He didn't see me, only having eyes for his wife, so when he walked over to her and sunk down on his knees, I stayed perfectly still. Before she could mention they had company, he captured her face in his hands much like his son did to me on occasion, and kissed her passionately.
He pulled away and looked into her eyes. "Last night was incredible, sweetheart. I felt like I was seventeen again," he said quietly…well, not too quietly because I heard him.
I cleared my throat and saw him stiffen immediately. He slowly turned to his left and saw me sitting at the end of the table. "Morning, Doc," I taunted as I sipped my coffee.
"Good morning, Colton." He turned to look at her, still holding her face. "Thanks a lot, Leslie."
She giggled. "Like I could get a word out before you bounded in here and kissed me stupid? It's your fault you forgot the boys were here this weekend. Do you want some breakfast? I was about to make something for Colton."
He chuckled. "I believe I'm supposed to cook this morning. I distinctly remember a bargain being made at some point," he responded cryptically. I had to wonder what she did to get that concession out of him.
"Oh, that's right. Well, I'd like French toast," she demanded with a sly smile.
He laughed as he left the room. I heard him run up the stairs and pound on a door. "Son, up and at 'em. Downstairs. Okay."
I turned to Les for some clarification. "Jean-Luc can only make scrambled eggs and toast. French toast isn't hard, but he claims he can't do it. Andre, however, makes excellent French toast."
I nodded in acknowledgment, though I'd never had it. I'd had other things he made when I'd been at the apartment, but breakfast was never one of them. Maybe now that we've opened the door to sex we can have more sleepovers?
Jean-Luc came back into the kitchen through the hallway and stopped next to me, placing his hand on my back. I flinched involuntarily, and I immediately hated myself. Thankfully, I knew he was there and didn't hit him, but he still pulled his hand away quickly. "I'm sorry, son."
"No, Doc, it's okay. I know you didn't…I'm trying to get past it."
He nodded and walked to the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee. There was suddenly tension in the air, and I hated it. Les, however, was quick to diffuse it. "Did you wake him?"
Jean-Luc turned and grinned at her. "I did."
"I didn't hear any cussing," she responded.
He sat down. "First thing he asked… 'where's Colton'. I told him downstairs waiting for French toast, and he said he'll be right down." He had a smirk on his face I didn't understand.
"No way? It's nowhere near noon." She seemed surprised which was puzzling.
"Way," he responded as he looked in my direction and smiled. "Can I get you to help me with something for a minute?" I nodded, knowing I owed him an apology.
I followed him out to the garage and saw a large box sitting in the middle of the floor. The side had a label, Xmas Lights, and I was a little worried. "What can I do for you?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to have a word with you. I had the opportunity to speak with a colleague yesterday. She's the head of plastic surgery at the hospital. I didn't tell her anything about you; I just described the scarring on your back and asked her what could be done about it. She gave me a few options."
I was surprised he'd taken the time to ask someone about it, and I could tell he was worried about my reaction, but I wanted to put him at ease. "Look, Doc…Jean-Luc, I appreciate it, and I'm sorry about my reaction in there, but you don't need to go out of your way to…"
He held up his hand to stop me. "Colton, son, I'm not doing anything for you I wouldn't do for anyone in my family. Now, Cynthia Vickers, the surgeon, said there are a few options. Laser removal is one option, but it's quite painful and the scarring won't go away. Depending on how many sessions it takes to remove the ink, it could actually get worse, so I'd say that's not something you'd want." I nodded.
"Another method is IPLT, which is Intense Pulse Light Therapy. It's less painful, and she says it works better, but it's extremely expensive. It can cost up to ten dollars a pulse and going in, there's no way of knowing how many pulses would be necessary to remove the ink." That sounded like an open-ended, money-sucking option, not that any of them were up my alley because I was sure my mother's health insurance wouldn't cover any of it. Even if it did, my mom would have to find out what happened and that was the last thing I wanted.
"Sorry, Doc, not independently wealthy," I commented. He nodded and went on.
