by Laurie Ames
“What will you do?”
“Walk the corner of Laine Street at night.”
The two young women laughed and gave each other a passionate hug. Sophia felt privileged to have eased Alex’s pain, even for an instant.
“There are things I can do. I’ll look for a job online.”
“Okay. Well, it’s a long story. I’ll get you another cup of coffee.”
Chapter Four
________
Engrossed in conversation, Sophia and Alex had not noticed the scrawny young man watching them. He stood outside the store window, captivated by the lovely women. He had seen some striking women on his travels but these two fascinated him. There was something about the way they looked at each other, trust embedded in their eyes. It had been awhile since he had witnessed two human beings who showed any amount of confidence in one another. He would have to hang around and keep an eye on these two. He wondered how long they had known each other. One was petite and dark, her auburn hair pulled into a ponytail to reveal an oval, pretty face. Her green eyes sympathized with her friend, who was animatedly telling or retelling what seemed like a horrible tale. The green-eyed lady had been on the train with him. The other lady, moderately curvy and blatantly feminine, gesticulated potently. He liked her plum-colored nail polish. He might borrow it sometime.
The scrawny young man carried on down the street. He walked slowly, taking in his surroundings. He stole glances at the men in the barber shop. Some reclined in the big leather chairs, grinning at jokes that had been thrown casually around the room. Others sat blissfully with their eyes shut as the barbers massaged their scalps under a stream of running water. One barber jerked his arms in clumsy motions and slid across the room in what appeared to be a dance, while Nat King Cole crooned from somewhere in the middle of the room. The scrawny young man stood entranced as he observed the scene through the shop window. Everyone seemed at home and perfectly content in this cozy small town of Bryony. He walked on.
It was dusk. The working girls on Laine Street had promptly shown up for work but none of them said a word to him. They studied his unfamiliar face suspiciously, wondering why he had landed in this particular corner of the world. As he passed an attractive redhead, she pulled her coat tight around herself and turned away. He scoffed at her as if he was beneath soliciting her services and kept walking.
The playground was turning dim under the glow of sunset. The children had scattered, heading for warm dinners and safe beds. As he approached the swings, he smiled as though he was returning to his kingdom after conquering vast armies in distant lands. The grass whispered under his sneakers and a sense of tranquility prevailed. He lowered himself into the seat of a swing. His feet rotated from tiptoe to heel and back as he rocked himself gently to and fro. The harmony between his movements and his thoughts would have persisted if it hadn’t been for two familiar women moving swiftly in his direction. He leapt up as unassumingly as he could manage, then shuffled into the shadows.
“Let’s hurry. It’s getting dark,” Sophia urged.
“That’s the whole point. We don’t want anyone to see us, do we?”
Alex led the way to a building behind the playground. The doors were locked, the interior silent. The front of the building appeared to be well-taken care of. But the grass growing unchecked at the back concealed a gaping basement window. Alex headed for the window, knelt down next to it, and parted the grass with her fingers.
“This is where I need you. You have to climb into this room and retrieve something for me,” she said to Sophia.
“What is this place? Why can’t you do it yourself?” Sophia asked.
Alex waved her friend closer. Sophia knelt beside Alex and instantly saw what the problem was. A large block of wood, possibly a bookshelf, had been shoved very close to the window, leaving a limited amount of space between the shelf and the window. Only a petite person could squeeze their way through the window and into the room. Alex’s tall, voluptuous frame would have been stuck and wedged awkwardly in the opening of the window if she had tried it herself.
“That’s why you wanted to know my height?”
“You seem disappointed,” Alex replied.
“I thought it would be a more interesting reason than being able to wiggle my way into a basement.”
Alex rolled her eyes, “It’s a very important basement.”
“Isn’t there another way? Why can’t you knock on the front door? Or ask a kid to do it,” Sophia suggested.
“They would never let me in. They’re suspicious of me. And I don’t want them to know that I need something from here. They’ll start wondering what it is. I’d rather not explain.”
“And the kid?”
“Kids can’t be trusted to lie when they’re required to. No one must know I’ve been near here.”
Sophia took the lighter from Alex, flicked the switch, and shined the light through the window, where it caught the brown wall created by the bookshelf. The dim glow of the lighter hit the edge of the bookshelf, revealing a space between it and one of the four walls of the room. When she directed the light toward the floor immediately below the window, she noticed the moisture that had collected there on account of the rain.
“Why couldn’t we come here when it was raining, by the way?”
“It would have been really muddy. Plus, water usually flows in through the window when it rains hard enough. Your shoes would have been ruined when you hit the floor,” Alex replied. She made a face as she said it, as if that was the worst thing that could have happened. Sophia stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. She stuck the lighter in her mouth and began to clamber through the window. Just as she was wriggling through the opening, they heard the rustling of grass somewhere behind them.
“Stop! Get out!” Alex whispered frantically.
Sophia quickly dragged herself back to her knees and the two froze as they listened for the noise.
Nothing.
They looked at each other as if to say, “Did we really hear that?”
