Fire Down Below

by Andrea Simonne

  Ben grinned and rolled towards me, his face close to mine. “Yeah, is that right?”

  “You know it is.”

  We smiled at each other—co-conspirators sharing the same secret.

  I leaned in and kissed him, opening his mouth with mine, letting my tongue wander over his. My fingers ran along his jaw scratchy with stubble. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in close and rolled onto his back taking me with him. We kissed like this for a while, my arms up, his hands roaming under my nightgown.

  I sat up to pull it off over my head, but Ben stopped me.

  “Leave it on. I’ve never seen you in anything like this before. It’s so...wholesome.”

  “You mean it’s so ugly.” I glanced down at my thread bare gown. “I’ve been wearing this since I was a teenager.”

  “Did you ever wear it back when I knew you in college?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  He smiled. “I used to wonder what you slept in back then.”

  “Why would you have wondered that?”

  “Because I had a crush on you.”

  “No, you didn’t. Why are you saying that?”

  “Yes, I did. Don’t you remember all those playlists I made for you? I used to hang out after class hoping to run into you, so we could go have coffee together.”

  I was stunned into silence.

  “You didn’t know that?”

  “No...I thought we were just friends. I figured I was too weird for you. Did you really have a crush on me?”

  He nodded.

  I met his gaze, but didn’t say anything. All my memories of that year had just shifted before my eyes and been reshuffled like a deck of cards.

  “Okay,” I said softly. “I’ll leave it on.”

  I reached down and unzipped his pants, putting my hand inside his boxers to feel him. “We’re not leaving your clothes on though.” I smiled. And then I began to undress him, slowly, but not too slowly, enjoying myself as more of his body came into view under the soft glow of my bedroom lamp, running my hands over his legs and chest, taking my time. I bent over him to kiss his stomach and heard him gasp softly. Encouraged I moved farther down and took him in my mouth.

  “Yes...,” he breathed, his hands tangling in my hair.

  I knew exactly what he liked. He liked me to start slow and firm, no teeth, a little tongue, but mostly hands and mouth, and so that’s what I did. Most of all he liked to pull my hair away from my face, so he could watch what I was doing to him. I began to have this little fantasy, almost like a hallucination really, where I was eighteen years old again. I could even smell the flowery perfume I used to wear wafting up from the fibers of my nightgown.

  After a while I pulled my panties off and climbed on top of him. He put his hands on my hips guiding me as I lowered myself down. I’d never had any decent sex back in those days, never had a real boyfriend at all. I lost my virginity when I was nineteen, the summer right after I dropped out of college, to this arrogant jerk named Adam that I dated for all of two weeks. But if I had had a real boyfriend this is exactly how I would have wanted it to be. I would have wanted my first love to be just like Ben. I would have wanted us to have silly fights over inconsequential things, to spend hours obsessing over each other, to laugh at our own private little jokes, to be so into each other that we couldn’t keep our hands from constantly reaching and touching.

  So maybe I never had it back then, but why the heck can’t I have it now?

  Chapter Five

  The Present Day….

  “You look exceptionally pretty today.”

  “Thank you.” I smile at Declan.

  We’re both standing in the lunch room at work, refilling our large mugs with coffee. I had told Declan about Ben’s quick response to my email yesterday before I left work and that I was going out to buy something new to wear.

  “So this is what you bought last night I take it?”

  I nod. I feel sort of nervous, like it’s the first day of school or something. I know I’m blowing this thing all out of proportion. I’m sure Ben probably has a wife or at least a girlfriend, but I still can’t shake the feeling that this lunch has all sorts of possibilities.

  “Let me see you,” Declan says.

  I do a slow turn for him, conscious of the way his eyes linger on my body. “What do you think?”

  “It’s perfect.” He nods, sipping his coffee. “You look sexy, but not like you’re trying to look sexy.”

  I grin because, of course, that’s exactly what I’m hoping to achieve. I’m wearing a dark skirt with a white silk blouse that Suzy and I finally decided on after I tried on at least a dozen different outfits. Declan glances down at my feet. “New shoes too?”

  I smile sheepishly. “Not really, I bought them a couple of months ago. I didn’t have anything to wear them with until now.”

  “I hope Ben is smart enough to appreciate all this.”

  “Probably not, but at least he’ll see that I’m doing well.”

  “I’d say you’re doing more than well, Kate.”

  I shrug and drink some coffee. “How are things with you?” I ask. “What’s happening on the Lorna front?”

  “Em...Lorna and I broke up.”

  “Uh oh. You guys haven’t dated that long.”

  “It wasn’t really working out.”

  “What was wrong with her?” I ask, hoping for some fun details. Occasionally Declan dates some really unusual women. I remember this one who turned out to be in a witch’s coven.

  “Nothing really. I’m making some big changes and I thought it was best that Lorna and I went our separate ways.”

  I stare at him. “What big changes?”

  “Actually, there’s something I need to talk to you about, but let’s talk later,” he says. “Are we still on for tonight?”

  “What big changes? Are you moving back to Dublin?” I know he was considering it for a while. I felt shocked when he told me.

