Starting Over
by
Charmaine Gordon
Starting Over
Copyright 2010 Charmaine Gordon
Published by: Vanilla Heart Publishing on Smashwords
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Chapter 1
She ran as fast as she could on the hard packed sand this early morning in February, still cold in St. Augustine, Florida. Cold and beautiful with the tide out and no one around. Almost always surefooted, not as steady since Larry died eight months before, Emily Kendrick stumbled and caught her balance. There was a sense of someone watching her, close to her, yet she ran into no one on the deserted beach. It was almost an everyday occurrence. Tears spilled down her face just as the hurdles set for the track team came up. Easy leap over the first one, the second knocked over by a careless foot. Emily fell and didn’t get up.
A lone runner sprinted through the waves and hurried to aid the fallen woman.
Binoculars slammed against the railing of the widow’s walk where two eyes had been watching the long-legged runner for months. From his well hidden perch high up on the mansion over-looking the Atlantic Ocean, under investigation the infamous Clifford Lansdale said, “She’s mine.” Fragments of the expensive binoculars lay at his feet.
“Are you all right?” the runner said.
Emily laughed and cried. “Oh sure. I never stumble like this and the kids will be coming down for practice soon. I’ve got to be on top of my game to train them.” She stood up, checked all her parts to make sure nothing was damaged and brushed off sand. “Thanks for stopping by. I’m Emily Kendrick.” She noticed the runner checking out all her parts too and shook her head. Guys. They just can’t help it.
“Patrick Corwin. What kids?”
“I coach the women’s track team at the college. We’re at the beach most days before the crowd.” She opened a thermos and offered tea. Patrick begged off.
“I run early before office hours. Have to get up to Jacksonville before morning rush.” He fished a business card from his running shorts. “Call me. I’d enjoy getting to know you better, Emily.”
Patrick left before she had a chance to say no. How could she ever go out with another man? Larry was the best husband in the world, her high school sweetie. Emily didn’t know how she was going to spend the rest of her life without him. Their children were grown up and married. They loved her but had their own lives to lead. “Go out, Mom,” Tommy said. “Have some fun. Dad wouldn’t want you to be alone.” Her daughter wasn’t eager for her to date. “Play Bridge, learn how to use the computer we bought you. I’ll have a baby for you to play with.” Emily hated card games, computers were scary, babies sounded wonderful but is that how life would be?
From sounds of a bus coming over the nearby dune, Emily knew the team had arrived. Time to work and work was the answer for now. After a grueling two hour work-out, the sweating pony-tail crowd waved goodbye to the coach and headed back to school. Emily pedaled her way up the beach to the lovely old house with the wrap-around porch purchased thirty years before when beach front property was affordable.
The mail and paper were dumped on a table purchased years before to accommodate a family of four, now too big for one person. She poured hot decaf coffee over one packet of sweetener and sighed as she sat down on the old captain’s chair. The rubber band slipped down easily and Emily sorted the mail, bills in one stack, discount coupons for cleaning, movies, and food in another. Ready to fling the pizza delivery flyer in the garbage, she reconsidered with a shrug of her shoulders and placed it in the second pile. A catalog for men’s clothes went flying, followed by one with seductive lingerie for sale. Emily retrieved it just in case she lived long enough to change her mind about dating.
She slowly made her way to the big mirror in the hall and looked at the gray roots, the few wrinkles, and shook her head. Emily Kendrick, femme fatale. A woman with grown children and no husband. At her age. Fifty something. Too scary.
The glass is half full. Got it? Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Time to take charge of your life. Yes, you’re a coach and phys ed teacher but it’s time to buckle down and learn a new skill like the dreaded computer. Everyone uses one. Why not me? Take a course and learn.
A quick call to the college and she learned that a beginner course in computers was starting in a few weeks. Before she could change her mind, Emily signed up, credit card information over the phone. Sashaying over to the dusty laptop computer box, she cleaned it off and said,”Hey pal, you and I are going to get acquainted.”
Unaware that the stalker had taken up his position in his hiding place, Emily made plans for the afternoon. Clifford Lansdale knew Emily Kendrick’s schedule.
After a quick lunch and shower, Emily biked over to the swim and tennis club where water aerobics classes were held. Her closest friends hung out there most afternoons.
Margaret treaded water and waved hello. Shelly was in the deep end beginning laps and Jesse sat in a lounge chair, clip board in hand, pen poised as she planned something wonderful from the look on her face. Emily plopped down next to Jesse. “What are you up to? You look like the cat that swallowed the proverbial canary.”
With a haughty expression, Jesse said, “I am planning a get-together right here at the swim club. It’s a membership drive so we’re going to have a luau theme, music, dancing, great food and people will stand in line to join. What do you think, Emily?”
“Terrific.” Emily dived in and swam laps with Shelly.
“Jesse told you about the membership drive party?”
“Uh huh.”
“Discount next year’s dues if you bring in new meat.”
“Nicely put.”
“What about that widower friend. Maybe he’d like to join.”
Emily thought about her old friend, Mark Wagner. She and Larry were best friends with Mark and Sally. When both Sally and Larry had died within a year of each other, Emily thought maybe she and Mark would get together. But no. They had one dinner and he never called. She hadn’t heard from him in months. She hoped he wouldn’t join the club. On the other hand, it might be an opportunity to get together.
She dried off and called his office.
“Lenore, this is Emily Kendrick. May I speak with Himself for a sec?” She envisioned Lenore frowning, then giving in.
“Hold please.”
Emily picked at her nail polish as she waited. Taking too long for Mark to respond was not a good sign.
A click and Lenore said, “Emily, I’m sorry but—”
“He said too busy. He said later. Right?”
“Right.”
“Thanks anyway.” Emily hung up.
She wallowed in self-pity for a while and returned to the pool.
