by LK Collins
“Thanks, Jan,” I tell my mother-in-law as I leave the house and head to therapy.
“Of course, dear, we’ll see you soon.”
Heading out, the sun is warm this morning. As I drive away from my house, I grab my coffee, and I’m reminded of the first time I met Thane. Who knew a trip to the local Starbucks could turn into what it has?
The drive is short, and as I pull into the parking lot, I’m not dreading my appointment, like I usually do.
“Morning,” I tell my psychologist’s receptionist, and she says, “Morning, you can go right in.”
“Thanks.” I knock, and Dr. Brinkman looks up at me from her mahogany desk.
“Hi, Faye, please come in.”
Gently I shut the door and take my coat off, then sit on one of the open chairs. “How are you doing today?” she asks me.
“I’m okay.”
She gets up and sits across from me; her brown eyes are interested—studying me. “You look good, Faye.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there a reason?” she asks.
“Not really,” I tell her, not knowing if I should talk to her about Thane.
She looks down at her notes and then says to me, “Faye, I’ve been seeing you for a year now. During that time, I’ve watched you struggle to accept the reality that Ben is really gone, grieve and blame yourself, adjust to life the best you could without him, but as I sit across from you today, something has changed. What is it?”
Hearing her say all these things takes me back to all the sessions we’ve been through. I have struggled and grieved and blamed myself and questioned it all. This past year has been dire. Then the pain all seemed to lessen the moment I met Thane. He’s really been a breath of fresh air.
“I met someone,” I confess. “A friend of sorts.”
“Does this friend have a name?” she asks me.
“Thane.”
“How did you two meet?”
“He bought me a cup of coffee when I forgot my wallet once.”
“And he was a complete stranger?”
“Yeah, and since he’s become a friend,” I tell her.
“How do you feel when you’re around him?” Her question makes me feel obliged to tell her about the push I feel from Ben. Maybe she can help me make sense of it.
“I feel like Ben is around me more when Thane’s around. Also, I don’t think about the pain as often. He’s easy to be around, he makes me laugh, and our conversation is easy.”
“Does Thane know about all this?” she asks me.
“Most of it, yeah.”
“And what was his reaction?”
“That maybe Ben brought us together.”
“Do you believe that?” she asks me, jotting something down on her notepad.
I look out her window at the Seattle skyline. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Dr. Brinkman. But what I do know is this last year without Ben has been the hardest time in my life, then all of sudden, I meet this guy, and everything now feels different.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Thane is not like other men. He’s caring and very respectful. He has a son too, the same age as Braxley. They’re actually in the same class. And Thane’s been through his fair share of crap too. He’s going through a divorce now, but no matter what, he still puts his son first.”
“Have you two been intimate?”
“No, God, no. We can’t even kiss.”
“What if you did? How would that make you feel?”
“We’ve tried, and it hasn’t gone well. It’s something that’s very hard for me.”
“Wow, Faye, I’m…I’m really proud of you.”
“You are?”
“Yes, you’ve made it through a horrific time, and I have a feeling you are at the end of the pain and about to open yourself up to something really good. I want you to remember what Ben told you. He wants you to move on and be happy. That could be why you’re feeling him when Thane’s around—he’s approving.”
Her words take me back to the day when Ben was on his deathbed, and he made me promise to not wear my ring after he was gone and to not wallow in the pain of him dying. He wanted me to move on, to celebrate waking up each day healthy, and to find someone else for me and for Braxley.
Envisioning his strength as he told me those words makes me wonder, did he send Thane…?
12
Thane
“Cheers,” Elliot raises his glass to me, and I touch mine to his, not really sure what we’re celebrating, but who fucking cares—we’re in Mexico for the night. “Have you ever thought about wearing your uniform out, man?”
“In public?” I question him.
“Yeah. You know the ladies dig a guy in uniform, we’d get so much pussy it’d be sick.”
“No way, that’d be fuckin’ corny.”
“Shut up. You know every time you tell a woman you’re a pilot, it’s like they automatically spread their legs for you.”
The bartender walks by, and Elliott orders us another round.
“We don’t all just bang every pair of spread legs, Elliott.”
“Why not, captain? You need to hook up with someone, to get past all the shit that went down between you and Char.”
“Nah, man. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
My phone vibrates, and I ignore Elliot, looking to see a text from Faye. As I read her words, he snatches my phone out of my hand.
“‘Just got Braxley down, now I’m relaxing. Hope Mexico is good,’” he reads out loud, then asks me, “Is this why?” showing me my phone.
I didn’t see the picture before; it must’ve just come through. I reach for my phone, but he pulls it away before I can take it and types something. Then he drops it on the bar, and I pick it up, looking at Faye’s pink toes under the running water of her bathtub. Then I read Elliott’s words, and I could punch him in his teeth.
Let me see more! is what he said to her. Fuck! He has no clue how things are between us. Or who she is or what she’s been through.
“You pissed?”
I’m more than pissed. I’m not even sure how to handle him right now. He’s drunk, and so am I, but I’m still coherent enough to know that message is just going to push Faye further away.
