by Loomis, Lisa
Chapter 3
When we arrived in San Jose late afternoon on that Friday, my parents dropped me off at Gayle’s. Gayle had moved in across the street from us when I was eight, and it hadn’t taken us long to become best friends. Growing up, we were inseparable. We counseled each other on everything in life, especially boys. Even though I hadn’t visited San Jose in a long time, we still kept in close contact.
“Have fun tonight. We’ll pick you up tomorrow around four thirty. Wedding is at five thirty at the Almaden Country Club,” Mom said, leaning out the window.
“I’ll be ready,” I said, grabbing my suitcase out of the trunk.
I leaned into the car and gave her a kiss. She smelled good; she had put on a perfume I couldn’t remember the name of that she wore on special occasions, her getting to see her best friend being one.
“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” I said, shooting him a smile across the inside of the car. “See you, Pat.”
My parents and Pat were off to Mathew’s parents’ house for the weekend. I was glad it wasn’t a problem, me wanting to stay with Gayle. It still surprised me that our lives had taken completely different paths when she’d disclosed to me at eighteen that she was gay. She’d actually worried that it would change my feelings for her, but it hadn’t. And then there was that move that had taken me so far away. I was pleased to have this chance to catch up with her.
Standing in her driveway in front of the cute place she shared with a girlfriend, I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic for my childhood. I looked about the mature, if somewhat overgrown neighborhood, which was so like the street she and I grew up on. The large oak trees dotting the hillside reminded me of the ones we had climbed as kids, bringing a smile to my lips. I breathed in a faint scent of jasmine, a fragrance that always reminded me of the Almaden Valley. The sun was hitting the rolling hills behind her house, reflecting their golden color just so. The sensory overload brought so much of my youth rushing back to me, fragments of time clicking through my mind, intensifying my sense of coming home.
“Are you going to just stand there,” Gayle demanded, interrupting the picture show in my head.
I looked away from the hills to find her standing in her doorway, arms crossed in front of her. Grinning, I picked up my suitcase and walked toward her. I thought about Mom and when she saw Ann and could feel her same sense of elation.
“Got any wine?” I teased.
“I’m glad to see you too,” she said.
She dropped her arms then and came to me grabbing me up in a hug. We stood like that swaying.
“It’s been far too long, come in, come in.”
She had bought one of my favorite wines, and she poured me a glass as we stood in her small kitchen.
“Let’s get comfy in the living room,” she suggested.
I followed her into a room that was cozy; a dark gold velvet like fabric was on the couch with bright throw pillows and a glass topped coffee table. A small rug lay under it setting off the shiny wood floors. We stayed up late, talking, catching up on all the new things going on in our lives. She brought me up to speed on who in San Jose was doing what, who was seeing who, or at least the people she still kept in touch with. She didn’t know much about Mathew, only that his band was still playing around town.
“Tell me about the accident,” she said finally.
“Oh, Gayle, it was such bad judgment. Max had asked me not to drive his Blazer, but I caught him in another lie the morning of the reception, and it pissed me off. I saw it as another one of his control issues, and since I like driving his Blazer—and it is more comfortable than my small Honda—well, he wasn’t around when I left for the reception, but his keys were, so I thought fuck him I’m taking it. I didn’t know until after the accident it was because he’d cancelled the insurance on it.”
“It wasn’t insured?” Gayle asked, surprised.
“No, apparently he was in the process of switching companies. I didn’t know. It’s cost me like four grand to get it fixed. An insurance company would have totaled it,” I said grumpily as I slumped back on the sofa.
Gayle let out a small whistle.
“My anger at Max fueled my staying at the reception with Randy longer than I planned. Well, that and the fact he was dancing with me, up close.”
Gayle’s eyebrow went up.
“I drank more than I should, but I didn’t feel drunk, just buzzed,” I said. “Poor decision.”
“Who’s Randy?”
