by L. B. Dunbar
“Can I help in some way?” I asked stepping closer. I suddenly realized the duffle bag was the same one that Lila and Fleur had arrived with and it was bulging full.
“What’s going on here?” I said firmly.
“Fleur wants to go to the park today, but I have to work and I need to pick up a camera from a friend for the shoot, because I still haven’t replaced my own. She’s up a bit earlier than normal. We didn’t sleep well last night. I just don’t have time for this, right now.”
She was still avoiding my gaze as she stood after kissing Fleur, one more time. She reached for the collapsible handle to straighten the bag. Fleur was hiccupping from her crying, and Lila had taken her hand, ready to storm out the door if need be.
“I mean, what’s going on with the bag?” I demanded.
“We’re leaving,” Lila said softly.
“Why?”
“I think it’s best after last night. You have a lot going on and you don’t need us in your way,” Lila said. She stepped to her right, but I body blocked her. Her eyes slowly scanned up my body and opened wide as she took in my bare chest. I had on jeans with my hands in the front pockets to conceal what her look had done to me. When she reached my face, she looked away.
“I need to go,” she whispered and stepped to her left.
I followed her motion with my body and stopped her again. We were close enough that her eyes on my abs were evident. I could see her breasts rising and falling with exaggerated breaths. I swallowed the moisture in my mouth.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I voiced low.
She met my stare and we held each other in a comforting swirl of brown and blue. Fleur started to cry again and whatever was building between us had just crashed to the shore.
“I gotta go,” Lila repeated. She tried to just bulldoze through me, but my hands came up to her shoulders. I forced her gently back against the narrow wall next to the bar.
“Don’t leave. I didn’t mean what I said. You’re right. I’m stressed out, but…I like having you here. It’s a good distraction for me.”
Lila looked away and I questioned if I hurt her feelings. She recovered quickly and I decided I had imagined it. I slid my hand down her one arm and covered her hand with mine, over the handle of the duffle bag.
“Stay,” I said softly. Lila’s breathing was still ragged. Her shoulder shrugged slightly forcing my eyes to fall to the exposed breasts above a bra that peeked out her open shirt. I swallowed again and felt my body reacting.
“I gotta go. I mean I really need to go. I have to get the camera and get to the shoot.”
“What about Fleur?”
“I need to get her to Clare.”
“No, I mean, what about if I take her. I’ll take her to the park. You go get the camera and go to your shoot.”
Lila stared at me for a long moment. Her face scrunched and she pinched her eyebrows together.
“Really?” she averted her eyes.
I placed my fingers gently under her chin and forced her to look at me. I didn’t realize how far forward I had leaned until she faced me. We were mere inches away from one another, and I could feel her soft breath exhale. I was suddenly overcome with a desire to kiss her, and not just kiss her for comfort, but kiss her like she owned me and I owned her. She licked her lips and I swallowed again, leaning forward. Holding her gaze with mine, I was almost connected with her, when she turned her head away.
“If you’re sure, Fleur would love to be with you for the day.” She wasn’t looking at me. As a matter of fact, she was holding her eyes purposefully away from me. I pulled back from her face. What was I doing? For the second time, I had tried to take advantage of the girl who wasn’t asking anything of me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. She nodded once, slipping out from between the wall and me. She bent to scoop Fleur into an embrace and then held her away for a moment.
“Mr. Lansing is going to take you to the park while I go to work, okay? Is that better? But you have to be good for him and listen to what he says, Fleur. No more tears today and a nap for sure.”
“No nap,” Fleur said on a pout.
“We’ll see about that,” Lila said standing.
“I should be back around one-ish. Her coat’s in this bag. She already had some breakfast and…” Lila was digging in her own bag and pulled out a rumbled twenty, “and here’s some money for McDonald’s or something.”
