THE HEALING COLORS OF SOUND

 

By

Donna M.

 

 

 

I was coming from a rather dark place in my life.  My dad, who was my anchor, had died suddenly, and since I wasn�t in a relationship I felt pretty much alone.  Then there was the diagnosis.  I was too young for that.  I had to move, start over.  That�s why I was here. 

The beach drew me.  Some of my favorite memories of childhood were the excursions with the family to the closest New England beach resort.  I�d have a little too much sun, too much fried dough with powdered sugar, and way too much of my pest brother.  What I never got too much of was love.  Then I grew up and made a �choice� which was really not a choice at all.

 

She was ahead of me in line at the bank.  I was impatient (why so many people? I thought everyone used on-line banking now) and I guess it showed.  The woman turned to look at me, probably because of the involuntary sigh I made.  She was an older woman, lean, maybe in her late forties or early fifties, with a no-nonsense short brunette hairdo with a few wisps of gray and a smile that cut me in half.  Only in fairy tales do eyes twinkle, but I swear hers did. 

�It does seem like forever, doesn�t it?� she said, which along with her looks diffused my impatience.  Damn, a woman her age turning me on!

�Especially when you�re on your way to a job interview,� I said, hoping this strange feeling of arousal didn�t come across in my voice.

�Well, good luck to you,� she said, smiling radiantly.  As the line inched ahead, she asked, �If you don�t mind me asking, where in this unholy tourist mecca would you be interviewing? Except for my place, I didn�t think anyone was hiring.�  I told her about the job possibility.  When I mentioned the name of the shop, she scrunched her nose up and leaned closer, whispering, �I hate to tell you this, but the woman who runs that store is a bitch, pardon my French.�  When I didn�t say anything in return, she continued, �I�m sorry. It�s not my place to be gossiping like that.  I need help at my shop, and the b�, oops, I almost said it again, gets someone like you to apply.�

 I couldn�t believe my ears.  �You need help?�

�I sure do.  You know what I�d like to do?  I�d like to take you to lunch.  Consider it your job interview. Unless my sixth sense is all screwed up, I bet I�ll hire you, and you�ll thank me someday.  I�m Beverly, by the way.  You can call me Bev.�

�I�m Darcy,� I said as we shook hands.  I told her I thought it was a marvelous idea.  We chatted until we completed our banking business.  I saw the ring on her finger, so even though I�m a card-carrying member of the �L� club, I chalked her up as an unfulfilled fantasy, as I do with most women I run into that arouse me so easily.  Lunch sold me.  I accepted the job, knowing I�d enjoy working for Bev.  I was settling in to this quaint little beach town following my brief flirtation with the big city after graduation.  It took me four years and a fruitless job hunt to learn my liberal arts degree wasn�t going to be my ticket to riches.  I figured if I was going to be a pauper store clerk I may as well be one by the beach.

I�d been working for Bev about two enjoyable weeks when she invited me to her house for dinner.  If it were someone other than Bev, I would�ve begged off.  Instead, I said yes.  The house was a beautifully maintained cape.  Her husband, Ted, was a computer guru and web designer who commuted to the city, though he did say he could telecommute on many days.  �Then I can hang out in my bathing suit and visit the beach,� he said with a chuckle.  �If you see a nerd with a laptop on the beach someday, you�ll know it�s me.�  He was a good looking guy, with salt and pepper hair, and without the paunch so many fifty-plus men seem to acquire.  It didn�t take long for me to peg him as a player though, eyeing my chest and undressing me with his eyes.  I hoped he didn�t cheat on Bev.  She deserved better.

Petite Sarah, their oldest at fourteen, was quiet and reserved, perhaps because of her age (which can be a very awkward one, at least it had been for me).  She wasn�t one for eye contact, but I recognized a certain interest in me beyond curiosity.  I�d always been tuned in to those kinds of signals, though I have misjudged them in the past.  On the other hand, their ten-year-old son, Nathan, was a relentless chatterbox who wanted to know everything about me in the first ten minutes.  He�d take after his father.

Dinner was great, and in thanking Bev I said, �You�ve got a lovely family.�

�They are precious, aren�t they?� She then asked, �What about your family?�

I told her of my father�s recent passing and how my mom wasn�t coping well.  �I felt like such a coward for not moving back home, but I couldn�t take the constant pressure from her, which for some reason got magnified after my dad�s death.  My younger brother lives on the west coast so he can�t help.�

�Pressure?� she said as a question, and I was pleased she didn�t ask what my brother could help me with.

�Let�s just say my mom has never accepted the woman I�ve become.�  I couldn�t tell Bev what my mom really didn�t accept.  My dad had come to terms with who I was, but she never could.

�It seems to me you�ve become a fine young woman, Darcy,� she said, �I�m so thankful we met.�

�Me too,� I said.  I kissed her chastely on the cheek, visions of much more invading my mind.

