Date: Sat, 23 Jan 2010 14:34:58 -0800 (PST) From: Mas P Subject: To Cali and Back Just a little something until I get a really long story proof read. These characters are fictional. If they resemble anyone in any way then that's a coincidence. Hope you like it. If you'd like to fan my ego, or take it down a notch then hit me up at: maspgurl@yahoo.com To Cali and Back By Mas Our friendship was as natural as the sunrise. It began freshman year then grew, until by third year we were practically living in each others apartments. Joanna Thomas. Just saying her name made my heart stutter. I'm corny like that. I called her Joan and felt damn good about that too because only a select few got the privilege. We were really a group of four who hung out. Joan, who was from Miami but moved with her mom to Canada, Gary a guy from Bangledesh, Karen a girl from Ottawa and me, Bertrice but everyone called me Berti. I'm from the West Indies though I practically grew up here in Toronto. I was an upper year architecture student by that time and Joanna was an upper year literature and english major. She loved her literature and was the person who got me into the Jane Austen's, Bronte sisters and more names that I can barely remember. Before that the only books I liked to read were mystery novels that I could pick up the same time I bought groceries. "No Berti, you will not read this garbage. Come, let me show you real writing." She'd repeatedly tell me when we shopped together, which was a lot, since I liked to cook for her. Some days I'd end up on her couch and simply listen to her recite some poem by Keats or part of some play by Shakespeare and never think of a better place to be. I used those times to watch her. I didn't realize back then just how much I cared about her, I thought it was normal for her to be reading me poetry and prose and for me to be cooking her dinner. I thought that everyone did that. Little did I know back then... She was a blonde, and a real one at that. Her hair was of the enviable kind; long and shiny and seemed to move with every toss of her head. She had fair skin and light brown eyes that were almost always smiling, unless you got her angry, which I liked to do occasionally just to see them darken. Then they'd turn this deep sienna brown that I only found when I mixed paints. Her nose was like a little child's, cute and a little pug, I frequently pulled it and always got a punch in the stomach for my efforts though I think she secretly liked it when I did. Her lips were the most interesting though. They reminded me of the actress Scarlett Johansson's, except they weren't as full. But they were full enough to constantly draw my attention. She never needed lipstick though because they almost always were a pretty red. More and more I caught myself gazing at them, watching her moisten them or bite on them. I loved staring at her, I guess everyone loves to stare at beautiful people, but Joan was different, she didn't seem to be aware of her beauty. I, of course, enjoyed reminding her of it whenever I had a chance. One afternoon the four of us sat talking about relationships at my place after a long day at school. I was just ending one with a self-centered prick named Kaleed. After telling them all about it and receiving their sympathy I learned that Joan hadn't been in a serious relationship since the last semester of freshman year. This surprised me since I almost always saw her talking to some guy when we bumped into each other in school. Of course now I remembered that she'd leave them to talk to me every time but it never clicked that she'd been single since then. Gary was telling us about some girl he was going out with and about how great she was, but Karen squeezed out the fact that they were sleeping together after only two dates. "You're such a guy Gary." I said throwing a pillow at him. "What?!" He asked incredulously. "She's hot man!" "I've wondered about that you know?" Joan said quietly. Though she said this out loud I had a feeling it wasn't meant for us to hear. "About what?" Karen asked. "About my hotness...or lack there of. About maybe if it's the reason why I haven't been in a relationship for a while." I looked at her like she had three eyes. She had to be kidding, she was gorgeous, and Gary practically told her the exact, same thing. She laughed gently. "You think you're too hot?" I asked confused, thinking that perhaps is was what she meant. "No, not if I'm too hot, about if I'm not hot enough." Karen decided to be the one to talk some sense into her and told her what I was thinking. That she was insane and that her mirrors practically worshipped her and that maybe she just wasn't focused on it, relationships that is, so it could be why nothing's really been happening in that corner. She seemed to brighten up at this, but I studied her. It was that kind of brightening up that was meant to make everyone think that you were okay. It was meant to get us to back off. Her revelation stuck with me for the rest of the night though. Later that night I joined her in the kitchen as she got drinks for everyone. She still looked a little down. "You know when I first saw you I was like, 'Is she lost or somethin'? This is not Vogue magazine ya know.'" I got a laugh out of her. "You always have a way with words Berti." She said as she leaned next to me against the counter. "Then I got to know you," I continued. "I realized that you had so much more than just a pretty face," at this she looked up at me. I was taller than her at 5'-8 and smiled when I saw that I had her attention. "I saw an intelligent mind, a smart woman with dreams and goals that completely eclipsed what I had set for myself." I raised my hand when I saw her about to protest. "Yes, I know I have some cool dreams and stuff, but you, since the first year we met you were so focused you know? And you had and still have this light that just glows from inside that makes everyone feel so warm and fuzzy inside." I rubbed at my arms as if trying to get warm, stopping only when she giggled. "So I'm like a furnace?" She said smiling at me, her confidence getting stronger with each second. "Yes! No! Not a furnace silly." I growled, poking her in the side. I sobered though wanting her to know how I felt and saw her. "You're beautiful Joan, inside and out and I don't want you to ever doubt that, especially when you're around me." I said as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "You're the most beautiful person that I know." I said and felt her sigh against my chest. "Thank you Berti." She said then wrapped her arms around my waist. It astounded me how someone as lovely as she was could harbor insecurities about herself, but I was happy that I was there to set the record straight. We didn't see the shadow that slowly backed away from the kitchen doorway. I was cooking for Joan; it was the beginning of our winter semester in fourth year. I was working on my thesis and Joan on hers, a very long literature paper. She was writing on the story of Jane Eyre, by one of the Bronte sisters she bragged about as if they were best friends. "This woman