Violet’s body felt stiff and achy as she made her way down the second flight of stairs to the great room. She headed straight for the kitchen, the way she did most mornings, and started a pot of coffee. Her night had been restless and riddled with strange dreams that she could not even begin to recall at this early hour.
She reached for her cigarette pack and headed into the great room. She threw a few logs on the fire and settled down on the brown leather sofa under her favorite afghan. This was her favorite room in the whole house, and it was her routine to start her mornings out right here, just like this. She lit a cigarette and leaned back with her eyes closed. Alex would be home in two days. He’d called last night to give her his flight information, and although she offered to pick him up from the airport, he’d strangely insisted upon taking a cab and meeting her at home. She had mixed feelings about his return, and she had been busying herself with housework and shopping all week in preparation of his arrival. She planned on making enchiladas on his first night home since they were his favorite. “What am I doing?” she groaned aloud, “this is all so crazy.” The doorbell chimed in response, and she nearly dropped her cigarette in her lap. Who the hell was at her door this early in the morning?
Expecting a nosy neighbor, or worse, some annoying salesperson, she pulled open the door with a sigh. To say she was surprised to see Michael Sinclair on her doorstep was an understatement. She looked at him in confusion, since they had both agreed not to meet at her home after their first irresponsible rendezvous. But his warm eyes melted her heart, and she moaned with delight as he grabbed her around the waist and carried her into the great room. He sat her down on the couch and pressed his lips to hers. His lips felt great, like they belonged there all the time. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure? I thought we agreed…” she started to say.
He shushed her by placing a finger to her lips. Kneeling on the Oriental rug, he pressed his face in her lap, and she stroked his hair. They sat in silence for several minutes before she asked him if he was okay “Talk to me, Michael,” she pleaded.
He looked at her with wet eyes and said, “I’ve missed you, terribly, and I just don’t know what to do with all of these feelings I have for you…”
It was her turn to shush him. She led him into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for him before heading over to the coffee pot. She poured him a cup and lit another cigarette for herself before settling down on the chair beside him.
“I feel the same way, Michael. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat…hell, I’ve been having panic attacks for weeks now,” she admitted. He shook his head in regret and buried his face in his hands.
“I’m so sorry, love. I feel like such a shithead.” His eyes filled with tears again, and she placed her hand over his gently.
“Michael, this is just as much my fault as it is yours. For God’s sake, you are the one with children in this situation, so that makes me the homewrecker here,” she said with a look of disgust and shame on her face. “I’ve never cheated on anyone, and I’ve never dated someone who was engaged, let alone someone with children,” she said.
“Me neither…well, we can’t say that anymore because here we are,” he reminded her.
“Michael…”
“Yes?”
“Maybe it’s best that we don’t see each other anymore. I mean, I wish we would have gotten together when we were young, or before I got married and you got engaged, but we didn’t. I mean, the truth of the matter is, I don’t know what I’m going to say or do when Alex gets home. I may just confess the second he walks through the door, who knows? I’m a horrible liar, and I don’t even know if I can go forward with this marriage regardless of whether you’re in the picture or not. Everything has changed now. Everything…” she said as she stared out the old picture window, focusing on her vegetable garden instead of looking at him.
She wanted to cry. She could remember the day that she and Alex had planted the seeds for it. It was a delightful day, and filled with much excitement, as they read the directions and information on the packets and then coaxed the tiny seeds into the dirt with loving care. They had fantasized about how big their vegetables would grow someday—ten foot tall corn stalks and heads of cabbage the size of bowling balls. From here, she could make out the shape of several potatoes, tomatoes, and corn stalks. Our garden is flourishing, and like everything else in our relationship, Alex is going to miss it, she thought. He had been gone so long that his absence had become the norm; it was when he was home that the house felt unusual and unfamiliar to her.
Michael reached for her hand again, but she barely noticed. All she wanted to do right now was crawl into her bed, listen to depressing music, and cry alone with her head under the pillow. Michael wiped her tears away and the next thing she knew, he was lifting her out of the chair and carrying her up the steps.
“But Michael…” she started to protest. Who was she kidding? If they were going to end it, she at least wanted to make love to him one last time. Who could blame her?
Michael carried her up the first flight of stairs, but he started to struggle on the second flight, and the next thing she knew, they were both bursting with laughter. He sat her down on the top landing and reached for his lower back.
“You were lighter when you were eleven,” he joked. She promptly kicked him in the shin and took off running toward the large canopy bed in the center of the attic floor. She plunged onto the cushiony bedspread face first, burying her face into the satiny duvet. She heard him undressing, and then she felt him slipping off her sweatpants. She was embarrassed by his confidence, yet reassured and turned on by his amazing ability to take charge in bed. She had had few lovers, and none of them came close in comparison to Michael.
He removed her panties and rolled her over before pulling off her t-shirt and sports bra. He looked at her body appreciatively, and surprised by her own boldness, she laid back on the bed, placing her hands behind her head. She enjoyed letting him look at her, and she was reminded of how different her relationship with Michael was to her relationship with Alex.
It wasn’t that Alex was bad in bed; it was just that she and Michael seemed to take sex and intimacy to a whole new level. He made her feel like a model, and sex came so naturally she didn’t even have to think about—or worry about—any of her usual insecurities the way she did with most men. Michael made her feel sexier than she had ever felt before, and she loved it.
