Maid to Love You

by Ylana MIlls

  "Nice to meet you, Mr. Camry," Eliza said, smiling at the car as she approached it. "I'm Eliza Clark."

  Devon chuckled, shaking his head. That woman had the most endearing habits indeed – talking to a car and giving it names had just entered the list of things he loved about her.

  “Your car is pretty well-kept," she said, searching inside the bag for something to eat. "Geez, what's with you and all the apples, apple juice, apple sauce, everything apple?"

  He licked his lip, and cast a sideway glance towards her before answering.

  "They say it makes semen taste better."

  She stopped rummaging the bag for a second.

  "O-Oh," she muttered, trying not to blush. "Thanks for the info. That was very… educational."

  She frowned, after locating a bag of cookies and taking one to her mouth.

  "You're welcome. I thought you would wanna know…" he whispered, "…since you're the one who's gonna swallow it."

  A piece of chocolate got stuck in her throat, and she started coughing profusely.

  "I'm sorry," she panted, after taking a large gulp of water from one of the bottles he had packed. "Since when do you get to decide that?"

  "Well... If I remember it right, your terms were... I wait seven days, you do whatever I want."

  Her eyes caught his for a moment, and she knew he meant every word.

  'Oh, Eliza… What have you done to yourself?' her mind moaned.

  "Oh... I see," she whispered.

  "But don't worry, I'm a generous man."

  She shifted uncomfortably on her seat as she eyed him. What the hell was that man planning? There she was, all joyous over the fact it was Saturday, and that soon enough the two of them would be allowed to succumb to all their carnal passions without any restraints… However, she had forgotten that little detail of their bargain: he would be the one calling all the shots. He would be the one who would have whatever he wanted.

  And now that she thought about it, 'whatever he wanted' was a scarily broad category…

  "You know… now that we are on that matter, I should ask." She should, indeed. At least, it would give her a chance to prepare for what was coming. "Do you intend to… you know… go anal on me?"

  Devon felt his eye had twitched rather visibly. Eliza Clark. One moment she was choking over a cookie as they talked about sperm, the other, she popped such a question with nothing but casualty in her voice.

  "I-I-I…uh…t-this.. y-you…uh," he stuttered.

  "Just so I get… prepared, if you know what I mean."

  He swallowed. He had a faint idea of what kind of preparation she was talking about.

  "Are you one of those guys obsessed with the butt, and nothing but?"

  "Uh… I… well, I…"

  "You are, aren't you?"

  "No, actually, I…" he felt he was blushing. Were they really talking about anal sex? Really? "Ineverdonit."

  "What?"

  Of course she would make him repeat that.

  "I've never… done it."

  "You mean you've never had anal sex with a woman?"

  "No. Or with a man, just so we're clear," he said. "Why are you laughing?"

  "I don't think I've ever seen someone blush so much in my entire life."

  He swallowed, feeling that his ears were burning.

  "Thanks for pointing that out."

  "Seriously? Were you never curious?"

  "Of course I was curious. I… I am curious, but… uh… I just never had the chance."

  The most absolute truth. Such had been his fate: either he would come across a woman who was likely to agree to do it, but never actually gather the nerve to suggest it, or simply suggest it to the women who would never contemplate the possibility. In either scenario, it always ended with him not doing it, and sometimes, getting kicked out of the bed.

  "But do you want to?"

  "What?"

  "Do it… with me?"

  His hands were sweaty. He stole a glance at Eliza, and saw that she was biting her lower lip. The Lord was testing him again. Images were filling his mind, images of him doing it with her. Oh, the temptation. He had condoms. He could sure find something to use as lube. All he had to do was pull over and have her kneel on her seat, her legs pointed towards the door as her hands rested on his seat… Then he could enter her from behind while he stood outside the car and…

  'Oh, my thoughts, please stop… stop…'

  A very loud sound broke his reverie: he had shifted into the wrong gear, and Mr. Camry was complaining. As he tried to remember how to drive, Eliza chuckled by his side. Good that she was having fun while he struggled with his thoughts. Good for her, indeed.

  "Well, you didn't sound very excited about it when you brought it up," he finally said, after some of the blood returned to his brain.

  "That's because… you know… I never met anyone who could do it well."

  "And you believe someone who has never done it… has a better chance of getting it right?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

  "I can guide you through it."

  "Well, thanks," he muttered, trying not to let thoughts of Eliza guiding him through it fill his head. "That's very gracious of you."

  "So… do you want it?"

  'My God, woman, what do you think?' his mind yelled.

  "Y-Yes."

  From the corner of his eye, he could see her smile broaden, and he got the feeling that was exactly the answer she wanted to hear.

  "Now can we please change the subject?" he said, after taking a long, deep breath.

  "Well, you were the one who came up with the semen talk, don't blame me."

  "Which I now thoroughly regret, thank you very much."

  "You're welcome."

  And so, for the next hour or so, they kept talking, but this time, about much more trivial things, like the neighbors, the projects she was developing at the school, the nicest places to get a drink in town, and such.

  At a certain point, though, Eliza realized something was off.

