Enlightened Love

by Shara Lanel

“Yes.” He frowned suddenly and looked away.

  “What is it?” It was as if a cloud had floated across his face.

  “Nothing. Just a memory.”

  “Your mother?”

  His frown eased. “No, someone I knew in Simla.” Kerry waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. Instead he sighed and changed the subject. “We are to go boating this afternoon.”

  Kerry wiped condensation from her glass. “That should be fun for you. Have you been before?”

  “No. Well, yes, on a sort of barge on the Ganges, but this is a sailboat. Evan’s.”

  “Evan’s a sailor?” Evan seemed too much of a redneck, someone who’d swill beer and belch while on a fishing skiff.

  “Apparently. Have you sailed?”

  “Yes. Growing up in San Diego I couldn’t help but sail. One of my father’s best friends had a forty-two foot Hunter that we often went out on.”

  Rick’s hazel eyes locked on hers. Kerry had to stop herself from leaning towards him as if pulled by a magnet. “Well, have fun,” she said, wanting to break the spell.

  His fingers tickled her shoulder. He seemed unaware of what he was doing, but the bare touches sent electric pulses shooting down her spine. After a pause, he said, “You are invited as well.”

  “I am?” Kerry shook her head. “Evan didn’t invite me.”

  Another grin. “No, but Lydia did and Evan thought better than to refuse.”

  “Why would Lydia invite me?”

  “To be polite perhaps.”

  “I should stay here.”

  “No. Since you are familiar with sailing, you shall save us if Evan is less proficient than he claims.” His hand gripped her shoulder briefly. So warm and she was so hot.

  “Where is the boat?” She was surprised at the rough sound of her voice. “The James River doesn’t seem large enough for sailing.”

  “Gloucester. Have you heard of this place?”

  “It’s on the Chesapeake Bay, right?”

  “I believe so.” Rick’s gaze scorched Kerry’s skin. His lids lowered and his nostrils flared. What was he thinking?

  *

  Rick felt aroused just sitting next to Kerry. He wanted to touch her again as he had the first night. He wanted to taste her and hold her. What was the matter with him? He had just spent an incredible morning with the most attractive woman he had ever seen. Lydia was independent, intelligent and reminded him of his mother. What more could he ask for? And she seemed genuinely interested in him as well. Rick did wonder about her relationship with Evan. Why hadn’t the old boy snatched her up for himself? Had he tried and been rejected?

  “What time should I be ready?” Kerry asked.

  Rick let his fingers touch Kerry’s shoulder again. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to invite her along. She had given him a chance to rescind the invitation, and he could certainly think of an excuse to give Lydia for Kerry’s absence—job hunting, for instance. But no, he had insisted she come. “Two. What time is it now?”

  Kerry shrugged, smiling, so Rick focused on the small VCR clock. “It seems to be one already.” He was surprised.

  “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

  Rick grinned at Kerry. “Yes, it does.” He looked forward to seeing Lydia again so soon. He also looked forward to the new experience of sailing. “I believe Evan mentioned a restaurant to stop at for dinner on our return. Seafood, I think.”

  Kerry picked at the fray on her skirt. “I really should stay here. Maybe an employer will call and want me to start right away.”

  Why was she frowning? Rick’s hand smoothed down her arm of its own volition. Why was he so attracted to her? Was it because he had already touched her so intimately? Perhaps if he had the opportunity to get that close to Lydia he would feel the same? That would take time. Lydia did not strike him as someone free with her passions, again reminding him of his mother who had been every inch the lady. Kerry stared straight ahead of her, but shivered a bit at his touch. He could have all of Kerry for the asking, because she felt obligated for the room and board. He could take her to bed and end his suspense and it wouldn’t mean she was his life mate. It would simply be the physical act of sex. What if Lydia found out or sensed it? That would be sure to ruin his chances with her.

  Rick lifted his other hand and turned Kerry’s face toward him. “I’ll pay for your dinner. Don’t worry.”

  “No, I…”

  “Call it a loan, okay? You’ve applied for jobs. Soon you’ll be back on your feet.”

  Tears brimmed in Kerry’s eyes. “What if I don’t get a job? What if I can’t get back on my feet?”

