by Mara White
I sip on white wine feeling more and more liberated as the afternoon wears on. I nip at Robert’s ear playfully when I think no one’s looking. I slide my hand up his inner thigh when we sit down for lunch. First my shoes go and at some point after lunch my dress comes off too. Ada and Pearl couldn’t be more pleased that I’ve decided to swim with them and I could care less about how the rest of the party feels. It’s an unspoken rule that the ‘pool’ in an afternoon pool party refers strictly to the kids. There’s a lifeguard on duty and the children too young to swim have been left at home with nannies. It’s not unreasonable that I’ve stripped down to my bathing suit; Ada, at five can barely swim. It’s just uncharacteristic and, possibly, a tad bit scandalous.
The new desire running through my body that Jaylee has planted seems to permeate everything. I feel physically aware, more so than I’ve felt in a long, long time and whatever body issues or insecurities that usually bind me have been magically removed. I am a sensual being and I feel extremely proud and aware of every single inch of myself this afternoon. The cool water is like a tonic to my heated skin. I dip and scream and laugh with my girls enjoying a freedom which is not unlike their own. When I squint up to see Robert he is smiling adoringly at the three of us. When our eyes meet his gaze slowly changes to register lust and the expression hearkens back to the very first weeks of our own romance. My betrayal of my husband’s trust takes on a note of levity in the realization of this simple truth: Robert likes this change in me too.
The next time Stephani is set to babysit, I ask her to come over an hour early. Carmen still hasn’t brought the girls back from their play-date with a neighbor and I’ve been dying for a chance to get her alone and ask her about Jaylee. Stephani acts perfectly at ease when she arrives, which is a relief to me because I’ve been worrying that she would see me differently after our last interaction. She’s wearing super short cut-offs and a tight tank top. She kicks her shoes off in the foyer and walks into the sunlit kitchen where I’m preparing a snack for the girls. I offer her coffee, which she takes with a ridiculous amount of cream and sugar and I invite her to sit down at the eat-in table.
“Are you still thinking about starting classes again in the fall?” I ask her. I’m fearful of jumping right into a conversation about Jaylee.
“I think so, Mrs. Champion. Have you been dancing with Jaylee again?” she asks.
Apparently Stephani doesn’t share the same fear.
“I haven’t. I wanted to ask you some questions about him first. I don’t really know him that well and I want to make sure he’s not a troublemaker or anything like that.” Truth be told, I don’t think I care if Jaylee’s dangerous or not. I have limited access to him and I want to know everything I can about him.
“I wouldn’t say he’s dangerous, exactly. His dad was. He was a Trini, but Jaylee stays out of trouble, I think,” Stephani says.
“His dad is from Trinidad?” I ask, surprised to hear that he’s not Dominican.
Stephanie bursts out laughing and then covers her mouth with her hand. She attempts an apologetic look but amusement is dominating her face.
“No, Mrs. Champion, a Trinitario. It’s a gang. Jaylee’s Dominican,” Stephani says.
“Oh. Did he die?” I ask.
“No, He went to jail, back in the nineties. Jaylee was pretty young,” she says.
He was a little kid in the nineties. Don’t remind me.
“Does he live with his family now?’” I ask.
“Yeah, his sister Janinie and his mom and grandma. Over on 157th street. I think that’s how he got out, of the gang I mean, cause he, like, takes care of his family.”
“What does he do?” I ask. Don’t tell me. I don’t really want to know.
Stephani turns pink and looks down at the floor. Oh, God. I should have left it alone.
“I don’t really know Mrs. Champion. I mean, I think he’s a hustler. You know, like a lot of guys around here.”
I don’t even know what that means. He does something illegal or questionably legal. He sells stuff? He gets by. One more question. You can do it.
“Is he single?” I ask as innocently as possible.
“Jaylee? I doubt it. I’ve known him a long time. He’s a player, always has been. Why, you interested?” Stephani asks, staring me down unflinchingly.
She cuts right to it, I’ll give her that. I can’t stop the flush of heat to my face. I shake my head ‘no’ while I recover from her candor.
“Stephani, I’m married and I’m very happy with Robert. I was just curious as to why he didn’t already have someone to dance with,” I say.
“I think he is,” Stephani says. “Interested, I mean. I heard the rumor that he had it bad for somebody. That, and I saw the way he looked at you the other day.”
I need to be careful with my response. I’m tempted to confide in her just to have someone to talk to, but I know how disastrous that could be.
“That may be the case, but he’s been nothing short of gentlemanly with me,” I say.
Stephani shrugs and grabs an apple from the bowl on the table. She takes a bite and looks at me as she chews. She doesn’t believe me, but she’s not going to contradict me. If she can see it that means everyone can. I have to be careful.
CHAPTER 6
A week has passed and he’s made no attempt to contact me. I’m afraid to call him, afraid that he’ll reject me. My desire to see him, to hear his voice is so acute that I make the decision to go and find him on my own. I ask Stephani to come over and watch the girls despite protests from Carmen. I need to find out his address just in case he’s not at the playground and Stephani is the only person I know who can get it for me. He’s not listed; I’ve already looked. If I end up at his house it will be the first time I’ll see him on his turf and I don’t know if that’s something he’s been avoiding. Stephani gives me the address but not without questions. I tell her that Jaylee has something of mine that I need to retrieve. She gives me both the street and building telling me that she thinks his apartment is on the fourth floor.
