Unquenched (11 page)

"Good morning to you both," his mother said.  "Now
we can start opening the presents."

The presents seemed endless as we performed the ritual of giving. 
The gifts were both creative and personal.  I gave Jordan his gift, the one we
had purchased together, but he hadn't seen since Indonesia.  It was a
Komodo
dragon, indigenous of the island, a reptile made out of wood.  It truly was a
spectacular piece and I knew that he still loved it.  But as he unwrapped it
the tail caught my eye.  The end of the tail had broken.  A small piece had
been broken off and sat on the floor beside him.  It hurt me to see that it had
come home less than perfect and I wondered if that was a part of my
punishment.  Punishment for being in a place that I shouldn't have been and for
the deceit I felt guilty of exercising.  I found some
Crazy Glue
and
pieced the tail together and it worked surprisingly well.  Jordan dealt with
the situation OK but I ached over its imperfection. 

"And this one is for you," his parents said, as they
handed me a large wrapped box. 

I felt a shiver run down my back with that familiar pang of
guilt.  I hadn't expected to receive anything from his family and would have
truly preferred if I hadn't.  It made me feel worse about the whole situation
and only deepened my wounds.  But I smiled appreciatively and opened the box
and was thrilled at the gift they had gotten me.  There were candle sticks, six
of them, which matched the colors of my apartment.  They were beautiful.  And
there were also six candles to go with them.  Although they were from his
parents, Jordan knew me well.  Yes, I could see myself being a part of this
family.  My life would be stable and I would pray for it to be complete.  Then Jordan
gave me a present.  I was totally surprised, as he had already given me a piece
of Indonesian art that I had fallen in love with in Bali.  He gave me placemats
that he had carefully chosen, again to match my apartment.  But there was
more.  He gave me other assorted special trinkets that were clearly selected
for me.  He was so good to me.  Then he handed me one more box. 

"Here my little chickadee," he said with a smile. 

I opened it.  Sitting in my hands were two tickets for a concert
that I had truly been dying to go to.  They were for the night of New Year's
Eve and tickets had been impossible to get.  But what had made it even more
special, was that Jordan disliked that musical artist and had fought to get the
tickets despite it.  I was crazy.  I had the greatest guy in the world but my
heart just wasn't with him.

The gift giving was over by twelve o'clock noon, and for Jordan
the day had just begun.  My confusion still lingered, but if I was leaving, I
had to start preparing to go.  I showered and dressed and debated with myself
every step of the way.  As I thought about Tristan, he suddenly seemed less
important.  Maybe less real.  I wanted him to be because I thought I wanted it
to work with Jordan.  I was trying so hard.  I came so close to phoning Tristan
and calling the whole thing off.  But I realized then, that it wasn't about Tristan. 
It was about Jordan and understanding my feelings for him.  Or about me and
understanding what it was that I was looking for and what it took to make me
feel what I wanted to.  Tristan was just a means of comparison and a temptation
quite hard to resist.  And I wouldn't.  I owed it to myself to play it all
out.  Even if Jordan and I had a future, I had to put this behind me.

Jordan came into the room as I was getting dressed. 

"Hi," he said.  "So what do you want to do today? 
I have a few ideas." 

I glanced at him with a look of surprise and I was afraid to
respond to his question. 

"What's wrong?" he asked. 

"Jordan," I said softly.  "I'm a little confused. 
I thought we spoke about all of this and when I was planning on leaving.  I'm
thinking about leaving in another two hours or so."  He looked at me with
wide open eyes and I knew I had hurt him again. 

"I thought that you were staying at least until tomorrow
morning.  You haven't even been here for twenty-four hours!  I thought we'd
meet some of my friends today and take a walk on the beach.  Can you at least
do that and leave a little later?" 

Every emotion I had ever known was tugging at me feverishly.  I
wanted to do anything he asked of me but I also had needs of my own.  I wrestled
with his question.  I thought about the hours that I would lose with Tristan
and knew that I had to go. 