Early the next morning, Emily was back on the beach. Running, running, running. Years of running. Waves lapped greedily at the shore as if they knew the time for tide in would come soon and they could pounce, white caps slap–slap as they rose higher and higher. Patrick Corwin raised a hand in greeting from a distance. Nice looking man, runner’s shape, lean and mean. And he was fast. Suddenly he was next to Emily, slowing down a bit to keep pace. How kind.
“You don’t have to slow down for me.”
“Want to.”
They ran in companionable silence. Out of the blue, Emily said, “If you’re free next Saturday night, would you like to go to a terrific party? It’s a membership drive for the swim and tennis club on the beach.” She babbled on. “It’s a friendly club. My family’s belonged there for a long time. There’ll be good food, good people, and I think, good conversation. I’ll meet you there. All you have to do is show up. It starts at seven Saturday night.”
She gave him the full batting-eyelash treatment. He agreed to go and ran off, a big smile on his face.
At home, she thought about what she’d accomplished on her own. She actually invited a guy to a party. Wow! She may not be one who balances a checkbook or calls the plumber or mechanic because there was more authority when a male voice called. Isn’t that what she was brought up to believe? All her friends believed that too. Well, there wasn’t a male voice in her household anymore so she better learn to make her own calls. But the headline today was Emily Kendrick had the guts to invite a man to a club to invite a man to a club party—no strings attached. Or were there
Chapter 2
Saturday, after two hours in and out of her closet trying on different outfits, she settled on a flowered long sleeved shirt tied at the waist, white silk pants, and sandals. Her sun streaked light brown hair was blown straight. Not easy being single. The mirror reflected an attractive, slim, energetic woman. The grieving widow was in disguise.
Emily drove to the club in her Jeep. Margaret hurried to greet Emily.
“The guy, the handsome lawyer, Patrick Corwin’s been asking for you. Yum. Where’d you meet him?”
“Running on the beach. Where is he?”
She pointed him out.
Taking a deep breath, Emily walked over, dressed in what she called civilian clothes, to say hello. Patrick looked mighty nice, all cleaned up. The phrase, clean him up and send him to my tent came to mind. A deep flush stained her tan cheeks.
“Hi, Patrick.” Smooth, Emily.
He held a paper plate topped with fresh shrimp on skewers.
“I love shrimp.”
“I love to share.”
So far, so good. The shrimp was tasty, Emily’s friends thought her new friend was also tasty and he not only was a runner but a good dancer. They danced. She hadn’t been in anyone’s arms but Larry’s in many years. New adventures. Patrick even joined the club. Discount membership for Emily. What an evening.
They sat outside for a while, Tiki torches fired up, the band let loose with Calypso music, waves pounded the shore, and stars were close enough to touch. A night meant for romance. Not for Emily without Larry or maybe there was a future on a night like this. She wondered as Patrick held her hand.
His blue eyes were sad. He pulled her close, not too close He smelled good. Seemed sincere. Tricky business, this man-woman thing at her age. Whom can you trust, she wondered. Trust me, his eyes pleaded.
“You are newly single”? She nodded. “Will it upset you if I explain some basic safety rules about being single?”
“No, go ahead,” she said and wondered why she felt like a dumb, helpless female.
And she didn’t mind his take-charge attitude. In fact, she kind of liked it. After Patrick’s safety lecture, they spent the rest of the evening playing what Emily called getting-to-know-you. She hadn’t done that since she was a teenager, but it all came back as if it were yesterday. Too soon it was time to say goodnight. Patrick said, “Do you have a cell phone?”
“Why do you ask?” A funny question from this intense man she’d been with for several hours.
He persisted. “Do you?”
“I forgot to charge the battery. It’s at home on the charger. Emily found her wrap, slipped it on, and turned to him. “If this is a test, did I fail?” She grinned.
He removed the tinniest cell phone she had ever seen from an inside pocket of his jacket, flipped it open, keyed in 911, and placed it in her hand. The musk scent of his after shave lotion distracted her.
“Emily, pay attention.” Startled, she did. “Hold this in your left hand as you drive. Be aware at all times of where you are, what street, what town.”
“Seems overly cautious to me. I’m driving straight home just a few blocks away.” Emily felt uneasy. Why was Patrick so protective of her? Already he was territorial about her. “I appreciate your advice, but I can’t —”
His finger touched her mouth. She tried to give the phone back but he shook his head.
“I’ll get it next time we meet.” His eyes never left hers. She broke eye contact first.
“I’ll call you soon.” She fumbled for her wrap and bag. “We’ll make a plan.”
Something about those blue eyes intrigued her.
He smiled and said, “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, you’ll call me. Soon.”
Patrick escorted her outside. He kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear. “Goodnight, my little sweetheart. See you on the beach”
When he breathed in her ear, she felt a tingle she’d missed since her husband died. A glow from the pleasant evening warmed her until she turned into her street and the good mood changed. Grief dragged at her spirit. It was always like that, coming home to an empty dark house. She must remember to leave some lights on. She wondered when the grief would stop haunting her, the way it showed up unexpected like an uninvited guest.
Chapter 3
Visions of lost power invaded his dreams. He thrashed and moaned, waking, skin damp with sweat, sheets in a tangle.
For years his wife had nagged him. “Did you take your pills? You know how you are when you don’t take your pills.” He was the boss around here. How dare anyone tell him what to do.
“Delusions of grandeur, my ass.” he said. “What’s this Bipolar shit they keep talking about?”
He listened to his zillion dollar house. Just the ocean to talk to. Good. And his lawyer. Soon. And the Judge. They said he was going down. Not if he could help it.
He jumped out of bed and swept everything off the dresser. Bottles went flying, pills tumbled through the air, framed pictures crashed, glass shattering everywhere. And he stood there not moving, amidst the chaos he created. A man of sixty years, hair askew. Still not bad. He sucked in his gut. “Got to meet that beauty before it’s too late. The runner on the beach, the man, looks familiar. Zoom in on him,” he said to himself.