I adjusted myself on her couch, pulling my legs up sort of Indian style.
“A cute guy that Max isn’t particularly fond of,” I said with a grin.
Gayle smiled knowingly. She knew I liked the boys, especially the good-looking ones.
“I would have thought between my accident and your arrest in high school, you would know better, girl. Have you lost your brain?” Gayle asked.
I winced, remembering the year Gayle was hit head-on by a drunk driver when we were seventeen. I had come back to San Jose after it happened and spent a month with her that summer. Her injuries had been significant, and I had wanted to be there for her. As we talked about my accident, I again felt guilty that I hadn’t taken more than a few of life’s lessons to heart. That at my age I had acted so irresponsibly.
“What about Mathew?” she asked.
I’d dated Mathew that same summer, and he’d broken my heart. His playboy bad behavior had sent me running back to Gayle more than once, to the comfort of her friendship. I remembered the day at the beach on the dirt path, when he’d said we weren’t a couple. I could recall that hurt, how it had ripped through me. I’d refused to see him again that trip and had gone back to Escondido with my heart hurting and he had gone on to Anna.
“What about him?” I asked innocently.
She furrowed her brow at me.
“What do you mean, what about him? Are you excited to see him?” she asked.
“I look forward to catching up; it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to him. But I can’t go down the old path, Gayle. There’s Max now. The very last summer I was with him was great, but we were eighteen for god’s sake and living in two different cities. I can’t imagine there is anything still there,” I said.
I surely wondered though how I would feel when I saw him again.
“Right answer,” she said sarcastically.
Gayle had weathered the ups and downs of my years with Mathew. Young love that had overwhelmed me more than once. Gayle liked him well enough, just not necessarily with me. She was my reality check where he was concerned, brutally honest, for I had never been very rational where he was concerned.
“You look great,” Gayle said as I finished dressing for the wedding the next afternoon.
The teal dress I wore was sheer and it flowed nicely around me when I moved. I bought it for that reason and I knew me in it would catch Mathew’s eye, even if there was a blond on his arm.
“I’m kind of nervous about seeing everyone again, going back in time. You’re sure you won’t come with me?” I begged again.
“I don’t know those people very well. Listen, you’ll have a great time. You hung out with those families for years. It will be like old home week. Say hi to Mathew for me, and don’t let him in,” she cautioned.
Gayle was right. From the moment we arrived at the wedding, it felt comfortable. My nervousness disappeared almost instantly. People had grown older, but the personalities hadn’t changed.
“Mom, this is beautiful, isn’t it? It feels so magical. Doesn’t Melanie look gorgeous?” I asked, looking around at the beautifully decorated ballroom.
White tablecloths were draped over the circular tables and flowers were everywhere. The chairs had white covers with large bows on the back, and the tables were beautifully set. It was such a contrast to the reception hall the night of my accident.
“She does,” she answered, glowing.
Her face was a little flush, her green eyes sparkled, and her smile was radiant and real. I was happy to see how muc
h she was enjoying every minute of being back in her group.
“Have you and Dad been having fun with Ann and Brad?” I asked.
“Morgan, I have missed them so much. Even your dad has been having a good time. I think he realizes how devoid our life is of anything social. Ann and I have laughed and laughed,” she said.
“I could have guessed that one. What’s Pat been doing?” I asked.
“Hanging out with his buddies from the old neighborhood. He’s happy to be back too,” she said.
“Mom it’s not back, it’s a visit,” I pointed out.
I hated being the reality check for the situation only being temporary.
“I know,” she said sadly. “Being here reminds me how much I miss my old life, almost as if I were another person then. Even your dad and I seemed happier in those days. All the people here have been such a large part of our life: the functions, the trips together. How could I not miss that?” she said mournfully.
“I know, Mom. Don’t think about it. Have fun, dance, stay up late, be bad,” I teased.
“I love you,” she smiled and hugged me. “Have you seen Mathew?”
