The Story of Lansing Lotte

by L. B. Dunbar

  I still didn’t respond.

  He continued to kiss my shoulder and my neck, then snuggled his nose through my hair.

  “Not tonight. But I’m going to have you. And you’re going to have me, Lila. And nothing is going to distract us.”

  My whole body was on high alert.

  Nipples peaked, lower body moist, and my mouth watered. Warm kisses were enflaming the skin on my neck as I came awake. I wasn’t used to having a man spend the night. I’d actually never had that happen, so I was unprepared to be awakened in such a manner, and even less prepared for the voice that spoke.

  “Lila, can I have something to eat?”

  I pushed upward and Lansing came with me. Sitting up, he pulled the blankets to cover him, but his bare chest was still exposed. I stared at Fleur as if I was dreaming her standing at the end of my bed.

  “Good morning, Mr. Lansing,” she said and giggled, despite the greenish-white of her face. Fleur still looked sickly, but I took her wanting to eat something as a good sign.

  “Fleur, sweetheart, why don’t you go turn on the television. I’ll be out in just a minute, okay?”

  Fleur nodded her head and exited my room.

  I glanced over at Lansing, who was still watching the open door. He ran a hand over his face and started to laugh softly.

  “Well,” he said, “good morning to you.”

  I laughed too, as my body started to calm down. My heartbeat slowing and my momentary arousal dissipating. It was a good thing we had been interrupted because regardless of my body wanting to give into Lansing, my mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that he was here. In my bed. After being with Guinevere.

  I was convinced he had sex with her again, as I slept restlessly next to him. I tried to slip out of my bed to dress for Fleur, when he caught my waist.

  “Good morning,” he said to me, staring into my eyes. He was watching my face, examining me for something, but he must have decided he couldn’t find it and he let go.

  “Coffee and eggs?” I asked, as I stood and bent over to pick up my leggings. When I turned back to look at Lansing, he was watching me again.

  “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?”

  I laughed bitterly.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  I wasn’t fishing for further compliments. I just wasn’t expecting his comment. I was never the gorgeous one. Sara was.

  He stepped out of bed and crossed the floor in two steps. Before I knew it I was up against the wall.

  “You are gorgeous,” he said again to me, forcing me to look him in the eye.

  I wanted to believe him. I did. I was just a bit overwhelmed with his sudden interest.

  Before I could answer him, his mouth was on mine with tender, but inviting kisses that teased me. He leaned forward, pressing me further against the wall and deeper into him. He pulled back, almost as quickly as he started and looked at me.

  “Good morning,” he whispered.

  “Good morning,” I said in a voice I didn’t recognize. I sounded winded, breathless, and wanton. I did want him. I just didn’t think I could trust him.

  He let me leave the room to tend to Fleur, and I was preparing myself for his exit. He was going to leave again, just like he did last night. We still hadn’t talked yet, and I felt like there was so much left unsaid between us.

  He came out of my bedroom dressed and looked like a new man. He smiled genuinely and I couldn’t recall a time when he seemed so relaxed. So carefree. I felt both good and bad. Good that I could witness it; bad that it wasn’t me that caused it.

  I was on edge as I made coffee and eggs for us, and some dry toast for Fleur. I had a photo assignment, despite it being only a few days before Christmas. I needed to get ready. Clare said she would come down for a few hours as I didn’t want to move Fleur yet.

  “What’s the plan for today?” Lansing said, as he clapped his hands and whipped down Fleur’s hair as she sat next to him on the couch.

  “I have to work,” I answered back. When he didn’t respond, I thought he didn’t hear me, but I turned around and almost knocked into him.

  “What do you mean you have to work? It’s almost Christmas.”

  “Well, it isn’t Christmas yet, and I have an engagement.”

  “Engagement? Where?”

  Here it came, I thought. He didn’t trust me.

  “I’ve been hired to cover a charity visit to Kingston Hospital. Janice George is visiting children and passing out presents. I was asked to come take some publicity shots.”

