The Secret Keeping

by Francine Saint Marie

Helaine groaned as Robert pointed conspicuously.

  “The pretty one with dark hair.”

  “Robert, please…”

  “Classy. Do you know her, Helaine?”

  Helaine hid in the menu. “Of course not. I don’t know anybody here. That’s why I like it. Please leave the poor woman be, Robert.”

  They laughed at themselves. They were still a bad influence on each other. The waiter brought a bottle of rosé and they ordered dinner.

  “Why were you late, Helaine?”

  “Oh, just a problem case.”

  “There’s a lot of those,” Kay said.

  Robert nodded. “Yep. That’s what the courts are for.” He gulped his wine. “To get at the truth, if it can be got at. To throw justice at the infidels.”

  Helaine chuckled. “Like Christians to the lions, eh?” That woman was indeed watching them. How nice!

  “Well, but only if they’re lying!” He was pleased with that one.

  “You two are so clever, a couple of cynics.” Kay mocked. “You know her Helaine? She’s lovely.”

  Helaine shook her head. “I thought you can’t see?”

  “I can see she’s a professional of some kind. Smart.”

  “Who?”

  “The dark-haired woman over there.”

  “Are you being obvious enough?” Helaine laughed. “I don’t think you’re being obvious enough.”

  “Nah,” said Robert, twisting his neck. “We’re like you. Discreet.”

  “Yah!”

  “You’ll scare her away, Kay,” he teased.

  Kay had her reading glasses on. Helaine pretended to not be there with them. They were unpredictable goofs sometimes. She grinned at their reflection in the window. Their bobbing heads.

  “No. That one doesn’t scare easily. Look how she holds her head. A real queen,” Kay declared. “She’s definitely staring at you, Helaine.”

  Is that right? Helaine shot a glance toward her. Didn’t scare easily? “Nonsense, Kay. Everybody looks at everybody here. If I had a dollar for every look I got at this table I’d be rich.”

  “You’re already rich,” piped in Robert. “So you’ve seen her before?”

  The salads came to the rescue. “You can’t be too rich, they say.”

  “Or too thin,” he replied. “Eat. I’m wasting away.”

  “Me too,” Helaine said, with a mouth full.

  _____

  Plink. Plank. Plink.

  Helaine fingered the keys of her baby grand, her one hand wandering peripatetic across the black and white…all…or noth…ing…at…plink…plank…plink…the other holding her head up…half…a…love…never…appealed…to…plink, plank…oh, if your heart…plink, plink…never…could…yield to…as she sat slumped on the bench against the piano.

  She rarely got the chance to play anymore. She knew this song, though it didn’t sound it. She was lost in her journey…than I’d…rather…have…unaware that the tune was escaping from her…nothing at all…it had been in her head for weeks.

  Must have heard it at Frank’s Place.

  _____

  After an eternity of foreplay Sharon still wouldn’t penetrate her and Helaine’s womb had begun to hurt from aching for it. The excitement in her chest had turned against her, too, and she felt a sadness there instead, a desire to weep. She sighed miserably into her lover’s neck and upon hearing it Sharon stopped what she was doing, rested her weight on Helaine so she couldn’t get up from the bed.

  “Don’t want to play, doctor?”

  “Sharon…” Helaine let go of her back and tried to slide out from underneath her, but Sharon went rigid and wouldn’t permit it. “Sharon, please,” she said in frustration. Her breasts were tender and the weight on them was unpleasant. She shifted her body to throw her off and Sharon grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her to the pillow. She tongued her stomach, pushing hard into the belly button and Helaine arched her back and sighed again.

  “Make love to me, Sharon,” she urged. She felt her biting at her nipples again and defensively jerked them away from her mouth. “Don’t. Just make love to me.”

  “I hate that word,” Sharon warned, biting at her neck.

  “Don’t do this. Why are you doing this?” Teasing, teasing. She groaned in exasperation. “Make love to me, Sharon.”

  Sharon laughed into the pillow. “That word. You know I–”

  That’s right. Forgot. It had been so long. “Then fuck me–fuck me, if that’s what you like.”

  Sharon let her wrists go. “Like? What I like?”

