Office Politics: Part Ten
Paula, a new employee at the Department of Defense, has a kill in her cross-hairs. Charles, a God in uniform has pledged to have her calling him Daddy by the end of the night....
For two solid weeks, Paula never left the house and rarely spoke: when she did it was hollow. She would only see Lisa and John (and by extension Sarah) under the strict order they weren’t to talk about Charlie or their breakup. They were there for company, to make sure wasn’t completely alone and answer the endless streams of correspondence. Lisa cooked and took care of the housework, John juggled her workload and gave Charlie clipped status reports and Sarah became her constant cuddle-buddy.
Sarah. She’d lived with a mentally unstable mother, Naomi, since birth. During her pregnancy, Naomi alleged she’d felt something “snap” in her head; from then on she was never the same. As an infant, she had very little to do with Sarah and was virtually nonexistent thereafter. Sarah’s only memories of her mother were those involving catatonic mood swings and violent fits, which habitually resulted in Sarah trembling and crying in her closet with a blanket over her head until John subdued Naomi long enough to come find her. As she grew older the trembling and crying ceased but hiding away under blankets remained her escape. There were times she’s blamed herself for her mothers’ condition. For hours on end, she sought redemption at the threshold of her mother’s locked bedroom door; she would sit and wait, hoping her presence would give her a minuet connection with Naomi. It never did.
She was a lonely overly intelligent little girl; worshipped by her father and unnoticed by her mother. “The Ladies” took Sarah under their wings and gave her security, however, Paula was the first real mother she’d known and the only woman John trusted without reserve. Others had pushed Sarah to act her age. Paula didn’t. She realized Sarah’s maturity sprung from her mothers’ illness and eventual absence—nothing would or could change the past but acknowledging it would help Sarah come to terms with it.
And that is exactly what she did. Paula allowed Sarah to verbalize her thoughts rather then bottle them inside. The more she talked, the more she healed—the more she healed, the more of an ambivert she became: comfortable with groups and enjoyed social interaction, but also relished time alone and away from the crowd; much like Paula herself. They were kindred in that way. Even in the dark depressing days that followed her breakup, Paula never pushed Sarah away. If no one else, her door remained open for Sarah.
“Ms. Paula,” Sarah lay in Paula’s arms as they watched television in bed. “You wanna know what’s cool about being biracial?”
“What’s that?”
“Your hair smells like dinosaurs.” Sarah smiled up at Paula.
“Sarah, sweetie, have you been sipping cough syrup?”
“No, not real dinosaurs, the plastic ones we bought from The Discovery Channel Store when my dad was in Saudi.”
Paula took a whiff of Sarah’s jet black hair. “You’re right, it does smell like dinosaurs. I think you should wash your hair.”
“It won’t help. I’ve tried everything. It’ll smell like dinosaurs until you get out of bed and take me to get my hair done.”
Paula looked down at Sarah. “Smart ass.”
“I learned from the best.” Sarah changed the television channel and lay quiet while Paula’s fingers raked through her hair. “You told me to always be honest and speak my mind—and you’d do the same, and we wouldn’t tell anyone what we talk about.”
“Yes, baby.”
“I miss Charlie.”
“I miss Charlie too.” Paula closed her eyes. For once she was honest with herself. She missed him. But her “missing” him came in fragments, remnants, tiny bite size shards. Missing him, in his entirety, was too much for her to handle. One day she would miss his slightly dimpled chin or his legs. Or she’d miss his fingers laced in hers; she’d miss the nape of his neck that always smelled of soap. Or other days, she’d miss his Southern drawl and the funny way he pronounced “wiener”. And still, there were days she missed his sense of humor and quick wit or the way the right corner of his mouth curved when he smiled.
These bits and pieces were all she could swallow. It was as if her psyche doled out these small manageable slivers of Charlie, knowing that endeavoring to ingest him as a whole….to sit and consider his absolute loss, would leave her slumped like an injured animal, awaiting death or the circling predators to consume.
Perhaps, given time, she would be able to miss him in larger quantities. For now, she would continue to miss him in snack size portions, hoping one day thoughts of him would no longer fill the quiet space between her breaths.
******
Two more weeks passed and Paula was upward mobile; working from home and taking care of herself for the most part. John and Sarah virtually moved in with her and the ladies, save Stacy, came over everyday. John and Paula’s bond defied definition: they ate, slept, and breathed one another. He gave her what Charlie no longer could, stability. John bypassed his weekly billiards night with the guys, opting, rather, to cram for his exit exam. Graduation was less than a two weeks away…Lisa, as always, readied his graduation party. He’d planned on taking Paula and Sarah to Florida to visit his family, but Lisa wouldn’t be swayed. He would have a party if it killed the lot of them.
