By a Thread

by R. L. Griffin

  “I’ll get the first round,” Stella said. “Regular for everybody?” Everyone at the table nodded, except for Lisa. “What do you want, Lisa?”

  “What kind of wine do they have?” Lisa was looking at the table for the menu.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s an Irish bar. I wouldn’t drink the wine they serve here.”

  “Just get me whatever they have in white wine, Stella,” she said, throwing daggers at Stella with her eyes.

  Stella walked over to the bar and leaned in, looking down the bar at George and Hazel. Hazel started down her way, but George walked past her telling her he’d get it. He smirked at her. “Hi. What can I do for you El?” His tone was teasing.

  “Many, many things, George.” Now his smile was so big she saw the dimple on his right cheek.

  “But... for now, I just need drinks. The regular for everyone, except the hanger-on wants white wine. Give her the cheapest, nastiest you got.”

  George laughed and started collecting the drinks. She took the drinks over to the table two by two. At the last round, he caught her hand. “I missed you last night.”

  “We’ll catch up tonight.” She turned.

  “Count on it,” he said over the music.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Hey,” she leaned over the bar and whispered in his ear. Her breath warm on his ear, her lips grazing his ear.

  “Meet me in the office in five minutes,” he answered gruffly.

  Stella adjusted her halter top and pulled her jeans up. Her blush started in her chest and spread slowly across her face. “Okay.”

  In a few minutes she made her way toward the bathroom. George appeared a minute later and pushed her into the office, covering her mouth with his. His hands all over her, she felt a slow burn across her body. Stella was a little sore since she hadn’t had sex in so long, but it was a feeling reminding her of their nights together and she welcomed it. She breathed in his scent, spice and sweat. The combination was enough to send her over the edge.

  “Oh, you’re good with doing this here tonight?” She asked as he unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down to her knees.

  “We aren’t doing anything,” he pulled down her panties and made his way down her body.

  Later, Stella stretched her arms over her head and leaned from side to side, her shirt inching up her stomach and exposing a little skin. George leaned over the bar. “You better stop teasing me,” he whispered in her ear. She pulled her shirt down and glanced around.

  “I wasn’t trying to tease you,” she said innocently.

  “Hey, tomorrow is my day off. Let’s go to the Cherry Blossom Festival.” George’s eyes lit up when he spoke.

  “Um,” Stella didn’t know, that sounded an awful lot like a date.

  “Oh come on, El.” George rolled his eyes. “How about this? I’ll be sitting at a bench behind the Roosevelt Memorial overlooking the Tidal Basin in front of the Jefferson Memorial at 12:00 tomorrow. I hope you can make it.” He pushed himself off the bar and walked to the other side, not giving her a chance to respond.

  About that time, Patrick and Billy entered the bar and took up the two seats on either side of her. “What up, fools?” she asked.

  “Yo,” Billy answered giving her a one-arm hug. Neither Patrick nor Billy had seen much of Stella this year due to her hectic schedule with school and work. They had to arrange this night of drinking.

  “You look good,” Patrick said kissing her cheek. Stella glanced at George, hoping she didn’t give off the just-fucked glow.

  “It’ll be nice to blow off a little steam tonight. I’m feeling a little crazy with school. I’m having to go to school, work, and read like 200 pages a night. It’s impossible.” Stella took a drink. “How’s Lisa?”

  “Oh, let’s not waste time on the unpleasant,” Billy interjected.

  “Shut up, dude.” Patrick said leaning in to look Billy in the eye.

  “I’m just saying, she’s the same.” He smiled and winked at Stella.

  “How’d you get permission to come out tonight?”

  “She’s coming over later,” Patrick answered, looking down.

  “Of course,” Stella said.

