Her Smile

by Raven Starr

“Kylie,” he whispered as he fought back the tears burning his eyes.

  He did not want to show his sensitive side, fearing someone looking on might think he’s a punk. And not the man he was. He casually walked up to the front desk and dropped off the plastic card. The young lady behind the counter smiled a wide, crooked smile. He could tell she’d just eaten something because the remnants of something green were stuck in her teeth. Thank God for dark shades.

  Mark nodded and hurried out the door, still clinging to the rose in his hand. Standing in the parking lot staring at his black SUV, he regretted not ordering a driver.

  “Yea, I’ve got a lot of regrets,” Mark murmured as he tossed his overnight bag into the backseat. Settling into the driver’s seat, he knew his first stop would be the nearest Dunkin Doughnuts for a large coffee.

  Mark had a long drive ahead of him and what seemed to be even longer lifetime with Eve. “Jeez.” He started his SUV backed up and pulled, tucking his precious memories away as he gave the hotel one last look. Turning left into traffic, he headed to the first Dunkin Doughnuts.

  Chapter Two

  Mark pumped his stereo and sipped on his now halfway gone large light and sweet coffee. He savored the taste as he bopped his head to the loud music. The interstate seem to stretch on for miles and miles. Endless fucking highway. The bleak surroundings didn’t help to keep his mind on the road, blurred groves of trees on his left broken up by the occasional passing car.

  As the music droned, bewilderment and resentment arose as the miles brought him closer to his undesirable fate. He glanced out the window thinking he saw a tree that resembled Kylie’s beautiful but odd-looking tree. What enigma she is. He turned his head to give the passing tree his total attention.

  That was a big mistake. The blaring sound of an eighteen- wheeler’s horn turned Mark’s attention back to the road. He pulled the steering wheel hard to the right, swerving across the lanes and coming to a stop in the break down lane.

  “Fuck!” Mark exclaimed running his trembling hands through his brown locks. “What the hell am I doing?”

  For the rest of the trip, Mark kept his eyes glued to the road. Finally, around half past four he turned onto Dayton Drive he felt his heart sink deep into the pit of stomach. His stomach made a low growl and threatened to return all the coffee if he didn’t get a hold of himself and right now. As his black SUV crept down his street, he wished he was still on tour. Shit. Get a grip, Mark.

  Mark pulled into his driveway and looked at his four bedrooms, two and half bath house.

  The raised Ranch-style home sat on three acres of land that Mark fenced up by hand, to keep wild women away. He loved the two bay windows in the front, but he wasn’t just admiring the house, he was scanning for movement. I wonder what room she is in. Mark turned off his engine, got out and grabbed his bag, heading for the front door.

  Before he could place his next step, Mark stopped, turned on his heel, and raced back to his ride. He threw open the door again in a mad panic, looking for his rose. It rested on the passenger side seat, waiting patiently. Mark knew if Eve saw it, she would do everything short off burning the house to destroy his favorite keepsake. I need a diversion.

  Mark held the rose in his left hand and threw his blue blazer over his arm, concealing the flower from view. With his right hand, he fumbled in his wallet easing out the Platinum MasterCard, and kissed it goodbye, as he closed the door and headed back to the front door. Eve stood there with a phony, plastic smile plastered on her face. Mark forced himself to smile back.

  “What were you doing?”

  The questions began…“Nothing,” he answered his smile already faded from his handsome face. “Here ya go. Knock yourself out.” He held out the credit card as he brushed past her.

  Once inside he took the stairs two at a time. Upstairs he heard the front door close, then the start of engine.

  “Bitch,” he whispered.

