by Dee Ernst
“The girls really like it here,” he said. “Amanda has a friend. The twins have fifty friends. And it seems I’ve made one or two myself.”
“Yes, you have. I bet Olivia would do practically anything for you.”
He chuckled. “That’s really not the kind of friendship I’m looking for.”
“What, hot sex with a curvy blond isn’t your thing?”
He shook his head very slowly. “No, actually. It’s not my thing at all.” His hands moved again, just enough that there was now not enough room between our bodies for a caterpillar to crawl through.
I laid my head against his chest and melted into him. His arms tightened. Were we even moving anymore? I think so, in slow circles. I could hear the drumming of his heart and felt his breath in my hair, and in that moment, I felt like I could have stayed there forever.
Then the music changed, and the drummer hit the cymbals, and we practically flew apart, the magic broken.
But it had been there. I felt it, and knew that he had too.
Thank God he had decided to drive, because all I was good for on the way home was hanging my head out the window and singing at the top of my lungs.
It was late. Very late. I knew that he’d texted Amanda on her new phone, and she’d told him that everything and everyone was fine, so he laughed and said, sure, I could have another shot. And then a beer, and then another, and then we danced again, flat footing to Fox on the Run, and Foggy Mountain Breakdown, and The Devil Went Down to Georgia. The band bowed its way out and we were still there, until Wayne had to come out and tell Karen that her birthday was over.
Terri had her golf cart with her, and I knew it was a five-minute drive back to her condo. Stella and Dara had left early, as did Marie, and Terri and Chris talked Karen into going home with them. Olivia had left, but there was another table besides ours that stayed, laughing and talking too far into the night.
Nights without a moon on the Eastern Shore were dark. No one had thought too much about streetlights, and even the state road was pitch black. Luckily, there were always lights on in the church, and Craig didn’t need me to tell him where to turn. Not that I was capable of telling him. As we turned off the highway, I was dangling both of my arms out the window and singing, “Do not forsake me, oh, my darling.”
When we made the turn toward the house, I pulled myself back into the Suburban and put my finger to my lips.
“Shhh. We can’t wake up the girls.”
He chuckled. “No, we can’t. But the dogs might.”
I waved both hands at him. “No. They only bark at strangers in the nighttime. Or squirrels. But squirrels are usually asleep. The raccoons are awake. And listen? Can you hear them?”
He stopped the car and turned off the ignition. We heard the owls.
I got out of the car and and looked out at the Bay. I could barely see the whitecaps as the water hit the shore, and the sky was so dark every star sparkled. As always, it drew me, and I ran to the water’s edge.
There was a stand of white pine close to the bay, and I knew that’s where the owls nested. I stood still, eyes closed, and felt the breeze off the water and heard the lapping of the waves against the rocks, the soft hoot of the owls. Eyes still closed, I started spinning, twirling like I hadn’t done since I was a little girl, opening my eyes suddenly to see the flash of starlight, the glistening of the bay, and Craig’s face. I stopped and stumbled right into his arms, and I reached up and kissed him.
There were words. I knew there were words, I heard them, but louder than anything was the rushing of blood in my ears, and the pounding of my heart. There was no one to interrupt us now, out under the stars, no one to see or hear us but the night birds watching from above. He pulled my dress up and over my head in one quick, fluid motion, and his hands and his mouth were everywhere as we tumbled to the tall, damp grass. My fingers felt too thick and slow as I tugged at the buttons of his shirt, then his zipper. I eased onto him slowly, and he let out a low groan, and then we began to move, with none of the fumbling or awkwardness of two people who had never been together before. We fit perfectly, and moved as one, until we both cried out in the starlight.
I lay on top of him until my breathing slowed, and I shifted away from him, but he caught me, and pulled me back so that he could kiss me again very gently this time, on the lips.
“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do this?” he whispered.
“What were you waiting for?” I asked.
“For you to forgive me for being such a damn fool.”
I kissed him against the side of his mouth. “Next time,” I said, “just ask.”
I stood and looked around, picked up my dress and panties off the ground, and held them against me. My heart was ready to explode. Our coming together had not just been about flesh meeting flesh. Something had been broken through, a barrier that I’d been running against for weeks had suddenly opened for me. Craig Ferris was all I wanted now. Everything I’d been dreaming about was now real, and a feeling of joy like I’d never known before flooded through me.
“Let’s go to bed,” I said. He followed me inside, through the back door and into my room, where I chased the dogs out and threw my clothes in the corner, followed by his. I lit a single candle and we lay down on the bed, facing each other, on top of the sheet, the breeze from the Bay cooling our bodies.
We talked about everything. We compared childhoods. We talked about high school. We already knew so much about each other, but I felt like I could spend the rest of my life listening to him and learning more. Sometime in the dead of night, we made love again, starting slower, taking our time.
And when I woke in the morning, the sun was streaming in and my dogs were all back in bed with me, and he was gone.
