Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey

by Joachim, Jean C.

  “Please…please…bear.” They could not wait any longer. He began to move as she gripped his hips, pulling him deeper into her. He increased his pace, then stopped, trying to make the feeling last.

  “No, no…don’t stop…bear…”

  He lost control and began to thrust hard and fast. She cried out as her whole body shuddered. Her climax launched his, his muscles tightened and he exploded inside her, groaning loudly and wrapping his arms around her.

  Afterward, Peter moved over beside her and cuddled her in close to him.

  “Amazing,” he muttered, stroking her hair, burying his face in her neck.

  Peter jumped up to search for a pillow and a quilt. Finding them, he returned to the floor with Lara, covering them both and sharing the pillow.

  “Making love with you is incredible. You…you take me places I’ve never been before. I love you so much.” She stroked his chest.

  “I love you too, honey.” He kissed her tenderly.

  Entwined together, the lovers fell asleep in front of the fire. When it died down, the chill in the air woke them up. The living room was pitch black. Peter turned on a light and guided Lara up to the big bed in the master bedroom. They huddled together to warm up the freezing cold sheets and soon the lovers drifted off to sleep.

  In the morning, sunshine flooded the living room and deck early, but the bedroom faced the west and didn’t get sun until the afternoon. So it wasn’t the sun that woke Peter, it was the absolute quiet.

  * * * *

  Lara felt the bed tilt as he slid silently out of bed. The old floor creaked a bit under his bare feet, as he walked to the bathroom.

  The sound of the shower forced her to fully wake up. She rolled over, opened her eyes and saw light. Looking out the sliding glass doors to the valley below the house. She could see everything. Her sight had returned completely.

  In shock, putting her hand to her mouth, Lara gasped. Peter finished his shower and stepped out dripping wet onto the bathmat. Lara turned to look at him, and couldn’t believe her eyes…he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He picked up a towel and began to dry himself. Lara lay back down on the bed, turning only her head to study him as he lathered his face. Her gaze traveled over every inch of his body. At one point he seemed to feel her stare and glanced at the bed, but she pretended to be asleep.

  He was finely formed, in perfect proportion. His shoulders were broad and his chest, deep and powerful, was covered with blond hair. His face, what she could see of it under the shaving lather, had even, perfect features and his blond hair, slightly long, soaking wet, hung straight into his eyes. His hands were large with long, lean, fingers—perfect for playing the piano. His legs were long with muscular thighs and calves and he was tall, very tall. She watched the large muscles in his upper arms and forearms work as he dragged the razor over his face. In the reflection of the bathroom mirror she saw his eyes were a bright, intense blue. Peter was beautiful. Lara never expected him to look like this.

  He finished shaving, caught a glimpse of her moving out of the corner of his eye and turned around to face her. She was smiling as her eyes raked over his body slowly, up and down and up again. Her smile grew wider. Peter, suddenly self-conscious, tucked a towel around his waist and stared at her.

  “Too late, mister. I saw everything already.” She giggled at his modesty.

  “Saw? You can see?” He moved swiftly to the bed.

  “I can see. I can see everything…in perfect light and color. Isn’t it wonderful! I can see everything, including you, bear, and, I must say, you are something wonderful to behold.”

  Peter grabbed her and hugged her. Then he put her back at arm’s length and stared into her eyes.

  “You can see…you were spying on me?”

  “Guilty as charged.” She held onto his wrists.

  “So do you like what you see?”

  “You are beautiful.”

  “I’m not beautiful. You’re beautiful. I’m a man. A man can’t be beautiful.”

  “You’re handsome, then. You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

  He took her in his arms and held her close.

  “I can’t believe you can see…”

  “I’m so happy! Oh, bear, now I have it all, or almost all.”

  “What’s left?”

  “The return of my memory. Let’s call Dr. Weiss.” She tugged on his hand.

  “Pants, first.” He retrieved his clothes from the chair.

  After breakfast, Lara made three calls, one to Dr. Weiss, one to her uncle Jim, and one to Sam.

  “I don’t want to stop looking at you. I don’t want to close my eyes ever again.” She put her hand on his chest.

  “First I want to show you the lake, then the changing leaves. We can go hiking…watch a movie! Now you can come to my class and look at the art…so much to catch up on, honey.” Peter rested his palm on her cheek.

  Her eyes danced with anticipation. Peter grabbed their coats, tossing Lara’s to her, which she caught easily.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  They hiked around the lake, stopping to watch eagles soar above looking for fish and spied a variety of wildlife from squirrels gathering food, to wild turkeys, to a few colorful birds still waiting to fly south.

  Next they went for a drive down deserted country roads with field after field of trees whose leaves were turning from green to brilliant red, warm orange and iridescent gold. They passed scene after scene providing a riot of color with their last stunning sweep of beauty before the trees slept for the winter. Lara, a city girl, missed the beauty of fall. Unless she walked in Central Park, the glory of the changing of the leaves was something that eluded her.

  They had lunch at Eagle’s Nest, a local bistro. The lovers sat in a corner booth overlooking the lake, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. The owners couldn’t believe another set of lovebirds from the little shingled house on the lake perched over a tiny table in their restaurant. “Do you have to go back to South Africa in May?”