writes so beautifully." She'd suddenly exclaim and I'd look over at her from the kitchen as if she were crazy. She'd have her papers spread over my drawings as my lamp shone down on her. I had my desk pressed up against a huge floor to ceiling window; so her hunched over a book with the lamp shining on her and the back ground of the city was always a stunning sight. "Listen to this..." she said and began to read a passage in her pretty voice, sometimes deepening it comically when a male entered the dialogue. "God! I want to write a fraction as well as she does one day!" She exclaimed as she closed the book reverently. I tirelessly teased her about the way she treated her books. Sometimes walking towards her with a book held up as if in sacrifice. "You do," I replied, "You just haven't given it to a publisher yet smarty pants." I added as I squeezed a lime into the pot of stewed lamb that was simmering on the stove. Joan was in love with my West Indian cooking and I was in love with cooking for her. She called me her personal chef and I called her my personal test bunny. My mother who visited last year was charmed by her when she couldn't hold back her attack of compliments. "You cook so good Ms. Goodman!" My mom would only look at me as if to ask, "Doesn't she eat Berti?" I'd shake my head as if all hope was lost. I was the only soul on this earth who she allowed to read her stories. She had three so far, and each one was beautifully written. She wanted to submit them to a publishing house or magazine but didn't have the courage. So instead she asked me to read them. "Berti, those stories are just for fun and you know it." She said as she stood up and followed her nose to the kitchen leaning over the stove. Her eyes filled with hunger. "Joan, those stories are beautiful and better than most of the 'crap' that you like to dis so much." I said as I poked her side. She yelped and jumped back. Then she grabbed my waist from behind making me laugh. "You're messing around with a woman with a spoon in her hand." I informed her as I stirred the pot then put on two sweet corns to boil, I checked on the sweet potatoes in the oven then turned around in her tight embrace. I grinned when I saw her eyes light up at the spoon that neared her lips. She leaned back a little as I slipped the spoon into her mouth. Her eyes slid close and my mouth went dry. This wasn't the first time I had a reaction like this. It really began last year, when we went shopping and she tried on dress after dress, each one getting sexier as time went by. A scooped-back here, a halter there until finally deciding on a short red mini that I told would turn heads for sure. Right now, however, she wasn't trying on any dresses, she wasn't even showing an extra ounce of flesh and like me, was covered in a thick sweat suit. She was only licking a spoon. I'm attracted to her, I thought surprised. I remember feeling no fear or depression or confusion. I just thought, so that explains it! "I can die in your kitchen Berti," she mumbled as she licked her lips. I had to tear my eyes away. "Please don't do that, I doubt I'd want to cook in here again." I said then sighed dramatically. "Then I'd have to find a new apartment, then move, then find someone else to test my new recipes on-omph!" I yelped as she punched my stomach. I grabbed her arms and dragged us from the kitchen into the living room where we both plopped down in the couch laughing and trying to out-maneuver each other. I won of course, with my height and heavier build. I was laughing hard at her contrite look. "Awww. Little Joan mad cause she's so wittle?" I said in a sing-song voice that I knew she hated. My laughter faded though when I saw the light in her eyes darken. This happened from time to time too, but this time, it was different. It wasn't anger or annoyance. This time they darkened with...with longing. Wow, I thought as I watched them. It was like watching the shifting and darkening of the sky as the sun crawled back into the horizon. Then her next words blew me away even more. "You really are beautiful you know." She said as if seeing me for the first time. I smiled at that, unsure of how to respond, she'd never said something like that to me before with such emotion. Me, trying to ease away the tension asked her who'd been saying differently so that I could poison them with my food. "No...I mean, I was talking with some friends and one of them asked if you had a boyfriend..." she trailed of looking shy. "Or...or a girlfriend." When she stuttered out the last part I rose up taking most of my weight off her but positioned myself between her and the back of the couch. "Really?" I asked. "And who, if I might ask, has been checkin' me?" My dialect always cracked her up, but not today. Today she was pretty serious. "Well this girl named..." then she caught herself and closed her mouth. "Why? You gonna go find her now or something?" She asked as her eyes turned to slits and glared at me. I laughed at what I saw in them. There was a faint but very present streak of jealousy just behind the surface. Interesting. "Well I might, does that bother you?" I asked, my eyebrows nearing my hairline with each word. "Hmph. That's what I get for swelling your head." "Swelling my head? But you haven't even told me what she said yet!" I said then tickled her side, causing her to squirm next to me. "Okay, okay, uncle!" She shouted. "Ain't no uncle 'round here honey." I said laughing, "Say Berti the great." "Berti the great! Stop!" She shouted laughing. "I'll tell you dammit!" She grabbed at my hand and wiped her tears away with the other. "She said..." "Yes?" "She said, and these are her exact words, that you were very pretty...beautiful and walked with a queen-like elegance and spoke to a person as if they were the only person on earth, and..." "What else?" I asked enthused now as I watched a slow blush make its way up her throat. I wondered would it would be like to follow it with my lips. "No I can't, the rest is too naughty." I smiled at her choice of words. "Maybe I like it naughty Joan." I said looking directly at her getting lost once again in her eyes. She seemed to become just as lost as me. "That's what she said." "What?" I was out of it now, my eyes on her lips. A slow stirring started low in my stomach. "She said that you probably gave all of your attention to that person when you made love and would make their experience very, very...intense." Somehow I had a feeling that "intense" wasn't the word this mystery girl used. "That's a lot of words for little old me." I said as I tried to count to specks of yellow in her irises. "No it's not, you're beautiful." She said then reached up and touched my face. "And she's an English major." The last was added as if it explained it all. Maybe some of it, but not why Joan's hands were moving across my cheek, my lips. Why I liked her hands on me. It didn't explain that at all. I never had any trouble finding boyfriends, with my tall, athletic build that I maintained by jogging on the weekends and my natural hair that I allowed to grow out into a controlled fro that