by K Larsen
“Flabber, what?” I ask pulling back a bit to free her mouth.
“Flabbergasted; astonished. I’ve always liked that word.” I laugh at her and pull her back into my chest.
“Flabbergasted is a great word, Jess.” I kiss the top of her head. Her hair is like cashmere against my lips. “Should we meet at the grand fireplace at eight?”
She peels herself away from me and nods with the most radiant smile on her face. I let her go and shut the door behind me.
I pass through the lobby and back to the parking lot to get Luke’s and my bags from the truck. The walk to the cabin is short, but quiet. The path is wood chips with small lights every ten feet or so to keep it illuminated. The temperature has dropped a bit but it’s still comfortable without a jacket on. The canopy of trees offers small glimpses of the stars overhead that have just begun to come out for the night. I arrive at cabin six. It’s a true log cabin, complete with a bug zapper hanging from the porch. It looks to be about three hundred square feet. I use the key given to me and push through the door. To the left is a small kitchenette. To the right is a small fold out table with chairs and the bathroom. Straight ahead is a large bedroom with two king sized beds. It’s plenty of room for a weekend away. It’s perfect for a weekend away when you have a lover and don’t intend on leaving the cabin. I wander into the bedroom and set down our bags. The two windows overlook the lake. The water looks smooth and glassy with the moonlight shining down on it.
It’s nearly seven. I sit on the chair next to the window and prop my feet up on the windowsill. Jess. She’s a ten minute walk away from me right now. Luke’s a good man for entertaining himself right now. I need quiet to think, to process. Just for a moment. I can’t quite wrap my brain around the situation. Jess is here. I’ve touched her. Smelled her. Heard her voice. It’s surreal and it has me twisted up. Are we too old to be doing this? Is it going to scar our kids? Or are we old enough to do what’s best for us and trust the kids will be okay? My brain hurts from the constant barrage of thoughts. One thing I don’t need to debate is that I want more of her. So much more.
At eight, I make my way up to the main building. I walk through the impressive lobby and into the room to the left. There’s a bar at one end. I head over to ask the bartender a question. Jess is standing at the grand fireplace in heels and a comfortable looking tunic and cigarette pants. I sneak up behind her. Place my hand on the small of her back. “There’s this song that makes me think of us. Sometimes I listen to it as I fall asleep so I’ll dream about you.”
Jess whips around with a little jump before she composes herself and grins at me. “What song?” A man hands her a glass of wine.
I can feel myself turning red. “You probably don’t know it. I have a thing for old, old songs.” I watch the way her lips connect with the glass. The way her throat moves as she takes a sip and swallows.
“Tell me, Ty.” She hands me a napkin with a variety of cheeses on it.
“‘Trust In Me,’ Etta James,” I say quietly.
“Wow, an old soul. Who would’ve thought?” She’s . . . flirting. Her eyes sparkle in the dim light. I suddenly feel like I’ve had something to drink, which is ridiculous.
“Should we sit?” I ask. Jess nods animatedly. I guide her towards a comfy looking, oversized chair next to the fireplace. She sits, toes off her heels and tucks her legs underneath her. I try to sit on the edge of the chair to give her some room, but she waves me in closer to her. I’m glad. I don’t want to lose sight of her, now that she’s here. I made sure to use the restroom before I came up here. There is no way in hell I’m taking that chance again and finding her gone.
“So,” she says.
“So,” I parrot. I pop a cheese sample into my mouth. Jess’s eyes go wide. As I chew, my nose starts to tingle and scrunch up. My tongue tastes like, like, pungent, mushy vomit. My instinct is to claw at my tongue and get it all out of my mouth but I can’t do that here. Jess starts waving her hand in the air. Tears start welling in my eyes.
“We need some water, please,” she says to the waiter. She moves the other cheese samples to one hand while her wine is cradled between her knees. I take the napkin from her and try to purge my mouth of the awfulness that’s invaded it. “Epoisses,” she says and nods to the napkin at my mouth. “It’s actually been banned from public transportation all over France because of the smell.”
