All of These Things (21 page)

Nathaniel’s Correspondence with Dr. Toussaint

I’m relieved Saturday’s circle is just around the corner. If group were any later than tomorrow morning, I’d consider bringing Amalia by straight away. She’s restless and acting somewhat defensive and distrustful. She’s been busy interpreting people, namely Angel Mae.

She’s in bed now, although I don’t imagine Amalia’s asleep when she’s like this. At best, she is resting. She asked me to stay the night, and it seems my conversation with her about Sandrine launched ideas. Amalia put the wheels in motion soon afterwards, which took Mae by complete surprise. That manic mode is rising to the surface. Somehow, she rationalized that I could come back and live here with her. She even prepared for my moving in while moving our daughter out. She’s packed up Caroline’s items in bags. There are black trash bags and grocery sacks lined up through the hall. It breaks my heart to see Caroline’s life collected this way—tactlessly amassed like uncomplaining autumn leaves.

I’ve instructed Mae to put Caroline’s things in their proper place when we head out to group tomorrow. I cannot let our daughter return home to this. She’s not unwanted or unappreciated. Her mother misses her in her own way—that enigmatic way we keep hearing about in therapy, the way I’ve almost grown to accept. For once, I want things black and white. For once, I’d like things to be completely explicable and less like a damn puzzle. Why is she acting like this, Dr. Toussaint? Are we in another crisis? Did I bring this on by wanting more for my daughter and rearranging my life so I can be more involved?

I should be flooded with relief that Amalia still attaches importance to me. I should be calmed and comforted that she—in her own way—does love me. But bitter-sweet seems to be the running theme in our romance story. Amalia said that once. I’m afraid she’s putting herself out there for me as she retreats into darkness again.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Relishing the warmth of the bed helps me locate my senses. The mattress was definitely expended—the sheets in a shambolic state—and in general, the bedroom is a hot, clammy lair. Thrice, we carried on that way, each time unprecedented. The things Alec did to me—the things I discovered I could do to him—stripped more fantastic layers I couldn’t have even imagined, and after some pillow talk, we drifted off to sleep.

There was novelty to our entanglement: a sultry, dizzying high of an imbroglio I’ve never known. My body exulted at the sound of his lungs raising a ruckus and the moans that clearly suggested a highly pleased man.

I’m more conscious of where I am now, sprawled on Alec’s side, monopolizing the bed. Perhaps, I think, that’s why he isn’t here, and I’m waking up alone. I’ve always been an edge-of-the-bed kind of person, leaving my mother the option of resting how she pleased, but I’ve obviously been too free and relaxed with Alec. His scent is stamped on his pillow.

“Morning, love,” Alec pipes up, and I’m a fumbling, giddy mess. “Don’t move, sweetheart. I’m nearly done.”

His voice does that thing that it does, making everything right in the world, except I do move and jerk up, dragging some of the sheets with me. I collect myself enough to bring my knees on the bed, sitting on the back of my legs. My hair spills in tumbles over my breasts, and my body shivers a tad.

Alec regards me, beaming what? Incredulity? His rapt attention for me is overwhelming, pulsating my bloodstream.

He sags in the rocking chair.

“Perhaps I should have said to move so I could expect the opposite from you,” he teases. “Bloody hell, you’re a goddess, Caroline.”

“I thought you left,” I say as he deposits his supplies and begins to make his way to me.

“Do you need me to leave?” he asks, ashen.

“No, but I woke up hogging the bed, and you weren’t here. I thought you found somewhere more comfortable to sleep.”

“Now what could be more comfortable than your delectable body?” He crawls on the bed to reach me. I fall back as Alec moves up to connect with my mouth, my blissful hum harmonizing with his delightful grumble. He packs up his red, swollen lips—cutting them off from my famished mouth. His skin is hot against mine, and his glorious arms cage my head. I squirm, a sweeping gaze bears just how raging his need is.

He plants a kiss on my lips, running his mouth between my breasts, and gnaws at the bundle of nerves I clamp between my thighs. A shock wave bumps me onto my elbows, shuddering. Alec peers up to meet my anticipation, his eyes telling me he’s suffered a little death with me, too.

“I want more of that,” he cautions salaciously.

Snappily, Alec’s at my side, leaving me cold and restless in the midst of throbbing vulnerability. It’s for a brief, painful second because Alec rolls on his back and takes me with him, my head resting on his bare chest, my hand grazing the top of his jeans.

He nestles his chin in my hair and coils his legs around mine.

I’m feeling significantly less confident with my nudity, worrying about the condition of my hair, the state of my breath. Although, his proximity has evoked renewed fervour in me, and I sense his desire has flickered to life, too. I snuggle deeper, and I’m certain his body is entirely awake.

“Have you been up for long?” I ask, the pun entirely unintended.