“Not yet,” I said.
The minute I saw Mathew, I knew I was going to do exactly what Gayle had cautioned me against: let him in. I saw him from across the room and watched him as he moved amongst people, greeting and talking. He’d cut his hair shorter, but it was still blond. He was as tan, fit, and handsome as ever. I looked for a girl, a blond around him, but didn’t see one. I saw him toss his head back and laugh at something that was said and felt a tightening in my heart. When he finally turned and saw me, our eyes locked, and he walked directly towards me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he came across the room. When he got to me, I realized I was holding my breath. He grabbed me in a hug and spun me around.
“Mathew,” I half-heartedly protested.
He gave me his lazy sexy grin and I felt butterflies come alive inside me, as if they had been dormant, just waiting.
“Morgan, you look marvelous,” he said, putting me down.
I looked at his face and into his blue eyes. I’d looked into them so many times, on so many levels, and they sucked me in just as they always had. Oh, I’m in trouble. I became a little lightheaded, as my old feelings for him rushed at me like a fast moving storm. My thoughts jumped to Max, and I couldn’t conjure up my feelings for him, feelings I had been sure would prevent this from happening.
“Let’s get a table,” he said smiling.
I looked at his lips and then quickly away.
“Okay,” I managed to get out.
He took my hand, and I followed him to a table at the back of the room. My head was spinning. I felt emotions spread through me that shouldn’t be there. I remembered the desire, the way he could turn me on just by his look. I pictured him playing his guitar for me. He squeezed my hand and my heart leapt. I was going to have to be very careful.
“This one alright with you?” he asked pulling out a chair for me.
“It’s perfect,” I said, taking a seat.
He sat down in the chair next to me and pulled it closer to mine.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said smiling.
I ended up spending the entire reception with him. If I broke away for other hellos, he would be waiting for me. I realized careful was not in my Mathew vocabulary. We danced almost every song together, and when he took me in his arms for the first slow song, I felt the old fire with a vengeance. It was as if time had stood still where we were concerned, like it had been yesterday that we were together that summer we were eighteen, not years.
“Mathew,” I heard Mom say behind us.
We turned around, and Mathew gave her a hug, lifting her too off the floor. She let out a squeal.
“Patty, it’s so good to see you,” Mathew said.
He launched into questions about how she liked the new house, the people, about new friends; he told her how much Ann missed her. As I watched Mom talk with him, I could see the sadness creep into her eyes.
“She hates it, Mathew,” I said.
He stopped, his smile disappearing as he looked from her to me, his eyes uncertain, questioning. I cocked my head and frowned and he seemed to get it. He grinned at me and then turned back to my mom with a big smile; the one that could charm any woman.
“Well, in that case, let’s have a dance,” he said, taking her hand.
Walking away, he turned around and winked at me, and I mouthed thank you. Where I thought it would be awkward between us, it wasn’t. It was like the other times in our past, as if we hadn’t been apart. When he asked me to leave the reception with him, I already knew where it was going, where he hoped it would go. He drove to a nearby park, the one by our old elementary school, and we swung on the swings and talked. When he kissed me, it didn’t feel wrong, and the desire he’d always been able to evoke came back far too easily.
He took me downtown to the Hyatt and got us a room. I watched us almost from afar, knowing I shouldn’t be doing what I was about to do, but unable to stop it. Unable to ignore the emotion he brought forth. He said it was entirely up to me as to what would happen or not. He wasn’t fooling me, he knew his power over me, and he knew exactly what would happen. I called Gayle to tell her I wouldn’t be back, and she wasn’t overly surprised.
“I had a pretty big suspicion this might happen,” she said.
When we made love, it was with the intensity of old. He was all I could see. The guilt feelings I thought I should feel never surfaced. We spent the next few days and nights together, completely immersed in each other. It made me sad to have to leave him, and I dreaded going home. As I lay in Mathew’s arms, I tried to compare my love for him to my love for Max and realized there was none; they were completely different. On our last night together, I called Mom at the O’Conner’s to confirm details for the next day.
