Obsession: Warm Bodies, Cold Hearts

by Rice, Rachel E.

“Thanks, Zack, I owe you one.”

  We drove up to the restaurant and met the other half of our date. The restaurant was wonderful; I could hardly believe that it was located in Houston and not in an exotic location.

  Most people in Houston love to know everything about each other, and they are not shy about asking. Some think it is rude to ask a woman’s age, how long she has been married, and why she does not have children. I expected those types of questions on our double date. It was not exactly a date because Zack and I knew the score and we had no illusions about any romance between us. Zack was barely five feet four inches. I am five six. I am attracted to men over six feet. I don’t know why that is, it just is.Maybe that’s how Mike got under the radar.

  I walked into the restaurant and immediately I captured the eyes of Allison’s date. If I were looking for someone, it would be a man like the one sitting with her, I thought. He was charming with manners, and he stood to introduce himself.

  You could tell he was a Southern gentleman from the old school who appeared to have a lot of respect for a woman. Those were hard to come by in the days of speed dating. You see people are not what they seem; their personality is what they show, but bad character is always hidden.

  Chapter 15

  Living in New York—The Beginning

  A close friend Tracy, whom I met in college, now lived in Brooklyn, a borough of New York. She suggested that I visit her and stay if I liked the city. Tracy lived just off Flatbush and in a section called Brooklyn Heights. She lived in Brooklyn because she could not afford the rent in the city. Tracy worked at the local college teaching a class in the social sciences.

  Tracy is of West Indian heritage, born in London England, and came to the U.S by way of Texas. On completion of college, she returned to England, where she met her husband. Her husband brought her back to the states to marry her but neglected to inform her he had a wife, who was now living in the basement of his home in Boston with their three children.

  After Tracy discovered that the wife was still in the house, Tracy did not make a fuss and the wife eventually left for England with only two of her three children. Tracy now divorced from her Englishman needed a roommate. She is a delight and I loved her accent. Her family is from Jamaica, and when she was with them, I could hardly understand her; with some friends and strangers, she spoke the Queen’s English with the best of them. Tracy married her Brit the same time I married Mike, both marriages ended around the same time with different consequences and reasons.

  I thought I would be married to him my entire life. After Mike had a heart attack and died suddenly, I packed my clothes and left Texas. I was a widow and never a bride. I left a lot of bad memories there.

  Now I’m in New York and I’m a writer. I didn’t have to worry about money because I have plenty, and I have no children. Mike left me all his money and property. I needed friends and something to take my mind off the past, someone to love me, and for me to love them. I reached Brooklyn after the cabbie gave me an unwanted tour of the three boroughs, Queens, Manhattan, and Brooklyn; I’m sure he missed one.

  I paid what I knew to be an excessive amount of money, then I lumbered out of the cab, into the apartment building tired and dazed. I knew I was in for an experience.

  The building was clean and well kept and many of its inhabitants were artist and educators. Tracy greeted me after a few rings of the bell.

  Tracy had a diverse group of friends at her apartment; Matt who taught theatre at a famous school for actors, Sylvia a playwright, and Steven who owned a Manhattan hair salon. Steven and I immediately connected. I knew he was gay right off. I could tell he was a man who couldn’t come to terms with his love of men and woman; he was on the “down low,” as Sylvia explained. Steven was at the apartment giving Sylvia and Tracy pointers on how to style their hair.

  Steven’s favorite conversation was men. Tracy shared his enthusiasm. They invested hours into discussing and arguing over what men wanted. I didn’t join in because I didn’t think I was qualified. I had only experienced sex with two boys and one man in my twenty some years and I don’t think that counted for much.

  During one of the spirited conversations weeks after my arrival, Steven declared that all men wanted was, “A good sandwich and a good blow job.” Everyone in the room became silent; and to digest what he had shouted to the world. Then everyone took a breath, looked up and laughed loudly.

  “Well you should know Steven,” chided Sylvia, who appeared not to like Steven very much.

  “Why are you jealous? You are jealous because I know what men want and I’m able to deliver,” Steven said waving his hands and snapping his finger in the air.

  “Fuck you Steven!” shouted Sylvia.

  “Anytime, can I put that in my date book? Sylvia is going to fuck me, but wait I’m too young to die.”

  Sylvia a woman of thirty, who had a lot of drama and romance in her life, didn’t appear to have fared well with the love end. Every time Sylvia became interested in a man, he was either gay or old.

  Her latest lover was in his late sixties, and during a night of passionate love or sex, which ever suited her situation, Sylvia discovered she needed a friend, so she made a late night call to me after knowing me for only a week—I was a port in a storm.

  The phone was ringing louder than usual.

  “Sydney, is Tracy there?”

  “No Sylvia, what’s wrong, you don’t sound well.” I said concerned and sleepy.

  “You could not imagine what has just happened.”

  “No, I couldn’t, how about telling me,” I said, but I was not prepared for what came next.

  “I’m in the bed with this guy I know. He is all of fifty or sixty, and then he starts to sweat. I’m thinking that I’m giving him some good loving, and just like that, he drops dead on me.”

