Breakfast at Stephanie's

by Sue Margolis

  “You haven’t? Then who am I thinking of?”

  Just then a girl with fuchsia hair and thick black-rimmed glasses came over to say Frank’s car had arrived from the BBC. He explained that he was taking part in a Radio 4 arts discussion program on government cuts in arts funding. “Boring, but worthy … I’ll see you, Steph. Been great to catch up again.” He kissed her on both cheeks and waved good-bye to Cass.

  “Believe me,” Cass said after he’d gone, “he so has the hots for you. Did you see the way he looked at you as he kissed you good-bye?”

  “Cass, let it go. Frank’s just a bit of a flirt, that’s all.”

  “Really? Is that what you call it?” As she lit a cigarette, Cass lowered her head and started squinting at Stephanie’s bust. “Is it me,” she said, inhaling sharply, “or do you have one nipple sticking out?”

  The next day, when Stephanie got home from the Park Royal, Albert was in the bathroom standing in front of the full-length medicine cabinet mirror, stripped to the waist. Balanced on the edge of the bath was a tub of hot wax.

  “Hey, hope you don’t mind,” he said. “I thought maybe I should lose the hairs on my back, so I borrowed your leg wax.”

  As he ripped a gauze strip from his shoulder, they both winced—him with pain and her with more than mild distaste. Urrgh, Albert had started depilating? In her book it was fine for gay blokes to do it. It was part of the culture, but when straight men did it, it was just so gold neck chain and tanning bed tan.

  “God, now I know what women go through.” His eyes were watering.

  “No, Albert. Try waxing your balls. Then you’ll have more of an idea of what women go through.”

  “Ow, that really stings,” he said, rubbing the bright red patch that had now appeared on his shoulder. “I thought I might look better with a smoother contour, but I’m not sure it’s worth the pain.” Contour? When had Albert started using words like contour?

  “Sunnie suggested I start waxing. She said she preferred men with smooth skin. What do you think? Would I look better without the hair?” Suddenly it made sense. Contour was such a Sunnie word. “To be honest,” Stephanie said, “unless you’re thinking of joining the Village People, I wouldn’t bother.”

  “God, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking.” With that, he threw the gauze strip into the bin and then stood in front of the mirror again. “You know, I really need to get to the gym,” he said, sucking in his stomach and running his hands over what she considered to be a perfectly defined six-pack. “I’m starting to lose some tone.”

  She patted his stomach. “Albert, you look great. Believe me.”

  “Really?” He turned his body so that he was facing the mirror side-on.

  “Really … So, Jake in bed?”

  “I guess. He’s spending the night at your mother’s.”

  “How come?”

  “Well, she offered and I said yes—which means, principessa, that I can take you out to dinner.”

  “Wow. What’s the occasion?”

  “Well, for a start, we should celebrate because you’ve found a new agent—and on top of that I thought it would be good for us to spend some time together.”

  “OK, I’d like that.”

  She went upstairs, touched up her makeup and put on her new denim skirt and pink gypsy blouse.

  They took a cab to Hampstead. He’d booked a table at KN, a trendy new bistro that had just opened on High Street.

  While they waited for their first course, they drank Campari and soda.

  “It was you who got me into Campari,” she said, “when we were in Verona.” She stirred the ice around her glass. “Do you remember how it took me ages to get a taste for it?”

  He nodded and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve finished with Sunnie Ellaye,” he said.

  “Oh, Albert, I’m sorry. She was great. Daft as a brush, but I really liked her.”

  “Yeah, me too. And she adored Jake.”

  “So, once again, you just got bored,” she said.

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. It was kinda mutual. Her last boyfriend got back in touch and wanted her to give their relationship another chance, and at the same time I felt I needed some space. Some time to get my head straight. You know, since I’ve been here with Jake, I’ve felt myself changing, mellowing. Does that make sense?”

  She told him it had never occurred to her that he would take to fatherhood in the way he had.

  Throughout dinner, Albert was quieter and more thoughtful than she’d ever seen him. When his salad turned up already dressed—rather than with the dressing on the side, the way he’d asked—instead of making his usual loud, big-shot American fuss, he said nothing. She wasn’t even sure he’d noticed.

  “You know what I really feel guilty about?”

  “What?”

  “That I missed seeing him come into the world.”

  “Oh, Albert, that wasn’t your fault. I went into labor a month early. There was nothing you could have done.”

  When they got home, she went into the kitchen and poured them some more wine. She took it into the living room. The fire was burning in the grate. He’d dimmed the lights and put “Stand by Me” on the CD player.

  “We danced to this in Verona,” he said. “The first night we made love. Remember?”

  “Of course I remember.” They stood looking at one another.

  “Hey, principessa, come here.”

  She hesitated a moment. He held out his hand. She put down the wineglasses and walked slowly toward him. She let him wrap his arms around her, felt his cheek against hers as they swayed gently in time to the music. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder as they danced.

