by Carr, Suzie
My mouth dropped, thrown by her candid attitude. I blushed and hid from it by guiding a stray lock of my hair behind my ear. I warmed up to a small smile.
She flashed me a quick wink, sending my heart stampeding out of control.
Shawna arrived just in time. “Hey, pretty lady. What’ll it be?”
Ruby looked to me. “Let’s have something sweet. What do you say?”
I wouldn’t want to disappoint her at this point. “I heard Shawna here mixes up a delicious mango martini.”
Ruby slapped the counter. “Well, all right then. Shawna, two mango martinis please.”
Shawna cocked her head. “Great choice. Looks like we’re going to have some fun tonight.” She sashayed away.
“Shawna sure is different from most people,” Ruby said, taking a napkin from the holder and wiping her part of the bar. “She seems, oh I don’t know…” She continued wiping the bar, reaching out in front of me now, brushing my leg with hers as she leaned in.
I recited a silent prayer that she wouldn’t say anything derogatory about Shawna. I’d fought to defend her too many times to ignorant people, and I sure hoped this pretty little thing would not be another of those cases. “She seems kind of sweet?” I asked, offering Ruby the path better taken.
She stopped wiping, and remained close, close enough that I could practically taste her cherry lipstick. She gazed up at Shawna who blended our mango martinis and joked with another customer about the recent Sox game. “I wasn’t going to say that.”
I protected Shawna. Regulars in this lounge knew better. We all protected her. We all loved her. Every once in a while, we’d get people, usually men, whispering and staring at her with curious eyes, trying to figure her out, jabbing each other’s sides and egging each other on to crack on her. None of us stood for it. “Then what?”
“She’s more than sweet. She floats around this place in love with what she does. Look at her.” Ruby tilted her head and a piece of her hair fell down onto my arm. “She is choosing to spend her time laughing and making new friends rather than sitting behind a desk stuffing her nose in a computer screen all day long. She walks with a sense of freedom.”
Shawna was far from free. She put up a good front for sure. “She certainly does live her life according to her own set of rules.”
“I admire her for that. I also admire her hair. What I would give to have shine and fullness like that.”
“Some people are just blessed by mother nature I suppose,” I said, floating on the coattails of her openness and innocence.
Shawna returned with our drinks. “Careful with these. They hit you quickly.” She placed them down and strolled away.
We sipped our fruity martinis in silence watching the Sox play Baltimore on the overhead flat screen. “I hate baseball,” I admitted.
Ruby peeked up at me out of the corner of her eye. “I can’t even look at you now that you said that.”
“Is that so?” I watched her lips pucker around the thin straw, as she tugged at the martini. She was too beautiful in this setting, wrapping those glossy lips around the straw, hugging it, nurturing it, masking her playful grip.
She stopped sucking and wiped her lips with her fingertip. I could just imagine how soft those lips would feel. I twitched a bit. So I stood, crossing my arms over my chest now, slightly intrigued and slightly disturbed at my buckling knees.
Ruby studied me. “You are pretty even when you’re uptight.”
“I’m not uptight.” I struggled to smile to prove her wrong.
“Darling, you’re so stressed that the air can’t move around you.” Her soft eyes landed on mine and bathed me in warmth.
“I need to use the ladies room.” I ran away, rushing past the bar and pushing open the bathroom door. I walked over to the sink and squared off at myself. My hair wilted just below my shoulders and my brown eyes drooped. Where did those dark circles come from? I wiped away some smudged mascara and tried on a smile. It looked plastic. I didn’t even know her, yet, she already drove me to obsess. I would finish my drink and leave.
I walked back out to the bar, sat down, sucked down my drink and suffered a brain freeze. My temples pounded and my head verged on exploding. I grabbed the sides of my head and sank into the bar, whimpering.
Ruby curled up around my back like a stole. She whisked my hair between her fingers and draped it over my right shoulder. Then she leaned in. Her breath blew hotly against my neck. “Just stay right where you are. I’ll take good care of you.”
