by Cathy Zane
“Give me a break, Sarah. Expensive romantic dinners, roses, sentiments of undying love . . .”
“I’m just saying—”
“Cut the crap, I don’t want to hear it.” Maggie turned her back on Sarah and pushed ahead of her in line. Sarah knew to stay back, keep her mouth shut, and give her moody friend some space. If she tried to talk now it would just make things worse.
They got their sandwiches and found a bench outside the deli, where they sat and ate in silence. Sarah was nearly done eating when Maggie turned to her.
“Sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay. I know it’s hard for you being alone. But I know you’re going to find a great guy.”
Maggie shrugged. “Let’s change the subject. Any hot gossip?”
Sarah thought for a moment. Should she tell Maggie about running into Matt? She’d never really talked to anyone about him. She felt nervous and uncertain. What if she asked about Robert’s reaction? She couldn’t tell her about that. She’d seen her wrist. She might put two and two together. Although knowing Maggie, she’d be more interested in finding out everything about Matt. Robert’s reaction probably wouldn’t even occur to her. She didn’t know about Robert’s temper.
She decided to go ahead and risk it. She knew it would put Maggie in a better mood.
“How about running into my college boyfriend?”
Maggie’s eyes popped open. “Really!? You never talked about a college boyfriend.”
Sarah shrugged. “Not much to tell.”
It was working. Maggie was definitely hooked.
“Bullshit! There’s always something to tell when it comes to old boyfriends. His name, how you met, how long you dated, what he was like in bed. Spill! I want to hear it all!” Maggie scooted closer to Sarah on the bench.
“His name was Matt. We met through a friend. Dated for a year. And in bed, well, he was my first. End of story.”
“The hell you say! You cannot follow ‘he was my first’ with ‘end of story.’”
“Sure I can. And I just did!” Sarah got up to throw away the paper wrapping of her sandwich. “We need to go. We’re going to be late for class.”
Maggie jumped up to follow Sarah. “No way. You are not leaving me hanging. I want all the gory details.”
Sarah sighed. She knew Maggie would never let this go. She’d wanted her to be in a better mood and it had worked. So now it was time to pay the piper.
“Fine. But not now. We really need to get back. How about dinner at my house, tonight? Robert’s gone so we can have a girl’s night. We’ll make tacos. They’re one of Lizzy’s favorite dinners.”
“Sounds perfect,” Maggie said happily. She linked arms with Sarah as they walked toward the school. “It’s a date! And I’ll bring the beer . . .”
Maggie lived in a one-room loft on the third floor of a small building in the heart of the urban bustle. She loved being in the middle of everything and always felt a little out of her element when she visited Sarah. The suburbs were too quiet for her liking, and Sarah’s house looked like something out of House Beautiful. It was tastefully decorated; everything in it was high-end. And the living room furniture was white! Who did that? It made her nervous. She was always afraid she was going to spill or break something.
Sarah had just gone to put Lizzy to bed. She’d told Maggie to settle into the living room while she was gone. She would have been happier to stay in the kitchen! She carefully placed her beer mug on a coaster on the glass coffee table and curled up in a chair to read a magazine.
She’d nearly finished both the beer and the magazine by the time Sarah finally came back.
“Sorry,” Sarah said as she came into the room.
Maggie looked up from her magazine. “I just figured you were avoiding me.”
Sarah plopped down on the sofa. “She had a hard time settling down. Too much excitement about making tacos and having Aunt Maggie over.”
Maggie tossed her magazine onto the table. “So she’s finally asleep?”
“Almost. She’s listening to a bedtime tape. I think she’ll be asleep soon.”
Maggie grinned. “Good. So now the real girls’ night can begin! Let’s get back to this mysterious old beau. Why haven’t you told me about him before?”
Sarah hesitated briefly. “I think I wanted to block him from my memory.”
“Sounds like it was a bad first time. Let me guess: a smelly dorm room and his roommate walked in on you.”
