Jennifer's Triad

by Laura Anne Turner

  We kiss once more, and she rolls off my body and onto her side. I put my arms around her waist, and press my breasts against her back. Soon her soft and rhythmic breathing tells me she’s fallen sound asleep.

  +++

  “Hi Blacky! I was expecting you to call much sooner,” Martin says when I call him the next day.

  “Yeah, well, Martin, sometimes I don’t live up to people’s expectations,” I reply, smiling wryly.

  “I bet I know why you’re calling,” Martin says.

  “So you can read my mind now? Prove it!” I tease him.

  “Because you want to know everything about a certain person. Especially about what her relationship is with a certain guy.”

  I have to sigh. “Yeah, that’s right, Martin. So, who’s that guy Emilia was so friendly with?”

  “It’s Stephen, our new drummer.”

  “Oh? Well, well. First Robin, and now Stephen. I’m starting to think Emilia’s got a thing for drummers.”

  Martin laughs. “Says the girl who’s in love with a drummer.”

  Involuntarily I have to laugh at Martin’s joke. “So, what’s going on between Emilia and her latest drummer?”

  Martin pauses a moment before he answers. “Well, they seem to like one another.” He pauses again, making me cringe with anticipation. “Seriously, though, Jenny, you shouldn’t believe everything you see.”

  I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me. “I’m not fluent in cryptic, Martin. What exactly do you mean?”

  He clears his throat. “I don’t know Emilia as well as you do, Blacky, but I don’t seriously believe that she’s over you, or that she’s ready to…well, move on, I guess you’d say.”

  I shake my head in frustration. As if I had any idea what’s going on with Enigmatic Emi. “Martin, I only saw Emilia and her drummer boy for a few minutes, but they were obviously…friendly? I have no idea how friendly, though.” I start twisting a strand of my long hair around my fingers. “So, Martin, what do you think’s going on between those two?”

  Martin takes his time before he replies, making me even more nervous. “I think Emilia enjoys the attention she’s getting from Stephen. I don’t think it’s more than just that yet.”

  “Okay.” I let out my breath for a long moment, and I come to the conclusion that the only thing talking to Martin about Emi is going to accomplish is to make me even more obsess over her. So I change the subject. “How are things going with the band?”

  Martin turns enthusiastic immediately. “Really, really well indeed. We found a new bass player, and we’ve had our first rehearsal, and it went great. We definitely have new chemistry.”

  I do my best to be happy for him. “I’m glad to hear that.” I pause for a moment while I remember there’s something else I wanted to ask him. “Martin, do you know where I can buy a used car? I’m looking for one that runs okay, but that doesn’t cost too much. Since you’re a mechanic, I know you’re the one I should ask about.”

  Martin seems puzzled. “You want to buy a car, now, Blacky? Why’d you change your mind about it?”

  “Because, Martin, I found out that taking the bus to ‘The Coldhearts’ farmhouse really sucks.”

  I can almost hear him wince. “Oh, that’s right. It’s pretty far away from everything, and if the weather’s bad...”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “Okay!” Martin becomes businesslike. “How much can you afford to spend, Jenny?”

  I’ve been able to save some money since I joined ‘The Coldhearts’, especially since I’ve kept my old job at the wine bar. I tell Martin how much I’ve got in the bank.

  Martin whistles. “Oh, I see you’ve been making some real money since you started playing with ‘The Coldhearts’.” He becomes enthusiastic again. “I’ll start looking around for you, Jenny. The place where I work has a parking lot full of used cars.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Do you have any idea what kind of car you have in mind?”

  “As long as it’s got room for my bass in it, I don’t care.”

  Martin chuckles. “Okay, good enough, Jenny. I’ll do my best to find something for you, and I’ll call you if I do. I have to go now, Blacky. Take care.” And then he says, “Please?” sounding exactly as if he were my big brother who worried about me a little too much.

  That brings a lopsided grin to my face. “Okay, Martin, and thanks a lot, for everything you do for me. Give my love to Maria. See you!”

