Now & Forever 3 - Blind love

by Joachim, Jean C.

  “What do you mean, exactly?” Callie looked up at him.

  “Do I have to spell it out for a smart girl like you? Didn’t you seduce him from the beginning?”

  “Well, maybe, sort of. At least I got him interested.”

  “He says he couldn’t resist you.”

  “He told you?”

  “He said you turned on the heat and he melted like a candle in the sun,” Sam said, hiding a smile behind his hand.

  Callie smiled.

  “You did it before; do it again.”

  “I don’t know, Dad. Tonight is different,” Callie said, drying her eyes.

  “Mac loves you, Callie. He’s given you power. Use his love to soften him up a little. Turn on the heat and melt him, like…”

  “…a candle in the sun,” she said, finishing his sentence.

  “I know you can do it. You’re a strong, resourceful lady, Callie. Go get him,” Sam said, finishing his glass of milk.

  Callie kissed Sam on the cheek and gave him a big hug.

  “Thanks, Dad. I feel better. I’m going back to give it another try.”

  “My money is on you,” Sam said with a chuckle.

  Callie smiled and went back upstairs.

  She opened the door softly, but could see Mac was still awake, because he stiffened when she came in the room. She knew then he was worried she wasn’t coming back or sleeping in their bed. Sam was right, she could break his angry spell.

  She got into bed.

  “Mac, I know you’re awake.”

  He didn’t answer her.

  “Okay, you don’t want to make love. Fine. We don’t have to make love. But my mother always told me not to go to bed mad, without a goodnight kiss. So you have to let me kiss you goodnight. Okay?”

  “She wasn’t my mother.” Mac sniffed.

  “Too bad. Those are our family rules.”

  “Since when?” he countered.

  “Since now. You have to let me kiss you goodnight,” she said, sidling up to him.

  “Okay. But only one kiss. That’s all.”

  Then she knew she had him.

  “Okay. One kiss.” She said as she got closer to him.

  “Wait, you’re naked. That means you want to make love.”

  “What do you mean?” Callie rolled over on her side, facing him.

  “You always come to bed naked when you want to make love.” He half-turned his head to speak to her.

  “So? So maybe I do want to make love, but you don’t. I don’t have to put my nightgown on because you don’t want to make love, do I? I can sleep naked if I want to,” she said, inching closer.

  “You’re getting pretty close to me with your naked body,” Mac said, his tone softening.

  “I can’t kiss you from across the room, can I?” Callie replied.

  She inched closer, bending over him, lowering herself over him very slowly. The first points of contact were her breasts on his chest. Callie felt her nipples harden.

  “No fair. Are you trying to seduce me?” Sweat beaded on his forehead.

  “What?” she said, feigning innocence.

  “Your breasts are touching me,” he said, his hands moving toward her, almost automatically.

  “I can’t lean over you without my breasts touching you, can I? You’ve never complained before.”

  “Before was different. I thought this was going to be a quick peck on the cheek,” he said.

  “I didn’t say a quick peck, I said a kiss. A kiss is a kiss, I’ll decide what kind of kiss and a peck on the cheek doesn’t do it for me,” she said, lowering her body, her lips closer to his. She gently brushed her lips over his.

  “That’s it. That’s the kiss. Now you can back off,” he said, conviction fading from his voice.

  “Why? Am I disturbing you?”

  “You certainly are,” he admitted.

  “Good. I was just warming up.”

  “What? You can’t be serious!”

  “I can and I am,” she said, sensing his self-control was cracking.

  “Let’s get this over with, Callie. You’re taking too long, tantalizing me like this,” Mac said, attempting to turn away from her. She put her hand on his arm.

  “But you don’t want to make love. You said so. Several times. So why should you worry? Is your resolve dissolving?”

  “I’m tired and I want to go to sleep.”

  “Oh, so I’m keeping you awake now?” she asked, suddenly hurt, her eyes filling with tears, her determination weakening.

  Then before she gave up, she heard Sam’s words, “melt him like a candle in the sun,” in her head and she lowered herself quickly, placing her mouth over Mac’s, parting his lips and exploring his mouth with her tongue, crushing her breasts against his chest, moving her body over his and losing her fingers in his hair. She gave him the longest most passionate kiss of his life. Callie pressed her hips gently into his as she felt his body respond. He wound his arms around her and his hands stroked her back and hips.

  When she finally came up for air, Mac rolled her over until he was on top of her, kissing her then burying his face in her neck.

  “I’m sorry, Callie, so sorry. I shouldn’t be blaming you. You didn’t cause that man to blackmail us. I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it.”

  Callie burst into tears, turning her head away from him and burying her face in the pillow to muffle the sound. Mac pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair.

  “I don’t know what came over me,” he said in a soft tone.

  “You’re worried about Jason.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  “I am. But it’s not a reason to make you cry.” He wiped the last tears off with his thumb.

  “Do you honestly think I manipulate you with tears?” she asked him.

  “I know you can’t help it. It’s not your fault, you’re a crier. I said it to hurt you and I take it all back. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  “Do you forgive me for telling Peter?” she asked in a shaky voice.