Not simply because of Bev did I enjoy my job.  The pay wasn�t much yet the work wasn�t stressful either.  I didn�t need more stress.  I had time in the early morning to walk the beach and dabble in my painting, which I�m afraid, was nothing more than a hobby.  No one ever looked at my finished works and pointed me toward an art gallery; therefore I painted as therapy.  The early morning solitude and the crisp offshore breezes were the best therapy for lonely, worrisome me. 

That morning was a typical morning on the beach, a little chilly but with promise of a nice summer day ahead.  I breathed in the salt and seaweed tinged air, set things up and went to work.

�Hi there, Darcy.  I don�t usually run into people I know so early in the morning.�  Startled by the voice behind me, I turned quickly to see that it was Ted.  He was wearing red Speedo trunks (why do men still insist on wearing those ridiculously tight bathing suits well after their prime?) and an unbuttoned ecru linen shirt.

I said, �That�s why I come out here to paint, nobody around.�  I begged to the gods not to have him make a pass.

Looking from me to my work-in-progress then back again, he said, �You do great work.  I like the vivid use of color.  Most people who paint out here this time of day end up making things too gray, too bleak for me.�  Pure bullshit, but what did I expect from a man who so desperately wanted me to look at his bulge.   The view was wasted on me but he didn�t know that.  I thanked him, anyway.

He said, �I�m happy you�re here, Darcy, and I�m happy you�re working for Bev.  I�m glad you�re her friend; she needs a good friend.�  I thought what she doesn�t need is a philandering husband.  I let out a long, loud sigh when he walked away.  I promised myself I wouldn�t say anything to Bev about Ted.  I only had suspicions, after all.  She deserved better.  Thinking of what he said about others painting �too gray,� I grew morose, wondering how long it would be before everything faded from gray to black.   You see, my painting was more than therapy; it was my tether to normalcy, and to what I would someday lose.

 

The more I was invited to Bev�s house for dinners or for weekend get-togethers, the more I felt part of the family.  Quiet and usually sullen Sarah began to open up, and in doing so I saw more and more of Bev in her.  Bev said to me one day, �She really likes you, you know.  I�m not sure if it�s a surrogate big sister thing or a second mom thing, but she�s come out of a shell.�

�I doubt if it�s the second mom fixation.  You�re a perfect mom, one any kid would appreciate.  Why would Sarah need another?�

�Darcy, you�re so sweet to say such a thing.  I can�t speak for your mom, but I�d be proud to call you my daughter.�

If only.

One morning I forsook painting and decided on some lazy sunbathing.  Feeling better about myself, and maybe a little frisky, I wore my skimpiest bikini.  Men ogled, and at least I felt proud of my body, if nothing else.  I hoped Ted wouldn�t show up.  I was pleasantly surprised when Bev approached with the kids.

�Hi there!� Bev called out.  �Can you stand some company?�  Sarah surprised me the most.  I would have thought she�d rather hang with friends than spend time at the beach with her mom and little brother, yet here she was.  I said, �Of course,� and helped them spread out another blanket.

Bev and I talked shop for a little while, until Sarah commented on my bikini.  �I wish I had one like that,� she said.

I looked to Bev for guidance, since I didn�t want to make a suggestion not backed by her mom.  Bev said, �You�ll have your chance someday�when you fill out a bit more.� 

That wasn�t the parental advice I was looking for, so I waded into dangerous waters, saying to both of them, �I don�t mean to intrude, but I�m not sure it�s a matter of �filling out,� but a matter of fitting in.  I remember when I was Sarah�s age.  I wanted to fit in with the crowd, and that meant making sure everything I wore was �in.� If you don�t mind, Bev,� I said, turning to Sarah, �Sarah, I can take you shopping for a new bikini.�  I mentioned a shop further up the beach.  �They have some nice styles, and not expensive at all.�

Sarah looked pleadingly at her mother.  Bev said to me, �I�m okay with it, as long as it�s not some tiny string thing, and you don�t spend a dime of your own money on it.  I�ll pay.�

�Oh, thanks, Mom!� Sarah practically shouted before hugging Beverly tightly.  When Sarah hugged me, I had to fight the urges that had built up within me.

Even with my offer, I hadn�t been looking at Sarah.  It was Bev�s one-piece suit that I�d been looking at since she arrived.  She had no reason to feel inadequate in how she looked in it.  On the contrary, she looked stunning, with a shape any woman half her age would die for.  I daydreamed about what she�d look like out of her bathing suit, and the image made me wet.  If she realized how I was looking at her, she didn�t let on.

