The Vicarage Bench Anthology (14 page)

“You lied to me! You told me you couldn’t see!” Incensed, she spit the words out, speaking aloud for the first time in their acquaintance. Her hair whipped around her head, leaving wispy strands to cover a portion of her face. Her eyes shot bullets of rage that would have splintered the glass if not for the fact that the look had no substance and only mirrored her emotions, which came through to him clearly. She was wildly furious and, in her anger, a glorious sight to behold.

“I told you I didn’t have eyes. It’s the truth. I can only see through yours.” He didn’t have the ability to answer out loud unless she allowed it, so his words entered her mind in the most soothing tone she’d ever heard him use.

“Oh, God! I never thought.” She covered her eyes to block his sight and to hide the forming tears.

“Carrie, I’ve never lied to you, and I’m telling you as a man—well, at least from a man’s point of view—you are truly beautiful. Your body is lovelier than that of many of the showgirls in Las Vegas, and you should be proud of your beauty, not ashamed of nature’s gifts.”

Her only answer was a moan.

“I’ve never felt so inadequate, so helpless. Carrie, if you could only look at me, you would see that I’m telling you the truth… I’ve got it! Close your eyes. Please, Sweetheart.”

They were still closed from the agony of her unveiling, from her discovery that he’d watched every sensual move she’d made. She thought maybe she’d never open them again.

Slowly, a feeling started to flood through her. He was allowing her to feel his innermost thoughts. He completely opened himself to her, and she knew at once he had spoken the truth. Her breath caught. She bit her lip. She grabbed the sink to stop herself from falling to the floor as waves of desire overcame all her senses.

“You’re beautiful.”

“No one has ever said that to me before.”

“Have you never been with a man? No, don’t answer. I can tell you haven’t.”

“Is it nice, making love?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘nice’ is the word I’d use—it’s more like incredible pleasure or satisfaction, even fulfillment. ‘Nice’ doesn’t do the act justice.”

She yearned to be pleasured and satisfied and even fulfilled. She understood he could sense that, because she’d opened as much to him as he had to her.

“I can show you. Let me, Carrie—please let me show you. Go to your room and lie down on your bed. Close your eyes and give yourself to me.”

She did as he asked. Leaving her nightgown draped over her chair, she crawled naked into her virgin bed.

His words filled her mind. “You’re breathtaking, Carrie.”

Her heart pumped quickly, and each gulp of air she inhaled through open lips became quivery and formed into soft moans. Heat saturated and warmed every crevice of her body, from the tips of her clenched fingers to the bottoms of her feet. Anticipation quickened inside her. A hot fullness in her lower body had her clenching and unclenching her inner muscles, while moving, undulating, gasping. The smooth coldness of the cotton sheets absorbed some of the heat but couldn’t keep up as the waves built.

She whispered inwardly. “What are you doing to me? Where are these sensations coming from? They’re indescribable. I can hardly breathe.”

“I’m making love to you in the purest way two people can. The vibrations of exhilaration I’m creating are flowing through your mind and being experienced by your body. This is the utopia of desire. The flesh isn’t love’s true medium—the spirit experiences at a much higher level. Close your eyes and feel me feeling you.”

“Oh, my God! I can! I do!” She felt him everywhere at once. Delight skimmed over every inch of her trembling body. Her breathing quickened, straining through her open lips. Soft whimpers gave evidence that her insides were on fire.

Not understanding what was happening to her, she became alarmed and struggled to shut down her body’s responses.

“Stop it. Stop fighting me. Come with me, Carrie. Let me love you.”

“Yes, oh, yes. Please.” Her panic receded and again her excitement increased. She didn’t know why she begged or for what, but she wanted whatever “it” was more than her next breath. Her brain twirled flashes of lights and her skin felt ultra-sensitive as she quickly lost all control.

Sweat pooled over her writhing body and the strong smell of fresh line-hung bed linen faded. Only sensations existed. Her breasts were responding, growing, aching. Her lower body pulsated while her flesh vibrated with desire. The anticipation built until it took over and captured her in indescribable passion.

“You’re mine.” His whisper drove her body upwards. “I’m yours.” And she was driven over. The climax ripped through and pleasured her from the top of her sweat-soaked head to the ends of her curling toes.

She’d felt heat and passion and love, but there was a missing equation. She was alone. A sob broke from her quivering lips.

