“Will, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at some bar watching some scantily clad woman perform a last dance with a rose between her teeth and a few drinks in your hands?” I asked Will, wondering how he ended up at the same dark lonely pool I did on the same night two days before his wedding to a woman I didn’t know.
“Well, Nikki Jay,” Will said, backing away from me on heels teetering close to the pool’s edge. Nikki Jay was a nickname he gave me years ago, short for Nikki Jackson. He’s the only one who had ever called me Nikki Jay. More butterflies took off in my stomach. “You know I’ve never been one for roses and scantily clad women. I’m more of a beer in a can by a pool kind of guy. Besides, I figured you’d be hanging out with Liza, and when you two get together, you usually end up naked in this pool. So I thought I’d get lucky and swing by.” I could see a smirk crossing his face even in the low light of the pool. Or maybe I just imagined his beautiful grin melting my heart as it crept from one side of his mouth to the other.
“Didn’t you just say you’re not one for scantily clad women, Will?”
“Naked isn’t scant, Nikki Jay. It’s naked. Where is your man tonight, Nik?” Will asked me with a curiosity which told me to back away, and go home to my man, and to my children, and stay as far away from getting naked and in the pool as I possibly could.
“Chris and the kids are at my dad’s house. And I don’t think I’ll be getting in any pool tonight, Will. I didn’t bring my bathing suit,” I said as I took a step back and almost stumbled on a tree root sticking above ground. “Besides, Liza told me it’s chlorine water now, not salt water. If I come half way across the country to swim, it will be in salt water. I think it’s best I leave soon anyway. I’m feeling a little…uncomfortable.” I couldn’t believe I had just said it out loud. Uncomfortable? Was that what I felt? Or was a better word vulnerable? Or maybe it was questionable. I was feeling all those things because a part of me was angry at Will for suggesting we get naked and in the pool. And part of me was angry because I really wanted to get naked in the pool with Will. But I also knew what I wanted was to be eighteen again. I didn’t want to be a married woman in a pool with an old boyfriend who was about to be married. I didn’t want to be there with a new gate and moss all over the fence and chlorinated water with over grown trees and bushes that hadn’t seen a set of trimming shears in many years. I didn’t want to accept life moving on too. Had moved on rather. I could accept I was older and married with children, but I expected the world around me to stand still and wait for me to be ready for growth and change. It turns out life doesn’t wait for us to be ready.
I walked over to Liza about the same time our other oldest and dearest friend walked up to the pool. We grew up with Amy at our side, car dancing with Liza and me. Car dancing was an old favorite when there was nothing else to do. When we weren’t sneaking into the pool, we were cruising along the three miles of beaches dancing in the car, on top of the car, and outside of the car. It was a pastime favorite of the Deltaville country folk. The three of us walked down the aisle together to get our diplomas, and then Amy split to Mexico for a few years to study ancient Maya lands and Latin men. I think she studied mixed drinks and bartenders more than anything, though. She came back with four tattoos, several piercings, and a baby. The baby was about ten or twelve years old, and Amy would tell anyone who would listen that men are disposable. She was the best person to be with Liza right then. I think she could probably tell Liza all she wanted to hear about how horrible men were and how she didn’t need them. Amy was the person who introduced me to something called The Bullet. I never tried one because she said she couldn’t orgasm without one when she was with a man, but she also said because of it, she would never need a man. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be there in my life. I loved being with my husband, and I liked that he could bring me to orgasm without ammunition.
“Nikki Jackson Ford! How the hell are ya, girl?” Amy yelled at the top of her lungs as if we owned all the houses on the street. The mom in me immediately thought of all the sleeping children in those homes who were just woken by the strident sound of Amy’s voice. Then I remembered most of the houses were empty much of the year. This time of year there were probably just the retired locals and the vacationing grandparents in town. It would still be a few weeks before summer and before the accompanying summer tenants hit Deltaville. And if my memory served correctly, most of the year round residents on this street wouldn’t hear a bomb if it went off in their own backyard. I remember hearing the sounds of TV news coming from all those houses in the summer time growing up. We’d all laugh at how we didn’t have to watch the news; all we had to do was walk down the street to hear it. Once the news was over, the street was silent; except for the giggling and splashing down at the pool of course.
