The Other F-Word

by MK Schiller

  I fell apart in his arms, and he followed me there. He rested his head against my chest. I raked my fingers through his hair. We were silent for a while, then his deep gravelly voice pierced through the quiet.

  “I was emotionless for a long time after Belle. I eventually laughed again, but it always felt forced. I smiled, but I didn’t feel it. I threw myself into my work. I planned everything. I was regimented. All spontaneity and joy died with her.” He laughed cynically. “I even planned when I wanted sex, Jessie. I didn’t want to feel that pain again. I didn’t want to open my heart. That was…until I met you.” His smile was sad, almost wistful.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Fate’s a funny thing. I wasn’t supposed to be at the club that night. I was just in the neighbourhood and I thought I’d check in. I saw you there. You were like a light in a dark room, dancing and laughing. I didn’t even know what was so funny, but I laughed along with you, and for the first time in years, it felt real. I had to dance with you. I thought about you all the time after that. I even saved those sparkly things from your outfit.”

  “Sequins.”

  “Yeah, those. I told myself it was just a fluke when you hopped into my limo that night… I thought I must have be imagining you. But then I saw you at the library. You should have seen my face. I think Alan asked me if I was okay like five times. Fate wasn’t just whispering to me. It was clunking me on the head.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You asked me why I like you, and I was honest but maybe not completely. You make me feel whole again. It makes me happy just to see your face.”

  “You do the same for me. Damien, don’t feel guilty about what happened. She knew you loved her.”

  He embraced me tighter. And there was something in it that spoke to me. He didn’t have to say the words, I felt them in his touch.

  “And don’t feel guilty about breaking up with me. You deserve to get everything you want.” I took his face in my hands, urging him to look at me. “You’re going to be a great father someday.”

  He took a deep breath. “I’m so confused. How did you know what I was thinking?”

  “It was in your kiss. It was sad, tender and soft. It was a goodbye.”

  “It’s funny, I’d given up on the idea of having a family, until I met you. It’s so fucking ironic, Jessie, that the one person who made me realise how much I want it doesn’t want that with me.”

  My lips started quivering then. He ran his finger over them. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words before I spoke them. “Sweetheart, I want you to have everything you deserve, but I can’t give it to you. Even though that’s tearing me apart, I won’t hold you back from it anymore.”

  He didn’t have to say the words. They hung in the air. He needed to move on and maybe I’d helped him in some way, but now I was an obstacle standing in the way of his happiness.

  “I don’t want to end us, but I honestly just want to be a dad. I want to coach softball, attend Daddy-Daughter dances and school plays. And the truth is I will never be looking for it as long as I’m with you because to me you are the perfect woman.”

  “Not so perfect.”

  He caressed my cheek. “I’ll always love you. I’ll always be there for you if you need anything, Jessie.”

  And that was the end of us. It felt like the right decision in my head, but my heart violently disagreed. It tore apart in my chest with his last kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Time marched on, and I lived like a quiet spectator, moving through it without participating. My family tried to see me through. Dillon did my hair. Marley and Stevie took me shopping. I objected when they suggested another spa day. Adam cracked jokes because that was what Adam did. Rick came over to make sure I didn’t need help with the house before every showing. Because that’s what Rick did. Kate offered to help me bake a batch of bean brownies. That’s when I knew…they were all so worried about me.

  I listened to a lot of Rodriguez, Pink Floyd and Janis Joplin. Even they couldn’t get me through my funk.

  Simple tasks like eating, smiling and conversing seemed impossible. Hell, I couldn’t even take a hot shower without crying, so I took cold ones. It had been two weeks and the night of the fundraiser was finally upon us. I didn’t want to go, but I’d obligated myself. I was nervous about seeing him so soon. Would he bring a date?

  At least I had my family there to help me get through it. They had all purchased tickets and insisted on supporting the library. And what a colourful bunch we made.

  “Wow, you all look amazing,” I said.

  “I thought you were coming as Superman, Adam?” Rick said.

