Chapter 7

Chris drove toward Carmen’s bungalow. She sat beside him wearing one of her long skirts and a long sleeved, white satin blouse with ruffles on the bodice and cuffs. On her lap was a white hat, its brim a fraction of the size of the one she had worn when Chris first met her.

“I’m glad we went to Roger’s party,” Chris remarked.

“I’m glad we went also,” she replied, “and, I’m glad it’s over.”

“It looks like you started patching things up with your brother.”

“Started, yes. We had a chance to talk in private. We agreed to let bygones be bygones and make a fresh start. We’ll see if we both can stick to that. It’ll be harder with Karen.”

“She did appear a bit frosty.”

“A bit. I felt a distinct chill in her presence. Of course, she knows only Roger’s side of events.”

“I must say, you did stand out from the crowd. I think you enjoy making fashion statements.”

“I have to look the part, don’t you think?”

“I think you do look the part.”

“Christian -- I do have regrets.”

“So do I. I think everyone does. You can’t let them consume you, Carmen. The past is the past and you can’t change it; and wallowing in guilt does no one any good.”

“I have some very deep regrets. They wash over me from time to time and if I seem melancholy ... that’s why.”

“Do they have to do with your parents?”

She turned to look at him. “What do you know about them? What has Roger told you?”

“He told me they both passed before you could have a reconciliation.”

“That’s true. I don’t think my father desired reconciliation.”

“Roger told me they bought the bungalow for you, so you’d have some separation.”

“Roger doesn’t know all the facts. It all happened during his second deployment. Dad was a real estate investor. He and his partner flipped houses.”

“You mean, buy distressed properties, renovate them and sell them? Like on those television shows?”

“Exactly, except the work was less glamorous and the profit margins not nearly as wide. The bungalow was one they intended to flip. My mother suggested it would make a good wedding present for Brian and me. You see -- Brian was Dad’s business partner’s nephew.”

“Was it to be an arranged marriage?” Chris asked.

“No ... but everyone thought it would be an auspicious one. Then, I fell ill.”

“Yeah, I know the rest.”

“You don’t know all the rest. When Brian deserted me, it soured Dad’s business partnership. He was desperate to patch things up ... to get Brian and me back together. He tried to find doctors that could reverse my condition and became more and more distressed when told there is no treatment. He blamed me, Christian...” She put her hand on her bald head. “He blamed me for this and he blamed me for not trying hard enough. He couldn’t accept the fact that Brian wanted nothing more to do with me and the feeling was mutual.”

“I had a sense there was more to this story.”

“We got to the point that neither of us could stand the sight of the other. Then came the economic collapse. His partnership dissolved and they began liquidating properties, mostly for a loss. I moved into the bungalow to get away from that poisonous atmosphere. They had it listed for sale but there were no buyers. Finally, Mom used most of an inheritance to buy out Dad’s partner’s interest, and she took title. In the meantime, Roger was back home on a medical discharge and tried to mediate. You know how headstrong I am...”

“Yes, it is one of your more endearing qualities.”

She turned toward him. “You know, at times I don’t know if you’re sincere, sarcastic or bullshitting me.”

“Assume I’m sincere.”

“Well, it’s a quality I inherited from my father. Roger was dealing with his own issues at the time, but he tried. He never made any headway between our dad and me, but he did convince Mom to let me stay in the bungalow, provided I paid the carrying costs -- which I did. I never spoke to my father again, and he forbade Mom to speak with me. That was the status quo for a couple of years.”

“Now, your version and Roger’s are starting to align,” he remarked.

“I was refining my astral projection abilities and my Smart Traveler column started to take off. I spent a lot of time meditating and collecting material for my writing.”

“Roger thought you were sulking in the dark.”

“I know he worried about me. Then, Dad died. I think it was the stress from his business breaking up that triggered his aneurysm. He had an insurance policy that let Mom start to settle things. Then she got sick and faded very fast. Roger stepped in to manage the estate and straighten things out. I think Mom always was on my side, but I never had a chance...” She brushed tears from her eyes. Chris reached for her hand and held it. “I’m okay. Like you said -- you can’t change the past. Thinking about it makes me sad.” She smiled. “So, I try not to think about it. Being in that house again brought it all back.”

Chris turned the car onto a street leading to her house. “You must have some happy memories of there.”

“Oh, yes ... I was a normal, happy girl up until I got sick. That’s when everything fell apart.”

“Yeah -- it sounded like a perfect storm of events.”

“Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she said. “I have a surprise for you and I don’t want this to spoil the evening.”

He nodded. “I have a surprise for you, too.”

“I like surprises ... providing they’re pleasant ones.”

Chris parked in her driveway. They walked, hand in hand, to the side door and she unlocked it. Carmen stepped inside. “I want to get out of these heels,” she said and slipped off her shoes. Chris followed her into her living room and they faced each other. “Put that hat on,” he said. She complied and he regarded her. “God, you are gorgeous. You look like you stepped out of some time warp, but from what era I can’t tell. Maybe several at once. That blouse looks so supple.”

