Lovers Only, Friends Optional by Lisa Smith- Overton- written version
Lisa Smith-Overton is a freelance writer and photographer published in both fiction and non-fiction. Her short story, The Travels of Mary Magdalene won the short story prize in the 2006 CT State University System Fiction and Poetry Contest and was published in the Connecticut Review. A graduate of Eastern Connecticut State University, she is currently a graduate student in the Master of Fine Arts program in professional writing at Western Connecticut State University.
Lovers Only, Friends Optional
By Lisa Smith-Overton
©2008 by Lisa Smith-Overton
She was in her small home office when her cell phone rang and the ID displayed made her heart leap with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. In the past this person wouldn’t normally call during this time of the day. His phone calls would come late evening or night which made this phone call all the more curious. She pressed the “go” button and before she could get two words out, he said matter-of-factly:
“I buried my wife today.”
She frowned and pulled the phone away from her ear to stare at it for a moment in disbelief. She switched the phone to her other ear and said softly,
“Dennis? What’s going on, baby? I don’t think I heard you right, what did you just say?”
“If you heard me say I buried my wife today, you heard right,” he said. Taken aback for a brief moment, she replied,
“Dennis, I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do…”
“When can you come out here? I want to see you. For more than a couple of hours.”
He had always been like this, so take charge and in control Whatever Dennis wanted, Dennis got and damn the consequences. That was one of many things that had kept Cecile, or Cee-Cee to people who knew her, attracted to him over the twenty years of knowing him. Yet in light of his distressing news, Cee-Cee found his request a little too casual, too detached even for him. She decided to take things slow.
“How did it happen?”
“Gabi had ovarian cancer. We didn’t know until it was too late.” He cleared his throat and she remained silent. She knew Dennis hated silence in a conversation; he always had to keep the words flowing no matter how trivial they may be. So she hoped her silence would force him to reveal more of what was on his mind.
“So when can you fly into Pittsburgh?” he continued. “How much time can you give me?”
“I’m not sure what you’re asking me. You’re looking for us to…”
“You know what I’m asking you. I want you to come here and stay with me.”
“What? You mean in your house?”
“Where else are you going to stay for a week?”
Over the years of moving in and out of each other’s lives, the most time they had spent together was four hours max in a hotel room during his business trips. Spending a week with him would be crossing the invisible line they had established during the years of their unusual and somewhat complex meeting arrangement.
“Dennis,” she reasoned. “I understand this is a difficult time for you but have you lost your mind? What about your children? Your neighbors?”
“The kids are grown and moved on, and what the hell do I care about the neighbors now? Listen, I want you here, so are you coming or not?”
Dennis had never been short on female companionship even during his long marriage and their liaison. He could have any number of women to keep his body warm if that’s what he needed. But why her? Why now? Why arrange something in such poor taste so soon after the passing of a spouse?
“Dennis,” she began, trying to use a tone of voice that was a mixture of compassion with a mother’s firmness. “A person losing a spouse doesn’t have a woman he’s been sleeping with for years stay in his wife’s bed. That just isn’t done. For once, Dennis, use the common sense God gave you.”
“Okay, then, how about me asking a friend to come and visit? Is that more acceptable? Less offensive?”
“Come on, Dennis. We’ve known each other too long for this nonsense.”
“What do I need to do to get you to visit me?”
She laughed out of frustration. “Dennis, help me out here. You should have time to yourself, not fill the void with another female. This is your wife we’re talking about. I’m not the paragon of fidelity, but I’m sorry, you don’t treat your wife’s memory like that…I pass on the invitation.”
“Please,” was all he said.
Dennis had never used that word with her; he never had to beg for anything. However, the fact that he used that simple word spoke volumes to his present state of affairs.
“I could make some arrangements, yes,” she said, surprised the words came out of her mouth. “You’ll have to give me a couple of days.”
“Let me know what you work out and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Dennis, are you sure this is what you want? How you are going to explain to your white friends and neighbors some strange black chick wondering around in your house a jump after burying your wife? That’s not necessarily the politically correct thing to do, you know.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” was all he said before ending the call.
“Did you forget anything?” Cee-Cee’s husband, Tommy, asked her as they loaded the bags into the trunk of her car. She shook her head.
“No, I have everything. I’m good.”
“You sure you don’t want me to drive you to the airport? I don’t mind picking you up when you get back.”
It took effort to turn back to her husband without bursting into tears; instead she met his cow-brown eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses with a plastered smile.
