A New Kind of Bliss (8 page)

It was still light out when we emerged from the restaurant into the hotel lobby, courtesy of it being close to the summer solstice. When we returned to our room Aaron remarked, “I probably should change and go down to the exercise room for a quick workout, but I’m going to take the loutish way out.” He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on his back on one side of the king-sized bed, one arm folded behind his head, the other channel-surfing with the remote. I went to wash the make-up off my face and to take off those killer heels, which looked sexy but were hell to walk in. I saw no reason to stand on ceremony. In fact, this might be a good way for things to progress naturally. I’d eaten only a bowl of chowder and a Cobb salad with crabmeat, shrimp, and scallops, but my belly felt almost uncomfortably full. “You look awfully comfortable,” I said. “Mind if I join you?”

He patted the empty space beside him. “There’s plenty of room.”

I climbed onto the bed and lay down close to him. His arm automatically went around my shoulder.

“Anything good on?” I asked.

“This spy thriller on pay-per-view doesn’t look bad. I wanted to ask you about it. For all I know you’ve already seen it.” He flicked to the title and description.

“I missed that one, but it sounds good.”

For the next two hours, we lay companionably together watching the film. During the obligatory scene when the leading man bedded his love interest, Aaron turned to me for a kiss, and I was only too happy to comply. My body tingled when he squeezed my breast. Something had told me he wouldn’t want to jump right into the nitty-gritty as soon as we returned from dinner. I liked the idea of cuddling together on the bed while watching a movie, playing footsie.

Aaron alternately stroked and squeezed my arm periodically. By the time the closing credits ran, I think both of us were ready to move to the next level. I can’t remember the last time I felt so excited about the prospect of having sex.

He moved so excruciatingly slowly, it was almost maddening. He was a great kisser, though. When I reached out and touched the goods, I wanted to whoop for joy. Handsome, rich, successful,…and packing, too.

The way he stared at me after I was nude made me feel like the most beautiful creature on earth, and that’s quite a stretch, since I’m forty-two and I don’t exercise.

Aaron, on the other hand,
does
work out. The sight of him naked left me breathless, and I’m not just talking about from the waist down. He had toned abs, muscled but not huge biceps, and a well-developed chest with tightly coiled curls in its center. He put on a condom and moved between my thighs, and the way he groaned the moment he got inside me brought tears to my eyes. I knew exactly how he felt. It had been a drought for me as well, although probably not as long as his. I squeezed the cheeks of his butt like they could save me from drowning and squeezed him with my vaginal muscles, welcoming him into my body.

I’m embarrassed to say this, but that first time went only about three minutes. I was just too excited, and so was he.

“My God, I think I lasted longer than that my very first time,” he said ruefully, his face close to mine but to the side, where I couldn’t actually see him. “I must apologize to you.”

“Don’t. I couldn’t control myself, either.” I had a memory of my own first time, and how quickly my partner had reached climax. It had taken all of thirty seconds. I giggled at the recollection. “Besides, we can always do it again.”

“You can count on that.”

Ten minutes later we did just that, and this time we acted more like experienced adults than horny teenagers with no control.

Afterward I reached down to finger his penis, now both limp and sticky. “I think it’s dead,” he joked. “But don’t worry, it’s not permanent.” He kissed me firmly on the mouth. “You don’t know how much I looked forward to tonight. I want you to know that making love to you was everything I thought it would be.”

“I enjoyed it, too, Aaron.”

We lay locked in each other’s arms for a few minutes. When sleep began to overtake us we broke apart. I rolled over onto my stomach, fulfilled but with a nagging sense that something wasn’t right.

Then, as I was falling asleep, it hit me.

The second time was exactly the same as the first. That was awfully unusual. I mean, I’m not saying I’ve been around the block more times than the mailman, but nothing like that had ever happened to me before. In my experience, the second time was always a little friskier, a little daring…a little less…traditional. It was like that “getting-to-know-you” phase giving way to “getting to know what you like.” And it usually involved a different position.

I shrugged, a little sleepy, considering I had to get up in just a few hours and start on a long drive. Aaron was probably as tired as I was. Traveling always did that to a person. The next time he’d demonstrate that there’s more than one way to skin a cat.

My arms went to the sides of my pillow and my eyes closed. The mattress rocked a bit as he changed position, lying on his side facing me. I smiled as his arm rested on the curve of my hip. His very touch excited me.

“I have a confession to make.”

I opened my eyes. It seemed a little early to be making true confessions, but I was always ready to listen if someone wanted to spill his guts. I just hoped he didn’t expect me to do the same.

“What’s that?”

“You’re just the second woman I’ve ever been with.”

