by Nesly Clerge
“It’s not that. What I meant was that people are glancing at us. Some of them are staring.”
Luke nodded. “I noticed. Who can blame them? You’re a stunning woman.”
Chelsea offered him a small smile. “Thanks, but I don’t think that’s what has their attention. I thought these days, no one cared if people of different races were together, or at least had the courtesy to pretend not to.”
“It was forbidden in so many segments of society for so long, I suppose the idea is still awkward or disquieting for a number of people. Of course, there are some cultural differences, but certainly not so great that they can’t be dealt with, if two people know they’re right for each other.”
Chelsea chewed on her bottom lip then said, “So you’re confident mixed relationships do work?”
Luke studied her for a moment. “There’s evidence they do, and have throughout history. Not here, perhaps, but attitudes have shifted, just faster in some locations than others. What about you, Chelsea? Do you believe you could ignore those who disapproved? For example, what about the people in here who are watching us?”
Chelsea touched his arm. “They don’t know how happy I am when I’m with you, or how unhappy I am when I’m not.” She removed her hand and took a sip of wine. “Luke, have you ever been involved with a—I’m not sure how to say it. I don’t want to sound ignorant.”
Luke smiled. “Have I ever been with a woman who isn’t black?” Chelsea nodded. “I haven’t. What about you?”
Chelsea shook her head. “It just never happened. I never had a reason to give it much thought.”
“And now?”
Chelsea blushed and fiddled with her wine glass. “Maybe.”
“Maybe we should change the subject. Do you mind if I talk about my book and the reviews it’s getting?”
“Safer topics, you mean?”
“Up to you.”
“Better safe, and all that, I suppose.”
Chelsea arrived home shortly after nine twenty. At eleven forty-two, Garrett’s car rumbled into the driveway. This was followed by the front door being opened and closed. Seconds later, she heard him go out the back door. Soon after, she heard a splash.
She went to the window and peeked through the side of the curtains. Garrett was swimming—nude. She’d heard him do this other nights, and she was fairly certain why. Those other nights, she’d always pretended to be asleep when he sneaked into their room and bed, preferring not to let him know she kept track of the time.
He was earlier than usual tonight, far earlier than she’d expected. Thank goodness Luke had needed to leave when he did. Otherwise, she might have not been home when Garrett returned. Not that he would have suspected anything. Not that there was anything to suspect.
At least, not yet.
CHAPTER 54
Garrett climbed the stairs, pausing at Kimberlie’s room. The door was open, the bed empty. He turned the corner and saw that at least one lamp was on in the master bedroom, and hoped Chelsea had fallen asleep with the light on.
She hadn’t. Her pillow was propped behind her back, her knees bent, holding the book she was reading in position on her lap. He cursed under his breath and readied himself for yet another episode of angry, self-pitying accusations from her.
Chelsea looked up. “You must be exhausted.” She put her focus back on the book and turned the page.
“I thought you’d be asleep. You usually are.”
She kept her gaze fixed on the page. “You’re never home this early, so wouldn’t know what I’m usually doing.”
“Point taken. Kim’s studying at Susan’s?”
“She is.”
Garrett went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He turned out the bathroom light and started toward his side of the bed.
Chelsea said, “I meant to tell you to leave the light on in there.” She went into the bathroom and closed the door.
Whatever she was doing to shape up was starting to make a difference. Not enough to his liking yet, but enough to notice. And there was something about her. He couldn’t identify it, but there was definitely something different.
She had on the gown she’d bought for their failed date night. That couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a blatant invitation.
Despite his opinion about her overall appearance, despite the sexual gymnastics he’d engaged in earlier that evening, he had an erection. Why not give her a little to make her happy? Put her on her back and maybe it would keep her off his about his hours and all the other things she complained about.
The stiffness between his legs demanded attention. Any port in a storm, as the saying went.
Chelsea returned to bed, slid under the covers and picked up her book. Garrett moved next to her. He took the book from her hands and placed it on the nightstand.
“Garrett?”
He wiggled his eyebrows at her and turned off the lamp. His hands groped her breasts—one squeeze, two. His mouth found a nipple through the sheer fabric—one quick pull and release. He raised her gown to her hips, used his fingers to feel between her legs. “Not wet yet? I’ll fix that.” He put his fingers into his mouth then rubbed them against the tip of his erection, pushed his way inside her and began to thrust, unaware of the grimace on her face.
I could be anyone, Chelsea thought. She squeezed her eyes shut and played back what happened when Luke had walked her to her car. How he’d held her face in his hands and looked into her eyes with tenderness that made her ache. How he’d kissed her forehead, her cheekbones, her chin. Whispered her name before putting his mouth on hers, gently at first. When she’d responded, his kisses had grown more passionate. As though she was his next breath, and the next. Luke had run his hands from her hips to just on the sides of her breasts, but went no further. Kissing her in a way that made her lightheaded, like the first time a boy French kissed her when she was sixteen. Luke had moaned when she sucked on his tongue and ran her nails lightly up his back as their bodies pressed together.
