North Star

by Angeline M. Bishop

  Caresse sat, watching his back for a minute or two, sensing his confusion and frustration, yet she knew the last thing she needed was a man in her life. Her past had taught her that if she let him into her life, soon he would be taking away her sense of self, or making her a slave to his will. Yes, she was attracted to him, but she didn’t know him. What she did know was that she was tired of her heart bleeding because of controlling men. She’d finally come to a place where she was healed. Why should she put herself in a romantic situation so quickly after she’d finally achieved peace in her life? It didn’t make sense, she thought. And until it did, Mr. Sheridan was off limits. And that would have to be that.

  Caresse stood up and headed toward Janet and Roland’s bedroom. As she neared the boys’ room, Matthew and Mark’s smiling faces greeted her. They were taking some of their favorite toys into the guestroom. The happiness on their faces told Caresse they didn’t get to sleep in that room very often. Janet came down the hallway and placed a football jersey and a silk robe in Caresse’s hands. “I hope you’ll be comfortable in this. I don’t really own anything that could fit your small frame.”

  “This will be fine.”

  “Where’s Graham?” Janet asked as she place two sets of toothbrushes, towels, and washcloths on the boys’ desk beside a red flashlight and a lantern.

  “He stepped out on the deck for some fresh air, but he’ll be in shortly.”

  Janet appeared a bit puzzled as she walked to the window to peer down at the rain-drenched street below. Her lips suddenly thinned with displeasure. “If you need anything, just knock, Caresse. I stay up until eleven. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Caresse knew it was only a matter of time before Janet and Roland compared notes regarding her, but she couldn’t stop that. I’m not dating Graham anyway, she thought when she entered the bathroom to change into the football jersey.

  She hadn’t worn one of these in years, but it was comfortable, and she felt good in a sexy, sporty kind of way. Caresse took off her jewelry and let down her hair before removing her makeup and brushing her teeth. Once she was ready for bed, she returned to the boys’ bedroom.

  She placed Janet’s robe and her things on a small recliner and used the light of the lantern to look at the posters on the Matthew and Mark’s walls. There was a WWE wrestling heroes poster placed between the windows. A comic book poster of Black Panther and Wolverine of X-Men was displayed on the back of the door, and pop singers Rihanna and Beyoncé peered into the room near the closet. She saw trophies on their bookshelf and let her fingers feel their coolness as she pondered how different boys rooms were from girls. Then, the bedroom door swung open.

  Caresse turned to see Graham carrying his jacket and tie. He closed the door behind himself and took a step toward her. His gaze scanned her body, resting on the football jersey and he let out a hardly laugh.

  “What’s so funny, haven’t you ever seen a woman in a jersey?” Caresse stood her ground, placed one hand on her hip, and held the lantern up to see the amused expression on his face.

  He circled her, and Caresse could practically feel the sexual tension in the air. “Yes, I’ve seen a woman in a jersey, just not in that one.”

  Caresse glanced at the garment. “What’s wrong with the Steelers?”

  “Oh, nothing. Do you wear jerseys around your house?”

  “No, not for about two years or so. It’s not like I have a guy’s closet to raid. Roland was nice enough to let me borrow it tonight. It’s very comfortable.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes, it is,” Caresse said as she placed the lantern on the dresser and folded her arms around her body. “I may have to go get me one the next time I’m in the mall.”

  “I guess Roland or Janet didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “That’s my jersey. I lent it to Roland last year. I haven’t seen it since. And tonight, it’s being modeled by you.”

  Caresse blushed. “You aren’t going to demand it back, are you?

  “If I did, would you give it to me?”

  “Not until I have my clothes back on.”

  He shook his head and began taking off his shirt. “Fine. It looks better on you, anyway. Which bunk do you want?”

  She tried to turn her head to look at the beds on the other side of the room, but the sight of his muscular chest captivated her. She couldn’t utter a word as she studied the lines of his body and his six-pack, which seemed more like an eight-pack. Is that possible, she thought as she watched him removed his shoes, then slowly undo his belt.

