Catch Me Twice

by Charmaine Pauls

  “He’s getting so big,” Nancy says, pulling Noah’s red cap over his curls. “I can’t wait to have my own.”

  “My advice is to do all that traveling you want before starting a family.”

  “Nah.” She makes a face. “Steve doesn’t like to travel.” Her gaze moves to where Steve and Luan are standing at the edge of the water, a small distance away from the other men. “They sure seem to be having a serious discussion.”

  “About that.” It’s best I prepare her. Besides, I don’t want my best friend to hear the news from Steve. “There’s something Luan and I are meaning to tell you.”

  She looks back at me with a happy smile. “He’s giving you a pay rise?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “A promotion? A holiday? Business shares?”

  “We’re together.”

  Her smile vanishes. “I’m sure my ears just fooled me into hearing you’re with him, as in with him.”

  “Noah needs stability. Luan will be good for us.”

  “That’s convenience, not love.”

  “Love comes in many forms.”

  “Oh, come on, Kristi. You don’t have to bullshit me. I’m your best friend, remember?”

  “Aren’t you happy for us?”

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “I will be. I mean, I am.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “A couple of weeks ago.”

  “I don’t get it. Your behavior toward him hasn’t changed. I mean, you’re not acting like lovers.”

  “We’re not. We decided to do things properly, to wait until I’m divorced.”

  “Forgive me for saying this, but there’s no spark between the two of you.”

  “Our relationship isn’t like that. We grew close working together over the years. Luan brought it up one day during lunch. He’s lonely, and I’m tired of being alone. We’re not blind to our age difference, but we want the same things. Luan wants a companion, and I want stability. Battling it out on my own is exhausting, both emotionally and financially. It will be nice to have a partner for a change.

  “We talked about my situation with a non-existing husband and him being a widower for four years. We’re both at a point in our lives where we’re ready to move on. It’s important to him that we remain respectable. That’s why I asked for a divorce. We decided to wait until I’m legally separated.”

  “Wow. Then it’s serious.”

  “We’re getting married as soon as my divorce goes through.”

  “Fuck.” She covers her mouth with a hand. “Sorry, Noah.”

  Steve’s face turns toward me, his forehead scrunched up. “It doesn’t look like he’s taking it well.”

  “You do realize if you marry Luan, that will make you my mother-in-law?”

  I smack her arm. “It’s not funny.”

  She giggles. “Yes, Mom.”

  “I’m serious, Nancy. Cut it out. It’s hard enough as it as.”

  “How’s Gina taking it?”

  I search the crowd and find my mother sitting on the edge of the mud wall, her legs dangling over the side with her feet in the water. Eddie approaches with a soft drink, asking something. She smiles and takes the can when he pops it. Eddie’s been nice to us ever since I fell pregnant, giving us freebies and dropping off our groceries.

  “My mom is happy for us. You know it’s not in her blood to be judgmental.”

  “Neither am I—” Nancy starts, and then bites off her words with a mumbled, “Shit.”

  I follow her gaze and freeze.

  Jake is crossing the lawn, looking dark, dangerous, and broody in a pair of well-worn jeans and a faded T-shirt. His gaze roams over the crowd until he spots us. He gives me a half-smile and a nod but doesn’t approach. He cuts away in the opposite direction. I’m unable to move or look away. It’s yesterday reincarnated, when he pinned me down in the mud on this very shore before the municipality covered the memory with grass and flowers. My body reacts to the picture in my mind as if it’s never forgotten. Dormant parts of my anatomy begin to tingle. There’s a buzzing noise in my ears.

  “You all right?” Nancy asks softly.

  My effort at uttering a carefree laugh fails miserably. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You’re whiter than icing sugar.”

  “Blood sugar. I need to eat.”

  “I’ll get you something,” she says, but before she can push to her feet, Luan and Steve appear next to us.

  “It’s done,” Luan says, dusting his hands as if he’s just dug a grave.

  Steve’s smile is no less warm than usual. “Congrats, you guys. I’m glad for you. You both deserve someone. The only line I’m going to draw is calling you Mom, Kristi.”

