by Dela
“Hey, mom.” I turned my back as if her not seeing my face would prevent her from hearing. I knew this was about that quite inconceivable deadline. I took a couple steps farther from her just in case. “Yes, I know. Will you please tell Steve to stop calling you and that he can call me directly if he has any further questions about me and dad’s will. No, mother. I have company . . . Jessie . . . I’ll ask . . . okay, mom I really have to go I can’t talk about this now . . . yes, I’m sure. The deadline is taken care of . . . because, ask Gizelle . . . alright, mom. Love you. Yes, I’ll call you later.”
“What was that about?” Jessie asked. She was at the sink chopping veggies and adding them to a bowl she’d found in my cabinets. I was impressed; I was still learning where my secretary put things. I leaned over and glanced inside. The thawed beef sat at the bottom, underneath ketchup, breadcrumbs, and other spices.
“It’s nothing. Just some last-minute business regarding my dad’s will. Can I help?”
“Seven years later? Is everything okay?”
I smiled. “Better than okay.”
“Who’s Steve?” Her eyebrows rose. That wasn’t good, was it? Was that what women did when they were suspicious?
“Oh he’s our attorney . . .” I began “ . . . in charge of the will. He keeps calling my mom about minor details that entail me.”
“Will you pass me the onion, please?” She moved calmly through the veggies. Kendal, you’re being an idiot. Just tell her about the stupid deadline! But the more I though about it, the more I was afraid to go through with it. What if she didn’t believe me about any of it? What if she was only into me for the money? Telling her before the deadline just couldn’t happen . . . too much to lose.
I reached across the counter and passed it. Her movement was subtle and swift as she grabbed the layered ball and placed it on the cutting board, but she paused and looked up. Her eyes, large and enchanting, tricked my heart into racing unnaturally.
“So when do you leave to go home?” I asked, fading into some sort of trance. She was too beautiful.
“The twenty-third, after school.” She looked back down. Lift, chop. Lift, chop.
“What day is that?”
“Wednesday.”
“So you have school this Monday and are off Wednesday?” I wondered, conspiring.
“Yes.”
“And when do you get back?”
“January right before school.”
I hadn’t thought it through, but I knew I wanted to spend every moment with her. “Jessie, would you want to stay with me until you leave for Georgia?”
She put the knife down and finally looked at me. “For the weekend?”
“Actually, until Wednesday. I can take you to the airport.”
Her perfect eyebrows rose. “You want me to stay with you until Wednesday?”
“Yes. After dinner we can go back to your place, pick up your things, and stay here until Wednesday. It would be like we were snowed in!”
She thought silently and shook her head. “I have to teach on Monday and Tuesday.”
“Don’t you have time you can take off? Sick days maybe?”
“Yes, but what if I really do get sick. Then what?”
“Come on, Jessie. Take a whim.”
She laughed a little as she bit into a bell pepper. “Alright. And if I get sick then you will rub my feet and spoon feed me every day until I get better.”
“Deal. Actually, I’ll do that for you no matter what. I love your feet.”
“I was joking!” She turned around and her shoulders lifted as she rose to her toes and pressed down inside the bowl, kneading the meat and veggies.
I began massaging her shoulders; I leaned into her ear and whispered, “I’ve never been more serious.”
Her shoulders went slack as I went firm in my briefs. I pressed softly against her.
“Don't be serious,” she abruptly said, side stepping away from me.
“Why not?” I snagged a carrot left on the cutting board and took a quick bite. “Do you think we would have met if I followed the rules? I changed my booked seat for a chance to sit with you. Your turn, Jessie. Take a whim, please?”
She moved to the oven and stayed silent for a long moment. “Let me see if I can find a sub.”
After dinner we took my Maserati to her place to get her overnight essentials. I made sure she brought every bra I bought her while she made sure she brought every article of clothing to keep her warm.
“I’m trying to get you to take your clothes off and you’re trying to put on everything you own it seems.” I chuckled, watching her place a thick knitted sweater in her duffle bag.
She laughed with a shiver. “I can’t seem to warm up. How about we compromise. I’ll put the bras on underneath my sweater, then I can lift up my sweater to show you.”
“My girlfriend is going to . . . flash me?”
She laughed. “That sounds lame, doesn’t it? Hmm . . .”
“I’ll just crank the heat up at my place. I didn’t know you were so cold.”
She walked to the closet, then came out with something in her hand. I tried to see but she kept her fingers clenched tight around it and shoved it in her bag real quick. “Thanks babe. Well, I’m ready to go.”
We returned to my place just as it started snowing, and first thing I did, as promised, was turn the heat up.
“Which side do you sleep on?” Jessie asked, standing at the foot of my bed with her duffle bag in hand. I stared back with a pressed smile. I couldn’t believe she called off work on such short notice.
“Left, but you can sleep on whatever side you want.” I answered.
“That’s okay. I’ll take the right.”
I watched as she moved in an organized manner. First, she removed her toiletries and placed them inside the bathroom. Then she returned to her duffle bag and began unpacking flannel pajamas.
“Are you nervous?” I wondered.
“No, why?”
“Flannel?”
She smiled, sliding the soft cotton to the edge of her pillow, then pulled out a flimsy, barely-there nightgown. I grinned.
“Oh you mean this?” She dangled it on one finger. I bit my lip and nodded. “She only comes out on special occasions.”
“She?”
“She.”
“This isn’t a special occasion?” I grunted, impatient. I took a step near her. She took a step back.
“You have to earn her,” she laughed.
“How do I earn her, love?”
She looked around in a quick sweep and then smiled. “Why, we must christen every room in the house, of course.”
My pulsed raced at an alarming rate, and my jaw dropped. “Seriously? Don’t tease me like this.”
She started unzipping her jeans. “Never been more serious in my life.”
My groin throbbed as I watched her undress herself, lifting her sweater above her head. She was wearing that lacey bra I bought for her. This time it was she who took a calculated step toward me, closing what small gap there was. I could feel her hard nipples through the lace as it pressed against my chest. I dipped my finger into her panties and moved it along the edge softly.
She watched my hand and then looked up slowly through her lashes. “There’s just one rule,” she said.
“What?” My voice cracked through a dry whisper. I could barely speak, I was so horny.
“We make love like we’re seven years younger.” I gulped as her hand grabbed my length. “Like we were in Whistler.”
It was cold inside the living hall. I always thought the ceiling was too high, but then again, we were naked now. I turned on the fire and switched on the LED lights inside. Their brilliant colors quickly lit Jessie’s face to a shade more suiting. She was watching me with a frisky grin that sent chills down my skin. I smiled back; she’d had that look since we christened the office.
We laid ourselves side by side on our thick, lucky blanket. We called it our lucky blanket since it was the
lucky bastard chosen to accompany us to each room. I wrapped my arm around Jessie and let her lay her cheek on my chest.
“It’s nearly one, are you tired yet?” I asked.
“Getting there.”
“How many christenings are supposed to happen tonight?”
She chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ve got three days to do this. Plus I know your diamond-chipper must be pretty pooped by now.”
“I can go all night!” I stated, but I knew I wasn’t fooling her when she fondled my parts and nothing happened right away. Not even the slightest pucker. “Okay, I’m human. Two in two hours, no big deal. But fifteen in eight? I might dry up and die before that happens.”
She rolled onto her side and lifted one leg across my body. “You’re a perfect human, Seat 2A. It’s tempting to dry you up, but I’m not the devil. Let’s christen this room, because I’m wet as a lollipop, and then we can go to bed. Good?”
“Lollipop?”
Jessie moved to her knees and towered over me. “Feel for yourself.”
It took everything in me to not ram my finger into her. Instead I promptly slid a finger underneath her and felt a sweet moistness, much wetter than last time. She moaned and rocked her hips as I gently grazed my finger along her, lathering my finger with all her goodness. Jessie grabbed my now-existent erection with a firm grip as I took my slick finger and slid it into my mouth. Every atom exploded as I tasted her sweetness, and she was rubbing me like a pogo stick.
I couldn’t control myself. I swiftly clutched her hips and lifted, letting my body slide beneath her to get a better taste. “I’m going to suck you so hard,” I moaned.
And I did, like the devil, as her legs shook at my sides.
“I don’t want you to go, Jessie Evans,” I said outside at the terminal drop off Wednesday morning. “You’ve no idea how badly I wish you would come with me.”
“And tell my family what? Ma, Pa, I’m running off with my lover boyfriend!” She giggled at the thought of it. Her Southern accent didn’t come out often but suddenly it was here, melting me into a devoted puppy. She clenched onto her large, polka dot suitcase, stuffed with every article of clothing known to man. Earlier in her room as she was packing, she threw a mitten at me when I laughed at how many layers the woman had to wear. It only made me come on to her, and we made the sweetest love I’ve ever had, next to our christenings of course.
“I’ll call you when I land, promise,” she said, pressing her hand to my chest, absently fixing the collar of my jacket. “And this will be good to take a break from one another.”
“Very well.” My hands embraced her cold cheeks.
“I’ve got to go, Kendal.”
Without a word I kissed her soft lips. She wrapped her arms around my body and squeezed. I didn’t have it in me to let go and was surprised that too soon she was backing away.
A panic formed in my throat all at once. I didn’t know what sort of life Jessie had back at home. What if she had a friend, who was a boy, who all of a sudden confessed his love for her? What if Regina was there telling her I was damaged goods? What if her parents were offended that I gave her a key to my place?
“Miss me, Jessie,” I said through my tightening throat.
Her doe eyes softened with a smile. “We’ll be together before you know it.”
Then she turned and walked away, leaving a stifling sort of panic to consume me. I let my feet stay glued to the floor until I could no longer see her, then I went on my way back to my christened house, alone.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kendal
Christmas morning I was walking through the airport, neck pillow in hand, when my phone buzzed. A cat wearing a Santa hat flashed on the front screen and in big bold letters I read, “Meowy Christmas.” It made me chuckle aloud and I quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed.
And I knew, without distaste but to much satisfaction . . . I was turning into one of them—those cat-loving folk. No heads were facing my direction so I resumed with my reply.