  “I could look for a permanent teaching job in the States. But it will probably be a year before I can settle here. Are you going to go back to dancing?” Peter took a bite of his sandwich.

  “I’d like to teach ballet. I could teach for a long time but I can only dance for a few more years…if that.” She sipped on her coffee.

  After an exhilarating and exhausting day, the lovers rented a movie and fell asleep by eleven.

  * * * *

  Sunday morning, Peter again arose early and tiptoed out of the house without waking Lara. He returned and put coffee on. The smell of the brewing coffee woke Lara up. Peter entered the big bedroom with two steaming mugs on a tray. Under his arm were several newspapers.

  “Now you can enjoy the best part of Sunday morning, next to making love, coffee in bed with the newspaper,” he said, putting the tray down on the dresser and dumping the newspapers on the bed. He toed off his shoes. Lara smiled up at him as he handed her a mug.

  “I want to make breakfast and serve it in bed to you,” Lara said.

  “You could serve yourself to me in bed instead, honeybee.” Peter kissed her as he climbed back into bed.

  “First, food.” She popped up and disappeared downstairs.

  In fifteen minutes, Lara arrived with the same tray covered with plates of bacon and eggs and toast with jam.

  “This is the best Sunday morning ever.” Peter tucked into the eggs.

  He divided up the newspapers. They read to themselves and then they read aloud, sharing stories. They discussed news articles, columns for the lovelorn, did the crossword puzzle together, and laughed at the comics. Too soon it was time to return to Willow Falls.

  The ride home was bittersweet. The weekend could not have been more perfect.

  “Buying that cottage was the smartest thing my parents ever did,” Peter said.

  “Giving birth to you was the smartest thing they ever did.” Lara smiled as she watched the
scenery breeze by the window.

  Peter squeezed her hand briefly. He wasn’t looking forward to getting back to the real world where he had papers to grade, a house to share with his dad, Fran to contend with, and Lara returning to her room next door. Peter enjoyed having her around all the time yet he wasn’t ready to make a commitment.

  Sunday night, Peter carried Lara’s small suitcase up to her door. Fran was waiting inside.

  “Well, it’s about time you two got home from your…your…illicit weekend. You have company, Lara,” Fran said and stepped away from the door, revealing Andres Volinsky standing behind her.

  Lara gasped.

  “Andres! What are you doing here?”

  “You aunt told me you regained your sight and might be interested in coming back to the ballet. So I came here to try to…convince you. Madame Fouret wants to see you dance.”

  “Lara, who is this?” Peter asked.

  “This is Andres Volinsky, my former dance partner…”

  “And lover,” Andres added.

  “Andres!” Lara said, blushing.

  “Former lover…but you never know,” he said.

  Peter’s face got red. “Lara is with me now.” His jaw tightened.

  “We’ll see for how long.” Andres shot Peter a disdainful look.

  “I’ve invited Andres to stay for a few weeks to get you into shape, so you can go back to dancing and return to New York City…where you belong, Lara.”

  Lara stood by silently.

  “Lara, why don’t you stay with me? Then Andres can stay in your room,” Peter offered.

  “Good idea.” She turned furious eyes on Fran. “Andres, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “You could at least thank me for arranging this,” Fran said.

  “For arranging to get me out of Uncle Jim’s house faster? You’ve interfered with my life, butted in without my consent or desire. Thanks…for nothing,” Lara retorted.

  Peter was standing at the door, waiting. “Are you going back to dancing in New York?”

  “I don’t know. I’m pretty old to go back.”

  “What about your idea of teaching dance? You could teach right here. Who is this Andres guy? Are going to sleep with him again?” Peter fired questions at her.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. Andres became my partner after Keith died…and no, I have no intention of sleeping with him. I love you, remember?”

  “How was your weekend?” Sam asked them as they walked in the door.

  “Sam!” Lara said, rushing over to him.

  She gave him a big hug, then stood back and looked at him.

  “It’s so great to finally see your face. You’re even more handsome than I thought you’d be.”

  “Thank you, Lara.” Color tinted Sam’s cheeks.

  “The weekend was fantastic.” Peter put his arm around Lara.

  “So romantic…” she sighed.

  Sam smiled.

  “Lara I’ve put your suitcase in the bedroom, I’ve got to talk to Dad for a few moments.” Peter took his father’s arm and ushered him into the kitchen.

  “What’s up, Pete?” Sam sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Can Lara stay here for a few days?”

  “With you?”

  “Yes.” Peter put the flame under the kettle for tea.

  “Sure.”

  “Fran invited Lara’s old dance partner to train her to go back to the ballet. I want to ask her to come back to South Africa with me in May but I don’t know where she stands with this guy.”

  “Back to South Africa…as your wife?” Sam raised his eyebrows and smiled.

  “I’m not ready for that yet…” Peter said, moving to the cabinet.

  “You want her to come with you without marriage? I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s risky for her…I doubt she’ll say yes.” Sam shook his head.

  “How risky is it? I love her, I’m not going to desert her in a strange country.”

