Oh, No! Oh, No! Shit! Shit! Shit! Olivia panted in tandem with her sprinting pace. She was in a full blown panic, her heart was racing, her eyes were were almost rolling around of their own volition, as she scanned the unfamiliar hallway for somewhere safe, somewhere where he won't find her, somewhere where she could find the space to breathe-think.
Then suddenly, the flashes began.
His large, tanned hands spanning her pecan-toned abdomen. The sexy contrast of light against dark. Her slightly rounded stomach was striated like the sweet nut. A consequence of childbirth. She glanced at him wondering what he thought of her imperfections, her battle scars from bringing life into the world. Did he even know what they where?
He was watching her, watching the bevy of emotions and thoughts cross her face. As she looked up, he caught her glance and telegraphed with his eyes what his mouth announced. “Beautiful.” He promised.
Her stomach muscles clenched at the sound of his favor. She closed her eyes, so that she could more closely experience the feel of the tips of his fingers touching her core. His fingers tips were lightly touching her, testing out the feel of the skin on her belly. It felt like every cell under his fingers were reaching out to him, calling for him to push away the past and create new memories, sweeter, better, his, and hers.
She shook her head which sent her crashing to the present. Those around her were looking at her strangely. Some looked like they were about to inquire if she was okay.
Dammit! Do I look like I am okay? I am falling apart and I need a little room to do that in. Thank you very much.
Through her tears, she managed to give the “stink eye” to a man who looked like he was about to inquire after her well being. They were in a New York City skyscraper and all New Yorkers are fluent in “stink eye”, the man received his qeue, and got on the elevator to who knows where.
Finally, she spotted a bench in an alcove outside of some posh office suite, with smokey, glass doors. As she dropped herself on the chair, she realized that she was actually weeping. That is the one thing that she hated about her reaction to startling events. It started all the waterworks going. She knew her adreneline was through the roof. She had the feeling like she could do double back handsprings down the length of the hall to earn a pefect 10, even from that judge from Romania, who didn't give Americans anything above a 9.56. The problem was, her rational mind explained to her that she didn't know how to do a cartwheel, and an office building's hallway was definitely not the Olympics.
Then the worm was turning. The rush of adreneline was ebbing away and a slighty nauseating feeling was taking its place. Olivia hunched over her lap and tried to rock the feeling away, all the time mumbling, “Shit, Shit, Shit...”
Another flash hit.
They were in the same position as before. His head was resting on the pillow at the head of the bed and his body was one long tan piece of candy laying along the bed. His hands were drawing slow circles around the outside of her thighs. Olivia was settled, with her knees on either side of his waist. But this time she was slightly elevated. For awhile the momentum of his hand drew her body to react like and old locomotive. Up and down, Up and down. He wasn't even inside of her, but the strength of his sensuality called out to her long dormant one and pulled her along with just the force of his hands.
She remembered the feeling of the tiniest tip of him touching the soft, effusive, lips of her pussy. It had been so long since she had anything resembling a penis at that orafice. Somehow if felt like he knew because he let her lead. He watched as she took hold of him through the “V” of her legs and gently rubbed him against the nub of her desire. The feeling was like a knock-out punch. Olivia's head fell to her chest and she felt her eyes well up.
How could she have denied herself THIS for so long? Did she really hate herself so much to miss out on the special sensation of the most intimate part of a man's body rubbing, teasing, imprinting himself on hers.
The idea almost made her sob with repentance. This is a new start. This was the new Olivia. If she would be allowed to indulge in this one, perfect fantasy, she promised to leave and change all that was wrong with her life. She resloved to do better.
The sound of the door closing and two women entering the hall drew her out of the film reel playing in her mind. She head followed the women as she watched them pass her, then she leaned her head against the wall behind her.
“What is he doing here, why now?” she thought to herself.
Unbidden, her mind called out this name, “Christopher.”
******************************************
He sister had finally had enough of her barely participating in life. She floated through her responsibilites, but hadn't been really engaged in the living in life for so long, she didn't remember the last time she had felt joy. The bit of effort she showed she displayed for the benefit of her kids. She knew she was a crummy parent, but she couldn't find the energy to be better.
That was until her sister sat across from her one evening and handed her the ticket.