Having her friends and the kids around seemed to be doing the trick for Paula—she’d even managed a smile or two. Her daily conversations with Peggy gave her a resumption of normality. Besides the odds and ends Charlie left behind and mutual friends, his parents were Paula’s last connection to him—a strong connection neither party desired to sever. Her own parents were busy with their new grandchildren or something else Paula had no interest in being involved with. Only one of her sisters, Elizabeth, called regularly, which suited Paula just fine. When her family focused their attention on you, there was no end to their caring. At this juncture, Paula didn’t welcome that level of attention. Calls and emails were fine but no visiting was necessary.
After an emotionally tiring day of packing Charlie’s belongs Paula garnered the wherewithal to drag herself to the shower. The phone rang—she ignored it assuming John had forwarded the calls to his cell phone as he did most evenings. Seconds later she heard Charlie’s voice coming from the answering machine; it was the first time she’d heard his voice since their inglorious end. His pain was undeniable; each syllable was noticeably clipped and labored. His words enveloped Paula’s aching heart leaving her on the verge of tears.
“Paula, I know you won’t answer the phone and you may never hear this message but…I have to…I need to know that you’re alright and being taken care of. I don’t blame you for leaving me. I’m sorry my actions have caused you pain. Knowing that I’ve hurt you is killing me,” Charlie continued. “I’m not calling to explain what I did because I can’t and I’m not going to ask for your forgiveness because I’m not sure I deserve it. I will say that I love you and I miss what we had. I’ll give you some space but please call me if you need me. I love you.”
Paula erased the message, turned off the light and crawled back into bed. Damn the shower.
She awoke some hours later to find Shawn resting against the headboard beside her and watching television with the volume turned down. She grinned sleepily and rolled into him.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
“Did you think I wasn’t gonna come? I have a key.” he declared.
“What took you so long? I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. I’ve been slaying my own demons; besides, you needed the time alone. But I’ve weaseled my way in. You’re never getting rid of me.” He chuckled.
“Don’t leave me, Shawn.” She mumbled into his side, the familiar scent of “Gain” detergent welcomed her.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Quiet minutes succeeded one another.
“How did you do it? How were you able to forgive Stacy?” Paula asked surprisingly calm. “I need to know how you did it because I can’t forgive Charlie.”
Shawn took a deep breath. “Stacy and I are working through our problems. The hardest part has been keeping the lines of communication open. I wanted to shut her out like you’ve done Charlie but that wouldn’t have solved anything; the problems would still be there waiting to be dealt with. So we talk, I tell her how I’m feeling and she tells me how she’s feeling and we both have to live with the consequences. That’s how adult relationships work—shutting yourself off and wallowing in self-pity won’t make your problems go away. You’re just buying time. You will have to deal with this, Paula.”
“I’m trying to get my hands around what’s happened but I can’t. I don’t understand how he could walk away from what we had.”
“Did he walk away?” Shawn pulled his attention away from the television and glanced down at Paula. “Can you or anyone prove that he knowingly slept with Stacy? Was it his intent to cheat?”
“No, but the question is still there.”
“So, there are always going to be questions. What were his intentions?”
“I don’t know…”
“Exactly!” Shawn cited. “They were in bed together—we’re in bed together. If someone were to walk in and see us right now, what would they assume?”
Paula knew the point he was driving at. “They can’t judge me because the situations are different. You’re my friend. I’d never have sex with you.”
“And Charlie and Stacy are friends. They knew one another before you came along. If he wanted her, he had plenty of time to get her. There was no intent, on either’s part, to sleep together. Sex between them is outside the dynamics of their relationship.”
Paula shook her head stubbornly. “It doesn’t change the fact it happened.”
“What’s happened?” he shrugged. “Prove they slept together. You have to look at his and Stacy’s character not the appearance of the situation. We can’t judge others based on their behavior, and ask them to judge us based on our intent. Life doesn’t work that way. You need to talk to them, give them a chance to explain.”
“I’m afraid, Shawn.” Paula looked across the tight knit fibers of his shirt. “I’ve been feeling nothing for so long I’m afraid to feel. Talking to them will open wounds I’ve bandaged.”
“You’ve put a Band-aid on a cannonball wound! You won’t begin to heal until you talk to them.”
“What if I can’t take the grief?”
Shawn drew a long thoughtful breath, his sparkling hazel eyes shone down at Paula. “You can.”
She drooped down into his lap and they watched television.
“Hey,” Shawn blurred. “Did you know Sarah’s hair smells like dinosaurs?”
“Yeah, I know.” Paula snorted.
Another week passed and John’s graduation quickly approached. Paula knew everyone would be in attendance—to lessen any tension that would ruin John’s day; she had to talk to Charlie and Stacy. It was time to clear the air, especially with Stacy. Paula called and they arranged to meet alone at “Capital Grille”, a local eatery with plenty of outdoor seating, live music and a full medical facility within close proximity.
Having not seen Stacy in over a month, Paula was uncertain how she’d react. In her estimation, she would be restrained, sensible even. But, as a precaution, she washed down two sedatives with a glass of wine before Stacy arrived; just to take the edge off—no sense in stabbing the puppy without provocation.
