The Story of Lansing Lotte

by L. B. Dunbar

  It was slow and soft. I was an explorer and my journey involved the discovery of her mouth. I travelled her lips with mine, tugging them gently toward me, releasing them only to trap them again. My mouth formed over hers and mapped a route that included the dip over her top lip and the pout of her bottom one. When I felt I’d charted that territory enough, I licked the seam of hers with the slightest of tongue. She sighed and I took the invitation to open her farther, separating her lips to allow me entrance as our tongues hesitantly licked and rolled. I’d rounded hers one final time before we collided further.

  I couldn’t get close enough to her as I wrapped my arms around her waist and gently pushed her into me. The bulge in my pants was undisguisable as I pressed against her waist. Her fingers had looped through my belt and she tugged me against her in response. Her silky top left no barrier between us and the valley of her breasts was open to me. I slipped from her mouth, traveling south over her slightly warm skin to reach that valley when another buzz hit my apartment. I continued between the folds of her open shirt when the buzz struck again. Her hands gently gripped my face and pushed me back from her chest.

  “You better get the door,” she said breathlessly.

  “I’m not home,” I said, as I covered her mouth again and she sighed into mine. I was in uncharted territory and nothing would prevent me from continuing to kiss the woman like I had dreamed of doing for five years.

  Except another buzz of the system.

  Guinevere pulled back and I froze.

  “Whoever it is doesn’t believe you’re not home. And I should go. Back to my own home.” She disentangled herself from me and reached behind her for the jacket over my couch.

  “I don’t want you to go,” I said, sounding like a pouting child.

  “I think it’s best,” she replied quietly, as she walked past me pulling her jacket on. We reached the front door and she looked at me over her shoulder.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said and smiled slowly. It was genuine, but sad, and I suddenly realized Guinie’s only fear was to lose another member of the band. I wasn’t convinced she was worried about me specifically, despite our intimacy moments ago.

  As I opened the door for Guinie to leave, Layne stood on the other side.

  Layne’s face dropped the second she saw Guinevere. She looked between the two of us as if she was at a tennis match. The guilt was written all over my face. The guilt was in Guinie’s hair, which stood out rumpled and fingered. Her face was still flushed and she had tenderly scratched skin from the stubble on my chin.

  “Guinie?” Layne questioned.

  “Layne, honey, I just came to check on Lansing. Make sure he was okay and learn about this woman living with him,” Guinie replied, her tone a bit spiteful as if she was telling Layne something that she didn’t know.

  “Lila?” Layne said the two syllable name as if it was a new word to her.

  “Layne knows about Lila, Guinie. I told her all about her staying with me, for a bit, until her apartment is repaired downstairs.”

  Guinie’s eyes reached mine and she searched my face for a moment. They opened wide then returned to normal. She looked at Layne.

  “Well, I’m so glad you told Layne. Talked with her about it,” Guinie sounded like a protective mother addressing her child in the third person.

  “Are we still on for Elaine’s party upstate?” Guinie addressed Layne directly, who could only respond with the name of another woman “Elaine” with a confident nod of her head.

  If there was ever a time I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me, that moment might have been it. I needed the awkwardness of standing between Guinie and Layne to end. Thankfully, Guinie excused herself and exited into the hall, while I reached out for Layne and gently tugged her into my apartment. I closed the door before I had seen Guinie into the elevator.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but I was wound up from the kiss with Guinie and the uncomfortable appearance of Layne.

  “I hadn’t seen you for days. I thought I’d surprise you,” she said, her voice questioning her response.

  “Well, you did surprise me,” I tried to laugh, but it was false.

  “It’s not a happy surprise?” She looked at me and her eyes begged me to lie.

  “Of course, I’m happy to see you. Come in.” I tried to calm my breathing. I guided her into the living room, where moments ago I stood and discovered the mouth I’d longed for, for years. My eyes wandered to the space that Guinie and I occupied only minutes ago, and Layne caught me staring.

