Champagne for Christmas

by Joachim Jean

  “What happened to the necklace?”

  “I gathered up all the stones I could find and my mother had them restrung with pearls in-between each one. I still have it, and it’s one of my favorites. I wear it often.”

  “What a story,” he said, hugging her tightly to him.

  “You can have it if you want,” she obliged, closing her eyes.

  “Maybe not exactly, but it gives me an idea. Do you mind if I use a necklace between Annie and her dad?”

  “Go ahead,” she replied.

  “Coffee’s ready,” he changed the subject, opening his arms to release her.

  She sat back, feeling weak as the painful memory slowly left her. When she turned around, Clint was standing next to the sofa, handing her a cup.

  “Just the way you like it,” he said.

  She smiled up at him and took a sip.

  ****

  Some days, frustration ruled and work didn’t happen.

  “This is the worst piece of shit ever written,” Clint hollered, rifling the script across the room into the wall.

  Nina jumped. “No, it’s not.”

  “Yes, it is. It stinks. Smells so bad I’m sick to my stomach all the way over here.”

  Nina bent down to pick up the thick manuscript. She brushed it off and approached him, placing her hand on his arm. “Writing is hard, Clint. It’s okay. The play is coming along. Come, take a walk. Let’s go to the café and have an iced coffee.”

  “Nah.” He turned away. “It’s lousy.”

  Nina put the script down. “It’s fine, Clint. Now, shut up. Let’s go. We’re getting out of the house because I said so.” She stomped her foot and fisted her hands on her hips.

  He eyed her mad little face and chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

  “Don’t push me. Come on.”

  “Okay, okay. Won’t hurt to take a little break. But it’s still lousy.”

  “See how you feel after a mocha latte,” she said, pulling him through the doorway and out into the fresh air and sunshine.

  As their professional relationship seesawed between belligerence and bliss, their love for each other grew. When they didn’t work late into the night, they made love. Clint was skilled, bringing her to orgasm quickly and often. Nina surprised him with her inventiveness and her ability to suggest new places and positions for lovemaking and to satisfy him every time.

  Although he started the transition to her house on Monday, it took him to the end of the week to move the last of his belongings into her house. She helped him organize his clothes into the closet and drawers. When they were done, they sat down in the kitchen to coffee.

  “We’re closing in on the end of the play,” Clint said.

  “Good. We’ve only got three weeks left before you go back.”

  “I have to finish before school starts, but us…about us after school starts…are you going back to the city?”

  She shook her head. “I have to stay until around September fifteenth because I’m having my floors refinished in the City, and I can’t return until they’re done.”

  “Let’s get to work. We’re running out of time,” he abruptly changed topics.

  He paced in silence while Nina made another pot of coffee. She glanced up at him. He attempted a small smile. She frowned, shrugging, and moved around in the kitchen, careful to avoid brushing up against him.

  Clint slowly eased down into the chair facing his laptop. “The way to fix that scene is to—”

  Nina did an about-face. “She needs to walk away, maybe to the—”

  “Right! And she threatens to jump—”

  “Unless he does what she—”

  “Demands. Right then and—”

  “No waiting.”

  Clint typed as fast as his fingers could fly. Nina took her mug and stood behind him. She squeezed his shoulder and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. Day after day, they grew closer, molding and shaping his basic play into something with bite, character, wit, and a tight plot.

  Nina’s cell rang, and she settled herself on the sofa before she answered it.

  “Hi, Baby,” came over the device.

  Crap! Norman…not now. She closed her eyes. “Norman, what a surprise.” Nina choked out, the smile falling from her face.

  “Calling to see if you’ve changed your mind about us.”

  “Don’t think so. I’ve been busy with something else.”

  “Another man?”

  “A play.” Nina tucked one leg under her.

  “And?”

  “I’m a muse. Can you imagine…a muse at my age?”

  “Honey, I can imagine more than that,” Norman said.

  Nina’s cheeks reddened. Though she turned away from Clint, it was not in time, and he cocked an eyebrow. “Darling, the play is wonderful. Fabulous. I’m helping the playwright...not actually writing it…helping.”

  “Sleeping with this guy?” Nina detected the edge in his voice.

  The heat in Nina’s face dialed up to sizzling. “He wants me to star in it. The part is perfect for me, and I love it. I want you to read it.”

  “Fine. Have dinner with me and bring it along,” he coaxed.

  “Really?” She pulled her leg from underneath her and pushed to her feet.

  “Of course…a long dinner.”

  “You’re not still mad about our break-up?” Nina combed her hair with her fingers.

  “I’ll deal,” he said.

  “Good.”

  “So, you’ll bring the play when we have…uh…dinner?”

  “I will.” She jumped up and down twice.

  “Good. Wear that red dress, the low-cut one. I love that dress on you…and then on the floor.” He chuckled.

  “Norman,” Nina protested.

  “When will this Shakespearean masterpiece be ready?”

  “I’ll be giving it to Fran in about a month.”

  “Call me after she sees it.”

  Nina bit her lip, suppressing a smile. “Wonderful, darling. I will…and thank you, Norman,” she cooed, before she hung up the phone.