Chapter 4
Emily undressed, careful to hang the party clothes in her walk-in closet. There was a dumb game she played, alone in her bedroom. How long could the widow avert her eyes from the empty closet next to hers. If she opened the door one more time and saw hangers without clothes, shoe racks without shoes, would she cry? She spent three hours in close conversation with a man tonight. Maybe it was time to move some of her belongings to the second closet. Claim it for her own.
Reaching into the shower, she turned on the faucet and waited for the water to run hot. Adjustments made, she stepped under the spray and poured shampoo on already clean hair.
“Idiot. What the hell are you doing?” she yelled out loud.
A rich lather formed from the excess shampoo. No need for soap tonight. As she washed body and hair, she thought about Patrick. Rewound their conversation and played it back in her head. As water rinsed off the foamy suds, she thought about Patrick again. Was he a man to be trusted? He was guarded about his background, revealing just enough for her to peek. His marriage wasn’t a happy one. He didn’t admit it to his credit but she added up the few comments and came to that conclusion. He was crazy about his newly married daughter. He was a lawyer involved in a big case right now. No reason to lie about any of those facts.
Her body felt different somehow. For months she’d felt dried up, afraid of crumbling to dust. The joyful moist feeling that was a big part of her marriage was gone. Meeting Patrick tonight offered some hope for a return to that happy state. His kiss, the breath in her ear warmed places she had almost forgotten about. Could there be orgasms in her future? She hoped so. She wasn’t naïve. She’d read about pleasuring herself in self-help books, but hey guys, it wasn’t the same. Nothing like the warmth of clean skin next to you. Turned her right on. Larry used to come to bed without taking a shower and she’d point to the bathroom. He’d hurry back still damp and—ooh baby. Reaching up to switch the showerhead to massage, she remembered that Larry’s hand was the last to use that adjustment. She stroked and patted the nozzle. How he loved the pounding needles of water. She whispered, “Larry, I miss you so much. We had good times in this shower.” Slowly Emily turned under the cascade, tears falling, hands soothing her skin, and felt alive with the possibility of a future.
Her stream of consciousness and the hot water gave out at the same time. Wrapped in a fluffy towel, she rubbed steam off the bathroom clock. Oh God. One in the morning already. Dry your hair and go to bed.
As Emily fell asleep, her last thought was, I’ll call him. Yes, I will.
Chapter 5
Patrick Corwin drove fast. He covered the ten miles to his condominium in five minutes. Brakes squealed, car door slammed, long strides and he was in his home, in the bedroom, jacket still on. Light snapped on in the closet, he got down on all fours, crawled to the back, and groped for a metal box. Heart hammering, he found the elusive key on his key chain and unlocked the box. Removing a journal, he unlocked it with another key, and lifted the pen inside the book. He sat on the floor of the organized closet filled with suits, shirts, shoes for every occasion, and clothes from school days he refused to part with, and wrote in his journal.
March 1st
Met THE woman tonight after a ten year search. I’m not good enough for her. Will try to protect her from harm for the rest of my life.
He reread the terse entry. Pen replaced, journal locked and set in the box, box locked and shoved into the depth of the closet. Can’t be too cautious. He crawled out, removed and hung up his clothes. Everything in place. Bed embraced his exhausted body in the indentation made by too many restless nights and too many secrets. Why did he ever take this case? He clutched a worn brown plaid quilt in his fist, burrowed in, and slept a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 6
“Emily, this better be important or you owe me big time,” Jesse said, with an early morning unused-as-yet voice.
Emily fidgeted on the bed. “Sorry. Were you guys sleeping or—oh shit. I interrupted something, didn’t I? What a jerk. Sorry. Please forgive me. I’ll give you my firstborn and—”
Muffling a laugh, Jesse whispered, “No, we just finished, he rolled off and is on his way downstairs to make coffee for the little woman. I was a good girl.” They giggled. “Why the hell are you calling so early and on a Sunday yet. You know we always do it on Sunday mornings even when Ken has golf or whatever.”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry. Listen to this. I met a man last night and I’m wearing a path through my carpet with the pacing back and forth. I can’t decide whether or not to call him today and I need advice from my best pal and—her line was busy so I called you.” Emily waited while Jesse laughed her head off. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re out of your mind. That’s for starters.”
“A simple yes or no will do. I don’t want a lecture.” Impatient, Emily jumped up and paced. “Come on.”
“Call him. Whatever I say, you’re going to call him anyway.” Kat hung up.
She said yes, she did. Great. Emily speed dialed back. “Once a week you do it?” and hung up, leaving an echo of laughter in Kat’s ear.
Time crept by as Emily stretched, went for the Sunday run, ate breakfast, watched the clock-still too early to call, tidied the kitchen and it was 10 a.m. The time was right. Apprehensive about being pushy, clammy with anticipation or maybe she just needed a shower, she dialed his number and hung up. Still uncertain, she pictured her single friend Lola in the same situation. Lola, every hair in place even when she painted, dressed to perfection. When they first became friends, she clued Emily in on certain rules. There were none. “See what you like and go after it,” she said. “If you don’t, someone else will. We’re talking women, honey, competition. More of us out there than men, so don’t waste time. Not like when you grew up”.
Inhaling a deep breath, Emily exhaled and dialed again. His business card looked worn from sweaty palms and too much handling in less than a day.
“Hi.” She cleared her throat. “It’s Emily. Remember me?”
“Remember you? I can’t get you out of my head. I want to see you. Now,” Patrick said.
Nice. Cheeks flushed at his words. “How about dinner tonight or should that be your line?” she said. Her body felt warm from head to toe. Beads of sweat formed across her forehead.
“How about dinner now?”
A sharp intake of breath, take it slow. Emily shook her head. “It’s morning, too early for dinner, isn’t it?” You’re giving him an opening that can’t be closed.
“Not for me. Directions to your home, please.”
