by J. J. Murray
“Thank you.” Tony turned and stood in front of the sink.
I have just seen Tony’s buttocks because my towels are cheap and tiny. I, um, I like his . . . proportions very much. So those were dancing in front of me under his pants last night. Very nice. “My toothbrush is in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror.”
Tony opened the medicine cabinet, found the only toothbrush, filled the bristles with Crest toothpaste, and began brushing.
Look at his legs, all sinewy and long and hairy and only two mere feet from my itching hands—
I have to get a grip on myself.
“I don’t have much to offer you for breakfast.”
Tony continued to brush.
“We could eat some more beef stew.”
Tony continued to brush.
“Or we could go out for breakfast.”
Tony continued to brush.
“It’s up to you.”
Four minutes later, Tony spat into the sink. “I like beef stew.”
“Beef stew it is,” Trina said. No wonder his teeth are so white. He is a dentist’s dream patient.
Tony dropped the towel at his feet and stepped over to his clothes, piled neatly on the floor near the bathtub.
I didn’t need to see all that manliness. I have never seen anything so magnificent. If it weren’t for this doorframe, I’d be passed out on the floor.
Tony put on his underwear.
His poor underwear! My God, he’s beautiful. Robert never dressed or undressed in front of me in ten years of marriage, and I see all of Tony in less than a day.
Tony put on his left sock and then his right.
Tony had no hesitation, no shyness, and no worry. Doesn’t he know I’m watching his every move? Doesn’t he know I haven’t had a man in my life—
I have never had a real man in my life.
That’s a real man.
Tony put on a T-shirt, his pants, and his button-down shirt, buttoning it up from the bottom.
I hope this is one of his routines. I am going to like this routine, but I need to be completely awake for the next performance. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes,” Tony said. He tightened his belt. “You have to go to work.”
“I took the rest of the week off,” Trina said. Because I’m sick. Can’t you tell? I almost passed out from what I just witnessed. I’m sure I have a fever. Even my toes are sweating.
“We will go to Cielo Azul tonight,” Tony said.
Is he perseverating? “But they wouldn’t let us eat there last night,” Trina said.
“It is the best restaurant in San Francisco,” Tony said.
He’s perseverating. I need to get him into a different room. “Come into the kitchen with me.”
Tony followed Trina into the kitchen.
“We can probably eat anywhere now, and without a reservation, too,” Trina said. “Because you’ve come out, so to speak, all we have to do is show up and we can probably get a table wherever you want to eat.”
Tony blinked.
He doesn’t understand the doors that fame can open—which is cool. Tony will never be an asshole celebrity who thinks he or she is entitled to everything and anything. “We can go to Cielo Azul, or we can go to any restaurant in San Francisco on just your name alone.”
“I want to take you to Cielo Azul.”
That didn’t work. Maybe the kitchen isn’t a large enough change of scenery. Trina smiled. “We’ll go to Cielo Azul then.”
“Yes.”
Trina fixed Tony a bowl of stew and put it into the microwave. She pressed a few buttons, and it whirred and sputtered to life. “I’m going to take a shower now. When you hear the beep, your breakfast is ready. The spoons are in the drawer underneath the microwave.”
“Okay.” Tony went to the couch, sat, and turned on the television. “I will watch the weather.”
Trina collected a clean bra, T-shirt, and a pair of white underwear with brown polka dots and took them into the bathroom. After spraying away some of Tony’s hairs, she went to the doorway. “What will the high temperature be today, Tony?”
“Fifty-five,” Tony said.
Not exactly shorts weather, but I want to look better than “average” today. The media will likely notice Tony again wherever we go and I’d love to silence some of the haters with my slender, smooth legs. “Thank you.” She shut the door. Should I lock it? I don’t want him to think I don’t trust him.
She left it unlocked, took off her clothes, got into the shower, closed the curtain around her, and lathered up her legs. She had just finished shaving her legs when the door opened. She watched Tony step up to the shower, part the curtain, and thrust her cell phone in front of her face.