“I could fucking kill you, man.”
“Fuck off. I did you a favor. So who is this chick? You fucked her yet?”
“No, man, I haven’t. She’s just a friend.’”
Then on the center of the bar, my phone vibrates, and we both reach for it. Thankfully, I get to it first, and when I open the message, I’m so surprised to see more of her legs. This picture is from the thighs down, and my cock twitches.
“Let me see?” Elliott requests, reaching for my phone. But I put it into my pocket, tossing a hundred down on the bar. “I’ll see you at five,” I tell him.
“Oh, come on,” he hollers after me, but I ignore him and keep walking, heading back to my room. All the while, my eyes are on Faye’s legs looking at me through the clear water.
Entering my room, I walk out to the balcony and snap a picture of the ocean, contemplating what to say to her. Do I tell her that I didn’t send the text asking for more? ‘Cause, fuck, I want more.
Erasing the picture, I just type what I’m feeling, just like she did. You’re so fucking gorgeous.
Thank you, can I see you?
I snap a photo of myself feeling a little bit strange doing it, but she asked, and right now, I’m so horny. Sending it to her, she messages me, Where are you?
I send her the photo of the ocean from my balcony and say, My room.
Going back to her sexy picture, I want more. Dammit, I need more.
Can I see all of you? I ask her and then wait.
My cock is so hard waiting, and I worry I’ve pushed too far. Heading inside, I grab a beer from the mini fridge and flop stomach down on the bed, looking at the picture of her legs while I lie here.
I don’t know what it is about F
aye that makes me want her so much, but I can’t help it. I didn’t want our first time to be like this, but maybe this is how it needs to be. Then I get a text from her, and it says, Are you that disappointed?
What do you mean? I respond.
In my body.
Going into my call log, I dial her phone number and the second she answers; I cut her off. “What are you talking about? Why would you think that?”
“Didn’t you get my picture?”
“Only the two of your legs. Did you send more?”
“Uh huh,” she’s quiet.
“I thought I pushed you too far.”
“No, you didn’t. I sent it to you.”
“Send it again,” I command her, and she asks me, “Are you sure?”
“Goddammit, yes! Don’t make me fly there right now and lose my job so I can prove it to—”
But my words are cut short as her beautiful body stares back at me. Her tits are huge, plump and round, with the softest pink nipples I’ve seen. Her stomach is flat and her pussy…“Fuck me,” I grumble out loud, and she says, “So you like it?”
“Faye, your body is so fucking perfect. You’re amazing.”
“I wish you were here,” she says, and I whisper, “Me too.” Imagining myself being there with her, “Are you still in the bath?” I ask her.
“Uh huh.”
“Will you touch yourself?”
“If you do.”
Rolling over, my dick gets harder from her words. Unzipping my pants, I wrestle my cock out. The need to come is so strong that as I grip the base of my shaft, my balls tighten and my cock pulsates in my hand.
Going back into my pictures, I look at her body as I stroke myself, and she says to me. “I need a picture of you.”
With my dick in my hand, I send it to her, and she gasps. “You like it?” I ask.
“Uh huh.”
Soft moans pour out of her, and I wish I was there to see her making them. “Tell me what you’re doing.”
“I’m…I’m sorry I’ve never done this.”
“Me neither. Just close your eyes and imagine I’m there with you.”
“‘Kay.”
“Fuck, I’m hard.”
“Mmmhhh,” she moans, and I move faster, jerking myself at the speed I can visualize myself pounding her.
“Fuck, I want you,” I tell her.
“Me too,” and I never thought I’d hear her say those words back. I never thought we’d be at this point, but we are, and fuck, it’s good.
She moans long and soft, her noises are like music to my ears, and my body reacts to it. “Talk to me,” she requests.
“Jesus, you’re gorgeous.” I look at the picture again stroking my cock all the way to the tip.
“Oh God, I’m gonna come.”
“Fuck, Faye,” I grunt, giving over to the pleasure too.
“Oh, Thane,” she moans loudly, and cum shoots from the tip of my dick. My orgasm is fucking intense. I can’t believe we just did this. After not being able to kiss, then this is how we begin things? How fucking backward is that?
13
Faye
Waking up, my eyes are heavy, and as I bring in the room, something feels different. Then I’m reminded of what Thane and I did last night, and I can’t believe it really happened.
Resting my hand against my forehead, I roll to my side and find what I thought would be a heavy weight of regret weighing on me isn’t there.
Instead, I find contentment bursting inside me. The relief I’ve been searching for is so strong and reassuring; it’s almost scary. Reaching on my nightstand for the picture of Ben that I sometimes hang my necklace on with our rings, I lift it up and look at him. God, it feels like so long ago since I saw him.
Closing my eyes as I clutch the rings, I hold them against my chest and study his face. I can almost hear his laugh. Jesus, all we did was laugh; he was so funny and goofy. Lifting the photo, I kiss his face and then set it back down.
My phone chimes and I grab it to see a text from Thane. I can’t wait to see you, he messages me, along with a picture of a sunrise. Me too. Thank you for last night, I message him back, thinking about what we did.
