by Tom Corbett
Rachel put the letter down. Should she be reading this? It seemed too personal to her, as if she were a voyeur into a private tryst. Part of her scolded her conscience to put it back. But he had given her the file. He must have known the contents. But maybe not; he struck her as so disorganized that she wondered how he had managed to survive adulthood, get tenure, and achieve some professional notoriety. But that was too harsh, she eventually concluded. He did want her to read about his inner life. This was his way of reaching out. She could read or not as she wished. He would not force himself on her. If she did continue, she would choose to embrace his world. If not, they would continue as if nothing had changed. After a pause, she picked up the note once again.
You looked deeply into my eyes as I leaned over you. I thought I sensed your lips trembling but that must have been my imagination. I would start by kissing your forehead and then your nose and cheeks and then your soft, accepting lips. Each touch would be gentle, exploring, as if I were mapping your body to store in my head for a long absence, perhaps anticipating that I might never see you again. Eventually I would move on to your ears, which always would generate a giggle and a squirm from you before moving down your long neck. Here, my tongue would reach out to sense the surface or your skin and taste the tangy sheen of salt from the sea air.
Your shoulders and chest inexorably led to your breasts where the presence of my mouth and tongue elicited a spontaneous gasp. I cupped them in my hands as I played with your nipples, my tongue flicking across them lightly or running small circles around them. Involuntary gasps continued as you grabbed my head and hair. I sensed you guiding me down your body and obeyed. My mouth slowly found my way along the length of your stomach and hips until they located your inner thighs. Now the gasps were frequent and more pronounced. I was close, so close to where you wanted me, but I tarried longer until I thought I heard one tiny word, “please.”
I navigated my mouth to that place between your legs where nerves fire with uncontrolled savagery. Now I felt increasing urgency as my mouth frantically sought out your clitoris and the surrounding tissue and flesh. Your whole body was now squirming and tremoring, the gasps becoming audible groans. I wanted to stay there forever, pleasuring you, but I could hear above the roar of my own brain the word “now, now please.” And so, I raised up and thrust myself slowly into you. Your whole pelvis arched in acceptance and need. It is always difficult to recall the acts of completion. The rhythm of our bodies being one moved from slow appreciation to frantic need and back again, several times. Eventually, we found a rhythm that matched the pounding surf nearby.
Later, we cuddled as we often did, with bodies spent by the ultimate expression of intimacy. Your body would be intertwined with mine so that I could imagine our separate identities merging. It would not be you and I but us. We could look up through the swaying palms to the moon and stars above, wondering what the sky would look like if we were back near Provincetown among the dunes. Would we notice any differences? But what would it matter, we would be together.
With all my love,
Josh
She stared at the letter for some time. Wait, this could not be her brother. How many times had she uttered this in her mind since last night. She had never seen him express much passion in his life, at least not for the opposite sex. Oh, he would take some efforts to satisfy his momentary lust, as do all men, but little beyond that, which is how it seemed to her. Why was that? she thought. He had had plenty of women; they had always flocked to him and, if he was to be believed, had purchased the services of many others. He had never lacked for physical release. But that was not the same as emotional intimacy; every woman knew that though she was not sure what men understood. Men struck Rachel as being woefully dense and irretrievably shallow.
A disturbing thought struck her. Nowhere else had he ever intimated love in his life. Perhaps this was it—he had confessed as much at least obliquely. But if their only intimate congress was in these written testimonies to a love never completed, never consummated, that would be sad indeed. He had left Eleni when he had abandoned the family and his life in the States. He had abandoned everyone. Knowing how much he had loved this woman, perhaps there were compelling reasons for his actions. Maybe it was not whim, the search for new adventures, becoming tired with his ordinary life. She had imagined all kinds of reasons for his behavior back when he had broken her heart. Maybe, just maybe, there was something that could justify his callousness.
She selected some letters from adjacent areas in the pile. She glanced at a few before selecting one that talked about him and Eleni spending time in various parts of Europe. There was Prague, and Barcelona, and Dubrovnik. For each such destination, he would describe what they would do in each place, describing streets of charm and history as well as locations that should never be missed. He talked about each in an intimate way as if he were using the written word to share what was most special to him. She read the Dubrovnik description with care. In luxurious language, he described looking down at this Yugoslavian gem, the red roof tiles of the ancient walled community set against the pale blue Adriatic Sea. Rachel could almost feel what he was describing. He was even more enthusiastic about a small seaside village, which he called Primostin in the letter. This ancient walled town, little more than a village, was situated on a hill that rose out of the water, connected to the land by a narrow bridge of sand and rock. From the shore, the outline of the village was pasted against the sunset’s colors. It sounded magical.
In another, there were long drives through Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. These were destinations of beauty and wildness and historical significance. Again, he wove personal narratives that were his best attempts to share a virtual reality with this person he had loved so passionately. He had been to Europe many times, often in lieu of trips to the States, which he had avoided for a long time out of fear. That must have hampered his career. But why was he writing to this woman he loved about such adventures rather than sharing them with her first-hand? These letters were written long after the notes exploring his angst and despair, and after he had been to all these places. There was no way he could have spoken about them with such undeniable authenticity had they not been rooted in personal experience. Rachel concluded that he must have been in contact with her over a long period of time, even to recent times. The questions mounted within her.
