Wronged Desires

by Lillian MacKenzie Rhine

  “Come on now. Seriously? If you could, you would have interviewed on a Sunday after church service,” she teased.

  “At least the applicants would have been dressed for the part,” I taunted back while we both laughed at my joke. “I scheduled five today. Three out of the five were really good, but the other two were bad apples.”

  “You have to expect some bad ones in the bunch. So any takers?” she asked.

  “There was one applicant who was really cool. She has the experience, and she knows me from college,” I mentioned thinking back on the good vibes I got from the interview with Jessica.

  “That’s great. Sounds like you have a keeper. Well, until I return that is,” she added.

  “Of course. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m doing okay. Catching up on my reading these days. Carlos will be home around the close of this week, and I’ve decided to tell him everything. I know he’s going to be pissed, but I need this weight lifted from my spirit.”

  “Just know that everything will be okay in the end. Remember, I’ll always back you up, no matter what,” I stated, knowing that my words would always be true. Sandra and I had scaled a mountain of drama and emotions over the past few weeks, but now we were past it, hopefully for good.

  “Thanks. I need all the support I can get. I’ll reconnect with you later and please hire the girl with the pizzazz,” she chortled, disconnecting the call.

  The remainder of the evening was spent dozing in and out of sleep, missing Kem with every passing minute. Around eleven o’clock, I got a text that stated, “Love You Always. See you in the morning, Babygirl.” I sank deeper in my bed and brought his pillow into my chest, living in the scent of him.

  The softness of his lips touching my cheek roused me a few hours after his message. It was still dark out. In a fog, I reached out and felt his bare chest in the darkened room. Kem laid his kiss against my traveling palm, and then he moved the comforter back flanking himself atop me. I needed his touch so badly, I crashed my lips against his, deepening our connection as he grasped a fistful of my hair turning my face to allow more of his tongue to travel into my depths. Then his caress touched the bare flesh under my cotton boy shorts, fingering them off. I wanted and needed him so badly that my body responded immediately, misting with each pant of his breath against my mouth. I widened myself, receiving his smooth push, rocking against me. He haphazardly ran his hand down my neck clamping it from behind anchoring as his thrusts increased. My engorged lips parted releasing my labored breaths.

  I must be dreaming.

  Kem nibbled into my shoulder thrusting and pushing with more force. My sounds became louder and his mere raspy grunts became a whimper as he filled me with his love. My head planted backward into the pillow as my climax belted out receiving all of the love that he gave me. I must be dreaming.

  We lay intertwined with naked body parts looped into each other. “Did you find your assistant yesterday?” he asked with the light dawning on his glistening body. Rippled abs, the perfect rounded ass, mighty thighs, perfection.

  “I think I’ve found my Girl Friday,” I joked. “She went to school with us. She’s pretty sharp. Just relocated from Houston and has her own fashion line. Cute as a button, too.”

  “That sounds great. Always have love for my fellow Aggies. I’m assuming that she’ll start tomorrow.”

  “I’ll notify her today and give her the option of coming into the office to sign paperwork and take a tour of the facilities later,” I stated feeling the excitement coursing through my veins.

  Kem yawned, squeezing me into his chest. “My two babies,” he muttered before the soft rumble of his snores followed.

  Knowing that I had to rise in an hour, I relaxed into him, listening to his heartbeat. I felt differently about him. I was no longer concerned with the opinions of others, I just wanted to be with him to the end of my days. We had finally formed our own family unit and my blinders were off. I was ready to start my life for myself and my family.

  * * * *

  Mr. Worshaw was very patient regarding my light workload while I hired and trained a new assistant, so I began to prepare a few spreadsheets for upcoming meetings of the next month attempting to catch myself up to speed. Jessica squealed that morning over the phone when I offered her the job. We scheduled her to come in after lunch and I was awaiting her arrival. The rose-colored sleeveless sheath dress was making me feel like a can of biscuits that needed the cardboard skin pierced. I did look damn good though. A simple strappy black heel, turquoise studs, and a top bun finished off the look that made me want to strip naked for comfort.