Classy! What are you doing right now?
Roaming #christmascats.
I’m missing looking at pictures of Christmas cats with you? I feel cheated on.
I’ll tag you in all the good ones. Prepare to be Christmas cat spammed.
Spam me, baby.
Flying overseas alone wasn’t fun. Spending Christmas without Jessie was even less fun . . . thank goodness for Santa cat spam.
It was strange that I couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing with her family. I wanted to skip work and fly to Georgia just to see. Were they the type to stay inside and play games in their flannel pajamas? Or did they go outside and have snowball fights and get knee-deep in sledding? I suddenly thought of my dad and what he and I would have done. He always steered for snow angels in Central Park. One eye moistened suddenly. I quickly swiped a finger across the wetness and moved on with my thoughts.
But it was only a minute until I was imagining Jessie and I being together-together—and not where the will was involved. It made me proud. To know that I possibly had something long-term with a girl who might actually care about me the way I did her. Dad would be proud . . . and ah crap, another tear formed in the corner of my other eye. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, wiping the sprinkle with the back of my hand, and went off to do what I came here to do. Business.
As the next week came, and I had toured Bangkok’s crystalline beaches and later Milan’s historical city, I couldn’t help but imagine all the wanderlust places I wanted to take Jessie to. I thought about it in the worst way, even as I ventured into Italy’s jewelry shops to buy her a new bracelet to replace that old one she wore. I ended up with a dainty gold chain in my pocket, one I thought she’d like.
As I walked back out onto the streets of Milan, newest bracelet trend in my realm, I glanced up at the old town. I could see why lovers came here. The detailed stone buildings suggesting the past, the cafés on cobblestone streets promising the best pizza in town, and windows filled with what would be the next haute fashion. It was clear Milan celebrated all cycles of life; past, present, and future.
Wasn’t that how lovers celebrated their relationship? Giggle about their past, live for the present, plan tediously for the future? I understood the reminiscing and the living, but why would anybody plan to get a mini-van? Ahem, I speak from experience thank you very much. I’ve lost two buddies to the mini-van.
Okay, so I didn’t really have any experience in this Charles Dickens past, present, future stuff. Gizelle told me. She probably got the idea from one of her Hallmark movies because pregnant Gizelle—currently—did not like to challenge the present. It challenged her, which made her mind fuzzy about past things with Austin, which made Austin not look forward to the future. So you see, it’s a vicious cycle that no one gets out of without casualties. And now you know why I avoided relationships like the plague.
I normally would have never entertained coming to Italy with a woman, but I didn’t care now. I wanted badly to return here with Jessie. It would mean she’d have to take off school again. But there were subs out there looking for jobs. She’d be doing them a favor, right?
“How about Iceland?” I asked her in her small living room apartment the first evening I got home three weeks later. I noticed a hole in the stitching of her new couch and wondered where she’d bought it.
“Sounds lovely,” she said. She was preoccupied warming us some tea at the stove. It was particularly cold tonight and she couldn’t shake her chills, even though her sweater was two inches thick. I told her earlier she didn’t have to meet me at the tarmac when I arrived, but she insisted. I’m glad she did but now she seemed out of it, and she kept twisting at that old strand of yarn around her wrist.
“Let’s go then,” I said. “On a trip.”
“Kendal, I can’t leave. I have to teach.” She paused. “Aren’t you happy staying in one place? You already travel so much.”
“Of course I love staying in one plac
e, but I like to travel too. And I want you to come with me. I think you’ll really like Milan.”
“But I can’t just leave like you can. Couldn’t we at least go in the summer when I’m not working?”
“I suppose.” When she wasn’t looking I sent a text to my secretary to purchase two first class tickets right away, specifically seats 2A and 2B, to Iceland for April. She’d have to take off school for this surprise but I didn’t care. I’d be home from Amsterdam then and I was sure she’d want to spend some time alone. Maybe the Northern lights would still be there. “How about the Bahamas over spring break?”
“Huh?” She looked up from the teapot, steam rising around her face.
“Bahamas?”
“Oh yes, spring break. Bahamas. That sounds fun.” She hadn’t looked up once and her voice trailed off between words.
“Is something wrong, Jessie?”
“No.” She lied. I know, because her voice was much higher. “I’m good. Promise. Just a long day.”
I didn’t quite believe her, but I started typing on my phone again anyways.
I repeated my last text to my secretary only this time, told her to book another set of first-class tickets to the Bahamas over spring break. I had no clue when spring break was, but I trusted she could figure it out.
“Settled then. Bahamas . . .” and Iceland, I thought riskily . . . “just the two of us . . . you think you can handle that?”
She set my mug on her square, Ikea coffee table and settled next to me on the couch. “Hmm, what sort of game are we going to play there? I’ll only be wearing my bikini most the time, so yes and no is out. There won’t be much to take off.” She looked deep in thought.
I slid closer to her and cupped her cheeks. I watched her for a second to take in her large brown eyes. I’d missed them so damn much. Then, before she could move, I leaned in and slowly slid my tongue around her ear. “Bubblegum,” I whispered. “We’ll be playing a game with our tongues.”