I twisted and untwisted to make it look like a mass of wild curls. My features were full, my eyes were slightly upturned, my skin a dark brown. Company wasn't an issue, but I never felt as beautiful as I did that moment when those words left Joan's mouth. Her mouth. I didn't know what I was doing until my lips were on hers that night. It felt good, it felt like home. It felt like"Why the hell am I not doing this every day!?!". I sighed against her and felt her hand move to my neck as her mouth moved against mine. I felt her lips open slightly and slipped my tongue in gently searching out until I found hers. I rubbed against her tongue, moving the way my instincts told me to move. She tasted like candy, sweet, and I could have gotten lost there but we both decided, together it seems, to step back. To stop it before we pushed too far and stepped out of the familiar space of friendship into a place foreign to us both. When I finally pulled my lips from hers I opened my eyes. Her lips were rosy now from our kiss and glistened in the very faint light from the window. I remember thinking triumphantly, I did that! My senses seemed to be awakened that night; I smelled every scent in that apartment. Every seasoning in the dinner on the stove, the perfumes that we both wore, the scent of her shampoo, her skin, the taste of her lips, the feel of them against mine, the feel of her hand on my neck. I felt alive. Then her eyes opened and I held my breath; expecting to find something dreadful in the light brown orbs. But no, I saw the same eyes I always did, except this time something else shone in them; an awareness. We both seemed to wake up from a long, long sleep that evening. "Let's eat." I said as I brushed a strand of hair from her skin. We pushed that night to the back of our consciousness. It seemed to be too much to process with us trying to tie up fourth year too. That was the explanation that I gave myself every night. It didn't fly though because if I had time to lay awake at night thinking about that kiss, then I had time to process what it meant. So in reality, we were both ignoring it, both of us too scared to say anything. We never spoke about it, though whenever she came by, which was a lot after that, she blushed whenever she looked at the couch after that night. That couch seemed to be the only link, the only thing that was proof that it actually happened. We never told anyone about it. To me it was special and no one else deserved to know about it. Me and my selfish ways back then, but I stuck to my guns and never uttered a word. I continued to cook for her and she continued to read to me, even until the last night I was in Canada. I decided to get my masters in California. This nearly broke her heart though I didn't find this out until years later, but we can't get ahead of ourselves. I decided to go to California at the recommendation of a professor and she decided to stay in Canada and get her masters and Ph. D in literature so that she could teach at the university level. We both thought long and hard about what we wanted to do, and where we wanted to go. So why did I feel like I was tearing a part of me out when I knew that this was the best choice for me? I had no answer for my questions then. No way to make sense of why it felt so horrible to see the sad smiles of encouragement from Joan. So I decided to do what we humans are so good at; ignore it, put up that wall of camouflage and maybe it will go away, blend into the background. The night before I was scheduled to leave was the closest that we ever came to addressing that kiss. She held my hand in her apartment; I was sleeping there since mine was already occupied. We stood at her window looking out at the busy street below. Everyone looked like little ants, driving around in little ant cars. I'm going to miss this city. I looked at Joan and saw the glimmer of a tear in her eyes. It seemed to be holding on to her bottom eyes lashes for dear life and I remember wanting to take that tear and keep it safe. Keep it to remind me that she cared enough to cry for me. Before that I couldn't recall anyone ever caring enough to cry for me. Finally it slipped from her eye lash and shimmered in the dark. "We'll keep in touch." I said looking at out hands. Wishing then that I didn't decide to go so far away from her; from home. She nodded her head and looked at our hands too. "You're going to be a very great architect Berti." She said then glanced back at the wall where I had one of my renderings framed for her. It was a beach house that I called Jaon's Bungalow. It was for a project that I did very well on and she was flattered that I named it after her. "You won't forget me will you Berti?" she asked earnestly. "Never Joan. Never." I enveloped her into a hug then, breathing in her scent, trying to burn it into my mind. Tattoo it onto my brain so that it never went away. A horn blasted outside and an ambulance siren bleared and slowly died away leaving in its absence only the sound of her heartbeat and a heavy sigh. "When I come back we're going back to the zoo like every month." I said and saw her eyes light up. She loved the zoo and the times that we went we had loads of fun, coming home nearly dead from exhaustion and stuffed with God knows what. She looked away though, not voicing what I saw clearly in her eyes. If I came back. "I never regretted it." She said. I immediately knew what she meant. "Neither did I," I replied and she smiled, looking relieved. I wanted to kiss her again right then but knew it wouldn't be right. To start something that would burn us up, then just leave. It would be suicide. "Let's go to bed." She said and I nodded in agreement. I turned to the futon that she had in the living room that I usually slept on but she tugged at my hand. "No, sleep with me tonight Berti, please. I just...I'm just gonna miss you s-so m-much." She said finally breaking down, her last words barely recognizable as she sobbed, quickly placing her hand to her mouth. I grabbed her then and hugged her, shushing her all the way to her room. "I know." I said, willing my eyes not to tear. Someone's gotta stay strong right? I asked myself. I bit my bottom lip as she sobbed against me. We made it to the bed and we held onto each other as her heart released the sadness that had been hanging over her for the past week. When she quieted a little I gently took off her shirt and jeans, then got out of bed and dug around in her draw for one of her favorite t-shirts. I slipped it on her and had to smile at the constantly happy face of Mickey Mouse. I took off my jeans and stretched out next to her lifting up the sheet and pulled it over us. She turned to me before I had the sheet settled over our bodies and I heard her sniff back a few tears and breathe deeply. Soon she was breathing easier. "I've never had a friend like you Berti." "You're quite special too, no one lets me experiment on them with my cooking the way you do." At that she snorted. "You can open up a restaurant you cook so good." "Well thank you very much, so when I drop out of school and tell mummy that I'm