  “Of course, you can. Give it time.” This time Rick’s thoughts turned to Inela. He had offered her assistance, told her she could change her life with just a little help and a little effort. And now she was dead. Her life had changed, yes, and Hindu teachings said that she would come back again for a new start, another chance to change her karma, but Rick had not found the thought of reincarnation comforting when he had held Inela’s bloodied body, and he didn’t find it comforting now.

  Perhaps he was being unfair to Kerry by insisting all would turn out well. Perhaps he shouldn’t even be trying to help her. Helping Inela had been useless. Rick sighed. He couldn’t stop himself. The monk still lived in him even if his faith was tarnished. “Kerry, this is just one dinner for one fun day, and I bet you haven’t had a fun day in quite awhile.”

  “No, I haven’t. I can’t remember the last time…” She looked away again, her face sadder than before. Then she pasted on a smile. “Well then, I need to find something boat-worthy to wear out of my pygmy duds.”

  Rick laughed, part in relief, part at her turn of phrase. “I promise not to lay a hand on your clothes again.” His eyes locked with Kerry’s. He didn’t mean that exactly. He couldn’t seem to help but touch her clothes, her skin. Her body. “And you may feel free to use the washer and dryer as needed.”

  “Thank you, Rick.” She placed a quick kiss on his lips. Immediately, his body took notice, his rod lengthening and all of his nerve endings prickling with awareness. He leaned in closer. What was it about her? She was a needy urchin while Lydia was a confident woman. The choice was obvious, but his body didn’t seem to give a damn. His hand lifted, ready to grab Kerry to him and kiss her hard, but he stopped himself. This afternoon he would get closer to Lydia, learn more about her, and, hopefully, Evan and Kerry would refrain from tearing out each other’s throats. And, even more hopefully, he could refrain from tearing off Kerry’s clothes and having her on the deck for all the world to see.

  * * * *

  Kerry heard Evan’s slow drawl through the open door of Rick’s bedroom. He and Lydia had just arrived. She couldn’t make out what was said, but Lydia’s tinkling laugh floated to her and grated on her nerves. Kerry sat on the end of Rick’s king-size bed tying the laces of her Keds. She couldn’t wait for her first night’s tips so she could invest in a new pair of five-dollar Wal-Mart shoes. What a thought to be so happy for a pair of five-dollar shoes! Before she had spent one hundred dollars or more on a pair of shoes without a second thought. Jason had never complained about her shoes, only about her negligee and her clothes and her make-up and the way she talked and laughed.

  Kerry remembered the day she’d met Jason for lunch at Macy’s café. She’d allowed the sales associate at the Estée Lauder counter to give her a makeover. The job was less than stellar, but the girl was young and learning so Kerry hadn’t minded. Then she’d purchased a bag of cosmetics knowing the girl would get commission on the items.

  She’d smiled at Jason when he’d walked into the café, but he had scowled at her. He’d sat down and growled, “You look like a slut. Go wash your face.”

  Kerry couldn’t decide at the time whether she was ready to cry or scream. “I will not,” she said in a low voice, noticing a couple of curious faces looking their way.

  “Wash it off now if you want to have lunch with me. And what’s in the bag?�
�� He grabbed it and dumped the contents on the table. “This is what you spend your money on? Make-up that makes you look like a whore?” His loud voice attracted listeners from the counter now as well. He scooped up the make-up and threw it in the nearest trashcan. She could only gasp in astonishment. Despite what colors the girl had put on her face, Kerry had purchased her usual neutral to warm colors which best complimented her skin tone and eyes.

  “How dare you…”

  “Wash your face!” He towered over her, his face livid.

  “I will not. You may eat with someone else.” She resolutely shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth. After a moment, Jason left. Kerry waited until she thought he’d had time to exit the store, then she’d returned to the Estée Lauder counter, purchased the exact same make-up and left, hoping to avoid any of the observers from the café.

