Denial (23 page)
Amy eyed the buttons to her left. After a few seconds thrumming her fingers, she decided to press one. She laughed in surprise when the swirl changed into jettisons of water.
Sitting in the hotel bathtub, Amy pressed all the buttons several times over, completely tickled by the change in the swirl of the water. Eventually, she sank back into the froth of suds and relaxed into the gentle swirl. Exhaling slowly, she decided that it was about time they upgraded the bathtub at home.
Picking up the soap, an image of Celeste dropped in her mind and she blushed. Amy still couldn’t believe that she almost kissed Celeste last Sunday. Soaping her breasts, she accepted that it was now riskier to keep Celeste at arm’s length than to try to sort out what was happening between them. Pooling some bubbles in her hand, she reassured herself that she had done the right thing by coming to New York with Celeste. Although they hadn’t discussed anything yet, this trip was all about sorting things out.
Blowing bubbles out of her hand, Amy thought about their arrival this morning. She squirmed as she recalled the relief she felt when the clerk handed them separate keys. Bringing her toes to the surface, she wiggled them, then sunk further into the tub, embarrassed that she hadn’t fully trusted Celeste when she said she wanted this weekend to talk.
Pressing a button for more hot water, Amy reflected on her day. After checking in, they went shopping. They found an art store and Celeste waited patiently as Amy thumbed her way through the stock before leaving with a bag of supplies.
Celeste, she discovered, knew a lot about art.
Given the amount of traveling she’d done over the years that seemed natural. After the art store they stopped for coffee. Probably for the first time, Amy realized, she was getting to know who Celeste was and she was intriguing.
When they returned to the hotel after six, Amy stood outside her room door and smiled at Celeste’s light teasing that they needed to be ready for seven sharp. They were seeing a show, then going for something eat.
Amy slipped off her shoes and entered the bathroom. She smiled; the bathtub was huge.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d opted for a bath instead of a shower.
Reaching for the shower knob, she decided that she didn’t have time now, but then hesitated. The urge to soak was too strong. Impulsively, she pressed the stopper down and ran the hot water.
Humming, Amy undressed. Eying the various bath salts as the tub filled, she tied her hair up. Stepping into it, she groaned as she luxuriated in the enormous tub. Sinking in, she inhaled the smell of the herbal-scented suds.
Relaxing, Amy closed her eyes and laid her head back and thought, just a few minutes.
Amy’s eyes flew open. Sitting bolt upright, she looked around. Dazed, it took a few moments for her brain to register where she was, and a few more for her to figure out what the noise was that woke her.
Brrr…brrr…Brrr...brrr.
“Shit…the phone!”
Amy shot out of the tub. Soaking wet, she skidded as she hurried toward the phone. Just as she picked it up, a side door opened.
Amy’s eyes almost popped out of her head when Celeste walked in to the room.
“I heard the phone ring,” Celeste said, looking Amy over. “I thought that you must have fallen asleep.”
Unaware there was a connecting door, Amy flushed all over. It took a moment for her to figure out where the distant voice was coming from. Remembering that someone was on the line, she quickly put the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” Amy squeaked.
“Hi, Amy?”
Realizing she was naked, Amy’s face burned bright red. “Hi…Josh!”
Frantically, Amy scanned the room for something to cover herself. She eyed her weekend bag at the far end of her room. There was nothing.
“Everything okay, honey?”
If you consider standing naked and dripping wet in front of your always-amorous sister okay, then I’m definitely not okay
.
Amy tugged hard on the bedspread. “Yes…” she said, grunting. “Yes. Everything’s okay.”
“I couldn’t reach you on your cell.”
Tucked firmly under the mattress, the bedspread refused to budge. “It’s…in my purse… so I didn’t…hear it. How’s…things…with…you?” Amy puffed.
Celeste moved toward the bathroom.
“Fine,” Josh replied then asked, “Honey, have you been running?”
“No,” Amy wheezed. “I’m…just…trying…to…get…ready.”
“We’re missing you,” Josh said, sounding confused that his wife was panting. “Here I’ll let you speak to Chris.”
Approaching Amy, Celeste stood in front of her with a bath towel.
Amy grabbed the towel then stepped back. She let out a silent yelp when the bedside cabinet jabbed her leg. Clutching the towel, she mumbled her thanks and unintentionally looked Celeste over. Her dress sense was impeccable. Usually, she wore her hair in a ponytail, but tonight, it was down. Its length made it curl slightly as it fell around her shoulders.
