Between Friends

by Kitt, Sandra

  “Don’t you think you’re carrying this too far?” he asked patiently.

  He used a tone of criticism that Dallas had always been susceptible to. Eleanor had perfected it to an art form. It wasn’t angry, but it had a kind of condescension that suggested that she was behaving badly and she was being unreasonable.

  Dallas trained on Burke what she hoped was the full extent of her ire. “Your time is not more important than mine.”

  “It couldn’t be helped. I told you that in my message …”

  “That message was an afterthought …”

  “I ran into the vice president of marketing and I had his attention then and there. He’s been out of town. I had a couple of ideas to pitch and I went for it.”

  “For more than five hours? There is no excuse for not taking five minutes to call the restaurant and let me know something had come up.”

  “All right, all right …” Burke said. “I guess I was wrong to think you’d understand what it’s like for a black man in this business.”

  “Burke, don’t start. That excuse is so tired. What is it that’s so hard? You have a great job.”

  “It wasn’t easy. I had to fight my way to where I am. I don’t have an MBA or a mentor. No special privileges.”

  “Neither do I …” she said, walking past him and out of the kitchen. She went into the living room. Burke followed behind.

  “Black men still have to work twice as hard as any white guy to get a chance.”

  “Oh, please,” Dallas said impatiently. She sat on the sofa and turned on the TV, clicking through the stations until she found the local news. “What has this got to do with you standing me up tonight? I’m supposed to forget what happened because life is hard for a black man? What about me?” She glared at him.

  He stood over her, speaking without hesitation or thought. “Dallas, all you have to do is show up.”

  “Excuse me?” Dallas asked quietly.

  “I mean, you’re a woman, and you don’t have to work at making white folks feel comfortable around you.”

  “No. Only my own. I guess I should be grateful that you didn’t come right out and say I’m not black enough. Is that how you see me?”

  Burke sighed and sat on the wicker trunk to face her. He sat right in her line of vision. Taking the remote from her, he aimed over his shoulder and pressed the mute button. Burke tossed the unit on the sofa next to Dallas. His expression went from petulant to regret.

  “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded …”

  “Didn’t you?” Dallas questioned softly.

  He shook his head. “Look, I don’t want to stay in visual marketing. That’s MTV stuff. The shift is going to be from screens to computer monitors in the future.” Burke leaned toward her. “I have a shot at a major new position, Dallas. It’s a new division opening up that I’m inventing. All the artists that are hot and selling are black. It’s created a whole generation of wiggers. Wannabes in white teens. We’re flavor-of-the-month, and I want to make the most of it while I can. It’s a window of opportunity that’s not going to last. I know exactly where the audience is and how to reach them,” Burke said excitedly. “There is a lot of money involved, and I want to control how it’s used for marketing. And I want to make sure I get credit and some of the action from sales. The VP I ran into is the decision maker in the company.”

  Dallas didn’t disagree with Burke’s assessment. His thinking was clear … and focused. None of this was about her. Or them. She felt apprehension take over all other sensations within her, even the justified anger. It was going to happen again. Her feelings were going to get mixed up until they didn’t amount to anything more than ill temper. Being … unreasonable. Burke had done everything he could to apologize. Just like Hayden had tried. She was the holdout.

  Dallas closed her eyes briefly. She felt tired. “I hope you get the job. You probably will,” she predicted sincerely. “You’re very good at getting what you want. But I don’t see why I should have to make all the concessions so that this relationship can work. I’m not as important to you as your job. Why should I put up with the way you take me for granted?”

  He sighed, shaking his head. “Baby, that’s not the way it is. But tonight was real important. Forgive me?”

  She regarded Burke steadily. She wasn’t sure he’d heard a word she’d said. “You don’t want forgiveness. You expect absolution.”

  Dallas tried to get up and he took hold of her arms to stay her. Then he shifted his position and sat next to her on the sofa.