  How early was that in their relationship? Kerry couldn’t recall, but it was one of the many signs that she’d ignored. Her parents had loved him from the start, so that by the time Kerry had stopped ignoring and started complaining no one had believed her. They told her she was making too big a deal about a little temper. She should have followed her gut. She had known something was wrong. It didn’t matter if it was her problem or Jason’s problem, she had known the relationship wasn’t right and she should have just left. The pressure her family applied and her own insecurities had conspired against her and now she was a fugitive living in fear.

  “Kerry, are you ready?” Rick stood in the doorway. He wore khaki shorts and a blue T-shirt with Docker loafers.

  “You’re looking very GQ again, Rick.”

  He grinned. “Just comfortable.”

  Kerry stood and followed Rick downstairs, admiring the view of his lean thigh muscles and tight ass. She greeted Lydia and met Evan’s scowl. Smiling sweetly she said, “So good to see you again so soon, Evan.” Rick gave her a warning eye roll and she shrugged. She could either react with humor and sarcasm to Evan’s attitude or she could wallow in shame. For today, at least, she chose sarcasm. It allowed her to appear impervious to his insults, with “appear” being the operative word.

  “The feeling is not mutual, I assure you.”

  “Evan, don’t be rude,” Lydia purred.

  Ugh, how am I going to stand an entire afternoon trapped in a small space with these people? She wasn’t sure exactly why she disliked Lydia since she had barely spoken to her. Perhaps because she was Evan’s friend. That was an automatic strike against her. Kerry refused to admit that she was jealous of the attention Rick gave Lydia. She didn’t care who Rick consorted with as long as she could stay in his house. She had no claim on him.

  “Rick says that you are joining us this afternoon,” Lydia said as she put her arm around Kerry in a friendly hug. Kerry cringed. “I am so looking forward to this. I’ve never been sailing before. Have you?”

  “Yes, on a forty-two foot Hunter.” That was actually a fond memory she had, not of her father—he’d been brownnosing as usual—but of her hometown. The waves had lapped gently against the hull, a fine spray cooling her feet. The ocean water had been as warm as a bath and the setting sun a beauty to behold. Nothing here on the East Coast could match it, even the time she’d watched the sun sink behind the mountains.

  “A forty-two footer? That’s a nice boat.” Evan’s look was unfocused as if he were imagining it. “Mine’s a bit more cramped than that. Just eighteen feet.”

  Soon they were standing in the alley, getting into Rick’s BMW. Evan seemed to do a mental debate over whether to let Lydia sit next to Rick and get to know him better, leaving him next to Kerry, or let both girls sit in the back. He opted for the latter. “Give you girls some chat time.”

  “What a wonderful idea!” Lydia slid into the back behind the passenger seat leaving Kerry to sit behind Rick. She sank into the leather seat. God, she loved this car. She had driven a Lexus in California, also a nice car. Of course, anything was better than a broken-down VW Bug. She sighed. She’d actually grown fond of that car on the drive across the country. It had character, but it didn’t have individually heated leather seats or air conditioning.

  As Rick drove down Boulevard to the I-95 entrance, Lydia turned to Kerry with a bright smile on her face. “So tell me about yourself. I’m extremely curious.”

  What could she say, Kerry wondered, that would not be incredibly embarrassing? The BMW gained speed on the expressway, and Evan turned on the radio. A voice from NPR filled the speakers. Groaning, Evan quickly switched the dial to the local stuck-on-Led Zeppelin station. The riffs of “Black Dog” efficiently kept Kerry’s voice from being heard in the front, so at least Evan could keep his comments out of her story. She still didn’t intend to explain her stay at Rick’s unless Lydia asked directly.

  “Well, I’m pretty new here.”

  “Oh? Where are you from?”

  “California.”

  “And what made you come out East?”

  Kerry paused. “I just wanted a change of pace. I’ve lived in California all of my life. I felt it was time to see the rest of the country.”

  “That’s brave, that big a change. How do you know Rick?”

  She was tempted to say she was a cousin or friend of the family, but most likely Evan would dispel that myth once told. Out the window, the Richmond Coliseum could be seen as they left 95 to get on 64 East towards Williamsburg. “Actually, we just met recently.”

  “But you’re staying with him?”

  “Temporarily.”

  Lydia eyed her expectantly. What else did she want her to say? “How about yourself, how do you know Evan?”

