14. Joey
14
Joey
I stare at my flushed face, my swollen lips, and can hardly recognize the woman in the mirror. All I can think is wow . The intensity of what I just experienced makes me wonder if it’s always like this—this hot—between two people in the throes of lovemaking.
On the rare occasions when men have tried to kiss and touch me, I’ve only felt awkward and embarrassed. I’ve never let go enough to be in the throes. With Brent I lost my mind. It was hot and perfect between us. So much more than I ever imagined, and we haven’t even gotten to the rest of it yet.
Needing to cool down, I splash water on my face and dry it off. I stroke my hands down the front of my body in a futile attempt to smooth out the wrinkles in my dress. A moan escapes me when my palms go over the tips of my breasts, still tight and sensitive—and he has yet to touch them. What will it be like when he does? My thighs clench at the thought.
And the words he’d uttered—beautiful, powerful, seductive words. My heart had melted at them, spoken in that deep, sexy voice I love. So had the place between my legs, before he’d even touched me. And after…
I need to get a grip or I’m going melt into a puddle right here in his powder room. Taking it in for the first time, I notice it’s twice the size of my own full bath. His master bath is probably the size of my entire apartment.
I take a deep, fortifying breath prior to leaving the bathroom. A movement on the terrace brings my attention to Brent. He’s leaning against the wide metal balustrade, waiting for me. I go through the sliding door he left open and join him, keeping my gaze on the view of the city splayed before us. Lights sparkle around the long, dark rectangle that is Central Park.
My brain can’t come up with a thing to say. My thoughts are all over the place. I focus on the lights of the building at the other end of the park and try to clear my mind. Staring out into the night, I decide to make more time to explore the city. It’s less than a half hour away by train, with so much to do. My dream is to move here and open my own practice, but I’m afraid that will always remain a dream. Between my school loans and the astronomical Manhattan rent, I doubt I’ll ever be able to afford it.
Brent breaks the silence. “I got rid of CJ. You okay?”
I peek up at him shyly and then back down again. I nod, the best I can do with my thoughts a jumbled mess and my body on fire.
Taking my hand, he leads me to a cushioned bench under the pergola, gently tugging me to sit beside him. With one hand still holding mine, he uses the other to nudge my chin so I’m facing him. When I meet his gaze, he drops his hand to enfold mine with both of his. His thumb caresses my knuckles.
His soulful eyes always make him appear serious, except when he laughs. He’s not laughing now. Is he having second thoughts about us?
“Joey,” he says with such hesitance it makes me nervous. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you asked, the night at the club. You were drunk, but deep down, did you mean it? You know… in vino veritas .”
I drop my gaze to our clasped hands, not knowing what to say. Yes, I’d meant it. For years, I’ve wanted him to be the one. I’d just never had the guts to voice that want.
Talking about it when not drunk—or burning up with need—is a different story. It makes things too rational, gives too much time for second thoughts.
He continues when I stay silent. “There’s no denying we’re attracted to one another. And it’s complicated with you working for the team soon. But if we both understand from the beginning this is just a one-time thing, I think we can do this without any repercussions. You know what I’m saying?”
“I think so.” My voice is quiet, knowing exactly what he’s saying.
“No, I need you to be sure. Let me be clear. You want to lose your virginity, and I want to fuck you.”
I gasp at his crude bluntness and try to pull my hand away from his hold. Why am I offended when it’s what I asked for?
Brent exhales loudly and releases my hand, running his own through his hair as he stands. “You’re right. This is a bad idea. You’ve been a part of the family for a long time, and I don’t want anything to threaten that. We shouldn’t—”
I jump up, filled with a sudden panic. He can’t change his mind now!
“What, you’re giving up that easily?”