“Not quite two hours,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind, but you’ll be in deep slumber in my drawing.”

“That’s okay,” I assent, “but I expect a rain check on my favourite chair.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I can guarantee you that. In fact, I’ve already imagined different poses in that big, comfy chair of yours.”

“Is that so?”

“Two poses, really,” Alec carries on. “In the first, I’m happy to say I’m fairly implicated, but in the other it is all you, sweetheart.”

My eyes narrow. A hand flies to smack Alec’s shoulder, and he catches it, kissing it till shivers course through my skin. He tantalizes me with licks, and that undaunted, expert, tongue of his conjures up memories of the lengths it will go to. I press my legs together, quelling the debilitating longing at their highpoint. The attention there was new and unnerving, but I wasn’t intimidated or fazed for long. There was an inexplicable fluency between our bodies, even in the most intense hours, a familiarity and understanding between us. I’ve known Alec for mere days, and the awareness, or know-how and ease was like a sixth sense.

He turns, hovering atop me. Alec’s arms enclose me, and he kisses me aggressively. His savage, frenzied ones may have become my favourite. I enjoyed blathering away with him last night. At the start, our conversations were awkward, even inviting our families into bed with us, but they turned out to be important to chat about. Actually, I was eager to acquaint Alec with Noni since he’s always hearing about my parents, and I became familiar with his Grams.

It was after midnight when he asked, “After water, or swimming, what is another fear I should know of? Tell me something else that scares you, love.” He traced the contour of my face with a fingertip.

My heart leapt into my mouth.

We were draped under a single, lightweight throw-cover, huddled and cushioned on one another. I didn’t flinch or push away. Instead, Alec clasped his hands behind my back, making me melt there as he became my skin.

“I’m not really sure,” I told him. “I fear my mother. I fear she’ll rebound one day, and speaking of, I’ll have to call her in a few hours. She’s due in therapy in the morning.” I yawned. “It’s Saturday.”

Alec tensed, sucking in air.

“Don’t remind me,” he said, drawing me closer.

“Why? What’s today?” I asked, pinning my ear against his heartbeat.

Alec’s arms swallowed me up possessively.

“The day before you leave.” The words troll through his hefty exhale.

And there it was again, that looming storm cloud holding the conversation we needed to have. We lay sweaty and packed together as one into the middle of the night, tiptoeing around the impending threat. It’s not enough that I’ve decided to confess to Ryan and admit our relationship has expired because there will always be Mom.

Her demanding presence doesn’t make Alec apprehensive as much as it disquiets me. I’m anxious to find a balance, more so than I ever was with Ryan, but I’m nervous to discover I may never be able to equalize the people in my life. This thing with Alec isn’t a superficial or perishable occurrence for me. I won’t suddenly think better of what we have accumulated, here, in Maine. I won’t lose my nerve upon seeing Ryan, although I do fear the extent of the regret and hurt he’ll suffer because of me. I care for Ryan, and as cliché as it’ll sound when I say the words out loud, it won’t make them any less true. This really is a situation where
it’s not you, it’s me
. It totally is about me having been nowhere near ready to embark on a relationship when I met a great guy at Starbucks.

I won’t back away from what Alec and I commenced, even if I am terrified, and it’s moving at the speed of light. It won’t be straightforward for us. I’ll need to evaluate how Mom kept up while I was away, and I need to plot a scenario that will leave room for me to commit to other important people in my life. I’m overwhelmed by the enormity of wanting to invite Alec into my reality, but so many issues need to be ironed out before I do. I know, with all accuracy, that all the things that made up who I was in Montreal, and who I partly am now, will kick me back into coherence the minute I cross the border, and that’s exactly what Alec’s afraid of.

“My big fear was becoming an orphan,” I said to him, rubbing my toes along his shins. “But I already blabbed about this to you.” Crickets lulled my mind through the open window.

“I want to know more,” Alec pressed.

Somehow, that filled me with joy, and I thought,
I think I love this man
. I think we can be magnificent together, but before I willingly let my worlds collide, there are pieces of me I need to pick up on my own.

“I was afraid my Dad would finally give up on us, and if my mother was re-institutionalized, then I’d be sent away to some youth home, or with a foster family.” It felt so redeeming to speak out. I could never take anything away from Dr. Toussaint’s experience, but family therapy was never this healing. Alec is a wholly cathartic presence I love to become lost in.

“Sofie’s mother worried me the most,” I confessed. “I was always afraid Aunt Mara would convince my Dad we weren’t worth his time or energy. That was a huge fear for me, and I’m not sure I really ever worked around it. It’s silly, but for the longest time I’ve been insecure about my place in the world.”

Time crawls so exquisitely slow when I’m connected to Alec, enveloped in his affection, and aware of his devotion. I find it all irresistible this morning as I recall our night that was truly love in the making.