  After Martin says goodbye I end the call, and lean back in the armchair I’ve been sitting in. I glance around the living room of the farmhouse. I realize Nellie and Ina have been watching me, listening to my side of my conversation with Martin. Nellie’s sitting on one end of the sofa, and Ina’s sitting on the other, while a pretty blonde girl is lying between the two of them. I didn’t have to worry about her listening in to my conversation with Martin, because she’s asleep with her head on Ina’s lap. Her name is Kira, I think. I just met her briefly last night after Ina picked her up after our gig at the mall. All I know about her is that she’s got a cute accent that sounds Eastern European. Ina was too eager to get her into bed to allow us any time for proper introductions. She’s very cute, though. Bette’s nowhere in sight; she must still be in bed with Tanja, which is still surprising, because Bette didn’t do that, sleep with the same girl twice.

  I smile at Nellie and Ina. I don’t care if they’ve heard everything I’ve said. They know what’s going on between Emilia and I.

  “So, what did Martin have to say?” Nellie asks.

  “He said I shouldn’t get the idea that Emilia’s over me, that she just likes the attention she gets from Stephen.” I wish I could be sure that Martin’s right about that.

  “Who’s Stephen?” Ina asks.

  “He’s the drummer in Martin’s new band.”

  Ina starts giggling, which wakes up Kira, who mutters something sleepily in a language I don’t understand. She sits up, puts her head on Ina’s shoulder, and closes her eyes again. “What’s that about drummers?” Ina says stroking Kira’s hair. “Too bad Emilia doesn’t have a thing for girl drummers.”

  Nellie bursts out laughing, and so do I.

  “Yeah, I know, right?” I say, giving Nellie a seductive look. “Girl drummers are hot.” I lick my lips and grin at her, which makes everyone start giggling.

  Finally, Nellie becomes thoughtful. “So, according to Martin, there’s still hope for you and Emilia?”

  “According to him, yeah. I’d like to believe that, Nell, but I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  “Well, you can be sure that girl of yours isn’t over you, Baby Doll,” a voice from behind me says, and I feel a hand on my shoulder. Turning around and looking up, I meet Bette’s blue eyes with mine, and she gives me a wry grin. “I have some experience with girls,” she says, “and if your girl shows up at our gig, it means either she’s a masochist, or she’s not over you.”

  I have to laugh. “Emilia’s definitely not a masochist.” I smile back at Bette. She’s got bed hair, or sex hair, and she’s not wearing any makeup, but is still beautiful. Strangely enough her words make me feel warm all over, somehow. Partly, because I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about, and partly because I can’t help feeling that she really cares.

  CHAPTER 12 – A BOTCHED RECONCILIATION

  I’m sitting at the entrance of her apartment, leaning my back against the door. I’m waiting for Emilia to come home. She’s still not answering my phone calls, or my texts, but I’ve got to talk to her. Things with Nellie are fine, even wonderful, but I’m still pining after Emilia. I still want us to be together, and I haven’t given up hope that we can be. Especially after I heard what Martin, Nellie, and Bette had to say on the subject.

  Finally, I hear the footsteps of someone coming up the stairs. It’s Emilia! She’s lost in thought as she takes the last flight of stairs up to her apartment. She’s wearing skinny jeans, and she’s put her hair up in a messy bun. Her skin looks paler than it normally
does, and she’s wearing a lot more black eye shadow than she used to. What’s she hiding? Has she been crying again? She looks tired. Is it because she’s been sleeping even worse than I have? Emilia’s still so beautiful. My stomach clenches, and my heart starts palpitating. A wave of love and concern for her washes over me.

  Emilia finally looks up and sees me. Her expression is blankly surprised, but she doesn’t smile. I miss her smile so much, and the way she used to smile at me. Still, at least she doesn’t look angrily at me.

  “What do you want, Jenny?” Emilia says with a sigh. Her expression remains neutral, making it impossible for me to read her emotions. At least she doesn’t call me ‘Jennifer Meier’. Maybe she’s not as angry with me as she used to be? I’m almost afraid to hope that she is.

  “I need to talk to you, Emilia,” I say, my voice trembling. “I need to know how you are,” I add timidly. “Talk to me? Please?”

