Is This All There Is?

by Mann, Patricia

  “Is this some kind of new age therapy, laugh at your patient when they talk about something painful?”

  “Oh no, Dave, I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s horrible that she told you in an email. And I can relate. I had my heart broken by immature jerks in college way too many times. It’s just, whew, I’m not used to drinking this much. I zoned out for a second and then I started laughing because I was thinking about how bad I have to go to the bathroom. We can talk more about all this when I get back, okay?”

  “Sure, okay,” he said, but he still looked a bit wounded. What a good guy, I thought. His mother is so lucky. I wondered if my boys would be that sensitive.

  It took forever to get to the bathroom, shoving my way through the crowd. As I locked the door of the tiny stall, the walls started to spin. At the sink, I splashed cold water on my cheeks and patted them dry with a paper towel. The young women gazing at themselves in the mirror didn’t seem to notice me as they refreshed their lipstick and made predictions about who would end up going home together. When I left the restroom, I was surprised to see Dave standing right outside the door, holding my sweater and his jacket. I felt dizzy. He looked at me with concern.

  “I don’t feel very good,” I said.

  He grabbed my hand and led me toward the back door of the club. His hand was soft and warm. There wasn’t enough space for us to walk side by side so he stayed a few feet ahead, pulling me through the mob.

  Before we made it to the door, I lost my balance again. I started to fall but he caught me. He turned to face me and grabbed me by the waist. “Mmm, you smell good,” he said as he turned me around so that my back was pressed against the front of his body. He kept a tight grip on my waist, propping me up as we continued to head for the door. I was surprised by how strong he was. We walked that way, with my back attached to him as he propelled me forward, until we made it outside. The alley was dark except for a dim flickering street light.

  He released his grip slowly to test my ability to hold myself up. I wobbled a bit then stabilized myself. Without speaking, he held up my sweater and I slid my arms through the sleeves. Then he put on his own jacket. I bent down and took a few deep breaths. I still felt unsteady but the air was helping. He watched and asked if he could get me anything. I stood up and said no.

  “I feel better.”

  “Good. I shouldn’t have bought you that last drink.”

  “No, I’m fine really. This fresh air is exactly what I needed. Thanks.”

  He leaned in closer to me and looked into my eyes for too long. As he opened his mouth to speak, I saw a Tic Tac tucked into his cheek.

  “Did you mean what you said before?”

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “Of course I did.”

  He was about to say something when a couple came stumbling out the door laughing loudly. They gave us a passing glance and staggered off into the distance.

  “Because I feel the same way. I had a huge crush on you when I was in your class.”

  I thought my heart would leap out of my chest. He moved closer. Those eyes. From this distance, I could see little flecks of gold in the green.

  “Dave, I think you misunderstood. I’m flattered, really, it’s very sweet.” I paused, searching for something else to say.

  “No it’s not sweet, my feelings for you are not sweet. They’re wrong and I know it. What I want to do right now is very wrong.” He stared at me for a long time without speaking. I couldn’t speak either.

  Something inside me shifted. Rick hadn’t looked at me that way in years. My body started to tingle. His eyes burned through me. My heart was pounding so fast I felt faint. He wanted to kiss me but he was holding back.

  I knew it was wrong too, but I had been doing all the right things for far too long. Before he could talk himself out of it, I pressed my lips against his and closed my eyes. He exhaled cool mint as I slowly pulled back and looked into his eyes again. The way he was looking at me was too intense. I had to look away. My eyes fixed on a red sports car parked in the alley. He took my chin in his hand and gently turned my face back toward his.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  The words were a long drink of water after miles of desert. I couldn’t remember Rick ever calling me beautiful.

  “No, I’m not.”

  His eyes moved across my face taking in every feature. I turned away again. The letters and numbers on the license plate of the red car were blurry. I tried to make them out. I thought maybe I was dreaming.

  He turned me back toward him again and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand.

  “You’re right. You’re not beautiful. You’re… you’re… stunning.”

  I wondered if he could see the tiny lines under my eyes. I almost mentioned them but stopped myself. He parted my lips with his index finger and ran it slowly along my lower lip and then across the top.

  “You have the softest, sweetest lips.”

  He lifted his finger and slid it from in between my eyebrows down to the tip of my nose.

  “And that perfectly shaped nose.”

  I wanted to correct him and point out the little bump that was so prominent from a side view, the one Rick always teased me about. But I stayed silent.

  His eyes moved to meet mine.

  “And your eyes…. ” He shook his head as if to say there were no words to describe what he saw in my eyes.

  He ran his fingers along my neck and shoulder and then down my arm and I shivered.

  “You’re cold.”

  “No, it’s not… that’s not why I’m shaking.”

  A stabbing pain shot through my stomach. Excitement and terror at the same time. He leaned in slowly and put his arms around me, our faces almost touching. I tried to remember the last time Rick kissed me, but I couldn’t.

  With our mouths closed, we touched our lips together gently several times, pulling away briefly and then bringing them back together.

  With every kiss, a rush of emotion followed. Exhilaration. Guilt. Fear.

  “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll stop.”

