Enigma Rose: A Novel

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Enigma Rose: A Novel Page 12

by SE Reynolds


  I still think about those days with Melissa before I knew what she was capable of and who she really was. I never thought she would play me like she did everybody else. No wonder she was so good in her role. No denying, we did complement each other, and now I'm on my own, trying to continue the show without the leading lady. There are days when I think I can do it alone, but I know if I want to take my career to the next level, I need a partner. I need a new first lady. My conservative supporters will only put up with the lonely widower for so long, but then, the questions would start. "I'm surprised he hasn't remarried? I wonder if he's still grieving? Maybe there is something wrong with him." Meanwhile, my adversaries hope I stay single, become a player, and get caught fucking around with women in town. First Virginia, then hmm, maybe Misty, she has a sweet ass. It would be tempting but not conducive to the bigger plan.

  I enjoyed fucking Virginia the other night, and the steak, better than Ruth Chris. She is a pretty lady I'd like to continue fucking. Having sex with Virginia fulfilled my immediate needs, but when they were met, I was done. I wanted to getaway. I didn't need the comfort from her as I did with Melissa, and I certainly didn't want to linger on her body as I did with Rose. I just wanted to go, flee, get the hell out. Sadly, having sex with Virginia only makes me crave Rose more. Have I realized the difference between fucking someone and making love to someone? Sometimes I'm glad I haven't been able to find Rose. I'd rather remember my beautiful Rose as she was and not how she turned out. So, I guess I will reacquaint myself with the act of fucking and enjoy it for everything it is and accepting it for everything it's not.

  Chapter 23 – Virginia

  It's too early! Joshua is not supposed to be here until 6:30! It's only 6:00, and I'm still in my work clothes. I look through the peek hole and see Joshua holding a white paper bag. Dammit, Joshua! I don't have time to change; I don't have time to have a glass of wine or two to calm me down. I rush to the kitchen and pour half a glass of dry white, and gulp it down. I run to the powder room and ensure I have no boogers hanging out of my nose. No boogers, but my makeup is syncing into the lines underneath my eyes. I quickly wipe my smudges and open the door.

  "You're early."

  "I am?"

  "You said 6:30. It's 6:00."

  "I did?"

  "You did. Come in."

  "I'm sorry, Pretty Lady."

  I take a deep breath.

  "It's okay; I just didn't have a chance to change and…."

  "You look great, Virginia."

  I leave Joshua in the living room and retreat to the kitchen. I finish the wine in my glass, pour another, and take a beer out of the refrigerator. Joshua is where I left him, standing in the middle of the living room holding a bag of food. He looks adorable and boyish, standing there like he doesn't know what to do. I think he senses my frustration and is afraid to move.

  "Please sit down, Joshua."

  "Are you still mad at me? Sorry, I mixed up the time."

  "Did I sound mad?"

  "You sounded irritated."

  "I am. I didn't have time to get beautiful for you."

  "Pretty ladies like you do not have to try."

  "You are so full of shit, Joshua."

  We both laugh and sit down on the couch. I promised myself before Joshua arrived, I wasn't going to bring up what I saw the other day even though I was dying to know why he was walking down Main Street with Stacie Shewster. But after two glasses of wine, I start to break my promise.

  "I saw you walking down Main Street the other day."

  "You did? What day?"

  "Monday, I think it was? Yes, it was Monday. I just finished a 4:30 workout with Misty. Must have been around 5:30."

  "I'm in Old Town quite a bit. City hall is only a few blocks away."

  "Oh, right. I didn't think about that. Sometimes I forget you are our mayor."

  "You didn't know Fairview had a mayor, remember?"

  "Guilty," I say as I take a sip of wine.

  I want to continue the line of questioning but resist. I don't want him to think I'm some jealous accusatory bitch. I have to kiss him or else. I scoot closer towards him and kiss him lightly on his lips. I try to retreat to my side of the couch, but he won't let me. He kisses me deeply.

  "Do you want to go upstairs, Joshua?"

  "Yes," he says.

  I take his hand and lead him up the stairs to my bedroom. I stop myself before we descend the hallway to my room.

  "I didn't make my bed."

