Authors: Julie A. Richman
Pushing the upper half of his body up on his elbows, he volleyed back, “Are you ready for me?”
“I was ready twenty minutes ago.” Mia laughed and undid the button and zipper of his suit pants. He became impatient as she worked them down his legs and kicked them off himself. “Oh, I like these.” Mia stuck her fingers in the waistband of his black boxer briefs and let them snap back on him.
“Demon,” he hissed at her, and they both laughed.
She looked at the sizable tent in his underwear and caressed him through the soft fabric. “Looks like you’re ready, too.”
“I’ve been ready since New Year’s Eve.”
“No. Not that long.”
He nodded his head. “Yes, that long.”
Mia cocked her head and looked at him, smiling.
“C’mere,” he said and held out his arms to her.
Scrambling up the bed to him, she laid down next to him. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She pulled the straps down her arms and flung it to the floor.
“Now it’s almost an even playing field,” and smiling, she slipped her pants off. “Much better.”
Both just down to their underwear, they tangled legs and tongues, touching everywhere. When Michael started to flick her nipples to hardness with his tongue, Mia grabbed him roughly by the hair.
“Enough,” she announced, panting. “I am going to combust.”
Michael shook his head, “I’m not done,” and he pulled his head away and sucked her nipple roughly into his mouth. Wrapping her arms around his head, Mia began to whimper.
“Michael, if you don’t start touching me, I’m going to start touching myself,” and she took his hand and slipped it into her panties.
As his fingers slid through her wetness, “Wow. You weren’t kidding.” He stroked back and forth before starting to press on her clit. Mia buried her face in his chest, whimpering. It didn’t take long before she began to quake around his fingers.
He was smiling at her when she pulled her face away from his chest.
“Are you ever going to fuck me?” she asked.
“No,” he shook his head.
“Are you ever going to make love to me?”
“Every chance I get.”
Mia took his face in her hands. “I need you to right now.”
“What do you think we’ve been doing?”
“Torturing me.”
Pulling her underwear off and then following with his own, “You are so impatient,” he teased.
“Make me wait any longer and you are going back into the friend zone.”
Grabbing her for a rough kiss, “I’m never going back into the friend zone.”
“Probably not.” Mia agreed.
He pulled Mia underneath him and smiled at her. “Say so long to the friend zone,” and in one swift motion he was inside of her. Mia wrapped her legs around him as he drove into her slowly. With the same slow precision he pulled out and then back in, as if acclimating himself to his new environment. “You feel really good,” he whispered. “I knew you’d feel really good.” And then he pulled all the way out of her. He was no longer inside of her. Mia looked at him, as if to say, “Come back,” and he plunged forcefully back in, causing her to gasp.
“And you called me a demon?” And she pushed him, rolling him over on his back and straddling him. “Take my hands.” She held onto him tightly as she rode the length of his cock. Taking him all the way in, she squeezed him tight. “You feel really good, too.” He let go of her hands and grabbed her by the hips, controlling her speed and depth as his cock disappeared deep into her.
“I told you we’d be good together,” he could hardly get the words out.
“Michael … ” and she was gone. She heard him moan, but it was far away in the distance. Her ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton and although she had come, she didn’t want to stop moving on him. It felt so good. Finally, she fell forward onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.
“I want to stay the night,” he whispered in her ear.
“Did you think I would let you leave?” She smiled at him and kissed the tip of his nose.
As she fell asleep in Michael’s arms, all Mia could think was, “This is a really decent man. Do not fuck this up.”
Climbing the steps out of the Lexington Avenue Line subway station on 86th Street, the heavy balmy spring air made Mia smile. Spring, you old foe, she thought. But it was impossible not to smile. The air was warm, the days getting longer, leaves and flowers budding all over the city. It was a new century and this spring, Mia had hope that her season of bad luck was left behind in the last century.
Crossing Lexington and heading toward Madison Avenue, everyone and everything just seemed more alive, more vibrant. Wearing just a light sweater as opposed to the heavy weight of a wool or a down coat was reason enough to feel lighthearted.
