Lust on the Rocks

by Dianne Venetta

  “If it’s something you think you might want to consider, I’ll be happy to contact your physician and transfer your records from today.”

  Both men were looking at her, waiting.

  The strength drained from her limbs.

  “What do you say, Jess?”

  About what? Suddenly furious with him, she wondered why Luke was putting her on the spot. Was he serious about keeping it? Did he even know what he was asking?

  “Maybe you two should take some time to talk,” the doctor suggested. “This is a big decision.” He sighed. “One you can’t take back.”

  “We will, doctor,” Luke replied, warm and reas-suring. “We’ll go home right now and discuss it.”

  Frustration boiled inside her. She wanted to choke Luke.

  “I think that’s wise,” Dr. Anderson replied. He took a pen from his coat pocket and reaching across his desk, retrieved a business card and scribbled something onto the back. He stood, and handed the pale green card to her. “This is my cell phone number. Please, if you have any questions, call me. Don’t worry about the hour.”

  Rising quickly, Luke said, “Thank you. We appreci-ate it.”

  “Sure, thanks,” Jessica mumbled and stood. She took the card, cursing the tremble of her fingers as she stuffed it into her purse. She didn’t want to talk about it. Not with Luke and not with the doctor. She wanted the whole thing to be a bad dream.

  Luke grasped her by the elbow and led her to the door.

  Dr. Anderson followed. “Take care of yourself, Jessica. And call me if you need anything.”

  “Sure.”

  When the door came to a soft close, Jessica yanked her arm free. “What the hell were you pulling in there?”

  He gaped at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play innocent with me,” she demanded. “What was all that talk about keeping it?”

  He took a step back.

  “We can’t keep this baby, Luke. Don’t you get that?”

  “Why not?”

  Was he whacked? “Why not?” she hissed, careless to the nurse down the hall. “Because we’re in school. Because we’re too young. Because we’re not married and not ready for this kind of responsibility!”

  Luke didn’t say a word. He just stood there. But in his eyes, Jessica saw his feelings as plain as if he spoke them aloud.

  Disappointment. Like she had stomped on his last dream, swiped the pot of gold from his rainbow. She felt a stab of guilt. He was hurting and she held the knife.

  “I think we should think about it.”

  “Luke,” she pleaded, agitated by the gentle caress of his voice. “Get real.”

  He stuck both hands into his front pockets and his gaze firmed. “Jess, I’m as real as I’ve ever been.”

  Early evening, Sam walked in to the condo and found Jessica on the sofa alone, no lights turned on, no music videos blaring. Clad in T-shirt and jean cut-offs, she sat cross-legged with her feet stowed securely beneath her. She had expected Luke to be here, but there was no sign of him.

  “Jess?”

  Silence.

  Not exactly the homecoming she was looking forward to after the day she had endured. Sam quietly closed the door, and reminded herself Jess’ day probably hadn’t been much better. Dropping her leather briefcase onto a barstool, she plunked her purse on the counter and fell against the edge of the granite.

  Her body groaned. Every muscle ached for a hot soaking and the thought of drifting off to the scent of lavender almost pushed her to forgo the conversation she needed to have with Jess. Talk of an unexpected pregnancy did not hold the promise of relaxation. But it had to be done.

  “Jess,” Sam called over as she moved to the sofa. She placed her hands on her sister’s slender shoulders and rubbed gently. “How did your appointment go?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Sam’s heart dipped. So there was no mistake. Damn. “What did the doctor say?”

  “That I’m pregnant.”

  Sam ignored the attitude and asked, “Did he say how far along you were?”

  “Nine or ten weeks.”

  “Ten weeks?” Her hands stilled. “But that’s almost the entire first trimester.”

  “Yeah, so he said.”

  Taking a deep breath, Sam considered her next question. Ten weeks was a lot. Did Jess understand what that meant? Did she understand she didn’t have much time to make her decision? She made a mental note to work her schedule around the procedure. Sam intended to be by the kid’s side every step of the way.