  “Dallas …” He put an arm around her waist. He kissed her cheek and encouraged her to rest against his chest. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  He was going to put it all back on her. What did she want?

  It bothered Dallas that in that moment Hayden came to mind. Maybe not so much him as what she thought they’d have together when she’d married him. When she’d wanted then was to be loved for herself. Nothing had changed.

  “If you have to ask what I want, then what’s the point?”

  “Okay. I’ll play that game,” he said smoothly, rubbing his hand along her arm. “You want me to understand when you go to your folks’ or when you and your girlfriends hang out and I don’t see you. You want me to understand when your godchild is over. You want to be able to cut me off with an hour’s notice when you get a last-minute thing to write or someone to interview …”

  “You know that’s not the same thing. You know what I’m talking about.”

  “No I don’t. Tell me what the difference is?”

  She felt foolish. It was a hairsbreadth, but it was also about attitude. And intent. “Canceling is not the same as ignoring. You’re deliberating twisting what it is I’m upset about. I didn’t like being stood up, but that’s not it. It was”—she searched for the exact words—“it was like, I’m the second choice.”

  Burke considered her conclusion. He again pressed his mouth against her face. He pursed his lips into a kiss that tickled. “I could have gone right on home. I didn’t have to come and have you rag me like some high school date who did you wrong.”

  “Burke …”

  “I’m trying to do the right thing. And I wanted you to see I wasn’t afraid to come here tonight. We missed dinner, okay. But at least I’m here now.”

  Dallas didn’t hear concern in Burke’s voice, or an apology. Burke bent his head and kissed teasingly at her mouth. His hand burrowed under the loose-fitting sweater she wore and curved to her side, his thumb stroking her skin. The appeasement was coming too quickly, faster than she was prepared for.

  “I didn’t have any dinner.”

  “Neither did I,” she whispered, beginning to respond to the cajoling play of his hand and mouth.

  “I owe you.” The tip of his tongue brushed against the slight parting of her lips.

  The hand under her sweater slid to her breast and covered it with a warm and gentle pressure. The telltale contractions of her stomach muscles made Dallas sigh. She didn’t discourage Burke’s skilled seduction. He’d never been sexually aggressive with her. He never had to be. She wondered if it was really vindication she wanted. She was being subverted by the erotic invasive kisses, the hand exploring the surface of her breast and stimulating the puckered nipple through her bra. Dallas shifted slightly, trying to stay focused on the issues. They had not been resolved yet.

  “Burke …” she murmured.

  His only response was to open his mouth over hers and let his tongue explore at leisure. The affect was soothing. He handled her carefully. She wanted to protest, but Burke gathered her properly into his arms. Dallas complied, floating against the rising desire and sense of well-being. He kissed her until the sounds they made included ragged breathing and moans of pleasure. She raised an arm to circle around his neck.

  Burke broke off the contact of their mouths.

  Dallas opened her eyes and looked at him with confusion. She could see the longing in his slumberous gaze
, but he shook his head. “You still pissed off at me?”

  “Yes.”

  Burke nodded, and then stood up, pulling Dallas with him. He grinned charmingly and put his arms around her. He had a way of aligning their bodies so that they met from rib cage to thighs. In between them Dallas could feel the hard bulge of his erection. He slowly rotated his hips against her.

  “There’s nothing I can do to make it up to you?”

  She shook her head, even as her eyes closed again. “You can’t. The moment is gone. This … this is something else.”

  He chuckled and then kissed her. There was a guttural sound in his throat as his hands went under the sweater and unhooked her bra. “If you’re going to give me a hard time, then let’s do it right.”

  She grimaced at his pun. “Make sure the door is locked,” Dallas murmured, in a tone halfway between resignation and anticipation. She turned from his embrace and headed for the bedroom.

  Dallas had removed the sweater and bra, peeled off the leggings by the time Burke entered the room behind her. He silently undressed. The process had already been set in motion for reconciliation. But Dallas understood that it would not solve their problems.

