Heights of Desire (4 page)

Chapter 5

I
n the morning Robert makes breakfast for me and the girls. He’s a good cook when he actually sets foot in the kitchen. Our Sundays together are really the only family time we have. Robert is buoyant and kisses us after every pancake he delivers to our plates. Today, we’re going upstate to a garden party that one of Robert’s colleagues is hosting at their new country house. There’s supposed to be a large outdoor pool, and Ada and Pearl are thrilled at the prospect of spending the day swimming. The two of them are pool rats and can easily pass an entire afternoon diving, splashing, and doing handstands. Robert leaves to get the Range Rover out of the garage and I help the girls pack up their backpacks with everything they’ll need for the afternoon. I decide to try on some dresses before I have to make a public appearance in front of Robert’s co-workers. Most of the people at his firm are both rich and beautiful, either from plastic surgery or countless hours of effort. I have a hard time relaxing at these social functions because they never feel genuine. Instead of people getting together because they enjoy each other’s company, these social calls are like an obligatory dog and pony show. The few other mothers will want to compare schools, lessons, and other strategies to obtain perfection. Everyone stands around sizing each other up and figuring out how to win the particular game of life that they’re playing. I’m well associated with these types of gatherings not only from my life with Robert, but also from my parents’ participation in the same elite circuit. I’ve got a lifetime of semi-formal, work-related social gatherings under my belt. My personal strategy for coping, ever since the age of fifteen, has been to get wildly drunk and agree with absolutely everything anyone says, no matter how banal or controversial. I stand around, smile, and nod. I’m like a trophy wife with a traumatic brain injury. Except I’ll be the first to admit I’m not much of a trophy. My breasts are real and so is the fat gathered in my hips and ass. I can’t be fake even when I try, hence the agreeing – it holds me back from actually voicing all of the inappropriate thoughts I’m usually thinking.

The drive is surprisingly traffic-free, and we stop once for the bathroom and once to pick up fresh berries from a local fruit stand. The girls are happy to be out of the city and Robert keeps his hand on my thigh for the entire drive. He’s now looked over at me a total of three times, his eyes searching mine, trying to identify what it is about me that’s changed. I couldn’t explain it to him even if I wanted to. I try to imagine what it would be like to go to a social function with Jaylee. Would he bring me to a house party or would it be a family gathering of some type? Would I feel the need to get intoxicated just to tolerate the company? I have a feeling that it would be equally as awkward but the company could possibly be less loathsome.

The girls take seats at a craft table set up for the children and Robert parades me around for the necessary introductions. The grounds are beautiful with white and antique blue hydrangea in full bloom. The entire place is stunning. I’ve met almost everyone here at some function or another. I chose a particularly fitted, cobalt blue dress for the occasion today with oversized sunglasses and an easy chignon. I’m going for both sexy and completely unrecognizable. I’d be happy just to sit at the bar and hide behind my sunglasses the whole time. My face easily shows the indulgence in mixed drinks last night, but it’s my feet that are a constant reminder. I’m wearing flat sandals to relieve the protest my arches are staging after dancing all night in stilettos. Other areas of my body are also over-stimulated and I can’t stop my mind from replaying what it felt like to be wrapped in Jaylee’s arms.

I sip on white wine feeling more and more liberated as the afternoon wears on. I nip at Robert’s ear playfully when I think no one’s looking. I slide my hand up his inner thigh when we sit down for lunch. First my shoes go and at some point after lunch my dress comes off too. Ada and Pearl couldn’t be more pleased that I’ve decided to swim with them and I could care less about how the rest of the party feels. It’s an unspoken rule that the ‘pool’ in an afternoon pool party refers strictly to the kids. There’s a lifeguard on duty and the children too young to swim have been left at home with nannies. It’s not unreasonable that I’ve stripped down to my bathing suit; Ada, at five can barely swim. It’s just uncharacteristic and, possibly, a tad bit scandalous.