“No! I was just really angry.”
Maggie frowned. “About the sex?”
“No. It had nothing to do with sex. He’d finished medical school and wanted to volunteer for a year in Africa before starting a residency.”
“Quite an accomplishment. And that made you furious . . . why?” Maggie was having a hard time following Sarah’s story. She really wanted her to hurry up and get to the good stuff.
Sarah glared at her. “Would you let me tell the story already!?”
Maggie gestured for her to continue. “By all means.”
“I wasn’t angry he was going. He was very up-front about his plans when we first met, which is why he never really got that attached.”
“But you did.”
“Exactly. He was easy to be with and we had a great time together—”
“And the sex was great?” Maggie motioned with her hand to speed Sarah up.
Sarah picked up a pillow and threw it at her. “Jeez, could you be more impatient!”
Maggie moved the hand holding her beer out of the way and caught the pillow with her other hand. “Careful. Beer on this nice white sofa would not be pretty!” She threw the pillow back to Sarah. “Just get to the good stuff.”
“As I was saying . . .” Sarah said.
“I’m all ears,” Maggie said, coaching herself to be more patient.
“It took me a while to get up the nerve to tell him I was a virgin. I think he was relieved. My resistance made more sense. And he was very sweet about the whole thing after that. He planned a romantic night in at his place: dinner with candlelight, music, champagne, and then the bed all covered with rose petals!”
Maggie nearly choked on the beer she had just swigged. “You’re shitting me!” she said once she was able to swallow.
“Like I could make this up?”
Maggie lifted her beer mug slightly. “Touché.” She leaned forward, put her drink on the table, and shook her head. “Hell. My first time was in the backseat of my drunk, pimply faced boyfriend’s junker car my junior year of high school. I seriously considered becoming a nun after that.”
Sarah laughed. “That good, huh?”
“Nothing like your guy, that’s for sure.” Maggie sighed and sank back into her chair. This story was another reminder of what a charmed life Sarah seemed to live, especially compared to her.
“Yeah, I guess it was nice of him,” Sarah said.
“Nice? Hell, he deserves the Nobel Prize of First Times. What turned this hero into a villain?”
“He thought we should date other people.”
Again, Maggie was a little lost. Sarah was holding something back and she was having a hard time reading between the lines. “And you didn’t want that?”
“No. I wanted to do the long-distance thing. But he thought I needed more experience. I hadn’t really dated anyone before him and I think that made him a little nervous. So, we split up.”
“Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” Maggie said, furrowing her brow and scrutinizing Sarah.
“No.” Sarah shook her head. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” Maggie said. “Come on. Out with it.”
“I don’t know. I feel a little ashamed of my behavior back then.”
“Oh no, what did you do?” Maggie was really curious now. As far as she knew, Sarah had never done anything bad in her life. She was the quintessential good girl. It would be fun to finally have some dirt!
Sarah sh
ook her head. “It sounds so stupid now, but I went pretty psycho bitch at the time and wrote a really nasty letter.”
“Oh.” Maggie felt a little disappointed. She’d been hoping for something more scandalous. She should have known. For Sarah, a nasty letter probably felt reprehensible. “It doesn’t sound that stupid. Worse things have been done during breakups. Did you send him the letter?”
Sarah cringed. “Yeah. Bad move, huh?”
Maggie shrugged and smiled. “Maybe not the best. So, I’m guessing you never heard from him.”
“No. He wrote me back.”
“And?”
Sarah stood up abruptly and grabbed Maggie’s empty beer mug off the table. “I don’t know,” she said as she headed toward the kitchen. “I never opened it.”
Maggie jumped up and chased Sarah into the kitchen. “Never opened it? You’re kidding? You just pitched it?” She couldn’t believe it. What on earth could have made her never open it?
“No, I didn’t pitch it. I stuck it in a box with the rest of my college stuff.”
