by AC Netzel
“I don’t think we’ll sleep.” His eyes are closed shut, but he’s grinning.
I laugh. “No, probably not. Sleep now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He opens his eyes and gazes at me with an emotion I haven’t seen from him before. I’m not quite sure what it is. “You are so beautiful Julia. You’re the most beautiful girl I have ever met.”
“Good night, Ben.” I press my lips to his forehead and leave him to sleep it off.
I walk down the hall to my old bedroom. I change into last year’s Christmas flannel pajamas, brush my teeth, and lay in my old bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tonight was fun…not that I expected it to be anything other than a good time, but having Ben here made it feel, I don’t know…. better?
I close my eyes and try to shut off my mind for a little while to get some sleep.
Chapter 13
There must be something ingrained in us when we are children that no matter how late you fall asleep the night before, Christmas Day you’re going to wake up early. Too early.
I sit up in bed and peek at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It’s seven a.m. Stupid clock. I drag myself out of bed and look out the window. Snow! And it’s my favorite kind of snow too, the kind that sticks on everything but the streets or sidewalks. It’s picturesque, and no shoveling required. Perfect! I walk over to my brothers’ bedroom to find Ben. The bed is empty and already made. He’s awake?
I walk into the kitchen and find my mom, dad, and Ben, each with a cup of coffee, shooting the breeze like old friends. They look so comfortable around each other.
“There’s our sleepyhead,” my mother announces.
Sleepyhead? It’s seven in the morning and a freaking holiday. My body clock tells me I should be asleep for another three hours.
“Good morning.” I look toward Ben. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” he says.
Yeah, like a drunk baby.
“Glad to hear it.” I stretch and let out a huge yawn.
“Coffee?” my mom asks.
“Yes. I’ll get it.” I walk over to the coffeemaker on the kitchen counter. As I’m pouring the coffee in my mug, I eavesdrop on Ben and my parents chatting. I don’t know how the hell he does it. He has them eating out of the palm of his hand. Seems his magical powers work on more than just lusting young females and my friends…he also attracts the middle aged. I walk over to the table and plop myself down on a chair, grabbing a bagel from the plate in front of me.
“Julia, your parents tell me the church services are at ten-thirty and noon. I was hoping we could make it to the earlier mass, so we can hit the road and get to my sister’s house at a decent time.”
“You want to come to church with me?” I frown.
“Of course. Ten thirty?”
“Sure,” I say, as I pop a piece of bagel in my mouth. He never ceases to surprise me.
Ben in my childhood church…this should be interesting.
~o0o~
Sitting on the church pew while some of the bitchy mean girls I went to middle school with drool over Ben has proven to be quite satisfying. They’re sitting with their husbands, boyfriends, whoever the hell they are. They all look miserable.
Yeah, that’s right bitches; this gift from God himself is mine. So what if he’s not really my “boyfriend”. I am screwing his brains out; they don’t need to know the details.
I’m glad I wore my emerald dress. It hugs me in all the right places and brings out the green in my eyes. I look pretty good, if I don’t say so myself. I even averted a near stocking catastrophe when I put my big toe through my black thigh highs. Luckily some clear nail polish stopped the hole from running up my foot and it’s covered nicely by my shoe. And as luck would have it, I’m also having a great hair day. Kismet.
That’s right popular girls, I look damn fine, I have a great job, my man is a sex god, and yours is not.
Hallelujah! I forgot how fulfilling church can be.
I glance at Ben sitting next to me. He’s so damn handsome. I know he’s had hardly any sleep, but he looks like he just stepped out of the pages of GQ, in his charcoal gray suit and white button down shirt opened at the collar. His hair is tousled from the windy walk to church. He’s sin in a suit.
Just looking at his mouth is making me weak. I’m tempted to trace it with my finger, lightly brushing my fingertips across his soft lips. I miss his touch. Oh, the sinful things I want to do to this man. Sex on a church pew would send me straight to hell for sure. He catches me peeking at him and smiles warmly, then redirects his attention back to his hymn book.
I know I shouldn’t think this way while I’m in church... but look at him. I’ll go to confession next time I’m in town. I think God will forgive me.
~o0o~
Once church service concludes, I hook my arm around Ben’s as we leave, making sure the mean girls who gave me and Allie grief in middle school witness it. Stupid bitches.
“You don’t like those girls, do you?” he asks. I guess he noticed the daggers shooting out of my eyes.
“No, not really. They were the popular girls at school. They were real bitches.”
“You weren’t popular?”
“Hardly,” I snort.
“What were you like when you were younger?”
“I don’t know. Just an ordinary girl.”
“Julia, there is nothing ordinary about you. You are amazing.” He holds my hand up to his mouth and presses a sweet kiss on the back of it.
“Come with me, I want to show you something,” I say, resting my head against his shoulder.
We walk arm in arm down the street toward the ocean. My town is so small; everything is in walking distance: church, the bakery, the library, schools and the ocean. Somehow having Ben next to me warms me up enough to forget how cold I am. We walk past my house until we reach the entrance to the beach.
“It’s a little cold for a swim,” he jokes.
