Restore Me

by J. L. Mac

  He opens the package and takes his time choosing a plump, dark red strawberry. He holds it up to me like it’s the prize of a lifetime. “Lean back,” he whispers.

  I comply immediately and lean back on the countertop. He hikes my dress up around my waist so that I am completely exposed to him. With one more glance at me, he licks his lips deliciously then lifts my legs, leaning over and placing the palm of his free hand down on the counter on one side of me, the crooks of my knees now on top of his shoulders.

  My stomach flutters. My center tingles and yearns to feel his mouth on me. The strawberry in his hand disappears between my thighs. Cool air hits my throbbing clit as Damon blows his breath on me. The tip of the cold strawberry startles me. I gasp when I feel it dip into my slick pussy. Damon slowly draws the strawberry up my center to my neglected clit. My heart pounds in my chest. He brings the strawberry to his lips and takes a bite. He holds it out to me.

  “Taste,” he demands.

  I pop open my mouth and let him feed the strawberry to me. I bite down on the fruit. Damon watches me closely as I savor what he’s given me.

  “See why you’re my favorite flavor?” he whispers.

  I’m frozen, in awe of him. Fuck, that was hot. Before I know it, his mouth has landed on my wet, pulsing center. His masterful lips seal around my clit, creating a glorious suction, while his tongue flicks back and forth over my most vulnerable spot. I toss my head back and moan. He hums his appreciation and it sends a vibrating sensation reverberating through my core. My breathing is sporadic. My heart drums hard in my chest. His tongue plunges into my channel and he begins making slow strokes against the walls of my pussy.

  “Ah!” I cry out. My hips rise of their own volition in time with his tongue. My toes curl and stiffen so hard that cramps instantly form in the arches of my feet. His tongue glides back to my clit. I feel two of his fingers skirt the rim of my opening then push deep into me, making circular movements within me. His mouth seals over my clit again, but this time his tongue flutters so fast over my clit that I can barely breathe. A decadent orgasm blooms low in my stomach. With one more curl of his fingers, I blow apart. His ministrations slow and soften while I ride out my climax. I’m barely allowed a moment to breathe before he has tossed me over his shoulder again.

  “Come on, woman. I’m having the main course in bed.”

  A wicked smile plays across my face as I watch his feet climb the stairs. I have no complaints. We may need to have dinner in bed every night.

  “Miss America.”

  I hear Captain calling my name just like before. It’s dark all around me and though this feels familiar, I can’t help but look for the light beside the bed. My hands feel around on the cool surface of the nightstand but I can’t find the lamp.

  “Don’t get your panties in a knot. It’s just me.”

  I freeze and listen to his gruff voice. It’s a comfort. It makes me realize just how long it’s been since I’ve heard his voice. My chest feels heavy and achy with melancholy. Somewhere in my conscious mind I realize this must be a dream, just like the other one. I’m safe, I know Damon is beside me in bed, but I still find myself nervously whispering.

  “I miss hearing your voice, Captain.”

  “I know you do. Jo, do you remember when you found that book on the shelf with the wrong cover?”

  I think back on our seven years together and smile, summoning the memory. Remembering my times with Captain is bittersweet. I would never give up these memories of him but recalling them seems to be a lot like opening a wound.

  “Yeah, I do. It was a fiction book with some sort of self help book cover. It was so weird, huh? You wouldn’t believe me until I went and got it to show you.”

  “You can’t blame me for wanting to see it with my own eyes. I couldn’t take your word for everything, sweetheart.”

  “Paper Mache,” I remember aloud. “It was a blood and guts thriller on the inside with a How to Paper Mache dust jacket.”

  “That’s right. Paper Mache. The flour and water French mess that kids slap over balloons to make models of planets and crap.”

  “That book thing gave new meaning to ‘judging a book by its cover,’ huh?” I muse.

  “Yeah. Things aren’t always what they seem, Jo. Sometimes what you see isn’t really what you get.”

  “What’s that suppose to mean?”