"There are topical creams, but the effectiveness is sketchy. There's actual surgery, which can do more damage than good, but she suggested something I hadn't considered." I looked at him, waiting with bated breath. If he had something I could do which wouldn't cause me to have to prostitute myself to pay for it, I was eager to hear it.
"A tattoo. Working with a good artist, you could design something that would hide the ink and the scarring. It could be incorporated into a design, and nobody would ever notice it. I'd say…well, talk to Les, but I think you'd be reclaiming your back.
“I mean, if you covered it with something of your own design which means something to you, I'm not saying it would take away the pain of the incident, but it would be yours. Maybe I'm wrong, but I thought I'd mention it to you as something to consider," he finished.
It was definitely something to consider. "I, uh, I never thought about anything like that. I wouldn't know what to put back there. I'd like it to cover that whole thing, and maybe I can get this bite mark covered as well," I commented as I pointed to the scar. He walked closer and held up his hands. I nodded and he touched it, feeling the rough scar at the top of my shoulder. Andre was careful never to kiss or suck there, and I was grateful. I didn't want the fucking reminder.
"Our daughter, Annalee, is a graphic designer. If you ever decide you want to take that step, I can put you in touch with her and she could maybe design something that's personal for you. She did this for me," he stated as he pulled up his t-shirt, showing me his left shoulder. There were two cherubs on it, one a girl and one a boy which I guessed represented Andre and Annalee. They were looking at each other with smiles, and beneath each was a date. I assumed they were birthdates. They were pretty damn cool and totally unexpected.
He then dropped his shirt and took off his wedding ring, showing me a tat on his left ring finger. It was Les' name and a date which circled his finger. "Anna designed this one as well. I have to take off my wedding ring for surgery, but I'm always a married man." Then, he leaned forward. "It doesn't hurt to have my anniversary date tattooed there either. Never missed one yet," he joked, which made me laugh, relieving the tension.
"Thanks, Doc. That's something I'll definitely think about." He patted my shoulder and we walked back inside. Andre was at the counter mixing something, and when he saw us come back in, he grinned and winked at me.
"There's my man. Come here," he ordered.
I walked over to him and touched his hip. "What time did you finally get to bed? I'm sorry I asked you to stay," he whispered as he laid out thick bread on a baking sheet and covered it with a yellow mixture. He turned to me and waited.
I leaned forward and pecked him on the lips, hooking my fingers in the loops on his khaki shorts to pull him closer. "I woke up in your bed at seven. I was able to sneak back to my room and get a shower and stuff. Your mom was up when I came down. You, my dear boyfriend, were out like a light," I whispered as he smiled cockily.
"I don't doubt it. You fucked me into a coma." I cracked up, catching attention from his parents.
"They're cute," I heard his mother comment. I felt my face flush, but she already knew what had happened so it was too late to worry about it.
I looked at Andre to see the unmistakable look of a man in love. Throwing caution to the wind, I leaned forward and kissed him again, though chastely. When I pulled away, I whispered, "I love you, but I'm fucking starving. Remember, I worked up quite an appetite last night."
He laughed an
d went back to cooking, and when the food was put on the table, I nearly came in my shorts at the taste of the French toast. Oh, he was going to make it again when we got back to school. It was a secret that shouldn't have been kept.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“California Has Worn Me Quite Thin…”
-- Jimmy Buffett
I flopped on the bed in the spare room, completely exhausted. It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Andre had gone to get his haircut. Thankfully, he wasn't offended when I begged off going with him. I had a lot to think about, and I was grateful for the time alone.
I thought about all the information Jean-Luc had given me that morning regarding my back. The tattoo was looking like the way to go but what to put there? Hell, I have no idea.
Meeting Eve Brownley had been quite a lesson in not judging a book by its cover. She was in her mid-forties and she was definitely manlier than me. She had very short hair and a large design tattooed on her chest. She was wearing a tank top so I could only see the top of it, but I could see it was some sort of goddess, maybe Hindi? I wasn’t really knowledgeable about goddesses.