‘Just my damn luck, a “Bread” cover band!’ Paula thought to herself as she stared down the lead singer slicing through a jarringly tragic rendition of “Guitar Man”. ‘If they play “Make It With You” I’m gonna fucking kill myself.’
Maybe she should have taken the sedatives earlier. Thankfully by the time Stacy arrived Paula’s blood thirst was quenched and she sat emotionally paralyzed. Ah, sedatives: a kill switch in a bottle…par excellence!
Stacy sat across the table from Paula. Her thick raven tresses hung low about her shoulders, the light in her eyes was snuffed, her complexion dulled. She was defeated, beaten and worn; her appearance was of a woman who hadn’t slept in days. Paula stared blankly on as Stacy gave her account of that night and couldn’t help but feel Stacy was hiding something more substantial than the night in question. Perhaps it was the effects of the ‘happy pills’ but suddenly the events of that night were of no consequence, something devastating was wrong with her friend.
“You’re pregnant,” Paula covered her mouth.
Stacy nooded.
“It’s…” Paula forced the words from her body. “It’s Charlie’s isn’t it?”
Stacy shook her head, no. “It’s Shawn’s. I drove down to Eglin for more tests. Even if Charlie and I had sex, there is no chance it could be his.”
“Are they certain?”
“They’re one hundred percent certain, and so am I.” Stacy looked away.
“Then why are you upset?” Paula asked when Stacy refused to meet her eyes. “You haven’t told Shawn.”
“Paula I can’t. Not right now. We’re struggling with our problems and a baby wouldn’t…it would make matters worse.”
“Are you considering an abortion?”
Stacy shrugged.
Paula knew better than to take Stacy seriously. She would never have an abortion; she was stressed and needed a friend. “Stacy, I’m not going to pretend to be reconciled with what’s happened, because I’m not. I don’t believe you purposely slept with Charlie. You didn’t mean to hurt me but your actions have. You shouldn’t have gotten behind the wheel; you should have stayed at Lisa’s. None of this would have happened if everyone had used better judgment but, Stacy, what were you thinking?” She stopped seeing Stacy was shaken by her words. “At least Charlie and Shawn had good enough sense not to drive home. You could have killed yourself, then what would I have done?”
Stacy quickly glanced at Paula and then down to the bricked patio. “You and Charlie would still be together.”
“Probably but I would’ve lost my friend.”
“You’ve lost me anyway,” their eyes met. “You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. I love you. But we have issues to work through—one being your utter stupidity for driving under the influence.”
Stacy laughed. “Drink and driving isn’t going to be a problem with baby on board.”
Paula smiled. “We’ll sort it out.”
The question Paula tip-toed around finally crossed her lips. “Do you think you slept with Charlie?”
Stacy shook her head. “I don’t think so. Based on your stories of him in bed…I don’t believe for a second we had sex. I would’ve been walking with a limp the next morning.” She laughed. “Or I would’ve been extremely sore afterwards.”
“Mmmm, I miss that feeling.”
“So, are you going to talk to him?” She waited for Paula’s reply but there was none. “Paula, he loves you; he is absolutely miserable without you; we’re worried about him, we’re worried about you. You know Charlie would never hurt you. That man worships the ground you walk on. I’m not asking you to take him back but at least hear him out. You own it to yourself.”
Paula dropped her head. “He used to call a hundred times a day but he hasn’t called in over a week. He used to ask everyone how I was doing but he doesn’t ask anymore.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He’s giving you what you asked for: space. Charlie’s spirit is broken, he’s not himself. He’ll never be the same without you. At least give him the same opportunity you’ve given me.”
“I don’t know if I can. I’ve taken baby steps towards getting over him and I don’t want to have to start over again.”
“How are you doing?”
“Not great but it’s getting easier. I can't sleep at night. Charlie haunts my thoughts,” Paula tapped her nails on the ceramic tabletop and sighed. “I thought I’d be stronger than this. I thought I’d be able to push him out of my mind but I can’t. There’s a part of me that won’t allow me to stop loving him and I don’t know how to get over him.”
Stacy smiled and for the first time resembled her old self. “You’re going to marry him.”
“I can’t,” Paula said with a woeful shake. “But I will talk to him.”
1:24am. Charlie reclined in his office chair waiting for the last SQL database shrink to complete before he called it a night. He tapped his bottom lip with his index finger, a nervous habit Paula tried unsuccessfully to break him of, whilst twirling John’s graduation invitation on the desktop. Undoubtedly, Paula would be there. He grappled with the thought of seeing her for the first time since he walked out her door.
Every morning, he made a conscience effort to slowly, ever so slowly, forgive himself for his mistakes. Somehow, in the stillness of the evenings, the heaviness of guilt, disappointment, and the ache for what could have been found their way back to him, and rest somberly on his chest. There were times he courted the numbness his friend swore would come. It had, in fact, eluded him. Perhaps he would find it once the sleepless nights came to an end. Perhaps after he was able to drink from the coffee mug she’d given him. Then, perhaps, he would, at some unforeseen day in the murky distant future, find it once he forgave himself. He prayed that if he ever found this numbness everyone spoke so highly of, he would stay there, and never feel anything at all, ever again.