Right away he responds, Are you kidding me? Thank you! Was it okay?
Yeah. I liked it.
Good, me too.
Where are you? I ask, curiously, wanting to know where he is as I thought he was flying all day.
Just landed at LAX, then I’ll be home. Can I see you?
Yes! I respond, probably a little too quickly. But I haven’t done this since I was in high school, so I don’t know how to be. What I do know is that Thane likes me for who I am, so I’m not going to change or question things. Like last night, I was scared and nervous, but I pushed through and followed my gut, and because of that, I’m really happy.
I can’t wait, Faye.
Staring at my phone, my stomach is full of butterflies. I can’t wait either.
Hopping out of bed, I go to wake Braxley, but he’s already up, sitting on the floor of his room eating cereal out of the box as he watches cartoons. “Morning, baby.”
“Hi, Mommy.”
“How’d ya sleep?” I ask him kissing the top of his hair as he stares at the television and then sit next to him.
“Okay.” He seems a little more quiet than usual—withdrawn—as if something’s bothering him, so I ask, “Are you feeling okay today?”
“Yeah. I miss Daddy.”
“Oh, baby,” I pull him into a tight hug, holding his tiny body close against my chest. “So do I; so do I.”
“When can I see him again?”
Tears fill my eyes, listening to his words, and I search for the right answer, but I can’t find it. “I…I…”
Please, Lord, give me strength.
“Honey, you’ll see your daddy one day in heaven, but that won’t be for a very long time.”
“But what if I want to talk to him now?”
“You can always talk to him; he’s listening.”
“But I can’t see him.”
“No, you can’t.”
I blink a few times wishing I could give him something more, another way to connect with Ben. Then it hits me, and I imagine taking him with me to Ben’s gravesite. But I don’t know if I can. When he was buried, Braxley was so young. I don’t think he remembers, or at least we haven’t talked about it. But he’s asking now, and it is my responsibility as his mother to help him through these things.
Letting go of my son, I ask him, “What do you say I take you to a place where we know your dad is?”
“Can I see him?”
“No.”
“But remember your daddy’s always right here, so you can talk to him whenever you want,” and I touch the spot on the left side of his chest where his heart is. He looks down at my finger and places his small hand over mine as he closes his eyes.
The tears I’m trying so hard to hold back break free, as I watch my son try to connect with his dad.
Please, Ben, give him a sign.
But Braxley opens his eyes and shakes his head. “He’s not answering.”
“That’s okay; it doesn’t mean he’s not listening.”
“Can you take me to the place?”
“Sure, honey…”
“Can we have pancakes every day?” Braxley asks me from the backseat of my car as I make the trip to the cemetery with him.
“Sure can. But I thought you loved lasagna for breakfast?”
“I do, but Grandma Jan says it’s not breakfast food.”
“Sure it is. You can eat anything you want for breakfast.”
He smiles at me in the rearview mirror then looks out the window as we pull through the gates of the cemetery. It’s funny how a place where everything looks the same and you’d think would be confusing to navigate around isn’t. I know right where I’m going. My heart is pounding, and my hands are clammy as I pull down the row where Ben is.
Putting the car in park, I take in a deep b
reath, “We’re here.”
Getting out, the smell in the air is the same, the same as the day Ben was laid to rest. Pine trees and dead flowers, it’s almost nauseating. “Ready?” I ask Braxley, doing my best to stay strong for him as he grabs the bouquet of flowers from the back seat that he picked out.
With both of his feet on the ground, I hold his free hand and walk along the back of the tombstones until we reach Ben’s simple white marble one.
“Here he is,” I tell Braxley through a sob, imagining my Ben, buried below the dirt. It’s so unfair how life dealt him the hands of cards it did.
“So daddy’s here?”
“Yes, baby, daddy’s here.” We both kneel down, and I wipe the marble clean of debris, like always. Braxley takes the flowers and lays them down, just like all the others are. He’s so observant for his age.
“Can I talk to him?”
I nod and wipe my eyes dry.
“Hi, Daddy, it’s me, Braxley. I miss you, and Mommy misses you too. I can’t wait to see you in heaven; I hope you’re okay and not sick no more.”
Listening to his words breaks my heart. He’s so young and doesn’t deserve to know death this way. If only I could keep him protected from the pain of grieving, I would. I’d lay my life down on the line to give him back his dad in a heartbeat.
14
Thane
After picking up Jack from Char’s house, I don’t know which one of us is more excited to go over to Faye’s. Granted, I was reluctant to leave him with Char while I was out of town, but Faye convinced me to do it, and it all worked out okay. “Did you and your mom have fun, buddy?”
“Yeah, we didn’t do any shopping, Dad. We built Legos and watched movies. It was fun.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.”
“I can’t wait to hang out with Braxley.”
“Yeah? You miss him?” He nods his head, and I’m glad the boys have each other. They’ve become the best of friends. Checking my phone at a stoplight, I still have not heard back from Faye. I texted her hours ago asking if she needed anything on my way, and her silence is beginning to make me nervous.