Falling in Love Page 3

  When I got to Arlene’s house, I rushed up the stairs. As I passed by her bedroom, I saw her light go on. I rushed into my room and closed the door. She didn’t come in after me.

  I laid down on the bed and tried to sleep but instead just tossed and turned, wondering how I was going to face Arlene and what I was going to say to Paul.

  I finally drifted off and it seemed like I’d only been asleep for a few minutes when Arlene knocked on my door without saying a word. “I’m awake,” I said, groggily.

  I showered, trying futilely to wash off the shame. Then I put on a prim black dress and went down to face Arlene. I wanted to talk to her before Paul arrived, hoping to somehow put last night behind us. I planned to tell her that I went out for a pack of cigarettes and got lost and that was why it took me long.

  But when I got down to the kitchen, she had coffee, toast and eggs on the table for me and never said a word. Not one word. This was the same woman who never seemed to stop talking the night before. Now she was coldly silent as she watched a Sunday morning news show on a small TV on the counter.

  When a commercial came on, I said feebly, “Sorry about waking you last night. I went out to get a pack of cigarettes and got lost. That was why I took so long.” My voice was shaky.

  Arlene gave out a low groan but didn’t reply. After awhile, Paul knocked on the front door, let himself in and was all smiles.

  “Good morning, everyone,” he said brightly.

  “Good morning,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.

  “Morning,” uttered Arlene, her first word of the day.

  Paul joined us for a cup of coffee. He did most of the talking, while Arlene and I were mostly silent. Then we left for church.

  Since Paul sang in the choir, he sat at the side of the altar while Arlene and I sat together in the third pew. During the service, her elbow accidentally brushed against me and, as if I were a leper, she actually moved a foot away from me crowding the others in the pew. If Paul noticed it, he didn’t say anything and kept giving me smiles during and between hymns.

  After the service, Paul was still all smiles as we walked out of church. He greeted the Reverend and several parishioners. As we walked down the steps, he glanced at Aunt Arlene and said, “I think we have a new convert.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure,” she retorted. It was the first complete sentence she had uttered since the night before. Paul ignored her comment and asked me, “How would you like to see the most beautiful spot in the county?”

  He dropped off Aunt Arlene and me with instructions for me to change into casual clothes. Afraid to ask Arlene for anything, including the use of her iron, I put on my least wrinkled top and shorts.

  An hour later, Paul returned bearing a lunch basket and drove me to a narrow tree-lined lane. He parked and then led me down a dirt path through a dense thicket of trees of various shades of green until they opened onto a lovely clearing with a sandy beach lining the crystal blue water of Serene Lake that glinted with specks of bright sunlight. I admired the breathtaking surroundings as Paul set down the basket and spread out a blanket.

  “Nice, huh?”

  “Very. It’s beautiful.”

  “I just bought the ten acres all around us. I’m building a dream house here, for me,” he glanced at me, “and someone I love.”

  “That sounds very nice,” I said, smiling.

  Paul set down the basket. “I should have brought my plans. I did them myself. But this will be more fun. Come with me.”

  Paul took my hand and led me back toward the trees, until he stopped and turned around. “What the heck,” he said, “just for fun.” He picked me up and carried me for a big step before setting me down. “We just crossed the front door’s threshold. Actually, it’s probably the back door since I think the front door should be facing the water.”

  Paul walked me through his imaginary house pointing out the various first-floor rooms while noting that the house would be very wide so that almost every room would have a wall of windows facing the water. He then stepped high, leading me up imaginary stairs and with a wink, he showed me the future master bedroom, as well as three other bedrooms “for the children” before taking me back down stairs and out to the future front porch nearly at the water’s edge.

  “So what do you think?” he asked like a boy who had just shown off a new toy.

  “It seems lovely.”

  “Think you’d like to live here?”

  “Who wouldn’t?” I admitted.

  Paul smiled and then spread out a blanket on the future front porch, opened a bottle of expensive-looking wine and poured me a glass. It quickly made me light-headed, partly due to my lack of sleep but also due to the situation. Paul lay down on the blanket and motioned for me to lie next to him. My arm brushed against his and his warmth felt intoxicating.

  Paul offered a toast. “To beautiful places,” he looked at me again, “and to beautiful people.”

  He spread out hors d’oeuvres. He had prepared quite a feast.

  He sipped his wine. “So tell me about yourself.”

  “There isn’t much to tell. What do you want to know?” I asked, suddenly nervous.

