The Scarlet Letter Society (7 page)

But when Zarina heard the women talking about another book selection, she couldn’t help but chime in.
Anna Karenina?
Ugh. Zarina had an immediate sneaking suspicion the women would not enjoy trudging through the 1852 Tolstoy classic. She’d read it herself in her last semester at college. At the meeting, Maggie had come in with the Anna Karenina opening quote,

“
Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way
.”

It was true the women often talked about their own families—whose parents were divorced (Lisa), whose mother was getting a bit senile (Eva), and who was orphaned as a kid (Maggie, who spent a fortune in therapy trying to get over those years that were so difficult to forget). But Zarina knew the book would end up being torture, if any of them even got through the tome. So she approached Maggie.

“I hate to interrupt,” said Zarina. “And of course I’m happy to order you ladies any book you want. But I’m not sure any of you will like reading this one.” Zarina understood their desire to find wisdom and meaning in adulterous literature. But there was no sense letting them read voluminous Tolstoy about a woman treated as a social outcast…especially since Anna committed suicide at the end by hurling herself in front of a damn train.

“What about
Fear of Flying
by Erica Jong?” asked Zarina. She knew Maggie’s shop was named for the 70s novel, as was her daughter Erica, who Zarina had gone to school with as a kid.

“Oh, for the love of baby Jesus,” Maggie had said, laughing. “How have we not read it already?” She told Zarina to order copies just before they left.

She was looking forward to reading it. Her mom had spoken fondly of the “feminist bible,” and she was eager to see what Jong’s take on the whole infidelity thing would be.

It was barely 7 am as Eva sat in her eighth floor office building near Union Station in Washington, D.C. She thought about her boys. After a week of being “unplugged”, she thought the boys had learned their lesson and hopefully wouldn’t get busted doing stupid shit again.

Disciplining the boys had triggered her memory of the kinds of discipline that were doled out in her home as a kid. Her dad would drink, get drunk, scream at her mother for some ridiculous housewife violation—the laundry was piled up, why was the dishwasher not emptied, why couldn’t she
just vacuum this fucking room?
And then, on the bad days, he would hit her. Eva and her sister would hide in their bedroom closet until it was over.

Stay out of his way, just stay out of his way
. When the attacks came, whether verbal or physical, Eva’s mother would look down shamefully, never yelling back, never fighting. She just took it. To this day, living alone on the island, her abusive drunk asshole of a husband long dead, she was as vacant as an abandoned motel. It was like life had battered her down into a state of complacency that amounted to just waiting to die.

Eva found herself getting lost in her thoughts a lot. It was difficult to concentrate at work when she had so much going on in her personal life. The paperwork stacked on the desk in front of her demanded her attention for the big trial coming up. She wanted to prepare for it, but thoughts of her troubled marriage, wayward sons, New York chef lover, and her intern Ron, were constantly getting in her way.

The monthly visits to Maryland’s Eastern Shore were the only time she really had to herself to try to put her life into some kind of perspective. Her mother’s cottage on Matthew’s Island had a separate small caretaker’s cottage where Eva stayed when she visited. Her mom had become more and more forgetful as time went on, and once a month was the minimum Eva could visit in order to make sure her mother was getting along okay.

“Going to your happy place?” asked Ron as he peeked his blond head around the corner into her office door.

Ron walked in, observing Eva staring at the enormous vintage apothecary jar on the corner of her desk. It was filled with sea glass she found on the island. It was a hobby she’d picked up from her mom. Searching for the worn pieces of glass tossed onto the beach by the Chesapeake Bay was her personal form of relaxation-therapy even. She’d check the low tide charts, then ride a bike over to the hidden spot she’d found where the best variety of colors could be found. The most typical colors- white, brown, and green were found in abundance but the jar before her held only the pale turquoise she loved best. Though she had jars filled with other colors at the cottage, her office collection represented her favorite color, each piece collected at a moment of peace not otherwise found in her life.

Eva smiled at Ron. He was gorgeous in his sleek black suit, perfect grin, huge blue eyes staring at her eagerly.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” she said.

Ron walked over and closed the door.

“You know, you never invite me on your New York trips,” he said, smiling at Eva. “I’d love to get out of DC once in a while.”