  Adam shrugged, flipping his thumb to Stevie who was dressed in knee-length socks, Mary Jane shoes and a British school girl’s uniform. “I was, but Hermione Granger over here said comic books don’t count, so I’m Harry Potter. Besides, I didn’t feel like wearing tights.”

  “So you just went with the cape? Because that’s a lot manlier.” Rick slapped him on the back.

  “Whatever, nice porno-stache, man.”

  “This is part of my costume. I’m Rhett Butler.”

  “You know Rhett Butler had dark hair,” Stevie said.

  “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn,” Rick said. They all laughed then, including me. It felt good to laugh again.

  “He’s been waiting all night to say that,” Marley chimed in. She looked like a goddess in a dark green velvet dress complete with tassels.

  “What’s this? A baton?” Stevie asked, gesturing to the long rod Marley was holding.

  “Actually, it’s a curtain rod. I thought it would be funny, since I’m wearing Scarlett’s green gown she made from the drapes. I was going to wear it through my dress as part of the outfit, but Rick thought I’d poke someone’s eye out so I’ll save it for when they judge the costumes.”

  Stevie crossed her arms, shaking her head. “If you wanted a prop, you should have bought a wig. Scarlett had dark hair too.”

  “Not my Scarlett,” Rick said, kissing Marley’s cheek.

  “I should have gone with Dracula,” Adam said.

  “Do you have a cape fixation or something?” Rick asked.

  “Shut up and mind your porno-stache before it comes off, Magic Man.”

  Rick smirked. “Did your wife help you with that comeback like she did with your costume?”

  Adam shook his head, putting his arm around Stevie. “Listen, son, I got ninety-nine problems, but a witch ain’t one.”

  Stevie rolled her eyes, patting Adam’s chest. “And he’s been waiting all night to say that.”

  Dillon approached us, drawing our attention away from Rick and Adam’s entertaining jab session. He looked very handsome in the tweed waistcoat, complete with pocket watch.

  “I should know this but I don’t,” Marley said.

  “Your detective skills are lacking, Watson,” he replied.

  “Sherlock Holmes, that’s very cool, Dills,” Marley said.

  “Or in your case, Curly Lock Holmes,” Stevie added, adjusting Dillon’s checked cap.

  I took out my camera and snapped at least a dozen pictures until it started getting annoying. Kate and Adam Senior joined us. She looked regal in her Elizabethan style royal blue dress and red wig.

  “You’re Shakespearean, but who?” I asked.

  “Ophelia, darling. Played by Kate Winslet, as a matter of fact,” she said with a wink.

  “It’s perfect, but Adam you’re not dressed like Hamlet.” Adam Senior actually wore a suit…a nice suit, but it definitely didn’t qualify as a costume.

  “I’m a big man, Emmie. You think I could get myself in tights?”

  We all laughed.

  “Besides, I was too distracted checking this one out.” He put his arm around Kate then. “Save the wig for later.”

  “Dad!” Adam blurted. “Please.”

  “Please nothing, your mom looks hot, kiddo.”

  Kate blushed, but I knew it made h
er day. There was a great deal of love around me. It radiated like rays from the sun. I loved it. Right now though, I had a strong inclination to pull the shades down.

  “I wish Billie was here. She’d love this,” I said.

  “We’ll take lots of photos for her,” Marley said, patting my hand.

  “Who are you supposed to be, Emmie?” Adam Senior asked.

  “Meggie from The Thorn Birds.” I stared down at my rose-coloured, old-fashioned dress. “This is a replica of the dress she wore—ashes of rose.”

  Kate squealed. “It’s perfect for you. You look like Rachael Ward.”

  “I didn’t realise that was a book,” Stevie said.

  “Yes, it was a book before the movie.”

  I scanned the room, which provided a feast for the eyes with all the creative costumes, but I only wanted to glance upon him. I came up empty each time. He had to be here—it was his fundraiser. I longed to see him, then again I didn’t…well, at least not if he was with someone. I just wanted to drink in the sight of his silky hair, broad shoulders, sly smile and brilliant eyes once more.

