Chapter Six

Secrets of the House

 

 

Dinner was a little less crazy the second night at the beach house. Frieda managed to pull off a culinary delight of perfectly cooked tenderloin with a warm pink center, loaded baked potatoes topped with sour cream and chives, and grilled corn on the cob; each of the kernels had a crunchy browned texture to it. Her dessert was even better: Mr. Prescott’s favorite, crème brûlée. Claire wondered whether it was a peace offering for having forgotten to call the air conditioner repair guy the month before.

“Dad, can I talk to you tonight after dinner?” Colin seemed to be antsy through dinner, dropping his knife a few times. The sound of the silverware clashing onto the white china made all eyes turn toward him each time.

Claire thought now that it wasn’t because of their secret he was all thumbs, but because he was nervous to talk to his dad about his changed course of life—the one he wanted for himself.

“Colin, the Yankees’ game is tonight. They’re playing the Red Sox. I’ll be parked in front of the ol’ boob tube. Tomorrow would be a better time, son.” He slapped his bubbly tummy with his chunky fingers, signaling the dinner was successfully at rest in his stomach.

“Sure, I’ll talk to you then.”

Claire could see the disappointment in his eyes as he lowered his head. He had been so happy a couple of hours ago. The thought of them together in the cottage made her all warm inside. Images of lava cascading down a mountainside came to her mind when she flashbacked to the moment. The thought of how commanding his body felt riding on top of hers, how his fingers squeezed into her hands as he clutched them overtop her head. Red, boiling liquid amassed inside her with these images, flowing at blistering temperatures. Like one of those sexaholics they were talking about earlier, she could see how someone could be addicted to the sensation. She was wondering when she could feel it all over again.

“It sure did take you two a long time to get Italian ice. Jason and I wanted to use the car to go shopping. There was nothing else to do with that storm that came out of nowhere.”

Claire looked at Colin to answer his sister. She wasn’t sure what protocol was for lying in the Prescott family. In her family of two, she never had the need to lie. She had an open line of communication with her mother. When she’d go to the parties in high school, she’d tell her mother the person’s name and address of where it was. There was never a need to hide anything from each other. Even the time Claire lost her virginity in college with Rex, the guy who was going down in history as the biggest mistake of her life. He had only pretended to be in love with Claire to get into her pants. She remembered calling her mother and crying on the phone like a baby the next morning from her dorm room.

“Mom, I woke up and he’s gone. No note, nothing. When I just called him, he said he wanted to have some space. He told me I was getting too needy for him.” She grabbed another tissue from the box on her bed and blew her nose. “What does that even mean?”

“Honey, that means he got what he wanted and now he’s gone. I told you to make sure your first time was with a guy you loved and he loved you back. I only heard you mention this Rex guy’s name two times. One included that you weren’t sure what was up with the way he wore his hat backward all the time. Not once were you gasping for air that you hadn’t talked to him in the last thirty minutes. That’s the kind of love I was talking about before you give yourself to someone. Were you even dating him exclusively?”

“Not really. I don’t know.” She bit her fingernail and searched the walls for an answer written on them. She’d been exclusive with him, but she hadn’t checked to make sure it was a shared decision. And the hat comment was true. He didn’t even take it off while they made love. Was it love they were making? She was sure he was only waiting for the score. In fact, he yelled the word “score” right before it was over. The horror, to think he was her first.

“But I thought I was beginning to like him like that. He was witty, funny, and seemed to like me back. He picked me a handful of dandelions and told me to make a wish and blow. It was so corny, yet so cute. He told me he hoped he was one of the wishes I wished for.” Her tone changed from lovesick to irritation. “And quite frankly, I’m tired of being the only virgin on campus, Mother. You should hear all the talk of these girls. I have the word loser written on my forehead and they know it.”

“Baby girl, erase him from your memory. Never let him enter your mind again. And for goodness’ sakes, Claire, dandelions? They’re weeds, honey. Wait for someone to bring you roses and even then, check their intentions. Anyway, the first dud never counts. It’s like how I always have to throw away the first pancake when I make them. The second one is always better. And I never want to hear you say you’re a loser. You’re bright, funny, and the best thing in my life.”

