Insipid

by Christine Brae

  I pushed my seat back and stood up slowly, calmly. “Excuse us, please, everyone. Thank you all for your well wishes.”

  “WILL YOU SLOW down, please?” I yelped, yanking Chris’ arm back to stop him from pulling me across the garden. “Let me take my shoes off first. The heels are digging into the grass and I’m going to leave my ankles behind if you pull me any harder!”

  He finally stopped without letting go of my hand. “Sorry. I’m so fucking upset right now, I’m going to explode!”

  This time, I took the lead. With my shoes in my left hand, we slowly walked down the stone path on the way to the wooded area behind the swimming pool. My childhood playhouse came into view and immediately, I felt both relieved and relaxed. Chris pushed the old wooden door open and I stepped in first, trying to deflect his mood by pasting a sly smile on my face. He followed me inside, watching as I lifted my skirt up to allow my legs the freedom to climb the ladder to the second level where a built-in bed was nestled directly under an elevated roof with a skylight. Chris was so tall that he had to crouch down and remain seated in order to fit into this little loft. His legs dangled down as he sat at the edge of the bed next to me.

  “Okay. Talk,” I ordered, taking his hand in mine.

  “Who the fuck made those seating arrangements? Was it your mother?”

  “No, her secretary does all that. I’m sure she got instructions from my mother to alternate us like they always do in all these events.”

  “I swear, Jae, he’s posed to take you away from me. I watched him all evening. He wouldn’t stop looking at you.”

  “He’s your friend, Chris. Your close friend. Maybe he thinks he’s doing it for you.”

  “Doing what for me? Angling for my girl?”

  “No, no. Trying to make sure that he’s around us all the time. Like watching over me when you’re not there.”

  “That’s bullshit. When you think about it, he has more of a future than I do. I bet everyone wishes you would end up with him.”

  “Stop that crazy talk.” I scooted my backside further up the mattress and lay down on the bed, pulling him towards me at the same time. “Come here.”

  He complied obediently by moving himself upwards until his face was two inches away from mine. He propped himself up on his left elbow while his right hand caressed my face. “I think your mother is playing right into it,” he breathed, right before planting tiny little kisses down my nose.

  “I seriously think she’s trying to challenge you. She’s just looking out for me.”

  “No, she doesn’t think I’m good enough for you. And she may be right. You were born into all this,” he said, waving his free hand in the air, “and I have nothing but a semi-okay athletic ability that isn’t even getting me anywhere at this point.”

  “You, Chris Wilmot, have a super duper athletic ability that recruiters are going to recognize anytime now. And your love,” I said, running my fingers along the side of his face, “is the only thing that will ever be good enough for me. I would give up everything I have to be with you.”

  “I love you, Jae.” His thumb lightly brushed over my eyelids as I closed them momentarily to savor his touch. “Please be patient with me. I want to be able to give you what you’re used to. Once I’ve got my future all figured out, I want to marry you, start a family with you. Will you stay with me, Jae? Please don’t leave me. You’re my home.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Chris bent his head down to kiss me, slowly at first, nipping at my lips until I opened up my mouth to taste him. I enclosed him in my arms and pulled him close to me, running my fingers down his back. We spent a few minutes kissing until his lips left mine and started to inch down my neck towards my breasts.

  “Baby, wait. Let’s go back to your place. We have no protection here.” I gasped, reproaching every single lapse of time without his skin on mine.

  He responded by removing his shirt and gently pulling my straps down to expose me. No words, just his hands on my breasts, his lips trailing a path, alternating between the downward pull of the fabric and the scintillating touch of his tongue. We smiled at each other as we heard the plop of my dress hitting the floor below us. My eyes were lost in his as I eased myself slowly out of my panties. I gently took hold of his face and guided it back up towards me, wrapping my legs around him so that I could feel him through his jeans. He sat up for a few seconds, only to undress himself completely. He spread my legs with his knee and with one gentle push, he filled me.

  “You’re mine, Jae. Only mine. Say it,” he commanded, and his thrusts became rougher, stronger, more intense.

  I was at a loss for words. Not because I didn’t mean it or because I wasn’t sure of it. I was buried in my ecstasy, focused on his movements, his roughness, his severity.

  “Jae, Jae, say it,” he panted as he grabbed my breast and squeezed it sharply.

  My thoughts snapped back to hear his voice as I was wracked by my own convulsion. “Yes! Yes! I’m yours!” I cried.

  And just like that, he released all his doubts inside me, trusting me, giving me everything of himself, his heart, his soul. His life.

  SUMMER IN SAN FRANCISCO is one of the best in the whole world. The weather is warm, but not humid, and the cool breezes are a welcome relief from the rays of the hot sun. My days were spent preparing for the time when I would leave the city to go back to school. Chris had taken a summer job in construction for a company that owned a number of buildings in the downtown area. Surprisingly, not for my father, who still controlled most of the buildings in the vicinity. There were times when I didn’t get to see him for days and tried not to go crazy missing him. My mother made it her main objective to keep me busy, first with apartment hunting in the Stanford area and next with shopping and furnishing what’s going to be my home at least for the next few years while I’m in school.