  “I always think of us when I hear this song,” he said softly.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  First he kissed her cheek. A moment later he was kissing her on the lips and she was kissing him back with the same deep, urgent passion she’d kissed him with that first night in Verona.

  She felt him pull the low elasticated neck of her gypsy blouse down over her shoulder. He kissed her neck, the tops of her breasts.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

  She began unbuttoning his shirt. As she looked into his eyes, she knew this was all wrong. Where was it leading? OK, she knew precisely where it was leading—to hot, steamy jungle sex. Whatever the rights and wrongs, she simply couldn’t resist him. She began running her hands over his chest and down toward his belt. As she outlined his erection with her finger, his stomach gave a small quiver.

  He pulled her blouse over her head, pulled down her bra straps one at a time and kissed her shoulders.

  “Albert, stop a minute.” He looked at her. “You really have finished with Sunnie, haven’t you? You weren’t lying back there in the restaurant, just to get me into bed?”

  “I swear. It’s over.”

  “OK.” She let him unhook her bra.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered as he stood gazing at her breasts. The next second he was planting tiny kisses all over them, biting her nipples. She undid his belt buckle and started on his jeans buttons. Finally she pulled at the waistband of his boxers and trailed her finger over the tip of his penis. He responded by kissing her again, his tongue deep inside her. Somehow he’d managed to pull down the zip on her skirt.

  “Take it off,” he ordered gently.

  He carried on watching her as she stepped out of it and began taking off her stockings.

  “Now you,” she said. She tugged at the tops of his jeans. He did the rest. His erection sprang out. She saw a tiny pearl of semen. He gave a soft moan as she rubbed it gently with her finger.

  Finally he picked up a couple of cushions from the sofa and led her to the fire. As she lay down next to the hearth, bathed in firelight, he placed the cushions under her head.

  “I want you,” she heard herself say. “I really want you.”

  She felt his tongue moving up the inside of one thigh, then t
he other. Finally he ran his finger over the crotch of her pants.

  “Oh, my God,” he said. “You are so wet.”

  He helped her off with her pants. For a while he just looked at her. Then he opened her, slowly, carefully, as if she might break. When he pushed his fingers inside her, deeply probing, she gasped. When his tongue trailed over her and found her clitoris, she felt herself floating away, barely aware of her own consciousness.

  “Please. Let me feel you inside me.”

  He moved himself up over her body. Soon he was pushing himself inside her, with slow, deep thrusts. Every so often he would stop to caress her with his fingers, changing the pressure, stopping completely when he sensed she was about to come. When he did this, she begged him to carry on, but he simply whispered to her that there was no hurry. Finally, as the caress between her legs became even more exquisite, he allowed her to come.

  Afterward they lay on the rug, her head resting on his chest.

  “Oh … my … God,” Stephanie said.

  “You called?” Albert replied, grinning. She bashed him playfully.

  “You know,” he said, “when I told you I’d missed you, I really meant it.”

  “You did? That’s nice.”

  “Yes. Back home, I find myself thinking about you a lot.” He began trailing a finger over her breast. “And these last few weeks I’ve found myself thinking about what Grandma Lilly said when I arrived on Christmas Day, about us making a lovely little family.”

  “Oh, Gran’s such an old romantic. She’s just thinking of Jake.”

  “I know, but I think she’s got a point. And you and I have been getting along so well.”

  She sat up and looked at him. “What are you saying?”

  “Don’t you think we’d make a lovely family—you, me and Jake? I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you marry me?”

  She sat blinking at him, not sure what to say. “Marry you? Wow, you certainly know how to surprise a girl. Look, Albert, I love you as a friend, as the father of my child, but I’m not in love with you. A child needs parents who are in love. We had a lot to drink tonight and we had sex, but don’t let’s start reading more into it.”

  “But you agree we get along?”

  “Yes. We get on very well.”

  “And we both love Jake.”

  “Of course.”

  “And you find me totally irresistible.”

  “I do?”

  His hand was stroking the inside of her thigh. “OK,” he whispered, “tell me I don’t make you horny.”

  “All right, I admit it. You are very sexy.”

  “Thank you. And I make you laugh.”

  “Yes. You make me laugh.”

  “And I’m learning how to be a real dad.”

  “You are. You’re becoming a brilliant dad.”

  “And when I look at you I see this gorgeous, intelligent woman who is a wonderful mother. So, what else do we need to make it work?”

  “Love.”

  “But we do love each other. I love you. You love me. What’s the difference between being in love and simply loving? The whole in-love thing wears off in no time anyway. You know that. I love you, principessa, and I think we’d be good together.”

  “Albert, this is ridiculous—on a practical level if nothing else. For a start, you live in L.A.,” she said.

  “I’ll move here.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, all your work’s over there.”