  “I’m all right.” She looks at me for a long moment, before she continues in a cool tone, “Could you please let me into my apartment?”

  Getting up slowly, I make room for her to put the key into the lock. She opens the door, and steps inside, leaving me lingering on her doorstep. At least hasn’t slammed the door into my face! Emilia turns to face me, and our eyes meet for a long moment, and I can’t help holding my breath.

  “Okay, come in, Jenny,” she says eventually.

  “Thank you, Emilia,” I say in a low voice, as I step past her, entering the apartment. It’s weird that this room was practically my own home. I avoid looking at the bed with its comforter pulled back invitingly. Emilia hangs her jean jacket on the coat rack in the small entrance hallway, and then puts her backpack in a corner next to her desk. She doesn’t invite me to sit down, so I remain standing.

  My eyes follow her as she walks to the little kitchen unit, and takes a bottle of water from the fridge. It’s so hard to keep my eyes from her perfectly shaped buttocks. It’s even harder to keep from yearning for her.

  She glances back at me. “You want some water?” she asks me. Her features are still neutral, and so is her tone.

  “Yes, please.”

  Emilia fills two glasses with sparkling water, and puts the bottle back into the fridge, the kitchen counter separating us. She hands me a glass, and then as she takes a sip from her own glass, she examines me from under her lashes.

  “Now, tell me, Jenny, just what it is you want?” Emilia breaks the silence between us.

  “I want to know how you are, Emilia,” I blurt out. “You haven’t been sick, have you?”

  She frowns slightly. “No.”

  “Good.” I smile nervously. “How are you doing with your studies?”

  She eyes me thoughtfully before she answers. “Well, I finished my thesis, and I’m done with my exams, too.” She smiles slightly. “I’m reasonably sure everything’s gone quite well.”

  “I’m really happy to hear that,” I say, smiling eagerly. An uncomfortable silence follows my reply. The silence begins to make me really anxious, so I’ve got to fill it. “Martin told me you joined his new band.”

  “I know that. Martin told me you called him.” Her answer is short.

  “Oh, I see. And, ah, why did you say yes to him?” To stop fidgeting I take my glass from the counter and take a sip of water.

  Emilia shrugs. “Well, you know, I’ve always enjoyed singing, and since they fired Robin, it made saying yes to Martin easy.”

  “Martin said your first rehearsals went well.”

  “Yes, they certainly did,” Emilia says, and there’s a hint of a smile on her pretty face. “I still like the songs including the ones you wrote.” She gives me a small, but definite smile. “All of us think that you’re a really talented songwriter, Jenny. I’ve always liked your lyrics.”

  I smile back at her. “It’s good to hear you say that, Emi. I wrote two new songs. Maybe you remember one of them from the gig you saw, it’s called ‘Back from the Dead.’”

  Emilia nods. ‘I remember that one.” She walks past me, and sits down on the edge of her bed. Assuming it’s an invitation to me to sit down, too, I’m tempted to sit down next to her, but instead I take a seat on her desk chair across from her.

  She studies me for a long moment, before she asks. “So how are you doing, Jenny?”

  “Pretty well, actually.” It’s not completely true without you in my life, but it’s true as far as my music and some other things are concerned. I gesture animatedly. “The Coldhearts play a lot of gigs, and we’re rehearsing new material.” Unsure of how much she wants to hear about my new bandmates, I change the subject to safer grounds. “I’ve enrolled at college, too. I’ve decided to study history and English, and I signed up for some classes. I’ve been familiarizing myself with the campus, too, so I’ll know where to find everything when semester starts.”

  “That’s very sensible. I’m really glad you finally decided to go to college.” There’s a hint of a smile on her face again. “So, what classes are you going to be taking your first semester?”

  Of course Emilia is very well aware that I’ll have to start out at school by taking introductory courses, but we’re both happy to talk about something we’re not likely to get in an argument over. Our conversation goes on for a while when I hear Emilia’s stomach growl.

  “Oh, you are hungry,” I state matter-of-factly. “Have you eaten today?”

  “Other than some doughnuts, no,” she replies, sighing. “I think I’m going to order pizza,” Emilia says. “You want one, too?”

