Lost in Flight (3 page)

It was like there was some dirty, sexual, gravitational pull between them and she resented it.  She was so
over
him, it actually made her cringe to think that all it took was the release of some inhibitions, and she’d go there with him.  It was disgusting.

Halfway home, Christina saw Riley’s father checking the fields and darted the other way.  It would take her a bit longer, but she didn’t want to be discovered.  She also had to go to the bathroom – quite badly – and didn’t want to do an exhibition squat where she could be seen from the field. 

Finding a bank in the hillside, she pulled her panties down and managed to relieve herself, but fell over and cut her hand on some grass.  Great!  Not only was she doing the slut walk of shame; she had now peed on her legs, and was bleeding as well. 

This was a mess of epic proportions and she would have to talk to her two best friends, Mandy and Bonnie, to try to piece together just how she had wound up with Riley, and in his bed.  She didn’t even know he was back here.  If she had, she would’ve left town straight away.  She tried to tell herself it wasn’t cowardly, just good organization, but her head hurt too much to lie. 

When she saw her house in the distance, Christina almost cried with relief.  She had managed to go reasonably unseen by most people.  Some cars did go by, but she kept her head down and refused to look directly at the occupants.  She just hoped that no one would immediately recognize her.  To be honest, if she hadn’t seen herself in the mirror, she wouldn’t recognize her.

Sneaking in the backdoor of her house, Christina tiptoed across the floorboards in the hope of avoiding Johnny.  Her plan of attack was to jump in the shower and pretend that she’d always been home.  Johnny could be a bit oblivious sometimes, but he wasn’t stupid.  She hoped he’d buy this, or at least give her the chance to come up with a better story.

Christina’s old bedroom was in the downstairs part of the house, but it was off the kitchen-lounge area and she would be seen by anyone who was in there.  It was now her baby sister’s room, but out of habit, Christina slept there while she was home.  She just hoped Johnny was somewhere else in the house because she wasn’t sure if she could cope with
that
conversation. 

When she realized it was all clear, she darted into her room and headed straight for the shower.  Peeling off her dress, which she would burn, and her panties, burn times two plus accelerant, Christina jumped into the shower.  The warm water made her feel semi-human again. 

She spent 30 minutes in there, washing and conditioning her hair, removing her make-up, and scrubbing herself to remove as much of Riley as she possibly could.  Christina also used toothpaste and mouth wash – lots of it and floss.  In fact, she repeated the process twice and tried not to think about why she felt the need to do that.

Wrapping her hair in a towel, Christina put on her robe and started moisturizing her face, and body.  When she got to her neck she saw a dark mark, which made her heart sink.  Stripping off her robe, she had a good look at her body in the mirror. 

Damn him to hell
. 

On her neck and under her right breast were hickeys.  Riley knew she hated them.  Always had and always would.  He’d done this on purpose to show he’d been there and to remind her that he had as well.  It made her want to scrub herself all over again, but she was just too exhausted.  Christina crawled into bed and passed out for most of the day.

Chapter Two – Lost and Found

Christina, Shanwick, The Present, Saturday 6 October 2012

Christina woke up in the afternoon, a little disoriented and in the brief pause of bliss before memories came flooding back, she was almost happy until the night of shame tugged at her consciousness.  There were ‘stuff’ and ‘things’ that kept coming unbidden, and uninvited into her mind.  She would neither confirm nor deny, not even to herself, that there may or may not have been begging, screaming and even some crying involved. 

Any thought of adventurous sex antics were pushed firmly away and hidden behind a mental door labeled “don’t go there.”  But she had “been there” and no matter how she framed it, this was bad.  She’d gone to her ex-husband’s place and thrown herself at him like some sex-starved beast. 

She’d always imagined her first encounter with Riley, after such a long time, as more civilized and refined.  Also possibly chaperoned, with a seriously hot husband and children in tow, with a still single and miraculously ugly Riley, but that hadn’t happened.  None of it had happened – not the new hot husband, or children, or ugly Riley and there was nothing civilized about last night.

