Would I Lie to You?

by Trisha R. Thomas

  SAFETY FIRST

  THE huge picture window that overlooked the water was a square of blackness, studded with sparkling diamonds. The stars danced and dipped in the midnight sky. She’d known better than to follow him home. She knew they would end up here, where she lay beside him, her head resting on his chest while she studied the scar at the center of his throat. She traced his brow with her finger, then let it follow around. He awakened, taking hold of her hand.

  “How did you get this scar?”

  “I thought I was dreaming, and that you weren’t really here.” Jake touched her hand that was trailing around his neck. “I had a close call when I was younger.”

  She grimaced, picturing him being threatened with a knife by a gang of thugs.

  “I came in contact with grass. The kind that grows on the front lawn.”

  “You fell in grass?” Venus asked, still stretched out across his bare chest.

  “My mother used to tell me each and every day, stay out of that grass, Jake. You know you’re allergic. Can you picture a childhood where you can’t even run through the sprinklers in the summertime, or play a game of touch football? Well that day, I watched all the guys load up on foot, heading for the park, like they usually did, leaving me all alone like the last survivor in the neighborhood. At that point, I was so pissed off, I didn’t care what my mother said, didn’t care what my punishment was going to be. All I wanted to do was play some ball. I told the guys to wait up, I jumped in and went full steam ahead. Everybody on the street knew my mother, heard her always yelling out the window, ‘Stay outta that grass, Jake!’ like she had radar. They even made me quarterback, ’Cause they knew it was something of a holiday, just having me play. It was a good game, too. I threw two touchdowns for my team. Hadn’t hit the ground once. Then on the last play, this bulldozer named Eddie Demoy came at me from the side and took me down, face first into the grass. I ate it big time. At first nothing happened. I stood up, shook it off, and thought my mother had been pulling my leg all this time … all this time, telling me to stay out of the grass, keeping me from playing Pop Warner football for three years in a row, probably just so I wouldn’t get hurt. Next thing I know, my whole body broke out in raw itch; it felt like somebody had stuck me in a fiberglass sheet and wrapped me up. I scratched like nobody’s business. By the time I got home I was a walking mummy, covered by my own skin, swollen, my eyes nearly closed, my throat constricted. I couldn’t breathe.

  “My mother opened the front door, saw me, and screamed. She was in a fit of tears, crying the whole time while she drove me to the hospital. She just kept mumbling, ‘I told you to stay outta that grass, I told you to stay outta that grass.’ When I woke up in the hospital, I had a tube sticking out of my throat.” He paused, touching the scar. “Tubes in my arms.”

  He stopped again and waited while Venus kissed him on the lips. “After that, I never questioned another thing she said.”

  The rhythm of his voice had stirred something deep inside of Venus. When she first lay down with him, it felt like a dying man’s last wish. She could at least fulfill this one part, so even if he was right about all the things he’d said earlier, about her staying with Airic, she would have this one moment. They would have a memory so precious and splendid. But now, she carried a ferocity to make love to him that had nothing to do with what tomorrow held. More to do with the ache and need growing between her legs. A pull working its way through her body, through her core. She wanted him inside of her, full and thick the way he’d been a few hours ago. Curing her, with long even strokes. She wanted her head to swim, lost in a hapless dizzy whirl when he teasingly stopped, slipping out to ask if she missed him.

  YES. Yes, she did. She missed him terribly. The void was real. The emptiness of having him near but not completely inside of her made her dizzy with anticipation. She straddled him as politely as possible, fearing she could hurt him as desperate as she felt, as hungry and needing as she felt. He lifted her up by her waist and gently positioned her to slide the length of his penis. The room felt like it was spinning. The bed was a magic carpet that was above ground, floating with no direction. She lost herself in his grasp, holding on for dear life. “Baby, sweet, sweet,” she whispered into the air. Into his chest, tasting the salt on his skin, perspiration from his earlier working.