gonna be a cook I'll let her know you were my advisor." "She'll tell you, "So whatchu waitin' on!?"" She said, mimicking my mom perfectly. It always surprised me how well they got along. She was like a part of the family when they were together. "Who's gonna try to teach me how to dance now?" She asked. I smiled at the memory of me teaching her the dance moves to some new Caribbean song. The last time we did it was a Sean Paul song and Joan was looking good. "You're gonna be such a great teacher one day Joan, and you are a great writer." I felt her smile into my neck. I watched the ceiling and the lights from billboards miles away on some busy highway. I counted her breaths then turned my head towards her and breathed deeply. She smelled like vanilla. I felt like I could get high by simply breathing her in. "You're gonna have to be patient with me when I get back, I'm gonna have a whole list of stuff to cook you." She laughed. I smiled. Tonight was only about making her laugh like that. "And I'm gonna have to read the mountain of books that you would have written by then." A memory of me lying down on this same bed asking a million questions about some poem and Joan patiently answering each one swam to the surface. She was always so patient with me, even when I knew I annoyed her like crazy sometimes playing especially ignorant until she punched me in the arm or something. "You'll be the first person I send my first published book to." She moved her hand to my stomach and I'm sure she felt my muscles tighten there. She chose to ignore it, so I did too. That wall was still strong and holding up, the one that separated me from admitting my attraction to her. Her hand spread flat and then stayed. "You're gonna be the first person all the time. The first person Berti, I'm going to sign each one and dedicate the first one to you." She said this quietly and I felt her hot tears on my shirt. "And I'm gonna fly you to the first house I design and build." I said then looked down at her. She seemed to sense me and looked up at me. Her eyes shining in the darkness as the city's lights gently touched them, making them sparkle. "I'm proud of you Joan." "Oh hush, I'm not the one going to Cali." "No, but you needed to know that." She snuggled up to me again and I closed my eyes. "I don't wanna go to sleep." She murmured. "I know." "You always seem to do that; to know. No one else does half the time, but you always do." "I'm gonna miss you reading to me." She squeezed me then, "No one else's voice puts me to sleep like yours." At that she poked my side and laughed at my yelp. "Oh Berti," she sighed tiredly as her eyes disobediently grew heavy and slid shut. My hand moved in calming circles over her back then I heard the easy breathing that told me sleep finally claimed her. I hugged her for a ling time as we stood in her doorway. It was 4 am and I looked fondly at a sleepy and teary eyed Joan. I stood before her wiping away tears, trying to pour comfort into eyes that didn't want it. So I let her cry and stood back. I looked back as I turned the corner, she stood there in only her t-shirt and pretty flower print panties with the saddest look I'd ever seen on her face. But I turned away and didn't look back after that; telling myself all the way to the waiting cab that I was not making the biggest mistake of my life. I didn't let my tears come until I landed in California. When they came I didn't know how to stop them. So I just let them fall, ignoring the concerned looks around me as I sat in the terminal. Only then did that wall come tumbling down all around me. It got easier for us after a while. To switch from being so close to being separated by states and provinces was a shock. Joan was now going after her PhD already having gotten a masters attached to her name. We talked all the time, and most of the time when we did, I stood looking at the pictures of us together from school. I missed her so much it hurt. My family tried to help, always calling and talking to me. My mom even made a trip to California one summer to give some special TLC. They all knew how much I cared for Joan but tickets from coast to coast were always just out of my reach. Karen and Gary still kept in touch, though we didn't talk as much. I knew that when I saw them again though, that we would pick up where we left off, and we did. I was done with my masters and had already worked a year in an established architectural firm, but I was someone who had to be her own boss when it all came down to it. I told Joan as much, she understood where I was coming from though she had no idea what my plans were. In a way, neither did I. I finally had two homes under my belt that I was lead architect on and both had been featured in national magazines but I was ready to move on. To what? Whatever it was, it wasn't in California. When I asked Karen to meet me in one of our favorite coffee houses from the good old days, she readily agreed. I look back now at that conversation and realize that she didn't even sound surprised to be hearing from me from out the blue. We hugged for a few minutes telling each other how good we both looked. My hair was shorter though still wild and curly but now I had a lighter color in it. It brightened me up quite a bit making my dark brown eyes look lighter and my skin take on more of a cappuccino complexion that had bronzed under the California sun. I was still jogging so had maintained my figure. Karen was still Karen. She has Italian blood so always had that European figure and had managed to put on a few pounds but it only accentuated her already sultry looks. And she was married. "He's a looker." I said as I handed back the picture of her husband. She beamed at me. "Don't I know it. Our babies are gonna be the envy of the neighborhood." She purred as she feigned a British accent. She was always good at doing that. "And you Ms. Architect," she said with a fond smile. I was smiling too, proud of what I'd accomplished. "Awww garsh, you're makin me blush ma'am." My teasing cracked her up. She too had accomplished a lot with opening her own consulting firm; she was an attorney and taught at the same university as Joan. "Yeah still a crack head I see." She laughed then her eyes cleared though a relaxed smile remained on her lips. "So, now that we know that we feel mutual pride for each other, let's get that out of the way." She said smiling fondly at me. "Anyone special in your life now beautiful?" I hoped that she missed the sad feeling that slipped over me at the question. I was always bad at hiding my emotions though, so I doubted it. "No one special I'm afraid. I drive them all insane." "But I hear that the ladies love it." She said. "Being drivin' insane by you that is," she said with a wink. She seemed to have known before I did that I was gay, and never ceased to remind me through the years that she 'discovered' me long before I had a clue. "Hmmm," I murmured, only one face and name on my mind, currently driving me insane. Sure I dated and had a few flings, but only one woman had my heart. And she wasn't giving it up. I pulled out her