Swelter

by Nina G. Jones

  He dragged his feet, heavy from the booze, into the house. As if last night hadn't happened, he came up behind me sliding his hands along my waist. “Where's Bobby?” he whispered.

  “He's in the shower,” I replied shrugging off his advances.

  “What's wrong?”

  I shook my head, not believing I had to explain to him why I was upset. “Do I really have to tell you? You put me on the spot out there. A move like that is a decision we both make. You don't just spring it on me and assume that's something I want to do, too.”

  “What? They offered the job. I took it. Case closed. What can you do here that you can't do anywhere else? My career comes first, it puts the food on the table, the roof over your

  head . . . that nice car of yours in the driveway.” He pointed towards the front of the house.

  “You wanted to be the only breadwinner. I went to college too. I could have a career. Just because you don't want me to work, doesn't mean I have no say in anything.”

  “You want a job, Lilly? Is that what this is about?” He chuckled mockingly. “Come

  on . . . you've been taken care of your entire life. Daddy's little girl. You're smart, but you wouldn't last a day out there.”

  “Stop treating me like a child!” I yelled, slamming the dish in my hand in the sink. “Stop making decisions for me like I am too stupid to take care of myself. I am your wife, not your kid!”

  “Well, maybe if we had some you wouldn't be so restless!”

  I turned away from the sink and scowled. “How dare you . . . have you considered that it might be you who has the issue, Rory? I got checked out. I'm fine. You want to talk about childish behavior? How about the fact that you refuse to get yourself looked at? Your stubbornness might be the reason this house has no children!”

  I had done it. Delivered the grand blow. I spoke what had remained unspoken this entire time. Challenged his manhood.

  “Lilly, you are such a bitch.” Rory sneered, his face glowering as if he could taste the bitterness of his own words.

  I gasped like that word was a dagger that had stabbed me in the chest.

  He paused for a moment, I could see the wheels turning in his inebriated brain, and then threw his hands up. “We're going to Minneapolis. I'm not discussing it.” Rory made a beeline for the front of the house and slammed the front door behind him. The car screeched out of the driveway.

  I screamed in frustration, slamming my fists on the edge of the sink before turning to see Bobby standing at the entrance to the kitchen, a towel wrapped around his waist, dripping wet. His face wore a fixture of pity and disappointment. Rory had mostly been on his best behavior since Bobby had arrived, and this was the first time he had witnessed the ugliness that brewed in the walls of his house.

  “You two are no good for each other,” he said, before turning and walking back to his room.

  I didn't follow. It wasn't fair to seek his consolation about the brother I had chosen over him. I wouldn't make myself a wedge between them. I created this problem and I was going to have to find a way to solve it.

  Seven Years Earlier

  As the reception went on, I kept an eye out for Bobby. I hadn't seen him since his speech, but the property was vast, there were many guests, and I understood why he wouldn't want to see Rory and me. Yet something felt deeply unsettled. After those words he delivered, a eulogy to our love, I feared his absence signaled something more. What? I didn't know, but there was an empty feeling when he left the reception.

  “Why don't you say we get some sleep?” Rory asked. I knew what that meant. Rory was like any other man, eager to consummate his marriage. The guests had filtered out, and the cabin which housed my bridal room was now ours for the night. The next day Rory and I would leave for our honeymoon.

  “Sure. Where's Bobby? I never got the chance to thank him for his speech.”

  “Who knows? There were a lot of girls and it's Bobby. He's probably having fun with one as we speak.”

  I faked a smile to mask the sensation of being stabbed in the heart.

  On that note, we headed into the cabin.

  “I need to change,” I told Rory.

  Rory grinned. “Okay, gorgeous.”