  He cradled her, pressing her down until she was sure she couldn’t bear another inch pushed inside. Surely she could scream louder than the crashing waves outside. So be it, she thought while the air left her lungs. So be it. Her own voice was foreign to her. The thick lull that turned into a martyr’s groan with every push, every stroke. She wanted him to use her, break down every barrier, then rebuild her again from scratch. Then his moan blended perfectly with hers. A sigh so perfect, like a sad sweet song. She stopped and touched his face. The only movement between them was from their eyes, blinking, quiet.

  “I love you.” He said it slow and deliberate. “Do you understand?”

  Venus let her head move up and down. Yes. She understood perfectly. He held her face, kissing her, sucking her tongue. She understood that she never wanted to let him go. She didn’t want to wake up tomorrow or live another day. She wanted to stay in this time and this place without dealing with the consequences. The ones that Venus Johnston would have to answer to when the sun rose or the die was cast.

  How do you know you love me? You don’t even know me. What does that mean, anyway? You love me? What prize does that hold? She closed her eyes and waited for him to wash through her, clear the last puzzling thoughts, the last speculation from her mind. His body tensed, turning solid and hard against hers. He held her intensely while he throbbed one last time inside of her. I love you, too, she thought, lying on his chest, and thinking about all that tomorrow would bring, and all that she would lose.

  IT hadn’t dawned on her that they’d skipped the use of a condom for the second round, not until she crept her way to the bathroom in the dark and felt the uncomfortable trickle of fluid running down her upper thigh. She stood there, paralyzed by the sudden realization. A chill ran through her naked body. The choice of standing there and freezing or grabbing a towel. She pulled the soft thick towel off the bar and wrapped it around her shoulders, then went into the bathroom and closed the door.

  She sat in the dark as she thought about all the possible outcomes of acting irresponsibly. HIV, AIDS, STD—the initials were like hieroglyphics in her mind, crazy mixed-up imagery. She calmed herself down. If she feared any of those things, she wouldn’t have been here with Jake in the first place. Besides, it worked both ways. She and Airic stopped using condoms over a year ago. Neither of them had been tested, going in on blind trust She closed her eyes and let her head fall in her palms. At least she was on the pill.

  A hush clouded her brain. Pregnancy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a pill. The last few weeks had melded into one thick blur. Eating, sleeping, driving to see her mother, driving to work to see Jake, a big file of numberless pages, no order. Had it been a day, two, or three? She couldn’t remember.

  She finished in the bathroom and felt her way back to the bed, sliding under the covers next to Jake. Her heart was still racing with the discovery. She was too old for this, wasn’t she? Too old to be worrying about an unwanted pregnancy or the possibility of a disease.

  Jake rolled over, letting an arm find its way around her waist, pulling her in close to him. She tried to relax, commanding each breath to be slowed, each trickle of doubt to be erased. Worrying wouldn’t solve anything right now. She closed her eyes, then opened them just as quickly. Wendy. She’d forgotten about her friend. She didn’t have a key to the apartment Venus had taken the keys right along with the car.

  She touched Jake’s arm, then shook it “Jake.” He was slow responding but she had his attention. “I have to get back. I forgot about Wendy.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “I didn’t leave her a key to my place. Where’s she going to go?”


  “She’ll be fine, Venus. We left her in good hands.”

  “Legend,” Venus whispered to herself, letting her head fall back against the pillow, “no.” She removed his arm. “I have to go, Jake.”

  His arm tightened. “Look, it’s”—he leaned across her sheet-covered breasts and looked at the illuminated clock—“three o’clock. You’re not running out of here at three in the morning. Check your messages, see if she called. If there’s nothing, I’ll give Legend a call.”

  “And Beverly, will you call her, too?”

  “What?” He detected a swipe, a modest accusation.

  Venus sat up. “Beverly, she told me about you two. Slam bam, no thank you, ma’am.”

  “What are you talking about? Where’s this coming from?”

  “We didn’t use a rubber, Jake. Now I’ve got to worry about Beverly, and who knows how many countless others you’ve slept with.”

