Last night she’d once again shown him a slice of her past, shed a brief light on a confused and hurt little girl, lit her up for him to see, and added another dimension to the way he saw her as an adult. He didn’t think she’d meant to change anything, certainly not his opinion of her. But she had just the same.
John walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He reached for a high-protein, high-carbohydrate yogurt shake. Closing the door with his foot, he popped the top to the quick-energy drink and pressed the rewind button on his answering machine. He turned up the volume, leaned one hip into the counter, and raised his breakfast to his lips. The first message was from Ernie, and while he listened to his grandfather’s usual gripe about having to leave a message, he thought of Georgeanne. He thought of her voice as she’d talked so casually about her mother. She’d joked about her grandmother trying to marry her off to a butcher at Piggly Wiggly, and she thought it was silly to expect her father’s love. She’d seemed embarrassed, as if she were expecting too much.
The answering machine beeped and the voice of his agent, Doug Hennessey, filled the kitchen, informing John of the meeting he’d set up with Bauer. He needed to sit down with the people who custom-made his skates and figure out why his boots had started to bother him last season. John had always worn Bauers. He always would. He wasn’t as superstitious as some guys he knew, but he was superstitious enough to fix the problem rather than change the manufacturer.
He chugged the rest of his yogurt drink, crunched the can in a tight grip, and tossed it into a garbage can. The answering machine clicked off, and John walked out of the kitchen. Mist clung to his deck and the beach below. Sparse morning rays penetrated the mist and shot shards of light though the living room windows.
Last night he’d watched her in those windows. He’d watched her clothes slip from her beautiful body, and he’d watched passion soften her mouth and drug her eyes. He’d watched his hands slide over her smooth skin, and his palms cup her soft breasts. He’d watched her rub her bare bottom up and down his fly, and he’d almost exploded right there in his B.V.D.s.
Quietly John moved from the house onto the deck. He jogged as lightly as possible down the steps to the beach. He didn’t want to wake Georgeanne. After the night before, he figured she probably needed her sleep.
He needed to think. He needed to think about what had happened, and he needed to think about what to do now. He couldn’t avoid Georgeanne, nor did he want to. He liked her. He respected her for everything she’d accomplished in her life, especially now that he understood her a little better. And now he had a better understanding of why she hadn’t told him about Lexie seven years ago. He couldn’t say he was exactly pleased that she hadn’t told him, but he wasn’t pissed off about it anymore.
But not being pissed off and being in love were worlds apart. He liked her. He hoped she didn’t want more because he was beginning to think he wasn’t capable of more. He’d been married twice and he’d never loved either woman.
People confused sex with love. John never did. The two were completely separate. He loved his grandfather. He loved his mother. The love he felt for his first child, Toby, and now Lexie, seeped to the marrow of his bones. But he’d never been in love with a woman, not the kind of love that made a man crazy. He hoped Georgeanne could keep sex and love separate. He thought she could, but if she couldn’t, then dealing with her was bound to get real difficult.
He should have kept his hands to himself last night, but where Georgeanne was concerned, he obviously had a hard time with what he should do. Wanting her had twisted him into knots, and sex had been pretty much inevitable anyway. He could tell himself to keep his hands to himself now, but he knew from experience that he probably wouldn’t. He didn’t have a very good track record with Georgeanne. She had a great body, and sex with her was better than it had been in a good long time.
John’s feet hit the wet sand, and he raised his left foot behind him. He grabbed his ankle and stretched his quadriceps.
Their relationship was already tenuous without adding further complications. She was the mother of his child, and he should try to keep his thoughts pure. He wouldn’t think about kissing her soft mouth as he slid deep inside her. He’d control himself. He was a disciplined athlete. He could do it.
And if he failed…
John lowered his foot and stretched his other leg. He wouldn’t fail. He wouldn’t even think about it. He wouldn’t think about dropping by her house a couple of times a week and sweet-talking her out of her clothes either.
Georgeanne covered a huge yawn as she poured milk over a bowl of Froot Loops. She pushed her hair behind one ear, walked across the kitchen, and set the cereal on the table.
“Where’s John?” Lexie asked as she picked up her spoon.
“I don’t know.” Georgeanne sat down in a chair across from her daughter and pulled the ends of her robe together. She put her elbows on the table and held her chin in her hands. She was dog-tired and her thigh muscles hurt. She hadn’t ached so much since that aerobics class she’d joined for three days last year.
