Bittersweets_Terry and Alex

by Suzanne Jenkins

  “Allen’s Lane, next stop,” the conductor called.

  “That’s us,” Terry murmured, sitting up.

  “This is so different than downtown,” Alex said. “It’s still considered Philadelphia?”

  “Yep, still Philly. Follow me.”

  Climbing the hill to Mount Pleasant Avenue took all the strength Terry had. Stopping on the corner, she pointed up the hill. “My place is at the top of that hill,” she said. “Some days it’s all I can do to get up there.”

  “I’ll push,” he said, getting behind her. “It’s the tequila.”

  Teasing, they helped drag each other up the hill. The stone retaining walls along the way held back the yards upon which three-story Victorian twin houses had been built, some of them made of stone. Across the street, smaller, two-story row homes interspersed with older farmhouses added to the mix of architecture, nothing less than ninety years old.

  “This is my place,” she said when they reached a brick, stone, and wood structure at the top of the hill. A bus came to a screech right in front of it. “The K bus, crosstown.”

  Climbing the steps to the front walk, Terry got her key out, an old skeleton key, and unlocked the door.

  “No way,” Alex said, pointing to the key.

  “If someone wanted to break in, they’d just have to break this glass,” she said, pointing to the huge window in the door. “But they’d have to climb through.”

  She pushed open the door to a light filled hallway with original light oak floors. French doors led to the first floor flat. Curtains open, Alex peeked in at the cluttered space, floor to ceiling bookshelves overflowing, an old fashioned scrolled arm couch in front with a throw and a sleeping cat, and facing away from the door, an easel holding a canvas.

  “I’m on the third floor,” she whispered. “My neighbor is probably napping. He’s almost ninety years old, and still runs the Broad Street Ten Mile race every year.”

  They climbed up to the next floor. “This neighbor is a nurse. He works nights so I try to be extra quiet on the weekends when he’s trying to sleep.”

  She went around the staircase to a second set of stairs. “This leads to my place,” she said, pointing to a semi circle of narrow, steep stairs.

  The door opened onto a hallway flooded with light from a skylight, leading to a living room, a small, dark bedroom, and the kitchen in back.

  “Wow, I’m surprised at how spacious this is,” Alex said.

  This is my favorite room,” she replied, taking him to the front of the house. A large room with a huge circular window looked out over the treetops to tall buildings in the distance. A light fog seemed to envelop everything as they looked out. In spite of the fog, the room was still bright. With a flick of a cord, she let the matchstick blind rolled up at the top unroll, filtering some of the light, preventing onlookers from seeing them.

  “Now we can sit in here and not feel like we’re in a fishbowl. It’s like this with the haze until the first snow fall, something about the dynamics of the river and the cliffs on the other side.”

  A low window seat occupied the alcove under the window.

  “I could easily sit here around the clock,” he said.

  “Do you want a pair of sweatpants?” she asked. “I’m ready to get comfortable.”

  “I’d love a pair,” he said, taking his coat off. “So do you drive?”

  “I can, but I rarely move my car,” she replied. “I have the bus right out my door, the train down the hill, and a cab whenever I need to go to the grocery store and don’t feel like walking.

  “Follow me.”

  Leading the way to the bedroom with an attached bath, she opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of sweatpants for him.

  “They’re big on me,” she said, holding them up.

  They were navy blue, and down the left leg gold letters spelled out U of M.

  “You went to Michigan?” he asked. “Wow. Why didn’t I know that?”

  “And you went to Yale, I suppose,” she said laughing.

  “No, that would have been too prestigious. I went to school in the city. NYU.”

  “Well la-di-da,” she said, laughing. “I think I remember you telling me and I was impressed then.”

  Changing into their bum around clothes defused her anxiety. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the answering machine on the dresser, a red light flashing. Pressing a button, a recording came on. You have six messages.

