Under the Oak Tree

by Victoria Ashlee

  Natasha walked past him, patting his shoulder, she leaned over trying to speak low, “She’s pretty great, and I’ve decided I hate her.”

  Clay looked down at her concerned. Natasha disappeared before he could respond. He walked up to Claire, “What just happened?”

  She placed her hands on his chest, “Let’s just say we have more in common than it seemed.”

  “That worries me.” He laughed, taking her hands from his chest, intertwining his fingers with her’s.

  “I’m ready to go home.”

  A slow smile appeared on his face, “Home.”

  *

  The sounds of distant fireworks were going off when they arrived at Clay’s house. Claire stopped on the stairs, staring up at the sky, hoping to see the colorful show that her ears could hear; the trees were too high. “We missed the fireworks tonight.” She stared into the dark trees.

  Clay unlocked the front door, “Stay right there. I’ll be right back.”

  “Why?” She turned to look at him.

  “Just turn around, and close your eyes.”

  She huffed, “Fine.” She turned to face the dark trees, and closed her eyes. Her ears took in the sounds of the night. His footsteps sounded loud on the wood porch with her eyes closed. She smiled, “Why do I have to have my eyes closed?”

  “Keep them closed until I say.” His thumb ran over her bottom lips, and then she felt his warm lips on hers; his tongue slipping into her mouth. Her body had a rush of heat come over her; the slightest touch from him ignited her.

  He removed his mouth, stepping back. She bit her bottom lip, “Can I open them now?”

  “Be patient.” He laughed.

  Then she heard a lighter, and sudden crackling sparks. Her eyes shot open; he was holding a warm white sparkler that was illuminating his face. She couldn’t hold back her smile.

  “You were supposed to wait.” He said with a smirk, revealing his dimple. He held out the sparkler for her. “For you.”

  She took the sparkler, and waved it around, “Do you just have sparklers handy?”

  “I bought them yesterday; thought you might like them.”

  She waved it around a few more times before it went out, “I do.” The light disappeared, and they were standing in the dark again.

  “Do you want me to light another?”

  She looked back at his dark silhouette, “I want you.”

  He pushed the lighter in his pocket, “I can definitely do that.” He took her by the hips, taking her lips with his.

  He led her by the hand inside, stopping in front of his bed. His rough hands slid up her thighs taking the hem of her dress, bringing it over her head. Her hair falling in a wild mess as the dress was removed. He pushed her hair back with both hands, and took her breaths with his mouth. She’d give every part of her to him if he’d let her.

  She watched as he removed his shirt, his taught stomach on display. The sight sent a feeling between her legs. He removed his buckle with a snap, causing her to step back and laugh, which brought a sensual smile to his face. His pants and boxers dropped to the floor, his full length sprang free. Claire felt herself take in an involuntary breath from the bare sight of him.

  He stepped closer to her, dropping to his knees. She reached back and unbuckled her bra letting it fall to the floor. His dark heavy eyes looked up at her, his hands reaching up and kneading her breasts. She bit her bottom lip, running her hands through his hair. His fingers latched on the sides of her lace panties; he pulled them slowly down to her ankles, as she stepped out of them.

  He pushed two fingers into her. He hissed, “You’re so wet.”

  “I want to make love to you tonight.” She said breathlessly.

  “Is that so?” He stood, taking her hand, leading her backwards toward the bed.

  She pushed him backward, forcing him to sit down. She mounted his lap; his length resting against her stomach. He took one of her breasts in his mouth, and she threw her head back, and then forced him to kiss her. She rose on her knees, and reached down, lining him up with her, then slowly she dropped down, filling herself with him. She stilled for a moment adjusting to his size.

