After a nice hot but quick soapy shower, I flopped naked on my bed. I was too damned tired to get dressed, too tired to slide under the sheets. I closed my eyes and waited for the sweet pull of sleep. I slid into that half-awake state where you begin dreaming but are fully aware that what you’re seeing is a dream. I saw flashes of a pair of hands traveling over my body, caressing and squeezing. I could feel the weight of a man pressing down on me. I felt hard muscle beneath my fingertips. I felt the powerful surge of hips between my thighs and being filled completely. I heard words being whispered in my ear, but could only make out one—“Precious”, Vance’s pet name for me. It shocked me so completely, I sat up with a gasp. Tears rapidly filled my eyes and my nose stung as I was suddenly assaulted by memories of Vance and me together. I hadn’t had any dreams of him in well over a year and wasn’t prepared for this one. I could only think that since James was the first person I’d had sex with since him, it triggered something in my mind.
I felt that old, familiar weight in my chest. He was gone and nothing was going to change that. I had accepted that reality a long time ago, so I was frustrated that those emotions were back. Was I going to feel this way each time I slept with someone new? Was it some kind of guilt that was bringing this on? I didn’t feel guilty at all as James and I were having sex. If I were honest, Vance was the furthest thing from my mind. I didn’t feel any stabs afterward, either. So, was it really guilt or something deeper?
Accepting that my mind was too busy mulling over these perplexing feelings and that sleep was now a far-away lover I wouldn’t meet for at least a few hours, I got out of bed. I pulled a short sleepshirt out of my dresser and threw it over my head. I had one solution for this situation. Cookies. Fortunately, there was a tray of Oreo Thins (mint flavored, of course) in my pantry.
I went to the kitchen, still lost in my thoughts. I was pulled into memories of my life with Vance as I poured a glass of milk and grabbed the package of cookies. Then I found myself wandering to Vance’s office. It stunned me to realize that I still thought of it that way--Vance’s office, Vance’s desk, Vance’s computer. I sat at the desk and looked around. All of his stuff was still there. I’d never really had the urge to erase his touch from the room, although I’d long ago packed up his clothes and other belongings from around the house and donated them to charity. I did allow myself one photograph of the two of us together to remain in the living room--our wedding photo. I’d never taken a moment to think if that, or keeping his office unchanged, had any significance to it. I didn’t know if I was ready at that time to think about it either.
I powered up the computer and clicked open the file containing all of our photographs. We had taken so many in the brief time we were together. There were snapshots of us with the guys on various outings we had taken. Pictures of us in front of one landmark or another on the many short weekend trips we’d taken. Selfies of us, a few of us when we were lying in bed together. I slowly clicked through all of them, carefully studying each one. The first year of our marriage had been pure magic. I seriously doubted I’d ever have that kind of love again. It just wasn’t possible.
Then there were the few photos that Miriam had taken while he was sick. She’d needed to have a sense of normalcy during that time so she sometimes had acted like nothing was wrong. There were pictures of me sitting next to him with my arms looped around his neck as we both smiled for the camera, pictures I had taken of her sitting by his bedside, both smiling as if the days we’d had weren’t numbered, and pictures of me curled up next to him on the bed, both of us asleep. It was still painful to see him so gaunt and hollow looking, ravaged by that terrible disease. Cancer. What a dirty word.
I smiled, cried, and chuckled as I clicked through all of them. Maybe all I needed was a little visit in my head to that part of my past. It had been awhile since I’d been there, and these new developments may have just reminded me that I missed him. After all, it wasn’t as if I were starting some kind of relationship. I’d just had a quick, but decidedly satisfying fuck. It wasn’t a momentous or earth-shattering change in my life. I just finally got laid. Under the circumstances, I even think Vance would have approved. He had told me he wanted me to go on to live my life and eventually fall in love again. That wasn’t likely to happen if I didn’t get out there and take a taste of what was around me.
