Memorizing You (12 page)

He was quiet a long spell. Then he said, “That’s why it’s important.”

We swam again. This time I did it without his assistance. Even though it was only dog-paddling, I was doing something I’d never done. He made me proud of myself. I could swim.

When the day waned long enough to bring in cool breezes, we knew to head back. It was a long ride. I sang inside myself the whole time. Beatles,
All You Need Is Love
.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I’d taken to sleeping nude lately. For some reason, at least in my imagination, it made me feel close to him when I wasn’t. I’d also kept a roll of toilet tissue under my bed to spare the amorous assaults on my bed pillow. I was becoming more aware and more proud of the developments of my own body. He was changing me. I was changing myself. He made me see myself differently. A viewpoint I’d never had. Like I was special as well. And as these things happened to me, I grew more and more concerned with what had happened to Rosemary and me. That she suffered because of what I’d done. That I couldn’t let that stand. I had to do his fatherdi. My mind something about it. I made up my mind, that night, to call her. To let her know it had been nothing she’d done. The responsibility was on my shoulders. I had no clue how to explain it without giving anything away about myself. But I’d figure it out.

I dreamed that night of swimming. That I was a mermaid. Tail and all. Diving to the depths of the ocean. Seeing the extraordinary sights. The landscape of the world beneath the water. I wasn’t afraid. It was my home. I heard a splash and looked toward the sun-rippling surface. Diving toward me was Ryan. I recognized the muscular outline. I swam toward him until I could see his blue eyes. And I could see there were more colors in them than just the blue…

I awoke to the sound of a gasp. My mom was standing in my room with an arm full of clothes. She spun around toward the dresser. I was confused until I realized that I was naked, uncovered on my bed. A new sight for her for certain. I grasped a sheet and covered myself.

“Well, there’s a good sign that you’re old enough to get your laundry and put it away yourself,” she said. There was an embarrassed laugh.

“Sorry.”

Keeping her back to me, she left behind an awkward silence with the closing of my door.

Yeah. I could put my own laundry away. Not a problem.

By the time I got downstairs, they were both gone. A plate of waffles waited for me on the table with a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth’s. I ate, contemplating what to say to Rosemary. It wasn’t going to be easy. I had half an hour before my first job. I had to make the call in that time.

I paced a circle through the downstairs of the house, rehearsing every explanation I could think of that said what I wanted to say…without saying what couldn’t be said. It still sounded like an apology minus an explanation. It wasn’t your fault.
Why?
Because it was mine.
Why?
No explanation.

I passed the phone a dozen times, stopped and just looked at it. I wanted to dial, speak into it said after a long pause.

’t want her to hurt anymore from the thing I’d done.

How do you explain to someone you didn’t have feelings for them that way without making them feel worse than they did?
Why? What’s wrong with me? What did I do?
You didn’t do anything. You can’t tell someone you just weren’t attracted to them. That was worse.

I slammed my hand against the wall. Time was ticking away. I had to get to a job. I had five minutes left to make the phone call.

“Rosemary. This is David. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to turn out that way. I just wanted you to know that I handled it wrong.” My hand was motionless on the phone. I couldn’t pick it up. It sounded good. It sounded workable. But it was still a hollow apology. After all the expected interjections of questions, it would be reduced to all the messes I already foresaw.

One last dejected glance at the phone, I walked away feeling defeated. The temperature was well over one hundred degrees. The humidity was just as bad. Pushing the mower to my appointments was like walking through a steam furnace. I felt like the bottoms of my ball shoes were melting onto the sidewalk.

The first yard was a small one five blocks away. I had it done before noon and was on my way to the next. A new customer. Her name was Judy. She lived in the upscale suburb of Kingsbury, another four blocks away. It was a community of big houses, big yards, and swimming pools. Most everyone owned Cadillacs or Lincolns. By the time I got there I’d sweated through my shirt and was soaking my shorts. I’d drunk half my thermos of iced tea.

Judy was a first time client. She’d seen our three-line ad in the Post-Dispatch and called us on the phone. Neither my dad nor I had met her, or been to her place.

