Burning With Desire

by Winters, Bella

  “You guys are too much,” I said. “I guess you’re all just trying to delay getting dominated out on the court by me.”

  “Dominated? More like we are tired of grandpa sitting, old timer,” Harold laughed.

  “I’m only six years older than you,” I said. “And yes, my girlfriend is younger than you.”

  “Wow, we are all impressed,” he said. “So, what’s your secret?”

  “There is no secret. We just happen to get along really well with each other.”

  “And she started out as his nanny,” Gary pointed out. That bastard loved to mess with me sometimes. But fine. I could take some good natured ribbing. No problem. I wasn’t some little delicate flower that was going to shrivel up and die if I didn’t get the proper treatment.

  The guys howled with laughter. “The nanny! Damn! That is hot!” “Way to go man!” “Respect.”

  I rolled my eyes. Sometimes I couldn’t believe that I actually worked with these animals.

  We played another round of basketball before I called it quits and headed home. I was tired. For some reason we had decided to get together to play ball at eight that morning, and I was already starting to get tired. I hadn’t slept well the past few nights and I wasn’t really sure why. I kept waking up at odd hours and then I had trouble getting back to sleep. It wasn’t like me. Usually I slept like a rock. Even Julie had noticed it. I was feeling stressed and I had no idea why. My life was going well for the first time in a few years and it had even been a relatively quiet time at work, but I had this sinking feeling deep down inside as if there was something that would take all of it away at any moment.

  I’d come to the conclusion that I was scared to death of anything bad happening to Julie, of reliving the past pain. What if I lost her? I’d lost the love of my life once and I wasn’t sure I would ever actually get over it. What if this sort of thing happened again? Maybe I was cursed, doomed to spend the rest of my life alone. I wasn’t supposed to be totally happy. Happiness to a firefighter could be a dangerous thing. If you had too much to live for, it could make you timid and hesitant which could get you or someone else killed very quickly. This world, this life of a fireman, was no joke.

  When I got home, Julie and Zoe were finger-painting in the kitchen. Zoe had paint on her apron and a bit on the sides of her sweet little face. Her eyes lit up with glee when she saw me come into the kitchen. She ran to hug me, being careful to not get paint on me, which I thought was pretty good for her. Normally, she never would have given a thought to how dirty she might actually make me. After hugging me, she went right back to her finger-painting. I laughed at how adorable she was.

  Julie hugged me and gave me a kiss, ignoring the fact that I was still pretty sweaty. “Did you have fun?” she asked me.

  “Yes,” I said. “It was fun, especially when the other guys started teasing me about dating a woman so much younger than me.”

  Julie looked shocked and slightly offended. “What did they say?”

  “Oh, just stupid guy stuff. Nothing bad. It’s their way of telling me that they actually think it’s awesome and when they are my age they hope they are cool enough to get a beautiful, younger woman who happens to be amazing at everything.”

  “Ok, now I’m worried that you guys did a bunch of drugs instead of basketball,” Julie joked.

  “That isn’t nice. You need to learn to accept compliments better, honey.”

  She playfully stuck out her tongue at me.

  I took a quick shower and changed my clothes while Julie got Zoe cleaned up so we could go get some ice cream and head to the park. I made sure to bring a few Frisbees along (Zoe’s favorite game in the world) and we headed off to the park. It was a warm, bright, sunny day and the park was packed with people. Luckily, it was early enough that we were still able to find a clearing and set ourselves up in a spot that was just shady enough for us to have some space alone. Julie and I played Frisbee with Zoe for a while. My daughter was a natural at the game. She could catch it behind her head, behind her back, and she was even trying to do trick throws such as overhand so that the Frisbee spun like a knife being thrown.

  It was all beautiful. I loved spending time with my daughter and it was even more special now that Julie was there with us. It really did feel like we were a family again. No one would ever replace Amanda as Zoe’s mother, and I could see that my daughter had finally accepted that. But Julie was there and she loved Zoe. My daughter had a great friend in her and I knew in time that this friendship would only grow and blossom into something even stronger and more special. That meant everything to me. Zoe and I were a package deal and anyone who came into our lives had to understand that. Julie knew that from the start and she instantly bonded with my little girl.

  As I watched the two of them playing together with the Frisbee, and the swings, and even having a monkey bar race, I knew that this was the most perfect thing I ever could have asked for and the timing had become absolutely ideal.

  When we got home that night and tucked Zoe into bed, Julie and I went back downstairs to watch some television and just relax for a bit. I was putting some beers in the fridge to get cold when I noticed the drawings on Julie’s sketch pad. I took a few moments to leaf through them and I was amazed at how beautiful the drawings were. She was uniquely gifted. It was spectacular work. This was a level of talent that never should have been denied from public view.

  Julie noticed me checking them out. “What do you think?”

  The pictures she’d been drawing lately were a wide variety. There were a few landscapes, some more urban settings, and even some pictures of nature. It was almost as if she was putting together a comic book. I could actually envision a story here.

  “It’s amazing,” I said. “The level of detail you have in your drawings… wow… I would love to see some of your paintings as well. I’d love to see any pieces of art that you want to show me. This is way better than anything I’ve seen in any galleries I can remember.”

