Experiment In Love

by Clay Estrada, Rita

  Her mother spoke with her eyes still closed, her frail body holding tightly to her daughter’s hand. “I thought I was a free spirit, no ties, no lasting commitments, because those would demand something from me in return. I didn’t see that by my own selfishness I was tying your father to a life that he wasn’t allowed to take pride in. I thought that was his problem, not mine.”

  “He could have said no at any time, Mother.”

  “No, he couldn’t. By the time he realized what had happened to us he was too in love to reason out a sensible answer. Love and youth does strange things, dear. It makes you do things you would never dream of doing otherwise, say things that hurt when you want to soothe, dream of a way of life that just isn’t realistic. I did that to your father, and to you and your brother. And all so I could have my freedom.”

  “And do you?”

  “No. You can’t have both freedom and a real, lasting love.” Visibly tired, she leaned her head back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling for a few moments, her hand tightening in Victoria’s every so often. The room was filled with a poignant silence. Tears formed and rolled down Victoria’s cheeks at the painful sadness of it all. “Never to fully love and share that love is too high a price to pay for freedom, Victoria. Much too high.”

  They talked, finally talked without the wrappings of pretence for over an hour. It was a conversation they’d never had before, although her mother had attempted to, but Victoria didn’t want to listen. This time she was a captive audience and had no thought of escape.

  When the nurse came in to give evening medications, they parted, each not wanting to give into the tears such heavy emotional speech could deliver.

  Victoria stepped out into the sterile hallway. She sniffed, then looked up to stare at the two men she had not wanted to see: her father and Kurt. They stood just a few feet away, deep in conversation. She could sense the tone of what they were saying, but couldn’t hear the words. Kurt nodded his head, his eyes on the floor as he listened intently to whatever her father was saying.

  “Am I interrupting something?” Her voice was more in self-defense than because she was surprised.

  Both men’s eyes hooded over. Her father, an expert politician, put on his best campaign face. “Nothing important, Victoria.” He turned sober eyes on her. “Will you visit your mother again?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said softly, placing her hand on his arm in reassurance. For once she forgot the animosity between them as she saw the sadness and pain in his eyes. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Good.” He bent down and gave her cheek a peck, then turned quickly to shake hands with Kurt as if embarrassed and not wanting to chance a rebuke from his daughter. “Good to see you again, Kurt. Take care.”

  Victoria watched him march stiffly down the hall and into her mother’s room. Her emotions had run the gamut in the past few days and suddenly she was exhausted. Kurt must have sensed it because he took her arm and led her out of the hospital and toward his car, placing her in the passenger seat without uttering a word, then headed toward the townhome. It had been years since Victoria had sat face to face with her mother and listened to her voice. And now that she had seen her again, all the confusion and childish emotions she thought she had put behind her came crashing back like boulders falling into the sea. Memories of being inside the lovingness of her family, being encased in their comfort and caring arms, swirled around her.

  And when she returned to her new place and Kurt left she would be totally alone. Again. Only this time, she vowed, if it happened, it wouldn’t be by choice.

  She sat straight up in her seat, her eyes suddenly bright, “Kurt, take me to Hal’s for a hot dog, please?” He glanced at her before staring back out at the traffic ahead. “Aren’t you tired, Victoria? Wouldn’t you rather let me take you home and fix you something to eat there?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Home is too too...” She was going to say too filled with solitude, but his next words interrupted her train of thought “Too intimate? Are you afraid I might want to make love to you again? Is that it Victoria?”

  “No! That isn’t what I meant at all.”

  “Then what did you mean? It’s obvious that you don’t want to be alone with me. Give me another reason for not wanting to go home.”

  “It’s just too lonely, that’s all,” she mumbled stiffly. He gave an exasperated sigh, his hands tightening on the wheel. “Even with me there, you’re lonely?”

  “No, but when you leave, then… She couldn’t complete the thought. A shudder passed through her and she realized just how close she was to tears.

