The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Dean ...” Her whisper shot into him with the effect of an echo chamber, ringing through his head to his heart, shivering every nerve of his body.

  Ellen touched her lips lightly to his ear calling out his name again. Just as she slipped her hands slightly under the waist of his jeans, she felt her wrist abruptly grabbed and removed. She shook her head, closing her eyes tighter wanting him not to pull back and Dean didn’t.

  With his step to her, he pulled Ellen into him, pressing his hand firmly to the side of her face and holding her cheek against his. So close they were that even the slightest movement of their eyes could be felt against the others. It was almost a forceful hold, keeping Ellen to him. His forefinger pressed to her temple, his thumb rested on the corner of her mouth, and Dean’s voice was soft and raspy as he spoke with emotion into her ear, “Let me be the one to do this.” He swallowed the thickness of what he felt that had formed in his throat. “I have to be the one to do this. Let me ... lead you.”

  Slow moving and intensely, he kissed her, the sweep of his mouth so in control of hers, not letting Ellen stop or pull back, not even for a second, not even to breathe. His hands moved to the collar of her robe. His fingernails scratched faintly as he pulled the garment just below her shoulders, bracing Ellen to him, feeling the skin of her bare chest against his. At that moment, eyes open or closed, he realized, being with Ellen was the one thing in which he didn’t need his sight. His heart and emotions would be his eyes. They would guide him further than his vision ever could.

  <><><><>

  Perky and bubbly, Jenny Matoose walked down the street on her way to Dean’s house. Dressed for her ‘date’ with her husband, excited about being the distributor to all of the women, giving to each of them, their very own pair of Beginnings’ first women’s flat shoe.

  Ellen was the last to get them as she was the only one not around. In one hand she held that pair of shoes and in the other, the color swatch samples of the bridesmaids’ gowns. She swung the shoes back and forth so happily, feeling so pretty as she walked. Dressed in a long shirt that Jenny felt hid her extra weight and a short skirt that showed what she felt was her best asset. Jenny walked predominantly too. Why wouldn’t she? She was proud of her new shoes, walking strong and clicking the hard soles against the concrete in an echoing beat on the quiet street. ‘Clickity-clack, clickity-clack’ she bounced in her loud stride like a showing-off schoolgirl. She hoped that Ellen would pick the second shade of blue, that was the one Jenny liked most. Attached to the swatch was a cute little note. Jenny giggled as she read it one more time, moving closer to Dean’s. Clickity-clack, clickity-clack, Jenny walked on.

  Ellen’s grunt and struggle made Dean laugh. “I think ...” She grunted again. “I think I have it.”

  “Just get up.”

  “No.” Her face cringed as she extended a reach to the couch for a blanket. “I think ... ha!” She smiled. “Got it.”

  “Cramp, cramp, ow, cramp in my toe.”

  Dean’s hand met the blanket and he did his best to adjust it over him and Ellen as they sat on the floor.

  “Should we get dressed?”

  “No. Not yet. Please?”

  “OK.” She ran her hand down his face then kissed him. “Can I ask you a question? You can’t get upset with me for asking because I want to know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They say ... they say when you can’t see your other senses take over. Was making love to me different?”

  “Actually ... yeah. Yeah it was.” Dean had a peaceful look on his face. “Instead of just feeling it, I felt it. I really felt it.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Ellen was quiet for second then she huffed. “Boy, I feel cheated.”

  “I cannot believe you just said that to me.” Dean’s mouth opened in shock. “I can’t ...” He was silenced by Ellen’s kiss.

  Ellen watched as he propped his head up with his hand, elbow balancing on the cushion of the couch. He faced her yet his eyes remained closed. “Dean?”

  “Hmm?” Dean responded as he ran his fingers over her face then to her neck, taking it all in, photographing it with his fingers.

  “Do you do that on purpose or can’t you help it?”

  “Touch you?”

  “No. Keep your eyes closed.”

  “I ... I guess I keep them closed on purpose. Embarrassed, I think.”

