by Doug Cooper
Gwen grows solemn. “Don’t you think you should at least tell Gabe first?”
“I will…once I have the money.” She leads Gwen by the hand. “Let’s go. I’ll send the pics to them on the way home.”
◆◆◆
Across town, Gabe pulls into his driveway. The motion-activated beam above the garage sprays light across the front yard. He steers the car to the right, making space for Eva to pull in next to him. She does a U-turn in the street and parks on the opposite side, two houses up.
Gabe waits for her in the driveway. The neighbor’s dog barks, pawing at the living room bay window. Eva’s kitten heels clack against the concrete as she angles across the street toward him. He says, “You should’ve just parked in the driveway. Plenty of room.”
Walking up the driveway, Eva squints into the light. “I wanted to leave enough room for Abbie when she gets home.”
“Gwen’s dropping her off.” He motions to the space in front of the house, his keys jingling in his hands. “You could’ve at least parked in the front. You planning to sneak out and make a fast getaway?”
“Don’t be silly.” Eva interlocks her arm with his. Gabe leads her up the brick path from the driveway to the house. She says, “Between that light and the dog next door, no one is sneaking anywhere.”
Gabe slides the key into the door, hesitating before open-ing it. “Please excuse the mess. I wasn’t expecting guests.”
“I bet you use that on all the women. Kind of like a woman not shaving her legs. Guaranteed to meet someone when you don’t.” Gabe flips on the light, glancing down at Eva’s smooth shins and calves. She says, “Don’t worry. You’re lucky I wanted to wear a skirt today.”
Several photographs of younger versions of Gabe and Abbie, alone and with their parents, hang on the wall. The décor in the living room to the right is twenty years past its zenith. White drapes outline the front bay window with a blue and white-striped couch and a glass coffee table resting on a brass base. A mahogany entertainment center covers most of the opposite wall. A chair matching the sofa and a glass end table fill the space to the right. A framed print of Monet’s “Water Lilies” hangs behind.
Gabe notices Eva studying the decor. “Would you believe we’re into vintage furnishings?”
Eva nods toward one of the photos of Gabe and Abbie with their parents. “I love the family photos, but I thought you said it was just you and Abbie.”
“It is. This is their house,” Gabe says. “Abbie and I just never got around to redecorating.” He walks toward the kitchen, motioning for her to follow. “Studio’s back this way.”
Eva trails after him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. The pictures really are cute. I keep a picture of me and my mom and dad from when I was five on my nightstand.”
“It’s fine,” Gabe says. “I wanted to take them down, but Abbie would crucify me. She likes things exactly as they were.”
“Did something happen to your parents?” Eva asks.
Gabe sets the full bottle of champagne he brought from the gallery on the counter and removes two stemmed glasses from the cabinet. With his back to Eva, he pops the cork and fills the glasses half full of champagne. “No sad stories tonight.” He retrieves the orange juice from the refrigerator and tops off the glasses. “Tonight is a night to celebrate.” He hands one of the glasses to Eva. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Eva moves closer to him, placing her hand on his arm. “Me too.”
Gabe leads her toward the studio. “Let me show you the work I have finished.”
They walk from the kitchen through the door into the garage studio. Gabe flips on the light. Milton casts a sleepy stare in their direction from his sprawled-out position on top of the closed laptop on the desk. He rolls over onto his back, curling up his legs and arching his back to present his belly. Eva separates from Gabe and goes to Milton, sinking her hand into his furry midsection. “Look at this chunky baby.” Milton writhes and purrs with contentment. Eva kneads the doughy feline flesh. “You like that don’t you?”
“No mystery with Milton. A belly rub and a spoonful of tuna now and then, and you have a friend for life.” Gabe walks over to a framed picture on the worktable.