  Nancy bursts out laughing. “That’s what I said.”

  “It’s no joking matter,” Luan says, his face tight.

  Someone opens a trunk, exposing two monster car speakers, and a popular song starts to play.

  Steve pulls Nancy into his arms. “Dance with me?”

  They walk off with their arms around one another’s waists toward a group already moving their bodies to the rhythm of the music.

  Luan takes a seat next to me on the blanket. “That went well.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Shall we say hi to Mozie? I want to chat with him about a business contract he asked me to look at.”

  “You go. I’ll stay with Noah.”

  “It’s Tessa’s turn to watch the kids. Let him play with the other children. It’ll do him good.”

  At the edge of the water, kids are throwing breadcrumbs at the ducks. “I don’t know.” Noah won’t be the youngest in the group. Maddy is two months younger, but Noah can’t express himself. My mom and I are the only ones who understand his non-verbal language.

  “You’ve got to cut the ties a little.” Luan gets up and waits. “Let him mix with kids of his own age. It may even help him with his speech impairment.”

  “It’s not an impairment.”

  “Delay,” he corrects with his ever-present patience.

  When I look toward the kids again, my heart skips a beat. Jake stands to the side, talking to none other than Britney, his matric dance date. She’s married now with two kids, but that doesn’t stop her from twisting a lock of hair around her finger and giving him a sultry smile. Her husband is too focused on putting bait on the hook of his fishing rod to notice. Jake seems absorbed in their conversation, laughing at whatever she said.

  Tearing my gaze away, I push to my feet and pick Noah up. “Fine.”

  It shouldn’t hurt, but I can’t help the little twist of rejection that lances into my heart as I stride past Britney and Jake with Jake’s son in my arms. Not trusting my face to hide my feelings, I avoid a greeting by pretending not to notice them. Is it wrong of me to feel like this when I’m walking next to the man I intend to spend my future with?

  I leave Noah with the other kids in Tessa’s care and follow Luan to the beer table where he quickly gets into a deep discussion with Mozie, our butcher, about the legal implications of a contract. I do my best to follow the conversation, but after a while, my mind wanders.

  Is Jake serious about the house? A house means he’s truly planning on staying. How difficult will it be to see him every day and not think about our past? I don’t want to look at him, but I can’t help it. When I sneak in a glance, he’s still chatting to Britney. Hovering between a confusing mix of relief and shameful disappointment that he didn’t even come over to talk to us, I interrupt Luan to tell him I’m getting something to drink. I take a beer from the ice tub and unscrew the cap. The brew is bitter and refreshing. It goes down a lot easier than vodka, not that I’ve had any since the night Jake and I—

  Nope. Not going to go there. I look around for a diversion. Nancy is still dancing. I could join one of the groups, but I’m not in the mood for small talk. I walk toward the mud wall, but my mom is no longer there.

  Strolling along the edge of the wate
r, I seek out some privacy. The late afternoon is warm. A breeze plays in the air, lifting the leaves on the willow branches. It’s soothing weather, the kind that holds the gentle promise of an Indian summer. The music and voices are pleasant background noise with laughter piercing the banter from time to time. As these events go, the ambience is cheerful, but something inside me refuses to settle. Bittersweet nostalgia lingers in my chest. Damn Jake. I finally have my life on track. I didn’t need him to come back and stir these memories.

  I watch the sun as it sinks below the horizon. At the picnic site, the lanterns come on. By the time the golden hues of the sun turn to deep purple, my beer is finished, and I’m buzzing a little. Not ready to go back yet, I enter a canopy of willow branches reaching all the way to the ground that forms a clever hiding place. In the deepening dusk, I’m sheltered from view, but I can see the lantern lights through the veil of leaves. The smell of grilled beef sausage and smoke from the wood fires drift on the breeze, a familiar and welcoming fragrance. The party is in full swing. I better go back to see if Noah is hungry.

  As I turn, I bump into a hard chest. Gasping, I take a step back. I would’ve taken several steps, but a pair of strong hands catch my arms.