She threw all caution away and told him. No turning back, Ms. Emily.
In a frenzy, amazed at her audacity, she changed the sheets, and paid attention to herself. What to wear? Dress like a slut? That’s how you feel. No. Be yourself. What am I? I don’t know. Her body aglow with anticipation, she was out of control.
A quick shower, perfume applied in all the right places, makeup on. She moved close to the mirror. No blush needed today, cheeks rosy. Finger-combed ash brown hair, sun streaks blended with gray. She slipped into a lacy black pushup bra and panty set–oh Emily it’s eleven in the morning– skinny jeans and a silk burgundy sweater. No. She changed into comfortable undies, shorts and a pullover sweater. Take it slow, you fool. No matter what he wants, you’re the boss.
The door bell rang. A final glance in the mirror and ready or not, she flew down the stairs. Ms. Hard-to-get. She paused to catch her breath and with an attempt at poise, she opened the door.
Patrick, even better looking by day–more rugged, was dressed much like her. He kissed her cheek and asked her to show him around her to old beach house. Calming down, Emily gave him a royal tour of the charming home with a great ocean view.
“Nice,” he said. “I’ve never owned a home. I, uh, grew up in the Midwest and we moved around a lot. When I was married, well—it was only a short time.”
She took his hand and led him upstairs.
“Beautiful,” he said, looking at her. He gestured to the empty closet. “This was your husband’s closet.”
“Yes.”
“Looks comfortable,” he said, sitting on the chaise lounge she used for reading in comfort, his dark masculinity a sharp contrast to the feminine pastel fabric. “This is a wonderful home. Excuse me for saying this but I feel your husband wants you to be fulfilled, to have pleasure.”
“How do you know?” Emily said, surprised at the turn of conversation.
“If I were him, that’s what I’d want.” Patrick rose and took her hand. “Let’s go to the Conch House for lunch.”
At some point during lunch, Patrick leaned forward and said, “Trust me. I promise I will never hurt you.”
Chapter 7
The Conch House, overlooking the waterway, was a well known restaurant. As natives of the area, Emily and her family had dined there many times over the years. Greeted warmly by Susan, the hostess of the afternoon, they were seated outside under a canopy.
“How long have you been here?” said Patrick.
“I grew up close by. And how long have you been here? I never saw you before the day you came to my rescue.”
He smiled. “Not too long. I live in a condo about twenty miles north of town. I’m a lawyer working on one case right now. Complicated. What’s good?” he said, referring to the menu.
He’d changed the subject. Emily guessed it was too confidential. “I told you I love shrimp so anything with shrimp.”
They ordered shrimp salad and iced tea, a typical light lunch for Emily.
The sea breeze caressed her cheeks; the sun peeked in and out of billowing white clouds enough not to burn. Something about sunshine on her body stirred sleeping pheromones. She felt Patrick’s eyes on her.
“What?” she said.
“I’d love to kiss you right now.”
The waiter brought lunch just as Emily was about to respond and the moment passed.
“Tell me about yourself.” Emily said, after the waiter left.
He tasted the shrimp, murmured that it was fine, and thought. “Okay. Born and raised in the mid west, speak a bunch of languages, married a young woman who died in Israel when I worked there. One daughter married. I raised her with help from close —friends. Case closed.” He flashed a grin. “Your turn.”
“Oh. My life has been more mundane. Married forever to my high school sweetie who died not long ago, raised two children both married. I coach track and work as phys ed teacher at the college and am about to learn computer skills just because it’s a challenge.”
As they left the restaurant, Emily realized her first date was more than pleasant. She’d like to see Patrick again and from the glances he gave her throughout lunch, he’d like to see more of her. Her cheeks flushed red. How much more of her would be revealed before too soon. She had no idea how romances proceeded in this time so different from the ‘olden days’ when most girls were virgins before marriage. One step at a time and always remember, you’re the boss when it comes to matters of the heart—and body.
Patrick was way ahead of her.
“What are you blushing about, Emily? Are you wondering what comes next?”
They both laughed and it was fun to bring the big question out in the open.
“Caught in the act. I’m new at this dating thing, as you know, so?”
“We’ll go slow and see how we fit together.”
That brought another burst of laughter and the afternoon came to a close.
Chapter 8
Eyes burned through the zoom on the binoculars.”Son of a bitch. It’s him, Patrick Corwin. Traitor. My own lawyer hired to serve and protect me. Kissing my Goddess. What else is he doing to her? Son of a bitch.” Binoculars smashed again and again chipping the railing of the widow’s walk. He wanted to crush the traitor’s throat with his bare hands, feel him gasp for breath, watch life fade from his clever lawyer’s eyes.”Not yet. I need his expertise to clear my good name.” Clifford Lansdale laughed and drank another cup of black coffee.
Chapter 9
Tide came in earlier these mornings but the couple on the beach stopped running and stood entwined in the swirling water as romance grew. Soon passion could not be denied. Patrick pressed his tightening groin to Emily’s heat.
“I can’t run another step,” he said.”How about you?”
Eyes closed, she caught her breath.”I have to teach soon. Later? Come over for, uh, dinner?”
“Okay. One more kiss?”
Emily shook her head no.”I hear the bus. See you later.”
An attempt at dinner failed. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. The gentlemanly Patrick almost tore off her shirt and when he saw her bra, he said,”I love lace,” and traced her nipples through the delicate fabric until she unhooked and let him taste the tender tips. Then the white shorts were peeled down and Emily stepped out revealing matching lace panties. Patrick slowly dropped down to his knees and whispered,”Ah, the main course.” The lovers giggled and soon Emily gasped as he dipped his tongue in the sweetest spot of all.”Hold onto my shoulders, Sweetheart.”
Pat was naked next to her, inside her too soon because they couldn’t wait a moment longer and so it went. Crying out her name, Patrick shuddered and Emily joined him in a crescendo of sexual love. The joyful tingle and release over and over again like honeymooners at last lulled them to sleep.
