Denial (25 page)
Amy clutched the sheet. She looked up. “Celeste, thank you. But honestly, I…I can manage.”
Placing the cloth and towel on the bedside cabinet, Celeste gently tried to remove the sheet from Amy’s grasp. “Trust me,” she said with a glimmer of humor, as Amy held on tight. “I have an excellent bedside manner.”
Amy groaned.
Why didn’t I just have a shower?
In no position to argue after what just happened, she let Celeste pull the sheet down.
Sitting midway down the bed, Celeste reached for the cloth and tenderly washed Amy.
Entranced by the intimacy of Celeste’s actions, Amy watched her use the cloth.
“Did you mean it?”
“What?” Amy asked, slowly relaxing under Celeste’s ministrations.
“That you have never come like that?” Celeste asked, gently toweling Amy dry.
Amy tensed. “I…umm…” Blushing heavily, she struggled to find an answer. How could she explain, that although she was a married, twenty-eight-year-old mother of two, she had never experienced
anything
like that before? “Don’t think so,” she finished quickly.
“I think you would have noticed. Don’t you?” Celeste asked. Finishing, she stood and returned to the bathroom.
Unable to cope with all the strange emotions coursing through her, Amy pulled the sheet up and curled into a fetal position.
Celeste returned and, sitting on the bed, stroked Amy’s hair and asked softly, “Why do you think you’ve never experienced it before?”
Sighing, Amy closed her eyes. “I don’t know,” she answered after a while.
“Did it frighten you?”
Eyes wide, Amy confessed, “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
Celeste’s eyes filled with warmth. “Don’t be scared, Amy,” she said gently. “It’s perfectly okay.”
Amy closed her eyes and sighed. “Why do all doctors say that?”
“What?”
Amy rolled onto her stomach. Burying her head into her pillow, she mumbled.
Celeste laughed. “I don’t have a clue what you just said.”
Amy lifted her head and, looking over her shoulder, said, “Why is it that all doctors say that it’s going to be perfectly okay.” Feeling less unnerved, she teased. “Why does every person in the medical profession have sentences with the word ‘perfect’ in it? She mimicked, “Oh, Mrs. Cameron, don’t worry, although you have two overgrown gremlins stuffed up inside you, it’s fine to be overdue. It’s all perfectly normal.”
Celeste laughed lightly. “Caesarean wasn’t an option then?”
Amy shook her head. “And a big fat bribe didn’t work either.” She smiled. “Mrs. Cameron, you might have been in labor for more than your body can take, but it’s all perfectly fine. And no, we can’t give you more drugs, no matter how much you beg or try to bribe us.”
Celeste grinned. “The boys didn’t want to come out.”
Amy smiled. “Nope. They hung in there until the final hour, and then some.” Yawning, she rubbed her shoulder. “I’m tired.”
Celeste moved closer. “Are your shoulders stiff?”
Amy nodded.
“Let me take care of that.”
Going to the bathroom, Celeste returned with a bottle of lotion. She positioned herself over Amy then pulled the bed sheet down. Straddling her hips, she poured cream down the length of Amy’s spine.
Surprised, Amy yelped at the sudden coldness.
“Feel good?” Celeste asked, running her hands over Amy’s back.
Amy groaned in pleasure.
Celeste smiled as she massaged Amy’s shoulders. She worked the knots at the base of her neck, before running her thumbs up and down her spine.
“When was the last time you had a back massage?”
Amy mumbled, “To long to remember.”
“You should make it a priority. You have great posture but your back is full of tension knots.”
Amy groaned as the tension seeped out of her. “Is that an order, doc,” she asked, then groaned loudly when Celeste worked the knots out from under her right shoulder blade.
“Yes,” Celeste replied, then frowned. “Your muscles are really tight. You need to find time for this.”
Amy winced when Celeste worked at a particular knot. “In case you haven’t noticed,” she said, “I’m a working mum with two little monsters, two hairy dogs, a husband, a cousin who I hardly see because she’s in love. An overworked and overwrought, boss. And, just now, for a while,” she threw a look over her shoulder, “a very demanding you.”
“Shhh,” Celeste responded. She moved Amy’s head to center position then ran her thumbs down her spine again, stretching it. “To enjoy this thoroughly, we need quiet.”
“Expert, are you?” Amy mumbled.
“Mmmm,” Celeste murmured. “Nothing can beat a massage. When I can, I make time for it.”