Unfortunately, it soon became time to work.  I walked to my apartment to shower and change, and arrived at the shop in time to find Bev opening up.  As the day went on, it seemed to me we had a bit more foot traffic than usual and I passed along that observation to Beverly.  �Maybe it�s like the tides,� she said, �a natural phenomenon we simple human�s can�t comprehend, so why try?�

We laughed and rang up sales.  We had a good day.

 

The following morning I took Sarah bikini shopping as promised.  After looking at every suit in the place�and some twice�she settled on a cute little hot pink number.  Sure, it was all triangles and strings, but the price was reasonable and her still-developing body wasn�t going to spill out of it.

�Do you think Mom will mind?� she asked.

�She�ll probably kick and scream, like what moms are supposed to do.  It�s in the Mothers� Manual, I think.�

Sarah laughed.  �Yeah, she will.�

�You love your mom, don�t you?� I asked.

�Sure�sure I do.�

I needed to explain my intrusion.  �I asked only because I think your mother is the best person I�ve ever met, and I�m hoping you and Nate understand what kind of a special woman your mom is.�

�I�I�I guess so,� she stammered.  I regretted putting her in this awkward situation.  �I think you�re the second nicest person I�ve ever met.  Let�s get you home so you can try on the suit for your mom, okay?�  I put my arm around the girl and hugged her to me.  Her eyes sparkled.  Once again I saw Beverly�s eyes in her daughter�s.  �Your mom won�t dare criticize it�I�ll threaten to quit.�

�No you won�t!�

�Will too!� I answered, feeling more her age as we both giggled at our silliness.

In Sarah�s bedroom, she hesitated undressing in front of me.  �It�s not as if I haven�t seen a naked woman before,� I said.  Maybe it was the �naked woman� part, but her demeanor changed as she began to strip.  I held out my hand with her bikini in it, as she slid her panties down to the floor and kicked them aside.

Before she took the bathing suit from my hand, she said, �Do you�do you think I have�do you think I�m pretty?�

�You�re beautiful, sweetheart, especially when you smile.  But I know what you were also asking.  You want to know what I think about your body.  Well, that�s beautiful too.�

�Not like yours,� she said, barely above a whisper.

�What�s so special about mine, anyway?�  I helped her tie up the bikini while saying, �So maybe my breasts are larger, but so are my hips.�

�Will mine grow to be like yours?�

�I hope you mean your breasts and not your hips.�  I eyed her, smiled and nodded as she posed for me.  �You look fantastic, Sarah!  Don�t worry about the boobs,� I said.  �Yours are growing, and trust me, firmness beats huge any day, regardless of what they look like in Hollywood with all their implants.  Now, let�s go show your mother.�

Sarah kissed me on the cheek, and with a smile on her face took off to show Bev, with me in tow.  God bless her; Bev�s initial expression was one of horror but it lasted only a millisecond, one I hoped Sarah hadn�t seen, but she turned it quickly to one of tempered approval.  �I guess it�s what all the girls are wearing nowadays,� she said.  �You look great in it, Sarah.  Nice selection.�

Basking in glow of her mother�s approval, Sarah said, �When are you gonna get one, Mom?  Darcy can take you shopping for your bikini.  She said you have the body for it.�  That wasn�t exactly what I�d said, so I smiled sheepishly when Bev looked at me.  At least she didn�t ask.

�I think it�s time for work,� Bev said before we hustled off to the shop.  As she unlocked the door, Bev said to me, �You told her I had the body for a bikini?�

�I�m sorry if that embarrassed you, but you do.�

�Me in a bikini would be the real embarrassment.�

After we opened the store, we continued the conversation.  I said, �You�re wrong about the bikini.  Unless you have some stretch marks or an appendectomy scar you want to hide, your body looks as shapely as anyone�s.  You�re a beautiful lady, and I think beauty, like fine art, should be displayed.�

I smiled but she frowned.  �I wish Ted thought that way, instead of��

�Instead of what?�

�Never mind.  I shouldn�t burden you with my troubles.�

�You�re my boss, but I hope we�re also friends,� I said, placing a hand on each of her shoulders.  �We are friends, right?  Whatever you want to get off your chest, and that looks great too, I might add, is okay with me.�

She blushed at my comment about her chest.  �Your chest looked pretty fine in your bikini yesterday.  Take my word for it, mine aren�t nearly as nice.�  Both mother and daughter had �breast envy,� it appeared.  A steady flow of customers stemmed the conversation after that.  Later, Bev invited me to share a drink after work �on the back porch,� as she put it, which really was a deck.

Out on the deck as evening turned to night, with the tang of sea air somehow making everything a little bit cozier, we settled into a couple of Long Island rockers, tired yet satisfied after a good day at the shop.  Bev had mixed up a pitcher of cocktails, the name she gave the mixture not meaning anything to me.  It was good and potent, though, and so I sipped happily.  When I asked where her husband was, I was shocked that she began crying.  Through her tears, she said only that he was �out� and said no more.  I didn�t pry.  She�d tell me soon enough.