Hours later, Emily cried out.
“It’s me, Emily. Don’t be afraid. I have to leave and couldn’t resist one last hug.”
The room was dark. The last thing she remembered was having the best orgasms ever followed by kisses and loves and now he was dressed and ready to go and she’d be alone again. Somehow she never thought about the end of the evening. She wondered if he left money on the dresser. Like, thanks for a swell time, lady. Maybe he’d call some other time at his convenience. She felt cheap, a tramp, an easy woman. Naked under the blanket and he’s dressed in leathers. God.
Soft kisses on her cheek. “Be gone all week on business but I’ll try to call every day, if that’s okay with you.” Caresses under the blanket.”You’ll be in my thoughts, little sweetheart.”
She felt his weight on the bed, the warmth of him nearby. The scent of her shampoo rose from his hair, vanilla body wash lingered on his skin, evidence he’d showered while she slept. How did he know she loved clean skin? In response, she arched her back to get closer, to press against him. She couldn’t help it. Hormones long asleep were awake wanting more, like a teenager.
“Give me your face, your mouth,” she said and thrust her tongue deep, round and round, in and out the way he did when he was on top in her center.
His breathing grew rapid, matching hers. She heard zippers unzip, boots kicked off, and they were joined a moment later. So good. Oh yes. So randy, it didn’t take long to finish. Now he had to leave. She knew he’d come back.
As he dressed again, he said,”You need more secure locks on the doors, front and back, until an alarm system is installed.”
Was this his concept of post-coital conversation? Emily sat up and knocked on his back.”Hello. What are you talking about?”
A tug on each boot, he stood ready to leave.”I want to protect you, dearest Emily,” and headed for the door.
“From what? I’ve been here thirty years, same house, same locks, and always felt safe.”
Patrick covered the distance to the bed in a few long strides and crushed her to him.”Emily, these are different times now. The days of leaving doors open are over. The days of trusting strangers are over. Now that I’ve found you, I promise not to let anything bad happen to you. Ever.”
“Oh Pat. I’m touched by what you say but I’m not a delicate flower. I’ll be careful.” Of what, she didn’t know.
“Please let me call a friend of mine. Pete O’Malley. He’ll change the locks, put the best ones on-dead bolts-chains-peepholes, whatever I order, and he’ll do it while I’m away.” She shook her head.”Do it for me then. For my peace of mind.”
Pat lifted her chin. She saw the intense look in his eyes as he kissed all objections away. A few minutes later, his motorcycle roared into the night. Emily hoped it didn’t wake the neighbors. She rolled over and slept.
The next morning, Monday already? Whatever happened to Sunday? She blushed at that thought. Coffee pot plugged in, toast down, apple cut up, vitamins in a row; she needed them today after the geriatric gymnastics of the day before. With Patrick out of sight, Emily had misgivings about her behavior. Was she a slut, sleeping with this guy so soon? What happened to all the love she had for Larry? Was there room for a beginning with another man? Plagued with doubts, at the same time she felt so alive. A paradox. But she didn’t feel lonely anymore and he talked as if they had a future.
She nibbled at breakfast while making notes. No school today so she didn’t have to rush. It helped to write thoughts down and use them for reference.
1. Pat is a take-charge guy.
2. Easy to fall into old patterns with him.
3. Make sure he doesn’t take charge of me. He has the dynamics to inhale a little woman like me. Don’t disappear just as I’m getting ready to emerge.
4. Goals: learn computer skills
5. Do not lose sight of the above but if I do momentarily, be forgiving—old habits are hard to break. Two steps forward, maybe one step back for a while.
Emily read and reread the list. Her own plan.
Security locks made sense. That was Patrick’s idea. Go with it. If Pete O’Malley called, the job was his but it was her expense not Pat’s. No way. The phone rang. Pat, a man of his word, did not waste time. Larry had such a laid back personality, tomorrow was good enough or next week. Not this new man. Oh no. Well she grinned, it’s a challenge.
As promised, Pat called every day at different times; morning, afternoon, night, she never knew when. She wondered if it was a subtle way of checking up on her whereabouts. Emily enjoyed the chats, the heavy breathing when they recalled their night of intimacy, although she didn’t wait by the phone praying for a call. They made a date for his return Saturday night. When she hung up, her pulse raced in anticipation. Today was Thursday. What’ll I put on? The question is what’ll I take off? Oh Lordy. Too much fun.
After Mr. O’Malley installed the locks followed by a short safety lecture and a few Irish jokes, she paid him against many ‘no you don’t’ and ‘Pat won’t be happy’.
The bedroom was scented with sex and vanilla candles burned low. Their bodies intermingled, contented and satiated. Emily played with his chest hair, a finger circled around his nipples.
“Keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll be ready again.” She had the ability to thrill him. Emily, the seductress, drunk with power.”Pat, I feel like we both got a great deal on a used car. What do you think about that?”
Pat pulled her close to him.”I love you, Emily.” The L word. He said the L word. And he didn’t ask her to say she loved him.
“Do you want to know how I feel about you?” she said.
“Only if you want to tell me. Do you realize that we met two weeks ago?” A lazy half smile from Pat.”I was Larry’s girlfriend for five years before we were intimate and that was after the wedding.”
He stretched a hand out to brush away strands of hair that had fallen over her face. She sat up suddenly, grabbed a corner of the blanket to cover herself, and moved away from him.
“I meet you, we say hello and wham, and we’re in bed. Repeatedly.”
“What are you saying, Emily?” His erection faded.
“That’s not like me. I’ve always been cautious about choosing friends, about allowing people to get close, and look at me. I’m naked —”
“I can see that.” The smile frozen in place,
“— with a man I just met and I don’t know what it means?”
“What do you want it to mean?”
She lay down next to him and sighed. The candle flame sputtered and died. A thin trail of smoke rose up and disappeared.