  Jessica arrived promptly ten minutes ahead of time in the cutest floral patchwork, keyhole-neck dress. Her energy was addictive as we worked our way through all the mundane paperwork needed to be an employee at Worshaw and Baines. From there, I showed her Sandra’s old desk and she started to lay her personal items out making herself feel at home. One particular item, a gold-framed picture of an adorable brunette woman, put me in the mind of a movie starlet like Audrey Hepburn or Judy Garland.

  “Wow, she is breathtaking.” I took the frame in my hands, admiring the woman.

  “That’s my partner, Tifa,” Jessica offered an awkward, nervous smile.

  “Well Tifa looks like a vintage movie star. Amazing,” I stated placing the picture back on the desk causing Jessica’s smile to brighten. After she unpacked her things, we took a tour around the floor, introducing her to the other admins and execs, then the entire building. Jessica was impressed with the expanse and amenities of the building, vowing to use the fully equipped gym religiously. I personally wouldn’t be caught dead working out at my place of employment. Colleagues watching me sweat is downright disgusting.

  We finished our walk after chatting a bit about the days of college and my wedding to Kemington Sutter. I mentioned that I would be in the office after lunch the following day due to a previously scheduled appointment, so she would officially start at that time. Jessica lingered in the supply closet gathering office items needed for her desk. I chose to say my good-bye at that point leaving her to inventory what she needed in peace. By the time I got back to my office I was panting, deflating like a tightly wrapped balloon. My dress was slowly suffocating me from the thigh on up, so I called it a day making my way home.

  Flying through the door, I shouted, “Honey, I’m home,” without stopping to acknowledge whatever the heavenly aroma that was wafting out of the kitchen. My shoes had met their maker in the car with me driving home barefoot, but the dress was another story. I contorted my body, slinking like a snake to release me from my fabric prison but nothing was working. What the hell? I didn’t have an issue getting in this thing this morning. “Help! Mayday, mayday,” I yelped attempting to tug on the zipper that wouldn’t free.

  Kem ran into the room dressed in his typical graphic tank and shorts that he preferred to wear while at home. “Where’s the fire?” He laughed, watching me squirm uncomfortably.

  “I’m friggin’ Jabba the Hutt from Star Wars over here. Get me out of this thing. Cut it off if you have to,” I whined, turning the zippered side to him. As if the treads were greased in oil, the zipper gave way with no issues when Kem unfastened it.

  “What the hell? I’ve been trying hard to get that thing undone and nothing happened,” I said sucking in the delicious oxygen that had been missed throughout the day.

  Kem shrugged, saying, “Maybe it was like a Chinese finger trap.” Before I could lunge at him, he scattered out of the room and back into the kitchen. Grrr!

  “What’s on the menu? It smells divine,” I shouted from the bedroom, stepping into an oversize tank and neon-blue knee socks. “Chicken marsala,” he shouted back. Ooh, I love chicken marsala, I thought with my stomach agreeing, gurgling with each inhalation of the sinfully delicious smell.

  Tiptoeing into the kitchen I slid behind Kem who was standing at the stove stirring his sauce. He turned his head, kissed my lips, then fully faced me
kneeling to kiss my abdomen. Returning to his task, he asked, “So how was your day?”

  “Considering I felt like I was stuck in the tightest sausage casing in the world, it was pretty damn good. Jessica came in after lunch and set up her desk. She has the most gorgeous girlfriend, like a nineteen fifties movie starlet,” I uttered, dipping a clean wooden spoon into the sauce, tasting the cream mixed with the rich marsala wine. “Mmm, that is awesome. When can we eat? I’m starving.”

  “Cool it, Ms. Jabba the Hutt, dinner will be ready in a few. So, Jessica is a lesbian huh? That’s a nice bit of interesting color added to the Worshaw and Baines pot.” He turned off the flames on the stove and I was bouncing around like a Yorkie needing a treat.

  “I think it’s cool, and I respect her for being open and proud of her sexual orientation. If anyone else at Worshaw and Baines has an issue with it, then they can first take it up with me then the ethics board. And let me tell you, the ethics board will be much more forgiving than I.” I furrowed my brow showing Kem that I meant business. Kem held his hands up in the air, saying, “Looks like Jabba has just morphed into Chewbacca.” We both thundered with laughter. Since dinner was ready, I helped Kem gather plates and utensils to set the table.