  “Like. Want. I don’t know,” Helaine murmured, rolling onto her stomach. “Whatever.”

  Every part of her ached. She lay still, thoughts churning, searching for something better to say. Nothing came to mind. Between her legs she was quite swollen. She closed her eyes tight. The brilliant lights. She wanted them off now. Perhaps she could sleep, sleep away the fog that had settled on her soul tonight.

  Beside her Sharon had fallen ungodly quiet. She could feel the woman’s malice and wasn’t sure where it had come from. Tonight was bad. It was as if she had been watching herself all evening. Nothing seemed natural.

  She put her hand over her eyes. She hated being speechless.

  “How long have I been gone, Helaine?”

  “Sharon?”

  It had been nine months. Helaine desperately needed sex. Playing games all night had made it an impossibility, too awkward. The woman beside her felt like a stranger, an immovable stranger in her bed, laying motionless and hostile. Why, she didn’t know. “Sharon? What is wrong?”

  No response. Perhaps because she hadn’t gone to the flat to look for her? Sharon hated coming uptown.

  Not her set. Too quiet. “Sharon…?” She listened to the sound of Sharon’s body snaking across the sheets toward her. The touch of a stranger. She jumped at the feel of it and waited for her to speak, trying to interpret her silence.

  “Masturbate for me,” Sharon finally said, lying heavy on Helaine’s back and probing along her sides.

  Helaine tried to turn over. “Sharon…no.” A police hold, or something like it. “Don’t be rough with me. I don’t like it.”

  “Don’t? How long have I been gone, I asked.”

  “Shar–” Harsh hands. “Nine months.“

  “Like? Want?” She pushed Helaine’s face into the pillow. “Whatever?”

  “Sharon, you’re hurting me. I can’t breathe.”

  “Love,” Sharon teased as she leaned into her, “masturbate for me, I said.”

  “Sharon…”

  “Or else.”

  “I don’t like this. I really don’t.”

  Sharon felt between Helaine’s legs. “Liar.”

  Helaine brought her legs together. It was difficult to breathe.

  “Call me darling. You haven’t–open your legs–called me darling all night.”

  Darling? Was that true? All night? Helaine lay quiet and still.

  “Against your will then, doctor. What do you say to that?”

  “I would never forgive you for it.”

  Sharon attempted to pry her legs apart. “Open, darling,” she whispered, jabbing her chin into Helaine’s shoulder blade.

  “If you don’t want to you don’t have to. Leave me be, Sharon.”

  “That would be darling, Dr. Kristenson.”

  Helaine felt her legs giving. “Please...I said forget it.”

  “Spread your legs for me.”

  “Listen to–”

  “Do it.”

  “Sharon, I don’t–” her legs were open now.

  The women lay locked in an ugly silence.

  Helaine could hear her Sharon’s rapid breathing. Hot breath on her back. “Sharon?” She strained to see her, but couldn’t maneuver it. Sharon pressed down harder. “For godsakes, Sharon,” she said through her teeth. “Let me go!”

  Sharon released her arms. Helaine tried propping herself up on her elbows and was pushed down again.


  She listened behind her. “Darling…?” There she said it. The sound of breathing, more weight on her back.

  “Talk to me, Sharon. Tell me what I’ve done.”

  “I don’t want to talk. I’m concentrating.”

  “Concentrating? Please! On what?”

  “Fucking you.”

  Helaine took a quick breath, exhaled. “Then at least let me turn over.” More weight. She laid her face back into the pillow.

  “You have such a perfect ass, Dr. Kristenson.”

  Sharon fondled her, running her hand up her sex. Helaine felt moist on her backside.

  “The nicest I’ve had in months,” Sharon drawled, feeling Helaine’s body stiffen at the offense. She pushed against her anus.

  “Sha–”

  “You heard about all that, didn’t you?”

  Helaine tried once more to get up and failed.

  “Easy,” Sharon warned, tightening her grip.

  Helaine froze.

  “Perfect, Helaine Kristenson.” She licked the small of her back and entered her in the rectum.

  Helaine gasped and tried to fight her off.

  Sharon withdrew and held her down again.