“Typical man,” Eva says, leaving Milton to join Gabe. “A little physical gratification and a treat, and they’re clay in your hands.” She reaches down to pick up the picture, looking at Gabe for approval. “May I?” Gabe nods and steps back to pick out a few more from the finished ones leaning against the wall. Eva stands the picture on its end. A barn-like white church with two tall pointed arch windows and a single spire glows in the moonlight against thick, grayish black clouds. A shadow from the gabled entrance angles across the front, concealing the bottom half of the pointed arch window on the left. Two dark circular windows—one above the entrance and the other in the base of the spire on the roof—stare back from the picture. Behind the church, headstones reflect fragments of moonlight. A black oak creeps into the picture on the left, extending above the top of the spire, which has the dark outline of a cross at the peak resting ominously, almost floating on its own. Eva says, “Wow, this is amazing. Calm and peaceful, yet foreboding. You’re drawn in but feel like you should stay back at the same time.”
Gabe walks up next to her. “Isn’t it cool how the tree is higher than the cross? Could be interpreted so many different ways.”
“Like God is neither above or below but in all things,” Eva says.
Gabe draws a circle around the branches with his fingers. “Or maybe all things flourish in the presence of God.”
Eva lifts her hand to Gabe’s and presses down, slowly lowering the picture to the worktable. She pulls Gabe toward her, placing his hand on the small of her back. Rising up on her toes, she presses her lips against his. He moves his other arm around her and locks his fingers, pulling her closer. Soft moans mix with their caressing lips under the hum of the fluorescent lights. Gabe lifts her up and sets her on the worktable. Eva gasps in surprise and excitement at the sudden, strong move. She reaches behind her and slides the picture farther down the table. Leaning back, she pulls Gabe on top of her. He struggles out of his suit jacket and drops it to the floor. Her hands move to his neck, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. He reaches down between her legs and works the fitted skirt upward. Her legs spread wider as it climbs, eventually revealing no other layers underneath. His hand slides up the inside of her thigh. Murmuring approvingly, she unbuttons his shirt and continues down to his waistline. With a few quick pulls and tugs, she unbuckles his belt and drops his pants to his ankles.
Yanking his boxers down, she slides to the edge of the worktable and guides him inside her. He moves back and forth at the urging of her hands on his hips. With each forward thrust, she pulls him with more force. The table creaks, coalescing with their cooing. Sitting up, she wraps her arms around his neck and delivers a deep kiss, forcing her entire weight into him. Their breathing intensifies, building then suddenly stopping for several seconds before beginning again in full, deep gasps as Milton jumps from the desk to worktable, purring and rubbing his head into her side.
“Uh-oh,” Gabe says, shooing Milton away with his hand. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s smitten with you.”
“Just another smitten kitten.” Eva laughs, reclining back on the table, moving her hands from Gabe to Milton. “At least he waited until we were finished.”
Gabe steps back from the table, reassembling his clothes. “Better him than Abbie.” He glances at his watch. “She should’ve been home twenty minutes ago.”
Eva, still flitting her fingers over Milton’s head and spine, extends her legs, just able to hook Gabe with her feet and urge him toward her. “If I stay, will you promise to go easy on her.”
Gabe moves toward Eva, leaning over, propping himself up with his arms on the worktable. “You want to stay?”
Her
voice quivers. “I mean, if you want me to.” She moves her hands from Milton, gently stroking the back of Gabe’s forearms.
“Of course I do,” Gabe says. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t think you wanted to.”
She grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him down to her, so they’re nose to nose. “Is that the kind of girl you think I am?” She follows her words with a kiss, trapping his bottom lip between her teeth.
“Not at all,” Gabe says, holding his jaw still. “I just figured, since we weren’t planning this, you weren’t prepared for a slumber party.”
Eva releases his lip, kissing him softly. “The best stuff is always unplanned. How does the saying go? When we make plans, God laughs.”