I leaned back in the chair, still chomping on cookies as I put the file on slideshow and watched them all slowly fade in and out on the screen. After about five minutes of my second walk through the past, my mobile phone rang. I got up to get it from the kitchen where’d I’d left it when I got home. I looked at the display. Justin was calling. I picked up slightly breathless as I walked back to Vance’s office.
“Hey, gorgeous. How are you?” I asked, trying to sound normal. There was only a little quaver in my voice, but of course, he noticed.
“Hey Peaches. What’s wrong? You told me you were going to call me when you got home, but you didn’t. Now I call you and you don’t sound so good. Did something happen while you were gone?”
“No, no. I had a good time. I just had a dream about Vance that’s kind of put a hitch in my step,” I said as I sat back down at the computer. I hit pause on the slideshow. It stopped on one of our selfies in bed. He was holding the camera above us, and I was cuddled up on his bare chest, the sheet pulled up to cover everything else but my shoulders and head. We were both laughing. I sighed and turned off the monitor.
“Do you need to talk about it? I’m always here for you, you know that,” he said sympathetically.
“No, I think I’m okay. It’s just been a long time since I dreamed of him and it was rather… vivid. I guess it will happen sometimes.”
“I understand. I still have dreams about him too, sometimes, and it can knock me for a loop. All we can do is just push it aside and march forward.”
“I don’t think pushing it aside is the right answer, otherwise it will just come back. So, I embraced the feelings and started looking at our old photos. It’s made me feel wistful and somewhat sad, but I guess I just needed to visit him. There’s no way to do that without feeling a little bit of that loss,” I said thoughtfully.
“Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. I’ve never allowed myself the time to dwell on it. It’s over, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” I sighed then changed the subject. “So, how did you manage while I was away? I hear you talking so I can only assume you lived through my absence.”
“Your eventual return was the only thing that kept me going,” he said with a chuckle.
“Well, return I did so you are assured continued existence until the next time I leave,” I teased. “What are you doing tomorrow? Do you want to get together?”
“Of course I do, Peaches. I haven’t seen you in days. Why don’t we grab dinner and a movie tomorrow night?”
If I’d been thinking about it, I would have suggested we have lunch and tried to keep it from any date-like activity until we had a chance to talk about those kisses. But, it was Justin and I never second-guessed our relationship. I also wasn’t in a hurry to analyze any potential change in our relationship. Tonight I was already on overload.
“Great. I’ll buy the popcorn,” I said.
“You always say that but you never do.” He laughed.
“That’s because you never let me.”
“Details, Peaches. Details.”
“Alright you infuriating beast, I’m hanging up now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I said, blowing him a kiss and then hitting the red button on my phone’s display before he could say another word.
I looked at the dark computer monitor and wondered if I should resume viewing the slideshow. I ultimately decided against it. There was a fine line between visiting the past and dwelling on it. I turned it on and exited the picture viewer, then powered the machine back down. Wiping cookie crumbs off the surface of the desk, I picked up my glass and headed back to the kitchen. I dropped the empty glass into the dishwas
her, then washed my hands.
I returned to my bedroom and tried to get comfortable again. Vance still hovered at the edge of my consciousness, but I didn’t indulge in more thoughts about our past. I mentally hugged him and then closed the door on the memories. My phone rang in the kitchen where I’d once again left it, but I didn’t get up to see who was calling. If it was important, they’d leave a message.
I closed my eyes and waited for the sandman to come.
Four
Tuesday morning found me doing the usual Monday things I did--tidying up, laundry, and scrubbing the toilet. Oh, the joy of real life. I could have hired a cleaning service, but it felt like a horrible indulgence when I didn’t have a job and consequently had lots of time on my hands. As such, Mr. Clean and I had a standing date in the bathroom at the beginning of each week.
