by KC Falls
"And what is that?" Petulance joined 'needy' and 'whiny' on my list of sins.
"Apart from the mind-blowing pleasure? Pleasure that will only get better and better? Have you considered the fun we could have? I can take you anywhere. I can provide you with any material thing you could desire; any experience you ever imagined and wanted to try."
"That's not what I want from you."
"It's what I have to give." He opened his hands, offering them to me. I felt compelled to take them in my own. He pulled me into his arms and held me tight for a moment. Then he put me at arm's length and looked my still naked body over from head to toe. He shook his head and breathed deeply. "Your body is stunning. I wish I could keep you naked forever."
He picked up my clothes and handed them to me. "Unfortunately, we're in Brian's loft and there's a party in full swing downstairs. Get dressed and let's go give them something to talk about."
Seven
Tristan wasn't exaggerating when he said we'd give 'them' something to talk about. By the end of Brian's party it was obvious to all in attendance that we had something going on. If coming down the spiral staircase together after a long absence from the group wasn't enough, his proprietary body language told the tale.
I only wish that I could have captured the look on Suze and Nicky's faces as they watched Tristan bring me a drink, guide me with a hand at the small of my back, stand behind me with an arm around my waist and whisper in my ear…there were a dozen little things he did that night that said 'mine'. I ate it up, I admit that much. Never mind the questions I might never get answers to. Tristan was claiming me publicly and that mattered more than anything to me at that moment.
The men's reactions weren't nearly as amusing--or satisfying--as the women's. In fact, other than Tom, there didn't seem to be much of a reaction at all. I don't know why I expected any but there had been some innocent flirtation going on with all of them from the beginning. It was a natural by-product of being the lone female in a group of six males.
I had a newly acquired appreciation for my desirability. After all, if Tristan King wanted me I had to at least be in league with Blondie and Blondie. Maybe I expected the other guys to express some regret that they hadn't won the prize.
Thankfully Tom had the sense and enough concern to pull me down from the clouds. He sidled up to me when Tristan stepped up to the piano to sing "Some Enchanted Evening". I was spellbound by his talent and the way he seemed to have chosen the song just for me. I couldn't take my eyes from him as he sang. But Tom managed to wrest at least one ear away.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Raina."
"I think I do."
"Tristan's a playboy and a user. I think the world of his talent and admire his success but I'd jerk any daughter of mine up short if she ever gave him a second glance."
"I'm not your daughter, Tom," I shot back and then softened. "I appreciate the warning. But, has it occurred to you that maybe I'm using him?"
"You don't strike me as the type," he said, a little sadly. "In fact you don't strike me as his type."
I looked at Suze's perfectly manicured hands plunking away at the keyboard. She had several tasteful, elegant and expensive rings on as well as a diamond bracelet. And that was her casual jewelry. Nicky leaned over the side of the baby grand opposite Tristan and beamed a model-white perfect smile at him. I suddenly felt my slightly large front teeth grow to beaver-like proportions.
Tristan sang out the last line of the song: "Once you have found her, never let her gooooooo." He swept his hand toward me and held my eyes. It was corny, it was theatrical and it made me feel like queen of the world. His audience applauded enthusiastically and he took an exaggerated bow before returning to my side.
The party wound down quickly after Suze closed the lid on the baby grand. Tristan and I walked back to our cars in the theater parking lot. It was a beautiful moonless night and the stars were brilliant in the warm night sky. He led me over to my car.
"Don't you think it's time you had a new 'Eep'?"
I laughed at how observant he was. The 'J' had fallen off the word 'Jeep' on the rear door many months before. It wasn't worth trying to replace it. Jenn and I often joked about riding in my 'Eep'.
"I'm kind of attached to my old Eep. Besides, when summer is over and I go back to New York I won't really need a car." I ran a hand fondly over the oxidized red paint on the driver's side door. "This has been a good vehicle. She's never let me down."
"Well, I think she deserves to be put out to pasture. Let me get you a new car."