  I wait a moment but he doesn’t respond.

  “Captain?” Nothing. He’s gone. Again.

  ***

  The dream I had last night has been the only thing on my mind all day. I had actually forgotten about Noni showing up for work this morning until I went to The Diner and for the first time in as long as I can remember, she wasn’t there to greet me. I still had breakfast, alone because Damon had an early meeting, but it wasn’t the same without Noni there to chat with. Don’t get me wrong, I’m beaming on the inside for Noni. She didn’t mention it much, but she hated spending her life working in The Diner. But now that I was forced to dine solo, I think I was probably going to The Diner all these years for Noni as much as I was for the food and great coffee.

  When I parked my Volvo and walked up to the store, I saw her standing out front. It shocked me to see Noni in regular clothes with her hair down around her face; I’ve only ever seen her in a fifties-style waitress uniform with her hair pulled back into a bun. She’s a beautiful woman, really; and she looks at least ten years younger with her hair down. Her brown hair is spattered with gray and her brown eyes are rimmed with light wrinkles, but all in all, time has been pretty damn generous to her.

  I had to applaud her for having guts to just up and quit her longtime job like that. I tell her that Margaret, her boss at The Diner, looked like she was majorly constipated when I was there this morning and we giggle for a minute or two.

  I unlock the store and hold the door open for Noni. She walks in and surveys the place. She sticks out two fingers and wipes the dust from the counter where the cash register goes then inspects the grime gathered on her fingers. It’s a good sign in my book; it means she’s aware of cleanliness. It’ll be nice having someone to share the janitorial duties with around here.

  “First thing I need to know is why your coffee is a million times better than the shit that Margaret served me this morning.” I screw up my face just remembering the taste of it.

  “I’ll never tell!” She sticks out her chin and holds her head high clearly proud of whatever the secret is. “Well, maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

  I nod, content with her answer. I walk Noni over to where she’ll be working to show her what we’ve got going already.

  “So when will I meet my supervisor?” Noni asks.

  I arch my brows and purse my lips, at a loss for an answer. I don’t know why she thinks there is anyone else working here. “It’s just you and I, friend. The coffee bar is yours to run. This,” I indicate the entire front corner of the store where the coffee bar is with my hand, “is Noni’s world. This area,” I repeat the motion with my other arm directed towards the cash register, “is Jo’s screwed up little world.” I cap off my explanation with a grin. She is staring at me like I’ve just told her pigs can fly. What the fuck is the problem?

  “It’s just that I thought I had someone in charge of me and the coffee bar.”

  I shake my head side to side. “No. It’s just you. You don’t need a supervisor. I’ve watched you run The Diner like a champ for years. It’s the whole reason I knew you were the one for the job.”

  Before I know it, Noni has wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. I guess she’s happy to be here then.

  We spend the rest of the day brainstorming, but the dream I had last night has been at the forefront of my mind the whole time.

  Not what you get. What you see isn’t always what you get. All at once a light bulb clicks on and I feel like I know what my subconscious has been trying to tell me. Damon. I pull my cell phone from my pocket and send Brian a text.

  Not ten minut
es later, my favorite gay man comes sashaying into the store. “So what was soooo important that I had to cancel my latte date with Jeremy? This better be good. Damon gave me half the day off since he said he had some errands to run.” He folds his girly arms over his chest and props out one Sperry-clad foot.

  I raise a brow at him. “What errands?”

  “Honey, if I knew I’d tell you, but I don’t, so what’s this about?”

  “Don’t be a drama queen. I need your opinion and you can have a coffee here, Noni’s been testing out the fancy machines. Noni, come here!”

  Noni walks over to where we’re standing and I take a deep breath and spill the beans.

  “So Noni doesn’t know this, but Brianna, you do. Damon says he hates his mom and dad and has no interest in either of them. Well, something about it has been bugging me. I just don’t believe that he truly doesn’t want to meet Beverly. That’s her name, Beverly. I saw it when I found his birth certificate. I’m going to try to find her.”