  He left for the bedroom, and I went back to the room in which I had last been alone with Bobby. Makeup and items from the vanity were still scattered on the floor. I sat in front of it and looked at myself in the mirror. I was nervous. I had gone from never having sex to having to fake the loss of my virginity with my new husband within the span of 24 hours. I dropped my head into my hands as I sighed, and that's when my eyes caught the ring. The one I had dropped and Bobby had retrieved. The token of love and commitment from someone to whom I could never return the favor. I smiled when I saw the pretty thing and picked it up, gently pressing it to my lips in Bobby's stead. I grabbed a handkerchief and rolled it up, slipping it into a jewelry box. Then I changed out of my dress into a fresh slip, unpinned my hair, spritzed on some jasmine perfume, and made my way to the bedroom.

  The Livelys were blessed with good genes. Rory was attractive. But the prospect of lying with my own husband made me feel as though I was being unfaithful to Bobby.

  I slowly opened the bedroom door and Rory stopped unbuttoning his cuffs when he caught sight of me. He looked handsome, his hair a little out of place and the top of his shirt already undone. “I know I keep saying this, but you look beautiful. I am a very lucky man.”

  He made his way over to me, softly gripping the back of my neck and pulling me in for a kiss. At first I stiffened in response to his touch, but then I relented. I was torn between my feelings towards Bobby and my carnal curiosity about sex with Rory. After all, he and I had battled not to go this far. It wasn't like we never wanted to. In fact, I hoped that I would be overcome with passion for Rory. Then I would know I made the right choice.

  Rory placed a soft kiss on my lips. “Don't be nervous,” he uttered against them.

  I nodded. But I was. I was afraid as soon as he entered me, he would know that I had already given myself to another man.

  He slid his hand along the silky, lavender-hued fabric of the nightgown and pulled me close to him. I felt how hard he already was, how much he yearned for me. “I'll try to make sure it doesn't hurt, okay?”

  I nodded.

  He ran his hands along the mound of my backside, gripping me. “You're so soft,” he cooed.

  I smiled at the warmth in his green eyes.

  He ran his middle fingers under the straps of the nightgown and pulled them away from my shoulders, then down, just enough to expose my breasts. He kissed one on the tip, then around it, up my neck.

  “Here,” he said, taking my hand and pressing it against his bulge. “Look how hard you've made me.”

  Holding him in my hand awakened a stirring in between my legs.

  “Take it out,” he asked.

  I unbuttoned his pants and slid them down. He popped up, eager to finally feel what it was like to be inside of me.

  “It would help if you put your mouth on it,” he suggested. I had used my hands on Rory before, but never my mouth. In fact I had never used my mouth like that before. Bobby didn't ask, he gave, and I didn't have the experience to initiate it.

  I looked up at him innocently, licked my lips, and knelt like an obedient wife.

  “All you have to do is put your mouth on it and go up and down. No teeth,” he instructed. He took my hand and placed it around the base of his shaft. “You can do it with your hand at the same time.”

  I cautiously wrapped my lips around him and followed his directions. He filled my mouth with his desire, rocking gently back and forth to assist my pace. Tears filled my eyes as he reached the back of my throat.

  “Just like that,” he encouraged in a low voice.

  Rory grew even more in my mouth before stopping. He helped me to my feet and pulled down the rest of my nightgown so that I was exposed, but he was still mostly clothed. I motioned at his shirt, and he assist
ed by pulling it off and completely ridding himself of his pants and underwear. Rory was a lacrosse player and his fit, athletic body was something to behold. He took my hand and led me to the bed, where he guided me onto my back.

  His erection was still wet from my mouth as he crawled over me. I opened my legs to receive him. Bobby was still there, in the back of my thoughts, just as he had always been. But right now, I was alone lying naked with my husband, and that could be my only concern.

  Rory pushed himself in as if I was a virgin, inching his way inside of me. It still hurt, as I had only had sex a few times before, and unlike Bobby, he didn't use his fingers or mouth to ready me. I think he liked hearing my uncomfortable gasps as he forced his way into me. I dug my fingers into his back and clung to him. But after the first few thrusts, the discomfort subsided, and it felt good to have him inside of me, filling me.