Amy nodded then relaxed completely.
Celeste worked on Amy’s back for some minutes, then said in a thoughtful tone, as she worked her thumbs into the base of her spine, “I’m sure I can rewrite my brief, and add masseuse, along with lover.”
Amy’s eyes popped open.
Lover!
“You’re stiffening up,” Celeste said. Bending, she kissed between Amy’s shoulder blades. “Try to relax. Let your mind free.”
Not wanting to analyze anything, Amy forced herself to relax, and let her mind drift.
“How does that feel?” Celeste asked after a few minutes.
“Good,” Amy responded drowsily.
“Just good,” Celeste said seductively. “Are you sure?”
Feeling Celeste’s breasts press into her back. Amy replied, “Wonderful.”
Celeste kissed along Amy’s shoulders. “I would like to sleep with you.”
Amy’s body tingled at the idea. But if what had happened earlier was a sign of what was to come, she didn’t think she could cope. This whole thing was still too new. Looking over her shoulder, she stuttered, “I…I…don’t want to do…for us to have…anymore tonight!”
“No.” Kissing Amy’s cheek, Celeste replied reassuringly. “Not to make love. Just share a bed, to hold you.”
Still shocked by what happened earlier and too tired to think coherently Amy clumsily replied, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Sleeping together is…a…an intimacy I want to keep for Josh.”
Celeste’s stiffened then quickly moved off the bed.
Amy rolled over to face her.
Her eyes darkening, Celeste glared at Amy. “A simple no would have done, Amy.”
Amy’s heart gripped convulsively, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Her apology fell on the closing door of the connecting room.
Amy rolled over. Closing her eyes, she listened as the key turned in the door.
Amy couldn’t concentrate. All morning she had been swamped by reminders of the night before. Wherever she went, it was inescapable. An hour before, she had to leave waiting in line at a toy store, when the woman in front of her with dark shoulder-length hair invoked a full screening of the previous night.
Leaving the store, Amy continued to be plagued as the most inconsequential act prompted a replay. Outside, little bits of Celeste surrounded her as many women carried similarities in their hair, their height, their shapes, their legs, their smiles, their eyes, their brows, their breasts. All indistinctive to Amy on their own but this morning, they formed a powerful collage of sexual potency.
Driven to distraction, Amy found solace in a bookstore near Fifth Avenue, renowned for its architectural collection, and waited it out until it was time to meet Celeste for lunch. She just hoped that the arrangement still stood. Early this morning, she had knocked on the connecting door, but there was no response.
Arriving at the restaurant, Amy was surprised when Celeste introduced Susan, a friend who also worked for MSF. Susan, apparently, was joining them for lunch.
At just over five foot, Susan was slim and pretty with short brown hair, big green eyes and, as Amy was about to find out, an enormous personality.
During lunch, Susan told Celeste that she wouldn’t be going on another assignment. “I’ve always found it easy when I get home after a mission, but this time, it’s different.” She sighed. “I won’t be going back.” She shrugged. “I’m burned out.”
“Have you talked to anyone about this?” Celeste said, touching her friend’s arm.
“Yeah, I’ve gone through the usual channels,” Susan replied, nodding. “But it’s not working.” She clasped Celeste’s hand and smiled. “It’s time for me to move on.” Turning her attention to Amy, she said, “Do you know anything about Médecins sans Frontières?”
Swallowing her food, Amy shook her head; she wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Not that much.”
“Ah,” Susan responded, then straightened her shoulders. “Well, I might not be able to tell you the true meaning of life is, but as far as I’m concerned,” she tapped the table. “It is the simple things that give life meaning.” She looked at Amy. “What do you think are most people’s goals?”
Blindsided, Amy shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“It’s chiefly a desire for happiness.” Susan leaned forward. “Now, it might not be in everyone’s power to be happy, but it’s in everyone’s power to be good.”
Confused, Amy raised her eyebrows at Celeste.
Celeste winked at her.
“Okay,” Amy responded slowly.
“And that’s why people work for organizations like MSF,” Susan said. She sipped her wine. “At first I found it really difficult to adapt to some of the horrific sights you see.” She looked at Celeste. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Celeste nodded.
“But somewhere along the line you deal with it. You deal with the violence, the disease, the starvation, the death…”
Celeste rolled her eyes and listened for another half hour as Susan told Amy what their lives had been like over the last several years, but it was only when Susan mentioned four-year-old-Daniel and his baby sister, from Sierra Leone, that Celeste contributed to the conversation.
