Struck By Lightning: Slow Satisfaction Part 5

"Are we going upstairs soon?" I whispered into his ear.

"Why would we do that, sweetness?" he murmured back, sliding his hands down my rump to press me against the iron of his erection.

"I thought we came here to have s.e.x for the first time."

"Everything we do is s.e.x, sweetness," he chided.

"You know what I mean. What you've been building me up to all this time."

"I know." He spun us in a circle, making me slightly dizzy. "But we don't have to go upstairs for that."

He lifted me up so that I was straddling him, my legs locked behind his back. In real life the ball gown would have made that impossible. In the dream, though, it magically parted so that my p.u.s.s.y was rubbing his fly... then his c.o.c.k. I held tight around his neck while he ground against me, the length of him growing slick from my juices and running up and down over my c.l.i.t.

I knew we were on a dance floor with tons of other people. I knew that didn't matter. I wiggled, trying to get him inside me. That only made him tease me more, backing his hips off and pressing my c.l.i.t with short thrusts of the tip.

"Put it in. Put it in!" I demanded.

"Hush. Who's in charge here?"

"Please put it in," I tried.

"Nice try, but that's not the magic word."

I racked my brain, trying to think of what the magic word could be. Sorry? No. I had nothing to apologize for. f.u.c.k? Doubtful. Wait. I had an idea. This had to be it. I kissed him first while I worked up the nerve to say it.

"I love you."

That was it. He thrust inside me, searing me with the sudden intrusion and burst of ecstasy that filled me as he drove all the way in. I clung to him, squeezing him inside and out, unable to speak, barely able to breathe from the bliss and pleasure and intensity of it all. And relief, a huge sense of relief that we were together again...

That was when it hit me that it was a dream and the relief was fake. We weren't together. This wasn't happening.

I woke with a start to a rumble of summer thunder and the sound of water pouring off the roof as the rain overwhelmed the gutters. One of my hands was in my panties. Despite the strangeness of the dream, I was as wet as the weather. The clock read three a.m., and I guessed Jill had let me sleep through dinner.

A brilliant flash lit up the pull shade in the window, followed by a closer crack of thunder, and I slid my fingers into myself with a stifled moan. My only chance to get back to sleep and get onto a regular schedule was to hope that if I came, I'd drift off again. The rain pelted down outside and I let my fingers slide back and forth as I rocked my hips, unable to stop myself from imagining James watching, whispering to me, teasing me... and telling me to come.

I woke in the morning to a frantic e-mail from Becky, wanting to know what was going on. I ended up calling her and trying to bring her up to date on my mother, her skeevy boyfriend, and James, but I had to cut it short when Jill was ready to leave for the hospital.

We had a brief meeting with Dr. Mukherjee who had already examined Mom, and then got drilled on home care instructions by the staff. They seemed most concerned that we not let her do too much walking on her tender ankle, and told us how to keep the wrist splint dry while she bathed. I was more concerned with the warning signs to look for in case something more serious developed with the blow to her head. Fortunately, they'd already scheduled a follow-up appointment with Dr. Mukherjee for that. Now, if only I could be sure, with her memory problems, that she would remember to go.

We went into the room to find Mom had gotten dressed in clothes Jill had brought yesterday. She was out of bed and sitting in a chair, ready to go. When we came in, she hopped to her feet. "Karina! I'm so glad you're still here." She kissed my cheek, then looked past me at Jill. "Jill. Have you been taking care of your little sister?"

Jill looked surprised; this was the first time in days our mother had addressed her by name. "Of course I have."

Mom reached up and rubbed Jill's hair. "A shame they had to cut your hair so short, though, when you fell and hit your head."

Jill and I looked at each other.

"Doctors have to do that sometimes," Jill said carefully. "But hair grows back."

"I know it does." Mom's hand fluttered by her own ear, and she forced it down. "It just takes time."

Jill nodded, poker-faced. "I kind of like my hair this way, though, Mom. I think I'll keep it."

"Really? Well, to each her own. Come on, now, girls. Let's get moving."

The nurses were there with a wheelchair. Mom said that she could walk, but they insisted that leaving the hospital by wheelchair was how it was done. My mother, never wanting to seem like she was bucking tradition, relented and sat in the wheelchair.

I pushed it down the hall myself. Now I could see Mom had a large shorn patch of hair on the back of her head where they put in st.i.tches after her fall.