“Now you tell me?” My words sound funny as I continue to get every last bit out of my mouth. Jess laughs. It’s loud and infectious and instantly makes me forget about the taste and smell in my mouth. The waiter brings a glass of water, which I chug before promptly joining in on the laughter. “Okay, great cheese expert, what should I eat that I might actually like?” Jess picks up a sample from her hand and places it in my palm.
“Cheddar is probably safe.” And just like that, we’re laughing again.
There are a few other couples meandering about when the bartender turns up the music. We’ve managed to keep the conversation light—for now. I know we both have questions. We’re both new at this, unsure of what’s appropriate and not. I stand and set my water glass on the hearth of the fireplace before taking her second glass and doing the same. A cover of ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ starts and I reach out my hand to her. “Dance?” She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. I waggle my outstretched hand at her for emphasis. She hesitates but takes it and I help her up. She’s graceful as she slips on her heels and looks up to me. I pinch the matchbook the bartender gave me between my forefinger and thumb, just out of her sight. Reaching forward I slip my fingers into one of the pockets on the front of her pants, deposit the matchbook and pull her hips to mine. She looks dizzy. Her breath comes in uneven gasps, as I take one hand in mine and guide her other to my shoulder before wrapping my arm around her waist. We’re flush. Chest to chest. I start to move and she presses into me. A low groan slips from my lips. “You look beautiful tonight. I should have told you sooner.”
“Oh, stop.”
“I don’t want to stop.”
“In that case, I suppose you may continue,” she says.
“Your eyes are like the sunlight on a clear blue ocean.” I twirl her out away from me and back in. “Your hair is like cashmere.” I roll her backwards, she kicks up a leg with a little laugh. “The sound of your voice feels like home.” And I want to run and hide. I was on a roll there, doing great, but that last one just slipped out. It’s the truth, but it’s too much too soon. I try my best to cover my gaff. “Your freckles are still there, and perfect.” She stops us from dancing and looks directly into my eyes and further, to my soul. It’s like I don’t need words, she can just see into me and know. It’s a strange but comfortable feeling.
“Please don’t hold back what you want to say. I don’t know what’s right or wrong at this point but I know that I like hearing how you see me.” She looks bashful but proud that she spoke up. I take her face in my hands. My thumbs stroke over her cheeks slowly. So soft. I should kiss her. It takes all my willpower not to kiss those lips as her tongue darts out and wets them. Her fingers claw at the shirt at my waist. It’s almost as if she’s willing me to do it. Instead, I lean forward and kiss her forehead. “Just don’t leave without saying goodbye this time and we’ll be okay,” I say.
“I’m sorry, Ty, I’m so,—” I stop her with a finger to her lips. “Shh,” I tell her. “I wasn’t scolding you. Just letting you know that this time—that won’t fly.”
This is what second chances feel like, magical and decadent, almost like you’ve beat the powers that be at their own game and you’re dancing on borrowed time and a slowly sinking ballroom—but you won’t let it stop you. The fireplace is roaring and the lights in the great room are dimmed all the way down. Ty proves to be a phenomenal dancer and we’re not talking about the waltz. His hips pressed against my pelvis, made my insides turn to liquid. Forget everything I ever learned about decorum, if he goes in for the kiss, I’m done for, I’ll have no defense a
gainst the swell of desire that is quickly overtaking every inch of my body.
My thoughts make me stare at his lips while we dance. His are so full and wide, mine dwarf in comparison. Then my mind blips on the thought that I’ve never kissed a black man. I haven’t kissed many men to begin with, minus some awkward exchanges in high school and then a few frat boys at college before I met John. I wonder how racism has affected his life and if it’s been hard for him. It can’t be easy coming to a place like this, where people are polite but their eyes linger just a little too long on your face, wondering what your story is. Or where people look back and forth between you and your son, silently questioning if his mother is white and whatever that could possibly mean to them. But Ty is so noble and forthright, if it weighs on him, I’d be hard pressed to tell. Or the simple truth could be that he’s dealt with it all his life, so by now he’s used to it. He sits me back down in our designated loveseat and does a silly bow in front of me.