Celeste hadn’t told Susan or anyone that the reason she was home was to set the wheels in motion to adopt Daniel and his sister. She hadn’t told her because the adoption process was a long haul with no guarantees, and Susan, although a good friend, was not known for holding her tongue. It was better to keep everything under wraps until she was sure.
“So, what are your plans, Celeste?” Susan asked curiously.
“I’ve just started working at the Memorial Hospital in Sarasota. I haven’t set any definite plans, yet.” Celeste glanced at Amy. “It all depends on how certain things work out.”
“What!” Susan exclaimed. “You’re not considering dumping the gorgeous Doctor Laura Selby are you? According to Ritchie, she’s pining desperately for you.”
Celeste swallowed hard when Amy’s face darkened. She looked at Susan and said softly, “As I said, I haven’t made any plans yet.”
Stunned, Amy’s body tensed. Feeling anger sweep through her, she stood. “Excuse me; I need to use the restroom.”
In the restroom, Amy splashed water on her face and whispered, “Jesus. This woman is a complete stranger!” She gripped the sink. “Who else does she have stashed away?” She looked at her reflection. “It doesn’t matter,” she told herself. “What you have with her is a short-term arrangement with no emotional involvement. It’s better that someone else is in her life; makes it less complicated for you.”
Returning to the table, Amy heard Susan chastise Celeste. “You are such a dark horse, Celeste,” she said. “Don’t keep Laura hanging too long. She might be crazy about you, but she’s nobody’s fool.”
Celeste looked at Susan. “Let’s talk about something else.”
Susan shrugged. “Okay, but you know Ritchie would willingly die for a lick of her cherry.”
Celeste laughed. “Wouldn’t you be a little put out if he were licking any cherry other than yours?”
Stunned, Amy listened as Susan released the most incredible high-pitched laugh.
Susan said in a hushed tone, “Actually, I have a little confession.” She leaned in. “We are here for two reasons.” She looked from Celeste to Amy. “First, Ritchie’s meeting my folks. And second, we’re here to buy an engagement ring.” She clapped her hands. “We’re getting married!”
Amy’s face paled when Susan laughed again.
Good God
,
this woman’s like a performing seal on helium.
“Can you believe it?”
Celeste shrugged then congratulated Susan.
The lunch, and Susan’s long story about the lead-up to Ritchie’s proposal, seemed to drag on for hours. After shredding her napkin, then everything else possible, Amy had had enough. “Do you mind if we get the bill?” she asked Celeste wearily.
Celeste nodded.
Amy caught the eye of a passing waiter.
As they prepared to leave, Celeste invited Susan to the art exhibition they were attending that afternoon.
Amy’s heart sank. She managed to nod reassuringly when Susan whispered, “Is that okay?”
They caught the subway to Brooklyn. Sitting on the train, Amy tried to work up some enthusiasm for the show. Once there, she wandered off on her own for quiet contemplation. The gallery was spacious, but it seemed that wherever she stood she could hear Susan’s laughter.
Eventually, Amy accepted that the only thing she could concentrate on was Celeste, and her temperature rose when she looked at her. She wore a crisp, fashionably cut, light blue suit. The jacket had slick lapels and flap pockets. She wore it buttoned with a hint of cleavage; it fit perfectly. Her trousers were long, lean and minimum, and her shoes low-heeled. Amy had imagined her this morning, delivering her lecture to an entranced audience.
Amy sucked on her bottom lip. She loved the way Celeste’s hair was caught up at the back, fixed with two small intertwining latticed chopsticks. The style lent elegance to her look, and length to her neck. With a long dark fringe falling seductively over her face, she thought Celeste was a complete knockout.
Susan smiled as she passed Amy, heading for the restroom. Amy’s stomach knotted when Celeste approached her.
Celeste stopped in front of Amy and stroked her arm. Her fingers ventured upward and dangerously close to Amy’s breast. She whispered, her mouth coming close to Amy’s, “Are you enjoying the exhibition?”
“Yes,” Amy croaked. Unconsciously, she licked her lips in anticipation.
“There’s a problem with the restroom,” Susan said, returning.
Amy swallowed in relief. Her knees weakened when she realized that she would have kissed Celeste openly if she had wanted. She shook her head slightly, and wondered what the hell kind of person she was turning into.