Claire wondered what her mom would think about Colin as a love interest. Who happened now to be looking like a seasoned liar. His expression never changed when he told the untruth matter-of-factly.

“We got to the place and it was closed, so I drove Claire to the one at Mission Point.”

“What? That’s almost an hour away. Did you want it that badly, Claire?”

Claire swallowed hard. “You know me and my Italian ice.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. She did love the stuff, but now she was wondering whether Colin was turning out to be another Rex. The only difference being she was stuck at his house and he couldn’t leave so easily.

After the evening porch time with the family and retelling stories to Jason about some of Claire and Mallory’s tricks of the past, Claire excused herself to bed. She wanted to get away and be by herself—to try to make sense of all that happened and what it meant for her…and Colin. She felt something for him…something more than a one-time thing. Even if she said she’d be okay if that’s all it was. She certainly didn’t want to make the mistake of falling in love with him if he didn’t feel the same way. Guys would tell you anything when they were naked, lying beside you. It was the surest way to get a false positive result about anything.

She had taken a long shower and was finally tucked inside her covers. It was dark inside her room—the moon had taken the night off and was behind the thick shroud of clouds in the sky. She heard the door to her room slowly open. She rose slightly to wait and hear who it was.

The silhouette came toward her, raising the sheet back from the other side of the bed. The male Adonis was easy to recognize, now that she’d seen him twice in the buff.

“Colin, what are you doing here? If your mom finds out, she’ll—”

He kissed her before she could finish. “I can’t seem to be able to get any rest in that bed alone, knowing you’re lying only three doors down, in this bed where it’s easy enough to be with you.” He touched her face tenderly. She tried to make out his features but it was too dark to see his intense blue eyes. “Is it possible I can just lay here for a few minutes and listen to you breathe?” He rose upon his bent arm, waiting for her reply.

She knew if they got caught, she’d probably be sent home immediately. But it didn’t matter. At least she’d have had one more time spent in his arms. And that was worth the embarrassment of being found out.

She placed her arm around him and he laid his head on her chest, calmly listening to the beating of her heart and stroking her arm.

“Your skin is so soft,” he said. “It’s like the angel hair Mom used to use on the Christmas tree. I could sleep with you every night, touching your skin.”

She pressed her eyes tight together. If only he could. This felt amazing. His strong arms made her feel as if the world could fall apart and she wouldn’t even know it. She wanted to feel him with her forever, only she knew it could never be. She stopped herself from fantasizing about the impossible. No matter how much conviction he thought he had to stand up to his father, she knew it would never be enough. Careers were one thing; people were another. If Jason wasn’t good enough for Mallory just because of his degree, Claire would never be good enough for Colin based on the fact she was an orphan living in Queens.

James Prescott scared her as a child with his stern words about how he felt things should be, and they usually were. From the menu for dinner to the restriction of going to the festival with his family wearing her blue sundress with the broken strap. She had to change it if she wanted to go. She was allowed, however, to wear one of Mallory’s. No, this thing with Colin would never happen. It couldn’t.

“Tell me about your bedroom at home. What’s it like? Do you have the pictures up of guys you’ve broken their hearts? Are there posters of boy bands taped to the ceiling?” He nuzzled his head close to hers and waited to hear her answer. She felt his short hair on her neck.

“Boy bands?” She nudged his arm. “I didn’t have any boy bands I really cared for.” She would never admit to the one on the back of her bathroom door. She’d found her mother never took it down after she moved for college. “Let me see. First, it won’t be my room for much longer. I’m moving when I return to New York. I have to find another apartment since my lease is up and the nasty landlord took a deposit from someone else.” She moved her hair from his face, so she could lay cheek to cheek with him.

“As far as it goes, I sleep on the sofa now. Mom used to, but when she became sicker, I moved her into my room. I never moved back in there. But before it was hers, I had a bed, and a floor-length mirror to which I would sing Britney Spears songs into while holding my mother’s bottle of hairspray. Mom painted the frame of it purple. It was her favorite color, and I didn’t care, if it made her happy.

