Heart of Change

by Roxy Harte

  She pulls me nearer. “I want to be a part of your life.”

  Simon’s words from only hours ago echo through my brain. I’d rather be your friend than not part of your life at all. Is that why Geri’s here, to make certain we can be friends?

  I lean over to kiss the dark freckle above her lip just because I’ve wanted to for so long.

  She smiles at me, letting me pull back into myself. We’re still touching, but I am as stiff as when she first put her arm around me.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I repeat, not wanting to ruin everything again, but needing to know. “Did Meg call you? Tina? Are you supposed to talk me out of going to Japan?”

  Her face turns serious and she looks at me a long time before answering. “They both called and I panicked that you would leave and I might never see you again. So I drove through a storm hoping to get here before you left. I’m tired of running from you. From everyone. I haven’t really dated since Sheila. I hate to admit it, but she made me fear love. I don’t ever want to hurt as badly again as I did when she walked out of my life. Being with you has reminded me what it means to be aware of my beating heart again. I’m not here to keep you from going to Tokyo just like I know you would never interfere with my need to travel sometimes. I just knew that I had to come here and offer to share my life with you, because I think what we both feel when we are together is some kind of once-in-a-lifetime magic that goes way beyond love.”

  Pretty words. I try to get my cynical self in check, but Simon has really done a number on my mind too. And to think, a week ago I would have been happy with I love you.

  “I’m too late, aren’t I?” she asks.

  “I don’t know, Geri. My heart still pounds like crazy when I see you. My body wants you to make love to it. Like now. It doesn’t want my brain to think too hard on this…but the problem is that my brain is thinking and I know that you will never be able to handle being in a long-term relationship with Simone Sinclair, porn star.”

  “What happened to retiring and being a normal person raising a baby?”

  “A lot happened in seven days.”

  She nods and the look that crosses her face isn’t a happy one. “So what’s it going to take to be a part of your life?”

  “Acceptance of who I am and what I do is a start. Whether I’m a porn star or a porn producer, I’m still the same me that you’ve known all these years…and I’m relocating to Tokyo, so you figure it out.”

  She doesn’t leave, she doesn’t pull away. She holds me, silently, and after a while, I relax against her because the storm and her warmth are lulling.

  Minutes or hours later, I fall asleep against her, and after a while, she must sleep too because when I wake again, it is deep night and the storm no longer whistles around the house. Rolling off the sofa, I don’t try to be extra quiet, but don’t want to wake her either. I realize fairly quickly that nothing is going to wake Geri. She looks exhausted, even in deep sleep.

  In the bathroom, I prep the next pee stick and then pass it under my urine. I’m so nervous, my hand shakes. It isn’t a long wait. Negative.

  “Shit.” I go to bed, crawling under the covers, leaving Geri asleep downstairs on the couch. It hits me that I’m done fighting for I love you from anyone. Maybe because she said the words and the words didn’t change anything. If anyone wants to love me, they can, but I’m done trying to make it happen and they’ll have to prove it with actions not words.

  I toss and turn, deciding to just be happy with the happy moments that happen each day and having Geri on my couch definitely counted. It seems like I might never fall asleep but then I am waking up, and find Geri sitting on the edge of the bed. She holds my discarded pee stick in her hand and tears run down her face. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay,” I say resolutely. “I’m going to have to be. Four more days of this, waiting to figure out if it’s positive or negative, I might go insane.”

  She nods. “I’m sorry I fell asleep. You could have woke me up.”

  “I’ve slept the whole time you slept,” I assure her. “Worry is hard work. I think I’m still exhausted.”

  She lies down beside me and I feel her shoulders shake, her silent tears becoming a forlorn sob.

  “Oh, don’t do that. You’ll get me started,” I beg.

  She pulls me into her arms and, for a second, my heart races, thinking that she might ask me to stay, but then she doesn’t and I don’t know what to think. I kiss her shoulder, kiss her neck. She’s still wearing the same clothes she arrived in and I decide that she needs to be wearing none at all. “I need a shower, take one with me?” I ask, standing, holding my hand out to her. She nods, taking my hand.