“Olly, you can't go on like this. I can't let you go on like this anymore”. Her sister looked at her with concern and love. “We finally have you on the depression medication, so I don't have to leave the house terrified that you are going to do yourself in, but Olly that is not enough. You are better, but you are not at your best.”
Olivia, looked at her sister. She had been Oliva's lifeline for the last few years. Naja filled in all the gaps that she left in her wake; in her float through life. She owed her. Olivia chuckled as she answered her sister, it sounded hollow even to her ears, “Aren't you afraid that I will go off my meds and just throw myself from the railing.”
“Absolutely not funny.” Her sister replied. Naja pulled away from the table, clearly pissed. “I am tired of this, I am tired of this vacant person who has taken over your body for the last year and a half. I guess I should be jumping for joy that I don't get blank eyes anymore, and at least you are self-aware enough to remember that there are certain appropriate responses to certain stimuli, not just quiet stares and crying. But I am greedy, I want all of you be present, standing on your own two feet, enjoying life.
“And a cruise is going to do all of that? Wow, how much did you have to pay for that ticket? Here I was wasting my money on Zoloft.” Olivia mumbled.
“Olly, if you make one more joke about your depression, I am going to gag you.” Naja was deathly serious. “Look this is not up for discussion, I have bought the ticket, I have shopped and paid for your wardrobe, and your departure is this weekend. Let me make myself clear, you will be on that boat, and if you try something cute and make yourself late, I will make you swim after it. Do I make myself crystal clear?”
“Yes, momma”
“Wonderful, and don't roll your eyes when I am talking to you. I made those eyes, don't make me take 'em back.” Naja gave a perfect impression of their mother, when they dared sass her.
That is how she found herself on the ship and that is why she spent most of it in her stateroom. Who knew that they will deliver all the food you want directly to your room. It was like a floating hotel. She went out to go to the bookstore and spent her time reading and sleeping. On the last day, she knew her gig was up. Her sister was looking for pictures. Naja was an Attorney. She wanted evidence of a good time.
Olly's eyes finally looked toward the closet that held all of her sister's wardrobe offerings. She knew she was going to have to go to the dining room that evening and she could not think of any excuse to get around it. She had to get dressed, get seen, get pictures; and sell it to her sister like she was a prostitute with her Pimp on her ass.
Olivia did all the things she remembered she used to do on a regular basis. It was interesting, it was like riding a bike. Your body glistens from the application of special bath salts and body scrubs, even after years of neglect. Your hand remembers the art and basic application of makeup on a face held hostage, so long held barren of enhancement and admiration.
After she had finished manipulating the mysteries of a womon preparing to meet the evening, She was stunned. The woman who stood before her, she hadn't seen in a long time. It was like coming upon a friend who you used to know so very well, who you lost touch with. It was similar to that moment when you are finally face to face with that friend and for an embarassing moment, not being able to recall their name.
Olivia Renee Madison. How nice to see you, again.
Chapter 2
Her skin was alight. The sensation snapped her back into the present. Even through all her heavy winter clothes, there was a buzz along her dermis. Somehow the memory of his touch had activated his own special brand. In response, the largest organ on her body was calling to its master, pulsating now that it knew he was in the vicinity. Olivia had to shake herself from her thoughts of the past. To a casual observer the effect was strange. Her body convulsed, vibrating from her the cellular memory of his touch.
“Jesus,” she exhaled sharply. With the sound came a moment of clarity.
Here she was a grown woman; a grown assed woman, at that. She was actually hiding from what was really no more than a one night stand. She was acting like she stole something. Olivia slumped against the expensively designed, neutrally patterned, wall behind her, silently, slightly hysterically, laughing to herself.
“Girl that was your opportunity to show that you have taken your “big girl” pill. You should have smiled politely at him and kept it moving. No, you catch a glimpse, turn around, and do a Carl Lewis.” Olivia reprimanded herself, clearly talking to herself in a conversational tone.
“I mean really, he might not have even remembered you. Just because that night blew the lid off your whole life doesn’t mean he felt the same way” Something about that particular statement jerked Olivia from her very audible mental meandering and made her realize that she was in a deserted Manhattan skyscraper, in the entry way of one of its luxury office suites, talking to herself.
She sat ramrod straight as a thought occurred to her. “I’m the crazy lady. I am the lady in my old neighborhood that walked up and down the sidewalk talking to herself. I have turned into that lady!”