  “Did Dr. Anderson say he could—”

  Sam stopped. How did one describe it? Do the surgery? Terminate the pregnancy? Take care of your problem? Suddenly depressed, she tried to shake the black fog filling her mind.

  Thankfully, Jessica didn’t seem to care that the question had been dropped. Which helped. It gave her time to think.

  Breathing in deep and slow, Sam backed away. She eased out of her cropped linen suit jacket, slung it over the back of a barstool, then joined her sister on the sofa. She slid an arm around Jessica’s shoulders, pulled in another long inhalation, and settled in. This might be a long night.

  The younger began to cry.

  “Cry, punk.” Sam pulled her close. “Let it out. Let it all out.” Jess was her baby, her innocent, her sweet precious child. She shouldn’t have to endure such heartache, such misery. She was too young, damn it.

  Whimpers grew and tears spilled forth.

  Sam squeezed. “It’s the best thing you can do right now.” Her stomach pitched. It’s the only thing you can do right now.

  Heeding the advice, Jessica covered her face with her hands and leaned into Sam. Black and blue patchy clouds torn open from storms floated by while night slowly sank across the horizon in a mix of violet and heavy gold. Another day was coming to an end and with it, the promise a new dawn, a new beginning.

  Tomorrow held new choices, new directions.

  Sam reflected on Jessica’s predicament, her struggle. It was a tough one. One that wouldn’t be forgotten. No matter how many tomorrows came and went, this decision would stay, its consequences following her to the finish. She dropped her head against Jess’ and stroked her head, combing the satin strands of hair from her face. Life was a circle of choice and consequence, a string of decisions that tied the years together.

  Sam breathed deep and full, and centered on her thoughts. Choices steered our course, defined our character. Sustained life, kept it afloat... Sam thrust the air from her lungs.

  Or sunk it.

  “What am I going to do, Sam? It’s all happening so fast.”

  “What can you do? You made a mistake. Now you deal with it.”

  “Luke wants to get married.”

  “What?” Sam pulled her head up and turned to Jessica. Anxiety peppered her chest. The words were spoken in normal sentences, but sounded surreal, so detached she seemed from their significance. “Does he know what he’s asking? He’s not ready for that kind of responsibility, and neither are you.”

  Oh gallant ignorance, put down your sword. Before you hurt someone with it.

  Faded brown eyes peered at her, filled with tears, yet empty, abandoned.

  “Luke actually asked you to get married?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?” Please, please say you turned him down.

  “I told him he was crazy.”

  Thank God. A stream of tension gushed free. Sam pulled in another calming breath before hazarding, “And?”

  Jessica looked at her and where she thought should be relief, Sam saw mounting distress. “He said I should think about it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he wants to keep the baby.”

  Sam pressed her lids shut and prayed, please, no. Despite the fact they’d been dating for almost two years, neither was ready for that kind of commitment. Please, no. Don’t let them make another mistake. Sam opened her eyes to find Jessica peering at her, a mix of disbelief and terror dang
ling from a thread.

  Sam shook her mind clear and a sense of injustice swept over her. “Listen, you don’t have to agree. It’s your body, Jess. The choice is yours.”

  “Luke says he’ll fight me. In court, if he has to.” Panic shredded her voice. “Can he do that?”

  “Yes, but he won’t win.” Sam’s will turned to steel. “I can guarantee you of that.”

  “Can he run DNA tests?”

  “What? Why would he want to do that?” But as she gazed into crumpled innocence, realization slowly tumbled through her. “Wait a minute...” Indignation flared with a spark of disbelief. “Are you telling me this baby might not be his?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I don’t know,” Jessica whimpered, frightened of what came next. “Maybe...”

  “Maybe what, Jess? Sam dropped her solid arm of support. “You should know whether it’s his or not.” Disappointment gathered like a storm across her forehead. “Unless you’ve been unfaithful to him.”

