Saving Della-Ray

by Le Carre, Georgia

  “But not when your mother is around, okay?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she wants you to call her Mommy.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she loves you.”

  She looked confused. “She does?”

  I nodded.

  She was silent as she thought about it. “So what will I call you when she’s around then?”

  “Call me Della.”

  She made a face. “Oooo … I don’t like that.”

  “Well, you know we all have to do things we don’t like, right. I have to go to work even though I’d rather stay at home and play with you, but …”

  “You have to,” she finished.

  “Exactly. You don’t like eating broccoli, but …”

  “I have to,” she sang.

  “I don’t like eating spinach, but …”

  “You have to,” she sang even louder.

  I held back my laughter. “That’s right. You don’t like going to the dentist, but …”

  “You have to,” she screamed.

  “Well done,” I said then squashing her face to mine, I kissed her sweet, innocent mouth with a smacking noise. God, I loved her so much I would become a fugitive of the law and run away with her rather than let Denise put her in a home where she would be so frightened and lost. “Alright then. Let’s go have some breakfast. Nichole is making a full English breakfast for us.”

  Her eyes lit up. “English breakfast?”

  I grinned at her excited face. “Yup.”

  “With sausages?”

  “Yup.”

  “What about bacon?”

  “At least two slices per person,” I said with a grave nod.

  “And eggs too?”

  “Eggs too.”

  “Scrambled?” she asked, her hands clasped in front of her.

  “Scrambled,” I confirmed.

  “What about toast?”

  “That too.”

  “And orange juice.”

  I giggled. “Of course.”

  “Oh goodie, Mommy. We’re really having a big English breakfast!” she cried clapping her hands with glee.

  And that was what we did. As I watched her and Nichole eating, I felt happy. No matter what it took, even if it meant groveling at Denise’s feet or paying her money, I was determined to have Jess. By hook or by crook, I was keeping my baby.

  Della Ray

  As I went through my day I couldn’t stop thinking about Bone, but I also didn’t want to call him. I had shunned him so thoroughly the previous day and yet, he had come through so completely for me that I felt a deep-seated sense of shame about the way I had treated him.

  But by midday, I couldn’t take it anymore and I went out to the back of the diner and placed a call to him. My heart was racing as his phone rang. All morning, I had mentally rehearsed everything I wanted to say.

  Six rings in, when I had already decided to take the coward’s way and hang up, he picked up. My heart skipped a beat. “I’m not a crybaby,” I said.

  He went silent for a few seconds. “Della-Ray?’

  Immediately my paranoia went into overdrive. Hell, the man didn’t even remember who I was. I tried to laugh it off. “Ha, ha, you go around calling everybody crybabies?”

  “No, I only know one,” he said.

  I wrinkled my nose at the tease. “I uh ... I wanted to call to say thank you for last night.”

  “Sure.”

  What do I say now? What do I say? I say the stupidest thing I could, “Uh … okay. So … I’ll see you around?”

  “Have dinner with me?” he asked abruptly.

  “Sure,” I replied, releasing a long, pent-up breath of pure relief. It was a quiet night and I was sure Henry wouldn’t mind if I didn’t turn up. Most of the time I was aware they were giving me shifts because they knew I needed the money, anyway. I would miss the money from this shift, but maybe I could just cut back on something else.

  We agreed on a time and the call came to an end. I looked around the bare alley as I felt a surge of excitement and anticipation. I caught myself doing a little skip as I returned to the diner. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t put a halt to the foolishness.

  There’s nothing to this, I reminded myself.

  It was just a polite prelude to sex, but even though I had turned into almost a bodily function mode, I couldn’t restrain the buzz of excitement coursing through my veins.

  But an hour before the time he was supposed to pick me up for dinner, I was seated on the floor of my bedroom surrounded by clothes none of which was good enough for my dinner with him and feeling frustrated. I didn’t want to wear jeans again, but I had nothing else that was nice enough. I couldn’t even get into some of my old dresses because of all the weight I had lost.

  Nichole pushed the door open and came into my room. “What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be at the bar 7:30.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have anything to wear … oh, my God, what’s that?” She had a transparent garment bag protecting the most beautiful frilly chiffon dress I’d ever seen in my whole life. It was a pale pink with grey roses and delicate ruffles.

  “This is what I spent two month’s worth of a paycheck on,” she explained, twirling the hanger tantalizingly in front of me.

  As I watched her I knew that she was about to offer it to me and I couldn’t understand why. My eyes widened. “Are you letting me …”

  “It’s a Zimmerman dress,” she said, carefully pulling the zipper down. “I haven’t worn it yet, but you have absolutely nothing else to wear. Wait, that’s not true.” She revised her statement. “You have absolutely nothing to wear that would make you feel amazing, especially given the major hunk you’re going to meet.”

  “That’s the big issue,” I mumbled.

  “What?”

  “He’s a hunk, but he’s not someone I can be with ... long term.”

  She put a hand on her hip. “I thought you just wanted to get laid. Why are you overthinking this?”