Gabe’s phone rings in his pocket. He removes it and shows the screen to Eva. “Speaking of that, here’s the queen of not planning.” He puts the phone to his ear. “What is it this time? Flat tire, stuck in traffic, stepped in gum and stuck to the sidewalk?” Eva scoots off the table, adjusting her skirt and collecting her shoes. Gabe, still talking to Abbie, says, “Lost track of time, having a coffee after the movie, huh? At least that sounds believable. How long?… Okay, not a minute longer, but make sure to be quiet. We’re going to bed… Yes, I said we… That’s none of your business… That’s enough. Just get home. If I don’t hear you home by one, I’ll be up waiting for you. Neither of us want that… All right. Okay, I will. Goodnight.” He slides the phone back in his pocket. “Abbie says, ‘hi.’”
Wearing part of their outfits and carrying the rest, they walk toward the door to the house. “Probably a good thing she was late,” Eva tousles her mussy hair. “That could’ve been awkward.”
Gabe shuts off the light as they leave the studio. “God would’ve definitely been laughing at that one.”
In the bedroom, Gabe and Eva continue where they left off in the studio, only this time it is Gabe on his back. When they hear a door close down the hall, Eva catches Gabe stealing a glance at the clock, which displays 12:58. Eva stops, both her arms extended on Gabe’s chest. “Do you need to go check on her?”
Gabe takes her wrists and spreads his arms, lowering her to him so their bare chests merge. “No, she’s fine. I’ll talk to her in the morning. I’m not going anywhere.”
Eva breaks his grip on her wrists, maneuvering her hands into his. She interlocks their fingers and pins his arms above his head. “That’s good because I wasn’t going to let you, anyway.” Their playful banter fades to fevered thrusting until silence followed by soothing whispers and eventual snoozing.
Eva untangles herself from Gabe, careful not to wake him. Certain that he is still asleep, she slides from the bed, slipping on Gabe’s white dress shirt from the floor. She pries open the door and creeps down the hallway through the kitchen into the studio. Not turning on the light, she feels her way to the desk and sits down in front of the computer. Milton leaps from the worktable onto the desk, landing with a thud, startling her.
“Jesus Christ, cat. You trying to kill me? Not all of us have nine lives.” Milton paces across the desk in front of her. His purring vibrates low and deep. She pushes him away. “Not now. Go lie down.” Milton turns around and comes back, dropping down in front of her. She reaches over him and opens the laptop. “Okay, I guess we’ll do it this way.” She rests her wrists on him and works the keys with her fingers. The screen lights up, casting a glow on her. The security dialogue box appears. She types a-b-b-i-e. It fails. She tries the same password with a capital A then by adding numbers. It still fails. Looking around the room through the faint light from the computer, she sees one of the waterfall pictures and tries w-a-t-e-r-f-a-l-l. No luck. Milton pushes his butt in the air up by her chin, forcing her hand off the keys. She says, “You don’t give up, do you? I bet you know this stupid password.”
Suddenly, bright light fills the room. Eva jerks back into the chair. Milton scrambles from the desk to under the worktable. Gabe stands in the doorway. “Actually, he should. It’s Milton.”
Eva, her eyes adjusting to the light, squints at Gabe. “Between you and him, I think you’re both trying to see who can give me a heart attack first.”
Gabe, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, walks toward the desk. “The password is Milton, all lowercase. What do you need the computer for?”
“Oh, nothing.” Eva shuts the laptop. “I couldn’t sleep and started thinking about work. I didn’t want to wake you, so I came out here to read some email.” She holds up her phone. “My battery is almost dead. I thought I would try your computer.”
Gabe stands behind her and rubs her shoulders. “Go ahead if it will help you sleep. I can keep myself busy until you’re finished.” He walks around to the worktable, picking up the picture of the church, which has smudge marks smeared across the glass from earlier. “I can start by cleaning this.”
Eva rises from the desk chair and shuffles up next to him. “Don’t be silly. You should go back to bed. Don’t stay up because of me.” She touches the side of his cheek. “I should probably get going anyway. I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep after all.”