  Kurt turned off the freeway and drove toward Hal’s, his face shuttered.

  They sat in a comer booth, munching on hot dogs they didn’t really want and discussing topics they didn’t care about. Neither was willing to broach the one subject closest to them: their feelings for each other.

  Finally Kurt stood, throwing down his napkin and reaching out a hand. “Let’s go.” His eyes sent her a message and she responded by giving his hand a light squeeze before following him out the door and to the car.

  When they reached her townhouse the tension stretched between them. Victoria busied herself with making coffee he hadn’t asked for, her hands trembling slightly. When she returned to the living room Kurt was sitting on the couch, his hands behind his head as he stared at the loft above.

  ‘I’ve been here many times, but never has that small loft intrigued me as it has since you’ve been here,” he mused, almost to himself. His eyes locked with hers, refusing to allow her to pretend she didn’t know what he wanted. “When will you give yourself — all of yourself — to me willingly?” he wondered aloud.

  She held out her hand to him. She was no longer lonely, but basking in the love that suddenly shone from his eyes. “Now.” she promised softly.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  They made love slowly, leisurely, as if they had captured and held all the time in the world. They touched, tasted one another, gave their love freely and without reservation, knowing that neither had ever known such an intense feeling before.

  They lay in each other’s arms, frightened of losing the closeness they had just gained. Kurt’s arms surrounded her protectively, the palm of his hand gently soothing the small hollow at the base of her spine. She nestled against his chest, the top of her head just under his chin.

  “Don’t stop,” she mumbled and his chest rose with a deep, vibrating chuckle.

  “Yes, ma’am. At your service, ma’am.”

  She answered his teasing with a light jab in the ribs that turned out to be more of a caress.

  “Am I doing it wrong, ma’am? Am I too rough? Am I too gentle? Just tell me what to do and how to do it I’ll try anything to keep you happy, ma’am.” His tone was teasing, but when she looked into his eyes she knew that a portion of him was totally serious. And suddenly she was frightened.

  “Kurt, I…”

  He placed a finger lightly over her mouth, silencing her. “Shhh, Victoria. Don’t spoil it now.”

  Her eyes showed the anguish that had just surfaced, breaking through the temporary euphoria in her mind, the total indecision and frustration of feeling like a floundering piece of seaweed with no roots, no home. But as afraid as she was of that homeless feeling, she was also afraid of finding roots, only to have them taken away from her when the newness wore off and the sameness of their routine made Kurt look elsewhere. Did he understand? Could he understand? She didn’t know.

  She burrowed back against the hardness of his chest, her bottom lip tucked behind her teeth to keep the words from spilling out and making an even bigger fool of herself. Her hand caressed his midriff, feeling the tautness of his bronzed skin. Perhaps this was the home she was seeking. Perhaps home wasn’t a place to be, but a person to be with. Perhaps…

  Kurt heaved a heavy, tired sigh as if her weight was too much for him to handle, and she moved slightly, giving him more breathing space. “I’ve got
to go. I have calls that have to be returned today, things to take care of. When you told me that you were visiting your mother, I left my office immediately without telling my secretary where I was going.”

  “Oh, by all means. Business before pleasure.” She was hurt by his words.

  “Don’t be a child, Victoria. We both have jobs to do. You’ve told me so yourself. And because I didn’t want you to see your parents by yourself, I’ve been neglecting my work.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly, getting up and walking proudly to the closet to take out a robe. When she had wrapped it firmly around her body she turned to face Kurt, who still lay on the bed, watching her with a speculative gleam in his narrowed eyes.

  “Meet me for dinner tonight.” His voice was low, his gaze never leaving her.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Don’t play coy; it doesn’t become you.”

  “Then what does? Lying naked in bed all day? Pleasing you? What?”