  “I know, but I’m thirty-eight. I can’t go on forever, punishing my body the way I do. And it’s dangerous. I’m thinking maybe I should do something more low risk.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He lay there, hands behind his head. “I have never been more serious in my life.”

  “OK,” Stephanie said, “you do know that being married means being faithful, don’t you? I mean, what’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had?”

  “I dunno. Three months. Four, maybe.”

  “I rest my case. So, apart from Sunnie Ellaye, are there any other romantic interests back home?”

  “A couple maybe, but they don’t mean anything. I’ve changed since I’ve been with Jake. My priorities are different now.”

  “Albert, one of the reasons I didn’t let myself fall head over heels for you was that I knew what a womanizer you are. If we got married, you’d be cheating on me within weeks. Days probably.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  She lay there looking at him. “Albert, we have the greatest sex and I really care about you. My entire family cares about you. But marriage … that’s huge.”

  “Would you at least think about it?” he said. “Take as long as you like.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “For Jake’s sake,” he went on. “Please. He needs to grow up with two parents who love him. I want him to be part of a family.”

  “He is part of a family. Him and me.”

  “Yes, but he needs a live-in father. So, will you think about it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Please?”

  She shrugged.

  “OK, I’ll think about it.”

  What she really needed was for Albert to go home so that she could have some space to begin processing all this, but it was well after one and he’d had a lot to drink. She didn’t have the heart to send him on his way. “Come on,” she said, “we’re both tired. Let’s hit the sack and talk about it again in the morning.”

  Chapter 9

  Albert dropped off almost immediately, his arms around Stephanie’s middle. She barely slept. Was it remotely possible they could make a go of it? He wasn’t the only one who wanted Jake to have two parents who lived under the same roof. She craved it more than anything.

  She wanted Jake to have a dad who would be able to help him with his science homework, who would kick a football round with him in the garden, who would sit with him on rainy Sunday afternoons, building those miniature space rockets she’d seen fathers and sons flying in the park. In her imagination, she could see the three of them on Hampstead Heath. Jake is six or seven, his eyes dancing with excitement and admiration as his dad launches their first rocket. Of course it only goes up a few feet and gets caught in a tree, but in her fantasy, Jake doesn’t notice and she and Albert convince him it has soared onward and upward through the Earth’s atmosphere and is on its way to Mars. Afterward they drive to Mrs. Beeton’s in the high street and eat crumpets and cream cakes.

  The thought of Jake growing up with little more than an e-mail relationship with his father brought tears to her eyes. Could they … should they get married for Jake’s sake? The wise, intelligent part of her knew this wasn’t a sufficient basis for marriage. And what if Jake eventually found out that he was the only reason she and Albert had gotten together? How would he feel? Particularly if it all went wrong. Guilty, that’s how he’d feel. Guilty and angry with her. Christ, he might never forgive her. But why did she assume it had to go wrong? What if it went right? Was it beyond the realm of possibility that she and Albert might even fall in love? She turned her head to look at him. He was lying on his back making chewing motions in his sleep, exactly like Jake. There was so much that was lovable about Albert, she thought. Looks and the stupendous sex aside, he was intelligent, funny, kind, and of course he adored Jake.

  But Albert would never give up chasing women. She knew he lived for the chase. It made him feel alive. Working at a relationship bored him. And yet … and yet. She’d already seen him grow in a way she’d never thought possible. In a matter of weeks he had changed from simply being Jake’s father into a real dad. She couldn’t imagine anybody doing a better job. If it was true, if Albert really was going through some kind of emotional renaissance, it would be so easy for her to fall in love with him.

  Her mind was still churning, well into the small hours. She woke up feeling just as knackered as when she went to bed, her thoughts just as confused. Albert was snoring softly beside her. She looked at the clock. It wa
s past eight. She’d said she would pick Jake up from her mother’s at nine and then Albert would have him for the rest of the day as usual. She threw back the duvet and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

  She came back wrapped in a towel. By now Albert was awake and sitting up in bed. “You look beautiful,” he said, watching her trying to force a comb through her dripping hair.

  “I do?” She sat down at her dressing table and carried on trying to detangle her hair.

  “Oh, yeah.” He got out of bed and came toward her. His broad chest was bare and there was a trace of a tan. Ditto on his legs, which looked firm and muscular in his boxer shorts. He kissed her on the shoulder. Then he lifted her hair and kissed the back of her neck.

  “Albert, behave,” she giggled. “I need to get ready. I have to get over to Mum’s.”

  “Estelle won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late.”

  She put down the comb and turned her face toward his. As they kissed he pulled off the towel and began caressing her breasts. Then he took the towel away again and began trailing his finger downward over her belly.

  Before she knew it she was on her feet and Albert was leading her back to bed. Even though she wasn’t in love with Albert—not yet, at least—the truth was, nothing had changed since their time in Verona. She was still head over heels in lust with him.