LaClaire Kiss

by Dori Lavelle

  “Are you sure he’s qualified?”

  “Did you hear what I just said? He is—or was—a … or was a Crystal Lake employee. Of course, he’s qualified.”

  “Then, I’m glad you hired him. Now try to get some rest.”

  “I would if you’d just hang up.”

  Bryant laughs, and in spite of my annoyance, so do I. After the call, I wheel myself into the hallway and remain there, observing the luxury of wood, glass, and fabric furnishings.

  I wish I could appreciate it all, wish I could enjoy it without limitations. This house was bought by our parents when we were kids. We spent some wonderful summers here, running on the beach, diving into the pool. That’s what I did most of the time—swimming. That, and surfing. Whatever had anything to do with water, I was game for. Determined not to feel sorry for myself, I return downstairs and head to the kitchen. Valentina had left some lasagna on the kitchen island for me, still warm and ready to eat.

  I take my food with me out onto the terrace leading to the pool, and enjoy it while watching the water. It’s so still, untouched, pulling me in.

  After the experience I’d had at Crystal Lake, the thought of entering a swimming pool again fills me with dread, but the urge to prove myself and my body that I’ve still got it in me to be a swimmer is stronger than ever. I wrestle with it as I finish my food and return the plate to the kitchen.

  Back upstairs, I wheel myself through the hallway, past six bedrooms until I reach the guest room. Without thinking, I enter, but remain close to the door. My eyes land on the bed. Even though it had been made, I imagine it ruffled and messy, the sheets all over the place.

  I move closer into the room, breathing in. I detect a whiff of baby powder scent in the air. It could be my imagination, because every time a guest leaves, Valentina makes sure to clean up the room well and air the place. Imagination or not, I close my eyes and breathe Alice in. Then shame fills me, and I open my eyes again. What the hell am I doing? Why am I here? In this room? I’m not even supposed to be thinking about her. But I can’t get myself to leave yet.

  Unable to stop myself, I find myself in the bathroom. Everything is gleaming, the glass around the shower, the faucets, and other metallic appliances. Something else is on the dresser and its gleaming just as brightly. I approach the dresser and pick it up, hold it in my hand before curling my fingers around it. I open my hand again and gaze at it. My eyes stare at it, studying the individual pendants. The heart with a precious stone in the middle, a butterfly, a key. I saw her wearing the golden memory bracelet both times when she came to see me. It must mean something to her.

  How would I be able to get it back to her without a way to contact her? Bryant has a number, maybe even Doc, but asking them for it would cause them to read too much into this. I’ll decide what to do with it tomorrow morning. I might have to bite the bullet and ask Bryant if he knows where she’s staying so Juan can drop it off.

  I reenter the room with it and put it on the bed, then I leave to go to my own bedroom, where I transfer myself from the wheelchair onto the bed and lie there gazing at the vaulted ceiling, listening to my heartbeat, my breath as it enters my nose and leaves my mouth. It feels incredible to have no one around but silence.

  As I lie there, Alice invades my mind again. A familiar ache, born on the day I saw her first at Crystal Lake, cuts through me. I have to get her out of my mind, fight the images of her smiling face until they disappear forever. There’s no denying I have feelings for her, whether she’s here or not, but I’ll learn to ignore them. I have to. In time, she’ll be nothing but a memory. Like her sister.

  I shut my eyes, and not long after, I fall into a deep sleep, where I dream of running on the beach, swimming in the ocean, diving into the rolling waves.

  I wake up an hour later, heavy and crushed to find nothing has changed, my mind disoriented. Since sleep no longer interests me, I stare at my legs, willing them to move with the power of my mind. Nothing changes. I freaking hate those dreams, the kind in which I’m whole again, running and moving about with healthy legs, happy. Only to wake up to the hard, cold truth.