She thought she heard sounds from downstairs. The thought crossed Rachel’s mind that Cate and Meena were having noisy sex. She wondered if Josh had earplugs. Listening to her daughter would be like listening to her parents, which fortunately did not happen often, a fact that made her thankful. But the noises were probably just the sounds of them getting ready for the day. She jumped up, wanting to be ready when they emerged from downstairs. At the same time, she wanted to spend more time with Josh’s letters and notes. She scooped up all the material and deposited them in her bedroom. Then she slipped on some clothes and moved to the kitchen to make coffee.
Cate and Meena soon emerged from the lower level. They looked refreshed and more relaxed than the day before.
“Morning, Mom.” Cate kissed Rachel on the cheek.
Rachel looked over at Meena, who seemed uncertain about what she should do. Rachel walked to her and kissed her on the cheek. “Good morning, Meena, hope you slept well.”
“Just great,” she replied. “A lot better than the night before.”
Josh came through the door with Morris, who stopped as if he were surprised once again by the presence of others in his domain. But the dog recovered quickly and waddled over to his food bowl, which he found full, thanks to Rachel. Josh, on the other hand, wandered over to Cate and Meena to kiss them on their cheeks and wish them a fine day.
Cate laughed. “What is going on, affection among the Connelly clan? Someone call 911, at least the EMTs. I think this is late breaking news with film at 11.”
“Sarcasm, my dear,” Josh said with a smile, “will not get you a free breakfast.”
; Cate had something to say and turned serious. “By the way, everyone, I am legally changing my name.”
“To what?” Josh asked and then realized the likely answer.
“To Connelly, of course. I want nothing more to do with the Ballentine clan, nothing. This is my family, right here, the two of you, and Meena of course.”
Rachel and Josh looked at each other. “Okay,” Josh replied, “but remember that there are many horse thieves and miscreants among these branches on the family tree.”
Cate laughed and looked directly at Josh. “Oh, I think that the biggest crook and miscreant in this room is the lug standing by the stove.” Then Cate noticed a change in Josh’s face and went silent.
“Okay,” he said, “I have to hide in my office now to work on some brilliant comments for this afternoon. You will all be there, right, when they say all those lies about me and give me a gold watch or whatever. My watch will probably have a cute image of Mickey Mouse on it.”
“And that would still be more than you deserve.” Cate beamed. “I would not miss this for the world.”
Rachel followed Josh into his office. She wanted to catch him outside of Cate and Meena’s presence. “Listen, you can enlighten me on one thing.”
“Rachel, you underestimate me. I’m sure I can enlighten you on so much. You’re merely a technician of the body while I am an observer of God’s wonders.”
“Yes, yes, we all know you’re a genius.” She was not to be put off by his wit. “These notes and letters you gave me. I can’t quite figure out what’s going on.”
“Really, my tortured soul eludes you?”
For a moment, she considered slapping the crooked smile off his face. “A lot of these were from your first year or so in Canada. But some of these messages look as if they cover a long-time period. A number look quite recent. I’m confused about the timeline of everything.”
He leaned back in his chair, looking at her. She had her game face on, he could see that. She would not be dissuaded by a cute quip. “The first reality is that she would not join me in my exile in Canada. I’m not sure I even asked her outright.”
Rachel protested. “But you asked her to marry you.”
“True,” he uttered the word slowly, “but it was a rather pathetic proposal. I wanted her and I was desperately afraid she might want me back. I wrote these letters, but I never went back and looked in her eyes. I never asked her up in a way that she might come and join me. Maybe, at the time, I wanted her to turn me down, knew it was the best thing for her to do. Then she married someone else, I thought it was over and destroyed all her letters to me. And for the next three decades, I thought of no one except her, despite all the others. I have kicked myself for my cowardice every day.”
“But the descriptions of Goa, and Dubrovnik, and Scotland, and all those other places.”
“Several years ago, after a decades-long gap, I found her on Facebook. Wonderful tool it is. I remember agonizing as much over sending a message to her as I did asking her out on our first date. But I did, a kind of ‘do you remember me and how is life treating you’ message. I wasn’t sure she would respond. She did. Immediately, we were bonded as we were back in the 1960s. It was as if nothing had happened, as if our last interaction had happened the day before.”
“Let me cut to the chase here,” Rachel inserted.
“You always were the no-nonsense one.”
“Why isn’t she here? Why aren’t the two of you together? Damn it, I’ve never seen you want a woman ever, not really. And you share this with me, but the sharing seems more to drive me nuts than help me understand. And in fact, I don’t understand. I want to, but you’re playing games, teasing me.”
Josh winced a bit. “I really should work on my communication skills.”
Rachel scowled. “You know what? You’re being a childish shit here. Just tell me, asshole.”