The new desire running through my body that Jaylee has planted seems to permeate everything. I feel physically aware, more so than I’ve felt in a long, long time and whatever body issues or insecurities that usually bind me have been magically removed. I am a sensual being and I feel extremely proud and aware of every single inch of myself this afternoon. The cool water is like a tonic to my heated skin. I dip and scream and laugh with my girls enjoying a freedom which is not unlike their own. When I squint up to see Robert he is smiling adoringly at the three of us. When our eyes meet his gaze slowly changes to register lust and the expression hearkens back to the very first weeks of our own romance. My betrayal of my husband’s trust takes on a note of levity in the realization of this simple truth:
Robert likes this change in me too
.

The next time Stephani is set to babysit, I ask her to come over an hour early. Carmen still hasn’t brought the girls back from their play-date with a neighbor and I’ve been dying for a chance to get her alone and ask her about Jaylee. Stephani acts perfectly at ease when she arrives, which is a relief to me because I’ve been worrying that she would see me differently after our last interaction. She’s wearing super short cut-offs and a tight tank top. She kicks her shoes off in the foyer and walks into the sunlit kitchen where I’m preparing a snack for the girls. I offer her coffee, which she takes with a ridiculous amount of cream and sugar and I invite her to sit down at the eat-in table.

“Are you still thinking about starting classes again in the fall?” I ask her. I’m fearful of jumping right into a conversation about Jaylee.

“I think so, Mrs. Champion. Have you been dancing with Jaylee again?” she asks.

Apparently Stephani doesn’t share the same fear.

“I haven’t. I wanted to ask you some questions about him first. I don’t really know him that well and I want to make sure he’s not a troublemaker or anything like that.” Truth be told, I don’t think I care if Jaylee’s dangerous or not. I have limited access to him and I want to know everything I can about him.

“I wouldn’t say he’s
dangerous
, exactly. His dad was. He was a Trini, but Jaylee stays out of trouble, I think,” Stephani says.

“His dad is from Trinidad?” I ask, surprised to hear that he’s not Dominican.

Stephanie bursts out laughing and then covers her mouth with her hand. She attempts an apologetic look but amusement is dominating her face.

“No, Mrs. Champion, a Trinitario. It’s a gang. Jaylee’s Dominican,” Stephani says.

“Oh. Did he die?” I ask.

“No, He went to jail, back in the nineties. Jaylee was pretty young,” she says.

He was a little kid in the nineties. Don’t remind me.

“Does he live with his family now?’” I ask.

“Yeah, his sister Janinie and his mom and grandma. Over on 157th street. I think that’s how he got out, of the gang I mean, cause he, like, takes care of his family.”

“What does he do?” I ask.
Don’t tell me. I don’t really want to know.

Stephani turns pink and looks down at the floor.
Oh, God. I should have left it alone.

“I don’t really know Mrs. Champion. I mean, I think he’s a hustler. You know, like a lot of guys around here.”

I don’t even know what that means. He does something illegal or questionably legal. He sells stuff? He gets by. One more question. You can do it.

“Is he single?” I ask as innocently as possible.

“Jaylee? I doubt it. I’ve known him a long time. He’s a player, always has been. Why, you interested?” Stephani asks, staring me down unflinchingly.

She cuts right to it, I’ll give her that. I can’t stop the flush of heat to my face. I shake my head ‘no’ while I recover from her candor.

“Stephani, I’m married and I’m very happy with Robert. I was just curious as to why he didn’t already have someone to dance with,” I say.

“I think he is,” Stephani says. “Interested, I mean. I heard the rumor that he had it bad for somebody. That, and I saw the way he looked at you the other day.”

I need to be careful with my response. I’m tempted to confide in her just to have someone to talk to, but I know how disastrous that could be.

“That may be the case, but he’s been nothing short of gentlemanly with me,” I say.

Stephani shrugs and grabs an apple from the bowl on the table. She takes a bite and looks at me as she chews. She doesn’t believe me, but she’s not going to contradict me. If she can see it that means everyone can. I have to be careful.