By eleven o’clock I was done with my chores and at a loss for what to do with myself. I could finish reading the novel I began on the trip, but I felt too fidgety to concentrate on the story. I really needed to find something to do for work. I didn’t enjoy being idle and with my friends all off at their jobs, I didn’t have much to do with my days. More and more, I grew dissatisfied with being a lady of leisure. No longer would a good book sustain me through the quiet days. I needed something more. I didn’t know what to do, but I was getting to the point where’d I’d take a simple waitress job just to have something.
I drifted back to Vance’s office and took another look around. Was it time to pack everything up and redecorate the office to something more of my taste? I didn’t know. If I’d allowed myself a moment of deeper introspection, I would have realized that not only was I not interested in changing things, I really wanted to hold on to this last piece of him. It didn’t occur to me that it might be similar to maintaining a shrine to him. Instead, I closed the door and resolved to think about it another day.
I eventually settled in the living room to think over my future. I could go to law school, I thought. At one time, that had been my aim, but after finishing my Bachelor’s degree, I’d decided I couldn’t get myself into deeper debt by taking on more student loans. Consequently, I’d done the next best thing and became a paralegal. I’d loved the law, and it gave me the opportunity to do a lot of what I considered ‘lawyerly’ things: legal research, drafting briefs, advising clients. It was a great career, but I no longer felt a passion for it. Problem was, I didn’t feel a real passion for anything. I had regained my desire to be among the living after Vance died, but I didn’t know how I wanted to live. It was so frustrating and the more I thought about it, the more impatient I became with myself. So, after hours of wracking my brain for some kind of idea, I gave up and did the only thing I could think of. I went shopping.
After a few hours of retail therapy where I ended up buying nothing but some new bath products, I felt a little bit better. I was still a little restless, but there was nothing to be done for it. On the way home, an idea occurred to me. UCLA had an extension program. I could just sign up for classes that sparked my interest. At least I would be doing something with my time. As soon as I got home, I ran to the computer and looked up their website. I perused through the programs and one in particular caught my eye—Communications, Media, and Fundraising. I had good people skills and the idea of working for a charity was also appealing. I could potentially work for one who raised funds for cancer research. I noticed that there was an actual certificate program I could enroll in online. The first class was being offered for the summer session, so I quickly sent off an email to the Certificate Advisor listed on their website inquiring as to the date classes would begin. I felt energized at this potential goal. Now I needed to have a mini celebration. More cookies? As I was contemplating how to reward myself, my phone rang again. I assumed it was Justin calling to confirm our plans for the evening, so I picked it up without looking at the screen.
“Hey, sexy pants! We on for this evening?” I mockingly purred into the phone.
A deep, familiar voice carried over the line. “That all depends on what you have in mind, Kitten.”
I closed my eyes and wished the ground could swallow me up. It wasn’t that I minded hearing from James; in fact, I was pleased to hear from him so soon after the weekend, but now I was most likely going to have to explain who sexy pants was since there was no way I could tell it was him calling. He’d never given me his number. It was an awkward idea to say the least.
“Hello, James,” I said. “It’s nice to hear from you, but don’t call me Kitten.”
“It must be nice if you’re offering me a date as soon as you answer the phone,” he said laughingly.
“Can we just forget it and start over?” I suggested.
He laughed out loud and said, “That would rob me of far too much fun teasing you, so no. I’m afraid not.” His chuckling subsided and he asked, “Is this a bad time for you?”
“Actually no. I have some plans later but--,”
“Obviously,” he drawled.
I ignored him and continued on, “right now I’m not doing a thing other than considering murdering some Oreos. And now you.”
He laughed again. “Come on, Kitten. I have to get under your skin somehow. Otherwise you might forget about me. I can’t have that because I’m nowhere near done with you.”
“There are better ways to get under my skin, James.” I laughed.
“Oh, I know, but I believe in taking my time. Warming you up so you’re ready for it when I hit you with the really good stuff.”
“You mean the other night wasn’t the good stuff?” I teased.
“Baby, you don’t even know the half of it. That too, was just a little taste.”