  He rolled out of the covers. He pulled on his boxers that lay at the foot of the bed. “Venus.” He yanked open the drawer in the nightstand. He dumped the entire contents on the bed next to her. It looked like Halloween candy. Condoms in brightly covered packaging in more variety than she knew existed. “I always use protection. Why I didn’t with you? I don’t know.” He weighed what he was about to say next, taking his time. “Some things are worth taking a chance for. I never doubted for a second that we weren’t going to be together. It wasn’t in the back of my mind that I was taking a risk. With you, I felt safe. I thought you felt that way, too.”

  She did. She had. Safe was truly what she’d felt in his arms. But here, now, they were in reality. Consequences and repercussions. “It goes both ways, Jake. I should have said something. It’s my responsibility as much as it is yours.” She scooted to the edge of the bed, pulling the sheet with her. “I have to go.”

  He moved to her side, kneeling down. “Tell me why. Is it about your friend, or do you just want to get out of here?”

  Venus looked out at the black sky. The stars that hadn’t yet given up, still dancing with the same twinkling energy. The moonlight allowed her to see half of Jake’s face, the side shadowed in darkness. “I’m scared.”

  “What are you scared of?”

  “It feels like I’m falling down this huge hole, and it just keeps getting deeper and longer where I can’t get out. I’m out of control. This is the perfect example, me here with you. I have sense, I keep telling myself, I’m thirty-six years old, I keep telling myself. I should know better than to fall for this …” She looked away.

  “Fall for this?” his voice changed, indignant. “You mean me, like I’m putting something over on you?” He stood up. “I told you I didn’t want to play anymore, Venus. If that’s what you want, you got it.” He stepped back, his chest heaving with every breath.

  She quickly turned her frustration to concern. She didn’t want him losing his ability to breathe, not because of her. She stood up to touch him. “Are you all right?”

  He backed up, avoiding her hand.

  Venus moved past him and went into the bathroom and closed the door. She listened intently, trying to hear a change in his breathing rhythm. A shift in the air. She heard him pick up the phone, the tone of dialing, then paused.

  “Hey, man, it’s me. I know, I know, I’m sorry to wake you, but Venus was worried about her friend. She asked me to call, see if you knew what was up.” A pause. “What … I heard that, you guys had a good time then, cool, cool. I’m glad she’s all right. Do me a favor, have her call Venus as soon as she wakes up, she’s worried. All right, check you later, man.” He hung up.

  Venus felt momentarily lighter. Wendy was safe, if being with Legend could be called safe. She leaned her head against the door. Her married friend Wendy. She hoped one of them at least used a condom. She slid down the length of the door and sat in the crumpled bed sheet wrapped around her body. Surely, they’d laugh about this one day.

  THE room was empty when she came out. Still only lit with the moonlight that bathed the right side of the room. The door of the bedroom was open, where Jake had fled the scene. She peered out and could see a corner of light from downstairs. Music played, jazz, the kind that gave her a headache with its jagged, uneven beats. Carrying herself along in her toga made of the top sheet, she followed the sound into the softly lit living room. Jake sat on the oversized couch, shirtless, wearing only draw-string pants. He held a brandy snifter in his hand, swirling it around in front of the candlelight glowing in front of him. Venus felt an intense urge to curl up next to him just to inhale his scent. Soft, light, open like his heart.

  He still had not looked up to acknowledge she was standing there, draped like the Statue of Liberty in her sheet. “Can I sit with you?”

  He took a sip of his drink. Venus wanted to kiss the moistness from his lip and taste the rich liquor for herself. “I freaked out. I’m sorry about that blowup.”

  Now she could see his youth. In the way he held his head, slightly tilted to the side, like a pouting child. Men were already far more immature than women; why she had to fall for another young one, like Clint, spoke volumes about her own personality. Maybe she was longing to take care of a child. Even one over six feet tall with abs of steel.