“He’s probably runnin‘ again.” Lexie scooped up a spoonful of Froot Loops and shoved it into her mouth. She’d worn her hair in a braid to bed the night before, and now it looked fuzzy and stuck out around her head like a real thin Afro. A green O fell on her Princess Jasmine pajamas, and she tossed it back in her bowl.
“Probably,” Georgeanne answered, wondering why he needed to exercise after last night. They’d made love in several different locations, with the grand finale in the Jacuzzi. She’d soaped him up all over and kissed the places she rinsed. He’d paid her back by sucking drops of water from her skin. Overall, she’d say they both got a real thorough workout. She closed her eyes and thought of his strong arms and sculpted chest. She pictured herself pressed against his smooth back and muscular behind, her hands caressing his hard abdomen, and she felt her stomach go fuzzy.
“Maybe he’ll be back pretty soon,” Lexie said, crunching on her cereal.
Georgeanne opened her eyes. Her vision of John in the buff evaporated, replaced by her daughter eating with her mouth stuffed full of colorful O’s. “Please chew with your mouth closed,” she reminded Lexie automatically. As she looked into her daughter’s face, she felt shameless. Having such risqu? thoughts in front of an innocent child was indecent, and somewhere in the world she was positive that it was considered a breach of etiquette to visualize a naked man before morning coffee.
Georgeanne walked back into the kitchen and reached into a cupboard to pull out a bag of Starbucks and a paper coffee filter. John had made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time. He looked at her with hunger burning in his deep blue eyes and made her feel desired. He skimmed his fingers across her skin as if she were made of delicate silk and made her feel beautiful. Sex with John had been wonderful. Within his arms she’d turned into a woman who was confident of her own sexuality. For the first time since puberty, she felt comfortable with her body, and she felt sure of herself as a lover for the first time in her life.
But no matter how wonderful, sex with John had been a mistake. She’d known it as she’d stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom and he’d kissed her good night. She’d felt it in the empty pull of her heart. John didn’t love her, and she was surprised by how much that hurt.
She’d known from the
beginning that he didn’t love her. He’d never said it or intimated in any way that he felt anything for her except lust. She didn’t blame him. Her pain was her fault and something she’d have to deal with on her own.
Georgeanne filled the water reservoir on the coffeemaker and pushed the on button. She leaned one hip against the counter and folded her arms beneath her breasts. She’d thought she could love him with her body but not her heart. Now all her illusions were gone, burned away in the light of morning. She’d always loved John. She could admit it to herself, but she didn’t know what to do about it. How could she see him on a regular basis and pretend she felt nothing more than mild friendship? She didn’t know how. She just knew she had to do it.
The telephone rang, startling Georgeanne. The answering machine beeped twice and clicked on. “Yeah, John,” a male voice said from the machine, “this is Kirk Schwartz. Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I’ve been out of the state on vacation for the past two weeks. Anyway, as per your request, I’ve got a copy of your daughter’s birth certificate in front of me. Her mother has listed the father as unknown.”
Everything inside of Georgeanne froze. She cut her gaze to the audiotape and watched it slowly turn. “If the mother is still willing to cooperate, then it won’t take much to get that changed. As far as visitation and custody, we’ll talk about your legal rights when you get back into town. The last time we spoke, I believe we decided that the best course of action at the present time is to keep the mother happy until we determine what to do legally. Uhh… I think the fact that you didn’t know about your daughter until recently, and that you make a substantial income and want to provide for her, puts you in a very good position here. You’ll probably be awarded the same custody as if there had been a divorce between you and the mother. We’ll discuss it at length when you get back into town. Talk to you then. ‘Bye.” The tape shut off and Georgeanne blinked. She turned to Lexie and watched her suck a Froot Loop off the back of her spoon hand.
The trembling began in Georgeanne’s chest and work its way outward. She raised a shaky hand and pressed her fingers to her lips. John had hired a lawyer. He’d said that he wouldn’t, but he’d obviously lied to her. He wanted Lexie, and Georgeanne had blithely given him what he wanted. She’d tried to put aside her misgivings and had allowed John the freedom to spend time with his daughter. She’d tried to disregard her own fears because she’d wanted to do what was right for her child.
“Hurry up and finish your cereal,” she said as she turned from the kitchen. She had to get away, get away from his house and from him.