Turbulence

by E. J. Noyes

  Audrey’s eyes widened, ever so slightly, when I started setting cloth napkins out. “It’s just how she is, nothing fancy. Promise,” I assured her in a low voice.

  From the head of the table, Mama suppressed her natural urge to serve and let us dish up our own dinner. She watched me take small portions, eyes narrowed until I added a second scoop of potato. Gravy was poured onto my plate without my permission and I could do nothing when she carved off more meat and placed it on top of what I’d already served myself. If we were alone, I would have protested and loudly but I had to sit and take it. This time.

  Audrey took Mama-pleasing portions of everything. Mama slowly turned toward me and gave me a pointed this is how daughters should behave stare. I tried to make contact with Audrey under the table, but she stretched a long leg out and trapped mine against my chair leg before I could nudge her.

  Mama stopped cutting beef to start questioning. “Audrey, what did you do before you started working at Rhodes and Hall?”

  Audrey straightened, wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin and set it back on her lap. “I was a commercial pilot and instructor for some time, then I moved into private aviation.”

  I silently forked up green beans, eyes moving between the two of them like a tennis spectator. Mama nodded, slow and thoughtful. “Instructor. I can see it. Why not stay commercial?”

  Time to break my silence. I reached for my wine. “Mama. Stop bein’ so damned nosy.” It was out before I could help myself but I made the correction anyway. “Being. Stop being so nosy.”

  Audrey seemed amused by my outburst, smiling as she shook her head gently. “It’s fine,” she said to me before turning back to Mama. “The hours and the pay weren’t great and a friend mentioned private work. So I did my certifications and never looked back.”

  “And do you like working with my daughter?” Mama’s usage of with, not for wasn’t lost on me. She knew. For sure she knew. I wondered what new and exciting guidance she’d come up with to talk to me about sleeping with an employee.

  “Mama.”

  Audrey ran her foot up my calf and smiled charmingly at both of us. “Yes I do. The company treats its employees very well and the Phenom three hundred is a really sweet aircraft. Handles beautifully. It’s almost like leisure time rather than work.” She stopped abruptly and picked up her fork. Her cheeks had a faint flush of color. She was adorable when she got excited. I’d never seen this side of her before and I was suddenly conscious of a warm sort of affection in the pit of my stomach.

  “Sorry. Once an aircraft geek, always an aircraft geek,” Audrey apologized.

  Mama smiled. “Nothin’ to be sorry about. It’s good to be passionate about things. And I’m glad to hear you’re treated well.” She glanced at me, a hint of pride evident on her face, then back to Audrey. “Now, when you’re done with that, I’ve got pie for dessert.”

  Conversation flowed easily for the rest of dinner. Audrey had a knack for it, steering and adjusting through the exchanges effortlessly. As I sat there, watching them talking and occasionally interjecting myself, I realized it shouldn’t be a surprise. She had an abundance of confidence. But it never slid toward cockiness or arrogance. I clamped a lid down on thoughts of how much I enjoyed having her in my Mama’s house, laughing and joking with us.

  Though eating dessert went against every cell in my body, skipping was not an option. Mama doled out cherry pie. “Made fresh this afternoon,” she told us.

  I knew it’d be amazing, but that was beside the point. I put half my portion back, managed to cut her off after one second of cream pouring and yanked the bowl away before she could add another scoop of ice cream. Mama’s lips were thinner than paper. Audrey’s were trying not to smile. I scraped all the filling out and ate it, and compromised by eating the top crust. It was fucking delicious. My ass agreed and begged me to finish the rest and take seconds. I stood firm and pushed the remainder away. The chickens would eat my leftover pastry. Really, I was doing them a favor.

  After dessert we transferred onto the porch with our second bottle to sit and talk. Audrey and I settled on the day bed, pleasantly dulled by wine and food. I was dulled enough that I didn’t care when conversation inevitably turned to the things Young Isabelle had done. Academic prizes, athletic events I’d tried, excelled or failed at. The trouble I’d gotten into.

