by Janice Sims
The fog lifted a little from Charlie’s brain. “Sonia’s sister. You were three or four grades behind us in school.”
She smiled more broadly, dimples appearing in both cheeks. “Yeah, I was in ninth grade when you all were seniors. I used to follow you around like a puppy.”
Charlie laughed, remembering a chubby little girl who ran her mouth constantly. And who never had any money when they went to McDonald’s. He must have bought her a hundred hamburgers and Cokes his senior year. “All those burgers I bought you, you owe me dinner at least,” he told her, smiling.
“Honey, I will make you dinner any night you want,” Gracie told him.
Charlie looked at her. If she were four years younger than he was that made her thirty-four. She appeared younger, or maybe that was because she had such a vivacious air about her. Fully alive and ready for whatever life threw her way.
Like a lonely divorced guy trying to get on with life.
“I’ll tell you what, Gracie. I’ll accept a dance for now.”
Gracie stepped off her bar stool and turned around in her little black dress. Plump or not, she had a fit body and killer legs. “Let’s go. I hope you can keep up with me!”
Charlie hoped so, too.
Chapter 17
“Damn, baby, I can’t believe I don’t have any condoms here. I took them to the Denver house, hoping to get you alone at some point and never got lucky,” Harry said just as he had Cherisse panting on her back, quite ready for penetration.
“Harry, how cheap can you be?” said Cherisse. “You can’t afford condoms for your suite and your house?!”
Laughing, Harry said, “I’m sorry!”
Sitting up in bed, Cherisse narrowed her eyes at him. “You ought to be, getting me all hot and bothered for nothing.”
“What are you complaining about, you’ve already come once,” Harry pointed out.
“Yeah, but I wanted to feel you inside of me, Harry. That’s the best part of sex with you, feeling your belly rubbing against mine. All of you inside of me.”
Harry’s penis got even harder at her description. He looked down at it and back up at Cherisse. “How soon do you want to have a baby?”
Cherisse smiled. “The sooner, the better,” she told him.
“It would be funny if you got pregnant on our wedding night,” Harry said as he pushed her back onto the bed, and straddled her. He bent and kissed her deeply, savoring the warmth of her mouth while his penis found the opening of her sex.
Pushing, he moaned as she pushed back and then he was easing inside of her and the sensation was so delicious he felt like crying.
About an hour later, showered and dressed in more casual clothing, they finally put in an appearance at the reception. Mildred walked up to them, her index finger pointed at Harry. “Where have you been? I had Susanne spread the lie that you had gotten stuck in the elevator!”
Unapologetic, Harry bent and kissed his mother’s cheek. “We were making you a grandchild.”
Mildred put her hand over her heart and smiled. “You’re forgiven.”
Ignoring Harry, now she took Cherisse by the arm. “Darlin’, the guests have all eaten and we were just waiting on you and Harry to cut the cake so we can wish you well.”
The cake was a three-tiered work of art—white, trimmed in pale yellow. It had three different flavors of cake: vanilla, chocolate and lemon. The icing was vanilla cream.
Harry and Cherisse made the ceremonial cut while the photographer took several photographs to document the occasion. Cherisse picked up a piece and fed it to Harry and, seeing the mischievous intent in his eyes, she warned, “Do it and die!”
Harry grinned and fed her a piece of the cake. “I don’t know what you’re referring to, darling girl.”
They kissed briefly, after which they got separated, Cherisse being pulled away by Sonia and her friends and colleagues from the hospital’s staff and Harry dragged off by some of his football buddies.
“So, how’re you holding up, girlfriend?” asked Sonia. Her date was Ken Kesey who seemed, to Cherisse, to be in it for the long haul.
“Doing great,” said Cherisse, looking at Sonia keenly. There was something different about her today. Her skin was flushed and she looked as if she had gained weight around her middle. It might not be noticeable to someone who didn’t know her well, but Cherisse saw her practically every day. She could tell there was a thickening there.
