A Little Bit of Everything Lost

by Stephanie Elliot

  She gained some composure and moved so that he rolled over and she lifted herself onto him.

  “My turn,” she said as she grabbed a lemon wedge and began squeezing it onto his skin. His tanned chest was rising and falling. She abandoned the lemon, found some sugar and coated him. She picked up the lemon again, sucked hard on it, dunked it into the sugar bowl and sucked the fruit some more.

  “You know what would taste really good?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “A lemon lollipop.”

  She helped him out of his boxers and she took him in her hands, cupped him, felt him pulsing. She took one of the melting ice cubes and dripped it onto the tip of him. With each drop, his penis jumped. She wanted him to feel the desire and recklessness he had caused in her.

  She took the ice cube into her mouth, and then plunged her lips onto him, licking gently up and down at first, then moving lower, taking the soft underneath into her mouth, and sucking just firm enough.

  “Oh God, don’t do that.”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “Don’t do what?” she mumbled, ice melting in her mouth.

  “That. What you were just doing.”

  “This?” And she repeated her motions, slowly at first, making quiet sucking noises, feeling the water drip from the cube, out of her mouth, onto him. He continued to moan. She loved making him feel this way, so she sped up, moving her tongue in circles, then plunging all the way down to the end, rubbing him below at the same time.

  It didn’t take long, and since there was sugar and lemon to cover anything that might taste less than good, she sucked and sucked while he convulsed, and the heat of him melted away the last of the ice chip in her mouth. She didn’t stop until she heard him sigh, and then she took him out of her mouth, and licked him up and down until he was smooth and clean and no longer sourly sweet.

  “Now I’m really thirsty.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  November 2004

  I’m going to send it this year.” Marnie had made this proclamation to Collete for the past seven or eight years without fail.

  “Of course you are,” Collette said, as she did, every year.

  “Really, I have to now,” Marnie said rather convincingly. “I know he’s coming to town. I have to send a Christmas card this year. No matter where he lives, if I send one to his parent’s address, he’ll get it.”

  “It’s a little early for a Christmas card isn’t it?”

  “So what? It’ll be like a holiday card. It’s practically the holidays anyway.”

  Collette put her coffee mug down and looked at her friend.

  “Marnie.”

  Marnie smiled. She loved Collette to pieces. She knew her so well.

  “It’s just… ” Just what? That she’s so tired of not knowing. That she has to get her life together.

  “I want to know. I want some answers. I want closure. I really need to find out what happened to him. I have to do this. I deserve to know.”

  “Look, if you dredge up the past… You’ve got too much good going on in your life. Things aren’t that bad when you think about it, are they?”

  “What do I have?” Marnie asked. “Really? A marriage that’s practically written itself; post-partum depression over a… what? A baby I didn’t even get to love? That’s a joke! A three-day week marriage where we inevitably argue about finances or the boys, where we sidestep our grief and instead go out with friends or to dinner or to soccer games and pretend it’s working for us.

  You know, Stuart hasn’t exactly been very emotionally supportive.”

  “I know… I know these past five months have been excruciating for you. And you know I love you, but please, please don’t take this the wrong way, but with Stuart gone so much, and Trey and Jeremy so active, they’re so busy with soccer, and school, and, and… ”

  “Don’t you dare tell me that was a god-damned blessing.”

  “I would never.”

  “I know,” Marnie whimpered, then looked at Collette with tears in her eyes. “But I can’t keep moving like this. Like… I’m in mud. Like there’s fog everywhere. I have to stop it from the beginning. Can’t you understand I need to talk to him? And to fix myself. I’m a mess. I have been. Forever. Since he first came into my life. You of all people should know, more than anyone else. You were there.”

  Collette nodded, “I do know.”

  “I have to let him know what happened. God, Collette, he doesn’t even know. It’s not like I’m still in love with the guy. It was a fling. One summer. One Christmas break. With a heartbreaking end, a horrible ending for me. I really think something happened with him, and there’s more to it.” Marnie said.

  “If he’s coming into town later this month, this might be my only chance to get the closure I need. And he deserves to know what happened.”

  Marnie sighed. “And you know what? Whatever happened on his end, well, I deserve to know why. I deserve to know what happened too.”

  **

  The words wouldn’t come.

  Finally, after chewing on the pen, refilling her coffee mug three times, folding a load of laundry, going through the mail and eating a stale bagel, she sat and wrote.

  Dear Joe,

  I’m sure you never expected to hear from me after all these years, and I’m not even certain you will receive this letter as I’ve addressed it to the only place I remembered. So, if you don’t receive this personally, I hope whoever does can send it your way.

  Do you remember our summer together? I do. I remember it all, and think fondly back to our time together, and wanted to let you know I was glad to have made that connection with you, for although it was short, it was also an important and memorable time in my life.

  I was learning who I was, what I wanted, who I longed to be.

  Because of you, I am the person I am today.

  If you would like to catch up, I’ve included my email.

  With fond memories and wishes for a happy holiday season.