I’m not sure who’s more surprised by my boldness. Where did it come from all of a sudden? Self-consciousness flickers briefly, but I squash it with determination and continue. “You’re right. We should have this conversation ahead of time. If we do this, we need to go into it with our eyes open and no misunderstandings. After all, we’ll be encountering each other for the rest of our lives. We’ll keep this…transactional. I understand. You just caught me by surprise. It’s not how I expected…I never…”
I trail off, confused at the thoughts racing through my mind. Despite my distrust of men and relationships, I guess deep down, a part of me had pictured romance when losing my virginity—candles, flowers, soft music. Or maybe a heat-of-the-moment thing. Not a clinical conversation that makes it perfectly clear romance has no part in this.
Though it takes every iota of courage I have, I hold his gaze. I hope that none of what I’m thinking is reflected in my eyes as he looks back at me intently, trying to read my thoughts. “You’ve apparently thought this out, so I’d like a little time to think about it too,” I conclude. “Can I let you know?”
I think of nothing else on the way home to Jersey City as I ride in the car Brent called for me, but it’s useless. My thoughts keep going around in circles. I wish I could talk to Charlie about it. And my second favorite person to talk to is his mother—definitely not the person for this conversation.
Neither is my landlady, a kind but nosy Indian woman who insists I call her Aunty. As I pull up to the curb in front of the house, she’s peering through the screen door at the top of the steps. My own entrance is a few steps below ground level, the studio apartment in her basement.
I wave to her, hoping she doesn’t come out to chat. Once she starts, it could be a while before she winds down, and I need time alone. Hurrying inside, I close the door and lean against it, feeling a little like Cinderella after the ball as I look around my home of the last seven years.
It was cheaper than living in the dorms and the right size for me at the time. But I’ve felt like the walls are getting a little closer every time I step inside. It doesn’t help that I’ve been spending time at Brent’s place, the complete opposite of mine in every way.
My heart skips a beat as I think of the intimacy we shared and the blunt words after. As I brush my teeth and shower in the tiny bathroom, I think of the consequences if I say yes. And God, I want to say yes so badly.
As I turn off the lamps on the way to my “bedroom,” a space I’ve sectioned off by hanging a pretty curtain to hide my bed and dresser, I decide to call Andi. She’s another stray who has become a part of the Hutchinson family. Sandra and Stevie took her in just after Charlie and I went to college and Georgie left to pursue her dreams. Over the years we’ve become friends. There’s more to her past than she’s told me and Charlie, but she’s confided some of the issues she had with her own self-image when she was a carrot-topped adolescent and being bullied by the mean girls. I bet those girls would be jealous of her gorgeous mahogany curls if they could see her today.
“Hey, Joey! How’s it going?”
“I’m good. But how are you able to pick up the phone on the first ring when you have a growing boy and a growing business?”
Andi laughs. “Because I’m done with work for the day and the kid is asleep. My trusty companion, Charliesung, is the only one to distract me as I lie in bed. How pathetic is that?”
“Are you calling me pathetic? Because I’m here alone with my LG,” I tell her, referring to my smartphone.
“Ooh, Elle. Tell me about her. And when did you switch to the other team?”
“She’s a beauty,” I tell her, playing along. “A lot faster than my last one, who got too old to get the job done.”
Andi laughs again. I smile and think how lucky I am that I have strong women around as role models. She’s about a year older than me but has already opened her own clothing boutique in Greenwich while raising a son on her own. And she does it with a joyous laugh that makes everyone who hears it smile.
“Okay, tell me what’s going on, honey?”
I sigh. “I need your advice, but you have to swear not to tell anyone, including Charlie.”
“I swear. Now tell me.”
I pour out my confused thoughts, starting with the drunken proposal and ending with Brent’s offer to fulfill my request. Andi must have developed the patience of a saint from raising a little boy because she doesn’t say a word until I’m done.
“Are you finished? Is that it?” she asks when I stop talking.
“I think that’s enough, don’t you?”
“Well, here’s what I didn’t hear. What are your feelings for him? And how do you think you’ll manage afterward, meeting him all the time at family gatherings?”
“With your magical powers of intuition, I think you know how I feel.”
“Right. So how about the last part?”
I answer honestly. “I don’t know.”
