Double Tears
Chapter 106
“Those sweet lips. My, oh my, I could kiss those lips all night long. Good things come to those who wait.”
—Jess C. Scott, The Intern
I LIED TO CINDY about taking Tuesday off. The truth was I didn’t want to let her down in the rehearsal room. I’d been playing the lute guitar for the past ten days and hadn’t been on the concert guitar at all. The concert guitar has a wider neck than the lute and, though it might not sound like much of a difference, I don’t feel confident enough in my playing to make the transition without practicing. I played the lute guitar while walking around the village. The concert guitar was bigger and heavier and I needed to be seated so I could rest it on my knee.
First thing Tuesday morning, Nanette picked me up and kicked my butt around two golf courses as I realized I’d been eating a lot of fair food and only running every other day or so. I was drained when I got to her house to shower. She joined me but didn’t try to make love, though I got reacquainted with her body while we washed.
“If you’d been faster on the run this morning, we might have had time for more,” she laughed as she kissed me. “Keep that in mind for tomorrow.” She left for work and I walked the block home.
Beca was in the kitchen with Mom when I got there. She almost bowled me over when she jumped into my arms and wrapped her legs around my waist. She kissed me intensely. I hugged her to me, just relishing the closeness of my best friend.
“I was lonely without you!” Beca said. “I’m so glad Rachel and Livy came back last week. I thought I’d go crazy waiting for… you know… Joan to call.”
“You’ve been with Nanette, haven’t you? And Donna?”
“Well, yeah. I stayed at Nanette’s after Mom left. This week, I’ve been out to Donna’s a lot. So have the others.”
“Where’d your mom go?”
“You were really out of it preparing for all the shows, weren’t you? She went back to Thailand a week after school got out. For a while, she was determined not to go and I had to convince her I had a support network here to take care of me in an emergency. She’s been doing the summer teaching gig in Chiang Mai for two years and they really wanted her back. She won’t get home until the second week of August—just before school starts.”
“Boy! I didn’t realize how out of it I’ve been.”
“Jacob,” Mom said as she put down her phone. “I need you to take Peyton over to the pool this morning. You don’t need to stay, but Lupe Adams is having a discussion with her daughters and can’t drive this morning.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, concerned about Brittany.
“You’ll have to find out that when they are finished with their discussion. I’ve no doubt keeping Sophie and Brittany in Kansas for an extra week will figure into the conversation.”
“Okay,” I said. It was likely that sleeping with Brittany would also figure into the conversation.
“It’s good to have you back home,” Mom said. “Not just for errands. I didn’t realize how much I missed my children when they’re gone. I need to get to work. If you could mow sometime today, I would appreciate it. I know you’ll be in rehearsals all day tomorrow.” She kissed Peyton at the table and then kissed both Beca and me on the cheek, then headed out. I realized I was still holding Rebeca with her legs wrapped around my waist and my hands on her cute little butt.
“Well, so much for practicing this morning,” I said.
“Eat breakfast, J,” Pey said. “I need to leave for the pool in half an hour. I have a busy schedule, too.”
“Says my nine-year-old busy sister,” I laughed.
“I’m almost ten.”
“I stand corrected. I missed you, Pey.” I said. I set Beca down and we got our toast and coffee. Mom had left cheesy eggs in the frying pan for us. They were yummy, but that meant the pan would need to be scrubbed before I got to practice, too.
Beca also considered it her day to hang out with me. I was good with that. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her the past two weeks. Sure, we talked on the phone, just as I did with Em, but having her near where I could just turn and make a comment or ask a question, having her reach out and touch my hand or my shoulder, having her presence in the room with me, it really made it feel like I was at home. After we got Pey to the pool, I went out to mow the lawn and Beca scrubbed the awful frying pan and did the rest of the dishes. At last, I had time to sit and practice a while.
I spread the classical music Cindy and I were working on out in front of me. We had a contemporary piece—well, 1995—by Pujol called ‘Suite Buenos Aires’ that Vinnie had suggested for our next recital and recording that had a wonderful mix of traditional classics with an overtone of Latin influence. Mr. LeBlanc had provided us with an arrangement of Debussy’s ‘Arabesque No. 1’ for guitar, flute, and string quartet. I wanted us working on it for the winter concert in December. I had no idea who the strings would be.
I’d been working on the Suite for an hour with Beca sitting on my bed with her cellphone, no doubt chatting with our girlfriends.
“Smile,” she said. I looked up at her and smiled as she held her phone toward me to take a picture. “The girlfriends are all thrilled to hear you playing that and can’t wait to hear Cindy with you.”
“You streamed it?” I asked.
“Just about five minutes on Snapchat. Come on. Donna invited us to lunch.”
“I really need to practice,” I said. An hour out of the day was not enough to get ready for our lessons tomorrow. Sure, I wanted to see Donna but I was torn.