“Where are you?” she asked quickly after her initial hello.
“Why?”
“‘Cause I tried to reach you at Gayle’s. She told me you were with Mathew. Did you not go back to her place after the wedding?” she asked.
I thought about what her reaction would be, pictured her at the other end of the phone, the muddled expression on her face.
“Yes, to pick up my luggage. I’ve been with Mathew ever since,” I said honestly.
“Morgan!” she said sharply.
“I know, Mom, but I couldn’t help it. You know how it’s always been with him,” I defended.
These were the moments I knew that the distinction between being a friend and a mother were tough for her. A friend would ask for me to tell her the details and a mother should say what I had done was wrong. I heard her sigh.
“Yes, I do, like a moth to a flame,” she said with resignation.
I wanted to tell her everything, but I felt I should be somewhat cautious, not wanting to overwhelm her with my feelings.
“It’s been amazing Mom. I think I’d forgotten what real passion feels like, to have someone really want and desire me. Max doesn’t even act like he likes me half the time. So don’t Morgan me as if you would care if it ended with Max,” I said.
Max. I’d hardly given him a thought the last few days. Since the wedding, when I’d fallen back into Mathew’s arms, he was all I cared about. I knew it was selfish, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked.
Do? Was that even a legitimate question?
“I get one more glorious night with him, and then I fly home. It’s not like there’s really a choice between Mathew and Max. Mathew lives here. I have school there and on and on. We live five hundred miles apart,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she said sadly. “Sorry for all of us. Morgan, I understand maybe you don’t think there is a choice between Mathew and Max, but there is a choice. Love is not always easy to understand, but don’t settle where love is concerned. It matters, love I mean.”
I felt my throat
tighten and my eyes burn.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, wanting to cry.
“And don’t cry,” she said, reading my mind. “I was afraid he would pull at your heart. When I saw you two at the reception, I was sure of it. Morgan, I love Mathew. I’ve known him since he was a kid. He’s my best friend’s son, but he’s not for you, just like Max isn’t.”
The tears sprang into my eyes and I pushed on my eyelids to stop them.
“God, Mom, I hate it when you say shit like that. Like you already know the answer, but I don’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I was frustrated when I hung up the phone. I stayed at the kitchen table thinking about Max and what Mom had said. I tried to reach back in my memory and find a time when I had ever had feelings for him like I did for Mathew. I was attracted to Max and thought my feelings were love, maybe they still were, but nothing matched what I felt for Mathew. Mathew still had his magical hold on me as Gayle called it. Of late, it seemed like Max and I did more fighting than loving. Even the makeup sex had lost its luster. With Mathew, I got what I got; he wasn’t always kind, but he was honest. He didn’t try to hide who he was.
“What is that pretty little head of yours thinking?” Mathew asked, coming into the kitchen and bending to give me a kiss.
I lifted my face to him, thinking it would be a quick peck. Instead, he pulled me up from the chair and into him. He wrapped his arms around me, kissing me hungrily, his tongue teasing in my mouth. Then probing, rolling his tongue with mine, seeking. I instantly felt the tingling warmth spread between my legs, a feeling he easily generated with a kiss. I pressed my pelvis into him, and he lowered one hand cupping my ass, squeezing, keeping me pressed hard against him. He was freshly showered and smelled of Mathew, the light vanilla, lemon, whatever smell made him, him.
“Um,” I moaned.
I felt his other hand move under my T-shirt towards my breasts and the fire grew, spreading from between my legs into the pit of my stomach. Even with all the sex we’d had over the last few days, I wanted more. It seemed as if I could never get enough of him. He pulled away, giving me his sexy smile and took my hand, slowly, almost sauntering, he lead me down to his bedroom. I eagerly followed him, knowing what was about to happen.