Josh’s eyes widened a bit. “Wow, you have become the big sister here, more the parent. You make a good one by the way—a good parent.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, buster.” She was not smiling.
“I’ve been obtuse, I fear,” he admitted.
“Obtuse my ass, you’ve been outright evasive.”
“Listen, I wasn’t sure you would be interested in all this. We’ve been apart for so long, I am not sure you cared much anymore. I suppose I started giving you these things as bread crumbs. If you followed them, I would give you more. It would mean you cared.”
“I care, numbnuts, get it. I have always cared. I cared when you were part of my life, I cared when you disappeared. Okay, then I was pissed, but I cared. I cared all those years when we passed each other as if we were no more than casual friends. I always cared. Every day of my life I cared. I may not always have shown it, but I cared with every fiber of my being. Just how many goddamn brothers do you think I have? Besides Cate, you’re it.” She caught herself, fearing her rising voice would carry.
He looked in her eyes before turning once again to the deep archeological site composed of paper detritus that captured important moments of his life. He pulled out another file. “Look at some of these. Then we will talk. But not now, okay?”
Rachel took the folder and, without another word, exited his office. An hour later, Josh made his goodbyes and left the house. As he backed out of the driveway, another car pulled up in front. It was Usha, arriving to help Cate and Meena as promised. He jumped out to greet her.
“You have arrived to save the day, I suspect,” he said as he gave her a big hug. It once again surprised him that his body responded to her touch. He made a mental note to call one of his professional women after all this was over. It had been a while. Still, he had to admit that her body had always been attractive. She had always been slim and shapely, which sometimes posed a problem when they were nominally married. They slept in separate rooms, but there were times when his needs and the sight of her alluring body presented him with a temptation that he worked damn hard not to act upon. On occasion, though, she must have guessed his desires and would take him by the hand to her bedroom. “You don’t have to do this,” he would protest. “I know,” she would respond, “but some of this is quite nice, actually.” He was never totally sure which part she was talking about or whether she really was thanking him for giving her lifestyle cover. In any case, he was grateful. Often enough, one or the other wanted human contact during the night. They would share a bed for the sake of intimacy, simple human touch, as opposed to sex.
“I’ll do my best,” she responded when the hug was over, “and I’m also glad I ran into you.”
“Funny, that’s what all the girls say.” She gave the briefest smile to his witticism. If she had any shortcoming, she was not totally comfortable with the easy exchange of insults. Her proper Indian upbringing gave her a somewhat more formal approach to things. He looked her over. “You are striking today, even wearing some casual though very chic Indian attire. Anything special planned?”
She was wearing a colorful form-fitting outfit with white leggings that were far more comfortable than a sari but still suggested her heritage. “One of my favorite people is retiring today.” She smiled.
“Do I know him?” Josh deadpanned.
Usha ignored him. “Seriously, I have a question, so shush.” But then she paused, looking uncertain.
“And that is?”
“Oh, this is difficult.” She paused once more.
“Ah, we have seen each other naked. What can’t we talk about?”
“For me,” she said, “that makes it more difficult.”
“Usha, it is just me. You can be open with me. You know how much I care for you.”
“Here goes,” she said with more conviction. “I want to ask you about Rachel. What is her…sexual preference?” She started talking faster. “I mean, from what I know, she hasn’t had any male attachments since her marriage. So, I was just wondering…she seems so nice, like you…”
“On no, much better than me. But
let me get this right, you want to hit on my sister.” Josh had a devilish smile on his face, but inside, his mind was racing.
“Oh please, don’t make this more difficult than it is.”
“I’m sorry, Usha, really. That damn wit, you can’t take out what God has put in, as the saying goes. But the reality is, I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m ashamed about that. Rachel and I were so close as kids. Siblings usually fight and we did tease each other, but we were darn close. And now, now, I’m finally getting to know her all over again. Scary, but nice I think.”
“Perhaps I should not even consider…”
Josh’s mind was slowing to a conclusion. “Usha, you’re lonely, I can tell. You need to be with another person.”
“Everyone does, except you apparently.”
Josh considered this and could not disagree. “You want my advice. Well, it does not matter since I’m giving it anyways. Go for it. All she can say is that she is not interested. But if she is, you just may be the answer to a question she probably has not permitted herself to ask.”
“Are you sure?” She remained uncertain.
“No, I’m not. But I am very, very certain that she needs someone in life. I was supposed to be that someone, in a sense, but talk about counting on the wrong horse.” Josh then turns very serious. “She’s not like me. She is tough and independent, but I still sense she wants someone in her life. She hasn’t said so as such, but I get the feeling that she has done everything professionally that she wanted to do. My best guess, she’s looking ahead and sees a lonely future. This time around, she wants to connect with someone who will love her. Will you love her?”
“It is a thought…” And with that, Usha continued into the house.
An hour later, Josh was hiding in his university office when he heard an insistent knock on the door.
“I’m not here,” he tried.
“Josh, it is Ellison.”
Josh grimaced. “Do you know the password?”