  “That’s what I can’t figure out. If I’m so sold to there being anything deeper between us, then why am I on cloud nine about seeing him again?”

  “Because you like him,” she said and went to lay the mid-thigh dress across the bed. “And that’s okay. You’re not a robot. You have feelings. I mean, I started to love him after what he did last night. Just take this for what it will be, and when it’s time to part ways, then do that and be grateful that you were lucky enough to have someone that hot even temporarily. Have fun, be safe, and have a great story to tell your grandchildren.”

  “Well, how come you don’t follow your own advice? I don’t see you having fun with random guys.”

  She looked me in the eye. “I haven’t found that special man … yet. But trust me when I do, you will see me out there having the time of my life.”

  “But what about marriage before sex?”

  She waved her hand and winked at me. “I changed my mind last night. If I had a guy like Bone …” She let her voice trail away before continuing, “Now go out there and have fun, but don’t do a Monica Lewinski on my dress or you’ll owe me $750.”

  I found myself blushing.

  “And don’t bring him back to the house,” she continued relentlessly. “Go to a hotel or something and thoroughly let go there. Scream the place down if you have to.”

  I couldn’t speak. I just jumped to my feet and threw myself at her. “Thank you, Nichole. Thank you!” I whispered.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll figure it all out. Step by step. Now get ready and I’ll go see what the little munchkin is up to.”

  I got into the Zimmerman and I thought I looked okay in it as I came out of my room with my make-up done and my only good pair of shoes.

  Jess had her head bent over her coloring book, her concentration was such I had to call her to her attention. She lifted her head and looked at me. For a second, she simply stared at me without any recognition. Then her eyes widen
ed and she gasped with shock. “Oh, Mommy. You look like my Barbie,” she said.

  Now I knew I looked good, but not that good. It was the highest compliment Jess could ever give to anyone.

  Nichole shook her head. “Oh, my God. You look better in my dress than I do.”

  “No, I don’t,” I said quickly.

  “Yes, you do and I’m glad. Go knock his eyes out.”

  Della Ray

  I got myself out of the house thirty minutes later, and arrived at the fancy downtown restaurant. I was more than fifteen minutes early, but I had deliberately done that so I could have a drink on my own at the bar to settle my nerves. I took a seat, but even before I could place my order, I received a text message from him.

  I can’t make it.

  I instantly went numb. I reread it again. And again. Just as I rose to my feet to take my leave, another one came in.

  I’m sorry.

  I slipped the phone into my tiny purse and got in the first taxi I could find. I gave the driver my address and settled into the seat. I knew I had already received the blow, but the pain however, was yet to set in. I was in shock or in such an acute state of disappointment, I stared out of the window and saw nothing. I thought about Nichole and Jess, and the dress I was wearing, the make-up I had put on, the excitement I had felt in my belly all day long.

  I stared out the window as we drove past the rest of the world without seeing anything. My mind remained blank until Nichole’s words began to once again play in my head.

  Just take this for what it will be, and when it’s time to part ways, then do that and be grateful that you were lucky enough to have someone that hot even temporarily. Have fun, be safe, and have a great story to tell your grandchildren.

  My mind hooked on the last part of that last sentence.

  Have a great story to tell your grandchildren.

  The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Excuse me. I need to change the address,” I told the driver.

  I gave the new address and he changed the direction of the taxi. Less than ten minutes later, I was standing outside his apartment door. I knew he was at home because his Harley was parked outside, and I was about to knock when my hand stilled a few inches away from the wood. I decided to go another route. I sent him a text.

  Bone, I’m in trouble at the restaurant. Could you please come to me?

  I sent the text knowing that what I was doing was bonkers, but for me to go on to obtain the great story that I could tell my grandchildren I needed to be certain of something first.

  His call was instant, but I had anticipated that and put my phone on silent mode. I watched it light up three more times. All I wanted to do was see if he would come find me, or ignore the call.

  A few seconds later, his door flew open and he came rushing out. At first, he didn't see me waiting by the side, so I called out his name, the closest thing to his true name that I knew of so far, “Miller.”

  He froze and turned around. Confusion flashed across his face but at the look in my eyes, he came to a pretty decent conclusion about what was going on.

  I could see he didn’t like it one bit that I had tricked him. Without saying anything, I coolly strolled into the apartment and straight for his kitchen before he could throw me out. There was a bottle of water in the refrigerator so I opened that and downed a healthy portion of it. I knew he was standing right behind me, watching. My feelings were beginning to return. It was an unsettling mix between panic and endearment.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  I took my time in settling my breathing before turning to face him. “You said you couldn’t make it.”

  “That wasn’t a funny stunt,” he said.

  “I know,” I replied, “and I’m sorry, but what you did wasn’t funny either. Anyway, I needed to confirm something.”

  He remained silent and showed no curiosity as to what I needed to confirm, instead his eyes were hungrily roving over me in my short flirty dress. It was then that for the first time I noticed what he was wearing. He wasn’t in his usual black attire but had instead a pair of blue jeans on, a white crisp dress shirt tucked into it. His hair was nearly combed back and for the first time since I had met him there was no air of menace surrounding him. I realized why he was dressed this way. “You were going to come to the restaurant, weren’t you?”