For a moment this rendered me speechless. I swallowed hard. Then I said the only thing I could say. “Really?”

“The only other woman I’ve been intimate with was the one I married.”

My God. Was I lying in bed with a man who’d been a virgin when he got married? A man whose sexual experience paled in comparison with my own? I felt distinct twinges of discomfort at the center of my stomach.

“How old were you when you got married?” I asked.

“Twenty-seven. But we weren’t virgins all that time. We’d known each other since freshman year in college.”

Thank heavens for that. It gave a whole new dimension to the famous Jimi Hendrix question, Are You Experienced? Not that I was about to tell him how many guys I’d slept with. Even if I
could
remember them all. It’s just not the type of thing one keeps track of, like a basketball score. With his chaste record, Aaron would likely think I was two steps removed from being a hooker.

If I was just the second woman he had known in the biblical sense, it was pretty easy to figure out that he hadn’t had sex in quite some time. I was surprised he hadn’t made a quick trip to Vegas or Rio or somewhere just to get laid anonymously, since he could afford it, with no one pulling on his M.D. strings, just to get release.

“It’s like riding a bicycle,” I murmured sleepily. But when I slept I had a strange dream. I was facing someone who was mostly unseen except for a slender arm and long, tapered fingers with polished nails. That told me it was a woman, and she was shaking her index finger at me.

My eyes flew open. The unseen woman had to be Aaron’s late wife, and the gesture was clear. If I could see her face, she’d no doubt be mouthing the words, “Stay away from my husband!”

W
e didn’t leave quite as early as we planned to. Last night’s rigorous sex after such a long drought had worn both of us out. It was a little after eight by the time we got on the road for the seven-hundred-plus mile drive, which meant we wouldn’t reach our destination before nine
P.M
.

I don’t know which state is wider, Ohio or Pennsylvania. All I know is that both are boring in terms of scenery…and that the people of America consume a heck of a lot of corn. For years I thought all the corn came from true Midwest states like my adopted home of Indiana, which could be summed up as containing one large city at its center, the fringes of the Greater Chicago area in the northwest corner, a couple of college towns, and lots and lots of cornfields. Corn seemed to be a staple of the Ohio and Pennsylvania landscapes. One has to wonder how they’re going to keep their young people down on the farm after they’ve seen Cleveland or Pittsburgh.

Speaking of Pittsburgh, my sister called my cell phone while we were riding through West Virginia to say she hoped Aaron and I would be able to stop by her house. We could even spend the night, she said. I knew that Mom hadn’t been able to contain her excitement about Aaron’s offer to fly out and drive back with me and blabbed, and that Cissy just wanted to get a look at him to see if he was really all that.

“I’m sorry, Cissy, but we can’t,” I told her. “Aaron has to be back at work on Monday. We’re going to drive straight through, and he’ll be able to rest tomorrow.”

As I spoke I realized something I hadn’t thought of previously. So great was my fascination with all those farms we were passing that it hadn’t occured to me that since we were driving my car, I would have to drop Aaron off. That meant I’d get to see where he lived.

We stopped at a Chinese buffet somewhere in Western Pennsylvania for a leisurely hour-long lunch. Aside from breaks to gas up and to use the bathroom, we kept driving.

The New York skyline lit up the twilight sky as we approached the George Washington Bridge. It had been many years since I’d seen the skyline in the evening, and I always found it breathtaking. I was grateful we hadn’t taken the Lincoln or Holland tunnels across. The view from the approaches to either tunnel farther to the south would only emphasize the missing Twin Towers. The gap in the skyline isn’t so obvious from this far north, where midtown giants like the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building rule.

“I guess I’m home,” I said softly. New York hadn’t felt like home to me for a long time. My change in attitude had a lot to do with the man sitting next to me.

Aaron maneuvered to the shortest E-ZPass lane. “I’ve got my card with me,” he explained. “I hope you don’t mind having to drop me off, Emily. I don’t know how else I can get your car to you.” He paused. “You know, Tanis lives just a few blocks away from me. Maybe I could ask her to drive down behind me, and she can give me a lift home.”

“
No.
” It practically came out as a shout, and I quickly calmed myself and spoke more quietly. “No, I don’t mind at all. Now that we’re so close to Westchester I feel like I’ve gotten my second wind.” We’d both napped during the long drive. “I can even take the wheel if you want. You’ve been driving since before we crossed into Jersey.”

“No, I can make it from here. It’s probably less than half an hour. Besides, I’d only have to tell you to turn here, turn there.” He paused. “When we get to my house I’d like you to come in for a few minutes. My kids will be up. You can meet them.”