“A man named Robert is on your phone,” Tony said.
Trina aimed the spray away from her and took her phone. “Thanks.”
Tony turned and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Tony didn’t even look at me! His eyes looked everywhere but me. I know he tries to be polite, but that was no time to be polite! That was the time to stare!
She pressed the speaker button and set the phone on the edge of the tub. “What do you want, Robert?” She soaped up a washcloth and bathed quickly.
“And you brought him home,” Robert said. “You brought Art E. home.”
“So?”
“You let that mindless robot stay overnight with you,” Robert said.
“He is not mindless and he’s not a robot,” Trina said. “He is a man, and he is a genius.” She rinsed quickly and turned off the water.
“Are you in the shower?” Robert asked.
“Yes,” Trina said.
“And he just brought the phone to you while you were in the shower?” Robert asked.
“Yes,” Trina said. “And now I’m getting out.” She took another purple towel from a stack and began drying off.
“So he has seen you naked?” Robert asked.
Duh. “What do you want, Robert?”
“I can’t believe this,” Robert said. “You have lost your mind.”
Trina wrapped the towel under her arms and lotioned her legs and thighs. “Actually, I’ve found my mind. It took me two long years, but I’m finally sane again.”
“It isn’t sane to shack up with a mentally defective white man,” Robert said.
“Tony is a genius,” Trina said, lotioning her buttocks, stomach, and breasts, “and he’s more of a man in a day than you were in ten years.”
“Oh, I seriously doubt that,” Robert said.
Trina opened and peeked through the bathroom door. Tony already finished his stew. I love cooking for that man. But his eyes are glued to that television. Maybe if I stomp my feet as I go from the bathroom to my bedroom, he’ll turn his head to see me. She picked up the phone and turned off the speaker. “What do you care anyway, Robert?” She gathered her clean clothes, took a deep breath, and dropped her towel. She walked on her heels into the hallway and stopped. Look this way, man! Slender Trina in all her naked glory! Check out this profile! Look at my perfectly proportional breasts and buttocks!
Tony didn’t turn his head.
Trina sighed and put on her panties and bra. Over here, Tony! I’m dressing leisurely and seductively for you.
Tony’s head stayed focused on the television.
“I read up on Asperger’s syndrome, Katrina,” Robert said.
Trina sighed and dragged her feet into her room, where she put on a pair of baggy tan shorts. “So reading a page or two at WebMD-dot-com makes you an expert.”
“He will never have any real feelings for you, Katrina,” Robert said. “He can never show you any empathy.”
“I’ve already seen different.” She put on some deodorant then picked out an orange and black flannel shirt. “He saw me rubbing my feet at the park and he bought me shoes. That’s empathy. He listens—”
“That isn’t true empathy,” Robert interrupted.
“Let me finish,” Trina sai
d, buttoning up her shirt. “Unlike you, Tony listens to me and values what I have to say. That’s empathy.”
“That is not the definition of empathy, Katrina,” Robert said.
“Whatever, Robert.” She slid on some tan wool socks. “Tony has plenty of feelings for me, especially last night.”
“He is simple and genetically defective, Katrina,” Robert said.
“He’s simply wonderful and isn’t simply defective like you are.” She turned off her phone. That felt good. She put on her hiking boots, fluffed her hair once, and left the bedroom. “You okay, Tony?”
“Yes,” Tony said.
His eyes are still fused to that television. “That was my ex-husband.”
“What a turd,” Tony said.
A normal man would ask why my ex called, but not Tony. “Live and let live” must be his motto. I like that kind of freedom. “Are you ready to see the sights?”
Tony turned off the television and stood. “You are a sight.”
“Thank you.”
“I like your stomach,” Tony said. “It is flat and brown. You have a small belly button. It is pretty.”
He did see me. I wonder what else he saw while he was trying to be polite. “You saw me?”