  “Baby …” Burke growled, slipping his arms around her from behind. He nibbled at her neck. His penis surged against Dallas’s buttocks as he maneuvered a hand into her panties.

  Dallas sighed and relaxed, letting her physical need take over from the emotional dissatisfaction that kept her in doubt.

  “Ummm, baby,” Burke moaned, his excitement at full throttle.

  She didn’t like being referred to as “baby.” It was a kind of generic male tag she remembered from high school, when all the boys were interested in was getting off. It didn’t seem to focus on her as a person.

  Burke turned her around to kiss her deeply. His hand continued its exploration of her lower body, nestling between her legs as his fingers searched out the delicate opening to her body. Dallas undulated herself against his caressing until there was no other choice but gratification. She climbed on the bed and Burke quickly settled on top of her when she raised her knees. His languid kisses and his hand between her legs were making Dallas feel safe, but she didn’t want to rush through their lovemaking.

  “W—wait,” Dallas moaned, screwing her eyes tightly closed and fighting against her body flying out of control too quickly. She wanted to slow down the gathering wave. She was on the brink of the crash when Burke made his entry and thrust with an electrifying determination right through the middle of the cresting storm within her.

  She held her breath, held onto Burke as the driving force of his body ricocheted the climax within Dallas. Burke’s limbs stiffened, his buttock muscles flexing and tightening until his own release made his body press her into the mattress with the intensity of it. Finally Burke relaxed his full weight on her.

  “Jesus H. Christ …” he murmured, his mouth pressed on her shoulder.

  The throbbing left Dallas limp. But there was little contentment, and as the physical euphoria faded she knew a sense of betrayal. The veil of doubt seemed to drift over her again. Burke had arrived less that an hour ago.

  A new world’s record.

  He had won again.

  Dallas heard Burke’s slow barefoot stride out of the bedroom to the bath. The door closed. She heard running water. First it was Burke. Then it was the toilet flushing; and then the shower being turned on. Only then did Dallas let her body unwind from her curled-up position on her side. She was reluctantly, fully awake. She lay, letting her mind float up into consciousness.

  The shower spray sounded like rain. Just the way she used to hear it when she was little. Someone had once told Dallas that rain meant the angels were crying because she’d been a bad girl. She wasn’t going to buy into that. And yet, there was a sense of having made a bad decision.

  Dallas pushed the covers aside and climbed out of the bed. She glanced down and could see that her nipples were still prominent and distended … that little hickey marks discolored the skin on her stomach, chest, and thighs. For a second there was a distinct memory of her and Burke making love. After their argument but before anything had been resolved. After she’d been worn down with excuses, but before she’d been willing to forgive him.

  And yet she’d surrendered.

  The sounds they’d made together during the night came back to Dallas. She had been completely open and Burke had filled her, found ways to hold her captive with pleasure as well as an urgent need for release from the tension that made her want to scream at him. But it had also seemed less like making love than a battle of wills, physical and emotional. As if Burke was trying to prove something. Or wear her down.

  Dallas recognized that she wanted to be made love to. As if the deeply physical contact—intimate and electric, breathtaking and, yes, satisfying—would demonstrate that he really cared about her. Except for now, when she was left feeling like she had just had a one-night stand.

  Slowly, Dallas raised herself from the bed. She didn’t want to be in it when Burke came out of the bathroom. She knew what was likely to happen.

  The phone rang as she was halfway to her closet to retrieve a robe. She turned back to pick up the receiver, sitting naked on the edge of the bed.

  “Hello?”

  “Good morning, honey. Did I wake you up?”

  A dozen thoughts swept through Dallas upon recognizing Lillian Marco’s voice, not the least of which was guilt. She knew that she had not called Lillian since the funeral for Nicholas nearly a month earlier. Spring had come in the meantime. Dallas thought it might have been too soon to call Lillian, but she had no guidelines. What was the protocol? How long does a mother need to grieve over the loss of her child?