Olivia brow puckered as she caught herself talking to herself again.
“Shit!” She muttered as she heaved her body to its feet.
Then she remembered that she heard somewhere that you are only really crazy if you started answering yourself. “Ok, so I am not completely off my rocker. I’m okay, right?” She asked herself as she brushed at the wrinkles in her clothing, trying to smooth her black, micro-suede, three-quarters length, trench coat into some semblance of order as she walked to the elevator and pushed the “down” button.
“Yes, of course I‘m okay. I’m just going to get on this elevator and go downstairs, walk to the train station, like a normal person, then go home.” As the doors to the elevator opened, and she stepped in, Olivia realized that not only had she not stopped talking to herself, but she answered her own question.
Maybe I need to put my therapist on speed dial. She closed her eyes and sighed to herself as the doors closed.
Olivia concentrated on the calm and soothing thoughts her therapist was always yammering about. She tried to conjure the bright and shining faces of her children and the new relationship that she was building with them.
The picture was fuzzy and wouldn’t quite come it focus. Her mind kept straying toward the glimpse of a man that has sent this emotional world wind into motion.
Well, that crap doesn’t work! Olivia made a mental note to tell her therapist about herself and her new age techniques. Evidently, when you are in the midst of a full-fledged psychosis, the ability to be rational is a little hard to attain.
Another thought popped into her head.
That little vein in his hand; the one that ran from bottom of his ring finger to his wrist. Something about that damn vein made her mouth, and other places,…water.
Where did her doctor get her degree? Olivia made another mental note to check that shit out on her next visit. The university better not look like the Kellogg brand; but if it did, it would only prove everything she knew about the universe to discover that her, very expensive, very high brow therapist received her degree out of a cereal box.
By the time that she reached to lobby, Olivia was berating herself full throttle.
Damn! This was like the time in the fourth grade when Billy Madison told Mark and Matthew Smith that you liked them. Mark and Matthew were eighth grade twins and you could never make up your mind which one you liked the most. But damn if they weren’t waiting for you when you came upstairs from you classroom to get on line for your bus, demanding that you tell them whether you liked them or not. Even now all you can clearly remember about that exact moment was that they were really tall…they were really close to you…they were actually talking…to you. It was like your brain could not process all of that information and your sissy ass turned tailed and ran like the hounds of hell were on your heels. You ran back to classroom the like you were Flo Jo’s clone and tried to play it off like you forgot something when your teacher asked.
Olivia remembered messing around, going through the motions of looking for something. By the time she made it to the bus line again, the twins were gone and she had almost missed her damn bus. Eleven years later she would marry William “Billy” Madison.
Maybe this was a breakthrough. Olivia considered to herself. Maybe she had just figured out when she started making bad decisions.
The yelling at yourself in the third person…maybe not such a good sign. Olivia could just kick herself. But if she started physically harming herself in public, she quickly decided, she would just check herself into a mental hospital. Straight to the Funny Farm, do not collect two-hundred dollars.
Who in hell has a chance when a lifelong sting of debilitating mistakes originate in the fourth grade? Olivia shook her head at the thought.
“Lia…..” Olivia heard the name being called from across the lobby.
“Lia!” The caller seemed closer, but she really wasn’t paying attention as she opened the door to the dark city outside.
Whoever “Lia” was, would she please answer the man?
As soon as the thought slipped through her mind Olivia stood stock still. A very bad feeling stole over her. Could she be Lia? That, in fact, was the name she gave to a certain man on a certain cruise. Is it possible that he saw her the same time she saw him and waited all this time for her to reappear?
Olivia took a quick look at the sky. Earlier, as she was the leaving for the day, the sun was shining brightly. The whole point of her leaving early was so that she could get home and have a meal waiting for her children. Now, based on the lack of light between the buildings, she could only surmise that she had been upstairs having her mental health moment for a good amount of time.
“So, since you blew by me while I’ve been steadily calling your name, I think it would be a pretty good guess that Lia is not your name.” From behind her his smooth baritone caressed her ear, then ignited her body.
“Christopher?” She murmured, like a prayer, into the space in front of her. Olivia had her cramped hands balled into tight fists in the pocket of her coat. Everything in her wanted to turn around and touch him; test him and see if he was real.