Christina decided that whatever happened from here on in, she would never,
ever
drink that much again.  This was it.  Line in the sand, bottom of the barrel, the only way is up and all other such meaningless self-help terms. 

It did make her wonder how many times anyone who had ever drunk too much and acted like an idiot in the history of the world had promised the same thing?  She was pretty sure it was way too many times to count and they had probably nearly always gone back for a repeat.  Her next course of action fell on some critical questions.  Did she: 

a)
                
Confront - apologize? 

b)
               
Avoid - pretend it never happened, leave the country; or

c)
                
Join a convent?  Like the Carmelites where they don’t speak?

The more she thought about it, the more Christina came to the conclusion a) was the best option and the mature thing to do, except she didn’t want to. Apologizing to Riley was something she never enjoyed.  They’d been at war for the better part of a decade and humble pie was hard to swallow at the best of times, especially when followed by a cup of cold vomit.  If she had a choice, she’d crawl over cut glass naked, which is pretty much how she felt anyway.

Over the course of the next few hours, Christina talked herself internally into some kind of frenzy.  She was hedging toward b) or c), but without joining a convent.  The avoidance/confrontation dilemma went through her head until she gave herself a headache and decided it was time to let it go. 

Christina decided to put on some music to try and block out the noise in her head.  Going through her family’s music collection, she rediscovered her high school favorite, Hole’s “Celebrity Skin.”  She’d once sung in a high school band with Riley and her brother.  They’d actually done quite well for a garage band.

She’d been recruited to sing the popular angry girl music of the time and shared lead vocals with her brother.  They had lived and loved the grunge scene.  Riley had played guitar and he was pretty good - although not as good as Johnny, but Johnny was gifted.

Listening to the music was like a trip down memory lane for Christina.  She didn’t sing in public now because it belonged to her past, but when she put on Hole’s “Celebrity Skin - Make me over” she found herself singing along without missing a beat.  Right now, she needed angry girl music because she was an angry girl.  She was also a shame-filled, dirty, slutty, and contrite girl. 

Hole played at that volume was the reason she didn’t hear the knock at the door until it become a loud, repetitive banging.  Turning the volume down, Christina made her way to the front door.  She opened it to find Riley standing there dressed in faded jeans, a white t-shirt with a black shirt over the top only partially buttoned up. 

He looked like he’d just got out of the shower and he was wearing some aftershave that really smelled good.  Christina willed herself not to go bright red or show her shock, but failed dismally on both counts.  Riley looked at her with a warm smile. 

“Hey, I found some of your stuff.” 

In his hand he had her handbag, which he gave to her immediately and then asked if he could come in.  Against her better judgment, she opened the door and let him through.  Riley took his shoes off, which she told him was unnecessary because as far as she was concerned he was not staying, but he did so anyway. 

Riley’s appearance and easy manner annoyed her.  He didn’t appear uncomfortable in any way, as if it was somehow normal for them to be standing here talking to each other after all these years.  Like they hadn’t done unspeakable things last night or fought this morning.  She knew it shouldn’t, but it rankled and it reinforced her opinion that Riley had somehow missed the shame gene.

He pulled some earrings out of his top pocket that Christina had never seen before and handed them to her.  He then reached around into his back pocket and pulled out her bra.  Christina hurriedly grabbed it off him, which made him laugh. 

She handed Riley back the earrings saying sharply.  “These aren’t mine.”  For some reason, Riley’s “Oh” and the way he quickly put them back in his top pocket annoyed her.  She knew she had no right, but she was anyway.  He was free to sleep with whomever he wanted, even though the thought made her want to slap his face.

Christina was trying to pluck up the courage to discuss last night with him and decided she’d take the nicey-nice approach, which didn’t come naturally to her, with a full cross-examination later.  Trying to be as nonchalant as possible, she asked him if he would like something to drink.  He eyed her suspiciously and then smiled, which made her blink rapidly. 