  12

  Lance

  I spent two hours staring at my legs, waiting for something to move, for life to return to my bones. As usual, the disappointment is crushing. Now here I am, at the pool, at 9 p.m., trying to talk myself out of doing something irresponsible—or stupid, as my brothers would call it.

  But I’m tired, tired of waiting for something to happen, tired of being disappointed time and time again. I need to take action to try and get a piece of myself back, the self I once knew.

  My gaze lowers to the yoga mat I placed on the side of the pool next to the ladder.

  The water refuses to quit tempting me to give it another shot.

  I wheel myself closer to the edge of the deep end. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right. I won’t let my fear stop me. Not this time.

  The guys at Crystal Lake had made it look so easy. Maybe it is, maybe it really is all in my head.

  The me inside my head tells me not to be stupid, warns me that I could end up drowning for real this time with no one here to save me. I ignore it, and with the help of my arms, shift myself forward in the wheelchair, my eyes focused on the water, the ultimate price. Winning over the fear, I lean forward, let go of the support that wheelchair is giving me, and throw myself into the liquid. We were once friends, water and I. Surely, it won’t let me down for a second time.

  For a moment, I sink, but then I remember the strength of my arms and use it, to help me tread water. It feels like nothing beneath me, but my arms are helping me move upward. My head breaks through the surface of the liquid, and I blink water out of my eyes. My body lightens as I draw in a breath of air while keeping my arms moving to keep from going back under. But I’m starting to feel heavier every second. And then, without warning, the little voice inside my head gets louder.

  What if you drown? You’ll end up dead. No one is here to save you.

  The first time I succeeded at ignoring it, but this time, the words send my body and mind into a state of panic, breaking through my self-control. My confidence dissipates, weakening me. I try to move my arms again, but they feel like stone, my entire body a statue.

  My breath is coming in quick, ragged gasps. The water I hoped would be a friend turns into an enemy. Our friendship, it seems, is a thing of the past.

  My breathing gets labored as I start to go down, unable to move at all now. Everything is happening in slow motion, until my head is submerged by the water. I hold onto my breath until my lungs feel about to burst. I’m in desperate need of oxygen, but my body has forgotten how to move, how to fight. On reflex, I open my mouth to shout for help. Water gushes in, choking me. I slam my mouth shut again and my eyes fly open, focusing on the tiny lights at the side of the pool.

  Maybe this is it. Maybe I should let go right here, right now. Maybe dying inside the pool isn’t such a bad idea. Even though no one would know, I’d die trying. What do I need to live for, anyway? I’m not interested in the life fate has handed me. Time to give it back.

  I close my eyes and pray for speed.

  From a distance, I hear a splash, but I can’t follow where the sound is coming from as water plugs my ears.

  Then something touches me, hands beneath my body, as I relax and give in to death. Someone is pulling me out now, helping me float, dragging me to the surface of the water. My head emerges from the water and I splatter and cough through my raw throat.

  “It’s okay, Lance. You’re safe.” The voice is familiar, too familiar.

  I open my eyes again and meet her blue eyes. Her hair is plastered to her head and her eyes are round with shock.

  At the sight of her, warmth blooms inside my chest.

  She’s back; Alice is back. And she’s struggling to get me out of the water.

  “Ladder,” I whisper and cough again.

  “Okay. Let’s get you out.” She gets the message an
d moves me along the edge of the pool to the ladder. Once we get there, she places one of my hands on the metal and I curl my fingers around it.

  I’m trembling now, not just from the near-death experience, another failed attempt at taking my life, but from the shock of seeing her again.

  “What … why are you here?” I ask, when I’m able to catch my breath.

  “Don’t talk. Don’t strain yourself. You need to get your energy back. Let’s get you out.”

  With her holding onto my legs, pushing me upward and me using my arms to heave myself onto the yoga mat, we managed to get me out of the water. I’m lying on my back, feet stealing the water, eyes gazing up at the dark sky. She’s lying next to me on the tiles, panting as she sweeps her wet hair from her face.