Shawna crept up as Ruby’s silky hands cradled the top of my shoulders. I waved Shawna away and she retreated in a flash.
Ruby whispered into my ear. “Do me a favor.”
“Hmm?”
“Close your eyes.”
“Okay.” I half-closed them.
She reached over my shoulder to peek a glance. “All the way.”
I did as commanded. “Fine.”
She kneaded her strong fingers into my tense neck. I moaned. “Oh God, that feels so good.”
“Hmm. I bet it does.” Her voice spun out, ripe and succulent.
I quivered with each of her kneads. I dropped my head and sank into the pleasure, not caring about curious bystanders. She squeezed my shoulder blades and I moaned. “I’m sorry. These moans are just slipping out.”
“Oh, darling, it’s okay. Who cares? Enjoy the moment.”
I could just imagine how mushy I would become if hot oil and naked skin were involved. I quivered again, and moisture pooled between my legs for the first time in ages. “You don’t have to keep going if your hands are tired.” I sat taller.
“Shhh.”
She caressed my shoulders in long, sweeping grips and I just couldn’t contain the pleasure. I exhaled like she’d given me an orgasm right there in the middle of the lounge. Like a kitty she purred her words, leaning in close and releasing her earthy, fresh scent at my cheek. “I could do this for a long time.”
How could I argue? I relaxed again and let her refreshing spirit take me on a journey far away from Jessica and from lawyer’s bills. I slid right into this sweet spot and let her take me away. I zoned out of the bar, hooked on this mystical ride and imagined lying in a hut somewhere on the coast of Indonesia, a warm breeze blowing through my hair, the curtains waving, while her fingertips flirted with my bare skin. In this dreamy state, she stood behind me, massaging my back, taking in my curves, nibbling on her lower lip. Her hair, blonde and spiraled, hung down and tickled my golden shoulders. Light jazz played in the background, filtered in between our breaths, circling around us like a sexy snake, taunting us with its dangerous venom just enough to send us reeling. Her hands traveled down my spine, up my spine, across my shoulders and down to my breast bone where her long fingers stopped just centimeters away from the curve of my breast. She leaned in, cradled her chin in the crook of my neck and paused to draw in a subtle, but noticeable breath. Her chest pressed up against my back and pulsed. Soon, my heartbeat caught up in hers and in sync we connected as one. Her spirit cradled me, protected me, anchored me to this moment, a moment when I embraced this most raw and vulnerable state where I let go. I allowed myself to ride on the tailwind of someone so pristine and detached from drama.
Then, her hands left my skin and I heard her talking, talking to someone. I tried to open my eyes but they were too tired, too relaxed. So I bowed my head and listened to her coax another voice to pass her two glasses of water. Then, I heard more voices, the sound of ice being scooped up, the sound of men yelling about baseball. As if tossed in a pool of frigid water, I woke and jumped up.
“Where did you go?” Shawna asked, tripping over giggles.
Ruby caught on to her giggles, too. And, ultimately, so did I. I let the laughter roll, releasing years of frustration, enjoying the lightness of my tension-free shoulders.
Somewhere in between giggling and catching my breath, I’d released myself from my own prison. I could’ve skipped around the lounge in a happy dance. Instead, I gr
abbed Ruby by the shoulders, pulled her in, and laid a generous kiss on her surprised lips. She giggled under my kiss and then softened in a sweet, lingering reciprocated touch of her own. I pulled back first and looked away embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. That was totally inappropriate.”
She wrapped her hand around my wrist.
I locked onto her teasing, pale blue eyes. “Nothing wrong with a girl expressing herself, now is there?”
I fumbled to match her eloquence and confidence. I could only shrug and shake my head like a fool. “I better get back to my room and make some phone calls.” I couldn’t stop gazing into her eyes. I needed to pull away from this. “How much for this session?”
She hesitated on my words with a pull on her lower lip and a contemplative stare. I melted. “How about a beer next time you’re in town?”
“A beer?” I asked.
