Thicker Than Water

by Dylan Allen

  My mother walks into the foyer as I’m waiting. Her normally enigmatic expression is full of sympathy. Her dark hair is pulled back, her mouth smiling, but tense. “Is she ready to go?”

  “I think so. We’ll be back tomorrow morning for her mother,” I say staring up at the stairs. Waiting for her to appear. I was hungry for every glimpse of her now. Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to see her every day, or even every week is killing me.

  My mother puts an arm around my waist and pulls me in for a rare hug. I hug her back. I need the comfort right now. I’ve never looked to my mother for that before. Lucía was the first person to ever give me any real peace. She’s handled things amazingly well. She’s helped me really believe that what happened to Julian wasn’t my fault. That my role in it was a very cruel coincidence, but nothing more. She’s shown how generous and gracious love can be.

  “You’ll be fine. This won’t be easy, but it’s the best thing, Reece.” Her voice is gentle, but I can hear the steel in it, too. She knows the separation will be hard, but she’s sure it’s the only way forward.

  I hug her back, the knot in my chest constricting as I’m reminded yet again, that the best thing for me is to send the woman I love to live in another country.

  “I know. Thank you for everything,” I say. And I mean it.

  She sighs. “I wish I could have done more. But, you’ll be fine. She’s a smart woman. And she loves you. Those will be the secrets to surviving this.”

  I look down at her, smiling, but surprised. “I never took you for a romantic,” I say to her.

  “Who do you think you got it from?” And with a quick peck on my cheek, she continues down the hall.

  Lucía comes down a few minutes later. She’s dressed in a short red top and black shorts that are, as usual, too short.

  The shirt is unsubstantial and as soon as I see her, I want to take it off. I know I’ll find her completely naked underneath.

  She’s half way down the stairs when she sees me. She goes from walking to running and I meet her at the landing, where she launches herself into my arms. Her legs wrap around my waist and she kisses me like it’s the last time we’ll kiss. And I reciprocate.

  I’m scared about her leaving. Terrified for her to be in a new country, having to learn how to navigate all by herself. I know she’s capable of doing it, but it feels wrong that she’s going to be doing this without me. I can’t move to Mexico. My work is here. I head a studio that’s my family’s legacy. No matter how much I need her. No matter how much she needs me.

  She understands. This is her home, too. Her life is here and this is just until she can come back. But it’s going to kill me to be away from her. To not be able to protect her. The stories I’ve read this week, of what happens when undocumented people are deported or leave voluntarily. They often end up on drugs, homeless, exploited or dead.

  Lucía’s one of the lucky people who can actually afford to leave. She’s got money and she’s got me. She’s also got family in Mexico. She’ll be able to draw on the money in her US bank account anywhere Visa is accepted. She’ll be fine.

  Tonight I’m going to have a meaningful talk with my woman, and then I’m going to make love to her. And then, I’m going to let her go.

  We’re outside, at my house in Malibu. This has become our place. It’s where we always come when we need to be alone, but together. The fire pit is roaring and we’ve got a thin quilt thrown over us, as we lie together in the cabana I set up outside last month. The fire’s blue and orange flames, our only source of light.

  “It feels like I’ve come full circle, Reece. That Ana Maria has won and Lucía’s having to take a back seat. I can’t believe I’m leaving my home. That I may never come back. That I can’t live with you anymore. I’ve lost control of everything.” She’s not crying. Her voice is clear, reflective as she speaks. Almost as if she’s not talking about herself.

  “No, Luc. You’re taking control. You’re making decisions. You’re not waiting for them to be made for you. This is necessary. And we know it’s temporary. You’ll be back. One way or another.”

  She nestles her head on my chest, but doesn’t respond.

  I’d made a mistake a week ago. I asked her to marry me. We’d been eating dinner with Jess and I remembered that she’d married someone to get her citizenship. That night while we were brushing our teeth, I’d brought it up. She only glanced at me in the mirror and finished brushing her teeth. And then said, “If that’s the only reason we’re getting married, then, no.”

