by SE Reynolds
And just as I convinced myself to continue a relationship with my hand, only twelve hours since I left Virginia hot and bothered on her doorstep, I get a come-fuck-me text.
I wanted to thank you for a great night. The dinner was fabulous, and the Caps win was even better. The final game is tomorrow night. Would you like to come over and watch it? I'll cook!
Damn, it's inevitable.
Yes, it sounds like a perfect evening, dinner with a pretty lady, and watching the Caps take home the cup! What can I bring?
I arrive at Virginia's with a six-pack of Heineken and a bottle of Santa Margarita Pinot Grigio. The clerk at the grocery store said it's one of the more popular whites. It certainly is one of the more expensive ones. Virginia is wearing a dress this evening, and it blends in with her skin. At a glance, she looks naked. It hugs her tight and just covers her knees. It allows me to see she is wearing no underwear. Of course not, easier access.
Her townhouse reminds me of the row houses in Old Town. The big bay window allows you to watch all activity on the street below, but unlike Old Town, it's in a boring suburb with no character or identity. The only action on these streets is young suburban moms walking their dogs or strolling their babies. These are more like starter homes for new homeowners. They can't afford the single-family homes in the area, so they start with a townhouse, hoping to move up and out in five years. These homes aren't cheap by any means, but they do not compare to those in the gated communities like Fairmont. I had always hoped Melissa and I would eventually move up and away from Farmer Court. An up-and-coming political power-house needs a power home—one day.
Virginia must be the only middle-aged divorcee on the block. I am sure the bored little housewives have a field day speculating about Virginia's circumstances. Today they get a special treat watching a man darken her door. Virginia's living room is painted beige like her dress. She's attempted to liven it up with a wall painted bright red. On either side of the wall are built-in bookshelves displaying rows of paperback novels and an occasional hardback. The books are broken up with pictures of her son at various ages of his life. He's a cute kid, but it's strange how he is the only one in each photo. I was expecting to see at least one happy family photo in front of a Christmas Tree or surrounding a birthday cake. I survey her books, pretending to be interested in what she finds interesting. But the only thing that catches my attention is The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner, one of Rose's favorite books. I remember how excited Rose was when the professor announced that our next book on the required reading list was The Sound and the Fury. She slapped me when I said the title sounded like the name of a wanna-be punk rock band. But that didn't curb her enthusiasm as she schooled me on all its wonderful metaphors that symbolize the fall of the Antebellum South. The ones about flowers she liked the most.
The smell of jasmine and honeysuckle are metaphors for Quentin's desires that he tries so hard to suppress, so much so that it eats him up inside. He misses the South as it used to be, and he misses his sister Caddy as she used to be. The smells remind him of sex, of Caddy, and the loss of her innocence by unworthy men. He's so obsessed with her and ashamed of her at the same time, such built-up sexual tension for poor Quentin.
Isn't that incest, Rose?
Yes, Joshua, does that bother you?
Not when you describe it.
It didn't then, not the way Rose spoke about it. But now, thinking about that conversation sends a burning rage through my veins. The same rage I got the day I saw little Conor's body bag being carried out of the Homeward Hotel and put in the same ambulance with his dad, the dad that murdered him. Yeah, it feels like that.
Virginia hands me a beer, and I drink half of it in one gulp. It soothes me back to a tolerable state, and the urge to punch something dissipates.
"I found some nice ribeyes at the grocery store. I marinated them with maple, garlic, and brown sugar seasoning."
"I didn't realize you had a deck. I didn't notice it the last time I was here."
"Yes, it's small and not very private, but I like that I have a place to grill. It's a bit healthier than frying but not as healthy as vegan. I could never live off plants,"
"A woman that is also a grill master. You are a dream come true."
Virginia's eyes widen.
"I am?"
"Sure, every man likes a woman that is pretty and can grill the perfect steak."
"Tell me that after you've tried the steaks. Don't say things unless you mean it, Joshua."
She does make a great steak. I remind her I mean what I say, and she is a proven grill master, but this time I leave out the dream come true part.
Virginia keeps feeding me beer while we watch the game, and I am getting buzzed. The game is coming down to the wire, and by this time, we are anxiously standing in front of the TV. The Capitals are up by a goal and are in an all-defense mode. They better win; it would kill the mood if they don't pull this out, but they do. They beat the Golden Knights four to three. They now own the Stanley Cup. I pull Virginia in my arms when the buzzer sounds. This time I kiss her deeply. She is responding well as her hips sway back and forth against me. I am getting hard. I think it's time to give Virginia what she and I both came here for. I pull her down on the couch, and she kisses my neck. I can feel her sniffing my neck like she does her wine.
"I like your scent," she whispers.
"I'm not wearing cologne."
"I said I like your scent, Joshua, not your smell."