“No, baby,” she said, reaching out for his arm to rub. “It’s okay. Thanks for the offer though.”
“Call me when you get there,” Tommy said enveloping her in his large arms. She took a deep inhale of his scent, a mixture of the fabric softner she liked to use on their clothes and his intoxicating (on him, so she thought) underarm deodorant.
“Don’t pick up any strange men,” he joked against her hair. The laugh that slipped from her lips was a mixture of a giggle and a sob.
“I promise,” she said, nestled in the warmth of his broad chest.
Dennis had arranged for a window seat for her on the plane, knowing that was her preferred place for seating. Looking out of the window at the fluffy clouds that seemed to stretch endlessly like rolls of cotton batting floating and moving on an invisible conveyor belt, her thoughts strayed to Dennis and what he could possibly expect from her. This would have been the perfect opportunity to knock out a paragraph or two on a short story she was trying to sell, but she couldn’t produce the concentration needed for even a single sentence. Her mind kept going back to the trusting eyes of her husband; her nostrils still held the scent of him. The plane dipped a little from turbulence and she gripped the armrests of her chair. Air travel made her anxious especially since the World Trade Center disaster and her overactive writer’s imagination always made her imagine the worse.
She managed to clear her schedule for four days, which was all she could get away with, but she didn’t think the visit would last that long. And if she did return home early, she could use the excuse of cutting the conference short out of boredom. Dennis would probably grow weary of her after one night and they would go their separate ways as they usually did until they felt the need to connect again. What confounded her most was how casual he sounded about his wife’s passing, how disconnected he seemed from the situation. Not confounding, no, disturbing was a better word. Dennis and his wife had been together since high school and he always said to her that his wife was the only woman for him despite her “issues.” Cee-Cee was one of many women he had extracurricular activities with and he wasn’t secretive with her about the other women he conquered. He explained in detail the many women he seduced while he was away at college during his courtship with his wife, and the women he found the fill the void when they fell out of sorts with each other, which is how she came into his life. But he always remained oddly loyal and somewhat devoted to his wife of 25 years, though they had been together way before the marriage. The flight attendant interrupted her thoughts by offering her a beverage and a salty bag of nuts and she gratefully accepted. She looked out the window once more to view the sunrise that turned the purple skies into a mellow, gradient orange as she took a sip of her apple and cranberry juice.
Dennis stood waiting nervously near the baggage carousel, glancing often at the flight information flashing on the large computerized screen overhead. He would have liked to wait for her at the gate but a post 9-11 wouldn’t allow it. He paced slowly for a while, trying to contain his energy until he finally decided to take a seat. A familiar, husky voice behind him said,
“How you doin’, good lookin’?”
He jumped out of his seat and turned around, and there Cee-Cee stood with a smile.
“Your hair got longer,” was all he could say after a brief silence.
She touched her chin-length, processed curls self-consciously. Her hair was a massive nest of tight, dyed, sandy brown curls that framed her round, medium brown face very nicely.
“Hair has an annoying way of growing. Is that all you have to say to me?”
Though over 45, he could still see some of the youthful beauty he found so attractive when he first met her. Very fine lines were etched underneath her almond-shaped brown eyes and her mouth, but she could easily pass for late thirties. Her face looked a little fuller too, yet it somehow worked in her favor when taking in the complete picture. Same full breasts, full hips, and full behind. Cee-Cee, on the other hand, regarded Dennis with concern. They were both the same age, but he looked so much older. His blonde hair, sculpted with designer hair gel no doubt, was losing its maize color and showed signs of fading at the temples. His cornflower blue eyes, set close together, seemed colder and darker. His once strong jaw line with square chin didn’t seem as firm as it used to be and his jowls sagged. Without smiling she could see the crow’s feet firmly entrenched at the corners of his eyes and thin-lipped mouth. He was sporting a goatee and she knew he grew it for her. When he smiled at her; however, she was able to see the Dennis she met some 20-odd years ago; her stomach did a flip and she couldn’t help but smile back.
“So should I give you a hug or something?” she said, playfully dipping her head to the side. A curly lock fell across her face when she did so and without thinking, he reached out and moved the lock away from her face.
“Hey, man, do what you feel,” he responded.
She lowered her laptop case and purse to the floor and stepped forward to take him in her arms.
“I really am sorry to hear about your wife,” she whispered in his ear.
“You smell good,” he said, sidestepping the sentiment when they pulled away. She noticed this but she chose not to draw attention to it.