“I don’t have any pictures really, just a dressing table. I have no idea where it came from. I think it was Mom’s before it was mine. The drawer hardware swivels back and forth, and the bottom right side is broken off altogether. I’m pretty sure I still have Easter candy in it, but I can’t open it to get it out. Anyway, I have a picture taped to the mirror of Chloe and me. She was my closest friend in school. We’re in a parking lot, holding pumpkins. I think it was taken when I was twelve. Her mother gave it to me. Other than that, I have my collection of postcards taped to the wall behind the door.”

“Postcards? From where?”

“Everywhere. All the places that exist in the world that I’ll never get to see, but dream to.”

“And how did you get them, if you were never there?”

“Mom’s friend at the airport. She’s a flight attendant. Her name is Veronica and she started getting me postcards from wherever she flew and would bring them back for Mom to give me.”

He rolled over on his side to look at her. “I can fly you to all those places myself, Claire.”

“Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? You have to know how to fly first.”

“That’s just a matter of schooling. I’m going to do it—watch me. I’m going to learn how to fly and we’re going to see the world.”

She touched his cheek. He was so determined and pitiful at the same time. She knew flying was something he wanted more than breathing itself. She could hear it in his conviction.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He shook his head, staring at her.

“Not only can’t you see me in the dark, but you don’t have to continue to smooth talk me, Colin. We’ve already consummated this relationship.” Or whatever it was, for that matter. So far, it felt like a secret they’d both have to take to their graves.

Claire felt the need to guard herself from his compliments. She was certain it would go no further than the week she had left to spend there. And she couldn’t afford to have her heart broken by a guy. Not this year. This year was already monumentally the worst year of her life. Colin was great—perfect, in fact—but maybe he was just something to get her through a rough patch. That’s what she’d keep telling herself.

“Claire, you are the most difficult girl I’ve ever met to say sweet nothings to.”

“Sweet nothings? Did you just say sweet nothings?” She laughed low beneath the blankets.

“There you go again. Haven’t you ever read Shakespeare? Doesn’t every girl want a guy to tell her things like how her skin is soft, her eyes are like two endless worlds, swallowing him whole?”

“Only if they mean it, and not saying it because it’s something they read and figure they ought to. Colin, you don’t have to waste this good stuff on me. Save it for someone else.”

“I do mean it. I mean it with all that I am. Why are you becoming so cold and distant? You’re treating me like when we were ten and I dug that hole in the sand for you to trip.”

She nudged him. “That was awful of you. I am not. Maybe I’m keeping guard of myself. Maybe because I see how you can lie to your family without batting an eye. Why should I believe you’re telling me the truth, Colin?” She sat up in the bed and palmed her face. “Would you listen to me? You and all your ‘sweet nothing’ talk should mean nothing to me. Here I was, angry with you earlier for not telling your family about what we’re doing…you know what I mean. And how we feel about each other…well, never mind. We don’t feel anything, I’m sure. I know I agreed to the one-night stand thing.” She shook her head, and tried to figure this out. “Maybe I’m not ready for only a one-night stand, or a week-long stand, or whatever this is, Colin. It’s obvious I’m struggling to keep this in check for what it is. It’s only a quick detour at most to get both our minds off what’s real in our lives. After it’s over, I’ll still be alone and you’ll be at a job you dislike more than your father.”

“That’s not true, Claire. I was going to tell him tonight, but he’s watching that damned baseball game.” He flipped to his back, looking toward the ceiling, and let out a humph. “I’m going to tell him what I want, but I need to know first what you want.” He turned his head to look at her. “Do you want to go back to being lonely, or do you want to try out whatever this is and see where it takes us? It doesn’t have to end when we leave this house. I’d like to see you again. When we’re back in New York.”

The mere suggestion left an elephant on her chest. She couldn’t breathe. This feeling of sheer bliss could last longer than this week? And to have it, all she had to do was admit to the fact she wanted it more than anything she’d ever wanted before. Things like this only happened in the books she read.