  I also took an internship at my father’s company, doing the books for him three days a week. We spoke every day and stole quiet moments together either at his place when he wasn’t on call or at my apartment when he had time to swing by while on the road. He still didn’t own a car, but drove a company truck that broke down every so often. I had accepted the fact Chris wasn’t going to be recruited to play professional basketball anytime soon. He had two or three offers to play pro ball outside of the country, but his disappointment at the opportunities hindered his ability to decide fast enough. Pretty soon, the offers dried up. This had made him resentful and angry, and all the more insecure about the differences between our financial situations. I tried to assure him that I didn’t care, and that he could move in with me in the meantime, but he didn’t want to commit. He rarely talked about the future with me; his emphatic blue eyes were often distant and empty. But he told me that we would figure it all out and that he loved me. I believed him. I didn’t know anything else in my life except for the love of my family and the love of Chris.

  On the afternoon of our fourth anniversary, I let myself into his apartment and tidied up, knowing that he would be off from work in a few hours. He still lived in the same place, with one old bed in the middle of the room and a lamp on a makeshift desk. Nothing had changed, but that’s why I loved him so much. He stayed true to himself. If only he would stop trying too hard to prove himself to me. The apartment was warmed considerably by the open window that allowed the bright sun in. The first thing I noticed was his unmade bed, but I thought nothing of the two pillows that lay side by side, hinting at the unthinkable, the impossible. I hustled about the place, making the bed, straightening up and organizing some ingredients on the kitchen counter. I was going to make his favorite spaghetti, complete with garlic bread and a salad and a bottle of his favorite Cabernet, straight from my father’s wine cellar. With two more hours to kill, I decided to go for a quick run.

  One more mile, I thought as I walked briskly towards the corner of Bush and Taylor, resolved to do the uphill climb that awaited me just around the bend. My heart fluttered with excitem
ent as I saw Chris step out into the street. Just as I was about to run towards him, I noticed a woman directly behind him. I watched numbly as she wrenched his shoulders and caused him to turn around to face her. She looked just like him—sun-kissed blonde hair, short and bobbed, her faded jean shorts matching the color of his eyes. She lovingly reached out to him as he gave her a quick peck on the lips and walked away. I turned around and ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction, thinking about the various scenarios to justify what I just saw. Surely, this was all explainable. At least, that’s what I told myself as I made my way back to the apartment.

  I sat in silence on the bed and waited for him to arrive. I was too stunned to cook, too shocked to cry. Up until this point in my life, I had never been abandoned; everyone I loved had loved me back. I just didn’t know how to react. Chris didn’t return until two hours later. By this time, the sun had decided to take a rest for the evening. The room was dark; I sat motionless for more than an hour, staring outside the window at the pigeons and seagulls that paraded the dirty landing in front of me.

  He opened the door and smiled warmly when he saw me. Was that relief that I saw in his face?

  “Did the lights blow out or something? Why are you in the dark?” he asked cordially as he walked towards the bed to greet me. His mouth gaped open in shock as soon as he saw my tear-streaked face. “Jae, baby, what—”

  “I saw you,” I whispered, pronouncing every word succinctly. “Chris. I saw you.”

  “You saw me? Where?”

  “A few hours ago. Leaving Connie’s Pizza.”

  He didn’t say a word, but took a seat next to me on the bed.

  “Who is she?” I asked, and my voice trembled, my ears shutting down at knowing what I was about to find out. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.

  “No one. A friend.”

  “What kind of a friend touches you the way that she did?”

  He sighed and took my hands in his. I will never forget the look in his eyes. They were absent, he wasn’t there. “Listen, Jade, it wasn’t going to work between us anyway. We can never have a future together.” His voice was calm and subdued, like he had been thinking this through for a while.

  “Don’t. Don’t you dare put this on that again!” I yelled. I pushed his hands away and quickly stood up to leave. “I have never, ever, made you feel like you weren’t good enough for me. Nothing ever mattered to me, Chris, only you! Why would you decide this for us?” I jumped up and rushed towards the table to retrieve my purse. My insides were broken; I couldn’t see anything through my tears. I had no hesitation about holding back my emotions. I loved him so much, he needed to know that.

  He watched me for a few seconds until I saw the sudden look of realization on his face. Somehow, he looked frightened. He knew that I was leaving him for good, that this wasn’t a game.

  “No! No!” He screamed as he took two steps toward me, wrapping himself around me tightly, barely giving me any room to breathe and effectively stopping me from moving any further. “No, Jade, please. Please don’t leave. I’m so sorry! I was trying to replace you, to keep myself from falling apart, knowing that I would have to give you up!”

  With all the strength left in me, I shoved him away with my arms. “Why in the world would you have to give me up?” I sobbed.

  “Because I’m not good enough for you. All my life, I thought I would be able to play basketball. I never had a backup plan; no real prospects. Look at me! I’m not even good enough for them. And you. You deserve more than me.”

  “So you sleep with someone else to prove that to me?” I choked the words out. I wanted him to say the right thing, to deny that anything ever happened. I would have forgiven him. My life meant nothing without him.

  “Yes.”

  “The two pillows…” It all made sense then. The lack of time. The vacant eyes. Guilt. That’s what I had been too blind to see for the past few weeks. “The pillows,” I said again, my heart constricting each time I heard my own words.

  “Jade. Please. Please forgive me. I won’t ever see her again. I’ll move away. I’ll live with you while you’re in school. I’ll get over this, accept things as they are. Please.”

  “This is what you wanted, Chris. Congratulations. You sabotaged this yourself and now you’ve successfully pushed me away.” As I said the words, I knew that no other goodbye would ever be as painful as this. An unplanned loss is somewhat easier than a conscious decision to walk away.

  “Jade, please, I’m begging you.” He dropped to his knees in a praying position, tears dripping down from his face onto the blemished wooden floor. You never notice the ground until you’re forced to look down upon it.

  “I’m leaving my heart with you, Chris. From this day on, I will no longer have any use for it. I will never love anyone as much as I loved you.”

  IT WAS ONE of those days I decided to take off from work to get caught up on life at home. It wasn’t unusual for me to take a break immediately after a trip away from the family. As I sat by the kitchen counter checking my work emails, her sweet voice roused me from my thoughts.

  “Hey, Mommy-o!” She bounded down the back staircase that led to the kitchen wearing a white polo shirt tucked into a plaid red and blue kilt that somehow seemed way too short for a school uniform. Her endlessly long legs were straight and perfect, her thick, lustrous hair neatly swept up in a ponytail.

  “Good morning, my darling daughter. Aren’t you running late for class?” I slid off the counter stool and got busy making her breakfast.

  She walked over to me to wrap her arms around my shoulders.

  “Scrambled eggs and toast?” I asked as I kissed her on the forehead.

  “Yes, please.” She turned around to make herself a cup of coffee. “It’s Open House Week. Seniors get to come in late today and we’re a half day, remember?”

  “Oh, yes, I forgot. Is today the day we’re meeting for lunch?” I poured some half and half in her cup.

  She took a seat on the barstool next to me. “Yup! I’ll meet you at 1:00 at Ciao Bella. The one right by Pyott Road.”

  “Sounds good,” I respond. “How was your week?”

  “It was great. We didn’t have any homework. Daddy gave me a ride to Paul’s house for a study group last Wednesday night.” She winked at me in jest. “I think Dad should attend my school functions going forward.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because every time you show up at school, someone calls you a MILF. Josh Roberts and Steve Graus are the latest ones. They saw you last week when you went to the office to drop off my tuition payment.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Not funny, Ci.”

  “I’m serious, Mom! Paul was there and he asked me if I wanted him to beat those guys up. I just laughed about it. Fact of life. Hot mother.”

  Time to change the subject. “How are things with the two of you?”

  Her face lights up immediately, the warmth of her tone reminding me of the innocence of first love. “Great! He’s so busy with his practices and games but we’re doing okay.”

  “Cia, he knows you’re going to Barnard in the fall, right?” I asked cautiously.

  “Yes, Mom, he does,” she answered defensively, rolling her eyes at the same time.

  “And?”

  “He’s hoping to play for Cornell so he says we’ll worry about it when we get there. He’s in on conditional status—he’s missing a grade from History class.” She sounded confident, like this was a sure thing.

  “Ah.” I bobbed my head up and down in understanding. She trusts him completely. She believes in everything he says. I’ve been there before; I know.

  I watched her closely that morning. I don’t know why, but I noticed everything about her that day. The way she added three more cubes of sugar when she thought I wasn’t looking. The squeezing sound of the bottle as she lathered her eggs in catsup. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows. Her unlined eyes. Not a trace of makeup. My natural beauty. So confident, so secur
e.

  “How was your trip, Mom?”

  “Same old. I had to meet with three different clients while I was there, that’s why I stayed all week.”

  Her facial expression changed suddenly and I could tell that her thoughts were focused on something else. “He played for Berkeley, right?”

  “Who?”

  “My real dad. Didn’t you say he played basketball for your school?” She pushed her chair closer to me.

  “He did.”

  “Yeah. I told Paul about him. He thinks it’s so cool that he has the same interest as my father.”

  She’d always been inquisitive and insightful, so it was no surprise that she was asking me these probing questions. We spoke about him often. I wanted to dispel any doubts that she may have had about him, so I figured it was as good a time as any to press on. “Baby girl?”

  “Mmmm?” she let out as she chewed on a piece of toast.

  “Why the sudden barrage of questions about Chris? Are you okay? I know it has something to do with you turning eighteen—are you planning to do anything?”

  “No,” she answered quickly, meeting my eyes. “I’ve just been thinking about him more. Like the similarities between Paul and him. And to be honest with you, I’ve been thinking of you, Mom.”

  “Me? How? Why?” I asked.

  “I want you to be free. I see it more and more. The way you have that blank look on your face, the way you are with Dad. I want you to be happy too. I’m old enough now to see things as they are. I think being in love myself, I just know and appreciate those feelings more.” There it was again. That look filled with so much contentment.

  “Oh, Cia. I’m all right. I made a commitment to your dad and I’m sticking to it. Look around you. We are blessed with so many things. I have you. You’re all I need.”