She grabbed Sonia by the arm and pulled her aside. “What’s going on with you? You look three months pregnant! That’s why you’ve been wearing those loose tops, isn’t it?”
“Will you keep your voice down?” Sonia said. “My mom’s here. She came with Gracie. Okay, I lied about meeting Ken for the first time at Karibu. I’m ashamed to say I met him about three months ago and, loose woman that I am, I slept with him the night I met him. Obviously the condom broke! I didn’t expect to see him again and I ran in to him at Karibu and he confessed that he really liked me but he didn’t think I was into him. We started dating again and the rest is history.”
“Well, thank goodness you ran into him again since you’re about to make him a father!”
Tears came to Sonia’s eyes. “He wants to marry me.”
“Do it before you give birth,” Cherisse advised.
Sonia laughed. “Yeah, I suppose I should.” She wiped her tears away with a finger. “That’s enough about me, kiddo. Where are you and Harry going on your honeymoon?”
“He’s taking me to a ski resort in the Alps,” Cherisse said.
“You don’t ski,” said Sonia.
“I’m sure the beds will be nice and comfortable,” said Cherisse.
The beds were nice and comfortable. Their first day in Zurich was spent mostly in bed. The trip had been exhausting, hours on the plane, then more time on the train.
Zurich was known for its transportation system and they took the train from Zurich Kloten Airport. Called the S-Bahn, the rapid transit train got them to Zurich in about fifteen minutes. From the train station they got a taxi to the resort, a huge complex perhaps twice as large as Karibu.
The town of Zurich was the largest city in Switzerland yet it had a small town feel with quaint houses and shops. It was a walking city; pedestrians leisurely strolled the streets. In fact the whole place took on a fairy-tale appearance. There were snow-covered chalets, wonderful old churches like St. Peter’s Church that had the largest clock dials in Europe and the Fraumünster, famous because of the wonderful stained-glass windows by artist Marc Chagall.
On the morning of the second day, Harry awakened her with a cup of coffee underneath her nose. “Wake up, sleepy-head. It’s time for your ski lesson.”
Cherisse dug deeper into the lovely bed. She slowly opened her eyes and sniffed, smelling the coffee. Debating whether it would be more advantageous to stay in bed or take the coffee, she opted for the coffee.
Sitting up in bed, naked, she took the cup from Harry. Last night she’d put her hair in a single braid before getting into bed, now it was loose and hanging down her back. Meeting Harry’s eyes, she said, between sips, “Good morning, Mr. Payne.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Payne,” said Harry. He took every opportunity to call her that.
He’d never been happier in his life. Not when he’d been drafted by his first professional football team. Not when he made his first million. Not when he got that Super Bowl ring. They all paled in comparison to one little woman with frizzy hair.
She blinked at him now. “Who said anything about my taking ski lessons? I certainly didn’t. I don’t like the snow, Harry. I thought you knew that. I don’t like it because it’s cold and it’s wet and it’s deep, I’m scared of drowning in snow should I fall. I’m terrified of the possibility of an avalanche. I don’t want to end up like the Donner party. A reference I’m not making to be funny but to express to you just how serious I am about never going on a slope with you.”
Harry sat on the side of the bed and looked at her
with a puppy dog, pleading expression in his eyes. “But you weren’t the owner of a ski resort then, darling girl. How is it going to look to our guests when they learn you can’t ski?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Harry, darling boy, but I don’t care! You’re not getting me on a snow-covered rock to schuss down it like a maniac on nothing but two pieces of wood and holding steel poles that can impale you if you fall on them the right way! I pass.”
“Your daughter does it all the time.”
“Oh, so now you’re going to appeal to the mother in me? That’s dirty pool, Harry Payne. Are you saying I don’t have the guts to try skiing?”
“I didn’t say it, you did,” said Harry.
“But you were thinking it!”
“I most certainly was not,” Harry denied. “I think you’re one of the bravest women I’ve ever known, even if you are afraid of a little snow.”
