Blind Kiss

by Renee Carlino

  I flipped the same song on from the beginning and made up a little routine to it—a combination of contemporary dance and ballet. I danced with my eyes closed, unselfconsciously. What the hell did it matter anymore?

  When the music ended, I stopped and opened my eyes. Gavin stood and walked toward me, never taking his eyes off mine.

  He picked up the wireless speaker and my phone, grabbed my hand, and led me down the hall to the guest room. We stood face-to-face a foot apart while he held the small speaker between us. “Put that song on again and tell me you believe there’s a God.”

  I put the song on repeat, set the speaker down, reached up, and placed my hands on his cheeks. The light coming from the hallway was enough to see the blissful look on his face. Leaning up on my toes wordlessly, I told him I believed there was a God. And then I kissed him.

  When I pulled away, his eyes were still closed. “Was that like our sweet blind kiss or your mean hate-kiss?” I asked.

  “Neither. It was better than both.”

  “Are you still leaving in two days?” My throat ached.

  He nodded, looking more regretful than I had ever seen him in my life. His eyes were glassy. “I have to. Even knowing that you’re not with Lance . . . my own situation hasn’t changed. You wouldn’t love me if I abandoned my child.”

  “You’re right.”

  When he dropped to his knees, I gasped. He lifted my shirt enough to kiss the tiny bow on the front waistband of my panties. My hands found his hair.

  “Let me love you tonight, please, Penny?”

  “But what about—”

  “Shhh,” he whispered against my belly. “We deserve this. We’ve been waiting so long.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be able to let you go after this.”

  “Yes, you will. You’re the strongest person I know.”

  When I lifted the T-shirt over my head, he ran his hands up my sides and found the tattoo. “On the ribs? Ouch, that hurts.”

  Not enough, I thought. He squinted to read the words under my left breast.

  my breath

  my joy

  Milo Liam

  He kissed it. “Beautiful,” he said quietly. “I can’t believe you inked your virgin skin. This is perfect, though.” He kissed it again and made me squirm.

  “I’m gonna light you up, Penny. We’re gonna do this and then fall asleep together, and tomorrow, I’ll wake you up gently.”

  “Oh my God . . .” I don’t think anyone ever made me feel that way with words alone.

  Pushing me onto the bed, he slid my panties down my legs. He kissed me between the thighs, making me writhe. Reaching back, he turned the dimmer up just enough so we could see each other. “I can’t do this blind. You’re too beautiful. I want to look at you,” he said.

  “Take your clothes off. There’s clearly an imbalance here.” I pointed to my naked body and then to his fully clothed self. He chuckled while he kicked off his shoes. A moment later, he was naked. I looked at his tall, tattooed frame: muscular, lean, and painfully turned on. I had never seen Gavin totally naked. He was impressive.

  When he crawled onto the bed, slowly moving up my body, I started to panic. He kissed me but I was somewhere else, thinking about what I had done to my life.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I can tell, P.” He rolled onto his side and leaned up on his elbow.

  “Can we just talk for a while? I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I understand. I’m scared, too. I’m terrified of everything that’s happening. Here we are, finally being who we were meant to be, but tomorrow we have to go back to pretending . . . to living like we’re other people.”

  “Gavin, why do you always sing that song to me? The Dylan song.”

  “ ‘Just Like a Woman’?”

  “Yeah.”

  He looked thoughtfully at the blank wall across from us, remembering something as he absently traced circles on my belly with his index finger.

  “They say Dylan wrote that song for Edie Sedgwick.”

  I knew the name but wasn’t sure who she was. “Was that Andy Warhol’s muse?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And . . .”

  “When I first met you, you were wearing black tights and a short T-shirt. She always wore black tights. The way you danced was so captivating, like her. You still take my breath away. When I walk into a room, my eyes are immediately drawn to you. And back then I used to think you were so vulnerable. Like you would break. I saw a glimpse of that today, but you’re not that girl anymore.”

