Louis was reluctant, but Marvin didn’t care if he had to do it all alone.
Later, he remembered thinking that it was like a dream. He was exhilarated afterward. He felt so powerful. How easily he could control someone’s life. Of course, he was the only one who felt that way. That made sense. Who else had his inner strength back then? Who else was so unafraid of punishments and unafraid of challenging God’s wrath?
He could go back to all that. He was confident. His power was returning.
Let them think they lived in a protective cocoon never to be touched by someone like him. Let them be unaware, as unaware as she was that night.
He could come out of the darkness again, just as swiftly and firmly.
First, he’d get some sort of monetary satisfaction for sure. And then … his lips were salty wet with the images.
They’ll never be free of me.
The thought energized him. Rage went away. He was happy again. Celebrations loomed ahead. He turned on the radio, and in moments he was back in high school, strutting through the hallways, aware of the eyes of girls who were watching and whispering about him.
‘Would you dare?’
Giggles.
‘I would,’ she would say.
The others would look shocked, but then they would look at him again and they would wish they had the courage.
Was that his own laughter?
It seemed to catch up to him like someone or something he had left at the side of the road years ago.
‘Welcome back,’ he muttered.
TWELVE
She shrieked when they took their first bounce. Bart was obviously showing off. His boat was really too fast for the small lake and she could see people in rowboats and small sailboats glaring at them with displeasure. He had shot off from the dock and turned so sharply that she fell against him. He, too, saw the way his driving was annoying some, so he slowed and they cruised for a few moments.
‘I have to move this boat to a bigger lake,’ he said. ‘I’ve been thinking of an inboard anyway. You waterski on this lake with a boat like this and you do a full circle in ten minutes. By the way, you’re going to waterski and you’re going to learn how to run this ship so I can,’ he said as if it was a fait accompli that they would spend weekends together.
She smiled and sat back. Now that they were cruising at a more comfortable pace, she closed her eyes and soaked up the sun and the scent of the water. She sensed he was close but she didn’t open her eyes until after he had kissed her.
‘Couldn’t help it,’ he said. ‘You’re too beautiful to resist.’
Am I? she wondered. He sounded sincere.
When, during the past four years – the past six – had she felt this comfortable, this pleased? There was nothing about Bart’s attention that unnerved her. In fact, she was surprised to see and feel his vulnerability. He was the one who seemed nervous all the time, not her. Shows you really don’t know anyone, she thought.
He got her to take the wheel and for a while, with his arms around her shoulders, his lips at her ear, he instructed her on how to drive the boat. It wasn’t really difficult, but keeping an eye on where you were going and how close you were to other boats, waterskiers and even people swimming near their boats required strict concentration. Finally, he pulled back on the accelerator and brought them to a stop at the east end of the lake.
‘It’s a little rocky in there,’ he said, nodding at the small cove. ‘We’re better off anchoring here for lunch.’
He dropped the anchor and sat back in the rear of the boat on the cushioned bench. He smiled at her and then lay his head back, closing his eyes. Looking at him, without him looking back at her, she felt she could study him more intently. He was a very handsome man, very athletic-looking, with his broad shoulders and a tight waist. For years now, she had glided along on a shelf of low self-esteem. It didn’t surprise her that she kept asking herself why he wanted to be with her. He could be with the most promising, best-looking women. Why wasn’t he involved with someone? Could it be that he simply wanted conquests and no commitments, at least for a while yet, and she was just another interesting possibility, maybe even because of her history rather than in spite of it?
She was so tired of thinking the worst of everyone, especially young men. Couldn’t she take a chance on someone, just once? So she’d be disappointed – so what? Look what she had survived already. Relax, Victoria Myers, she told herself. Defrost.
He looked at her and smiled. ‘How about a dip?’ he said. ‘It’s a pretty good place for it. We’ve got a little privacy.’
She nodded and slipped off her clothes, down to the new bathing suit beneath. He had taken his pants off when they had boarded and was in his suit. He took off his T-shirt, looked at her and then dove into the water, slicing the surface so smoothly that he hardly splashed. She recalled now that he had been on the school’s swimming team. He bobbed and beckoned.
‘It’s great,’ he said.
‘I can’t dive like that,’ she said and sat on the edge of the boat. Then, before she could lower herself in, he reached up and put his hands on her hips to lift her and gently dip her in beside him.
She screeched with delight. ‘It’s cold!’
‘Not after a minute or so,’ he said.
She swam away from him and then back to the boat. She reached up to grab the side for a sense of security. He swam over and did the same.
‘Happy?’ he asked.
She was surprised at the question. It sounded as if he thought she might never be.
‘It’s fun, yes. I haven’t swum for … a long time.’
‘It’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget how.’
He moved closer. ‘I don’t mean this to sound bad in any way,’ he said, ‘but doing things with you … it’s like doing them for the first time. Just like last night. I’ve been to Dante’s often, as I told you, but it felt new.’
‘I’m the one who’s starting over,’ she said. It was a terribly revealing comment. She realized it the moment she had uttered it, but he smiled and nodded.