Just then, the swishing of grass happened again and this time they followed the sound. As they walked toward it, they heard more swishing, rapid movements. They quickened their pace until they were outright chasing the noise. Soon, they were in the middle of the playground again. They could see no one and couldn’t even guess which direction would be best to resume the pursuit.
The scrawny young man gulped one breath of air after another as he hid behind a tree. He watched as the two women gave up their search and headed home.
“It could have been anyone, Alex. There’s no point in trying to figure it out.”
“Of course there is! Whoever it is, they’re onto me. What am I supposed to do? Just sit and wait for all hell to break loose?”
“Okay. Make your list. While you’re at it, don’t forget the Marlboro man, one of his five kids and maybe a stray cat or two. Because it could have been anything.”
***
Alex stood at the kitchen sink, seemingly examining a stain on a glass plate. Sophia watched her, concerned. Alex had hardly eaten a thing all week. Her main activities had included obsessing over the rustling in the grass, a tremendous amount of nail-biting, and staring blankly at inanimate objects. Her body leaned against the kitchen sink; bare feet squeezed firmly together on the tiled floor. Her shoulders told of the tension that had governed her for months.
“Why are you clutching your neck like that?”
“It’s just so sore lately. It will pass.” She tilted her head back and forwards again.
“Sit down,” Sophia commanded. “I’ve got something for all that neck tension.”
When Alex didn’t move, Sophia pulled up a chair and guided her friend toward it. Alex lowered herself into the chair with a sigh, then felt two groups of resolute fingers kneading the flesh of her shoulders into submission.
“Oh Sophia, that feels so wonderful. Where did you ever learn to do that? Keep going, oh, oh, Oh!”
Sophia e
njoyed giving therapy, any reason to touch and be closer to Alex. Now, something was finally happening—the Lord had heard her prayers. She was becoming aroused and was sure Alex was feeling the same way. She continued her massage and suddenly had a vision in her mind of a pair of firm creamy white breasts, their deep brown nipples hard and thick. She fantasied stroking her hair and working her fingers down along her neck and back, then reaching around to cup those sumptuous breasts. She dreamed about touching her more, kissing her mouth, her nipples, her stomach. She continued thinking of Alex, imagining what it would be like to stroke that fine backside, then put her hands between her legs and explore.
Alex closed her eyes to savor this much-needed therapy. She suddenly wished she could have had this way before, instead of constantly having to deal with everything herself. She thought of the comfort that Sophia had provided her over the few days she had been in town, the relief of being able to share the burden with someone else.
“So, you’ll be here for a while?” Alex probed.
“That’s the third time you’ve asked me that,” Sophia taunted.
“I’m hoping I’m not ruining whatever time you have here. This will all be over soon, I promise. And then I won’t bother you again.”
Sophia’s mind snapped back into the present. She had misinterpreted Alex's reaction, her words, her expression and in that moment her heart broke. But for now, she had to banish those thoughts to the far recess of her mind. Right now, kneading her shoulders would have to do. She continued to massage, almost losing herself in the sensuality of it all. She soon ended the massage and sat down opposite Alex.
“Alex, how do you know that you can trust me?”
Alex looked back at her friend, perplexed.
“Of course, I can trust you. You’re new here. You have nothing to do with anyone around here. I know I can trust you simply because you’re a stranger. If you were my long-lost sister, I wouldn’t have trusted you at all. Anyway, it’s the people we think we know that always stab us in the back.”
Alex ended this statement abruptly, as if she had said too much already.
“So … What if I’m your long-lost cousin?” Sophia quipped.
The clenching in Alex’s jaw did all the talking.
“Relax. I’m just kidding!” Sophia laughed.
“Sophia, really. This is not the time.”
“This is precisely the time. If you don’t find time to laugh about this, you’ll drive yourself crazy.”
“What do I need to laugh about it for? I have you for that. I get to listen to you laugh while I do the worrying. That’s the way it should be. This is my problem. If it can entertain you in any way, then I’m happy.”
“Alex …”
“I’ve gotten you involved in something awful. I’m so sorry …”
“Okay. Seriously, stop.”
Sophia was on her feet again, clutching Alex’s head and shoulders in an almost passionate but sympathetic embrace.
“Don’t you think you’re overestimating this man? He’s just a human being.”
“He’s more than that around here.”
“Well, ‘here’ is just a small town in a little-known city. ‘Here’ isn’t such a big deal, is it? It’s a tiny corner of the world that doesn’t mean much in the scheme of things. And ‘he’ is definitely not God.”
Alex looked up at Sophia, suddenly aware of what an outsider she was. Again, she wondered what had brought this young, knowledgeable woman to such an inconsequential place.
“Everything will work out. You’ll see,” Sophia would say.
They had spent a lot of time together during the next two weeks. They talked extensively about Alex’s predicament. They had played Uno and eaten ice-cream to ward off the summer heat. Sophia enjoyed teaching Alex how to swim. Alex helped Sophia with her computer skills and showed her the best sites on the Internet. It was the giggles, the laughter, the smiles that set the sails of their friendship. Some people become friends for a reason, some for a season and some for life. They were for life. They saw humor in everything and that was their special bond. But Sophia never revealed her past. And Alex thought it best not to ask.