“Just come with me.” I tighten my arm around his and tug at him to follow.
We walk up the wooden planked walkway that leads to the beach. Once we reach the end of the walkway, we stop. The salty scent of the sea washes over us. There’s a delicate beauty to the tall dried grasses peeking out of the snow covered dunes and the few remaining birds walking along the shoreline.
I close my eyes as I inhale the cold sea air. This is my heaven. I listen to the thunderous sound of the ocean waves breaking against the shore. It’s nature’s symphony. I open my eyes and watch the ocean powerfully moving in an endless rhythm, rolling in one after another. Growing up, I’d come to watch the waves crash in the winter as an escape from reality, a place for solitude and thought. It’s the only time I didn’t care about the freezing temperature. This is my serenity.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” I ask.
“Breathtaking,” he breathes. I turn my head to look at him and he’s gazing at me. He tucks a few errant strands of my hair behind my ear, then leans in, brushing his lips lightly against mine and kisses me… slowly, softly, deeply. We’ve kissed before, but never like this. This was different. This was… in the depths of your soul intimate, like we’ve poured a part of ourselves into each other. My stomach is in knots. For a moment, I forget how to breathe. I actually feel a little …uncomfortable. I want to melt into him, never letting go, yet run as far away as I can at the same time. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react to that kiss, or if I should react at all.
I look up at him. “We better get back to my parents. It’s almost time to leave for your sister’s house.”
He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Yes. We should get going.”
We walk quietly back to my parent’s house. Too quietly. There’s a sudden awkwardness between us. Maybe he felt something in that kiss too.
~o0o~
I’m packing up my overnight bag when there’s a light knock on my door.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course, Mom. It’s your house.”
&nb
sp; “Do you have everything you need? Do you want me to pack up some leftovers?”
“Thanks Mom. I’m good,” I answer as I stuff my new flannels in my overnight bag.
“Ben seems nice.” She’s acting blasé, but I know better. This is a fishing expedition to see how much I’m willing to reveal.
“He is,” I answer warily.
“Do you see a lot of each other?”
“Enough.”
“Seems to me he plans on staying around for a while.”
That got my attention. I stop packing and look at her. “Why would you think that?” I ask.
“Mets tickets,” she says with a knowing smile.
“What about Mets tickets?”
“Julia, he gave your parents baseball tickets. Opening day is not until April. That’s four months away. You don’t give a girl’s parents tickets to a ballgame that you have to personally make the arrangements for unless you plan on sticking around.”
“Mom, we don’t have that kind of relationship. We’re friends.”
“Mmmhmm,” she hums, staring at me skeptically.
“You’re imagining things, Mommy.” I say sarcastically.
“Perhaps neither of you realizes it, but there’s much more going on than either of you care to admit. Open your eyes. I see the way you look at each other when you think the other isn’t looking. There’s something special between the two of you, whether you are aware of it or not.”
“Now I know where I get my overactive imagination. Don’t wait to hear wedding bells. It’s not in the cards for us. Just friends. That’s all we are. That’s all we’ll ever be.”
“That’s what you show on the surface, but anyone who’s paying attention can see there’s more underneath,” she sighs, reaching her hand to my face and tucking a few stray strands of hair behind my ear, like she used to do when I was a little girl. “Your hair always did have a mind of its own,” she chuckles softly. “JuJu, I know your last relationship didn’t end well, you were hurt and now you’re scared. Don’t close yourself off because of one bad apple. I know you’re afraid to put yourself back out there, but if you can put aside your fear, you may find that just maybe your future is sitting at the kitchen table, chatting away with your dad right now. You’re a wonderful girl with so much love to give. You deserve to be loved. I just want you happy.”
“I know you do.” I hug her tight. “Look Mom, Ben is waiting for me. Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome, baby. Open mind, open heart. Remember that.”
“I will.”
~o0o~
Chapter 14
The drive to Ben’s sister’s house is long, way too long. Holiday traffic on the Garden State Parkway is painfully slow.
“How far away is Greenwich, Connecticut?” I ask.
“About two and a half hours from your parents’ house on a good day. We’ve only been in the car for a half hour. You better get comfortable. Take a nap if you’re tired. You went to bed late last night.”
Yeah, like he’d remember.
“It’s okay. I’ll keep you company while you’re driving.” I turn on the radio, once again searching for the perfect Christmas song.
“Haven’t you had your fill of Christmas music?”
“It’s impossible to get too much Christmas music. In fact, one day every summer, Allie and I celebrate Christmas in July.”
“Why does this not surprise me?”
“Because it’s something awesome, like me and Allie,” I proclaim with a big cheesy grin.
He laughs, shaking his head. “The two of you are something, all right.”
“So, did you have a good time last night with my family?” I ask, a little fearful of what his answer might be.
He hesitates for a moment; a bewildered expression briefly crossing his face. “I did.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am, a little.”
“Why?”
“The mayhem, meeting your family, the kids, the noise. But it was good. A little intimidating, but fun.”
“My parents liked you.”
“Did they?” He quickly glances at me, looking almost hopeful.
“You did give them baseball tickets.”
