He reached over the side of the bed and got a condom. He tore it open with his teeth, the ghost of a swashbuckler, and then held out the package for me to take it out. We both watched as I slipped it on and smoothed it. He grunted with pleasure. I looked at him while I licked my hand and then continued stroking and smoothing, playing my fingers over the ridges and cords. Next time I’d do it with my mouth. He pushed the pillows up against the wall and sat up, he lifted me up and I lowered down on him. I shifted forward going deeper and deeper. He took my breast in his mouth as I rocked back and forth.
I’d never felt anything like it before. I was tethered to my sweet spot. I put my hands on his shoulders and my back arched as I erupted into wave after wave squeezing him in a way beyond my control. I was making sounds like a wild animal. I rode the sensations from guttural to keening to guttural. He was matching my sounds with groans. He got a far away look as he grabbed my hips and pulled me down hard. His muscles turned to focused tension as he looked into my eyes and I could feel him bucking deep inside me. He grunted, “Oh Jesus.” My body answered with more spasms. The rocking slowed and I collapsed onto his shoulder; our hearts were pounding. He held my head and stroked my hair. One more wave shuddered through before my body started to settle down. He lifted my face with both hands to look into my eyes and saw tears. He smiled and brushed them away with his thumbs.
“That was a little intense,” I said.
“More than that,” he said.
I put my head back down on his shoulder as he ran his hands over my hips. I was pretty sure I was going to have a sore throat. I lifted my head and smiled at him.
“I want to do that again,” I said.
“Okay,” he smiled. “But you’re going to have to get your nice ass off me for a minute.”
I gave him one last rock of the hips to show him who was boss; he smiled and winced. He held the ring of the condom to keep it from slipping off and I lifted myself off of him. I sat next to him and pulled the covers up to my breasts. He took my hand and compared the length of our fingers; I could feel every inch of skin on his hands.
“I hope your neighbors don’t complain about noise,” he said.
“Was I too noisy? I’ve never done that before.”
“I shouldn’t have said noise. That was a wild display.”
“Was it distracting?”
“Hardly.” There was still some residual grunt in his voice.
“Maybe they thought it was coyotes.”
He turned to me and said in low voice, “No creature on the planet would mistake that for coyotes.”
“Do you think my mother and Arthur are doing the same thing tonight?”
“I think Mom packs a coochie and knows how to use it. But I don’t know if Arthur’s heart would hold up to what just happened here.”
I realized I didn’t want to inject images of my mother and Arthur into this night. But really.
“Coochie? Do guys call it a coochie?”
“Sure, you hear it on the CB all the time.”
“Seriously?”
“Sometimes.”
He was smiling. He was having fun. And I realized I like the word.
“I wouldn’t refer to my mother’s coochie around my brother.”
“I won’t.” His eyes got soft and he slid his hand under the blanket and down my belly. Coochie called out and he went right for her.
It was slower the second time. My mouth had a long time to explore. The second time, I made him wait.
We fell asleep for an hour after that. I woke up to him pressing against me from behind. I offered him a lazy welcome. He slipped in, then reached over me and covered me with the palm of his hand again. We fell asleep that way.
I woke up at 6:00, alone. He came out of the bathroom buttoning his shirt. I sat up and watched him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Morning,” I said. “Are you leaving?”
“I’m going to let Rex out. Get a clean shirt.”
“Would you like coffee? I have granola and yogurt.”
“Sounds good.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed my lips with his thumb. Then he kissed one nipple. I reached down, unzipped his jeans and stuck my hand inside. There was no talking. We were lying facing each other an hour later.
“My fire’s not out,” I said.
“I can tell. I’ll be back.”
He went out the door and I buried my head in the pillows and breathed in his scent. I pulled myself away, started coffee and turned on my phone. There were calls from Steve, Mom, and Karin. I called Karin and left a message that I wouldn’t be in. Steve had left a message that he was hung up and would call later.
I fixed breakfast while he took a shower. He came out of the bathroom barefoot, but dressed for work. We had breakfast and took the bowls to the sink. He opened my robe and pulled me close while he slid his hands down over my ass. His belt buckle was cold on my skin.
“I have to go. I’ll call you.”
He tied my robe, then put on his shoes and walked out the door. He said, “Let’s go,” to Rex in a low voice.
I stayed at the sink until I heard the gate latch. I didn’t know what to do with myself for the rest of the day. I called Karin.
“How you doing?” she asked.
“I don’t know. The whole I’ll call you thing. I feel like I’ve regressed about ten years.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not yet. I can’t believe how that felt. It’s just so reckless.”
“You want to come down for dinner tonight?”
“No thanks. I’m going to wash the sheets and do some India research.”
“You taking India?”
“Looks that way.”
“You’re not going to confess are you?”
“No, but I know.”
I started a load of laundry while I swam laps. Then I took a shower and put on fresh clothes and made up the bed with the clean sheets. I now knew about Stroud sex. That genie would never go back in the bottle.
Steve called; he thought he might be even longer back there. He was headed out to dinner with Eric and Anna. It was probably my guilty imagination, but he sounded a little distant. I wondered if there was any way he could know what had happened.
I lit a fire and started trolling for information about India. Stroud called. I considered not answering.
“Hey,” he said. “You want to swim?”
“I already did.”
My stomach was clutching in the quiet between us, wild animals everywhere stood stock still as they listened in.
“That it?” he asked.
“No.”
“Which no?” he asked.
“That’s not it.”
All the animals breathed a sigh of relief and went back to their wild ways.
“Okay,” he hung up.
I slid the Nancarrow CD in. He walked in an hour later with a bag in each hand and a smaller one under his arm. He dropped the bags in the kitchen and threw the other on the table by the flowers.
“With the truck, I could only find a Mexican place.” He took out containers and opened drawers until he found spoons to dish up. I peered in the bag on the table; it was a box of condoms. He looked up from his work in the kitchen, the corners of his mouth turned up again.
“We ran out,” he said.
“Jesus.”
“You hungry? There’s Mexican beer here. Not your Bohemia, it’s what they had.”
“I’m starving.” I moved the flowers to the side. I imagined them looking on in dismay and saying, “Hey! Hey! Hey!” as they were shoved off-stage. He brought out bowls of food, while I got plates and forks and opened a couple of beers.
“That was a good band,” he said.
“Yeah, the CD is still good. That doesn’t happen often. How was Bakersfield?”
“It’s a garden capital. What did you do today?”
“I stayed home.”
“You okay?” he asked.
&nb
sp; “I’m fine. We haven’t talked.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know. Things.”
“Things?” he asked.
“Who is your friend?”
He looked at me over his beer. “Old friend. Known her all my life. Got to know her again after the divorce.”
“You sleep with her?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Well, you know I sleep with my boyfriend.”
“I have. Does it matter?”
“I don’t know. Does it matter that I sleep with my boyfriend?”
“Neither of us would be here if it was like this with them.”
“My mother says men have affairs for variety.”
“Your mother calls you a cat.”
I laughed; I’d forgotten I’d told him that.
“Come on,” he said picking up our empty plates. “Let’s not waste any more time on this. I need a shower, want to join me?”
We cleared the dishes and I turned off the lights over the flowers. It was a relief to put them to sleep. He put some loose condoms on the nightstand. We got in the shower and experimented with all the ways you can turn on a person with soap and water. We barely made it back to bed. At some point we tried the chair by the fireplace and agreed it was more comfortable than a Volvo, though definitely not as stable. We were back in bed. He was holding my back close up against his stomach, idly stroking my belly. His face was in the back of my neck.
“Where do you live?” I asked.
“I’ve got a place down there. Small house.”
“May I see it some time?”
“You sure may.”
He slid his hand down my belly and we started in again. If anyone had told me that two people could have that much sex in that short a period of time, I would have said they were nuts. But except for catnaps and glasses of water, we didn’t stop until we finally fell asleep at three a.m.; even then we woke up for a little something before work. He got dressed.
“You taking off?” I asked.
“I’m going to get a clean shirt. You making coffee?”
I took a shower while coffee started. He still wasn’t back by the time I got dressed. I’d picked up glasses, washed dishes, and made the bed before I saw Rex coming down the stairs.
They came in. Stroud didn’t have a clean shirt. The skin around his mouth and eyes was stretched tight.
“Are you all right? You look like someone hit your truck.”
“Truck’s fine.” He was standing with his back to me looking out at the pool.
“What’s going on?”
He didn’t say anything. I got a cup of coffee for each of us. I added cream to mine to soften the blow to my churning stomach. He took his cup, “Thanks.” He kept looking out at the pool.
“Did I do something?”
“No, Hannah, this has nothing to do with you. I can’t imagine why you’d even ask that.”
Assuming it was me was an old habit I’d fallen back on, in this room, with all the oxygen sucked out of it. I waited. Rex wandered over and rested his chin on my knee, his head a worry stone. Stroud finally turned around and sat down in the chair we’d been in last night.
“What is it?” I asked.
He was leaning forward with his head down over the cup of coffee between his knees. He looked up at me.
“It happened months ago,” he began.
“Okay.”
“You know my friend.”
“Your old friend.”
He smiled a sad ironic smile and nodded his head a little. “Her name is Leeann.”
“Leeann,” I said trying out her name. “Has she been hurt?”
“She’s pregnant.”
“Is it yours?”
“She says so. I have no reason to doubt her.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. We’ll talk it over when I get home.”
“No abortion?”
“It’s too late, if it’s when I think it was. She’s been keeping it to herself. She wants to have it.”
“Didn’t you use anything?”
He looked at me and said in a quiet voice, “Hannah.”
“What? You’ve been so careful with me.”
“I’ve been careful with both of us.”
“You’re right. I’m a slut and she’s the hometown girl. This has nothing to do with me.”
“I don’t know why you talk like that. We just met. I don’t know what your boyfriend is doing. You don’t know where I’ve been either.”
“Are you going to marry her?”
“I don’t want to have this conversation between us.”
“The only thing we have between us is this conversation.”
“I can’t have her raising my child on her own. She can’t do it alone, she’s not like you.”
“She made the decision on her own.”
“I was part of the decision when I slept with her.”
“How noble. Do you love her?”
He looked out the window for a full minute. “It doesn’t matter.”
“And she’s willing to have a baby with a man who doesn’t love her? That’s crazy.”
“Half the world lives like that.”
“And you’re willing to be in that half?”
“I just heard. I don’t know what I’m willing to do.”
“What do you mean she’s not like me?”
“You could have a child on your own. I wouldn’t worry about you.”
“You have no idea how wrong you are.”
We sat in silence. On top of everything else, I was shocked that anyone would think I could raise a child on my own. I barely kept my own life together. That I was sitting there seemed evidence enough.
“Okay, well. I need to get going,” I said.
I took my mug to the kitchen. I started crying, the blurred vision a comfort. He put his hands on my shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t apologize. It’s just as well.”
I didn’t turn around. He took his hands away and left behind cold handprints. I could still smell us and feel our lovemaking. The universe was mocking.
“I’ll call you,” he said.
“No. Please don’t say that.”
Rex’s toenails clicked on the stone floor, the door opened and closed. Just like that. Given and taken. In an instant, a faulty altitude reading, a mountain in the darkness. I stood frozen at the sink until I heard the gate latch.
FIVE
“I should have known from the second I met him,” I said. “A truck driver, what was I thinking?”
Karin had come right away.
“Does it matter what he does?” she asked.
“It feels like it now.”
“It sounds like he’s a good guy, he’s stepping up,” she said.
“I know, I know. I get it. It’s all very noble.”
“What’s the alternative? We can’t have it both ways.”
“I can’t have it any way.”
“That sounds a little crazy. You have Steve.”
“Steve and I don’t have that. He said he doesn’t have it with her either.”
“Would you really want children with him?”
“It’s the first time it felt like the right idea. I’ve never felt that before. It was like, I don’t know, that’s all some part of me wanted.”
“I know, but would you be okay taking a truck driver to parties?”
“He taught biology, he’s not just a truck driver.”
“He is now, that’s what people would see. Your mother sure wouldn’t like it.”
“It’s not my mother’s life, “ I said.
“I’m just being realistic. You’re the one who brought up his job.”
“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten pregnant with Oscar?”
“I don’t know what would have happened to us. But my parents would like their own lives be
tter.”
“They love your kids.”
“They’d love them more if their father was a white guy from the country club.”
We were quiet again.
“He said he wouldn’t worry if it was me who was pregnant,” I said.
“Because? It would still be just as much his. It’s not just about the kids. It’s a lot of work.”
“I don’t know. He says she’s still a girl.”
“There’s no way to even begin to make sense of that. Sometimes I think it’s the girls who have it easy; that’s all they want.”
“I can’t imagine having a child on my own. I can barely imagine it with someone. Steve’s been talking about having children.”
“Steve? He’s never struck me as the father-type.”
“What does Oscar think of all this?”
“He wants you to have it, that energy. But he told me that if I ever considered taking the kids, he’d lock me in a closet until they’re grown. He understands about raising your own kids. It would make him nuts to think another man was raising his kids, even a little bit.”
“He’s a good guy. Let’s go, it helps to work. I don’t want to sit at home.”
We locked up and headed downtown. My phone rang, A. Watts. I didn’t want a message from him. I hit answer and end with two quick jabs. I did not want to talk. My ex-husband used to talk until I wanted to cry with confusion and frustration. I did not want tenderness, or pointless silences. We didn’t need talk then, and we don’t need it now. I glanced at the screen and realized I hadn’t heard from Steve after his dinner with Eric and Anna.
Shooting was over; everyone was laid, dead or got a cookie. We started the tedious process of packing up and labeling everything to be sent to prop storage on the lot. Over the next week we would clean up our files of photos and notes to be buried somewhere with all the other dead television shows. If someone two thousand years down the road could figure out how to read our flash drives, they could recreate Layla’s world, not to be confused with the real world, or maybe it is. I was beginning to feel like Vampire Chick. I’d been snotty with creepy David, but I didn’t want to spend my life rubbing them out alone either. I needed an agent to jump down the throat of who ever was writing my sex life.
Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 01 - Wild Nights Page 8