Chapter 6

A
week has passed and he’s made no attempt to contact me. I’m afraid to call him, afraid that he’ll reject me. My desire to see him, to hear his voice is so acute that I make the decision to go and find him on my own. I ask Stephani to come over and watch the girls despite protests from Carmen. I need to find out his address just in case he’s not at the playground and Stephani is the only person I know who can get it for me. He’s not listed; I’ve already looked. If I end up at his house it will be the first time I’ll see him on his turf and I don’t know if that’s something he’s been avoiding. Stephani gives me the address but not without questions. I tell her that Jaylee has something of mine that I need to retrieve. She gives me both the street and building telling me that she thinks his apartment is on the fourth floor.

It starts to rain as I walk towards the playground. There’s no one there except the park’s maintenance employees and they’ve all gone inside the park-house for shelter. I can see them in there, watching a small television, eating noodles out of Styrofoam cups. I consider asking them for Jaylee, I’m sure they know who he is, but I decide instead to trust Stephani’s directions and I head uptown to 157th street.

His building is a typical one for the area, run down but with some beautiful detailing remaining from when the neighborhood was more affluent. I check the building directory and see the surname Inoa on the fourth floor just like Stephani said. I’m petrified but I force myself to buzz the apartment. A familiar voice comes over the grainy intercom. The rain is coming harder now so I step up and press my body against the front door trying to escape it.

“Jaylee, It’s Kate,” I say into the intercom.

I’m greeted with silence at first and then the buzzer sounds and I push the heavy door open into the foyer. My heart is in my throat just from the sound of his voice. I hope I’m not making a huge mistake. The building smells of sazón and fabric softener. It’s relatively clean and light. The paint is thick from years of coats and it makes the ornate molding look like it’s cocooned. I walk up to the fourth floor and as I come around the corner I see Jaylee, naked except for a pair of jeans, standing in the doorway to his apartment. His arms are extended above his head, holding onto the door’s frame, as if he’s about to do a pull-up.

“Hey,” he says. “How’d you find me?”

“Stephani,” is all I reply. I want to say ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ or ‘sorry I didn’t call first,’ or anything to make the mood lighter, but as I often find, words fail me with Jaylee. Instead, I wait for him to do something.

“Well, come on in,” he says and I think I can hear annoyance in his voice.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. If he can leave it alone, I should be able to as well. I look around and it seems like he’s the only one home.

“Is your family here?” I ask.

“Nope,” is all he says.

He is annoyed and suddenly I feel awkward and ashamed. Apparently I’ve crossed the line by figuring out where he lives and coming over unannounced. Now he’ll think I’m a stalker. I’m an idiot for chasing after a man twenty years my junior. I’m hit by the familiar wave of grief I feel when I think about no longer having him in my life.

Jaylee grabs my hand and leads me into his family’s kitchen. His touch reassures me and quickly wipes out all of the insecurity and doubting. The familiar electricity between us is still there.

“Sit,” he commands when we reach the kitchen table.

I feel like I’m being scolded. Instead of finding it insulting, I feel relieved. A part of me wants to be punished for my indiscretions. I have been using this man to ignite my sex life with my husband. That’s the nasty truth. It’s not fair to anyone but it’s easier to take his affections than it is to cheat on my husband. The other truth is that my feelings for him are beyond sexual. If the attraction were only about sex, I could take it and walk away, but losing the connection I have with him is just as threatening to me now as losing my family. I’m stuck and I’m miserable. I realize that I came here to make him push me in either one direction or another. I want him to at least help me make the decision or maybe even make the decision for me. I’m the immature one in this relationship. I put my forehead down on the Formica table. I can’t even bring myself to look at him.

“I needed to see you. I don’t think I can live my life anymore without you, I say. I keep trying but it’s not working.“ What if he doesn’t feel the same way about me? I’ve spilled my guts and now it’s too late. He knows I’m obsessed with him.

Jaylee walks over to the sink and pulls what looks like a machete out of the kitchen drawer. I wonder momentarily if he’s going to kill me and the thought doesn’t scare me anywhere near as much as it should. Instead of chopping into me he smiles and grabs a pineapple off the table, puts it onto a chopping block and hacks off the top and bottom of the fruit. He’s seems unaffected by what I just told him. His smile steals me away from my serious thoughts and I watch with awe as he slices away the sides, rotating the fruit and following the contoured edge with the ease of street fruit vendor. He cuts with easy flourishes of the machete and fills a plate with large, bite-sized squares. My misery has dissipated completely and I’m grinning, enjoying his game.