“Am I supposed to smell bad?” she joked, grabbing her laptop case and purse off the floor. They began the walk to the luggage carousel.
“I like your hair.”
“Thanks,” she said running her fingers through the light brown mass. “No more curling irons and hair dryers. Just water and hair gel in the morning and I’m out the door.”
As they stood waiting for her luggage she asked,
“How are you, Dennis?” she asked, her eyes studying. “Seriously. You don’t have to pretend with me, you know that.”
He shrugged as he gave a deep sigh.
“Everyone is in shock, you know, trying to make sense of it all.”
“I didn’t ask about everyone, I’m asking about you.”
He looked down at his feet before looking back at her.
“She was a part of my life for so long, you know? I always thought she would be here. I guess that’s why I called you here.”
“I don’t understand.”
He met her eyes and said, “Other than Gabi, you were the only woman that was constantly there, in my life. I mean, there have been other women, and we weren’t together all the time. The last time we saw each other was…what?...seven years ago almost? But you weren’t like the others. You were the best.”
The compliment took her by surprise. This revelation threw everything she knew about them and what she had come to expect from him into a tailspin. He had never been completely open about his thoughts and feelings about her, which was part of the reason why she had decided to stop expecting more than what he was able to give, and to find someone who could give it. When she had met, fell in love and married her husband, she had left Dennis behind for what she thought would be forever. Yet she hadn’t a clue how strong their chemistry was until they had a chance meeting five years after she married that sparked the relationship all over again. Cee-Cee was weak when it came to Dennis, she knew it and worst of all he knew it, and the opportunist in him was quick to exploit it. It was this same weakness that compelled her to get on a plane and risk a discovery by her husband. But this time, she felt he wasn’t exploiting her. She reached out and took his hand.
“Why don’t we get my bags and get out of this noisy airport.”
The weather was warm and sunny in Pittsburgh and the cool breeze was refreshing after navigating their way out of the stuffy airport. He led her through the parking lot and to his car, the latest model Saab convertible in a metallic blue.
“I see you still have an attachment to Saab convertibles.”
“It’s a good car. You should get one,” he said, unlocking the car with the remote and putting her luggage in the trunk.
They both got into the car and as he turned the key in the ignition, she turned to him and said,
“Dennis, I would feel much more comfortable if you let me stay in a hotel or something.”
“What for? I got plenty of room.”
“I’m trying to be respectful of the situation and the voice of reason I might add.”
He glanced at her sideways with a grin as he lowered the top of the convertible and backed the car out of the parking space and pulled out of the lot. Putting on his shades, he shifted gears and increased his speed which caused her hair to whip wildly in the wind, the curls tickling her forehead and cheeks, the feeling making her giggle and laugh as she tried to contain their unruliness and failing. He glanced sideways to view her enjoyment, and then shifted again to go faster.
“Dennis! Slow down!” she exclaimed, laughing.
He grinned and zipped off the highway and guided the car through a small business center before the landscape gave way to tree-lined streets and rich, green lawns with neat haircuts and English-style gardens. The car slowed and then made a right into a driveway that snaked between a large white Colonial with black shutters and a 6 foot white vinyl fence along the edge of the property. He parked at a large, two-car detached garage.
“Bonus room?” she asked, gesturing towards the upper half of the structure as she stepped out of the car.
“In-law apartment,” he responded, cutting the engine and studying her.
“Is someone living there?” He shook his head.
“Nope.”
“Can I see it? I’m curious.” He smiled and got out of the car.
“Follow me.”
He led her to the side of the structure where white-washed wooden stairs climbed up to a white steel door. He unlocked it and brought her into the one-bedroom apartment of perhaps 750 square feet by her estimate. He followed her, lulled by the clicking of her open-back loafers on the hardwood floor as she explored the bedroom with full-size bed and armoire; the small bath with marble tile, pedestal sink and glass-encased shower; and the kitchenette with state-of-the-art appliances clearly custom-made for the space.
“This is nice,” she said studying the adobe clay wall color and crown molding in the small living room, wishing she had the money to do something similar. She gave him a sideways glance. “Ever sneak one of your women up here?”
“No,” he said with a grin as he advanced towards her. “Never.”
“Why not?” she said, as she found herself being backed into the bedroom.
“We built this for her in-laws. They stayed here until they had to go into assisted living.”
They stood silently beside the bed, the sexual tension between them thick in the air, just as thick as the day they first met at the age of 29.