  “Wow, I rarely get any. Anyone who gives a hoot about me will call my cell phone, she said, getting it out of her purse and holding it up for him to see. “Not one call.”

  Hey Terry, it’s Arvin. Where are you? Call me.

  “The friend with benefits?” Alex asked.

  “Yes,” Terry answered, skipping through the next four.

  Where are you? I’m almost desperate enough to call your cell phone.

  “But as you can see, he didn’t call,” she said.

  “What time was that last message? He might be getting ready to call you now.”

  She threw her cell phone to Alex. “There’s his number,” she said. “Block it for me.”

  Laughing out loud, he pushed some buttons and threw it back. “Blocked,” he said, reaching for her, threading his arms around her body.

  “You feel so good,” he said, kissing her. “Ugh, I need a toothbrush. Do you have a spare?”

  “I have several. I’m prepared for anything; strikes, world war, famine. This little apartment is a doomsday preppers dream.” She reached around him and opened a small door under the eaves. “The benefit of a top floor apartment is all this attic storage. I have enough food and supplies in here to last me one full year.”

  “Let’s quit our jobs and never leave the house,” he said.

  “I wish,” she answered, sorting through a box of toiletries. “Here you go. Adult, medium, blue. My toothbrushes are all pink so we won’t confuse them.”

  “I just licked you down here,” he whispered, reaching between her legs. “Do you think I care about using your toothbrush?”

  Giggling, she was embarrassed and charmed at the same time. “You do have a way with words,” she said.

  “It’s true,” he said, holding her. “I love to do that to you. I’m getting turned on again.”

  “Do you want me to take care of it?” she asked. “It’s my turn to do that to you.”

  “Do you want to? Because I might faint now.”

  “Oh, don’t faint,” she said, laughing.

  “I’ll be right back,” he whispered, pointing to the bathroom.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she heard water running. Soon, he came out naked from the waist down, already hard. Looking down at himself, Alex put his arms out at his side. “What can I say? It’s not everyday a beautiful woman asks if she can…you know.”

  “Come here,” Terry whispered, reaching out for Alex.

  Smoothing her hands around his hips, she took him into her mouth. Slow and easy, her lips encircling him with a little pressure, stroking him, flicking the head with her tongue, she looked up at his face and his eyes were closed, but she could tell he enjoyed what she was doing to him.

  It didn’t take long before he pulled back, gasping, reached to the waist of her pants and pulled them off. Sliding his hand under her hips, Alex pulled Terry close, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Grabbing his penis, he slid it up and down to find the entrance, and pushing into her, the molten silk enveloped him. Rocking together, it was a moment of intimacy she didn’t think she was capable of having, especially with someone she’d only known for a month.

  Holding on to Alex, her head against his chest, she felt whole and safe. There wasn’t a bit of dread or regret, or anything negative. When she could tell he was getting ready to come, she grabbed his rear and pulled him in as close as she could, and he went wild, crying out, driving into her and before she knew it, it was happening for her, too.

  ***

  Chapter 4

  Rain h
itting glass woke her up. Reaching for her bedside clock, she was shocked to see it was almost four-thirty. They’d slept all afternoon. Carefully sliding out of bed, she picked up her clothes and tiptoed out into the hallway. The rain was coming down in sheets again. Thankful the temperature wasn’t below freezing, she wasn’t ready for snow.

  The kitchen was a tiny room at the back of the house. Stomach growling, the late breakfast they’d had was a distant memory. Nothing in her refrigerator tempting her, she’d call for Chinese or pizza later, not sure which he’d prefer. There was so much to learn about Alex. Grabbing an apple, it would hold her over until he woke up. For a few minutes she’d have contemplative peace. After making a cup of tea, she sat at the table, looking out over the rain soaked backyard. It looked like any yard in a residential neighborhood approaching winter. A few leafy stragglers left on the trees, the perennials along the fence dead for another year, and the brown grass announced the onset of winter very soon. She’d made so many plans looking out at that yard, and now she had Alex to think about.