Gabe leans down and kisses her. “I can think of something better to do than read emails.”
Eva pulls back from him and walks to the desk, fetching a piece of paper and a pen. Meticulous precision replaces the inviting warmth from earlier. “As nice as that sounds, I have an early day tomorrow, or rather today,” she says, looking at the time on the computer. She scribbles down her fake name and number on a scrap of paper and hands it to him. “Tonight was great though. Here’s my number. Give me a call, and let’s get together again this week sometime.” She motions toward the house. “I’m just going to get dressed.” Gabe steps toward her to follow. She says, “I can manage. Be back in a flash.”
Gabe nods, confusion furrowing his brow. “No worries, I guess. Whatever works. I’ll just wait here.”
Eva returns moments later, fully dressed. She stops by the back door. “So I think I have everything. Does this lead around to the front?”
Gabe looks up from the worktable and angles toward her. “I can walk you out.”
“No, don’t be silly. Keep working. I’ll find my way.” She turns toward the door and places a hand on the doorknob.
Gabe reaches her before she can open the door. He stands behind her and slides her thick black hair to the side, kissing the back of her neck. “Is everything okay? You can totally stay.” Eva relaxes, the warmth from earlier returning. Gabe rubs the sides of each arm, moving down to untuck her blouse and rub her stomach. “This work can wait.”
Eva bristles at the mention of work. “But mine won’t, I’m afraid.” She rotates to face him and pushes the bottom of her shirt back into her skirt. “I’ll see you this week sometime.” She rises on her toes and kisses the end of his nose. “I still need to pick out my pics before you get all famous and the price goes through the roof.” Gabe leans down to kiss her. She gives him a quick peck and turns back toward the door. “I better go, or I’m going to be late.”
Gabe releases her and lifts his arm above her to guide the door as she walks out. “To be continued then. Thanks for an amazing…” His voice trails off because she’s already down the walk and around the corner. “…night.” He shakes his head, unsure of exactly what he did to chase her off. Milton saunters over, figure-eighting between his legs. Gabe looks down. “You saw the whole thing. Want to tell me what just happened?”
Milton meows his response and walks toward his empty food dish.
Chapter 7
Eva steps off the elevator on the thirteenth floor of the Roosevelt Lofts downtown in the financial district. She plods down the hall to her three-level penthouse. She’s moved three times in the past five years as business with Levi has improved, but all were within the same building. She could afford to live in a fancier building or more posh zip code like most of her colleagues, but she had promised herself sh
e wouldn’t get sucked into that life. Instead, each time she opted to move up to a higher floor and bigger place rather than to a new address. The first two she rented, but the penthouse is all hers. It’s the first property she has ever purchased, and outside of a car lease, the biggest financial commitment she has ever made.
Inside her apartment she trudges up the steps to her bedroom and master bath on the top level, leaving a trail of clothes. She turns on both showerheads and steps inside the etched glass enclosed rectangular space. Steam swarms around her. She sits down on the stone bench and reclines against the slate and tumbled marble walls, allowing both of the hot streams to pelt against her face and chest. The realization of what she had attempted and failed to do settles in. Worse yet, she has no clue what her next move should be. She gave him a fake name and number, so even if he tries to get in touch with her, he won’t be able to. Feeling the steam open up her pores, she wipes her hands down her face over her chest to her thighs where Gabe’s hands had been only hours before. Slumping her shoulders forward, she leans down, cradling herself, sobbing.
It had been a while since she had had sex and even longer since it meant anything to her. Most of her encounters were brief interludes. She would meet someone, bang once or maybe a few times if he didn’t irritate her, then she would push him away and be celibate for a while. After some time passed, she would feel obligated to try again and pick someone new. They would go back to his place or car or once even in the bathroom of the bar where they met. But she never felt good afterward. It was always more obligation than pleasure. Tonight was no different. That’s why she usually avoided it. She never trusted pleasure. She had never learned how to feel good.