Therein lay the problem; he endeavored to feel too much at once. But how could he not? He’d loved Paula dramatically. He’d loved her with candid sparkling brilliance. He’d utterly surrendered to her and their relationship. He’d ripped his heart out whole, bleeding and still beating; he’d fallen to his suppliant knees, bowed his head, and beseechingly offered it to her with both hands open.
….As she had done for him. He’d promised to never hurt her and he’d failed. Charlie leaned forward, elbows on knees, laced fist against his lips. “God, I can’t do this alone, I need your help. I’ve gotten it all wrong; I wanna be a good man—I’m asking you to make me into the man she deserves. If there’s anyway for me and Paula to have another start, I’m begging, please, don’t give up on me. All I need is another chance.”
Moments later Charlie’s computer monitor flashed; the database shrink was complete. He cleared his desk, turned off the lights, checked the locks and went to bed. Numbness would have to wait.
Charlie awoke with a start: the phone rang. He unclenched his pillow and squinted, trying to make the numbers on the clock, 6:19am. The phone rang again. After cursing the person on the opposite end, he answered.
“Hello?” his deep gravelly drawl was more pronounced from under the pillow.
“Hi, it’s me. I was trying to catch you before you went to PT.” Paula said.
Charlie sat up straight in bed, his sleepy acid-tongued response instantly dissipated. By her raspy tone, he could tell she’d awoken specifically to make this call. He gave a silent prayer of thanks and said, “No, Shawn and I ran extra laps last night. We’re not meeting up for PT.”
There was dead silence. Neither wanted to say too much or too little—both realized their one chance hung in the balance.
“I have some questions for you,” Paula offered. “Face to face questions; I’d like to see you tonight…that’s if you don’t have plans.”
“None that can’t be broken. What did you have in mind?”
“Will “Capital Grille” around 8:00 work for you?”
“Perfect.”
More silence.
“Well, I have to go,” Paula said abruptly. “I’ve packed your things. I’ll bring them with me tonight. Please have mine.”
The heaviness on his chest and his flickering fear of loss returned. All of his hopes were dashed. “I’ll have them.”
“Thank you.” Paula hung up without another word.
Charlie clicked the phone off and rolled over. “God, if this is my do-over, I’m in trouble. She. Is. Mad!”
6:30am, Shawn rolled out of bed, leaving Stacy sleeping…or so he thought. She waited until she heard him step into the shower and joined him. Carefully, she washed the long lithe muscles of his arms, shoulders and back. She loved Shawn’s body and never understood why Julie cheated. In her opinion he was faultless in character and stature. Yes, he got into his share of devilment; yes, he could have been a bootlegging moon-shiner just as easily as he served his country…but those ‘faults’ hardly warranted adultery.
Emotionally, Shawn was rational. He wasn’t prone to expressive outbursts of anger or sadness: but he felt deeply, too deeply at times. The days leading up to an Honor Guard funeral were the hardiest. He was a patriot and once said every burial took a piece of him, however he’d never consider leaving the team. It was his duty to send each serviceman out in style. And he did. Gunters’ Honor Guard was recognized throughout the Southeast for their precision and attention to details. Their travel schedule and accolades spoke to the fact. The ladies would tag along on some of their trips but waking up at the crack of dawn and hauling ass in Tony’s truck to the backwoods of Tennessee wasn’t always in the cards for them.
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Shawn said abruptly.
Stacy rest her head on his back and she felt his hand reach back and pull her against him.
“Yes, I was going to tell you…”
“I know,” he cut her off. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”
“I’m sorry.” She mouthed into his back.
“There’s no reason to be sorry. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
“You’re not angry?”
Shawn laughed. “Why would I be angry? I was gonna marry you anyway.”
“Shut up!!!” Stacy’s scream echoed off the tiled walls and she pushed Shawn forward.
He caught his balance. “Damn woman!” Stacy scurried from the shower and he called after her. “Where are you going?”
“I’m getting dressed.” She said from the bedroom. “I can’t tell my parents you proposed while I was naked. Hurry up, get some clothes on, and go again. But be all romantic this time.”
“Great.” Shawn rinsed his hair.
It was half passed three before Paula took a breather. Working from home had its privileges but a speedy reply from the Automatic Identification System (AIS) wasn’t one of them. One would imagine having a Common Access Card (CAC) would be security enough, especially considering its heavy authentication encryption; it enabled access to DoD computers, networks, and entry controlled DoD facilities. And at Paula’s level of security, it was even encoded with her blood type.
“Come on, you damnable fudger!” Paula jiggled both cards in their external card readers. “Screw it. I’ll work on it later.” She pulled her journal from the desk drawer, her secret hiding place. I have to find a new hiding place, she thought sarcastically. Heaven forbid someone’s clever enough to discover the intricate sliding mechanism that opens my drawer.