  “Lilly, oh baby . . .” he grunted into my ear. “You have the tightest little peach,” he muttered into my neck as he rocked back and forth inside of me.

  And then he let out a great sigh, his body contracting and relaxing.

  Rory collapsed onto my naked body, a thin layer of perspiration between us, and closed his eyes. I wondered if he would look to see if I bled. But I wasn't some medieval queen. Rory trusted me. And he would have been right to had things not drastically changed yesterday.

  He kissed me softly. “That was amazing, Lilly. You were so good.” He brushed my cheekbone with his thumb, rolled over, and fell asleep.

  Summer 1957

  The air conditioner didn't help me sleep after Rory had stormed out of our house. I laid awake in the bedroom, the low rumble of the cooling unit now replacing the ticking of the clock. I felt that I was close to the edge of something, teetering like I was balancing on the ledge of a building. But I didn't know which way to swing my arms or legs to regain balance. Every choice would lead to falling.

  I knew I was close to losing Bobby again, and yet, I didn't trust my own instincts to beg him to run off with me. Bobby had been gone for seven years, he had only been back for a little over three weeks. Was that enough time to be sure? To get up and walk away from my current life? Because that was what we would have to do. We would have to start over. We would lose friends and family. We would be breaking an unbreakable rule.

  Late into the night, I heard Rory pulling in. My stomach churned with anxiety. He probably got even drunker. But he didn't come into the bedroom right away. Instead I heard two deep voices reverberating through my door. I cracked the bedroom door open, and heard Bobby and Rory talking downstairs.

  Rory was especially coherent. He must have left to sober up instead of drink. Though that was a good thing, it wasn't enough. Rory always did just enough to keep me around, but he always stopped there.

  “I know, man,” Rory said to Bobby. “I'm trying. I slipped up today. I didn't think she'd be so mad about the move. It happens all the time! Husbands move their families around. I'm trying to give her a better life.”

  “Ro, have you ever really asked her what she wants? Not what you think is a better life for her, but what she thinks is missing?” It was bizarre to hear Bobby counseling his brother about our relationship. I sympathized with how hard this must be for him, both wanting the best for Rory and what was best for himself. I understood why he didn't like who he was becoming. Every word, every hug, every kind gesture towards Rory was stained with our betrayal. Everything Bobby said or did was laced with the poison of a lie so big, that eventually it would consume their brotherhood. What was best for one brother, was devastation for the other. Bobby was faced with an impossible choice when giving Rory advice: betray his brother or himself.

  “Bobby, she doesn't know what she wants.”

  I did. The problem was Rory could never provide it. He was fighting a battle he had no chance of winning.

  “Maybe she's scared to tell you.”

  “You know, I had a memory I hadn't thought of in a long time.” Rory changed the subject.

  “What's that?” Bobby asked.

  “Remember when we were . . . I guess you'd have been seven and I was eight. We would go deep into the forest to climb the thick, old trees? I fell off the tree and broke my ankle.”

  “Oh yeah. It's foggy, but I do.”

  “The thing was just bent and ugly.”

  “Yeah. That I can't forget.”

  “And you, for some reason, you didn't want to leave me alone to get help. So you made me piggyback onto you. And you carried me home. I was just a mess. Hurt like hell.”

  “Yeah. I did do that, didn't I?” Bobby recalled.

  “Yeah you did,” Rory said.

  I waited for Rory to add to the story. To interpret it in some way. Maybe ask Bobby why six years ago, he did leave Rory behind. Or for Bobby to ask for more details about the day he carried the full weight of his brother on his back through the unforgiving terrain. A feat for any boy, but a seven-year-old? That's a heroism far beyond his years. But they didn't say anything for several seconds.

  Finally Bobby spoke. “I should head to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”

  “I do too. Actually, I'm going to go out of town for a few days. Last minute business.”

  “Oh, you just found out?”

  “Yeah, some customers in Illinois.” Rory sounded annoyed. The trip was news to me. The guilt I felt over hearing the two brothers bond was tempered by the possibility of more alone time with Bobby.