  “Easy.”

  Jake.

  There’s nothing easy about this, not when his hands burn my skin and there’s not enough space between us to take a breath or hide from disregarded memories.

  His piercing stare drills into mine. “You all right?”

  “Of course.”

  “What are you doing out here alone?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s dangerous. Someone could attack you.”

  “This is Rensburg. No one is going to attack me.”

  “You never know.”

  “Thanks for your concern, but I just needed some air.”

  His harsh stare softens. He slides a hand up my arm, all the way to my shoulder. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you look sad.”

  “I have to get back.” I try to pull away again, but he doesn’t let go. He keeps me in place with one hand on my shoulder while he lifts the other to my face. “What are you doing?” I flinch as he wipes a thumb over the scar on my cheek, sending a bolt of awareness through my body.

  He pulls me closer at the same time as he lowers his head. It’s not a fast action that allows no room for escape. It’s slow and intentional. I know where it’s going even before his lips feather over mine, but I can’t move. I can’t flee. My heart is pumping with a rhythm I haven’t felt in four years. It’s as if I’m waking from a coma.

  He molds his lips carefully around mine, meticulously, letting me feel the full impact of their heat and pressure. For a moment, it’s all he does, savoring the shape of my mouth, but it’s enough to make my knees weak. He smells of cheap aftershave and cotton, a scent that infiltrates my nostrils and makes me want to weep with the promise of belonging. My common sense screams at me to run. Warnings of imminent regret go off in my brain, but my starving senses greedily suck up the sudden overload. It’s pathetic how needy I am. It’s dangerous. It makes everything that came after Jake seem like mere reflections of emotions.

  Whatever little reason I have left flies from my mind when he supports my head in his big palm and curls an arm around my waist, pulling me impossibly tight against his body. I gasp into his mouth. He answers with a hungry groan. I steal his oxygen and drag it deep into my lungs. We’re living on the same air. Time falls away, and I’m back in his arms as if I’ve never left them, as if fifty women haven’t since been pressed up against the dizzying masculinity of his chest or the hardness of his arousal. It’s the bitter to the sweet, a reminder of what Jake is and why I’ve been walking the shore alone like someone who misses what she’s never had.

  The thought pierces through the haze of my lust. I place my palms on his chest to push him away, but he dips his knees and presses harder on my lower back, encouraging me to ride his erection. For a crazy moment, I almost do. For a crazy moment, I almost ignore who he is and why we are here. I almost lose all control when he moves his palm lower, gripping my ass and pulling me into the cradle of his groin.

  I’m high on his kiss, panting into his mouth, and lost in his maleness. I’m barely hanging on to the threads of my pride, whimpering when he growls deep in his throat as he parts my legs with a thigh. At the sound of my moan, he threads his fingers through my hair and deepens the kiss. The pull at my roots and the scrape of his teeth over my bottom lip are my undoing. I sag against him, like clay in his thorough hands. God, how I missed this. How I craved the depraved foreplay no gentleman would ever give.

  His grip on my hair tightens as his free hand searches for the button of my jeans. He pops it with a skilled flick, a sad reminder of how well versed he is in women’s clothing. The notion punctures my heart, but it’s not enough to break the powerful spell of lust he holds over me, not when his hand dips down the front of my jeans and into my panties. I hang onto him for life, my arms snaked around his neck as he rests three fingers over my folds, the middle digit lightly covering my slit, gently exploring, testing. When he curls that finger up to tease my clit, I arch into the touch. I’m a wanton woman possessed by a demon. I’m beyond logical thought, beyond caring.

  “Kristi,” he whispers against my lips, sounding as if he’s in pain.

  I understand what he’s asking. He’s asking me to take away the unbearable need, and there’s only one answer. I’m about to give him that answer when giggling comes from nearby. Cruelly, the sound pulls me back to reality. My body stiffens in shock. Shame heats my face. Jake jerks his hand from my jeans, but there’s not enough time to put distance between us before the owners of the voices round the wall of willow branches.