Jill drove, Mom sat in the pa.s.senger seat, and I rode in back. Mom put on the radio and hummed along with the song that came on. At least she was cheerful, I thought. She was easier to deal with, though being cheerful didn't make her any less critical or judgmental.

"Oh, look at that ugly new building," she said, as we pa.s.sed what might have been new construction. I couldn't tell. "Why the city felt the need to put that monstrosity in, I'm sure I'll never know." Once she got going, her monologue turned into a steady stream of judgments about the way people kept their lawns, the clothes they were wearing, the cars they drove. I hadn't sat in a car with my mother in a long time, and hearing it this time shocked me a little. This was normal, I realized. Whenever she drove us anywhere-school, the store, dance lessons-she had kept up a running commentary. Once upon a time I'd been so used to it I could tune it out, but I no longer had that immunity.

A Lord Lightning song came on the radio and I braced myself for her to say something cutting about it. But she didn't seem to notice the music now and was more interested in telling us about the landscaping the Rosemonts were doing to their property and how scandalously expensive it was. "A thousand dollars for that sad little tree in the front alone! Couldn't you find something better to do with a thousand dollars? Goodness. Give it to a charity if all you're going to get out of it is a pathetic thing like that."

"I'm sure they're hoping it'll grow up to be a beautiful tree someday," Jill murmured.

"The Ugly Duckling of trees?" Mom sniffed. "I suppose it could happen, but I won't hold my breath."

When we drove past the house, I could see what she meant about the tree, though. Did that mean her memories were up to date now? Once we were inside the house, Jill put the central AC on and the three of us made lunch. After we ate, we sat down in the living room to talk.

"Mom," Jill began, "you know you had a fall and hit your head, right?"

"Oh, I know. They told me at the hospital. But I'm fine now, dear. How are you doing?"

Jill sighed, defeated. "Look, Mom, there's one thing we haven't talked about yet, and I want to make sure we do before I head back to the city."

"What's that, dear?"

"We're concerned that your boyfriend may have stolen from you."

Mom sat very still for a moment, then merely said, "Oh?"

She doesn't even remember him, I thought.

Jill plowed ahead. "Yes. In fact, we're concerned he might have been the one who pushed you down the stairs in the first place."

"That would have been absolutely terrible!" Mom put a hand to her cheek.

"Yes, it would. The fact that you can't remember anything about the fall, well, that's one reason we're worried." Jill must have been thinking the same thing I was. "Mom, do you remember your boyfriend?"

"Oh, of course I do. I could never forget someone I cared about," she said, but something about the prissy way she said it made me think she was bluffing.

"Do you remember his name?" I asked.

She looked at me, then at Jill, then back at me. "Names are very important, Karina, honey. People make judgments based on names."

"I'll take that as a 'no' then?" Jill said. "It doesn't matter anyway, Mom. We think the name he gave you was a false one anyway."

"Really!" Mom looked and sounded scandalized.

"Yes. We think he conned you into thinking he was in love with you, sold your good silver and your jewelry, and that he might come back. If he does, we're worried you could be in danger."

"Well, no need to go to extremes, but..." My mother put her hand to her cheek, then folded her hands in her lap, her spine very straight. "I do know how to handle men, you know, girls."

"Just be careful, Mom," I said. "We're worried about you."

"It's nice to know you care." She leaned over and gave me a little hug. "It's been so long since we had girl time, the three of us like this."

Jill couldn't keep her sarcasm inside. "What, sitting around talking about boyfriends?"

"Exactly! Karina, you were just telling me about the man in your life, weren't you?"

"Well, a little, yesterday." Time to drop the bomb, I guess. "You said you wanted to meet him, so he's coming to Ohio-"

"Is that so? Oh, we definitely have to go shopping and get you that dress I was talking about! All of us should go."

"Mom, are you sure you aren't tired out? Do you need a nap?" Jill asked.

"Jill Elizabeth Casper. I have done nothing but lie in bed for days. I could not be more ready to get out of the house than I am now. Come on. Let's go to the mall. You can rent me one of those scooters."

There was really no arguing with my mother when she got like this. That was how I ended up with not one but two new dresses and a pair of sandals, which I wore home along with one of the dresses because doing so made her happy. Jill didn't completely escape either, though Mom seemed to know not to push things too far. Jill got a Windbreaker. Mom bought herself some new skin cream at one of the makeup counters in a department store and commented that she had already made herself a hair appointment for the morning.

"When did you do that?" Jill asked.