  He spoke, “Do you want me to…”

  She placed her index finger on his mouth, “Shh.” He smiled against it, and took it in his mouth. She moved her hips, and his sensual smile dropped; a look of hunger overcame him. She moved her hips harder and faster; exploring her own body while she allowed him to take parts of her heart. He thrusted his hips up, and she found her favorite position. She dug her nails into his back as she rocked back and forth until she reached her climax. She cried out his name, and with a few more thrust he came inside of her holding her down on top of him with her hips.

  He fell back, with her on top of him. Both of them were breathing hard. He took her by the cheeks, and kissed her. “You can make love to me anytime you want.”

  She giggled, “I plan to."

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Claire

  The week after the Fourth of July weekend passed by quickly. That week she had to endure two dinners at Jason’s parent’s house along with her parents. There was more wedding talk, and fake smiles. She glared at Jason when no one was paying attention to them. She hated being there, and rolled her eyes at every pompous thing that would come out of his mouth. She wanted to stand up, and yell at every single one of them, that she wasn’t happy, and the only thing that made her happy was Clay. But, she never did; that would be the fall of the Cunningham/Matthews small empire that they built. She had the power to destroy everything, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  It was Friday night, and she was in her bedroom after yet again another dinner. Living next to Jason was making it harder to avoid him. She slipped up to her room once the conversation moved to the sitting room. Conversations in the sitting room were either a sit down talk that her father would give her, or unlimited whiskey glasses. Tonight was a whiskey night, and she didn’t want any part of it.

  She was sitting on her bed, holding the picture of Clay and his mom, memorizing her face. She wanted to know what happened, or if she was still even alive. She felt Clay deserved to know even if he wasn’t brave enough to search for her.

  “Knock, knock.” Jason appeared in her doorway.

  Claire shoved the picture back into her purse. “Hey.”

  Jason sat down next to her, “Dinner was nice.”

  “It was the same as the other two dinners we had this week.”

  “Don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

  She stared at him, wondering what he wanted. Jason placed his hand on her’s, but she pulled it away immediately, “No.”

  He sighed, “Claire, I miss you.”

  “You’ve seen me three times this week.” She said dryly.

  “No,” He cupped her face, and she didn’t pull away. “I miss this.” He pulled her into a kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth.

  Panic rushed over her, and she pulled back. “Don’t do that, Jason. You can’t touch me whenever you want.”

  He made an annoyed grunting noise, “I used to.”

  “Can we not do this never ending conversation again? You ended us.”

  “We’re still together, Claire. Even if you are running around with Clay Williams.”

  “Leave him out of this.” She said firmly.

  “Or what? What will you do?” He challenged her. “Does he know that we’re still technically together? That as far as our parents go that they know we’re still together? Or that you sit in my family's house every week and talk about our wedding? Babies even?”

  She looked away from him, “I’m going to tell them.”

  “Ok, go do it.” He gestured to the open door. “Walk down there and tell them that we’re breaking up. Make your mom cry, your dad pissed, and possibly end both our families partnership. I dare you.”

  “How’s Jenny?” She snapped.

  He glared at her, “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen her. Unlike you,
I’m the faithful one.”

  Her mouth dropped open from shock that he had the audacity to say he was faithful. He was the reason all of this started. He cheated on her. She felt her emotions rising, but she refused to cry in front of him. “You need to leave. Tell them I’m going to bed.”

  He placed his hand on her thigh, “Claire…”

  His touch made her skin crawl, she jumped up, “Don’t, Jason. Just don’t.”

  He clenched his jaw, and walked toward her, “I’ll tell them you went to sleep.” He kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes as his touch lingered.

  “Goodnight.” He said, and left the room.

  She closed the door behind him, and turned the lock. She wanted to be alone. Her phone lit up. It was a text from Clay. “Wish you were here.” Clay had gone to Tenpenny’s with Brett, he invited her, but she told him that she had to have dinner with her parents.

  She sat back down on the bed, and pulled the picture of Clay and his mom back out. She stared at it, and had an idea. Clay had to work all day tomorrow, so Claire had an entire Saturday free. She bit her bottom lip, and searched on her phone how long it would take her to get to Lafayette. She was going to find Clay’s mom.