“Listen to you. Your mouth is making promises your body might not be able to keep,” I challenged as I walked into the living room and flopped on the couch.
“Don’t you worry about that, Mimi. I always deliver. Always,” he promised.
“Then I’ll remember to keep score,” I said. “So, what are you up to? Aside from ‘warming me up’, I mean.”
“I’m just relaxing after today’s training exercises and thinking about you. You disappeared before I could say goodbye yesterday.”
“You could have, if you’d been around. Where were you anyway?” I asked.
“I was still crashed out in one of the bedrooms dreaming of a certain hot blonde. Imagine my disappointment when I woke up next to Pumpkin.”
I giggled. “Well, at least you didn’t mistake him for me. That would have been awkward.”
“And traumatic,” he added. “Pumpkin is decidedly lacking in the curves department. I also like my bedmates to be lacking in the extra equipment department as well.”
I laughed. “Come on now, you didn’t really sleep next to Pumpkin, did you?”
“Fuck, no. I went to the upper deck and passed out on one of the lounge chairs. If I ever woke up to Pumpkin’s ugly ass next to me in bed, I’d end up with PTSD.”
“Oh James, that’s just so wrong!” I said, but I couldn’t keep the laughter out of my voice.
He snickered for a minute before asking, “So do you have any plans for the weekend, Mimi?”
“Not yet, I don’t,” I responded.
“I’d like to take you out on a real date,” he said. “What do you say?”
“I say yes.” I grinned to myself as I turned and reclined on the sofa, tapping the toes of my shoes together like an eager teenager talking to her crush.
“Great. I’ll make arrangements to pick you up Saturday. I’ll let you know the time in the next day or so. Pack an overnight bag. You know, just in case.” He said, his voice full of suggestion and promise.
“There you go again with that confidence.”
“You’ll find I have it in abundance, Kitten,” he drawled. “I have to get going, but I’ll give you a call with all the details.”
“Good. I’ll be looking forward to it,” I said. “Take care, James.”
I thought I heard him blow me a kiss bef
ore the line went dead. The guy may have been a little rough around the edges, but for some reason he appealed to me. I smiled to myself. If nothing else, James was fun to be around. And sexy.
A few hours later, my phone rang again. I was fairly sure it was Justin this time, but I checked the screen to make certain. Sure enough, it was him. I suggested we meet at a restaurant half way between his house and mine, but he insisted on picking me up at my house. So, an hour later I opened the door to him holding a small bouquet of pink roses and wearing a sexy grin. I was suddenly flustered all over again.
“Hello, Peaches,” he said in his low, gravelly voice while holding the bouquet out to me. A little thrill traveled up my spine as his eyes roamed over my body. He was dressed up for him, wearing a blue button down shirt with a nice pair of jeans and what appeared to be new boots. I hadn’t dressed with any special care, I was just wearing a simple light blue sundress with a pair of flat sandals. Nevertheless, he eyed me with hunger. When he looked back up at me, they were sparkling with mischief.
“Hi, Justin,” I said back, sounding slightly breathless and unsure. “Come on in. Let me put these in some water, and then we can go.”
He followed me to the kitchen where I filled a cut-glass vase with some water, then proceeded to arrange the flowers so that they sat just so. I felt nervous which perplexed me since I’d known Justin for a few years and spent time with him at least once a week. Why should a couple of little kisses change how I felt around him? We’d always felt so comfortable with each other. Now that things might be moving in a different direction, I was suddenly not comfortable and confused.
After I finished dawdling with the flowers while trying to sort out my conflicted emotions, I turned to him and smiled.
“I’m suppose I’m ready. Where are we going for dinner?” I asked.
“How does Mexican food sound to you? We could go to Garcia’s. Maybe have a few margaritas while we’re at it.”
A big, fat margarita sounded fabulous to me. Perhaps it would help steady my sudden case of nerves.
Fighting Perfection (The Perfection Series Book 2) Page 6
