Heights of Desire

by Mara White

  “You can take off now if you’d like, Carmen. Robert is coming home early tonight to meet Jaylee.” The lies are now flowing freely out of me.

  After I’m sure Carmen’s car has pulled away from the house I grab the bowl of veggies, the beers and the lighter fluid from under the sink. I pause at the screen door and watch Jaylee pushing Pearl on the swing. He’s got Ada on his shoulders and both of my girls are giggling and grinning. The sad truth is that they’re starved for male attention because they hardly ever spend time like this with their dad. As the door slams behind me, it dawns on me that I am too.

  The evening unravels with near perfection: a bright pink sunset, balmy warm air and water balloons. The girls are ecstatic. Jaylee keeps up with their banter and plays with them almost like a peer would. He tosses them into the air tirelessly and allows them to soak him with their terrible aim and weak throws. While I’m making the girls pick up all of the pieces of broken balloons, Jaylee casually peels of his drenched white t-shirt and rings it out. He hangs it on the top bar of the swing set and turns to help us. His chest is defined, hairless and, surprisingly, devoid of tattoos. I’ve never considered myself the type of woman that drools over the perfect male physical specimen. I tend to like men with character, but tonight I’ve suddenly and unwillingly become a convert. Our eyes lock and my breathing becomes irregular immediately. The now familiar hum starts deep in my belly and radiates out to my limbs. I feel dangerously out of control and reckless. I want his hands on me.

  Jaylee walks over and kneels down to where we are huddled, never breaking eye contact with me.

  “Why don’t you go do the bedtime thing and I’ll clean up this mess?”

  I read stories to the girls in Pearl’s bed but they are more interested in the story of Jaylee.

  “Is he really going to be our new babysitter?” Pearl asks

  “I don’t know, sweetie, maybe we can ask Daddy what he thinks,” I answer.

  “Why is Jaylee a boy babysitter?” Ada says and I tickle her in response.

  I kiss the girls goodnight and rise to draw Pearl’s shades. I can see Jaylee in the yard, still shirtless and doing jail pull-ups on the girl’s swing set. It all seems outrageous. What would I say to my husband about the half naked young man who’s working out in the back yard if he were to arrive home from work right now? He’s our new sitter and he’s already helped himself to all of your beer and now he’s getting naked. Oh, and I think I want to fuck him.

  I want to call Sarah but I also need to go back outside. It seems like it would be a good idea to brush my teeth. I grab my toothbrush and toothpaste out of the bathroom and fly down the stairs. I pull out a bottle of ancient brandy from the pantry and quickly take a swig. I need courage. Am I planning on kissing him? One deep breath later I take another one. Then I brush my teeth furiously in the kitchen sink. This is all a really bad idea. I have never in my life before acted so selfishly. I decide I have no choice but to ask him to leave, to forget where I live, and to avoid the playground on Mondays.

  When I work up the nerve to go back outside it’s completely dark. I flick on the outside light from the back deck and it illuminates the yard. Jaylee is gone. His white t-shirt still hangs on the swing set. My hands fly to my mouth to stifle a gasp that springs forth unannounced. I am again stunned by how much this affects me. Am I losing my mind? A second ago I wanted him gone and now that he’s gone, the loss I feel borders on agonizing. I don’t even know this person. Why am I so affected emotionally by every little thing he does? The doorbell rings and I gasp again in surprise. I run to the front door and Jaylee is standing on the porch, shirtless and smoking a cigarette.

  “I think I should go,” he says

  “Me too. I was just going to ask you to leave.”

  He flicks his cigarette into the street and runs his hand through his hair.

  “I can’t be what you’d need me to be. I saw here tonight what you have. You’re a damn good mom. Nice place. A husband that does good by you. I don’t want to fuck that up for you. You deserve what you got.”

  He thinks he’s not good enough for me? That’s why he’s leaving? He is all I want right now, all I could possibly need. Oh God, I really just want to grab and kiss him. Is he saying this to make it less painful for me? He’s realized I’m so much older than him. I’m not what he wants. He’s escaping before it gets too messy.