Finally as the crying subsided, she said, �You must think me a silly woman, crying like this because her husband doesn�t find her attractive anymore and he comes up with lots of excuses to be out late on �business� all the time.�

�I don�t think like that.  I think your husband�s an idiot, though.�

That brought a smile.  She said, �You really did say that stuff about me to my daughter, didn�t you.  About my body.  Maybe I�ll take you up on a bikini shopping expedition after all, considering how good you made me feel.  If I don�t chicken out first.�  She left her chair and walked to the deck railing.  �There�s something about the air on these summer nights,� she said, then started crying again.

I stood and went to her.  �Do you know for a fact Ted is�fooling around?�

�A woman can tell,� was her answer, and she was probably right.

I turned her toward me.  �I know I wouldn�t ever cheat on you.�

Her eyes grew wide.  �You�re�?�

�Yes, I am,� I said in a croaking voice I hardly recognized as my own.  I pulled her to me and kissed her.  She tensed at first but didn�t push me away.  My lips remained busy as I felt her resolve melt.  By the time I insinuated my tongue between her parted lips, her tongue was ready to meet mine.  We kissed for a long while, our bodies together, bathed in the crisp night air of the seashore.

She eventually pulled away and said, �Oh God�oh God�I can�t�it�s not right��

�Because I�m a woman?� I said, letting some of the bitterness of my mother�s rejection seep through.

�No!� she said a bit too loudly.  �Because I�m a married woman�and shit�it feels so good�the kiss, everything.�

�I want you Bev.  I need you,� I said, hearing the urgent plea in my voice.

�We can�t.�  She sighed, then said, �I think it�s a good idea to call it a night.  Busy day tomorrow.�

�Okay, but Bev, please don�t let what just happened get in the way of our friendship.  At least we�ll have that, and it�s special.�

She placed a hand on my cheek, and said, �It won�t, Darcy�it won�t.  And what just happened is an old lady was made to feel wanted again, and I appreciate that more than you know.�

�I�m here for you�anytime.�

�I know.�  She turned away then looked back at me.  �No offense, but your mom sounds as idiotic as my husband.�

�No offense taken,� I said, this time with a tear in my eye.  We embraced before I walked back to my apartment.

 

The following morning, I was at my usual spot on the beach, which was mostly deserted at this early morning hour.  I was having a difficult time focusing on the canvas�the latest of the phenomena I�ve come to call my �spells.�  This one was pretty bad.  I made a mental note to call my doctor for an appointment sooner than later.  My work in progress may have been dark and blurry at the moment, but the sight of Bev approaching was crystal clear.

�Hi,� she hailed.

�Hi back at ya,� I said in reply.  �You�re out and about early this morning.�

If I expected light-hearted banter, she disappointed me.  �I smelled it on him.�

�Smelled what?� I asked, but I already knew what she meant.

�Sex.  The smell of sex.  He thought he could shower before I got home from the shop, but he couldn�t rid himself of the smell of her.�

�I�m sorry, Bev.  I really am.  What can I do to cheer you up?�

�We can go shopping.  Maybe a new bathing suit is what I need.�

�Then let�s do it,� I said.  �We�ll stop at my place so I can change first.�  I turned to pick up the easel to pack it up, but the blurred vision made me miss it somehow, and I knocked it over into the sand.�

�Oh no!  It�s ruined,� Bev exclaimed as she vainly tried to brush sand from the still wet paint, getting paint on her hand instead.

�Don�t sweat it,� I said.  �Maybe this new �sand art� will be the �Velvet Elvis� fad of the decade.�  I tried to deflect her worry with laughter, but it didn�t work.

�Are you okay, Darcy?�

�I�m fine.  Let�s go,� I said before she could voice any more concerns, though I saw it on her face, even if my vision was darkened and blurred.

As I changed, she washed the paint from her hand.  We walked to the same shop where Sarah bought her bikini; two women trying to put on a happy face and appear relieved of their individual burdens.   Being with her made me feel immeasurably better.  I fought every urge to be in the dressing room with her.  She didn�t let me see her in the first two she tried on.  �Much too small,� she said.  When she modeled the third one for me, I stopped breathing.  The word �breathtaking� was just a word before that moment.  As beachwear goes nowadays, the black two-piece she had on was almost matronly, but she looked so stunning in it my head spun.

�Bev, you look gorgeous!� I gushed as soon as I could breathe again.

