Wake Me with a Kiss

by Mila Summers

  In the last months of exams, we were an inseparable dream team, although only where it had to do with our studies. Our friendship wasn't exactly established, but I would call her later anyway. As far as I could remember, she was living with her husband in Chicago.

  Hopefully she could take me in for a few days. If not, it was looking pretty bad for me.

  Mitch also seemed to be deep in thought. His gaze was focused unyieldingly on the road ahead of us. He was wearing sunglasses so I couldn't tell what he was thinking. But I knew that something was up from his tense posture. He cleared his throat again and again while he opened his mouth slightly, as if he wanted to say something. But then his mouth would close and he'd drive on, as if it were nothing.

  On the one hand, I was grateful that he didn't say anything about the overtures in the diner. On the other hand, it was insulting. First he flirts with me - well, maybe the whole thing was mutual - and I'm hoping that we'll meet up again and now he's sitting there, barely noticing me.

  What a strange guy. Maybe it's better that way. If he had kept beaming at me that way, I would definitely have succumbed to his charm. What a fabulous idea that would have been.

  With some effort, I fished my smartphone out of my bag to send Lindsey a text. Hopefully, the number was still current. We had barely been in contact the past few months. I tensely considered how I could squeeze my whole situation in a couple of lines without looking too hopeless. But I still had to make the urgency of my request clear. It made me want to tear my hair out.

  I typed nervously, holding my index finger to my lower lip, waiting for the right words to come to me. This really shouldn't be so hard. While I grimly stared at the little keyboard display, Mitch cleared his throat for what seemed like the hundredth time. But this time, that wasn't all he did. Slowly, he began to speak. Too bad. It would have been better for him to keep quiet.

  Chapter 3

  "You would like me to do what? You can't seriously mean that," I shrieked indignantly after Mitch made an immoral offer.

  "It would only be for a week. Come on, Stacy. You'd be doing me a huge favor. Think about it. Besides, we're not going to hurt anybody," Mitch tried to placate me.

  "I really can't understand why you want to dupe your family that way. What is wrong with you?" I refused to show any understanding.

  "It would stop the constant gossip and the endless questions and I could maybe spend a pleasant week in the circle of my loved ones. After my little sister gets married in next couple of days, it's going to be nothing but annoying comments about my relationship status. You have no idea how stressful that is. I have to continually justify myself, while nobody really has any interest in why I consciously chose to be single." With those words, he started me thinking.

  I would be very interested in knowing why Mitch stayed single. What caused him to be alone? I hadn't seen him as a womanizer who picked up someone every week just to get her into bed. No, I really didn't see him that way. But why was I so sure? I had known him for too short a time to be able to form a picture of him. However, I was convinced that there had to be another reason.

  "I would love to listen to annoying questions from my family. But unfortunately there isn't anybody left, except for my aunt. Do you actually know how good you have it? They only want to know how you're doing. They want to be a part of your life. I don't think it's ok when you step all over their feelings." I remained firm.

  "Please, Stacy."

  In the meantime, Mitch drove off the highway and stopped at a small rest area. He took off his sunglasses and looked into my eyes with a deep sadness. His affectionate "please, Stacy" resonated like a mantra in my head. As if I were under hypnosis, I finally answered.

  "Ok, I'll do it. But only under one condition." I released myself from his gaze with difficulty and fixed on a point between his eyes so I could remain steadfast.

  "Anything you want," I heard Mitch rejoice.

  "When I leave you after this week is over, you will not contact me again and you will come clean with your family. Deal?"

  It was a big risk. Actually, I should have kept my mouth shut. But in the end I urgently needed the $500 which he offered for this plan. The seven days would pass quickly and the exact details still needed to be clarified. I did not even know his family, but I felt a strong desire to show Mitch how good he had it.

  Completely unexpectedly, and from my point of view maybe a shade too quickly, I heard his decision. "Deal."

  I had made a pact. I could only hope that it wasn't with the devil. Nevertheless, my deeds would take me to hell. I was sure of that. Why in the world did I let myself get involved in this shitty plan?

  Mitch turned the radio up and whistled the tune of the song, which had been playing on and off for the past few weeks by all of the stations. I couldn't listen to it any more. The same racket, over and over. Besides, I wasn't happy that Mitch seemed so thrilled.

  "I think there are still some things that we should discuss," I pointed out sullenly.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, banal things like where did we meet? When did we become a couple? The usual things that your family would ask about if you suddenly marched into your home with a companion and you introduce the woman at your side as your girlfriend."

  "Oh, that's what you mean. Ok. If you like. Let's talk about it. I thought you just wanted to know what particular services I expect for my generous compensation," he grinned at me mischievously, giving me a suggestive wink.

  "Funny. You don't really get it. If you even think about doing anything indecent, I will tell your family what a totally awesome son and brother they have." I crossed my arms, fuming with rage.

  "Oh. I had no idea that you were surrounded with the aura of Mother Teresa. Interesting choice of words: indecent! Were you in a convent school or why is it exactly that you throw around antiquated phrases like that?"

  That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

  "I'm done here. I'm not going to play along any more. Look for another fool to play your little game. Let me off at the next gas station!" I demanded adamantly.

