by R. K. Ryals
Backing into the house, he opened the door wider. “How did you get here?”
“I brought the van,” I answered, ducking through the door. “It’s parked near the road.”
Running a hand through his hair, he flicked on a lamp, and studied me. I didn’t look any different than I had a few hours before, except for my bra—I’d gotten rid of that when I went to my room. A minute detail I noticed Eli didn’t miss.
My eyes roamed his figure, his muscled arms, six pack abs, and the V leading down into his low slung jeans.
“Do I even have to ask why you’re here?” His voice was low, drugged by sleep and growing desire.
The nerves haunting me at the door plagued my confidence, but I managed to meet his gaze, my speech level and unshaking when I said, “Those condoms you don’t bring to the gym … I’m hoping you keep them here.”
Eli laughed, one hand sliding into his blue jeans pocket, pulling the denim lower, revealing more of the V. “You really know how to surprise a guy, you know that? When we dropped you off earlier, I certainly didn’t see you coming here.”
“Should I leave?”
His gaze found mine, searching my face, noting the way my breath hitched, my ragged breathing belying my confident words.
Remembering what he’d said about churches and clear heads the night I straddled him in the orchard, I swallowed hard and promised, “It’s just me. No baggage.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re not trying to forget anything? Not trying to escape,” his gaze fell to my covered thighs, “things?”
“No.”
The word came easily. His belief in it didn’t.
“Tansy—”
“Look, forget it.” I rushed to leave. “I’m just going to go.”
I’d twisted the knob and cracked the door when his hand suddenly slammed into the wood above my head, forcing it closed, his body pressing against my back.
“Fuck it,” he hissed against my ear, his breath running along my skin.
I shivered, heat surging through my veins.
He kissed my neck, his free hand falling to my stomach, his fingers sneaking under my shirt to graze the flesh beneath.
I gasped, my heart slamming against my ribcage so fast I didn’t feel human anymore. I was weightless.
“Tell me what you want, roof girl,” he whispered.
His hand hovered, gliding up over my breasts before falling to the hem of my shorts, teasing the elastic band.
“To fall,” I answered, swallowing. “I want to fall.”
This was the intense part, the piece of me Jeff hadn’t liked. Because when I had sex, I wanted to disappear inside the sensations, to get lost in them, for the passion to be so much that it hurt. If I spoke during the act, it was always something unexpected.
Eli’s hand dipped into my shorts and brushed aside my panties, touching me. I groaned, the sound louder than I intended.
He chuckled. “Let’s fall, then,” he said, surprising me.
My head rose, my chin tilting up, my gaze meeting his in the dim light, my eyes vulnerable and open.
Eli’s face sobered, his fingers growing bolder, my breath growing more erratic each time he flicked my clitoris. “Just don’t expect the fall to be easy,” he murmured. “When you land, you’re going to feel every bit of it.”
His words, and his fingers, were magic, stroking me, teasing me, bringing me to the edge.
“Fall,” he commanded.
His body rocked against mine, his breathing labored, which turned me on more because knowing I turned him on sent answering shudders through me.
I fell, sensations shattering my frame as I came. My legs went weak, my body riding the pleasure waves.
Pulling his hand free of my shorts, Eli gripped my hip, holding himself very still, his breathless words full of amusement when he murmured, “And I haven’t even put the condom on yet.”
Turning in his embrace, I gazed up at him. “You should fix that.”
Whatever nerves I’d been feeling were lost to burning lust, the high it gave me all-consuming.
Eli’s eyes darkened, his arms circling me, lifting me into his embrace
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I let him carry me.
His room was dark when we entered it, and I felt weightless, like I was flying through a void, losing my balance only to land on a cloud.
Hands tore away my clothes, dropping them into the abyss. His lips and tongue powered over my skin—warm and hot against my neck, my breasts, my stomach, and lower still. Claiming me. Burning me.
I cried into the dark, filling it with loud whispers, moans, and begging. Sweet begging.
Cool air brushed flesh as he drew away.
Clothes rustled, a drawer opened, and a packet ripped, and then there was warmth again, his hot skin rubbing against mine.
I stroked him, condom and all, heard him hiss, and smiled.
Rising off of the bed, I clung to his neck, and whispered, “Take me.”
He was a large man, and the fit was tight when he entered, uncomfortable at first. Strangely, I reveled in the discomfort because it was part of him, of us. This moment. It made it real.
Muscles bunched, our bodies moving together, straining. He reached between us, touching me, making sure I came around him.
With my orgasm, he lost control, pumping against me, pounding flesh against flesh. Desperate. There was so much desperation between us. Thrust after thrust until his body stiffened. Teeth clenched, he muttered, “Fuck.”
Our hearts hammered so hard and fast that it was hard to tell which heart belonged to who. Sweat made the cuts on my thighs sting, but the burn kept me rooted.
When it was over, neither one of us moved, as if somehow that would break the spell.
I didn’t want the spell broken. I just wanted to lay here, him inside of me, and forget that this summer had started out with my father’s death, Deena’s anger, and Jet’s absence, and that when all was said and done, Eli wouldn’t be leaving. Going off to Michigan, away from the girl he’d met on top of a hospital roof.