  “What happened?” she sighed. I blinked and turned to look at her.

  “Nothing. What do you mean?”

  “Between you and Guinie. What happened?”

  I tried to sound casual and stooped to sit on the couch.

  “She stopped by to make sure I was okay.”

  “Are you? Okay?”

  I wiped both hands across my face and patted the space next to me on the couch.

  “I’m fine,” I said. The awkward silence filled the room again and I reached for a game controller.

  “Want to play?”

  “Sure,” she said cautiously and reached for the remote I handed her.

  We played for an hour, talking occasionally about the state of the apartments below, Layne’s potential audition that I finally arranged through Ingrid’s assistant, and the possibilities for the future of the band. That last topic wasn’t something I wanted to discuss in detail. I had one brief moment where I decided, I might need to go out on my own. I couldn’t sing like Arturo, but I had a sound and I could play a mean guitar. I’d been thinking I should start practicing on my own more and possibly try to write my own songs, but I didn’t wish to share those ideas with Layne for some reason.

  After a while, I saw GalehautIII pop up on the screen.

  Still got a girl?

  I was surprised that he knew anyone was in my apartment. It wasn’t the first time I wondered if he had hidden cameras on me.

  Suicide16 on screen, I hinted.

  Hi Layne, he typed.

  Hi Will, she replied.

  Be careful Your Grace, he responded. I somehow knew the warning wasn’t intended for Layne.

  When Lila arrived home at midnight, slightly tipsy, I was worried about another tense scene, but she immediately embraced Layne, telling her how happy she was to meet her. She held Layne’s shoulders at arm’s length and smiled her beautifully white smile at Layne, who instantly seemed at ease about the situation of a woman living with me. A sexy woman. It was written all over Lila with her hooded eyes, heavy with make-up and too much drink. Her skintight red dress hugged her body and her hair was full over her shoulders. She looked a bit rumpled, and I was instantly jealous when I had no right to be.

  “Where’s your jacket?” I scolded her.

  “Oopsy. I left it with Shannon,” she giggled and hiccupped.

  I shook my head in mock disgust.

  “I guess I better get going,” Layne said shyly.

  “Oh no? Are you leaving because of me? Don’t leave. Stay. You can stay. Pretend I’m not here. I’ll go right to my room. You won’t know I’m here,” Lila rambled, as she let go of Layne and stumbled forward. She tripped and I reached for her but she brushed me off.

  “No, no rock star. Take care of that girl.” She pointed at Layne and winked. Layne laughed nervously and I placed my hand on her lower back.

  “Maybe you should go?” I said questioning her, but it was more of a suggestion.

  Layne hesitated. I think she wanted me to kiss her, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t place my lips on Layne after they’d been on Guinevere.

  I saw Layne’s disappointment immediately in those doe eyes. I decided to walk her to the elevator.

  “I’ll ride down with you and get you a cab,” I said.

  “No,” she adamantly replied. “I feel like I’m doing the walk of shame, as it is. I don’t think I want you to wait while I get
a cab.”

  “Walk of shame? What do you know about the walk of shame?” I teased her.

  She entered the open elevator and turned to face me.

  “There’s plenty about me you don’t know,” she said, as the doors to the elevator closed, cutting off my sight of Layne.

  After Layne left, I returned to the apartment to find Lila missing from the living room. I had to laugh out loud that Guinie’s comment, about a revolving door of women, might be what I did seem to have going on suddenly. I entered Lila’s room to find her passed out on the bed, still fully dressed in her skintight red dress. Her short legs stuck out long and lengthy as the hem of the dress rode up her thigh. She was curved in the hips with a narrow waist and her breasts were large for a small woman. As she took a deep breath in her drunken slumber, her chest heaved forward accentuating their size and the amount exposed above the dress. Her honey blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder. She made a soft purr, which I felt in a place I needed to ignore. I was too wound up from all the women in my life. I didn’t need to add another.