  In the bathroom, I pull off my clothes, adjust the water temperature, and climb under the shower spray. Through the glass doors, I watch her undress and feel like I shouldn’t be watching, but I can’t help myself as her shirt comes off, then her pants. I am surprised to see that she is wearing girls’ bikini underwear, white cotton, but still, girls’. Her bra matches. It is the same half-cami style that she wore the first time I saw her take off her clothes. She’s much more relaxed this time and I wonder what the difference is.

  She pulls the bra over her head and lowers her panties. She isn’t strapped on, no hidden package, just girl, and I wonder about that, but only until she turns around. She ducks her head when she opens the glass door. I step into the corner, making room for her, enjoying her shyness. She turns to face me, putting me eye to eye with her perfect breasts. I palm a bar of soap and start to rub it over her chest and then dropping down just far enough to lather her breasts. I focus on them only long enough to draw her nipples to tight buds then lather her stomach and hips, her ass cheeks and then finally just a tease between her legs. She doesn’t shave. And her mons is beautiful covered in downy, blonde-brown hair. I lather her pubic hair and then play with the suds, swirling, dipping my finger deeper.

  She growls, taking the bar of soap, insisting, “My turn,” and her voice sounds tight with desire. I stop her, explaining, “I can’t. Three weeks, remember?”

  Nodding, she pulls me into her arms, tucking her face into my neck and, over the spray of the shower, I barely hear her say, “I love you.”

  Kissing her shoulder, I convince myself that I only heard what I wanted to hear. I’m so good at that.

  A while later, we lay side by side in my bed. The storm is over and dawn is breaking clear and bright. “I want you. I think we could sixty-nine…as long as I don’t orgasm…would that be okay?”

  She nods and it is only slightly awkward as we reposition with me on the bottom and her on top. I wrap my hands around her thighs, pulling her closer just as she licks her first tongue stroke over my clit. “Oh God. This might be harder than I thought.”

  She slides her tongue to a less sensitive spot. “Better?”

  “Much.” I stick my tongue out tentatively, but then as my lips close around her clit, it becomes second nature. I lick her, suck her, sliding my tongue in circles around her clit, just like I would if she had a dick instead.

  I suck her clit into my mouth and keep sucking, hard and fast. I slide my fingers between the lips of her labia, teasing, not penetrating. I feel her hips start bucking against my face and even then I’m not willing to let go, not until I hear her moans turn to sobs.

  “Oh God, Simone, oh God! What you do to me.”

  Two hours later, I am climbing into Simon’s Escalade, leaving Geri in my driveway, sitting in her Jeep, looking stunned and confused. I kissed her goodbye, not saying the words. I didn’t have any words in me to say, not I love you, or I’ll miss you, though both would have been true. I try not to think too hard about when or if I will see Geri again, I just face forward, hidden behind dark sunglasses, not daring to look in the rearview mirror because I don’t think that she ever looked in hers the times she was driving away from me. Because if she’d have looked, she’d have seen me doubled over, sobbing, and I don’t think she would ha
ve kept driving if she’d seen me like that. I know if I look and I see her in that condition, it would break my heart, but I don’t know if I could turn around if I knew she was crying. Have I grown so cold? So uncompassionate?

  No, I’m a coward. I don’t look because my future is in Japan and I know that if I look and she’s sobbing, I won’t go. I close my eyes and grip the door handle with a death grip.

  “Are you okay?” Simon asks from beside me.

  “I’m okay. This better be a fucking hellacious spa you’re taking me to.”

  He smiles, reaching over to squeeze my thigh and the warmth of his touch is welcome. He’s always been there for me, through the good, through the bad, he’s seen it all. I don’t hate him, not at all. In a way, I need him and he needs me, but I don’t want to dwell on that.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Spa experience does not even begin to describe my first day in Japan. I lie on a cushioned chaise with my eyes closed, a warm mist wafting around me from the hot springs. I’m tempted, but I won’t climb in the very hot water, not while there is still a chance of pregnancy…and I have one more pee stick before I can call it a failure.