Unexpected tears dropped from my eyes. They were silent tears, the kind that slid from the corners to weave their way over flesh without anyone ever being the wiser.
Eli wasn’t anyone.
The darkness wasn’t as dark anymore, our eyes having adjusted, and a black and white photograph version of Eli stared down at me, his body slipping from mine.
Falling next to me, he touched my cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears.
“You still here, Tansy?” he asked.
To anyone else that question would have been weird.
My head fell to the side, my gaze on his. “I didn’t fall,” I told him because it needed to be said. Because, for the first time since losing my mother and dealing with all of the blackness afterwards, I’d kept myself in the moment. With him. Consequences be damned. “I flew,” I whispered.
His lips curled, his smile slow and patient. “That’s good, roof girl.”
Pulling me into him, we lay in the darkness, the scent of sex, toothpaste, and soap hovering in the air.
All of the tension I’d felt since meeting Eli on the roof was gone. Well, not gone, but definitely not as taut, as if the attraction between us had been so strong that …
“There may be more clarity now,” I said out loud, finishing my thought.
Eli chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath my ear. “You keep doing that, don’t you? This idea you have that everything between us is just sexual tension. We’ll see. You could be right. Or,” he lifted my chin, “you could be wrong. I’m betting on wrong, and when you figure that out, I’m cashing in on it. By having you blow me.”
His teasing made me laugh, and I elbowed him. Hard. “You have such skewed priorities.”
“Jesus, woman! Blow jobs are priorities.”
Amusement rippled through us, and we settled back into a comfortable silence.
I was the one who broke it. “I’ve got to go.”
Getting up, Eli switched on the light, blinding me, before bending to pick up his pants. As he slid his jeans on, I watched him.
His gaze rose, sliding over the bed and over my figure, but I didn’t blush. The appreciation in his eyes made me feel bigger than what I was. Curvier. Sexier. Despite knowing I was naturally a slight woman—not willowy or curvy, just slight.
Eli handed me my shirt, and I tugged it over my head before standing to step into my panties and shorts.
“I’ll walk you,” he offered. “I need a cigarette anyway.”
Opening a drawer next to the bed, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tucked a lighter into his pocket, and then stepped back so that I could precede him out of the room.
His shirtless figure was a comfortable presence behind me, large and overpowering in the darkness.
A lighter glared, and smoke curled into the sky.
Gravel crunching. Frogs warbling. Crickets singing. Fireflies pricking the darkness. Wind whistling through the trees. That was our only conversation.
We were at the van, his arms caging me into the driver’s side when he said, “The sex was great, roof girl.”
I smiled because that was the kind of guy Eli was. He told it like it was, even if whatever he said made you uncomfortable.
The moon and stars saw everything.
Placing a quick kiss on my lips, he closed the door.
I rolled the window down.
“Be careful,” he told me.
When I drove away, I glanced into the rearview mirror and watched him grow smaller and smaller, his cigarette flaring, the moon breathing down on him.
No matter what happened this summer, that shrinking picture of him would live with me forever.
As I neared my grandmother’s, I switched off the headlights and coasted into the yard, cutting the engine.
The house was dark when I entered it, which is why I didn’t notice her at first.
“When you get everything situated and find a job, I’ll help you move.”
I jumped, heart pounding when my grandmother’s voice cut through the room, low and tired.
My body went numb.
Eyes widening, I whirled to find her sitting on the living room couch, watching me.
“Nana—”
“I’m not going to say anything, Tansy. Actually, I think I blame myself. Partly. Not doing enough to find out what happened to you after your mother’s death, not sitting down to talk to you once you were here, and not watching you more closely. I think I thought giving you space was the best way for you to heal. As for Eli and his family … I don’t know how to feel about them. How to feel about what I’m pretty sure you left to do tonight.”
“Nana—”
She stood. “I want to help you, I do, but I also needed you to respect this house and me.”
“How?” I asked, suddenly angry. “How am I supposed to respect you? When you had nothing to do with us until you were forced to?”
She flinched like I had slapped her, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I don’t know what I hate more … myself or the loss of your innocence.”
“That’s been gone,” I whispered.
She paled. “Tansy—”
“It’s fine!” I snapped.
“He can’t keep working here,” she said suddenly. “I’ll talk to his grandfather. See about having his community service changed to somewhere else.”
I stared at her. “You can’t be serious! How do you even know I was over there?”
“Tell me you weren’t,” she countered.
The denial got stuck in my throat.
She exhaled, loud and heavy. “I’m not making a big deal out of this. You can still finish your work at the orchard and then start looking for other employment, college, and housing. But him here … that’s asking a lot of me, Tansy. I’m supposed to take care of you.”
“He’s not hurting me!” I said, my voice rising. “If anything, he’s the reason I’m doing better!”
“The cutting?”
“Has nothing to do with him!” I was panicking, could feel it choking me. “Nana, please!”