“I hate knowing that,” he said. “I hate knowing you went through any of that without me. I would have shown you otherwise—convinced you that you belonged close to me.” Alec rolled over to gaze down at me. “Love, where is your mother’s family in all of this? I haven’t heard a word about them, and truth be told, I’m starting to form a bad opinion.”

It’s surprising how a sluggish mind can still function as a revolving door. I walked briskly through it, catching memory after memory, being hit in the face with harsh truths. I let the words drop.

“We don’t really mingle with them,” I said. “My grandfather was a widower very early on, and my mother’s brothers are as ignorant as he was. They just don’t understand her condition. My Uncle Michael though, he’ll send money once a year to make himself feel better, but I’ve been warned never to let his wife know. She’s convinced Mom’s an attention seeker, and Uncle Steven,” I tack on, “just ignores the fact that she’s even alive. She embarrassed him enough in his lifetime, and as a product of her promiscuity, he’s okay with not getting to know me, either. My father can’t stand either of them. Dad can’t even think about them without feeling sick.”

“As he should!” Alec’s emanating rage bursts. “Tell those wankers to piss off! Those gormless, weak-minded, arses. Don’t take his money, love. Unless you’re putting it aside for your Mum, but I want to supersede that for you. You don’t need anything from that lazy sod. That maggot!” Alec sat up, his back erect against the headboard, and I scrambled closer. His hand ran up and down my arm as I searched his serious gaze. “And the other one! The bloody nerve deserting you like that. Well, if I didn’t already have the utmost respect for your father, love, I definitely feel it now. Good for him. None of you need those pillocks, I assure you.”

Tears blurred my eyes. Alec stared down, coaxing me to feel my value in his long, steady look. My fingers were restless through the fine hairs on his chest, gliding unconsciously through them and dancing on his brawny upper body. I looked up again when his thumb raised my chin, and the blast of adoration I received from his blazing, sapphire eyes was startling. They vaporized my doubts and fears, pushing the very important people in my life slightly back.

“You stay right here and sleep with me, love.” He dragged the blanket entirely over me. “I don’t like it when you’re so shattered. I’ve got you, Caroline.”

As Alec’s voice became foggy, and his arms an anchor, I wafted off to sleep. My inner child sailed tranquilly off on a sea breeze as I stayed behind, happily caught in Alec’s net.

A carpenter drill penetrates through a squawking riot from a beach mob. Laying here, in bed, under the morning light, I picture the noisy colony of scavengers skimming the shore, harassing humans in anticipation for what’s to come out of their coolers. I’ve become used to the assault, and I’ll even miss it when I’m gone. I’ll miss this room and the clawfoot bathtub. I’ll miss my chair, and I know I’ll be desperate for Alecsander. We’ll have to reach a resolve about us, deciding on the
when
and
where
we’ll pick up again, once I’m gone. All the pure emotion and sensation of the night has given way to more rational thought today.

I bury my face in the luxurious heat and comfort that only Alec supplies me with—my fervid clasp suggesting the holiday is the only thing reaching an end for us. The telltale signs of morning continue to rise from the kitchen. The smell of sizzling butter, coffee, and the clanking of tableware suddenly freaks me out.

“Did you hear Sofie and Jay come in?” I cringe. “Do you think they heard us?”

Rays of sunlight dazzle Alec’s already alluring smile. As embarrassing as that would be, happiness sparkles inside of me. Joy bubbles up at the rest of the world knowing he and I are definitely some kind of complex and heady thing.

“I’d say there’s a pretty good chance of that.” He winks.

I’m suddenly hot with mortification. Sofie will
never
let me live this down.

“Oh, God.”

“Oh, I’m relatively certain He heard you, too, given how many times you called out for Him.” Alec’s smile is askew.

I sink my face into his arm, biting at his shoulder, trying to recover dignity.

“Maybe you should have done that last night if you didn’t want to be heard,” he says spinning me over him, and my hair falls around us. Alec presses his fingers into each dune under my lace panty, and I arch my back instinctively, sanctioning the flushing orbs deeper into his palms.

“Do you have any idea how breathtaking it is for me to see you become so brave? To see you come undone in my hands? To fall apart on top of me and watch you unravel under me?” he murmurs. “You drive me insane.” Alec glides his fingers through the slit, and slips a hand through it until it lands on a particularly sensitive spot, circumnavigating the slickness it uncovers.

I kiss him and swallow his groan, stroking his tongue with mine, and lick around the velvety gulf of his mouth. I think my eyes are black with desire, my vision gloriously blinded, and I begin to try to prove to Alec that I may want him more,
need
him more than he could ever crave me.

“Sweetheart, you look and smell of gin, sex, and quite frankly, of
me
,” Alec says, making half attempts to acquire his shirt. It grazes loosely over me, and my breasts bud pertly under it.