“Yeah, sometime we’ll have to do that,” said Eva, immediately thinking that she’d have to find a reason to stay in a different hotel, because there was no way in hell she could stay at her usual Plaza suite and have the worlds of her two very different lovers collide. “But for now, why don’t we get out of here and take a coffee break?”

“And by coffee break, I am guessing you mean at my apartment?” Ron beamed at her, acting surprised at the invitation.

She grabbed her purse and they left the office separately, walking the few blocks to his apartment building.

“What’s the matter today?” asked Ron as they walked up the steps and into his loft space apartment in an old warehouse building. “You look a world away.” Eva sat on a tan leather chair, plopping her feet on its ottoman as Ron fixed cups of coffee for both of them. She asked for Bailey’s in hers. When he returned from the small kitchen, she saw that he had unbuttoned his yellow Oxford shirt, smiling as he walked over to her with the steaming cup.

“Oh, it’s nothing, just thinking about my day,” said Eva. “Which looks like it might be getting better already.”

Ron’s black pants hung low on his hips. His blond hair was tousled, and Eva admired his perfect chest and abs as he put the coffee down on the table next to where she was seated. She took two long swallows of the coffee, not minding the heat burning down through her chest.
What is that thing called
, Eva wondered, as she ran her hand over that smooth area of skin just inside Ron’s hip bones, that amazing V-shaped valley thing? Whatever its name, there wasn’t a doubt it was singlehandedly responsible for the wrecking of homes and the falls of empires.

“Well, let’s start your day off right,” said Ron as he leaned down in front of her seat. Since they had texted about a “coffee break” just this morning, he knew she wouldn’t have wasted time wearing panties underneath her short gray designer skirt. Panties would be in her Coach bag, nice and clean for the office later.

Eva removed her blouse and placed it neatly over a nearby chair. She wore only a cream lace bra and the skirt. She picked up the mug of coffee and sipped it again, knowing it was about to get cold. She smiled at her young lover.

“Whenever I see you before work, I know it’s going to be a good day,” said Eva. Ron hiked up her skirt. She lifted her hips and sat on the back of the overstuffed chair. She unfastened the zipper of her skirt as he gently kissed the insides of her thighs. She mentally high-fived herself for remembering to shave the tops of her legs.

Ron’s hands were strong but gentle. He ran them up the sides of her legs, across the sides of her tiny waist, and slowly up that magical spot next to her breasts. She shivered, goosebumps rising on her thin frame, her nipples growing hard. She moaned quietly, willing his hands to graze across her breasts. As he kneeled on the chair in front of her, she deftly used her feet to acknowledge his growing erection.

He smiled and as he stood up to disrobe, Eva admired his body once again. She slid down the back of the chair so she was seated in front of his obvious arousal. They had only been lovers for a few months; she’d interviewed him for the position he’d take after he completed law school, which was just last month. But by now, she
knew his body well. She took him into her hands, and using what she considered a fine skill set, she began licking and teasing him until he was both moaning and fully excited. He throbbed with desire, and she loved feeling that in her mouth. Quietly cursing her gag reflex, she used the spray she’d grabbed from her purse to spritz the back of her throat. She gently but firmly grasped him, using her lips to stimulate him. Her other hand grabbed his amazing ass. She felt his knees get weak as she continued, stopping before he got too close to orgasm.

Then suddenly he used his strong arms to cup her body and scoop her off the chair. Ron carried her into the bedroom and tossed her on the bed playfully. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He knelt, now kissing the insides of her thighs with more urgency.

Eva was never good at accepting oral sex. She felt guilty she wasn’t doing anything to stimulate the guy, had difficulty relaxing enough to enjoy it, and found it really took too long for her to come this way, adding more guilt. She cursed her inner guilty Catholic, trying to relax and enjoy.

Then she had an idea. The bed had sturdy wooden sides. She was in fantastic shape from practicing yoga three times a week, so she slid her body down toward the kneeling (and somewhat surprised-looking) Ron. Using her strong arms, she held her weight up on the wooden side rail and slid over him. The squat position gave her complete control, and she rose up and down, gliding her hips in a circular fashion that made both Ron and Eva moan with pleasure.

Finally, back in control.

Maggie and Wes sat down at their window table overlooking Fritchie Creek on the lovely early summer day in Keytown. Bento boxes at Café Tokyo were their favorite lunch.