I could hear the voices drifting down the hallway, and felt a rush of relief. They were eating breakfast. Of course. He had to get up and make breakfast and drive the girls to the playground. That feeling of joy rushed through me again. Could I possibly spend the rest of my life waking up like this? Knowing that Craig and I were together? Hearing him in the kitchen, making breakfast for a family that was now mine? I pulled on a tank top and some shorts and padded to the kitchen.
He was at the stove, wearing baggy gym shorts and a T-shirt. He looked up when I entered and gave me a shy, sweet smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Pancakes?”
Keesha looked at me critically. “You sure look like you had a good time.”
I poured some coffee and sat beside her. “How old are you again?”
She giggled and looked at Amanda as though to say what’s with this crazy woman?
Maddie had the answer. “Keesha is thirteen, just like Amanda.”
“Except Amanda’s birthday is in October, and Keesha’s is in April.”
“Keesha’s older.”
“Was it a fun party?”
“Did you bring us cake?”
“How old was your friend?”
“When is your birthday?”
My head was surprisingly clear, no trace of a hangover. “December first. Karen is fifty-one. There was no cake. And the party was pretty terrific.”
Craig put a plate of steaming pancakes in front of me. His eyes were dancing and his mouth twitched. “Yes, I especially liked the after party.” He clapped his hands together. “We leave in five minutes, everyone. Plates in the sink and brush your teeth.”
There was a rush to the sink, then we were alone.
“So, listen.” He stopped.
I poured plenty of syrup on the pancakes, then looked up, waiting.
“Last night was…wonderful.”
I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. “Yeah, it was.”
“I think that maybe you and I should talk about it a little more.”
“Or we could not so much talk as just try to repeat the experience.”
He chuckled. “Yes, we could certainly do that.” His smile vanished. “It’s…you were really drunk last night.”
I put dow
n my knife and fork. “Not that drunk. And maybe the first time, but…” I smiled. “Not the second time.”
His mouth twitched. “True that. I just want to make sure.”
I felt a little twist in my gut. “Make sure about what?”
He ran his hand through his hair, and tugged at the ends. “That first time you kissed me, up in Dad’s place, I got the feeling that it wasn’t all about me.”
This was not necessarily the conversation I wanted to have first thing in the morning after a night of pretty spectacular sex. “I will admit,” I said slowly, “there were a lot of emotions involved that day.”
He looked at me, his eyes steady. “You were thinking about my father.”
I pushed my plate away. “You really want to talk about this now?” I heard the front door open, and Maddie calling his name. “Seriously?”
“I will not,” he said slowly, “be a substitute.” He turned abruptly and left, and seconds later, I heard the front door slam.
I stared at my pancakes, then the empty space where Craig had just stood. Substitute? After what happened between us, he really thought I was using him as a Sam replacement? Did he not hear the things I said to him? Did he not understand that it was him I wanted, not the ghost of husbands past?
I got up, leaving my breakfast untouched, and went in to change into some real clothes.
This conversation was not over. Not by a long shot.
He was at the restaurant, in the small office behind the kitchen.
The desk was covered with invoices, and he was frowning at his computer. I banged the door shut behind me and stood, hands on hips, glaring down at him.
“Did you not hear a word I said last night?” I hissed. “Did you really imagine, even for a second, that I thought you were Sam?”
He sat back in his chair and folded his hands, very calmly, in his lap. “When we were up in Dad’s apartment and you kissed me, you were thinking about my father. You admitted it.”
He had to play his Ace card right away? Who did that? “Yes, I admitted that, Craig. And I’ll put this out here right now, from the minute I saw you I wanted, that is, there was a very serious physical attraction.” Wait. Was I helping my case here? “But the truth is, even if I’d never seen Sam Ferris before in my life, I still would have felt the same because from a purely personal perspective I would have wanted to jump your bones anyway. I think you’re really hot.”
He nodded his head in short, abrupt jerks. “I’m hot? That’s it? Last night was about me being your idea of a good time?”
“No. Yes. It was about a good time. But—”
“You know, that’s what your friend Olivia was all about, and I turned her down flat.”
“First of all, she is not my friend. And good for you for turning her down, because you might have caught something. But—”
“I didn’t use a condom last night, which was my mistake. Do I have to worry about catching something from you? Because apparently, Olivia isn’t the only woman around here who has a reputation for sleeping around.”
That stopped me cold. I literally had to clench my fists and rein back all the things that rushed into my brain. Think, Jenna, think before you speak. Think before you speak.
I’d done a lot of things I wasn’t proud of, slept with men I should have left alone, and generally spent a few years as a basic screw-up. I’d forgiven myself for those actions and was not about to start feeling guilty all over again. And no one, not even Craig Ferris, was going to make me feel bad about myself for things done in the past.
“Is it true that you slept with him even after the divorce?” His voice was still calm, but looking into his eyes I could see the anger slowly coming to the surface.
“Olivia really gave you an earful,” I managed.
“Not just Olivia.”
