Neighbors

by Ashleigh Royce

  At the foot of the bed, each cocooned within our own towel he kisses me. “Mmmmm, my favorite flavor,” I say.

  He reminds me of my earlier promise. “You said I could have you if I let you get dressed before.”

  “I said I’d make you feel good if you let me get dressed.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” His gaze is on me. I feel his heat. In the sultriest voice I can muster, I say, “Can I unwrap my present now?”

  Through rapid breaths he responds. “Please do.”

  I pull the towel from his body and toss it onto the floor. I inhale to steady myself. He is such a beautiful man and I enjoy looking at him.

  “My turn,” he says as he did the same with my towel. My hands wander over his chest and arms. He mirrors my actions then caresses my back. His lips are behind my ear and he trails butterfly kisses down my neck. Everything inside me tightens. I feel his smile against my collarbone.

  “Should I stop?”

  “No,” I say, breathlessly.

  His mouth continues its journey down the outside of my right breast. Electricity runs through my body. He crosses to my left breast and continues down. Inside me tension is building. I need him.

  His lips are at my navel. “Your turn,” he says.

  I’m confused until he offers me a place on the bed. I sit, but he helps me back. “Lie down,” he commands.

  He lifts my left leg and holds my foot to his lips. They brush my instep and he deposits small kisses in a row that leads up to my knee. It’s sensual and every synapse in my body is awake. He abandons my left leg for the right and he begins the process over. When he reaches my right knee, the kisses turn to nibbles and he continues up my inner thigh. Anticipation is building in me. My skin is on fire. I know where he’s headed and my thoughts are ricocheting.

  One finger traces where his tongue leaves off. It moves further up and glides over my clitoris. A wave surges through my body. His finger travels downward and he slips it inside me. “So wet. I like that.” As I absorb his words his tongue makes small circles on my power button. My hips shift upward, but his hands press down on my hips.

  He doesn’t stop. He licks and swirls his tongue around. I’m loosing myself in the deep sensation. I can’t see any thing. I can’t hear anything. I can only feel the intensity between my legs.

  My body begs for relief. I can’t deny it any longer. And I come crashing down as my body is seized by my orgasm. I’m panting and trying to regain myself. Dylan climbs on the bed and rolls me over and onto my knees. He moves behind me and very slowly, he takes me. Because I’m so sensitive now, it feels euphoric. He waits a beat then pulls back just as slowly.

  “Ahhhhhh!” his voice quivers. Then he slams into me. The sudden force causes my body to react. I convulse with pleasure as he slides back slowly and thrusts into me again. He does it again two or three times. I’m close to the edge. The sheet is twisted in my fist.

  “Let go.” It’s a command. And I obey. I detonate around him. He pounds me once more and screams out, “Yes!” and presses himself into me. His body stills.

  He rolls onto the bed next to me, both of us trying to calm our breathing.

  “Oh my God, Melissa. That was incredible,” he says through his own heavy breath. He turns to face me. A small chill caused my skin to pimple. He reaches over me and pulls the covers around us. And with the lovely sound of his heartbeat next to my ear, we fall asleep.

  The next morning, I dismiss my crazy thoughts from the night before. I’m sure there’s a good explanation, if it even was Dylan with her.

  Twenty-Nine

  For New Year’s Eve we opt to spend a quiet night at home. Tracy and Kyle come over for take-in Chinese food, but they leave right after we watch the ball in Times Square drop on the television.

  I fall asleep waiting for Dylan to finish showering.

  In the morning, he greets me with breakfast in bed.

  “What’s this for?” I ask.

  “I want to start the year off right,” he says.

  “Oh? Were you off to a bad start before?”

  “No, but I figured this would earn me some points in case I did anything stupid.”

  “Are you planning on doing something stupid?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” I take the tray and put in on the side table.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” he asks with curiosity.

  “Yes, but first I’m going to give you what I owe you?”

  “What you owe me?”