“Amy!” I said, walking over to hug her. “How are you? How is Adelaide? What grade is she in now? I haven’t seen her in what seems like years, she must be close to middle school by now.”
“Addy is in eighth grade. She starts high school next year. I can’t believe it myself most days. She’s a handful. She’s not into boys, thank the Lord, but she does have a girlfriend who hangs around a lot,” Amy winked at me. “I wonder sometimes if they aren’t, you know, getting to know each other a little better. There’s been rumors about this friend being gay, but I just don’t know. I want Addy to grow up not depending on men, but I’m not sure if I want her sleeping with women either. Shit, we are more whack than most men are.” Amy seemed to almost laugh off this new revelation about her daughter. Knowing Amy has experimented with a few women herself, I knew she’d be open minded about Adelaide dating a girl. I just wondered about the family she had there in the little Southern town.
Instead of saying what I was thinking, I simply stated, “Well, she’s too young to date anyone right now, so you can’t worry about who she may or may not pick for her future. She’ll be fine. Just don’t tell her men and women are disposable; she’s got to be open to loving someone,” I said with a smile. We all need someone to love. Though for some, one person is often too much.
“Nikki. With all the right things to say. She’s too young. Don’t worry. Do right by her. How’d you get so smart anyway, Nikki?” It was Liza who spoke this time, and she was oozing sarcasm. I felt like I was stepping out of my boundaries with my old friends, and I was about to be called out on it. But Liza continued, “Amy, I know men are not disposable. I think you really want to find someone to love, but you spend so much time jumping away from relationships, you wouldn’t know a good guy if he bit you, because you’d be running from him after you put your bullet to work.” I could tell Liza was sobering up because her southern slurs were starting to diminish, but I could also see an argument coming on.
“Men are disposable, Liza. When you learn that, I won’t have to listen to you cry for months on end over a loser who led you to believe he was your knight in shining armor when all along he was just a silly pirate. And I don’t need a man for sex, that’s exactly what the bullet is for. Men are no good at it anyway. It really takes a woman to show a woman how to feel good. But women are too emotional for me, so for me, it takes a little steel. I’m not going to argue with you, Liza, you are too emotional for me, and I’m sure you started drinking early this morning, so there’s no reasoning with you anyway.” Amy walked away.
Will came over at the most inopportune time. “Did I hear someone talking about doing some girl on girl action over here? Now this is the bachelor party of my dreams. Maybe Nikki and I can watch from the pool where we can get reacquainted. Whaddya say, Nik? For old time’s sake, the two of us in the pool, and to celebrate all of us moving on, maybe the two lesbos over there can get it on.”
“Will, they are not lesbians. One doesn’t like men. One hates men. But it doesn’t make them lesbians. It makes them angry at men. If you try having a bachelor party with them, it may end in you hanging from your balls on the light pole. And I’m not getting naked in the pool with you. I am m
arried. You are about to be married. I’m going home. Now. Before anything crazier happens here. Maybe you all need to think outside this town, put the bottles down, and look at your lives here. Will, you are to be married. What would Rebecca think if she knew you were out here hitting on your old girlfriend? Don’t make me regret coming home. Now, I’m going down to my dad’s house. We are taking the girls to Williamsburg tomorrow. I will see you all in two days.” I gave Amy and Liza hugs, whispered “I love you” to them both, and glared at Will for a moment, then smiled. I had to smile. At least I hoped it came off as a warning glare and not a look which said, “Never mind, take me here and now, dear old soon to be married boyfriend. Let us pretend we are not who we say we are and lose ourselves in one another for the next few hours before our real lives call us back.” My warning glare and my own thoughts were giving me mixed signals. I grabbed Will’s hand, in an effort to hold on to something, even insanity, reached up, kissed his cheek, and told him I loved him before walking back to Liza’s house for my sister’s car.