For Sophia, Alex was indeed the perfect friend, or rather, the perfect friend she wanted to be. But maybe Sophia only saw what she wanted to see, imagining something that wasn’t there. Why would her friend never show the protective element of love? She valued their friendship but yearned for more; she was in love with Alex. She lusted for her. But Alex would not respond in that way. It was sexually frustrating to desire someone and not be desired in return.
***
For Sophia, this meant another dreary night, alone in her room, fantasizing about Alex. Tonight, was no different as she stood silent before the mirror.
‘Oh Alex, what spell have you cast over me?’ She asked herself in the mirror. ‘Whenever I see you, you’re all I think about the entire day.’
The reflection that gazed back at her was bare of clothes. Her eyes swept over her nakedness trying to imagine what Alex did not see. Her thick, auburn colored hair cascaded over her shoulders, falling in wild abandon down her back as the filtered moonlight wafted through the blinds.
“Why does she not desire me?” Her mind raced as she became aroused.
Her arms began to move, gliding over the flesh of her waist to her breasts, hands cupping them like Alex might, gently, lovingly and teasingly. Her thumbs slid over her nipples, bringing them to hardened peaks, the silence of the room broken by the sharp intake of her breath at the sensation. Her left hand moved between her breasts, the back of her fingers caressing over her stomach, moving to her waist and hips. Turning her hand with palm pressed against her, tapered fingers moved through the fine hairs that covered her womanhood, holding herself there briefly. She moved her index finger, gliding it over the little nub of pleasure that caused her to breathe heavy and lose control when touched. It felt good to imagine Alex doing this to her, craving her and desiring her.
Her head tilted to one side, her eyes moving to watch the motions of her finger while her legs moved apart. Her hips began thrusting in a circular motion, breath hissing between her teeth as it escaped her lips. There was a flush of heat there, spreading throughout the rest of her body. She touched herself, slipping a finger inside, feeling her own warmth and wetness. Her pink lips were parting, as if preparing for Alex's darting tongue.
Her fingers spread herself open wider while her thumb moved back and forth over the pearled nub that burned, while a finger slid slowly in and out. Her other hand moved to the other breast, fingers circling around the nipple, playing, teasing as another flash of heat consumed her. Her eyes moved to catch herself in the mirror … enjoying the fiery depths of passion there, a desire that she'd brought on herself.
"Oh Alex, I need you so badly. I wish you were here to fuck me,” she whispered into the silence of the room. Just saying that made her warm pearled nub begin to throb and burn even more. As her fingers slipped in and out, her head rolled back on her shoulders, the long thick tendrils of burnt auburn hair tickling her backside.
"Oh... my..." Her hips moved forward, thrusting into her hand … gliding gently to a circular motion, the sensation sweeping her up and carrying her away. Faster her fingers moved, fingers squeezing her nipple, "Oh god," her low voice yelled into the room, her chest rising and falling as her breathing became erratic. The seed of passion had taken deep inside her, ready to implode within. Her hips continued thrusting, fingers moving within her and throbbing deep inside.
"Ahh..." she moaned, feeling herself become wetter with her motions. The frenzied motion consumed her, guiding her closer to the edge, wanting the sensation to overcome and take her away.
Whimpering, the tidal wave finally came crashing down around her. "Oh ... Yes,” she screamed, before eventually coming to a complete stop.
She lowered her arms and once again caught her gaze in the mirror, the reflection seemingly more at ease, relaxed and content for now…
Chapter Five
________
At the tender age of barely eighteen, Alexia had married John Stanfield in the local chapel on a sunny June morning. John, son of the local business tycoon, was twenty-eight years old at the time and sorely in need of a good wife. His youth had been riddled with failed business ventures and indiscretions with the ladies on Laine Street. He was fast approaching thirty, that age when one first takes account of his life. Of course, it wasn’t John who was doing the evaluating. It was John’s father, a practical man who knew his heir’s every move. The chain-smoking patriarch held an impressive record when it came to organizing his children’s lives. He had managed to marry off his two daughters to illustrious men, the responsible sons of his business partners. The two sheep-like women had not protested, but dutifully went along with their father’s wishes. They were only too happy to play their part as stalwart members of the Stanfield family. It was the most important member of their generation who had, rather inconveniently, decided to blaze his own trail. He didn’t seem to have gotten the memo that Bryony was still steeped in the traditions of the Victorian era. His father had no intention of giving all his hard-earned wealth away or being “‘happy” with whatever his children chose to do with their lives. John Stanfield Sr. did not care that his children were individual human beings, separate from himself. He had them for his own reasons. Their destiny was to fulfill their father-given purposes in life. Hope and Marie had done well in this arena, but John Jr. frequently tested his father’s patience. He would need to be straightened out or “let go,” especially now that the presence of a strong successor was of paramount importance.
