Tempted (36 page)

I am in love.

At least I think I am.

Frankly, I’m not sure.

Alex is everything I could ever want
–
everything other than being three thousand miles away.
 
The way he and I relate is so unlike anything I’ve ever known.
 
It feels so grounded, so authentic,
in the way the universe’s first
born stars are authentic.
 
My walks in the woods have yielded no insight as to what is going on within me.
 
I turn to the menagerie for counsel.
 
They suggest naps, treats and tummy rubs.
 
But for the first time, I find their guidance to be lacking.
 
Perhaps I didn’t pose my question properly.
 

I even go so far as to consult a chakra chart in search of answers as to the part of me Alex touches most.
 
The answer is the full color spectrum.
 
He appeals to my every need, taste and desire.

I realize my mom’s not the only one who’s ‘fallen.’
 
I have too
.
 
But, ‘will I be able to get up’
is the question.
 
And do I even want to?

* * *

David has another multi-day meeting in San Jose coming up shortly.
 
Or so he says.
 
I harbor suspicions that he is most likely going away to be
with some hottie femme fatale,
and, if that’s the case
,
why doesn’t he just move out?
 
Sure, I appreciate his help with Mom, but if he feels the need to go ‘get some
,
’ then he can just
do it at
a place of his own.
 
I know my attitude is snarky and most likely unfair, but I can’t seem to stop myself and, what’s more, I don’t understand it.
 
What would my show fans think if they knew their sage host was full of beans?
 

Beans
–
that reminds me, I haven’t heard back from bombshell Kelly Putnam about the match I tried to set up between her and Alex’s Facebook contact, Ken Warner.
 
Ken is a sweet character
,
and on a quest to find the perfect beans for his chili, in hopes of clinching his area’s annual cook-off competition.
 
Just the thought of chili makes me smile
–
or rather, the thought of it on Bret’s high-priced jeans.
 
There was a moment of hesitation on my part before that messy ‘accident’ with the chili cheese dogs at the hockey game.
 
But, I quickly reasoned that since I’d bou
ght four
magnificent chili-cheese wonders
, there would still be
tw
o left for David and one for me –
so, the culinary sacrifice would be well worth it.
 
And it was.

My thoughts return to Kelly and I decide to send her a quick message inviting her to call in to tomorrow’s show and let me know how she’s getting on.
 
I am delighted when she does so
,
and am thoroughly enjoying answering her relationship questions
,
unti
l my Mom
finds the wherewithal to barge into the sunroom where I am broadcasting and put her two cents in.
 
She makes a point to mention that I am a hack, having no love life of my own, and that as a woman widowed after more than forty years of marriage she is a much better love doctor.
 
I am mortified.
 

After the show,
I immediately begin to strategize how to handle the damage control.
 
To my chagrin, messages come flooding in about Mom, and across the board everyone loves her.
 
She is an instant hit!
 
She cattily tells me that if I want to have a more successful show, I should
featur
e her.
 
Worse yet, I can’t deny that she’s
right.
 
My popular “You Could B
e the One” segment has been commandeered
, and
at her insistence, renamed “Claire’s Mom Knows Better.”

* * *

It’s Mom’s first official week as a talk show love-life expert extraordinaire.
 
Her caller asks how a woman can really know if a man is right for her, if he’s ‘the one.’
 
There’s that phrase again.
 
My thoughts go straight to Alex.
 
Funny, he is the man in my life
,
and though Mom is living with me, she has no idea he even exists.
 
My daydreaming is cut short when I realize Mom is answering the caller’s qu
estion by relating how pitiful
my own love life is.

“My daughter has the handsomest, dreamiest, kindest and most loving man under her roof, and she treats him like yesterday’s newspaper.
 
He’s all but thrown himself at her and what does she do?
 
She holes herself up in her room and futzes around on Facebook.
 
It’s a crying shame
,
I tell you.”

David?
 
All but throwing himself at me?
 
Hardly.
 
Clearly, the ole girl’s gone ‘round the bend.
 
And yet
...
 
I shrug the notion off, not wanting to even go there.

Mom’s leg has been healing nicely, and she has become quite adept at getting around using a walker.
 
Right after today’s show, she announces she has decided to go on ‘vacation’ while David is gone next week, and that the show will just have to go on without her.
 
I explain that I’ve already promoted the topic for the next show
–
a little white lie
–
and that people are expecting her on air.
 