book; she mailed the first one that printed to me just like she promised. It was entitled, Curry, Keats and Prose. It was a piece of contemporary literature that had received critical acclaim. I turned wordlessly to the dedication and read it for the millionth time I'm sure: For Berti. With whom I can fly, Without whom, I can never imagine. Then I turned to what would have been a blank page, but instead had Joan's controlled, neat cursive. I always loved her handwriting never grasping the art of cursive myself. Berti, a promise is a promise. I wrote this book with you as my muse, but you already know that don't you?! Thank you for your unyielding support and friendship. I don't think that you really understand how much I love you and lean on our friendship. Some days it's the only thing that gets me through. This book, my first in more ways than one, is a product of your gentle encouragement and love. Love, Forever, Your Joan. I gave the book to Karen and she read it too. Of course she already read the dedication having a signed copy herself, but the note; now that she never read. She smiled and closed the book, sliding it back over to me. Karen watched me and I knew she wanted to say something. So I waited, I was afraid to look up at her but finally did. Her eyes were filled with compassion and understanding. "You two were quite the couple you know. Still are." She began then lifted her cup to her lips. After she took a sip she closed her eyes for a moment. "If I were a junkie, this stuff would be the drugs man." She said. "Good stuff, quality." "It's drugs, hence why you can't stop drinking the stuff." I said as I sipped on my hot chocolate. She stuck out her tongue. "She's sooo single it's not funny." She said smiling. "She is?" I asked as my hand reverently moved over the book cover. I tried to ignore the blood rushing in my ears but Karen's words were causing little explosions in my head. "Yeah, and she really missed you Berti, some days I wondered if she'd ever get over you." She said looking at me with her head tilted slightly. This made me pause. "Get over me?" "Yes. She was in love with you." She said matter-of-factly. I sat back then. Looked outside. It was March but still chilly. People shuffled by the window like phantoms in their dark winter coats. "The week after you left Gary and I had to drag her to the zoo just to cheer her up. And you know how far that freaking zoo is so we had a lot of time to spend with Gary." She said her eyes opening slightly. "Too much time with the big headed freak if you ask me." She muttered affectionately. "How is the freak?" I asked. "Good. Some unlucky woman managed to lay her eyes on him. God help her," she said as she raised her eyes to the ceiling. "They're engaged it seems." She smiled at that looking a little in awe. "She's hot, and her name is Mellisa." She mimicked Gary flawlessly then sobered. Her look turned sympathetic. "Berti, it nearly broke her heart. The only reason she mended it back was because you guys still spoke like everyday." "Yeah, I was feeling those phone bills a month later." I joked. I had to get a part-time job just to keep up our conversations. "NO kidding! When they turned off her phone she used mine, so I know about feeling phone bills." She laughed. "I practically molested them." She said, her slightly morbid sense of humor showing itself once again. I finally stopped laughing and turned my cup around and around. "I-I love her Karen." I stated then looked at her. Her grin was a mile wide. "That I know. I always did." I felt dumb for asking but did anyway. "When did I find out? When you two were talking in her kitchen, the way you spoke to her, God, it made the hair on the back of my neck rise. I've never been spoken to like that!" "And the male model in that picture...?" I pointed towards her purse and she raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow in response. "Ehh. Okay, so he tries. I'll give him credit for trying I guess." She sipped her coffee, now warm I guessed since my drink was too. "I just wanted to know when you guys were gonna get together. When you never did, it made me doubt if I'd ever find something like what you guys had." I had no idea my relationship with Joan affected anyone else but us. I guess I was wrong, because it looked like anyone who knew us thought that we were together or were going to become an item at any moment. "She's teaching now." I said. But she, of course, knew this. "And a great teacher too, her students love her to death. I think the faculty's tryin' to slowly move her up to dean. They're grooming her for sure." "And you? You gonna be dean of the school of law soon?" To that she snorted. "Ha! They have enough trouble with me cursing in class. I can't help it though, some of the laws in this country are really asinine." It was so easy to fall back into our easy banter. Karen was always heard lecturing about how "retarded" the laws are. She was infamous at the university for her unconventional style of teaching, hence why students always clamored to get her as a professor. She slipped a hand into her purse and pulled out a note book with a pen then scribbled something on it. The sound of paper tearing filled my ears then she stuffed her book back into her already over-stuffed purse. After she passed it to me and I realized it was Joan's number and address. "She's teaching tomorrow morning at 9 in lecture room 7 in the Norman Vincent building. You'll be able to find it when you get there." With that she stood up and kissed my cheek. "It's good to have you back Berti, now go put that smile back on our girl's face." I looked at the paper in my hand until my drink grew cold. I just hoped that she wanted to see me as much as I wanted to see her, or else I was going to have a problem. I sat in the back of the classroom, dressed in dark blue jeans and a black turtle neck. I'd gotten into the dressing in black thing that architects do while I was in school despite my vowing that it would never happen. Though I only did it during the cooler months, which hardly existed in California. I crossed my boots at the ankles and waited, but not for long. Joan seemed to breeze into the class room. The long skirt she wore, tan and flowing, moved around her figure as her brown boots clicked across the floor, the blouse she wore beneath a long coat was low and showed off an elegant throat. Did she loose weight? I asked as I took note of her short, stylishly cut hair that moved gently when she turned to say a bright good morning to a few students who quickly gravitated towards the front of the class like bees to a flower. She said something that got the students nearby laughing and slipped off a brown leather coat. Her eyes, lips, nose, ears, face, hands, they were all the same, she just looked so much more...mature. So much more...sexy. I smiled unknowingly and relaxed in my chair. A few people seemed to wonder what the hell I was doing in their classroom but none said a word. A few seemed to be too busy openly checking me out to say anything at all. I just smiled politely when I caught a young girl doing just