Silk

by Heidi McLaughlin

“Yes.”

  I set my plate down and walked over. “I need to ask you another personal question, a very personal question.”

  “Okay…” She sipped her wine. “Go ahead.”

  “We’ve been having sex since what? Late January? It’s about to be May…”

  “That’s not a question.”

  “I can’t think of one week when we didn’t have sex at least once.”

  “Also not a question.”

  “Why haven’t you gotten your period?”

  She spluttered her wine into the air. “What?”

  “You heard me.” I wrapped my arms around her waist. “I’m not complaining. I just want to know why you’ve never mentioned anything about your time of the month.”

  “Oh my god! You ask the worst personal—”

  “And you always try to change the subject. I’m waiting…”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking me about menstruation! Do you have any sense of shame or—”

  “Claire…”

  “Ugh…” She shook her head. “I was really depressed after my divorce. I can’t put how depressed into words, but… I couldn’t get out of bed, I had to force myself to eat, and I… I just couldn’t function…So um, after I’d lost about ten pounds from wasting away, I made myself go to the doctor and he prescribed some antidepressants. One of the side effects was irregular periods and—Do I really need to go into this?”

  “You do. I need to know.”

  She sighed. “I got my period every day for the first two months and they swore that was typical for first time dosage. Then I got it for six more months, and then it just stopped. I kept taking the medicine for a year after that, but when I decided to stop, it never came back…They ran test after test and said that everything was normal, that I was perfectly fine. They said that I may experience spotting from time to time, but I’ll probably never get a full period again. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic.”

  She rolled her eyes and stepped out of my embrace. “Which picture is of your sister Hayley?” She walked towards the fireplace.

  “The one on the left.”

  “She looks just like you…” She took the picture off the mantle and looked at it. She didn’t say anything, but I knew why she was scrutinizing it.

  At first glance, Hayley was just a beautiful blue eyed girl in a yellow sundress. But upon further notice, you could see the hundreds of red lined scars and cuts that sat on her wrists; they completely covered her arms.

  “That’s the main reason why I can’t forgive my parents so easily…” I cleared my throat. “Hayley started cutting herself once we were put in separate foster homes. That’s how she dealt with not having any family around...I’ve paid to have the majority of the marks removed, but she insists on keeping the ones on her arms.”

  “I’m so sorry…Is that a Scrabble necklace she’s wearing?”

  I smiled. “It is. She’s the captain of her school’s Scrabble team. Fifty thousand dollars in tuition every year, and she wants to play Scrabble. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

  She laughed. “Do you two play when she visits you?”

  “There wouldn’t be a point. She’d beat me in seconds. The only game I can beat her in is Monopoly, but only because that’s my favorite game.”

  “Ashley and Caroline beat me at that all the time. Even when I cheat.”

  “On family game night?”

  “Yeah…” She put the picture back on the shelf and slowly walked over to me, giving me a look that would make me do anything for her. Then she leaned in for a kiss.

  I wanted to kiss her back, needed to kiss her back, but I didn’t.

  I turned away and sighed. “It’s seven thirty. I should take you home now.”

  I pulled my Murcielago outside of her house and turned off the engine. “Greg parked your car three houses down. Is that alright?”

  “Yes…”

  “Okay. Well, I’ll see you after work tomorrow.”

  “No, you won’t,” she said. “I’ll be busy all week.”

  “You know that already?”

  “I do…” She looked up at me, giving me that sultry look again.

  God, she needs to go…Now…

  “Well, I’ll see you when you’re not busy.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened my door, but she grabbed my shoulder.

  “Wait…Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “You haven’t kissed me all day…Are you going to kiss me goodnight?”

  “No.”

  “What?” She looked stunned. “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want to.”

  “Is this because I haven’t told my daughters about us?”

  I laughed. “No, even though I’m pretty sure they know you’ve been dating someone. You could at least admit it. They’re sixteen, not six.”

  “Is it because I was quiet at dinner?”

  “I enjoy our silent dinners.” I reached over and caressed her face. “You know that.”

  “Well, you’re going to be the only one that regrets this lack of goodnight kiss, Jonathan. While you’re lying in bed thinking about how you should’ve kissed me, I’ll be too busy to think about you.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes. My team is staying late all week, so I won’t be able to slip away into your secret rooms. I probably won’t see you until next weekend—maybe even the week after that. I need to catch up with my other friends now that I think about it.”

  “Do you see me crying?”

  “You are mad at me about something! What is it?”

  “I’m not mad at you.” I’m mad that I’m falling for you…

  “Well…” She unbuckled her seatbelt and looked around.

  She leaned forward to kiss me, but I held her still and whispered against her lips. “I didn’t kiss you today because I made a promise to myself yesterday.”

  “What promise?”

  “You don’t need to know.”

  “Tell me…”

  I didn’t say anything. I just watched as she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

  “Jonathan, you’re being childish again. If there’s nothing wrong, and if—”

  I pressed my finger against her mouth. “I promised that the next time I kissed you, I’d be kissing both sets of your lips.”