  She quickly inhaled when she saw his hand grip his zipper. He wasn’t really going to undress in front of her, was he? Startled, she glanced at his face. That’s when she noticed him smiling at her.

  “Which bed, Caresse? Or are you sleeping with me?”

  “I-I’ll take the top bunk.” She grabbed a hold of the sturdy ladder and climbed.

  As she lifted her leg over the top rail, she heard Graham mumble “Damn,” under his breath. She knew his eyes were on her, so she quickly lifted herself over, and laid down. She stared at the ceiling and wondered what she was thinking to get on the top bunk with him still in the room. He had to have gotten quite a view of her panties, maybe more. She should have waited until he had gone to the restroom.

  “Caresse?”

  “Yes?” she whispered.

  “Listen, I like you, and I was hoping we could use this time to get to know each other better. I get it. You really don’t want a relationship, but you can’t let events with an old flame color my chances with you.”

  “I hardly know you.”

  “Then get to know me. Ask me something, anything you want. We have all night.” Graham turned off the lantern and shut off the flashlight. He removed his socks and slacks and laid on the bunk beneath her in his boxers.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Very. Ask me anything you want. Then you can tell me why you’d rather drive home in a storm, instead of staying here with me.”

  She thought back to Graham’s face after they had kissed in the living room. When she abruptly pulled away from him and dashed for the door, his demeanor had hardened. But the intense emotions he’d stirred in her were overwhelming and made it hard to think straight. She began to wonder if her infatuation could turn into something meaningful, but she knew, deep down, she wasn’t ready to get involved.

  “Tell me all about you,” she whispered in the darkness.

  Graham talked about his parents and his childhood with four siblings. She asked him whatever came to her mind: his likes and dislikes, his dreams and aspirations. And before she knew it, their superficial talk gradually deepened into an intimate conversation. Eventually he revealed his longing to smell a home-cooked meal pouring from his kitchen and to hear a woman’s tender voice whispering in his ear in the middle of the day.

  Caresse listened carefully, preferring to ask questions, than to reveal answers. But when Graham told her he wanted to make love to a woman who wouldn’t hold herself back, she stopped him.

  “Men don’t cherish a woman totally giving herself,” Caresse breathed. “If anything, most men take such a gift and turn it into their entitlement.”

  “You’re wrong. My parents taught me real love is a giving relationship. I’m not saying they didn’t have their arguments, but they made it work. I believe the woman for me is out there.”

  Caresse leaned over the rail and stared down at him. “If she is, then maybe the boy I once prayed for is out there, too.”

  “What boy?”

  “When I was nine, I decided to pray for a boyfriend that wasn’t afraid of jumping makeshift ramps made of concrete bricks and wooden boards. I wanted a boy that could climb trees to the very top and one who would love science experiments. I told myself I needed a boy that had so many matchbox cars that he would have them stored in a special collector’s case. I guess I was praying for a boy who really cared about the things he possessed...
so that he would cherish me the same way.”

  “Stop, you’re making my chest hurt.”

  “Why?”

  “I was that type of boy.”

  “Yeah, right, I’m so sure you were.”

  “I’m not lying. I use to do all those types of things. In fact, my mother feared I would set the house on fire with my experiments.”

  Caresse laid back down and contemplated the irony. “We better get some sleep.” She yawned. “It’s getting late.”

  “Okay. But you didn’t give me my goodnight kiss.”

  She made a kissing sound and blew a kiss in the air. “Goodnight, Graham.”

  “Goodnight, Caresse.”

  An hour later, the only sound in the room was the pounding of the rain on the windows. Graham laid in the darkness and thought about the things he had shared with her. He wondered if he had provided too much insight into the type of man he was. He couldn’t help it, but what plagued him was figuring out if she would ever let him in.