“Would my lady like more wine?” he asks and I smile at him and nod. I can’t seem to stop staring at his lips. I watch his handsome profile as he goes to the bar. All he said was, “my lady,” but I liked the sound of it so much, that I’m holding back everything inside me to not chase after him and throw myself into his arms.
I need to cool down, get my head on straight and try to keep it together. This is more romance than I’ve had in so long, that I’m getting swept up in the allure of it. We need to talk—we need to be serious about some things. I meant to ask him about not drinking and I haven’t even yet broached the subject of his late wife or offered him my condolences. He walks back over toward me and I drink in all of his maleness, from his close cropped greying hair, to the how his button-up shirt molds to him. He’s muscular and entirely in shape, a man who works hard with his body and likely hits the gym a few times a week. I’m trying to focus on something meaningful to say when Ty approaches, he hands me the wine and runs his fingers down my cheek.
“You’re really flushed. Does the wine do that to you? Maybe we’re too close to the fireplace, want to step outside for a minute?’
I take his hand and rise to my feet. I just fell for him a little more from the sweet concern on his face. We step out onto a wide balcony that overlooks the rising hill behind the lodge. The night is crisp and sweet smelling, with just a touch of firewood smoke in the air. The stars are out in droves and the moon is a thin crescent. When I look out over the edge, I can just make out some of the cabins. They look so homey with yellow lights warming up the windows and faint wisps of smoke rising up from their chimneys.
“The cabins have fireplaces, too? That must be so cozy!”
“You should come up to check it out. I’ll build you a fire and make you hot cocoa.” Ty arms slides around my waist and I lean my weight into him. I can’t stop thinking about the kiss and without planning, my lips find their way to his neck.
“Jess,” he says. I love the way my name sounds with his voice. I nip at the warm skin on his neck and feel as if I’ve lost all control of myself.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Don’t be sorry.” And in that instant, his lips find mine and we are truly reunited in a tentative, adoring kiss. Our kiss is timid at first and then I open up to him. His hands go to the back of my head and he massages my neck as he deepens his kiss, using his tongue. I haven’t kissed like this for so long, maybe ever. It makes my heart race, my loins ache and without even meaning to, I’m slowly grinding into him. When we release for air, we say only each other’s names.
“Jess.”
“Titan.”
Then we’re back in the kiss again, reopening all of the doors that slammed shut so many years ago. The two of us under the same unforgiving moon, maybe a little more mature, but still harboring the same craving to connect deeply with the other, someone so mysterious, yet so incredibly familiar, all in the same moment.
In our kiss under the moon, it feels like time folds in on itself. It could be that night. Ty on the verge of destruction and me, running from a man who I knew couldn’t understand me. But on this second try, we do it right. We fall into each other’s arms and trust the feelings that had overwhelmed us. We give in to the desires that coursed through us back then, this time we don’t judge them—we follow their lead.
Ty pulls back and he cups my face in his big palms. He strokes my cheeks with his thumbs and stargazes in my eyes. Then he throws his head up to the sky, almost as if to hold back tears.
“Jesus, is it too weird to say I’ve missed you?”
I shake my head and now my tears are all falling freely. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face into his shirt, breathing in his warm scent.
“I’ve missed, too, Ty. So much.”
“Are you crying, baby? Don’t cry,” he says and lifts my chin up.
Then I’m kissing him again, more passionately even than the first time. My mind is blurred with lust and I’m losing feeling in my arms from holding him so tight. He responds with enthusiasm and thrusts his tongue deep into my mouth. Calling me “baby,” undid me, I’m seconds away from tearing my clothes off right here on the balcony.
“Come back to my room,” I say breathlessly, pulling away just the slightest bit.