  If Jessica could have bolted from the sofa and never faced her sister again, she would have. She would have fled the condo, fled the city. She would have gone anywhere but remain here, in her sister’s home. Disapproval she could hack. But what she saw staring back at her from those familiar brown eyes was worse. It was nasty, almost hateful.

  “You told me the baby was his.” Sam scooted away from her, putting some space between the two. “Did you lie?”

  “I said I thought it was his.”

  “No,” she said calmly. “To my recollection, you were quite specific. I don’t recall any mention that the paternity of this child may be in question.”

  “What’s the difference? Isn’t it bad enough I’m pregnant?”

  Sam stood, walked away and abruptly began to pace. “Damn it, Jess, there’s a big difference.” She halted mid-stride. “Does Luke know he might not be the father?”

  “Of course not. But what does it matter?” she cried out as Sam resumed her stomp. “Like you said—it’s my decision. Luke can’t make me keep it if I don’t want to.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’re saying? Do you even realize what’s at stake?”

  “What?” Why was Sam getting so worked up? Hadn’t they already had this discussion? She was stupid for not using a condom. She got it. Why did her sister keep railing into her?

  Sam stopped near the dining table and clamped both hands on the back of a chair. She blew out her breath with a ragged sigh, the same way their father did when he was angry. It usually signaled a lecture was coming.

  Jessica pulled a pillow across her chest.

  “You’re playing with other people’s lives, Jess. Luke thinks he’s fathered a child. A child he apparently wants to keep. Then there’s still the question of who else might be involved.” She raked a hand through unruly bangs, pulling them taut from her forehead. “Do you even know who that might be?”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jessica shot back, wiping the heel of her hand against a fresh round of tears. It wasn’t like she was some kind of whore. “Of course I know who it might be.”

  “Just checking.” Sam’s hands went from chair to hips. “As I recall, you seemed so positive it was Luke’s.”

  “It probably is Luke’s!” Agitation swirled in her stomach. “I’m just trying to be honest in saying it might not be, but you don’t have to be a bitch about it.”

  “I’m being a bitch?” Sam smacked back a look of shock. “Why—because I called you on your behavior?”

  Jessica whipped the pillow aside and leaped from the sofa. She didn’t have to take this crap. “Who are you to talk to me about behavior? You sleep with any guy with two legs!”

  “This isn’t about me.”

  “Wait, I’m sorry. Make that three legs.”

  “Enough,” Sam warned.

  “The longer the better,” she added, trying to inflict her most cavalier tone. “It’s all about size, right? Then the motion of the ocean.”

  “Jessica Mallory, I said that’s enough!”

  “What?” She cut back. “Miss Holier-than-thou can’t take it? You want to talk about my behavior, but we can’t talk about yours?”

  Sam’s expression turned to stone, but Jessica wanted to throw more darts at her. She wanted her to hurt. She wanted her to take that self-righteous attitude of hers and stuff it down her throat.

  Sam was no better than she. Her sister had done the same thing and to act like she hadn’t was a big fat lie. And she didn’t have to take it one more second. “I had sex, okay. With more than one guy—just like you do. Big deal.” She crossed arms over chest. “At least I was drunk when it happened. You sleep around on purpose.”

  Sam said nothing, only linked her arms in a mirror reflection of her own. And glared.

  “It’s not like I committed a crime, or anything. I’ll get it taken care of.” Her heart skipped a beat, and Jessica locked her arms tighter. “I don’t know what you’re so pissed about.”

  “I never cheated on anyone,” Sam said coolly. “I never had sex with more than one man, unbeknownst to them. I never snuck around behind anyone’s back. I never got drunk, and used it as an excuse.”

  The knives sunk deeper and deeper into her heart. Tears stung, but Jessica held steady.

  “I never chose to ignore the need for birth control. I never ended up pregnant.”

  Her façade cracked.

  “I was honest with everyone at all times. I still am.”

  Sam paused, and Jessica’s wounds began to bleed.