“So, you still have it?” Maggie was giddy with excitement. “Where is it? We should get it and read it!”
Sarah frowned and shook her head. “Forget it. I’m married now, remember?”
Maggie threw her hands up. “So what? We’re not talking about having an affair. Come on. Don’t you want to know what he said?”
“I don’t know . . .”
The phone rang and Sarah froze. Maggie watched as she glanced at the caller ID, took a breath, and then tentatively answered the phone. She was puzzled by the distinct change in Sarah’s demeanor. She was suddenly more formal—sort of detached. The playfulness was gone. She almost seemed to shrink in size, which Maggie knew was totally absurd, but that was how it seemed. She wondered who was on the other end of the phone call.
“Okay,” Sarah said. “I’ll wait to have dinner with you when you get home.”
Ah, Robert. Maggie had only met him a couple of times. Her impression of him was that he was very proper and sophisticated. And a bit of a snob. A stuffed shirt, actually. But maybe that was to be expected. After all, his family was one of the wealthiest in Seattle. In all of Washington, for that matter. That was probably why Sarah didn’t ever invite her over when he was around. She knew she was the farthest thing from sophisticated. And she was proud of it. She was glad that Robert traveled a lot; otherwise, she’d probably never see her best friend!
Sarah hung up the phone. “That was Robert. He’s coming home later than planned. Not until Friday night.” She slumped a bit, then seemed to remember herself and smiled at Maggie. “He’ll be exhausted. I’ll have to think of something nice to cook for dinner.”
Sarah still seemed far away. Maggie wanted to pull her back. “So, what about that mystery letter?”
“Huh?”
“The letter? From Matt?”
Sarah swiped her hand dismissively. “Oh, I can’t think about that now.”
Maggie wondered what was going on. Sarah seemed lost in her thoughts. She wasn’t used to seeing her like this. “You okay?” she asked, studying her face.
Sarah met her gaze. “Yeah. Of course. Just getting a little tired. I should probably call it a night.”
“Yeah. Okay,” Maggie said, disappointed. She got up to leave, still puzzled by Sarah’s behavior. Had Robert told her something upsetting? She opened her mouth to ask—then shut it. It wasn’t any of her business. If Sarah wanted to talk to her about it, she would.
Chapter 6
Sarah checked the food in the oven and glanced at the clock. Robert’s plane had been delayed, but he’d called from the town car to say he was on his way. She’d been disappointed about the delay. He was only home for the weekend and she had been counting on having a nice dinner together. But she’d kept it warm and Lizzy was already asleep, so the evening wasn’t completely ruined.
She went to look out the front window just in time to see headlights illuminate the rain as the car pulled into the driveway. Sarah watched as the driver got the bags from the trunk and handed them to Robert, who nodded a thank-you and ran for the front door.
Sarah turned on the porch light and opened the door.
Robert gave her a quick peck on the cheek before putting his bags down and taking off his coat. “Damn Seattle rain,” he said as he reached back outside to shake off his coat. “It was sunny and gorgeous in LA.”
Sarah smelled a strong odor of alcohol and her body tensed. “Had a few drinks?”
“With a three-hour delay, what do you think?”
Sarah felt a twinge of fear but pushed it away. “Well, it’s dry in here! Come to the kitchen. I kept dinner warm for you.”
“I’m not hungry,” Robert said. He handed her his coat and headed for the stairs. “I just want a hot shower and a comfortable bed.”
Sarah felt a wave of disappointment but pushed it away, reminding herself that he’d had a rough day. She went to the kitchen to put away the food.
When she got upstairs the shower was running, so she undressed, put on her nightshirt, and crawled into bed. She resigned herself to wait to talk to Robert until tomorrow. She knew he’d pass out as soon as he hit the bed, so she turned off her bedside lamp and settled in to sleep.
Robert came out of the bathroom naked and crawled into bed, groping clumsily for Sarah.