Cherisse put her coffee cup on the night table beside the bed and pushed Harry off the bed. Rising, she said, “I’m going to need a good, fortifying breakfast, oatmeal and scrambled eggs. You order it for me while I shower.” She looked back at him. “Oh, and Harry, if you let me die out there today, I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your life.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, smiling. He didn’t tell her that she wouldn’t be able to haunt him because if anything happened to her he wouldn’t want to live and would take his life so he could be with her again. He didn’t think she’d appreciate that kind of morbid talk when she was getting ready to risk her life.
A few minutes later they were taking the lift to the part of the mountain that was shaped like two large bowls. Two thousand vertical feet were served by lifts and the area offered open terrain, glades and chutes from which beginning skiers and intermediate skiers could launch themselves down the mountain.
When they reached the top and got off the lift, Cherisse quipped, “Well, it’s all downhill from here.”
Harry laughed shortly. “You’re going to be a natural. Surely Danielle didn’t get all her talent from Charlie.”
“Don’t bet on that,” said Cherisse, eyeing the steep slopes. At least it wasn’t snowing.
When she’d read in the brochure that Switzerland had as many sunny days a year as Denver enjoyed, she had been skeptical, but the sky was a beautiful cerulean blue.
Too bad there was all of this snow on the ground!
“Okay,” said Harry, coming to stand behind her. “We’re going to take it slowly. First I want you to learn how to control the poles and how to turn in order to stop yourself from going forward.”
“Yes, that’s a good skill to learn,” Cherisse agreed. She could see her breath on the air and thought she might be about to hyperventilate.
“I brought you down here,” Harry was telling her, “because we’re going to practice your cross-country skiing technique first. It’s all a matter of coordinating your leg and arm movements. You thrust out one leg while gliding forward on the other. It’s easy.”
“Okay,” Cherise said.
Harry bent and kissed her cheek. It was about twenty degrees out today so they were both dressed warmly in layered ski clothing. Harry had advised her that if she got warm, she could always take something off but if she didn’t bring adequate protection from the cold there was no getting warmer.
Plus, they were wearing goggles to prevent snow blindness since the day was sunny and bright.
He showed her the basic move called the snowplow. It was a turn designed to help a skier slow down or stop. Cherisse learned it in a matter of minutes and felt more confident about the rest of the lesson. So far, she’d stayed on her feet, so that was saying something.
Soon, Harry was teaching her how to move atop the snow using cross-country techniques. Cherisse found this a simple maneuver and thanked her lucky stars that she was a runner. She imagined the movement was hell on her thigh muscles and she would feel it in the morning.
“Okay,” Harry said after a while, “you’re doing well. Now, let’s see if you can go downhill for a short distance and stop using the snowplow move.”
At the top of a not very steep hill, Cherisse stood poised, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. Harry was beside her. “Whenever you’re ready,” he encouraged her.
Cherisse pushed off on her ski poles and soon she was moving down at a slow pace at first, then she hit a mogul, or a bump in the terrain. She went up and over the mogul and suddenly she was launched into the air and onto another, steeper course. She started moving down at a faster pace, then faster and faster. Her heart raced. Everything Harry had taught her flew from her panicked brain and all she could think about was that there was a tree down there and she was going to hit it and break every bone in her body.
Harry was right behind her yelling, “Turn, Cheri, turn like I taught you and go into the snowplow!”
Cherisse closed her eyes and twisted her body as he’d taught her then pointed her toes inward. She immediately began slowing, and finally, about five feet away from the spruce tree that she had been sure was going to be the death of her, she stopped.
Harry schussed to a stop beside her. “Baby, that was great!”
Cherisse burst into tears. “That wasn’t great! I thought I was going to get creamed by that tree!”
“But you didn’t, you stopped in time.”
“By the grace of God,” she said.
Harry sighed but did not push her to admit that for a split second there she had been enjoying herself. Yes, she’d been terrified, but flying down that hill had also been an exhilarating experience for her. He felt it in his bones.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he said. “There’s a lift down there. We’ll take it and go back to the resort.”