  “I’m sorry my words cause you pain, but you need to hear the truth.” Jessica cursed the fresh tear that betrayed her as Sam continued, “Your actions are not the same as mine. Yes, you made a mistake, but you lied to Luke and now his heart is invested in the possibility of being a father. That isn’t fair.”

  Jessica had never thought of it that way.

  “And if he isn’t the father, he needs to know. Now.”

  “What?” Arms fell to her sides and a mass of confusion bombarded. “I can’t do that,” she stammered. “I don’t even know for sure myself!”

  “Doesn’t matter. You need to tell him there’s a pos-sibility that it may not be his.”

  Jessica’s heart jumped into her throat. Sam didn’t really mean that, did she? Why not get the tests done without Luke knowing? If they proved he was the father, no harm done. If not, then she would tell him.

  “Today, Jess.” She smoothed the edge in her voice. “You call him tonight.”

  # # #

  Alone in her bedroom, Sam faced the black of night. Not a twinkle in the sky, not a glow of moonlight. Nothing. Bringing hands palm together in front of her breasts, she inhaled deep and slow. So be it. The nothingness off her balcony would help drive out thought. All concerns, all worries, everything must go.

  She held the breath deep inside her chest and with practiced effort, expanded her lungs as fully as she physically could. With slightly parted lips, she controlled its release, the effect a soft whish. Letting go her hands, she swept them out to her sides and high above her head as she inhaled again, bringing them back down in front of her as she exhaled, slow and methodical.

  After several more repetitions, Sam felt relaxed enough to begin. She grounded her stance, centered her weight, then thrust her arms into a series of fierce punches, each and every one smooth and precise. Her heart responded to the increased demand, gaining in rate with each and every strike.

  Kung Fu was Sam’s preferred form of exercise. Not only did it tone every muscle in her body and relieve the stress of her job, but the ancient philosophy addressed her need for inner calm; her desire to be in harmony and peace with life.

  Life was about loving and giving, about receiving what you put out into the universe. Most days she was able to achieve her goals, keeping her actions in tune with her outlook, treating others with kindness and respect. But today...

  Today had been trying.

  Determined not to lose her flow, Sa
m added forward kicks to her practice. Each leg flew from the ground, intermittently timed with her arms. The pounding of her heart increased and she worked to keep her breathing deep and rhythmic, softening her focus on the bedroom wall mural of Tibetan symbols while her fists sliced through the air. The routine was taxing, but invigorating. It was a mental distraction combined with a physical venting, exactly what she needed to free herself from her concern for Jessica.

  Sam kicked higher, harder, muscles trained to deliver with strength and authority. Let go, she told herself. Let go and feel the power cascade through your body. Immerse yourself in the sensations coursing through you.

  But what was she thinking? It wasn’t like the kid to lie. Sam sucked in the thoughts, her breathing now labored. Jess was in trouble, there was no way around it. But she had to get the girl to see that resorting to more lies would only make matters worse. Sam lunged into the next kick, torso twisting, lengthening, as she continued, her muscles pumped with the infusion of warm blood, a fine layer of sweat covering her body. She rolled into the next maneuver—kick, kick, punch—one-two-three. Leaping again, she propelled herself into a double kick, but nearly lost her balance. “Damn it,” she grumbled, more winded than usual. “Shake it off, Sam. Shake it off.”

  With the solidity of a hundred year old oak, she planted her feet squarely beneath her and brought graceful arms up and outward, gathering focus and strength as she prepared for another sequence. Who would have thought Jessica was entertaining more than one guy at a time! Sam punched, one-two-three. Didn’t she know there were boundaries? Rules regarding exclusivity that must be maintained and respected?

  Of course she did. Sam sucked in her breath, swung shoulder level arms in a circle around her and thrust out another kick. Of course she did. But how could she rebel so hard against doing the right thing? She wasn’t raised that way. And despite her claims to the contrary, Sam had never demonstrated anything but honesty and integrity in her relationships. Her leg came swooping down short of its goal. Had she?