Thankfully, the house was quiet and she wrote feverishly for hours on end. It was how she gathered her thoughts, her escapism—her Nirvana.
The pain of heartbreak is awe-inspiring. Our hearts do not break, of course, yet when love is gone, we feel it in our bone, across our skin, in every cell of our hollowed being.
Loss from the pit of our bellies crawl towards the tattered remains of our hearts, coiling its spindly fingers around in a relentless, feral death grip until it chokes the life from us one breath at a time. Fractured and impaled by grief, we go one without going on; we live without living; we touch without feeling. In that echoing absence of our hearts, we place our fears and disappointment. This bitterness, this loneliness becomes our life’s blood.
We are vacant beyond all expression. The loss of my love has left me exquisitely broken. Perfectly imperfect. Coping without hope. Existing without an existence….
“Hey, what are you writing?” Tess asked Paula from the doorway.
“I’m just scribbling,” Paula closed her journal and tucked it away. She smiled though she loathed being interrupted while she wrote.
“Can I read it?”
“Sure, if you wanna ingest your food through a feeding tube.”
Tess narrowed her eyes humorously. “You don’t scare me.”
Paula burst into laughter. “Yes, I do!” she passed Tess on her way downstairs.
“Whatever,” Tess followed. “Am I still watching Sarah tonight?”
“Yeah,” Paula grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and tossed one to Tess. “John’s hanging out with his study group and I’m meeting Charlie for dinner.”
Tess puckered her lips and stared at Paula quizzically. “Dinner my ass. You’re gonna hump him!” she said in that oh-so-Tess irritatingly contemptuous manner.
Without justifying Tess’s comment, Paula left her in the kitchen laughing hysterically. She fished between the sofa cushions for the remote and plopped down. Tess soon followed. “Are you done cracking jokes?”
“It depends. Are you pissed yet?”
“Kinda.”
“Well, I’m done.” Tess snatched the remote from Paula’s hands and began channel surfing.
“People have died for less.” Paula said calmly.
Tess rolled her eyes dismissingly. She stopped on America’s Funniest Home Video; there was a dog doing the ‘running man’.
“Turn,” Paula ordered. “If my dog ever did that, I’d shoot it.”
“What, the running man?”
“Yeah.”
Tess stood and burst into an over the top, red hair flinging running man.
“Where’s my gun?” Paula sat her water down on the table and went upstairs.
Like a stone, Tess fell to the sofa. “Paula, I’m sorry! I’m sitting now!” she shouted.
******
The balmy evening air was filled with the sounds and fragrances of spring. Paula nervously drummed her fingers on the ceramic tabletop and silently thanking God for replacing the “Bread” cover band with a jazz ensemble. Paula glanced around at the happy couples seated on the patio and secretly wanted to snuff loves’ optimism right out of their vacant little eyes. She forwent the sedatives this go round as she was horny and needed to keep her wits about her. Knowing Charlie was coming sent her body into hyper mode. Her mind may have been pissed off with him but other body parts were ready to welcome him home. She fought it tooth and nail. Their physical need for one another hadn’t waned. Kindred spirits, they were.
Charlie said a silent prayer and climbed from his truck. He caught a glimpse of Paula’s back as she sat on the patio. Her hair was pulled back and she wore his favorite: a peek-a-boo tank top and a floor length hip hugging gypsy skirt. She knows me too well, he thought. She’d constantly complain about those extra ten pounds but he’d loved her curves. He shook those images from his mind; there were more pressing matters at hand. He approached her from behind and butterflies fluttered in his stomach until she turned to him and gave a faint smile.
She stood to greet him and for a half second she forgot why she’d called him there. He was her Charlie again. But those seconds passed quickly when she took an inventory of him, her gut churned. Still handsome, but he’d lost a dramatic amount of weight; his blue eyes seemed dull, his optimistic smile was gone—the smile he flashed was forced. He looked very debonair in a Ralph Lauren shirt and chinos, his dark russet hair was flawlessly trimmed as usual but there was something missing, and though she stood less than an inch away from him, she couldn’t identify what was lacking.
“Hi,” Charlie resisted the urge to touch her though he would’ve chewed his own fingers off for the opportunity.
“Charlie,” Paula stroked his cheek, genuinely worried. “What have you done to yourself?”
He basted in the heat from her hand and smiled for her benefit. “What? I needed to lose a few pounds.”
“Not like this. How much have you lost?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know—Twenty-five maybe thirty pounds.” He saw Paula’s concern. “I’m fine. I just…” he inhaled. “I haven’t been in a good place. Neither have you, I imagine.”
“No, I haven’t,” Paula’s eyes darted to the band.
He recognized her “don’t push it” cue—pleasantries were over. “Let’s sit down.” He pulled her chair out as he’d always done before taking his seat. If Paula pinned her hopes on him pleading for another chance, she was sorely disappointed. He leaned back in his chair as the waiter delivered their menus and water glasses. He wasn’t going to temp fate and say the wrong thing. If they were meant to reconcile it would come about on its own, not because he wished it. “You wanted to ask me a few questions?”