“I did not stare,” Tony said. “Staring is rude.”
“It’s okay to stare at someone you like,” Trina said. “Did you like what you saw?”
“Yes,” Tony said.
“What did you like?” Trina asked.
“I like your breasts. They are firm. Your nipples are brown. They are the size of dimes. Your nipples were sticking out. Your buttocks are firm. They have some freckles on them. Your legs are smooth and shiny. Your other thing is dark brown.”
My other thing? “What other thing?”
“I am not allowed to say that word anymore,” Tony said.
“It’s okay,” Trina said. “I’m a nurse. I know all the parts of the body.”
“Angelo would be mad,” Tony said.
“I won’t be,” Trina said. “What’s my other thing?”
“Your vagina,” Tony said. “It is pretty. It is darker brown. It looks smooth and silky.”
This man has very fast eyes. When he looks as if he’s not looking at me, he really is. And all of this is exciting me. “Thank you. No one has ever complimented me like that before.” Should I return the favor and say he has a nice penis? I want to, but . . . no.
“I like your shirt,” Tony said. He reached out to put his right hand on her shoulder. “It is soft.”
“Because it’s threadbare and old,” Trina said.
“I like the colors. The colors have music.” Tony put his left hand on her other shoulder and squeezed gently with both hands. “You are symmetrical and strong. I want to touch your hair.”
Please. “Go ahead.”
Tony smoothly ran his fingers through her hair. “Soft. Strong. Silky.”
I am getting excited. His fingers feel like feathers.
“It is not an Afro,” Tony said.
“I relax my hair.”
“It is relaxed,” Tony said.
I’m not! If he does this any longer, my hands will be feeling on his chest. “What do you want to do today?”
Tony dropped his arms to his sides. “I want to feel your face.”
“I meant . . .” A man wants to put his big old strong hands on my face. Who am I to deny him? “Oh, go for it.”
Tony’s hands caressed her face tenderly. “Soft. Hot. Getting hotter.”
Because I’m getting even more excited!
Tony rubbed her lips with his fingers, tracing her smile. He ran his thumbs up and down her neck.
This is the best foreplay I have ever had, and I am fully clothed!
Tony pressed his fingers into her neck. “I feel your pulse. It is very fast.”
Because a man is touching me, a man is appreciating me, and a man is igniting my body. This man cares about me. . . .
And now I’m crying.
“You are crying,” Tony said. He dropped his hands to his sides.
How can I make him understand what makes absolutely no sense? “You make me feel so good, Tony. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. I’m happy. I’m crying because I’m happy.”
Tony nodded. “When Angela touched my hand, I cried. I was happy, too.”
She put her hands on his face. “I’ve been touching on you since I met you, and you haven’t cried at all.”
“Your touch does not make me cry.” He reached up and touched her nose, ears, and chin with his fingertips. “I like touching you.”
She slid her hands down his face to his chest. “I like you touching me, Tony.”
“You are touchable.” He moved his hands to her shoulders and felt his way down her biceps and forearms. He squeezed her palms and each finger individually.
I’m about to have an orgasm fully clothed, and he hasn’t even touched anything erogenous! Trina closed her eyes and moaned softly.
“You closed your eyes,” Tony said.
“Because your touch feels good,” Trina whispered.
“You feel good.”
Does he know what he’s doing to me? Should I care? “When you touch me, I feel . . . happy inside.” From my lips to my “other thing.”
She felt his hands moving from her fingers to her hips, to the tops of her buttocks, to her lower back, to her shoulder blades and shoulders. “You are hot.”
I am actually on fire. “You’re making me hot.”
“You should wear a T-shirt,” Tony said.
“It’s only going to be fifty-five today,” Trina said.
“It is warm enough.”
Trina felt Tony’s hands massaging her buttocks. I can’t believe I’m about to come. Geez!
“Round,” Tony said. “So round. And symmetrical. They are the same.”