that then turned my full attention to the front of the class. I sat back in my chair at the back of the classroom that moved up at a rather steep incline and made seeing everyone in the class nearly impossible for the lecturer. When more students poured into the room I was amazed. She was a professor, not a teacher, I thought. The room was nearly filled and she asked everyone to quiet down quickly taking control of the auditorium. "Come on you all know the drill, get those assignments out and all those whose dog ate it, please wait 'til after class to approach me so that I can pop some pop corn and really listen to your sad, sad stories." She dryly said this and got a good round of chuckles. Then she laughed too and wrote something on the black board. Some name that I was not even trying to know. I was trying to recall when she had such confidence. It practically radiated from her. It was sexy as hell. She grew even more beautiful over the years but what made me smile was that she was finally aware of it. "...so back then we know that Austen was the shit right?" At this the class laughed again. "Okay I promised a colleague I'd slip at least one curse word in so that I'd shake that horrible English teacher stereotype." I smiled at that, having a clue as to who the "friend" was. The class began to laugh again and she settled back into the lesson, throwing in a joke or funny story here and there. I seriously doubted that she had any problems with her reputation with the way most of those students were gazing at her. All too soon the class was over and the very full noise of over 60 students shuffling around pulled me from my thoughts. I stood up and turned to leave the isle, I had some things to do before I saw her again. I didn't see when her eyes moved to my now empty seat or the confusion there. She turned back to the students at her desk. A few students were laughing again. I was tempted to walk up to her and say hello but her back was to me and a pretty large amount of students waited in line to see her. I had a feeling most of them simply wanted to be near her though. I understand the feeling, I thought, so just backed away slowly then slipped from the room. When Joan looked at the doorway, the confusion back in her eyes, I was gone. She scratched her head then turned back to her students. When I neared her building I was nearly shaking. Stop it! It's just Joan. But I knew better, if it was just Joan then I would have been able to walk up to her today and hug her and kiss her, tell her that I loved her and...I stood still then, the bags of food and items from the store and the duffle slung onto my shoulder suddenly feeling like they weighed a ton. What I was doing suddenly felt stupid, presumptuous. Oh God, what if she has someone there? I called Karen earlier and she assured me again that Joan liked to go home and relax with a book or her papers to mark, that were never-ending since she loved to give out assignments. What if she already ate? My mind grappled for more 'what ifs', but couldn't find another one. Stop making up excuses! I ordered my feet to move again and finally stood outside her building. I looked at the paper in my hand; the extension 1245 clearly screaming back at me. I looked up into the glass of the touch screen checking my appearance quickly and typed it in. I heard my heart beating in my ear. How did it get in there? I remembered asking myself as I shook my ears a little. I breathed in as it ringed. Once, twice, three times...is she even home? I asked suddenly feeling tense. "I'm so stupid, what if she-" "Hello?" Came the familiar voice. It was just like I remembered. Soft, almost lilting. Sexy as hell. I couldn't breath. I couldn't say a word. Then she repeated it and someone stepped from behind me and buzzed themselves through. I grabbed at the door, earning a glare from an old woman who was now inside the building, then she huffed away. I looked at the speaker knowing that she stood in her apartment staring at her phone. I entered the building. When I stood in front of her door I felt a peace come over me. I'm home, I felt it. I knew it, right down to my very bones. Will she open it? Will she let me in? Will it be like old times? Does my breath smell all right? Then I heard a phone ring on the other side of the door and a muffled hello and something else. An excited thrill was running through me, all I imagined was Joan and how beautiful she looked and sounded, and walked and spoke... Then I knocked. I heard her approach, her pretty voice grew louder, I lowered my head in prayer that I didn't make a fool of myself and held my breath. She opened the door and my heart stopped. She seemed to look through me for a moment with the phone held loosely in her hand. Her hand was on the door knob then slowly went to her neck and she stepped back half a step. Confusion filled her eyes, then she seemed to loose her balance slightly as she gripped the door again. "Oh my God..." she said and I stepped forward. The tears came, and she stepped forward, dropping the phone, wiping her tears as she shook her head. "I better not be dreaming or else I swear I'll never sleep again." She sobbed and I stepped closer to her dropping the bags in her doorway gently enveloping her in a hug. For some reason I felt that I had to be gentle with her. My Joan. She wrapped her arms around me tentatively as if unsure then with a force that took my breath away for a second and I'm from a family of huggers. "Berti! Berti..." she sobbed out as she clung to me. Her tears didn't seem to have an end but I didn't care. I've never felt so good in years. I didn't know how much I was starving myself. I should be dead from lack of this love. My heart's been starved so long, it was a miracle that I was breathing. I should be around it constantly for my survival. How did I make it so long? "Shhh. I'm here now Joan. I'm here honey." I said as I rubbed her back then her arms trying to calm her, assure her that I was real, that I was here. She squeezed me tighter before loosening and leaning back. "That was you in class today." She said matter-of-factly. I nodded, not wanting to cry now. I can't fall apart now that I have her again. Not yet. "I knew it, I felt you Berti." She said as she looked into my eyes her eyes bright with so much happiness and love that it made my heart swell knowing that it was all for me. Then I think my brain lost all contact to my body when her hands grabbed my coat and she pulled me forward. I was still wiping away at her tears so missed the change in her eyes. When she kissed me I could have died it felt so good and she seemed to have had some practice over the years. Her tongue was everywhere yet so elusive, then the kiss was over and she pulled back. My eyes were still closed but when they opened, I found the most loving brown eyes looking at me questioningly. I had an answer all right. "It's good to be home." Her smile was quick and bright. I cooked curried chicken for her with coleslaw and corn. I made her a salad and rice; she always loved to eat with another side of white rice. I did all this while she