  I survey both their faces. Shock and more shock.

  “Well, say something!” I put my hands on my hips and stare at these two.

  “It’s your grave, honey. I promise I’ll make sure that your flowers are all coordinating.”

  I punch him playfully in the arm then look to Noni for her vote.

  “I, uh, I don’t really know him very well, so I would say follow your gut.” Noni smiles and pats me on the shoulder.

  “Yeah, see, Brianna! That’s called giving advice. It’s a weird concept that friends use all the time,” I draw out my words like a smartass.

  He cocks up one perfectly arched eyebrow and rolls his eyes. “Well, I support you both, but you know he’s going to kill you, right? He’s not interested in a relationship with her, and he hates when you butt into his personal business.”

  Brian has a valid point, but I don’t care. I know that somewhere inside he wants something different than what the outside is saying. It’s what the damn dream was all about. I have to do this. I already know her name, now I just have to find her.

  “Thanks for your advice, girls.”

  Noni starts laughing so hard she snorts and Brian and I join in. The rest of day flies by with us sampling various coffee drinks that Noni has whipped up and debating the merits of adding more muffins or more cookies to the shop’s ever-growing menu. Noni’s even thinking that once everything is established, we can start offering light lunches. My brain is tired and I’m wound tighter than a ten day clock by the time our day is over.

  Noni and Brian leave around five and by 5:15 I’ve given up trying to do more work and gather my things to head home. With phone and keys in hand, I arm the alarm and I walk towards my car. I look at the screen to check my messages and there are two waiting for me.

  Saw Grams today. She wants to see you. Love you. –D

  I quickly go to the other message and open it.

  Going to be late. Have some things to take care of. Love you. –D

  “Going to be late?” I mutter to myself. Where the hell is he? I reply to his text and am lost in thought, wondering about Damon, when I see Andy and Spot headed my direction.

  “Hey, Chaucer. Hi, Andy.” I point the key fob at the Volvo and unlock the car, open the door, and toss in my bag. “How’s he liking the new route?”

  Spot plops down on his hind end and pants.

  “He likes it. Truthfully, I think he likes seeing you every evening better than the actual scenery itself. I can’t blame the guy.” Andy smiles wide at me.

  Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you? “All right, Casanova,” I say as I bend down and pat Spot’s head. I look up at Andy watching me closely. He’s starting to give me the creeps. Time to go. “See you later, guys.”

  “If I’m lucky,” Andy muses aloud.

  I ignore his flirtatious remark and get into my car. Grams has requested to see me and there’s no telling what the old bat has to say.

  ***

  I march into Grams’ suite. Caffeine overload has me jittery as hell. I’m sure she just wants to see me because I’ve been so busy with the store that I haven’t visited in a while, but you never know with Grams. Sometimes she springs stuff on me, like Handy Andy.

  The first thing I see is Elise sitting in the guest chair talking to Grams, looking poised and perfect as usual in a pencil skirt, sleeveless blouse, and heels. Fan-fucking-tastic. She fingers her multi-strand pearl necklace and I wonder what it is she does for a living. I’m sure Damon has told me, she just makes me so uncomfortable that all discussion about her goes in one ear and out the other. I plaster on a smile and walk over to them.

  “Hey, Grams. Elise.” I lean over and hug Grams like I always do. Elise doesn’t even acknowledge me. Bitch. She just looks down her nose like she’s better than me.

  “So what was so urgent, huh? Is there a new handyman that has you all hot and bothered?” I laugh but Grams doesn’t. I pull a chair over from the dining table, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  Grams starts shuffling through some papers on her side table. She produces a letter and shoves it towards me. “Read it for yourself,” she says, sounding exhausted.

  Dear Mrs. Cole,

  On behalf of Las Vegas Federal Credit Union, we would like to extend our thanks to you for your longstanding account with us. You are a valued customer and we are pleased that you choose LVFCU for your banking needs. However, our Fraud Prevention and Detection Department has recently noticed some suspicious and potentially fraudulent activity on your account. We would like to clear up this matter as quickly as possible. Please call at your earliest convenience.