  I nod my head defeated and look up to meet his gaze. His eyes are burning so intensely that I believe he can see right through me. He must know what I’m thinking. I can’t speak. I want to tell him not to go. I want him to pull me to his chest again like he did in the church. He reaches out and runs his finger from my earlobe to my chin. His touch is divine. Addictive. So dangerous.

  “I’d kiss you goodbye, Kate, but I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.”

  With that he hops down the steps and strides away into the night. I hate myself for not saying anything. My body is still vibrating from his touch. I turn and walk through the house stripping my clothing off as I go. I step out into the back yard in nothing but my underwear. I don’t really care if the neighbors are watching. I tug Jaylee’s shirt off of the swing set and pull it over my head even though it’s still damp. It smells of cigarettes, cologne and sweat. I want his mouth on me. I want his body wrapped around mine. I wrap my arms around myself and inhale his scent. It was the right thing to do to ask him to leave, but I know it can’t be the last time we’ll see each other. My life is quickly becoming a series of tedious waiting periods in between the moments that I’m in his presence. The life that I’m living in my head is realized in the few exchanges we’ve had together; it’s the other one that’s beginning to feel like a farce.

  CHAPTER 3

  I’m standing in line at the grocery store when I feel someone staring at me. I look up and see one of the young baggers looking right at me. He smiles as if we know each other and I turn to look behind me to make sure he isn’t looking at someone else. When I turn back around he’s laughing at me. He’s a teenager, maybe eighteen at most. When I approach the checkout he’s still staring at me.

  “You’re Kate, right?” he asks.

  “I am,” I reply.

  “You’re Jaylee’s girl,” he says without any irony.

  Molten electricity pours into my veins at the mention of his name. I can feel the heat rising to my face and my heartbeat starts to quicken.

  “Who are you?” I ask trying to sound casual.

  “Jaylee’s my boy. My name is Oscar, but everybody calls me Flash.”

  “Nice to meet you, Oscar – Flash,” I say.

  I grab my groceries from him feeling embarrassed and confused. I manage to flag down a cab and crawl in the back with all of my bags. Since when have I ever felt ashamed of my groceries or by the need to feed my family? How would I have wanted to present myself? Am I self-conscious because of what I think he’ll tell Jaylee or am I now concerned about what all neighborhood thugs think of me?

  Jaylee’s girl. I can’t stop replaying it in my head. It makes me giddy. I’m drunk on these two words. Jaylee’s girl. I‘ve only truly spent time with him once. Nothing really happened between us, at least not on paper. I haven’t seen him in weeks, yet his friend calls me Jaylee’s girl. Does that mean he talks about me? I wish, more than anything, that I could know what it means to be his girl. By no stretch should I be called a girl. I think I was born twenty-odd years too early.

  “What’s up, Mary Kay?” Sarah yells into the phone.

  “Mary Kay?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Letourneau. The OG Cougar. Seen the kid?” Sarah loves to inflict pain like this. She’s teasing, but she loves to push the boundaries and see if she can get a rise out of people. I’ve been on the receiving end ever since grammar school so her biting comments barely faze me.

  “That’s why I called. He sent me a text.”

  “You gave him your digits?” Sarah asks incredulously.

  “No, that’s the thing. I have no idea how he
got my number. I didn’t even tell him my last name. He knows where I live so maybe he looked it up that way?”

  “What’s he want?”

  “He asked me on a date,” I say.

  “A date, huh?” Sarah says. “Ask him how he got your number. I want to hear this.”

  “Right now?” I ask.

  “Yeah, right now! Text your child bride! That’s how they communicate these days anyway. Get a tumblr account, old woman. You’re going to have to learn how to sext too. Maybe Joshua can teach you.”

  “God, Sarah. You’re gross.”

  “Oh, I’m gross. That’s why we’re here because I’m the gross one. Text him.”

  Jaylee, this is Kate. How did you get my number?

  I know it’s you. U lft ur phone on the tbl in the yard. I lifted it. U mind?

  “He got my number from my phone. I left it in the back yard.”

