The Lost Hearts (5 page)

She had closed her eyes, and when she opened them, fixed her husband in a final, solemn star
e.  “You have to be strong now, Laurie.” 
Laurie.
  She had called him Laurie.  And then she was gone.

He couldn’t remember how long he held her, how long he wept into her matted curls.  He only remembered opening his eyes to the eerie light which refused to betray the time of day.  And just like that, Lawrence awoke to a numb, hollowed version of life.  Alone, he returned to Boston a zombie.

Alexis winced to think of her father playing out the events of his last moments with Madeline, but she could not be silent.  “Father, I miss her as much as you do.  I know what she was to you.  But she never would have wanted this.  She never would have wanted you to hold me prisoner, or be so afraid of the world.  Not for me.”  Lawrence sat still, his expression unmoved.  Alexis persisted, “What happened to mother was uncommon.  Plenty of women, women anthropologists, do field work in remote areas of the world.  Think of Margaret Mead and Ruth Benedict.  These are women who unflinchingly go out into the unknown and face the same dangers that you do.”  Alexis’ eyes flashed passionately.  She couldn’t help but feel like a petulant child boiling her argument down to a question of fairness, but she was hot with anger.  Still he sat, angled toward the haunting photo of Madeline, his fingers guarding his bearded mouth.

“My dear,” he said finally, meeting h
er gaze squarely. “I’m afraid there is no logic or reason that can persuade me.  On this matter, I admit with no hesitance, I am totally and wholly irrational.”  Now his eyes fell to scan the surface of his paper-covered desk, but his tone was resolute.  “I’m sorry, Alexis.  There’s nothing you can say to change my mind.  It’s best you forget it and move on.  I need you to focus, because you
are
a part of all this, and I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Alexis fought back the threatening sting of tears with clenched teeth. 
Every muscle in her body contracted in frustration.  She examined her silver-plated fountain pen, gripped tightly by white knuckles.  She loved her father dearly, but now she was teeming with desperate anger.  Alexis rarely let her temper get the better of her, especially with her father, but they had touched on one of the sorest spots of their relationship.  Just as she was searching for another way to argue her point, she was startled to see that Lawrence’s brow no longer stitched with stern fatherly reproach.  Each feature of his weary face sagged with sad defeat.  He looked as old as he ever had, his mouth slightly open, his eyes pale and alone. 

“Please, Alexis,” came a plea so frail she almost didn’t hear it.

Alexis swallowed with effort.  Instantly the fiery emotions which had electrified her entire body were now quelled by compassion.  Her eyes watered with guilt, and she stared hard at her journal, the pages brown and thinned from years of use.  She understood then and finally the futility of her desire to enter the physical realm of anthropology. 

For what seemed like hours they sat without speaking.  The thick walls of the building and the solid heaviness of the do
or insulated the office from all sound.  It even felt as though both father and daughter had ceased to breathe.  Alexis did not speak again or move until her father stood stiffly from his chair and reached for the expedition maps they’d drawn of New Guinea.  Adjusting his glasses, and clearing his throat, he said “Now, let’s wrap this up.”

Chapter T
hree

Philip stood easily behind the helm of
The Boston Pearl,
the lean muscles of his arms flexing below the sleeves of an olive green polo shirt as he steered their way toward Thompson Island.   Gusts of wind pulled at the sails above them, the metal hooks clanging against the soaring mast.  Alexis wriggled back into the brown leather cushions lining the rear starboard, inviting the sun to bathe her face in its warmth.

“Aren’t you happy I finally
got you away from your work?” Philip’s teasing voice sounded against the purl of rippling water.  He climbed nimbly along the boat and lowered the anchor.

Alexis
didn’t hesitate to agree.  “Of course I am.  This is incredible.”  Steadily she made her way to the bow, climbing onto the luminous platinum deck.  His shirt had moistened from the exercise of anchoring the boat, and Alexis cast a furtive glance at the snugness of the fabric over his chest.  Her throat closed and she swallowed hard.  Philip flashed a satisfied smirk at her unspoken praise, and he joined her, two glasses and a bottle of chilled Chardonnay in hand.  It struck Alexis then how composed and self-assured Philip looked in any situation, as though he had just come to life from the glossy pages of a fashion magazine.

Cross-legged, they sat face to face, faintly bobbing to the lulling sway of the water as he poured them a drink.  With a ceremonious gesture, he grasped the stem of the glass and thrust it skyward.  “To us.  To
many days like this.”

Alexis’ mouth spread into a gleeful smile. 
To many days like this. 
She realized then how hard she had fought the urge to consider Philip in any permanent way.  Ever-skeptical of the newcomers in her life, she had held him at a distance.  She felt silly now, watching him toast confidently to their happiness.  For a moment she allowed herself to revel in the sweetness of finally having found someone who respected her, liked her, loved her as she was. 

“To us,” she said
, swigging gluttonously at the cool liquid. 