  "Oh, come on, Stacy. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. But what do you imagine my parents will think when I waltz in, newly in love, and I never take my girlfriend in my arms or give her a kiss?"

  "I was brought up Catholic. No sex before marriage. It would be a good argument. No way am I going to kiss you. For all I care, you can hug me but not anything more. No hand-holding and no pats on the rear. Just so that's all clear!" I tried to keep the upper hand.

  "Ok, ok. I'll make it clear to my parents that I've fallen in love with an iron maiden. You'll get your own room and the most I'll do is to kiss you on the cheek. How's that?"

  "That's better."

  ***

  Well, good. That's all worked out. That babe would make a first-class girlfriend. She's pretty much an exact match for what you'd call his type. Casual, delicate, cute. That was all that he cared about. He didn't have any soft spots for a particular hair color or anything like that. He didn't like that kind of macho posturing.

  Besides, Stacy seemed to have a quick tongue. He found it downright thrilling how she would answer back to him. He wasn't familiar with that. With Samantha it had been different. She acted as if she wanted the same things he did. Until one evening, not even three months ago.

  He pushed the images aside. The memory hurt too much. On the radio the national anthem of Alabama, "Sweet Home Alabama" was playing and he refocused on the essentials.

  In few minutes they would reach his parents' house. Then it would be necessary to put up a brave front and make sure that nobody noticed anything.

  He had no doubts about Stacy. She would hold to their agreement. It was really too bad that he had met her just now. She seemed nice. Maybe he would have given her a chance if the thing with Samantha hadn't happened. But for now he would keep her at a distance. That would be the best thing for both of them.

  ***

  "What
are your parents' names?" I broke the silence, which had become oppressive, settling between us.

  "Who?"

  "Well, the people who raised you. What are their names? You know, the people who brought you into this world, those whose hearts you're about to break."

  "Oh, them. Mom and Dad."

  "Ha, ha, ha. Really funny," I answered irritably.

  "Come on. It was funny."

  "I didn't think so."

  "Not even a little bit?"

  "Well, ok. Maybe a teeny tiny bit," I felt defeated. "But what are their names? Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?"

  "Abigail and James. My parents are named Abigail and James Havisham. My father is a retired tax collector and my mom is a housewife. She volunteers in a lot of associations. They both like to travel to foreign countries and on Sunday afternoon there is always coffee and cake at 4 pm on the dot. Come hell or high water. At least, it's always been that way since I can remember."

  "Ok, Abigail and James. I should be able to remember that. And what is your sister's name?"

  "I have two. The one getting married in a couple of days is Sue and the other is Emily. They are twins."

  "Noted. Is there anybody else who I'm supposed to know about?"

  "Buzz. He is somebody special. He doesn't get on with everybody, but once he takes you into his heart, he doesn't let you go easily."

  "How old is Buzz? It sounds as if he is still fairly young."

  "Buzz is older than I am. He must be at least fourteen or fifteen this year."

  "You're pulling my leg again. You know, if the whole week is going to go this way, then I'd prefer to just hit the road here and now. I can do without these kinds of jokes. I don't need to be led down the garden path by a joker like you. My time is too valuable for that."

  "Sorry, Stacy. This is as about as clear as mud to me. What have I done now to annoy you? Buzz is a Jack Russell. After going back and forth about it for a long time, on my thirteen birthday I finally got a dog from my old man. Yep, and that was Buzz."

  "Ah, ok. Buzz is a dog." Now I really couldn't keep the laughter down.

  "What did you think?"

  In spite of the misunderstandings and the joshing, the mood between us was good-natured again. If we were going to insist on being so close in front of an audience, we really needed to be on good terms.

  It wasn't up to me to build up the relationship with him. In that way, I was being pretty realistic about the whole thing. We had an arrangement. I would play his girlfriend for a week and in return, he would pay me for that. No more and no less.

  With the money, I could then look for a room and gradually canvas the area for potential employers. Maybe this was a stroke of luck. You should never give up hope.

  If I couldn't find a job, then I could always go back to Aunt Anne, to that sleepy town which I had called my home for almost eight years. But then I would have at least tried and not just expected fate to be knocking on my door.

  "We're here," I heard Mitch say.

  I pushed the thoughts about my uncertain future to the side and was surprised when we stopped at a large iron gate. The magnificently wrought escutcheons gave me a vague idea of what was going to be expected from me.

  "Is this your parents' house?" I asked surprised.

  In my imagination, I had thought Mitch's family would have a small, cozy home. An old rocking chair stood on the veranda and the paint on the wooden façade had begun to crack. The sight of the double doors opening on their own, which granted us admission to the immense premises, revealed to me that I had been pretty much off the mark with my assessment.

  "Tell me, Mitch. Would you maybe explain to me what's going on?" I was in a light panic. A sudden anxiety seized my whole body and I had great difficulty keeping myself from gnawing on my finger nails.

  "Well, this is the thing. My parents are quite wealthy, you should know. But not to worry. We are completely normal people. We don't eat off golden plates and we don't constantly drink champagne."

