by Gina Kincade
How could she leave her?
To fall in love with Ben felt like she was abandoning her sister to the dark abyss of hopelessness and futility. How could she leave her sister alone in the darkness? She had to set her free. A woman’s life wasn’t like virginity in that once it is gone, it’s gone forever. We live on in the hearts of those that love us, who respect our memory as Brianna did Tati. She lived forever in that way.
How could she leave Tati? After all she had been through to honor her, bring her back to her own life and not the one that defined her the final days and months on this earth? How could she abandon the life she herself had lived, the squalor she immersed herself in and literally wore to find Tati’s killer?
And yet, Ben had saved her life. He saved her from a life on the streets. Was he her Mr. Right? Could she turn her back on what she had become in the name of her sister and forgive herself for love, for him? Could he?
There was no denying what she had become on the streets at night in the name of her sister. There was no going back to the soft sweet days of summer when the world was new and fresh. There was no denying that there was a part of her that actually liked what she did, had to become to run with the packs that made up the underbelly of a city, any city, at night in the name of justice. There was a seductive rhythm to the street, a boldness that was sensuous. It made her feel powerful—sexy.
She wanted to feel alive—to be alive—not just at night in the momentary arms of a man’s comfort, but all the time, now—in Ben’s arms.
And so Ben, unable to resist her yearning and his own hunger, made love to her in the most intimate of ways. He kissed her deeply, imploringly, while their tongues joined in a harmonic dance, a tango meant for lovers only where the mind was free to explore the depths of one’s soul to the heart of their passion. A tango of two bodies captured in a single movement, a single caress that swept one away on the winds of desire bending, swaying, fluttering with the soft caress of a breeze through a palm tree. It was the undeniable magic that only lovers can create.
Brianna abandoned herself in his arms, cleansed by his ardor, purified by his love. She too felt whole, at last. Was this beautiful man with the onyx sweep of hair, the penetrating blue eyes and the heart-shaped face her destiny? Was this man, who held her heart in his hands, the end of her journey and the beginning of her life?
Had Tatianna brought her here, to this point…had Tati brought them together, to lock in place, love in place? If she denies this man her love, will she lose Tati too? Oh, but it was far too much to weigh at the moment when her heart was wrapped in the throes of passion and desire for this wonderful man who saved her life by breathing love into it.
And Ben kissed her deeply, passionately, fiercely as though fighting off all doubt that their destiny was sealed. Brianna soared on the fervent wings of yearning long denied. There was but one motion, one movement and that was to go wherever Ben took her.
When they were spent, the two lovers wove themselves into one another as close as they could get and slept.
Hours later, Brianna was smoking at the small kitchen table looking down on the night in the street below when Ben woke and joined her.
“Bri, what are you doing? Did pain wake you?”
She turned to him and looked at him as if for the first time.
“No, I’m not in any pain. Would you like a cup of tea? I made a pot.”
“Yes, please. But what are you doing up?”
“I’ve been thinking, Ben.” She paused while she poured his tea.
Ben was dutifully quiet, awaiting further explanation.
You are a patient man, Dr. Ben James, Brianna thought to herself.
“I do not have all the answers, Ben. In fact, I don’t even know all the questions. But, I do recognize one thing, one very big thing—my life is changing and I am helpless to stop it or alter the course. I do not know what lies in front of me, but I see your face. And I also know that I don’t think I can live here anymore. This little apartment that was my sister’s place keeps me fractured somehow. I don’t understand how or why, but as long as I stay here, I will never be happy or fulfilled. I think this place, this small utility apartment suspended in a time of Tati’s creation has served its final purpose.”
She handed Ben his tea and passed the lemon and sugar to him. She snuffed out her cigarette as though it was a foreign object she’d only just noticed.
“I’m sorry; there was no milk. I have powered creamer, if you prefer.”
“No, thank you, Bri. Lemon will do nicely, thank you. And what is that purpose, Brianna?”
“To move Heaven and Earth to bring us together. I think that is Tatianna’s doing.”
“You don’t have to live here any longer, Bri. I told you that when we walked in. You may stay with me as long as you wish or as long as it works for you. If you want a place of your own, we will find you your own place, that you can call your home. I didn’t know that this had been Tatianna’s apartment.”
“Oh, no? How do you think Bobby Trothers found me?”
“Who…Bobby Trothers? Who’s he?”
“He is… was… Tatianna’s friend and, well, her pimp I guess. I know she only worked a few johns for him.”
“Wait…what does he have to do with this, Bri? Is he the one that attacked you? Why didn’t you tell me you were having flashbacks, that you were remembering what happened?”
“I only saw bits and pieces. I couldn’t be sure what I was remembering or imagining. I had to be sure, I had to know how it fit into my life and I am not sure at all about how it does or if I have even remembered everything. But I knew the minute my key turned the tumblers in the door. That is one of the last memories I have and that is of that sound when I opened the door for what I thought was Charlie, delivering my order. I am still so confused, Ben. I don’t know what is real.”
“I am real, Bri. I am here. I will protect and love you.”
“Love?”
“Yes, Brianna. You must know how much I love you. It has always been you from the first moment I saw you in Blu’s. I went back night after night just to see you.”