  Bird song fills the small, sheltered area, finches of all colors roosting in thick clumps of lacy green bamboo. A small waterfall bubbles gently behind me and soft music filters out through an open door.

  A petite, dark-haired woman with green eyes and a teasing smile massages my fingers. When I close my eyes, I see her naked, perhaps tied in rope. I want her, not for me, but for the production company. I could make her famous. I imagine Simon having the same thoughts about me twenty years ago. He said once, “We’re not so different,” and I hate to admit it, but he’s right about that. I can imagine stripping my masseuse and bending her over the massage table. I imagine what her skin would feel like beneath my hands, what her come would taste like on my lips.

  I am like Simon. However, I wouldn’t manipulate the girl with sweet words. I wouldn’t make her fall in love with me to get her naked in front of my camera.

  As long as I’m being honest with myself I have to admit that I’m good at this business. I was good at being a porn star and I have no doubt I will do just as well on the other side of the camera. And damn it, I miss being in the studio.

  I can do this. Alone.

  I’m glad that Simon and I had the long flight to talk things through. My role, his role. He liked the new name Simon Simone Productions, though he thought my name should be first, Simone Simon. I laughed and told him that since I was taking eighty percent of the profits, he should be happy with having his name first. Besides, although I didn’t tell him, the other way seemed too much like a marriage.

  We ate dinner on the plane and, though it was very elegant, it wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t business either, it was just two old friends.

  “I hurt you when I wasn’t supportive of your decision to have a baby. I was just shocked, surprised, and I didn’t want to be a father again.”

  “I never once asked you to be my baby’s father.”

  “I know.” He looked into his glass of wine and swirled it. “You know, Jeremy was a lucky kid. His father was a jerk, his mother disappeared, but he managed to find you. I think he’d tell you that he thinks of you as his mother.”

  I snorted. “I’m glad I could be Jeremy’s friend.”

  “A friend doesn’t go to every single baseball, soccer, basketball game of his life. A friend doesn’t hunt him down and convince him back home to the father who didn’t even have a clue where to look when he ran away. You always listened, you always took an interest, and you always knew exactly what was going on in his life. I was always too fucking busy to raise my son. You weren’t and that’s why I told you I wouldn’t give you a baby, not because you are a porn star, not because you are too old, but because of my mistakes. I was a horrible father to Jeremy…I don’t want to screw it up a second time around.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not looking for a father,” I said. “I’m not even pregnant…yet.”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that if you do have a baby, I won’t screw up. If you let me into your life, into your child’s life, I’ll be there.”

  “I think the implantation failed,” I admitted.

  He lifted my dropped chin and made me look into his eyes. “So, try again. I’m sure that there are fertility clinics in Tokyo,” he winked, “and if there isn’t any Caucasian sperm…I’ll donate some.”

  We clinked wine glasses and laughed. As if.

  But the conversation did make me feel better. I’m not a quitter. I will try again.

  I relax deeper, the woman massaging my hands really knows what she is doing. I’m trying not to think too hard, but I’m dwelling on Simon’s words. I have to just focus on the happy moments of each day. And last night’s dinner was a happy moment. A very happy moment. It’s a good thing he’s back on a plane to the States, because I would hate to think that I’d end up naked with him again just because he was nice to me.

  I smile, my brain recalling all of the frenzied, naked moments with Simon. I think I can file those memories under very happy moments…as long as I can keep the pain of not being able to make him love me out of it…and I don’t even believe that anymore. Simon loves me, but it isn’t a fairytale love…no white picket fences in our future. I’m okay with that.

  The masseuse rubs her hand up my arm, signaling we are done, and I open my eyes, finding her magical green eyes staring at me intently. “When your baby come?”

  “What?” I ask, confused, surely Simon didn’t disclose that I was trying to get pregnant.

  “How long? Very early, yes?”