“Did you come here to make drama?” Jaylee asks me.

“No,” I respond.

“Why’d you come here then?”

“To see you,“ I whisper trying to calm my overactive nervous system.

“Kate,” Jaylee says, “I think you came here to fuck me.”

I open my mouth to respond and Jaylee leans forward and inserts a piece of pineapple into it before I can speak.

“Suck,” he commands.

I do as I’m told. The fruit is stunningly sweet and acidic. It makes me squint. He releases the fruit into my mouth and deliberately licks the juice off his thumb and forefinger. He takes a large bite of pineapple himself and his face breaks into his irresistible smile. Juice runs down his chin and he wipes it away with the back of his hand. He’s playing with me, toying with my overwrought emotions.

“Come with me,” Jaylee says with the quick upward nod of his chin. He takes my hand and pulls me towards the bedroom.

Jaylee’s mother and grandmother share the bedroom and his sister, Janinie, has a smaller bedroom that is accessible only by passing first through the larger one. Jaylee tells me that he sleeps on the couch in the living room. The idea of him not having a bed makes me feel sad and protective of him. I want to buy him a bed. I want to invite him to live at my house where he could have his own room.

“Don’t looked so shocked,” he says. “It’s comfortable. I’m used to it.”

The bed in the larger bedroom is made up and covered with a crocheted afghan in bright colors. The entire room is impeccably neat. A large poster hangs behind the headboard that depicts footprints in the sand along the ocean and the caption reads ‘Siempre Contigo.’

Jaylee pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around me. The electricity of his touch runs through me and I can feel my own heart pounding against his chest. I want him to lead me; I want him to take control. I’m not confident enough in my decision to be intimate with him to be able to initiate anything.

“Did you do what I said the night we went dancing?” he asks.

Do I tell him the truth?
How is it that he makes me feel like I’m cheating on him with my own husband? Aside from the finger slip in the New Jersey parking lot, Jaylee and I have primarily acted as friends.

“No, I didn’t,” I say. “But I wasn’t thinking about you while I did it. I mean, I didn’t pretend. It seemed more fair that way. . .” I feel his body tense as I’m talking. He doesn’t like my answer.

Jaylee’s chest is moving up and down visibly as he tries to control his breathing. He lets go of me and balls his fists at his sides. His usually soft yellow eyes flash rage and machismo. He looks as if he wants to hit me.

“Fair?” he says. “What the fuck is fair about any of this? I haven’t fucked anyone in three months. Since the day we met, I never even looked at another woman. And you’re fucking married. How is that fair?”

Okay. I guess this is a fight? We’re fighting. We’re barely friends and we’re definitely not lovers, but we’re having a fight. Our eyes meet and the connection is fierce and the pull unyielding. Maybe I’m ruining his life too; maybe we’re destroying one another. After only three – four encounters, we’re already making each other miserable and insane. I can’t tear my eyes away from his face. I feel the need to push it further. I want him to react.

“I never asked you to restrain yourself from sex for me. Go fuck whomever you want! Why do you care if I have sex with Robert or not? You’re not my boyfriend. You’ve never even kissed me!” I yell the last part to let him know that I’m insulted.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me,” he counters.

“Jesus, Jaylee, you’re all I think about!” I say.

A shadow of surprise crosses his face and then he lunges at me like an animal on the attack. His body crashes into mine with such force that I am knocked back against the dresser and perfume bottles and figurines go flying. I hear something break as it hits the floor. Jaylee grabs my face with both hands and kisses me with an aggression that borders on violence. His teeth bite into my lower lip and I can taste the salty metal of my own blood. His tongue probes deep into my mouth insisting that I return the kiss. And I do. Eventually, his body begins to relax against mine as I respond more to his kiss. His urgency quickly changes from violent possession to sexual need and he presses his erection against me. His mouth softens against mine and every nerve in my body responds, hyperaware with arousal. Jaylee pours himself into me with his kiss and I can feel both his vulnerability and his fear for the very first time. I treasure them both.