  Mark felt a surge of nervous energy as he paced around his room. He carefully removed his hidden keepsake and sniffed it. My God it smells like her. Okay. I gotta find a hiding spot. Mark walked past the chest of drawers, a picture in a silver frame catching his attention. He picked it up; in the picture was Eve and himself in somewhat happier times. Somewhere between then and now, they had changed and grown a part, only the comfortable somewhat stableness of not being alone kept them together. Eve had been blessed with olive colored skin, dark hair and eyes. The harder he looked at the picture; the only thing he saw in her eyes was dollar signs. Eve’s face was long and when was upset it seems to grow even longer making her resemble a horse. Her square teeth didn’t help matters either. Eve’s smile was nothing like Kylie. Eve’s smile was crooked and had a tooth protruding from her upper gum. Mark then looked at himself in the picture. He wasn’t smiling in fact he had a trapped look on his face. Like a deer in highlights. At thirty five years old, he should be happy.

  Mark looked at the mirror, then back at the picture, and finally again to his reflection. Oh no wait a sec. What’s that? He placed his tanned hand on his face, pulling down his lower lid in order to see his brown eyes better. In his eyes, he saw a glimmer of something in his eyes. The picture captured his dull, expressionless eyes. Mark made a funny face and ran his fingers through his hair. It was full, thick and brown with no visible grey. His skin tanned and taut not wrinkled or loose.

  Mark turned and looked at the flower. He wanted to keep it, to save it so whenever he wanted he could look at it; so he could remember the woman that made him laugh. The only woman that made his heart pound rapidly in his chest.

  His thoughts raced. Where could he hide it? Then the answer came.

  “My study.”

  Mark hurried down the hall a small key and his beloved flower in hand. He unlocked his closed door scurried inside, closing the door hastily after him.

  This locked room was his Fortress of Solitude; he kept it locked which showed his faith in his partner. In his fortress, he could lock out Eve and her bitterness. He sat in his brown leather chair and ran his fingers over the mahogany wood desk. On the left side, he reached down to open the last drawer; it was deep and filled with miscellaneous papers.

  A white linen handkerchief that his mother had given him for Christmas a few years back lay strategically placed on top. Perfect. Mark picked up the handkerchief and placed the flower inside, careful not to damage the petals. After wrapping up his present, he gently set the items back in the drawer. He took another key; smaller than the first and locked up the drawer as a secondary precaution measure.

  Mark leaned back, satisfied with in his efforts of concealing his prize. He knew that Eve would be buying herself into a stupor and if he wanted to get some sleep, he’d better do it right now.

  Absently, he touched the place where he thought his heart lived, and walked out. He doubled checked the lock to make sure no one could enter. After a quick shower, Mark pulled on his grey boxer-briefs, stuffing his extremely large rod into them. Extra large my ass.

  As he flopped down on his sleep number bed. How much money did that credit card have on it? He couldn’t remember. Thank God it wasn’t the black unlimited card. I’d be in debt up to my eyes-balls for sure.

  Mark had given his mother, Karen, that card to keep for safety reasons. Eve was also a damn good snooper. Nothing was safe in his own home, not his money; his heart, or even his sanity, from the talons of the evil Eve. His mother had warned him of women like Eve. Gold diggers she had called them. They can only see your money, not your heart, his mother’s sweet voice reverberated in his head.

  “I know. I know,” Mark said absently answering the phantom voice.

  Mark grabbed his pillow, jammed it under his head, and closed his eyes. The feeling of complete reverence entered his soul the moment Kylie’s sexy face appeared. He lost himself in the power pull of the dream. Mark wiggled his toes and fidgeted with the sheets. He moved his arm to the right, almost alarmed at the presence of a woman beside him. He hadn’t heard Ev
e come home. Tentatively, he pried open his eyes a little peering at the figure next to him.

  Mark swallowed the ball of dread building in his throat. When he finally got the courage to pry his eyes open completely, he was stunned at what he saw. The woman in his bed was not the picky, money hungry sex fiend he thought it was. Instead, Kylie lay sleeping beside him. I must be sleeping.

  Mark rolled on his right side and propped his head on his hand, he intertwined tendrils loose black hair around his fingers. He relished in the silky way it slipped through his grasp. Her chocolate colored skin called out for his attention, and touching her seemed essential, necessary.

  Mark pulled back his hand quickly as a slow moan escaped her perfect pouty lips. I have to be dreaming. His eyes scanned the décor in his room. Everything looked the same except for one major difference. Kylie was in his bed.

