Faltering

by Jennifer Lyndon

  Ideas of returning to Chicago kept sneaking through my mind as we were perusing the racks at one of Lara’s favorite clothing boutiques. After our lunch with friends of hers, from the Garden Society that day, she had driven us to an appointment at the beauty parlor, where she had her hair trimmed and set. Afterward, she decided we needed to stop off for some shopping. Lara balked at my suggestion that we return to her house. I watched as she examined a pantsuit skeptically. I understood her hesitance with the outfit. Lara always wore the most feminine of dresses. Imagining her in pants was next to impossible for me at that time, not to mention, strangely unsettling.

  “What do you think of this suit, Sylvie?” she asked quietly. I studied it, wondering what was going through her head. It was a three-piece suit, black, with very straight lines, almost masculine in the cut. I reached out and lifted the little vest and held it against me.

  “Honestly, I can’t picture you wearing that, Lara,” I answered easily. “It’s too severe for you.”

  “Well, yeah, of course it is. I meant on you, you goose. I think you’d look really sexy in it,” she offered in a low voice next to my ear. “Want to try it on?” I shook my head no, taking a step back. “Please? Won’t you indulge me?” I liked the expression on her face, captivated, energetic, with a spark of something deeper.

  “Why not?” I said, as my heart skipped into gear. She grinned and immediately started searching the rack for my size.

  “What are you, a four?” I shrugged. “Well I think you must be a four, or a six maybe. I’ll grab one of each.” She started collecting clothes, and then a shirt caught her eye. “Sylvie, pick up that white silk blouse.” I nodded and did as I was told. Quickly checking to make sure the blouse was a small, I followed her back to the fitting room. A tall attractive woman, about Lara’s age, with auburn hair, headed us off in an attempt to relieve Lara of her selections. She was obviously a saleslady. Lara shook her head stiffly and refused to release the hangers. “We can manage, Marlene,” she said sharply.

  “If you’ll just open a room for us,” I offered. The woman nodded and walked ahead of us, offering Lara an injured glance.

  “Let me know if I can help you find something, Lara,” the woman said in her slow southern drawl. She was trying to be helpful. Lara shook her head without speaking, halting her pace for a step, as if needing distance. I smiled at the woman.

  “I think we’ve found what we were looking for already,” I said, in an effort at being polite. “We’ll let you know,” I replied. The woman nodded and left us. I turned to look at Lara questioningly.

  “Since when does she work here?” Lara asked in a sharp tone, obviously irritated. I spotted the woman across the store, talking to another customer, and watched her a moment as I puzzled over Lara’s reaction. “Get in here, honey,” she called from the dressing room. I went to her and she eased past me and out into the sitting area.

  I closed the door and stared at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a knee length navy skirt with a burgundy sweater. The outfit wasn’t great, mind you, but I really hadn’t thought much about my clothes that morning. As I stared at myself in the mirror, I stripped without much interest. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually been in a dressing room. Usually I just picked up clothes in my size and purchased them without much thought. I slowly slipped on the first pants noticing the broad flare at the bottom. They were too big, bagging in the stomach and hip areas, so I slipped them off and reached for the others. The second pair fit nicely. I tried the shirt next, with the little black vest. It fit really well. I picked up the jacket, noticing the large, sharp, three-inch lapels for the first time, and then stepped out of the dressing room to get Lara’s opinion. She said nothing for a moment as I held my breath.

  “What?” I asked nervously. I looked down at the pants, my bare feet peeking out from under the flared hem. “Is something wrong?” I handed her the jacket and scrutinized my image in the three-way mirror. Nothing appeared out of place. I glanced back at her questioningly.

  “Honey, you look absolutely mouthwatering.” She bit her bottom lip. “You have to wear this next time we see Dickie Lee. She’ll get all hot and squirmy and have to keep crossing and uncrossing her legs just from looking at you. I’d give most anything to watch her trying to play cool. What was it she asked you today, your mother’s maiden name?” Lara laughed quietly.