  "Honestly, Devon, what are you up to?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, we've been on the road for almost two hours! You can't live that far away."

  He smiled, and slowly took a left turn that led to a trail. He parked the car, and kept looking at his hands, which were still clutching the steering wheel.

  "We're here."

  "What?"

  "This is where I live."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "The car, Mr. Camry, I… I live in the car."

  He avoided her gaze for a moment, knowing by the stiffness of her shoulders that she was having a hard time believing her ears.

  "No you don't," she snorted.

  "I do."

  "No way! I mean… where do you take showers, and… and iron your clothes…"

  He wrinkled his forehead, and finally turned his head to look at her.

  "And do the laundry… and… "

  Without saying a word, he kept staring at her, tilting his head slightly.

  And then, it dawned on her. There was only one place where he could do all of that.

  "No! Devon!"

  "Yes."

  "No!" as she spoke, Eliza was sure she sounded absolutely shocked. And she was shocked. "You've been living in a car for all the time we've known each other? And you never told me?"

  "I am telling you now."

  "You could be living with me, why didn't you say something?"

  "Eliza, I… I'm not complaining," he said, smiling lightly at the thought of… living with her. "And I just didn't find the right moment."

  "You're crazy. How…"

  "Look, there are certain… advantages, you know. Like, when I can't sleep, I drive around and end up in some pretty cool places," he bit his lip as he explained. "I can see the stars… the sea."

  "Like, after a 2-hour drive?"

  "Sometimes."

  "Has it ever occurred to you that with the money you are spending on gas you might
actually find some place to live?"

  "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don't want to?"

  Eliza shook her head, trying to make sense of any of it. He lived in a car, for Heaven's sake! How screwed up was that? And yet he was not complaining. And he had actually quit the only job he had, his only source of income at the moment, to be with her…

  "You're a very strange man, Devon," she whispered.

  "Guilty," he said, moving closer to her to press his lips against hers. He pulled back as soon as he felt the tip of her tongue sneak past his lips. As much as he wanted to deepen that kiss, he knew it wouldn't take much for him to lose the last bits of self-control he had. "Come on, let's go."

  Eliza let out a sigh when she joined him outside, and followed him down the trail. After a short walk, the two of them were overlooking a stretch of white sand bathed by the most crystalline waters she had ever seen. The sky was shining with gold as sunset approached, the few clouds amidst the reddening blue tinged with pink.

  "Wow," she whispered, letting the sound of the waves breaking on the sea shore wash over her.

  "Right?"

  "Where are we?"

  "Port St. Joe. But we actually took an alternative route. Not many people come to this part of the beach."

  "It's beautiful…"

  "It is… And the cool thing is that it's never crowded," he said, as he took off his shoes and rolled up his jeans. "Walk with me?"

  Eliza grabbed his hand after she too got rid of her flats, and the two of them walked towards the sea. They both looked at the ocean for a long moment, each of them with their own set of memories, trying to find some healing as the waves swept their feet.

  "Do you like camping?" he asked.

  "Hell yeah," Eliza responded, turning around and walking backwards by his side to be able to see his face. "It's actually one of the things I like best."

  "Me too. I guess it's another advantage of living in a car," he replied. "I can just set my tent wherever I want to… make it my home for the night."

  "You don't have to live in a car to go camping, you know?"

  He bit his lip at her remark. When he looked at her, she shrugged, a smile splattered across her face.

  "The invitation is still on."

  He looked away, trying to make sense of what exactly she was offering him. Obviously, she felt sorry for his situation, and wanted to do what any good friend would do: offer him some comfort. A bed to sleep in, a shower, a decent roof over his head. Still, there was something awkward about accepting that invitation: when they finally moved in together, he didn't want it to be because she felt sorry for him, but because she really wanted him to be with her. And not as a friend in need. As a man. As her man.

  He looked at her again, and kicked some water towards her. Minutes later, he did it again, and she did the same.

  And then it was his turn, and by now she was actually angry that she was soaking wet while he had nothing but a few splashes of water on his jeans.

  "Will you stop?" she yelled, shoving him to the side.

  "Will you stop?" he repeated, imitating his voice and kicking more water towards her, a childish grin spreading on his face.

  "Goddammit, Devon!"

  And then, she pushed him again, and he playfully returned the gesture, perhaps with the slightest hint of excessive strength.

  She tumbled to the side rather clumsily, looking up at him with her glasses falling from her ear.

  "Whaaat?"

  "Oh Gosh, I'm sorry," he laughed, outstretching a hand to help her get back on her feet.

  "You brute!" she replied, laughing as well. "Is this your idea of a romantic walk on the beach?"

  She ignored his hand and got back on her feet on her own, glaring at Devon as she did so.

  However, he was still busy laughing at her fall to notice, and when he finally realized what was going on, Eliza had already grabbed his arm and pulled him over her head. When his back landed with a thud on the sandy surface, he felt he could barely breathe.

  It was Eliza's turn to burst into laughter.

  "Eat that, tough boy."

  He blinked, still trying to understand how she had been able to execute that throw so easily.

