AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Losing the money, that was a blessing. I had to make my own money from scratch. It meant I had to drop all my stupid, careless ways and be serious. I knew what I wanted. Now I’m well on the way to getting it.”
“Wow, Jackson. What a great way to take it.”
‘Jackson.’ She called me Jackson.
“I thought she froze my heart forever, too. And I hated her for that.”
Her fingers feel tiny, but so strong as she grips my hand.
“Now I know that was a blessing, too. What she did sealed me. Kept me fresh and in perfect condition. Kept me away from casual flings and affairs, distractions and foolishness. The hurt she caused locked me away for when I would find the perfect woman.”
I feel like Cyntia sees me. She understands. I never thought that could happen. I want to scoop her up in my arms. Embrace and kiss her. But I feel we both want to respect the proprieties. I love that. Not the proprieties, but the feeling that we both share something without having to discuss it. And I love the burn of anticipation.
We both raise our glasses and study each other’s eyes as we take a sip. Exploring. Learning each other.
She puts down her glass and says, “Okay. My turn.”
Her smile flickers. “I have a big trust issue. It goes back to when Daddy was away, and Momma took up with a horribly unsuitable man. She told me all along that I had to keep her secret because otherwise she would have to leave. And that would be too much for Daddy to take. She made me promise. So I did what she told me.”
I hold her hand, thinking of the little girl saddled with that adult secret. Trapped by it. “She made me keep the secret for years, until just after my fifteenth birthday.” She blinks, taking a moment. “Then it wasn’t a secret anymore because she left with him.”
Now it’s hard not to take her in my arms. But I can see that there’s more.
“You know what feels worst of all? I was angry that she told him. She didn’t give me that chance to break the news and take responsibility for my part. It’s selfish, I know. But she made me carry it all that time. I wanted to be the one who told him. I wanted to take the force of his anger and disappointment.”
I hold her hand in both of mine. “It’s not selfish. You wanted to break the wall of secrets between you and your father, to care for your father’s feelings. After your mother left, it was going to be just you and him, right? She gave up her rights in the relationship.”
I look in her eyes, thinking of what she went through, the strength she had to have. “Was it too much for your father to take?”
“He definitely took it hard.”
She swallows. “He knew I hid Momma’s betrayal, but he never blamed me. ‘You did what your momma told you,’ he said. ‘I can’t ever blame you for that.’ He never once said a word against me. He told me I mustn’t blame myself.” Her eye is moist. I want to dry it, but I know she doesn’t want that now. This moment belongs to her. I doubt if she told any of this to anyone before.
“That must have made it hard for you.”
She brushes the tear away and looks up, like she just saw a light. “Unbearable. I felt awful about making such a bad choice. It would have been easier if he had blamed me. I blamed myself totally.”
“I think he understood, and he thought that was enough.”
Candle flames flicker, reflected in her eyes.
I want her to look at me like that forever.
Chapter Ten
Cyntia
When I agreed to have dinner with him, I told him I didn’t have anything to wear for the Marriott.
He said, “A restaurant is just something for you to enjoy, not a place where you need to feel judged.”
And I thought, Typical man, totally missing the point, but then he said, “You’ll enjoy it best when you feel your best. I have a driver outside. Take him to Metairie. He will know the places you can get a couture dress or some cool denim, whatever your taste. Beauty parlors, upmarket shoes, anything you want. He carries a card. Get whatever you want, okay?”
I got a shiny makeover and had my hair primped and fluffed to outrageous imperfection.
He told me he loves my curves. So his card bought me a long, flowing turquoise Versace evening dress. It wafts like the ocean and conceals none of my curves. It looks like me in a drunken, haute couture dream. For full effect, I wear it with a pair of high Valentino pumps, a La Perla thong, and no bra. A snaky silver Tiffany’s necklace rolls on the tops of my tits, to make he sure he doesn’t miss them.
When I strutted into the bar and he saw me, his face told the story. Yes, he does love my curves. As he stood, a glance further down revealed the eye-popping truth of how much he loves my body.