  Lansing narrowed his eyes at me.

  “I thought she was in rehab.”

  “Was is the key word. Now she’s trying to change her image.”

  He was silent for a moment.

  “What about Fleur?”

  “Clare is coming down.”

  He hesitated for a second before he spoke.

  “I could watch her?”

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed.

  “What’s so funny about that?”

  “The last time you babysat for me, two different women traipsed through your apartment.”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t think he could do it. His eyes fluttered and the sparkle died a bit. I’d hurt his feelings.

  “Things are different now,” he said softly, and he trailed a finger around my face. I wanted to believe him.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him as a friend to be here for Fleur, but images of Lansing with Guinevere came into my mind, and that old feeling slowly crept through me.

  I trusted Lansing. I did. Just not as a lover, to me.

  She didn’t trust me. I could see it in her eyes, but it didn’t matter to me. I had a lot to prove to her. She didn’t believe that I hadn’t been with Guinevere. I had to admit I wouldn’t have believed me either, except I knew the truth. I hadn’t. Guinie and I parted ways with me kissing only her forehead. I told her: “I love you, but not in this lifetime.” I had my chance and Fate stepped in the way – twice. I wasn’t going to lose my best friend because I took his girl. I was probably going to lose him because I slept with her, but I couldn’t keep her because her heart belonged to him. I needed my heart to belong to another.

  I still had concerns about Lila, as well. We hadn’t talked yet. We desperately needed to clear the air about a few things. My body wasn’t exactly betraying me, but I needed to calm it down because it wanted Lila – truth or no truth – and that was no way to start things.

  When I told her I was heading back to my place to grab a few items, she gave me another look that told me she didn’t believe I’d be back. She must have really believed it too, because I showed up to find Clare opening the door for me.

  “Lansing?”

  “Hey. I’m here to watch Fleur.”

  Clare looked me up and down. She wasn’t coming onto me like older women do, she was sizing me up in other ways. She looked like she didn’t want to trust me, either.

  I pushed past her slowly, letting her continue to gape at me. I found Fleur on the couch, set up for a day of television with a blanket over her, her pillows propping her up and a small plate with crackers and a mini-can of Seven-Up on a makeshift table. I took a second to really look around and realized that Lila’s apartment was sparse. Knowing she had just moved back in, ahead of schedule, and hadn’t had anything remaining after the fire, it was a miracle she had the two beds, a couch and a television. She needed more to make it her space again.

  “Lansing?” her startled voice spoke behind me.

  “I told you I’d be back,” I said, staring at her face. While she had been good at shutting down weeks ago around Thanksgiving, her face told a full story. She didn’t believe a word I said.

  “I know…I just…I thought…last night…oh, never mind,” she muttered.

  She hastily walked over to Fleur and knelt before her.

  “I gotta go, Sweet Pea. Will you be okay with Clare or Mr. Lansing?”

  Fleur only shook her head in response,
her eyes entranced by something on the television. Lila kissed her forehead, brushed back her hair, and looked tenderly at Fleur. I might have been a bit jealous, if it wasn’t that Fleur was a sick child.

  As Lila stood and headed for the door, I followed.

  “Hey,” I said reaching for her arm. She stopped and turned toward me.

  “I’m going to prove you wrong.”

  “What?” she asked, her face full of questions.

  “I’m going to prove you wrong. That’s all I’m saying.” I leaned in and kissed her cheek, then rubbed my nose along her neck. I heard her groan softly. I was thrilled that she wasn’t completely closed off to me. She wanted me, too.

  “I’ll see you later?” she said, as she pulled back. It was more of a question than a statement.

  She would, as I was never more determined to prove that I was a good guy, after all.

  I questioned his change in behavior. He had always been a bit attentive, and had a tendency to get into my space. I continued to think back to him holding me as we slept. He wrapped over me, holding my hip and letting his hand slip to my stomach. If I moved in the slightest, he pulled me closer to him. I wondered what he dreamt of. I hoped it was me and not Guinevere.