“Uh…sure!” I said more cheerfully than I felt. I looked forward to seeing where he lived, but I had doubts about meeting his family. He’d met Mom, of course, but that was different. He could hardly come to pick me up without meeting her, since I was staying at her apartment. I couldn’t help feeling a tad nervous at the prospect of meeting his kids. Isn’t that supposed to be a good sign when a man invites you to meet his family? Unconsciously I brushed a hand over my chest, wiping away any lint. I felt something hard, like dried-up something.

Then I remembered that mustard I spilled on my T-shirt at the buffet. I’d immediately gone into the ladies’ room and wiped it with a damp paper towel with liquid soap, but obviously I’d missed a spot. I looked down at my shirt and saw the offending spot, plus a faint yellow outline from my efforts to wash it away. It would be embarrassing to be presented to family with mustard stain on my shirt. And what about my hair? It came out a lot better than I thought it would after I washed it, but I’d been reclining and sleeping off and on all day, and I thought I’d thrown my brush into my suitcase.

“They’ve noticed I’ve been going out a lot lately, and I know they’re curious about whom I’ve been spending my time with,” he said with a chuckle.

“I suppose I can’t blame them.” If he didn’t take me in and introduce me they’d probably be peeking out from behind the curtains, trying to catch a glimpse of me. I suddenly saw a way out, and I jumped on it. “Are you really sure your kids are ready for this? They’ve suffered a tremendous loss, and I can’t imagine how difficult it would be for them to see you with someone other than their mother.” At least until I had a chance to put on something without a mustard stain across the chest.

“I think they’re more curious than anyone else. Their friends’ mothers have been trying to set me up with their friends, their sisters, their in-laws….”

I was human enough to be curious. “Do they know you’ve been with me for the last day and a half?”

“No, not really. To them it’s just another quick business trip for a speaking engagement or something. I saw no point in telling them otherwise. They know they can always reach me on my cell phone, but they usually hear from me first.”

“Do they at least know where you went?”

“Oh, sure. They know I was going to Indianapolis and would be gone two days. I couldn’t give them a hotel name because I didn’t know where I’d be staying.” He chuckled. “My mother-in-law tried to press me for information, but I just told her I’d be back tonight, and if she needed to contact me, to call my cell. They don’t know anything.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about being kept a secret, like some backstreet mistress, even though the cat was about to be let out of the bag. I didn’t understand why Aaron had been so hush-hush about seeing me. “Why didn’t you just tell her the truth?”

“Because it’s none of her business. I’m fond of my mother-in-law, Emily, and grateful to her as well, but Beverline will ask me questions my own mother wouldn’t dare ask. I won’t allow her carte blanche to my personal affairs.”

That, I realized, was exactly what I’d become. A personal affair.

I managed to pull out my comb out of my purse and give my hair a going-over and catch it in a coated rubber band just above the nape of my neck. Before I knew it, Aaron was pulling into a private driveway that led to a Spanish-style stucco mansion. The iron gates swung open after he entered a password on the keypad. It was all I could do not to gasp audibly at the sight of the mansion. It’s not like I expected him to live in a shack, but this place looked like it could be home to the King of Spain. It was a lot to take in after a long, boring drive through Middle America, where most people lived in ordinary ranch houses, Dutch Colonials, and old-fashioned A-frame farmhouses.

“Nice,” I murmured.

“I wasn’t sure what to do after Diana died,” he said. “I thought buying a new place might help the kids cope better. I talked to them about it, and they all wanted to stay.”

“Understandable.” I looked around in awe. This wasn’t just a house; it was an
estate.
Aaron stopped the car in front of one of the three single-car garages that attached to the main house, forming an L shape. The entire house had two stories, and I guessed at least a dozen rooms. There even appeared to be living space above the garage.

“Diana did a fabulous decorating job on it when we moved in when Billy—he’s the youngest—was just two.”

Remember that,
I told myself, more nervous than ever.
His son’s name is Billy.

“Let’s go in,” he suggested.

I waited for him to come around and open the door for me, more out of stark terror than out of a desire for him to be chivalrous. I had barely alighted from the passenger seat when one of the massive oak front doors opened and a bunch of kids came running. “Daddy, you’re back!” they exclaimed.

I stood back politely while Aaron embraced each of the youngsters, two teenage girls and a boy about eight or nine. Their happy reunion brought a smile to my face, and I kept it even after I became aware of a plump, white-haired woman wearing plaid Capri pants coming outside and staring at me apprehensively.

“Daddy’s back,” Aaron said jovially. “Everything okay here?”

“Fine,” the children said in unison.

