Engaging Men (34 page)

“Why, it’s a little cash register! How sweet! Thank you, Angela! ”Kate said.

“How very clever,” Mrs. Stevens said. She even allowed Kimberly to grasp onto the little plastic lever that sprang the cash drawer wide open with a whirl of bells, sending oversized plastic coins all over the carpet, one of which Kimberly immediately grabbed and began to shove right into her tiny mouth.

Oh, God, where had those come from? I thought, not realizing the dangers hidden deep within this seemingly harmless gift. This time I was the one swooping in to gather up all those little windpipe blockers. Fortunately Mrs. Stevens didn’t notice, because she was suddenly discoursing to her family and the few remaining guests on the benefits of teaching children the value of money at a young age.

“There’s nothing worse than debt!” she said, looking at me with satisfaction as I knelt on the floor, hands full of plastic money. I nodded a little too vigorously, as the thought of the whopping Visa bill I would be returning home to swept through my mind.

“I think a high debt burden shows a certain moral laxity, don’t you agree, Phil?”

Even Mr. Stevens managed to agree with his wife on that one.

Suddenly I felt the brush of Kirk’s arm on my shoulder as he leaned down to whisper playfully in my ear, “I wonder what my mother would think if she knew that up until a year ago, you were demonstrating a little moral laxity.” Then he chuckled as he met my eyes, as if he were sharing some joke with me about the life I had led before he had designed that budget for me. A life I was still leading, apparently. Not that he knew that.

I smiled, averted my eyes and suddenly found myself wishing our plane would go down tomorrow. At least I wouldn’t have to face the future as some newfangled Mrs. Stevens, complete with a well-hidden Visa habit and a certain propensity for making small children cry, I thought, as little Kimberly burst into tears the minute I grabbed a final stray plastic coin out of her tiny clutches.

After the last guest had been ushered out, I tried desperately to help with the cleanup, but to no avail. The moment I stepped into the kitchen with a pile of dirty plates, Mrs. Stevens snatched them from me and shooed me into the living room. “There’s no need for that,” she said, “you’re our guest.” I realized now this was code for “outsider.” Because in my mother’s house, the only way you could gain family status was to scrub a few pots with the womenfolk. Or tend to their children. But Kimberly had already been tucked into the crib Mrs. Stevens kept in the spare room upstairs. I decided to follow her cue, as no one seemed to care what I did anyway.

“You’re going to bed?” Kirk said with surprise when I told him my plans after he came in from the garage, where he had gone to return the folding chairs he had brought in earlier for the party. “It’s only ten o’clock. That’s early for you.” But he must have seen some of the bone-deep weariness in my eyes, because he kissed me on the forehead, as if I were a small child, and said, “Okay. Sleep tight.”

After a quick stop in the living room to bid Mr. Stevens and Kenneth good-night (they barely looked up from the game they were watching), I popped into the kitchen where Kayla, Kate and Mrs. Stevens worked together washing, scrubbing and wiping like a well-oiled machine. “If no one needs me, I’m going to say good-night,” I said.

“Good night,” they said in unison, with only Kayla looking up from the table she was wiping down to give me a wink.

So I went to that frilly little room, changed into my pajama pants and tee, and after clearing the bed of those myriad stuffed animals, I climbed beneath the cool sheets and lay there, wideawake, listening to the disgruntled murmurs of Mr. Stevens, Kirk and Kenneth as the Red Sox lost yet another game, and the relentless chatter of Mrs. Stevens as she discoursed to her daughters about the proper storage of china.

And I felt lonelier than I had ever been.

After a restless night of sleep, I woke up the next morning exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that I no longer felt the need to press on with my Perfect Girlfriend front. Fortunately Kate and Kenneth had packed up little Kimberly first thing, so I didn’t have to worry about any more challenging chance encounters with child-rearing. While Mrs. Stevens rushed around the kitchen with Kayla, preparing breakfast, I lounged in the living room reading Cosmo, the cleavage-bearing cover model exposed for anyone to see and comment on my choice of reading material (and I knew Mrs. Stevens would, if she weren’t too busy whipping up breakfast to notice me perusing a magazine with headlines like “Achieving a Better Orgasm” or “Hot Sex— Now!”). And once we were all seated in what Mrs. Stevens called the “breakfast nook” (it felt more like a cranny), I made no secret of the fact that I had voted for Clinton (because we finally did get to that forbidden subject when Mr. Stevens tried to blame him for the breakdown of the American family. This was brought on, I think, by the runniness of the eggs Mrs. Stevens prepared and I carefully avoiding eating for fear of salmonella).