  “What, am I hardened? Jaded? Sad?”

  “No. You’re strong.”

  Was he just telling me that because he knew I needed to be strong from now on?

  “Maybe. I don’t know how strong I can be now; this is just the beginning. My husband just divorced me, my son is going to college in a few months, and my best friend is leaving the country.”

  There was a sadness behind his smile. “You’ll be fine. You’ve fought through worse.”

  “I always wondered why you had such a hard time with women. You’re so loving and perceptive.”

  “I’ve never had a hard time with women.” He smiled a full, cheesy grin. “If I had trouble with women, I wouldn’t date, I’d just be single and pay for it every once in a while.”

  I socked him. “God, you’re a pig sometimes.”

  “I’m being honest. You made me picky. I never felt as close to another woman as I do to you.”

  It was then that I finally noticed my name tattooed on his hip. I knew he had tattooed Milo on the inside of his upper bicep, but I didn’t know about the Penny tattoo.

  When I ran my finger over it, he shivered. “When did you get this?”

  “The morning you got married. Imagine that.”

  I shook my head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I guess because it was for me, not you. I wanted it to hurt, but it wasn’t enough.”

  I shimmied down the bed and kissed the word. His fingers got lost in my hair. “Gavin?”

  “Penny.”

  “Can we just cuddle?”

  I felt his body jerk with laughter. “Sure. I’m used to you teasing me to death.”

  I scooted up, lying on top of him, and wrapped my arms around his neck. My breasts were pressed to his chest, and his hands were around my waist. I looked into his sincere, warm eyes, crinkling at the corners. I knew he was trying to read my mind. Planting a soft, chaste kiss on his lips, I rolled off him and buried myself in the crook of his arm, where I had been so many times before.

  AT FIVE A.M., I started awake to the sounds of Buckley scratching at the door. He wanted to be fed. I threw on Gavin’s T-shirt and led Buckley to the kitchen, where I filled up his bowl. I was still exhausted and just wanted to climb back into bed. I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and realized I had only a few more hours with Gavin. Back in the guest room, I tore my T-shirt off and crawled back into bed with him. His breathing was even, like he was still sleeping, but he stirred when I kissed his chest.

  “Come here,” he whispered. I had woken him with just a small kiss right over his heart.

  Dawn filled the room with a pale, mystical light, cloaking us, letting us share a moment no one would ever know about but us.

  I kissed him on the mouth, bracing his neck. He adjusted me so that I was straddling him. I bent and kissed him again.

  “Are you sure?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  With our mouths connected, he moved me to lie at his side. We were face-to-face as his hand snaked down between my thighs. He touched me gently, waking me, lighting me up. I pressed his hand to my body and said, “More, more.”

  The room was stifling from our movements and body heat. He tore the sheet off and got to his knees.

  I reached up and wrapped my hand around him. He made a strangled sound. Breathing hard, he spread my legs so that he was nestled between them. He bent and kissed my
belly, then lower and lower until I was squirming beneath him, beneath his mouth and his gentle, worshiping touch.

  He sat back again. I felt cold and naked. “Come down here,” I said.

  Lifting my body with ease, he brought us together, to where we were going to connect. He placed a pillow under my lower back and slid in gracefully, carefully, with love in his eyes. His hands were so big on my waist that I could barely see my own body beneath them.

  At first I was shy as he moved in and out. I kept my eyes closed and said, “Don’t look at me.”

  “Ahh, Penny, I can’t help it.”

  His movements got faster and faster; our breaths got louder and louder.

  “Gavin, I can’t believe you feel this way.”

  He covered my body with his, and he whispered near my ear, “We fit perfectly. I’m not going to last long.”

  “Let go,” I said to him, but somehow my own body responded to the demand and I felt the aching subside and the building, building, until I was trembling. “Don’t stop, do exactly what you’re doing. Don’t—”

  He smashed his mouth to mine and kissed me with such tortured passion, I fell apart beneath him. My back arched. I was frozen in that position as my body quaked. A second later, he thrust into me once more, pulled his mouth from mine, and said, “God.” The word was a prayer on his lips.