  Dillon interrupted my visual search, handing me a plate of food. “How’s it going, kid?”

  “Dillon, don’t call me kid.”

  “All right, how’s it going, Mom?”

  “I’m as good as I can be.”

  “Are you looking for him?”

  “Your powers of observation are amazing, Sherlock.”

  “Won’t that be torture?”

  “I’m a girl. We love to torture ourselves. Sometimes it’s the only way we can find inner-peace.”

  “Hmm…no wonder I’m not interested in any of you.”

  “Hello, Emmalynne, you look lovely as always,” Arty said, running his hand down the lapel of his purple velvet jacket. Then he held his large stove-pipe hat so he could bow to me.

  “Arty, you look great.”

  “Mad Hatter?” Dillon asked.

  “I’m much too dignified to play a crazy person.”

  “Then who are you?”

  He tugged on his jacket, adjusting his top hat. “Willy Wonka, my dear boy.”

  “I love it,” I said, clapping my hands.

  “I believe you owe me a dance, Ginger Rogers.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Fred Astaire.”

  I took his hand. He led me to the dance floor where a young girl, who sounded much like Billie Holiday herself, did a rendition of Pennies From Heaven, accompanied by a twelve piece band. Arty took off his hat, bowing towards me. I spun around in my dress before taking his hands. He wore lifts. I wore flats. He came up to my neck. We looked silly because neither of us excelled at following or leading, but I loved every minute of it. There’s nothing like dancing to put me in a better mood, even if it’s not done very well. Despite practising the routine, we sometimes hit the other’s foot. It was supposed to be the famous dance from the movie Swing Time. It looked a little more like The Three Stooges with a few elegant moves here and there to supplement us.

  We were breathless by the time it was over. Surprisingly, we received a standing ovation.

  “Thank you, Emmalynne,” Arty said, tipping his hat to me.

  I bowed back to him.

  “May I have the next dance?” a deep, gravelly voice asked.

  My pulse quickened to an unnatural, dangerous pace.

  “I’ll relinquish her to you, sir,” Arty said with great fanfare.

  Damien took me in his strong arms just as Rodriguez’s beautiful song I Think of You came on.

  “I can’t believe they’re playing this.”

  “I know people,” he said with a soft smile.

  “Déjà vu, huh?”

  “Yes, I suppose it is. I need to hold you, especially after watching you dance with another man.”

  “You can’t be jealous of Arty.”

  “I’m jealous of any man who gets to hold you in his arms.”

  I took a deep breath, but that was a mistake because I ended up inhaling his delicious, masculine scent. “I like your costume.”

  He rested his hand against my lower back. “Everyone thinks I’m James Bond.”

  “That’s a Gatsby tuxedo if I ever saw one.”

  “Correct as usual. Who are you supposed to be, besides the girl of my dreams?”

  “Don’t say stuff like that to me. I’m trying to get over you.”

  “I’m sorry. I just needed to share some truth.”

  “I’m Meggie from The Thorn Birds.”

  He tightened his grip, causing all my senses to flutter away.

  “Yeah, I see it.”

  “Don’t tell me you read the book.”

  He chuckled. “I had a mother. I saw the movie…more times than I’d care to admit. That was a strange love, hey?”

  “Why, because he was so much older than her?”

  “No, because he was a priest.”

  “Oh, yes, I guess it was.”

  “Should I have dressed as a priest? Then we could have been in the same story.”

  “I think it’s a bad idea, especially in light of recent events with the church. You know, we’re not that off on time periods. I could pass for Daisy.”

  “You are no Daisy. She was a royal bitch. That’s a book I did read.”

  “I guess we’re not meant to be in the same story.”

  “I guess not.”

  I hugged him closer to me, shuffling my feet to the pretence of dancing. My eyes widened at the sight of Kelly Harris at the bar, staring at us with cold disdain.

  “Damien, did you know Kelly’s here?”

