French Kiss (Novella)

by Duncan, Abbie

  All those nights she had laid alone. Her mind was her playground after all. There was nowhere else for her. In the ‘real’ world, of course, she had plenty to entertain herself with - she didn’t need legs for most of that.

  Those things didn’t involve romance and mystery... the intangible, forbidden element that had eluded her.

  Until now.

  Her nightie hung over her shoulders, cool against her skin and as she brushed her flowing hair, with each long stroke, it rustled and rasped gently against her skin.

  “Maria? Are you ready for bed yet?” her mother’s voice echoed, gentle but insistent.

  Wheeling herself away from the mirror at her dresser, she rolled over to the door and slid back the bolt, the one factor that gave her a smidge of independence as a young woman.

  Taking a deep breath, she fixed her face in its usual pose, satisfied but not ecstatic. Her mother would recognize the change and kick up a stink if she suspected that Maria was up to something.

  It had always been that way, Maria thought as she sat and listened to the rhythmic pounding of her mother’s feet approaching, stair by stair.

  For years, they had been a sad excuse for a family. Her mother alone and clearly needing a man in her life, but unwilling to admit it, and Maria now also needing the kind of companionship that only a man could provide.

  What a pair we are.

  “Hey, mom. How ya doing?”

  Her mother stood at the door, her hand pushing it all the way open until it was as far as it would go - against the cherry blossom-pink wall of her bedroom. It was just another shade of burgundy as far as Maria was concerned.

  She had far too much time on her hands.

  As usual, her mother scanned the room quickly, in a practiced fashion, from one corner to the other like a cat scanning its surroundings for prey.

  As her gaze traveled the room, from Maria’s computer to the diary at her bedside and to the opposite side of the room, she answered.

  “Tired ... real tired, baby girl.”

  Maria watched her, growing a little annoyed at her mother’s insistence to treat her like a prisoner, depriving her of her basic human needs. She of all people should have understood just how much it meant to have someone.

  There was a reckoning coming. That much she was certain of. It would be Cameron or her mother - she would have to choose...

  Cameron would be kept a secret for now, until later when the need arose. They had to meet eventually, in the flesh didn’t they? Would they always be confined to the fantasy world that was Second Life?

  Second Life was wonderful, that much was true. It had given them both the opportunity to explore places they never could have, both physical and emotional places - it had brought them together and would always have its place. She wanted the real thing, eventually though. A real touch ... a real kiss but more importantly, she wanted to see Cameron for who he really was - scars and all, after all, isn’t that what makes us who we are - the experiences and setbacks we have suffered?

  Pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind, she wheeled over to her bed and spun around so that she was positioned just right for her mother to lift her up onto the bed, just as she did every night.

  “You need to take a break, mom. You work too much!”

  Her mother’s face looked haggard in the dim light of the small lamp.

  Maria knew she wouldn’t stop though. What else did she have?

  In many ways, Maria didn’t mind. With her mother out most of the day, working, she would be visiting cities with Cameron and making love to him in the most romantic places in the world - Paris - Rome - Venice - New York.

  Her mother shook her head, “No, I can’t. You know that, sweetheart. Someone’s gotta pay for this house and your treatments.” The stress she placed on ‘your’ was just another part of her mother’s daily reminding of the fact that without her - Maria was helpless.

  It was true, but did she always have to remind her with those subtle, almost undetectable tone changes and choices of words?

  “Yeah, so you keep saying, mom.”

  Maria sighed as she fell back onto the bed, feeling more tired than she thought she had been.

  Her mother’s previously stern face softened as she tucked her daughter in and placed a hand on the side of her face, stroking gently, as she had always done.

  “I’m sorry, honey ... I ...” Maria allowed herself to sink back into the pillow where her eyes began to flutter, sleep beckoning her like a long lost friend. Tonight, she welcomed sleep.

  “I’ll wake you up in the morning, honey.”

  Maria smiled, she didn’t need waking up, nor had she ever. The nightmares did that.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cameron’s hand clasped around hers firmly, his skin smooth and warm against her as they drifted to the top of the Eiffel Tower, not bothering with the elevator this time around. When they landed, the cold steel beneath her bare feet felt good and she laughed, delighted at the rare sensation.