"Tristan, you're crazy. I wouldn't accept a new car from you. I don't need one and I certainly wouldn't be able to explain something like that to my parents."
"You could tell them a wealthy patron of the arts appreciated your brilliant assistance with his acting over the summer and gave it to you. That would be pretty much the truth."
"No, it wouldn't. Please drop it. It makes me uncomfortable."
"Very well, little one. I'll drop it for now." He brought me into his arms and kissed me long enough and deeply enough to make me try to get as much of my body against him as possible. There wasn't a quarter inch of space between us and I could feel his crotch coming alive against my lower belly. It was all so new that it spun my head. Here I was, standing in a parking lot kissing this gorgeous, sexy and fabulously wealthy man. A man I wouldn't allow to buy me a new car. I giggled at the absurdity of it all.
Tristan gave me a puzzled look. "That wasn't the reaction I expected when I kissed you."
"I'm sorry. I guess there's a surreal quality about me standing here with you that just struck me as …I don't know…a little on the bizarre side." I got on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for tonight, it was…you were fantastic."
"We were fantastic. But we're both tired so I guess it's time to say adieu for tonight." He opened the car door for me. "I'll follow you home."
"It's hardly necessary. I only live a few blocks from here."
"Please don't argue with me Raina. I said I'll see you home."
It was one of those moments that should have come up as a red flag, or at least a yellow one. Instead, it was the first of many times that I would simply accept his terms because the alternative wasn't important enough to me to warrant my dissent. A little thing, after all. Only a little thing.
***
He watched me go up the path and get my key in the lock. It wasn't until he saw that I had the door open that he waved and drove off. I switched on the hall light and had just put my purse and keys on the table next to the door when the phone rang. It was my mother's number. I felt a wave of guilt because I hadn't called her in a couple of weeks. That was followed by the grip of cold fear as I realized my mother was calling me at nearly one in the morning.
"Mom?"
"Raina, sweetheart."
"What's up, Mom?" I tried to keep steady. My mother never, ever called this late.
"I waited to call you until I knew everything was going to be all right. But I'm sure it's going to make the news, so I wanted to warn you. Your dad got into it today with some union thugs. He was hurt."
"Daddy? Where is he? I want to talk to him."
"He's still in the hospital. But the doctors will send him home in a couple of days. He's fine, really. A few stitches and a broken rib or two." Her voice shook even though she was trying to put a brave front on for me. "It was a scuffle over the courthouse building. Some of the workers still aren't satisfied with the contract terms."
"So it got ugly again." My father's firm was one of the biggest contractors in Brooklyn. But Dad wasn't a big supporter of unions. He did all that he could to see that the city struck a hard bargain. Sometimes it seemed he was the only one concerned with the people who ultimately paid the bills--taxpayers like him. I had been frustrated more than once with what I saw as my father's refusal to just do his job and mind his own business. If the unions wanted the city to buy a fifty-dollar hinge where a ten-dollar one would do and the city
didn't mind, then why should my Dad?
"It's like this Angelcakes,' he'd tell me."It's 'cause me, and Bob and Vito and all the rest of our neighbors here are the ones who eat all that padding. Frankly, I'd rather have steak."
I told Mom I'd drive home that instant.
"Don't you dare," she ordered. "It is way too late for that. You don't need to come. He'll be out Wednesday at the latest. You can talk to him tomorrow." I knew my mother too well to buy her story. Okay, maybe it was too late to drive to New York, but with both my sisters on the West Coast, I was the only child available for moral support. She was frightened, and with good reason. We'd had bricks thrown through our living room window and phone threats before. Until Dad was home, she'd be scared shitless. Not that I could do much, but I could be company.
"I'll leave at the ass-crack of dawn, Mom."
"Raina, your language."
I laughed hard at that one. "Mom, I am Donald Harding's daughter. 'Ass-crack' doesn't even merit honorable mention on Dad's list of cuss words."
"You're also my daughter…"
"I love you, Mom. See ya tomorrow."