After making love, they lay on the bed naked and smoked Romeo and Juliet cigars. Apparently, Michael had taken the day off to spend with her, unbeknownst to his wife. He wanted to see her again and couldn’t wait, he’d explained.
“You just wanted to bang me again,” she joked, and they giggled like old pals. He puffed on his cigar, and she did the same.
“I can’t believe you bought this old place, Violet. It’s just the way I remember it as a kid…Did you know that I was friends with Dr. Middleton’s son, Lucas?” he asked.
“No, I did not know that,” she said, propping herself up on her elbow so she could look into his eyes as he spoke.
“Yeah, we were pretty close for a while before I left for college. I stayed the night here a few times, and Lucas held some pretty cool parties here back in the day.”
“Wow, that’s weird. I never knew him. I guess he went to Riverside High with you?”
“Yep. Sure did. I think he moved to Arizona or somewhere like that.”
“I’m surprised old Dr. Middleton didn’t leave this place to him then,” Violet pondered. “You would think that he would want his son to inherit an old family home such as this.”
Michael chuckled. “I’m not surprised. Don’t you remember the old man? He was an ass…”
“Still, you would think he would want his son to have it instead of some stranger. I guess I just assumed he had no family, and that’s why the house went up for sale after he passed away.”
“Well, Lucas was basically his only family. And from what I remember, they didn’t get along well at all. Lucas couldn’t wait to get the hell out of town, and I think the old man was glad to see him go off to college. If I recall correctly, I think the old man was pissed that his only son didn’t want to be a doctor. I think he wanted to be an architect, and the old man fought the idea until he finally pushed him away for good. My guess is that when Lucas left town, that was the last time they saw each other. All I know is I’m glad you got this old place. It’s cool as hell, really, and much better than my cookie cutter house in Glenn Heights.”
The mention of his house brought Violet back to reality. He was supposed to be getting married. He had a son and a stepdaughter, and most importantly, he had his fiancée, Penelope. Violet relit her cigar and rolled back over on her back. She stared up at the vaulted roof of the attic and admired its intricate design.
“Why are you here, Michael? Why are you so unhappy with your life?” she asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the ceiling above.
He didn’t answer right away, and in truth, Violet wasn’t sure she wanted to hear his answer.
Then suddenly, he began to talk—not about his current fiancée—but about his marriage to Elijah’s mother and how it broke his heart when she left. It was obvious that he had loved her. He described the way they met at a bus stop in Reno. He had decided to travel and see the country before embarking to college, but within a week’s time he had met Lexi, and he was ready to stop and stay wherever she was. According to Michael, she was scrounging for loose change in the dirt near the bus stop, desperately trying to come up with enough funds to catch the next ride out of there. From Michael’s vantage point, she looked like a homeless woman with her back hunched over and dirt in her nails. When he handed her some change, she was startled and looked up, and that’s when he saw the beautiful contours of her face, and he realized she was not your run-of-the-mill homeless girl.
She was younger than he, about Violet’s age, in fact. She was practically an orphan, he explained. Her parents were drug addicts, and she had been taking care of herself since she was a pre-teen. Despite her rough upbringing, she was sweet and idealistic about her future. Lexi wanted to be a famous dancer someday, but most of all, she wanted to be a mother.
“To make up for her own mother’s shortcomings, I presume,” Violet interrupted.
Michael replied, “Perhaps. Lexi followed me to college,” he went on. “We were inseparable, and in many ways, our relationship was too passionate.”
“Explain,” Violet encouraged him.
“Well, I hate to say this, and I hope this doesn’t offend you, but my relationship with Lexi reminds me of our relationship in a way: passionate and sweet, but painful at the same time,” he said.
Violet raised her eyebrows.
“Lexi was into drugs and sex. She was a great girl, but when she partied, man, she really partied. And it wasn’t just her, it was me too. I mean, hell, we lived in a little apartment down the road from a college campus. It was party central, so to speak.”
Violet nodded. She loved hearing Michael talk about his life, and she wanted to know everything, but the look in his eyes was a reminder that he had an entire life before he knew her, and she definitely wasn’t the first woman he had ever adored.
“Then she got pregnant. And the partying stopped. Well, at least I thought it had, but I have always suspected that she still used some during her pregnancy. When Elijah was born, Lexi was so happy, and so was I. We were young, but we were determined to do it and to be better parents than our own.” He paused, and Violet left him to his own thoughts as she imagined the whole scenario. Michael stood up and started pulling on his pants and boots with a pained look in his eye. “But we were not any better. In fact, we were inherently worse, because she left when he was six, and I did nothing to stop it from happening,” he said with a crack in his voice.
Violet stood up and embraced him. He sunk his head into her bosom, and she stroked his hair with her fingers. She didn’t know what to say, so she just held on to him, speaking soft words of encouragement.
The next thing she knew, he was tearing off her pants again, and they were falling back into bed together. So much for ending this thing tonight, she thought as she arched her back and moaned with delight as he caressed her thighs and kissed her breasts.
“I’m so sorry about what happened, Michael,” she whispered. “It must have been so hard for you and Elijah…”
For the second time that day, she allowed him to shush her. “I am in love with you, Violet,” he whispered into her hair. “I have pined over you since we were kids, and I will be damned if I am going to let another woman walk out of my life without telling her how I feel and not trying to stop it. So, please just shut up and let me love you tonight.”
So, that is exactly what she did. They made love until the sun went down, and then she fell asleep in his arms; she dreamt of nothing, as there was no need. Her dream was lying right beside her.