Cherisse took a deep breath. Her face was colder now due to the stupid tears. And she’d just been scared out of ten years of life, but she was no quitter. “I’m not ready to go until I can go down a hill better than that,” she said.
She began walking back up the hill. Harry followed her, a smile on his face. “If you insist,” was all he said.
Cherisse spent another hour going down the hill and practicing the snowplow. She got better with each try, and only when they started losing daylight did she say, “All right, I’m cold and hungry now, it’s time to go.”
Harry was impressed with his new wife. Impressed and falling deeper in love with her every minute he spent in her presence.
Back in their suite, he washed her back, lifted her from the tub, dried her off then carried her to the bed, where he gave her a massage with warm scented oil.
While she was in the tub he had taken a quick shower in the other bathroom and ordered them meals from room service. He didn’t want to go anywhere tonight. He was going to pamper his woman.
Now, Cherisse gave a satisfied sigh and turned over to gaze up at him. Her body glistened from the oil he’d used, and she was so relaxed from the massage that she could do nothing but smile. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“What wasn’t so bad?” asked Harry. He was wearing one of the hotel’s robes and he looked very handsome in it.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I told you that you would be a natural,” he said, running his hand along her shapely thigh. “Now, what do you say we have something to eat and then go to bed? You have a long day tomorrow on the slopes.”
Cherisse nudged his robe open with her foot. “What do you say you make love to me before we eat? Your hands on my body left me wanting to feel more of you.”
Harry stood up and doffed the robe, revealing his already semi-erect penis. He had been hoping she was in the mood, although he wouldn’t have suggested it because she’d had a rough day on the slopes.
He stretched the length of his body over hers. Cherisse opened her legs and welcomed him into her arms. Warm brown bodies pressed closer, chest to breasts, groin to groin, mouth to mouth.
Cherisse felt so full, completely happy. She realized that in
Harry she had the passion that had at first been in her relationship with Charlie plus the bonus of a reliable man who adored her as in her relationship with Neil. She had the best of both worlds and didn’t know how she’d gotten so lucky.
Harry entered her and his thrusts were powerful, purposeful, it seemed. When his seed spilled into her she felt warm and satisfied. This moment felt perfect. She came, and her vaginal walls convulsed around his still-hard penis.
Harry trembled. Her name was on his lips as he whispered again and again, “Cheri, my sweet Cheri.”
Cherisse merely smiled. He lay his head on her chest and they held each other until they both came down from the most wonderful high they had yet shared.
In the morning they were on a slope designed for intermediate skiers. Harry had to warn her about avoiding other skiers as this area was more populated. The beginning area had not been so busy because most of the skiers who came to this premier resort were either intermediate skiers or experts.
Today, Cherisse was wearing blue. Yesterday she’d been in bright yellow. She looked up at Harry after he had told her to watch out for other skiers and said, “You don’t think I wore this color for my health, do you? I wore it so that I would be seen a mile away by anyone else who happened to be in my path. If they can’t see me, then they are truly snow-blind.”
Harry did think she resembled the Michelin man in that getup. He was all seriousness now, though, because what she’d learned yesterday would be child’s play compared to what she had to learn today.
Yesterday the cross-country techniques were easy to learn—they had required endurance, which she had plenty of. Today would require skill and balance which Harry thought she might be lacking in.
He was slightly worried.
Cherisse smiled up at him. “Get on with it, Harry.”
“All right, then,” said Harry. “You have to know a few basic things in order to ski downhill without hurting yourself. You’ve already learned how to stop, that’s the most important thing. Next you’ll learn how more effectively to change the direction in which you’re skiing. You do this by learning how to shift your weight. Forward, backward, to the side, when to shift it to one leg or the other. After a time it comes as naturally as breathing, that’s why you see Danielle going downhill with such abandon. She’s done it so often that it’s second nature to her.”