  Clint’s face had turned beet red. “Darling? Darling? Who the hell was that?” He slammed his coffee mug on the table, spilling the contents.

  “I’ve known Norman for ages, Clint.”

  “So? Do you have to call him ‘darling’?” Clint got up out of his chair and paced in the living room.

  “You’re jealous?”

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” He stopped to wipe up the spill.

  “Because I’m taking your play to be read by Norman Fallon, the Broadway producer,” she answered, sitting back in her armchair, wearing a smug smile.

  “Norman Fallon? That was Norman Fallon?”

  She nodded.

  “You know him?”

  “I used to be an actress, Clint. I know people in the theater. Norman is going to love it. It’s a great play, sweetheart,” she said, approaching him.

  “Really? Norman Fallon?”

  She nodded again. He’s not using me to get to Broadway, is he? No, Clint wouldn’t do that.

  “How can I thank you?”

  She sank down on the loveseat and tugged him with her. Once there, Clint pulled her to him for a passionate kiss. Nina wound her arms around his neck and moved closer. Clint buried his lips in her neck, leaving small kisses up and down the sensitive column of her throat.

  “You’re having dinner with him?”

  “Um hmm,” she murmured, her eyes closed.

  “You’re going to sleep with him?”

  “I hope not.”

  Clint jumped back. “Are you going to sleep with him to get the play produced?”

  “Not if I don’t have to.”

  He bolted upright. “What?”

  “Norman and I are…uh…old friends. We’ve been lovers on and off since Henry died.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Of course not. I won’t have to. The play can stand on its own.”

&nbs
p; “Damn right, it can. I don’t want you sleeping with this guy, no matter who he is.”

  “But if—”

  “You belong to me. And I don’t share,” he said, crushing her to him.

  Nina sank into his embrace, reveling in his warmth, the sweet scent of his skin, and the clean smell of his freshly ironed shirt. She was exactly where she wanted to be. A deep contentment swept over her.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “Something just right,” she whispered.

  Clint closed his mouth down on hers in a possessive kiss. Nina responded fully, opening her lips and melting against him.

  When they broke, she went to the kitchen to prepare lunch. Clint went to the computer and began to write, stopping from time to time to read dialogue aloud, edit, and then read again. Soon they were side by side at the long, kitchen table, writing, reciting the lines in character, arguing, and making changes to the last scenes of Act II. Then, they worked through a dinner of hastily constructed sandwiches as they revised, read aloud, and re-wrote.

  When the clock chimed ten, Nina yawned, stood up, and took Clint’s hand.

  “I have to work,” he protested.

  She tugged. “We worked last night, and the night before, until midnight.”

  He shot her a wicked grin and stood then followed her up the stairs. Once in the bedroom, Nina peeled off her T-shirt and shorts. She turned on the small light on the nightstand. Clint ripped his shirt over his head and tossed it on a chair. She wound her arms around his waist and kissed his chest. He snapped open her bra and reached out with his foot to push the door closed.

  Chapter Five

  The few weeks they shared living quarters flew by as they were immersed in writing and revising during the day and cooking dinner together and making love at night. Nina was happy, and if the expression on his face was accurate, she judged Clint was too. She tried to be aware of every minute of every day, but time slipped through her fingers like the rush of water from a hose. She refused to let sadness at his eventual departure wreck their time together, so she pushed it out of her mind and focused on the present.

  By the middle of August, the first draft of the “Happy Family” was completed, and it was time for Clint to return to New York City. It was a hot Tuesday morning. The sun was bright, and there was little breeze. Nina sat in the shade drinking iced coffee while Clint gathered his things and began to pack.

  She noticed his possessions had spread out around her home while he was there, slowly weaving into the fabric of her life. Items of his could be found in every room. Shears in the garage, razor and shave cream in the bathroom, dictionary in the den. She enjoyed seeing these small reminders of him when she walked through the house. His presence had crept into her life, seeping into every crevice. She’d grown accustomed to having him around.

  Saddened by his impending departure, Nina nonetheless accepted it. School was about to begin, and the board required his presence ten days before the first day. In addition, he tacked on a few to spend with Cory before the boy went back to his fancy boarding school.

  Restless, Nina moved about the deck, fixing this, straightening that. She weeded the flower box three times and rearranged the chairs twice. Glancing up, she saw Clint through the window of the master bedroom. He smiled down at her, and she waved back.

  Unable to sit still, she joined him. “How’s the packing coming?”

  “Can’t believe how much stuff I have, and that it’s all over your house.” He shook his head.

  “I like that you settled in. I’m going to—” Nina turned away from him as her breath caught in her throat.

  “I’m going to miss you, too, honey.” Clint took a step toward her.

  Blinking furiously, Nina managed to keep her tears in check, but only for a moment. “A month! A month. I’m trying to be a grown-up here.” Nina sniffled and reached for the box of tissues.

  “It’ll pass quickly.”

  She turned around and fell into his arms, sobbing against his chest. Clint stroked her hair and held her close. “Not quickly enough,” she finally replied, moving away from him, wiping her nose and face.