Admittedly, Paula was somewhat taken aback by his presumed arrogance nevertheless she posed her questions. “Have you ever been attracted to Stacy?”
“Never.” He declared levelly.
“At any point in our relationship, were you tempted to cheat?”
“No.”
Paula dropped a register. “Then what happened that night?”
Charlie had recited the story countless times; this time would be no different. “I remember kissing you goodnight at the party and waking up the next morning with Stacy layin’ beside me in bed.”
Paula waited for him to continue.
Charlie lifted his eye brows. “That’s it, no more.” He began leafing through the menu. He felt her eyes staring him down. “Are those all of your questions?”
“Yeah.” Her voice tapered off, she was rather confused.
“Good! Do you want to order something?”
Paula shook her head. “I’m not that hungry.”
“Well, I’m starving. We can share if you’d like. I hear their crab cakes are delicious.”
Is that it!? Where are the tears? Paula wondered. Why isn’t he pensive? Why isn’t he apologizing? Why isn’t he begging?! Damn it, beg!
The waitress returned. Charlie ordered the crab cakes and Cajun chicken pasta. “Can you box half the pasta for her to take home?” he asked politely. With a nod the waitress was gone. “Great band tonight.”
“You’re not drinking.” Paula noted.
“I don’t drink anymore. It took making one of the biggest mistakes of my life for me to realize: Charlie and alcohol don’t mix.”
Was that an apology?
“Can I ask you a few questions?”
“Shoot.” She said. What the hell could he have to ask me about? He’s the one that screwed up, not me! And I don’t want no damn crab cakes! She calmly poured herself a glass of water.
“Do you believe I slept with Stacy?”
“No. She seems certain nothing happened and I believe her…I believe you both.”
Charlie hide a hopeful grin behind his water glass as he sipped. “Besides what’s happened, did I ever disappoint you? Did I ever neglect you?”
“No. I was perfectly happy with you.” She hesitated. “Were you happy with me?”
“Always.” His eyes crinkled softly when he smiled, and Paula wanted to reach over their small table and trace the lines. “You’ll always be my friend.”
Friend?! Isn’t that the worst compliment you could get from a man you’d hope to screw?! Why isn’t he hurling himself at my feet and telling me how much he loves me?! Paula forced a smile, while inside ‘pissed Paula’ was wrecking shop. “Yes. Friends.” She said brightly.
They talked and laughed non-stop over dinner. Charlie recounted the long “What the hell?” conversation he and Shawn had after the event. Though Shawn could’ve held a juvenile grudge, he didn’t. Their relationship hadn’t skipped a beat. In Shawn’s estimation, he couldn’t forgive one without forgiving the other. He was always even handed.
In two days time, Charlie, Tony, John and Shawn would be on Honor Guard duty for a Col. who’d passed away in Georgia. And, on account of John’s graduation preparations neither Paula, Lisa or Stacy would be in attendance. Surreptitiously, Charlie wanted Paula there—he yearned for more time with her. Nevertheless, she’d be at the graduations’ after party. Sadly, Charlie hadn’t a clue the effect his nonchalant attitude had on Paula. She toggled between post breakup confusion and rip roaring horniness. She’d had three orgasms during dinner alone…by the time they stood and danced with the other couples, his scent filled her lungs, his hands spanning her waist—she was tip-toeing towards collapse.
Charlie walked Paula to her car as if this were their first date. He opened her car door and they said their goodnights. “Are you going to call me when you get home?” Paula asked but hastily corrected herself. “I mean…to let me know you made it home safely.”
Charlie leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Darling,” his voice oozing like Southern cane syrup. “I plan on it.” The hot breath against her ear coupled with his words caused a flood of wetness between her thighs.
“Oh God.” Paula closed her eyes, she couldn’t move.
Charlie proudly licked his lips; he’d gotten her off. “Are you alright?” He watched her billowing breasts rise and fall.
“Yeah,” she coughed.
“I’ll see you later.” He kissed her forehead and walked to his car.
They never did exchange the boxes containing their belongings.
******
John’s graduation ceremony was surprisingly brief. Everyone had resolved themselves to baking in the afternoon sun; however the commencement speech was relatively short. Twenty minutes into the ceremony and it was over. The graduates stood around hugging and taking pictures…knowing they’d see one another next term; professional students, all of them. This was John’s third bachelors and second master’s degree. He was preparing himself for civilian life; he didn’t see himself retiring from the Air Force.
There was no tension between Charlie and Paula. Purposely, they sat beside one another during the ceremony in an effort to hush everyone’s concern. Actually, they enjoyed being together; it gave them time to chat.
Lisa’s house and backyard were filled to the brim with John’s family who’d flown in town and all his friends. Reluctant as he’d been, John thanked Lisa for going out of her way. It was a beautiful night filled with music and dancing; the kids running around like they hadn’t seen each other in years; an amazing spread and constant laughter. It was just what everyone needed after the last two months of glum.