  Marnie Kretts-Werner

  mkretts-w@hotmail.com

  Marnie looked at the clock. Two hours had passed since she first sat down to compose the letter. She quickly sealed it, stamped it, handwrote his parent’s address on the envelope and attached a return address label. She was fairly certain that he no longer lived in the same state, but took the card to the mailbox before she could change her mind about sending it.

  She heard the rumble of the school bus coming up the street.

  Smile, Marnie, smile. It’s time to play Mom.

  Chapter Seventeen

  August 1988

  Marnie squeezed Joe’s hand, her fingernails pinching into his skin as they reached the doorstep to the colonial house.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, squeezing the tips of her fingers back.

  “I’m a little freaked out about meeting your friends.”

  “Don’t be; they’ll love you.”

  Of course, when the L word slipped from his lips, her heart stopped hoping he’d continue with, “They’ll love you, just like I do.”

  Instead, Joe swept her bangs from her eyes, kissed her forehead, and let himself in the front door, still holding tightly to her hand.

  In a few weeks summer would be over. Soon they would no longer be together, and who knew when they would see each other next; for they hadn’t discussed anything beyond the next day.

  Had he asked, Marnie knew she would be able to commit to a relationship. She knew at this point she would be able to turn down any guy at school, say no if someone asked her to dance, or go for a drink, or come home with him, which, in the past, she had done. But that was all before Joe. Now she knew. She was sure Joe was all she wanted, for she had never given so much of herself to one person and in such a short amount of time, and had never felt so secure in doing so. Never.

  The music – Any Way You Want It – pulsated through the house. Marnie heard laughter out back. Joe led her through the foyer, where a couple crouched near the stairwa
y, the girl so close to the guy, so near his face, and so angry, Marnie thought she might spit on him.

  Through the hallway, they walked on oriental rugs and past original canvassed modern paintings probably worth thousands. Joe steered her toward the noise, to the back of the house, where the music swelled and the party came alive. Through curtains of smoke – a purple bong was being passed around the kitchen table – Marnie could make out people but was sure she didn’t know anyone. She was hoping to see a familiar face, maybe someone she had graduated with, but she recognized no one. Not kids from her high school, not her crowd.

  Feeling tiny and insecure, she pressed closer to Joe. She coughed; a cloud of marijuana in her face. Someone shouted, “Keg’s over there,” and Joe gently steered Marnie in the direction of the beer, his hands possessively on her hips.

  As he pumped the tap, Joe looked at her, intensely. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s just weird. I don’t know anyone here.”

  “We’ll go outside – there won’t be as much smoke,” he assured.

  Joe took two yellow Solo beer cups, foamy and filled, and Marnie grabbed onto his elbow as he pushed through the growing crowd. There were so many people crammed into the house. She hadn’t expected it to be a big party; Joe had said “just a couple of friends” were getting together. Sorority girls strutted around in their house gear, wearing letters across their chest, on necklaces, and wrapped around their wrists in wooden beads and hemp bracelets. They laughed as one relayed a story about being so drunk she passed out while sitting on the toilet. Others looked at Marnie like she was an outcast, and she was, all things considered. This wasn’t her territory. These weren’t her friends. She hadn’t even rushed a sorority at her college.

  Outside, the cool summer air caressed her cheeks and calmed Marnie. A long sip of her beer settled into her empty stomach and she felt her body loosen up a bit, her limbs relaxed. I can do this, she thought. I can be charming and witty and fun. She took another long swallow, smiled at the guy who Joe introduced her to, put out her hand to shake his. She laughed when he made a comment about Joe coming around with another “babe,” decided she already did not like this guy, and took another long sip of beer.

  By her third beer, Marnie was completely relaxed. With her beer buzz came confidence. She and Joe found seats at the white wrought-iron table outside, and he stayed near her, protectively. She loved the feeling of having him nearby, was glad all the girls at the party knew she had come with him. She was even sharing her own stories of the first week in college, and those at the table laughed about how she had been so homesick the first night, she and her roommate went back to their dorm, ordered a pizza, and cried.

  “That’s what happens to the freshman. You get a little sad, you order a pizza! The freshman fifteen, in no time at all!” Marnie said, lifted her beer and drank.

  “Yeah, like you even gained the freshman fifteen,” Gena countered, a plump girl who had been very sweet to Marnie all night. Marnie liked her instantly, mostly because she hadn’t given Marnie the evil-eye like other girls had, and also because she wasn’t sporting sorority gear.

  “Oh yeah I did. I came home that Thanksgiving and my dad was like, ‘What happened to you?’ I didn’t speak to him the whole time I was home!” Marnie said.

  Joe squeezed her elbow. “You girls want another beer?” The other guys at the table started talking football, and Gena and Marnie both handed Joe their cups. Gena lit up a cigarette, one of those slim Capris, and asked Marnie if she wanted one.

  “No thanks,” Marnie replied.

  Joe rose from his chair, kissed Marnie on the cheek, “Be right back.” Marnie turned back to Gena, who was sharing tales of love and woe, slurring her words, but Marnie didn’t mind; her words were coming out mish-mashy too.

  Joe came back with their beers but didn’t sit back down. Instead, he placed his hand on Marnie’s back. “Do you mind if I go back inside? I just ran into another buddy.”