The Met and the park were right in front of her now as she waited for the light to change and cross Fifth Avenue. The dappled greens of Central Park emulated the Monets inside the majestic Beaux-Arts style building. Bounding up the great stone steps to the entrance, Mia was excited to spend some time with her mother, who had just returned from wintering in Florida.
Lois looked chic in a navy and red St. Johns Knit with navy pumps and a Palm Beach tan.
“Mom, you look fabulous.” Mia hugged her mother tight.
“So do you, darling. I love your hair this length.” Mia’s curls were layered to her jaw line with long curls hanging in her eyes.
Mia slipped her arm through her mother’s and steered her toward Augustus. “Let’s go see him. I haven’t been here in so long.” With a knowing smile, Lois indulged her daughter.
“Hey, handsome.” Mia greeted the marble bust with a smile. It was impossible to not recall the Jackie moment when she visited him now and through stream of consciousness association, Augustus Caesar had somehow become associated with Schooner Moore, although her infatuation with the ancient emperor long preceded her relationship with Schooner.
“He really was quite handsome, those lips and that strong chin, and straight nose. He was a hottie. Did you know that he and Bruce Springsteen share a birthday?”
Lois just shook her head at her daughter.
“What’s that look?”
“My daughter, successful owner of a New York City advertising agency, thinks Augustus Caesar is a hottie and knows that he shares a birthday with Bruce Springsteen. How did I raise such an odd child?”
Mia laughed, “Ahhh, you didn’t do so bad.”
As they made their way toward the opening for
The Forgotten Friezes from the Castle of Vélez Blanco
, Lois asked, “So when are we going to get to meet Michael?”
Grabbing two glasses of champagne from a waiter’s tray and handing one to her mother, Mia smiled, “You see I have this fear,” she began, “if I introduce you to Michael, you are going to invite me out to dinner one night shortly after that, and when I walk into the place, I’m going to find that I’ve just walked into my own wedding.”
“I’m going to like him that much?” Lois’ eyebrows were raised.
“Oh please.” Mia rolled her eyes, “You are going to love him.” They stepped before the first twenty foot carved pine frieze. Intricate Venetian woodcuts portrayed Julius Caesar in his chariot followed by citizens carrying victory branches. “Oh look, it’s Uncle Jules.” Mia laughed. “Look at all the work that went into these,” and they both marveled at the detail and the craftsmanship that went into the narrative sculptures as they explored the rest of the exhibit.
Giovanni Venticinque was located only a half block away from The Met and was Mia and Lois’ regular go-to spot to end their “Girls’ Days” at The Met. Seated at a table for two in the corner of the cream and dark wood dining room, Mia quickly perused the wine list and ordered a bottle of Super Tuscan.
“So, is it serious?”
Mia laughed and took a big gulp of her wine, “I think this is called déjà vû.”
Lois gave her daughter an annoyed look, “I have not asked that question in years,” and then, “well, are you going to answer it?”
“Mom, we’ve only been dating a few months.” The waiter arrived with appetizers and Mia dug into her Carpaccio, carving up the paper-thin meat with her fork and knife.
“At your age, I would think that would be enough time to know.” Lois cut into her prosciutto and melon.
“At my age?” Mia shook her head, “I like him a lot. I enjoy being with him. He’s a really special guy and he treats me like a princess.”
Lois put her fork and knife down. “So, what have you found wrong with him?”
“Nothing.” Mia shook her head. “He’s a really good guy.”
“Do you see it becoming serious?”
Mia picked up the wine bottle and refilled her mother’s glass and then her own. They both took sips. “It’s possible.”
Lois put her glass down, “Ok, Mia, what am I missing here? There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Hmph.” Mia scoffed. “That’s probably an understatement. Right now I’m really working on me. And I need to get myself to a good healthy place before I even know that I can commit to someone else.”
“What does that mean?” Mia couldn’t tell if Lois was annoyed or concerned or a combination of the two.
Mia was silent for a moment as the busboy removed their plates. The waiter was right behind him ready to top off Mia and Lois’ wineglasses. “Keep that vino coming.” Mia thought to herself.
“It means that I am finally in therapy dealing with things that took a very long time for me to start facing.”