  I slid back into the bedroom and laid in the bed, pretending to sleep.

  Minutes later, Rory came in quietly, undressed and slid into bed with me.

  “I'm sorry, Lilly” he whispered. It was low, and I don't think his intention was to wake me, so I didn't respond. He turned away and went to sleep.

  By the time I got to the kitchen the next morning, both Rory and Bobby were up and moving. I dreaded walking in and facing them after the tense events of the night before.

  “Morning,” Bobby greeted me as I entered the kitchen. Rory was sitting with the paper.

  “Morning,” I replied.

  “Lilly, I have to go out of town. Been called on some last minute business,” Rory announced.

  “Okay,” I replied, without a hint of protest. I couldn't even feign surprise. What I was more interested in was Bobby being fully dressed and his rucksack sitting beside his chair at the table.

  “You want some toast, Lil?” Bobby asked.

  “No . . . actually I'll have a piece if you're making some.” I worked my way over to the coffee, preparing myself to ask the question. I had to do it with the same amount of detachment I felt about Rory's business trip, when inside, my thoughts were swirling with countless scenarios.

  I blew into the steamy mug. “You going somewhere?” I jutted my chin at the bag.

  “He's going to do a little traveling,” Rory interjected. “I begged him to stick around a while longer, but you know Bobby and his wanderlust—”

  “I'll stay in touch,” Bobby added. “I'm just heading west for a bit. I need to figure out what I'm going to do next.”

  My chest tightened as if an invisible force was clenching it from the inside. “Oh,” I said. “Well, don't be a stranger, you know.”

  “I made sure to make him promise to call at least once a week,” Rory said.

  “How long?” I asked.

  “A couple of months.”

  “And after that?”

  “Depends,” Bobby replied.

  I looked down at the coffee to take a sip, and noticed the dark liquid sloshing from my trembling hand. I put the cup down on the counter to hide my physical response. Bobby watched the whole thing with sorry eyes as Rory tended to his breakfast. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Bobby couldn't just sweep in and give me a taste of the life I was meant to have and then snatch it away like a thief. I knew things weren't perfect. I knew I had a choice to make. But I didn't trust Bobby's words. I didn't trust I would ever hear from him. It felt like he was dying on me all over again.<
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  “When do you head out?” I asked.

  “I'm not in a rush,” Bobby replied. With Rory's back to me, he gave me a subtle nod. A knowing look in his eyes told me there was more to the story. The anxiety of Bobby leaving shifted to nervous anticipation. I wanted an explanation. I wouldn't get that if he left before Rory. I hoped Bobby would linger after Rory left, but I just didn't know. Last night before I went to bed, both Lightlys would be here for the week, and now both were leaving. It was like I was waking up to a different world.

  “So where are you headed, hon?” I asked Rory as I picked apart my piece of toast. I couldn't afford to spend my emotions on still being angry at him while I was cashing them all in on Bobby and his surprise departure.

  “Illinois. I'll be back Thursday.” He wiped his hands over his plate. “I should go.” He stood up and grabbed his bag. “I'll call when I get there tonight.” He kissed me on the top of the head as I sat in my fog of uncertainty.

  Rory made his way over to Bobby, who was leaning against the counter. “Bobby, you don't know how glad I am to have you back. Never be a stranger again,” he said. “We're all we've got.”

  “Love you, brother,” Bobby replied. “Always remember that.”

  They embraced heartily and Rory headed for the door, looking back one last time at his brother before stepping out the front door.

  I thought when he left I would have a million questions. But all I felt was the burning sting of betrayal, so blazing, that it incinerated every thought before it could leave my lips.

  “Lil—”

  “Don't.” I replied, fighting back the tears. “You don't get to do this twice. You didn't even have the decency to tell me first,” I said through tight lips.

  “I thought you'd be up before Rory like you usually are. I wanted to tell you first.”