“Yeah.  A beer would be good.” 

She wasn’t sure if they had beer in the house, but went to look in the fridge anyway.  She found a couple of dozen bottles and figured Johnny must have gone shopping for all his essentials before he’d left.  While handing Riley the beer, their hands touched and his eyes locked on Christina’s.  He took her hand and kissed the back of it, turned it over and placed a kiss in her palm. 

He then looked at her and gave her a slow smile that lit up his face.  Christina felt her breath catch in her throat and swallowed hard trying to calm herself.  Mind over matter, she thought, mind over matter, but the problem was:  they’d never been able to keep their hands off one another, even if sometimes that involved her slapping him.  

It had always been one of life’s unexplained mysteries how compatible they were in bed, but incompatible outside of it.  It hadn’t always been like that between them, but it had been pretty much their reality for the last eight years.  Some things still remained the same.

She watched him put the beer bottle on the kitchen table and dip his head toward her.  His eyes never left her face and she found herself automatically lifting her lips toward him.  Rationally, Christina shouldn’t want this, but she wasn’t thinking very rationally anymore. 

Still, she thought she at least ought to try.  When she told him to “stop” his lips were about an inch from her face and she felt him pause. 

Riley looked at her dubiously.  “You want me to stop?”

“Mmm-hmmm.  I think we need to talk.”  

Riley’s eyebrows drew together.  “You want to talk?  Now?” 

Christina’s mouth opened and she paused.  

“Just as I thought,” he said.  His lips found hers and the desire to talk dissipated into the ether.  He picked her up.  “Is your bedroom still through there?”  Without waiting for a reply, he carried her into the bedroom and kicked the door closed.

********************

Christina, Shanwick, The Present, Sunday 7 October 2012

Christina woke up starving around 3:00 a.m., and crept out into the kitchen to try and make something to eat.  On the table was a note from Johnny saying he’d had to go back to New York and would be back in a few days.  Christina looked to the heavens and whispered, “Thank you.”

She started ransacking the cupboards and the fridge, muttering about Johnny’s shopping abilities.  He seemed to have bought beer, all kinds of chocolate, but not much in the way of anything healthy.  She did find eggs though and hollered “score” before clapping her hand over her mouth, fearing she’d wake her bed-pal.

Almost on cue the bedroom door opened and a sleepy looking Riley appeared.  He started grumbling about her “making a habit of waking him at ungodly hours in the morning,” which made her smile.  He was wearing her robe and some black socks, which made her grin.  

Riley looked at her and raised an eyebrow.  “Pretty, I know.”  Coming to stand beside her, he asked.  “What are you doing?” 

“I’m hungry.  Do you want something?”  Christina made eye contact with Riley and he made a face at her, grabbing the eggs and grinning. 

“Omelets?” he asked.

She nodded, surprised.  “Since when do you cook?” 

He grinned.  “Since ages ago.   Go sit down.  I got this.” 

Christina watched Riley cook and frowned.  He’d never cooked when they were together.  Well, he had.  She should be more explicit:  he’d never cooked very
well
when they were together.  The term “goop” came to mind.

By nature, Riley was quite a taciturn man, but Christina gave him props for making small talk and keeping away from inflammatory areas.  They talked about her sister, Gabby, and how she was progressing in the hospital, for probably longer than was necessary, but it was safe.  They stayed silent for a bit, looking everywhere else but at each other, and when they broke the silence they ended up speaking over the top of one another.  Both proceeded to have an ongoing “you first” discussion until the food was ready and they ate in silence. 

Christina’s mind had drifted off into calculating how many hours she’d been in bed today as opposed to out and whether that was scandalous or not.  It took a moment for her to realize that Riley was speaking to her, and she had to ask him to repeat himself.  He grinned.  “I said you look different.” 

She shrugged.  “Well time waits for no-one, Riley.”  

His eyebrows drew together.  “That’s not what I meant.  I always imagine you with black hair and it’s weird seeing you without it.”