  The late afternoon sun suddenly disappeared behind a dark cloud, leaving the room cold. Kurt stood and reached for his pants, stepping into them quickly, with an effortless motion. Within a minute he was dressed, facing her, challenging her with a look. “I’ll send the car for you at eight. Be ready.”

  It was an order, one that she knew she would obey.

  ***

  The dress was simple and understated. Victoria turned this way and that trying to decide whether it was too simple. Kurt hadn’t explained his plans for the evening, so this would have to do. When the bell rang she reached for her purse and opened the door to his overly polite driver in costume…uh, she mentally corrected: in uniform. It was going to be a long evening if Kurt was half as stiff as his hired help. This man could shrivel a grape into a raisin, and all without the help of Mother Nature!

  “Where are we going?” she asked, more to hear a voice than because she was interested in her destination. As long as Kurt was there.

  “You and Mr. Morgan are attending a private dinner party this evening at the home of Mr. James Borman, the head of the International Exchange for our state. Mr. Morgan is waiting for you there.”

  “Oh, my,” she murmured, “I do believe I’ve been outclassed.”

  The moment she stepped into the house she wondered why she had come. The living room was decorated with dark, impressive antiques. The men were grouped around the fireplace drinking, while women sat chatting in small conversational groups. The moment Kurt saw her he broke away and walked toward her, his hand outstretched, a glimmer of relief in his eyes.

  “I’m glad you came,” he muttered.

  “I feel as if I’ve just been transported back in time ... to my first dance,” she returned, smiling with relief herself.

  He took her arm and began leading her through the long room toward their host, who was standing near the fireplace.

  “Your first dance? Why?”

  “Because that was the last time I saw the boys lined up on one side with girls on the other.”

  His head went back as he gave a hearty laugh, startling other guests and bringing a smile to his host’s face. “Jim, I’d like you to meet a most delightful guest; Victoria, Jim.”

  They shook hands, with Jim’s kind pale gray eyes staring down into hers. “I’m glad to meet anyone, Victoria, who can make this stodgy man laugh.”

  “Thank you.” She was suddenly shy. One of the uniformed waiters handed her a crystal glass of champagne. She glanced sideways at Kurt, who was still grinning broadly. “It isn’t easy.”

  She stood with Kurt for a few moments before excusing herself to find the rest room, more for a lack of anything else to do than from necessity.

  She sat at a makeup table, playing with the contents of her purse as she watched the other women pass in and out of the small room attached to the dressing room. Most of the women were in their forties or older, well-preserved, fashionable, expertly made-up. All but one or two wore an expression of contentment. Did that mean they were satisfied with their way of life, or with their marriages or both? She wondered. Were late and weekend business meetings something that went with the territory, merely the drawbacks of the business of making money? Had these women ever loved as much as she loved Kurt? Did they get dizzy from the nearness of their husbands, taste the sweetness of their lips and have to beg for more? A small grin creased Victoria’s cheeks. Somehow she couldn’t imagine these women going week-kneed from across a crowded room.

  She reluctantly rejoined the gathering, accepting another glass of courage from a wandering waiter. Sipping without tasting, she scanned the small scattered groups until she found Kurt. He was watching her with as much intensity as she had displayed while trying to locate him. One of the men standing beside him gave him a nudge in the ribs, whispering something that made him glance over his shoulder before grinning at the nudger, then walk toward Victoria. His eyes never left her, pleasure plainly written on his face.

  “I thought you’d never get back. How much can you do to a face that’s already so perfect?”

  “I didn’t do anything. I just sat and listened to some of the other women discuss their lives, their neighbors and the care and feeding of the wealthy American husband.” Her eyes twinkled, not so much from the small joke but because she was with Kurt again…and that made her unbearably happy.

  “Ready to go?” He took her arm and began leading her into the hall.

  “We can’t go now, Kurt, be reasonable! What will our host say? After all, this is supposed to include dinner.”

  He stopped in the center of the foyer, his hands tightening on her arms. Warm waves of heat engulfed her.