  “Oh, we go way back. We went to high school together.”

  “Homecoming queen and quarterback?” She tried to stop the venom she heard in her voice. Good Lord, this woman hadn’t done a thing to her. Where were her Society manners?

  Lydia looked at her strangely. “Not exactly. We acted together in several school plays and one year we were both in chorus.”

  “Wow.” She could not picture redneck Evan in a choir robe, or worse in make-up and tights. She smiled, amused by the image this produced.

  “I know. It seems funny now, doesn’t it? It was so long ago, but I miss it.”

  “Acting or Evan?”

  “Friendships actually.” Lydia gazed out the window. “Back then friends were friends wholeheartedly. Everything was straightforward. Now every relationship is mired in the complications of life. Everyone is out to get what they can. They have to survive and sometimes that means walking over other people’s backs.”

  Kerry wondered what she was referring to, but wasn’t sure whether it was her place to ask. They had just met after all. “That’s true,” Kerry said. “Adults have to protect themselves and survive however they can. Kids always have the buffer of parents, teachers, and friends to take care of the serious life stuff.” For a moment, they met each other’s eyes in understanding.

  An AC/DC song came on the radio and Evan turned it up. Rick seemed off into his own little world, oblivious of the blaring rock music or the serious talk of the two women in the back seat.

  Lydia shook herself, laughed, and asked, “Where in California are you from?”

  “San … Francisco.”

  “I can’t imagine leaving a place like that to come here.”

  “Richmond has its plusses.” She hadn’t really discovered what they were, but she was sure they existed.

  “Sure, Civil War monuments, Civil War museums, Civil War battlefields and graveyards.”

  “Don’t you mean the War Between the States?” Kerry had been in town long enough to pick up on some of the racial tension. The rebel flags in truck windows were a clue, and she had heard that there had been quite a fuss when the Arthur Ashe monument had been added to the street known for Robert E. Lee astride his steed.

  “Oh, yes, the War Between the States. I lived in Richmond for ten years, but I’m still a Yankee at heart.” She winked. “Don’t tell Evan though. He might st
art dragging me to the battlefields in an attempt to change my ways.”

  Kerry laughed and Rick looked in the rear view mirror, mouth opened as if startled. Kerry met his eyes and gave him a bright smile. He focused back on the road as someone swerved into their lane. Where Kerry would have shouted at the offending driver, Rick calmly switched lanes without batting an eye.

  Evan directed Rick off the highway and onto Colonial Parkway. Soon they crossed the bridge into Gloucester. No white caps marred the water except from motor boat wakes. The town was small, sporting bait shops and a couple of seafood restaurants.

  Eventually, they turned onto a sparsely populated road that led to Aesop’s Marina. The marina consisted of several docks, one with a gas tank on the end for boat owners to buy fuel. To the left, the dry dock bustled with activity—boats being cleaned, painted and repaired. Just beyond, several men loitered in front of a small convenience store that sold bait, tackle and other supplies.

  The boats themselves ranged from fishing trawlers to house boats to four-masted yachts, and the condition of the boats varied from pristine teak decks and brass fittings to barnacle-crusted I-can’t-believe-it’s-floating boats with broken masts and torn sails. Kerry wondered which Evan owned.

  The four disembarked from the car and walked to the tackle shop where Evan said a few words to the proprietor, then led them down a wooden dock to a boat tied up towards the center. On either side, large, clean boats floated. One boasted a bikini-clad bombshell sunning on the deck and Kerry scowled when she caught the guys ogling her. She noted that Lydia was glaring at Evan, who just grinned. “No harm looking.” He lowered his voice and leaned towards Rick. “Or more than that whenever possible.” Rick didn’t respond, but Kerry could imagine him rolling his eyes. Or did he agree with Evan’s sentiments?

  “Here it is,” Evan said, proudly pointing to a small sailboat that sat low in the water. The paint looked chipped, the sail cover dingy, the teak was blanched and mildewed. This clearly fell into the I-can’t-believe-it’s-floating category.

  “Should I fear for my life?” Lydia asked as Evan stepped onto the boat and turned to give her a hand. She daintily stepped to the deck, barely causing a motion in the boat.