"Jordan, I need the night to myself.  If I leave here at 5
p.m, I won't get home until 10.  By then I'll be exhausted and I will have lost
the entire night.  Please understand." 

He looked defeated and said, "Then you may as well just leave
now."

He drove me out to the highway as I followed him in my sister's
trembling car.  When we got to the highway we both pulled over, and got out of
our cars to say good-bye.  I put my arms around him despite his long face, and
then I started to cry.  They were real tears.  Tears of confusion.  Tears of
love.  And tears of hurt for both of us.  He didn't even ask me why I was
crying and I was more than thankful for that.  He knew I had been feeling an
assortment of emotions and probably just chalked it up to that.  But as I
looked at the man that stood in front of me, I made myself a promise.  It was
time.  Time to make a decision.  I was going back to Manhattan to accomplish
something important, and suddenly I had a purpose.  I would make every attempt
to spend my life with Jordan but needed to see someone first.  I ran my fingers
through Jordan's hair and touched the side of his face. 

"We're going to be OK," I said.   And then I drove away.

CHAPTER FOUR

********

The drive back was tough.  The weather had turned bad, the sky was
dark and it had started to rain fiercely.  The wind, for some reason, was still
as strong as it had been the day before.  I was driving my sister's car and had
no choice but to put up with it as it swayed.  I thought about my last words to
Jordan and hoped that we could be happy together.  I was praying that when I
saw Tristan again, the sparks would no longer exist.  I could clean the slate. 
Get him out of my system.  Then start from scratch with Jordan.  He was such a
good man.  And if I committed to him, I would be good to him.  I promised
myself.

It was dark by the time I arrived in Manhattan yet the trip went
surprisingly fast.  It was 8 p.m. and it had taken five hours but I still had
to park the car.  The streets were empty as it was Christmas Day so parking was
surprisingly easy.  After I parked, I realized suddenly that there wasn't
anything in my apartment to drink.  I could pick up a bottle of juice and soda
but I wanted a little something more.  On Christmas Day the liquor stores would
be closed so my options were somewhat limited.  But the Korean delis that were
all over Manhattan were always open and at least they sold beer.  I was bogged
down with bundles that I carried from the car but I would have to manage with
one more package.  I was pressed for time before he arrived and therefore had
to pick up the beer then.  There wouldn't be enough time after I went up to my apartment,
and I really thought that we might need an ice-breaker.  So I bought two six
packs just in case and knew that it would be plenty.

I walked into my apartment and immediately called Jordan to let
him know that I had arrived safely.  He sounded listless and I felt his sadness
but I needed to take a break from my emotions.  Just for one night.  Maybe even
two.  I wanted to focus on the night ahead of me.

Next, I called the Hyatt. 

The woman at reception transferred me to Tristan's room and his
sleepy voice answered, "Hello?" 

"Hi," I responded eagerly.  "I can't believe that
you're really here!  Were you sleeping?"

"Yes," he said, "but I'm ready to get up, I've been
waiting anxiously for your call." 

I heard the excitement in his voice, despite his obvious fatigue. 
For him, with the time difference, it was almost 2:30 a.m. 

"What time is it now?" he asked.  I told him it was 8:30
p.m. and he said, "OK, I'll be at your place at 9."

I raced around the floor debating what to do first, knowing I only
had a half hour to straighten up.  I looked around my apartment which seemed to
display every item that I had taken with me to Singapore.  I hadn't had time to
unpack my things in the short period that I had been home. 

Quick, throw everything into the closets,
I
thought. 