"I love you too, sweetie, but you really don't have to…"
"Bye, Mom."
"Bye."
Eight
I got up before the sun and threw some jeans and t-shirts into a bag. I was on my way before the sky had a trace of light in it. I realized, an hour out of Stockbridge, that I didn't have the cast list with me so I couldn't have called Tristan if I wanted to. Maybe that was just as well. If I was going to do this 'thing' with him on his terms, calling him with a family crisis was probably not a good move.
I had the theater's number in my phone and I left a message for Tom that I'd have to miss two, maybe three night's rehearsal on account of a family situation. When I thought Jenn would be up, I intended to call her and see if she could pinch hit for me at least one of those nights. I told Tom to give me a call when he got the message and I'd explain. I decided I would leave it up to Tom to explain--if anyone was interested--why I was missing.
The ride was quiet and gave me time to give a great deal of thought to Tristan. Much as I was curious about the circumstances of Elsa's death, maybe it was none of my business. But, being brutally honest with myself, it wasn't her death that was eating me alive. It was the fact that Tristan had loved her enough for 'expectations'. He had loved her enough to expect a lifetime spent by her side. To expect a family, a life, friends, homes, travel--all the things that couples do. He had planned with her and dreamed with her. Irrational though it was, I was jealous of a dead woman. The only woman, apparently, who ever earned the right to expect anything out of Tristan King.
I managed to hit the Upper West Side by seven-thirty thanks to my early start. I avoided the worst of rush hour and was home by just a little after eight. I got the Eep squeezed into a parking spot in front of the Caperelli's house and walked the few yards to our stoop. Mom was waiting at our open door.
It was so great to hug my strong, beautiful mother. After the emotional upheaval of the past few weeks, I found her more comforting than ever. My parents are solid and everlasting--a constant reminder of goodness and love in the world. They are not complicated or mysterious; they're the kind of blessing every child should know. I embraced my mother with gratitude just as I always did when I returned home from time in the Berkshires.
Mom and Dad had always understood that Jenn and I worked the Berkshires because it was a good way to make great pay in a pretty setting not too far from home. New York City is not a place with abundant summer jobs. The Berkshire Hills offered us jobs in the arts and recreation that we couldn't match anywhere else. But we were always aware that the area belonged to people like Suze and Nicky, Brian and Cole, and yes, Tristan. It was always a good thing to come home to a place where we didn't feel like strangers.
Mom and I had a cup of coffee on the stoop and watched the neighborhood bustle alive with kids on their way to school, people scurrying off to work and shop. Mrs. Caperelli came over with a coffee cake from the bakery and we went inside to share it. Mom gave her an update on Dad. He'd called at seven to complain about being cooped up in a hospital and to tell her that the nurses were all angels. He said the meals weren't as bad as people always say they are, but to bring an Italian sub from Delmonico's Deli when she came. Mrs. C would make sure the report was properly 'distributed' through the neighborhood.
My Dad was sitting up in bed watching the news when we got to his room.
"Daddy!" I hugged him gently, trying not to move him too much. He had his left arm in a sling and I could see the bandages around his rib cage. There was a cut above his right eye held together with stitches. I hated to see him like that.
"What are you doing here, Angelcakes? Marjorie, I'm fine. Why did you call Raina?"
"Mom called to keep me from worrying when I saw you getting beat up on the news. She didn't ask me to come, in fact she told me not to. But I wanted to be here."
"Well you're a sweetheart and I'm always glad to have my little girl home."
"I wish it was different circumstances. Dad, you need to stay out of these messes. You're getting older…" It frightened me to think of how many close calls he'd had over the years.
At that he laughed harder that he should have until his ribcage stopped him. But he was still grinning when he threatened to put me over his knee and show me just how old and weak he was.
"Daddy, you've never laid a hand on me, so I would have nothing to compare it to."
We talked most of the morning away and shared the Italian sub plus his hospital lunch among the three of us. He was right, the hospital lunch wasn't half bad. After lunch, I left them to nap a little--he in his bed and she in the recliner next to it. I watched them doze off together just as they did most Saturdays and Sundays after lunch.