  It was time to do a Pro and Con list. Writing it early like this would help her decide what her next step should be. It was her nature to let nature take it’s course, like she had with Arvin, but it felt like with Alex there was more at stake.

  So under Pro, on the left side of the paper, she wrote pleasant. There was just no getting around it, everything about Alex was nice. He’d managed to make a drunken night of sex morph into what was happening between them, which had a feeling of permanence about it, so much so that it scared her. If she was reading more into it than was meant to be, she was in for a huge disappointment. Smart, handsome, amenable, reliable, excellent in bed, and employed, although for how long was open for debate.

  That was at the top of the Con list. Once they told Vince they were involved, it was a moot question what he’d do. Would he ask for Alex’s resignation? Or would they point a finger at her for knowingly going into a relationship with a new employee when it was expressly forbidden?

  Hearing movement from the bedroom, she closed her journal and got up to greet Alex. He stepped out of the bedroom, his hair a mess, smiling his Cheshire cat grin which just melted her heart.

  “I’ve staked out my territory,” he said, stretching. “Nothing like making myself at home.”

  “Are you at home?” she asked, going to him to hug.

  “I’m so at home,” he said into her hair. “I’m in danger of being a human slug.”

  “Hey, I’m definitely a slug,” she said, taking his hand. “This is it for the weekend.”

  Leading him into the living room, she pointed to the couch. “What’s your pleasure for dinner?” she asked. “We can get just about anything delivered.”

  “Give me a choice,” he said.

  “Pizza or Chinese.”

  “Chinese,” he said.

  She flipped through a pile of papers in a basket on the end table and produced a menu. “I’m very selfish about my Chinese food, so no sharing.”

  He laughed out loud, putting his head on the back of the couch. “I don’t even have to look, house special fried rice and sweet and sour pork.”

  “No way,” she said, her expression serious. “That’s what I order. I’m getting three of each because I’m telling you, mine are off limits.”

  In the hallway using the landline to order, the comforting sound of Terry’s voice droned through the apartment. Alex closed his eyes, listening to her, and a plan emerged. Sunday morning he’d take the train back down to his apartment and grab clothes and his computer, fully intending on returning to spend the rest of the day with Terry. They’d go into work together the following Monday.

  “Let me guess,” he said when she reappeared. “Fifteen minutes.”

  “Fifteen, twenty,” she said, laughing.

  “Where do you work in the apartment?” he asked, looking around.

  “At my kitchen table,” she answered. “Why?”

  “Can I see?” he asked, standing.

  “Sure. I love sitting in that window seat, looking out over the city,” she said, pointing to the big circular window at the front. “But the view is too distracting for serious work.”

  He followed her to the back of the apartment and she flicked the light on in the kitchen.

  “This is cozy,” he said.

  “I sit there,” she said, pointing to the small table. “That little bookcase holds my favorite books. They smell like food now, but that’s okay.”

  “It’s quiet back here,” he said. “I like it. I fully intend on moving in with you if you’ll have me.”

  “Is that what you want?” she asked, her heart ready to burst.

  “It’s what I want,” he said, kissing her. “Where can I work?”

  “Would you be comfortable up in front?” she asked, walking back to the living room. “This corner seems like a perfect space. We can put bookcases right against this wall. And a desk would fit behind the door.”

  “What if you want to relax in here and watch television?” he asked. “It isn’t fair to you for me to hog up the whole room.”

  “That TV is never on,” she said. “My dad insisted on buying it for me in case he ever has to venture to this side of town. If I want to watch, I do so in bed.”

  “Okay. I didn’t even see a TV in there,” he replied.

  “It’s on the wall. Do you have a desk?” she asked.

  “No, my apartment came furnished. I really don’t need one. I like to sit in a recliner when I work.”

  “Oh, is that right?” she asked, laughing.

  The door buzzer sounded. “Oops, food’s here,” she said.

