“Oh, I agree, you don’t get into anything. You’re really good at doing something for a while, but then you never carry through.”
“Seriously, are you really going to do this?”
Mrs. Pullman touched his arm. “Let’s get you another drink, Charles.”
He looked at Sarah as if she’d burned the house down. The silence in the room almost screamed. Finally, Sarah’s parents left.
Sarah’s anger had congealed quickly, and she said in a mocking tone, “Yeah, Charles, have another drink.”
Momo must have squeezed her hand because Sarah abruptly turned to her. “You’re out on your own now, Sarah. You don’t have to listen to him. My damn son-in-law has his own self to blame for trying to force the family into such a narrow margin. You should have had a better father.”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said to her. “You were enjoying such a calm evening, and I just flew you into some turbulence.”
“I’m used to the hurly-burly, my darling.”
Chris thought that was about the cutest thing she’d heard in a long time.
“I wish you’d come live with me,” Sarah said. “We could be two crazy girls on our own.”
That got a laugh out of Momo. “We could sure raise the roof, huh? But then who would give your father the business?”
“I sure love you, Momo.”
“And I love you, my darling Sarah.” She patted Sarah’s hand before releasing it. “I’m just about at a part in this book where there’s going to be a scrumptious murder,” Momo said with a definite gleam in her eye. “You go ahead and see your father so he doesn’t blow a carburetor, or whatever it is that gets blown.”
Chris stood when Sarah did. “Okay. But I’ll be by soon to see you.”
She kissed her grandmother and stepped aside.
Chris took Momo’s hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“I feel the same way. Now, you two make an appearance and then go have fun somewhere else.”
As they left the library, Chris said, “When we first went in there, what did you whisper to her?”
Sarah’s expression could have come straight from an elf revealing a heavily guarded secret he’d overheard from Santa. “I said to her, ‘She’s one of the good ones.’”
Chris stopped and pulled her in for a kiss. It was a thank you of sorts but was also in empathy of what she felt, having to endure many of the same familial issues that she had lived through in her own home.
“That’s just dandy.” Mr. Pullman stood a few feet away with a group of people. “What else would you like to do for your dear old dad on Father’s Day?”
Chris tensed up immediately and held her breath. As fast as a music video montage, visions of various domestic-violence calls flipped through her mind. Instinct told her to be ready. If a flashpoint came she’d tug hard on Sarah’s hand and pull her away.
Sarah’s hand slid into hers.
“Jesus, Father,” was all Sarah said, and it was Chris who was being pulled away toward the door. The fifteen or so feet they walked before exiting the house seemed like a mile. And the whole way, she could have sworn that the showy piano man was playing the same pretentious riff.
“I hate it when people drink to excess,” Sarah said when they got back in the car. “I see the binges coming on and I just want to scream.”
“Are you all right?” Chris asked.
Sarah’s laugh was so unexpected it startled her. “I’m sorry,” Sarah said, “but do you know I said the exact same thing to you when we left your parents’ house?”
“You did.”
“How did we survive?”
“Our families,” Chris said, “aren’t too dissimilar. I became a lot like my parents because that’s how I figured I could gain their acceptance. You became the opposite so you wouldn’t succumb.”
Sarah stayed silent, but Chris knew she was chewing on those family bones.
“I dwell in the extremes,” Chris said, “and function within the absolutes of right and wrong, and you live in the grays and see the world in all its contradictory forms.”
“We’re kind of fucked up, aren’t we?”
“God, I hope to hell not!”
“Shit, this wasn’t such a good idea, was it?”
“In a way, it was. I understand more about who you are.”
“And I understand where you get your ironing abilities.” She saluted as a teasing grin formed.
“Ironing?”
“I’ve never seen a wrinkle on you. I bet you can bounce a dime off your bed.”
“What makes you think my bed isn’t sitting there completely unmade.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Damn.”