  Instinctively he reached out to touch her. Just as his fingertips caressed her cheek, her eyes fluttered and opened slowly. A slow, sleepy, yet intoxicatingly sexy smile appeared.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  Mark leaned close and kissed her, wishing that if this was a dream that he never wake from it. He felt Kylie pull away from him.

  “You okay?” she asked sliding off the bed. Mark loved the short blue chemise she wore.

  The garment was just long enough to cover her taut ass.

  “Wait,” he begged grabbing for her wrist.

  “One second. You don’t wanna kiss me with morning breath, do ya? I’ll be right back” Kylie blew him a kiss and walked into the bathroom adjoining.

  Mark leaned his head against the pillow inhaling her sweet scent. He acted like a man with an addiction. Yea I’m addicted to Kylie. I’m craving every inch of her.

  Bang…bang…bang…

  Mark’s eyes flashed open; he still clung the pillow to his chest.

  “What the hell?” he asked sitting up just in time to see the bedroom door crash open.

  “Didn’t you hear me blowing the horn?” Eve’s voice sounded nasally and irritated.

  “No, I didn’t hear you, Eve. I was sleeping. Ya know sleep, one usually lies down, closes their eyes and uh well they sleep!” Mark was a smart ass, especially when woken up in the manner Eve just did. He threw back the covers in a mad rush.

  “What’s your problem?” she snorted.

  “If you only knew what my problem was, Eve. If you only knew.”

  After that, he stormed downstairs to inspect the damage of three hours of shit shopping. The amount of crap Eve bought would bankrupt anyone else. But a mere fifteen bags from Macy’s wasn’t bad. He had seen worse. Staring at the bags, he could hear Eve’s voice as she chatted on the phone about her latest haul.

  “Some fashion designer she turned out to be,” Mark mumbled and shook his head as he moved the bags to shut the front door.

  He glanced at the pedestrian for a second before closing the door, but something inside him thought he recognized the image. Mark fumbled with the doorknob before opening it and stepping outside. The sun had set hours ago and the night air felt chilly.

  “Jesus, I see her everywhere. I gotta get it together.”

  He felt this irreversible need to get back to sleep, to dream of his beloved.

  “What the hell am I gonna do now?” he asked himself, leaning his back against the door.

  Eve’s annoying tone alerted Mark to Eve’s precise whereabouts in the house. She’s in the kitchen. Mark tiptoed past the swinging kitchen door towards his wet bar. He picked up a bottle of Patron and quietly slipped unnoticed upstairs.

  Chapter Three

  In the weeks since his eye-opening trip to Jersey he struggled with keeping his dreams to himself. Even in his dream Kylie was irresistible. Waking each morning, Mark missed Kylie even more. Her face haunted him. All he wanted was a chance to get to know her, to care for her, to protect her and most importantly, he wanted to love her and be loved by her in return.

  “You’ve only met her once, spent a few hours at some park looking at the world in a different light. Shake it off, man,” a little voice said in the back of his mind.

  “Shut up,” Mark retorted as he turned off the engine.

  His mother’s house was a large six bedroom Victorian on four beautiful landscaped acres, a small stable, almost hidden off to the right, with his mother’s prize horses, and beyond that a man-made pond that made this house the talk of the town.

  Mark ran his nervous fingers through his hair and got out. He strolled up the walk, watching out for his sneaky nephews who loved to play “ambush Uncle Mark.” He raised his fist to knock on the big red and white door when his twin nephews Justin and Jason popped out of the bushes that lined the front yard. They were completely bare-chested and marked up in war paint courtesy of their mother’s red lipstick. Each boy grabbed a leg, and Mark laughed, pretending to stagger as he let the boys pull him down on the soft green grass.

  “Howdy, Uncle Mark. Grandma said you’d be comin over today.” Justin started.

  “Yup she did and we waited for you since after breakfast. What took ya so long? Huh?” Jason finished the sentence his older by four minutes brother had started.

  “That long, huh?”

  Mark looked at both boys and felt his heart ache. He wanted to have his own children one day. Both boys nodded.

  “That’s a pretty long time. Well, what can I do to make it up to you guys?”

  The twins stared at each other. Mark knew that look; they often spoke to one another without using words. I guess I would be closer to my siblings if we shared the same amniotic sack. He loved watching them. His sister Tammy always said he was loopy, but Mark stood fast on his opinion.

  “Guitar Hero!” the boys yelped together.

  “So be it, but…” he held up his index finger, “I gotta talk to grandma first, okay?”

  “You got it, Unkie Mark,” the boys chimed in unison.

  Mark smiled as he stood up brushing the dirt from his jeans.

  “Okay, be good boys.” Mark went back to the door where his mother was standing. “How long you been watching?”

  “Long enough. Guitar Hero, huh? Better you than me. That game drives me crazy.”

  His mother opened her arms and embraced him.

  Mark held on tight afraid if he let go he may fall to pieces.

  “You’re trembling, Mark. Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

  Slowly, Mark straightened, making sure his legs listened to his brain. He opened his mouth but the words were caught in his throat.

  “Come on in, and come talk to me. You two boys come on in,” Karen said her voice soft and gentle.

  “Okay Grandma.” Like a whirlwind the boys ran inside.

  Mark walked through the threshold and immediately felt at ease. The tension of the last few months seemed to melt away. He followed his mother into the den, but his older brother and sister called it the Conversation Palace. His mom loved to listen. As a single parent, she had done everything to make sure all the kids knew they were loved and had someone in their corner at all times. She wanted to help them as much as she could. Sometimes it felt like downright meddling, but Mark needed her guidance.

  He shut the door behind him and shot a knowing glance at his mother.

  “Sit down, Mark. Let’s talk.” She gestured to the chair in front of her.

  “I can’t sit, Mom, I can’t do anything…” The words came out garbled and tangled.

  “You know that’s not true. Where’s all this coming from? Is it Eve again?”

  Mark scoffed. “It’s past Eve, Mom, way past her.”

  He walked over to the big bay window that faced the back yard and looked out.

  “So?” Karen pushed.

  Mark licked his lips. “I met someone.” He heard his mother gasp.

  “Wait before you say anything. About three months in Jersey, I met someone. Mom, she’s the most elegant and sensitive creature God ever created. She’s utterly beautiful, inside and out. I can’t get he
r outta my head.”

  Mark realized he had been pacing.

  “I’m smitten. Jesus this is insane.”

  He ran his shaky hand down his face.

  “Well, did you sleep with her?” his mom said cutting to the quick.

  So direct you gotta love it. “I don’t sleep with everybody. I don’t care what the damned papers say and to answer your question...” He stopped pacing and stared his mother square in the eye so she could see the truth.

  “No, I didn’t sleep with her. I wanted to, but she’s so different. I want it to be the right time for both of us. Not a wham, bam, thank you ma’am sorta deal.”

  “How long did you spend with her?”

  Mark could tell he had piqued his mother interest.

  “A few hours. We walked around some park and just talked. It was wonderful. The best and worst day of my life. I find her then lose her in one night.”

  “So, that’s all okay. Eve can’t blame you…”

  “No, it’s not okay, Mom. It’s not about Eve. I can’t stop thinking about her. I dream about her all the time. I long to hold her in my arms. I feel so disconnected from everything.”

  Mark sat in the chair across from his mother.

  “I can’t forget her. I tried to pretend my heart doesn’t ache for her. Her smile is the most precious and wonderful sight in my eyes. She takes my breath away. When I look into her eyes I see my purpose.”

  Mark poured his feeling out, as he had never done before. Getting women had never been a problem for him. His only problem was too many girls and not enough time to screw them all. Now he was all twisted around, feeling insecure and a tad bit vulnerable by one female. It was driving him mad.

  “She captured a piece of my soul, Mom. What am I supposed to do?”

  Mark could no longer contain the tears. He wiped them away, but they were quickly replaced.

  “Oh Mark,” Karen threw her arms around her son. “It’s okay.”

  For the first time since was he a boy, he wept sadly in his mother’s arms.

  Chapter Four