  “I guess that’s not too stalkery. I can’t believe he’s already been in your yard. Next it’s your pants. Ask him if he knows you’re married,” Sarah prods.

  “He totally knows.”

  “Ask him.”

  Jaylee, you know that I’m married, right?

  Sí

  “He knows,” I say

  “Ask him where he wants to take you on the date.”

  “Jesus, Sarah! I feel like we’re in seventh grade right now. Why don’t you just talk to him for me.”

  Where are we going on this date?

  JERSEY- UNION CITY- U dance Salsa?

  “Oh my God, he wants to take me dancing!” I haven’t been dancing in years. I love going dancing almost more than I love anything else. The idea of Jaylee dancing seems incredibly sexy. Irresistible. Nothing can make me not go dancing with this man.

  “Kate, you still there?

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “You are such a goner. I’m sure you’ll call me later to help pick up the pieces so I’ll spare you the warnings, but I’m going heavy on the ‘I told you sos’ when this shit is over.”

  “’Maybe this is the answer, Sarah. Maybe we can just be hot dance partners and we don’t even have to have sex.”

  “Dream on, Kate. I know how this story ends.”

  “Give me some credit, Sarah. I don’t know how it ends. You can’t start blaming me before anything even happens.”

  I say goodbye to Sarah and quickly text Jaylee back.

  Yes! I want to go dancing with you.

  GR8! I’ll pick you up at 8 on Sat.

  Between now and Saturday I’ll have to make the decision whether or not to tell Robert. If I tell him it seems more innocent, like Jaylee really is just my salsa partner. If I don’t tell him then I’m keeping it secret because Jaylee is much more than just a dance partner. I decide that I have to tell him. For all I know, it might be what this relationship turns into. The challenge will be telling Robert without giving away my true feelings for Jaylee. A challenge that’s much easier said than done, considering that just saying his name causes my blood pressure to rise and my face to flush.

  Jaylee arrives an hour early for our date. Who arrives an hour early for a first date? Only a crazy person. I’m in the shower scrubbing my hair when Pearl knocks on the door.

  “Mama, your friend is downstairs. He’s making a puzzle with Ada. Stephani isn’t here yet.”

  Pearl tells me that Carmen let him in as she was leaving. That means Jaylee is the only one watching the girls now. I yank a comb through my tangled hair after jumping out of the shower, vowing to never go on a date again. Really? Who arrives early for a date? I slip into the only jeans I can call sexy and pull a silk, ruffled blouse over my head. I cram my lipstick and mascara into my purse hoping to find some time to discreetly put it on in the car. At the base of the stairs I jam my feet into my black ballet flats and follow the girl’s giggles into the living room.

  Jaylee is spinning Ada by the feet and her face is beet red. She’s loving it. Pearl is doubled over in laughter, her face still red from her turn spinning. He looks up when I walk in and his amazing smile lights up the room, me and my daughters included.

  “Hey,” he says, gingerly placing Ada standing up on the coffee table and coming over to kiss my cheek. His smell is intoxicating and his proximity makes me go tingly, everywhere.

  “Hey,” I say beaming. It feels like such a relief to finally see him. All of the worrying and waiting, all of the longing wash away and are forgotten.

  “Kate,” Jaylee says abruptly clapping his hands together. “You can’t wear that.”

  Another dashing smile spreads across his face – this time at my expense.

  I’m momentarily horrified, but equally as quickly reassured when our eyes meet.

  “No jeans, baby.“

  “For crying out loud! If you knew then why didn’t you text me? What am I supposed to wear? A dress? I can’t wear a dress!” I protest.

  “Hey, hey,” is all he answers snapping his fingers and gesturing towards the stairs. He grabs the girl’s hands and ushers them forwards. “Let’s go help Mami get more pretty for dancing.”

  “Yay!” Ada screams in delight and they run up the stairs with Jaylee in tow.

