Falling in Love (4 page)

I sat down on the sofa near her, trying to be polite. “I really do like Paul, a lot. And I like you, too.

Arlene set down the iron and gave me a hard look. “Don’t try to sweet talk me, Missy. Did he tell you about his lovely little fiancé? She stayed with me once, and she’d sneak out at night, too. I tried to warn Paul but he didn’t hear a word. She finally broke his heart, just like you will.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t want that.” I started to say that I loved him. I did but I didn’t think she would understand. I wanted, needed, desperately to tell her how much I cared for Paul and how I never wanted to do anything to hurt him.

She wouldn’t hear of it. “I feel like a fool,” she said, “telling you the things that I did last night.”

“No. I really enjoyed that. I want to talk again. I don’t want to go out.”

Arlene shut off her iron and looked at me with contempt. “I’m going to bed.”

She headed for the stairs. But I didn’t want to be alone, afraid of what I might do. “Please stay with me.” I was all but begging her but Arlene just kept climbing the stairs, ignoring me. “Please! Damnit!” I blurted out angrily.

Aunt Arlene turned around and glared at me.

I was mortified by my outburst. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I just—” I couldn’t find the words. “I’m not the person you think I am.”

“Sure you’re not,” she answered curtly and continued up the stairs.

I was hurt and angry that she didn’t believe me and knew that I had to get out of there. But I also knew that if I left, I would regret it.
You are not the girl she thinks you are
, I tried to convince myself. I really didn’t know if I was or wasn’t but I knew that if I could just somehow manage to stay there, then I wouldn’t be.
Don’t go out
, I kept telling myself.
Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Sherry
.

I told myself that I was so angry at Arlene for not believing me that I needed to go out for some fresh air and some cigarettes.
Right, Sherry. Fresh air and cigarettes, that makes perfect sense. Don’t do it!
But I knew that I would, like I always did.
Just this once
, I told myself,
this really is the last time
.

I quickly changed into tight jeans and a low-cut top while loathing myself for going out again.
You are sick, Sherry. You’re crazy. This has to be the last time
.

I quickly drove into Sparta, wanting to get back to Arlene’s as soon as possible, hopefully, before she missed me. Also, I needed some sleep. I wanted to make a good impression on my first day working for Paul. I was afraid I didn’t have the skills to be a legal secretary as it was. I didn’t need to also be working on no sleep and hung over as well.

I stopped at a convenience store and bought a pack of cigarettes. I sat in my car, chain-smoking until I saw a cute guy walking up to the counter armed with several six-packs of beer. As he headed out, I jumped out and rushed to open the door for him. I smiled sweetly, saying, “You look thirsty.”

“I drew the short straw,” he replied. “Want to come to a party?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t like having fun?”

I laughed. It seemed like another person laughing, not me, and the other person said, “Of course, I do.”

“So follow me in your car, and if you don’t like it, you can leave. Okay?” He popped a beer and gave it to me.

I hesitated. I was sure that he thought I was flirting, playing hard to get but I was truly hesitant. Of course, I shouldn’t go. But it was too late for that. If I didn’t go with him, it would only be with someone else.
Just get it over with
, I thought. “All right,” I said, swigging the beer.

Before the end of the first block I had already finished the beer. He stopped several blocks away and we got out. It wasn’t hard to see where he was a headed, as a large white house on the corner was blasting out loud music and several people were hanging out on the front porch.

As we walked toward the door, we passed a lanky drunk working on a young blonde with teased-up hair. He turned to us. “Connors, my boy. It looks like you picked up more than beer.” He grabbed my arm. “Hey, baby? You’re passing by the best thing at this party.”

“Tex,” Connors said. “She’s with me.”

We headed inside as Tex laughed, “Oh, yeah. I bet you’ve known each other for all of five minutes.”

Inside, I was introduced to our host, a short guy with curly hair named Nick Rogers. He relieved us of our bounty but not before my new friend grabbed a six pack for us. We drank and danced for a few songs and then stopped to do a couple of shots. Finally, he introduced himself. “I’m Scott.”

“Sherry,” I replied.

“Sweet Sherry or dry Sherry?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

He gave me a long kiss and than said, “Sweet. Definitely sweet.”

We did another shot and then he kissed me again. Scott suggested that we go upstairs so we could talk because the music was too loud to talk downstairs.

We found an empty bedroom and went inside. It was dark with only a dim side lamp near the bed. Several jackets were piled on the bed. We pushed some jackets to the side and sat on others. Although we were supposedly there to talk, neither one of us said a word. Within minutes, we were having sex. I tried to imagine making love to Paul but I was too disgusted with myself. Instead, I just wanted it over so I could rush out of there.

Unfortunately, he was over before I was. He rolled over on the bed, grasping for breath. “That was unbelievable.”

I was angry that I still hadn’t finished. I propped up on an elbow and said, “Let’s do it again.”

“What?” He looked at me. “Give me a break.”

I put my hand between his legs. “Come on,” I said, “You can do it.”

“Christ. We just did it.”

There was a soft knock on the door and a thin, young man wearing glasses cracked it open, holding his hand over his eyes. “Sorry, but I think I left my jacket in here. I won’t look.”

I knew I should have been grabbing my clothes but instead I just lay there, mortified. This guy came in with his eyes shut, groping around the bed for his jacket. Scott jumped up and pulled on his pants. The guy finally grabbed his jacket as Scott grabbed his arm. “Hey, Bri. Wait a minute. This is Sherry.” Scott turned to me. “Sherry. This is Brian.”

He turned Brian around toward me. “Say hello, Brian.”

Scott then slipped out the door as Brian opened his eyes to see me. I couldn’t believe that I was just lying there naked for this guy to stare at me but I thought what could be more humiliating than what I’d already done.