  “I do,” he said, kissing her and holding her close.

  “I thought our marriage was over. I thought you didn’t love me anymore,” she said, drying her tears and feeling safe again in his embrace.

  “Never. I’ll always love you, Callie, no matter what.”

  “That’s what your father said.”

  “You spoke to my father?” Mac asked, holding her at arm’s length.

  “He was getting a glass of milk. He was kind and gave me good advice.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Don’t start, Mac. He’s your father, I should be able to confide in him and get advice when I need it, especially about his beloved son.”

  “I suppose it’s okay. Don’t reveal anything about our sex life, okay?”

  “Too late.” Callie chewed her lip.

  “What did you say?” he asked, wide-eyed.

  “Not much. Nothing important…only you’ve never turned me down before…and a few other things,” Callie admitted.

  “Wonderful.”

  “I needed his help and he couldn’t help me without some information. I didn’t tell him anything specific about you in bed or anything. I think he was kind of proud of you, when I told him you always want to make love.”

  “You told him that?”

  “So what? It’s true. Aren’t most guys like that?”

  “Not most, maybe only the superior guys, with a strong sex drive, like me,” he joked, kissing her neck.

  “Mac Caldwell—sometimes you drive me crazy.” Callie moved her hair to the side.

  “Is your offer to make love still open?” he whispered, moving his hands down to her breasts.

  “Now and forever,” she said kissing him, winding her leg around his waist.

  With a house full of people, Mac and Callie tried to be quiet, but making some noise when they made love was inevitable.

  * * * *

  Sam was sitting on the
sofa in the darkened, silent living room, a little worried about Callie when some giggles and cries drifted softly down the stairs. He smiled and sat back.

  “Like a candle in the sun…Mac’s a lucky man,” he said aloud before he returned to his bed.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was cool for September, a stiff breeze blew over the lawn of the hospital across town from the University. Marcia buttoned up her trench coat as she walked down the hospital steps and got into her car.

  On the drive home from the hospital, Marcia wondered what type of food she’d find waiting for her. Sometimes Johnny’s American wife, Rebecca, cooked, sometimes Jakub, and there was always food left over. Rebecca never asked Jakub where he was taking the food and he didn’t volunteer the information.

  Once home, she went directly into the kitchen where she spied the small care package of food on the counter. Jakub had been there. Marcia opened the package and put the aromatic, Eastern European food on a plate and into the microwave. His food helped her regain some of her strength. She needed to be strong for Jay, who was obviously failing now. Although Marcia couldn’t see it from day to day, his mother, Ruth, noticed at her weekly visits. She clung to Marcia even though she hadn’t approved of Jay’s marriage to her. Mrs. Wilton and Marcia had been barely cordial, but Marcia had compassion for the older woman who was facing the loss of her only son.

  As Marcia finished eating, Jakub knocked on the door. She let him in.

  “Tea?” she asked.

  He smiled and nodded.

  “You’re a good cook.” Marcia turned on the flame under the kettle.

  “I cooked for my wife.”

  She made tea for them and put a pastry she bought at the Jewish bakery on a plate in front of Jakub as he sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Your husband?” Jakub asked.

  “He’s sick. He’s very sick. Cancer.” Marcia said, tears forming in her eyes.

  Jakub patted her hand.

  “Your wife?”

  “She died—cancer—now two years. I cooked for Veronika, the last year.” He looked down at his plate.

  “I’m sorry. Veronika, pretty name,” Marcia said, patting his hand.

  “I called her Nika. My plum dumpling was her favorite.”

  “How long were you married?”

  “Twenty-six.” Jakub held up first twenty then six fingers.

  “Children…I mean besides Johnny?”

  “Two.”

  “You live here?”

  “Had a house but after Nika…I move over Johnny’s garage. We fix up apartment there. Very nice.”

  “You fix up this house too?”

  He nodded.

  “Very nice.” Marcia smiled at him.

  “Thank you. How long you marry?”

  “Eleven years.”

  “Children?”

  She shook her head. Jakub put his hand on hers and squeezed.

  When they finished, they went into the living room and Marcia turned the Mets game on the television.

  “Never the Yankees?”

  “Maybe next time, Jakub,” she said, smiling.

  At ten o’clock she went up to bed while Jakub turned out the lights and went home to his silent apartment.

  * * * *

  In the dean’s office at the university

  The phone rang. Mac tensed when he recognized the voice of his blackmailer.

  “Mr. Carlson, I need more time,” Mac said.

  “Did you talk to your wife?”

  “She agreed we should pay you. But we need to liquidate some things to get the cash which takes about three or four days,” Mac said.

  “I guess this being such a surprise and all, I understand you need a few more days. But four days from today, I’m going to instruct my lawyer to file papers. And I will be doing a paternity test, so be prepared, Mr. Caldwell.”

  “I will. Thank you for understanding,” Mac said, gritting his teeth. He slammed the phone down and muttered out loud, “I’ll pay you when hell freezes over.”

  * * * *

  Callie called Peter. Although he didn’t remember much about that night he did recall mentioning Jason to the busty brunette. Callie needed to make things right. She dropped the kids off with Sam and drove to The Wet Tee Shirt at four thirty in the afternoon.