  For sure, Mama knew that telling my employee how I’d once worn the same T-shirt for two weeks in protest of my curfew wasn’t really acceptable, but she did it anyway. She did it because that’s what she did to people with whom I was involved. I knew she knew about us because she looked so damned triumphant when I didn’t shut her down.

  Near midnight, Audrey started to shift. “I should really get going. Connie, thank you so much for the wonderful meal and company.”

  “You’re welcome, and don’t be silly. It’s too late to be takin’ a taxi back to town, and Bunny, you’ve certainly drunk too much to drive.” She poured the remaining wine between Audrey’s and my glasses. “Stay the night, I’ll make up the guest room.”

  Audrey glanced my way, gauging my response. Her expression was feigned nonchalance, but I caught the hopefulness underneath it. She wanted to stay. I wanted her to stay. I shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with it,” I said and swallowed another mouthful of wine. It was a lie. The problem I had was that she would be right down the hall from me and I was right on the edge of tipsy. Right on the edge of tipsy meant well into horny. The thought of sneaking around having sex and trying to be quiet ratcheted it up even further.

  “Well then, I’ll see you for breakfast in the morning.” Mama kissed my hair and left us to go make up the guest room and, judging by her wink, to give us a little privacy. Things were dire when my own mother was as invested in my relationship as I was.

  Audrey and I stared at each other for a few long moments until she spoke, “Should probably go to bed.”

  “Mmm.” I rolled clumsily off the day bed, holding my wineglass triumphantly aloft. I finished it as we walked to the kitchen, making a quick round of the downstairs doors. Not that it would matter if any were forgotten. Mama left doors unlocked all the time but NYC had ruined such casual behavior.

  I caught Audrey’s arm as she walked past, holding it lightly so she could break away if she wanted to. What the fuck was I thinking? A rhetorical question. I knew exactly what I was thinking, why else would I have brought her here to my hometown? It seemed that she caught on immediately, twisting back toward me. Her mouth was on mine before I could say anything.

  Audrey pushed me against the wall beside the refrigerator, her hands on the small of my back, keeping me close. I lifted myself up on tiptoes, groaning as her tongue frantically explored my mouth. She tasted like wine and cherries. My hands took the initiative and slid under her top, making their way up to skim the skin spilling over the cups of her bra. I started to tug her toward the stairs. In that moment I would have taken her on the floor of the kitchen, or the den. On Mama’s couch. Anywhere.

  Excitement built, threatening to overwhelm me until she pulled away. I groaned, trying to keep her in place. To keep contact with the warmth of her body, the firm muscle and soft curves that were sending shivers through my body.

  “We can’t,” she said breathlessly. “Not here. God I want to, but we can’t.”

  I ran my tongue up her neck and over her ear. “I can be quiet.” Besides, Mama’s and my rooms were at opposite ends of the house.

  “I don’t want you to be quiet,” she murmured. “I want to hear you scream.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I woke before dawn, as was my habit and lazed in bed for a few minutes. I was alone. Last night she’d left me in the kitchen, a wet, quivering and unsatisfied mess. Brushing her lips over mine once more, she’d informed me of her plans. “Sorry, Iz but I am going to be masturbating in your guest room, so you can just think about that.” So rude.

  She left me to go to bed and help myself, thinking about her barely ten st
eps away probably doing the same thing. And think about it I did. I came under my own fingers with my teeth in my hand to stifle the sound as I climaxed. Damn her.

  The background noise here never changed. The hum of the AC, livestock competing to see who could make the most noise, and the distant sound of trucks making their way to the highway. I slipped from my bed, dressed quickly and headed out for a run. As I passed the guest bedroom I stopped, hand on the doorknob. I had every intention of stealthily opening the door to look at her until I realized just how creepy it would be.

  A quick scrawl of RUNNING on the kitchen whiteboard—Mama would worry if she woke and I wasn’t in the house—my music cranked up and I was off. I made my way north as the sun started to peek over the horizon, bringing a tentative orange glow with it. I looped around the fairgrounds, bass pounding in my ears to set pace for my feet. For thirty glorious minutes, my head was clear as I ran. Cars were starting to appear on the streets, people on their way to wherever and I raised a hand to greet each and every one that passed.