  "You naughty girl, you should be punished," he says.

  His threat turns me on. I pull him into my room and push him on the bed. I straddle him with my thighs. For a second, I see Harry's pathetic face, but I shake it off and unbutton my blouse and dramatically yank it off my arms. Suddenly I realize Joshua has never seen my breasts. I am always wearing a padded bra. What if he doesn't like them small, like mine? Like ripping off a band-aid, I unsnap my bra and fling it across the room. Joshua breathes heavier. He cups my breasts in his hands and squeezes them slightly. I want him to find my nipples, but he just holds them like lemons, pressing them to make sure they are ripe. I can feel the hardness through his pants. I unbutton them and search for his penis. And there it is; it is pronounced and easy to find. I pull it out and descend towards it, but he stops me.

  "You don't have to do that, Virginia," Joshua whispers.

  "I want to."

  "I want to be inside of you, Virginia."

  I want to feel him inside of me too, but I was hoping he would pleasure me with his tongue. Even a finger would suffice. But I don't want to say no; I don't want to ruin the mood. So, I lie down on the bed. He unbuttons my jeans and slides them off.

  "No panties?" he whispers.

  "Never," I respond.

  Joshua enters me, and, like the first time, I know I will feel the after-effects of sex without foreplay, but I don't care. It doesn't take long for Joshua to cum. I'm flattered he is so attracted to me that he can't hold back; it makes me feel closer to him than ever. I could stay in this bed with him all night. I put my head on his chest and listen to his breathing slow down. I want to linger in this moment, just linger.

  "Hungry?" he asks.

  "No, I'm not, not yet."

  "Boy, I am, Pretty Lady; let's get dressed."

  "Wait, please."

  I want to stay and drink him up. Once we go downstairs, we will drift into different corners and be formal and polite with each other; I don't want that. I want to share something with him now, so we can grow even closer. So, I decide that now is the perfect time to tell him why I left Harry.

  "I’ve only been in love once, and it was my ex-husband—"

  "Yes, I'm sorry things didn't last for you two, but you seem to get along okay.”

  “Yes, well I try very hard to get along for Robert’s sake, but still trying to deal."

  "Deal?"

  "Yes, deal with the aftermath of a divorce. The whole broken family thing."

  "Well, it sounds like Robert is adjusting just fine."

  "I guess. It's funny how easy it was to leave Harry. I was euphoric with my new sense of freedom. I loved going through my day without worry."

  "Worry?"

  "You know, worry about him, worry about what he was doing, what I would find, but slowly the euphoria dissipated, and sadness, pure sadness, would just engulf me. I'd be fine, then suddenly, this pain would develop at the pit of my stomach. I'd be at one of Robert's basketball games, and I'd see a group of people sitting together, you know, the unbroken families. They'd be huddled together on the bleachers cheering on their son, giving each other high fives when their kid made a great shot. Meanwhile, I'd be on the bleachers, and Harry would be on the other side of the gym leaning up against the wall. We would avoid eye contact except when Robert made one of his three-point shots; they called him the shooter, you know; he was really good. I'd glance over at Harry, and our eyes would meet for a second as we celebrated our son separately. No one could tell if we were together
or apart. We were just in the same place. That's when it would hit me. The loss, the same loss you must feel every day."

  "No, it's not like that for me."

  "Really?"

  "She's dead. Melissa is dead. I don't have to see her."

  "Well, I'm glad you're at peace, Joshua."

  "Yes, I guess so. Are you hungry yet?"

  "Not yet. There's something you should know, now that we are doing this."

  "This?"

  "Yes, we are intimate, and I think it's time I tell you more intimate things about me like why I left Harry. I never told anyone about this, not even Misty. I was too ashamed."

  "You don't have to tell me anything, Virginia. It's really none of my business."

  "Don't say that. It is now."

  Joshua sits up and rests his head against my headboard. I don’t want to look at him while I tell him, so I lean my head against his shoulder.

  "Okay, okay. I'm listening."

  "Harry's an addict."

  "Is he an alcoholic?"

  "I wish. I could've lived with that. Harry is addicted to porn."

  Joshua laughs as if I told a joke, he’s never heard before.