“It’s a nightgown,” she replied, “done in the style of a Victorian poet’s shirt ... a short gown, the hem comes to about here.” She pointed to a spot high on her thigh. It’s Barbizon...”

“What does that mean?”

“They made a fabric that is satin on the outside but brushed and soft on the inside. Feel.” She guided his hand between buttons and he slipped his finger under the fabric.

“I see what you mean.”

“I wear this at night sometimes in the spring or fall when I want to feel warm but still feel the cool sheets against my legs.”

Chris headed for her kitchen. He retrieved a half-bottle of Champagne from her refrigerator. “Didn’t you drink enough wine at Roger’s party?” she asked. “I know I did -- I felt a little wobbly when we left ... though that talk in the car sobered me up.”

“This is an essential part of the surprise,” he replied and took down a pair of wine glasses from her cabinet. Then, he retrieved a small box he had concealed in a drawer in her end table. He opened it and showed her its contents. Inside was a golden ring set with a large, green stone flanked by two small diamonds. “I bought this for you, Carmen. It’s yours, but under one condition.”

“It’s lovely, Christian. What condition?”

“That you agree to marry me.”

Carmen regarded the ring and then looked into his eyes. Her hand began to tremble. She placed it on her chest. “Oh, I just got a chill ... Yes, Christian, I will marry you. I don’t have to consider it for an instant. To be truthful, I knew this was coming ... but I wasn’t expecting it so soon.”

“Try it on.”

She handed him the box. “You put it on me.” She held out her hand and he slid the ring onto her finger.

“How’s the fit?”

“Perfect.”

“I had to use some subterfuge to get your size. Once, while you were sleeping, I used a caliper to measure your finger and then worked out the size.”

“Leave it to a technical geek,” she remarked.

“The green stone’s an emerald.”

“I thought so.”

“It’s in honor of the Emerald Buddha.”

She kissed his lips. “I do think you’re a closet romantic, Christian. You’ve made me very happy. I’m on Cloud Nine.”

Chris popped open the Champagne and filled the two glasses. He handed one to her and they clinked rims. “To us.”

“To us.” She sipped from hers. “You’re right -- this is an essential part of your surprise.”

“So, what’s your surprise?”

“Well, not nearly as dramatic as yours. It is something I’m very excited about, though.” She opened her bag, withdrew a packet of birth control pills and held it up. Chris could see a week’s worth were gone.

“You got a prescription...”

“Yes, I made an appointment and got asked all the usual questions ... am I on chemo ... have I seen a specialist ... Nothing that had to do with the business at hand, which was to have my private parts poked, squeezed, prodded, probed and swabbed just so I could walk away with a piece of paper.”

“The burden of being you.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“So, when can we dispense with condoms?”

“Right away,” she replied.

“I thought they wanted you to use supplementary protection for your first cycle or so.”

“That’s for patients just starting out -- in case they experience some side-effect that forces them off the pill. I was on the pill before I got sick and this is the same prescription I had then. I know they agree with me. The doctor gave us a green light.”

They embraced and kissed. “How do you want this evening to unfold?” he asked.

“Hmm ... I want it to be slow and tender, with lots of anticipation.”

“Anticipation is good,” he replied.

“Christian -- undress me.”

“With pleasure.” He knelt and unfastened the waistband of her skirt. Unzipping it, he slid it down her legs and she stepped from it. He regarded her poet’s shirt, the hem coming to the tops of her thighs and her bare, shapely legs. “I think I’m going to stop right here for now. That looks so sexy on you.”

He scooped her into his arms and carried her to her bedroom. Setting her onto the floor he switched on the nightstand lamp and turned down the covers. Then he picked her up again and lay her on the bed.

Chris stripped off his trousers and socks but left on his button-up shirt. He slid between the sheets and they lay facing each other. They began kissing. Chris covered her cheeks and forehead with kisses, then Carmen lowered her chin so he could kiss her scalp.

They kissed each other’s lips again and again, each one more passionate than the last -- open-mouth kisses lasting minutes, their tongues caressing and breathing in tandem through shared airways.

Carmen lifted her chin so Chris could kiss her neck. He planted a lingering one on the scar at the base of her throat. He began caressing her through the smooth and soft fabric. “No bra?” he remarked.

“I sometimes go without,” she replied, “if I’m wearing the right top. Nothing shows through, does it?”

“No ... and the ruffles would conceal any jiggling ... not that you’re a jiggler. Your breasts are so firm...” Chris began exploring the shapes and curves of her left breast through the satin. “ ... so beautiful.” His fingers passed over her nipple and as he stroked it began to perk up. He could feel the small grainy structures of her areola.

Carmen’s breathing slowed and deepened as he stroked her breast. She reached and touched his cheek. “I love how you look at my face while we’re foreplaying,” she said. “It makes me feel like you’re making love to me -- all of me.”