  “Why?” Ellen said. “You have the best eyes in Beginnings. They’re so green. Why hide them just because you can’t see?”

  “Because they bounce.”

  “What?” Ellen laughed.

  “They bounce. Henry said they bounce. I don’t want you to be looking at bouncing eyes.”

  Ellen laughed even harder. “They do not. Henry exaggerates. They moved more yesterday because you were more lost. Understand? They don’t move now. Open them, Dean, please.”

  Dean opened his eyes. “Better?”

  “Much. Dean ... I’m smiling at you.”

  Dean felt her mouth. “Thank you.”

  “You seem different. You seem better.”

  “I think making love to you did something to me.” He heard her snicker. “That too. But ...” He paused to smile. “It showed me that I wasn’t a helpless person, that I’m still me. Just like I had to make love to you differently, I’m gonna have to do other things differently. And just because I’m doing them differently won’t mean I’m not doing them right.”

  Ellen giggled and spoke upbeat, “Oh, Dean. Good line. Good answer. I’m impressed.”

  “Yeah, well don’t be yet. Making love was a natural instinct. Walking blindly down the street is not. It’ll take some work. But maybe ...” He leaned down and kissed her. “I can build my confidence back up?”

  “Right.”

  “What?” Dean detected the sarcasm in her voice.

  “Dean, you’re like getting a little old to be able to go round after round.”

  “I don’t get it enough, El, not to.”

  “Good point.”

  Just as Dean began to kiss her again, the opening of the front door and the shriek of surprise stopped him. “Shit. Who’s here?” he whispered.

  Jenny turned her back suddenly, covered her eyes, and rambled in a fast nervousness, “Oh, Ellen, Dean, I’m sorry. I thought you weren’t home. You said you wouldn’t be home. You said to just walk in. I wouldn’t have walked right in if I knew you were in here. I’m sorry.”

  Ellen laughed. “It’s all right, Jenny.”

  “I’ll just uh ...” Jenny, fidgeting, headed to the door. “I’ll stop back later. Sorry.” So embarrassed for just walking in, Jenny flung open the door and raced out.

  “Jenny ...” Ellen called, lifting up then plopping down. “Fuck, she took my shoes with her. I wanted them.”

  “Tell me, El.” Dean’s head emerged more from the covers, flinging his hair forward and onto his face. “What do you think she saw?”

  “For starters, your butt. It wasn’t covered by the blanket.”

  “Shit.”

  “Just kidding.”

  “Don’t do that.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair. “She did see us.”

  “Considering we’re in plain sight, yeah. We were covered though.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “There is another good thing, Dean.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, almost afraid to.

  “It’s a good thing you’re blind, because Jenny Matoose was wearing a miniskirt.”

  <><><><>

  Clickity-clack, clickity-clack. Slam! Frank’s hand hit hard on the bar when he heard it. “What the fuck is that noise?” He listened again, still angry and irritated from losing six straight dart games. It continued, getting louder and louder in the near empty Social Hall. It also got to the point that Frank had to turn around and investigate this new noise. When he did he saw the reason for it—Jenny walking in a skip across the Social Hall. “Jenny! What the fuck. Am I g
onna have to start calling you Rhoda?”

  “I hope you aren’t making a shoe reference.”

  “Well it certainly isn’t a Mary-Tyler-Moore reference.” He reached for his drink and cringed when she walked to him. “What?”

  “You are one nasty man.”

  “And you are ...” Frank couldn’t stop himself. He noticed what she wore and the man in him took over. His eyes skimmed down, looking at the little skirt she wore and her dimpling legs. Frank shuddered. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

  “Quit it about the shoes, Frank. Are you going to make fun of Ellen when she wears hers as well?” Jenny asked.

  “Ellen won’t wear them. I won’t let her.”

  Jenny laughed at him. “Oh yeah?” She held up the shoes and slammed them on the bar. “Here are Ellen’s.”

  “No way.” Frank slid them down.