Suddenly Mrs. Stevens wanted to talk about the weather. “It looks like it’s going to be a nice day out there. Why don’t you kids go for a bike ride or something?” (Yes, she really called us “kids.”) Kayla begged off, saying she was spending the afternoon with her friend Lars, winking at me before she rose from the table. Kirk leaped all over his mother’s suggestion, grabbing my hand and dragging me from the table before I could launch into my next incendiary topic.

“What the hell got into you back there?” he said, once we were pedaling down the driveway on two of the five ten-speed bikes we’d found in the garage.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied innocently. Then, once I had negotiated my bike through the front gate, I began pedaling down the street, faster and faster, though I had no idea where I was going. Kirk caught up to me, his expression still perplexed when I turned to smile at him. “Race you to the end of the block,” I challenged, and we took off at breakneck speed, with Kirk pulling ahead immediately. I didn’t care though. Because I felt amazingly good for the first time all weekend, with the wind in my hair as I whizzed past all those pretty little houses. Kirk stopped at the corner to let me catch up, and I slowed down as I reached him.

“Follow me—I’ll give you a little tour of the rest of my hometown.”

So I followed at a somewhat more leisurely pace, listening as he pointed out the houses where his childhood friends had lived, the park where he played baseball. We finished at the high school football field, parked our bikes by the bleachers, then climbed up to the top to sit in the sun. But I soon grew restless, and spurred on by God knows what, I slid my body through the slats of the bleacher seats and stood on the metal skeleton beneath, looking up at Kirk. “Did you know I had the highest score in gymnastics in high school?” I said, suddenly remembering this fact myself as I reached for the metal support pole and began to work my way down.

“What are you doing?” Kirk said, gazing down at me through the opening I climbed through.

In truth I didn’t know what I was doing, especially when I glanced down at the ground beneath me and remembered that I was scared of heights. But I hadn’t always been so scared. What had become of the girl they used to call “Monkey” in high school gym class? She’s back, a little voice cried as I gripped on to that pole and began to scurry down.

When I got to the bottom, I looked up to find Kirk climbing down just above me. Jumping down from the last metal rung, he grabbed me and pulled me down to the grass.

We began to wrestle a bit, until Kirk got the upper hand, pinning me easily on the ground beneath him. I promptly took my advantage and kissed him full on the mouth.

He pressed his groin into me and kissed me back, then leaned up to look at me through half-closed eyes. “You know, I lost my virginity under these bleachers.”

“You’re kidding,” I said. “Let me guess—her name was Peggy, and she was the head cheerleader.”

He smiled, kissed my nose. “Nope. It was Chastity. And she was on the twirling team.”

“Your first time was with a girl named Chastity?” I said, laughing so hard my face started to hurt.

“Oh, but you should have seen her with a baton,” he replied, playfully biting my bottom lip.

I kissed him again, heat flooding through me as I felt the pressure of his erection between my legs. Suddenly I wanted to be that twirler named Chastity, spreading my legs for the captain of the football team.

My hands roamed under Kirk’s shirt, touching his sweat-damp chest. He stopped me, looking at me as if I had issued him a challenge, then lifted my shirt up, pushed aside my cotton bra and put his mouth on first one breast and then the other.

“Let’s do it,” I said, “right here.” I rolled out from underneath him, sat up and slid my shorts and underwear off before he could mouth the protest I saw forming on his face.

Finally he sat up, too, looked around nervously, then seeing the field was still desolate, unzipped his shorts, slid them and his briefs down just far enough to free himself and was about to pull me on top of him when a new panic settled on his features.

“We don’t have a condom.”

My face must have sagged with disappointment, because suddenly Kirk was advocating what we had never, ever chanced before. “Never mind. I’ll…I’ll just pull out.”