  “Are you kidding? You can’t be serious.”

  “No he is just lying here with his eyes open.”

  “Did you call the ambulance or 911?”

  “Are you out of your mind? He’s married.”

  “What does that matter? You should call for an ambulance.”

  “What can I do now?” Sylvia whispered. “I’m thinking about leaving him in this room,” she said matter of fact.

  “I don’t think that you should do that.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Call the ambulance, does his wife know you?”

  “Yes”

  “What?”

  “Did you say yes?”

  “Yes don’t act so surprised, he lives next door to me, on the same floor, the apartment to the right.” I guess I will have to move,” Sylvia said in a nonchalant voice.

  “That’s all you say is you will have to move.”

  “Well Sydney not everyone can afford to move, and into Manhattan no doubt.”

  “Sylvia, I don’t think this is about me. Have you decided just what you will do?” I said trying to get her focused.

  “I guess I’ll have to call the ambulance, do you think the police will come?”

  “What do you think Sylvia?” I said a little annoyed.

  “I guess that was a silly question.”

  “I have to go Sylvia call me later.”

  The dead man in Sylvia’s bed was married and someone had to tell his wife. Sylvia must have felt terrible trying to live that down. Steven was the second person to find out, and he never let her forget how she screwed a man to death.

  Games were played out regularly at the apartment. I got the feeling that Sylvia and Steven had been lovers and now they were mortal enemies.

  The apartment was neat but small; however, it was a meeting place for people that liked good discussions, opinions, and food.

  Tracy welcomed me and gave me a hug.

  She was cooking some of her native food, curry goat. You could smell the strong pungent smell of her cooking waffling through the hallway of the building. I was happy to be in New York and happy to leave Texas behind me. The memories and s
keletons in closets were overflowing and eventually they would be out like a Halloween nightmare.

  Tracy directed me to the small room where I would stay for a while, it was an extra room Tracy used for office space; it was great, even though I had to wade through papers and books to find my bed. I put my suitcase in the room. Tracy couldn’t wait to give me up to date information on her life. She plopped on the bed next to me.

  “I’m glad you came, Sydney. You need a change of scenery,” she said trying to get a few things off her chest.

  Tracy always started a conversation about the other person, but very soon, it would be about her. I listened.

  “I needed a change too. Girl, bumba clod. I met this Anglo in London and he asked me to marry him.”

  “Ass, I told him yes. Girl he married, yea, I not know it.”

  Tracy fell back into her accent because she felt comfortable with me. I had to strain to understand her. I just acted as if I knew what she was saying. When Tracy talked to people whom she just met, she had this perfect Queen’s English.

  “That was terrible. When did you find out?” I said trying to understand what I had missed.

  “After I come to his home in Boston, there he is with his white wife and children living in the basement of their home.”

  Tracy started talking and didn’t finish until early Saturday morning. I understood that she stayed married for about eight years, but when she decided to make her breast smaller, because it bothered her back, her husband found him another woman. She even told me about Steven and his love triangle.

  One spirited evening at Tracy’s apartment, I made a mistake and asked Steven about Sam.

  “Steven, I understand that you are interested in a married man.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Oh I’m sorry; I didn’t know it was a secret.”

  “Steven how can you date a married man? I think that’s sick,” shouted Sylvia. Steven looked around at Sylvia and gave her the finger.

  “Nothing could be more disgusting than swinging,” I added.

  “Well you gay people are having too many partners,” Sylvia insinuated

  “I’m only seeing one man,” said Steven smugly.

  “What about Sam, who is he seeing?”

  Everyone looked around the room and looked up at the ceiling, you could hear a few whistles, no one wanted to meet Steven’s eyes. When sex is involved people will do almost anything to satisfy their desires, even if it means lying to themselves.

  I know all about lying, I continued my lies throughout the lonely years I stayed married to a man I could not stand or tolerate. I closed my eyes and mind to the world to make some peace with it, just to exist in it.

  All I could feel was contempt for Mike because of his deceptions. I wanted to be married and have children. I could never forgive him for the destruction of my illusions and dreams.

  Now with his money I’m able to live some of my dreams. I felt lucky now and I wanted to enjoy every moment of living in New York. For some strange reason, Steven and I had a good rapport. We enjoyed each other’s conversations and company.

  He thought I was a little green because I came from the South. He took it upon himself to show me New York, and warn me about what New York can do to a person. I had seen more in Texas. New York would be a cakewalk. I have met good people in both places and I have met the worst types everywhere.

  Steven shuttled me around to get me acquainted with the sights and sounds of New York.

  Zack arranged for me to transfer to a job in New York and Steven showed me where I would be working. Zack even informed me that I could take as much time as I needed to get acquainted with this vibrant city. He knew that a place as awesome as this could be overwhelming.

  I settled in and began working before I checked in with my boss. His boss was Zack and I knew as long as I produced, there wouldn’t be a problem.

  Steven did not waste any time solidifying his friendship with me, he even introduce me to friends of his who had contacts to very eligible straight men.