“We saw the lights,” the woman said. “But I told the kids not to go outside until they saw it was you. We didn’t recognize the car. At first I thought someone had managed to get through the gates.”

My shoulders tightened up. Aaron’s mother-in-law thought my car belonged to
vandals?
All right, so I didn’t drive a late-model foreign number, but my six-year-old, no-more-car-payments Nissan was, well,
reliable.

“I rode with a friend. Beverline, kids, this is Emily Yancy. Emily, this is my mother-in-law, Beverline Wilson….”

I smiled in response to her rather stiff nod.

“My daughter Kirsten…”

The older girl said a polite, if frigid, hello.

“My daughter Arden…”

A stare somewhere between shyness and hostility, with the edge toward the latter.

“And my son, Billy.”

A friendly “Hi!”

Finally, a happy face. One out of four. Looked like I had some work to do. Instinct told me that Aaron had made a mistake by bringing me here tonight, although I saw no way to get out of it. I could understand a mother-in-law not wanting to see the widower of her deceased daughter show an interest in other women, just like I could see how two daughters would fear their father might be forgetting their mother. A little forewarning from Aaron might have been nice. From what he told me—and I knew it was the truth—he hadn’t brought any women home since his wife passed. But, on the other hand, if they were that unhappy to see me, maybe they should have kept their asses in the house. Beverline had admitted to looking out at us through the window, so it wasn’t like they didn’t know I was here.

I noticed Aaron’s mother-in-law looking at my license plate. “You’re from Indiana,” she said, sounding happy about the distance between Indiana and New York.

“I’ve lived there for quite a while now. But Euliss is my hometown, and I’ve moved back, at least temporarily.”

“Oh. You’re from
Euliss.
”

She said it like I’d just announced I was from Uranus. “Yes, I am,” I said matter-of-factly. I’d long since been accustomed to well-to-do folks from White Plains or New Rochelle putting on airs. So what if Euliss was a poorer city overall? That didn’t mean it was entirely populated by thugs.

“I
see,
” Beverline said, as if there was really something to see. “Uh…I’m confused. Did you two meet on the plane?”

I thought I actually saw Kirsten’s and Arden’s ears do little jumps, but I wasn’t about to answer that one. I merely looked at Aaron.

“No, Beverline,” he said. “As Emily just explained, she’s back in Westchester for an extended stay.”

I hated it when people said
Westchester
as a cover for
Euliss
. Apparently, many people felt there was little point in giving the name of a tacky city if you could get by naming a county that was home to many a wealthy suburb. Euliss is where I was from, and that was that.

“I flew out to help her drive her car here,” Aaron concluded.

I sneaked a glance at all three females, all of whom looked distressed at this news that proved that Aaron and I hadn’t just met, but had known each other previously. I could see the wheels of their respective brains turning as they recognized a connection between Aaron’s frequent absences from home and the somewhat disheveled me.

“I
see,
” Beverline repeated. I decided that line was a favorite of hers, probably uttered when the situation called for something vocal and she had nothing else to say. I wondered if she always said it the exact same way, like that ring announcer on HBO who opened each boxing match with, “Let’s get ready to rummmbllle!”

“Have you two eaten?” Beverline asked, graciously changing the subject. “Shirley made smothered pork chops.”

Aaron made a “Mmmmm” while I wondered who Shirley was.

“We stopped for a good meal in Pennsylvania, but that was a while ago, and I think it’s worn off for both of us. I know it has for me.” He turned to me. “Emily, why don’t you come in and have a little something?”

He was right; all those dishes I’d stuffed myself with at the buffet had long since been digested, even if part of the evidence lingered on my shirt. “An open pork chop sandwich sounds real good to me right about now.”

The children and Beverline went inside. I followed them into an exquisitely designed house decorated in a Southwestern flair. Just beyond the entryway to the sunken living room hung a large portrait of a lovely young woman in a black scoop-necked top—maybe it was a dress—a large diamond gleaming at her throat, her manicured hand loosely holding a red rose. It had to be Diana. Now the finger-shaking figure from my dream had a face, and a pretty one at that, as well as an elegant-appearing hand.

I turned away, not wanting to make unflattering comparisons between her and myself. I did have one major factor going for me, one that Diana couldn’t compete with: I was
alive.

“I’d better give my mother a call,” I said, “just to tell her that we got in safely, and that I’ll be home shortly. I don’t want her to worry.”

“Emily, are you sure it’s safe to drive home so late?” Aaron asked.

Beverline’s smile relaxed to a bemused expression. Aaron had never said anything along the lines of Euliss being unsafe before. I knew he was just looking out for me, but I cursed his timing nevertheless.