  The next forty-five minutes consist of me going back at least two decades in my closet. Jaylee simply answers ‘shorter’ to every skirt I try on and the girls squeal with delight at this new game. When I’ve finally wedged myself into a black, stretchy mini that hasn’t seen the light of day since the early nineties, Jaylee nods approvingly. Next he lightly pushes me aside and strides into my closet to check out my shoes. Predictably, he chooses what Robert refers to as my ‘ho strollers’ and hands them to me looking thoroughly pleased with himself. I cringe.

  “Jaylee, you want me to dance in those?” He responds with only a slow, seductive nod and his incredible smile. “What about my shirt?” I ask, trying to sidestep the heavy sexual tension between us.

  “You’ good like that,” Jaylee answers referring to the black camisole I had on under my shirt.

  “I can’t wear this. It’s an undershirt,” I say

  “You look fucking hot, Kate,” Jaylee says and covers his mouth when I shoot him a look for swearing in front of the girls. “You look beautiful, I mean. You should dress like this all the time.”

  I say nothing and smile like an idiot. It amazes me that Jaylee can say things to me that I know I would find offensive coming from anyone else. When I’m with him and surrounded by his warmth and charm, he can say anything and it makes me melt.

  The doorbell rings and the girls jump off the bed yelling, “Stephani” and beeline for the stairs. I’m pulling my still damp hair into a ponytail when Jaylee rises from the bed, walks slowly over to me and wraps his arms around me from behind. My breath runs out of me and my heartbeat speeds to a gallop.

  “No sabes cuánto lo he pensado.”

  “No, pero yo también me he imaginado,” I answer quietly.

  Jaylee whips me around to face him, his golden brown eyes wide in surprise.

  “You speak Spanish?”

  “I do,” I answer.

  “But you’re not Spanish, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck. That’s sexy,” Jaylee smiles. “What else?”

  “Well, all of the Romance languages, French, Italian and Portuguese. My degree is in comparative literature. Do you . . .?

  Nevermind,” I say feeling slightly embarrassed. Jaylee looks momentarily less than confident for the first time.

  “I didn’t mean what other languages, Kate. I meant what else you hiding from me?” He shoves a hand into the pocket of his low-slung khakis. “I can tell you right now I’m not as smart as you.”

  I’m speechless. I can’t think of how to explain to him that I don’t care if he’s educated or not, that I don’t want him to be, that I want him exactly as he is. I’m saved from trying to formulate a response because Stephani bursts through the door with Ada and Pearl following closely behind.

  “Hey, Mrs. Champion. Can we order pi
zza? The girls. . .” Stephani trails off and her mouth stays open when she sees Jaylee standing by my bed. I guess most women react this way when they’re blindsided by Jaylee’s looks or maybe Stephani is scandalized to see a young man in my bedroom.

  “Jaylee?” she says.

  My heart sinks as heat rises to my face. Oh God. She knows him.

  “Hey, Stephani. What’s up?” Jaylee says dryly.

  Of course she knows him. They grew up in the same neighborhood. They’re probably the same age. God, they must have gone to school together. Terrible thoughts enter my mind about their history. Jaylee has slept with my sitter. He’s had sex with her or maybe her friends. She’s been in love with him, or even worse, he with her.

  Jaylee moves protectively to my side. He slides his arm around my shoulder and I instinctively move away. Now I’m the one with my mouth hanging open.

  “How do you two know each other?” Stephani says and I think I hear an accusatory tone, but I can’t be sure that it’s not just in my head. She’s certainly never seen me dressed like this before.

  “Jaylee is my salsa dancing partner. We’re going dancing.”

  The lie has no momentum. I feel defeated already. I no longer want to go dancing. It dawns on me that Jaylee and Stephani should be going out together while I stay home and order pizza with the girls. At this point it sounds so much better than embarking on a stupid date that could possibly ruin my life as I know it. Jaylee puts his hand in the middle of my back. I feel like he can hear my thoughts. His touch is simultaneously calming and electric.

  “My credit card is in my purse downstairs. I’ll be right there.”

  This is how I ask her to leave. Stephani takes the hint and brings the girls back downstairs. I turn to Jaylee, again with tears in my eyes.

  “Don’t.”