  "What? Are you serious, porn? Guys like porn, Virginia. I used to steal my dad's Playboy magazines as a kid and jerk off to them every chance I got."

  "It's not like that, Joshua. Harry didn't just look at naked women in a magazine on occasion, but maybe that's how it started. The first time I caught Harry was when I was pregnant with Robert. He was in the basement on the computer. I figured he was paying bills or catching up on the latest sports news. But when I got downstairs, there was this giant vagina on the computer screen, staring back at him. It was a close-up shot, lips spread open, vulva exposed, fingers inserted—"

  "I know what one looks like, Virginia, I get it."

  "Right, of course you do. Funny, but seeing him engrossed in a vagina didn't really bother me at the time. I was in my third trimester, and sex was just an uncomfortable chore I tried to put off every chance I got. I figured he needed an outlet, so I pretended I didn't see anything. I started picking up newspapters off the floor, keeping my eyes away from him and the computer. The second time there was no opportunity for me to turn a blind eye. Harry and I were upstairs watching a documentary about the Titanic on the Discovery Channel when suddenly, Robert yelled from the basement, 'Gross, Gross! Harry and I ran downstairs. I thought it was a centipede. They loved our basement. I must have forgotten to spray that toxic bug spray you get at the hardware store. It's the only thing that gets rid of them; anyway, when I got downstairs, Robert was still sitting at the computer, just staring at it all. At first, I couldn't make out what it was, moths, a pitted peach? Nope. It was a bunch of vaginas; a collage of them were filling my eleven-year-old's eyes. I remember Robert looking at me, panicking, trying to figure out what he just saw. He said he clicked on the mouse, and it all popped up. I told him it was a computer virus, and I frantically collapsed the pictures, trying to erase what my child just saw. Harry was behind me, not saying a word. When I turned to face him, he was just standing there, nervously rubbing his hands together. He knew I knew. Robert and I went back upstairs. I didn't say anything to Harry. I figured now that he knew I knew, he'd stop."

  "Or at least he would hide it better," Joshua says with a smirk on his face.

  "You would think, but I quickly realized addicts don't think. Their minds get cloudy and stupid when it comes to their drug of choice. One time, he left a thumb drive in the computer, and when I opened it, all these pictures of vaginas popped up one by one, just like the Brady Bunch. They were categorized by name: Wendy's, Morgan's, Jessica's. When Harry got home, I handed him a glass of wine with his thumb drive sunk to the bottom of it. He asked me why there was a thumb drive in the bottom of his wine glass. I didn't respond. I just walked away, thinking I got the point across in a dramatic fashion. I thought he would definitely stop after that."

  "It's just a bunch of pictures, Virginia. He had a thing for ladies' private parts. Maybe more than your average guy, but that was his thing. He would've gotten tired of it eventually."

  "Maybe, maybe he would’ve, but unfortunately, Joshua, I'm not finished. The straw that broke the camel’s back, or should I say camel toe, happened one morning when I was getting dressed for work. Robert had missed the bus, so Harry left early to take him to school. I heard the trash truck coming down our street and realized I forgot to take the cans out the night before. Harry and I stayed up too late polishing off a bottle of cabernet while watching a documentary on shark infestations along the Northern California Coast. We were both paying for it the next morning. Anyway, I grabbed Harry's bathrobe, threw it on, and rushed downstairs to the garage. As I was pushing the cans to the curb, the man on the back of the trash truck was smiling very intently at me. I looked down and saw my left breast peeking out from the side of the robe. I quickly covered myself. I was embarrassed, and it was chilly outside, so I put my hands in his pockets and hurried back to the house. I could feel a balled-up tissue in Harry's right pocket, and in the other pocket, I felt something very familiar to me, but I couldn't figure out what it was. So, I pulled it out. It was a Polaroid picture of Harry's foot nestled in a clean-shaven vagina."

  "A Polaroid? Wow, that's old school. Did Harry have a foot fetish? No wait, it would be the other way around. Sorry, just trying to make sense of everything. Are you sure it was Harry's foot?"