  Julie blushed. “You really mean that? Are you sure you aren’t just being biased?”

  I smiled and put my arm around her. “Maybe I am being a little bit biased, but so what? It’s my prerogative. And no, I’m totally serious that this is some of the best work I’ve ever seen. Honey, you need to be putting this work out there as much as you can. You should be working around the clock to book showings, hit the internet, and build an audience. I can’t believe that art school ever rejected you.”

  Julie nodded. “You really think so? It’s been several years. Maybe I'll apply again there. I’m not sure I can handle that rejection again, though.”

  I shook my head. “Forget art school. They had their chance to recognize your talent. Do you really think you have to get that almighty degree?” I asked.

  “I’ve thought about it, and no there isn’t anything that says I have to get a degree. It’s more of a prestige thing, but if I want most places like advertising firms to hire me for graphic design, or if I want to teach, then I would need that. There are other avenues I’d need it for as well.”

  “But you are a creative artist. You do the art that you want to do. Why would you want to change that?”

  She thought for a moment and I could see the wheels turning in her mind. I’d given her a few things to think about. “I guess you are right.”

  I rubbed her shoulder gently. “Ultimately it is your decision, but I think you should do what is right in your heart. It won’t ever steer you in the wrong direction. As far as I can see, the world has opened up to allow real artists to broadcast their talents far and wide without any big institution behind them. With your talent, the world should be your oyster. I want that for you. You can do anything.”

  She smiled and leaned against me, resting her head on my chest. “I love the way you have so much confidence in me. I didn’t always get a lot of that growing up. My mother was too busy, and my father was just too stern to really pay much attention to me.”

  I could see something
in her eyes just then. A twinge of sadness. It was only a flash, but it was something. “What? What are you thinking?”

  She sighed and lowered her gaze. When she looked back up, there was pain. “I should have told you this sooner. I just didn’t think it mattered, and I didn’t want you to have pity on my folks when you met them. That only would have made my father that much angrier. He would have seen it a mile away.”

  “Ok,” I said. “What is it?”

  “There is a reason my father changed the way he did, the reason he had the affair, the reason he became so controlling and angry at the world. About a year before my parents split up, my mother miscarried. I was going to have a little brother or sister. My parents were both devastated, but my father took it especially hard. He’s always been a religious man and after that happened, he started hitting the bottle pretty hard and almost renounced his religion for a while. He couldn’t understand how God could do this to him. He became embittered and it just got worse. Even to this day, I think he is just broken and angry. It took away his ability to hold on and care for the people who are still in his life. He does care, but now it’s done from a position of fear and paranoia. He controls because he loves. He is afraid to let go of it because he could not control his unborn child and he saw what happened there.”

  Julie wiped a tear from her eye. I held her close to me. “Honey, I’m so sorry. Being a father, I can imagine that level of grief a parent might feel in that situation. I understand why your father acts the way he does, but I don’t excuse it. He is still operating of his own will.”

  “I know,” Julie said. “I just felt bad keeping it from you. I didn’t tell you earlier because it happened so long ago that I don’t even think about it much anymore. Does that make me a bad person? I’ve always felt sad about it, but I never felt that overwhelming feeling of tragedy. I was excited to have a new brother or sister, but I never knew them.”

  “I understand,” I said. “No. It doesn’t make you a bad person honey. You were a kid when this happened. Sometimes kids bury things deeply and those feelings never get fully expressed. Sometimes I think they just let go. I appreciate you sharing that with me.”

  I held her closely and kissed her on the forehead enjoying the warmth being shared between us. The silence was nice, both of us wrapped up in our own thoughts and reactions to the conversation that we’d just had. I loved quiet evenings with Julie. It was the only thing that often got me through a hard day sometimes, knowing I had my wonderful little girl and the love of this amazing woman to come home to. Julie had more or less moved in, unofficially of course.

  As we held each other, I wondered if Julie would apply to art school again. While they were idiotic to reject her immense talent before, it was probably a blessing in disguise. I didn’t see how you could teach someone to be an artist. You either had a creative vision and talent or you didn’t.

  And though it was a bit selfish on my part, I didn’t want to risk Julie being accepted to art school now and leaving me for months at a time. I wasn’t sure I could handle that. We’d just found each other and life was starting to turn around. I was happy, finally.

  And it terrified me to think that there was a chance I might lose that.

  Chapter Twenty

  Julie

  “Well, you are the toast of the evening,” Ricky whispered in my ear as I grabbed another glass of champagne from the bar. I turned to him slowly and smiled just in time to see his eyes scanning my figure in the dress I was wearing. The dress was sleek, black, and conformed perfectly to my shape. I felt sexy and I knew that I looked it.

  “What would make you say that?” I asked.

  “Because, everyone has been staring at you all night and every single conversation I’ve had this evening, you have been at the center of the group. I’ve hardly had to say two words. It’s been wonderful.”

  “I do aim to please,” I said.

  “And you do that just right,” Ricky whispered before kissing me softly.