“What kind of things?” Lois’ voice was tight and Mia knew the next thing out of her mouth was going to be very painful for her mother.
“I’m ok now, Mom. I really am. But I wasn’t for a long time,” she paused and took a deep breath and blew it out. “I was raped spring semester of my freshman year in college.”
The words hung between them as if suspended in ether. Mia watched the color drain from her mother’s face, paling her beneath her tan. “Mom, take a sip of wine or water. I’m ok. I’m really ok. It was a long time ago.”
“Was it that handsome boy?”
It took a moment for Mia to realize her mother was referring to Schooner.
“Schooner?” There was shock in her voice.
Lois nodded, “Yes.”
“No. No. No, Mom. Oh my God, no. Schooner would never do anything like that. He was actually the one who took me to the hospital that night and took care of me afterwards.”
“You had such a reaction the one time I brought him up.”
Mia nodded. “Yeah well, Schooner and I didn’t end too well. But he had nothing to do with me getting raped. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time coming out of the darkroom late one night.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lois’ hand was visibly shaking as she lifted her water glass. “Why didn’t you come to us?”
“It took me a really long time to deal with it, Mom. It was only when it got to the point where I was starting to destroy my life, where my behavior got really destructive, that I finally did something about it. I never even told Tom until he confronted me the day I threw him out. But all those years we were together I never confided in him.”
“And therapy is working?”
“I’m telling you about it. That’s a big step.”
The conversation quieted as the waiter brought their entrees and Mia asked him to bring another bottle of wine. Thank goodness, she thought, in New York you can just cab it home. No worries about being the designated driver, because clearly she and Lois were going to be staggering out the door by the time they left the restaurant.
“Does Michael know?”
Mia nodded, “Yes. He does. And that was another big thing, being able to tell someone I’m in an intimate relationship with about my past.”
It was clear neither of them were going to touch the food in front of them. Mia picked up the bottle and refilled their wine glasses.
“So, what kind of therapy are you in? Are you seeing a psychiatrist?”
“She’s a psychologist.”
Lois sat deep in thought for a moment. “So, is this why you left California?”
Mia shook her head no.
“No?” Lois was surprised. “Schooner?”
Mia nodded.
“What happened?” Lois was shocked, and yet she wasn’t, as she remembered Mia’s reaction years ago.
“He lied to me.” Mia’s answer was clipped.
“About what?”
“Loving me.”
Lois wondered if all the alcohol they had consumed was bringing that old hurt close to the surface for her daughter. The pain in her eyes and in her face was still very much present.
“You were both very young, Mia.”
“I know we were. But I have never felt so connected to another human being before or since. We were one, in two separate bodies, but we were one,” and with a sad smile, “or at least I felt we were.”
“Every love is different, Mia. Do not discount what you may have found now with Michael because it is not the same as what you once felt for Schooner.”
“I’m trying not to, Mom. I really am.”
As Mia lifted the wineglass to her lips, all she could think about was that amazing feeling of loving someone else so deeply, so fully and without reserve, and it seemed as elusive as being able to hold a ray of sunshine in one’s hand.
Lois Silver was going to get her way, whether her secretive daughter was going to comply or not. On this warm Wednesday evening, they had just come from a pre-theatre dinner at longtime family favorite restaurant, Pierre Au Tunnel, and were making their way down Eighth Avenue to Forty-Fourth Street and the Shubert Theatre, where the musical
Chicago
was playing.
Lois walked slowly so that Bob and Michael would not be in earshot while she grilled Mia.
“He’s got a sweet face,” commented Lois.
Do I know my mother or do I know my mother, Mia thought. She had pegged that one way back on New Year’s Eve and here it was her birthday in July and Lois commented verbatim. Damn, I’m good, thought Mia.
“He’s a nice looking guy.” Mia agreed.
They stopped for the light at Forty-Sixth Street. The men had already crossed.
“I like this one. He’s smart and personable. Obviously he’s crazy about you. Do you think this is the one?”
Mia threaded her arm through her mother’s as the light changed and they stepped off the curb. Lois could cut to the chase with the best of them.