“Bring your guitar. You have to eat anyway and you can practice there. It will just be the three of us and Donna and I can sit in the next room to chat while you play. Please, Jacob?” she whined. My stomach growled. She was right. I did need to eat anyway. I packed up my guitar and music and music stand and we loaded into the truck. Beca slid to the middle and fastened her seatbelt. I chuckled at remembering what a difference between her and Livy in that position. She didn’t distract me from my driving and I navigated out to Donna’s farm.
That might have been the best thing ever. First, there was the greeting hug and feeling Donna’s incredible breasts softly pressed against my chest. I held the hug a little longer than necessary but she showed no inclination to break it off.
“I think you’ve missed me as much as I’ve missed you,” she finally laughed.
“Me, too,” Beca said, soon lost in Donna’s embrace.
“You were here yesterday!” Donna said. Nonetheless, she held the hug with Beca at least as long as she had with me. I could see things had become far more relaxed with them than before I left.
Second, there was the lunch. I didn’t realize how hungry I’d become. Donna had another of what she called a farmer’s salad but it seemed to have even more ingredients than the last one I enjoyed here. This one included ham and big chunks of cheese along with shredded beets. That took me back a time as my V3 body discovered a V1 favorite. We cleaned up after a very nice time getting caught up.
Third, there was my practice. I took my guitar and stand out to the deck. Donna brought me a dining room straight chair and for the first time I could remember, I practiced my classical guitar outside. This was different than playing the fair or working in our practice sessions before it opened. I was out here alone, facing the open fields, sending the notes out into the wild, so to speak. I could smell the cut grass of Donna’s back field. There was an animal manure scent from far enough away that it just added a little spice to the atmosphere. Facing this direction, I couldn’t see another sign of humans on my horizon. My guitar and I were in a kind of Zen state and I felt like I accomplished a lot.
Donna set a glass of iced tea next to me on a small table and I looked up as she went back to the porch swing where she and Beca were chatting and having their own drink. I hadn’t noticed whenever they came outside. I drank greedily of the iced tea and then switched music. I’d been working for nearly two hours on the Arabesque and wanted to spend more time with the Buenos Aires. In a matter of minutes, I was lost in the music again.
“You must have fingers of steel,” Donna whispered in my ear. “Don’t you think you’ve practiced enough for today?”
I flexed my fingers and could feel a little numbness in the tips. I’d been going at it for another two hours and the sun had just broken the shadow of the deck roof to reach my lap. I nodded.
“Yeah. I get so caught up in the music, I lose track of time. Maybe I’m autistic or something.”
“I doubt that. You are passionate and perhaps a bit obsessive, though.” I snapped my case shut and looked back toward the truck. “Why don’t you just put it inside for now and let’s go for a walk,” she said. I went inside and set the case in the living room, looking around for Beca. Donna nudged me and pointed. Just around the corner, Beca was curled up on the sofa sound asleep. “Let her know we’re going for a walk,” she said.
“Going for a walk with Donna,” I whispered as I kissed the top of Beca’s head. “Want to come along?”
“Huh-uh. Need a nap,” she said without opening her eyes. “See you.” I stroked the sleeping beauty’s dark blonde hair and kissed her head again, eliciting a dreamy smile.
“Sleep tight.”
Donna and I headed out along the fence line toward the cool shade of the woodlot. As we walked, her hand slipped into mine. It was sweet.
“What’s the hardest part about the summer so far for you?” Donna asked as we walked. She was showing me all the cuts through the woodlots of the neighboring farms. Fenceposts still showed property lines but the fences had long-since been removed. It seemed several neighbors enjoyed taking long walks in what was essentially their own woodland park. Donna had explained that she checked and it was okay with the neighbors if we ran the trails in the mornings.
“Well, the hours have certainly been exhausting. Even when we’re taking a break, we’re still ‘on.’ These ten- and twelve-hour days can be pretty hard,” I said. “But I really miss seeing all of them every day. All of you. I miss you, too.”
“That’s sweet,” she said. “This summer is good practice for all of you… us. It tests the elasticity of the group. You can be stretched to the coasts of the country but still snap back to the shape of the pod.”
“You’ve learned a lot about us.”
“Oh, I’ve had at least one visitor every day, it seems. You, Desi, Brittany, and Sophie were in Kansas. Rachel, Olivia, Rebeca, and Nanette were here. And me. We spent a lot of time making sure we were connected to Emily and Joan. Of course, Joan only has phone time on Sunday during basic, but twice… Nanette and I have held Rebeca between us as she talked to Joan. We’ve become very close in a short time.”
“I’m glad.”
“Jacob, you are passionate and a little obsessive over your music. Don’t let your girlfriends believe it is more important than they are.”