  One corner of my mouth lifts. “I believe I fell asleep before we could have New Year’s sex.”

  A devilish grin pulls at both sides of his mouth. I pat the bed next to me. He jumps up like a kid whose going to receive a gift for good behavior. Then I show him how to start the new year off right.

  * * *

  We manage to escape a harsh winter. It only snows twice. I make sure I drive more carefully and I eat all the right foods, Gladys and Eileen make sure of it. They do most of the legwork for me as I tire more easily now that I’m carrying more weight. But, they never complain. Tracy’s calls increase to three a day, but she isn’t really interested in my day; she wants to know how the baby is doing. My parents stop over at the house on Sundays to visit. They love Dylan and are thrilled that he will be my baby’s father. And Dylan… Dylan is absolutely wonderful.

  “What color do you want to paint the baby’s bedroom?” he asks.

  I sit at the kitchen table with my feet up on the chair opposite me. A mug of decaffeinated tea rests on my belly as I eat my jam-saturated toast. “Well, since we don’t want to know the sex of the baby, I thought we should go with a pale green. The animal pattern we picked will look nice with that. We can always add to it once the baby gets here.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll pick up some swatches today and you can pick the shade before we go to my Dad’s for dinner tonight.” He kisses my forehead. “Then I can paint while you’re out of the house. I don’t want you breathing in the fumes.”

  * * *

  “Melissa, Dylan, I’m so glad you could make it,” Stuart says bidding us entrance. He shows us into the living room. Dylan and I sit on the couch, his arm around me, and Stuart in the chair across from us. His graying temples make him look quite distinguished. “Melissa, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m doing well, Stuart. Thanks for asking.”

  “I have to admit, pregnancy suits you. It‘s true what they say, pregnant women do have a glow.”

  I blush and look down at my hands. “Where’s Maria?” I ask to deflect the attention.

  “She’s out shopping with some girlfriends. Probably spending way too much money, as usual.” He smiles but it’s unconvincing. He shifts the conversation. “Dylan, the reason I’ve asked you here is because I have a business proposition for you.”

  Dylan moves his arm from behind me and sits forward to give his father his full attention.

  Stuart dons his no-nonsense, business expression. “Dylan, you’re a family man now and you need to have a secure job to provide for that grandbaby of mine. I want you to join me in running the family business. I will retire in four years but we can use this time to groom you. Then you can take over and run the company. That way you won’t run the risk of getting hurt. You put yourself in harms way climbing up on houses and buildings. My grandbaby needs a daddy.”

  I have to admit, I was a bit nervous before we arrived, but after hearing Stuart’s proposal, I’m more at ease. This is a good plan.

  “I’ll think about it, Dad, okay?”

  Stuart seems content with that promise. I think he knows if he says any more Dylan might reject the offer. “All right then. You two talk about it later.” He winks at me. So that’s why I was invited in on the discussion, so that I can convince him this is a good plan.

  “Gretta’s made some of your favorites, Dylan. Let’s not keep her waiting,” Stuart says.

  And he’s right. Gretta has made another incredible dinner, from soup to nuts. She ev
en lets me help clean up. I think she finally realizes that I’m not like Maria. I don’t like others waiting on me when I can help. Plus Gretta worked hard preparing everything. Why should she have to clean up all alone too?

  “Thank you, Melissa,” she says. She takes the plates from me before placing them into the sink. “You no have to. I do.”

  “I know, but I want to help. It’s my way of saying thank you for such a wonderful meal.”

  She smiles and looks away. I guess Maria never compliments her. She nods.

  Dylan doesn’t talk during the car ride home. I expect he’s thinking of his father’s proposal.

  “That was very generous of your father to offer you this position in his company.”

  “I don’t want to be controlled, Melissa.” His tone is harsh.

  “Who’s controlling you? He said he’d teach you and then you’d be in charge.”

  “Sitting behind a desk, in a suit, listening to other men in suits try to bullshit me, that’s not who I am.”