�You really think so?� she said, looking down questioningly at her exposed midriff.  �You don�t think this is showing too much?�

Without a bulge or a stretch mark in sight, I couldn�t believe how she looked.  Based on her timidity, neither could she.  I said to her, �Do you even know how great you look?  Now I KNOW your husband�s an idiot.�

She blushed, and then probably remembered what she�d realized earlier, blushing a deeper red.  �I can�t��

�Yes you can, and you�re going to,� I said, hurrying the dressing room to fetch a couple more bikinis off the racks.  When I returned, she was back in the cubby, probably dressing, and I tossed the suits over the door, saying, �I want to see these on you.�

�No,� she said, sounding like a petulant child.

�Don�t be a baby, and don�t be a martyr either.  Show the world how amazing you look, and your husband too.�  It took a while before she emerged wearing one of the suits.  The turquoise bikini wasn�t that skimpy though it was cut high on the hips, and the bandeau style top accentuating her breasts without showing too much.  �Oh God, it looks fantastic!  Turn around so I can see your ass,� I said before I realized how that sounded.  When she didn�t immediately turn, I took her by the waist and spun her around, �Come on, I just want to make sure it�s not showing something you don�t want to show.�  Without thinking, I slipped a finger under the bottom�s edge and straightened it out a bit.  I was pleased she didn�t stop me from touching her ass even that innocently, though I didn�t take that as a sign of anything except acquiescence.

�Well?� she said.

�Okay, maybe that bottom isn�t for you.  Try on the other one.�

With an exaggerated sigh, she closed the door, and I waited.  This suit was canary yellow, with a more traditionally cut bottom but with a top that was triangles and string.  �Oh, no, not this one.  I�m too old for this one� she declared through the door.

�Let me be the judge of that.  Get your ass out here and show me.�  A couple of teens who were also in the dressing room laughed at my command.  When Bev opened the door, I whistled.  �Mama, that�s the one!� I said, blown away by how great she looked in it.  The yellow was perfect for her hair and skin coloring, and the top accentuated the curve and swell of her breasts without letting anything �hang out� there too much.

One of the teens checked her out and appraisingly said, �Yeah, Mama, you look good enough to eat,� giggling as her friend pulled her away in what looked like a jealous snit.

�Yes, we�re everywhere,� I said, adding, �She�s right, you know.  You look better than good.�

�Oh, Darcy, you can�t mean that.  I mean, she was just teasing me.  This isn�t who I am,� she said as she looked at herself in a mirror.

�Maybe not.  Maybe it�s who you should be.�  I couldn�t control it.  I went to her, cupped her face in my hands and kissed her boldly.  She went rigid at first but after a few moments I felt her relax.  Her tongue met mine.  The heat wasn�t all from me.  She must have kept so much sexual energy bottled up because of her idiotic husband it was all escaping here in the store�s dressing room.

She pulled away suddenly.  �No, Darcy.  This suit isn�t right and neither was what we just did.�

I whispered, �What exactly did we just do?�   I�d placed my hand on her inner thigh and felt the shiver.  �It was a kiss.�

�You know what I mean,� she said.  �I�m married, and I�m not��

�Right, you�re not a lesbian like me.  Instead, you�ve tossed aside your sexuality and taken up a martyr�s cross.  You�ve got more than I deserve, but if you don�t want me, then so be it.  Let�s go back to buying you a bikini.  If this one isn�t the one, then let�s see if we can find a more conservative bottom to match that fantastic turquoise top.  The young clerked looked at her funny when she handed her all the tried-on suits.  Had she felt wetness on the bottoms?  I could only wonder.  She did locate the perfect bottoms to go with the twist bandeau top, and Bev reluctantly acquiesced and paid for her purchase.   She made a promise to meet me in the morning on the beach�wearing her new suit.  For now, we had a shop to run.

The day was quiet.  Though sales were slow and customers were scarce, we didn�t fill the time with too much casual conversation.  I knew that I was in love.  However, like my usual love interests, the longing was going only in one direction.

Before we closed up for the night, I said, �Don�t let anything get in the way of our friendship.�

She smiled and nodded, otherwise saying nothing.

My night was restless with little sleep.  When I did, I either dreamed of Beverly as an unattainable thing in the distance, unable to be reached, or of blindness, knowing she was near me yet unable to be seen.

I was painting when she approached me the following morning on the beach.  I really hadn�t expected her.  After saying �Hi,� she pulled her beach wrap open to show that she was wearing the new bikini.

�It looks great, Bev.  What did your family say about it?�

�I didn�t show Ted, but Sarah said it was cool, though I think she�s conflicted about her mom wearing something like this.�

�She�ll get over it, now sit down on the blanket and keep me company while I try to finish this scene.�

She alternated watching me paint and gazing out at the roiling waves.  I alternated paying attention to my work and stealing glances at her.  After a while she said, not looking at me, probably on purpose, �You can�t imagine how messed up I�ve been since yesterday.  Maybe I�ve been playing ostrich too long, hiding my head in the sand and not facing what�s happened to my marriage.  And now I�ve been hiding from how you look at me; hiding from how you feel about me.�  She sighed, then continued, �Maybe I�m too old fashioned, but I can�t�even when I admit to myself that when you kissed me it was the first time I felt alive�a spark, in ages.�

My vision fogged.  I thought I was having an episode until the first tear drop slid down my cheek.  �Bev, sweet Bev, I can�t help being who I am, and I can�t help that I love you.  Please don�t sound like my mother.  If you can�t, I�ll try to understand.  Maybe it�s a good time to move along anyway, see other places before��

She looked at me.  I was surprised to see that she too was crying.  �Before what?� she asked.