  Best Regards,

  David Herring

  Manager, Fraud Prevention and Detection

  I scrunch up my eyebrows and look up at Grams. “What the hell is going on?”

  “It looks like someone has been stealing from my grandmother,” Elise says in a snarky tone. Her implication is a resounding one that I caught right away.

  I feel like she’s just slapped me in the face. I narrow my eyes at that snobby bitch and advance towards her. “Don’t you dare imply that I would do such a thing! I swear if you dare— ”

  “Stop! Now. I know it isn’t you.” Grams interrupts the threat that was about to fly out of my mouth. “My question is who would steal checks from my bill fold?”

  Edward. “Edward!” I blurt way too loudly.

  They look at each other, surprised, and then turn to me. Did they not consider him already?! It’s not a pleasant thought, but he’d obviously be my first suspect. Elise already told us that he’s desperate for money and Damon has made it clear that he’s not an option for his worthless father.

  “I guess it’s possible. I checked my bill fold and every check but one has been torn out. The whole damn book of checks!” she cries.

  It makes me angry to know that someone has taken advantage of Grams. It’s one of the biggest reasons I think she should be at home instead of here. I grit my teeth and fight to stay calm and collected.

  “Does Damon know about this?”

  Grams shakes her head from side to side in disgust. “No. I haven’t told him. Just you two.”

  “Well, you know what? If Dad stole anything, it’s because he’s desperate and Damon is a selfish jerk who refuses to help his own father!” Elise hisses.

  I lean toward her and spit the most venomous words I can manage. “Elise, you poor, stupid, misinformed twat!” Her mouth pops open and her nostrils flare. I’ve got her attention now. “Number one, he could’ve asked Grams for money, instead of stealing it! And most importantly, number two. Your beloved daddy, the one you’ve been trying to guilt Damon into helping? He’s also the same man that caused the accident that killed my parents. He beat the shit out of Damon when he was growing up. That’s why he won’t help the bastard. He abused him verbally and physically his whole life.”

  Elise is quiet, but I can tell she’s listening. Grams is as quiet as I’ve ever seen her, tears flowing silently dow
n her wrinkled face.

  “Don’t believe me? I’ll bring you the journals that Damon wrote. They’re full of the gory details. One time, your dad smashed a beer bottle on the floor, ground it up into tiny shards with his boot, and then made Damon kneel in the glass for hours. He heated wire coat hangers to whip Damon across his bare back. He broke Damon’s toes once by smashing them with a fucking hammer!”

  “No!” Elise covers her mouth with her hand as her eyes bulge and water.

  “Yes!” I bark loudly. “Yes! That shit happened. Your father did that to his son! So don’t you dare fucking judge him. That monster doesn’t deserve a dime!”

  “Oh, sweet Jesus,” Grams whispers. Her wrinkled hands go to her head. “I should have known. I knew he was a bad father but I never knew…Damon never told me. I should have known,” Grams sniffles and her sympathetic tears turn into sobs of guilt.

  “No, Grams. This isn’t your fault. Damon did a good job of concealing everything. I think everything happened after they moved out of your house, anyway. This isn’t your fault.”

  “I’m calling him.” Elise wipes away her own fresh tears and whips out her phone like it’s a loaded gun.

  “Who?! Damon?” I ask. Please don’t call him; I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone!

  “No!” she yells. “Our fucking father!” She swipes the screen a few times then holds the phone up to her ear.

  “Dad, it’s me.” She pauses to let him speak. “Did you hurt Damon?”

  Silence.

  “You heard me. Did you abuse him? Answer me!” She’s getting angry now, pacing around the room, and I’m almost proud.

  He must’ve made some noise of admission, because Elise sighed and broke down. After what seems like minutes of crying, she finally speaks again.

  “All those years, Dad?”