Philip sensed a momentary chance to glimpse her without cover, and the cool glimmer of his eyes melted.  He remembered the exact moment he had
first seen her.  She had emerged through a sweep of trees among the university campus and he saw the sun light up a halo of flaming locks.  He remembered the dress she wore.  The strawberry red swatch of pleats that hugged her curves.  The open-toed heels.  The black pearl necklace.  In a flash, the lines of her face, the generous surface of her pink mouth, and those endless blue eyes were seared in his mind.  He had never wanted to possess anything so much as in that moment.  He wanted her, and the wanting rendered him breathless. 

Now she sat be
fore him, relaxing into this unspoken promise of a shared life.  He was this close, he thought, to staking claim on her.  Or so he had wanted to believe.  The closer he got to her, the more he felt off course.  Close up, she had become bigger than his initial desire, too big to contain.  How could he be diverted so enormously from his instincts?  He was a Talbot after all, and Talbots took, they conquered, they collected.  Philip bit his teeth into his lip.  She offered her love to him, he realized, but she was not his.  Not like he had wanted.  Not yet.

She did not see the tension in his face, the contraction of his muscles as he squirmed in this new strange sensation. 
“Let’s go for a swim off the boat.  Can’t we?” Alexis asked playfully as she polished off the remainder of the sweet, fruity wine. 

“Sure thing,” Philip replied, composing himself from the uncomfortable thread of his thoughts.
  “But, uh, first I should take care of that wine mustache you have there.”  Philip cupped her face with his hand, caressing her upper lip with the soft pad of his thumb.  Alexis’ heart quickened and a pinprick of heat deep within her burst, pushing up to the surface of her skin.  Without effort, he scooped her towards him, and brushed his parted mouth against hers.  Instantly his breath was urgent, and it electrified her senses.  Alexis’ eyes rolled back, and her head drained of blood. 

“God, Alexis.  I want you,” he said just as he closed his mouth over hers.  
She was swept up by his need, as though he were possessed by something beyond his control.  His body shifted and rose with the agility of a predatory cat, and she felt his arms begin to vine around her.  His mouth was pressed against hers hard, his teeth gently but hungrily tugging at her bottom lip.  His hand, now clasped at the base of her neck, urged her head to fall back.  Suddenly she felt the unleashed mass of her curls whip around them as Philip grazed the slope of her bare throat with his lips. 

Through the dizzy haze of the wine, Alexis could feel her small frame quake with a climbing need.  In that moment she longed for nothing more than the solidness of Philip’s body above her, the naked skin of his chest pressed hard against her breasts.  Her arms wreathed Philip’s shoulders, and perceiving her desire, he lowered his hands to grasp her thighs, his fingers kneading her supple flesh.  He lifted her easily atop the cabin roof, coaxing her legs open with his hands, and she wondered if he could feel the feverish pulse of her desire against him. 

He pulled her forcefully against his torso and she locked her legs tight around him.  Both of their bodies clung tightly, squirming for impossible closeness.  He pulled at the hemline of her skirt, found the heavenly backs of her knees, and opened her wider around him.  His breath was shallow, his movements hungry and powerful.  Slowly his burning palm rose upward along the slope of her thigh and she felt the center of her aching heat grow and expand as he neared her.

Alexis’ eyes flew open when he touched her, she could feel the fire burst in her cheeks and along the slope of her neck.  He wa
s pulling the delicate lace over her thighs.  She panted.  “Oh my God, Philip,” she rasped.  His nostrils flared as he fixed her hard.  She had never seen him look at her like this before.  He caught her in a deep kiss, and she felt his hands grasp furiously at the buckle of his belt.  The waist of his pants snapped open, and she felt spine-tingling hardness push against her.  

And then, as if waking from a
stupor, Alexis gasped and slammed against Philip, convulsing with the shock of air.  Philip raised his head a moment, panting violently with need.  His eyes were vacant pools of fire, and for a moment he did not understand.  He pulled her ravenously back to him, but she resisted.  “No, Philip.  Stop,” she sputtered incoherently, squirming against his possessive embrace.  “I can’t.  I’m sorry.”  Alexis began to reclaim the various limbs that had entwined with his.  “This isn’t the moment,” she offered weakly.  Philip looked astounded. 

“It’s not?” h
e asked flatly.  Regaining his composure, he quickly pulled up his pants and smoothed his hair with the palm of his hand.

“Well, it’s just that I’m not exactly ready.”  She
slid off the cabin roof and leaned against the rail, her fingers closing over the cold steel.  Doubt flickered across her indigo eyes.  She couldn’t explain her hesitance.  She loved Philip.  She knew empirically he was one of the most attractive men in Boston.  She had desired him deeply.  Yet whenever they found themselves in such a situation, with the moment to act out their longtime fantasies, she had always put a stop to it. 

Philip stood still, his smooth chin jutting slightly outward. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, his mouth falling open with an exasperated sigh.  He shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment.  “I just don’t get it, Alexis
.”  He dropped his head and rubbed his neck, his eyes wide and dazed.  “What’s going on?”

Alexis watched him tuck his shirt back into the waistline of his pants.  He buckled the belt, his face fixed like stone.  “I don’t know, Philip.  I…”  Alexis bit her nail, buying time. She searched her mind desperately for the precise words which would lend clarity to the misunderstanding.  But she could find none.  It was only a feeling which propelled her from the arms of her lover.  There were no concrete objections which she could truthfully explain away.  She knew she should go to him, wrap her arms around him.   But she could not budge from her lonely spot against the banister. 