  “Then marry her, Peter.”

  “Marriage? I…” he opened the cabinet door and took out several mugs.

  “I almost lost your mother that way.”

  “What way?” Peter turned, giving his father his full attention.

  “By not proposing soon enough. Not marrying her when I should have.”

  “What happened?” Peter sat down at the table.

  “We were at college together, but you know all that. Anyway, she went off to graduate school in New York City while I went to graduate school at Austen Mansfield in Florida. Your mother was the most beautiful woman in New York and she was dating every rich, handsome, accomplished guy there. I was in agony.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I got the hell out of Florida! I hated to leave, but I was terrified of losing your mother. I transferred to Columbia University for my second master’s year and proposed to Ellen the day I got the acceptance letter. Had to do it over the phone.” Sam chuckled at the memory.

  “And?” Peter prodded, resting his chin in his hand.

  “I married your mother right after our first year ended. I was lucky to snatch her up before someone else did. Of course, after we finished in New York, we moved back to Austen Mansfield. I got my doctorate there and she taught piano. Mac was born there.”

  “So you think I might lose Lara by not proposing now?”

  “You could, Pete. I was lucky. You may not be.”

  Sam reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small box.

  “I’ve been meaning to give you this. Now seems like the right time.” Sam handed his son the box.

  Peter opened it to reveal a stunning diamond ring with two emeralds on either side. He shot his father a quizzical look.

  “It’s the engagement ring I gave your mother. I’ve been saving it. Mac got engaged too quickly. When I decided to give them the lake house, I saved this for you. I don’t know if you need it now, but in case you do…if not now, then whenever you’ve found the right girl.”

  Peter’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, as he remembered his mother wearing it. He didn’t want to make a marriage commitment yet, especially with Andres on the scene. Peter needed to be completely sure Lara loved him, was committed to him, before he proposed. Still he was honored to have the ring.

  “It’s beautiful, Dad. Thanks.” Peter put the ring in his pocket and gave his father a brief hug. He went into his room and smiled to see Lara unpacking.

  “I’m going to clear some space for you, honeybee,” he said, emptying a few drawers. He stepped out of the way and watched her move in. He liked the idea. He liked it a lot.

  “Now I’ll be with you every day…and sleep with you every night,” Peter said.

  “Bear, you have a one track mind!”

  “I know. I hope you’re on the same track. My job here is over in May and I have to go back to South Africa. Will you come with me?”

  Lara stopped and looked at him.

  “Leave the country? What would I do there?”

  “Live with me.” He stretched out on the bed, lacing his fingers behind his head.

  “It’s almost eight months away. Let’s see how we feel when it gets closer.” She resumed unpacking.

  “I’ll contact the university and see if you can teach dance there. We need to apply for your visa, so we can’t wait until the last minute.” He sat up.

  Peter tried to hide his disappointment at not getting an enthusiastic response. Lara seemed reluctant and his father’s words echoed in his head.

  “Please give me some time. I need to sort out my life.” She folded lingerie and placed it in the empty drawer.

  “Will there be a place for me in your life?” he asked, suddenly unsure of himself.

  “Of course! You’re my bear, aren’t you?”

  “This bear wants some honey.” He pulled her onto the bed next to him and kissed her with passion.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Peter stopped practicing piano and moved his chair to the window t
o watch Andres and Lara dancing across the way. Lara was practicing her turns with Andres holding her waist and spinning her. Peter felt a bolt of jealousy shoot through him as he watched her turn again and again while Andres’ hands moved on her ribcage, balancing her.

  Lara’s forehead was damp with sweat. She stopped and Andres moved his hands up over her breasts. Lara pushed his hands back down to her waist. He leaned over and kissed her neck while his hands crept up again. She pushed them down again. Peter was ready to jump through the window and punch him in the jaw when she wiggled free of Andres’ grasp and reached for a small towel.

  “I told you not to do that, Andres. We’re not a couple anymore. I’m with Peter and you shouldn’t touch me.”

  “Tell me you don’t like it when I do that, chérie? You used to love it. You used to love it when I put my hands…” He took a step toward her.

  “But I don’t anymore. If you want to dance with me, Andres, you’ll have to keep your hands professional…get it?” Lara held out her hand, palm up, to stop his advancing.

  “But we dance so much better together when we are lovers, chérie.”

  “Andres! Back off. Dancing…only.” She mopped her face with the towel.

  Peter was still steaming, but Lara was handling it.

  “Okay, okay. But if you change your mind…or need a massage, let me know. I still like you, chérie. We were good together.”

  “I love Peter and won’t be needing any massages from you, okay?”

  “Another hour, eh, chérie?”

  “One more hour, then that’s it for today.”

  “Soon you will be good enough to perform for Madame Fouret and it will be because I came here to train you. There are lots of ways you can repay me, Lara…”

  “Back off. There are lots of women in the ballet. Find someone else.” She stretched her legs and got into position.

  “Ah, yes, there are lots of women there…but none so…so…responsive…so sexy, chérie. I remember…”

  “Forget it. Now let’s do this step again,” she said, focusing on the dance.