  “I’ll go down,” he said, moving past her. “If I can find my way.”

  They went down together, whispering, but the whole house was awake and listening with their ears to the wall on this Saturday night – Terry had a guest.

  Food paid for, they were on their way back upstairs when the first floor neighbor poked his head out of the door.

  “Good evening!” he said.

  “Earle, this is Alex,” Terry said smiling.

  They exchanged pleasantries, and Earle let them retreat with their dinner in a bag. “It’s nice to meet you, Alex,” he said. “Welcome to our home.”

  At the top of the staircase on the next floor, the second door opened. “Hi Terry,” Benny said, holding out his hand to Alex. “I’m Benny.”

  Terry did the introductions.

  “Benny, I hope we didn’t wake you,” Terry said, worried.

  “Not at all,” he replied. “I’m getting ready for work and I heard Earle.”

  “Have a good night at work,” she said, continuing on to her apartment.

  Unpacking their dinner in the kitchen, they each took a container into the living room, sitting on opposite ends of the couch.

  “Your TV is going to get a workout,” Alex said.

  “What do you watch?” she asked, hesitating. “Because I do have a few guilty pleasures.”

  He recited his line up of programing, and she frowned, shaking her head. “I’ll watch tonight so we can be together, but I’m hooked on the Housewives. Tonight will be special because it’s our first sleepover, not counting the hotel, which I don’t remember anyway.”

  “Remember, it’s Saturday night,” he said.

  “Yes! No Housewives on Saturday night. I’m sometimes out with my girlfriends on Saturday night.”

  “Oh no, so this is probably boring for you,” he said.

  “Are you kidding? Half the time I ask myself why I’m doing it. I’d rather be home.”

  Pointing the remote at the television, it popped on and she went through the channels to his program.

  “You’re in luck,” he said. “I’ve seen this one.”

  Mentioning other programming, they were able to agree on a popular home renovation show.

  By nine, they were out cold, curled up on the couch covered with afghans. At midnight, Terry got up and cleaned up their food me
ss, putting the kitchen to rights. She tiptoed into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash up. Then she debated leaving him out in the living room, but decided she wanted him in her bed. They were compatible sleepers.

  “Alex,” she whispered, her hand on his shoulder. “Come to bed.”

  He woke up, and let her lead him. “I’ll be right out,” he said, headed to the bathroom.

  She went back to the living room to straighten up, the challenges of living with someone else already evident. Fortunately, she wasn’t that obsessed with neatness for it to be a problem unless he was a slob. Around the office he was organized, his office orderly.

  Getting into bed before he came out, she always slept on the left side of the bed, and he seemed fine with the right.

  He climbed in next to her, yawning. “Jeez, I’m such a dud tonight,” he said. “I apologize.”

  “No apology needed,” she replied. “This is perfect for me.”

  “Goodnight,” he said, kissing her.

  “Goodnight, Alex,” she said, rolling over.

  ***

  Chapter 5

  December 2nd

  Sunday morning, the annoying hall phone rang. “Oh my God,” she moaned. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Are you going to get it?”

  “No, the answering machine will pick up,” she said as the whirl of the machine echoed in the hallway.

  “I forgot you have a real machine,” he replied, yawning. “Did you buy that at an antique shop?”

  “There’s no hiding from it,” she said, yawning.

  “Hey Terry, it’s Arvin. Why aren’t you returning my calls?”

  Burying her face in the pillow, she laughed. They laid in bed, listening to him admonishing Terry for ignoring him.

  “Maybe you’d better level with the guy so he doesn’t come up here unannounced,” Alex said.

  “Oh, all right,” she said, getting out of bed.

  “Arvin, chill,” she said, picking up.

  “Why aren’t you returning my calls?” he asked, petulantly. “I almost came up there.”

  “Ha! Almost is the key word,” she said. “I’m busy, Arvin. What’s wrong? Gloria stand you up? Or was it Laura this time?”