It starts to rain as I walk towards the playground. There’s no one there except the park’s maintenance employees and they’ve all gone inside the park-house for shelter. I can see them in there, watching a small television, eating noodles out of Styrofoam cups. I consider asking them for Jaylee, I’m sure they know who he is, but I decide instead to trust Stephani’s directions and I head uptown to 157th street.
His building is a typical one for the area, run down but with some beautiful detailing remaining from when the neighborhood was more affluent. I check the building directory and see the surname Inoa on the fourth floor just like Stephani said. I’m petrified but I force myself to buzz the apartment. A familiar voice comes over the grainy intercom. The rain is coming harder now so I step up and press my body against the front door trying to escape it.
“Jaylee, It’s Kate,” I say into the intercom.
I’m greeted with silence at first and then the buzzer sounds and I push the heavy door open into the foyer. My heart is in my throat just from the sound of his voice. I hope I’m not making a huge mistake. The building smells of sazón and fabric softener. It’s relatively clean and light. The paint is thick from years of coats and it makes the ornate molding look like it’s cocooned. I walk up to the fourth floor and as I come around the corner I see Jaylee, naked except for a pair of jeans, standing in the doorway to his apartment. His arms are extended above his head, holding onto the door’s frame, as if he’s about to do a pull-up.
“Hey,” he says. “How’d you find me?”
“Stephani,” is all I reply. I want to say ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ or ‘sorry I didn’t call first,’ or anything to make the mood lighter, but as I often find, words fail me with Jaylee. Instead, I wait for him to do something.
“Well, come on in,” he says and I think I can hear annoyance in his voice.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. If he can leave it alone, I should be able
to as well. I look around and it seems like he’s the only one home.
“Is your family here?” I ask.
“Nope,” is all he says.
He is annoyed and suddenly I feel awkward and ashamed. Apparently I’ve crossed the line by figuring out where he lives and coming over unannounced. Now he’ll think I’m a stalker. I’m an idiot for chasing after a man twenty years my junior. I’m hit by the familiar wave of grief I feel when I think about no longer having him in my life.
Jaylee grabs my hand and leads me into his family’s kitchen. His touch reassures me and quickly wipes out all of the insecurity and doubting. The familiar electricity between us is still there.
“Sit,” he commands when we reach the kitchen table.
I feel like I’m being scolded. Instead of finding it insulting, I feel relieved. A part of me wants to be punished for my indiscretions. I have been using this man to ignite my sex life with my husband. That’s the nasty truth. It’s not fair to anyone but it’s easier to take his affections than it is to cheat on my husband. The other truth is that my feelings for him are beyond sexual. If the attraction were only about sex, I could take it and walk away, but losing the connection I have with him is just as threatening to me now as losing my family. I’m stuck and I’m miserable. I realize that I came here to make him push me in either one direction or another. I want him to at least help me make the decision or maybe even make the decision for me. I’m the immature one in this relationship. I put my forehead down on the Formica table. I can’t even bring myself to look at him.
“I needed to see you. I don’t think I can live my life anymore without you, I say. I keep trying but it’s not working.“ What if he doesn’t feel the same way about me? I’ve spilled my guts and now it’s too late. He knows I’m obsessed with him.
Jaylee walks over to the sink and pulls what looks like a machete out of the kitchen drawer. I wonder momentarily if he’s going to kill me and the thought doesn’t scare me anywhere near as much as it should. Instead of chopping into me he smiles and grabs a pineapple off the table, puts it onto a chopping block and hacks off the top and bottom of the fruit. He’s seems unaffected by what I just told him. His smile steals me away from my serious thoughts and I watch with awe as he slices away the sides, rotating the fruit and following the contoured edge with the ease of street fruit vendor. He cuts with easy flourishes of the machete and fills a plate with large, bite-sized squares. My misery has dissipated completely and I’m grinning, enjoying his game.
“Did you come here to make drama?” Jaylee asks me.
“No,” I respond.
“Why’d you come here then?”
“To see you,“ I whisper trying to calm my overactive nervous system.
“Kate,” Jaylee says, “I think you came here to fuck me.”
I open my mouth to respond and Jaylee leans forward and inserts a piece of pineapple into it before I can speak.
“Suck,” he commands.
I do as I’m told. The fruit is stunningly sweet and acidic. It makes me squint. He releases the fruit into my mouth and deliberately licks the juice off his thumb and forefinger. He takes a large bite of pineapple himself and his face breaks into his irresistible smile. Juice runs down his chin and he wipes it away with the back of his hand. He’s playing with me, toying with my overwrought emotions.
“Come with me,” Jaylee says with the quick upward nod of his chin. He takes my hand and pulls me towards the bedroom.