“Can I stay here? I want to stay here,” she asked, he moving so close to her she could smell the peppermint on his breath. He reached up and gently brushed her hair, once again, away from her face only this time it was to give her a deep kiss.
“I have to call my husband,” she said softly.
He stirred against her naked breast; he had been dozing off after the reunion of their bodies which left clothes carelessly strewn on the floor and their bodies exhausted but satiated.
“Uh um,” he uttered and moved away so she could slip out of the tangle of sheets, legs and arms to search for her cell phone. She moved naked out of the room and he laid back on the pillow, arms over his head to watch her round, brown buttocks jiggle as it rose and fell with each step. As she bent over to reach for her purse, the view accorded to him brought a smile to his lips.
“Do that again,” he shouted from the other room.
“Do what?” she said, distracted as she searched for her cell phone.
“Just drop your purse and pick it up again.”
It took a beat for her to understand the meaning behind the request.
“You’ve already seen that view, and you’ll see it again from 20 different angles…now be quiet, please.”
He laughed as she slipped out of his view. Cee-Cee held her phone in her hand for a while, staring at her husband’s number before her thumb slowly moved to the “go” button. She paced in a nervous circle as the phone rang and rang before his voice mail message came on.
“Hi…uh…I made it safely. The flight was good but there was turbulence…you know how I hate that…I wish you had been there for your hand to squeeze.” She paused to stop herself from babbling.
“Anyway,” she continued. “We’ll talk later…I love you. Behave, okay?” Upon ending the call, she could hear her husband’s response to her last directive before hanging up: always.
“Everything okay?” said a voice behind her, and she jumped and turned around.
“Yeah,” she stammered, taken by surprise. “I left a message.”
He moved closer and whispered, “So, you called the hubby, everything’s good…what do we do now?” Her eyes traveled below his waist.
“You get my bags from the car, and then you feed me because all I had on the plane was a bag of peanuts and a can of juice.”
His eyes held hers as he said, “And what do you want…to eat?”
His stamina always amazed her and at first she thought it was normal, that every man had a quick recovery time after sex. When she first had sex with her husband while dating, she thought her husband was the one with the problem, one act in a sexual session was all he could manage. Dennis, on the other hand, could manage three times in a row with a ten minute recovery time in between. She eventually learned that Dennis’ stamina was neither abnormal nor typical, just different. Though they were both knocking on the door to 50 years of age, judging from his arousal and the tone of his voice, age had not slowed his sexual abilities.
“Just my luggage and food,” she responded with a knowing grin.
He took a deep breath as his eyes wandered down over her naked brown flesh that was so close to his touch.
“Dennis?”
“Uh huh?” he said, his eyes glassy.
“Food and luggage, please.”
“Right,” he said, snapping out of his trance.
On the first night there was very little talk from Dennis about his deceased wife without her initiating it. They talked politics (he was a staunch Republican, she a slightly passionate Democrat). The media (he took it for what it was, she pontificated on the moral decline of the news media). Current events (he was politically incorrect on a slew of issues, she was more tactful). Her current and upcoming projects (she was a moderately successful magazine writer) and projects he had won contracts for (Dennis was partner at a big architect firm). He fed her great deli from an upscale place he knew in downtown Pittsburgh and brought some DVD movies from the house for them to watch on the 42” Plasma TV mounted to the wall in the bedroom. But no voluntary mention of his wife. As they lay on the bed together watching a movie that didn’t involve surgically-enhanced women in contortionist-style sexual positions with three men at once (porno was part of Dennis’ cinema repertoire whenever they met), she marveled at his relaxed nature. Couples usually felt free to fart around each other, scratch secret places, have bad breath and body odor, and look as awful as they wanted to with no judgment calls from the other person. Quite the opposite for their encounters; appearances were sanitized. No bad breath, bodies smelled springtime fresh and hair was always in place until their lovemaking made the smell of sex cling to their skin and knocked hair out of place. Laying beside her in a college tee-shirt and worn shorts, she felt she was seeing Dennis as he must have been around his wife.
“I didn’t know you were in touch with your feminine side,” she joked, gesturing towards the scene being played on the screen.
“Yeah, I like this movie, it’s cool.”
“Did your wife like it?”
“Um…she thought it was okay when she first saw it, but it wasn’t something she would watch over and over. She wasn’t that into movies.”
“But you are.”
“Yeah, I mean I’m not a die hard movie watcher but if something grabs me in the theater, I’ll usually buy it later when it comes out on DVD. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, I like a good love story as much as the next female, you know, the romantic writer in me and all that mess. I saw it when it first came out and I liked it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to watch something else?” he said, poised to move out of the bed.