  “I saw her.”

  “I thought you fired her?”

  “I did, but she purchased a ticket to the event. I thought about asking security to kick her out, but why risk a scene when she’s not bothering anyone. I’m having her watched though, just in case.”

  “That’s a good idea.” I had no intention of wasting any more of our time talking about her.

  His hands travelled down just above my hips. I gasped as he gripped my waist.

  “What’s going on with you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He tilted my chin, forcing me to look up at those green-flecked, gold eyes. “You look like shit.”

  I backed away, but he pulled me closer. “I can’t believe you don’t have a date to this. What with you being so charming and all.”

  “Jessie, I shouldn’t be able to put my hands on either side of you and touch my fingers together. That’s not normal, Hunger Strike Girl.”

  I swallowed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just that the four-letter F word isn’t very appealing right now. And yes, I’m talking about food. Don’t worry about me, Damien. I’ll be fine. I always am.”

  “I am worried. You telling me not to is just making it worse.”

  “You don’t seem very affected by things.” In fact, he looked like a billion bucks. How ironic.

  “I’ve never carried my scars on the outside, but it doesn’t mean they don’t exist. I’m as miserable as you are.”

  “We should stop.”

  “Stop dancing?”

  “Yes, the song’s over anyway and we’re just rubbing salt into an open wound.”

  He sighed, releasing me. I started walking away with no destination in mind. I needed to put distance between us…his mesmerising eyes, his intoxicating scent, masculine hands, hard pressed body were all images of torment. He clasped my arm, coming behind me.

  “I meant it when I told you I will always be there for you. Tell me what to do. Let me help.”

  “I’ll be fine. I always am.” I struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to burst forth. He let go of me.

  I used the bathroom in the lobby, knowing I’d have more privacy than the one in the ballroom. By the time I got there, the tears had broken through, resulting in streaked makeup and puffy eyes.

  Our break up had been necessary. We had no future together, but it made things worse. If he’d done something unforgiv
able like cheating, I could at least be angry with him. Instead, I was madly in love with him, and the bitter pain was like a massive rock lodged in my chest.

  Kelly Harris strutted in a few minutes later. I did a double-take at her costume, not having noticed it when I’d danced with Damien because her face had been mingled in the crowd. Staring at her now, I felt the urge to grab a towel and cover her up. She wore a long blonde wig with some type of see-through body stocking with leaves covering all her naughty bits, but exposing everything else. Oh my God…she was Eve.

  “Hello, Emmie,” she said, standing next to me and taking out her make-up bag.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping this was an apparition and she’d be gone by the time I opened them. No such luck. She applied gooey pink lipstick to her chemically enlarged lips. I had a few choices. I could sulk or leave, but that would only satisfy her expectations. Instead, I straightened my shoulders and finished fixing my hair.

  “Hi, Kelly, did you forget you no longer work for Damien?”

  She smiled with such fake sweetness, I felt my blood sugar spike. “He laid me off, but he can’t stop me from attending this event, especially since I planned it.”

  Bullshit if I ever heard it. Every idea belonged to me, but I kept quiet. I only had so much strength and I needed to save it in case of a vicious surprise attack.

  “I saw you two dancing, but I heard he broke up with you.”

  There was the first grenade. Where had she heard that? Surely, Damien wouldn’t confide in her.

  “It was a mutual decision.”

  She nodded as her mouth morphed into a devious smile. Damn…she hadn’t been dropping grenades, she’d employed all-out biological warfare. Kelly Harris didn’t know we’d broken up. I’d just confirmed it for her.

  “Don’t feel bad. You couldn’t expect it to last with a man like him.”

  “Thank you for your concern, but I’m not looking for your reassurances.”

  “I thought you might want to know that my sister overheard him talking to his brother at the hotel bar the other night.”

  She was baiting me. Sadly, it worked. “What did she overhear?” I hated myself for asking the question, but there is no greater curiosity for a woman than an intelligence report on a lost love, even if it was in the form of hearsay and gossip.