  I didn’t expect him to be angry about the offer. “I just thought—“

  “Well, I don’t want it!” The sudden volume in his voice startles me. Being pregnant and hormonally emotional doesn’t help. Tears well up in my eyes. I decide not to say anything else. I stare out the window, wiping my tears as soon as they spill.

  Dylan parks in the driveway. The minute he cuts the engine, I wiggle out of the car, race into the house and run upstairs to the bedroom. The crying doesn’t stop for several minutes.

  As I sit on the bed, I wonder why Dylan is so against this plan. It’s a secure position, something that is stable, and…boring. Then I think about it some more. I wouldn’t want anyone to tell me I couldn’t be a nurse. I guess that’s what Dylan means about being controlled. Deciding I’m not going to press him again, I walk downstairs to apologize for intruding. Dylan is on the phone. I don’t want him to see me so I lean back and hide at the bottom of the steps, listening to his conversation.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he says. “What? Leave now? I can’t, Melissa’s upstairs…Okay. I’ll be right there.”

  My body betrays me and I sneeze.

  “I’ve gotta go. See you soon.” He hangs up as I waddle into the kitchen.

  “Who was that?”

  “Ah, no one.” He picks up his car keys and cell phone from the kitchen counter where he threw them. “I’ve got to run to the store, I’ll be right back.” Without another word, he’s out the door and his truck starts. The tears return, faster this time. I go back upstairs. Between sniffles and tissues, I put on my pajamas. They’re snug around my waist. Despite my growing size, the bed is empty without Dylan. I stare at the ceiling in the darkness, thinking of whom he could have been talking to.

  The alarm wakes me the next morning. Dylan is sleeping on his side of the bed. I didn’t hear him come in last night, I think. Then I get dressed. All of my clothes are getting too tight. I’d have to go shopping for maternity clothes very soon. When I arrive at the hospital, Gladys notices the same thing.

  “Oooh, girl, you are gettin’ big.” She peeks at me over her bifocals.

  “I know. I’m going shopping this week.”

  She pats my belly, as she does every day. “That’s okay. That means my little baby is growing just right.” She talks to my stomach. “You keep it up, baby.”

  Eileen skips over. “Jeez, what’d you eat a watermelon over the weekend?”

  “Come on, I’m not that big.”

  Her eyebrows rise. “Try looking at you from this angle.” She smiles, but I’m not in a smiling mood, so I don’t return it.

  The morning starts out hectic. I’m on my feet for most of the day. My back hurts from carrying the weight in front. I sit on the extra chair behind the nurse’s station counter.

  Just after two o’clock, we have an unannounced visit by Greg.

  “You aren’t supposed to be down here,” I say as he walks off the elevator. “At least not on the days that I work.”

  He smirks. “Well one of my patients came into the ER complaining of chest pains. I thought I should have a look at him before he dies down here.”

  “Who is it?” I ask.

  “Now, now. You don’t have to have an attitude, Mel,” he says in his typical condescending tone. He tells me the name of the patient. I pull the chart and walk around the nurse’s station, to escort him to the correct curtain. “Whoa! What happened to you? Have you been getting too comfortable with that new boyfriend of yours?”

  I turn to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, there’s no kind way to say this, Mel. You’re…fat.” Then he looks more closely. “Wait. You aren’t fat. Are you…pregnant?”

  I grin. “As a matter of fact, I am. Seven and a half months pregnant, to be exact.”

  “A one night stand gone wrong, Mel?” He snickers.

  I put my hand on my hip and smirk. “I don’t have one night stands, Greg. That’s you. And I don’t think my husband would be too happy with your accusation, since Dylan and I have amazing sex every night.” Eileen and Gladys pretend to be busy, but I know they’re listening. By their small smirks I can tell they’re happy that I’m finally standing up to Greg.

  “Husband? Wow, didn’t think you’d do that again.”

  I use my middle finger to express how I feel about his comment. Gladys’s eyebrows are high on her face, and Eileen has a huge smile to show her approval of my new attitude.