  He looked at me with compassion and smiled. That dimple again.

  “Can I just give you a hug?”

  I felt safe in his arms. I nudged my face into his neck and it warmed my nose. That sweet apple smell again. I wanted to stay there forever. He twirled his fingers around the curls that fell along the back of my neck and my body melted into his.

  “I used to sit there watching you from my desk, fantasizing about what it would be like to run my fingers through those sexy curls.” My body relaxed into him even deeper as I thought about Rick saying my hair looked frizzy the day before.

  Almost as if my mouth were no longer connected to my brain, I found myself kissing his neck. His soft young skin stayed firmly in place as my kisses caused a slight moan to escape from his mouth. The powerful feeling of knowing I was capable of giving him pleasure was overwhelming.

  He pulled my face away from his neck and held it in his hands.

  “Just one more kiss.” My eyes must have said yes.

  He gripped my upper lip between his two lips, kissing it delicately, then moved down to focus on my lower lip. Time stood still.

  The guilt was still there, but the intensity of my physical desire was taking over, silencing the little voice that should have been telling me to stop. His tongue slowly entered my mouth. That clean, minty taste again. Our tongues circled each other slowly and the tingles running up and down my body created a strange numb yet fully alive sensation that I couldn’t remember ever experiencing before.

  The feeling was so intoxicating that I almost forgot who I was, what I believed in. The guilt and shame were part of the excitement and I suddenly understood all the people I had judged so harshly for having affairs. Our kissing became more aggressive, our tongues enveloping each other with an increasing urgency, circling, reaching. His stubble, rough but welcome, pressed hard
into the skin above my lip. I no longer felt compelled to pull away. We were glued together. He pressed his body against mine forcefully and I felt his erection. A wave of tremors shot through me. He pushed me up against the wall as he leaned into me harder. Our bodies moved together in a rhythmic pattern. I was overcome with desire. I wanted more. I started thinking about where we could go to be alone. I recalled a hotel I had seen nearby. I pulled away from him and we both tried to catch our breath. The hungry look in his eyes told me he was thinking the same thing.

  “Do you wanna go to my car?”

  Holy shit. His car? His age, which had somehow escaped my thoughts for a while, became apparent again. That’s when Sam’s face popped into my mind, then Jack’s. A sudden throbbing in my breasts startled me. Little droplets of milk were escaping, as if to remind me of something I had forgotten. I saw myself alone in a tiny apartment, staring from the grimy window as Jack and Sam drove off with Rick and his new wife.

  “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

  “No don’t go yet.”

  “I just… I can’t do this. I’m not this kind of person. I can’t believe I allowed myself to… ” He looked at me with what felt like pity.

  “You’re just human. Beth, my beautiful Beth, you’re an amazing woman. Please don’t feel… ”

  “It’s just… the way you looked at me…. and the way you listened and… touched me… I haven’t felt… I mean… It’s been so long since... Dave, you made me feel so good about myself, thank you.”

  “I wasn’t trying to make you feel good about yourself. I meant everything I said. I want to see you again.”

  “No, there’s no way. Goodbye.” I started to walk back toward the bar.

  “Come back next Friday, any Friday. I’ll be here. I know you want to see me again Beth.”

  My body shuddered. I wanted to go back for just one more kiss but I knew I couldn’t trust myself to stop there.

  Chapter 8

  I staggered through the door, wishing I didn’t have to go back into all that noise. But I had to find Shelly. I searched the dance floor, the bar area and the bathroom. No sign of her. The sparkling disco balls forced me stop and close my eyes right in the middle of the crowd. I worried that people would think I was crazy, but when I opened my eyes, it was clear that no one had even noticed me. I retraced my steps, thinking I would find Shelly soon. I finally gave up and pushed my way through the mob and out the front door.

  I stumbled down the street, having no clue where I was headed. A mannequin in a storefront window was naked from the waist up. She was me, exposed and ashamed. I could see it even in her dead blue eyes. She wanted me to smash through the glass and cover her up, then maybe to set her free. Or maybe not. Maybe she was comfortable being invisible to the world, holding that familiar spot on her little stage, staring at the “25% Off Everything in Store” sign day after wretched day.

  I was afraid to glance at my watch, but I had to. It was 1:12. I turned a corner, sat down on the curb of a quiet street, dropped my face into my hands and cried. When the lone crinkled tissue I had fished out of the bottom of my purse disintegrated, I used my sleeves to wipe the steady stream of snot and tears.

  Eventually I started to think about making my way home. My car wasn’t too far away but I couldn’t drive home in the condition I was in. I found a coffee shop and called a taxi. It would be a forty-five minute wait, the dispatcher told me. The smell of bacon and hash browns assaulted my nose and my stomach growled in anger. But nausea won the war against hunger. “Just water, please,” I told the heavy-set fiftyish waitress with fuchsia lipstick and box-bleached hair pulled into a tight bun. I dialed Shelly’s cell phone and her voicemail picked up. I left a message saying I was sorry we lost track of each other and that I was heading home.