  Lila still had on her shoes, so I slipped them from her small feet, placing them on the floor. She had fallen on top of the covers with Fleur tucked in beside her. I didn’t want her to get cold. I went to my room and pulled a blanket off my own bed, returning to spread it over Lila. She curled into the warmth and rolled to face Fleur’s back. She absentmindedly placed a hand on little Fleur, and my heart skipped a beat at the tenderness. Even in her sleep, there was a connection to Fleur. I was a bit jealous that someone would reach out in sleep to make sure another was safe.

  I was tied up tight and my head was racing. Knowing that sleep wouldn’t come easily that night, I returned to the living room and entered the escape world of video games again. Galehaut tried to engage me in online conversation through his pestering.

  Lover girl came to see me.

  I didn’t play along.

  Wanna know what she said?

  I didn’t reply.

  You know you do.

  I was getting ready to shut off the game when the screen flashed.

  I think she likes you.

  I froze the game. He had to be making that up. Guinie wouldn’t have gone to see Will, but how did Will know that Guinie had been here in the first place? My eyes stayed trained on the words: I think she likes you. If only it were true, but I felt like a high schooler again. It was beyond silly and I could hear Galehaut’s taunting voice in my head. The taste of Guinie’s lips lingered on mine. I knew that I didn’t just want Guinie to like me. I wanted more than that from her, but exactly what I wasn’t sure.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I knew it was late into the night when I heard a soft cry. I muted the game and held my breath waiting.

  “Mommy.”

  I waited another moment, knowing Lila was right next to Fleur, but she sounded rather distressed. Another moment passed.

  “Mommy.”

  Fleur sounded frightened and I was up off the couch in an instant. I entered the room to find Fleur sitting up and shaking Lila, who was still out cold. She was definitely breathing as the blanket shifted with her breath, but Fleur was scared. Without Lila’s response, I could see Fleur was beginning to panic.

  “Ladybug, darling, what’s wrong?”

  She looked at me a moment, like she didn’t know who I was, and returned to shaking Lila who let out a large snore.

  I had to bite my lip not to laugh and I addressed Fleur again.

  “Fleur? What do you need?”

  She gazed at me like she was looking through me. Slowly I saw the recognition come to her and she began to cry. I approached her side of the bed and put out my arms to pick her up. It was all out of my comfort zone. I didn’t know what to do with a crying child.

  “Mommy,” she said, as she turned her back on me and placed her hands on Lila’s bare arm.

  I reached for Fleur knowing Lila was not going to wake up.

  “Fleur, come with me,” I said, as she struggled in my arms, squirming for Lila instead. I had her up in the air and I wouldn’t have imagined a four-year-old had that kind of strength, but I almost dropped her as she twisted.

  “Ladybug, enough, darling. Let’s let Li…Mommy sleep. Did you have a bad dream?”

  She twisted back in my arms and nodded sheepishly.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” I said kissing the top of her head. “Want to come out in the living room and watch television with me.”

  She nodded again. She didn’t wrap her arms around me, like she had before, but she had stopped struggling as I walked us out of the room. I sat her next to me on the couch as I tried to find something appropriate on late night television. After several inappropriate scenes I decided on Channel 101, which broadcasted Guitar Central, a show that features bands in an acoustic set up within a televised studio. In between sets, the retired writer from Rolling Stone Magazine interviews bands about their history, their music, and their life outside the band.

  It was a rerun that featured The Nights.

  There was Arturo King in the flesh before me on the screen. He was discussing how our band came together. How he and I were friends first, and Mure Linn had coached us to play together, in unison. He explained how Perk joined us after I met him, and how Tristan approached Arturo immediately upon entering college. It was before our second album, which would have been the album featured on our suddenly cancelled tour. Questions arose about the drinking, the women, and the nicknames. Arturo was known as the Chivalrous Lover. Gentlemanly. Tristan was the Heartbreaker as he went through so many women they were nicknames flavors, coming in all types, shapes, and sizes. Perk was the Hands-Free Lover and I laughed on screen. He was clearly embarrassed by that. He was trying to get out of answering when he finally blurted out that he was waiting for the girl of his dreams. He was a big guy, but he was socially awkward due to his secluded upbringing.