“No, no, let it stay. It’s fine.”
He then did something she didn’t expect. Dennis slid down the bed and rested his head on her lap. It took a minute to let the gesture register in her head, as this sign of intimacy was never played between the two of them. And then she reached out her hand, tentatively at first, and laid it on his head to stroke his thick, mussed blonde hair. He reached back, grabbed the hand and kissed the palm.
On the second day of the visit, Dennis was more talkative and more amorous. They went for a walk on the large property, which was deceptively small if one looked from the street. A well-kept backyard with a screened-in gazebo and stone-built barbeque pit gave way to a dense landscape thick with trees. As they got deeper and deeper into the property, he made his move on her against an old oak tree and they reached their crescendo with her bent over a large rock nearby.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” she asked as she tried to catch her breath.
He didn’t answer, merely laughed and kissed the back of her neck as she pulled up her underwear and pants.
“How many times did you do this with Gabi?” she asked, hoping that using her name, instead of referring to her as his wife, might illicit some conversation. Unfortunately, it didn’t illicit the response she was seeking. He only smiled and pulled up his jeans.
“You have to talk about her eventually, Dennis,” she said as he walked passed her towards the house. “You can’t play this game forever.”
“What game?” he said, looking back at her but still walking.
“Of pretending that she never existed. You gotta talk to me, you can’t screw me bowlegged for the rest of the time I’m here, that’s not going to solve whatever it is your feeling.”
He turned around. “What is it that you want me to say, Cee-Cee? That I miss her? That I wish she wasn’t dead? What is that going to do? It doesn’t change anything.”
“I’m not expecting it to change anything,” she said moving closer to him. “But you need to ask yourself these two basic questions: number one, what was the real reason you called me here; and number two, what is it that you’re looking for me to do? If you’re looking for me to take her place in some way, I’m here to tell you, that ship has already sailed, mister.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
This was her chance to say everything she had wanted to say since their relationship began, and she wasn’t going to shy away as she had done in the past.
“Meaning,” she said, as she stood eye-to-eye with him. “That your chance to make me permanent in your life was before I got married. If you had made your move then, you would have me now. But you didn’t love me enough, or maybe you never loved me at all, to make that move. And that’s alright, I’m fine with that, I ain’t mad at you. I played the game exactly how you wanted it played and I take full responsibility for my actions. But don’t think for one second that because the path is clear for you that I’m going to miraculously clear my path.”
“I’m not looking for you to do anything for me. But let’s get real for a minute, you left your husband to be with me. That was me in between your legs a second ago, not your husband. So spare me the angry black woman crap. If you didn’t want to be here, you could have said no, plain and simple.”
“You said please.”
“I said what?”
She repeated slowly, “You…said…please. You have never, and I mean never, said please to me for anything. Damn skippy I could have said no, but you said please and here I am. You need me for some reason; I just want you to be honest with that reason and not perpetrate some fraud, not to me but to yourself.”
They stood quietly facing each other, but then he broke the quiet by saying,
“Damn, you’re sexy when you’re angry, do that again.”
She looked up at the sky in frustration and blew out a puff of air.
“Dennis, what a menace you are.”
“Seriously, you’re turning me on right now.”
“Dennis, stop dodging the issue with your frat boy humor. Both of us are too old for that.”
He reached for her and slipped his arms around her waist.
“Damn, you weren’t joking, were you?” she said as he pressed against her. He grinned and she pulled out of the embrace.
“How are you feeling right now?” he asked.
“Dennis.”
“We could do round two right now, put me in the game coach! There’s another place further up…”
“Dennis! Stop this and tell me why I’m here! And if you tell me something stupid about one of your twisted fantasies about me I’ll pop you right in the mouth.”
He looked down at the ground as he walked past her to sit on the rock.
“Okay, fine,” he began, still looking at the ground. “You’re right when you said that I needed you. I did…I do need you. You know, at one time I did think there could be a you and me. It wasn’t about that black woman/white man, insurmountable relationship crap, that never entered my mind. When you have money, people will accept almost anything.
“But Gabi had been with me when I had nothing. I was a working class kid that had to take scholarships and financial aid to get through college. She knew I cheated on her, but she still stayed with me. Not for the money I don’t think, I guess for the kids, for the history we had…”
“Or maybe she just straight out loved you,” Cee-Cee interrupted. “Isn’t that possible?”