  She gasped and blushed bright red.

  “Goodnight, Claire. I’ll see you next weekend.”

  Chapter 18

  Claire

  “You looked sexy at this morning’s meeting. I love when you wear black.” Jonathan texted me.

  “Thank you :-).”

  “Can I see you tonight?”

  I hesitated to respond. “Depends on if I finish all my reading or not.”

  “Bring it with you. I have work to do as well.”

  “You seducing me isn’t real work.”

  His text came back within seconds: “You’re right. That doesn’t take much effort at all. It’ll be strictly professional tonight. I was serious about that promise.”

  “I don’t believe you...”

  “You should. Greg will pick you up at eight.”

  I set my phone down and smiled. I was getting ready to finally mention Jonathan to Ashley and Caroline. I’d been holding it off for long enough, and since our “exclusive dating” arrangement was starting to resemble some sort of relationship, I wanted them to be okay with it.

  I set snacks and drinks on the dining room table like I always did on family meeting nights, and waited for them to get home from cheerleading practice.

  “Mom! Mom!” They both came running into the kitchen, talking at once. “Did I tell you about this?” “Did you know the training was this Saturday?” “Can I borrow twenty dollars?” “Can I have twenty dollars?” “If you give her twenty can I have forty?” “What about—”

  I usually waited until they realized that I couldn’t understand them when they did this, but my blank stare didn’t seem to be working today.

>   They were blabbering at full speed, flipping their silky red hair over their shoulders at the exact same moments—never stopping to catch a breath.

  “Okay, okay! One at a time, please. Who was talking first?”

  “Me!” Ashley clapped. “I think the first order of business tonight needs to be discussing me and Caroline getting separate cars.”

  “Okay.” I sat down. I have to hear this…

  Caroline shrugged and sat down across from me.

  “So…” Ashley said, smiling. “As you know, we’re sixteen years old and we’re both straight A students. We hardly get in trouble unlike most kids our age and we’re both members of the Junior Aviation Scholars Program—which is only open to ten kids per year for the entire country! And we both have spots!”

  “Go on…”

  “So, we need separate cars.”

  “What? That’s it? That’s your entire argument, Ashley?”

  “Um, yeah. That sums it up pretty well I think. What do you think, Caroline?”

  Her co-conspirator nodded.

  “Okay well, I’m aware that you’re both sixteen and that you’re great students. It’s your job to be. I’m also well aware that you don’t get into much trouble, but it’s because I don’t tolerate any. And I’m very glad that you’re part of the—” I took a deep breath and paused. “Junior Aviation Scholars Program and I recall buying you both new pilot outfits once you received those spots. However, seeing as though you don’t pay your own insurance for the car you drive now, are involved in the same exact activities, and aren’t trying to buy your own car with your own money, you can either enjoy the shared car or give it back to me. Your choice.”

  Ashley rolled her eyes and sat down.

  “What about letting one of us borrow your car on the weekends then?” Caroline scrolled through her phone. “Would that work? What if we came up with a car sharing schedule or something? I think there’s an app for—”

  “No. Car conversation is over… Now, I need to speak with you both about something very important. I want you to know that I’m currently seeing someone—someone I think I really like. I’m not sure if I’ll ever let him meet you or not, but—”

  “Is he hot?” “Where’d you meet him?” “Is that why you’ve been smiling so much lately?” “And going out so much?” “You don’t want him to meet us?” “Is it because he’s not hot?” “You’re dating someone ugly?” “Why would you do that?” “You’re so pretty!”

  I sighed. “Please let me finish…I met him at work, and just so you’re aware, he’s a bit younger than me...”

  They stopped stuffing their mouths with junk and exchanged puzzled looks. Then they both stared at me—like I was some type of art exhibit.

  They did this routine quite often—so often that I didn’t think they realized how intense their joint stare-fest looked. Most of the time it meant that they were thinking about something, and since I was convinced that they shared a brain, it usually took them a while to formulate a verbal thought.

  Caroline tilted her head to the side. “When you say younger, do you mean younger like, regular younger?”

  “Or do you mean you could go to prison if we called the cops on you younger? “ Ashley raised her eyebrow. “Because if you want us to keep quiet we will, but you’re definitely going to have to re-consider getting us—”

  “What! Why would you even—” I stopped. I didn’t need to stress myself out over their warped line of thinking. “He’s eleven years younger than me…”

  They looked at each other and laughed hysterically. Then they started talking to one other as if I wasn’t sitting in the room: “So… He’s basically thirty!” “What’s so wrong with that?” “I don’t know…Isn’t thirty like middle aged? Or is that fifty?” “I think people should stop counting their birthdays after they turn twenty five. After that you’re pretty irrelevant and you just start looking bad and letting yourself go…” “Do you think the guy she’s dating is hot?” “Probably not. She didn’t say he was hot. If he was hot she would’ve said that first…” “Did she tell us his name?” “It’s probably Taylor. That’s a nice thirty year old name.” “Taylor? I like it. I wonder if—”

  “Thank you both for listening…” I cut off their ridiculous conversation. “You two are okay with me dating someone?”