During my therapy session with Eve, I'd not only learned how to prune roses but I'd learned her strategy for my therapy after I told her what had happened to me. My parents weren't the issue at all. It was what had happened to me that night in my dorm room, and how I was going to deal with it going forward. When she asked me questions I wasn't prepared to answer at the moment, she’d say, "Let's put a pin in that for now and come back to it at a later date." I appreciated it because she gave me a lot of shit to think about it.
Eve also gave me homework. I was to make a list of traits of my three selves. I didn't realize I had three selves, but when she explained it, I got her point.
"I want you to make three lists of the phases of your life. I want you to describe Before Colton, the guy you were before that night. I want you to list what you liked about him and what you disliked about him. I want to get a sense of who you were before this happened.
"I want you to describe After Colton, the guy you are now. I want you to give me words regarding what you like about yourself and what you don't like about yourself right now.
"Then, I want you to make a list for Future Colton, the guy you'd like to become. I want to know what about Before Colton and After Colton you want to retain, and what you want to leave behind. The lists can be as long or short as they need to be, but I want you to put some thought into them."
I nodded when we set the schedule of phone calls for Wednesday afternoon, my day off, and Saturday afternoon. She gave me about a dozen different ways to reach her and she actually gave me a bear hug before she walked around the back of the large, blue house and hopped into a pickup truck, driving away.
After Eve left, Les Dupree reminded me she would also be available to talk with me 24/7, for whatever reason I needed her. I actually hugged her before we went to help my bitching boyfriend and his father hang the Christmas lights around their home.
Apparently, they put their tree up on Christmas Eve, but Les told me she decorated every day from Thanksgiving until Christmas Eve. I was sorry I wouldn't see the finished product because I'd be in Unionville for Christmas with my mom, but Les promised to remind Andre to take pictures for me.
Just as I was dozing off for my nap, my phone rang. I picked it up from its place on the nightstand where it was charging to see it was my mother. "Hey, Momma," I greeted cheerily.
"Colt, honey, how are ya? How was Thanksgiving?" She knew I was going with Andre to California because I'd called her so she wouldn't worry. She didn't know however, I'd fallen in love with the man.
"It was really nice, Momma. Mrs. Dupree's a very kind woman and has made me feel very welcome," I answered honestly.
"I'm glad. I vaguely remember her and Dr. Dupree. Wasn't she a doctor of some sort?" Mom asked. Apparently, I was the only one who didn't know about Les' career.
"Uh, yeah, she's a psychiatrist. How was the parade? Everything else okay? Are you and Zoey getting along?" I asked.
"The parade was good, but it's awfully cold here. We went to a fancy buffet for dinner, even though I offered to cook. Your sister didn't want the leftovers if you can imagine that. Anyway, we went to see 'Phantom of the Opera' yesterday. It was amazing. Today, we took the ferry out to Liberty Island and did a bit of sightseeing.
"Zoey has a date tonight so I'm going to rest up from all of the activity, but I'll be heading home tomorrow. What time’s your flight back?" she asked.
"We get back at noon. I've got homework, so we're leaving at ten. What time do you get in?" I asked, wondering if I could wait for her at the airport before she made the long drive back to Unionville. I'd missed her.
"Oh, honey, I get in at three o'clock. I wish I had time to drop by the university to see you, but I've got to work on Monday. Actually, it's a double, so I need to get to bed early," she informed.
I sighed. "Momma, why don't you pay the damn house off and stop working double shifts? You know you don't have to," I argued.
She laughed her familiar, warm laugh. "Colton that money is for you, your sister, and my retirement. As long as I'm able to work, I'm not going to be foolish with money. Your daddy worked hard for that money, and I won't disrespect him by going on a spending frenzy."
"Fine, but get a new car, Momma. It doesn't have to be anything fancy, but that car is on its last leg. I'll take a second job, or drop out of college altogether to buy you a car if I have to," I threatened.