He never said a word but my voice said, “Come here.” He sat down next to me. He seemed to also have mixed emotions about this, and I thought we would be there all night if I left it up to him. I put his hand on my breast and my hand on his crotch. He seemed almost frightened but probably felt that if he didn’t do something, they would accuse him of being gay. Or may he just rightfully despised me. But soon, I had his clothes off and there I was having sex again.

After a little while, a fist slammed on the door and someone demanded, “Hey, Ross. Hurry up. I’m next, Goddamn it.” It was that guy, Tex, who had been on the front porch. Brian immediately stopped and put on his clothes.

He walked out without a word and in came Tex and with a big wicked smile, he said, “The best is yet to come.”

This began a long, horribly humiliating procession of guys, so many that I couldn’t count them. After each one I wanted to get up and dive out the window, hoping I would break my neck. But instead, I stayed. I wanted this night to be beyond horrible, to somehow convince me to never to do this again. I didn’t want to get hurt because if Paul saw bruises, he would ask questions that I couldn’t answer. But I did want it to be bad.

I told myself it was like a book I had read once about quitting smoking, to smoke pack after pack of cigarettes, all at once and to just keep smoking them until they made you sick and you never wanted to see another cigarette as long as you lived. That was what I wanted to do that night and that was what I got, sick of the world and the guys in it and mostly sick of myself.

It was almost dawn when the last one finished and I managed to find most of my clothes and stumble downstairs and out to my car. I drove away quickly but at the first stop sign, I stopped and started crying uncontrollably, hating myself, wanting to ram into the nearest tree.

Instead, I drove back to Arlene’s house as quickly as I could. Gratefully, she wasn’t up yet. I didn’t bother to even try to sleep. My whole body ached, every bone, every muscle. I got into the shower and futilely tried to wash the pain and shame and anguish down the drain.

After brushing my teeth for about fifteen minutes, I finally managed to put on some clothes and tried to make myself look presentable. When I got downstairs, Arlene again didn’t say a word to me, but seemed engrossed in another morning TV news show. The kitchen had a warm tasty aroma and I knew that Arlene had made herself breakfast but she had obviously already done the dishes, as the kitchen was spotless. I poured myself a cup of coffee and drank it greedily, trying to dull my throbbing headache. I would have loved a couple of aspirins but even I wasn’t crazy enough to ask Arlene if she had any.

There was a soft knock on the door and Paul came in all smiles, as he had the day before. I downed the coffee and gratefully, he whisked me out of there after only the minimum of pleasantries between Arlene and him.

Paul then spent the day instructing me on the intricacies of typing contracts and wills and agreements. I was so exhausted and hung over that I couldn’t concentrate and keep making the same mistakes over and over again but Paul was patient and we finally made it through the day. He offered to take me out to dinner but I told him that I felt like I was coming down with a cold and that I probably should just go back to Arlene’s and rest. He agreed.

I told Arlene the same story and went up to my room and without even bothering to remove my clothes, I fell exhausted onto the bed. I slept straight through until Paul came to pick me up the following morning. Worried that I might be sick, he suggested that I stay home from work but I couldn’t face a day with Arlene and after thirteen hours of sleep, I actually felt pretty good.

Instead, I quickly showered and dressed and we went to work. I was much better and by the end of the day, even though I wasn’t exactly sure about all of the legal terms, I felt like I could actually do the job.

We went out for a quiet, lovely dinner that night and Paul was a perfect gentleman and brought me home early. Arlene was still giving me the silent treatment but I was in love with Paul and so happy that I didn’t even mind. I felt the urge to go out and, as crazy as it seemed, to be with some other guy so I could fantasize that I was making love to Paul. But the horror of that previous Sunday night reminded me that I never wanted to do anything like that again. I hoped that I would always feel that way. Instead I took a long luxurious bath and went to bed hoping that I would dream of Paul.

I was ready and waiting on the front porch swing when Paul drove up. At work, I was actually beginning to enjoy the job and Paul’s numerous red corrections of my typos were dwindling to one or two.

“I can’t believe how quickly you’ve picked this up,” he said. “You could be a great a legal secretary, if you wanted.” He gave me a smile. “Provided you don’t find something better to do with your life.”

Then he grabbed my arm and led me to the front door.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

Paul put a “Closed” sign on the door and we walked outside. “The beauty of a small town practice,” he said, “is that everything can wait until tomorrow. Let’s got for swim.”

When I protested that I didn’t have a swimsuit, Paul drove me to a nearby shop and bought me one. Then we headed for the lake, passing by a practice field where several young boys were kicking around a soccer ball. When a carrot-haired boy scored a goal, Paul stopped and cried out, “Nice one, Jim. You’re looking good, Guys.”

The boys beamed. “Thanks, Coach,” said Jim. “We’ve got to beat Franklin this year.”

“Keep working,” Paul encouraged them. “We will.”

As we drove away, Paul told me, “Our middle school couldn’t afford a coach, so I offered. I can’t wait until the day when I am a soccer dad.” He glanced at me. “That reminds me of our challenge.”

When we arrived at the beach, Paul grabbed a soccer ball from his trunk and soon we were racing across the sand. When I tried to dribble past him, he intercepted the ball. So I charged him and stole it back. As he was about to intercept it again, I kicked it between Paul’s legs and dashed around him. That really angered him. As he was about to catch me, rather than let him win the ball again, I kicked it into the lake. We both dived into the water, and instead of the ball, we accidentally grabbed each other and ended up kissing as the ball drifted away.

After this wonderful, lazy afternoon, Paul decided that I needed to learn his favorite hobby. As the setting sun sprinkled sparks across the water, we fished off a nearby pier. He baited my hook and I sat patiently with my pole, just happy to be near Paul. Suddenly, my pole bent forward and a fish leaped from the water.