Stingray Bay Hills Road has a speed bump every few hundred feet. I think the speed bumps were the only hills around. As a kid on a bicycle they were a blast. We’d try to get our speed up and jump them. I still had scars on my knees from falling off my bike onto those speed bumps and the gravel surrounding them. As a driver, the speed bumps were just a huge pain in the ass. You can’t go fast enough to actually drive over them without bottoming out because they are so tall and so close together, and when you go slow enough to manage them, they hit so hard your head practically hits the ceiling of the car. It takes about fifteen minutes to drive the mile long bumpy stretch. I could walk it faster. I remember spinning out of Will’s driveway a few times, wishing I could speed away in anger, only to have to come to an almost complete stop before each massive bump in the road. I couldn’t imagine living in Stingray Bay Hills and ever being late. I was sure I’d lose my transmission trying to get anywhere on time, and then I’d be left stranded without a car anyway.
It took me almost twenty minutes to drive the few miles to my father’s house. When I got close, I ended up in the neighbors’ driveway because my father’s driveway was so overgrown with grass and weeds, I couldn’t see it in the dark. It was only when I drove past the fence post on the neighbor’s property line, I knew I had passed Dad’s driveway. I guess some things change and grow and some things don’t change. The chlorine in the salt water pool really bothered me, as did the weed ridden driveway, but when I saw everyone, I really felt blessed to be away most of the year. It was always nice to come home. I wouldn’t want to have a reason to not go there and never return, but each time I returned, it was all a little older, and I was further reminded I was better off not living there.
I left Natalie’s car on the grass still showing a bit of gravel underneath. I was sure it was where the drive way once was. I yelled a little “Fuck!” when I ran into a spider web walking to the house. As soon as the expletive came out, I saw a little orange glow coming from where I remembered a chair once sitting on Dad’s deck.
“Did the spider getcha? She builds ‘em big, that spider does,” Dad said to me, puffing on his cigarette. I should have known he’d be sitting outside in the dark. It’s how he always greeted me when I was growing up. I would only know it was him when I saw the glow from his cigarette.
“I don’t know how you still live in the middle of the woods, Dad. This is a little too much nature for me. Don’t you have motion lights on the garage? I couldn’t see the driveway and… shit, do you think she’s in my hair?” I suddenly put my hand on my head, feeling for what I just knew would be a big hairy spider with a million little spider babies on her back. I was not sure if those wolf spiders built such large webs, but out there in the woods, a hairy baby-carrying momma wolf spider was always what I imagined. And now she’d be in my bed. If not in my bed, then in my dreams. And when I was dreaming of a spider, I may as well have been sleeping with her too. There is a little eight year old girl who still lives somewhere inside me, and she hoards this memory of a giant black widow coming to get her while she sleeps. It’s a memory I have from childhood. When I was about eight years old, my father caught a massive black widow spider and put her in a jar in the kitchen window. That night I had a dream. I knew it was just a dream, but I thought I was lucky because she was so large she couldn’t fit down the hall to get to my room. Otherwise, the little eight year old girl I used to be may have become spider food instead of the mom and wife she became. Inside me there is a small child who is dwarfed by the red hourglass spot on the spider’s belly. Inside me is also a little girl who can’t seem to remember she is bigger than the spiders. I fear any and all spiders, especially if I have walked into one’s web.
“Look up at those stars, Nikki. You can’t get sky views like this in Boulder. Do ya’ll even have stars out there?” Dad was laughing at me. He grew up in Colorado and knew just how vast the skies are. Sure, we have city light pollution, but with very few trees, we can see for miles and miles.
“Yes, Daddy, we have stars. And we can see them each night. Emily even has a little telescope of her own. What we don’t have are huge spider webs sitting in the middle of a huge pocket of air, seemingly connected to nothing. Is it black widow season? Do I need to worry about those yet?” I was sure Daddy could hear my concern.
“They’re out there, honey, but no, you don’t have to worry about them. They don’t build webs up high. Only Charlotte builds them that high up. Check the girls’ hair for ticks each night. You’ll be fine. Go to bed. I’m sure Chris is up waiting for you to get home.” Dad took one last puff of his cigarette, and I could see the red glow flickering and falling to the deck as he pressed and rolled the remainder between his fingers until it was out.
“’Night, Daddy. I’m going to check on the girls and get some sleep.” I walked away, aware of every patch of air around me. I knew Charlotte was waiting, and she was probably pissed because I had ruined her web.