  I decided to save my protests for later. I cursed my misstep, but knew that any protests to the contrary would be futile right now.

  I want to ask her again tonight, but I know that even if we are married, she’d still have to leave in order to petition for permanent residency.

  And I don’t want her, or anyone else, to think that that was the reason I wanted to marry her. So, I’ve decided to wait before I ask again. But it’s coming. I want her to settle into her new life first, before I disrupt her rhythm.

  I lean over to kiss her and she smiles as she ducks under my arm to sit up. I raise an eyebrow at her, smiling quizzically as she then rises to her feet. Then she lifts her little red top off and reveals her bare, unbound breasts to the night air. They are covered in gooseflesh, her nipples puckered and pebbled. My mouth waters at the sight of her.

  “Come here,” I say to her as I reach down, unbutton my shorts, and pull my stiff cock out. I start stroking it while I watch her.

  She shakes her head and then reaches down to pull her shorts off. She stands before me, the ocean as her back drop, her hair flying in the breeze. She’s the embodiment of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. I promise myself that I’m going to plan a trip to Florence, so I can show her that painting.

  I shrug my shorts all the way down and pull my top off. Lucía drops to her knees in front of me. Her eyes trained on my hand as it moves in long, leisurely strokes up my cock. She licks her lips and covers my hand with her own and then she takes me in her mouth. She sucks the tip of my cock while our hands work together. Her hand falls away, and mine does too, she takes me all the way to the back of her throat and I can feel it close around my head. I groan and pull myself out of her mouth.

  She comes up eagerly wiping her mouth as she climbs into my lap and then lower herself onto to me. She drapes her hands over my shoulders and clasps them behind my neck. She buries her face in my neck and we start to fuck. She’s moving fast, rotating her hips every time she comes down. My hand goes to her clit and I start to rub her. She whispers my name, as she loses her rhythm. And when she starts to come, I pull out of her, flip her back onto the mattress and eat her down from that orgasm and up into another.

  When she’s done I pick her up and carry her into the house.

  “It’s our last night in this house for a long time. Let’s make love in our bed,” I say to her as I walk us down the hall into the bedroom.

  When I lay her down, I just look at her for a long time. I know I’ll see her again in two weeks, but that might as well be a light year. This move is wrong. We’re separating when we should be moving in together.

  As if she’s reading my mind she says, “I wish you could come with me.”

  I can’t find my voice. I am lost for words. I trail my fingers across her collarbones and trace the curved silhouette of her left breast and let my fingers rest on the tattoo that’s next to her heart. Freedom. It’s what she wants and what she needs and she’s leaving tomorrow to try and find it.

  And suddenly I want it, too. When I met Lucía, I’d thought I had everything I could ever want, but I didn’t know what I was missing. She’s been like a mirror of truth for me. I’ve had to look at myself and confront how I live. It’s humbled me to have to stand back and just watch as the woman I love has to break down her entire life and start over again.

  “Distance is nothing,” she whispers, in between the kisses she’s pressing on my chest. “We’ll be okay. And in three ye
ars, I’ll be back. Now, stop brooding and kiss me. I’m going to have to live on what you give me tonight for the next two weeks. I don’t want to waste time talking.”

  “Talking is a waste of time?” I say with a smile, I dot her face with kisses, nipping at her cheeks, her chin and her lips.

  “Mmmm hmmm . . .” she mumbles, her eyes following the path of her fingers as she strokes my chest. “Our hearts do all the talking for us. Our bodies do the translating. Who needs words?” She pulls my head down and this time, I don’t stop.

  When the sun comes up, Lucía’s spent. And I’ve made some decisions. I have to prepare myself for what’s to come. So, I don’t sleep. I just watch her and whisper promises. That I’ll find a way to close the gap, that I won’t leave her alone for long and that tomorrow is just the beginning of our story.