  “Especially in the bedroom…”

  His comment made her laugh and broke the tension.

  “I need time to work out my lesson plans, get school under control, and go over the play, do some revisions to be ready when you return.”

  That night, they went to Homer’s to dine outside. Even though the sun was almost down, it was still very warm. Sitting on the deck overlooking Cedar Lake, the heat seeped into Nina’s skin. Perspiration was soaking her hair. Clint wiped his face with his napkin several times. Drinking wine only made her hotter.

  She picked up her glass. “This isn’t cooling me off.”

  “Me, neither. Might have to change to beer,” he said.

  “Iced tea.”

  They finished their dinner, but lingered in the parking lot.

  “Let’s stroll around the lake,” she suggested.

  “That’s a three mile stroll, Nina.”

  “I know. Too hot to go home.”

  Clint took her hand, and they wandered along the road that paralleled the lake. The moon was almost full and lit their way with silver light. The more she walked, the more her shorts stuck to her. They came upon a copse of trees hiding a rundown, deserted dock.

  “Come on.” She pulled him by the hand.

  “What the…?” He laughed softly and followed her.

  “Let’s go for a swim.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Why not? There’s no one here. Come on. Be adventurous.” Nina slipped her T-shirt over her head then slid her shorts down. “Help me, please,” she asked, turning her back to him.

  Clint gave a wicked chuckle and unhooked her bra. “Naked, huh?”

  “No boxers. Buck naked, mister!”

  When they were both undressed, he took her hand and gingerly walked out to the end of the dock. While still covered by the shadows of leafy trees, he sat, pulling her down next to him. They dangled their legs in the water.

  “It’s warm,” she said, kicking her feet.

  “Hey, no splashing!”

  “Are you a man or a mouse?”

  “I’ll show you how much of a man I am,” he growled, bending down to kiss her.

  A little kiss grew to be passionate as his hand slipped over her breast. Nina put her arms up, giving him more access to her body. She fastened her fingers behind his neck as their kissing and caressing increased. Suddenly, she broke from him, breathing heavily. “In the water…”

  Clint quickly descended the ladder before he could be spotted. Nina followed. Once at the bottom, she let go until she was totally underwater, then surfaced, smiling at the moon. With one hand, she brushed her wet hair back, with the other she gripped a rung and stayed steady.

  “It feels great! You were right,” Clint said, treading water across from her.

  “Even though it’s warm, it’s still refreshing.”

  He fastened one hand on the ladder again and put the other on her bare waist, pulling her closer to him while he rested one leg on a rung. She moved over and sat on his thigh, snaking her arm around him. His mouth found hers in the dark, and he kissed her with passion.

  Nina picked up her head to speak. “Clint, I…I…”

  But his mouth came down again on hers, his tongue slipping past her lips, dancing with hers as he squeezed her breast. She slid her hands up his chest. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she shifted her weight. Clint put both feet on the lowest ladder rung, keeping the water above their waists as his hand moved down her back to squeeze her behind then move to her thighs.

  Nina pushed her breasts against his chest. Her nipples were firm, but rubbing against his wet body, they became harder. Desire shot through her as he hardened against her thigh in response. She wrapped her legs around his middle, and he explored her core, his fingers dipping inside.

  She gasped. “Oh, God.”

 
; “You okay, baby?”

  “More than…” she breathed, licking lake water off his neck.

  He moaned as her tongue glided over his skin. She wriggled her hips and felt him remove his fingers, only to have him slide his erection inside. Her head went limp against his chest, pleasure coursing through her veins. They stayed still, connected and covered by water for a bit. She looked up into his eyes, lit by moonbeams. Then, Clint slipped his hand to her waist and moved her up and down on him as she emitted little sounds from her throat.

  “Honey…baby…angel…” he muttered planting tiny kisses onto her wet hair.

  Nina struggled to get control, though her growing excitement kept interrupting her concentration. Finally she gave up and rested against him, letting him take over completely. The steady rhythm of their bodies kept the flames of desire growing slowly. She wanted more, wanted it faster, but Clint appeared content with the pace.

  “More…” she murmured.

  “Slow, baby, slow is more intense…more…pleasure,” he whispered.

  Nina tried to relax, but their passion grew until it took her over the top, desire spiraling out of control, and her body tensed.

  “Oh, my God,” she cried as release filled her, pushing rational thought out of her brain.

  Clint kept going for a little until she felt his hand tighten on her flesh and pull her down on him hard. He groaned. When his climax was over, he let out a breath and relaxed his grip. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to fall under.”

  “I’m fine. That was…incredible,” she whispered.

  “Something to remember for the next few weeks,” he said.

  She put her cheek against his damp chest and smiled. Clint let her go, and the pair moved out on their own to swim. Nina did a few elementary backstrokes then lay on her back, treading water, letting the moon kiss her breasts as Clint swam up to her doing an almost silent breaststroke.

  “You look beautiful, like a mermaid.”

  “I love you,” she said, so softly it was almost a whisper.

  “I love you, too.”

  “Do you think we can keep it alive for a month apart?”