  My concentration was unfocused as I followed Janice George, one of the best female voices of the modern age, through the children’s department of Kingston Hospital. She seemed gracious enough as she greeted nurses, hugged parents, and held children. She smiled at the patients and the idea was to catch her in candid moments of compassion. The visit lasted only an hour. I was supposed to submit the images to her PA by that afternoon for approval, and then immediate release. The check would help with the new furniture I needed. Will Galehaut had already been generous in purchasing me two beds, plus the couch and television, but we needed a few more things. I wanted Christmas to be special for Fleur, so I was holding off on more items until the after-holiday sales.

  I was getting ready to exit the children’s ward when I noticed an older gentleman enter a stairwell by the main entrance. It shouldn’t have seemed strange. There were tons of older gentlemen in a hospital, but that one was vaguely familiar. I don’t know what made me do it, but I followed him. It was one of the craziest things I’d ever done. He went up three flights before he exited. A special scan key was needed to enter the section. I was just about to return down the flights when the door opened again. I grabbed it, clearly expecting to be told I couldn’t enter the floor, but the maintenance man only passed without acknowledging me.

  I slipped inside the door to find the floor relatively quiet. It seemed to be a private ward, and I worried that I might have entered the psych floor. I kept walking down the plush carpeted hall hoping to find the man. The area didn’t seem very hospitalish. A sitting space was centered at the end of the hallway in front of a large picture window. I walked up to the glass and caught a breathtaking view of the city and the park. It was a juxtaposition of modernization and nature. The world was slowly getting blanketed in white, and I was lost in thought until I felt the presence of someone behind me.

  “What are you doing up here?” a gruff voice inquired.

  Strange mismatched eyes met mine when I turned to the voice. I didn’t know which one to look at first. He was a rather nice looking, older gentleman with his trimmed white hair and a white beard that made him look like a biker Santa Claus. He wore loose fitting jeans with work boots and a purple vest over a white dress shirt, which seemed odd, yet slightly complimentary to his coloring. He smiled slowly at me as he saw me take him in. I recognized him, but I couldn’t recall his name.

  “Can I help you with something?” he asked.

  “I…I thought I recognized you, but forgive me, I can’t recall how,” I giggled with nervousness.

  “I don’t recall either, but perhaps it has to do with some photographs,” he said eyeing my camera over my shoulder. “Those aren’t allowed up here, you know?”

  I looked down at my camera then back to meet his two toned eyes.

  “I was taking pictures in the children’s ward.” It sounded stupid. I didn’t know how else to explain myself. I suddenly felt very self-conscious that I had followed him.

  He didn’t say anything further, just waited me out.

  “Well, I apologize again for not recognizing you and seeming a bit stalkerish,” I said as I started to pass him. “Merry Christmas.”

  He smiled kindly at me, still not volunteering his name.

  “Merry Christmas,” he replied. When I got to the exit for the stairs, he called after me, “And ‘Merry Christmas’ to the boys, as well.”

  I smiled sheepishly, waved, and pressed the industrial handle to enter the stairwell. When the door clicked into place, locking me out, I decided I might have entered the psych ward after all. I had no idea who were the boys he referred to.

  When I returned to my apartment, I was surprised to find that Christmas had arrived a few days early. My apartment suddenly had a tree in a base, with no ornaments, but boxes of lights lay on the floor.

  “What’s this?” I laughed.

  “Your place is dull. No holiday spirit, and we need holiday spirit,” Lansing said, looking down at Fleur who still lay on the couch, but watched him with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. A twinkle had come back into her eyes. She looked like an angel, with her hands folded under her head, as she lay on her side. She smiled at me.

  “Mr. Lansing said we needed a tree.”

  “You didn’t leave to get a tree, did you?”

  “No trust, Lila,” he laughed, but there was a bit of innuendo in his voice. He decided to respond with more detail.

  “I ordered a tree and had it delivered. Called the hardware store on 72nd and had them deliver a case of Christmas lights, but you still need ornaments.”