  Hand in hand, Gina and Eddie come to an abrupt halt. We stare at each other, four sets of wide eyes.

  Jake comes to his senses first. “We were just getting some air.”

  My mom and Eddie? “Mom?”

  Tugging on my hand, Jake pulls me out from under the canopy. “We’ll catch you later.”

  Gina’s gaze follows us, a mixture of worry and shock etched on her face.

  “Let go,” I say when we’re a short distance away, pulling on Jake’s hold. I’m angry and confused. Betrayed. By myself.

  He stops to look at me. “You’re not going to pretend that kiss didn’t happen.”

  I open my mouth to tell him that’s exactly what I’m going to do when someone screams.

  “Noah,” Tessa yells from farther up the shore. “Noah’s in the water!”

  Chapter 13

  Kristi

  Sweat breaks out over my skin and a sick feeling settles in my stomach. My brain screams run but my feet are stuck to the ground. In the second it takes for my body to move, Jake is already sprinting up the shore. I’m faintly aware of my mom calling my name, but I don’t stop to acknowledge her. When a red cap floating on the water comes into view, everything else cuts out. Seconds have lapsed, too many seconds, and a horrific fear stabs into my gut as Jake dives into the water even before he’s at the beer table.

  With a few powerful strokes, he reaches the ripples circling out from around my baby’s cap. He sucks in air and dives under the water. Breathless, I reach the shore as the other adults get there and dive in after Jake. Tessa is on her knees, hugging her stomach, crying and muttering she can’t swim. I don’t think. I dive in after the others, using every ounce of strength I possess to propel myself through the water.

  Dragging in a hasty breath, I duck below the surface. I barely feel the sting on my eyes as I open them. The water is murky, and it’s dark. Grass and dislodged mud from the bed of the lake obscure my view. I feel around frantically, trying hard not to give in to the sobs and pull water into my lungs.

  I come up for air and am about to dive again when Jake’s voice rings out.

  “I’ve got him.”

  My breath catches. The three men who went in after Jake move out of the way. In the midst of their
circle, Jake clutches Noah to his chest. Using one arm, he swims to the shore with backstrokes while everyone offers hands and advice.

  I rush after them, adrenaline giving me an extra spurt of strength. Jake hands Noah to Gina. Dr. Santoni is already there. There’s a blur of bodies as someone offers a blanket, and someone else asks if he should call an ambulance. Jake pushes himself out of the water and drops to his knees next to the doctor and Noah.

  Someone offers me a hand as I pull myself up the muddy wall to the embankment. There’s a cough and a cry. Noah’s cry. My legs sag. Falling down next to Jake, warm wetness mixes with the cold water on my cheeks.

  “He’s fine,” Dr. Santoni says. “Swallowed water and had a mighty fright, but there’s no need for an ambulance.”

  Picking a crying Noah up gently, I hug him to my chest and make sure I keep the blanket around him. My tears are from joy and fright, from acknowledging everything I could’ve lost in brown ripples of muddy water.

  My gaze locks with Jake’s. His face is ashen, his cheeks smeared with mud. Pieces of underwater grass stick to his wet T-shirt. His chest rises and falls rapidly. Sitting back on his heels, he rests his palms on his thighs while his shoulders sag in a gesture of exhaustion and relief. I know, because I suffer the same symptoms.

  “Thank you,” I mouth, pressing my lips to the top of my baby’s head.

  The moment stretches, words unnecessary as our gazes communicate what no one else can understand. The only person in the world who can truly share my devastation with the same intensity is Jake. No one, no matter how much they care, can feel what we do. For a bizarre instant, the knowledge brings a measure of relief. I’m not alone. As long as Noah is a part of both of us, I’ll never be alone, no matter the distance or differences between us.

  Someone throws a blanket over my shoulders. I’m shivering. More picnic blankets are handed out for Jake and the other men who dived in. Jake thanks the men before he gets herded away to warm himself by the fire. His gaze searches mine from over his shoulder, but the circle of people around Noah and me forms a buffer between us.