I am so close to orgasm! I don’t want to scare him when I scream! She opened her eyes. “Tony, that feels really good. Thank you for doing that.”
“Does it feel better when you close your eyes?” Tony asked.
“Yes,” Trina said, and she closed her eyes.
She felt Tony’s hands on her chest. “So round. And symmetrical. They are the same, too.”
I may have to change my underwear!
She then felt his hot hands moving down her stomach to her hips before running down the front and climbing up the back of her legs.
I shouldn’t have put on these boots. My feet could use a massage, too.
“I am touching an angel,” Tony said. “Thank you.”
Trina opened her eyes and hugged him tightly, resting her head on his chest. “For what?”
“For letting me see you,” Tony said.
She looked up into his eyes. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
“I did,” Tony said. “I want to touch you again. You make my fingers warm.”
His fingers make my entire body vibrate! “I want you to touch me again.” Any time, any place, twenty-four seven. I will, of course, be wearing fewer clothes, and so will you.
Tony placed his hands on her hips. “I like touching you, Trina.”
I want to kiss him so badly, but his face is still made of stone. “Maybe we should go now.” Before I drag you to my bed, rip off your clothes, and take complete and total advantage of you.
“I will go with you anywhere, Trina,” Tony said.
My bedroom is free, the sheets are extremely soft, and I am already wet.... No. Not yet. “Would you like to ride the cable cars?”
“I have seen them,” Tony said. “I know where they go. I have the map in my head.”
She stepped back and held his hands. “Then let’s go.”
There was a loud knock at the door.
“Trina, it’s me, Angelo. Open up.”
Oh . . . shit.
“Angelo sounds angry,” Tony said.
Tony’s brother is here to collect him. How did he find us?
“He has come to take me back t
o Brooklyn,” Tony said.
He can’t go now! Not now!
“Don’t let him take me back to Brooklyn, Trina,” Tony said.
I don’t know what to do!
“Please, Trina.”
27
Trina opened the door, and Angelo stormed inside.
“Hi,” she said to Angelo’s back. That is one pissed-off yet handsome Italian man. She smiled at a petite Japanese woman with long, dark hair and luminous eyes. “You must be Aika.”
“Hi, Trina,” Aika said, stepping inside.
Trina closed the door. Wow, it’s crowded. “Why don’t we, um, hmm.” She pointed to the couch. “I suppose you and I can sit on the couch, Aika.”
Aika hugged Tony before sitting on the couch.
Trina sat next to her.
Angelo faced Tony. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Tony said. “I am fine, Angelo. Trina and I are riding the cable cars today.”
Angelo wheeled and stared at Trina. “You said you’d take him back to the hotel. That’s where we’ve been not finding him for the last two hours.”
Attitude, in my house? This has been an attitude-free zone since Robert left. “I told Angela I’d try. It was Tony’s decision to stay here. How did you find us anyway?”
“You haven’t looked outside,” Angelo said.
“No,” Trina said. “Obviously.”
Angelo went to the window and opened the curtains. “Your apartment building is live on CNN. They have ‘Art E. Watch’ or some such nonsense on the screen.”
“Must be a slow news day,” Trina said.
Aika laughed. “That’s what I said.”
Angelo closed the curtains. “Do you know what you’ve done, Trina? You’ve exposed my brother to that mess out there. Do you know the damage all this could cause him?”
“Angelo, you told Tony to tell Trina who he is,” Aika said.
“Yeah, but she didn’t have to go blabbing it to the world the first time a camera was on her,” Angelo said. “Twenty-four years I have protected him, and with one answer to some no-name reporter, you destroyed all that.”
“Oh yes,” Aika said. “Tony certainly looks destroyed. Nice clothes, Tony.”
“Thank you, Aika,” Tony said.
“Tony always looks uninvolved that way,” Angelo said.
“I don’t know,” Aika said. “I think something’s changed.”