  "Yes, I’m certain it was Harry's. He has a heart-shaped freckle that sits right on top of his toe. I used to tell him if he got in a car accident that mutilated his face, I would be able to identify him by the heart-shaped freckle on his toe. Isn’t that ironic?”

  “Yea, I guess so. Damn that’s—”

  “Disgusting? Vulgar? Humiliating? Yes, it is. The worst part is knowing that my husband wasn't just a spectator, ejaculating in private to an anonymous vagina, but a participant who was sharing his cum with another woman”

  “What did you do, Virginia?”

  “Not much; I put the picture back in Harry's pocket, laid his robe back on the bed, and got dressed for work. A month later, I left Harry."

  Suddenly, Joshua gets out of bed and gets dressed.

  "Wow. I'm sorry you had to go through that, Virginia. That's a lot to digest. I mean, that's a lot for you to have to deal with."

  "I'm okay. I survived, and now here we are together overcoming things with each other."

  "Um, I’m not over coming anything, but glad you were able to confide in someone. I mean me. Maybe it will help you to move on...are you hungry?"

  "Oh, you must be starved, Joshua. I’ll meet you downstairs."

  Joshua leaves me in my bed. I look around my room feeling a shift in the air. Something has changed. The closeness I felt just moments ago with Joshua next to me is gone. I have to get it back. I get dressed and hurry downstairs. Joshua is taking the boxes of Chinese food out of the bag. I want to ask him how he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, what's next? But I remember Misty's words, desperate, needy women only turn men off. So, I allow the conversation for the rest of the night to be surface-level small talk in between chewing.

  Chapter 24 – Stacie

  I’m following Joshua on Facebook. He still has pictures of him and his wife together. I'm sure he doesn't have the heart to delete it. She is beautiful like an angel, like a piece of fluffy marshmallow. And there is poor JJ, looking awkward, standing next to his parents in front of a Christmas tree. They look so happy and so color-coordinated in green and red. JJ is such a mess without his mother; he needs that soft touch. Poor Joshua. I bet he tries so hard to fill the void, but how can anyone replace Melissa. She seems perfect, unlike Virginia. Virginia seems hard and is definitely rude. She is nothing like Melissa. Melissa is soft, almost whimsical-like. She looks like she should be walking in a field of dandelions in a white flowing dress, with a flute playing some enchanting tune in the background. Melissa is the epitome of Mother Earth.

  I know I could
never have a man like Joshua Steadman. Men like Joshua marry Melissa's and have sex with Virginia's. They are only friends with Stacie's. I can't stop thinking about the night at Ryan's. He was so nice to me and paid for my food and my beer. He opened the door for me and didn't let me walk back to my car alone. It was the perfect pretend date. I saw flyers posted around Main Street yesterday. Joshua will be speaking at Benny's this afternoon. The Dollar Store wants to lease the old, abandoned JC Murphy's building that is a mile outside of Old Town. Joshua wants to prevent it from happening. He doesn't want large commercial chains taking customers away from small businesses. I get it, but it's survival of the fittest. I bet JC Murphy's was a big chain, too, at one time. Besides, stores like the Dollar Store do not have the mark-up like the mom-and-pop shops in Old Town. A snickers bar costs twenty-five cents more at the Chocolate Hut than it does at the 7-Eleven. Believe me, I know. I'm not sure I agree with Joshua. Lower-income families can benefit from the low prices a dollar store provides. But the truth is, he could be talking about the evolution of a tick, and I would think it was sheer poetry. I will just casually walk in and act surprised when I see him. He won't be suspicious; he knows I am a regular at Benny's.

  Benny's isn't very crowded. I guess not everyone is as big a Joshua Steadman fan as I have recently become. Joshua is standing near the bathrooms, talking to a cameraman. He looks so handsome in a white dress shirt and red tie. His sleeves are rolled up like he is hard at work, working for our city. I want to tell the lady standing next to me that I personally know him, and he bought me two beers and a salad with salmon on top just last week. Instead, I stand in the doorway with a bewildered look on my face, pretending like I don't know what's about to happen. I can see Joshua surveying the sparse crowd. We finally make eye contact, so I wave. I can feel my heart in my throat as he makes the short walk towards me.

 

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