I couldn’t argue with that logic and smiled as Ethan knelt to take off my shoes. When my feet were bare, he kissed them and ran a hand under the leg of my jeans, caressing my calf. Still kneeling in front of me, he unbuttoned my jeans and slowly slid them down my legs, holding them for me as I stepped out of them.
I ran my hands through his hair as he gazed up at me from the floor, taking in the sight of my body. While I watched, he began to slowly stroke himself, running a tongue over his lips and breathing deeply. I bent down and lifted his face to mine, kissing his full lips. Our tongues met and Ethan’s breath quickened, a soft moan escaping his lips between kisses.
Without saying a word, he walked over to a duffel bag by his bed and began rummaging around inside it. When he found what he was looking for, he sat on the bed and motioned me over. I stood next to him and watched him roll a condom onto me.
“Lie down, please,” he instructed, and I did as he asked.
For once in my life I let go of everything that kept me grounded and gave in to Ethan’s authority. It felt good not to be the one making decisions and maintaining control. Perhaps because of my deviation from the script of my normal behavior, the Daniel voice-over in my head was silent. Instead, I listened to Ethan as he whispered exotic words into my ear.
We lay together afterward, not needing to speak. I stretched out on my stomach while Ethan lightly traced his fingernails across my back, humming a low melody that lulled me to sleep.
CHAPTER 6
When I awoke, the sky outside was gray, and I wondered if it was going to snow. I propped myself on one arm and stared at Ethan. He looked beautiful asleep. His mouth was so tempting that I almost woke him, but I knew if I did, I wouldn’t get back to my room anytime soon. I’d never been one to analyze things too much, so what I really wanted was to hold the memory of the night before somewhere inside me without having to talk about it. To Ethan or to Gretchen.
I shivered after I slid out of bed, but that gave me an idea. As quietly as I could, I added logs to his fire, stirring the coals and watching the wood catch. I hoped he would understand that even though I’d left while he was sleeping, I’d been thinking of his comfort and I had no regrets about our night together.
I put on my jeans but carried the rest of my clothes back to my room. After taking a shower and dressing in a pair of jeans and several layers of shirts, I slipped through the adjoining door into Gretchen’s room. Her quiet, even breathing reassured me that she was asleep, so I went downstairs to the kitchen. It took a while to clean up my mess from the night before. After that, I made myself breakfast, then prepared a tray for Gretchen.
This time I knocked, and heard her call, “Come in.”
She was awake and sitting up, bathed in the warm glow of a lamp, but staring toward the window. “I think it may snow,” she said. “I hope we don’t get snowed in.”
“If it does snow, it’ll be light,” I predicted. “Are you hungry? I remembered that you like French toast.”
“I’m starving,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re bringing me breakfast in bed. It’s like a honeymoon. But a honeymoon in some twisted, Twilight Zone kind of way.”
“If this was your honeymoon, you got robbed,” I said, grinning at her and trying not to look too satiated. While she drank her juice, I said, “You’re planning to take it easy, right?”
“If I had my way, I’d never get out of bed,” she said. “It’s been years since I spoiled myself this way. Usually when I come up here, I’m busy hosting.”
“You don’t have to do that this time. I’ve got my laptop if I want to work. I brought a book if I want to read. But what I’d really like to do is spend time outside. Clear out some cobwebs.”
She rolled her eyes with pleasure as she bit into the French toast. “It’s perfect,” she said. “Why couldn’t you be a dyke?” I laughed, remembering Josh’s joke that I was turning into a lesbian. She went on. “I made arrangements for someone to cook dinners for us, so you won’t be trapped in the kitchen. We’ll be on our own for breakfast and lunch every day.”
“Just tell me what you want,” I said. “I don’t want to bug you, but I won’t neglect you, either. Whenever you want company, all you have to do is say so.”
She nodded, then finished her breakfast while I rebuilt her fire as I had Ethan’s.
It was still overcast when I went outside later. I brought in more logs, then went for a walk, enjoying the sound of the ground crunching under my boots. It didn’t bother me to visit some of Daniel’s favorite places on the property. There was something dreamlike and safe about the weekend. I didn’t know if it was because of Gretchen’s uncharacteristic lassitude or the energy Ethan gave off, but I felt better than I had in months.
When I went inside later, Ethan was downstairs doing yoga in front of the fire. Although he had to have heard me come in, he seemed very much inside himself. I went back to the kitchen and heated water for tea. I was leaning against the counter drinking a cup when Ethan joined me.
“Come here,” he said. “I want to show you something.” I followed him, and we stared through the beveled glass of the front door at the lightly falling snow. “Over there,” he said.
I looked where he pointed and saw a fox moving near the trees. Ethan put his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder, and we watched until it disappeared into the woods.
“Last night,” he said, “was exactly what I needed.”
“Me, too,” I said. “In fact—”
“I’ll race you there,” Ethan said with a laugh, reading my mind.
The fire was still burning in his room, making it so warm that I quickly began to shed my layers of clothes. Unlike he had the night before, Ethan didn’t stop me. He undressed as eagerly as I did, and we tumbled on the bed together with a desire that demanded immediate satisfaction. I discovered that sex with Ethan had the same effect when it was fast and passionate as it did when it was slow and sensual. It left me feeling contented, calm, and comfortable.
Later, lying on blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace, I said, “This is the first time I’ve really relaxed since December.”
“That’s when you broke up?”
“Yeah.” After a pause, I said, “Maybe I’m regressing. I should pay someone to sing lullabies to me until I fall asleep every night.”
“Is that what did it?” Ethan asked. “Damn. I thought it was my sexual prowess.” The expression on my face was all the compliment he needed, and he smiled, then said in a more serious tone, “You’ve had trouble sleeping? That can definitely take its toll after a while.”
“Tell me about it. Do you have a little voice in your head that’s always nagging, questioning, or criticizing you?”
“Not really,” Ethan said. “But I know what you’re talking about.”
“Daniel has one. He calls it his inner voice and treats it like it has its own personality separate from him. I think he inflicted one on me by the power of suggestion. I use an advertising term for mine. It’s the Daniel voice-over, because it sounds like him. I mean it sounds like his voice. He never said the things to me the voice-over says; he’s not a mean person.”
“The voice-over is mean?”
“It’s a bastard, and it kicks in when things get quiet, especially when I’m trying to sleep.”
“But not last night?” When I shook my head, he said, “Does your voice-over usually involve your relationship with Daniel?”
“It sounds off about everything,” I said. “Lately, its favorite topic is Sheila.”
“Sheila Meyers?”
“Yes. We’ve been friends since we were kids. Now she’s Daniel’s best friend. After he and I got together, we were always careful not to put her in the middle.”
“Is that where she is since you broke up?”
“Not really. It’s more complicated. It all started with a stupid publicity stunt that Sheila and Daniel pulled.” After I told him about the Maddie Awards and everything that h
appened afterward, I said, “The publicity machine that successfully ran our careers malfunctioned and wreaked havoc in our personal lives. Josh and Sheila appear to have fended it off. But Daniel and I had other problems. He made some decisions that affected me, and our relationship, without telling me. I’m sure Sheila knew about them. But she didn’t tell me, either.”
“So you feel betrayed,” Ethan surmised. “It can’t help that you and Sheila work together.”
“She’s worked hard to shift public focus to her and Josh. Which means they’ve had to sacrifice the privacy they wanted for their wedding. She and I are able to get along because we don’t talk about Daniel. But I miss my friend. If circumstances were different, she’d be the one I’d turn to. I think Daniel probably does.”
“Do you resent that?”
“Of course I do.”
“What sign are you?” Ethan asked.
“Please don’t. I hate that shit.”
“I’m guessing Scorpio or Taurus.”
“Taurus,” I admitted. “I already know what you’re going to say. We’re placid creatures, but very territorial. When provoked, we paw the ground and charge. But I don’t believe in astrology. I get enough of that at work.” I thought over my last words. “That sort of sums up a lot of things. I make women think a twenty-five-dollar tube of lipstick is going to give them the life of Supermodel Sheila. In fact, it’s not much different from a three-dollar lipstick at any drugstore. That’s work. At home, what I want is a real person, without artifice. Somewhere along the way, that got lost.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t wear lipstick,” Ethan said. I laughed and leaned over to kiss him. We stared at the fire awhile, then he said, “I think it’s good that you and Sheila have to spend time together because of your work. In the long run, that will help you iron out your differences. Avoiding someone is rarely a good way to work things out.”
I nodded, recognizing the wisdom of his words, particularly since they could also be applied to Daniel and me and our past three months apart.
If Gretchen realized that my weekend was punctuated by sexual interludes with Ethan, she didn’t say anything. Nor did Ethan and I feel the need to analyze it. We seemed to share an understanding that this wasn’t the beginning of anything more than a new, somewhat unusual, but definitely fulfilling friendship. He’d been right to tell me to follow my instincts, because I knew that we were meeting each other’s needs without looking for any complications.
I wasn’t sure if Ethan changed his plans because of what was happening between us, but I found that by the time Monday afternoon rolled around and he’d shown no sign of leaving, I was hoping he would stay as long as Gretchen and I did. Especially when I came in from a long walk to find the two of them relaxing downstairs next to a roaring fire.
“Since most of my clients are big Democrats,” Gretchen was saying, “I just hinted that I was spending a few days planning strategy with a new and important New Yorker who had the potential to be a very powerful influence in my life. Can I help it if they assumed I was talking about Hillary and her Senate campaign?”
Ethan burst out laughing and said, “Very clever.”
“I thought so.” Gretchen saw me and said, “Did you have a nice walk? I was just regaling Ethan with our adventures in artificial insemination.”
“Ah,” I said, trying to read his expression.
“You know, it might not be the conventional method, but I don’t think of it as artificial,” Ethan said. “I like the other term for it. Alternative fertilization. We’re already comfortable with the idea of being alternative, and fertilization sounds more life-affirming.”
I sat next to Gretchen on the sofa to take off my hiking boots. While Ethan was talking, he reached over to test my socks for dampness. Apparently satisfied, he kept his hands on my feet and began lightly massaging them. I saw Gretchen take it all in and draw the obvious conclusions, but she merely gave me a Mona Lisa smile and moved her gaze back to Ethan.
“When will you know if it worked?” Ethan asked.
“They do a test after two weeks. If I don’t start my period in the meantime. I’m not even allowing myself to think about it until after the test. I don’t want to be disappointed.”
She shifted and put her feet on my lap, and I absently rubbed them in imitation of the way Ethan was rubbing mine. I was glad she’d told someone what we’d done. I’d felt guilty for telling Adam and Josh that we were thinking about it.
Our conversation flowed into more intimate disclosures about our respective pasts. I gained a new respect for Ethan, who had overcome drug addiction and made a name for himself as one of the country’s preeminent voices on the New Age lecture and workshop circuit. He’d also spearheaded programs working with at-risk teens, including the one that Jeremy was associated with in Eau Claire. I shared what Jeremy had told me about my nephew Nicky being part of Jeremy’s group, and Ethan and I exchanged a smile at that coincidental connection between us.
“If I am pregnant, Blaine and I agreed to wait awhile before telling people,” Gretchen said, returning the conversation to what was uppermost on her mind.
“I won’t say anything to anyone,” Ethan said. “Especially Martin, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Telling Martin would be like—”
“I brought videos,” I rudely interrupted Gretchen. “Who’s up for a Rock Hudson–Doris Day film fest?”
“Blaine, I’m so proud,” Gretchen said. “It’s almost like you’ve graduated and been accepted to Queer College.”
Ethan and I kept Gretchen entertained with imitations of Rock’s Rex Stetson character from Pillow Talk over the following days. By the time Wednesday arrived, with a bright blue sky and a calming warmth that hinted of spring’s arrival, I was ready to fall back into the caffeine-fueled, work-dominated buoyancy of New York City. My mind felt clearer and better able to undertake the hectic schedule that Violet warned me about in an e-mail that I read while I drank my morning coffee. The cozy sounds of Gretchen and Ethan cooking breakfast and laughing in the kitchen were a strange accompaniment to the busy world asserting itself through Violet’s words.
Violet also gave me an update about Gavin. At first, she’d thought that Gavin might not accept the offer to become my personal assistant, the salary being somewhat low by New York City standards. But when he was assured that he would have enough free time to supplement his income with out-call massage clients, and that his weekends would usually be free, he accepted. I agreed to pick him up at the airport on Sunday, amazed that he was able to orchestrate his move from Baltimore so quickly. I decided that in terms of efficiency, he could be the male version of Violet.
Ethan had to leave earlier than us, since he wasn’t driving back to Manhattan. He was speaking at a weekend retreat somewhere in rural Vermont. I helped him load numerous boxes of whatever New Age materials his various activities demanded.
“You folks should just use your psychic powers to communicate with each other and save trees,” I commented, grunting as I loaded the last of the boxes into his rented minivan.
Ethan laughed and handed me a book titled Shamanic Dance. I noticed that he was the author, but before I could open it to see if he’d signed it for me, he said, “Don’t read the inscription in front of me. That always makes me feel stupid.”
“I’m at a loss for words myself,” I said.
“No words necessary,” he said. “It’s been a great week. I feel recharged.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” I agreed, and we hugged goodbye. After he drove away, I opened the book.
Blaine, he’d written, thank you for helping me remember to lighten up. And especially for discovering, with me, that friendship grows in unexpected places. With deep affection, Ethan.
I smiled, thinking how perfectly he’d expressed my thoughts.
Gretchen slept most of the way back to Manhattan. After dropping her at her loft, I went directly to my office at Breslin Evans to catch up on anyth
ing I might have missed. Since Violet had practically done my job as well as hers in my absence, there were only a few contracts to sign and bills to approve. Once those were out of the way, I looked through a folder labeled REAL ESTATE PROSPECTS, which Violet had left to keep me up to speed on the office properties Lillith Allure was considering. As I read through the listings, I stumbled upon the one office that I knew would be the perfect space. I only hoped that Lillith and Frank would like it, too.
Owing to the increasingly rapid drop-off of Internet businesses, valuable office space was popping up left and right. One of the larger, but now diminishing, companies had moved to a smaller office on the Lower East Side. They had vacated two floors at the top of an office building in Chelsea, which had a view of the Hudson River from a terrace that surrounded the building. Because the walls were made entirely of glass, there was light from every angle during the day.
I set the commercial listings aside and riffled through another folder Violet had made of residential listings. My heart sank at the prospects. Even though I’d only lived in Manhattan for three years, I noticed a marked increase in property values for co-ops and condos. I’d learned to shudder at the words “cozy,” which meant cramped; “charming,” which meant inefficiently designed; and “unique,” which translated to, You would never want to live here if it was the last apartment available in Manhattan.
Despite the view of my ex-boyfriend’s garden, my rent stabilized, two-bedroom dive of an apartment was a dream in comparison to some of the cramped quarters that I’d heard about from my coworkers. But I felt like it was time to own a place that I could redesign any way that I wanted. Even though I’d originally imagined undertaking that with Daniel, there was no reason I couldn’t do it on my own. Especially with Gavin’s calm reason and Violet’s enthusiastic input to guide me.
The following morning began with a surprise visit from Lillith, who strode into my office wearing black from the collar of her coat to the tip of her boots. Her hair was pulled into a tight knot, and a stone, suspended from a long chain around her neck, swung back and forth as she walked. The grim look of determination on her face made me wonder if she intended to take off her necklace and beat me with it.
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