  They drank at the bar for several hours before they left to meet Lisa at their house. Billy was working on a big anti-trust investigation and would be in Houston for the rest of the month. He was leaving tomorrow. Patrick’s job was clicking along, nothing that exciting to talk about. Stella’s life was hectic but boring, if she had to describe it to other people. Billy and Patrick’s eyes glazed over when she started talking about all the papers she was working on and the legal issues that she was addressing at work. When they got up to leave, she waved at George.

  Sunday a few minutes after noon, she finally found a parking spot around the memorials. She cursed at being late and had to jog over to the Roosevelt Memorial to make sure she got there before George thought she stood him up. This time of year in DC was gorgeous. The Japanese cherry blossom trees in the Mall area of the city were all blooming, depending on the weather, and it was a canopy of light pink petals. The festival had food, drinks, art, and music. When she saw George sitting on a bench looking out at the Tidal Basin surrounding the Jefferson Memorial, she smiled to herself. He was wearing loose-fitting jeans, flip-flops and a Nationals T-shirt, but he looked perfect. He looked up at her when he heard her approach.

  “I wondered if you were going to show.” George patted the bench next to him.

  Sitting, she took in the paddle boats coasting along in the Tidal Basin and the crowds of families and other people enjoying the view of the historic trees.

  “I brought us a little lunch,” he said smiling and lifting a picnic basket.

  “You have a picnic basket?” She laughed.

  “Sure, don’t you?” George asked sarcastically.

  “Nope.”

  “I thought everyone had them, at least that’s what my sisters tell me.” George blushed a little.

  “I don’t know anyone with a picnic basket.” She laughed.

  “Now you do. If you ever need one, you can borrow mine.” He gave her his full-on dimpled smile.

  “Do you have a blanket too?”

  “Of course, what self respecting adult would have a basket and no blanket?” he asked indignantly.

  “But of course,” she replied. “Come, George, feed me grapes on your picnic blanket.”

  George’s face looked crestfallen, “I was hoping you would feed me grapes.”

  “Whatever you want,” she replied.

  George grabbed the basket and her hand and led her over to where the cherry blossom trees were thick in the small area between the Jefferson Memorial and the Korean Memorial. The ground was covered in what looked like pink snow. George spread the blanket and they sat side by side, their thighs touching. He started pulling out food in little containers and placing them on the blanket.

  “What if I didn’t show? This is a lot of food.” Stella pointed at the plethora of containers scattering the blanket.

  He genuinely laughed, “I’m sure I could’ve talked some pretty little thing into sharing with me.” He shrugged his shoulders. He voice dropped lower, “I didn’t know what you liked.”

  “I like most food,” she answered, popping opening a container. Holding the orange spread up to her nose she giggled, “What do you know about pimento cheese?”

  “I appreciate Southern delicacies.” He unscrewed the pinot noir he brought and pulled out solo cups. Filling up the cups, he looked around mischievously. “You know alcohol isn’t allowed on the Mall.”

  “I’ve broken that law before.” She winced, sort of remembering her alcohol-filled first Fourth of July on The Mall. It was embarrassing to remember, Patrick having to escort her out of the family-friendly event due to her excessive cussing.

  “I’m not surprised.” He took a sip and lay back on his elbows, his long legs crossed in front of him. “So, El, how’s school?”

  “Ugh, anything
but that,” she said waving off his question. “My life sucks right now...” his eyes went wide, “...with the exception of this.” She pointed at them both several times.

  “Glad I’m the only bright light in your life right now.” He opened the rest of the containers.

  “Tell me about what is going on in the real world. I haven’t seen the news in weeks.”

  He laughed and pulled out the Washington Post from his basket. “Looks like you’re in luck.”

  She lay on her back watching the blossoms floating on the wind as George read her the newspaper, while stroking her hair. Every once in a while she would glance at him and smile, perfectly content.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Stella woke in the morning with a familiar warmth on her left shoulder, she sighed and turned over placing George’s hand on her right boob instead. George opened one eye and peered at her. “Hi,” he said sheepishly.

  “You broke our rule.” Stella was still holding his hand on her boob, looking into his grey green eyes.