  “Okay, okay. I didn’t mean to insult you.” He turns his head from side to side to make sure he has an audience. “It’s just you and I never really had…”

  “That’s because you were screwing everyone else, Greg. You didn’t have time for me when I was your wife. You made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to touch me after we got married because you didn’t want me to get pregnant and ruin my body. Now do you want to see Mr. Kowalski, or not?”

  “Yes, yes. Show me where he is.”

  From that point on, my whole day is ruined. I have to lock myself in a bathroom stall several times after that, so I can cry.

  At the end of my shift, I collect my things and walk to my car. I almost make it without incident when I hear my name being called. I turn. Greg is practically jogging to catch up to me.

  “Thanks for stopping.”

  “What do you want, Greg?” I am not in the mood for his antics.

  “I want to apologize, Mel. I didn’t mean to insult you. You look great. I know you’ll be a fantastic mother.”

  I squint. “Thanks. Is that it?” I move forward to return to my walk to my car.

  He jumps in front of me.

  “What?”

  “I’m trying to be nice, Mel.”

  “Greg, you’ve never been nice, especially to me.”

  “Seriously.” He stares at me with sincerity, which I’ve never seen on Greg. “Ever since I tried to… you know, force myself on you, I’ve been seeing a therapist to manage my control issues and the way I treat people. I’m trying to better myself, if you can believe that, Mel. My doctor is really helping me. He says I’m making a lot of progress. I actually feel good about myself now.”

  I don’t expect that. I don’t trust him either. “That’s great, Greg. But you’ve always made sure you felt good.”

  “Its different now, Mel. I want to feel good about the connections I make; how I treat people. The doctor says I’m doing well.”

  “Congratulations.”

  He reaches for my hand, but I pull away. I don’t want him to touch me.

  His eyes register my pain. “Mel, I know I hurt you, worse than anyone. I know I can never make it up to you, but can you just think about giving me a chance to be… a friend?”

  I stare at him, waiting for the other head to pop out of his neck. Then I realize he means it. “Oh my god, you’re serious,” I say.

  He nods. “I am, Mel. I’m on the right track now.”

  I entertain the thought for a moment. It
is possible… “I’ll give it some thought. No promises though.”

  “That’s all I can ask.” The corners of his mouth tug upward. “Thanks, Mel.”

  He turns and walks back toward the hospital. I’m frozen, waiting for him to come back and shout “April Fool’s,” but he disappears beyond the automatic doors.

  When I arrive home, there’s a note on the kitchen table. “Won’t be home for dinner. Had a meeting. –D”

  A meeting? What kind of meeting? The lack of daylight hours and the rainy month of April shorten his workdays. And is his cell phone broken? He couldn’t call me to tell me that?

  Dylan is usually always home before I am these days, so the house is empty when I get there. I take a shower, put on my fluffy bathrobe and sit in front of the living room television, eating a whole container of double fudge ice cream mixed with tears.

  Dylan doesn’t walk in until ten o’clock. Not once before his key jingles in the lock did he attempt to contact me. Flashes of my life with Greg appear in my head. How many nights did I sit at home alone without the faintest clue as to where he was? Like an idiot I believed his excuses that he was called to the hospital on an emergency or out with his colleagues, when in fact, he was sleeping with everything with boobs. I don’t take my eyes off the television. I can’t look at Dylan; it will only make me cry again.

  “Sorry, I’m so late. Meeting ran longer than I expected.” He starts to undress as he walks up the stairs. The bathroom door closes and I hear the water from the shower. I climb the stairs. His clothes are piled on the bed. I lift them to move them into the laundry basket. A sweet fragrance catches my attention. Lifting his shirt to my nose, the smell is strong. It reeks of perfume. That bastard. I had a feeling this might happen. Here I go again.

  I sit on the bed and the tears stream down in rapid succession. Before I know it, my body is heaving. I throw his clothes down on the floor and get into bed. When I hear the water stop, I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep.