Stay With Me

by Astfalk, Carolyn

  Chris woke again when the sunlight peeked through her drapes, the warm beam hitting him in the eyes. The wall clock said six o’clock. He reached over the back of the couch, careful to move only his arm and not his upper body, where Rebecca still slept with her back to him and her head leaning on his chest. He yanked one drape so that it overlapped the other, blocking the light.

  He glanced down at Rebecca’s head, tracing the trail of her hair as it fell over her shoulder. With a lone finger, he carefully lifted a section of hair and pushed it so that the tangled, wavy softness rested on her right shoulder, leaving the left side of her neck exposed.

  He couldn’t resist. Didn’t even want to. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the tender skin of her neck where he had cleared away her hair. No reaction. He did it again, exerting a little more pressure. This time she let out a breathy sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

  “Mmmmm.”

  A tingling sensation raced through every nerve ending in his body. “Good morning,” he whispered into her ear.

  Again with that sound, “Mmmmm.”

  When he’d said he would spend the night in case she needed him, he hadn’t counted on this. Waking up with her warm and soft against him was courting danger. Still, if he could get her to make that lovesick sigh again…

  With both arms wrapped around her waist, he pulled her back to him so that their bodies were pressed against one another from stem to stern. After two full seconds of bliss, every muscle in her body grew rigid.

  She straightened and started to pull away from him, struggling against his arms at her waist.

  He released her, utterly confused. What had happened? Yes, he was behind her, but he hadn’t snuck up. She had been pleased if those delicious sounds she made were any indication. It must have been when he had pressed himself against her. Oh. She would be able to feel everything through those thin cotton pajamas.

  He got up and followed her across the room to the table where she mindlessly shuffled a few envelopes and papers left there. “I'm sorry, Rebecca. If I get in that kind of proximity to you, especially first thing in the morning, it’s, uh…”—man, this is awkward—“…uh, all systems are go. I don't think I can help it." He paused, and then to reassure her added, “It doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it.”

  Standing with her back toward him, she didn’t acknowledge what he said. He used both hands on her upper arms to turn her toward him.

  She was pale, but that could have been due to the fact she had just awoken. The pain and tears in her eyes couldn’t be dismissed so easily.

  Her shoulders went limp. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not. It was fine when you kissed my neck.” She shook her head again and wiped a single tear from her eye. “Better than fine. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven…but then, when you pulled me tighter, and I could feel you…it just triggered a bad memory.”

  A bad memory? Chris tensed. What hadn’t she told him? Did this have to do with the guy at Bible camp when she was a teenager? She had only said that he came on a little strong. It didn’t sound like the kind of thing that could generate tears years later, but if feeling him against her like that triggered a memory then the incident wasn’t as innocent as she had led him to believe.

  “Is this about this guy from Bible camp? Cause if it is, it sounds like he did a lot more than come on too strong.” He framed her still-pale face in his hands, and her chin quivered. “Rebecca, what did he do to you?”

  She jerked out of his grasp and turned again to the table although this time she pressed her hands into the boards. “Nothing more, really. He couldn’t. John stopped him.”

  “Wait a second.” Chris walked to the other side of the table so he could see her face again. “John? As in Father John?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “And what do you think would have happened if Father John hadn’t been there?”

  Her mouth opened and closed. “I…I don’t. I can’t. I don’t think about it. Nothing did happen. Jeremy grabbed me from behind and pinned me against a wall with his body. Then John came and confronted him, and he left.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her. He could tell from her posture she wouldn’t say any more. He sighed and rubbed his fingers over his eyes and brows. Then he grabbed his phone off the counter and sent a quick text message.

  “Who are you texting?” She sounded anxious, and he’d bet she feared he had texted Father John, which made Chris certain something more happened that she hadn’t yet told him.

  “I texted my mom. I’m going to make you pancakes, and I need her recipe. Do you have syrup?”

  Wiping her eyes once more, she straightened her shoulders. “I think so.” She opened the refrigerator and rearranged several bottles before she located a small jug of maple syrup and set it on the counter.

  “Go ahead and get dressed if you want. I think I can find what I need. I can’t stay long after breakfast though.”

  “Why not?”

  “Remember? I’m helping Tom and his wife move today.”

  “Oh, that’s right.”

  Once they had finished their breakfast, and Rebecca assured him that her pain was almost gone, Chris kissed her and left. He had to hurry if he wanted to fit in a stop before he got to Tom’s apartment.

  ***

  Father John told Chris he could find him in the school gym. The lingering odor of stale sweat and the sound of a ball bouncing on a wooden floor led Chris right to him. He walked through the double doors as Father John dribbled a basketball with one hand and then the other before landing a three-point shot from the edge of the court. Ordinarily, Chris would have joined him, but he figured he’d be getting enough of a workout hauling boxes and furniture the rest of the day. Father John held onto the ball as Chris crossed the gym and once he was within earshot called, “So, what’s on your mind?”

  “Rebecca.”

  Father John smiled as he dribbled the ball. “Is there ever anything else on your mind these days?”

  The dribbling slowed as Chris approached. “I want to know about something that happened when you and Rebecca first met at summer camp.”

  Father John put the ball under his arm and ambled over to Chris. “What do you want to know?”

  Chris took a breath. “I know that some creep named Jeremy tried something with her, and you stopped it, but she won’t say much more.” He snatched the ball from Father John and spun it around between his hands, trying to use up some of his nervous energy. “All I know is that the one time I tried to come up behind her and surprise her, she lost it. Let out an ear-piercing scream and seemed not to even recognize me at first. Then this morning she freaked out when I held her really close, again from behind. The only thing she’d say was that he grabbed her from behind and pinned her to a wall. Then you came and confronted him.”

  Father John ran a hand over his hair. “I haven’t thought about this in years, Chris.”

  “She said he didn’t hurt her. Is she telling me the truth?”

  Father John hesitated, and Chris tensed.

  “Yes, she is. He didn’t physically hurt her. From what you’re saying, she must have been more emotionally bothered by it than she let on at the time.”

  “So she was okay after it happened?”

  “She seemed to be, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  “Does she know you’re talking to me about this?”

  Chris didn’t want to play these games. He needed answers, and if Rebecca wouldn’t supply them, Father John would. “I asked, but she clammed up.”

  “Then it sounds like she’s not ready to talk about it with you.”

  “Listen, if she’s going to wig out every time I come up behind her, then I need to know what happened to her.”

  “I think you should tell her that.”

  Chris groaned. He wanted to take the basketball and slam it into the floor so hard it would bounce up and hit the ceiling.

  Father John sighed. “I think th
is would be better coming from her, but I’ll tell you what I know. It’s not much.”

  “Thank you.” He ran his hand through his hair and waited.

  “Rebecca and I became friends over the first week of camp. We seemed to click. We were going to meet and go over to the rec room to play video games or something. I said I’d meet her at the first-aid office since it was midway between our cabins and the rec room. It started to rain, so when I got there and didn’t see her outside it didn’t surprise me. When I stepped in, Jeremy had her pinned to the wall like she said. He was big enough that his sheer size and body weight were enough to keep her from escaping.” He stopped speaking for a second, and Chris sensed this part would be news to him.

  “He had his hands around her waist, and he was struggling to get her shorts off. Actually, they weren’t shorts. We laughed about it later, but she said those ugly, modest ‘skort’ things her dad made her wear saved her. Apparently they had a clip, a button, and a zipper, and that’s why Jeremy fumbled with them for so long.”

  “He didn’t get them off?”

  “No.”

  Chris let go of the breath he held. “Thank God for skorts.”

  “I yelled for him to stop, and he did. He could’ve easily taken me out, but he didn’t. He sort of shoved her at me and left.”

  “What happened? Was he disciplined? Did you call the police?”

  “We walked over to the camp office and told the counselors what happened. They questioned Jeremy, and his parents came and got him the next day. I never saw him again.”

  “The police?”

  “If charges were filed, that would’ve been up to Rebecca’s father.”

  “You sound doubtful.”

  Father John twisted his lips. “All I know is her dad didn’t come and get her. She stayed the week. And honestly, she seemed okay. We hung out a couple of times after that. Then I didn’t see her again until you brought her to Mass.”

  This made sense. An aggressive guy didn’t affect your behavior eight years later. An attempted rape—and that’s sure what this sounded like—that did.

  “That explains her behavior. I don’t know why she didn’t tell me.”

  “Maybe it embarrasses her? Makes her feel like a victim? Maybe it dredges it all up again. I don’t know.”

  Chris glanced at his watch. He had to leave now if he wanted to get to Tom’s place on time. He tossed the basketball back to Father John. “I’ve got to go. Thanks for filling me in. She hasn’t come to terms with this. It’s obviously still an issue.”

  Pausing at the gym exit, Chris turned around and yelled over the sound of the bouncing basketball. “Hey, Father John!”

  The dribbling stopped, and Father John lifted his chin and met his gaze.

  “Thanks for keeping Rebecca safe.”

  Father John raised his hand.

  Pushing through the gym doors and down the stairs, Chris jogged to the school exit. One side of his mouth lifted in a grin. Father John had told him what he needed to know, but funny how he left out at least one detail from the weeks at camp—that he’d kissed Rebecca before it was all over.

  15

  A Dream So Real

  Rebecca stared at her reflection in Abby’s living room window. “Abby, what’s wrong with me?”

  “I thought you’d never ask. I keep a list. Can you hang on while I grab it?”

  Rebecca flopped backwards on the loveseat and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Abby. I’m being serious. I’m messed up. Why is that?”

  “Mom left, and Dad stayed. They screwed us up royally.” She continued folding baby blankets and burp pads from the heap beside her on the couch. “Is there a particular deficiency you’d like to focus on today?”

  “I’m in love with Chris. I wasn’t sure, and then yesterday morning he was holding me close, and I knew. I think I’ve been in denial for weeks. I’ve got it so bad for him I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin when I’m close to him. And I can’t say it to him. I don’t know why. I want to. I tried to. The words won’t come out of my mouth. He’s been so patient with me, but I know he wants to hear me say it. He needs to hear it...he deserves to hear it.”

  “Does he know, even though you haven’t said it?”

  “How could he?”

  “I know Mom left a lot unsaid when she left, but really, Rebecca. When a man and a woman love each other, they—”

  “Stop it, Abby. You and I both made promises about sex before marriage.” Couldn’t Abby be serious for once? And she’d about had it with her treating her like she was some kind of simpleton because she actually lived what they were taught.

  “Oh, your issues go way deeper than that. Do you let him touch you? Kiss you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then he probably knows.”

  “What do you mean about ‘my issues’?

  Ian let out a cry over the baby monitor.

  “It’s as plain as the nose on Daddy’s face. Hold on.”

  Abby pushed a baby towel she had been folding back onto the pile and walked out of the room. Abby cooed at the baby over the monitor, and it clicked off. Rebecca shut off the companion speaker on the end table next to her. In a few seconds, Abby strolled in with Ian. His pink lips opened in a huge yawn that made him shudder. He looked so cute in his baseball onesie, Rebecca could eat him up.

  “Here,” Rebecca said, holding out her hands, “I’ll take the little butterball.”

  Abby handed the baby over and returned to the couch. She held something that Rebecca hadn’t noticed at first. Abby held it up so she could see it—a picture frame. “Ever seen this?”

  Ian squirmed and fussed in her lap. She bounced him on her knee and squinted at the photo. It looked like a picture of her, only she didn’t remember it being taken or recognize the clothes she wore.

  “It’s Mom,” Abby said.

  Rebecca’s eyes darted back and forth between the picture and her sister, stunned. “I look just like her.”

  “Identical. This was taken when she was twenty-three years old.”

  “Where did you get that?”

  Abby lifted her chin. “I found it in the top of Dad’s closet.”

  “You took it?”

  “Years ago. I wanted a picture of Mom, and he never put any out, so I took this one.” She paused for a few seconds. “Do you get it now, Rebecca? This is why you’ve got a hot guy who’s falling-all-over-himself in love with you, and he’s not getting as much action as Ian is right now.”

  Ian grabbed onto her breast with his hand and tried to latch onto her through her blouse.

  “He wants you,” she told Abby and handed him over.

  “Yeah, and Chris wants you. I’m sure of it. Becca, have you looked at your boyfriend? Because he could probably have any woman he wants. If he rides in on that Harley of his, he could probably have two—at the same time.”

  Why did Abby think this was all about sex? Sex played a part, but not in the way Abby thought. “Abby, us having sex is not the issue. Chris wants to wait as much as I do.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I thought he was Catholic.”

  “He is.” Where was she going with this? Didn’t all Christians believe sex was for marriage?

  “I’ve never met a Catholic yet that had a problem with sex before marriage, living together, birth control or any of it.”

  Her mouth hung open, then closed. “Uh…I don’t know what to say. Chris would take issue with all of that, and from what I’ve read, he’s toeing the line on everything the Catholic Church says.”

  Abby got Ian situated at her breast and sighed. “Okay, so you’re both freaks, which I of course mean in the best, most loving way. You’ve still got issues. Look at that picture again.”

  The frame sat on the pile of unfolded laundry. Rebecca lifted it and stared at the image.

  “What—or rather who—do you think Dad sees when he looks at you?”

  Where was Abby going with this? Of course he’d see her moth
er, but—

  “How much do you know about Mom? Did you know she flirted with anyone with a y chromosome? Did you know that Dad caught her meeting another guy?”

  Her mouth went dry, and Rebecca swallowed hard. “How do you know all this?”

  “Mom kept a journal.”

  “You took that, too?”

  “No, but I read it.”

  The revelations were coming too fast for Rebecca now, and her head spun. “She cheated on Dad?”

  “No, never, but she craved the attention she got from other men. Maybe because Dad didn’t give her any of his. I don’t know. But do you see why Dad has said and done the things he has with you? I mean, besides the fact he’s a mean—” Abby looked at Emma and Ricky, who were both assembling wooden blocks within hearing range, and amended her statement. “Besides the fact he’s a big meanie, do you understand now why he’s had it out for you? And why when that douche bag assaulted you at camp he came down even harder?”

  So much made sense now. “He thinks I’m like her.”’

  “Bingo.” Abby said it like everything was solved. Now that the universe had been explained, Rebecca could run across a flowery summer meadow into Chris’s outstretched arms and everything would be okay. Except it was not okay. What if she were like her mother? Nature versus nurture. Rebecca was a loser on both counts.

  ***

  What did her dad expect her to do? He had called at the crack of dawn complaining that he’d thrown out his back, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. Even the simplest movements could on occasion leave him laid up with an ice pack and unable to manage the simplest chores for the better part of a week. There wasn’t much she could do about his back. He knew that.

  Her dad explained that after twenty-five years with the same company, he had switched home insurance last month to get a better rate. The new insurer sent out an inspector, who noted that a few boards on the front porch were rotted and must be replaced before the new coverage would go into effect. They gave her dad thirty days to make the correction. Thirty days just so happened to be Monday, and he needed to have photographic proof of the project’s completion emailed to the insurance company by Monday at noon. He hadn’t even begun. His back rendered him incapable of completing his weekend project.