  Kem’s rendition of chicken marsala could beat out any five-star restaurant any day of the week. He always went the extra mile adding sliced brown mushrooms, peppers, and parsley to the sauce. The chicken was oozing with cheese and the side salad tangy with balsamic vinegar rendered me speechless until I devoured every ounce. I actually had a second portion and banana pudding Blue Bell ice cream with little frozen chunks of banana and vanilla wafers as dessert.

  The remainder of the evening was spent walking over the grounds with talk of remodeling to accommodate the baby. I was still a little gun-shy about planning for the future but Kem insisted and I wanted him to take part in everything the pregnancy had to offer. The night was beautiful, so we took a serene walk in the garden reminiscing over the plans we drew up with the gardener to model our small vegetable garden to resemble my grandmother’s. No matter what fertilizer we used or what professional came out to consult the vegetables just didn’t thrive or taste like those at the home in Houston. Kem joked that Nan would say that perfection can’t be duplicated. We stood near the pond wondering about the safety of the grounds for a toddler, but Kem promised to get the house in tiptop shape before the baby started moving about the house.

  We both had important early morning appointments, so Kem drew us both a bath, taking care to lather me from head to toe. As he carefully massaged the soap bubbles between each of my toes, I lowered myself farther into the warm liquid cloud of fragrant country apples. In that moment I appreciated having an attentive man to care for my every want and need.

  My mind fluttered to Sandra sitting home alone with Carlos out on the road all the time. Just the thought made a minute part of me understand why she ran into the arms of another man, but sleeping with that man was still something I didn’t agree with, however we all make mistakes. If I had to be honest with myself, I never liked Carlos. Sandra had invited Kem and me to a few holiday parties at their home that should have been filled with joy, but tension shrouded the air instead. It was like lurking in a dark, scary cave with a monster in the shadows. With worry flooding my senses, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful was going to happen when Sandra had her talk with Carlos.

  We soon stepped out of our liquid paradise, drying with our plush terry-cloth bath towels. Free of any clothing to restrict us, we entered the bedroom with me ready for one of Kem’s famous rubdowns. He was kneading baby oil into my shoulders when he asked, “Is everything okay? You’ve been awfully quiet the past few minutes and the tension in your neck is cramping my poor, defenseless hands.”

  I playfully swatted him, saying, “I’m a bit worried about Sandra. She’s going to tell Carlos the truth this week and I have a bad feeling about it.” Kem groaned in sympathy, leaning me back into his chest.

  “Ouch. Carlos is definitely going to freak. What man wouldn’t, but it’s better to have the truth on the table so they can adjust from there.” His reassuring words took the sting of the worry off my heart for a moment.

  “You’re absolutely right. The Santiagos will be able to move forward with a plan that works for them. Plus, I have other things to worry about in my own life.”

  “You shouldn’t be worrying about anything at all. Everything will work out well with their future, but our minds need to stay focused on us as a couple and our child. Tomorrow will be a great day, Babygirl, so no worries,” Kem whispered, fingering my hair behind my ear and kissing my lobe. “I’ll wake up in the morning to feed you breakfast in bed, then I’ll leave for my meeting. Within an hour after that, we’ll be learning about our baby and our world will be perfect.” I smiled, living in his fantasy, relinquishing the last bit of worry I harbored. We shut the lights, talking through the night in the darkened room, too excited to fall asleep.

  Eventually we got a few hours of rest before Kem rose the next morning, making pancakes and sausages for me but using the syrup to drizzle my thighs for his own personal treat. After we both showered the sticky maple away, he dressed, leaving for his meeting. I found a simple baroque-print ruched dress that had a little give in the waist area for my comfort. The diamond studs in my ears were a great accent. I checked the time, determined to get out the house in a timely fashion when my cell phone rang.

  “Hey there, Sandra.”

  The phone shuffled a bit, and then she started to speak in a frantic voice. “Victoria, is it okay if I come stay at your home for a few days?” I was stunned, trying to analyze the actual question.

  “You want to stay for a few days? Okay, you have to explain.” Preoccupied with leaving the house with my purse and car keys in hand, I listened to Sandra divulge her story.