  "Funny. Easy for you to say. You lured me here under false pretenses. Look at me. No way can I show myself like this to your parents for the first time. My shorts are faded and my shirt has holes, to say nothing of my sneakers. Besides, I desperately need a shower. What were you thinking?"

  "What? I never claimed to be destitute. That was just what you were thinking. Besides, I think your getup is totally fine. What concern is it of yours, what my parents think of you? If you remember, our little arrangement is for a limited period. As for your personal hygiene, first, I could smell you pretty well for the entire drive," he gave me a meaningful grin. "And second, you can go freshen up right after we are all introduced. That will be the perfect excuse to get some peace and quiet. It'll be fine. My parents are really not rich snobs. Not to worry."

  Strangely enough, his words calmed me. My panic drifted away and I felt my body begin to relax. It had been a long time since anyone had this effect on me.

  Besides, I didn't care what his parents thought of me. In one week, I would be gone and presumably I would never see them again. However, it felt like a stab in the heart that he said how things stood so clearly.

  "Stacy? Is everything ok with you?"

  "Yes, I think so."

  "What do you mean? Do we want to do this?"

  "Regarding wanting, I wouldn't say that. I merely feel obligated to hold to my part of the agreement," I stodgily went on the record. I kept it to myself that I urgently needed the $500.

  "Well, I'll see that we get through this as fast as possible. I wouldn't want to be at fault if you were neglecting your obligations."

  At that, he stepped on the gas and rushed up the drive to his parents' house at lightning speed - somewhat too fast by my standards. So I no longer had the chance to get an overview of the surroundings.

  As we arrived at the top, the view of the colossus of white stone almost blew me over, with its covered classical portico with columns. The house was at least as big as the White House, if not larger. Innumerable tall windows lined the front of the premises. A small fountain was set before the building, which diligently catapulted small jets of water into the air.

  So this was it. This is where I was going to live. This would be my home for the next seven days.

  Mitch turned off the engine and threw me an encouraging glance. Then he climbed out, walked around the car, and like a total gentleman, opened the door for me. As he then offered me his hand and made ready to help me get out, a feeling flashed through me that I preferred to keep a secret.

  Together we walked the few steps up to the house door. As we arrived on the terrace, my stomach rebelled and I felt like I was about to throw up. There was no going back now. In just a few seconds we were there. I would meet Mitch's parents, perpetrate a hoax on them, and shamefully abuse their hospitality.

  Mitch sensed my inner turmoil. After he fished his key out of his pocket and pushed it into the lock, he looked at me again, took my hand as if it was the natural thing to do and held it tenderly.

  I did not resist. Nevertheless, his physical proximity threw me off course to the extent that I didn't come to my senses until I heard him call out.

  "Mom? Dad? We're here!"

  Chapter 4

  "I'm coming right down," a melodic voice sounded from the upper floor. The sight of the enormous foyer and the imposing stone spiral staircase winding up to the second floor took my breath away.

  I had already felt uneasy at the marvelously wrought iron gate and now I desperately wished for a mouse hole that I could crawl into.

  I attentively scanned my surroundings, my mouth open. Every single object seemed to be sinfully expensive, to say nothing of the precious marble floor. An enormous chandelier hung over everything, the crystal drops extending deep into the room.

  The entryway alone was larger than the house which I had shared with Aunt Anne. This realization did not particularly help me to feel more at home. As I considered if it wouldn't be better t
o simply leave, I heard Mitch answer.

  "Ok, Mom. We're going into the library."

  "We?" the disbelieving outcry of his mother echoed loudly in the hall.

  Before Mitch could say anything, a petite form not more than five foot two came running down the stairs. With each of her hurried steps, I worried she would slip and fall on the smooth stone stairs. As her curls bobbed up and down in unison with her rhythmic movements, it created a whimsical effect and I could suppress a chuckle only with difficulty.

  As she came within a few feet of us, her smile seemed to lighten the entire room. Without looking at her son, she rushed up to me and hugged me tightly in her arms.

  Since I towered over Abigail by almost a head, I glanced over at Mitch, somewhat shocked, but his expression told me that his mother's behavior was completely normal.

  Well, perhaps for him but not for me. One more minute in this vice grip and I couldn't guarantee what I would do next. As it got more difficult to breathe, he showed me some pity and finally said something.

  "Hey Mom, could you please let Stacy go? You're crushing her. You know, I still need her," as he looked at me searchingly. Obviously he was interested in what I thought about his last sentence. I didn't react, but I looked directly into his mother's face as she exuberantly welcomed me into her home.

  "Stacy, please excuse the dramatic reception. You should know that Mitch has never brought a girlfriend home before." She turned to her son and admonished him, shaking her finger at him.

  "Why didn't you say that you were bringing company? Then the entire family could have come to meet your girlfriend."

  Slowly but surely, I was getting a feeling for what Mitch had tried to explain to me about his family during our drive. I was beginning to strongly doubt that bringing a female home with him was going to get him out of the line of fire, though.

  "Mom, I didn't want to make a big thing out of this. After all, Sue is getting married in a few days. The main attraction should be the wedding, not Stacy and me. Don't you think?" Mitch tried to take the wind out of his mother's sails.