“That’s showbiz,” she says dramatically, now considering hers
elf a veteran of
the industry.

It’s actually fun to see Mom so excited
–
excited about the show, as well as about going back to the retirement home.
 
She misses her cronies at Redwood Meadows and has arranged to stay
in one of the facility’s guest
houses as a mini retreat.
 
The bulk of her possessions are still in storage there
,
and she wants to rummage through her photo albums.
 
Her objective is to gather some snapshots
from
her youth, in order to show Dahveed what a looker she was back in the day.
 
I offer to go with her, but she makes it clear that she wants Dahveed to take her and pick her up.
 
And that while there, she wants to enjoy her time with friends without her dour daughter raining on everyone’s parade.
 
What’s more, she’s taking the menagerie with her!
 
She says that having “fluffy bundles of love” around will really lift the spirits of her crew at ‘The Meadows
,’
and I have to admit
,
I think it’s a splendid idea.

Once again
,
I have the place to myself.
 
And once again
,
I love it!
 
I’m really looking forward to some uninterrupted time with Alex.
 
And I’m finall
y getting up the nerve to video
chat.
 
I already pulled a Mom maneuver and shared with him a photo or two from my own
hot-little-number glory days, b
ut I still fear my looks might send him running for the hills.
 
It’s silly and neurotic and I know it.
 
It’s also unfair to even consider that something as fleeting as youthful physical beauty could in any way alter Alex’ feelings.
 
Still, my insecurities are screaming.
 
But I‘m getting there, albeit at Daphne’s pace.

The first morning David and Mom are g
one, Alex and I chat on speaker
phone, which we’ve not done in ages.
 
Sadly, I must cut our time short.
 
I have a show the next day and still have not even thought of the topic yet, merely listing ‘Theme:
Surprise’ on my website.
 
I have really been slacking at work, though my primary sponsor, Siren School, has never been happier with the show, calling my mom’s involvement a ‘stroke of genius.’
 
Begrudgingly, I bid Alex goodbye, promising to come back as soon as the show is planned.
 
I head to the kitchen for a cup of Empress vanilla tea and hear a welcome ping alerting me to a Facebook message.
 
Surely it can’t be from Alex.
 
We just said goodbye.
 
But secretly, I hope it is.

8:42am

Alexander Armstrong

You know, my siren and muse, if you were here right now, in the flesh, before I let you have space to do your work I'd have you straddle me, and wrap your legs and arms around me, and take you in my arms, and kiss you long, and sweetly and passionately. I'd pull your body into me with my strong arms, feel your nipples tickle my chest, kiss your neck, your breasts, tug you against my rising body with my hands on your ass, mashing our bodies together. And I'd savor your skin and mouth and all of you until we were both ready to tear ea
ch other's clothes off. And then
I'd let you work, in anticipation of even more attention that I'd lavish on you later. Giving you something to look forward to, and for me to look forward to, while we both smiled, working, even more motivated to complete our tasks so we could savor each other with abandon
,
later in the day. TTYS The only possible response that I can have to you, My Love, is love. Je t'adore.

Ugh!
 
How on earth am I supposed to concentrate on work after that?
 
I try thinking of every awful and sobering image that will take my mind off my loins:
 

The Titanic
...

The burning of the Library at Alexandria
…

Dead puppies!
 

There, that does the trick.
 
I give Persephone a doggie treat
,
just because, and knuckle down to work.
 
Within a short time, I’m all done with show prep, and feeling mightily triumphant, I share a photo of a lion on my Facebook wall that has as its caption a beloved Whitman quote from Leaves of Grass:

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,

I sound my barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world.

And with that
,
I snap my laptop closed, grab my iPhone
and get ready to go for a walk –
something I never do.
 
But this is just the time of year for it.
 
I lace up my trekking shoes, throw on a coat, flip my collar up, pull o
n my beret and head out.
 
I’ve had
a sublime ten minutes alone with nature when my phone buzzes.

ALEX:
 
Rawrrrrrrrrr!!!!!

Ha!
 
I take it he’s seen my Facebook post.

ALEX:
 
Come over here and take off my clothes and lick the salt from my body, Cariña.

ME:
 
YES!!!!!!!!!!!
 
I would love that.
 
How do you always know just what to say?

ALEX:
 
Because I love you.

ME:
 
Huh.......... and I
thought it was cuz you're perfect ;D

ALEX:
 
The only thing perfect about me, is you.