  I stared at the evergreen. My apartment smelled amazing, and a wave of nostalgia for my father and my sister hit me. My eyes filled with liquid, and I blinked several times before Lansing stood in front of me.

  “What did I do wrong?” he whispered, as he used his thumb to brush away a traitorous tear.

  “Nothing,” I sighed. “It’s actually the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. For us,” I said nodding at Fleur.

  “Well, I think letting you live in my apartment might top a Christmas tree,” he laughed, but his smile fell a little as he continued to stare at me.

  “No. It doesn’t,” I said softly.

  He leaned toward me, filling in my space like only he could do.

  “I want to kiss you, right now,” he said quietly, “but I think Fleur saw enough this morning.”

  I laughed a little and he stepped back, smiling down at Fleur. She was closing her eyes and she probably needed a nap.

  “Fleur, Sweet Pea, nap time.”

  “I want to see the lights on the tree,” she whined without conviction.

  “We can wait, Ladybug,” Lansing said and he walked over to scoop her up while kissing her forehead. I noticed for the hundredth time how affectionate he was with her. He carried her to her room and I followed to help with the covers.

  When we reentered the living room, I sat on the couch and I felt the weighted air between us. It was a strange mixture of sexual tension and unspoken aggression. Moments ago he wanted to kiss me, but the energy in the room was changing as he paced before me rubbing his hands down the sides of his jeans.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  “We need to talk,” and “I’ll call you,” have to be two of the most dreaded four word sentences in the English language. I used them often and it always led to disaster. I was prepared for it to go that way again, regardless of how badly I wanted Lila. I couldn’t have predicted how the conversation would turn, setting a chain of events into fast forward motion.

  “I’m gonna start,” I said as I stopped pacing, noticing that Lila’s eyes were watching me like I was a caged animal at the zoo. I felt trapped, but I knew that I needed to say what needed to be said.

&n
bsp; “I slept with Guinie.”

  Lila’s sucked in breath was so deep she choked.

  “No,” I clarified racing to her and squatting down before her.

  “I slept with Guinie…before…you know when. But I want you to know that it was only once. And I can see now that it was wrong, Lila. I was wrong. Guinie was wrong. For me.”

  Her hands were ice cold in mine. It was more than her still fingers that froze me out.

  “Lila, I don’t know if I should start at the beginning or work my backward, but I want you to know everything.”

  Lila did know bits and pieces, but I needed to start at the beginning: eight years ago about a quiet, shy senior and a sweet, young sophomore who he dared to kiss. I then told her about my learning the truth of my foster mother, learning the death of my father and the inheritance of my family’s business. I also explained how I met my real mother and that’s what prevented me from following through with Guinie.

  The two situations were always linked in my mind, but I never could have predicted that Guinie would fall for Arturo. I explained how I loved him like a brother, but I knew he was a player. Guinie seemed too innocent for his dangerous lifestyle, but she fell, and fell hard. Within months they were engaged and my head was spinning. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I told Lila what happened with Guinie: the rescue and the kiss. Finally, I told her about the breakdown with Guinie and the slip in judgment.

  “The strangest thing to explain is how empty I felt with her.”

  Lila flinched and I knew she worried I would share details I didn’t care to repeat.

  “It was never going to work. I can’t explain why I never saw it. Until I met you. You were always trying to put things in perspective. Be kind to Layne. Marry Elaine. Think of Arturo. I didn’t. That’s been my problem. From the moment of the kiss with Guinie at eighteen, I got sucked into a whirlwind I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t have to throw myself into women, they threw themselves at me, and I was always searching for the distraction.”

  Lila pulled back from me, but I didn’t let her go. I had dropped down to my knees and forced her legs to separate to allow me in between as she sat on the couch. I was in her space. I held her hands, forcing her to stay connected to me as I poured out my sins like a confessor to a priest. Lila listened. That was what I loved about her. I could admit it. I loved her in some unexplained way.