Sarah took hold of his hand. “I thought you were tired.”
“Not too tired for some of your sweet thing,” Robert said, his speech slightly slurred.
“Robert, you’re drunk. And I’m really wiped. It’s been a long day.”
“I know how to wake you up.” Robert spooned Sarah from behind and slid his hand up under her nightshirt to fondle her breasts. Sarah felt his erection against her upper thigh. She scooted forward and gently tried to push his hand away.
“Robert, I’m really not in the mood tonight.” The last thing she wanted was more drunken sex. It seemed like that was all they ever had anymore. She wondered if he was even still attracted to her.
“Sure you are, baby,” he said as he rolled her toward him and straddled her, using his knee to spread her legs and holding her arms down above her head. “I know you’ve missed me. You just gotta loosen up.” He put his mouth on hers as he forcefully entered her and began thrusting slowly.
Sarah winced and pulled her mouth away, trying to lift her arms to push him off. “Robert, no . . .”
Robert was thrusting more quickly. “Oh, come on. It feels good.”
“No, it’s hurting.”
Robert was breathing harder now. He continued thrusting. “That’s because you’re too tense. Just relax.”
“But—”
“Hang on. I’m almost there,” he said breathlessly.
Sarah winced as the pain worsened. “Robert, please!”
“I’m not done yet.” He grunted and began thrusting harder.
Sarah felt herself go numb. She lay still until Robert climaxed and rolled off of her and onto his back.
“Ah, great fuck baby,” he said, sighing deeply.
Sarah lay very still for a few minutes, fighting back the tears, until she heard Robert’s breathing become deep and regular. Then she gingerly slipped out of bed, went into the bathroom, and quietly closed the door before turning on the shower. She stood briefly and stared at herself in the mirror. Tears sprang into her eyes and she turned away. She opened the shower door, tested the water with her hand, and stepped in. She let the water run over her head and face for a minute before she slumped against the wall of the shower and cried.
Robert woke before Sarah with a vague memory of having had sex with her the night before. He knew he’d been pretty drunk and he remembered feeling turned on by his seatmate on the plane. He wondered if Sarah thought he’d been too rough with her. It was something she’d complained about before. Maybe a preemptive strike was a good idea. He quietly slipped out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater, and went down the hall to Lizzy’s room.
“I missed you,” she said, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.
“I missed you too, pumpkin. And I was thinking we could do something fun this morning. How would you like to help me make Mommy a nice breakfast?”
Lizzy’s eyes brightened. “Waffles?”
Robert opened his eyes widely to mirror Lizzy’s. “With blueberries and whipped cream?”
“Yes!”
“I know that’s what you want. But what do you think Mommy would like?”
Lizzy frowned slightly. “Waffles!”
Robert smiled. He liked her spunk; she wasn’t at all like Sarah in that way. That was her Jenkins blood. It made him proud. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you some waffles. But I know Mommy likes scrambled eggs and toast better than waffles.”
“I want to help. I can make the toast.”
“That sound perfect,” Robert said as he let her slide down to the ground. “Now you get dressed and come down when you’re ready. I’ll go get started on your waffles.”
“Okay.”
He watched her run to her closet, then headed down to the kitchen to begin cooking. It wasn’t his favorite thing to do—he preferred to be served and generally ate out when he was away from home—but he could handle the occasional breakfast.
Domesticity was hard for him. He adored Lizzy, but he knew he couldn’t be a full-time dad or husband and was grateful that his work was primarily in LA. He loved his life there; it made him feel alive and energized. His Seattle life satisfied his parents and, to some extent, Sarah, although he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t aware of her occasional discontent. There was a time when he’d made more of an effort to please or at least appease her, but he was finding it increasingly difficult all the time. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he felt trapped—although, he mused, maybe that’s exactly what I feel. He resented Sarah, and at times Lizzy, and trying to pretend otherwise was wearing on him.