  Dickie Lee Davies was one of the women we’d had lunch with that day. She asked me pointedly how I knew Lara, but Lara interrupted her before I could respond, offering some tale about knowing me forever, even changing my diapers when I was a baby, our mothers being childhood friends and all. When Dickie Lee mentioned that my accent was strange Lara went into detail about how I was a nurse at a big hospital in Chicago. It was uncomfortable being discussed as if I weren’t sitting there.

  “I’m only trying on, Lara, not buying,” I said. She nodded. “I can’t afford to spend this much on a suit. Mamma’s not back on her feet yet, and…”

  “Try the jacket on too,” she said, interrupting my explanation. I shrugged and accepted it from her outstretched hand, and then slipped it on. I must admit that it looked really nice. I glanced over at her and noticed she was eyeing my naked feet.

  “We’ll have to get you some new shoes too,” she said softly. My cheeks started getting hot as I thought back to the last time she’d dressed me up, when I was only a girl. She watched me, enjoying my frustration.

  “I don’t need new shoes,” I whispered. “I don’t need any of this.” She stood behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders, her mouth close to my ear.

  “Maybe not, but I need to buy them for you,” she said in a sultry tone. She unfastened my hairclip and ran her fingers through my hair, freeing it. “You will not deny me these little pleasures,” she commanded. “Not when I restrain myself in every other way with you.” I stared at her lips in the mirror, noting the cunning expression on her face. She was getting a kick out of making me into some kind of fantasy. My mamma’s advice about boundaries with rich people played in my head.

  “I’m giving my notice,” I answered.

  “What?” Her voice rose sharply.

  “You don’t need a nurse anymore,” I explained. “And I won’t be your pet.” She shook her head. “You’re just bored, and I don’t blame you. I actually feel sorry for you, having those vapid women as friends, and nothing but mindless gossip and shopping to entertain you. I can’t fix that for you though, and twisting your way around in my head isn’t going to do either of us any good.” She stared, her posture becoming rigid. “I’m not your plaything, Lara,” I snapped, finally. She flinched as if I’d slapped her, and then watched me for a minute, her hazel eyes glued to mine. I grew nervous waiting for her to respond, as if awaiting the eruption of a volcano, the obliteration of the world, or at least the dressing room.

  “And this is how you see me,” she said quietly. Her voice was more restrained than I’d expected from her expression.

  She turned and walked away, leaving me alone in the dressing room. I changed quickly and hurried after her. When I found her out in the boutique she was talking to the saleslady. I watched her smile and nod, allowing the woman to actually touch her hair, smoothing it back. Lara never allowed people to touch her, only me. She turned to face me as I approached. Her eyes were slightly red, accusing me. She separated from the woman and met me at the front of the store.

  “I’m ready to go back home now,” she said sharply. I nodded and followed her out. She didn’t speak throughout the car ride.

  When we reached her home Lara told me I should take the rest of the day off. Without another word, she turned away from me and headed upstairs to her room. I didn’t know how to react at first, and so I simply stood in her living room, thinking. I realized I’d been too hard with her, but I didn’t know what to do to rectify my actions. After a few minutes sitting alone, I got up and left. I decided I would apologize in the morning.

  That night Mrs. Elgin
called me at my mamma’s house to tell me she appreciated all my help with Lara Leigh but I needn’t worry about her anymore. She explained that Lara had let her know I wanted to head back to Chicago. She was paying me for the next three weeks, but told me to consider it a bonus, as Lara claimed she didn’t need a nurse any longer. Apparently Lara deemed herself fully recovered. I didn’t know what to think, except that I’d handled everything poorly. The next morning I went to work as if nothing had changed. I wanted to set everything right with Lara.

  When I arrived at Lara’s home that morning, everything seemed off. Her husband was still in the house, which was strange. He stood in front of the coffeemaker with the can of coffee in his hand. He looked relieved when he saw me.