Amy caught her bottom lip. Celeste’s expensive white linen trouser suit and camisole top looked stunning.
God, she, really does have an incredible body—lean, sleek, full-breasted
. Amy gulped. Her eyes widened when she saw the camisole Celeste was wearing was almost sheer. Pulse rising, she swallowed. Aware that there was no way she would get through the evening with that as a distraction, she held the towel tightly and said, “Shouldn’t…you…button that?”
Celeste looked down and smiled. “Yes,” she replied. “I was about to when the phone rang.”
Relieved, Amy forced herself to focus when she heard her son’s voice.
“Hi, Mommy,” Christopher said. His voice trembled. “Mac bwit me!”
Wondering why Josh hadn’t mentioned this earlier, Amy frowned. “Are you all right, baby?”
Celeste motioned to her watch.
Tensing, Amy ignored her.
“Yesth,” Christopher replied, his lispy voice sounding brave. “But it urts.”
Concerned, Amy reassured. “It’s okay, baby. When Mommy gets back, she’ll kiss it all better. Okay?”
Christopher sniffled, but didn’t reply.
“Sweetheart, is Daddy there?” Amy asked. She could hear slight rustling as he nodded. She imagined him standing there with a little pouted lip, miffed that his mommy wasn’t there to soothe him. She asked again, “Chris, can you pass the phone to Daddy?”
Christopher said nothing.
Aware that Christopher didn’t want to give up the phone, Amy said tenderly “Chris, can I speak to Daddy? Just for a moment, then I’ll come right back to you, baby, I promise. I just need to speak to him quickly.”
Christopher sniffed. “Okay, Mommy.”
“Amy, honey, it’s nothing,” Josh said reassuringly. “Mac nipped him because Chris,” he said sternly, obviously directing his next words to their son, “would not stop pulling on his tail! Even though he was told to stop.” Josh added softly, “Amy, don’t worry about it. The reason I didn’t mention it was because there wasn’t a mark and he didn’t even make a peep. This is the first I’ve heard out of him all day about it.” He chuckled. “Chris is looking for sympathy, honey, and he knows right where to get it.”
Immediately, the tension left Amy. She smiled at Celeste’s frowning face reassuringly. “Okay, that’s a relief,” she replied. “Can I speak to him again?”
Waiting for Josh to pass the phone back to Christopher, Amy knew that she needed to distract her son from focusing on her being away. “Hi, Chris, Mommy needs you to be a brave boy, just like you always are, and look after Daddy. Do you think you can manage that? It’s a big responsibility, but I know you can do it.”
Amy smiled confidently at Celeste and waited for his response. Christopher loved nothing better than being told he was a brave boy.
“Okay, Mommy,” Christopher replied quickly.
When she heard the tinge of pride in his voice at being given the task, Amy winked at Celeste.
Celeste raised an eyebrow then tilted her head inquiringly.
Completely disarmed that such a small movement was so charming. Amy felt lost when her body responded hotly.
Celeste lifted her hand, and tapping her watch, showed Amy that it was six forty-five. Amy nodded, then put her head down to stop any further distraction. She spoke to her son. A few moments later, she lifted her head when the connecting door closed.
Amy chatted with Christopher, then Ryan briefly, and said goodbye to Josh. Quickly dressing, she applied some light makeup then let her hair fall around her shoulders. Her black, thinly strapped dress hung just below the knee and accentuated the fullness of her breasts. It hugged the curves of her hips and showed off her shapely tanned legs, which were enhanced by three-inch heels.
Looking in the mirror, Amy gave herself a once-over. Not bad for a mother of two, she thought, as the door clicked shut behind her.
Returning to their rooms, Amy stood in the elevator with Celeste and two strangers. Leaning against the back wall, she closed her eyes and thought how easy being with Celeste truly was. Tonight, they had seen a Broadway production. Amy smiled. She had enjoyed the musical, a rework of an opera she had seen with her dad a few years ago.
Amy’s smile broadened as she remembered seeing the opera in London. She recalled leaving the theater with her dad, so choked with emotion she couldn’t speak through the twenty-minute taxi ride back to their hotel.
Warmed by the memory, Amy dropped her head slightly. Biting lightly on her bottom lip, she thought back to dinner.
The restaurant that Celeste chose, on Fifty-Fourth Street, was a blend of Southeast Asian and French food. The dining area was large and noisy. Amy was secretly pleased when Celeste arranged for a recessed booth, which muted the noise.