I wondered if Tristan would ever get to that point with…well, with anyone. Did he and Elsa take a half-time nap during Sunday football like my sister Amy and her husband Phil? Or did he and Elsa nod off poolside after a two-Mimosa brunch like Olivia and Ben?
Try as I might, I couldn't stop wishing that somehow, some way I would take a cozy nap beside Tristan someday. I knew there'd be more sex. I knew I hadn't begun to experience the kinds of intimate pleasures his body could bring to mine. He would fuck me, suck me, take me this way and that. And it thrilled me to think of it, it really did. But at that moment, in that hospital room, the intimacy I really longed for was dozing beside him in the quiet peace of a lazy afternoon.
***
I took a walk around a nearby park and let my parents rest. I took out my tablet reader and thumbed through a couple of magazines. I watched young parents strolling with their children along the walkways, people taking their dogs out for a mid-afternoon pee and vendors wrapping up their lunchtime shift. They rolled their carts with hot dogs, pretzels and sodas toward wherever it is that food carts go to sleep at night.
I went back to the hospital and spent another hour or so with Dad and then Mom and I called it a day. I was tired from the early start that morning. I had acclimated myself to late nights and sleeping in. Getting up at dawn, combined with my worry about my parents had worn me out.
Mom and I picked up take-out Chinese and I was sound asleep in my room by eight-thirty.
"Raina, Jenn's on the phone." My mother called me downstairs the next morning and handed me her phone.
"Hey Jenn, why are you calling on Mom's phone?"
"Raina, I have been trying to call you since about ten last night!" Jenn sounded frazzled and frustrated.
I went over to my purse where my forgotten phone, now dead, lay at the bottom. "Sorry Jenn, I was so tired I left my phone in my purse and it went dead. I don't even think I brought the charger. Damn."
"Raina, Tristan King showed up here last night. He said he had been phoning the number Tom gave him all through rehearsal. He seemed kinda frantic. He wanted to know how to find you and thought maybe I had another phone number."
&
nbsp; "You could have given him Mom's number." Tristan…frantic because he couldn't get in touch with me? Yessss!
"I didn't know if that would be okay, so I told him I would get in touch with you myself through your Mom's phone this morning. I told him I had talked to you earlier and that everything seemed fine."
"If you don't mind, go ahead and call him and give him Mom's phone."
"Sure thing, Rains. How's your Dad?"
"Beat up, but fine. He's too tough to let a few thugs get him down."
"Keep me posted. I've gotta go to work now. I'll call Tristan right after I get off the phone."
"Thanks, Jenn. Talk to you soon."
Not two minutes later, Mom's phone rang again. She handed it to me.
"Raina," I heard Tristan say in a very serious sounding voice. "Tell me what's going on. Tom only mentioned you had a family emergency. I wish you had thought to call me."
"I didn't think I should involve you. I didn't want to assume…expect anything."
"We'll talk about how wrong you are to throw that at me later. Please fill me in."
I walked out of earshot of Mom and told him everything. About Dad and the unions, about the threats, the bricks and my father's continued defiance of men far more powerful and ruthless than he would ever be. I told him because I wanted someone to lean on. I wanted to know that someone as powerful as Tristan was on my side. He didn't disappoint me.
By ten in the morning, Tristan was having coffee with Mom and I. He'd taken a helicopter from the Hills. Kwan came with him and was sitting outside on the stoop with a newspaper. He was doing his best to appear casual.
My mother was smitten by Tristan's movie-star good looks as I knew she would be. The charm he turned on full blast for Marjorie Harding didn't hurt, either. The sharp-edged side of Tristan that I had glimpsed more than once was utterly missing from the solicitous, gentle persona he showed to my mother. He drew a lot more information out of her than I had ever been able to. I was surprised at just how serious the situation had become in the four years I had been an occasional presence in my parent's house.