I feel like we're animals, kissing and sniffing and then biting. Yikes, she just bit me on the lip. That will hurt tomorrow, but tonight, it only makes me want to fuck her hard. I slide my hand up her dress. I'm surprised to find her skin so smooth like glass. It is soft, too soft for a woman like Virginia. I instantly find the soft warm place I haven't been for so long. I feel a small patch of fur just on the outside that I gently rub with my thumb. Her hips raise slightly, just enough that her legs spread open, just enough so my fingers can enter. Virginia moves away from me and lays back on the couch. I get on top of her. I'm afraid I'm going to fall off the couch; it's so narrow. I can feel her hands on me, rubbing my pants, trying to unbutton them. I get impatient and stand up and unzip them. Virginia lunges her hand in my pants and pulls out my cock. She takes it between both her hands and rubs it up and down. It feels so nice to have someone else do the work; I'm throbbing. I quickly get on top of her, forcing her dress up and thrusting myself inside of her. She is tight for a woman her age. God, it feels so good. I'm pounding her faster; I can't slow down. My body is no longer under my control. I explode, leaving a mess inside her.
I collapse on top of Virginia, and she rubs my back. She is quiet, and so am I. The silence is awkward, so I kiss her and say thank you. She laughs. I get off her and pull my pants up.
"Do you want another beer?" she asks, pulling her dress back down.
"Sure."
Virginia goes to the bathroom to deposit my mess. I have an overwhelming urge to get the hell out of her house. I'm not in the mood for small talk or any type of forced conversation. I don't know her well enough to do the cuddle after sex thing. I ate, I drank, I fucked, I'm done. I should have declined the beer. Now, I'm stuck here for at least another twenty minutes. Virginia comes back with a bottle of beer and a glass of wine.
"You don't have to thank me," she says, giggling.
"Oh, it just came out, among other things."
She giggles again.
"Have you been on many dates since your wife passed? Oh, sorry, I shouldn't ask that. It's none of my business."
"No, I told you I don't have a long list of women banging down my door. You will be happy to know you are the first."
"You need to sow your oats, Joshua."
I didn't know how to respond to Virginia; I thought that's what I was doing with her. I was never a guy that needed to fuck a different woman every night of the week, even when I was in college. Sex was something that if it presented itself, I would take it. I never lo
oked for it or craved it until I met Rose. But with Rose, it wasn't just a craving; it was insatiable longing, something I've never felt before, and I know, I will never feel again.
Virginia is looking for something from me; I can tell by the way she is watching me drink my beer. She wants me to say more, confide more than just No, you are the first. I have twenty minutes to kill, so I continue.
"I never did a lot of dating before Melissa. She just fell into place. I don't know what I'm doing."
"Me too, Joshua. I'm so sorry about your wife. I feel like I've been married forever, and then I wasn't. I still see Harry; he's alive, he still pisses me off. But I was able to fall out of love with him before I left him. It made it so much easier. The end evolved for me over time, but you lost a woman that you loved. There was no separation or divorce, no time to fall out of love before it was over."
She was wrong about that. My feelings died almost instantly for Melissa; ironically, they died on the eve of her death. I wonder if I finish my beer now, do I still have to stay and kill the next eighteen minutes? I'm a lot of things, but I'm not rude; she made me dinner after all.
"Melissa was the best wife and mother. She put us first, a real selfless woman. Melissa would want to see us happy."
"Us?" Virginia asks as her eyes grow wider.
"I mean JJ and me."
There, I acknowledged Melissa's existence, and now let's please move on, but Virginia is still reveling in my past.
"You both looked so happy."
"You saw us together?"
"Oh, well yes, sort of. I saw you on the news. You and Melissa were on a float. It was a parade. I think it was shortly after she died."
"Oh yeah, the report of her death; it was one of the few times I made the local news."
"She was so beautiful. You looked so happy."
Virginia was right about something; I was happy that day. I remember it so clearly. Melissa looked like she had just fallen out of heaven and landed on the float. Her blonde curls were gleaming in the sun. She had a slight tan, which made her teeth look even whiter. Her eyes sparkled like steel in the sun as she smiled and waved. She refused to wear sunglasses and forbade me from wearing them. She wanted us to make eye contact with the crowd. She was right. We didn't want to look like we were hiding anything. We wanted to be trusted. Melissa exuded innocence, but I had to try harder. Our supporters were yelling Melissa's name more than mine, but that was okay by me. She knew her role, and she performed it flawlessly. Our names were circulating throughout the state and creeping into the national scene. I thought she was destined to be the first lady that day, the one sitting in the White House, that is.
"Did she die in the hospital, or were you able to bring her home?"
"She died at home."
"Do you have any family around here, Virginia?" I ask, trying to kill that last fifteen minutes of the evening.
"Just my mom."
"Are you an only child?"
"No, I had a brother, but he died."
"I'm sorry, Virginia. Losing your brother, that's tough! I was an only child."
"It's fine. David was ten years older than me. He wasn't a kid; he was an adult, maybe forty-eight, and he was my ally. You know, that one person that helps you cope with things."
"I didn't have a brother or sister, but I had a friend that was like that for me."
"Yes, well then you know how sad it is when they are gone, and you no longer can reach out to them or vent about the fucked-up thing your parent did."
"Yeah, I guess. Well, we all have to move on, Virginia. It makes us stronger, right?"
"It just makes me feel lonely sometimes."
"How did he die?"