They talked easily about the types of food and wine they enjoyed. Amy wasn’t surprised that Celeste had an eclectic taste, given her passion for cooking. When they ordered, she went with Celeste’s recommendation and chose the restaurant’s signature dish.
Amy thought back to their conversation at the restaurant. She remembered how explorative Celeste was with her, drawing her out throughout the evening into conversation. She recalled Celeste’s subtle compliments about her outfit, her hair, her eyes, even her perfume. She wanted to return them, but couldn’t. She was too shy and unused to receiving such sincere compliments from another woman.
To Amy’s surprise, during the meal, she had confided in Celeste that her dad planned that they would travel extensively, visiting every continent and many countries, when Amy finished university.
†
“Vietnam,” Amy told Celeste wistfully, “was one of the countries my dad wanted to visit.”
“You must miss him very much,” Celeste said, lifting her glass of white wine.
Holding the fork to her mouth, Amy looked at her sharply.
Celeste returned her gaze as she sipped her wine.
Amy was unsure if Celeste could ever understand such a loss, then she remembered Felice and realized that Celeste’s own life experience, her work as a doctor with MSF, positioned her perfectly to understand.
“Yes,” Amy replied. Losing her appetite for what had been a delicious dish of lobster with Thai herbs, she put her fork down and pushed the plate away. “Every day,” she added with a note of longing, “I miss him every day.”
Amy wiped her mouth with her napkin.
Celeste put her glass down. Leaning in, she brushed Amy’s cheek lightly with her fingers and said in a low voice, “Tell me about him.”
Amy shrugged. “There is so much to tell.”
Leaning back, Celeste encouraged, “Tell me why he wanted to visit Vietnam?”
Amy hesitated. She looked at Celeste. For the first time, in a long time, she wanted to talk about her father. “He loved Vietnamese architecture,” she replied.
“Why?”
Amy shrugged. “I think, for him, it expressed a combination of natural balance and harmony.”
“I love Vietnamese architecture,” Celeste said softly. Looking into Amy’s eyes, she added, “Did he plan to see the Giac Lam Pagoda in Ho Chi Minh City?”
“Yes,” Amy answered her eyes bright. “That was the one he intended visiting on our trip to Vietnam.”
“It’s wonderful, Amy,” Celeste said softly. “It’s considered to be the city’s oldest pagoda.”
Celeste’s eyes carried a depth of warmth that lulled Amy. “
I had no idea until today that you were into architecture or art.”
“Yes,” Celeste replied.
“Tell me about your trip to Vietnam.”
Amy’s
appetite returned when Celeste talked about her travels. She listened and was surprised at, not only Celeste’s knowledge of Vietnamese architecture, but the breadth of her knowledge of some of the most treasured architectural sights on the planet.
Amy lost herself when they discussed the treasures they would like to see, from the lavish
Meenakshi Temple in India to the obscure Solovki Monastery in Russia.
Eventually, when there was a lull in the conversation, Celeste said softly, “If we are to do this, Amy, I think we need some conditions.”
Lifting her coffee cup, Amy hesitated before asking, “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Celeste replied, spooning sugar into her cup, “that we both agree on a time limit.”
“Time limit?” Befuddled, Amy slowly put her cup down.
Holding Amy’s gaze, Celeste said patiently, “It must end, Amy. That’s the whole point of this exercise.”
Swallowing, Amy repeated, “Exercise.”
“Affair, Amy,” Celeste replied, as if clearing up a mystery.
Amy shook her head. “But it hasn’t even started—”
“—It has,” Celeste said, her eyes shining. She added, almost soothingly, “Amy it started a long time ago.”
Amy watched the steam rise from her coffee cup and tried to absorb Celeste’s words. Eventually, she looked at her and asked openly, “You really believe we should do this, don’t you?”
Holding her gaze, Celeste answered, “Yes.”
Amy exhaled. She was in conflict. She was seeing different sides to Celeste and there was no doubt, as this weekend was proving, that she was a complex and multilayered person.
“Why does someone like you,” Amy asked, “who has experienced so much, and who understands the types of adversities that life throws at people—”
“Amy,” Celeste interrupted. “What I do is a job, that’s all.”
Amy shook her head and said firmly, “Oh, I think it’s much more than that, Doctor Cameron.”
Evidently amused by the use of her formal address, Celeste’s lips twitched. “I have the same weaknesses as the next person.”