  She pulls herself up on one elbow, and places a hand on one side of my face. “Are you okay?”

  I swallow hard. “Fine.”

  “That’s good. You scared the hell out of me.” Tears spring to her eyes.

  Why is she crying? The longer I watch her, the harder her shoulders shake, and the tears slide down her cheeks, merging with the pool water.

  God knows what gets into me, but I reach out and bring her close until she is only a breath away from my face. For a while nothing happens. We just breathe, our eyes locked in the moment. Then, my hand moves to the back of her neck. I draw her closer, my tongue sliding between her lips.

  The kiss is hungry, hot, desperate, confusing. As quickly as it started, it ends, but our lips remain glued to each other, our breaths merging into one. She smells of baby powder even wet. She tastes as good as she smells.

  Finally, I come to my senses and pull away, my heart splintering.

  “I’m sorry.” She twirls a wet lock of hair around her finger. “I’m so sorry about that.” She gets to her feet. She’s wearing a white knee-length dress that’s now sticking to her body, following the lines of her curves, stretching around her breasts. Water drips from the hem to her feet. Her breasts move up and down as she continues to pant for air.

  The desire to kiss her again is so strong, exploding in the center of my chest, but that would be wrong.

  I pull myself to a sitting position. “I should be the one who’s sorry.” I rake a hand through my damp hair. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  She pulls my wheelchair closer to me, and as she tries to help me get up onto it, I stop her. “It’s okay. I can do it myself.”

  A groan rumbles inside my throat as I move my legs one by one from the pool and shift closer to the wheelchair after locking the wheels to make sure it won’t move. As much as I want to kiss this woman, I want to run away from her. She terrifies the hell out of me, makes me want to do things I haven’t done for years. And she makes me want to paint again, to paint her. I can’t. I can’t get close to her.

  “Why did you ... Why did you do that?” she asks.

  “It was a mistake. I’m sorry.” I adjust my feet in the wheelchair.

  She shakes her head. “I mean, why were you in the pool without anyone to help you?”

  “I didn’t want to kill myself, if that’s what you think.”

  She wraps her arms around her body. “No, that’s not what I think.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to discuss it.”

  “I understand.” She stares at me for a while, then lets out a sigh. “I guess I should go. I forgot my bracelet. The door was unlocked. I didn’t mean to intrude. I had no idea you left Crystal Lake. I thought Valentina would be here.” She turns to leave, but before she walks through the glass doors, she glances back at me. “Please don’t do that again. You almost drowned.”

  “Thank you for being here on time.”

  She nods. “I’ll not be here next time.”

  “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.” I knead my shoulder. “Forgive me for—”

  “The kiss?” She gathers her hair to one side and squeezes out the water.

  “Yeah. I have no idea what came over me.”

  “You’ve nothing to apologize for. Let’s forget it happened.” A smile touches her soft lips, the lips I just kissed. “Goodbye, Lance LaClaire.”

  With that, she walks out of my life, leaving me shattered.

  13

  Lance

  It’s past midnight, and I’m sitting on my bed in the dark bedroom with the TV blaring, but the sound doesn’t drown out my thoughts. My legs dangle over the edge of the bed, feet touching the ground but feeling nothing.

  The kiss from the pool is tormenting me, repeating over and over in my mind. The feel of her lips on mine, her velvet touch, and her breath on my skin were intoxicating. I’d tried so hard to fight my feelings for her, and it took one kiss to unlock a part of me that had been shut off, sending all kinds of emotions spinning out of control. The woman is like a curse. Now she’s gone, and I have no idea what to do, how to forget her. Things would have been so much easier without the kiss. What did I go and do that for? Was I out of my damn mind?

  I mute the TV and pick up the phone. I need to talk to someone.

  Doc’s voice is drowned out by the ruffle of sheets on his end as he probably sits up in bed. “Lance, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I am.” The lie comes easy, but he knows me too well.