I sighed. V1 had been through that. I wasn’t sure where it had all gone wrong. It all seemed so natural at the time. I’d worked hard in school, focused on getting my degree so I could enter the workforce and earn a living and have a career and prepare for retirement. It was the right thing to do.
I’d met Rebecca my senior year and we were married soon after my graduation. In 1964, we were holding our first child and I went to work every day at a job I wasn’t fond of. There was nothing wrong with it. It was a good job. I just had something more than troubleshooting and repairing assembly line equipment in mind when I got my degree in mechanical engineering. I thought I’d be building things, though the idea of what was vague.
I needed to pay for the doctor bills with a little one. I’d strapped our cash with the used Studebaker Lark I bought. And we needed a bigger place to live than the one we were renting. Besides, we found out Rebecca was pregnant again and that meant another mouth to feed.
I got a lot of praise at work. I kept the assembly line running well with minimal downtime for repairs. I got promoted into management. That was a salaried position and I was no longer covered by union wage and hours. It seemed like there was always a reason to be at work longer than the eight hours a day I’d spent before. But the income was good and we bought a nice three-bedroom home. The $25,000 mortgage was a strain on our budget, but I was working long hours and it was all I could do to keep the yard mowed and the bushes trimmed on the weekends in the summer and the driveway shoveled in the winter.
I changed jobs in the early ’70s, moving to a position where I traveled a lot, supervising the installation of manufacturing equipment.
I loved my wife and my children. I found fulfillment in my job.
Now, fifty-five years later, in the body of an oversexed teenager, I could scarcely remember Rebecca’s face.
“You went a long way away for a while,” Donna said. She still held my hand and pulled me down to sit on a stump.
“You sparked a flood of memories,” I sighed. “Have the girls told you about my past life experience?”
“You mentioned it when we discussed one of your stories,” she said. “I’ve heard the girls talk about the old man inside you.”
“Yeah. Sometimes, those past life memories are so overwhelming, I forget where I am.”
“So, tell me what you were thinking?”
“You really want to know about me, don’t you?” I said, looking at her.
“Jacob, there was something about you that sparked my interest the first day you walked into my class and said you wanted to be a writer. It was more than a fifteen-year-old trying to impress a teacher. There was a passion behind your words that made me take note. When you finally gave me your first story to read, I was shocked. I hadn’t expected the passion to turn so suddenly sexual. You know, that story could have been used to have you put on probation and under watch in school. Male students do not give such blatantly sexual content to young female teachers.”
“Would it have been different if I were female?”
“No. It might have seemed less threatening but that is a cultural phenomenon, not a physical one.”
“So why didn’t you report me and have me suspended?”
“I’d asked for your story and promised you a fair evaluation. The idea of turning you in seemed like a betrayal of trust. And…” she squeezed my hand and sighed, “…it was titillating. For all the criticisms I had of the writing and a bit about the technical side of descriptions, I found the writing genuinely erotic and… inspiring. Tell me, how do you feel about writing now that you have music taking such a prominent place in your life?”
“Sometimes a little conflicted. I love playing the guitar. I love making music with Cindy and performing at the fairs. But sometimes I get very antsy because I can’t get to my keyboard to write and something has just become intensely urgent for me to get it down. I end up staying awake late at night writing a scene or a whole story and then being angry at myself because I don’t do my best when I run in the morning and Nan is disappointed in me,” I laughed.
“How do you feel about Nanette?”
“I love her! I’m passionate about her. Obsessed.”
“And Rebeca?”
“How could you even ask. I love her. I can’t wait to be with her and talk to her.”
“And Rachel?”
“She’s my second skin. I wear her in my heart. I love her.”
“Desiree? Olivia? Brittany? Sophie? Emily?”
“You are naming the people I cherish most in the world. The people who define me. I would do anything for them. When I’m with them—any one or more of them—she fills my vision until there is nothing else for me to see. They are my first thought in the morning, the last before I sleep. I would give my life to protect them and live it to cherish them. I place music, writing, and running as the most important activities in my life, but my girlfriends are my obsession.”
“And me?” She looked at me intently and a I gazed into her eyes. How could I tell her all those stories had been written for her?
“I have loved you since long before we met,” I said softly. “I have hoped for… longed for the moment when you would join our family.”
“Show me,” she whispered.
I let my lips touch hers as her eyes drifted closed. I poured my love into that kiss. And not just my love but Em’s, Beca’s, Rachel’s, Joan’s, Desi’s, Britt’s, Livy’s, Sophie’s, Nanette’s. I knew when I spoke of longing for Donna, I spoke for all of us.
The kiss deepened as did our embrace. I wanted to caress her, to touch the softness of those breasts she pressed against my chest. I wanted to take her, make love to her. But I kept the passion between our lips and eventually our tongues. I held her and kissed her for an eternity.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I, too, want to become your obsession.”
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