I stood before it with my mouth gaping. It was a three story home, shaped like a castle with ivy growing up its sides. It looked like Bruce Wayne’s manor from the
Batman
television series. It was surrounded by tall oaks and a fence of shrubbery. I felt small walking up the driveway with my little push mower.

The pathway to her door was made of stones laid together like a giant puzzle. The door was gigantic, made of a stained blonde I was surprised. that three people could walk through it at once, side-by-side. I used the doorbell instead of the iron gargoyle door knocker.

Judy looked like a movie star. She was a tall redhead. Mid-thirties. She wore a white terry-cloth robe over a lavender bikini. It left little to speculation. She had on a large, wide-brimmed hat with a matching ribbon and a pair of cat eye shaped sunglasses. The only thing missing around her was a Hollywood set.

I introduced myself. She lowered her sunglasses to look at me. From head to toe. She smiled, and shook my hand.

Her yards were beyond description. Immense. The back had a pool, almost as long as the yard itself, a gazebo with picnic tables, and old-style wooden lawn chairs. It was, indeed, a mansion.

As I mowed the lawn, she lay in a chair by the pool in her lavender bikini, smoking a cigarette, reading a magazine. Periodically, I’d turn and catch her looking at me. She’d always smile back. Finger wave.

I was melting in my shoes. The heat had become abysmal. Judy had jumped in the pool, and then disappeared in the house. Only then, did I feel it proper to take off my shirt and wipe my face. The good news was that I was almost done.

As I surveyed my handiwork, her shadow crossed the lawn from behind me. I turned to find her holding a tall, slim glass of lemonade.

“I thought you could use this,” she said, holding the glass out to me. “Feels like an afternoon in the Mojave today.”

I thanked her and took the glass. It was sweet and cold and tasted great.

She strode in front of me to take in the lawn. “You do lovely work.”

“Thanks.”

She watched a pearl of sweat drip off the tip of my nose. “You look like you could use a dip in the pool?” She was eyeing my bare chest. “Would you like that?”: DC ComicsImy

I looked at her baffled. “I…I don’t have any trunks.”

She grabbed me by the hand and escorted me to the house. “Pish posh. I’ll find something you can wear. I have to write you a check anyway. A little dip in the pool will make you feel tip top.”

Her house was large and cool. The kitchen was as big as the whole downstairs of my family’s home. It was in white marble and tile and glowed in the light from the windows on three sides. It smelled of fresh cut flowers in vases that sat on the counters. She led me down a corridor as white as the kitchen, airy and eye-catching with bright paintings. Modern art.

“Is your husband rich?” I asked, taking in expensive accouterments everywhere.

She only glanced back at me a second. “There is no Mister. I got rid of him two years ago. He smelled of gin and cigars. I bought all of this.”

“Wow.” I was impressed.

“I design and sell women’s swimsuits and fancy lingerie,” she announced with pride. “I can afford to surround myself with pretty things. Which is why he had to go. I couldn’t tell his neck from his ball sac.” And with that came a burst of sarcastic laughter.

She opened a door off the magnificent ultra-modern dining room in a millions shades of purple. It was a large work room. Sketches of swim suits and bras and the like were pinned to the wall. Metal racks were everywhere hung with clothes. There was a brand new sewing machine in the center of this room.

“Let’s see what we can find,” she said, moving hangers on the racks, looking through the clothing. “I don’t have anything like men’s swimming trunks, but I think I can find something that will”—she looked at me and winked—”look yummy on you.”

It was a little disturbing to see that she was looking through the bottom halves of women’s bikinis. There wasn’t much material to anything she was sorting through. She pulled out a pair of strings attachone of those things auped to two small white triangles of fabric and held it out to me.

“This will look absolutely divine on a healthy young man like you,” her voice purred.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a piece of clothing inspire such a sense of dread in me. “You sure you don’t have something…with a little more…material?” I asked.

She waved her hand, dismissing the notion. “I told you I like to surround myself with beautiful things. Which means…I like to see them.”

She walked to the door. “Join me at the pool.”