�Nothing,� I muttered, breaking eye contact and gazing out to sea.

�I�m not your mother.  I�m not judging you,� she said, �in fact I�m flattered by your�infatuation�at my age��

I never heard the rest of what she said to me.  The graying of my vision was not tears this time, and it was accompanied by a roaring sound much like an amplified version of the surf below us.  �Ohhhhhhhhh, Bev!� I murmured.

�What�s the matter?� she said, concern written on her face as she came to me.

I couldn�t answer.  I didn�t actually pass out.  It was if I�d fallen into a dark crevasse, muffling all my senses, not just my sight.  She didn�t panic, she simply held me until the spell slipped away and I could see and hear again, though colors were muted somehow.  She helped me pack up my equipment, and with her arm around me for support, helped me to my apartment.

�Are you going to tell me what�s wrong?� she implored once we were inside.  �You want me to call a doctor?�

�No,� I answered.  �I mean, I�ll tell you, but don�t bother with a doctor.�  She looked at me quizzically; her eyes extra beautiful scrunched up like that in worry.  �I can�t help it if I love you.  That�s my �I can�t�.�

I kissed her, and this time there was no tenseness to overcome.  Instead of �I can�t� this time, she whispered, �I�m afraid.�

�Don�t be,� I said as I unhooked her bikini top.

�I don�t know�what to do.�

�Sshhh, I�ll show you.�

I dropped my top and then led her to my bed.  She was extremely self-conscious of her exposed breasts, but as with the rest of her body it was utter foolishness.  Her breasts had a lovely upswing to them, like her entire body belying her age, with small, dark areolas and prominent nipples.  I knew I�d enjoy sucking on them.  We kissed with our eyes open, as if we were trying to read each other�s mind through them.  We embraced and kissed on the bed for the longest time, until I began kneading her breasts.  She moaned, and whispered, �That feels so good�it�s been so long.�  I kept at it for a while.

I turned myself around and slipped her bottoms off over her quivering legs.  Except for a modest peripheral trim, she had a full bush, which was now glistening from leaking juices.  I kind of liked that�it added to the charm of her guileless sexuality.  I pulled off my own bottoms before, in a sixty-nine embrace, I began tonguing her, wondering what she thought of my waxed-smooth pubis now in her face.  I licked and sucked on her clitoris.  She grew very wet, leaking a copious amount of pussy juice.  A long time, indeed; how long her arousal was unexpressed could only be speculated upon, yet it was being expressed now.

�Darcyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,� she cooed as her thighs trembled, and her vulva throbbed and pulsed in orgasm.  I didn�t stop loving her, kissing every inch of her body, lingering at her nipples until I moved downward and sucked her clit to a second, loud climax.  I didn�t expect reciprocation.  My fulfillment this day was to bring pleasure to the woman I knew I loved.

In my arms, she said, �I don�t know if I�ve ever felt like that.  I guess I thought orgasms like that were mythical or something.  Thank you for not giving up on hopeless old me.  You�re so young, and beautiful.  I don�t know what you see in me�

�You�re not hopeless or old.  What I see is the woman I always dreamed of meeting�and falling in love with.�

�But you can�t!  There�s no future with me.  I�m a mother and a wife, and I can�t walk away from them.�

�I�m not asking you to do anything, just love me back.  I need it.  Especially now.�

�Darcy, what�s the matter with you?  What happened on the beach?  Are you sick or something?�

I had to tell her.  It was only fair.  �I have a rare disease, a big long name that means the part of my brain that controls sight is deteriorating.  It�s not like a tumor, or anything they can operate on.  The bottom line is sometime soon I�ll be blind.  It won�t kill me.  I�ll survive.�

�Oh Darcy, dear, why didn�t you tell me before now?�

I saw the look of concern on her face, and knew it was a mistake to tell her.  �I didn�t say anything because from the moment we met in the bank that day I�ve loved you.  I want your love, not pity.  That�s why.�

Her closeness, the heat, set me ablaze with arousal.  I wanted her.  I needed her.  But this morning wasn�t the time, if the time would ever come.  She went home to change.  We had a store to run.