"From the hospital, dear. You remember your old friend from school? She has her own salon now." She fluffed her hair next to the patch where they had shaved it in back.

"What friend?"

"Velma. Only everyone calls her Velvet now."

"Oh!" Jill blushed deeply then, but my mother was too busy looking at herself in the makeup counter mirror to notice.

"I made it for first thing in the morning so I'll look nice to meet Karina's new beau."

"Um, Mom, he's coming tonight..."

"Tsk. I'm sure I'll be asleep by the time he arrives. Perhaps we can meet him for lunch."

I took that as a hint that she was tired, so we took her home. Jill meanwhile found out she was on standby on a flight tomorrow evening, and at the least they could get her onto the last flight out for sure. So that was it. Tonight would be the only night with the three Casper women in the house together.

When we arrived home, Mom went into her room for a nap and Jill and I went down to the garage to check out my mother's car. Within five minutes Jill had figured out the battery had been disconnected. "You see this here?" She pointed down inside the engine where I couldn't really see. "It's cut. That way, even if you put a new battery in, it'll still act dead. Sneaky f.u.c.ker. Well, we might as well call for a tow truck to take it to the shop."

"Wow. I can't believe he did that."

"The worst part is he probably seemed like a really good guy to Mom-you know, driving her everywhere, her knight in s.h.i.+ning armor, when he was the one who did this in the first place. Unbelievable."

"Well, at least she's doing better."

"I know. Her memory seems to have finally caught up. Of all the things to remember, me and Velma!"

"Okay, I don't remember you and Velma, though..."

"I didn't bring her around here much," Jill said with a grimace as she shut the car hood. "She was one of my first girlfriends."

"Oh." Now I understood why she blushed. "Do you think Mom remembers that?"

"I don't know and I'm not going to ask. I sure as h.e.l.l tried to keep it a secret at the time. I was still in the closet. Plus there were people who disapproved of me being friends with an African American girl in the first place. Not that I care what those f.u.c.kers thought anyway, but you know, I was already trying to fly under the radar. Last thing I wanted was some loudmouth from church or wherever saying something to Mom and setting off a rant about appearances or something."

"You don't seriously think Mom would have cared about race."

"Mom herself wouldn't bat an eye. But if she thought people were being judgmental about it? Come on, KayKay. You know how appearance-conscious she is. She might cave. I didn't even want to go down that road to find out what she'd say."

"Well, she seems to like her perfectly well now," I pointed out.

"She likes my current girlfriend Pauline, too. Speaking of which, you promised to feel her out on the marriage issue."

"I haven't forgotten, but this hasn't exactly been the right time."

"I know. I know. But I'm leaving tomorrow. Maybe you'll get a chance after that."

"Maybe."

We went back into the house so Jill could call a tow truck, and I went upstairs to finally get on the phone to Becky.

"Karina, oh my G.o.d, the Lord Lightning fan sites are blowing up with news right now, and did you get your mother today? You know the landlord needs to know if I'm keeping the place."

I closed my bedroom door. "One thing at a time, Becks! One thing at a time. I thought you were going to keep the apartment whether I came back or not."

"Well, that's the thing. It's been really lonely here without you all summer. If you're not coming back, I should try to find a place I can share with a roommate. But you're the only one crazy enough to use the living room as a bedroom like you do."

My apartment really wasn't meant for two. I'd taken Becks as a roommate because I'd needed the money, and to convince her to move in, I'd given her the bedroom while I used the folding futon in the living room as my bed. "Okay, but it's really late to be finding a new apartment and a new roommate by September first."

"I know," she said dejectedly. "Which is why I'm really hoping you're coming back."

"Seems likely one way or another," I said. "Meanwhile, my mother's doing pretty well. She's going to have some physical therapy for her wrist and ankle and some follow-ups for her head injury. But she's definitely on the mend."

"Oh, thank goodness."

"So what's the latest on LL?"

"Since I talked to you this morning, there's been definite proof that his production company reserved the same theater in Las Vegas where they put on Bride of the Blue. But no one has been able to find out if it's going to be a reprise of that show or what."

Becky was a huge Lord Lightning fan. And I should have been the ultimate insider for that information, but until I talked to James, I didn't know a thing.

I thought about his e-mail though, how he'd hinted at the fact that he had business obligations that were cropping up unexpectedly. He'd hoped to retire from the music business, but now Ferrara Huntington was chasing him down.

"I might know more after I talk to him," I said. "He's coming here."