“But, there were nights I was there when you weren’t.”
“Oh, you noticed! I do work, you know; you must have guessed.”
“Yes, I noticed. I found myself drawn to you but denied it. I didn’t want to get involved. There was no room in my life for love. And you could have been married for all I know, which would explain why you weren’t always there. But, love? How could you love me? You don’t even know me.”
“I know all I need to know, Bri. You’re beautiful, loving, devoted and loyal…”
“I sound like a Golden Retriever!”
“Oh, Bri! You are kind and intelligent, warm and dedicated to those you love—like Tati. And me, I can think of no better way to spend my life than with you: my days in the shadow of your smile and my nights in your arms.”
“Oh, Ben…whatever did I do in this universe to deserve you? I am not good enough for you, Ben; you deserve better. I am broken.”
“Don’t say that, Bri. That is nonsensical. We are all broken somehow, in some way. If the existentialists are right and life is meaningless; if we acknowledge that, then it doesn’t matter to what degree we are broken because that moment in time begins right then and there. It is created precisely because the two are together. We become free to find pleasure in the small things lovers share: a touch, a glance, a whisper, the tender brush of lips in passing. Making love is one of those small natural things that grows and becomes an all-consuming, vast and precious thing joining two distinct entities into one. Everyone is broken until we each find our other that makes up our soul. You are mine. I hope I am yours.”
“What if it doesn’t work, Ben? What if I disappoint you, let you down?”
“What if I fail you? It works both ways, Bri. I am not so naive to think we won’t have hurdles or that our life will always be easy but I know a few things for sure. Life will be simpler and more gratify
ing if we are together. There isn’t any problem we can’t overcome together and I will be a better man because you love me, I am certain.”
“Oh, Ben…”
“Listen, nothing has to be decided tonight. Let’s just get a few things for you, whatever you need, and get you settled at my house? You don’t have to make any decisions. We can take it one day at a time…and we’ll talk. We’ll come back tomorrow, if you want, to get a few more of your things or I can have someone pack everything up and deliver it to my house. You can leave everything boxed in the garage until you decide what you want to do—no strings, no pressure. I just want you to get better and let me take care of you until you can take care of yourself. Deal?”
“If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then…deal!”
Brianna finished her tea and collected the cups and rinsed them to dry on the small drain board. She put everything away and wiped up the little table.
“I’ll only be a moment.” And with that she limped into the bedroom to pack a few things she thought she would need right away. All her toiletries, hair care products and underwear were easy. Her clothes were another matter. Most of what she had was Tati’s street clothes, slick leathers, push up corsets, platform shoes. Brianna hoped that was a life that she was leaving in this apartment to petrify. So, she grabbed Tati’s home clothes: yoga pants, tube tops, tennis tops, a few hoodies, a jumpsuit and some Espadrilles. There were a few other things she could take another day, but for now, that was enough. She looked around the small room that had been home to both her sister and her for so long. She felt sad as she witnessed a part of her wither and die. She began to cry.
Ben walked into the room and found her seated on the end of the bed. He sat beside her and held her in his arms as he let the emotions wash freely over her and out of her.
“It’ll all be okay, Bri, I promise.”
“I’m scared, Ben. I feel like I am leaving her all alone.”
“But, you aren’t, darling. She will always be with us—with you…in you. Can you bring something of hers with you? Is there anything here that was precious to her?”
“Yes, Mimi, her stuffed dog. She has always wanted a dog and got Mimi when we went to college. Silly, but Mimi made her feel like no matter where she was, if Mimi was there, she was home.”
“That’s an amazing story, Bri. Bring her. Now, I have to put some pants on and get dressed or you’ll be telling that story to the cops!”
They shared a light moment and chuckled. Ben dressed; Bri grabbed her toothbrush and lipsticks and slipped on some flats.
“I can carry this down to the car and then come back and get you, carry you down if you like?”
“No, Ben, I will follow you, just slowly. I have to get back to doing things for myself. I have to get better. I don’t want to be a burden on you.”
“Burden? I take care of people for a living, Bri. I think I can take care of you. Are you hungry? We can stop for takeout on the way home.”
“Now that you mention it, I am hungry, Ben. Chinese?”
“Sounds great!”
They negotiated the stairs then the short walk to the car. Ben got Bri settled in the front seat then put the bags in the trunk.
He was whistling Singing in the Rain. Bri smiled to herself and snuggled into the leather seat comfortably.
Life was finally going to deliver on all the hope and promises her mother talked about when she was a girl. Life had been difficult for Brianna’s mother but she never lost her Pollyanna dreams of happiness and love. She always told Brianna that it would be hers one day too, that her prince would come. Her sister died before her prince arrived. It made Brianna think it was just a fairytale.
Perhaps, for her, he had.
Perhaps her demons would quiet now that she had Ben. The only real nagging thought for Brianna now was…would Ben be enough? Would his touch quell the persistent, insistent germinating tug of the night-shrouded streets and the temptation of the tightrope? Would Ben satisfy the yearning that hungered within her for bizarre men, strange hands, and unspeakable dirty needs? Ben was a good man. However, good rarely triumphed over evil, at least in the places she frequented. Everyone knew just what Brianna was, no matter the excuses she drew upon to justify her hell-bent persuasions—or perversions.