  Because Steven owns a salon, he knew all the gossip of those who had money. He knew all their secrets and he kept them most of the time. He only divulge information if someone crossed him, otherwise I found him to be a loyal friend and confidant.

  Chapter 16

  The Last Straw

  You are only as strong as your weakest link. Vanity was my strength, yet it became my weakness. Vanity caused me to leave Danny and propel my life into orbit.

  “Are you ready Sydney?” Robert yelled from his room. “We have only a few minutes to get across town and the 610 loop near the Galleria is a disaster. “Come on Sydney, hurry!

  I could not stand another minute living a lie with Robert, but I didn’t say a word. I lived in a state of siege. He blackmailed me to keep me.

  Robert worked for an oil company in Houston, and he amassed a fortune. You could see by what he collected in a short period, paintings, jewelry, and houses in the riches areas along the Gulf coast. Sean and I were a part of his collection.

  He set me on a shelf and dusted me off when company came. Here is my wife and son he proudly announced, but I was not his wife and Sean was not his son. Robert walked around like a man possessed. He acted as if he was a robot that had programmed itself to accept whatever his mind convinced his body.

  Houston was a big town that thought it was a city. Numerous cities and towns border Houston. Robert’s company recruited him from one of those neighboring towns. He liked the money and the lifestyle it afforded, so he moved to Houston.

  We moved into a gated community in the Woodlands, shortly after Danny found us on Bammel lane.

  Robert and I insulated ourselves from the crime of the big city, but not the crime we perpetrated on Sean and Danny. I could forgive Danny, but I would never forgive Robert. Robert never tried to prevent me from coming and going where ever and whenever I wanted, but I was a prisoner of the mind and spirit. He was trying to break my spirit; many men better than he has tried, with no success.

  Sean was now a year old and he had never seen his father since Danny showed up at Robert’s door. Robert taught Sean to call him daddy, but you could see the distance Robert put between him and Sean. He despised Danny and now he was using Danny’s son to hurt Danny and me.

  “I am putting on my makeup, I’ll be right out.” I said in a hapless voice.

  “You don’t need makeup, you look beautiful.”

  I was pleasing to look at, but not beautiful, then who is? Men thought I was, and perception is reality some say. I gave the illusion of beauty. A masquerade.

  Robert paraded me around his friends and told everyone I was his wife and he had a son.

  His friends would tell him how lucky he was to have a beautiful woman and handsome son. He was only concerned about the picture. In the movie, The Picture of Dorian Gray, Dorian was only concerned about his outer appearance, while he rotted inside from his horrible deeds.

  Robert and I arrived at the party that was for the oil executives at Galaxy Oil. The company had dealings with a well-known company that was now bankrupt. The entire evening Robert was nowhere to be found. I saw him whispering and walking in circles with a few of the executives. He walked insanely when he was nervous and worried.

  As we drove home after the dinner, I ventured to ask Robert, “What is wrong? You look pensive, you are in deep thought.” I was long past concerning myself with Robert; I was asking to find out whether he was vulnerable enough to allow me to take Sean to Italy. I had to ask permission to take my son out of the state and country. I was on the verge of screaming into the night.

  “Robert I have never been to Europe, and I would like to take Sean with me to Italy,” I glanced over at Robert.

  “I’m not going to let you take Sean anywhere.”

  “Please Robert let me take him. I don’t want to be away from him so long.”

  “I can rent a place in the country and bring the housekeeper to take care of him while I
write for my magazine.”

  “No! No, and don’t ask again.”

  “Who are you going with, that bastard? You think I don’t know what you have been up to?”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “You think I don’t? I know that he is in to drugs, so he will never get Sean. I read and I keep up with him and you. I know where you are every minute,” he said raising his head with an air of confidence.

  “I knew when you flew to Los Angeles and he decked an actor over you. I knew when you went to that club in New York and you slapped him. It’s in the papers, and now they say he is a druggy. Do you think I’m going to allow you to bring Sean around that drug addict?”

  “Sean is Danny’s son not yours!” I screamed.

  I despised Robert more each day as he began telling me about Danny. I wasn’t about to let him control my life. I made up my mind to bring an end to this horrible nightmare.

  We arrived at Robert’s home only to hear the phone ring. Robert answered the phone.

  “Who is this?”

  “Who do you want to speak to?”

  After a pause: “I want to speak to my son.”

  “Listen here Danny, I’m not going to let you talk to him, ever, but you can talk to Sydney.” Robert said with a wide grin dancing all over his face. He handed the phone to me.

  Danny was high and wanted to talk to Sean. Robert wouldn’t let him speak to Sean, but he could speak to me, Robert enjoyed the power he had over Danny, and Danny sank deeper into despair.

  “Sydney, I miss you and I want to see my son.” He said, slurring his words. I knew he was drunk or high.”

  “Danny you are high, don’t you know what you are doing to yourself.”

  “The only thing I’m doing is trying to

  make it through the night…Sydney I love you.” I heard a voice in the background drown out his plea. “Danny, come to bed.”

  “Danny go to bed! You are screwing around with your life and my son’s life,” I yelled. I was so jealous I could die.

  “What about my life with you?” he said sounding like a little boy.