I found Chris on the couch with his laptop in his lap reading some research papers. He told me the girls missed me but were worn out; they were both asleep before he finished reading their second book. Then he tossed me a sheet of smiley face stickers and told me he’d see me in the room in a few minutes. I crept into the room my daughters were sharing; Bella in a crib and Emily lying sideways in a twin bed with her feet hanging off the front side. I took a purple and a pink sticker from the sticker sheet Chris gave me, placed one sticker on each of Emily’s hands, and then straightened her out, tucked her in, and kissed her soft cheek. Bella didn’t need a sticker to know I checked on her after she was asleep, but I found her blanket in her crib, and I tucked her in the best I could. I still had to brush my teeth and get dressed for bed, so Chris beat me to our room. But when I finally made it, he was eager to hear all about Liza and her love crusade. Well, eager is not the really the word. He just wanted to laugh at her and her troubles. I guess he could tell she wasn’t quite sober earlier in the evening after all. Being a typical man, he didn’t want the details, just the funny highlights.
“Has the prince returned to Love Lorn Liza?” He asked in a fake British voice with a chuckle.
“No, she’s smitten with the joker and doesn’t seem to get his funny costume gives him not royalty, nor loyalty. She thinks now he wants to be a pirate. And a pirate is not someone who wants to settle down with just one wench. Right, me love?” I crawled into bed next to Chris and noticed he wasn’t wearing boxers. Usually the lack of clothing in bed meant he was ready for our own business. And of course asking about my love sick friend was his way of showing he cared about me and could be emotionally attached to me as well as physically in need of me. It’s a man’s way of foreplay. We were in my childhood bedroom, so odd, but even if quick and quiet, I’d take it when I could get it.
“Well, Nikki, my dear, you can’t worry your pretty little head with all of this prince pirate nonsense. What you need to worry about it is that pretty little neck of yours.”
Chris started to kiss my neck. His touch was so soft and gentle. We have both always loved the energy we get from sex in taboo places; like my childhood bedroom at my father’s house or the cab of his truck on the side of a mountain road on the way home from a ski trip where we had a beautiful hotel room with a huge bed and huge bathtub in which to enjoy each other over and over again, but chose the side of the road as well. The naughty sex on the side of the road was so much more pulsating than any sex we had in the hotel. And sex at someone else’s house was always exciting. His kisses worked their way down to my breasts. They arose to the occasion rather quickly. He lingered there for a few moments and then moved south. He really had my attention then. For the first time since arriving in Virginia, I felt myself truly relax. I moved my hand out to him and rubbed his back. Then I slowly felt his back turn into the top of his head as his mouth found my stomach. I flinched when he tickled my side with the bit of scruff growing on his face. He was tender and slow, and I felt as if I was sinking into the mattress with each exhale. The tenderness quickly turned to rapid lust when I felt his tongue heating me up, and with a few quick flicks, I gasped so loud I grabbed the pillow from under my head and put it over my face. The taboo of sex at a parent’s house had so much to do with noise levels, and there was no room for squeals of pleasure. I knew what was coming next, so I had to prepare my loud mouth with some sound insulation. The rhythm of his tongue grew faster and faster, and I could hear one or two moans coming from below. I felt him throbbing against my leg. He wanted in, and he wanted in badly. With my back arched, pillow over my head and my breath held, he used two fingers and a fantastically talented tongue to bring me to a meadow of flowers in sunshine. A meadow, where behind my closed eyes, I was eighteen with Will’s face touching mine. I’m not sure why I had visions in my head during sex, but this time, as the breath was released from my lungs and blood rushed through my body, visons filled my head. As my muscles contracted and released several times rapidly in a matter of about sixty seconds, I could see hills, green grass, white puffy clouds, and flowers behind my eyes. And Will. I sighed, “Oh My God!” into my pillow and felt my wonderful, loving husband suck juices from me once more before he brought his mouth back to mine and slid right into my meadow scene. When I opened my eyes, the flowers were gone. Chris was with me instead of Will, and the orgasm I just had was still vibrating through my body, and the thrust of my husband sent me to an oblivion I have wanted to feel for so long. I was having a connection with my husband in a moment important to no one but us. He moved fast, whispered a few short moans, then said, “Oh, God, Nikki,” thrust once more and stopped. There we were hip to hip, him pulsing and shooting stars into the night. We were both still, and for a few seconds our bodies were so in tune, our throbbing became one. Then he collapsed on top of me, whispered something about great into my ear and laughed quietly.
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