  The air felt moist in my lungs, different to the cool crispness I was accustomed to. It was almost six forty-five by the time I slowed to a cool-down walk up the driveway. The chickens were milling noisily in their coop and rushed out when I opened their door. I tossed out mash for them, gently nudging them out of the way so I could check for eggs. I made a nest in my sweaty tank, scooped up the eggs, and left them on the counter for Mama when she came down to start breakfast.

  Mama had exited her room at precisely seven fifteen every morning for as long as I could remember. Her only exceptions were illness, when she pushed it back to seven thirty or the days my granddaddy and Grams died when she didn’t come out at all. I had thirty minutes to myself.

  My laptop was on the coffee table, still open from last night. I refreshed my market updater and glanced at figures. Then I logged onto the office servers and made a few transfers. Mama came down the stairs as I was stretching on the floor of the den. I craned my neck to look at her.

  From my upside down angle, her frown could be taken for a lopsided smile. “Lord, I wish you’d relax when you’re here,” she grumbled. “I’ll put coffee on. Go shower.”

  There was no indication from the guest room that Audrey was awake. Odd. I knew, from our sleepovers, that she was an early riser like myself. A few steps past the guest room door, I heard a muffled groan. No, she wasn’t…she wouldn’t. I stopped and strained to listen and I heard it again. Though it was muted, it was a sound I knew well. Yes, she was. Damn her again.

  Knowing she was pleasuring herself in the guest room made it very hard to shower without attending to myself. I gave in, leaned my head against the cool tiles and slipped my fingers between my legs. There was nothing slow or sensual about it. It was quick and rough, designed only to ease the pressure she’d caused.

  By the time I’d finished my shower with self-service and dressed, I smelled coffee. The guest room was empty, bed neatly made and Audrey nowhere to be seen. Sounds of their conversation carried up to me. The stairs in this house didn’t squeak. I could eavesdrop. Laughter. My name. I paused at the base of the stairs. Mama was starting a story about my fourth grade Christmas pageant. It was time to intervene. I bounded down the last few stairs and into the kitchen. “Mornin’.”

  Both of them looked up, not at all guilty about being caught discussing me. Audrey smiled when I settled opposite her. “Hey.” She’d already been issued coffee and fruit, a precursor to the bigger more fried kind of breakfast Mama insisted upon whenever I was in town.

  Mama slid a mug of coffee across the table to me. “Have a good run, baby?”

  I pulled it closer. “Thank you, Mama. I did.” I dropped a teaspoon of sweetener—the only time it was used in Mama’s house—into my coffee and turned to Audrey. “How’d you sleep?”

  Her smile was slight. “Very well thank you.”

  Mama started fussing, setting out fruit for me and gathering breakfast supplies. “What did you have planned for today, Audrey?”

  Audrey glanced at me then back to Mama. “Uh, I believe there are Farmer’s Markets? I thought I might take a look and explore the town a little.”

  “Great idea. We were going to head on down after breakfast. You’re more’n welcome to come with us.” Without asking me, Mama starting assembling fillings for my egg white omelet.

  “Oh, that’s very thoughtful of you, but really I’ve intruded enough already.” She looked to me, eyebrows raised.

  I shrugged, sipping coffee. I knew better than to try and change Mama’s mind.

  “Nonsense.” Mama cracked eggs into two bowls, donating my yolks to her and Audrey’s. “Now, scrambled okay with you? Bacon? How d’you like your toast?”

  * * *

  After breakfast, I helped Mama with dishes while Audrey went upstairs to shower. With her out of earshot, Mama pounced. “Why are you keepin’ her in a hotel?”

  “What do you mean?” I started drying plates.

  “You know exactly what I mean.” She eyed me shrewdly. “Your new employee, huh?”

  Yep, one hundred percent busted. “She is.”

  “And the rest. I know that look, Bunny, though admittedly I have not seen it in a long while.” Mama raised her eyes to the roof, forehead wrinkled. “Not since Jessie Sweaten in college.”