  “Your rule,” George answered.

  “George, we agreed.” Her brain was going a mile a minute.

  “No, El we didn’t.” George pulled her closer and caressed her breast and kissed her.

  “George, I don’t think we ought to go there.”

  “So, I can spend the night from now on?” George pushed.

  “No,” Stella still grasped his hand, not letting go.

  “El... Then we are going there. I want to wake up with you and be able to see the sleep in your eyes, desire evident in your body. Just like now.” He reached down in between her legs. She gasped, her head going back exposing her neck.

  “This is so hard.” Stella was turned on, but she was fighting her brain that was telling her to cut this off immediately.

  “Well something’s hard…” he started laughing, “but it’s not me and you, love.” He kissed her forehead. “We have something. We don’t have to label it or call it anything. I just want to spend the entire night with you.”

  “I know what you’re doing. You just keep pushing.” Stella blew her bangs out of her face. “Why do you even want to bother with me?”

  “I have faith in you. I knew a long time ago, you and I will end up together. You just haven’t figured it out yet. You make me laugh and you’re crazy smart. You like football. Your boobs look like that,” he pointed to her breasts, then flipped her over. “And your ass is awesome.”

  She laughed. “You’re ridiculous.” She turned to face away from him, “I don’t know how to do this, George. I’ve been numb for so long, I don’t even know how to feel things.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “Oh, I know I can make you feel things.”

  “ ‘nother one.” Stella raised her hand and pointed her finger at George.

  “El, I think you’ve had enough love, don’t you?” George, the bartender, walked over to the slumped figure at the end of his bar. “It’s Tuesday, don’t you have school and work tomorrow?”

  “So,” Stella blurted. “Come on George, one more and then I will walk home.” Stella had been sitting on the bar stool for three hours, drinking by herself.

  “What has gotten you so down love?”

  “Pour me another one and then we can talk about it.” She smiled and could see he was melting. George had to be talked into the last three drinks. He pushed the Crown and ginger ale over to her and leaned against the bar, putting his face level with hers.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I got my grades from last semester.” She put her head down on the bar and said something incoherent.

  “What?” George leaned closer, he could smell the coconut fragrance from her and smiled unconsciously.

  “I got a C in Intellectual Property,” she wailed.

  George shot up off the bar and looked at her, dazed. Then he leaned his head back and offered her the biggest laugh she had seen from him in awhile. “For fuck’s sake, El. I thought your dog had died or you were pregnant or something.”

  “Um, I hope you wouldn’t think I would drink this much if I was pregnant,” she laughed.

  “Whatever, you know what I mean. Shit.” George continued to laugh as he took more drink orders and moved to the other side of the bar. Then he called to her, “Forgot to tell you I called your mom...” he laughed some more.

  “NO!” She put her head back on the bar, where it actually felt much better. A few minutes passed before she felt a very large hand on her head.

  “El? You okay?”

  She looked under her arm and saw Patrick and his girlfriend, Lisa standing off to her left. It was difficult, but she raised her head. “Shit. I’m so sorry George called ya’ll.”

  “Come on.” Patrick said, running his hand through his hair and throwing some cash on the bar, “Thanks, George.”

  “Stella, why are drinking by yourself? On a Tuesday? That seems a bit much.” Lisa picked up Stella’s purse and headed out the door. She didn’t even wait for an answer.

  “I made a C in Intellectual Property,” she whispered.

  “It’s okay, El.” Patrick put his arm around her shoulder and led her toward the door.

  Stella looked back and yelled, “George. You shit. I’m finding a new place to drink by myself.”

  “I hope not, El.” He winked at her.

  She let Patrick lead her to his car and climbed in the back. Immediately Lisa started talking. “Patrick, you know, Stella is a big girl. She doesn’t need you to rescue her all the time.” Lisa looked towards the backseat to see if Stella had passed out yet. Continuing on her tangent, Stella tuned her out for most of the car ride home.