  We were lifeless, limbs everywhere, not knowing which one of us they belonged to. Why had I waited so long to be with him? Why had I pushed him away all those years ago? I would never understand my twenty-one-year-old self or what she saw in other people. Why she chose Lance. I could list the reasons she gave, but they would all be overshadowed by how much I loved Gavin. How much I still loved Gavin.

  MILO’S GAME WAS at one p.m., so we lay there, dozing in and out of sleep as Chet Baker played on the radio. We made love two more times in the guest bed, and once in the guest shower.

  Later in the kitchen, as I made espresso for us, I asked him, “Do you feel bad for Briel?”

  He pulled two espresso cups from the cabinet. “I should, but I don’t. Selfishly, I still feel bad for us.”

  We were showered and dressed and it was just like any other time Gavin had sat at our breakfast bar and drank espresso. Except this time, memories of us together were rushing through me. I’d shiver, my body would react, and I’d try to push the thought away. But a part of me didn’t want to let go; after all, I would never get to experience it again.

  “Are we meeting Milo there?” he asked.

  “Yeah, his friend Kale’s mom is taking them. We should drive separately, though. Lance will probably be there, and I just don’t want to deal with any drama right now.”

  “It’s fine, I get it. Don’t worry.”

  I gave him a grateful look and mouthed “Thank you.” I downed the rest of my espresso quickly and stood up from the counter barstool. “We should get going. Are you leaving straight from the field?”

  He nodded.

  “And you have your guitar in your car?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Before we go, will you play our song? The one you wrote for me for my wedding?”

  He smiled. “You want to see me fall apart, don’t you, Penny?”

  “No, I just . . . I don’t know when I’ll see you or hear you play again, in person.”

  His eyes turned glassy. “Okay.” He went to his car and came back in with his acoustic guitar and started strumming the familiar chords. “I changed a few lyrics.”

  I laughed. “Just now?”

  “Yep.”

  When he started singing, it looked like he was going to cry. I stood behind him and put my hand on his shoulder.

  Tonight you are close to me,

  I’m inside this time to pray.

  Feeling everything I always knew and

  All the reasons I want to stay.

  A minute is forever.

  A kiss left on your lips to remember.

  I’m your lover, I’m your friend.

  You’re mine.

  You were always my lover . . . for a lifetime in my mind.

  Growing old like this . . . letting go and coming back again.

  Telling tales like this . . . of how it all began.

  I’ll hold your hand and your babies—I’ll watch your children grow—And one day you’ll say, “Howdy, old chum.”

  And I’ll say, “No, I’m your lover . . . remember? And you’re mine.”

  It’s been this way forever. I’ve always been your lover . . . for a lifetime in my mind.

  I kissed his neck from behind. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he said without turning around.

  After he packed up his guitar, I walked him to the door and said, “I’ll see you at the field.”

  He turned to me. “Close your eyes.” He kissed me, and I put my hand on his heart the way he did fifteen years ago. We pulled away and, a moment later, he was gone.

  AT THE FIELD, he cheered for Milo and exchanged a brief handshake with Lance, who ended up standing on the opposite side of the field from us. Gavin didn’t say much to me. When the game was over, he congratulated Milo on scoring two goals. I overheard him apologize for having to leave right away, and then he came up to me and said, “I gotta go. I promise I’ll call you as soon as I get to Paris.”

  But he didn’t.

  37. Two Months Later

  GAVIN

  I knew I needed to call her, but once we got to Paris, everything was chaotic. I had to meet Briel’s family and find a place for us to live. Meanwhile, she was milking the pregnancy for all it was worth. She was incapable of doing anything. I thought back to that tiny house Lance and Penny lived in when she was about to pop with Milo. She used to dance and take long walks. She shot arrows with my dad and helped build a fence in her side yard. She was just a different kind of woman. But I had to stop comparing Briel to Penny; it wasn’t fair, and it just made me an unhappy jerk.