  “Hi, Lillian.” She glanced at the clock radio: 7:43. “Of course you didn’t wake me. I have to get ready for the office. Are you all right? How have you been?” she asked awkwardly. Stupid questions.

  Lillian sighed. “I’m fine, I guess. They say these things take time. A lot of time …”

  Dallas leaned over the phone so she could hear. Lillian’s voice was so low, so soft.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner. I just thought that …”

  “No, no. Don’t worry about it. I know you were thinking of me. There was so much to do. You know, after we put Nicky in the ground. Vin and I thought things would quiet down. It’s over and done and time to move on. But then friends kept calling and stopping by, and flowers were still delivered, and the mass cards kept coming. If I didn’t have so much cooking to do to feed all those visitors I don’t know how I would have gotten through it.”

  “I should have called, then. There must have been something I could have done,” Dallas responded.

  From the hallway the sound of the shower suddenly stopped. And Lillian chuckled.

  “Oh, you helped quite a lot. You stopped Vin and Alex from making fools of themselves. They should have been ashamed to carry on like that, with Nicky lying just in the other room …” Her voice faded.

  Dallas still had no clothes on, and the air was starting to raise gooseflesh on her bare legs and arms. The bathroom door opened. Burke had come back into the room, but she wouldn’t turn around to look at him.

  “This has been very hard on Vin, Dallas. In a way, he’s having a worse time than I am getting used to Nicky’s death. He loved that boy … maybe too much,” Lillian murmured absently.

  “I can imagine,” Dallas crooned. She wasn’t unsympathetic. “His only son.”

  When Lillian didn’t answer right away Dallas feared she’d said something insensitive. After all, Nick was her only son as well.

  Dallas sensed Burke’s presence as he came to stand next to her and toweled himself dry. In her peripheral vision Dallas could see his knees, his ankles and feet. Brown and damp and roped with veins. But she wouldn’t look up, because she didn’t know what she would say.

  “Dallas, hon … I have a real big favor to ask. Now, don’t you be afraid to say no
. I know you’re busy and—”

  “What can I do?” Dallas interrupted.

  “Well … it’s just that … I have to do something about Nicky’s things.”

  Dallas blinked. Of course. There would be a lifetime worth of things.

  “I understand,” she murmured.

  Dallas still ignored Burke as he gently kissed her on the back of her neck. She didn’t respond to his attempt to bridge the gap between them. His hand brushed briefly through her hair, making the curls spring about. Then Burke secured the towel around his waist and left the room.

  “I know this is a terrible thing to ask of you, but … do you think you could come out to help me, Dallas?”

  She couldn’t answer. It was the last thing in the world she wanted to do. Not because she didn’t want to help, but because of what had happened between herself and Nicholas. To help with his things seemed like forgiving him for all he’d put her through. But his mother didn’t know that, and she didn’t need to.

  “I don’t mind helping, but are you sure? Going through his things is so … personal.”

  Lillian made a scoffing sound. “They’re just things, hon. They don’t mean much anymore now that Nicky’s gone. I’ll keep a few items. Vin won’t give up his high school football uniform, or the bars and ribbons he earned in the service. I’m glad now Nicky didn’t take everything with him when he and Theresa got married. But I don’t want to have the rest of it around. She doesn’t want anything … you know, that was becoming a nasty divorce.”

  Dallas got distracted by the sounds coming from the kitchen. Burke was putting on the coffeemaker. He was still trying to make up for the night before. He was being domesticated and cooperative.

  “When do you want me to come out?” Dallas asked, the sound of Burke’s presence beginning to irritate her.

  “How about this Saturday? I talked Vin into going out to my brother and sister-in-law’s for the day. They’re building a house in Wayne, New Jersey, and Vin is helping them move some shrubbery. I’ll be home alone.”