And I did.  At least my apartment would be presentable.  Next I
had to fix my hair.  I had been wearing it straight since I'd been back in cold
weather and out of the humid Asian air.  I hoped that he would like it and
would still be attracted to me as intensely as he had appeared to be before.  I
already knew what I would wear that night, I had decided on the drive home. 
Simple and casual, as we would only be sitting in my apartment.  Blue jeans, a
plain black turtle neck and a short little cropped black blazer.  I threw on a
pair of ankle high black boots and then I knew I was done.  It was a
comfortable look but exuded some sex appeal despite the fact that I was all
covered up.  It felt strange to be wearing winter clothes but I felt good about
the way that I looked.  He hadn't yet arrived but I anxiously anticipated him
taking me in his arms to let me know that he thought so too.

The doorbell rang and my heart raced more quickly than it had ever
done before.  I thought back for a moment to Jordan and I saying good-bye to
each other near the highway back on the Cape.  It was hard to believe that it
had only been a few hours ago.  Already I felt as if I was in another world and
the next few moments were about to define it.  The promise that I had made to
both Jordan and myself would be put to the test very shortly.

There was no turning back anymore.  He was there.  He was an arm's
length away with only a door between us at the apartment where I slept in New
York.  I walked to the door casually and tried to appear relaxed.  I hesitated
briefly as I knew in my heart, that the door I was about to open was one of
many.  I turned the handle and there it was, the extraordinary smile I
remembered so vividly.  The sexy smile that was inscribed in my mind and was
strong enough to speak for both of us. 

"Hi," he said, with nervous laughter as I led him into
my home. 

His eyes searched mine, he found his answer then embraced me with
his firm masculine arms.  His body leaned against me and I wanted to explore
him, but I knew it would have to wait.  It was much too early.  But I had felt
him.  And I knew that he had felt me too.  He realized my soft curves and I
found his hard lines in the instant that our frames touched and met.  The
strength of his being was intoxicating.  The scent on his body drew me in like
a magnet although I could not detect the fragrance.  As I took a deep breath I
felt a throbbing sensation, a stir that I could not control.  I was spellbound
by this creature whose exterior was panther like, agile, long, lean and sleek. 
Yet I was surprisingly comfortable, excited and happy, only I desperately
wanted to touch him.  I assumed what he was feeling as his eyes spoke wonders
yet his hug was somewhat restrained.  The evening would unfold, purposely
slowly, and whatever would happen, would be savored.

His body was adorned, or so I thought, with clothes that enhanced
his look.  He too, wore winter clothes, a style like mine, that specified his
taste and character.  His jacket was oversized, athletic in style and purple in
various shades.  Tristan was of a select few men that gave that color
strength.  He carried it well as it was his presence alone that allowed him the
leeway to venture outside the norm.  His lavender turtle neck framed his shoulders
and arms, and showed off his rugged square chin.  He was wearing jeans.  Worn
out but clean on his muscular legs, I could feel them as he walked into the
room.

"I can't believe you are still so tan, you look great,"
I said with effervescence.  "Come in, let me take your coat and introduce
you to your first New York apartment."

 I laughed, knowing it was probably much smaller than he was
accustomed to as New York was notorious for its tiny spaces.  The music I was
playing was Luther Van Dross, easy to listen to, yet enticing.  Although he was
smiling from ear to ear, I could tell that he was jet lagged, and therefore, I
felt compelled to keep the conversation going. 

"Tris, ready for a beer?" I encouraged. 

"Sure," he said. "That sounds great."  I was
relieved that he accepted so I had a reason to keep busy and I knew that a
drink would help us relax.

I sat down with our drinks, our uneasiness apparent yet felt
comfort in the fact that he appeared nervous.  It gave me confidence that I was
not alone in what I was feeling.  We were sitting on the couch in my studio
apartment and the atmosphere was definitely cozy.  My apartment looked pretty
with peach and teal colors, and the decor reflected touches from abroad.  The
city was quiet as it was Christmas night, and I felt like time was standing
still.  It was almost like the time had been created for us or strangely
enough, stolen.  We were somehow functioning in our own private world and no
one seemed to exist.  People were away, the phone wasn't ringing and there
wasn't any place to go.  Everything was closed.  But the blinds were open and
we could see the city and there was a hush over the darkness outside.