Paula walked through the front door and went straight to the guest room and deposited her purse with all the others. She brushed hands over her pale yellow linen sundress—hoping no one made a big to-do. She bumped into Stacy as she walked down the hall.
“Hey there you are,” Stacy said. “Charlie’s been looking for you. He’s in the backyard.” She kept on her way to the rest room.
Paula mingled with the crowd inside and then slipped outdoors. She was immediately greeted by John’s mother and sisters. She stopped and talked with them before they were pulled in to another conversation. Her eyes danced around the yard looking for Charlie. She heard the backdoor open and close.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you.” Charlie said cheerfully.
She turned and met his sapphire eyes. “It took me a while,” she stammered, only he could make an oxford and khakis look like a million bucks. “I couldn’t find anything to wear.”
Charlie scratched the back of his head, his nervous tic. “You look pretty damn good to me.”
Paula knew she had him. Boyfriend or not, they were going home together.
“Paula,” Mark Rhodes, their pilot friend from Otis Air National Guard, walked up and hugged Paula tightly.
Paula was in shock. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since we left DC.”
“I’m in class over at the Air War College. I’ll be here for the next two months so you’re stuck with me.” He beamed. “Charlie tells me he’ll be leaving in a few days.”
Paula turned to Charlie and was met with a fake smile. She wasn’t impressed.
“Shawn and I are going to Bolling for three months.” Charlie couldn’t figure out why he felt compelled to explain himself to her yet he was. “I was gonna tell you later. Sergeant Hale volun-told us just this morning. We leave Wednesday.”
“But it’s Saturday? Why so soon?”
Charlie shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
“Hey Paula!” Tony shouted. “I asked Lisa to put on a song for you. It’s these two ladies out of the UK. I think you’ll like them.” He grabbed Marks’ arm and pulled him into a debate he was having with Shawn, leaving Charlie and Paula standing alone.
The melody came through the speakers and Paula instinctively knew she was in trouble. As it was, she could hardly keep her hands off of Charlie already and the sultry music wasn’t helping the cause. When the other couples began dancing, she knew resistance was futile.
Charlie took her hand and walked to the prefabricated dance floor. Wasting no time, he held her close. Paula was drawn into his scent. Had it not been cliché, she would have exhaled like Whitney Houston. Lord knows Charlie was worth it. Before long they were lost in one another. His hands moved over her curves and she moaned. He caressed the fullness of her hips and she trembled.
“Damn baby,” Charlie whispered close to her ear. “How many was that?”
Paula could barely think straight. “Four.”
He titled her chin upward and muttered against her lips. “I’d love the fifth one to be on my tongue.”
“Oh shit,” Paula briefly went limp and panted. The last of her ramparts gave away with Charlie’s seductive kiss. It was soft yet firm; gentle yet powerful; through the narrow portals of their joined lips, it spoke the words he couldn’t utter. And Paula’s knees liquefied.
Woefully, Charlie released her lips. “Do you think they’ll miss us?”
“Who cares. We’re leaving.” Paula said pushing Charlie threw the crowd. She stopped momentarily to tell John of her plans. She wanted long theatrical sex and didn’t need any interruptions.
In no time they were at Paula’s, in bed naked with Charlie right where he wanted to be.
“Do you know why I like eating you?” Charlie said from his position between her legs.
“No, why?”
“Because I feel like you have all this noise in your head, and when I lick your pussy I feel like it goes away—just for a little while.” He looked up at her smiling face. “I like that I can do that for you.” He gave her one tiny kiss on her mound. “Spread your thighs wider for me.”
Paula obliged.
“Now, lay back and enjoy.”
Her body melted into the bed at his first touch. Slowly he licked and kissed the outside of her pussy, his hands took turns caressing the soft skin of her thighs. The warmth of his body, the closeness of his mouth, the sheer torture of need made her tremble beneath him. His tongue snaked out and licked at her wetness. She couldn't help but groan. His hands slid under her ass and pulled her up to his mouth, and he drank from her like a vessel. His tongue began to dart in and out of her slick little hole, fucking her with it.
Charlie moaned into her, knowing the full state of arousal he’d taken her to. Ever so slowly, his tongue dragged up her slit, and lingered over her swollen clit. She gasped as he flicked his tongue over it, around it; he sucked it gently between his lips. The room went deafeningly quiet and still. The only movement was her clit pulsating under his velvety tongue. Her hands slid over her breasts and pinched her nipples between her fingers as he licked and sucked at her.
Paula’s came so many times Charlie lost count. She withered, cried and moaned but Charlie knew she was holding back. “Let go.” He muttered into her lips.
Paula shook her head back and forth. She couldn’t. As much as she wanted it, her pride wouldn’t allow it. He would’ve claimed her once more. She would be his.
Charlie sensed her hesitation and stopped.