“I suppose she did,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “She threatened to leave when she found out about you right after you and I met, but she didn’t want to leave and I didn’t want her to leave. I probably promised something, like I wouldn’t do it again, and I think she wanted to believe that, but knowing in the back of her head that it wasn’t possible. I should have ended things with you straight off, for my marriage and to give you a chance to find someone better, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t leave you alone. Damn, look it, you’re smart, beautiful, sexy as hell…what guy wouldn’t want something like that in his life?”
He looked up at her and a lock of hair fell in front of his eyes making him look very child-like and she began to soften.
“When you told me you got married,” he continued. “I was cool with it because you deserved to be with someone. I couldn’t be with you, plain and simple. So you were doing your thing and I was doing mine, but in the back of my mind I felt like I had missed a good opportunity.
“And then I saw you after you got married. I knew I should have left you alone but we got to talking and you have that voice that drives me crazy…I wanted you. I figured if I pressed the right button I could get you to be with me again. All I would have to do is whisper that one word.”
“Baby,” she responded, shaking her head.
“Baby,” he repeated in the kind of way that she liked and got the response he sought, she closed her eyes and smiled. “You can’t deny the chemistry.”
“I’ve never denied the chemistry, Dennis.”
“Believe it or not, I had been thinking of ways to keep you…” He stopped when she frowned.
“No, no,” he corrected. “Not keep you, I meant keep you in my life. I’m a selfish bastard…”
“And a spoiled brat,” she added with a smile.
“Yeah, and spoiled. But I couldn’t find a way to pull it off…you know, to have my cake and eat it, too.”
She stuck her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels.
“So why do you need me, or what do you need from me?”
He turned his head away from her as he shook it.
“You know, I can’t answer that question, Cee-Cee. Things are so confusing for me right now.”
“Are you looking for me to replace Gabi? Think before you speak and be honest.”
He did what she asked, and took time to think before he gave the following response:
“Right now, I just need you to get me through this feeling of being alone. I’ve never felt it before and I don’t know how to handle it.”
She held out her hand to him and said, “Fair enough.”
On the third day, the last day before departure, two things occurred that changed the course of the visit. While he was out on a food run, she decided to get some work done on her laptop. Though she couldn’t log onto the Internet to check mounting e-mails, she could work on the challenging short story she had started before her visit. During the middle of a particularly difficult sentence, she felt nature calling and left the desk to go to the bathroom. When she returned, she noticed the screen saver had kicked in and pictures on her laptop began to play. One of t hose pictures was that of her husband standing next to a tree on a day she remembered quite fondly, and the subsequent series of pictures allowed her to reminisce further. She smiled when she first saw his face; each picture that rolled by turned that smile into a frown, which led to tears. Unable to look at those images, she closed the laptop just as Dennis entered the apartment with bags of groceries, and she ran into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. When she came out, he spotted her red eyes and puffy face and said with concern,
“What’s the matter? You okay? Something happen?”
She sighed and wiped her eyes. “Just wondering what I’m doing here.”
He walked to the kitchenette to set the bags down and turned to her.
“And what does that mean specifically?”
With hands on hips, she paced the room until she could get her thoughts together without bursting into tears once more.
“There were so many times when I hoped you would call and tell me to come stay with you for the rest of our lives. You and I, we are so much like. We’re driven, intelligent, hungry for success, our way of thinking linear, to cut through all the bull, was so much in tune. I felt that if we were together, we could set the world on fire because we could push each other to success, you know? You would have owned the firm you work for, not just be a partner, and I would be some prize-winning author. And the sex? Incredible. The chemistry…I’ve never had that kind of chemistry with any man.”
She stopped and turned to face him.
“Back then I couldn’t figure out what I felt for you. I wanted to say it’s a love of some kind but for years I stopped myself because single, intelligent women don’t fall in love with married men, at least in my way of thinking. And you were so guarded, you never revealed how you felt about me but there had to be something otherwise why would you sniff after me so much? So I distanced myself…I tried to boil down this connection we have into just a sexual attraction because I didn’t want to get hurt, I refused to let myself fall apart over a married man who couldn’t care beyond getting a casual lay. But I went back and forth with you. One moment I wanted to be your wife, your girlfriend, anything so that I could be with you permanently, the next minute I was content to just have sex.
