A Different Kind Of Forever (21 page)

“You have perfect timing, as usual.” She came over and put her arms around his waist, kissing him.

“What happened to you?” he asked, frowning. There was a long scrape down her cheek, and a gauze bandage on her elbow.

Diane shrugged and looked embarrassed. “I fell. Megan wanted me to go roller-blading, and I stupidly said I’d try. I’m the world’s biggest klutz. I should have known better. I totally wiped out on my very first attempt.” She twisted her arm and looked at her elbow. “This isn’t so bad. My thigh is all tore up.” She turned to show him. Her upper leg was red and raw.

“God - does it hurt?”

“Just a little. The worst part was having an ER nurse pick gravel out of my butt.”
 

Michael chuckled. “That, I would have liked to see. How are the girls?”

“Great. Help me here, okay?” They maneuvered the television back into the corner. Diane looked around. “Better, don’t you think? More room?”

“Yeah. I wish you’d let me help you with this kind of stuff.”

“You just did. Thank you.” She put her arms around him again. “So how was your weekend?”

“Good. Mark was over.”

“And how is Mark?”

“He thinks you’re a complicated woman.”

Diane shook her head. “Nothing against your friends, but Mark would think a bendable Barbie was complicated.” She kissed him, slowly. Michael brought his hands up from her hips, across her back, and she winced.

“What? Your back too?” He turned her around and lifted her tee shirt. The left side of her back was badly scraped . “That has to hurt,” he said.

“Only if I touch it,” she said ruefully.

“Well, that shoots the hell out of my next suggestion,” Michael said with a chuckle.
 

“Hmm, we’ll see. Beer?”

“No. Thanks.” He followed her into the kitchen. “Mark was drunk or high all weekend. Un-fucking-believable. I drank so much beer I’m going to feel buzzed for the next three days.”

“And every other word out of your mouth for at least a week will be ‘fuck’”

He laughed. “ He does say that a lot. Can I help?”

“Sure.” She was husking corn, and handed him two ears. “I’ve got crabs in the cooler in the garage, still kicking, so they’ll be great, and corn and tomatoes and half a peach pie from a farm stand down there. How does that sound?”

“Wow, you mean I’ll get to eat and everything?”

“Of course. You think I’d just have you move furniture then send you home?”

“Here.” He handed her the corn, then shook the silky fibers into the garbage.

“So, what did you say to Mark?” She poured iced tea and handed him a glass.

“Say to Mark about what?”

“About me being complicated?”

“Oh, I knew you weren’t going to let me off the hook about that one. Let’s see.” He took a long drink of tea and looked deliberately thoughtful. “I told him I didn’t understand a thing you said or did, but you gave the best blow job I’d ever gotten, so I didn’t care.”

Diane rolled her eyes and went past him into the living room. She sat down gingerly on the edge of the coffee table and Michael sat across from her on the couch, his feet propped on the table next to her. “So tell me,” she said softly. “Tell me everything that you did while I was gone.”

He told her, watching her face. Her hair was wild around her, thick and curling from the humidity. Her face was tan, lips pale with no make-up. Her eyes, as she listened, got wider, dancing as she smiled. She leaned forward, and he could smell the clean lemon of her shampoo. He had stopped talking, he suddenly realized, and was staring, listening to the hum of air conditioning. The music changed. The Temptations.

“Don’t you listen to anything recorded after 1982?” he asked her.

She tilted her head to the side, thinking. “I don’t think so. What are you staring at?”

“You look gorgeous.”

She chewed her lip, glancing downward, and he could see her starting to blush.
 

“I look like a gypsy,” she said, bringing her hands to her hair and trying to pat down the curls.

“Okay. You look like a gorgeous gypsy.”

She smiled, grabbed his hand and pulled him off the couch. He followed her into the bedroom.

“What about your back?” he asked as he pulled off his clothes.

“You can’t touch. At all.” She pushed him onto the bed, and climbed on top of him. “I mean it.” Her hair fell around his face as she kissed him. He tried to bring his hands to her face, but she caught them and pushed them back against the bed, holding his wrists on either side of his face.