  *

  Claire woke up before the sun rose on Saturday. She dressed in skinny jeans, and a blue flowy top. Her long blonde hair was curled. She was on the road by 8:30. It was going to take her 2 and a half hours to get there. Her mom was making breakfast when she left. When her mom questioned her about where she was going, she told her that she was going shopping, and wanted to get there when they opened. Her mom didn’t even bat an eye. Claire wondered if they even paid attention to the questions they asked her.

  The weather was perfect the entire drive to Lafayette. The sky was clear blue, not a cloud to be seen. It started to hit Claire that she didn’t really have a plan of how to find his mom. All she had was an old picture of her and her name.

  When she arrived at Lafayette she stopped to get a coffee in the middle of town. When she exited the coffee shop she spotted a farmers market. It couldn’t be that easy. Would his mom go to the market? She twisted her mouth, and started walking toward the market. She walked around for a while, visiting booths. Occasionally she would show someone the picture, and ask if they knew her. Everyone said no until one woman said she thought she recognized her. Claire was hopeful, but when she told the woman Scarlette’s name she said it wasn’t the same person. It had been three hours of Claire asking people if they knew the woman in the picture. She sat down on a bench feeling defeated. There were too many people, and not enough hours in the day to ask every single one of them.

  Then it was as if fate stepped in. A woman holding a bouquet of flowers with long brown hair that looked so similar to the picture that she had clutched in her hand was across the street. Her heart started racing. She wasn’t sure how Scarlette was going to react; if it was even Scarlett. Claire started walking across the street, her palms started to sweat.

  She made it to the sidewalk, dodging a person on a bike. Claire looked down at the picture one more time, and then took a few steps more. “Excuse me.” She tapped the woman on the shoulder.

  The woman turned around, a bright smile formed on her face, “Yes?”

  Claire held out her hand, “Hi, I’m Claire.” She was trying to bait the woman into telling her her name.

  The woman smiled, “Hi, Claire. What can I do for you?”

  Claire glanced down at the picture one more time, and then back to the woman, “Are you Scarlette Williams?”

  The woman’s face slowly dropped from the bright smile that she had moments before. She adjusted the flowers in her arms. “No. My name is Dottie Blake. Sorry.” She forced a smile, and quickly turned.

  Claire wasn’t buying it. The way the woman dismissed her so quickly was strange. Claire followed the woman, “You really do look an awful lot like Scarlette Williams. Are you sure she’s not a cousin? Sister maybe?”

  The woman glanced back at Claire with a horrible look on her face, “I told you I don’t know who you are talking about. Now if you’ll excuse me I have shopping to do.” The woman weaved around a few people.

  Claire was beyond annoyed now. She thought of one more option. “Lettie!” She called out.

  The woman froze in her tracks, while the town still whizzed around them. Claire let out a sigh of relief, but then worry ran through her when the woman spun on her heels, and aggressively started to walk towards her. “Listen, Claire. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know how you found me, but I’m not Scarlette anymore. My name is Dottie, and I think you need to leave.”

  Claire almost gasped. It was her. She had found her. Claire was holding her ground, still clutching the picture. She kept her eyes on Scarlette’s.

  Scarlette glanced down at the picture, her face changed when she saw it. Then her eyes found Claire’s again, “Who told you my name was Lettie?”

  “Roy Williams.”

  Scarlette studied her, “And how do you know this man?”

  “I’m friends with Clay.”

  “Clay…” Scarlette said in almost a whisper, as if she hadn’t heard his name in years. She snapped out of the dream that she had drifted to, “Why have you come here?”

  “To find you.” Claire said with hope in her voice.

  “I didn’t want to be found.” Scarlette turned, and started to walk away.

  Claire’s hope fell, “Wait, please.” She caught Scarlette’s arm. “I’ve come all this way. Can you at least have a simple conversation with me?”