  Cameron guided her to the railing and they stood together, looking out over Paris. The wind was strong and her hair blew in all directions, tickling her face and fanning out around her head, riding the gusts of wind that blew against the two of them, ruffling their clothes which rustled and flapped in the cold air around them.

  She turned to Cameron and caught him staring at her once more, his gaze intent, his green eyes entering her soul effortlessly as the wind flicked the brown locks of hair around his face this way and that.

  She reached out and touched his face, running her fingers over his skin, tracing the lines around his smiling mouth and loving how his cheeks were now apple-red from the cold wind blowing in from the North Sea.

  He took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth, his lips seeking out her flesh, kissing her palm as he held her gaze.

  Somewhere a phone began to ring, but they both ignored it, lost in each other’s eyes.

  “Maria, I wanted to ask you something ...”

  Suddenly, Cameron’s gaze faltered slightly and the world began to break apart into pieces..

  “What ... what do you want to ask?” Maria called out.

  Slowly lowering to one knee, he looked up, her hand still in his, the other hand reaching into his pocket.

  The ringing had grown so intense now; it drowned out Cameron’s voice.

  “No, stop!”

  Maria’s eyes shot open with a jolt. She was back in her room and at her side, her phone rang, the tone now at its loudest point, blaring in her ear.

  She reached out to her bedside table where she had left it earlier, the dream still fresh in her memory.

  It was Cameron calling...

  Fearing she might miss him, she quickly answered.

  “Hello...”

  “Maria... it’s me Cameron. Did I wake you?”

  Maria smiled into the phone, recalling the dream. “Yes, but that’s okay, although I was dreaming about you, ya know.”

  “You were?”

  “Yes, we were back on the Eiffel Tower, only this time we could touch and ‘feel’ each other, not like in Second Life.”

  During their love-making in her Paris apartment, it was perfect except for the small fact that they couldn’t actually feel each other, aside from those sensations they were able to generate within their imaginations. Eventually, Maria wanted to experience the ‘real’ thing.

  “Wow, sorry I woke you. That sounds like the kind of dream you don’t want to be woken up from, especially by a ringing phone! And yes, ‘touch’ is important but for now Second Life is all we have, Maria. In time, maybe…”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Maria interrupted. “I would have been peeved if I’d missed your call.”

  Cameron laughed, “Well, I was just calling to say ‘goodnight’ ...”

  It sounded like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t. Maria understood. It felt awkward not being in Second Life, as if being back in reality was unnatural, more frightening. In a way, Maria supposed
it was. In the world of Second Life, they were kind of living a dream, a fantasy and it had been easy to just switch off and be someone new, someone they wanted to be as opposed to someone they were because they had no other choice.

  They would get used to it, in time.

  Finding each other had been the hard part, considering it had taken them both several years of searching.

  “Goodnight, Cameron. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. New York is going to be a wonderful experience. Can you take me to your old apartment?” Maria asked, excited.

  “Hmmm, well if it exists in Second Life, sure. I lived in a real crappy room you know!”

  “Great, I wanna get a glimpse of the ‘Joe Buck’ lifestyle you used to live!” Maria laughed.

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll give you a taste of the hustler I used to be!”

  He laughed with her, and for a few seconds the awkwardness disappeared.

  Cameron spoke up again, while his confidence was still at a high, his voice serious, “Don’t forget to wear my ring okay?”

  Maria laughed, “Yes sir, in fact I’m wearing it right now... I’ll never take it off.” Her voice softened towards the end as she realized her words were a reflection of how she really felt about Cameron.

  Perhaps in time, they would have to choose a world in which to coexist. Would it be a world of ‘touch’ and sensation, albeit with limitation? Or perhaps they would remain in a world of unlimited possibilities, but lacking that one very vital ingredient – physical contact?

  It was a decision they were in no hurry to make.

  “Goodnight, Maria ... until tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight, Cameron.”