  At the airport, Lucía and I stand and hug. She’s holding me so tight that my breathing constricts. It still doesn’t feel like she’s close enough. We stand there, trying to drag out the last few minutes we have together. I let my hands roam her back, memorizing the way her ribs feel as my hands skim them. I run a hand under the fall of hair that’s hanging down her back and caress the nape of her neck. She’s really leaving and even though we planned for it and talked about it, I’m not ready to let go.

  “Please wait for me. Please believe that I’m coming back. I love you.” She says over and over as she cries into my shirt.

  Her mother comes to us to remind her that they don’t have much time before they have to board their flight. I can’t go beyond security.

  I watch my girl walk away, and my heart goes with her. So beautiful and brave. She’s in the pair of ripped jeans she was wearing the first time we met, her black shirt falling off one shoulder. Her hair flowing, her lips red; I make a mental image.

  She turns and gives me one last big, brave smile and blows me a kiss before she disappears into the crowd to her gate. I don’t see her again.

  I return to my car and get the bag I’d hidden in the backseat. And then, I head back to the terminal to catch my own flight.

  40

  Lucía

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  * * *

  I wake up to the smell of rich coffee and hot bread . . . and to my mother’s quiet sobbing. This, and the cock crowing is what has woken me up every morning since we got here. My father hasn’t been to see us.

  When we called to say we were moving, he’d said he wanted to try and rekindle his relationship with us. But, that’s not going to happen. Last week he called to tell us that he has another family. A woman he lives with and has had two more children with.

  I look at the clock by my bed and see that it’s only six in the morning. I was up until one a.m. writing, and I feel like I could sleep for another two hours. I see Reece’s picture; one I took the last time we went to the beach in Malibu. He’s looking straight at the camera, and laughing. His beautiful mouth slightly open in the frame I snapped and it’s exactly how I like to think of him. I feel a pang of longing as I remember our conversation on the way to the airport. God I miss him. And I’m worried.

  The first month we were here, he came down twice. It was glorious, we spent the weekend at one of the resorts, catching up, fucking, eating and just being together. The second month he came once and this month, he hasn’t been at all. We talk every night, most nights, FaceTiming. th as we get ourselves off. But he’s postponed his trip three times now. Something’s going on and I’m scared that he’s wavering. Maybe the distance is too much.

  Our house is all wood and stone and everything echoes. I hear the front door open and close and assume my mom’s gone outside to pick up our grocery delivery.

  I’m going to brush my teeth and change before I head downstairs. Sometimes, she comes right back inside. But, a few days a week, I find her sitting outside, staring out at the horizon, and I have to sit with her until she feels ready to come in.

  It’s been exhausting.

  I turn on the bathroom light. The buzz and hiss of bulbs as they brighten is something I’m still not used to. I peer at myself in the mirror and I can see the fatigue showing on my face.

  “You look beautiful.”

  Reece’s voice floats into the room, and like a mist, it washes over me. I close my eyes in relief and turn around.

  “Baby…” Amazement tinging my whisper as I drink him in. He looks so beautiful. He’s tanner, his hair is longer and he’s beaming at me as he leans against the doorframe of the bathroom.

  “Hey, Fifty-five,” he says softly as I leap into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist. He straightens and absorbs the impact and wraps his arms around me. He pulls me into a fierce hug and then in an instant, he’s kissing me. It’s a fierce, hungry kiss. This month has been hell for him, too. He tastes like mouthwash and Reece and I let myself relish it all. I wrap my arms even tighter around his neck and he deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing past mine and making me whimper. God, I’ve missed him. My heart is like a parched desert getting the first kiss of rain it’s had in months. Our tongues duel and dance. Greet and welcome. I can feel him hard and eager against my stomach. He places my ass on the sink and unbuttons his jeans.

  “I need you. So badly. Can I have you?” he asks in between kisses.

  “Always,” I whisper as I spread my thighs to make room for his hips. My night shirt rides up and I’m naked underneath.

  We both groan at the first touch of his fingers.

  His eyes stay on mine as he strokes me, his fingers trailing through my wet, swollen lips. “Always,” he says before I feel the broad tip of his cock enter me. I am so ready for him.