“You do drink beer don’t you?”
I was married. I couldn’t do this. “No I don’t.” I reached into my pocketbook and pulled out a twenty. I handed it to her. “Is this enough?”
She eyed the twenty like it was a dead rat. Then she cocked her head, reached out for it and folded it between her pretty fingers. “If that’s how you want to pay me, then, that’s how you want to pay me. Can’t argue with a woman who knows what she wants, now can I?”
This time I pulled in my lower lip, resisting the urge to take back my beer resignation. Logic spun me back around again. I pictured a long, drawn-out talk months into our beer dates where I’d have to tell her I was married and obviously a terrible wife for flirting with the notion that I should be kissing and drinking beer with someone other than Jessica. “That’s me. A woman who knows what she wants.”
“Suit yourself.” Ruby shrugged and then walked away swinging her hips far too deliberately for me to look away. She turned back and caught me staring and winked.
Chapter Five
Ruby
I left the lounge confused and caring too much about why Nadia treated me like a service representative. That twenty dollar bill insulted me. But why? I achieved my goal. I massaged her, and I earned twenty dollars.
I walked through the garden patio admiring the ferns and the pretty, festive lights overhead, vying to recover my balance. This woman affected me like no other. I wanted her to like me. I wanted her invite that night to have meant more than a service call.
I strolled past the gift store and admired a leather satchel with gold plated buckles, trying to cool myself and get a grip. I would not tangle into this mess. Nope. I would not. I was fun. I was spontaneous. I lived on the edge. I headed straight for the pool.
Guests had long since left the chaise lounges and warm water. So, I tore off my clothes and dove in. I swam laps, then rolled over to my back and floated, watching as my nipples bobbed. Cameras surrounded all corners of the pool, and I willed for Nadia to be watching. I wanted her to see me as the free-spirited girl I was and not a desperate fool vying for her attention.
While opening up into great strides racing from one end of the pool to the other, my mind continued to wander. Nadia Chase’s moans played on my heart, as did the way her skin flecked in the glow of the dim lights.
I flapped my feet and paddled to the far end of the pool fighting off these images. I would not obsess. I focused on my feet and how the cool water refreshed them with each splash. I inhaled the familiar chlorinated scent and basked in the humidity that marked so many of my childhood days with my childhood friend, Catherine, at the community pool.
I wondered what my life would’ve amounted to had she and I remained friends. Would we be long-distance friends who called each other on the weekends? Would she have invited me to her wedding and baby’s christening and asked me to stand in as godmother? Would she have approved of Nadia?
Nadia. She was tricky. She had softened beneath my fingertips one minute and the next had pulled the thick curtain over herself and shut me out. No one acted with such intensity one moment and severe restraint the next unless something scared her.
Her mystery intrigued me. I didn’t like this. I needed to act more unaffected, more poised, more undeterred by her. Instead she sat in my brain like a statue, taking up space she didn’t deserve. She garnered my thoughts.
I swam backwards towards the pool ladder, flapping my feet, escaping into the chlorine and cool water.
I climbed out of the pool and headed over to my pile of clothes. I picked up the twenty I earned from Nadia and shoved it into my jeans, got dressed, and walked out of the pool area with dripping hair.
Several minutes later, my car guzzled up the twenty dollars in gas and left me dry. When I returned home, all of my possessions blocked my front door. Things weren’t even in boxes. They were just tossed on the porch. T-shirts, bras, flip-flops, blankets, and bowls.
I ran down the steps and knocked on my landlord’s door. He answered without looking me in the eye. His wife popped up behind him, her frizzy hair and her makeup smeared. She reminded me of someone who partied all night and forgot to wash her face after. She handed my cat to me. “This here’s the last of your things.”
I took Bentley into my arms. “You’re kicking us out?”
“I can’t pay my bills on your good looks, honey.”
“I have nowhere to go.”
“You have a good car right there.” She tilted towards the Camaro, all shiny and perfect under the street light before slamming the door.