  He continued to glare at me.

  I was unfazed. “Why did you change your mind when it’s obvious you care about me?”

  “I want nothing to do with you,” he said.

  That was so clearly a lie, it made me smile. “Then why were you rushing off to my aid. You could have just called the cops on my behalf.”

  He shrugged. “Anyone would have done that.”

  “Please, Bone. I just need to know why you changed your mind. And please tell me the truth. Otherwise, I’ll be inclined to think that you’re scared of me somehow. Why else would you lie?”

  He turned around to walk off, but I stepped in front of him. “In the future, if there’s something you’re not comfortable with, please reject me straightaway, rather than go along and make a fool of me. I was already at the restaurant bar when you sent your text. See I don’t need you to wine and dine me. We could have just fucked here in secrecy and ordered in some food. That is what you want, isn't it?”

  Something flashed in his eyes.

  Della Ray

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=foGkU6x3eSE

  -If I close my eyes forever-

  I stared at him. He was breathtaking, in ways that made me wonder how he could simply just exist amongst the rest of us. His face was perfectly handsome, his nose, a perfectly strong Roman thing, sat just above his soft full lips. I recalled what it was like to taste them, and I couldn't believe how long it had been since I had.

  And his hair ... right then it was all in place, but the memory of the dark mass, tousled and falling around the sides of his face as he'd fucked me mindless was a sight I wouldn't ever be able to forget.

  It was understandable why I was pushing my limits with him.

  Throwing all caution to the wind.

  For him, I would even throw away my pride and reservations because I was certain that he would be my once in a life time kind of experience.

  Slowly, I pulled down the zipper of Nichole’s very expensive dress and let it slide down my body. The floor looked pretty clean so I knew Nichole wouldn’t mind. I intended to dry clean it before giving it back to her, anyway.

  I shut off that irritating voice in my head and I took off my bra. I let my breasts spill out for his full perusal. I was quaking inside, but I hoped to God it did not show on the outside.

  I stood now before him in just the lacy peach thong that had matched Nichole’s dress.

  His eyes were eating me up alive.

  I couldn’t move one step further. “I really don’t want to do all the work myself here,” I said, my voice shivery with excitement.

  He gazed at me for the longest time, his eyes greedily savoring every single inch of my body. He looked like a man who hadn’t seen a nearly naked woman for years.

  I let him consume me. It felt good to have a man so completely mesmerized by me.

  Wordlessly, he began to walk towards me. From then on, I couldn’t breathe properly. I watched his big hands go to the buttons of his shirt and slip them out of their holes.

  It reminded me quite vividly, of when his fingers had been inside of me, and it made me ache with anticipation. He was as beautiful as a Greek God, and it seemed like an eternity since I had last kissed him. In that moment, I wanted nothing else than to have his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth.

  He shrugged the material off his shoulders to reveal a perfectly sculpted body. By the time he reached me, I was already holding onto the edge of the counter behind me. He hadn’t touched me yet, but I was already breathless. I knew when he did … I would combust. So I had to get some answers before he did.

  I wanted to break him open
, to figure out what was holding him back and keeping him so far away from me, and why the only thing he wanted to give was his body. I couldn’t take my mind off the fact that he had been dressed this way for me. I needed to know what had made him decide not to come to the restaurant. "You're always in black … Why did you want to look different today?”

  He didn't respond. Just kept a tortured predator’s gaze on me, as though he blamed me for something I could not understand.

  If it had been any other man, I would have said he was playing games or he wanted to keep me from expecting too much, but those mundane reasons were impossible to pin on him. The man approaching me wasn’t playing a game. The way his hot blue gaze roamed all over my face and body was as if I was the thing he had been looking for all his life. The roll of his muscles beneath that glistening olive skin made me swallow painfully.

  Hell, I wanted to taste every inch of him. "You're really fucking gorgeous,” I breathed.

  He flung the shirt aside and my hand went to my breasts. I couldn't stop myself from filling my hands with the mounds that were mine, but only ached and responded to him. I massaged them and my nipples became hard and inviting. I was hot, ready and brimming with anticipation.

  When he reached me, he buried his face in the nook of my neck and tasted me with the tip of his tongue. I shut my eyes. I was ready and willing to submit to all that he wanted to do to me. I shuddered at the softness of his lips. The heat of his breath traced my taut flesh all the way up my neck and towards the corner of my lips.

  I couldn't wait any longer. I turned to capture his lips with mine and felt his smile at my urgency. His taste was precious, as though too much of it would do more harm than good to me. Even so, I was unable to stop. I threw both of my arms around his neck, ground my breasts against his chest, and sucked lustily on his tongue.

  Like a blue-eyed demon, he matched my tempo, his hand tangled in my hair to keep my head in place as he ravished me, ruggedly drinking me in, as though he had been even more starved than I had thought. It turned me giddy with joy at the realization that in our desire for each other, we were equally and ferociously eager.