We rush, hand in hand, to the elevators in the lobby. I’m praying The Shining is still running and Angie hasn’t gone back to the room. His hand settles on the small of my back as we wait impatiently for the elevator. It dings and we step inside and Ty pushes me to the back wall. It’s not aggressive but it’s forceful and it undoes me yet another notch. I can feel my underwear soaked between my legs and this time, I moan out loud into his kiss. My hair has fallen out of its clip and Ty has his hands in it. From my hair to my neck to my shoulders to my ass, I moan again and Ty presses his erection into my belly. I grind shamelessly onto his leg. I have no idea what’s come over me. I’ve never in my life acted so out of control of my own body. What if someone walked in, what if there were press with cameras. I don’t care about anything but getting more of Ty and more of this intoxicating feeling he’s bringing me.
The elevator stops on our floor and we tumble into the hallway, still kissing, still groping. He’s a bit rough and his stubble is bruising my mouth, but I love it so much, I would never tell him to slow down. He takes my hand and leads me to the door, reaches his hand in my back pocket and pulls out the key card.
“Jesenia, I’m going to walk you in and kiss you goodnight and be out in five minutes,” he says almost panting. I pout like a child. I can’t believe it’s already ended.
“Stay, Ty. Please? I’ll call and reserve us a separate room. I don’t want to spend another moment away from you, it’s been too long already.”
“I know and don’t want to make this any harder than it already is. You’ve had wine. It’s our first night. We both need to think about this.”
I open the door into my dark room and kick off my kitten heels. I pout more and throw my hands on my hips and then run right back into his arms because I can’t stand to be apart from him.
“Believe me, when I tell you how badly I want you. I want to show you what you do to me and I want it to be something we’ll never forget.”
“Show me then,” I whisper into his ear. I nip at his earlobe and suck it all the way into my mouth. I don’t even know who I am at this point, I’m so worked up from kissing him. He shoves his thigh between my legs and it provides friction in the right spot. Again I make noises, which is completely foreign to me. I’ve always been silent in the bedroom and my vocalizations are scaring me. But Ty seems to like them, he kisses me harder every time they escape.
“I would be devastated if you regretted anything we did. I want to make love to you so badly, but I want to do it the right way. Look at me for a minute.”
I obey and look into his eyes. Can it really be that we’ve only ever spent hours together? I’ve never felt so connected to another person in my life. Ty feels like home to me to and I barely know him.
; “I don’t want this to be one night or a weekend fling or just sex. You and I are bigger than that, Jess, and I believe wholeheartedly that we were meant to be together. Let’s let it breathe for tonight and tomorrow we’ll wake up and make sure it’s what we both want. I’m not talking about casual or no strings attached or dating or any of that. If I have my way—it means you and me forever, whatever that may look like.” They say nights were made for saying things you can’t say in the light. I decide to just go for it. This is one of the few moments when I wish I could enjoy a little liquid courage.
“So I’ve thought a lot on this whole thing and here’s what I’ve come up with—some relationships are anchored by their faith in God, when everything falls apart, both parties come back to their faith and it holds them together. Some relationships are anchored by their deep appreciation and respect for their partner. That’s what Rory and I had. When things got tough, our respect and admiration for each other held us together. But you and I?” I take her hand in mine. It feels right. “We have something different, we’re anchored by a moment in time. A chance encounter. We’re anchored by hope. Hope’s Diner. At first, I thought maybe that wouldn’t be enough. But, hope is an incredibly powerful thing. The hope you gave me stuck with me for twenty years. It’s a solid foundation to build on and I want to at least try.” She starts to open her mouth and she looks worked up. Flushed. Beautiful. Brimming with thoughts and words and emotions. “Now, kiss me, woman.” Jess smiles at my command. My lips ghost over hers. Warm breath and silky softness. I brush my fingers over her lips and kiss her forehead. Jess closes her eyes and slows her breathing. She nods her head with her eyes still closed. I memorize every curve, line and angle of her face before I slip out the door.