  “Yes,” I say, mesmerized by her eyes. She bows and I watch her walk away. My open mouth gapes after her and I realize that I haven’t peed on a stick in three days, not since the night of the storm, even though they are packed in my bag.

  I hurry to my room, rummaging through bags until I finally find one. I’m so nervous I have to run water in the sink to make myself relax enough to go. I sit the stick on the counter, afraid of jarring it and messing up the results. I pace, counting each second.

  Positive.

  I stare at the stick. I can’t believe it. I’m really pregnant. I’m going to have a baby. I scream, I jump up and down, I twirl in circles before falling on the bed laughing hysterically. I have to tell someone! I grab my cell, finding I had four missed calls in the space of a one-hour massage. I listen to my voicemail.

  Simon: “I wanted to let you know, I’ve landed in Seattle. If you need anything, call me. I’ll keep on top of Cho to make sure that everything is ready for you when you arrive in the city.”

  Tina: “Are you there? Are you sure you want to be there? Call me!”

  Meg: “Have you lost your mind or is Simon forcing you to do this? That man! Errgh! If you need us, call us. Seriously!”

  Tina: “I just talked to Geri…will you please call me?”

  Deleting the messages, I sigh, not knowing that I want to call any of them. I’m too happy, too excited to have to defend my decisions…again.

  I leave my room through the sliding doors that lead out onto an open veranda and the paved walkways beyond that with small signs that promise Meditation Trails with a dark, black arrow pointing the way.

  Calm, peaceful, meditation…trail. That sounds good.

  When I wasn’t looking, summer turned into autumn and the evidence is all around me, even though it is comfortably warm. The trees on the mountain are changing colors. I inhale the scent of pine and dirt and an herb or flower that I’ve never smelled before, but one that is quite heavenly. I’m glad I’m here. As soon as I think the thought, I know it is truth. Not just that I am at the spa, but that I am in Japan. It seems like the perfect place for a new beginning.

  I’m pregnant.

  As I stand on a small balcony that is built into a mountain, giving me a mysterious view of fog rising around the surrounding cliffs, I am filled with awe and wonder. I wi
sh the studio was here. In the mountains…not in the heart of Tokyo…and then I start to wonder how I can make that happen, because I want my child surrounded by this rural beauty, not necessarily the sights and sounds of the city.

  “It’s your baby,” Simon had said of the studio. Does that mean I’m completely in control? And how reasonable would it be to expect that the people in these mountains would be as accepting of a porn studio tucked into their small corner of the world, whereas within the crowded buildings of the city, no one would notice. Besides, I’m certain there are more education opportunities in the city, schools, museums, theaters…

  I purse my lips, deciding that I want both for my baby. High-rise living in Tokyo has its perks, but maybe I could have a weekend house in the country as well. Now, that’s a plan. That’s a very good plan.

  “I may have to have one of these meditation trails at my weekend house.”

  Yes, I like the sound of that.

  I rub my hand over my flat abdomen. “Hello, baby.” I close my eyes with wonderment. I can hardly believe I’m pregnant. What if the test was a false positive?

  Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! I panic, running back down the path to my room and peeing on another stick. Positive.

  I pick up my cell and see I missed three calls. This is ridiculous. I ignore my voicemail box and call Dr. Abrams. His office is closed because it is after five p.m. there. Of course it is! I’d have to call at 2 a.m. Tokyo time to reach his office when he first gets in…or I could just leave a message. I decide it is a day for messages and say, “This is Simone Sinclair and I just wanted you to know that the home pregnancy test is positive! What do I do now?”

  I close my cell and it beeps, reminding me I have messages…

  Do I even want to know? I dial and listen against my better judgment.

  Geri: “When you left yesterday, I suddenly realized just how awful I’ve been to you. How awful I’ve been to a lot of women since Sheila, but especially you, because I left wanting to echo the words you were saying to me, but I was just afraid to say them. I’m not afraid now. I hope I’m not too late. I love you, Simone Sinclair. I think I have since the moment I first met you.”