“When we had that falling out, I was like, enough is enough. I’m getting older and I couldn’t continue the Mickey Mouse games. I needed more, I needed stability and when my husband came along, who was different from you in every way, I thought…yep…this is it, this is what I’ve been looking for. Tommy and I, we think along the same lines and when it came to me, he wore his heart on his sleeve. He was gentle for such a big guy, and caring and he wanted to win me so bad. I wanted him to win me because I wanted all thoughts of you erased from my mind. He did that, for five years, and then when I ran into you and we met for drinks, and you turned on that charm that you knew I couldn’t resist, I was like, damn, this man must really want me. I weakened. I’m not proud of that now, but back then I wasn’t even thinking about it.”
“Cee-Cee, I…”
“Let me finish,” she said closing her eyes and holding up a hand. “I need to get this all out.”
She sat down and rubbed her knees before she could pick up the train of thought she was on.
“I’m not quite sure why I fell back into bed with you,” she said looking up at him. “My husband and I, we have pretty good sex. He’s willing to get a little freaky-deaky some times, but he has his limits and I like that. So after we got together in your hotel room, I spent days trying to figure out why I slept with you. I wasn’t having bad sex at home, my husband treated me well, I was generally happy. So the only conclusion I could come to was that I loved you and never stopped loving you.”
“Whoa,” was all Dennis could say.
“Yeah, exactly,” she said with a meek smile.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“If I told you that I loved you, does that mean I leave my husband and I push you to leave your wife and kids? And besides all that, I love my husband. Then all this guilt set in, I felt like such a slut. It’s one thing to mess around with a married guy when you’re single, I didn’t feel like much of a slut then…”
He laughed.
“I know that sounds off,” she continued. “But for me, when you’re married and still doing it, that’s a totally different ballgame. My actions would be destroying someone I care for deeply. I have a really good man who deserves a woman who will be faithful all the time, not when it’s convenient for her. And I say to myself, no more. He had his chance and he didn’t take it, it’s time to let Tommy have me completely. That’s why I picked a fight with you, I thought it would be easier to end it completely on a sour note.”
“I get what you’re saying, Cee-Cee,” he said, taking a seat in a chair opposite her. “But where does that leave me now?”
“Here I am, with you all over again, only the path is clear for you. I would have never wished that the path would clear the way it did. The aggressive person I am would see this as an opportunity for me to get on up in there. If I was single. But I’m not. And I’m feeling like a slut all over again, that’s where it leaves you.”
“Ah ha. The guilt.”
“I just saw pics of my husband on my laptop.”
“That explains the crying.”
“Yep.” They stared at each other for a while before he asked,
“You wanna pick a fight with me, would that be easier?”
“No fight. Not this time.”
Dennis had decided to cook Cee-Cee a meal at the house for her last night, for the kitchenette in the in-law apartment was inadequate for what he planned to prepare. Food was an important element in his life, so important that at the height of 5’6” he weighed at one time 230 pounds. He lost the weight (he was now a svelte 180) but didn’t lose the appetite for good food. He considered himself a pretty decent cook by amateur standards. Before he got down to business, he gave Cee-Cee a tour of the house. Containing the same crown molding that was in the in-law apartment, the house’s wall col ors were based on the colors in a reproduction of a Matisse that hung in the living room. Cee-Cee thought they were good colors, funky and bold and daring. The downstairs was decorated in contemporary modern, with clean lines and interesting shapes, very hip and inviting.
“All of this,” she said, gesturing about the room. “Is just too cool for school, I can’t begin to tell you.”
“Gabi redecorated two years ago. She liked the Matisse and was set on making it work. I had a problem with the frame for the reproduction costing more that the canvas and I wasn’t too thrilled over the wall colors. But in the end I liked it.”
“No interior decorator?” Cee-Cee asked in surprise.
Dennis shook his head. “Nope, all her. She was very talented in that area for someone who never went to school for it. I kept telling her she should go to art school or go into business for herself but she wasn’t interested.”
Cee-Cee thought, if I had the money, this is exactly how I would have decorated my house. They moved to the den, which was decorated in earth tones and heavy oak furniture. Two large windows with elaborate window treatments were straight ahead and gave a wonderful view of the backyard. A drafting table with lighting was off to one corner on the left side of the room near the windows. Next to it against the wall was a large oak desk with a small litter of papers, and apropos desk objects such as blotter, calendar, desk lamp, and sterling silver pen and pencil holders. A large-screen desktop Mac sat squarely in the center of these objects. On the wall to the right were floor to ceiling built-in oak bookcases filled with books, and vases and pictures strategically placed with overhead lighting. She wandered over to the bookcase and perused the books before viewing the photographs. She held up a Tiffany & Co. frame with the photo of a smiling, dark-haired woman with smooth, olive-complexion skin.