"He developed an addiction to oxycodone and graduated to methadone. They found David already rotting in his bathroom. The coroner believed he was trying to take a shit on the toilet and just simply died. He was leaning up against the sink still on the toilet when they found him. He was beyond rigor mortis and in the rotting stage. Just like Elvis."
"Wow. Disturbing," I say as I stand up, hoping Virginia will follow my queue and end the evening. The only thing left for me to do is go home and take a hot shower.
Chapter 19 – Virginia
My first conscious thought this morning is I had sex with Mayor Joshua Steadman last night. I can still feel the effects of his presence inside me. I wasn't fully ready for him to enter me. I needed a little more stimulation, but I let him take over. It was the first time, and I didn't want to ruin it by telling him where to touch, manipulating his hands in different directions. So, I let him do what he wanted, and he wanted to be inside me. He is large, and my not-so-primed vagina is feeling the aftermath of it all, but I don't mind. It's a nice reminder of Joshua that will linger with me all day long. Being sexually compatible takes time. His lack of experience somehow turns me on. It's like being with a virgin; he didn't know what to do but the obvious. I can teach Joshua, guiding him to the right places like a conductor of a symphony. He will be an amazing lover over time.
I get out of bed without procrastination. It's a Sunday with no responsibilities. Usually, I linger in bed, thinking of a reason to get up, some kind of motivating thought like Robert needs his mother and it would kill him if I am not around anymore. But this morning, I don't need self-motivating. The idea of sipping on coffee and basking in the memories of the night before seems delightful to me. I make myself a cup of coffee, open the windows, and peer over my neighborhood. I see a young mother struggling to stroll her baby while walking her poodle at the same time. Where is her husband? Who cares, I think. Usually, I would make reasons up for why her husband is missing in action. Maybe he's dead, perhaps he filled his gut up with too many beers last night and is sleeping it off, or perhaps he's home pretending to pay bills but is whacking off to porn instead. But today, I don't care. I sip my coffee and turn away from the window. I see Joshua's empty beer bottle on the coffee table. I don't have the heart to throw it away.
Just like a perfect 1950’s housewife, I cooked for him, served him cold beers as he watched the game, and allowed him to have one-sided sex with me. Last night, I think I’ve crossed over the threshold from a casual date to a person he sees, maybe even his girlfriend. It's not just because we had sex; he confided in me, and I confided in him. That had to be hard for him. How heartbreaking it must have been for him to watch Melissa die. I imagine Joshua sitting on one side of the bed, holding her hand, while JJ is on the other side of the bed holding her other hand. I hope she wasn't aware of what was going on. It would be so painful for her to watch them watch her die. It must be hard to sleep in the bed where someone died. Maybe he got a new mattress. I've heard when a person dies, their bowels relax, and they eliminate seconds after they die. He couldn't possibly keep the bed after that. I pick up my phone, hoping for a text, but the only text I get is from Misty.
I want to know all the dirty little details, V!
I'm mildly disappointed it's not a text from Joshua thanking me for a perfect night. I'm sure he will eventually. I need to wait for him to make the next move. I will not turn into crazy Virginia this time.
Chapter 20 – Stacie
I don't feel like working late this evening. I know it's only Monday, but I'm already exhausted, deflated, and uninspired. The only motivation I have is to walk down the street to Benny's and get a chocolate-dipped cone. I begin to pack up my things when I hear two knocks. I look up and see Alice's head inserted between the door and the wall.
"Please don't tell me Ellie wants another impromptu meeting when I'm about to leave for the day?"
Alice's eyes are bigger than usual, and she is grinning from ear to ear.
"There is someone here to see you, Stace."
Alice opens the door wider, and there stands the tall and handsome Joshua Steadman.
"How's that stinger?" Joshua asks as he walks through my door and collapses in the chair in front of my desk.
"Stinger?"
My mind flashes back to the day
of my near-death experience when I got stung by a bee. But it's just a flash, and I'm back to the present day, where a handsome man is standing in my office wanting to see me. Joshua taps his finger over his left eye.
"Oh, it's all better, see," I say as I stretch over the desk to give Joshua a better look.
"Yes, I don't see a mark or anything. But, again, I'm sorry."
"Please, I'm fine. How's JJ?"
"He's fine. He has forgotten all about Benny's. He's trying to get a part-time job with Jeb's moving company. I think it's a better fit for a hyper kid."
"Hyperactivity?"
Joshua doesn't respond as he rubs his forehead.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No, it's JJ. He has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. I don't like sharing that with people. I don't want anyone to treat me differently."
"Why would anyone treat you differently?"
"What? No, I mean JJ. When he takes his meds, he's fine. I didn't give JJ his meds that day. I didn't think to. I only give it to him before school. I guess I have to treat his job like school."
"Well, Joshua, I'm not going to say I'm sorry because it would mean something is wrong with JJ. But I will say I understand and am confident that JJ has a great dad that is there for him no matter what."
"Thanks, Stacie, I appreciate that."
Joshua wanders around my office, reading the framed accreditations, certificates, and professional awards that hang on the walls. It makes me feel a bit uneasy, as if he is judging me and my qualifications.
"George Mason Law School? A local girl, nice! Do you like being a lawyer, Stacie? You don't seem like the lawyer type."