  Graham heard a change in her breathing and knew she was sleeping now. But the restless shifting told him she wasn’t comfortable. Graham started to ask Caresse if she wanted to sleep on the floor with him when something fell out of her bed.

  He picked up the soft garment. It was his jersey. He pulled it to his nose and smelled her perfume lingering on it. He stood up and peered over the rail into her bed. In the moonlight, she appeared to be naked. She was sleeping on her stomach with her arms tightly hugging her pillow. Her face was turned away from him toward the wall and a thin sheet covered one of her legs and her buttocks. He stood there and watched her for a few minutes. She was breathtaking. He forgot how much he liked watching a woman sleep. They’re nothing alike, he quickly thought. Don’t compare. He wouldn’t. He fought his desire to touch her as his body began to react to the sight of her, naked, an arm’s reach away. He placed his jersey on the recliner, took his bedding from the bunk, and placed them on the floor. Once he set his head on the pillow, he decided to make Caresse see he was the man for her.

  Chapter 5

  Caresse woke first. She shifted to her back and stared at a textured ceiling before rolling over to peer down at Graham sleeping on the floor. She let out a long sigh, memorizing his muscular, well-defined back and gave herself permission to have a few wicked thoughts. He was the epitome of everything she’d craved for months.

  She sat up and glanced down at her body, a turquoise thong her only garment, and hugged the sheets tightly to her breasts. She vaguely remembered taking the jersey off when she was trying to sleep. She had forgotten she wasn’t at home. It’s a good thing he’s not awake, she thought as she looked around Matthew and Mark’s bedroom.

  She shifted her body gently, lifting herself out of the top bunk, then climbed down the ladder like a cat burglar. When she reached the floor, she towered over Graham, half-naked, wondering what she would do if he opened his eyes to look at her. Her nipples hardened at the thought of him pulling her down to the floor and making love to her. She shook her head at the absurdity of the impulsive fantasy and slowly walked toward her belongings.

  She slipped back into her suit. Part of her was curious to see if Graham possessed a morning smile that could make her feel warm all over, but she knew he wanted more from her than she was capable of giving.

  She gathered her purse and heels in her hands and paused for a few minutes to write a brief note. She wanted to tell him how much she appreciated the way he’d shared his memories of his mother and his old college escapades at Princeton, but he would have more questions if she did. So she wrote something quickly, kneeled to place the note near his pillow, and walked quietly out of the bedroom–back to her life.

  Graham was awakened by two little nephews in search of fun. “Where’s Ms. Caresse?” Luke pleaded. “I want to show her my video game.”

  “Yeah, and I want her to fix me breakfast,” Little John said, patting his stomach like his father.

  Graham rubbed his unshaven face and searched the room. Caresse’s things were gone. He got to his feet and peered out the window. Only his car remained parked by the curb.

  “Great,” he mumbled.

  He transferred his gaze to his nephews and explained that she had some errands to take care of this morning. They were disappointed, but understood as they bounced down the hallway to wake their brothers.

  He sat on a nearby cedar chest and racked his brain to determine why Caresse had left without a word when his eyes drifted to a piece of paper next to his pillow. He picked it up to read:

  Graham—Thanks for letting me meet your wonderful family. I had a great time. Everything you’ll need for your article is on the counter downstairs. If there’s something I forgot, please don’t hesitate to call Ms. Mason, the center’s director. She has all the answers. Please give my thanks to Janet and Roland for their hospitality. —C.

  Such an impersonal letter incensed him. After all he had told her last night and the way they’d kissed, she would leave him a letter like that? Okay, Ms. Aldana. I’ve got your message loud and clear, he thought. You don’t want a man in your life, fine. I’m not going to try to make you see things differently.

  On Monday evening, Caresse watched young adults move through a dance routine with skill and agility. She beamed as Ty worked the stereo and made sure no one entered the gym while practice was in session. He knew she always became unnerved at sudden interruptions. The Latin influenced hip-hop dance was coming together nicely. The teens and young adults had gotten over their trepidation and awkwardness as they began feeling the music. The voice of rapper Pitbull poured from the speakers and quickly everyone was feeling the tempo of the bass drum.