“I don’t need your money,” I laughed in disgust, slipping my hands back into my pockets to refuse it. Lila surprised me by reaching around me, pressing into my chest with her heaving breasts and slipping the twenty into my back pocket. She patted my ass once and stepped back.
“Don’t look so surprised,” she said. “I’m sure that’s not the first time a woman’s slipped something into your pocket.”
I was still blinking in my physically excited state of disbelief.
“Speaking of distraction, put a shirt on, already,” she laughed with a sigh, and passed me the final time without a struggle.
I took Fleur to Central Park. We walked slowly as her little legs wandered and skipped. She was a beautiful child, who looked nothing like her mother, and I wondered again about Fleur’s father. Who he was? Where he was? Lila had told me she had nowhere to go and I didn’t question her further. She hadn’t mentioned any family and I hadn’t asked. I’d met Clare, who babysat for Lila at times, and she had another girl for later shifts. I realized that I didn’t know much about Lila or Fleur, but I meant what I said. I liked having them around. They were a good distraction. The day at the park was a perfect example as I walked Fleur to a playground and helped her on the swings.
After pushing her several times, she slid off and headed for a large contraption of bridges and climbing pieces. I stood nearby, worried that she would fall and feeling protective of her. Feeling protective of something for once in my life. I heard her sweet giggle as she raced up and down the jiggling structure, and then she would return to me, as if constantly checking that I was still there for her. I helped her climb the structure, and assisted her to swing from one bar to the next on the monkey bars, as her little arms couldn’t reach. Finally, she ran over to the slide and I waited at the bottom while she climbed. I caught her at the end and she squealed in delight. I lifted her in the air and jostled her while she laughed further.
“Again,” she said, as I placed her on the ground and she ran for the ladder.
I had the strangest sensation of being watched, for a brief moment, and looked around the playground: mothers with children, nannies in small groups talking while kids played nearby, a couple sitting off to the side on a bench. I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary and I refocused on Fleur.
An hour or so had passed, and I asked Fleur if she wanted to get something to eat. I’d already had us stop at the coffee shop down the street to get myself a coffee. The same one I had been in when the fire started. I planned to take her to a small deli near there for lunch. I wasn’t sure what Fleur ate exactly, but I knew the deli offered a mix of things.
Fleur and I began the slow walk back through the park. It was quiet for an early November day, and the wind was mild, despite a slight chill. Fleur didn’t seem cold, but I asked her all the same and reached to hold her hand, which was so small in mine. I was thinking of Lila and her eyes skimming my body. Not the most appropriate thought while I held the hand of her child, but I was recalling it all the same. My body had betrayed me. It wasn’t like the spark I’d felt for Layne or the desire I had for Guinevere, it was more overtaking. It rose from my toes and consumed me like a flame would a scarecrow. I burned from that look, in a way I had never felt before. Engulfed. It was like the dream I had of the fire lady. I was surrounded in warmth that was a comfort. It hit me then, the glowing lady of my dream was Lila. She had embraced me and I felt safe with her. I recalled the faint smell of Lila in my room. Had Lila slept with me in my bed? Did she hold me while I cried in my sleep? My thoughts were suddenly int
errupted.
“Lansing?”
I looked up to meet the blue eyes of another woman. Guinevere.
I’d been almost late for the photo shoot. My friend, Kevin, was letting me borrow an older Nikon for the day. I had been borrowing cameras from everyone while I waited for the insurance check. The beauty of the digital age was I could copy the images into my computer, which I also needed to replace. In my current duress, I was copying photos onto a memory card or directly to my online backup, if the card didn’t fit a camera. I always remembered to wipe the camera clean of my material afterward. It was becoming a habit.
I was frazzled. Fleur’s morning tantrum was the last thing I needed after I hadn’t slept. She kept tossing and turning, as was I. It was getting tiresome to share a bed with a four year old. I was getting antsy to move back to my own place, if for no other reason than I had to get away from Lansing. When he came into the room without a shirt, it was almost my undoing. I wanted to rip off my own shirt and tackle him. He looked too delicious with his low hanging jeans and his cap. His abs were tight and his skin was clean. He didn’t have a single tattoo. He was a pretty specimen.