  The bar was dark and empty when she walked in. She could hardly see two feet in front of her and started when a man came out of the shadows. He sidled up to her as she stood nervously by the bar, tapping her foot and not knowing what to do.

  “Looking for a job, little lady?” the man asked, his eyes traveling her length.

  She shook her head, watching his gaze stop at her chest.

  “Then what can I do for you?”

  “First, you can stop looking at me like that,” Callie said, stilling her foot.

  “Like what? I thought all pretty girls liked to be admired.”

  “Admired, yes. Leered at, no. I’m here to see Deena.” Callie rested a hand on her hip.

  “Deena? What for?”

  “A private conversation,” Callie said, facing him, staring into his eyes, exhibiting more courage than she felt.

  “About what?”

  “If I told you, it wouldn’t be private, would it?” she snapped.

  “Ow…and she bites too. I like my women feisty.” He faced her with a cold-eyed stare.

  “But I’m not your woman. Deena, please?”

  He pointed to the dressing room in the back. Callie gave him a curt nod and moved to the door. She knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Callie took a deep breath, put her hand in her pocket to still its tremble and walked in. She had never come face-to-face with a woman Mac had slept with before. Her hand continued to shake slightly when she opened the door and walked in. Deena turned around to look at her.

  Deena’s hair was dyed very dark brown and hung down to her shoulders. Her eyes were brown and her chest size was larger than Callie’s. The dancer was five foot six, five pounds overweight with long legs. Her face was pretty but worn, tired looking with lines around her eyes she was too young to have. She looked older than Callie expected. She eyed Callie, her gaze traveling up then down the young woman’s body.

  “If you’re looking for a job, we don’t need any dancers right now,” Deena said and turned her attention back to applying eyeliner.

  “I’m not looking for a job,” Callie said. “I’m looking for you.”

  “Me? What for?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “I want to talk to you for a minute.”

  “What about?” She swiveled around in her chair to face Callie.

  “About my husband, Mac Caldwell, and my son, Jason.”

  “So you’re Mac’s pretty little bride, eh?” she snorted, a derisive smirk on her face.

  A sound at the door captured Callie’s attention. She saw a shadow move closer to the open door.

  “He’s some catch. You’re a lucky girl,” Deena said, putting the top back on the eyeliner and returning it to her dressing table, never taking her eyes off Callie.

  “I am,” Callie said.

  “Mac and I were together a long time ago. Nothing for you to worry about,” Deena said, picking up her mascara.

  “Mac’s brother, told me he told you Jason, our son, wasn’t Mac’s biological son. Who did you tell?”

  “He told you that? He’s lying,” Deena said, keeping her gaze on the mirror.

  “Lying? Peter? I don’t think so.”

  “Hmmmm, Peter. Let me see. Cute blond guy, right?”

  Callie nodded.

  “He was pretty drunk. Maybe he was talking to Rita, the other dancer,” Deena said, putting down the mascara, and picking up a tube of red lipstick, applying it thickly to her lips while she watched Callie in the mirror.

  Callie took a picture of Jason out of her purse and held it up.

  “Please look at this,” she said, stepping closer and shoving the picture in front of Deena. “This is the little bo
y you’ll hurt if you go ahead with this blackmail plan.”

  Deena glanced at the picture and her eyes flashed with anger.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never talked to Mac’s brother. I don’t know anything about blackmail. And as for this kid, I could care less. Aren’t you the self-righteous little wife and mother. Some nerve, coming in here and accusing me of blackmail! Go home and screw your husband. Leave me alone,” Deena spat at Callie.

  “I thought you’d have more humanity…”

  “Yeah? Hey, you know Mac’s favorite position? He used to beg me for it all the time.” Deena’s eyes narrowed, a vicious gleam appeared.

  “Mac doesn’t have to beg me in the bedroom. He gets what he wants, when he wants it!” Callie shot back, tossing her hair. She turned her back on Deena and sashayed out.

  Humiliation swept over her as she walked to the car without the information she came to get. She underestimated the callousness of the dancer. What could Mac have seen in her? She smacked her forehead. He’s a man, isn’t he? Callie chewed her lip as she turned the key in the ignition. She was out of ideas.

  * * * *

  The next day, after a quick conversation with Peter, Mac put the pieces together. He climbed into his car, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, loosened his tie then started the engine. He headed for The Wet Tee Shirt.

  He walked in and stopped for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He spied Deena sitting at a table near the stage. She looked up and her eyes locked with Mac’s. Mac felt anger rise up in his throat; he hated her for trying to destroy his family but he stuffed the feeling down before it reached his eyes. He couldn’t let his anger show. He needed to be in control, cajole her…be friendly…charming, no matter how much it killed him to sweet talk someone he despised.

  “Hi, Deena. How you been? Can I buy you a drink?” he said.

  She smiled up at him. A look of lust flashed across her face as she looked him over. Then she pulled the corners of her mouth down, knitted her brows and her look turned sour.

  “Sure, Mac. Been a long time. What are you doing here?” She motioned to the bartender.