“Rhett, I wanted you to be here with me.”

“I was with you, for every single moment. I sensed everything you were feeling, my love. I’ve never experienced anything more incredibly emotional in my entire life. I can truly understand—when it comes to being alive, the body is just the outer shell. Our inner core is where the power truly exists, inside you, where I am. I swear it’s the truth.”

“I was constantly aware of you, but I’d have liked to have touched you and been touched by you, with your arms and lips, with your body next to mine.” Her shy acknowledgements disarmed and pleased him.

“My love for you exceeds my need for your physical body. But it’ll happen soon. Trust me! We will be together. Sleep now, baby. Let yourself enjoy the aftermath, so you can drift off into dreamland, where I’ll be waiting for you.”

Surprisingly enough, she did dream of him that night—vivid, intense dreams where the two of them pleasured each other over and over again, insatiably, all night long.

Chapter Eight

The next morning Carrie slept in. By the time Gran woke her, it was far too late to stop at the hospital before class.

Loneliness consumed her. After their wonderful night of lovemaking, Rhett went missing. He had shut himself off. When she tried to contact him or coax him to be with her, he stayed surprisingly silent.

The day crawled along. She yearned for it to end so she could visit the hospital and see for herself the body of the man who was her lover. She’d believed him when he told her lovemaking made one feel satisfied and fulfilled, but he had been wrong, terribly wrong. It was a miracle, a glorious miracle. The pleasure she’d felt was indescribable, way beyond those two mundane words.

Finally, arriving at the hospital, Carrie spied Nurse Freise sorting and stacking her charts. Carrie tiptoed past. She didn’t want to be held up and kept away from Rhett. She hurried to his bedside.

The room was cleaned out.

His bed was unoccupied.

He was gone.

Carrie buckled. Her legs turned to rubber. Inside her a hammer was beating her heart to a pulp. If not for the nearby chair, she would have ended up on the floor in a pool of misery, like a rag doll flung aside.

All day she’d felt empty and alone. Now, seeing this barren, deserted space she jumped to the worst possible conclusion. She couldn’t bear it. Pain rolled through her in waves, the agony searing her soul.

“My God! Carrie, don’t. I’m here, Sweetheart. I can’t do it. I can’t leave you like this.”

“Rhett! You’re still alive. How could you let me believe you were gone? You bastard! You scared the devil out of me.” An overwhelming life force flowed back into place and mended her broken spirit. “Where did you go? I called for you all day, and you never let on. Don’t ever frighten me like that again. I prayed you’d left because you were back in your own body.”

“I know, my love. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, closing myself off from you. But I knew I had to stay away. Early this morning, I began to realize exactly what I was asking. The unfairness of expecting your love to last, if I’m not able to function as an ordinary male. If I remain open to you, you’ll never move on. Never have a normal life. I care about you too much to keep you tied to a relationship with no physical possibilities. I wanted you to have your chance to find love with a fellow who can hold you in his arms and one day give you children.”

“Oh, Rhett, I don’t want anyone else. Can’t you understand that? No one else has ever made me feel the things you do. I love you.”

“Carrie, I’m not a very nice person. I’m not kind and honorable like you. I’ve used people and never cared who got hurt. I’ve no pity in me for others less fortunate; I don’t even see them. Since living with your warmth, your caring for others and the love you pass out so freely, I feel ashamed. I’m a cad with women, a jerk to my employees, I have no patience with stupidity and I’m an unforgiving family man. You deserve much better.”

“I don’t want better. I want you.”

“Thanks, I think.” His droll spark of fun brought a smile to join the relief on her face.

“Rhett, you are a good man. You’ve taught me about human nature. To open my eyes and see people as they really are and not how I want to see them. From you I’ve learnt that I’m every person’s equal and I can demand to be treated respectfully. Most of all, you’ve shown me the beauty of love between a man and a woman, and I want to feel it again and again, but with you. Only with you.”

“Well, sugar, then I guess we’d better find out where I am. Sounds strangely bizarre put like that, doesn’t it?” He chuckled at his own joke.

She giggled in reaction. It was an emotional valve, like the one used in a steam cooker before there’s a chance of it blowing up. “I’ll go and find Nurse Freise.”