She softened but didn’t cave. “I’m not stopping you from seeing him. I’m not pulling Deena from the boxing program. I’m just not having him work here, and you’re not taking the van anymore. Last I heard, your dad’s Buick was towed from the hospital. It’s a piece of junk, but it’s paid off. If you want to take your part of your dad’s life insurance, you can go get it. I’m not trying to be tough, Tansy. But if you want to be on your own so bad, if you want the chance to prove yourself, then this is it.”
Rampaging thoughts ran through my head. My dad’s life insurance policy had been miniscule, just enough to cover his funeral expenses and leave a couple thousand to each of his children.
“I’ll take the Buick,” I whispered.
Nana smiled, the gesture tight. “Somehow, I thought you’d say that. I can’t decide if I’m proud of you or scared because you’ve grown up too fast.”
“Don’t be proud,” I said, surprising us both. “I haven’t earned that yet.”
Oh, but I would.
Death was a cruel teacher. It didn’t look at age. It only looked at capability.
It didn’t look at the issues you had. It only looked at how well you could survive them.
FORTY-FOUR
Eli
The night was heaven. Completely unexpected. Out of nowhere. Heaven.
Plain and simple.
Which should have been clue enough. A trip to heaven almost always guaranteed a fall from grace.
The sun rose, I got out of bed, and I fell straight to hell.
The attack came with no warning. One moment, I was sitting on the side of the bed, a smile playing on my lips, the next, my eyes were glued to a slammed open door, my grandfather’s angry face glaring down at me.
“Can I have a cigarette first?” I asked wearily. Because no matter why he stood there, I knew it wasn’t good.
“You’re no longer working at the rescue.” That was all he said.
His words sank into my sleep-fogged brain, and I inhaled sharply. “What the fuck?”
I hadn’t messed anything up on the job, which meant that …
“Shit,” I swore.
“Is that what they call it now?” Pops asked.
Resting my elbows on my knees, I dropped my head into my hands. “Is she okay?”
I didn’t give a damn how much trouble I was in or what this meant for me. All I cared about was what this meant for Tansy.
Pops sighed. “She’s going to Atlanta today with Hetty. To pick up her dad’s car. It’s in impound there.”
That didn’t sound so bad.
“She’s looking into places to go.”
My back stiffened, my head shooting up. “She got kicked out?”
“Once she has a steady job and a place to live, yes.”
I stood, my blood boiling. “What kind of shit is that?”
“You’ll pick up extra hours at the boxing club, and do some volunteer construction work for charity to make up your hours.”
“She could stay here,” I suggested.
We were ignoring each other.
“She could stay here,” I repeated loudly.
“And make things worse?” Pops asked. “Why, Eli?” He studied me, and then leaned against the door. “I think it was a good thing making you come here this summer. As parents, we question everything. Did you know that? You might not like what we decide, but we’re not all public enemy number one. Do we make mistakes? Hell, yes. Do we screw it up? All of the time. Life isn’t easy. It’s about knowing when it’s the right time for something and making it happen.”
“What does that have to do with Tansy?”
“It doesn’t. It has everything to do with you. Do you care about her, Eli? Are you at a place now where you could honestly enter a relationship? One where you don’t constantly question yourself and her.”
My butt hit the bed, my hand pilla
ging a path through my hair. “Are you saying I need to back off?”
“I’m asking if you’re ready to commit to something. Because, up until now, the only thing you’ve felt toward the women you’ve been involved with is animosity.”
I thought about Tansy.
The moment she popped onto the hospital roof, the rising sun cloaking her in gold. Her beseeching eyes when her grandmother’s van passed Jonathan’s car coming out of Atlanta. The way she fell apart in the orchard while still holding herself together. The cuts on her skin. The way she looked when she was gardening, like her soul was hiding in the soil and she needed to make it grow. The way she looked at life while running away from it. The way she hit me when she really let herself go, with so much turmoil I knew her heart was in the gloves, breaking. The way she cared about people, often so much so that she gave up pieces of herself for them. The way she made love, like her life depended on it.
“I don’t hate Tansy. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“That’s a start.” Pops straightened, releasing a breath as he pushed his hands into his pockets. “Don’t interfere in her life right now. She’s invited you into it, but she hasn’t given you permission to run it. To choose for her. That’s up to her, and she needs to find the strength to do it. You’ve lived inside your anger and your thoughts for too long, Eli, and this summer, I’ve watched you begin to let that stuff go. It’s been good for you. Hetty’s decisions may not make sense to you, but the way Tansy responds to them will say a lot about her.”
I peered up at him. “I hate you sometimes, you know that? I hate that you say things that make sense when I don’t want them to.”
“I hate it, too,” he replied, surprising me.
“What? I was teasing, Pops.”
He gave me a soft smile. “I wasn’t. It took screwing up as a parent the first time to learn what I have now.” His face fell. “Wisdom often comes from hard places. It comes with a price.”
“Mom isn’t your fault.”
“No,” he agreed, “but protecting her from her mistakes was.”
For a long time, we stared at each other. A man hardened by war, by the loss of his wife, and his daughter’s fight against mental illness. A younger version of the same man hardened by abuse and distrust.