  “For once, I agree with Lisa,” Stella forced out and then looked out the window and blocked out the argument she’d caused in the front seat. As soon as they pulled in the driveway, she tried to get out of the backseat, but was locked in.

  “Damn it, unlock the door, I think I’m going to vomit.” The locks immediately released and Stella opened the door.

  Just the brisk fall air made her feel better. Patrick went around to help her out of the car. “Shit, I’m not that drunk. I can walk.” She pulled her arm from his grasp and walked, staggered is more like it, up the stairs to the front door.

  “Hey Billy, you didn’t join the come-get-me party?” Stella yelled as she shuffled through the den into the kitchen.

  “Drink some water, El,” Patrick called from the front of the house.

  “There was a party,” Billy looked up from the video game he was playing.

  “Oh sure,” Patrick said, sitting on the loveseat in the den. “El didn’t invite anyone to it.”

  “Bring me a beer,” Billy yelled from the den as he saw Stella at the fridge. She moved toward the den with two beers. Threw Billy’s at him and then fell into the overstuffed chair where Cooper was laying. She opened her own beer and laid her head back on the chair.

  “This day sucks.”

  “Well at least you didn’t have to walk home,” Patrick said tilting his head to look at her.

  “That was my plan, drink a lot, walk it off on the way home.”

  “Great plan,” Lisa said popping off the couch. “I’m going to bed, you coming?” She looked over her shoulder at Patrick.

  “Yeah, give me a minute,” he answered gruffly.

  Lisa sighed and then made her way back to the back room.

  “El, making a C in the class is not the end of the world.”

  “I’m aware...” her eyes closed as the day’s stress and alcohol settled in. She was sort of embarrassed she was letting a grade get to her. Closing her eyes, she remembered her computer totally cutting off thirty minutes prior to her final being due and she hadn’t backed up her exam. Fucking stupid shit, she thought.

  “You will be fine,” Patrick said.

  “El, you’re like the smartest person I know,” Billy said not taking his eyes off the television.

  “That’s not saying much for you,” she replied. “Enough of this shit, thi
s is why I wanted to drink alone.” She stood up, drained her beer. “Come on, Coop.” Cooper jumped off the chair and followed her as she went through the kitchen. She pulled her shirt off and pants off on the way, throwing both in the laundry room off the kitchen.

  Turning the corner, she heard Lisa grumble, “You know you can wait until you get in your room to undress.”

  “You could stay at your own damn place,” she said loud enough for Lisa and Patrick to hear. She went downstairs into her bedroom and sunk into her bed.

  Sometime in the middle of the night she felt him get into bed with her and snuggle into her back. “If I knew you were going to make regular use of that key I would have made you work harder for it.”

  “Sure you would’ve, love.” He pulled her as close as she could get to him, pressing her back into his chest. He loved that she slept nude, all the time.

  Buzzing woke her up and she looked at the clock. “Mother fucker,” she groaned. “I thought you were going to let me sleep late, asshole.” She pushed herself up and reached up and over George, who had not moved to see his phone vibrating continuously. As she picked it up, her body situated right on top of George he reached for her, pulling her back on top of him.

  “I don’t remember saying that,” he said kissing the underside of her breast.

  Pissed did not begin to described her feeling this morning. George had gotten in her bed, without invitation for that matter, and she allowed him. She had been very drunk and he probably took advantage of that. His early morning alarm clock for her had been pretty nice though. She was stretching in the mirrored area of Washington Sports Club, the gym where she and Patrick were both members and worked out together six days out of the week. He had yelled down this morning saying he was leaving and she barely slid into the car at 7:00 as he took off.

  “Why are you in a mood this morning?” He’d barely let her shut the door before he was backing out of the driveway.

  “I don’t have to time to waste waiting on your ass.”

  “Just my ass,” she laughed, “you can wait on the rest of me though, right?”