  I fell into a light sleep until the chill of the cold wind hit me. I wondered why the cab driver had decided to roll all the windows down. Then a gust of air brushed past my face and I could smell the stench of alcohol seeping from my pores. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my chest.

  As the cab slowly drove away, I slid the key into the lock with unsteady fingers. I peeked into Sam’s room first, silently apologizing. In a way, it felt as if I had betrayed him the most. I imposed the most stringent standards of honesty and ethical behavior on this little man in a seven-year-old body and he worked hard to live up to my expectations. What would he make of the selfish choice I had made?

  Still dizzy, I made my way to the bathroom and took a long scorching shower to wash off the smell of guilt. Then I brushed my teeth and gums so hard the bright red blood continued to stream down the white porcelain sink after several rinses. In the master bedroom, Rick and Jack were sound asleep, facing opposite directions. I slipped into my sweats and tee shirt and cuddled up to Jack. He stirred as I kissed his soft cheek, which smelled like corn. I caressed his tiny hand as I went over and over every minute of the evening.

  Thankfully, I didn’t wake Rick, or if I did, he pretended not to be disturbed by my return. Sleep evaded me for hours. My mind jumped back and forth between thinking about how I could make things better with Rick to plotting ways to get out of the house to see Dave again the next Friday. The last time I looked at the clock it was 4:48 a.m. Then suddenly it was 10:00 a.m. and the phone was ringing.

  I sat upright in bed, confused and queasy, the phone a screaming fire alarm battering my aching head. And the rest of the house was too quiet. I saw a note sitting on the bedtable.

  “Good morning sleepy head. We’re off to IHOP and then the park. Call us when you wake up. P.S. Where’s your car?”

  My paralysis finally ended and I rolled over to stop the ringing.

  “Hello?” I sounded as if I had just smoked a pack of cigarettes.

  “Beth?”

  I looked down at my tee shirt, to the two silver dollar sized rings of milk that had leaked while I slept. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I nursed Jack.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m just tired. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

  “Oh, well I wanted to remind you to pack up a… ”

  A sudden rolling tide was swelling in my stomach and moving upward. The phone fell from my hand as I ran for the bathroom, barely making it in time. After several rounds of violent vomiting, I brushed my teeth and crawled back into bed. I must have been lying there for ten minutes before I remembered my mother. I got up and searched for the phone. My throat was on fire.

  “Mom?” No answer. I dialed. My mother and father’s cheery voices in unison: “Hi, you’ve reached Steve and Kathryn. Please leave a message and we’ll get back to you.” The words we’ll get back to you swirled around in my head. I imagined them huddled together holding an old rotary phone with a short cord up to both their ears. I didn’t have the stomach to leave a message.

  I got back into bed, pulled the covers all the way up to my nose and drifted off again. Fifteen minutes later someone was pounding at the front door. Holding on to walls and furniture to steady myself during the journey, I headed to greet the unwelcome visitor. I peered out the peephole and saw my mother. I sighed and let her in. She looked thin as ever in her powder blue velour jogging suit.

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  “You don’t seem fine.”

  “I was out with Shelly last night. I just had a little too much to drink.”

  “That’s why you look so awful.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Lie down on the couch and I’ll make you some tea.” She started toward the kitchen.

  “No, I don’t want tea. I can’t keep anything down. Maybe just some ice.”

  “Where are Rick and the boys?”

  “At the park. They’ll probably be back soon.”

  She handed me a cup and sat down next to me on the couch. I carefully lowered one small piece of crushed ice onto my tongue and let it melt. I curled into a fetal positio
n and she stroked my hair. I didn’t want her to stop. “Mom?”

  “Yeah, B?”

  “How old was I when Dad had the first affair?” Her hand stopped mid-stroke.

  “Why would you ask about that?”

  “I just wanna know.”

  “Do you think Rick is having an affair?”

  “No.”

  “Your poor father would be heartbroken if he knew even half the things I’ve told you.”

  “You didn’t call him my ‘poor father’ back then. You… uhhh.” I massaged my temples with my fingertips. She returned to the kitchen, went straight to the correct cabinet and came back with two Advil. I gave her my cup of ice and without saying a word she filled it with water and handed it back to me. The little amber pills felt so much larger than they were as they made their bumpy way down my throat, still raw from stomach acid.

  “So are you going to tell me?”

  “That was a long time ago, Beth, before we realized how much we needed each other. Whatever happened then, it’s not worth thinking about now.”

  I sat up and looked at her, my head spinning in figure eights.

  “Fine, Mom, I understand. You drop these bombshells on me when you feel like venting and I’m not allowed to bring them up again. I’m just supposed to forget about the things I know. Well, I can’t forget. He’s my father.”

  I waited for her to say something, hating myself for playing the bitter, ungrateful daughter yet again while she maintained her role as verbally abused mother. She eased me down beside her and rubbed my back, just the way she did when I was little. I wanted to pull away but I needed the comfort. The waves of nausea returned. I rocked back and forth with my arms wrapped around my stomach, snuggling into her warm body.

  “Why don’t I get you some Alka Seltzer?” she asked softly.

  “I’d rather get an answer to my question.”