She giggled. "Don't you do such a thing, Colton. I've been looking at cars on the internet to see what's going to work the best, so it's not as if I haven't been thinking about it. Now, when are ya coming home?" she asked.
I stilled my nerves and answered, "Actually, if you don't have to work, I'd like to come home next weekend and put up the Christmas lights. I asked Dre to come with me."
I nervously waited for her to answer. After a few seconds, she did. "That's sweet of you. I'll make sure I'm off on…when are ya coming?"
I was relieved. "We should get there sometime Friday evening. We're aiming for dinner time. That okay?" I asked. I needed to tell her he was my boyfriend, but maybe it was better to tell her in person?
"I'll fry chicken. I can't wait to see you, Colt. I've missed my baby boy," she gushed. I knew my face was glowing, but she was "Momma." She loved me and always made sure I knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
"You, too. Tell Zoey I said hi."
I heard a bell ding in the background. "I will. I think that's her young man. I'm going to let ya go so I can meet him. She's tryin' to get out of it, but you know me better than that. I can't wait to meet your young man either…well, officially. Love you."
"Uh, yeah, Momma. Love you, too," I responded, stunned at her skills of perception. I'd have to quiz her on how she knew Andre was "my young man." She had to be psychic.
"Love, it looks great," Andre repeated…for likely the tenth time. I was fucking with my hair, and he'd brought home some sort of shit from the salon that was supposed to help with the curls. When I looked at my hair in the mirror, I looked like a fucking poodle.
"Nope," I replied, digging through my bag and pulling out an elastic band. I combed it again and pulled it back securely. It wasn't exactly perfect, but it was out of the way.
He walked up behind me, keeping a bit of distance and placed his hands on my shoulders, slowly. "Now, it looks perfect. Can I kiss your neck?" he asked.
I smiled and backed into his body. He didn't move his hands but he did swoop down and lick my neck on the opposite side as the scar. I was grateful, and it reminded me I wanted to talk to him about what his father had told me regarding a tattoo. I didn't know how he felt about them, and it mattered to me. Just because his father had a couple didn't mean Andre liked them. I would ultimately make the decision on my own, unlike Before Colton, but I did want to know his opinion on the matter.
His eyes met mine in the mirror as he sucked a little. I k
new what he was doing. He was marking me because we were going to a club, and I had every intention of doing the same thing to him. His eyes were questioning, and I smiled. "Go ahead, but I'm doing the same to you, babe." He moaned and turned me around to face him, resuming his place on my neck as his arms wrapped around me.
Thankfully, I could reach his at the same time, so I sucked the tender skin into my mouth and tugged it with my teeth, hearing a very pleasing sound of desire from him. I sucked the skin into my mouth and then released it, slathering my tongue over it to soothe it. We pulled away at the same time, and as childish as it was, we turned to look into the mirror, comparing markings.
I looked into his eyes, and we both laughed. "Fine, I can't stamp my name on your forehead, but I can definitely let the guys know you belong to me. If they dispute it, I'll show my matching one, and they'll know I'm yours and you're mine," he reasoned.
I turned around and wrapped my arms around his ass, squeezing it a bit. "How's this feeling?" I asked.
He smiled. "I've been deliciously reminded all day long that my man is hung. Trust me, what you did to me last night was worth a little limp this morning. Dad teased the shit out of me while we were hanging the lights. I have a feeling he knows what happened last night."
I felt oddly proud he had a little limp, and I didn't let my mind wander too far down the path of how it felt to walk the next day. The implications of that thought process would put me under the bed.
I shrugged it off and smiled. "Your mom heard us and it actually came out during my therapy session with Eve. I didn’t mean to tell her because I believe it’s a private thing between us, but she said she was glad I told her we’d taken the step.
"So, Colton you've embarked on a new chapter with your boyfriend. How do you feel about it?" I looked at her like she was crazy after I’d just explained to her that Andre and I had been intimate the previous night.
"Well, Miss Brownley, I was nervous because my history with the act isn't exactly stellar, but we talked about it and we took our time."
Swim Coach: A Novel Page 19