“I guess it means I love you too.” There. It was out in the open.
He exhaled breath he didn’t know he was holding, the wall of hidden emotions gave way to tears. His face dug into the pillow.
Emily was astonished. Tough, in-control Pat cried.”What is it?” She ran hands down his back, smoothed his hair.
“You love me. Words I prayed for and you said them. Thank you, Emily. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been because of you.”
He turned over, they held each other, she felt him relax and doze. What a huge responsibility this love business. She never dreamed relationships were so complicated. She wanted him to be happy and thought they could have a good life together. One step at a time, old girl. You’re not alone anymore. The L word has spoken.
Emily woke up first, in a talkative mood. Their relationship had reached a new plateau. At close-to-sixty who had time for a long courtship? She might have preferred another week or two, a month even, but at this pace there was no stopping Pat.
“Let’s do lots of stuff together.” She poked him to wake up.
“We already do,” he mumbled, half asleep.
“Not just running and taking off all our clothes, you goof.”
“What’s the matter with that? I thought you loved running and getting naked as much as I do.”
“I do, but there’s other stuff we can do together with our clothes on.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?” He groaned. She was too energetic for him at the moment. He needed strong coffee to jump start his heart in the morning, let alone have an animated conversation.
“Like join the swim team,” she announced in a strong tone that rang an alert.”I love competition.”
“I don’t have time, not now—”
“Not to worry, this is a future plan. As long as you promise.” she ran fingers down his chest, he watched them disappear under the blanket.
He grabbed her hand, held it still and ran the other hand through sleep tossed hair, resigned to the fact that she was up, therefore he had to wake up, and it began to feel as though the rest of him was already up.
“Ms. Emily?”
“Hmmm?”
“I do love waking up with you.”
She gave him the big Emily smile.”So where were we?”
“Hey, don’t stop.”
All innocence.”But we were in the middle of a serious discussion and I—”
Warm skin, not fresh from a shower but okay for now, one leg, then the other, as he maneuvered into position, smooth talking all the while, “Okay, I’ll join the swim team when I can if you agree to learn martial arts. Next to being with you,” he slid inside her moist center eager for him,”inside of you,” he lifted up, then down,”that’s one of my favorite things.” Up and now deeper.
Breathless, said,”What?” What the hell was he talking about? She’d ask later.
Later Emily said,”What?”
“Martial arts. It’s great for balance, health, harmony and protection.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can. You do it every day in running. This is more and even better. I learned as a young kid. Is that a deal?”
She had to think it over. Did she really want to learn how or would she revert to the old habit of capitulation to keep the peace? She was an expert at that.
Emily wasn’t surprised to hear her voice say,”Okay. It’s a deal.”
You’re biting off more than you can chew this time. Two steps forward. One step back.
“Deal.”
Emily knew she had a satisfied man.
Chapter 10
Preoccupied with the sexual haze she was in, Emily hadn’t told her daughter about the new man in her life. This time Emily had so much to tell but not to Meg. Not to anyone, except maybe Lola, her only single friend. A careful editing was called for. Meg encouraged her mother to go out, have fun but not this much fun.
In the midst of polishing the dining room table, why was she doing such a homely chore—who cared if the table had a shine to it?–the phone rang. She picked up the portable and continued her task. The wood was old and soaked up the polish.
“Mom,” Meg’s worried voice said,”I haven’t talked to you all week. Even longer. Where’ve you been? Are you okay?”
“Yes, dear, I’m more than okay. I met a very nice man at the uh, club membership party and I’ve seen quite a lot of him since.” Saw him with and without his clothes more than once, oh yes. Her face flushed with thoughts of how exciting this romance was.
Good thing Meg wasn’t there to get a good look at her. She’d guess in a minute what her mother was up to. Funny how kids think their parents are asexual. Do they really believe that once parents conceive them, they never have sex again?
“Mom, please be very careful with this man. I want to meet him before you go any further. Do you know what I mean?”
Emily smothered a laugh.”I hear you, honey. Thanks for your concern, but remember I am a grown up lady and I have good taste. After all, I married your Dad. And of course I want you and Jake to meet him soon. He’ll be traveling for a couple of weeks but we’ll get together.”
“Okay, Mom. I’m going to call Tom. We worry about you all the time. Tom calls at least once a week from wherever he happens to be... He says, in that big brother deep voice he uses with me, it’s my job to keep an eye on you. That puts a lot of pressure on me, Mom.” No matter how old kids get, they still whine about each other, telling tales to Mom. It never ends, thought Emily.”Tom will want to meet this guy, too,” she continued.”What’s his name?”
“Patrick Corwin. He’s a lawyer and a runner.”
Emily laughed as she listened to her daughter, now a teacher at The School for Hearing. Parents trusted her to watch over their kids. She pictured Meg and Tom with their heads together, up to no good when they were little. Now she was married to a sweet young man Jake, in his own contracting business, and Tom had recently married Julie, but brother and sister remained close.
“You’ll like Patrick a lot. I’ll call tomorrow and we’ll make a plan. ‘Bye, honey.”
“Wait Mom. I forgot to ask about the computer. Did you take it out of the box yet? Did you sign up for a class?”
“I signed up for Introduction to Computers. First class is tonight. Gotta run”
“Great. Bye, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She didn’t mention the letter from Mark Wagner received today. Too late for you, Mark. Her heartbeat quickened when she saw the letterhead, the familiar watermarked linen stationery Mark and Sally used for years, an embossed gold C at the top. His handwriting was perfect, each letter formed according to the cursive writing book.
“Dear Emily, I hope you can forgive this old friend for poor behavior these past months. I have been wallowing in depression for our losses and am just coming out of it. Please say yes to dinner or lunch or whatever as long as we have a bit of private time. Call me. I promise to return your call. Mark”
She would call and meet with him but their opportunity for more than that was over now that Pat was in the picture, in her bed.