‘Start everything over with me,’ he told her and kissed her, both holding on to the boat, his left hand on her shoulder.
‘Hungry?’
‘Suddenly ravenous,’ she said. He boosted himself up and into the boat and then reached over to take her hand. Before she could try to get back in, he lifted her under her arms and for a moment held her there, smiling.
‘Don’t you dare,’ she said.
He laughed. ‘There’s a toll to pay or else.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Kiss me.’
‘Blackmail,’ she said, but she did and then he helped her aboard.
‘You knew I was tempted even after you paid the blackmail, don’t you?’
‘I’m not a small fish you throw back in.’
‘No, you’re quite a catch,’ he said. He handed her a towel and went for their sandwiches. He had a little table that folded out by the cushioned bench. The boat rocked but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Behind them and to their right, other small motor boats were bouncing over the water, all staying their distance.
‘Busy out here today,’ he said, unwrapping her sandwich for her and opening a soda. Then he sat beside her.
She bit into her sandwich and nodded. ‘Fresh turkey. It’s delicious.’
‘Yeah, I’ve always liked that place.’
She chewed and thought about Top’s Diner. Marvin Hacker’s hateful look gave her the shivers.
‘So, Marvin Hacker really resents you? From what you told me, that is.’
‘Whatever,’ Bart said. ‘I can’t turn the customers away just to please him.’
‘I remember him and his brother, of course. Weren’t you friends with them?’
‘We hung out for a while,’ he said.
‘Well, I guess you had something in common.’
‘What?’ he asked sharply, so sharply that it took her back for a moment.
�
�Cars,’ she said, shrugging.
‘Right. Cars.’
‘Weren’t they driving years before they were legal?’
‘Yeah. So, how about we get you up on skis today?’ he asked, changing the subject abruptly. ‘I’ll show you exactly how to do it. It’s really easy and I know you’ll love it.’
‘I don’t know. It looks hard.’
‘It isn’t,’ he insisted. ‘We’ll go to a quieter, safer part of the lake after we eat. I want you to practice running the boat, too. I would like to get up on skis today as well.’
‘Do you think I’ll be that good that fast?’
‘Victoria, you’re that good now,’ he said, smiling.
She laughed. I’m a kid again, she thought, innocent and excited, and it feels wonderful.
He took her to an area of the lake where she could stand while he went through the basics of waterskiing.
‘All we’re going to do today is get you up and going for a little while. You might fall once or twice, but don’t get discouraged, OK?’ he said.
She was nervous, but she went for it and, surprisingly, after only one fall, she was up. He took her on a small circle, going just fast enough to keep her standing. After that, he carefully reviewed what she was doing wrong and they went at it again. This time she did do better. Maybe it was easy, but she had a terrific sense of accomplishment.
They spent the next hour on getting her better at running the boat. When he felt she was doing it well enough, he told her exactly where to go with him on the skis. She could watch him in the rearview mirror. They practiced his getting up and her moving forward three times before he said she was ready for the wide circle.
Nothing – not even learning how to drive a car – matched the excitement and self-satisfaction when she took him around the lake for what was a good fifteen-minute turn. When they returned to the starting point, he was all smiles.
‘You’re a natural,’ he cried from the water. ‘We’re a real team now.’
She laughed and helped him get everything together.
‘How do you feel?’ he asked when they were ready to start back to where he kept his boat docked.
‘Exhilarated,’ she replied.
‘I have an idea, if you’re not too tired,’ he said, practically shouting now as they were heading back quickly, the boat bouncing, spray all around them.
‘What? And don’t tell me another sport.’
He laughed. ‘No, I was thinking we’d stop to get some Chinese on the way back and have it at my place. What do you think?’ She hesitated. ‘Unless, you think it’s too much,’ he added quickly.
‘No. No, it’s a great idea,’ she said. She had come a long way. Turning back was not an option.
Her mother would be surprised when she heard, she thought and laughed.
‘What?’
‘Nothing. I was just thinking. I’ll tell my mother I’m helping you with your Huckleberry Finn paper.’
His smile broadened and then he reached down for her hand and brought it to his lips as if she was a fairytale princess who had granted him a great favor.
Oh, please, she prayed to whatever guardian angel had taken on what had seemed to be a lost cause, make this really happen.
She helped him secure the boat, with him teaching her about ropes and knots and everything else that had to do with it. Every once in a while, she had the sense that he was talking to her as if he expected their little romance would go on and on. Was this the danger zone for a young woman – that place where she begins to have high, maybe unrealistic hopes, and then suddenly finds herself falling like someone in an unopened parachute? Am I hearing what I want to hear and seeing what I want to see and not what is true? she wondered.
When she really thought about it, she lacked the experience a young woman her age should have by now. She was leapfrogging from adolescence to maturity without making the required stops along the way. She had not had a single serious romance, not even serious dates.
I was raped once, she thought, but I am still a virgin.
And I am under the spell of a young man who might be able to instruct Casanova on how to win over a woman’s trust and love. Am I going too far too fast?
She really didn’t have time to ruminate about it. His excitement was infectious. As they drove back from the lake, he rattled off one story after another, telling her about his Uncle Frank, his father’s younger brother, who had been the one to get him into boating.
‘Frank and his family live in Philadelphia. That’s where my father’s family closest relatives are. My uncle used to take us all on his boat on Lake Winnipesaukee in the Poconos. When I was younger – eight or nine – I would spend part of the summer with him, my aunt and my two cousins. You’d love my uncle and my aunt. She’s a little Bohemian and very sweet. Of course, my mother isn’t crazy about her.’
‘Why not?’
‘They don’t have much in common. My aunt Liz doesn’t dress up, lets gray roots take hold in her dark brown hair and knows less about women’s fashion than I do. She’d rather spend her day in her garden than at a garden party. What about your relatives?’ he asked.
She told him about her father’s younger sister and her mother’s older brother, neither of whom lived on the East Coast now. She sensed that talking about their families candidly like this was adding another dab of glue to their budding relationship. He can’t be just a playboy, she thought – or, rather, she hoped. Unless, of course, this is all another ploy. She felt like someone wearing a blindfold and told to walk through a minefield.
But the lightness of the conversation and his excitement over things he was planning for them to do made her feel like a teenager again. The owners of the Chinese restaurant he went to for the takeout knew him well. Who didn’t? He introduced her to the owner’s mother, who he said was ninety-seven years old. She looked sixty. Of course, he ordered too much food. They walked out with two large bags filled with four different entrees, dumplings, egg rolls, a few pounds of rice, sauces and, of course, fortune cookies.
It occurred to her that she should call her parents and let them know she wasn’t coming home for dinner, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to feel as if she was under any scrutiny or concern at her age. They’ll figure it out, she thought.
‘Ta daaaaa,’ he sang when he opened his apartment door and stepped back. ‘No checking for dust on the top of the refrigerator or anything,’ he warned. ‘My mother disapproves of everything in this apartment,’ he added, almost proudly.
She laughed and looked around. It was simple, the walls bare, but not as messy as she had anticipated.
He started to organize the dishes and she went to work scooping out the food from the containers and heating what needed to be warmed. She didn’t realize how quickly and easily she had taken control of his kitchen until she paused and saw him standing in the doorway, watching her, a wide grin on his face.
‘What?’ she said.
‘I was afraid you might be spoiled and sit and wait for me to do it all.’
‘I am spoiled,’ she said. ‘That’s a warning.’
He laughed and stepped up to work beside her.
‘Spoiled is my middle name. I guess we’re a team in more ways than one,’ he said. He kissed her on the cheek and began to bring the food to his dining table.
The two of them ate hungrily and talked as if they had both just been released from solitary confinement. They prodded gently at first at how each had spent the last four years. He confessed that when he had seen her that one time at the Down Under, he was an idiot.
‘I guess you thought I was totally disinterested in you. I didn’t try to start a conversation or anything.’
‘I wasn’t swept away,’ she said.
He laughed, nodded and looked down. ‘I know I have a reputation for being something of a playboy back then, and I’ll confess that there have been girls I considered refundable.’
‘Refundable?’
‘Yes, return if dissatisfied.
I knew I was investing only a night or two and returning them to the pool of available-for-fling young women.’
‘Oh.’
‘I knew immediately you weren’t one of them. You were in a much higher class, and I just …’
‘Wasn’t ready for someone non-refundable?’
‘Exactly,’ he said, grateful for her finding the words.
‘You made up for it,’ she said. His smile was different. It was deeper, like the smile of someone who was waiting on pins and needles for approval.
She rose and started to clear the table. He sat there watching her and then, when she was in the kitchen, washing the dishes, he came up behind her, put his arms around her waist and kissed her on the neck. She paused, her heart fluttering, and turned into him. They kissed passionately, reaching deeply into each other to stir their blood so that every part of her warmed and welcomed his hands. Neither spoke except through their eyes. Then he gracefully knelt, put his arm under her legs and scooped her up as if she weighed nothing. She rested her head against his chest as he carried her from the kitchen to his bedroom.
Can I do this? she wondered.
Surely he knew the turmoil raging inside her, she thought, because he moved so slowly and so gently, like someone testing every touch, every kiss, to see if he had gone too far, moved too fast. She watched him undress her and then himself, feeling at times more like an observer, almost scientific, researching to see how she would do.
But his passion was real and demanding. She could feel herself easing into her own, pushing aside all fears and inhibitions, stamping on the ugly memories. This was as different as could be. The only thing forcing her was her own desire.
When he brought himself to her, she tightened for a moment and he waited. Then she closed her eyes again and relaxed, gently opening her legs wider, inviting him, welcoming his lips on her hard nipples, clinging to his waist as he pushed gently into her and began a slow, rhythmic, pulsating stroke, pressing into her own rush of passion that was more like a hunger now, a need to restore the woman in her. Yes, she thought, I can do this. I can be normal, be loving, satisfy myself and a man. Her joy spilled out in her tears, tears he kissed. He was saying so many things, declaring how strongly he felt about her, how much she fulfilled him and, strangely, how sorry he was he had waited so long to ask her out.
The Incident Page 15