Jaylee’s mother and grandmother share the bedroom and his sister, Janinie, has a smaller bedroom that is accessible only by passing first through the larger one. Jaylee tells me that he sleeps on the couch in the living room. The idea of him not having a bed makes me feel sad and protective of him. I want to buy him a bed. I want to invite him to live at my house where he could have his own room.
“Don’t looked so shocked,” he says. “It’s comfortable. I’m used to it.”
The bed in the larger bedroom is made up and covered with a crocheted afghan in bright colors. The entire room is impeccably neat. A large poster hangs behind the headboard that depicts footprints in the sand along the ocean and the caption reads ‘Siempre Contigo.’
Jaylee pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around me. The electricity of his touch runs through me and I can feel my own heart pounding against his chest. I want him to lead me; I want him to take control. I’m not confident enough in my decision to be intimate with him to be able to initiate anything.
“Did you do what I said the night we went dancing?” he asks.
Do I tell him the truth? How is it that he makes me feel like I’m cheating on him with my own husband? Aside from the finger slip in the New Jersey parking lot, Jaylee and I have primarily acted as friends.
“No, I didn’t,” I say. “But I wasn’t thinking about you while I did it. I mean, I didn’t pretend. It seemed more fair that way. . .” I feel his body tense as I’m talking. He doesn’t like my answer.
Jaylee’s chest is moving up and down visibly as he tries to control his breathing. He lets go of me and balls his fists at his sides. His usually soft yellow eyes flash rage and machismo. He looks as if he wants to hit me.
“Fair?” he says. “What the fuck is fair about any of this? I haven’t fucked anyone in three months. Since the day we met, I never even looked at another woman. And you’re fucking married. How is that fair?”
Okay. I guess this is a fight? We’re fighting. We’re barely friends and we’re definitely not lovers, but we’re having a fight. Our eyes meet and the connection is fierce and the pull unyielding. Maybe I’m ruining his life too; maybe we’re destroying one another. After only three – four encounters, we’re already making each other miserable and insane. I can’t tear my eyes away from his face. I feel the need to push it further. I want him to react.
“I never asked you to restrain yourself from sex for me. Go fuck whomever you want! Why do you care if I have sex with Robert or not? You’re not my boyfriend. You’ve never even kissed me!” I yell the last part to let him know that I’m insulted.
“I didn’t know if you wanted me,” he counters.
“Jesus, Jaylee, you’re all I think about!” I say.
A shadow of surprise crosses his face and then he lunges at me like an animal on the attack. His body crashes into mine with such force that I am knocked back against the dresser and perfume bottles and figurines go flying. I hear something break as it hits the floor. Jaylee grabs my face with both hands and kisses me with an aggression that borders on violence. His teeth bite into my lower lip and I can taste the salty metal of my own blood. His tongue probes deep into my mouth insisting that I return the kiss. And I do. Eventually, his body begins to relax against mine as I respond more to his kiss. His urgency quickly changes from violent possession to sexual need and he presses his erection against me. His mouth softens against mine and every nerve in my body responds, hyperaware with arousal. Jaylee pours himself into me with his kiss and I can feel both his vulnerability and his fear for the very first time. I treasure them both.
He lifts my leg around his hip and runs his hand up my thigh, under my skirt. His fingertips on my skin are pure electricity, a match to flint. His hand reaches around my ass and he slips his thumb right through the lace of my underwear. He punctures the material with his thumb and uses his fingers to swiftly tear them off my body. It hurts me and he must know that it does. His other hand quickly undoes his belt and jeans and they fall to the floor. He shoves his hips forward spreading my thighs apart. Without foreplay or warning he enters me with a single thrust, and surprised by my own body, I’m wet enough to receive him. Jaylee pulls away from the kiss and lowers his face into my neck while he thrusts deep and hard inside me. There is still lingering aggression in the act and he doesn’t look at me or touch me. He just clings to me and continues to pound against me. I feel his body stiffen and freeze and then release. He groans as he comes inside of me, slamming his body into mine again. He didn’t ask me
if he could, but I guess I didn’t tell him not to either.
I’m shocked by the lack of intimacy and the vacancy. It’s the opposite of what I expected from him. I suddenly feel like I really don’t know him at all, and the truth is that I don’t. I know nothing about him. He grabs a towel off a shelf and wraps it around his waist. He offers me no words, no comfort, not even the towel. After I pull my clothing back together, he grabs my hand and leads me directly to the front door. He still won’t look at me. If he wants me to leave without a word, he’s in for a surprise. I refuse to be merely a receptacle for his release. I know he has feelings for me. What I don’t understand is why he’s bent on denying them.
“Is that how you like to have sex?” I blurt out. “That’s not what I expected from you. For us. It definitely wasn’t up to my standards.”
He looks down at the floor and shifts his feet.
“Jaylee, if I just wanted to go fuck some dumb kid that’s what I’d do, okay? I need you to give me a little bit more of yourself. I need you to at least be present for Christ’s sake.”
He says nothing and crosses his arms over his chest.
“I’m going to be generous with you and consider that our first time having sex and not our last,“ I say.