  “Sharon, don’t do this to me. Please.”

  “We’ll just take a little ride, Helaine.” She dragged the blond kicking across the bed and bent her over the edge of it.

  They were both out of breath, the sheets massed around them.

  “You’re ruining me, you know? I can only do blonds now.”

  Ruined. Helaine was silent, her hair sticking to her neck and shoulders, stuck to her face. She tried to raise herself. Sharon leaned against her damp body and entered her once more. She stifled a scream.

  “Where are you when I’m not fucking you, Dr. Kristenson?”

  “I’m–this is–I’m–” Sharon had been hostile ever since she stepped through the door. Helaine tightened.

  “I’m not ready for thi–”

  “Because you’re too tense. Relax doctor.”

  A flash of pain. Helaine groaned. “You’re being too–” Sharon pushed deeper inside and Helaine moaned low in distress.

  “When I’m not fucking your gorgeous ass, Helaine, where do you go?”

  There was nothing to grab onto. It was pointless to answer. Sharon pushed into her and pulled out suddenly. In, then out again. Helaine put her hand over her eyes. They were wet.

  “Relax your legs for me.”

  “Christ–” Her feet barely touched the floor. She grabbed for the sides of the bed but couldn’t reach them.

  “Chill, I said.”

  Her arms were falling asleep. “Give me…a second. I’m–” Her rectum felt full. She felt it begin to move in spasms. Pleasure for the first time in months. She hated herself for it. Sharon pressed against her stomach with her free hand and raised her up slightly from the bed. She clutched at the sheets around her in protest.

  “Did I keep you waiting, doctor?”

  “Wai–”

  “Did I?”

  Helaine’s insides rippled in waves, giving out without her consent. “What–what do you mean?”

  “Waiting for me. I kept you waiting?”

  “Waiting,” she repeated. “I–” spasms. Pleasure and pain. “Yes.” And hatred, coming in waves. Tidal. She couldn’t prevent it. “Jesus…” Cries filled her throat, slipping off her tongue and falling from her lips into the bed sheets. She put her face into the pillow to smother them. Moans, sighs, cries, Sharon’s favorite. She hadn’t earned them tonight. “You’re hurt–”

  “Then relax for me.”

  The pillow was wet. “I…slower…can’t.”

  “Call me darling then.”

  “Slower. Slower then…darling.”

  Slower. Helaine relaxed her legs. Slow. She clamped her hand over her mouth. Slow, slow, slow, slow, slow, slow, slow, slow.

  “Love,” Sharon whispered. “God, I missed you.”

  Pleasure. Nine months. Helaine moaned.

  “Ahh…you’re a slut, Dr. Kristenson,” Sharon murmured, kissing her shoulders and neck. “Do it for me.

  Masturbate.”

  Helaine shook her head.

  “Pretend I’m someone else.”

  She would not. “Let go of me, Sharon.”

  “Never. Did you miss me?”

  Her legs were closing once more. They were forced open again.

  “Want to hear some highlights from my trip, Dr. Kristenson?”

  Helaine winced.

  No reply. Sharon pushed deeper inside her. “Lift,” she demanded.

  “I…my feet.”

  Sharon inched her further down. “Bend, Helaine.”

  “I can’t.”

  “There,” Sharon urged, placing a pillow under her stomach. “Now bend.”

  “You’re going to hurt me...?”

  “No. Bend for me. Put your knee here.”

  Helaine lifted her knee. Sharon pushed. “You didn’t answer me.”

  “You’re–why are you–”

  “Say more, like you missed me. More, darling.”

  NO.

  “More, Helaine. Then I’ll be gentle.”

  “I’m–I’m…more.”

  “More, darling.”

  “Shar–”

  Sharon dropped her weight.

  Pressure. Too much pressure. “More, darling,” Helaine finally whispered, “gentle.”

  “Gentle what?” Sharon nudged.

  “Gentle, darling....”

  Slow and gentle and more.

  “Say it, Helaine.”

  Her legs ached. “What–more?” She regretted letting Sharon in tonight.

  “Fuck me–say it.”

  Helaine buried her face into the sheets. Pain more than pleasure now. Sharon’s face was close to her own.