 

For three days we worked together, outwardly warm and yet we didn�t say much to each other.  After closing on that third day, Bev said, �We had a good one today.  What do you say we hit a bar and have a nightcap?�

�Does your family know you�re not coming home right away?�

�I�ll call,� she said.  �Besides, Ted was out late last night so tonight�s my turn.�

I didn�t care for the �rebound� motivation, but spending time with Bev was its own reward.  We locked up and headed for one of the beach�s livelier nightspots.  One drink became two, then three as we chatted about everything but the two of us together.  Several men hit on us in vain, and I pointed out that I wasn�t the only one in the bar who thought she was desirable.

She leaned close and whispered, �Let�s go to your apartment, okay?�  We didn�t quite stumble out the door, though on wobbly legs the two of us managed to walk to my place.  When we were inside, she said, �Show me how to make love to you.�

She showed me that she�d shaved (�For you�).  Maybe it was the drinks that loosened her up.  Maybe it was just time.  She was very cautious at first; however with some coaching and the flowering of her libido (and a little help from my talented fingers) she had me writhing in pleasure.  My orgasm was explosive, my pent-up arousal like a hidden stick of dynamite finally blowing up, her tongue the blasting cap.  Then it was my turn to pleasure her.  Her orgasm came swiftly, preceded by much wetness.  I wondered what Ted would say when this woman, his wife with her �just fucked� smile never mind her shaven pussy, came home.

The concept of �sealed with a kiss� resonated when the following day in the shop, after glancing around to be sure no one was looking, she pulled me to her and planted a wet one on me.

The next day, Bev and the kids visited my beach spot.  While her kids walked down to the water�s edge, she asked me if I was feeling okay.  �I haven�t had one of my spells, if that�s what you mean.  Which is a blessing even if I know my destiny won�t change.�  I said, my attention drawn to Sarah and Nathan.  �How are things at home?�

�Ted knows something�s going on but he can�t figure out what, or with whom.�

�How are you?�

�I�m feeling great!� she said with a grin.  �You did it.  You made me feel this good, Darcy.�  Before I knew it, she kissed me, long and deep.  When our lips parted, she whispered, �I love you.�

It was golden to hear those words.  She may never truly be mine, but somehow we�d work things out, and we�d be together.  At least I could dream.  I happened to glance toward her kids, and saw Sarah staring at us.  I asked her, �Has Sarah been okay?  I mean, why is she here and not hanging around with her friends?  I know when I was her age I didn�t want to be seen with my family at all.�

�I don�t know.  She said she wanted to come along, and I didn�t question her.  She did say she wanted to see you, though.�

The way Sarah�s eyes narrowed after she obviously saw her mother and me kissing brought back those niggling questions about her sexuality.  Was she a budding lesbian and infatuated with me?  Did Beverly just enter a new minefield, her daughter being as much an issue as her husband?  �She saw us kissing.  You know she�ll tell her father.�

She thought for a moment.  �Maybe that�s not a bad thing.�

�Are you sure?  Be prepared, that�s all,� I said.

When the kids rejoined us, I made a point to praise how Sarah looked in her new bikini.  Whether the compliment added fuel to the fire or not I�d probably find out sometime soon.  I never did get much painting done.  It was just as well since my vision wasn�t that great this morning, and I didn�t want Bev to know.  They helped me pack up.  We went our separate ways, though not before Bev gave me a yearning look, and I mouthed a silent �I love you� to her in return.

She kissed me again at the shop when we didn�t have a customer in the store.  �If it stays slow like this,� she said.  �Maybe we can close up early and go to your place.  I want to make love again, Darcy.�  And that ended up being what we did.

This second time was slower, less frantic.  For her part it was also less tentative.  She wanted to explore my body.  She studied me with her lips, her fingertips, and her tongue.  My nipples positively ached by the time I came with a loud cry.  �I really like it when you orgasm,� she said.  �The sounds you make are like sweet music.  They remind me of what I�ve missed all these years�not hearing myself making those same noises.�

When I was done with her, she made quite a bit of noise.

 

I didn�t dare go to the beach the next day.  My vision was all fucked up, not simply fuzzy and devoid of color.  I wasn�t sure I could work like that, so I contemplated calling Bev but changed my mind.  I�d tough it out.  I had to if I was going to survive.  Rolling up into a fetal position and hiding in a corner wasn�t an option.  I went to work.

Bev was troubled even before she saw me and knew something was wrong.  �You�re having one of those things�spells or whatever you call them, aren�t you?� she said.