  “Everything. Your favorite movie, when you lost your virginity, what your—”

  “—What?” I slapped him on the shoulder. “Do you always ask that question to women you’ve known for one day?”

  “Never,” he admitted.

  “You should keep it that way.”

  “I’ll tell you,” Paul said.

  “Like I want to know?”

  “Don’t you?”

  I wanted to say that I thought it wasn’t any of my business and vice versa but I hesitated too long and Paul said, “Judy Hastings, after the senior prom when we were both blasted. We’d waited three years for it and when it ended up being a backseat bang, we were both so embarrassed, we never spoke again.” He looked silently down toward the ground and then sipped his wine.

  “That’s sad,” I said.

  “The worst part is that I found out later she wasn’t even a virgin. She’d lost it the summer before to some camp counselor.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Then I was engaged in law school,” he went on. “We were going to start a practice together and live happily ever after, until I dropped by her apartment and found her in bed with our Intellectual Properties professor.”

  He spread pâté on a cracker and handed it to me, brushing against my arm. “I always thought I was unlucky with women.” His eyes met mine. “Now I think I just hadn’t met the right one.”

  I smiled weakly. I wanted desperately to be the right woman for him.

  Paul laughed. “Okay, I bore my soul. Tell me about your loves.” He held up his hands. “You don’t have to discuss consummation. Who was first?”

  “My uncle.”

  “What?”

  “I was eight.”

  Paul laughed. “Not some childish crush. Who was your first real love?”

  “Soccer,” I replied. “I loved soccer more than anything.”

  Paul shook his head in disbelief. “You’re telling me that the greatest love of your life was a sport?”

  I nodded. “I really loved it.”

  Paul laughed. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  I laughed, too. “Okay, I loved being the fastest player on the field, being the top scorer, being the best. I loved being the star. Does that make sense?”

  Paul didn’t look convinced but did mention, “I guess I wasn’t a star but I was our high school’s top defensive player.”

  “I only played in junior high,” I admitted. “They wouldn’t let me play in high school.”

  Paul glanced at me. “Why?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Sherry Johnson,” he said softly, “woman of mystery.” Paul didn’t press it. “One day, I guess we will just have to see how good you are, Star, but,” he good-naturedly flicked his finger across my nose, as if scolding me, “no
w, don’t change the subject.”

  I glanced down at the shades of grass in the speckled sunlight. I admitted, “I’m not sure I even know what love is.”

  Paul smiled at me, flashing his perfect teeth. “If that were true, then you could be in love with me right now and not know it.”

  I shrugged. “I suppose.”

  Paul refilled our wine glasses and glanced around. “I think we need some scientific procedure.” He plucked a daisy and began pulling off the petals. “She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me. She loves me not.” He kept going until he was down to “She loves me not” but he only had two petals left. Paul ripped them both off, crying triumphantly, “She loves me!”

  He leaned over and kissed me. His embrace lowered me backward onto the blanket as he kept our lips locked. Paul slid his hand to the side of my breast. I wanted so badly for him to take me right there. Amidst the beauty of that lakeside, I wanted him to make beautiful love to me. But I was worried about what he would think of me. Instead, my arm locked his hand at my side. “Let’s wait,” I said.

  Paul whispered, “For as long as you want.”

  Instead we spent the afternoon, enjoying the wonderful lunch of cheeses, fruits, French bread, local delicacies and a wonderful crème brulee that Paul claimed he had prepared himself. We fed each other grapes and strawberries, held hands and kissed chastely like school children. Then we walked along the lake and Paul told me of the history of Serene Lake.

  After admiring a breathtaking sunset that seemed to shoot flames across the sky, Paul took me to his favorite restaurant, Pete’s Takeout Pizza, a small dive near the beach. The place only had one eat-in table in the corner that we crowded into it and feasted on Pete’s Poppin’ Toppin’s, which was about three inches of everything that seemed possible to put on a pizza as well as some things that seemed impossible. It was delicious.

  By the time that Paul finally brought me back to Arlene’s, promising to pick me up at eight sharp for my first day of work, I was thoroughly and completely in love with him.

  My bliss soon ended when I went inside and had to face Arlene. She was in the parlor, ironing a blouse and didn’t acknowledge my presence. “Good evening,” I said, trying very hard to sound pleasant.

  Arlene didn’t answer.

  “I wanted to apologize about last night,” I said. “I got lost. That’s why I got home so late.”

  Arlene gave me a loathing look. “Sure you did.”

  “Thanks for not mentioning it to Paul.”

  She returned to her ironing. “He wouldn’t listen anyway.”

  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 w
as 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.