sat at her kitchen table looking like the happiest woman in the world; gazing at me as if I hung the moon. "I didn't think you'd come back Berti." She said quietly. I turned to look at her then walked over and pulled her up to stand in front of me, then I dragged her until she was leaning against me, with my back to the counter. When I kissed her I wanted her to fell what I couldn't say out loud. I needed her to understand. I gently kissed her nose, and her cheeks and her ears and her eyes. The small tears that hung on her lashes, I took each one this time, nothing escaped my lips. "I'm so happy you're back, I'm so happy..." she said as she clung to my shirt and kissed me hard. Our breathing quickly grew heavy and soon we were both gasping for air. "I want to touch you so bad Joan...I always wanted to touch you, you know?" "Yeah, I know. I didn't know then why you always grabbed at my hands..." "Or fooled with your hair," I decided to do just that, wrapping a short tendril around my finger. "Like I was any better, I constantly tried to find an excuse to hug you." Joan's hands ran up and down my side. "You never heard any complaints from me, and you won't hear any now." I said then spread my arms wide, "I'm your chocolate teddy bear." I said and she laughed at the use of her old nickname for me, burrowing deeper into my arms. "I've never found someone who hugs as good as you did...do." Her hand moved from my back to my side, then down to my hips. I moved against her not wanting her to stop. "Oh God..." I murmured into her ear. This seemed to get her going and her hands slid in front of my jeans and unbuckled it then zipped it down. I was pulling up her shirt before I knew what I was doing. My eyes slid closed and my lips searched for hers. When she slipped her hand between the denim my eyes popped open and I reluctantly slipped her hand out, smiling at her whimper of protest. "I made a promise years ago." "You can break it whatever it was, I wanna touch you and make love to you-" Her eyes were bright with need. "No, I'm gonna cook for you, then we can do what...ever...you...want." I punctuated each word with a kiss. "What ever I want?" She asked looking at my body hungrily. This was the first time I thanked God that I worked out the way I did. Jogging until I was nearly drunk with fatigue. The way she was looking at me, it felt like I was going to have to sit in the snow just to cool off. I turned her around and stood behind her slowly walking her towards the stove. "Help me. I'll show you how to cook curry again." "I know it's gonna taste great." She said rubbing my arm. "Oh yeah, it always does, but I could think of something that I think's gonna taste better." A groan escaped her throat and I felt her hand slowly caress the arm that held her waist. I placed a small bottle of seasoning in her hand that she held as my lips nibbled on her neck. "The way this works is you shake the bottle and little, tiny particles fall out." My smart comment got me a jab in the side. "Sad to say but I missed those pokes." "Well there are a lot more where those came from." We got the food finished, but when I turned to tell this to Joan she was no where to be found. Thinking that she was in the living room, I quickly took out two plates, glasses and a bottle of wine that was chilling in the freezer before I hunted her down. "Okay, it's done, but-" I was talking to myself it seemed. I looked towards her bedroom and saw a faint light streaming into the hallway. I decided to follow the light. When I entered the room I nearly tripped over my own feet. Joan was lying on the bed in nothing but a thin, short, red night gown. The low light of a nearby lamp illuminating soft, perfect looking skin. Her eyes were now a dark brown from where I stood. "I can't wait Berti." Was all she said and that was all that I needed to hear. I stripped of my shirt where I stood and my bra soon followed. The way she looked at me told me that she liked what she saw. Then I took of my jeans and got a wicked smile from her. "You're not wearing any panties." She smirked and rose up on her elbows. "A habit I picked up in Cali I'm afraid." "A habit I'm going to nurture." She murmured as I moved towards her. "And maybe adopt." A slight fear danced over her eyes and I hesitated. It slowly moved through her then disappeared as I moved up her body. I looked down into her face, searching for any sign that I should stop. "You know that I'll never hurt you right?" "I know." She whispered back, the vulnerability in her voice making me fall for her all over again. "I love you so much Joan." I said as I softly kissed her lips, becoming lost all over again; in their texture, the dips and valleys that I only dreamed of for years, never understanding how her lips could taste so wonderful and ruin me completely for anyone else. I've tried to find similar lips, but never did. Hers haunted me, but not anymore. "Joan..." I murmured to her. "I know." She said, and I smiled at how the role was always reversed. Now she knew me so well. I tasted her lips the way I tasted candy, sucking until I got to some special prize at the center but with Joan, it just got sweeter and sweeter, the prize seeming to forever evade me and drive me insane. I moved against her, slipping my hand beneath her negligee moving against her. I felt her breath quicken when my hand slipped down the length of her stomach. I felt her against me, all over me. Inside me. "I'm so drunk with you." She whispered heatedly into my ear and I felt the heat of her hands against my hips. "Oh God." I said as I moved against her. My hands were now moving over her and inside her. A rhythm that was as old as time began and she held on to me. "Berti..." she whimpered. "Mmmm." She wrapped her leg around my thigh and I got even more excited. When my mouth found her neck she was already moaning, nearing her release. My thumb rubbed her clit slowly and firmly and seemed to set her off as I moved my fingers inside of her. The warm, slick walls pulled at me, drawing me deeper, making me groan at the feeling of her surrounding me. I felt her tightening around my fingers but knew that I wanted her to come over and over again and told her as much. My fingers searched out that swollen, firm part of her and I pushed against it smiling into her lips as her breath caught and her body seemed to be held in suspension. "Berti...Berti..." she breathed into the air as her eyes opened but seemed to be looking into another world. I was there and didn't know that I was coming until it gripped me fully. I remained focused on her face, closing my eyes only when the orgasm crashed over me. After I fell I opened my eyes and watched her face. I moved my hands over her breasts. I touched them reverently, pulled gently at the hardened nipples that were now straining for my hands, my lips. Her pretty lips opened slightly, a low moan escaped her throat and her head moved up and her neck was even more exposed to me. Her head moved from side to side and then her body bucked wildly as her nails dug into my skin. "That's it baby, come for me," I murmured into her