  “I’ll tell you about it later,” he says, noticing some people that just came into the lunchroom.

  My heart sinks. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “Not quite.”

  “Come on, Declan, you know I can’t stand stuff like this. Tell me!”

  He sighs. “All right, listen, I have a meeting that runs until ten. Why don’t you meet me in my office after that and we’ll talk.”

  “Okay.”

  When ten o’clock rolls around I meander down the hall to his office. When Declan was promoted they gave him a large office with an honest-to-goodness view of downtown Seattle and every time I come up here I can’t help feeling a teensy bit jealous. My office is nice and I do have a window, but no view.

  He’s not here yet, so I walk over and stare out of one of the large windows. People always think it rains a lot in Seattle, but it mostly drizzles.

  I take a seat in one of the cushy chairs. I probably should have waited until tonight to talk to Declan about whatever’s going on. He’s coming over to my house because I’m starting a portrait of him. I’ve decided to start painting again.

  I haven’t painted anyone in years, but we were having dinner together after work last week when it came to me. It was a beautiful summer evening and we’d been lucky enough to be seated outside with a view of Elliot Bay. Declan was talking to me about something, flashing his brilliant smile, and as the sun cast a honey gold light all around us, it occurred to me that I’d like to paint him.

  “You want to paint me?” he asked, astonished.

  I nodded, “Yes.”

  Declan was silent for a few seconds before he asked softly. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s been ages since I’ve painted anyone, but sitting here now it occurred to me that I’d really like to paint you.”

  Declan looked out at the Bay for a while and then back to me. “Right, so you’re saying you want to paint my portrait?”

  “You don’t have to let me if you don’t want to,” I said quic
kly, since he was obviously uncomfortable with the idea. “It’s okay, I—”

  He put his hand up to stop me from talking. “I’m just thinking about it, that’s all. Where would you do this?”

  “At my place, I guess. “ I figured I’d put a big drop cloth on the floor of my living room and set up my easel on top of that.

  He nodded slowly. “All right, Kate.”

  “You’ll do it! You’ll sit for me?”

  “Sure, when do you want to start?”

  I considered this. I wasn’t currently seeing anyone. “How about Tuesday?” I asked.

  “Shall we meet after work?

  “That would be perfect. I’ll pick up some Thai for dinner.”

  That’s one of the nice things about Declan, I can’t cook to save my life and I know he doesn’t care. I never have to pretend to be something I’m not with him.

  I don’t know how many guys I’ve dated, and it seems to be getting worse now that I’m older, who have a mental checklist they’re going through to assess whether I’m worthy of them or not. I had one guy tell me my shoe size wasn’t quite his favorite. My shoe size! Not that I don’t have my own checklist, because of course I do. I have a penchant for tall, good looking men. I also don’t like men that are prettier than me—guys who take longer to get ready than I do. I like them to be gorgeous without effort, is how Lauren once described the men I date. Unfortunately many of them have been assholes without effort.

  ***

  “Sorry about running late,” Declan says, coming inside his office. “Things have been busy these past couple of months. All I ever do anymore is go to meetings. I had no idea so many people required such considerable hand holding to merely do their jobs.”

  “I take it the promotion hasn’t been quite what you expected?”

  “You could say that it appears I’ve deluded myself to some degree. I thought I’d still be doing some creative work of my own, but so far that hasn’t been the case.”

  “They’re paying you a good salary though, aren’t they?”

  He studies me, thinking about this. “They are, but money isn’t everything.”

  “Isn’t it? I think a lot of people would disagree with you.”

  He shrugs. “Money is nice, don’t get me wrong, all I’m saying is there are more important things.”

  I get that sinking feeling again and I know what he’s leading up to. “So, you’re moving back to Ireland?”

  Declan gets a funny smile on his face. “Let’s get out of here, shall we? I’d rather talk about this someplace else. There’s a new gelato place that opened up in the Market.”

  “You want to eat gelato at ten o’clock in the morning?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  I roll my eyes. “I wish I were a guy. It must be nice to have so few worries about getting fat that you can actually eat ice cream for breakfast.”

  He smiles. “Ah, come on, Kate. One gelato isn’t going to make you fat. We can go visit your necklace. It’s been ages since it’s seen you. It probably thinks you don’t love it anymore.”

  “Oh, all right,” I say, giving in with a laugh.

  My favorite jewelry store, run by a designer named Jane Moon, is down in Pike Place Market. I treated myself to a pair of intricate ruby earrings for my birthday last year. They were expensive, but I love them. They’re golden hieroglyphic birds with an oval ruby as the eye. The necklace that goes with them costs three times as much. So every once in a while when Declan and I go out for lunch near the Market I wander into Jane Moon’s, so I can drool over what I can’t afford. Declan thinks it’s amusing and calls it “visiting” my necklace.

  ***

  “I’m not moving back to Ireland. I’m staying here. Sev and I are starting our own software firm creating web tools.”

  “What?” My eyes widen in surprise. “Are you serious?” I raise the gelato to my lips, enjoying the burst of lemony flavor. Come to think of it I have noticed that he and Sev have been spending a lot of time together. Sevastion is this Russian guy that Declan is good friends with who’s some important programmer at Microsoft. They met playing soccer together.