“Then think about that before you decide. Remember what Mama Sandra always says. It’s the things you don’t do—”
“—that you’ll regret the most in life,” I finish with her. And if you do regret something you did, it’s a lesson from which to grow. “How did you become so wise?”
“Why, from Mama Sandra—and a kid who likes to ask a bajillion questions and won’t stop until he’s satisfied with the answer,” she says with a laugh.
“Well, thank goodness for both of them. Give that awesome kid of yours a kiss from me. With the new job, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come over to visit you two. I’m sorry you weren’t able to make it to the memorial.”
“Yeah, we were sorry to miss it. My one and only employee called in sick. But…good thing we have our trusty electronic companions to help us stay in touch until then. Call me anytime. I’m here for you.”
“Thanks, Andi.”
“Anytime, hon. I love you. Good night!”
Andi hangs up before I can reply. It’s always awkward saying those three little words to anyone, no matter how much I love them. Hugs weren’t the only things missing in my childhood. But those closest to me, few as they are, know how much I care for them, though I rarely express it verbally.
Except Charlie. She used to demand I say the words back, tickling me until I did. Exposure therapy, she called it. Thinking of my nutty best friend makes me smile, and then frown as I remember our conversation a few days ago. I send her a text.
ME: Hi, Charlie. Everything ok?
She texts me back as I climb into bed.
CHARLIE: All good. It’s been crazy busy. You’re good?
ME: I’m fine.
I cringe at the lie. I’m anything but fine as I consider having a one-night stand with her brother.
ME: Did you make it to the pharmacy?
CHARLIE: Yes, don’t worry
ME: Would you have your one-night stand again, if you had to do it over?
CHARLIE: In a heartbeat. But with a trip to the pharmacy BEFORE!
She adds some emojis, including an eggplant.
CHARLIE: Gotta go. Love you
ME: Love you too
So much easier to text the “L” word.
Sandra’s mantra is on my mind as I go to bed, knowing deep down I’ve already made my decision. Still, I toss and turn most of the night, falling asleep near dawn and waking with a start a couple of hours later, with that panicked sensation of having missed my alarm. I relax back into my pillows when I realize it’s Saturday and I no longer work on weekends. Years of working every weekend are still ingrained in me.
My thoughts turn immediately to Brent. Before I lose my nerve, I grab my phone and fire off a text.
ME: Yes, I understand the rules.
Since it’s still early, I don’t expect a response right away, but my phone dings a minute later.
brENT: What are you doing this weekend?
I try not to read too much into the text.
ME: Not much. Chores. Homework.
The three dots bounce forever before a text comes through.
brENT: Great. Want to take a quick trip to San Diego? I’m leaving soon, and I can have you back whenever you need to be.
Wow. Okay. Looks like we’re going to move at light speed. My heart thuds hard against my chest.
Wait. What would my role be on this trip? Am I going as his physical therapist? If not, will he…will we…?
And a “quick” trip across the country? It takes almost a day to reach the West Coast, between travel to and from the airport and getting through security…
I grab my pillow and put it over my face before letting out a scream of frustration. Ugh. I’m overthinking this.
No way am I asking him about his intentions outright. I’m just going to have to go all in and make the jump with both feet. I haven’t felt this nervous about a decision since the one I made to go live with the Hutchinsons rather than my father after my mother’s death. But just as I did back then, I know what I want.
Removing the pillow from my face, I send another text.
ME: Sure. What should I pack?
I start to clarify and ask him what he has planned so I can pack accordingly, but he texts back first.
brENT: Nothing is fine by me, but if you insist on sightseeing, I suppose some clothes would be good.
I blush. There goes any doubt as to his intentions. Another ding.
brENT: Whatever makes you comfortable. We’re staying at my beach house. Leaving from Teterboro. I’ll pick you up in an hour.
Teterboro? He must have chartered a private jet if we’re leaving from the small New Jersey airport. Then his full message sinks in.
An hour? I jump out of bed.