And before I could even protest—because in truth, the pull-out method worried me—he had drawn me down on top of him, thrusting deep.

Maybe it was the lack of condom, but everything felt different this time. Dangerous. Like I really was sixteen, except we didn’t have outdoor bleachers at my high school. Or a football field. We had bridges, we had tunnels and we even had bedrooms when our parents were out of town. Except my parents never went anywhere. But Vincent’s parents did. Vincent, I thought, closing my eyes as his image filled my head. God, would I ever be in love like that again? But I was in love like that, I thought suddenly. Wasn’t I?

Fuck love, I thought, closing my eyes and imagining I was that cheerleader, seducing the captain of the football team.

But Kirk was clearly on another plane, judging by the way he was gazing up at me almost…tenderly. I moved faster, shut my eyes, seeking something, but I didn’t know what. The image of Vincent flashed through my mind, telling me he loved me, but I no longer believed it. Then a new image rose up, a dark-haired man who seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite place…

Oh, my God! It was my first sexy salsa partner I was picturing beneath me now! And the image was very…arousing. I opened my eyes, and there it was again, love shining in Kirk’s eyes. I closed mine tight against the view and along came a vivid picture of Umberto, dance partner number two, who was looking even better than he did that night…Oh my, oh my, oh my…

I don’t know whether it was disappointment or relief I felt when suddenly Kirk lifted me up, balancing me over him as he turned to the side, spilling everything he had onto the ground.

Then he pulled me close again. “God, that was amazing. You’re amazing,” he said, kissing my mouth, my brow, caressing my back.

I wanted to say the same, but I wasn’t sure who it was I had been having sex with just then.

Or even who I was, for that matter.

We took a different route back, pedaling leisurely, as if we were in a dream in slow motion. I nodded stoically at the various points of interest Kirk pointed out. And wondered at the sudden emptiness I felt inside until Kirk stopped in front of a large triple-decker. I stopped beside him, looking up at the house and wondering what piece of Kirk’s history had played out here.

Gazing up at the house, with its neat lawn and wide front porch lined with potted plants, he said, “This is the house I always dreamed I would live in someday.”

Now I felt something. Fear. And with good reason. Kirk was giving me that look again. “You know—when I settled down with the right person.” From the way he was gazing at me, it was clear I was that person. Which was what I had been waiting for, right? So why did I want to jump on my bike and pedal myself furiously all the way back to New York City?

“Um, you sure you want to live so close to your parents?”

“Why not?” he said with a bright smile. Then his face grew more serious. “Besides, they’re getting older. They might need me around.”

Now I was really scared, imagining myself feeding food-processed beef to a toothless, decrepit Mrs. Stevens, who, despite her advanced state, still managed to hold forth on the proper management of everything from finances to…daughters-in-law.

“But what about your plans for your business? Isn’t New York the best place for you to be while you’re building contacts?”

“I’m talking about later. When I have a steady client base. By that time, you should be finished with your contract with Rise and Shine. Maybe ready to rise and shine with a few kids of your own?” he said, looking at me almost shyly now.

I swallowed hard against my mounting panic. I don’t love him enough, some demon voice whispered, sending a coldness through my limbs. Did I love him enough? I wondered. Enough to leave my beloved New York City? Enough to give up my dreams?

It was almost a relief to board the plane later that day, after a farewell dinner with the Stevenses in which Mr. Stevens held forth on the benefits of solid investing and debt management while Mrs. Stevens served lamb stew with a fervor that suggested she was trying to shovel into Kirk all the nutritional value she feared he wasn’t getting. I had a feeling she laid the blame on me udging by the way she practically shivered as she hugged me somewhat primly at the door. “You’re all skin and bones!” she said, shaking her head in admonishment.

She was right. I did feel like a skeleton. A shadow of my former self.

I even felt a bit sad for Kayla, whom I hugged fiercely goodbye. I hoped she would be okay. Hoped she would get everything she wanted out of life. Just like I hoped I would, too.

Now, as I sat buckled in on the plane, bracing myself for the attack of anxiety that would inevitably set in as soon as we began to taxi, I was surprised to discover that I still felt nothing.