I unclenched my fists and took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths. How could he look like that, so calm, while my whole world was starting to crumble? “All I really want you to know is that last night, I wanted you, Craig Ferris. Not Sam, not just any hot guy, you.” I waited for him to understand, to realize what I was saying, what I was feeling, but the mask was still there. This was the moment, I realized. I was going to have to put myself out there, one hundred percent, or he was going to slip away. I took a deep breath. “Because I think I’m in love with you.”
“And how can you tell, Jenna? How do you know you’re just not still in love with Sam? You said yourself he ruined you for other men, and I know I’m not at all like him. He was larger than life, my father, and I am only a very regular guy who happens to look just like him.”
I saw them falling, all those pretty castles in the air I had built just an hour before. I’d spent weeks pining after this man, trying to show him how I felt, not crowding him, trying to build a relationship with him based on friendship and trust. Obviously, I failed miserably.
“None of this seemed to bother you last night, Craig.” The words spilled out before I could stop them, and I clench my fists again. Stupid, stupid stupid…
“You’re not the only one who likes a good time.”
And there it was. “So much for your righteous anger, Craig. Obviously, it doesn’t matter to you how many men I slept with, or who I thought I was screwing last night, because as far as you’re concerned, you got laid. Period. And that’s all that really mattered, right?” The top of my head was coming off. I was so angry in that moment I wanted to scream, throw something, hit something…
His mouth twisted, and for just a second, I thought he was going to tell me I was wrong, that last night had meant something to him as well, something real and important.
“True that.”
I whirled and jerked the door open, then slammed it behind me. I stormed past Glory, standing open mouthed. I burst out onto the sidewalk, knocking into a mom and her kids on the way to the beach, sending plastic pails flying. I mumbled an apology and scrambled to retrieve the assorted beach toys scattered on the cement. I was crying, hot and angry tears, and people may have been staring, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything.
I got to the Jeep and called the hospital, getting through to the HR department. I had three weeks vacation, I explained, and I wanted to take it all, as soon as possible.
There were stammers and stalls. After all, summer was the busiest time in the ER. Usually, no vacation time was granted between the Fourth of July and Labor Day. Maybe a few days, but…
I clicked off the phone and leaned forward, my forehead against the steering wheel, and squeezed my eyes closed, my jaw clenched so tight I thought my teeth would crack.
I was stuck here, with Craig, after I told him I thought I was in love with him, and he didn’t say it back. He acted like he didn’t even care that I’d said it. That was enough. I was done.
I called Ellis Summer and told him I wanted the property to be divided into two separate lots, one in my name, and one in Craig’s. Then I asked him to start the paperwork for me to buy out Craig’s half of the house.
The sooner he was out of my life, the better.
Chapter Ten
You’d think that it would be hard to avoid a person living in the same house as you, but, with a little work, it was surprisingly easy. I managed to go two whole weeks and was only in the same room with him at the same time twice.
He was putting in a very concerted effort as well. I don’t know what he said to his daughters. I still spent Thursdays with them. I picked them up from the playground, and we spent the day at the house. Maddie finally caught a rockfish, and I cleaned it for her before she presented it to her father to cook for dinner. The girls didn’t ask why I wasn’t eating with them. They nodded at my excuses to be somewhere else Sunday afternoons. They didn’t even question my not sitting with them at church.
I was so unhappy I wanted to crawl under my dock and drown.
I knew when Ellis presented him with my proposal to sell him half the property because he actually knocked on my bedroom door to t
alk to me.
“This is a good plan, about dividing the land. I’ll sign the papers,” he said stiffly.
I crossed my arms across my chest. “Fine.”
“But you can’t buy me out yet. I need a place to live.”
“How’s the job hunt?”
He finally met my eyes. “I have a third interview. The company is down in Richmond. I should know by the end of the month if we’ll be moving.”
“Perfect. Will you sell to Glory?”
“If she can get financing.”
“Good.”
“Yes. Good.” He walked back down the hall, and I crept back into my bed, hugging Bit to my broken heart.
I’d also managed to stay away from my friends, which was much harder. I didn’t want to explain to them, not yet anyway, because it still felt too raw. Yes, guys, we danced at the pier, and I spun around in the starlight, and then we made love in the grass, and then again in my bed, and then we had a huge fight and now he hates me. End of story.
I just couldn’t.
But I’d driven down Main Street, and saw the progress of Chris Polittano’s new house. Curiosity got the best of me, and I pulled in the back alley to take a look.
The yard had been emptied of debris and had been scraped down to bare dirt, and there were piles of lumber and what looked to be boxed kitchen cabinets carefully pushed against the new siding, under a blue tarp to protect them from the weather. The old back porch was gone, the former doorway replaced by a double-hung window, and there was obviously a lot of activity inside. I walked around to the side, through the new door and took a few steps in.
Terri was standing there and she was wearing a hard hat. I had to try very hard not to laugh. I failed.
“Where have you been?” she yelped. “Did you have the plague?”
“Why aren’t you at work?” I grumbled. If I had known she’d be there, I would not have stopped.
“I promised Chris I’d spend my vacation working, and here I am.” She leaned in and searched my face intently. “What happened? It’s Craig, right? Oh, Jenna, what did you do?”