“It’s made, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Their laughter helped ease the tension they’d absorbed at the parental-home visits. They had been equally uncomfortable, but the experience had drawn her closer to Sarah. It was like they’d shared a foxhole and come out of the artillery assault relatively unscathed.
Here they were, having endured each other’s family secrets, and after the initial discomfort, Chris was hit with a rush of intimacy. Sarah was a strong, beautiful woman, and Chris’s thoughts wasted no time wandering to what lay beneath Sarah’s clothes. And the lips that were now formed in the shape that laughter brings had done amazing things to her. Her brain then dispatched a vise that tightened the space between her legs. To hell with convention, she decided.
Chris started the car. “Do you happen to have a dime?”
*
Chris and Sarah fell onto Chris’s bed, rumpling the perfectly stretched sheets.
She kissed Sarah slowly, then passionately. She turned her around, running her hands over her stomach, hips, breasts, as Sarah sighed.
Sarah complied easily as Chris bent her over at the waist. Sarah’s hands found the bed, and Chris grabbed hold of her hips and bowed down until her chest met Sarah’s back. She kissed Sarah’s shirt, pulling it up with her teeth until her lips could feel the warm skin of her back.
Chris knew she was on autopilot but wouldn’t take over the controls. She wanted Sarah so much that making love to her didn’t even seem like enough. A forceful ache almost moved her to tears because she wanted to worship her. Every cell in her being wanted to protect her and keep her safe.
She reached around and unzipped Sarah’s pants, letting them slide to the floor, and groaned when Sarah’s hips pushed into hers. She quickly kicked her shoes and pants off her feet.
As soon as she slipped Sarah’s underwear off, she turned her around and knelt in front of her. She tasted the wet spot between Sarah’s legs, and a dizzying feeling spun even more wildly when she felt the grip of Sarah’s hands on her hair.
Chris looked up to see Sarah’s head falling back and her chest heaving up and down.
Sarah sucked in a breath and moaned loudly.
“God,” Sarah said. “I want you inside me.”
Chris wanted her, too. Her legs, her arms, her mouth. She wanted her entirely.
She stood quickly and heard a sexy whimper come from Sarah. Laying her back on the bed, Chris undressed quickly, hardly taking her eyes off Sarah, who now removed her top and bra.
Chris’s need pulled strongly as she lay down next to Sarah. Nuzzling her nose in Sarah’s hair, she felt completely whole.
She kissed her neck as Sarah’s hands wrapped around her, and soon, Sarah’s breathing increased and Chris felt Sarah’s hands upon her shoulders, urgently tugging her down.
“Please,” Sarah said.
Chris’s tongue explored her body, leaving a wet trail as she made her way down, across her clavicle, around both breasts, playfully sucking and biting, and then lavishing herself on Sarah’s belly. There was a slight lift, just under her belly button, that allowed her tongue to ride up and over, like a leaf that flows on a current.
Her hair was being pulled down again, and Chris’s pulse quickened. Sarah wanted her even more now, so she
didn’t linger any longer on that fabulous stomach.
Chris kissed the insides of her thighs, and Sarah responded by spreading her legs. Chris ran her tongue down her thigh, tasting the sweetness of her skin, and arrived at the underside of her knee. She was hot to the touch and softer than the petals of a fresh red rose.
Sarah’s fingers tickled Chris’s cheeks and drew her up, helping her mouth find the wettest place Chris could imagine.
Sarah arched her back, pushing into Chris’s mouth, and moaned a sultry melody just for her. In appreciation, Chris swirled her tongue, finding the sensitive places that would make Sarah twitch and grab her hair more firmly.
Sarah began to shake as her clit hardened under Chris’s tongue. Her moans grew louder, so Chris wrapped her arms underneath Sarah’s thighs and held her tighter.
In a building crescendo, Sarah moved against Chris’s mouth in increasing circles, almost rising off the mattress. Chris stayed with her, devoted to the pleasure she wanted so much to give, and suddenly, Sarah’s body tensed.
She called out Chris’s name and came in her mouth, the waves of contractions squeezing her chin. When she eventually slid up Sarah’s still-shaking body, Chris felt overwhelmed with affection and caring and wrapped her arms tightly around her. The trembling that originated deep inside her juddered and quivered without warning. She was overcome with emotion so potent that she was afraid it might explode inside her. It both excited and frightened her.
“My God,” Sarah said, and gently kissed Chris’s cheek, and lips, and eyes.
Chris exhaled a breath she’d held a little too long. “Yeah.”
Sarah leaned back ever so slightly and looked at her. “I have no words.”
Chris kissed her. “I know what you mean.”
“Are you okay with this?”
“Yes.” And Chris truly meant it. “I’m beginning to forget why I wanted to slow things down.”
“Sometimes crossing a line can be pretty scary. I understand why you felt that way before.”
“Has any of this been scary for you?”
For a moment, it seemed that Sarah’s mind floated away because she looked toward the ceiling and the muscles in her face fell ever so faintly. In a nanosecond, she appeared sad, and then the expression vanished.
“Being with you isn’t scary at all. It’s like I’ve been underwater too long, flailing around, and a hand reached down to pull me up. And as I take my first gulp of air, I realize the hand is yours.”
“That’s beautiful, Sarah.”
Sarah was nose to nose with her. “And so are you.”
Chris felt the heat from her mouth right before their tongues touched. Everything about her set Chris ablaze. It was as if a colossal underground oil deposit was on fire. There was heat everywhere and no apparent way to put it out.
Sarah put her head on Chris’s shoulder.
“If I may step into presumptuousness here,” Chris said, “I believe we might be racing toward becoming an item.”
“You are stepping into it,” Sarah said, “and I don’t see any bullshit on your shoes.”
Chris laughed. “That’s a nice picture.”
“So is this.”
Chris looked down and watched Sarah’s hand trace a path toward her stomach.
“You know,” Sarah said, “I felt you do things with your mouth that ruined any memories I have of anyone else.”
“I take that as a good thing?”
“You should.”
“Good, because that comment could have gone either way.”
“It was definitely meant in the right way.”
“I don’t know what it is about you,” Chris held her tighter, “but you make me think crazy things.”
“Like what?”
“Like, I want to run down to the supermarket and put enough quarters into the candy machine until I get one of those temporary tattoos, the one that looks like a heart with arrows through it, and stick it on my chest.”
“That’s adorable.”
“And I want to change my Facebook status, like, right now.” Chris stopped, suddenly afraid she might have pushed things too far. She didn’t know if that remark had frightened Sarah, but quite frankly, that declaration, so abrupt and so unlike her, was terrifying the shit out of her.
Sarah didn’t say anything right away, and prickles of anxiety and regret started to erupt under Chris’s skin.
“Shit, that was too much, wasn’t it?” Chris damned herself. “I’m sorry if that scared you.”
“It didn’t.”
She looked at Sarah but couldn’t read the emotion just under the surface of her smile.
“It didn’t,” Sarah said again. “It’s just that…”
Chris held her breath, expecting something bad, like a kid anticipating a painful tetanus shot.
“You were right to want to go slowly. We don’t know each other that well.”
“Are you regretting…this?”
“No, not at all. It’s just that you’re a wonderful, honest, and amazing woman. And now you’ve met my family, so you know what kind of upbringing I had.” She lifted her hand to Chris’s cheek. “But there’s so much you don’t know about me.”
“And there’s a lot you don’t know about me, as well.”
“That’s true.”
“I mean, some parts of me might scare you into tomorrow.”
That distant expression washed over Sarah’s face again. Chris felt pangs of compassion for Sarah because so much seemed to dwell deep down inside her.
“I’ve experienced the worst,” Sarah finally said. “So nothing scares me anymore.”