I couldn’t help but stare at the tiny bit of clothing. “Okay, wow. This should be interesting,” I muttered under my breath. My initial discomfort found root in reality once I was in the actual bikini bottom. It barely covered my front. I was literally crammed into it, and it was bulging away from my body. My pubes overflowed the top. I couldn’t pull it high enough to remedy that. The rear material covered barely half my ass. I was as exposed as I’d ever been in anything calling itself apparel. Looking around the racks, I could see there were plenty more pieces that would have covered much more. She had purposely picked these. That was even more unnerving.

Stepping out in the hallway, I had the nightmarish feeling of walking in a public place, naked. Yet I felt compelled to move forward, as if her command couldn’t be disobeyed. I kept my hands in front of myself as I made my way through the kitchen and out the doors toward the pool. She was in the pool, leaning on the edge in the wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, sipping another glass of lemonade. She lowered her sunglasses to inspect me.

“Oh, darling, don’t be shy,” she called to me. “Get those hands out of the way and let me see the whole package. I designed that suit for people to show themselves off.”

I lowered my hands to my side. They dangled like they didn’t belong to me. I kept moving forward, slowly.

“Oh my, yes,” her voice spilled like sun-drenched honey. “You were meant to be seen.” She patted the tile-edge of the pool with one of those things aupa flawlessly manicured hand. Come here and sit next to Mama.”

I sat on the edge of the pool, dropping my legs into the cool water. She moved next to me, put her glass of lemonade between my legs. It grazed my crotch. I took it and sipped. She watched like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

“There’s something about a man with long hair,” she said, lacing her fingers through my hair. She pulled me down into the pool. Its coolness gave me goose pimples.

I have no idea how I let myself get caught in this bizarre scenario. But there I was. She had that commanding of a personality.

“How do you feel now?” She pulled me further into the water. The wonderful thing was that it was the first time I had no apprehension to be in water.

“I feel half-undressed,” I admitted.

“That isn’t fair, is it?” Her grin was beguiling. She reached for the straps of the top of her bikini. It slipped off. Her full breasts greeted me as she tossed the top to the side.

“Oh dear,” I heard the words escape my mouth. This was definitely headed in an inappropriate direction quickly. I wanted to get out of the pool and run, but her eyes held me there.

“No need to be frightened,” she cooed. “I’ll take care of you. I’m always very careful with my beautiful things.”

Her hands dropped to my shoulders, slid down to my chest. They wound their way to the semi-swimsuit.

“I can’t do this,” I said, hearing the tremor in my voice. My nerves had sparked to life.

She pulled me close, her lips brushed against my cheek. I could smell the perfume of her lipstick.

“You don’t have to do anything but follow my lead,” she whispered, hands reaching for the strings of the bikini I was wearing.I was surprised.

“I’m gay,” I blurted out the announcement. The world stood still. I had said words that had never come out of my mouth before.

A palpable silence ensued. In it, I was very aware that her breasts were pressed against me. They were soft. Stiff points poked at my bare chest. Water lapped the pool, birds chirped, jets scored white trails high across the skies. Just like any average, run-of-the-mill day. A day when I’d never think of making a proclamation of my sexuality to a half-naked woman.

She stood back and examined my face. “Did I just hear you say what I think you said?”

I shook my head. Hesitantly, I said, “It is if you heard me say I’m…”

She finished the sentence for me. “Gay.”

“Yeah.” I kept my eyes on hers. The truth was out there. It wasn’t going to change if I looked away.

“You like guys?”

“You bet.” I tried to smile. Make it sound light and humorous. I think it fell short.

Her hand covered her mouth. “Oh, my God!”

I turned toward the pool stairs to leave. I wasn’t sure if there was anything else left to say.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“That is fabulous!” she exclaimed. She was smiling. It was a big smile.

“

Pardon?” My expression had to be thirty shades of confused.

“Good lord, darling. I’m in fashion. All my employees are gay. They’ll love you. You’re adorable.” She clapped her hands. “Of course, we’ll never breathe a word of how I just made an ass out of myself here, but they will just eat you up. Figuratively speaking.”