  Ricky had talked me into going to his annual Firefighters banquet which he’d skipped going for the past few years. He casually mentioned it the other night at dinner and I picked up on the hint that he wanted to go. He tried to downplay it as me looking too much into things, but I could tell that it would mean a lot to him if I went. It sounded like fun.

  When we arrived, I was surprised to see how many great friends Ricky had in the department. Everyone was glad to see him. And of course they wanted to know more about me. I’ve never really been the life of the party, but it was easy with these men and women. They just invited us over to their tables and we all started hanging out during the cocktail hour.

  “Where have you been hiding this beauty?” Dustin Taylor, who I learned was one of the veterans, asked us the moment we walked in. He draped a big arm around Ricky and patted him twice. I blushed slightly at the mention of being called a beauty. It never gets old hearing sweet compliments. I could tell right away that Dustin was an old charmer. He was about fifty-five with mostly grey hair and a wide, cheeky grin that just said he was up to no good. His wife was by his side and she was obviously very comfortable with his flirty ways. I’d noticed a lot of older men seemed to have that quality. Was it because they knew there was no way in hell that they would ever stray from their marital bed? Or was it something else that went wrong in their head wiring?

  “Oh, I haven’t been hiding,” Ricky said. “She’s been keeping me all to herself. This is the first night she has let me out to play in a long time.”

  I loved it when Ricky got into his outgoing, joking mode. It didn’t happen that often. He could be very serious and reserved in social situations, but once you got him going he was the most interesting guy around. It wasn’t that he couldn’t turn on the charm at a whim, either. He absolutely could. But he chose to keep it under wraps most of the time. That was one of the things I liked most about Ricky. He had that quiet confidence where he didn’t care if other people liked him or not. Because of this, he didn’t feel the need to be on all the time.

  “There you go telling lies again,” I said hitting Ricky playfully on the arm.

  “Oh, she is a ballbuster!” Dustin shouted. The table erupted with laughter.

  The thing I noticed first about the banquet was how closely knit this group of men and women were. They had all been through a lot together, and they fought alongside each other against a terrible adversary every single day. They saved lives together. They were all heroes, every single one of them.

  Next, Ricky and I joined the table of Margaret Watson and her boyfriend Chip. They were all apparently seeing who could drink the most before the food even arrived. Occasionally, one person from their table would stand up and dance around to the music. At one point, Rob Bealson hopped up on his chair and pretended he was going to do a strip tease until he started to get a few disapproving looks from the chief.

  It was a great party and I was having even more fun than I thought I would. It was nice, and in some way it felt like this was solidifying our relationship to the public, to Ricky’s peers, and I was being brought into some kind of an initiation. This team was more like a family and it extended to their significant others as well. The emotional support that these brave warriors received from those closest to them in their lives was of the utmost importance. I was glad to now be included in that.

  After cocktail hour, we had an amazing dinner that consisted of three courses. We started off with clam chowder and a side salad, with some amazing dressing. I wasn’t sure if it was ginger or something else. But it was surprisingly one of the best side salads I’d ever tasted. I’m not typically a salad person, but I loved this.

  Next, we had baked chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and the most excellent dinner rolls smothered with savory butter. The food was excellent and it practically melted in your mouth. The music had changed from dance music to something more contemporary with a lower volume, and I found that having it playing while I ate and enjoyed great
conversation with some of Ricky’s coworkers was very relaxing.

  Lastly, we enjoyed some fantastic peach cobbler a la mode for dessert. And of course several glasses of wine were enjoyed by both myself and Ricky. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d had so much fun and I was reminded of one of the downsides of being an artist, or even being a nanny-- I never had any employee functions that I could attend. It was a lonely existence and one that I particularly enjoyed, but sometimes I thought about how nice it would be to be a part of a team at work and to create a bit of a social life that way. But for now, I would have to accept being in the extended part of Ricky’s little work family.

  Besides, I had him where it really mattered.

  After the dinner portion of the evening, they cranked the music back up and switched it to club music as the DJ kicked things into high gear. It was time for the dance party. By then most of us were too intoxicated to care that we were horrible dancers, including myself.

  I grabbed Ricky’s hand and dragged him towards the dance floor. “Come on. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

  Ricky shrugged and followed me out there. “You know that I’m the worst dancer ever, right?” Ricky asked.

  “So am I,” I replied. “It doesn’t matter.”

  I loved watching Ricky shake his ass to the music. Despite claiming to be an awful dancer, he was actually really good and had rhythm for days. Or maybe I was a bit biased because I was so damn in love with him. And he looked so good doing anything, especially shaking his hips to the music.

  The song was fast, but we danced together sensuously, our bodies grooving to the salsa inspired pop song. Ricky’s hands slid across my body moving up and down my back gracefully. I was getting so turned on by this. I barely noticed the other couples watching us work our magic on that dance floor. Many of Ricky’s coworkers were watching us dance from the confines of their cozy chairs either too drunk, or just too nervous to bother to compete with us. We were surprisingly good together. This was the first time we had ever fast danced with each other. Our instincts were very in synch, each of us feeding off the other as we moved our bodies sensuously to the music. I wasn’t sure if what we were doing was altogether professional (this was a company party after all), but it felt good in the moment and from what I could see no one was complaining.