If I couldn't find a place to live and the money to afford it quickly, I'd have to sell my car. I didn’t want to do this because Grampa had worked so hard to buy it for me.
I stood numb with my cat, sweating in the muggy night air.
We spent the night in the car. I curled up in my front seat, and he balled up under a tote bag in my back seat. When we woke up the next morning, my neck was cramped.
* *
I would have to ask Grampa for his help again. Even if he minded, he’d never express it. That man didn’t speak one negative word, ever. Even about Grace. And that woman broke his heart. Yet, he still admired her and spoke of her like she was one of the gentlest creatures on the face of the planet. He was so sweet with her, yet he wasn’t enough.
He spoke only good words of her, even after he realized she took off with his signed golf clubs from Jack Nicklaus. That day, we had planned to spend the day driving balls in the backfield. The sun had sprinkled golden highlights all over the fields and trees that day. The Rafters looked just like a Van Gogh painting. Bold pink, yellow, and orange strokes had splashed across the sky. I stepped out onto our back patio and breathed in the fresh mountain Massachusetts air waiting on Grampa to come out of the detached barn with his prized clubs, the ones he swore improved his golf swing.
He disappeared into the barn for too long, so I fed the birds, tossing out sunflower seeds and giggling as they pecked the ground like wild savages eating their very last dinner. Just as I emptied another handful to them, Grampa exited the barn empty handed, whistling a Kenny Rogers tune. “Seems I don’t have those clubs anymore.” He placed his wrinkled hands on his strong hips and looked up at the painted sky with a smile on his face.
“Well where did they go?”
He stretched his eyes out to the horizon, squinting now. “I forgot that I lent them to Grace.”
My heart skipped a beat. “So she has to come back then?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m going to let her keep them. She liked them. They’ll keep a smile on her face.”
I grabbed at his plaid shirt and pulled. “No. You have to get them back. You have to call her and tell her she needs to bring them back to you. Jack signed them for you.”
He covered my hand with his and squeezed. He looked down at me with a kindness that could not be easily replicated by many. “She’s not coming back.”
I shifted forward, desperate to force him to get her to come back to us. I feared the end of ice cream night. I feared that I’d forget how to hem my pants and how to cast on and cast off the kn
itting needles. I worried I’d forget how to brush my hair so it fell in long waves over my shoulders. I didn’t want to have to tell Grampa I had my period and needed maxi pads. What would happen when I needed to get a bra? I panicked and ran into the house, tossing teardrops the size of marbles off my face as I scaled the steps.
My grampa’s heavy feet pounded up after me. I reached my room and he caught up to me quickly. His heart raced, his face reddened, his hand scratched his wiry gray hair. “She’s happy and we need to be happy for her.”
“How are you going to be happy?”
He grasped onto my bony shoulders and spoke to me like an adult. “I could never be happy knowing she wanted something more than this. This farm, this bed and breakfast, this is my life, this is our life. She didn’t want this.”
“She baked here. She took her showers here. Of course she wanted this.” She had swarmed around the kitchen humming songs and took long baths smelling of lilacs. How could he say she didn’t want this place?
“She cried a lot because her big spirit craved more than this place.”
“She only cried once. Just once.” I yelled this. My grampa flinched just as he did that day she cried and tried to hide her tears with big sunglasses. She cried because we had to cancel a trip to California. “And that was all my fault. I ruined the trip. I cried, too.”
He arched a wiry eyebrow at me. “You had the flu. We couldn’t go.”
Reality slammed me. “I irritated her, didn’t I?” Of course I did. I didn’t need him to answer this. I whined too much when it snowed. I never did my homework properly. I ruined their television nights by begging to watch my silly shows. “She has every right to hate me.”
Grampa pulled me in and patted my back, kissing the top of my hair. “Dear, you have it all wrong.”
I curled up into his strong arms. “She left because of me.”
He drew a deep breath. “I’m never going to lie to you. You know that right?”
I nodded and swallowed my tears. “Tell it to me straight. I can handle it.”