  “Um yeah! It’s about time! You deserve someone amazing.” Ashley stood up and hugged me. “Whoever he is, I hope he can talk you into buying us separate cars for our senior year!”

  Caroline walked over and hugged me too. “I agree. It’s good seeing you smile again—even if the guy isn’t hot…”

  “So, the top four ideas for the sTablet slogan are—you know what? These are all terrible, aren’t they?” Mr. Barnes laughed.

  “Yes. They really are.” I couldn’t help but laugh too. “Let’s just call it a night.”

  “At nine o’ clock? Sure you don’t want to stay until midnight like yesterday? I’m starting to feel like corporate is my second home.”

  “Positive.” I closed my folder and stood up. “I actually have plans for a change. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  I walked out of his office and headed into mine, moving Jonathan’s latest flower arrangements to one side of the room.

  I’d given up on asking him to stop sending them. He sent at least two hundred blooms a day. He’d even hired a horticulture expert; she came in every day at noon to prune the old ones and water the new ones.

  I took off my heels and changed into a pair of slippers, wishing that I could somehow fast forward to the end of the sTablet campaign. I was working double the hours, and while the new “necessary overtime for managers” policy had been quite beneficial for my savings account, it drained most of my body’s energy.

  I put my head down on the desk and my phone rang. Ashley.

  “Yes, Ashley?” I answered.

  “Is it okay if me and Caroline spend the night at Jasmine’s house tonight? I know you wanted to watch a movie with us later, but it is a Friday. And I know you’re already going to say something about us driving late, so Jasmine’s mom said she could pick us up and drop us off tomorrow.”

  “I thought you two had a junior pilot seminar tomorrow. Didn’t you beg me to pay the two hundred dollar registration fee?”

  “It was pushed back because a few people failed the simulation test.”

  I sighed. “Is this sleepover coed?”

  “I didn’t say it was a sleepover, mom. It’s—”

  “Ashley…”

  “There might be a few guys there…”

  Of course. “Have Jasmine’s mother call me. Then I’ll—”

  “Hold on! She’s right here!”

  I rolled my eyes and introduced myself to a soft-spoken Mrs. Hines. She was a few years younger than me, but from what I remembered about her at the mother-daughter cheerleading retreats, she seemed to have a good set of morals.

  I made sure that no boys would be sleeping in the same room with the girls, and after she assured me that she and her husband would be taking turns to check on the party, I gave in and agreed to let them go.

  “Hello, beautiful. What are you doing?” Jonathan texted me as soon as I hung up.

  “About to head home and take a long shower…”

  “You’re still at corporate?”

  “Unfortunately. What are you doing?”

  “Coming downstairs to see you.”

  I shut down my computer and stood up. I stacked all the sTablet notes into a pile and crossed another date off my calendar.

  My eyes veered towards the box that held the last Friday of the month, where the words “Jonathan’s birthday” were written in small print.

  I had no idea what to get for him; he seemed to have everything already. As a matter of fact, anytime I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, he would simply change the subject.

  “Hey.” He walked into my office. “Are you still too busy for me?”

  “Actually, I was supp
osed to be watching a movie with my girls later, but they just ditched me for a coed sleepover. Can you believe that?”

  “I can’t believe you’re surprised.” He laughed. “What movie were you going to watch?”

  “Some teen movie about vampires, evil curses, and—I don’t know. They picked it out.”

  “Hmmm. You should spend the night with me then. You haven’t seen my house yet.”

  How many houses does he have?

  “No thanks.” I shook my head.

  “No thanks? Why?”

  “Because I don’t feel like having sex with you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Even if that was true, we don’t always have to have sex, Claire. You know that.”

  I did know that. And I was scared of that.

  The days when we didn’t have sex were more intimate than the days when we did. Jonathan had the most thoughtful ways of showing his affection, and no matter what I did to try and resist, I only ended up giving in and falling further into him.

  Like this past Monday, when I told him I skipped breakfast because I was running late and he had the chef team of True Blue Café deliver me a plate of gourmet crepes and fruit. Or Wednesday, when I wasted coffee on my favorite suit and he sent Greg out to buy me two new ones. Or maybe it was yesterday, when he noticed I’d been standing in heels all day and massaged my feet until I fell asleep.

  “So, is that a yes to coming home with me?” He smiled.

  “No, it’s still a no…I’m exhausted and I need to shower and—”

  “Hush.” He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and walked me out of the room.

  We took the elevator to the garage and he led me over to his newest car—a black Aston Martin.

  He opened the passenger door and I hesitated.

  I’d spent the night with him before, but that was in his corporate bedroom—on his sofa sleeper, not at his house where he would undoubtedly and successfully seduce me. That was before we officially began dating, before our unexplainable connection to each other was deepened with his thoughtfulness and late night phone conversations—before I had to admit to myself that my feelings for him were growing deeper and deeper every day.

  “Is there a reason you’re not getting into the car? Is something wrong?” He raised his eyebrow.