  I shouldn’t have called him. I’m suddenly unsure of whether I’m ready to talk about this to anyone, or if I want anyone’s advice.

  “If you were all right, you wouldn’t be calling me at this time. Talk to me.”

  “Something happened.” My jaw tightens. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Stop thinking too much. Say whatever pops into your head right now.” He pauses. “Would you prefer it if I came over to your place? I wouldn’t mind.”

  Of course, he wouldn’t mind. I pay him enough money to be available every time I need him. But it’s been a while since I called him this late at night.

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “So, what’s keeping you awake? Does it have something to do with Alice Dupuis?” He pauses to let me digest the words. The man knows me too well.

  “Why would you bring her up? She no longer lives here.”

  “I think that woman turned your world upside down. Every time I mention her during our sessions, your face softens. It contradicts your words. Go ahead and admit that you like her.”

  “I admit she’s a nice woman, but I like a lot of people.” I wipe the sweat from my forehead and close my eyes. “Who am I kidding? Fine, I like her more than I want to. It’s driving me insane, Doc.”

  “Finally.” He laughs and the ice between us shatters. “Lance, there’s nothing wrong with being attracted to a woman again. I think it’s a good thing she came to Cabo to see you.”

  “I don’t see what’s good about that. All she does is mess with my head, even when she’s not here.” Before she came along, I knew I wanted to die, to leave this world behind. Now, after the kiss, I’m not sure I even want that anymore.

  “It’s a really good thing because she opened your heart up. She broke through your resistance. I’m not implying anything here, but she could be good for you.”

  “You know it can’t go anywhere.”

  “You’re just going to continue spending sleepless nights thinking about her and not do anything about it?”

  I fall back onto the bed, a hand buried in my hair. “She was here, three hours ago.” I won’t go into details. Telling him I went swimming and almost drowned would be a big mistake. “I kissed her.”

  Thick silence plugs the line and I imagine Doc thinking, a finger tapping against his lips. “You kissed her?” The words come out slowly, deliberately.

  “That’s right.” Out of nowhere, a smile hijacks my lips. Suddenly, the kiss no longer feels like it was such a bad idea. “I have no idea what this means.”

  “How did she react to the kiss?”

  “She kissed me back.” Her hands had curled into my hair, her lips had parted without force, her tongue had tangoed
with mine. In that moment, we were connected; she had been into it as much as I was. There’s no denying electricity had sparked between us.

  “Now what?” Doc asks. “What do you intend on doing about it?”

  “I wish I knew. What can I do? You’re the professional.”

  “How about you talk to her about what happened? See how she reacts.”

  “Not gonna happen.” I press a fist to my forehead. “She’s gone, remember? She only dropped by to get something she’d forgotten.”

  “You do have her number, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t. But Bryant does.”

  “Why don’t you ask for it?” Doc clears his throat. “Aren’t you curious at all to know how she feels?”

  “What would knowing help?” My heart shuts down again. “I’ve nothing to offer her—or any woman, for that matter.”

  “Lance, even though you’re in a wheelchair, you have so much to offer. Not every woman is looking for the same thing. Men who walk are not the only ones allowed to date. Alice must like you or else she wouldn’t be coming back into your life time and time again.”

  “As I said, she only came because she forgot something.”

  “What if she forgot it on purpose? What if she was looking for an excuse to come back? Maybe even subconsciously.”

  Could he be right? Could Alice really have wanted to return here? But she didn’t know I left Crystal Lake. Unless, of course, Bryant had mentioned it to her. But why would he do such a thing? “Whether she did it on purpose or not doesn’t really matter at this point.” I sigh. “Doc, I just needed somebody to talk to. I’m thinking clearer now. I should go to bed.”

  “Lance, if you ignore your feelings, they will keep coming back until you find closure with this woman. You mentioned she’s in town for a while. Think about getting your closure, then you can decide if you really want to let her go.”

  “How could she want anything to do with me? I’m not a real man.”