He leaned in close behind her, so that the barest contour of his lips accidently scraped the ridges of her ear. “That’s who I am. My question is, who are you?”
And that is the fifty million dollar question. Olivia felt him a hair’s breadth behind her. As he spoke, puffs of air played at the little curls at the nape of her neck. It was a surreal moment, where fantasy and reality converge to create something else.
She turned and looked into the same intense, amber, eyes that she had been pushing into back of her mind for the last month. She was a little startled by the wire-rimmed glasses. He didn’t have those on before. Otherwise, it was all there, just as she remembered. His almost blue black hair was cut conservatively short. All of its sharp ridges aligned to create one of the most fascinating faces she had ever seen. He did not have that classic male model runway appeal. He had an air of capability, wisdom, and knowledge. Yeah, that was it. When one looked at his face, one was assured that she was in the hands of someone who could manage anything-someone unflappable. How he managed to pull that off and be almost ten years younger than her, Olivia could never figure out.
“Olivia. My name is Olivia.” She gave the information to the area somewhere near where his lungs should be. Then made the mistake of looking up and was caught in the gravitational pull of his eyes.
The power of being in his orbit made her take a half-step back. Then she really took him in. He seemed so official. He had on a long, black business coat, which she could only assume covered a suit. His black leather wing-tips were spit shined to an inch of their life. Gone was the lazy, lover look that she remembered from that night over a month ago. The man standing in front of her had business to attend to.
Christopher stared into her eyes, and then took note of her nervous tendency to push her fists deep in her coat as her eyes periodically bounced away from his. “Lia... Olivia” He quickly corrected himself. “I gather from your behavior just now, and how you acted after we spent the night together, you would rather pretend that what happened between us never occurred. Unfortunately for you, I believe I deserve a little more consideration.” His voice was firm and uncompromising.
“I enjoyed our time together. I had expectations.” Christopher’s voice suddenly softened, but still he looked straight at her, still not touching her, yet staying, seemingly, too close. He didn’t flinch, or seem uncomfortable that he was sharing his sense of vulnerability with her- a virtual stranger.
Olivia was floored. Her mind was a blank, white, screen.
Christopher took her silence as permission to continue. “I woke-up in the morning and you were gone. No goodbye, no note, nothing. What made it worse was that we were in your stateroom and you had deliberately packed all your belonging away, while I was sleeping, then you took off.”
He looked at her closely, but was still careful not to touch her. “What did I do? Did I hurt you? Did I offend you somehow? Christopher drew a breath, as if it was painful to him to be reduced to having to question his behavior.
Olivia could not move. She silently wished that he could see inside her. Everything in her wanted to tell him that he was so off base. She wanted to cry that the problem was her, never him. But again, some force greater than herself was preventing her from doing anything more than fist the pockets of her coat. She could not move any closer to him, any more than she could move away. It was a cruel punishment for them both.
He seemed to continue absentmindedly. “I knew for the first couple of hours that they weren’t letting any passengers off the boat. So I looked for you in those hours and continued for two more. Somehow, I just felt so adamantly that the intriguing woman I had met the night before wouldn’t just leave. But I was wrong wasn’t I? You fully intended to disappear?” Christopher waited, wanting to hear any explanation that would make sense; any clarification that didn’t have him standing in front of this beautiful woman, who had touched something so special in him, looking like a fool.
The words to her response seemed just out of her grasp. She could almost taste them, but she could not force them through her lips.
Christopher looked at her. Her wide eyes that were rapidly tearing and he seemed to acknowledge something, either he; read what she couldn’t say, deciphered what shouldn’t be said, or possibly saw what she didn’t know how to say. He noted something that made him give a slight nod and back away at an angle.
“I’m sorry.” As he chuckled, he quickly brushed his hand through his short hair while his legs pulled his body further away from hers. His laugh was filled with empty ring of irony. “I guess I should have taken the hint. You made your feeling fairly obvious, didn’t you? Olivia, it was nice seeing you again. Have a good…life.” With that, Christopher turned around and walked away, moving in the opposite direction she needed to go to catch the subway so she could meet her commuter train.
Something about his increasing physical distance loosened her tongue. “Christopher…I am sorry.” Olivia whispered to the distance between them.