He was also a mess.
When he tried to kiss me the other night, I was almost glad he was drunk. He was so off in his attempts, but if he had been on, I wouldn’t have been able to resist. I hadn’t seen him upset about Layne Ascolat’s death, but I knew he was. He’d been drinking since the funeral and he seemed hell bent on burying his sorrow. When he mentioned he couldn’t be a father, I was worried that he meant Layne had been pregnant, and when I mentioned it he laughed.
“She’s dead.”
That’s when he started crying.
I didn’t know what else to do, other than to hold him. I slipped my arms around him and he had me pressed against the refrigerator. I was afraid to move as he clung to me, silently sobbing into my neck. Then, he kissed me. Softly, slowly, his lips burned a trail around the side of my collarbone, and I felt his excitement instantly. I didn’t know how he could go from sobbing to sexual in seconds, but he did. He moaned my name into my skin, and I bit back my own sigh. I gave him a moment, but when he went for my lips again, I had to pull back. It would have been too much. I did, however, guide him back to his bed, where he collapsed and passed out, almost instantly. I took advantage of the moment and climbed in after him, holding him tightly and he clung to me in his drunken sleep.
Lansing had also mentioned Arturo in his drunken stupor. How he missed him, but he was pissed off. He wasn’t making sense until he mentioned something about missing his chance. It wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned missing an opportunity. I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about Arturo any longer. I knew all about taking a chance, and knowing you only get one. It’s when you want a second that you get hurt. My sister had been evidence of that.
I had finished my photo shoot early, as it was called off sooner than expected, due to the impending rain. I wandered to Central Park, hoping to surprise Lansing and Fleur. I hated to disappoint her. She was such an easy going child and we had been through so much together. I wanted to make up for the morning’s tantrum by trying to spend some time with her during the day. When I got near the playground, I saw her squealing with delight as Lansing pushed her on the swings. It was amazing how good he was with a child. Whatever he meant about not wanting to be a father seemed in complete contrast to the man chasing Fleur to the slide.
It was going to be hard to move back out from his place. Fleur was really taken by him. I had to admit it was pleasant to rely on him so quickly to take Fleur, rather than continue to struggle with her then drag her to Clare’s. I was getting too comfortable myself with Lansing Lotte and it wasn’t good for me. It wasn’t good for us: Fleur and I. I was grateful for Lansing’s help, but I just had to get out of his home before I was in too deep.
I raised the camera I had borrowed from Kevin to snap a couple photos of Lansing and Fleur. They looked like they could have been father and daughter, except I knew who Fleur’s father was, and she looked nothing like him. Thank goodness, or it would have been too painful a reminder.
After several shots, I reminded myself that I would have to clear the camera again. I needed to remember to download images to my online files. I’d have to see if I could use Lansing’s computer, as I had already cleared the camera from the morning’s shoot. I followed their exit from the park, ready to sneak up and surprise them, when I saw Guinevere DeGrance approach Lansing. There was something about her body language, and the way he seemed to be nervously telling her something, that made me pause. I snapped one photo of them. With Fleur in the picture, they would have made the perfect family image.
I was surprised to see Guinie. I hadn’t seen her since the funeral. She smiled at Fleur and me holding hands and looked up to meet my eyes.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Doing okay, I guess.” I squeezed Fleur’s hand and looked down at her innocent eyes. She was swinging my hands like she belonged attached to me.
“Hello. Fleur, right?” Guinie said squatting down to be level with her. Fleur stepped behind my legs for a moment, suddenly acting shy.
“Where’s her mother?” Guinie added.
“She’s at work. Lila’s a photographer.”