  “Hers. Are you seeing her tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you give her them?”

  “No,” Frank answered abruptly. “You give her them. Weren’t you supposed to drop them off at Dean’s?”

  “I went to Dean’s but they were kind of busy.”

  Frank scoffed. “They were too busy to let you drop off hideous shoes? It was an excuse. Ellen just doesn’t want them. They were lying to you.”

  “I hardly think two people lying on the floor naked is a ...” She saw Frank look up suddenly from his drink. “A uh ... uh ... I have to go.” She spun way. “John?”

  “Jenny.” Frank jumped in her path. “What ... what did you just say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “No. What did you just say?” He didn’t get an answer. “Fuck it. I know what you said.” He started to leave.

  “Frank.” Jenny grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

  “What are they doing, Jenny?”

  “Why do you care? So what? Let it go and talk to her later.”

  “Let it ...” Frank let out a shocking breath. “Let it go? Oh, I don’t think so.” He pulled from her reach and charged out of the door.

  “Shit.” Jenny spun around confused, spotted John, and ran to him.

  “Hey, Jen, what ...” John stopped speaking when Jenny stole his phone from his belt. “What are you doing?”

  “Warning someone.” Jenny began to dial.

  <><><><>

  Laughing and wearing Dean’s shirt, Ellen bent down to the floor and picked up the swatch of color that Jenny must have dropped in her rush out. “Blue.”

  “What is?” Dean stood up zippering his pants.

  “This, see?”

  “El.”

  “Sorry. It’s a swatch of fabric so I can see the color for the bridesmaids’ dresses. It’s blue, very blue.” Her head turned to the phone ringing. “Where is the phone? Did you see it?”

  “El.”

  “Sorry. I mean ...” She moved to toward the dining room, following the sound. “Here it is.” She picked it up off the cabinet that sat between the living room and dining room. “Hello?”

  “Ellen,” Jenny said her name, grateful that she answered.

  “Jenny, you took my shoes.”

  “Ellen, listen to me. I’m sorry ...”

  “Jenny, let it go.”

  “No, listen. Frank’s on his way over. I didn’t mean to but I mentioned you and Dean were together.”

  “Oh.” Ellen spun to face Dean who stood, not knowing what expression was on her face.

  “Ellen, get dressed. Whatever you do, don’t let him catch you. He’s roused up.”

  “Jenny I ...” BOOM! The front door to Dean’s house burst open. “Shit.” Ellen hung up the phone, dropping it.

  Frank stood in the wide-open door looking around, assessing a situation that screamed answers to him. “What the fuck, El.”

  “Frank.” Ellen flew over to him as he charged forth.

  Dean felt lost. He didn’t know what way to turn. “Frank?” He took a deep breath.

  Ellen pressed her hands to Frank’s chest holding him back. “You have to leave.”

  “Fuck that. Fuck that!” His words were strong as he blared them out, “How can you do this, El? How? I thought things were happening between us. Things were happening. And you!” He spun and faced Dean. “You can’t even face me can you? I ought to nail your ass right now! You lied to me!” Frank charged toward Dean. “You lied! What was this shit you aren’t with her? What was this shit you gave me that you have no interest in her.”

  Dean turned his body as close to the point where he knew Frank’s voice was coming from. “What the hell did you expect me to tell you, Frank? Huh? The truth? No. Because you’d screw it up for me. You always screw it up for me.”

  “So you lied?”

  “And I’d lie again,” Dean huffed his words. “If you didn’t walk in here, you would never know. I wouldn’t tell you. I can’t take the chance of you trying to take her from me. I can’t. And you would, whether you want Ellen or not, you would try your hardest because you can’t accept the fact, Frank, that you are no longer a part of her life. Face it.”

  Ellen saw it. She watched the red on Frank’s face growing as Dean gave his short speech. Now was not the time for Dean to take his stand. Seeing Frank charge toward an unsuspecting Dean, Ellen dove forward, intercepting Frank’s reach, and stood before Dean. “Don’t, Frank!”