neck then against her lips as her walls tightened then stilled my fingers inside of her. Her thighs held me against her as her hands grabbed possessively at my body. She came with a shout of something that vaguely resembled my name. I pulled my digits from her warmth and brought them to my lips. I felt her eyes on me as I tasted her for the first time. It was heavenly, my eyes closed in pleasure as my mind filled with images of me lapping up as much of her as I pleased. There was so much that I wanted to do to her. So much that I wanted to share. My hands grabbed at her legs, opening her thighs as my body moved closer and closer. She gasped when I pulled her knees higher, exposing her wetness to my own. When the hardness of my clit rubbed against her she gave out a low tortured moan. I answered back with a slow grind into her body. The sound of my wet, swollen flesh rubbing against her pulsing clit was intoxicating. Soon, both of us were grunting into each other until we were sliding together. Her body began to shake. All it took was the feel of her pussy clenching to throw me over the edge. I came shouting out her name over and over until it was a whisper. My body shook as badly as her own. "My Joan...my Joan." I said as she quieted, gently kissing her all over. I suckled at her breasts, her neck, beneath her ear, not wanting to break contact with her at all. Not wanting to break contact ever. I kissed her until her breathing was shallow and easy. She wasn't quiet for long and was soon moving against me again. My body got hotter, and she felt that. She smiled against my lips. "I'm not going to let you sleep tonight." She promised. "And I give myself freely to the god of insomnia." She giggled then kissed me again. "I'm gonna make you scream you know?" She said as she kissed her way down my body, and then found where my body needed her. I felt her breath against my thighs before I felt her lips. Her kisses were gentle and soft as she teased her way closer and closer to my center. I writhed in the bed getting wetter and wetter with each second. Then she had her lips pressed against me. A satisfied moan reached my ears and I sighed at the low sultry sound of it. Her tongue moved from the bottom of my center to the top and took my swollen clit as prisoner. "Oh God!" "Umm hmm..." came her reply as my hips moved with the rhythm of her mouth. She kissed me deeply between my thighs as if she were kissing my mouth, then I felt her tongue slide against my entrance and prayed for the moment to never end. Her fingers entered me, one then two at a time and her lips clasped onto my clit again and began to suck. "Ummm, ohhh...don't...don't stop..." I said over and over as she moved inside of me, sliding her tongue over my sex as if we'd been making love for years, driving me closer and closer to the edge until I simply hung there. I saw myself tipping over and called out her name as I fell. I've never screamed while love making before and so was quite doubtful that she would be able to make me. But that night Joan laid all of my doubts to rest and proved me wrong. I was now a bona fide screamer. When I awoke a loud siren was blearing outside. I was so use to the quiet of my home in California that the siren alone had my eyes wide open. Not that the view was anything to complain about. Joan lay sprawled over me, now functioning as the sheet that we had kicked to the floor at some point during the night. We seemed to have only allowed one pillow safe refuge on the huge bed. I smiled at the not so distant memory of our lovemaking. My body still singed happily in the after glow of being touched and loved so completely. Her eyes were closed and her breath rhythmically caressed my breasts. Her arm was draped over my stomach possessively, while the other was wrapped beneath my neck and held my shoulder lightly. The warm thigh draped over mine made me forget why I even woke up. Something was nagging at me. What was it? The food! We still hadn't eaten and I know that we were going to feel it come morning after our marathon of steamy sex. Tomorrow. What's going to happen tomorrow? I knew that when I came here and finally saw Joan again that I'd have a decision to make, but I think that I made it years ago when I promised her I'd come back to her. My mind reflected on the tickets to California in my bag, and the promise that I made years ago. The fact that I had a chance to share my accomplishments with her was like a miracle to me but that wasn't my home. It never was. "I'm home with you," I said out loud, this made her stir and she shifted, slipping her thigh between my legs and sighing. I decided to tell her as much and so slowly moved until she was beneath me and I was stretched across her. I touched her side and kissed her neck where her pulse gently drummed. Her eyes opened slowly and sleepily looked at me, then cleared, focusing on me and my smile. She stretched like a cat and purred too. Ohh that's nice, I thought, I could grow to love that sound. "Hello." She said in a husky voice as a lopsided smile slipped onto her mouth. I got excited. She noticed and moved her thigh a little. That was bad Joan... "Hello to you." I replied deciding to be bad too and moved against her. "So I was thinking-" "You didn't hurt yourself did you?" She asked in all seriousness. "Yow!" She yelped laughing as I poked her side and scrambled to grab my hands. "So, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I was thinkin'...I'm gonna cook you dinner everyday for the rest of your life." She gasped at my words. They seemed to hang in the air, then her eyes watered. "That is if you want me to." I added as I wiped away a tear that rolled down the side of her face. "I would be honored if you'd let me." I rolled over a little when she leaned towards her nightstand suddenly and opened a draw. She pulled out a leather-bounded book and showed it to me. It was Keats. One of my favorite poets; she always read Keats to me. Now my eyes watered. For the first time since we reunited I allowed the tears to fall. She quietly wiped at each one kissing the tracks that they made. Then I heard her voice in my ear... They could not in the self-same mansion dwell Without some stir of heart, some malady They could not sit at meals but feel how well It soothes each to be the other by; They could not, sure, beneath the same roof sleep But to each other dream, and nightly weep. "I've kept it there ever since you left, next to me. It's been waiting a long time." Her voice cracked as we hugged each other close. I felt like the luckiest woman alive just knowing that I had her heart all those years. We had a lot of time to make up for and I decided to get started. I sighed before I slipped out of bed and turned to the door. "How bout some dinner in bed lovely?" I asked. "Only if you're the main course beautiful." I heard her reply as she stretched out across the bed. I laughed and wondered how I made it those years without her next to me. I knew deep down though, that I was never really without her when it came down to it; I took her with me all the way to Cali. and back. The End.