  He watches me, apparently enjoying my surprise. “Yes, I’m serious.”

  “You’re starting your own company.” I’m completely dumbfounded. I’m not even sure what to say. “How far into the planning stages are you?”

  “Quite a ways, we’ve already gotten most of our start-up funding. Sev and I have both taken out business loans and we think we’ve found an office space downtown near Pioneer Square.”

  “Wow, but what about your job right now? Are you sure you want to give that up? You just got promoted.”

  “I know, but this is what I’ve always wanted to do. At some point you have to take a chance and go for your dreams, or what’s the point of anything?”

  I nod. “Well, then I’m happy for you. Now that you’re telling me this, it’s easy for me to imagine you being your own boss.”

  Declan grins. “Because I’m such a control freak?”

  “Partly,” I say grinning back. Declan could be an incredible pain in the ass about how he wanted things done, though I had to admit he was usually right. “You’re always so confident and in control. Plus I think you’re talented. I’ll bet you guys are going to do really well.”

  “Thanks,” he says and pauses, “you know, you could come with us if you like.”

  “Quit my job? Wow, how very Jerry Maguire of you to ask.”

  He shrugs and takes a bite of his vanilla gelato. “It’s an idea. We could use someone as creative as you.” He must be noticing the dazed expression on my face because he starts to laugh. “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything.”

  “I know,” I say sheepishly. “I’ve just gotten so comfortable where I am right now. Maybe it would be good for me to take a chance on something new though. Let me think about it—okay?”

  “Fair enough.”

  “When do you think you’re going to give your notice at work?”

  He takes a deep breath. “I’m not entirely sure yet. I’m hoping to tell them by the end of the month.”

  “That soon?” I suddenly feel panic rising as the reality of what he’s told me sinks in. I won’t be seeing Declan at work every day. “We’ll still be friends, won’t we?”

  “Of course we will. We’ll always be friends. Are you okay?”

  I nod, embarrassed because I feel tears filling my eyes. I swallow, trying to get the lump in my throat to go away. I can’t believe I’m reacting this way. “I’m okay,” I finally manage to say.

  He leans in closer and studies me with his deep blue eyes. “Hmm, I know exactly what you need. It’s called gelato therapy. Would you fancy another?”

  I look at the last remnants of the cone I’ve almost finished eating. So much for any worries I had about not getting fat eating ice cream for breakfast. “Sure, why not.”

  Declan grins and I watch as he goes up to the counter. He’s wearing dark burgundy jeans and a short sleeved indigo shirt. I don’t know what it is, but despite living in the states for years now, Declan doesn’t look American. There’s something about the way he dresses, that before he even opens his mouth and speaks, you can already tell that he’s not from around here.

  He turns to me. “What flavor?”

  “Crème brulee.”

  He raises his eyebrows and makes an impressed face. I find myself smiling, despite the sinking feeling I have inside. Change happens. I should know that better than anyone because I’ve always embraced it. It’s just that I can’t imagine not having Declan in my life every day. Only Declan would have me sitting here at ten thirty in the morning eating not one, but two ice creams.

  “Here you are Miss Fancy Pants with your exotic crème brulee,” he says, handing me the cone when he comes back over.

  I nod at his white ice cream. “Are you really having plain old vanilla again?”

  “That I am.” He takes a bite. “Delicious!”

 
“I’m surprised you like vanilla so much. It doesn’t seem like you at all.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because you always like things that are so complex.” And it’s true. For lack of a better word, Declan likes the unfathomable. In art and music—even in his life at work. The more difficult a problem is to solve, the more he seems to enjoy it. “You like abstract art, plus all that bizarre sounding jazz music, and even the books you read. Those complicated detective stories or those Gabriel Garcia Marquez novels, and now you’re telling me that boring old vanilla is your favorite ice cream flavor? I don’t believe it.”

  Declan takes another bite of his gelato, savoring it, as he appears to think over what I’ve said. “You’re forgetting something though. Perhaps you’re not giving vanilla it’s proper due. Perhaps vanilla isn’t boring at all, and is far more complex then you imagine.”

  “Perhaps,” I say, imitating his wonky tone of voice. “You’re full of it and vanilla is boring as hell, but you like it anyway. Perhaps you’re not as complex as you seem.”

  He laughs. “Perhaps, you’re right.”

  ***

  After we polish off our second cones we head over to Jane Moon’s. I walk around her store admiring all the gorgeous jewelry before I finally wind up in front of the glass case that holds my necklace. I realize, with a sinking heart, that one of these days I’m going to come in here and it will be gone. Someone will have purchased it. But I don’t want to think about that day, so for now I’m going to remain in blissful ignorance.

  “Ah, there she is.” Declan comes over and stands next to me. “Hello necklace,” he waves at it, “how have you been? Probably missing your earring sisters I imagine. Your mummy here should bring you home with her. I guess she doesn’t love you enough.”

  I giggle, elbowing him in the chest. “Shut-up!”

  Declan laughs and rolls his eyes. “You should buy the bloody thing! Don’t you have a credit card?”