She imagined Luke’s lips moving to her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, trailing down her abdomen, and then between her legs. Chelsea kept the image going. Imagined it was Luke moving inside of her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, and was louder than ever before when her orgasm happened moments later.
Garrett thrust harder and faster. “Oh, yeah, baby, yeah. I’m. Al … most. Oh, yeah!” He collapsed on top of her then rolled off and went into the bathroom.
To wash me off, Chelsea thought. To rid himself of any trace of my essence.
Chelsea said nothing as Garrett strutted toward the bed and climbed in on his side, turning his back to her.
He was snoring in seconds.
It took longer for her tears to stop.
CHAPTER 55
Three minutes after ten the next morning, Chelsea’s phone rang. She recognized the number, said hello and listened. A number of emotions flashed across her face. “And you’re positive Kimberlie’s okay? … I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
She parked in front of the school, hurried inside, listened to the guidance counselor’s explanation, and pleaded in her best, though rusty, professional manner for her daughter not to be suspended.
Kimberlie sat silent and unmoving in the room, arms folded, head down. Twenty minutes later, she trailed her mother to the car.
“Your father isn’t going to be happy. I’m not happy. Fighting with a boy. I can’t believe you did that. What were you thinking?” They both got into the car. “You look all right. Are you? Did you get hurt?”
“I’m fine. Can we go home now?”
Chelsea put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. They rode home in silence.
“Get a snack, but stay in the kitchen. I’m calling your father. No telling what time he’ll get home.”
“Do you have to tell him?”
“You bet I do. He’ll likely hear about it from someone, and that someone had better be me.”
After two rings, Gar
rett answered. “Calling to praise me for my stellar performance last night?”
Chelsea rolled her eyes. “I’m calling to tell you that your daughter got into a fight at school. With a boy.”
“Is she injured?”
“Thankfully, no. Neither is the boy. I talked the school out of suspending her for more than the rest of the day, but they wouldn’t budge about adding the infraction to her record.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll let her tell you.” She handed the phone to Kimberlie.
“Hi, Dad.“
“Explain.”
“It was his fault. He started calling me names, being really nasty. I told him to stop but he just kept on. He got in my face and kept saying worse and worse things. I had enough so pushed him away. He pushed back, harder. I landed on my a— backside. I was so pissed, I hit him.”
“Where?”
“In the schoolyard.”
“Where on him, Kimberlie?”
“Arm. Then he hit my shoulder with his fist and I slapped his face. We started to wrestle. Then the yard monitor broke it up.”
“I thought you had better self-control than that.”
“You didn’t hear what he said.”
“I don’t give a damn what he said. You touched him first. You never strike anyone except in self-defense or in defense of another person who can’t defend him- or herself. You hear me?”
“Yeah.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that decisions have consequences? This is going on your permanent record. Be damn glad your mother did what she did. Just because your teachers give you all A’s, it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. You’d better hope the people significant to your future and success overlook that you brawled.”
“I earn the A’s. No one gives them to me.”
“Sarcasm? Really, Kimberlie?”
“Sorry. Just sayin’.”
“What the hell are they teaching kids these days? And what the hell is that boy’s family teaching him? Under no circumstances should a man—or boy—ever strike a woman.”
“I guess maybe he thought it was self-defense.”
“He shouldn’t have been taunting you in the first place, but he should have turned his sorry ass around and left you alone. And you should have immediately reported him to the monitor instead of letting it escalate. You sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“Put your mother on.”
Chelsea took the phone. “Go to your room. No phone or computer or any other form of communication the rest of the night.” She held out her hand.
“Aw, Mom. That’s so not fair.”
“Hand your phone over. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”
Kimberlie dug her phone from her purse and placed it in Chelsea’s outstretched hand. Halfway to the stairs, she turned, her eyes filled with tears. “Am I grounded?”
“I’ll think about it.” Chelsea blew out a breath and put her phone to her ear. “I don’t believe she did that.”
“I think I convinced her to never do it again. What punishment did the boy get?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You should have.”
“The last thing I need is a lecture. Will you be coming home early?”
“I can’t.”
“Even after this?”
“Chelsea, I’m not going to go through this every time I—”
“Do whatever, Garrett.”
She ended the call. And thought about texting Luke.
Not a good idea, Chels.
CHAPTER 56
“I hope today is a better one. You know how to behave. Do it.” Chelsea kissed Kimberlie’s cheek and watched her still downcast daughter nod and close the car door behind her.
She kept focused on Kimberlie’s slow steps to the entrance and into the school. Kimberlie really was a good kid. As her mother, it was her responsibility to not let her child off the hook too easily. But she understood how some people can push others to their limit of tolerance. Cause them to do something they might otherwise not have done. Difficult circumstances tended to reveal to people what their limits were. Unfortunately, there was always someone bent on forcing them to that point.
Chelsea’s reverie broke when an impatient parent behind her honked. She waved and pulled onto the drive then turned left, onto the road that led home.