  Hearing the word pizza I notice how hungry I am myself. Besides, I don’t want to leave Emilia’s place when things seem to be going well between us. “Pizza? Oh, please, yes!”

  Emilia giggles at my remark. She gets up, takes her cell phone from the kitchen counter, and orders two pizzas. She doesn’t have to ask me what kind I want – she knows my favorite one is a ‘Pizza Speciale’ which comes with mushrooms, ham, salami, and onions.

  When Emilia ends her call, she opens the door of the fridge, and turns to me. “Want a beer?”

  Of course I grin at her and say yes. Emilia takes two bottles of lager from the fridge, opens them, and hands one to me.

  “Cheers,” I say, clinking bottles with her.

  “Cheers,” she replies, and our eyes meet and lock together as we each take a big gulp. Emilia’s eyes are gleaming. I haven’t seen her look at me like that in what seems like a long, long time.

  After the pizza is delivered, we sit down at the kitchen counter, eat our pizza, and drink beer. We talk about everything and anything, but we’re both always careful to stick to safe subjects. While we’re each on our second bottle of beer I realize there’s still quite a bit of erotic tension between us. I can’t tell if Emilia realizes it too, because she’s so good at hiding her emotions. Suddenly she gets up, walks around the kitchen counter, and stops right in front of me. It doesn’t take words. She leans forward and kisses me, and as soon as her lips touch mine, I wrap my arms around her slender waist, and I pull her onto my lap. Emilia strokes my hair while our kiss deepens, and my arousal grows. Judging by her sighs, and by the way she begins to tremble, her own arousal is growing right along with mine. Finally, she breaks our kiss, and gets up off my lap.

  “Come on, Jenny,” Emilia says huskily. She takes my hand, and I hold on to her hand, grinning, dazed, until we come to her bed. She lays me down on it, and climbs on top of me. We kiss and caress one another feverishly as we struggle out of our clothes.

  “Oh God, Emi, I’ve missed you,” I murmur between kisses.

  “I’ve missed you so much, too, Jen,” she gasps in reply.

  Our hands are everywhere, stroking and caressing one another’s bodies, while our kissing becomes even more passionate. Our sexual reunion is rushed, heated, and needy. It doesn’t take long before we end up with our faces buried between one another’s thighs, and we kiss and lick and suck our hot, aching flesh.

  Finally, Emilia groans as her body begi
ns to spasm, and she cries out my name as she reaches her climax. It makes me answer her shudders and cries with my own, as her orgasm pushes me over the edge as well. And that’s only the beginning of a reunion that goes on for what seems like hours.

  +++

  The morning after I wake up with a slight headache. I seem to be feeling a bit foggy mentally, because it takes me a moment to figure out exactly where I am and what exactly happened last night. When my memories of what I think were hours of feverish lovemaking with Emilia come back to me, I open my eyes, startled, and close them again, since the morning’s light hurts my eyes. I take another moment, and then I open my eyes more carefully. I squint around me, and discover that Emilia’s propped up on her elbows, watching me. There’s a radiant smile on her angelic lips.

  “Hey you,” I manage to rasp.

  “Hey you,” Emilia replies, leaning forward to kiss my lips tenderly. “You’re so cute when you’re asleep, Jenny.”

  “How long have you been watching me?”

  “Oh, just for a few minutes.” Her eyes sparkle mischievously. “You were drooling.”

  “Ewww!” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

  She giggles. “I decided that you were drooling because you were dreaming of me, Sleepyhead.” She sits up and pushes the comforter aside, revealing her sweet little breasts. “You want some coffee?”

  I gawk at her for a moment. “Yeah, that’d be great, Emi,” I say, rubbing my face and blinking.

  Emilia gets up, and my eyes follow her swaying hips, as she walks to the kitchen unit, where she switches on the coffee machine. She disappears in the bathroom, and when she comes back, she’s wearing a black dressing gown that looks like it might be silk. It must be new, because I don’t remember having seen it on her before. She pours two cups of steaming coffee, adds sugar, and hands me a cup, before she slips under the comforter again.