  “Sure, go ahead. I’m fine,” Marnie said.

  Dave, the guy who referred to Marnie as one of Joe’s ‘babes,’ said, “I’ll take care of her for ya!”

  “Sure he will,” another guy joked. Marnie was enjoying the attention. She thought it might be okay for Joe to feel a little jealous, like she felt when they first arrived. It would maybe bring him back to the table sooner. Marnie drank more as she listened to Dave, the other guy, and Gena talk about some party they were at the weekend before where the cops showed up. The beers were getting to her; she wished there was something to eat; and the music, now Violent Femmes, soaked into her tingly skin. There were only so many times Marnie could listen to the words “Why can’t I get, just one screw” and not want to go home and do exactly that with the person who she most wanted to do it with.

  Marnie could see Joe in the bright kitchen from where she sat. He was animated, his hands flying above his head as he told a story, explained a joke maybe. Those around him laughed. She loved looking at him like this, watching him with his friends, making them laugh. She was happy he invited her, that he wanted her to meet his friends. She imagined he was telling his friends about her, about how he was falling madly into crazy-sexy love with her, and how they wouldn’t be staying long because he needed to take her home and do something crazy-sexy to her. She continued to watch him from the corner of her eye, and laughed when others at the table laughed.

  Someone suggested they play “Thumper.” She remembered this drinking game from high school, and it had seemed so fun then, doing crazy hand motions, trying to get others to mess up, but now, it just seemed stupid. Still, she played, all the while wishing Joe would come take her from this; take her home for some sexy-crazy.

  They started a round of “Have You Ever,” the same game that had led Joe and Marnie into that bedroom the first night. Joe was still inside – Marnie could see him – and she thought she saw the purple bong being passed around the kitchen table, but couldn’t be sure.

  A few others joined them outside, eager to find out what everyone had been up to over the summer. One of the girls, who Marnie was certain had sneered at her earlier, sat down with a brawny football guy. The new girl called football boy Big Oaf, and plunked herself right onto his lap. She drank, not crappy keg beer, but her own six-pack of imported bottles. She drank like a professional, had perfectly plucked eyebrows, naturally blond curly hair, and eyelids that were lined like a movie star. And she would not stop staring at Marnie.

  “Don’t you work at The Bean?” Import Bottle Girl finally asked.

  “Yeah. I do,” Marnie answered.

  “Yeah. I thought so. Their coffee sucks,” Import Bottle Girl said.

  “Sorry you feel that way,” Marnie shot back. Gena tapped Marnie on the knee, a gesture that said for Marnie not to let it get to her.

  Marnie had been just buzzed enough to let Import Bottle Girl’s comment slide, and the game continued. If a question was asked, and players had done that thing before, players drank. Simple rules for a simple drinking game.

  Have you ever made out with another girl?

  Have you ever faked it?

  Have you ever snorted coke?

  Have you ever done it in a pool?

  Have you ever masturbated in front of someone?

  When Import Bottle Girl lifted her beer to drink at the masturbation question, Big Oaf said, “Yeah Trina!” and a couple other guys cheered.

  Trina drank long and slow and purposeful, enjoying the attention, watching Marnie’s reaction from the corner of her eye. Her tongue circled the rim of the green bottle and then she gave Marnie what she knew was the “you’re-a-bitch-and-don’t-belong-here” glare. Marnie felt it. Gena nudged Marnie again under the table and whispered, “Ignore it,” to which Marnie smiled. Gena knew something was up; it wasn’t just in Marnie’s head. Gena knew this girl was trouble and was letting Marnie know.

  Others came over to the table to see what was going on because Trina’s admission had caused quite a reaction among the
guys. Marnie watched as Trina toyed with the neck of the beer bottle again.

  “Phallic symbol much?” Gena whispered to Marnie.

  “Okay. My turn,” Trina took another sip. “Hold on, I’m thinking of a good one,” she said.

  Marnie was getting tired of this. She was done drinking, and this girl was annoying her. She wanted to leave, but she felt if she were to get up, she would be wobbly. She was so over the game, and so over the party and the girl’s obvious attitude toward her. But Joe hadn’t come back for her yet, and she could no longer see him in the kitchen. Marnie figured he had gone to the bathroom, and then would come get her, but he hadn’t returned.

  “Come on, already, Trina. Think of your question, or you lose your turn!” Dave yelled.

  “Okay, okay.” One more gulp of her import.

  “Have you ever… let’s see… ” Trina said slowly.

  She adjusted herself onto Big Oaf’s lap, and Marnie wanted to ask him if he had to pay for the lap dance. The girl was a slut. Marnie could tell.

  “Okay, here’s one.” Trina paused for effect and took another long swig of her beer while everyone waited. Then she raised one eyebrow, cocked her head, and stared cold and hard at Marnie.

  “Have you ever made lemonade?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  November 2004

  “Mommy?”

  Trey was snuggled into his bed, under his covers and had been in his room for more than an hour. Marnie thought he had been asleep, and was on her way up to bed for the night when she opened the door to check on him one last time.

  “You’re still awake honey?”

  “I can’t sleep.”