  “And do you believe there is a girl out there who will meet your dreams?” the interviewer asked.

  Perk confidently answered, “Yes, I do.”

  I shook my head realizing that Perk had found that girl, while I was still waiting for mine.

  I felt someone watching me and I looked over my shoulder to see Lila standing at the corner of the wall, where the living room turned into the hall.

  “Hey,” she said with a groggy voice.

  “Hey.” I smiled.

  “What time is it?”

  I looked at the screen to see it read 3:30 a.m. in the corner of the television.

  “What’s going on out here?” she questioned softly. I followed her eyes to see that Fleur had her head on my lap and I had my hand on her head. I had been concentrating so much on the vision of Arturo before me, I hadn’t noticed that Fleur had curled up on her side and was sleeping with her head on my thigh. I was unconsciously stroking her baby fine hair.

  “She was crying for you. I didn’t want her to wake you, although the way you were snoring, I doubt that was really a risk.”

  “I wasn’t snoring,” she said, as she entered my living room still wearing her very wrinkled dress.

  “Yes, you were.” I made a snorting noise to imitate it.

  Her mouth fell open and I laughed. Fleur stirred and rolled onto her back.

  “I’m sorry she disturbed you.” Lila approached the couch. “I’m not really cut out for motherhood,” she said softly. My eyes followed her motion as she reached for Fleur. Without thinking I gripped her wrist.

  “Why would you say that?”

  Her brown eyes met mine and she silently shrugged her shoulders.

  “Answer me,” I said, giving her arm a little shake.

  “I don’t know. I’m just not.”

  “Lila, I don’t want to hear that. You’re an amazing woman and you work hard. And Fleur…she’s awesome because of you.”

  Lila looked at me hard for a moment. She was about to say something, I knew it, but she stopped herself. I let go of her wrist and patted the space
next to me on the couch. Sighing, she sat next to me. Our thighs touched and I looked at the place where we connected. The edge of her dress had risen again; her knees were exposed, as well as, a healthy dose of her upper thigh. She noticed me staring and struggled to tug the dress down. My eyes shot up to the screen.

  “What are you watching?” she asked softly.

  “Guitar Central.”

  “Is that Arturo?”

  “Yep.”

  “So sad,” she said softly.

  “Yep,” I breathed out.

  “He had so much talent. Lots of drama, but so much talent.”

  “He still has talent,” I said, a bit angrily at her use of the past tense.

  “He still has,” she corrected herself.

  We were silent for several moments as we watched The Nights play one of our most famous songs. The one that Arturo attributed to Ana, until he found out who she really was.

  “This song is so sad,” Lila said.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. It’s the last of everything and he just wants to hold on a little longer.”

  I stared at Lila. She continued.

  “I mean. It’s a sexy song, don’t get me wrong, but when you really listen to the words. It’s definitely like he wants someone he knows he can’t have and he’s trying to freeze time.”

  I hadn’t spoken.

  “If you only had one chance with someone, what would you do, right?” Lila turned to look at me, but I had no response. I didn’t know how to answer. If I had only one chance, what would I do?

  Lansing’s response over my motherhood comment surprised me. He didn’t seem particularly aggressive. He seemed sad. Excessively sad.

  He’d spoken in bits and pieces about the band. The cancelled tour and the lack of interest to get together and play. I hadn’t seen or heard him with his guitar in the time we had been in his place. He didn’t talk about it, if I brought it up, and I always let it drop, as I didn’t want to make things awkward between us. It had already been awkward, when I came home too drunk to find him in the entryway with Layne Ascolat. Pretty Layne Ascolat. She had that wild hair and deep dark eyes that looked frightened, but I bet there was a fire behind those eyes, and she wanted to spark, all over Lansing.