  Two months had passed since I had left. Finally, Penny broke down and texted me early one morning.

  Penny: Forgot all about me already, huh?

  Briel saw the text before I did. She liked to snoop. Before I even had a chance to respond, she came into the kitchen, where I was preparing breakfast, and said, “She knows manners?” She was holding my phone up, showing me the text.

  “I thought we talked about this, Briel?”

  “We are going to be a family now. Why this other woman going to be involved in our life?”

  “She’s not ‘another woman.’ She’s my best friend. She’s like a sister to me.” Okay, that was a small white lie.

  “I don’t want it going on.”

  “I think maybe your hormones are getting the best of you. Penny and I are worlds apart now. She’s going through a lot. She’s in the middle of a divorce.”

  She threw the phone across the room.

  “Oh my god, Briel. What are you doing?”

  “Call your friend so she can leave you alone.”

  She left the room crying and slammed the bedroom door hard enough to shake our tiny apartment. I could hear her sobbing. I had never lived with a woman, and here I was confined to six hundred square feet of space, with one bathroom, a kitchen, and a woman I wasn’t in love with. Meanwhile, I couldn’t speak French to save my life; I had to rely on Briel for everything. I was suffocating after only two months.

  I decided I wasn’t going to let Briel boss me around. She had enough control. I walked out onto the cobblestone street and found a café, ordered an espresso, and called Penny. It was eight a.m. my time, eleven p.m. Penny’s.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “I’m so sorry I haven’t called you.”

  “It okay,” she said. “I figured you were busy getting settled in.”

  “God, I’m dying here. I hate it so much.”

  “I’m sorry, Gavin.”

  “What’s going on? How are you and Lance?”

  I could hear her take a deep breath. “We’re not spea
king. It makes the divorce proceedings easier. Milo arranges everything. What about you?”

  “I don’t know. I feel stuck here.”

  “You can’t run now.”

  “That’s not it. Briel’s kind of a pain. I’m just trying to stay positive. She keeps threatening to leave me, and half the time I feel like saying, ‘Go ahead,’ but I desperately want to be a part of my daughter’s life.”

  There was a long beat of silence. “You’re having a girl?”

  “Yes.” I realized I hadn’t told her. She was always the first to know everything, but I couldn’t confide in her in this case. I was sure she was hurt. “I’m sorry, I meant to tell you right away.”

  “What will you name her?”

  “We haven’t chosen a name yet.”

  “It’s okay. I have to get going anyway. Milo’s waiting for dinner.”

  “Oh.” I was caught off guard. “Well, I’ll call you again soon.”

  “Settle into your life, Gavin. Try to accept it. I did.”

  I bristled. “Why am I sensing hostility?”

  “It’s nothing. I’ll let you go.”

  ON MY WAY back, I picked up some lilies for Briel, hoping it would smooth things over. When I walked in and offered them to her, she jerked her head back. “Gaveen, I’m allergic.”

  “Fuck.” Another thing I didn’t know about her. I dumped the flowers in the garbage outside and came back in to find her lying on the couch, thumbing through a magazine.

  Without looking up, she said, “I want to name her Elodie, and I think she should take my last name. She’ll fit in better here with the name Boucher.”

  “Why? Berninger is French, too.”

  “Kind of. I mean, she can have your last name, but I should take it too, in that case.”

  “Are you talking about marriage?”

  She shrugged.

  “Fine. Make a plan.” I felt so beaten down, I couldn’t even think for myself anymore.

  38. Two Months Later

  PENNY

  I found out about Gavin’s marriage via text and spent the next month drifting through my life. I bought college stuff for Milo—sheets, a shower caddy, an alarm clock, etc.—and imagined Gavin and Briel’s wedding whenever I was alone: Briel in white, her belly swollen the way mine had been fifteen years ago; Gavin in black, exchanging vows in a French civil ceremony without a single friend or family member on his side.