  Caresse stood by the mirrored wall in a deep purple dance suit with a matching flowing skirt. Glancing in the mirror, she caught her reflection. If she didn’t have a clipboard in her hands, people would have thought she was a youth. Could the glow in her cheeks have anything to do with Graham? With her hair pulled back in a bun, she began walking between the couples, correcting their movements.

  When the music faded, Caresse clapped her hands and yelled, “That’s all everyone. You’ve done so well today, I’m letting you guys get out of here ten minutes early.”

  There was a roar of cheers as everyone raced for water bottles, gym bags, and the exit doors. She had worked them very hard today to keep her thoughts in check. There was a lot on the line with this year’s Mason Ball. The youth were featured in a musical number at Yvette’s insistence. Caresse had tried to get another dance instructor to handle the responsibilities, but no one wanted to work with the kids after 5 PM. It was so hard to keep anyone in the Mason Center on nice summer evenings. And if she had to guess, the kids were headed to the Seaside Heights boardwalk for some fun of their own.

  Caresse lowered the lights as the final young adults joked about dance movements they had forgotten as they exited the studio. When the room emptied, Caresse walked over to her portable stereo and began to gather up her CDs. Ty played popular CDs when everyone was warming up, but he always made her collection look like a tornado had struck. She made a mental note to have him to clean the music area at end of their next session.

  Caresse straightened the CDs in her case while she placed a CD by Divino in the portable stereo. She loved the way the Spanish language took her to another time and place in her mind. As the music filled the room, she promised herself she would consider teaching a Spanish course at the center next summer. She grew tried of hearing the kids singing a few Spanish lyrics they heard from reggaeton songs and not know the meaning of the lyrics.

  She glanced around the room when the memory of Graham kissing her came to mind. Warm, persistent lips, and the smell of his cologne had left her feeling intoxicated in his arms. No matter how she tried to shake his kisses from her mind, they kept reoccurring before her eyes. He’s just a man, she thought. Any good-looking man would have you thinking about him. He’s a man that made you very aware you’re a woman. She tried to make herself
see how silly primal reactions are when her life was filled with much responsibility. It may take a week or two, but she would soon forget him. Once his article was written, even Yvette would stop questioning her about him. All she needed was to get her mind off him.

  The voice of Divino, a Puerto Rican reggaeton artist, came to life as ‘Mi Vida’ poured into the room. It was a song about a man swearing his love and protection for his woman for the rest of his life. A wave of guilt swamped Caresse as she recalled the note she left Graham. It was so formal and cold, leaving no clue of what he had stirred in her. Caresse began to sway to the music. As her movements took flight, her dancing became more expressive. She didn’t want to admit it, but she’d wanted Graham from the moment she saw him, from the moment he touched her, but all was lost because she’d chosen to walk away.

  As the last notes of the song played out, she lowered to the floor, folded her arms around herself, and cried. She wasn’t sure where the tears were coming from, but they came in long, drawn out sobs.

  Let it go, she thought. Forget about love, Chica. It most certainty has forgotten about you.

  Yvette glanced over the rough draft of the article Graham had placed in her hands, and soon the frown on her face mirrored his own. He had given the information about the center to one of his staff writers and the article came across as informative, yet very impersonal. Ms. Mason’s lighthearted personality did nothing to make the worried look dissipate from her face.

  Ms. Mason raised concerned eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I’d say this article is a poor representation of the center. It’s dry! Very, very dry.” Her voice trembled. “It needs our passion, our spirit of commitment, our drive for excellence.”

  “I agree.” Graham nodded.

  “I can’t afford for a mediocre article to be our looking glass. You need more insights from our volunteers and the youth. Even the parents of the students would let you know how the community counts on our services.”