I noticed Guinie flinch, for some reason, and she stood back up to my height. It was awkward to be in Central Park with Fleur and Guinie. I felt a conflict I hadn’t felt before. I was wrongly drawn to Guinie, but I felt like Fleur was holding me solid. I took strength from her tiny fingers.
“I need to tell you something.”
Guinie crossed her arms over her stomach, like I’d seen her do many times. She was shielding herself, as if she knew that I was about to give her bad news.
I ran a hand through my hair and held it on the back of my neck.
“I think I saw Arturo.”
Her hand shook as she slowly brought it to her mouth. She covered her lips. Lips I knew were sweet and tender, to hold back what could have been a sigh, a sob, or a scream. It was done in slow motion, and it was like words were frozen inside her. She hadn’t even blinked.
“On Halloween, I went to Camlann.”
A tear slipped out her eye and she didn’t move to wipe it clean.
“When you called me, I was there.”
Guinie hadn’t flinched. Not a nod, not a sound. I decided the rest had to be rushed like pulling off a Band-Aid.
“He was there. I was backing up and he was there. I’m sure it was him. He didn’t speak to me. He disappeared…” I let my voice trail. We knew he’d disappeared. What would be new to us would be to know for certain he was alive.
“Guinie?” I reached out for her cheek, which was covered with tears. She let me wipe them clean for a moment, before it registered that I was touching her and she pulled back.
“I have to go there,” she said. “I need to see for myself.”
“I don’t know if he’s really there. I just know that I saw him. I think.”
Guinie’s monotone response and her shaking body gave me concern. Maybe I had told her too much without facts. It was too unknown.
“What do you mean ‘you think’?”
“I saw him, or who I think was him. I’m not certain it was him. And I don’t know if he’s staying in the house or…well, I don’t know anything.” I began to retract what I had said.
“How can you not know?” Her voice was rising.
“Well, there’s been a few things going on,” I snippily replied.
She finally blinked as if she was awakening.
“I’m sorry. This is…I have to go…” she said, shaking her head as she took a step back.
“I’ll go with you,” I said stepping toward her.
“No,” she said, putting her hands out in front of her. “No, I need to go alone. I need to find him.” She took another step back, turned on her heels and walked away briskly without looking back.
In the distance I saw Lila approaching us. She was
walking toward me, a large smile on her face, but it looked a bit forced until she got closer, then her smile slowly drained away.
“What’s wrong?” she said, her eyes shifting from me to Fleur, almost as if inspecting us both to make sure we were intact.
“I just saw Guinie.”
“Oh,” Lila seemed relieved. She bent for Fleur and gave her a big hug. Fleur hung on and Lila scooped her up in her arms, jiggling to adjust her to her hip. Her camera bag dangled off the other side of her and she looked unbalanced. I suddenly felt unbalanced myself without Fleur’s hand as my anchor.
“Here,” I said reaching out for Fleur, who wrapped her arms around Lila, burying her face into Lila’s neck. Lila instinctively kissed Fleur’s cheek. I had a strange feeling of being jealous of a child and I shook my head to rid the thought.
“What happened with Guinie?” Lila asked, as we began to walk toward the exit of the park.
“I told her I saw Arturo.”
Lila stopped.
“You did? How did she react?”
“She ran off, saying she had to go see for herself.”
I paused for a moment.
“You don’t seem surprised. To know I saw Arturo.”
It was Lila’s turn to be silent.
“You told me,” she finally said.
“I did?”
“Yes, in your drunken state, when I was…when we were…well, you started saying his name over and over.”
We were both quiet as we crossed the street. I was embarrassed already that I had tried to kiss her, and then she told me I cried. Suddenly, I learned that I was saying Arturo’s name. I didn’t want to know anymore.
“I wanted to apologize for that,” I said, as we walked slowly toward our building. I’d found out that morning that my company would have Lila’s and the other tenants apartments restored in three months. She would be staying with me a little longer and I needed to make amends for my behavior.