“I guess I wouldn’t be opposed to taking it for a test drive. Maybe around the block just to be certain you’d hold up.” She began to laugh as he jumped on top of her, tickling her sides.

“Oh, see if I hold up, huh? I’ll show you how I hold up.”

He smothered her with a kiss that led to a quiet session of lovemaking. She tried to suppress her ecstasy with biting into the sheets. Their bodies stuck to each other from the sweat they shared. Her heart was officially thrown into the sacrificial altar of love when she accepted his proposition. It would either suffer with death or soar to new heights.
 

∞ ∞ ∞

 

When morning came, Claire woke up to the bright sunshine insisting her eyes to open. She looked beside her. Colin’s side of the bed was empty, the sheet pulled back where his body was the night before. She wondered whether it’d all been a dream. She dressed and crept to the end of the hall and opened his bedroom door. He was asleep underneath the covers, with the blinds drawn shut. It looked as if morning hadn’t made it to his room yet. Claire jumped on top of him and laid a kiss on his lips.

With groggy eyes, he opened them to see her. “Aren’t you little Miss Sunshine in the morning?”

“The sun woke me up. You should sleep with your curtains open, too. It’s good to be naturally awakened by the sun’s rays. At home, we don’t have shades on our windows.”

“Remind me to buy you an eye mask. I’ll slip it on you after you’ve fallen asleep. You wouldn’t believe what the power of sleeping late can do to a person.”

Without warning, he grabbed her and pushed her down on the other side of the bed, kissing her passionately until she felt the hardness of his body against her.

“Slow down, partner, unless—”

They both looked up in shock as Frieda stood in the little hall that led to his bedroom door, with her mouth agape, holding a clothes basket. “I’m sorry. I should’ve knocked. I thought you were downstairs at breakfast.”

Neither of them uttered a word. They waited until Frieda left and they heard the door shut.

Claire let out a loud sigh. “She won’t say anything, will she?” She was caught in the middle of not wanting to be a secret and not wanting to feel the wrath of Mr. Prescott when he found out what they’d been doing. She wasn’t sure he’d be so open-minded to their plan of seeing where things went. She remembered how Mallory said he couldn’t stand thinking Jason was the guy for her. She hoped it was because he sought a degree in social work and not because his family didn’t own anything more than a three-bedroom clapboard house in New Jersey and dreamed of being deep-sea divers. Claire was a certified geneticist with a promising job in research. What she lacked in upbringing, she made up for in aspiration for her future.

“I’ll talk to her.”

“No, let me talk to her. It’s better coming from a girl.”

Claire went back to her room and pulled on her shorts and shirt. Before heading into the dining room for breakfast, she noticed Frieda outside in the rose garden. She wore gardening gloves and her knees were buried in the rich, dark dirt.

“Good morning, Frieda,” Claire said.

“Good morning, Miss Claire. Sleep well?” She never looked up from snipping the dead buds from the bushes.

“About what you saw...”

“No business of mine what I saw.”

Claire shuffled her sandaled foot a few times in the lush grass. “It’s just that I thought you thought—”

“Makes no difference what I thought. The house has its own secrets to keep. They’re not mine. Don’t worry about me saying anything.”

“Thanks.” Claire wondered what she meant about the house having secrets.

Frieda rose up off her knees and grabbed the bucket of dead petals. “I’d ask myself how it would feel being kept secret, though.”

Claire turned back around. “Excuse me?”

“Is Colin going to tell his family about you and him, or—?”
      “We’re just seeing if it’s anything to tell. If it is, I suppose he’ll tell them. Why?”

“No reason. It’s just that I’ve been taking care of this family it seems all their life and I haven’t seen one of them speak their mind about anything. Everyone’s too busy walking around on a minefield.” She pulled off one of her gloves and sucked on the end of her finger. Possibly a thorn had penetrated the green fabric. “One of these days, I’m afraid the whole thing is gonna blow up in their faces.”

Frieda walked away after she spoke.

Claire stood still, replaying the words in her mind. Either Frieda was teetering on dementia, or that woman knew things that could destroy the Prescott empire.