A couple of swipes with the polish cloth and the table sparkled from her effort. Lemon fragrance clung to her skin reminding Emily of all the years of role as the nurturer, the homemaker, a job she used to revel in. The smile faded when she caught her reflection in the table. She looked like Wifey. What became of the resolution to take charge of her life, not to depend on a guy?
Yet here she was with another strong man, even stronger than her husband and for a moment she almost forgot plans to grow up. Take small steps and don’t lose yourself. She threw the cloth across the floor and ran upstairs to change. Emily Kendrick was going to school.
Chapter 11
Emily drove through town toward the college where she taught. A comfortable feeling. Before raising the car window, she inhaled a deep breath of warm Spring air. 6:30 p.m., still light out, what a pleasure after the darker nights of northern Florida in the winter. Not so chilly since after meeting Pat a few weeks ago, she thought and smiled. Hot as a matter of fact.
She could have parked in faculty parking but this seemed closer to Computer Science. Physical Education section was her domain. Kids careened around the parking lot in a frantic search for an elusive space. In an unaccustomed aggressive move, Emily beat someone into place and the guy gave her the finger. She jumped out, slammed the car door and yelled at him. “You’re rude, Mister. Would you like someone doing that to your mother?”
He backed up the electric blue convertible until he was close enough to touch and looked her up and down, an insolent grin on his adolescent face. “Nice move, Lady. Nobody beats me out in the parking lot. You new here?”
Times sure have changed, she thought. “I am not talking to you until you apologize. That was disgusting.” Emily retrieved her handbag, bottled water, and spiral notebook purchased for the class, and turned toward the maze of buildings, mystified as to what direction to take. She didn’t know this part of the campus. “Where is,” she consulted the admission sheet, “Academic 1?”
He laughed. “Thought you weren’t going to talk to me—”
“Come on. Help me out here. I don’t want to be late.”
“Okay.” He pointed straight ahead. “Stay to the right. The first building is #1.”
Calling thanks over her shoulder as she ran, she said, “You still owe me an apology.”
“I’ll walk you to your car after class, okay? Sorry about the finger thing.”
The path was crowded with kids; baseball caps worn backwards, jackets open, girls with belly buttons on display–didn’t they know it looked ridiculous and indecent–this wasn’t the beach for God’s sake– guys in stupid ill-fitting pants. In the distance, Emily spied some gray heads and hurried to catch up.
Breathless she said, “Computers?”
“Walk this way,” they said and chuckled. They were both using walkers.
Emily admired their sense of humor. Her problems were small by comparison. Into a red brick building they went, followed signs to the room number, entered and sat in the few remaining seats. At a glance, Emily counted about twenty five people, all adults, and a lot of gray hair. The big clock showed seven.
School. Emily couldn’t believe it. The desks were larger than she remembered but they had to be to accommodate the soon-not-to-be dreaded computers. As a physical education teacher, she was in the gym most of the time. So few desks were needed, ever. The smell was different. Gone the scent of erasers and chalk. Right. Gone with the horse and buggy. She bet all her fellow students remembered the smell of chalk.
An impossibly young man stood behind a computer desk facing the class. He slid small glasses up the bridge of his nose and began talking rapidly and too soft for Emily to hear. All she made out was his name, Leonard something. After that nothing. She raised her hand. He ignored her. She called out.
“Leonard. I’m Emily Kendrick. I don’t know about the rest of the class but I can’t follow what you’re saying.” She spoke slowly and louder than usual in order for her voice to carry to the back of the room. “Does anyone agree with me?” A bunch of nods and yes’s from the class.
He looked around, shrugged his shoulders and started again. This time his voice was stronger and slower. The class rewarded him with applause. He grinned, pleased with himself, and began a lecture on the history of computers and how they worked.
Emily fidgeted for a few minutes. She wondered if anyone else was bored. One woman doodled on a notebook; another student seemed to be balancing a checkbook... Her generation was too polite in the face of authority, in this case, a young teacher. Since no one objected to the subject matter, she decided to speak up again. “Excuse me.”
Startled by the interruption, he acknowledged her. “Yes?”
“I don’t know about the rest of the class, but I enrolled to learn how to turn on the computer, how to send e mail and use the Internet. History and how it works doesn’t hold interest for me right now. I’m getting older by the minute and I can’t wait to begin using this contraption without being afraid of it.”
To Emily’s surprise and Leonard’s consternation, the group applauded. They agreed with her.
“Okay kids,” he began again, a smattering of laughter from the class, “who knows what a desktop is?”
Everyone was puzzled by what appeared to be a dumb question. A few of the seniors hit the tops of the desks in response.
“Hey,” said the man with the walker, “Don’t you make fun of us. Someday our grandkids will be making fun of you.”
Leonard apologized. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
His attitude changed as he had them ‘boot up’ and there was the desktop display. From then on, instruction was to the point, questions flew, gnarled fingers played hunt and peck at keys and two hours went by in a flash. The next class was in two days and the assignment was to get a good Internet connection and an Email address.
Seniors zipped up jackets helping each other when needed as they headed out of the building into the chilly night air. Some of them stopped to point out the brilliance of stars in the cloudless sky. Tall light poles showed the way to the parking lot. Emily ran back to the room for her water bottle and was last to leave. She flung open the door, looking for someone to walk with and bumped into the young man from the parking lot. The one who gave her the finger. The bottle went flying. He scrambled after it. The same grin was on his face as he used his jacket to wipe the bottle. He was much younger than she thought at first glance.
“You. What are you doing here? Aren’t you a bit young to be in college?”
“No thanks?” he said, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.
“No sorry?” she said. “Thanks for the water.”
“Sorry for the bird. Sometimes I feel like I have to act tough. Dumb.”
They laughed.
“This is silly. Really, what are you doing here and pardon me for being nosy but how old are you?”
He ignored the question. “Finished class, ran over to walk you to your car. In case you didn’t notice, it’s dark outside. If you were my mom, I’d want someone to watch out for you.”