  Jessie Sweaten. My first real love. Also the first woman to shatter my heart when she dumped me halfway through second semester for a redheaded pre-med. “It’s not that easy, Mama.”

  “So you admit it then!” She grabbed another dishtowel and flicked me with it. “Can’t believe you never told me you were datin’ someone.”

  “I don’t know what we’re doing.”

  “Well, she looks at you like she’s dyin’ of thirst and you’re a river. Saw it right away last night.”

  “Mama, please.” Despite my protest, I was happy.

  “Just callin’ it how I see it, and how I see it is my daughter coming alive ’round that woman.” She winked at me.

  I leaned against the counter, and suddenly had a strange sense of déjà vu. I was nineteen, telling her I was moving to New York and expecting her to be angry. But she wasn’t. “You’re not gonna lecture me about it bein’ a bad idea? Seeing as she is my employee and all.”

  “You’re not dumb, baby. I’m sure you’ve been through it already.” Mama wiped the benches down. “Let her stay here tonight. I’d like to talk to her some more.”

  Brilliant. “Mama, please. It’s complex enough. Be gentle, I’m beggin’ you.”

  She gave me a noncommittal shrug and left me in the kitchen to wait. When Audrey came back downstairs five minutes later she was casual in shorts, a polo and deck shoes. The woman had legs for miles. I kissed her then rushed upstairs to brush my teeth and tame my hair.

  It’d been decided at breakfast that we would take two cars—Mama always tired of the markets quickly and Audrey might want to look around. I snagged my keys from the hook beside the fridge. “Mama! We’re leaving!”

  Mama called back, “Show Audrey ’round town!”

  Show her what exactly? There weren’t exactly a lot of exciting landmarks. Audrey held the back door open for me. “Do you want me to drive? I can. I mean, I don’t know if that’s part of my job description, but I’m happy to. Seeing as you don’t do it much.” She was smirking.

  I recoiled in mock horror. “Drive my baby? No, of course not. But thank you for the offer.” I actually really liked driving but didn’t need a car in New York. I twirled my key ring around my finger as we headed out to the garage where my first, and only, car was garaged.

  Audrey helped me drag the door up, metal protesting the entire way. I jammed the peg into a hole in the wall to keep the door from sliding back down. “Can you flip the light, please? Just behind you.”

  Audrey whistled through her teeth when she spotted my car, a sixty-eight Bahama Blue Mustang Coupe. “Wow. I never would have pegged you as a muscle car kind of girl. Nice.”

&n
bsp; I grinned at her reaction. The Mustang was a piece of my past to which I clung fiercely. When I bought her, she was midway through being restored before the guy ran out of money and had to sell. Back then, the ’Stang had a mismatched door panel, rips in the leather interior and a passenger window that you had to force up and down. As soon as I could afford it, I’d had her fully restored inside, outside and under the hood. She was a work of art.

  I unlocked the driver’s door. “My daddy had a Mustang, or so Mama said. I found this one when I was just on seventeen and bought her.” It was perhaps the only thing I’d ever done to feel close to the man who’d dumped us eight days before my fifth birthday.

  Years later, Mama told me that’s what cut her the most about what he did, that I had a birthday without my daddy. I don’t remember being concerned. I do remember I got a My Little Pony set and puked after eating too much cake.

  I’d been vague when I told Audrey about why he left and I didn’t want to elaborate, not now. We’d skimmed over family details around week three. I knew her father had died when she was thirteen, but she’d been vague about the cause. Her mother still lived in Minnesota and her only sibling, an older brother, in Oregon.

  I slid in and opened the passenger door for her. “Mama keeps her turning over for me.” Still, the engine caught a few times as it always did before she fired up. The deep rumble bounced off the walls, reverberating through my chest. I fished in my purse for sunglasses, then leaned over to dump the bag on the passenger floor. My breast brushed Audrey’s arm and my nipples tightened reflexively at the touch. Down girls.

  Audrey gave no sign that she’d noticed the touch or the bullet points of my nipples. “This car is really not what I expected.”

  I grinned. “No? What did you expect?” We were sitting in the garage while the car warmed a little.