  “Hey, Sylvie, you know how to work this thing?” he asked good-naturedly. I nodded. “Great! I need a cup of coffee at least before I head in. I don’t suppose you could cook something for me?” I nodded again and went over to the coffeemaker. I wondered where the housekeeper was, and why Lara wasn’t up making his breakfast. I started his coffee and then went to the icebox to start his breakfast. I prepared fried eggs and toast with bacon, simple, but fast. I left him in the kitchen, happily eating, and headed up to check on Lara.

  When I reached her room I found her still curled up in bed. I didn’t want to wake her, so I sat on the loveseat and waited for her to rise on her own. About a half an hour later she started shifting around. When she sat up, she saw me in her room. She stared at me for some seconds before she lay back down again, pulling the covers over her head. I waited another twenty minutes before she sat up again. She stood from bed without acknowledging me, and went into the bathroom. I waited. When I heard her running bath water I knew she was planning to ignore me. I waited a few more minutes, trying to decide what to do. Finally, I went to the bathroom door and knocked. It swung slowly open, revealing Lara, naked and stepping into her bath. My eyes went straight to the scar on her belly, as I wondered why we’d never talked about it. She continued as if I were not there.

  “Lara.” I said her name as if it were a plea. She didn’t look up at me, but proceeded to lower herself down into the tub.

  “You’re not here anymore,” was her reply. Her words confused me.

  “Then where am I?”

  “Well, you’re here, obviously. I meant that you’re not supposed to be here. You don’t work for me anymore. Didn’t Mother phone you last night?” she asked sharply. “She promised she would. Regardless, I don’t want you anymore. Go away.”

  “Why are you so upset with me?” She went under the water rather than answering me. “Lara, talk to me. Please,” I said after she resurfaced.

  “Look. You got what you wanted from all of this. You’ve been well compensated for your services. And Hattie’s better now, right? I didn’t say anything against you if that’s what you’re worried about. I only told Mother I’m better, that I don’t need her to pay someone to hold my hand and babysit me anymore.” She picked up the soap and started lathering her washcloth. “Truly, I don’t understand why you’re here. I’d like you to leave. Now.” She turned to look back at me, meeting my eyes for the first time that morning. For some reason, I didn’t think she really wanted me to go. This was an act, or a tantrum. I shook my head no. “Really Sylvie? You don’t care about my feelings at all, do you?” I shook my head again. She sighed and went back under the water. She didn’t speak to me again as she finished her bath. She stepped out of the tub as if I weren’t there and walked past me, using a big pink towel to pat her body dry as she made her way through the bathroom. I was one step behind her.

  “Tell me why you’re so upset with me,” I insisted.

  “I refuse to explain what is obvious, Sylvie,” she snapped before shooting a scalding look my way. She slid her underwear drawer open, retrieving her bra and panties. I sank down onto her loveseat and held my head in my hands, feeling desperate. I couldn’t stand her coldness. She continued to ignore me as she fastened her stockings.

  “Please. Just talk to me.” My voice cracked and my nose started stinging. I was getting upset. When I looked up she was watching me. “Will you just give me a chance?” I pleaded. “I’m sorry, all right. I shouldn’t have said those things to you, but I can’t lose you.”

  After lifting a cream silk robe across her shoulders, with sharp movements, she tied it at her waist. She then stood completely still for what felt too long, watching me. Deciding, I think. For a moment I expected her to tell me to leave again, but instead, she crossed the distance between us to sit beside me on the loveseat. The light was low, and the curtains were still drawn, making the room seem strange to me, more intimate. She sat at the edge of the loveseat, as far from me as possible, her legs crossed away from me, but peeking out between the folds of her robe. I let my eyes move over her exposed calf, before travelling slowly up her body. I paused at her cleavage, imagining the suppleness I knew was there, before focusing on her eyes, darker than usual in the half-light. She studied me as she waited, for what I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t know what else to say. She appraised me for what seemed like eternity before letting out a faint sigh and shaking her head.

  “You’re as wrapped up as I am, only you’re too inexperienced to know what to do about it,” she finally said in a gentle tone. “It’s really no use, is it, protecting you?”