  Scarlette stared at her, “I don’t owe you anything.”

  “But, you do owe Clay an explanation.”

  Scarlette sighed, and then looked around at her surroundings. “One cup of tea.” She turned and started walking. “Come, I don’t live far from here.”

  *

  Claire found herself sitting at a round table in a small kitchen in Scarlette’s home. Scarlette filled a teapot, and set it on the stove; her back remained facing Claire for a few quiet moments.

  Claire decided to speak, “They think you killed yourself.”

  Scarlette stared down at the tea pot, “I know. I saw the news articles.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  She took a breath, closing her eyes, tilting her head to the ceiling. She then turned to face Claire, “During that time I didn’t realize that I was going through something that I didn’t understand yet. The night I left, I had this sudden idea to move. No, it wasn’t an idea, I had to move. I came up with an entire plan in hours. Sleep wasn’t a thing that night. I don’t remember arriving in Lafayette; I just know that I did.”

  “After you arrived what happened?”

  “It was so long ago, I don’t remember everything that happened. I do know months later I changed my name, got a job after all the cash was gone, and met someone.”

  “You met someone? Are you married?” Claire’s eyes glanced down to her hand.

  “No.” She smiled. “That would require me to get a divorce, which would require me to go back to my old life.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Working.” She picked up the steaming pot, and poured two cups.

  “May I ask his name?”

  Scarlette set a cup in front of her, “His name is Benjamin, and he’s taken care of me.”

  Claire’s heart sank thinking of Clay’s father, and how heartbroken he must have been, never finding someone. “You said you were going through something when you left, what was it?”

  “At first I thought it was a midlife crisis, but what it was, was a mental break. So much stress. Roy and I argued every day. He loved me, but somewhere along the way I fell out of love with him.” She closed her eyes, and then looked back at Claire. “I was afraid, unhappy, and miserable even, living in that town and that life.” She paused. “I didn’t want to be a mother anymore or married. It was hard. I couldn’t do it, so I left. I felt horrible for what I had done. What kind of mother just leaves he
r son?” Her eyes started to water.

  “But you never went back? Even after?”

  “I thought about going back many times. I can’t explain why I made the decisions that I made. I thought they would be better off without me, and then so much time had passed...what would I say? I couldn’t.”

  “Time has passed, yes. But, he’s lived the past thirteen years with people telling him that you died. Don’t you think he deserves to know that you’re alive?”

  Scarlette wrapped her hands around her cup, “I can’t go back there.”

  Claire studied her face, “What if I brought him here?”

  “Here?” She shifted in her seat. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you not want to see him? Meet the man that he’s become?”

  “Will you tell me about him?”

  “He has a kind heart. He doesn’t laugh often, but when he does it’s my favorite sound.” Claire caught herself smiling. “His work ethic outdoes mine, and that’s hard to do. He loves what he does; working with his hands. He is strong, but tender. To put it simply he’s pretty great.”

  Scarlette met Claire’s gaze, “You love him.”

  “I do.” Claire gave her a warm smile. “Very much so.”

  “Does he know you’re here?”

  “No.”

  Scarlette drummed her fingers on her cup, “Why open old wounds for him by finding me?”

  “I found you because no matter how painful it might be, if it were me I would want to know the truth.”

  Scarlette looked out the window, “I’m afraid.”

  “Facing the truth is hard, but in the end it is worth it.” She knew she was speaking to Scarlette, but for some reason she felt like she was talking to herself.

  Scarlette took Claire’s hand across the table, “You can bring him.”

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Clay

  Clay finished work early Saturday afternoon; he stopped at the store to get food to make him and Claire dinner. She was supposed to come over around eight. He had enough time to spot clean his house and shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist after showering, and walked into the living room. A door shut outside, and he glanced at the clock; it was 6:30. It couldn’t be Claire, it was too early. He slid a pair of jeans on, just before a knock on the door sounded off.