Emily felt a rush of pleasure from the young man. “You remind me of my son, Tom. He’s older than you, a lot older, but this is something he’d do. What are you, fifteen, sixteen?”
She couldn’t wait to tell Pat about this kid when he called later from wherever he was. “I’m Emily Kendrick. I’m the track coach here.”
“Erle Lim. Friends call me the Geek as in computer geek.” He paused, made a quick decision by the look on his hairless face. “Promise not to tell anyone—” and waited as she gave the Girl Scout salute. “Sixteen. I’m almost through with high school and I get my associate degree here next month and then I have a full scholarship to UCLA.” He came up for air.
“Yeah. An over-achiever. Now I have to hurry home because I don’t have my senior drivers’ license and driving after nine is a no-no.”
They walked down the path, chatting as if they’d known each other for a long time.
Erle asked her what she learned in class and Emily told him about the homework assignment.
“My computer is still in a dust covered unopened box. After two hours with Brian, I have a vague idea of how to get started.”
Keys in hand, Emily approached her car. Erle said, “When’s your next class?”
“Two days.”
“I can come over after school tomorrow. Take me about thirty minutes to set up.”
She dropped her stuff in the car. “Really? You’d do that for me?”
“No sweat. Where is your son right now?”
She had to think for a minute. “Upstate New York. Why?”
“He’s not around to help you, so I will. Someday, if I’m out of town and my mom needs help she can call him. Deal?”
She hugged him. “Deal. You are a sweetie, Erle.” Emily wrote her phone number and address on paper from the spiral notebook, ripped it out and gave it to him. “I’ll have milk and cookies ready for you. Three o’clock good?”
“More like four. Chocolate chip, please.”
Emily drove off. Her life was on track with a new man in her life, a new skill to be learned, in control with one step at a time.
Coming home wasn’t as traumatic as it had been before meeting Pat. Comfortable in bed after a hot shower, a romance novel next to the lamp, Emily settled in and hoped Pat called before she fell asleep. The phone rang as she placed a marker in the book. A now familiar heat rose in her center in anticipation of hearing his deep voice. “Hi. I was about to turn out the lights.”
“Hello my love. How was your day? Did you do anything special today?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. I started school.” Emily giggled. Sometimes he made her feel as if she were a little girl.
“School?”
She realized he had forgotten she was enrolled in a computer class. Well, why not, she rationalized. It wasn’t important to him that she expand her skills. His business was much more important. She wouldn’t make an issue of it. “Computer class. It started tonight and it was terrific and the best thing about it was that I met a young kid who’s coming over tomorrow to set up my computer. He’ll hook me up with the Internet and Email and…”
Pat broke in. “Don’t let a stranger in your home while you’re alone.”
“Calm down, Pat.” Heat had flown replaced with explanation. “He’s a computer whiz who offered help and I accepted. Case closed, counselor.”
“What does he expect from you in return for his generous offer of help, dear Emily?” Sarcasm dripped from every word.
She didn’t like him right now.
“Chocolate chip cookies and milk. He’s sixteen. I don’t think he shaves yet. And I don’t like you telling me what to do.”
“Sorry. My experience is that you shouldn’t trust anyone. Let’s talk about the martial arts class sooner than later. I’ll be home Friday night. I love you.” He hung up.
So much for an easy relationship. Emily hit the light and shut her eyes. After the peculiar conversation, sleep was elusive. She didn’t even know where Pat was calling from and yet he wanted to know every little thing she did. Why? What was the big deal?
Four o’clock the next day, the doorbell rang. As promised, Erle Lim was at the door, stuffed backpack slung over a shoulder. Straight black hair mussed by strong wind, he wore a pressed white shirt with a tie and neat chino pants. A big grin creased his face as Emily opened the door.
“Come on in and don’t you look nice. Did you have an interview or something special today?”
“You’re what’s special, Ms. Emily. And this is a business call.” He swaggered in, sniffed the air like a puppy when he caught the chocolate scent, played it cool as he looked for the computer. She directed him to the small office next to the kitchen.
Emily knew she was in the presence of a young Alpha male. She had cleared what used to be Larry’s catch-all desk and polished the top. Again with the polish. There was room for the computer on the gleaming surface, a printer filled with copier paper in the tray, a phone, assorted pens, pencils, and note pads. Everything she’d need for whatever she chose to do. At this point, she didn’t have a clue.
“Nice. I like how you arranged stuff,” he said as busy hands rearranged the desk. “To work.” Bag on floor, leg flung over a chair, he was at home.
She dragged a kitchen chair in and sat behind him. “Mind if I watch?”
He grunted as fingers flew, pictures appeared on the screen, desktop info showed up.
“You like munchkins?”
“What?” Emily watched, fascinated as a parade of munchkins from the Wizard of Oz decorated the screen. “What is that?”
“Screensaver. You like?”
“Well, okay. It’s funny. I always say, if it makes you laugh, keep it.”
“Cool.” Erle clicked a few more times and grabbed the phone. Using an authoritative deep voice, he spoke to someone and over his shoulder said, “Pick a user name and a password. First name that comes to mind. Don’t censor yourself.”
“Emily. That’s a user name. And uh, runners. Password.” Her cheeks warmed from excitement and the pressure of keeping up with this whirlwind. “Did I do good?”
“Call waiting. Do you want it?”
“Like on the phone?”
“Yeah, but instead of the phone ringing forever when you’re on the Internet, a screen pops up and tells you who’s calling. You want it?”
Emily thought for a second. She didn’t want to spend extra money. “Is it extra dollars?”
“No. Trust me, Ms. Emily. It’s cool.” He hung up the phone, stood up, stretched and straightened his tie. “Your turn.” He gestured to the chair. “You sit, take notes, hands on the computer, and then it’s chocolate chip cookies and milk for the teacher. I have a seven o’clock class at the college.”