  She made her way to his side uninvited, slowly at first, then snuggling up. She leaned her head on his bare shoulder. “Hi.” She took the glass out of his hand and set it on the table. She waited patiently for him to accept her apology. She preoccupied herself by staring in her hands, the busy lines that creased her palms. So many lines going in every which direction. Once a friend in high school opened her palms in class and said, “Let me see your future.” Venus was excited. She’d seen the other girls with predictions of two children, maybe three, the long thin one the span of their palm crossing the two shorter ones, a long happy marriage. Not Venus, her palm read like a schizophrenic treasure map.

  “Well, what do you see?” Venus had asked, anticipating so she could pick out the names of her first- and secondborn. Her friend stared, and stared, twisting her hand to take sideway, upside-down, and back again views. “I don’t know,” she’d said, “just a lot of lines. I guess you’re going to have a busy life, a lot of different—”

  “Different what?” Venus had asked, panicking. “Different experiences,” her friend answered, trying not to show her disgust.

  “What’s on your mind?” She felt Jake’s hand near her neck, massaging gently. His touch filled her with relief even though temporary. The treasure map of her palms told the story, short erratic lines like tiny razor cuts. Each and every one of them leading to nowhere. Always close, but no cigar. She knew Airic didn’t want to marry her. She knew he didn’t want any more children as much as they’d talked and planned. And now, here she was with Jake, another short line in her hand. One more stop. She could hear her mother’s voice, all the work, all the prayers, asking for a happy life. The only thing you do with all that thinking is take the long way.

  “So I guess you’re next.”

  “What?”

  “You.” She leaned on him. She opened up her hand, pointing at her palm. “That’s you right there.” She picked out a faint line, short, light, secretly woven into the others. “One project, then on to the next I’m never going to be married, have children. Just a constant one-stop wonder.”

  He closed her fingers one at a time. He encircled her now balled fist in his warm hands. “I’m bigger than that, Venus. I couldn’t possibly fit. Ignore all your little superstitions and tarot cards when it comes to me, okay?”

  “You’re bigger than fate?”

  “I’m bigger than your assumptions.”

  “No one is bigger than fate.”

  Jake opened his own palms, showing her. “See anything familiar?” So many busy lines, congruent, adjacent, parallel, almost identical to hers. She traced them with her finger, until he couldn’t take the tickling sensation any longer. “Guess we’re two lost souls that found each other. So what do you make of that?”<
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  “Maybe we’re related, same gene pool. What’d you say your daddy’s name was again?”

  A strong deep laugh burst out of him. He stroked the thin hair on his manicured goatee. “Believe it or not, I know people who have lived that nightmare. That’s not one to be messed with.” He pulled her onto his lap. “All I’m saying is, if you’re going to use that excuse, use it for everything, don’t pick and choose. Some things are meant to be … or all things are meant to be. You’d have to include me in that equation either way.” He opened her hands placing his flat on hers. She attempted to slap them before he snatched his hands out of the way. Before it was over, her hands and knuckles were stinging. Not fast enough. She’d only gotten a smidgen of his thumb, and that was because she cheated by grabbing a hold of it while she swatted with the other.

  “What’s next, rock, paper, scissors?” She peeled back a broken nail, an injury of the battle. “You don’t like to lose, do you?”

  “That’s why it rarely happens.” He pulled her across his chest and cradled her close in his arms.

  Venus smoothed a finger across the arch of his lips, “Have you ever asked a woman to marry you? Have you ever been that far in a relationship?”

  “Nope, and I have no shame admitting it” He nipped at her fingers until he caught one in his mouth. The warmth of his tongue wrapped tightly around her finger made her moan. He sucked lightly before letting it slip past his lips. “So you want to be married?”

  “I do. Absolutely. It’s expected, it’s tradition. I want a family. Kids. Plus, married people live longer. It’s a proven fact. Not to mention stability, constant love, constant companionship.”

  He pushed the sheet away that was draped over her legs. “You can get all that from a dog, or a cat, constant companionship. There must be something more.” His fingers trailed gently across her pubic line, down to the fold of moistness between her legs.