Looking at Celeste, Amy went for what she hoped was her Achilles heel. She raised her eyebrows and asked, “What about Josh. Do you care about him?”
Celeste’s eyes narrowed. She leaned in. “Of course I care about him.”
“Then, for his sake, don’t you think we should stop this?”
Leaning back, Celeste answered almost wearily, “Do you think we can?” She held Amy’s gaze. “Do you want to have years of this?” she asked. “Do you want it to be knotted in our stomachs whenever we see each other?” Her eyes sparked. “To be there, in every look we exchange, in every accidental touch—” She stopped when Amy lifted her hand to show her wedding ring.
“Regardless,” Amy replied. Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. “I’m married.”
“Do you think that’s enough?”
“I believe in monogamy.”
Celeste arched an eyebrow. “Your beliefs haven’t stopped you so far.”
Amy’s heart thudded. The lines of the poem flashed through her mind, ‘
Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.
’
“In most parts of the world, Amy, sexual desire is a fact of life,” Celeste said, lifting her cup. “In some cultures, people aren’t expected to suppress their needs. Desire is an acceptable part of being alive. In societies where power tends to pass through women, women sleep with whomever they want. However, in more developed cultures, especially when it comes to property, the rules become more one-sided.”
Listening, Amy unconsciously fixed a dress strap that had slid down a shoulder.
Celeste paused for several seconds. “Property is generally passed through the male lineage, and because it’s important to know who the father of a child is, from a property perspective, men tend to continue being promiscuous and women tend to be guarded…sexually.”
“Look, Celeste, I understand that you might have a different perspective on things, given your exposure to different cultures, but whatever you say still doesn’t normalize it for me.” Amy frowned.
“We’re living in the twenty-first century, and I buy into monogamy.”
Looking closely at Amy, Celeste said, vulnerably, “All I want is for this ache to stop.”
Surprised, Amy blushed.
“I want it to stop. It’s draining me, Amy.” She leaned back. “I can’t think straight. It has to change, because the real truth is, I don’t want years of this.”
They stared at each other.
Amy took a drink. “Given time, it will die.”
Celeste shook her head. “This type of attraction doesn’t die.” She looked at Amy. “Emotions are complex. People can take to their grave feelings for their unrequited first crush.”
“Shucks, I’m your first crush?”
Celeste smiled. “No, but consider it a metaphor for the unrequited.”
Amy held Celeste’s gaze for a long time, then surprised herself by asking, “How can we make it stop?”
Celeste closed her eyes briefly. “Have you heard of the fantasy theory?”
Amy shook her head.
“For a fantasy to exist, desire needs absent objects. Desire can only support itself with fantasies.”
“Meaning what?” Amy asked, intrigued. “That the moment you get something you normally can’t have, you don’t want it anymore?”
Celeste nodded.
Amy thought back to something that she had read somewhere about people only being truly happy when thinking about their future happiness.
How bizarre life really is
?
“So, what you’re saying is that if we were to do this, we would turn desire into reality and lose interest?”
“Yes,” Celeste responded.
Amy exhaled. She caught her bottom lip. Her common sense screamed indignantly,
No
way!
Her baser instincts yelled out hungrily,
yes! Say yes!
Celeste took Amy’s hand. Holding it, she gently stroked the back of it.
Be strong, Amy told herself. You came with her this weekend to end it. So end it. Gazing into Celeste’s eyes, Amy couldn’t. Her skin tingled and her stomach fluttered.
Why can’t you?
Her inner voice answered readily.
You want it to happen as much as she does. You want her. Accept it…you want her bad.
Amy immediately thought of her mother.
I
t won’t make you like that
,
her inner voice appeased.
She
left her family. If you keep the arrangement simple, it will be over before you know it, and you won’t have years of this. You’ll be able to put it behind you, just like you did last time with her.
Looking down, Amy watched Celeste’s thumb stroke the back of her hand. The complete sensuality of her touch ricocheted through her brain.
“I want no emotional involvement,” Amy said. “I don’t want to discuss my relationship with Josh.” Leaning in, she added protectively, “I want it understood there is no future for us.” She swallowed. “Four months, no more.”
Celeste leaned in, and searched her face intently. “Okay,” she replied. “Let’s go.”
†
The elevator silently slid to a halt. Amy pulled herself away from the wall. When the doors opened, Celeste held out her hand. Aware of the stranger still in the elevator, but unable to resist, Amy took it. She walked with Celeste along the corridor.