  “I can’t think straight. Every time I look across at you I want to carry you off to bed somewhere, anywhere, where I can hold you and make love to you all night.” He took her hand and placed it just inside his jacket. “Feel my heartbeat. You do that to me. You turn me into a geiger counter, ticking away.”

  “Hey, folks!” their host exclaimed from the entrance of the dining room. “It’s time to join the rest of us and have dinner.”

  Kurt took her arm and reluctantly steered her to a seat directly across from him. The table was long and narrow, easily seating the twenty guests without crowding. It was set with the finest of ecru linen and silver, with small crystal bowls of floating candles and gardenias strategically placed along the length of the table.

  Victoria watched Kurt move around to the other side, every step making his tuxedo hug the muscles of his back and arms. A deep-seated yearning to be held by him arched through her body. It wasn’t so much his physical embrace she craved as the simple nearness of him. She needed his strength, his wisdom, his comfort.

  Suddenly she felt terribly sad. Was it because she was denying herself the lifelong pleasure of him by not accepting his proposal? Had she become so confused by her parents’ relationship that it stunted her potential to be a loving, caring being? She hadn’t thought so until now. But, looking back, she had always shunned the dates who might have been interested in her as a person in favor of those who just wanted to have fun. That fact was a revelation to Victoria. She had never delved into that portion of her psyche before, and what she was finding now didn’t make her feel comfortable at all. Always afraid of deepening relationships, she had managed to keep at bay anyone who could have truly cared for her.

  A shoe softly tapped her foot and she glanced up, startled, to look into Kurt’s deep brown eyes. He raised one dark brow in a silent question and she smiled back, keeping none of her most intimate feelings from shining in her eyes, warming him with her glance.

  His breath shook in his lungs as he watched her smile break like the slow-moving surf at dawn, listening with newness and the promise of things to come. Slowly raising his long-stemmed wine glass, he saluted her with an unspoken answer to her silent invitation. It was a pledge to both of them.

  The conversation drifted around the table, talk of business, money market trends, and politics. Dinner was served in stately elegance
by two women in short black uniforms. Victoria was hard-pressed not to laugh at the predictability of it was so much like a movie would be!

  She glanced at Kurt, only to find him staring at her, and her eyes once more dropped to her plate. Her earlier mood had disappeared, to be replaced by a carefree feeling. It didn’t matter that they had to appear sedate and dignified right now. They both knew that when they reached home they could giggle, laugh, touch... love.

  A small impish grin lifted the comers of her mouth as the germ of an idea was born. Kurt looked so serious, so dignified as he answered a question the woman on his left had asked. Victoria managed to slip-off her high-heeled sandal. Continuing to eat daintily, she straightened her stockinged leg until it met Kurt’s. He glanced up, startled, but she demurely continued with her meal as her toes crept underneath his pants leg, dancing lightly across the grain of his dark silk sock.

  “Don’t you find that so, Miss Brown?” the older woman at Kurt’s side questioned.

  Victoria’s fork clattered to her plate. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Don’t you find you feel better without air conditioning?”

  “I’m afraid I enjoy the heat, so my opinion of air conditioning would be biased to begin with,” she said with a polite smile as her foot continued on its light-as-air path up and down Kurt’s calf. He looked positively rigid, as if turned into stone. She looked at him with innocence. “What do you think, Kurt? How do you feel about air conditioning?” His smile was stiff, but his voice was calm enough. “I believe I could use a little right now.”

  Her eyes widened in innocence. “Really? And I thought it was comfortable in here.”

  “So did I,” the older woman murmured, glancing at Kurt as if he had something catching. “Are you feeling well, Mr. Morgan?”

  “It’s nothing serious. I’m sure that in a few hours I’ll be as good as new,” he said blandly, his eyes sending Victoria a silent message. She had a feeling that she knew what it was that would make him feel better. The truth was, she wasn’t sure if he wanted to beat her or make love to her. Or both!