The remainder of the day was ordinary, sedate, until later that afternoon. Kimberlie had to study for an exam overnight at Susan’s house. Garrett had to attend a dinner conference that started at eight and would continue quite late because he had to entertain some out-of-towners. Penelope had a date.
By six o’clock, Chelsea had drafted several text messages of various lengths and intensity to Luke, each time stumbling over what to say, and each time changing her mind and deleting them. It was better to leave it, and him, alone. Let the dust settle. It was the only way for them to see clearly the precipice they stood on.
Despite caution that prodded her, she wanted to believe he felt something real for her. If she was nothing more than a novelty to him, it was best not to encourage him. Or herself. A half hour later, her phone pinged.
Lady of beauty and grace, how are you today?
Relief, fear, desire to be deemed significant flooded her.
I’m alone and lonely, wishing I was with stimulating company.
If you mean that, I’m available.
Toby’s?
What time?
Seven too soon for you?
I’ll strive, challenging as it may be, to wait that long.
Chelsea laughed. See you soon.
She rushed upstairs to primp. For him. Glanced at the bed and recalled how she’d had to substitute the illusion of Luke over the reality of Garrett. How odd that she’d desired her husband for so long, only to not want him when he’d accommodated her. And that was all it was; though, she had no idea why Garrett had suddenly changed his mind after all this time. As much as she’d wanted to be the one to say no, it seemed too risky to give him cause to be suspicious.
She wondered who Garrett had pretended she was.
And wondered if Luke pretended it was she when he made love to his wife.
Neither Chelsea or Luke meant to drink as much as they did. Neither of them had intended to kiss and grope each other in the booth in the dark corner of the dimly lit lounge. Neither did they start the evening with any intention of stumbling to the motel two buildings away from Toby’s.
Nor had they intended to consume each other in what could only be described as a raging torrent of need. Twice. Until both were spent and panting with arms and legs entwined.
Luke stroked her back. “We can’t fall asleep.” He got up and searched. Found his watch under a chair, having cast it off in a flurry of their eagerness to remove anything, no matter how sheer, between them.
He sat next to Chelsea on the bed. Ran a hand from her cheek to the place on her body that had sated them both. “Much as I hate to say it—”
“I know. It would be too easy to stay here all night.”
Luke stood. “I’m going to shower.”
Chelsea extended her hand. “Not alone, I hope.”
CHAPTER 57
Chelsea dragged one of the poolside lounge chairs to the edge of the morning sun. Her phone was next to her, atop the attached small teak table. She sipped her coffee, noting the brew was the same shade as Luke. It took no effort to recall the intimate moments they’d shared the night before. Tender, sweet, sensual, passionate Luke.
She glanced around. The trees lining the perimeter of the yard were high enough, flush enough with leaves. Only a tree cutter, someone in a helicopter, or some annoying, curious neighbor with a drone and too much time on his, or her, hands would see into her backyard. She removed her robe, peeled off her swimsuit, and did the twenty laps naked.
After the last lap, she rested her arms on the side of the pool, relishing the tenderness of her nipples and between her legs.
Luke had demonstrated his thoughtfulness in a number of ways, which included shaving before they met up. No stubble burn on her face to contend with or be entrapped by.
What did he feel about what had happened? Was he as confused as she felt?
She swam to the steps and got out, air-drying unclothed on the chair. A glance at her phone indicated a missed call and a text from Luke.
God, Chelsea, I never meant to compromise you as I did last night. Can you ever forgive me?
We compromised each other. Any forgiveness has to go both ways. But, Luke, I’ve never been “compromised” so well. My body is still humming. Or, perhaps, engaged in a symphony is more accurate.
Woman, what knowing that does to me … However, we’re playing with the proverbial fire.
You need me to say it first, don’t you? Because of how I feel about you, Luke, I will. It can’t happen again.
We both know it. But I feel as though the dungeon door has been slammed shut, enclosing me in icy darkness.
Why don’t we stop texting and talk on the phone?
I can’t hear your voice right now. It would break me.
She wanted to tell him she was naked and waiting, but he was right. Dr. Moore was right, as well. There was too great a chance of destroying a number of lives.
I value our friendship, Luke. So, if you’re still willing to know me, I suppose coffee in broad daylight is the only way.
YES! We’ll stick to coffee and innocent conversation. Sorry, Chelsea, my break is over and I have to get back to work. Coffee next week?
I look forward to it.
Chelsea donned her robe and took her phone and cup inside, aware that her moment of bliss, where genuine affection was guaranteed, was gone. Like a prized seashell carried away by a wave. Leaving her to yearn for its return, which would never happen.
CHAPTER 58
Each night for the next week, Chelsea maintained the pretense of being asleep when Garrett came in during the wee hours of the morning. He’d started coming home even later than usual. Her relief about this was genuine. It allowed more opportunity to replay in her mind, her one and only intimate experience with Luke. And, it prevented Garrett from climbing on top of her again, tainting the memory that would have to last the remainder of her life.