  Apparently she didn’t want an answer because she eased closer to me and, hesitantly, she kissed me, her soft lips brushing mine tentatively. The gentleness turned urgent as I parted my lips, allowing her tongue inside my mouth, tasting the sweetness of her toothpaste and wanting as much of her inside of me as possible. Within moments she was pressing me back on the loveseat, her hands skimming over my body. I was surprised to hear myself moan as her lips moved across my throat, her breath igniting my skin. My heart was pounding and I thought for a moment I might faint. She pulled back from me, her chest rising and falling quickly, as if she had just run across a field, her eyes sharply assessing my willingness.

  “Get up, Sylvie,” she commanded in a breathy voice, tugging my hand with both of hers as she stood and stepped back from me. “There’s more room on my bed.” I acquiesced, allowing her to lead me.

  She pushed me back roughly, causing me to fall in a sprawl across the mattress. With intensity coloring her gaze, her eyes took me in. In one graceful movement she was on me, straddling my hips. A sharp tug sent the buttons of my blouse flying across the room. She pulled my bra aside, her voracious mouth seizing my nipple. The warm wetness sent a shiver through me as her tongue curled around my nipple. Her fingers moved under my bra, seizing my other breast as she shifted her weight and a thigh pressed between my legs. I gasped as she rocked hard against me. I felt as if she would swallow me whole as her mouth greedily moved on to my other breast, freeing her hands to work between us, unfastening my pants. Shuddering slightly, she pulled away from me, leaving me exposed as she tugged my pants and panties over my thighs and away from me. She was back with me in an instant, her mouth finding mine again hungrily, devouring me.

  Her lips travelled across my jaw and over my throat, nibbling at my collarbone before reaching my breasts again. She raked her teeth across an already sensitive nipple, sending jolts through my body. She moved lower, biting against my ribs and bellybutton before she reached the smooth, sensitive skin beneath. She shifted my legs farther apart as she paused for a second at the hair between my legs. Slowly, she parted those other lips and ran her tongue across me. I heard her moan as my entire body flexed in response, tremors already coursing through me. She entered me with her finger as her tongue danced, licking and teasing my excruciatingly sensitive flesh. My body moved to the rhythm of her thrusts as her tongue danced. Agonizing pleasure flooded through me, more than I could bear, sending mounting waves of ecstasy through me until I was afraid I would explode. Finally, I did, my entire body tensing in something like a convulsion as my spine arched and my head pressed into the bed. My hands, which had found their way to her shoulders,
tightened in a powerful grip as a primal sound escaped my lips.

  As she withdrew from me, she rested her head against my thigh, her still damp hair tangled around my legs. I could feel her rapid breath against my skin, prompting me to reach my hand to her cheek and stroke the soft damp skin I found there. As my breathing slowed she lifted herself to her hands and knees and came to rest beside me, across her bed. I turned my head to meet her eyes. The anger from earlier had vanished from her gaze, replaced with a profound stillness, or a complete lack of tension rather. She lay back and stared at the ceiling as I willed her to speak, to say something to me, anything. Lara was still covered by her silk robe, making me feel exposed and untidy. I straightened my bra and grasped my shirt closed as I shifted to sit up, intent on reclaiming the rest of my clothing. She reached out to catch my arm at the elbow, as I started to move to the edge of the bed. Her firm grip prevented my escape.

  “Sylvie, you goose, where do you think you’re going?” Her teasing tone startled me.

  “I don’t know,” I answered, uncertainty overwhelming me, weakening my voice. “Getting dressed.”

  “Why on earth would you do that?” she asked, sounding surprised. When I didn’t answer, she guided me back down on the bed beside her. “I want you to be still with me for a while, and lay beside me. Would that be all right?” she asked softly. When I nodded, she eased closer to me. She ran her fingers through the side of my hair. “There’s only one first time. Be with me in this moment. Share it with me,” she whispered before kissing my forehead, and then the tip of my nose. “You taste even sweeter than I imagined,” she murmured next to my ear.