“Is this her?” Cee-Cee asked softly.
He was still for a moment as his eyes rested on the photograph, and then he gave a brief nod.
“She is…” Cee-Cee paused. “Was, gorgeous. She was straight up Italian, that’s for sure. Look at all that hair. The sun in the photo catches the highlights nice.”
She put the photo back and studied the others.
“It’s funny how genetics work,” she continued as she talked over her shoulder. “Your kids look just like you but have her coloring. It’s strange to see your face with dark hair. Isn’t it…”
She stopped in mid sentence when she saw the tears in his eyes.
“Dennis?” she said softly.
“I haven’t been in here since she died,” he said through tears. “I do all my work upstairs on the laptop because I can’t be in here.”
“Oh Dennis, baby, I am so sorry.”
She walked over to him and held him in her arms as he cried on her shoulder.
On the final day of the visit, Dennis could not focus. His cathartic moment the night before coupled with Cee-Cee’s departure left him in a tailspin of uncertainty. He tried persuading Cee-Cee into extending her stay but he couldn’t dissuade her, not even to stay for one extra day. So he sat quietly as he watched her pack her things.
“If you leave anything, I can send it to you,” he said, his eyes watching her flit around the room.
“I think I got everything, but when I get on that airplane, I’m going to feel as though I forgot something. Know what I mean?”
He nodded in agreement and she stopped what she was doing after she got a good look at him. He looked haggard and drawn and she knew he hadn’t slept well; he tossed and turned practically the entire night. The only time he slept soundly was when she held him, she felt like his mother instead of his lover. Looking at him made her feel bad for leaving him in such a state.
“Dennis, I think you should see a counselor. You need someone to help you cope with all this.”
“I need you, Cee-Cee,” he said in small voice, his eyes lowered.
She kneeled in front of him and took his hands in hers.
“No, baby, you think you need me, but the person you need isn’t able to be with you any more. You have to come to terms with that and then find a way to move on. Me staying longer would only make things worse for you. I don’t want to lull you into a security I’m not able to give.”
Whatever openness that developed during the visit was gone in a finger snap and her heart dropped into her stomach. The change in him was so sudden, it took her aback. His eyes grew cold and his voice was void of emotion. He pulled his hands out of hers and stood.
“Fine, then. Got all your stuff? Ready to go?”
“Dennis, don’t be this way.”
“Be what way? Come on, you don’t want to miss you flight.”
He abruptly walked out of the room, and when she heard the front door slam she muttered under her breath,
“Damn.”
An indescribable giddiness came over her as the plane touched down on the tarmac in her home state. She was anxious over the inefficient speed in which her luggage came, silently cursed the evil trolls at the long-term parking booth, and was impatient over the traffic from the airport. Her husband was home and she almost leapt into his arms when he walked out the front door to greet her. After a lengthy kiss, Tommy asked her,
“How was the conference?”
She stroked the side of his face tenderly. “Enlightening, but I’ll never go to that conference again. Enough about me, how was your week?”
Cee-Cee and Tommy, to celebrate their wedding anniversary, decided to have dinner in an upscale restaurant they had never tried located in a hotel downtown. They were shown to their table, which was close to the bar, and given glasses of ice water until their waiter arrived. As they were examining their surroundings, Cee-Cee’s eyes caught a familiar sight at the bar. It was Dennis and he wasn’t alone. Dressed in a sports jacket, oxford shirt, khakis and loafers, hair gelled within an inch of its life, he was conversing intimately with a woman. The woman, whose ethnicity might have been bi- racial, was clearly younger that Dennis. She was shapely and dressed in a black, sleeveless dress that rode up her thigh and black stiletto pumps. Gone was the goatee, instead he was clean-shaven. She watched as the young woman touched his face in an affectionate manner, and from her view she could see Dennis’s hand on her thigh. As the young woman tried to get the bartender’s attention, Dennis’s eyes roamed the room casually and came to rest on Cee-Cee’s table. She froze in panic, their eyes locked for a beat, and then his eyes traveled to Tommy.
“What’s up?” Tommy asked when he saw a curious expression on her face. He turned his head in the direction of her gaze. “You know that guy?”
Dennis broke contact the minute Tommy turned his head. She sighed and turned her attentions back to her husband.
“I thought I knew him from long ago. But I was mistaken.”
Comments