“Close your eyes,” she suggested, “and try to relax.” He gave himself over. He could feel her, her mouth, her hands, the thick fall of her hair. He kept his eyes closed, his hands buried into the bedclothes. He heard thunder, loud and very close. She stroked him, licked him, and kissed him until he thought he would burst. Her voice was in his ear, a warm whisper. Is this good? How about this? Do you like it? Tell me what you want. Then he felt her, her weight on his hips, sliding onto him slowly, rocking, and he opened his eyes and saw her watching him, a smile on her lips as she led him, faster, until he rose against her as thunder rattled the windows and rain pounded against the roof. She slid off him and snuggled against his shoulder. He was breathing heavily, damp with sweat.

“I think the earth really moved,” he said at last.

She giggled. “It could have been the thunder.”

“Oh - okay. Well, still.” He turned his head to look at her. “How about you? Do you mind when you don’t come?”

Diane kissed him quickly. “Sometimes it’s not about the big orgasm, you know? Sometimes it’s just about being close.” She traced his lower lip with her finger. “I just wanted you inside me, that’s all.”
 

He exhaled slowly. “That is such a chick thing.”

She giggled again. “Oh, d’ya think?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure, in the entire history of mankind, no guy has every said to his buddy, ‘well, I didn’t come, but that’s okay, I just wanted to be close.’”

 
Diane blew into his skin, making a loud raspberry noise. “You men are pigs. Seriously.”
 

“I know we are.” He got up on one elbow and looked at her back. “Man, your ass looks horrible,” he said, startled.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, turning to look. “A little cellulite, maybe, but not that bad.”

“You know what I mean.” There was a large scrape, looking red and ugly against her pale skin. “Are you supposed to be putting something on that?”

“Yes. The doctor gave me salve and gauze and stuff.”

“In the bathroom?” he asked, rolling from the bed and walking naked across the floor. He returned with a white plastic bag, sat back next to her, and spilled the contents on to the bed.

“Here, let’s try this first,” he suggested, examining a tube.

“Michael, you don’t have to do this,” she said, feeling embarrassed.

“Who else is going to do it? You can’t reach. Besides, you just fulfilled one of my long-standing fantasies.”

“Oh? You’ve always wanted to make love to a woman with rocks in her butt?”

He chuckled and applied the salve gently. “No. During a thunderstorm. It’s very tricky timing. Now, I can check another one off my list. Want some on your back?”
 

“That would be good. Any other fantasies I can help you with?”

“Maybe. Since you don’t have a sister, are you close to your friend Carol?”

“Forget it. Next please?”

“How do you feel about handcuffs?”

“Oh, very cute. Ouch, not so hard.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Is that better?”

“Yes. It takes the sting out. Thank you.”

“Sure.” He wiped his fingers with gauze. “All done.”

“I really appreciate it. You’re always doing the nicest things for me.”

“I love you, remember?”

“I know. And I’m grateful every day.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No, not really.”

“Will the crabs keep?”

“For a while.”

“Then let’s just stay here. When the rain stops, we’ll get out of bed.”

“Good plan.”
 

He stretched out on his back, and she curled against him, and they fell asleep with the sound of the rain on the roof.

Marianne Thomas gave Diane a call. Classes were starting, and Marianne had come back from her annual pilgrimage to Crete. They agreed to meet for lunch.

Marianne could not believe how lovely Diane looked. Her hair was long, glossy and curling. Her face was tanned, her eyes bright and happy. Marianne clucked her tongue as Diane sat down.

“I take it you’re still with that beautiful boy?” Marianne asked, arching a plucked eyebrow.

Diane made a face. “He’s not a boy, Marianne.”

“No, but he is beautiful. What happened to your face?”

“I fell. I tried to go roller-blading with Megan.”

“God, why would you want to do that?”

Diane shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m having a midlife crisis.”

“I would think,” Marianne said carefully, “that having frequent sex with a man roughly half your age would ward off any impending midlife crisis.”

Diane examined the menu. “So, tell me. Tell me about Greece. Did everyone remember you again this year? It must be like a family reunion by now. You’ve been going back to the same place since before I knew you. What, eight years?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. It has been eight years. They even fixed me up this time, with a lovely English woman, who was as desperate about the dearth of Greek lesbians as I was.” Marianne shook out her napkin. “She left me feeling pretty much the way you look”
 

“How do I look?” Diane looked over the top of the menu.

“Cherished.”

Diane took a gulp of the wine the waiter placed in front of her. Marianne sipped hers, watching her friend.