The disconcerted nurse faltered when Carrie approached. Her head bent down for a second as if to beg for help from a hidden source. Her shoulders lifted as her resolve strengthened. She put both hands on her desk and pushed herself upwards.

“My dear, I’m most terribly sorry for the way things worked out. Such a shame!”

“Where is Mr. Parks, nurse?”

“Mr. Parks’ brother flew in yesterday morning. He got permission from the doctors to move his brother and took him back to America on the evening flight. Seems he was in a hurry to get back to Vegas to keep the family business afloat until such time as his brother wakes up. A truly strange phenomenon indeed, Mr. Parks was. Had all the specialists scratching their heads—except that is, for our own Dr. Andrews.”

“Dr. Andrews?” Carrie’s ears perked up, listening to the nurse’s chatter.

“Psychiatry is his field of expertise, and he’s quite brilliant. He consults on many unusual cases. He became very insistent that I pass on his card and impress on you, Miss Temple, how imperative it is for you to call on him. He wishes to speak with you personally. His instructions were for you to see him at his office, which is in his home. You’re to go there at any time convenient to yourself. Bless my soul; the man was adamant that you seek him out. If you wish to use the telephone here, I’m sure it would be acceptable, under the circumstances.”

“You’re most kind, nurse, thank you so much.”

“Not at all, dearie.”

The older woman’s sharp scrutiny had noticed the telltale signs of tears on Carrie’s cheeks, and Carrie appreciated the nurse’s compassion.

Soon after Carrie called the doctor, she was ringing the doorbell at Dr. Andrews’ house. While she waited, she felt an uplifting of spirits, a flow of positive thinking that came along with her habit of looking on the bright side of every situation.

“Your cheeriness is driving me crazy. Why are you so happy?”

“Why are you so negative? Rhett, have some faith in Dr. Andrews. He has wonderful credentials. This is 1967, not the middle ages. Psychiatry has become an accepted form of medicine today and has helped many people.”

“Right. Crazy people. These guys are all a bunch of shysters. My stepmother has been fleeced for years by a psychiatrist and, if anything, he’s made her meaner and nastier than ever.”

“I’m sure there are charlatans in every branch of medicine, but what do we have to lose? He’s the only professional person who has shown any interest in your situation, and until we hear what he has to say, I want to feel good about it.”

“Fine! We’ll talk to him, but afterwards, I’m afraid, we’ll need to make travel arrangements. You have to take me to Vegas, as my strength seems to be waning, maybe because my body is so far away.”

“Rhett, what a right pair of idiots we are. Of course there’d be a difference. But how can we travel? I don’t have any money, and I need to work. And what about the Poppets? However can I leave them?”

Just then the door opened and a studious-looking, middle-aged man stepped out and reached for Carrie’s hand. “Hello, my dear. I’m Dr. Andrews. You must be Miss Temple.” The doctor’s bifocals were perched halfway down his nose, and he peered over them to assess the woman in front of him. “I believe you were with young Mr. Parks when the unfortunate incident occurred.”

“Yes, I’m Carrie Temple. I’m very relieved you could see me today.” Her instinctive trust for this man had her relaxing instantly.

“Please, come into my office and take a seat.” He led her into a spacious older home sparkling with cleanliness and order. Carrie thought vaguely he must have a housekeeper or a wife to look after him.

“What if he keeps it this way all by himself?” Rhett couldn’t help but point out the possibility.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I stand corrected. Well, I would stand if I had any legs.”

“That’s why we’re here.”

“May I offer you a cup of tea or a glass of sherry?”

“No, thank you, Dr. Andrews. Why did you wish to see me so urgently?”

“I want you to explain exactly what occurred on the day Mr. Parks blacked out. It’s imperative you not forget anything. I need to know, in sequence, everything, absolutely everything, that happened.” So saying, he sat in a comfy brown leather chair across from her and picked up a writing tablet and a pencil.

Carrie told him about walking towards the unsmiling man and feeling taken aback by the grumpy look he’d given her when she smiled at him.

“He made me so nervous that as I cut the rose to bring to my Gran I unexpectedly pricked my finger. I felt a bit uncomfortable, almost faint, for a moment. I remember I sat down on the same bench, next to Mr. Parks, and if I’m not mistaken I dropped the rose and he picked it up. I rather think he may have pricked his finger also, because he flinched and then dropped it. That’s the last thing I remember him doing before he stiffened and fell over.”