  He takes his time, and fills me one slow increment at a time. The glide of his flesh into mine is a divine homecoming. The pleasure of it teeters on the edge of unbearable.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” Reece rumbles into my ear as he thrusts into me. It’s claiming and hard. I love it. I want more.

  “I’ve missed you, too. Please. Fuck me harder,” I beg, I grab his ass and hitch my legs higher against his waist. He tilts my hips, so that I’m almost sitting in the sink and he gives me what I asked for.

  He doesn’t hold back and in a minute, I’m putting my fingers between my legs and rubbing my clit so that we can come together. “I love you.” He grits his teeth, nips at my lips and thrusts. I hiss at the bite, and he licks the sting. I can feel the flex of his muscled flank under my thighs as he fucks me. “God, I need you, Luc.” He pours out as he comes. My climax chases his.

  “I’m going to come, Reece.” I pant, almost in warning. My perch on the sink suddenly feeling precarious. My arms flex as I bow my back as the first crest of my orgasm breaks.

  He whispers in my ear, “Come. I’ve got you.” He presses a kiss to my cheek. His arms tighten around me and I fall into a blistering, blissful haze. Cheek to cheek, we stay as we are; me sitting on the sink, legs wrapped around him, his arms encircling me.

  “Hi, honey,” I mumble into his neck. I stroke his sweat damped back, relishing the feel of his skin under my fingers. I let my hands move over the ridges and valleys that his muscles create. I inhale the fresh scent of him and press a kiss to his cheek.

  “Hey,” he says as he catches his breath. “I hadn’t planned on attacking you like that. I saw you, looking so fucking beautiful, and just lost my mind for a minute.” He chuckles. His breath fans the hair that clings to my neck and I tighten my arms around his neck.

  “That was just what I needed.” I pull my face back so I can look at him.

  “I hadn’t expected you.”

  “Yes, I know,” he says tenderly, his eyes not leaving mine. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been here.”

  I look down, not sure what to say, and just relieved that he’s here now. I’ll need to learn to adjust. It’s not reasonable to expect Reece to fly down twice a month or even once every month.

  He pulls out of me and holds my waist while I hop down. I start to clean myself and he straightens his clothe
s.

  “It’s been hard. But, I understand,” I say, and I do. But I hate it. The next three years are going to be miserable.

  As soon as his jeans are buttoned he sits on the edge of the free-standing bathtub and watches me while I wipe myself clean with a hot wash cloth.

  I take my time, holding my night shirt up, so he can see my naked body.

  He groans. “I’m going to make you pay for teasing me,” he drawls at me.

  “I can’t wait,” I say, my voice low and sultry even to my own ears.

  He stands up. “Listen, I have a surprise for you. We’re already late. I’m going to need to you to stop tempting me.” He kisses the tip of my nose, takes the wash cloth from my hands and tosses it into the clothes hamper in the corner.

  “Let’s go for a drive?” he says cheerfully, his grin broad and bright.

  I smile back, “Of course. Let me get changed. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  We walk back to my room. I head for my closet and Reece leaves. As I get dressed my mind and heart race.

  For the last two weeks, I’d been worried. I’d thought maybe the distance was wearing on him. That maybe now that I’d left, he’d see that it wasn’t worth the trouble.

  I throw on my clothes and do a quick brush of my teeth. A sudden, irrational fear that he’ll be gone when I get to the kitchen adding an urgency to my steps.

  I release a breath I’d been holding.

  He and my mother are sitting at the kitchen table. They both have full breakfast plates in front of them. My mother looks calm, her eyes red from crying, but she’s putting on a brave face in front of Reece. They talked before we left. She tried to apologize for what she’d said in the car. He wouldn’t allow her to. They’d sat in his parents’ living room, her crying on his shoulder as they comforted each other.

  “Mama, are you okay?” I ask her softly.

  “Yes, of course. Did you sleep well?” she asks casually. I look at her closely trying to see if she’s really fine. She takes a sip of her coffee and raises her eyebrows when I don’t answer right away.