“Are you in love with this man?” Marianne asked suddenly.

Diane set down the menu slowly. “I’ve been asking myself that question a lot lately. The girls are home next week. I won’t be able to see him every day, once I’m back to work. The play is going to take up so much time, I had no idea. I feel like a junkie about to be taken off drugs. Is that because I need him? Love him? I don’t know. I think I do. He says he’s in love with me.”

“He says?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Have you been living with him?” Marianne asked.

“No. Not exactly. I’ve been going home everyday, usually on my way to school, to feed the cat, get mail. Change clothes. All I’ve got at his place is a toothbrush. I do stuff at the house. I can’t call my mother from his place, it just feels too weird. She never forgave me divorcing Kevin, and I can just imagine what she’d think of all this. But we haven’t been apart more than a couple of nights in a row all summer.”

“How cozy.”

“I know. And it’s all about to change. And Quinn Harris is coming back and teaching another class this fall. It’s a done deal. Sam told me.”

Marianne took another sip. “This is all so interesting. Maybe I shouldn’t go away next year. It seems I’ve missed an awful lot.”
 

“I’ve been living in a very artificial world all summer. I mean, he has a boat, we sail. We have lunch served by the pool. We run into The City whenever I want. There’s all this great sex at the drop of a hat. That’s not how I usually run my life, you know that. I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit him into my real world.”

“Well, this can’t be the real world for him, either, can it? I mean, isn’t he usually doing something other than catering to your every whim? Doesn’t he tour or record or make videos or something?”

“Yes. Right now he’s working on a score for a movie. He’ll probably be going up to Toronto in the next few weeks. For a month or so, he thinks.”

“So, you won’t be able to see him all the time anyway, right?”

Diane shrugged. “We haven’t really figured that out. He says he’ll fly back. I could go up on weekends”

“There, see, aren’t you glad I’m back? I’ve solved all your problems for you in half a drink.”

Diane shook her head. “I don’t know what to do about Quinn. Until I met Michael, I kept hoping he would divorce his wife, come back here and sweep me off my feet. Apparently he has divorced her, and he’s on his way back. Now what do I do?”

“My dear woman,” Marianne said severely, “You’ve already been swept. Don’t get greedy.”

“You know how I felt about Quinn,” Diane said. “He was everything I ever wanted.”

“What’s Michael?”

“Michael is more,” Diane said softly. “He’s wonderful, but let’s face it, he’s almost twenty years younger than I am. How much longer can this possibly last?”

“Have you asked him?”

Diane stared down at the linen tablecloth. “He says there’s no reason we can’t have a future together. He just hasn’t exactly figured out what it would be like, and neither have I.”

“Well maybe it’s time you did, especially if he’s going off to Toronto. How would you feel if he got lonely up there and latched on to somebody else?”

Diane gaped at her friend. “Michael? He would never do that.”

“How the hell do you know? You’re sitting here, trying to decide if you should make a run at some man you met two years ago, just in case the whole Michael thing takes a dive. How do you know he’s not thinking the same thing about some cute little Canadian groupie he met up there?”

“He would never walk away from what we’ve had for the past three months,” Diane said indignantly. “He’s in love with me.”

“And you aren’t in love with him. How long do you think he’s going to be happy with that?”

“Shit,” Diane said softly.

“Amen to that.” Marianne signaled the waiter, who came and took their order. They sat quietly for a few more minutes. Diane chewed her lip thoughtfully.

“So I guess it’s time to fish or cut bait, huh?” Diane asked at last.

“It might not be a bad thing, you know. Wouldn’t you like to know where this is going?”

Diane shook her head. “No. And this is so unlike me. You know how I am about stuff. Although the phrase ‘control freak’ rarely comes up in conversation with my close friends, I like knowing exactly where things are going, and how, and why. I think I love him. I really do. I feel like a kid with my head in the clouds. But what if I’m not? Does that mean it will all end? I don’t want this to end.” She ran her fingers up and down the stem of her glass. “He’s in my head all the time. He crowds out so much. Maybe it’s a good thing he’ll be gone, because I don’t know how I could concentrate on anything with him right there. I feel like it’s him and then everything else. But the everything else is my life. It’s my job and my house, picking up the girls after school, doing laundry. I don’t know how I’d say no to him because of something I had to do for Emily. I’d hate it.”