  “After giving it some careful thought, I decided against telling Carlos face-to-face about the baby. I called him Monday evening and on that rare occasion he actually answered his phone. I ripped the Band-Aid off quickly by telling him the short version of the truth when he answered. He was furious. Called me every name in the book.” She was panting as if pacing.

  “Do you want to leave the house before he gets home?” By that time I set the alarm and approached my roadster when she hit me with the news flash.

  “Carlos isn’t coming in town later this week. He’s in town right now. He came in last night waking me out of my sleep and we had a terrible fight. When I got up this morning my car tires were flattened and my windows smashed. All my credit cards and my ID are gone. I’m freaking out and the stress isn’t good for the baby,” she blurted sounding like she was hyperventilating.

  “Sandra, calm down and sit before you end up in the emergency room. Where is he now? Did you call the police?” With my full attention focused, I had blanked out that I was in the process of unlocking my door. I stood, waiting for her response with my appointment at the far reaches of my mind.

  “Of course I didn’t call the police. This is all my fault, plus I don’t know where Carlos is. His car isn’t in the garage. He could be home any moment and I need to get out of here. My heart is racing again and I’m scared.”

  Sandra was panicking and I was freaking out. Sandra’s neighborhood is only a few minutes’ drive down the interstate from my home, so it would be nothing to go get her and drop her off before my appointment, I reasoned with myself.

  “Get some clothes together Sandra, I’m on my way, but we have to be quick. I have a doctor’s appointment in forty minutes.” We ended the call, and I peeled out of the drive. Within ten minutes I was entering the gates of Willoughby Estates, parking in Sandra’s driveway. The front door was cracked and I hesitantly stepped inside the threshold.

  “Sandra?” I shouted looking at the shambles of a house that was once pristine and spotless. The living room was in disarray, with vases shattered on the ground and paintings ripped apart.

  “I’m upst
airs, I’ll be down in two seconds,” she voiced from the second level. Viewing the destruction of her home, I thought it best to send Kem a text message detailing my whereabouts just in case I was running late.

  Sandra stepped slowly down the steps carrying a suitcase and dressed in a Lycra tracksuit. Her tiny baby bump warmed my heart for a moment, and then I snapped back to reality when I noticed a gun sitting on the table. Oh hell, I’m in a crime scene. With my mind racing, I fired an array of questions at Sandra. “What the hell is a gun doing sitting out? Were you going to shoot him, Sandra? Or was he planning on using it on you? Answers now please.”

  Before she could answer, I saw movement out of the periphery of my eye. Carlos Santiago in his six-foot-six inches of glory stepped through the open door into the house. Sandra was frozen on the stairs and I was shaking, watching him from the living room. “Yeah, Sandy, tell her why the gun is sitting out.” Sandra didn’t move an inch. She appeared to be holding her breath while he slowly stalked toward the living room where I stood. An angry crease cut through his brow, and his skin was reddened with anger. I wanted to be invisible in that moment, not knowing what his next move would result in.

  “Sandy, mi amor, escuchame,” he growled with his glare focused on me even though he was speaking with her. “Tell her why my lovely wife has brought out her firearm. Ahora!” I gulped down my breakfast as the spit from his anger foamed around his mouth.

  “Carlos, please. You don’t need to involve Victoria in this. I was going to leave—”

  “And go where!” he shouted facing her. My hands began to shake.

  “I know you’re mad with me, so I wanted to give you some space.” Her stuttering voice was starting to make me nervous.

  “Mi amor, why would you think a thing like that? If I wanted you to leave, you would be gone. Now back to the story of the gun,” he thundered in a thick Spanish accent, facing me again. “Since my wife is not able to explain herself, probably because of the pregnancy—it’s got her head all messed up—I’ll explain. The gun is out because she was planning on using it on me. Poor thing thought I was going to hurt her.” Taking me by surprise, he scooped my hands that gripped my cell phone into his. I inhaled, watching his clenched jaw soften and his eyes warm to me. “You see, Victoria, the thing is, I would never lay a hand on my Sandy. I have loved her since we were babies. But the truth is she has hurt me very deeply.” His eyes became ice once again. “My Sandy, mi bonita amor, has lain with another man.” My phone rang, making me jump out of my skin.