  "No one knocks over Eliza Clark and lives to tell the tale."

  "The… the hell?" he stuttered, slowly bringing himself to a sitting position. "How…?"

  "This is not a girls' world, my friend," she said, and it was her turn to offer him a hand. "A woman needs to know how to defend herself."

  "I see," he answered, grabbing her hand to get back on his feet. "Allow me to congratulate you on your self-defense techniques, then."

  "As long as you stay close…" she replied, pushing her glasses farther up her nose, "…I got your back."

  "Oh, so now you will be the knight in the shiny armor?"

  "Take it or leave it."

  "My God… Why do I always get such roles?" he whimpered, brushing the sand from his pants. "First, the maid. Now, the damsel in distress. I'm starting to worry."

  Eliza chuckled, and took that opportunity to steal a kiss from him, and then break into a run.

  "Come!" she said, climbing a rock and sitting cross-legged as she reached its top. "We are missing the sunset!"

  They were, indeed. He joined her on top of the rock, and the two of them spent many minutes watching the sun go down, and as night settled in, each of them thought, again, about their lives… There was something soothing in the fact that, this time, differently from all the others when they had revisited their own share of painful memories, they were not alone…

  "You know why I hired you?" she asked.

  He turned his head to look at her. As the moonlight fell upon her face, Devon thought she had never looked so beautiful.

  "Because of my irresistible charm?" he offered.

  "Well… That did factor into my decision, yeah…" she answered, trying to bite back a smile. "But actually… I needed someone to give me a hand packing stuff and cleaning up the place before I left."

  "Left?"

  "Yeah…" she stretched her legs in front of her as she prepared to tell him her tale. "I told you that I used to live in Phoenix, right? Before I actually moved here, I took a kind of road trip myself. I… I wanted to find my parents," she paused, and Devon realized there was a distinct tone of sadness in her voice. "Then next thing I know, I end up in Florida and the place really gets to me… I don't know why, but I just felt I should stay. So I did. For longer than I thought I would. And then, this one day I wake up, and I am feeling so sad. Because I knew I was kind of giving up hope to find them, you know?" she paused again, pulling her legs closer to her chest before she spoke again. "It felt wrong to stay. So, my mind was made up when I headed to our interview. I would hire someone to help me get things done, and then it was the road again."

  When she turned to look at his face again, his heart skipped a beat. He wondered what would have happened if he had never gotten married in the first place. Would he have ended up where he was now? Would he have even met Eliza Clark? If her parents hadn't abandoned her… and his father hadn't abandoned him… would their paths have crossed anyway?

  "But I guess life had other plans…" she whispered, still looking into his eyes.

  "So what are you gonna do?" he asked. As much as he wanted her to stay, he also wanted her to keep on searching. He wanted her to get closure, something he knew he himself would never get.

  "I'll keep on searching. I just… I just have to find another way. You know, it is almost as if they never existed. No documents, no nothing. They only left… a blanket with my name on it."

  Her chin trembled, and he knew she was doing her best not to cry. He understood what it felt like, to grow up alone, to feel you are not good enough.

  "I'm sure you will find them," he said, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

  "Yeah…" she replied, smiling sadly as she sniffed. "Thanks."

  Then, she shook her head and flexed h
er arms, trying to put her sadness aside for a moment.

  "Hey… that tent of yours you told me about… Do you still have it?"

  "Of course I do."

  "Why don't we camp here tonight?"

  "Eliza… It's one tent for the two of us," he whispered, wrinkling his forehead as he thought of all the possibilities that sharing that little space with Eliza offered. "Do you honestly think it will work?"

  "I can hold back."

  "Good for you."

  "I know you can, too, come on."

  Devon shook his head. That was not exactly how he had planned that night to end.

  "What about dinner?"

  "Do they open for lunch?"

  "I guess."

  "Then it's settled. Take me out tomorrow."

  "We don't have that much food."

  "I'm not hungry, I… I just really want to stay with you tonight."

  And then, her lips slightly curled backwards, and she looked so vulnerable and honest in her words that he found himself officially out of arguments.

  "Fine," he said, giving her a quick peck on the lips before he stood up. "Be right back."

  'Now that is going to be interesting,' his mind whispered in his ear. 'Moonlight… The sound of the ocean… The two of you in that tiny little tent…Really interesting.'

  "Point taken," Devon muttered to himself. "Now go back to sleep."

  A few minutes later, he was back, carrying the brown paper bag with their food, and all the other equipment they needed. When the tent had finally been set up, the two of them climbed inside, and lay on their backs, silently.

  "See? We can do this," Eliza said.

  "Just ma-"

  "Shut up."

  He chuckled, and after she had snuggled up against his chest, he pulled a blanket over the two of them.

  "And don't move."

  "Ok," Devon whispered.

  Now that felt nice. Just having her lie against his chest, the warmth of her body over his… Yeah. He could actually do it.

  "Good night, Devon."

  He pressed a kiss to her hair, and closed his eyes.

  "Night, Eliza."

  Chapter 9: Prelude to a Monday Night

  And then, it was Monday.