“Are you warning me about something?” Whatever it was, Chris couldn’t imagine it being so bad that she’d change her mind about anything.
“No, I’m saying that I screw things up.”
“We all do.”
“There are things you don’t know about my past.”
“What could be so bad?”
Sarah wouldn’t answer.
“Have you committed any felonies?”
“No.”
“Have you killed anyone?”
“Of course not.”
“Then whatever it is, I think the operative word, here, is past.”
“You saw my parents. They like the fact that they have children to talk to their friends about, but other than that, I was just an issue to be dealt with.” Sarah paused. “I remember, when I was in, maybe, sixth grade, I found a word in the dictionary, and it seemed that, with that one word, I understood my whole life, like its meaning had just been defined.”
“What was it?”
“Chattel. It said something like, an item of movable personal property, such as furniture.” Sarah paused. “Or me. Old Charles and Sharon moved me around at their convenience. To show off their little creations, they placed me in the middle of cocktail parties. When they wanted to enjoy the summer, they shipped me off to places like a social-economics camp.”
“What the heck is that?”
“I can tell you that my days weren’t filled with swimming and campfire stories but courses in business-plan writing, with a sporting competition at the end, of course, and learning about for-profit and non-profit businesses.”
“Are you kidding?”
“I wish I was. And when I’d get home, they guaranteed I wouldn’t get in the way of their lives by keeping all of us upstairs in our rooms and watched over by the servant staff, who stayed at the top of the stairs making sure we wouldn’t be seen.”
“Did they do that to your sister and brother as well?”
“Yeah. My sister’s a lot older and was the well-behaved one. She’d send herself off to camps and was only around when they asked. I’m sure it was her way of avoiding them. And my brother didn’t seem to care one way or the other. No wonder my sister is now married to an asshole and my brother does more drugs than he sells.”
“I’m so sorry, Sarah.”
“So, after I saw that word in the diction
ary, I remember yelling at my mother, telling her I knew what they were up to and that even chattel have feelings.”
“Oh, Sarah.”
“A shrink once told me, ‘Something breaks the mind and the will of anyone so stripped of autonomy.’”
Chris’s heart hurt so badly for her. A flood of pain seemed to be inside Sarah that was constantly seeping over the edges of the dam. She held her tighter, kissing her forehead.
“Oh, God, listen to me. I’ve become a bummer.”
“You are not a bummer. I’m glad you told me all that.”
Sarah drew in a big breath and let it out. “One of the greatest days of my life is when I became an adult and moved out. I try to think of my whole childhood as a badly scripted television show whose only saving grace was that it got canceled. But even so, whenever I go home I’m still in a series of reruns.”
Chris kissed her. “I’m really digging who you’ve become.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You’ve got a brilliant mind, you make me laugh, and you’re sexy as hell.”
Sarah’s face brightened, which pleased Chris like nothing else.
“Well,” Sarah said as she rolled on top of Chris. “I think I owe you something for those compliments.”
“You don’t—” Sarah’s incredibly sexy lips on Chris’s stifled her words. And shortly after she felt those amazing hips moving against hers, her mind went happily blank.
Chapter Twelve
Sarah arrived at the refuge first thing Monday morning. Madeleine was inside mostly, still keeping an eye on the news. She’d come out every once in a while to update the volunteers, and so far, the only blaze the reporters were following was in Topanga Canyon, too far away to worry about.
Sarah spent the first few hours walking the perimeter fences, looking for broken or worn spots. Having repaired a few, she was now cooling off from the intense midday sun with two frozen fruit pops—one for her and one for Sasha. They sat almost next to each other, with the fence in between them, slurping on the frozen cherry-juice-and-raisin treat.
“I guess it is possible to have a normal life,” she said as Sasha concentrated on her frozen delicacy, only glancing up once. “I mean, at some point, you just move on, right?”
The Heat of Angels Page 14