“A small price to pay for their approval. Thank you for inviting me.” He takes my hand and sweetly kisses the back of it.
He wants my parent’s approval. Why?
“So what are we walking into today? Tell me more about your family,” I ask.
“They’re quieter than yours.”
“Ben, every family is quieter than my family.” Rock concerts are quieter than my family.
“They’re more traditional,” he states.
Traditional? That’s code for dull.
“Tell me about them.”
“My father worked a lot at his brokerage firm when I was growing up. Still does. But he takes off two weeks every year and flies the family out to our villa in Tuscany to unwind.”
“Your family owns a villa in Italy?”
“Yes. It’s an investment property, actually. It’s nice. The hills are filled with olive trees and there’s a small vineyard.” His family owns a freaking house in Tuscany? Of course they do.
“My mother stayed home to raise Elizabeth and me, though it was our nanny, Ruby, who did most of the raising. My mother was always wrapped up in her charity work, ladies’ functions and what-not.”
“That must have been hard for a kid to understand. What about your sister?”
He lights up at the mention of her. She must be someone very special. “Elizabeth is great. She’s the funny one. You’ll love her. We were inseparable when we were kids. She’s been married for six years to Stuart. He owns a chain of floral shops. It’s proven to be a very successful venture. No kids yet, but they’re very attached to their two dogs.”
“I look forward to meeting them.” I stretch and let out a huge unladylike yawn.
“Julia, we have at least two hours, probably more with the traffic. Why don’t you take a nap?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, sleep. I want you to have some energy for later. I’ve been with you for two days now. I want you in my bed tonight.”
“I would like that.”
“I’ll make sure you do.” He reaches his hand over the console between us and squeezes my leg, slowly inching his hand up the inside of my thigh, his fingers gently skimming over the lace top of my thigh highs. I feel that familiar tingle throughout my body. I miss his touch.
“Ben, you are a very naughty boy. Santa will leave you coal in your stocking if you keep this up,” I warn, shifting in my seat.
“I’m willing to take that chance.”
“Focus on the road now, you can focus on me later.” I grab his hand to stop his playful assault.
“Julia, I’m going to focus the hell out of you later.” He places his hand back on the steering wheel.
“I look forward to it.” I recline my seat and close my eyes.
~o0o~
“Hey, we’re here sleepyhead. Wake up.” Ben gently nudges me.
“I’m up, I’m up.” I instinctively wipe the corners of my mouth with the back of my hand, making sure I didn’t drool in my sleep. I spring my seat up from the reclining position and look in awe at the property in front of us. This is not a house. My parents live in a house…this is a mansion. It’s stunning…and tremendous. Why would two people need to live in a place so large?
The front of the house is a beautiful gray fieldstone with a white pillar porch front. The grounds are like a park; I bet it’s breathtaking here in the summer when the flowers are in bloom. The outside of the house is decorated for Christmas beautifully. These people have money. Serious money. Thick green pine garland and slow twinkling white lights surround the doorway. There’s a huge pine wreath on the door with silver and purple balls. A tall lantern is sitting on either side of each step leading up to the front door. The bushes and trees in the front are adorned in white l
ights.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We walk up to the front door. Ben is holding a bag with gifts for his family with one hand as he rings the doorbell with the other.
“Do I look okay?” I ask warily.
“Julia, you look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”
I smile shyly. I know he told me I’m beautiful last night while he was feeling the effects of the booze and late hour, and he’s told me as a prelude to sex often enough. But it means more coming from him sober and not as an element of foreplay.
He really thinks I’m beautiful.
The front door opens. We’re greeted by a stocky, balding man. I’d guess he’s in his late thirties. He’s wearing a lavender button down shirt with a dark purple crushed velvet bow tie and plaid pants. He looks like a mix between a golfer and an eggplant. Interesting fashion sense.
“Ben, you made it. We were about to call out the cavalry to look for you.”
“Sorry Stuart, traffic was a nightmare.” We walk into the foyer. Wow, what a place.
“And who is this lovely creature?” Stuart asks, eyeing me up and down.
“Stuart, this is my friend Julia. Julia, Stuart.”
“Nice to meet you Stuart.” I extend my hand to shake his.
“Julia, aren’t you just adorable. Come in.” He heartily shakes my hand. “Everyone is waiting. Shoes over there.” He points to a small mat on the side of the door.
Ben walks over to the side of the front door and kicks off his shoes. “They have a no shoes policy here. Don’t want to mark up their wood floors.”
Seriously? Even for guests? I’m about to kick off my heels when I remember the hole I have in the left toe of my black stockings. Shit. I thought I was in the clear when my shoe covered it. The first and probably only time I’ll meet Ben’s family and I’m going to have my big toe sticking out like a sore thumb. Shit.
I walk over to the mat, like a criminal facing the firing squad and kick off my shoes. My big toe is proudly sticking out. This is mortifying. Mortifying. All I need is a spotlight directed on my toe to highlight my embarrassment.
Ben glances down at my feet, clearly amused at my toe predicament. “Nice look,” he taunts with a smirk I’d love to wipe off his face.