He lifts my leg around his hip and runs his hand up my thigh, under my skirt. His fingertips on my skin are pure electricity, a match to flint. His hand reaches around my ass and he slips his thumb right through the lace of my underwear. He punctures the material with his thumb and uses his fingers to swiftly tear them off my body. It hurts me and he must know that it does. His other hand quickly undoes his belt and jeans and they fall to the floor. He shoves his hips forward spreading my thighs apart. Without foreplay or warning he enters me with a single thrust, and surprised by my own body, I’m wet enough to receive him. Jaylee pulls away from the kiss and lowers his face into my neck while he thrusts deep and hard inside me. There is still lingering aggression in the act and he doesn’t look at me or touch me. He just clings to me and continues to pound against me. I feel his body stiffen and freeze and then release. He groans as he comes inside of me, slamming his body into mine again. He didn’t ask me if he could, but I guess I didn’t tell him not to either.

I’m shocked by the lack of intimacy and the vacancy. It’s the opposite of what I expected from him. I suddenly feel like I really don’t know him at all, and the truth is that I don’t. I know nothing about him. He grabs a towel off a shelf and wraps it around his waist. He offers me no words, no comfort, not even the towel. After I pull my clothing back together, he grabs my hand and leads me directly to the front door. He still won’t look at me. If he wants me to leave without a word, he’s in for a surprise. I refuse to be merely a receptacle for his release. I know he has feelings for me. What I don’t understand is why he’s bent on denying them.

“Is that how you like to have sex?” I blurt out. “That’s not what I expected from you. For us. It definitely wasn’t up to my standards.”

He looks down at the floor and shifts his feet.

“Jaylee, if I just wanted to go fuck some dumb kid that’s what I’d do, okay? I need you to give me a little bit more of yourself. I need you to at least be present for Christ’s sake.”

He says nothing and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m going to be generous with you and consider that our first time having sex and not our last,“ I say.

His beautiful smile slowly sweeps across his face as he raises his eyes to mine.

“You always yell at people after you fuck ‘em?” he asks.

“No,” I say, “just you.” I step out of his apartment and slam the door. I put my hand over my heart as I walk blindly down the steps. Outside the rain has stopped and I stand on the stoop for a moment to gather myself. If you’re going to take the leap and commit adultery you’d hope that the resulting sex would be exceptional in some way – at least memorable. An encounter like that isn’t worth the risk. I’m angry and disappointed but something inside me is also singing and I can’t help but smile.

“Hey Sarah, Funny. I was just thinking about calling you today.”

“Does he listen to Justin Beiber?”

“Jaylee? Oh, God no! He listens to stuff in Spanish. Pearl listens to that twerp, though. She’s begging to go to the concert.”

“Did you know you’re older- that
we’re
older than his mom?”

“Jaylee’s?”

“No, Beiber’s. And by six years. That killed me when I found out. Worse than my first grey pube.”

“TMI, Sarah. TMI.”

“I can’t believe you’re not giving me more frequent updates. I didn’t even know he had a name already. You’re acting like this kind of shit happens to you all the time.”

“I’m sorry, Sar. I don’t see him and then when I do it’s so short and rushed.”

“It’s okay, you’re still my favorite 1%-er.”

“Ugh, Sarah, don’t call me that!”

“Does the kid know he hit the jackpot yet?”

“What, my parents? Yeah, Sarah. I haven’t exactly brought him home to meet the family.”

“You fucked him already, though, didn’t you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse. Juvenile. Strangely violent. The fantasy was better than the reality, just like they say.”

“Well, you did meet him on the playground. Maybe now you won’t be tempted next time.”

“Thing is, I want to see him again. It’s impossible to get it right on the first try, Sarah. One more time and then it will be forever out of my system.”

“Are you telling me or just saying that to yourself? Because neither of us believe you.”

“I’ll tell
him
and that way we’ll establish some clear boundaries.”

“Yeah. Um, right, because this kid
obviously
respects boundaries. You’re asking for it, sister. You’re taking it too far.”

“I’ve got this, Sar, don’t worry. I’m completely in control.”