Let’s face it: Brianna was a whore. She loved the attention of men, any man or any number of men she wanted. And they all tugged at her, palmed her knee hoping for the opportunity to release their oils and essence into her. They bought her drinks, drugs, cigarettes—whatever she wanted. They just wanted to touch her, smell her and some, fuck her. Sometimes she demanded money, others she’d thrown the money in their faces. Even she did not know her predictability. And that was exhilarating. She thrived on the edge; the danger fed her obsession.
Ben didn’t scare her; she scared her.
After all, hadn’t she already started smoking again? Tati was the one that smoked, not she.
Ah, that was quick…old dogs, as they say.
She was scared to death for this man sitting beside her as he drove her to his home.
She still had the key to Tati’s apartment.
She could always go home…and back. She could always crawl back into her black, skank rat hole and into oblivion.
Isn’t that what she really wanted?
It seemed like, as they spun through the streets of San Francisco to Ben’s house, the defining line between Brianna and Tatianna had blurred. Where one ended and the other began seemed indistinguishable. Was it? What was happening to Brianna? Was she losing herself into Tati or finding firmer ground in her own right? How did Ben figure into this equation? Bri was so confused but she was too tired to face her dilemma, if it was one. Perhaps it was the answer unfolding before her and if, just for once, she stayed out of her own way perhaps the Gods and Goddesses of the Universe would reveal her life as it was meant to be and not as she orchestrated.
She looked over at the man driving and she put her hand on his knee. He dropped his hand to clasp hers which reassured her in her deliberation. She leaned her head back upon the rest and the motion of the car lulled her into a light sleep. She dreamt of Tati…although she could not see Tati’s face beneath her wild red hair. They were dancing around a spring pole with ribbons and flowers. There was music and a woman’s voice singing to them. The sun bathed the three in purity on a lush green lawn edged with daffodils, tulips and hyacinth. The girls had babydoll dress and pretty shoes with lace socks and flowing bows at their waist in the back. The ribbons trailed behind them in sweeping waves that dissolved in the bright blue sky. She was trying to catch Tatianna, chasing Tati, calling out to her to stop. By the time they arrived at Ben’s loft and he pulled the car into the warehouse parking, Bri was crying.
“Darling, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“I fell asleep, I guess, and was dreaming. Tati, I couldn’t see her face beyond her crop of wild red curls. We were playing with our mother. I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her singing to us, laughing, encouraging us to dance and frolic.”
Ben brushed the tears from her cheeks and held her gently.
Brianna tilted her cheek into his tender touch.
“Oh, Ben…what’s happening to me?”
“I don’t know, darling. But, whatever it is, we’ll face it together…if you’ll let me help.”
“Oh, yes, Ben! I couldn’t do this alone. I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Come on. Let’s go in and get you settled. If you feel up to it, we can talk, but I think you need to get some rest. How is your pain level?”
“Oh, my pain is not as concerning as my brain. I can’t seem to turn it off.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll draw you a bath in the guest bedroom and give you something to relieve the pain. It’ll also help you sleep.”
Ben helped her out of the small practical car; he steadied her on her crutches then pulled her bags out of the trunk. They walked in silen
ce to the elevator just around the corner, he inserted his key to his floor, turned it, pressed the button until it lit and took the lift to the third floor. The door opened to his loft.
The first thing Brianna noticed was the muted gray paint on the walls in the foyer which was covered in diagonal black and white porcelain tiles. They were large and elegant.
“Oh, Ben, it is beautiful!”
“Thank you, Bri. I did the architectural drawings and some of the remodeling when I could help, otherwise my buddy Vince, a true Jack-of all-trades, worked by himself to bring my drawings to life. He’s a painter and a wallpaper hanger by trade and a veritable magician! We ran into a few snags, but improvised. It helps that I own the building. Let me show you around.”
“Where are we, Ben?”
“My home—oh, you mean where are we really. We are south of Market off Misson on Otis. It was an industrial park, actually, when I bought it. It is now more a developing nation of artists and all manner of designers. I rent out the rest of the building to a metal artist, one sculptress, a potter who lives with a glassblower and a fledgling modeling agency. You will have interesting people to talk to if you decide to roam around while I am gone.”
“That’s fascinating, Ben! But, I know the area. If you take Market further to the base of Kite Hill, Bobby Trothers has a penthouse there. And it’s close to the Castro District. It’s a very vibrant area and really making a change.”
“Bobby Trothers…how do you know he has a place up there; have you been there before?”
“Yes, yes, I have but not in a very long time, I don’t think.”
“You don’t know?”
“No…I don’t seem to remember the last time I was there. Will it come back to me, now that I am remembering bits and pieces?”
“I hope so, Bri, because I think it will help to add dimension to your life and the attack—timelines, details, participants. It will be a help to the police. But, don’t rush it. It will all come when the time is right. I have your therapy scheduled and I thought you might want to see someone, someone you could talk to, another woman you could trust to help you work things out.”