“That’s all you have to say?” Philip said, his face flooding with red.  He coughed indignantly.  “Alexis.  I love you.  We love each other.  It’s perfectly natural for us to be together.  In fact,” he said gesturing sarcastically with his hands, “it’s more natural for us to be together than for you to push me away like this.”  He shook his head bitterly.  “You’ve got to tell me what’s going on.”

“Please, Philip,” Alexis squeaked.

“Alexis,” he said, laughing slightly maniacally.  “I am going a little crazy here. You’re pushing me to the edge.  I want you so badly.  Don’t you want to be with me?”  It was a demand, and his voice was tinged with the threat of impatience.

“Yes, I do.  Couldn’t you tell?”  Her face flushed as she plunged into a vivid recap of the moments just before.  She reached sheepishly at her ankles, pulling up the cream lace panties.  “I’m sorry, Phil.  Please,” she stammered.  “Be patient with me.”

Philip cast a sideways gaze at the horizon, inhaling meditatively through his nose.  Alexis grasped the rail, bracing herself for another barrage of questions.  But he only shrugged his shoulders and kicked the heel of his loafer against the deck.  “Let’s take that swim, then.” 

Alexis flashed an overtly appreciative smile at him.  She wanted to kiss him for sparing her the discomfort of articulating nascent irksome thoughts. 

With nothing short of acrobatics, beneath the warm layers of her sailing apparel, she changed into one of the latest styles of bikini wear.  She knew Philip had been devious about providing the wardrobe for their outing.  It was the perfect opportunity for him to glimpse her with the least amount of coverage.  Though subtle was the wind, faintly chilled streams of air grazed the surface of her bare skin.  Beneath the ebony colored triangles, she could see her breasts round firmly and her nipples harden.  Suddenly feeling very naked, she jerked her head to check for Philip.  He was nude but for the stretchy gray fabric pulled tightly across his pelvis.  Alexis blushed at his exposed body and the newness of seeing it so brazenly displayed.  He took her in, and she felt his eyes pause on the ripe slope of her behind.  His expression flashed with the same intensity she had seen just moments before, and his Adam’s apple seemed to grow heavy in his throat. 

“Let’s go,” he chafed.

The
Bentley engine purred as the pair cruised along the narrow, lamp-lit road ways.  Alexis shivered beneath the bundle of thick layers enveloping her, and she reached her hand to comb back the untamed ringlets of hair still damp from the ocean water.  Curled up alongside Phillip, she watched him from the corner of her eye.  His jaw was set, his eyes fixed vacantly before him.  She had observed this expression on occasion but had never apprehended the emotion behind it.

“Philip,” Alexis started, her tone slightly investigative.   “I had an amazing time today.  I’m really happy you convinced me to go.  It was a much needed break from all of this work.”  She let her hand rest on his leg and she melted with relief as he lowe
red his own from the steering wheel to squeeze her gently.  Sighing, she continued, “You know what a big deal this expedition is.  I’m so excited for my father and what this could mean for the Society.”

Philip coughed and reclaimed
his hand from hers.  Alexis’ momentary relief chilled and she saw his jaw clench in disapproval.  Alexis slid away from him, hugging the frame of the door as he subtly maneuvered the car onto Devonshire Road, a cozy, wooded neighborhood peppered with cottage-style houses.  The convertible slowed to a rolling stop and Philip relaxed against the plush leather seat.  Through the venerable trunks of the willow trees, Alexis welcomed the sight of the cobblestone path winding upward through the velvety grass to her wooden shingled home.

“Well, your father is the man to do it,” Philip replied finally, taking care to betray nothing.  “I think he’ll be more than able to carry out the research on
his own now that you’re really settling into your life here.”  He turned his head and searched Alexis’ eyes for agreement.  “Right?” 

Alexis
’ head shook involuntarily.  “What do you mean?” she asked him in a low, cautious tone.  Her chest rose instinctively, suddenly feeling combative.  Now she turned completely in the seat, one leg folded beneath the other, her face centered directly at Philip. 

“Calm down, calm down,” Philip laughed uneasily.  “I don’t mean anything.  I’m just saying that your life is here.  Your studies, your work.  Me.”  He stroked the side of his c
heek, barely masking the awkward line of his mouth. 

Brow furrowed, it was Alexis’ turn to frown.  Philip had never made such bold assumptions about her future before and she was uncertain of how to respond.  Could it be that she was being unreasonable?  Perhaps she’d grown too accustomed to her solitude and independence.  Didn’t Philip have needs, too?  And what was a relationship but a union between two ideas of happiness?  Philip had never made any indication that her ambitions and goals infringed upon his own ideals.

Alexis bit her bottom lip, and her eyes fixed on the stars.  Philip watched her, his muscular body rigid.  Finally she turned her gaze to him.  “Sometimes I feel like you’re not telling me everything.”

He snapped his head back dramatically at the accusation.  “What are
you talking about?”