  “Move, El!”

  “I won’t let you touch him.”

  “I see.” Frank lifted his hands up in surrender.

  “No you don’t see,” Ellen snapped back.

  “I see! I see you jumping in the middle, nearly getting nailed, all to defend him.”

  “No I jumped in the middle because he can’t see you to defend himself!”

  “What?” Frank’s head twitched suddenly.

  “You heard me.”

  Frank looked past her at Dean who still didn’t look his way. “Oh bullshit!”

  “No it’s not bullshit.”

  “You’re telling me he can’t see? Bullshit. Another lie, El, another lie to cover up that what you did was wrong.”

  “It was not wrong,” Ellen argued. “You can’t come in here and pass judgment on me. You can’t.”

  “How can you stand here, half dressed, and tell me you’re not wrong? What about Henry?”

  “What about him?”

  Frank ran his hand down his face. “You live with him. He’s your primary relationship. You sleeping with Dean is not wrong?”

  “How can it be wrong when Henry knows?”

  Crushed! Frank felt that more so than if he had gotten hit. “Henry doesn’t know.”

  “Henry knows,” Ellen told him. “Henry’s known for a while. I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have crossed the line with Dean, if Henry didn’t know. The whole reason Henry and I got married was so I could freely be with Dean.”

  Fire raged through Frank upon hearing her tell him that. He stepped back, breathing short breaths through his nostrils. “Sorry I bothered you. Sorry I bothered your little understanding.”

  Ellen saw it in his face. She sensed it in his words, his anger, the hostility. “What are you doing, Frank?”

  Frank pointed to Dean. “He may not be able to see to defend himself but Henry sure as hell can.” Slamming his fist against the archway of the door, Frank stormed out.

  Ellen knew she didn’t have much time. Four houses down the street was all Frank had to go. “Oh my God.” She rushed around looking for something to put on.

  “El,” Dean called out to her, “what’s happening?” He listened to the sound of her footsteps as they ran up the stairs, shuffled on the floor above his head and thumped back down, Dean even thought he heard her stumble. “El? What’s going on?”

  Ellen pulled up her shorts. “I have to stop him. Oh shit, I have to stop him.”

  The panic was so predominant in Ellen’s voice that Dean felt it. “What?”

  “You heard him, Dean,” she spoke rapidly as she ran to the door. “And that look. That lo
ok, that look ... oh God, he’s going after Henry.”

  <><><><>

  Henry had just about reached that point in his work where he was starting to get bored. He set down his book on the coffee table and began to sit. He expected Ellen to call him back soon. He did not expect the loud, single bang at his front door. Wondering who was joking around—loudly—Henry walked to the front door, opening it. “Frank?”

  “Just so you know,” Frank spoke graveled, “just so you were warned, and just so you can see it coming ... I’m gonna nail you right now.” Before Henry could respond, Frank did something he seldom did. He gave Henry everything he had and he sailed it to him in that one hit. A single hit that spun Henry and sent him flying back, knocking him into the end table, then rolling him onto the floor.

  Henry’s eyes rolled from the hit. He found himself face-first in his carpet, staring at blood that dropped swiftly onto it from his cheek.

  “Get up!”

  Henry blinked slowly. He watched the floor move in a blur, so foggy he felt.

  “I said get up!”

  Henry braced his hands upon the carpet, lifting his chest from the floor then bringing himself to his knees. “Frank ...”

  “I will not fight with you, Henry, and I will not argue with you until you get up!”

  His balance was lost and Henry was confused, not only from the hit but from what caused it. Stumbling, he reached for the already fallen end table and stood up. His wobbly legs caused him to tip then Henry stumbled forward, catching himself seconds before he hit the wall. Using it as a means of support, Henry faced Frank and leaned back swaying. “What is going on?” He wiped the blood from his cheek.

  “I cannot believe you have to ask me that.”

  “What, Frank?”

  “You were supposed to be my best friend. You are supposed to be the one person in Beginnings I can count on.”