  She turned away from it. “Fuck me,” she muttered, clenching her fists.

  “Italy. Beautiful country, Helaine.”

  Helaine sucked in sharply.

  “Italy, dear doctor.”

  Pressure. Helaine cried out.

  Such a beautiful count–”

  “Shar–”

  “Warm. Affectionate blonds,” Sharon teased, now stroking Helaine’s sex.

  Helaine let out an anguished sigh, a series of muffled sobs. Then silence. Sharon held her closer. “So fucking beautiful. Such a beautiful little–” she backed her body into hers. “You’re so w–”

  “Sharon, Jesus…please…please, don’t talk to me anymore.” Her arms and legs felt broken. She let them fall slack.

  “Dr. Kristenson?”

  Helaine pressed her mouth into her arm and made a sound in her throat.

  “Beautiful,” Sharon murmured into the blond hair. “Beautiful,” she said again, removing her hand from Helaine’s stomach and stroking between her own legs. “Helaine,” she called softly.

  _____

  When Sharon finally rolled off of her, Helaine lay for a moment where she was left, no sound, no movement, then, nauseous and shivering, she crawled back to the center of the bed and lay there on her stomach, the sheets bunched at her sides and in her face. On the floor she could see her rumpled clothes, left where Sharon had dropped them. In a minute she would be able to stand again, she hoped, and she seriously considered getting dressed and leaving. Behind her she could sense Sharon hovering, but she didn’t have the energy to face her. She felt her hands closing her legs together. She shut her eyes, hid her face in a dampened pillow and listened to her heart beating in her eardrums. It sounded like the ocean. The deep blue sea. Maybe she could sleep. Her sentiments were irreparable though she may not have known it yet. She hoped that Sharon wouldn’t dare make love to her now. She throbbed with discomfort. Her clitoris hurt, the desire to be satisfied there completely gone. Maybe Sharon would leave instead.

  Sharon sat down next to her, waiting for her to say something. Helaine lifted herself silently from the bed and stood beside it in a torpor, her color washed out by the harsh light of the
room. She squinted. The goddamned lights. They always had to be on for this, she thought, avoiding eye contact. Spotlights for these few-and-far-betweens, these…whatevers. Sharon slid to the edge of the bed, studying her, and Helaine turned from her view although from the corner of her eye she could still see her, watching, grinning indecently, waiting, Helaine was sure, to make her next move.

  All these miserable games, Helaine thought, measuring the distance to the bathroom. Ten feet. She steadied herself and started walking.

  Sharon stood up, her interest renewed. She left the bed and followed in after Helaine, washing her hands at the sink and then blocking the doorway while Helaine quietly examined her own reflection and avoided her gaze.

  The air was thick with bad energy and the sight of the toppled blond in the mirror made Helaine feel fainter. She shuddered. There was something sinister about the red traces of lipstick around the woman’s nipples. Disassociated from her, there seemed to be three women in the small bathroom and Helaine suddenly felt trapped and claustrophobic in there, ashamed of her own silence, threatened by the figure looming in the doorway.

  “That was awful, Sharon. What in the world is the matter with you?”

  Sharon shifted in agitation. She looked poisonous, but said nothing.

  “Are you this rough with–”

  “Oh, c’mon. Who the fuck is it, Helaine?”

  “Who is–?”

  “Don’t give me that shit. Who the fuck is it?”

  Helaine was still dazed and it took her a moment to fully understand. She stood dumbfounded. How ridiculous she felt. An image darted into her mind and feeling scandalized by the suggestion she put it out hurriedly while the specter of a double standard glared at her from the doorway.

  “Sharon,” she said incredulously, “you must be joking.”

  Sharon scoffed. “No, I don’t joke, Helaine. Is it a man or a woman?”

  “A–why would you think that?” Helaine was eager to get dressed again. She eyed Sharon anxiously. “You know me better than that.”

  “Two hours, Helaine? Two hours before asking me to fuck you?”

  Helaine attempted to pass through the doorway without commenting, but Sharon stopped her with her arm. She distrusted her now, stepped backwards. “Why should I have to ask you, Sharon? Why do I need to?”