“Charlie, please don’t stop.” She pulled him atop her and kissed him feverishly. She loved the taste of her pussy on his lips. She lifted her hips and he slowly moved inside of her. She tried to force him deeper harder faster but he refused.
“Wait, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“I want it to hurt.” Paula took his girth deeper. She wanted the pain; she wanted the soreness that came after one of their long sessions. She wanted him to fuck the events of the past months out of her head. She wanted him to fuck her like it was his religious obligation. Her pussy would be his backdoor to heaven. She wanted the pleasure and the pain. She wanted the line between the two to blur...merge and grow indistinguishable.
Pleasure exploded inside of her as she took him in completely. He pumped and pumped until she damn near ripped his head off. Her pc muscles sucked the life out of him. Her luscious round breast shook with each thrust. Charlie flipped her on top of him and sucked her nipples while she rode him—one of her favorite positions. She loved to watch his beautiful pale mouth feed on her rich brownness while she used his cock to get herself off. On top she controlled when he came. On top it wasn’t about pleasing him….it was all her and her need to abuse him, taking what was rightfully hers, his cock.
And Charlie was perfectly willing to be taken by her. He imagined the power she felt over him and it turned him on knowing within the minutes he’d turn her over and have her calling him Daddy. Which he did.
“Oh shit!” Her voice came out as a sharp cry as he began to thrust hard inside her. His hand found her breast again and pinched her nipple hard. Paula gasped, tried to remain kneeling as he assaulted her. “Don’t stop!” He was giving as much as he’d taken. Then, as suddenly as his lust began, he promptly slowed down his pace. A mewl came from Paula's throat as his other hand reached around and found her clit. He began to rub it, circling gently in time with his deep thrusts. Helplessly, her legs trembled. She was completely under his control. A roaring orgasm claimed her.
“You’re cumming for me.” Charlie leaned down and said arrogantly into the back of her neck. “I can feel you tightening around me. Have I ever told you how lovely you are when you’re cumming? You have no idea how much it gets me off.” All the while he continued to thrust inside her, bringing her closer and closer to another more powerful bone shattering orgasm. “God, I could fuck you all night.” He thrust in and out.
She began to moan louder, her body tightened with another orgasm. A sudden burst exploded through her, the waves radiating through her body. Her pussy flooded with her wetness and squeezed tight around Charlie’s cock, pulsating over and over. “Daddy” wasn’t all she cried out. His thrusts became harder and deeper and her orgasm spread over her. She clung to the headboard as he thrust into her one more time, saturating her walls with his cum.
They fell to the bed and slowly, both regained their senses. Paula lay in Charlie’s arms, with her legs clinched together, her pussy sore and aching—exactly what she’d wanted. Time slipped by before either spoke. Charlie ran his fingers up and down her length, tracing her outline.
“How are your parents doing?” He asked softly.
For some reason, that question instantly enraged Paula. Suddenly she realized he’d sucked her in again without so much as a nod of apology.
“Get out!” She pushed his arm away, leapt to her feet and threw on her robe. “Those are boyfriend questions. You’re not my boyfriend anymore. You’ve lost the right to ask me about my family!”
“Are you kidding me?” Charlie stared at Paula, brows furrowed in disbelief.
Paula didn’t answer.
“You know what?” Charlie stood from the bed and hunted for his clothes. “I will leave.”
“What!” Paula folded her arms across her chest.
Charlie pulled up his pants. “You wanted me to suffer. Fine, I suffered! I suffered because my stupid behavior hurt you—because I let you down, like I let myself down. I never claimed to be perfect, but even you acknowledged that up until this point you were satisfied.
Paula’s jaw dropped. “Then how can you give up on us so easily? You haven’t apologized once!”
“Apologize for what? You know I didn’t have sex with Stacy. What the hell am I apologizing for? For not kissing your ass? Sorry to disappoint you; it’s not going to happen.” He threw his shirt over his head and stormed from the room and down the stairs.
Pissed, Paula followed. “I don’t want you to kiss my ass. I’d like to know what’s on your mind. You’re acting like you don’t care if we get back together.”
At that Charlie turned on her. “You want me to plead!?”
“No!”
“What will it take?! Everyone has explained to you what happened! How many times do I have to say I love you before you believe me?”
“I know you love me, that’s not the point! I wanna hear you say something that’ll make me believe you want “us” again—anything that’ll convince me you care!”
Charlie grabbed Paula’s right hand and placed it over his heart. “You feel that? That’s what happens every time I think about you. That’s what has kept me going since we broke up. That’s what I gave you. That’s worth more than words. If your feelings for me are gone, then words won’t convince you anyway.” He removed his hand from Paula’s which remained on his chest. He watched tiny tears collect in her eyes and her chin trembled as if she were swallowing her reply.
Her affirmation is all he needed. It didn’t come, the heaviness returned. It was a lost cause.
Charlie backed away. “I’d better go. See you in the office. Goodnight.”
He was gone before Paula could digest what’d happened.