With a mean headache somehow joining my sensory dysfunction, it didn�t make sense to lie to her.  �Yeah, it�s particularly bad today.  As long as I can still see, I�ll stick it out.�  It was now my turn to ask.  �What�s up with you?  You�re worried about something besides me.�

�Maybe.  It�s nothing really, and it�s not about Ted.  Sarah has me worried.  Ever since she�you know�saw us�on the beach the other day, she�s been sulking and won�t talk to me.  Did I hurt her in some way?�

Not in the way you imagine, I thought.  �Let me talk to her, okay?� I said.  �Maybe you can talk her into visiting me on the beach tomorrow morning?�

Bev said she�d make the invitation, and we finished the busy day tired yet satisfied with the day�s sales.  She didn�t ask and I wasn�t going to volunteer that my �spell� lasted all day.  Was color gone from my life already?

In the early morning at my favorite beach spot, I painted by memory, choosing colors based on how I remembered them to be, both in nature and on my palette.  When I became convinced that Sarah wouldn�t come, that�s when she appeared.  It was hard for me to decipher her mood; I�d let our talk do that.

�Hi sweetheart,� I said in greeting.  �How are you this morning?�

�I�m okay, I guess.  Mom said you wanted to talk to me.�

�Let�s sit, then we�ll talk,� I said, motioning to my beach blanket.  We sat cross-legged, not quite facing each other.  She couldn�t make eye contact.  I began, �What�s troubling you, Sarah?  I figured you�d talk to me even if you won�t tell your mom.�

�Do you love Mom?� she asked.

�You saw us kiss, right?  The answer is yes, I do love her.  She�s the most fantastic woman I�ve ever met.�

�Is she gonna leave us and live with you?�

�No, sweetheart.  She won�t.  She�d never abandon you.  She loves you too much to do that.�

�Have you, like, had sex?�  Finally, eye contact.

�That�s between your mom and me.  Why does that matter?�

She didn�t answer me directly; however the real issue surfaced nonetheless.  �Do you like me?�

�Yes Sarah, I think you�re a special girl.  I helped you get that bikini, didn�t I?�

�Do you really think I�m pretty?�

�Yes, I do.�

�Pretty enough to want to have sex with me?�

�I guess you figured out I�m a lesbian.  You know what that means, obviously.  I also guess you like girls as I do.  I won�t answer your question until you answer mine: have you had sex?�

�I�er�I�like, yeah, with a couple of girls in my class.�

�Was it good, you know, did you like it?�

�You mean did I cum?  Oh yeah!� she said, cracking her first smile.

�I�m happy for you, I really am.  My first times were with older ladies and not so much fun.  Which leads me to answering your question: you are more than pretty enough to have sex with, but you�re much too young to sleep with a woman my age, never mind it being illegal.  When I was a little bit older than you are now, I kinda did the same thing, propositioning an older lady in my neighborhood.  She didn�t hurt me physically, but she messed up my mind for a long time.  I would never do that to you, no matter how much I would enjoy it.�

�I think I understand.�

�Sarah, I�m flattered that you are attracted to me.  I wish things were different, but please, don�t be jealous of your mother.�

She looked at me with her big, beautiful eyes and said, �Can you do me one favor then?  Can you kiss me like you kissed my mom?  Just once?�

We both sort of glanced around to see if anyone was watching before bringing our lips together.  I held nothing back and she didn�t either.  My tongue led the way, and she followed my lead perfectly.  When her hand snaked up to cup one of my breasts, I didn�t stop her.  By the time our lips parted, she was panting.

Silent for a few minutes, finally she said, �Thank you, Darcy.  I�ll try not be jealous of my mom.  I think I love you, but I hope you and Mom are happy.  She is, you know?  Happy.  I see it in her eyes.  She�s happy again.�  Then, with a shy smile on her face, she added, �Like, if you change your mind about me, I�ll let you.  I wouldn�t tell.�

I gave her a hug.

My headache was back, and my vision was especially gray and fuzzy around the edges, but I tried not to let on to Sarah that anything was wrong as she helped me pack up.  I walked with her back to her house.  Unfortunately, that�s when I ran into Ted outside.

�What�s going on between you and my wife?� he practically shouted.

Sarah stepped in front of him, saying �Dad!� probably gauging his anger, knowing her father better than I did.

That wasn�t a good sign.

�What�s your problem?� I answered.   �We�re good friends.  I work for her.  End of story,�

�That�s not the end of any story.  My kids say you two kissed on the beach.�

I glanced at a stricken Sarah, who shook her head vehemently.  She hadn�t told him, so it must have been Nathan.  �Two good friends can�t kiss?�  I was ready for battle, so I added, �When�s the last time YOU kissed her like I did?�

�That�s none of your business.  Now get away from my house.�

As I was leaving, I took one more shot.  �Don�t you hurt her.  She deserves much better than the likes of you.�

I wondered where Bev was through all of this, so I went to the shop after I dropped off my painting equipment.  The door was unlocked though the �OPEN� sign still wasn�t turned outward.  I walked in to find her crying.  When she saw me she ran over, pulled me into her arms and kissed me. 

�I hate him!� she sobbed.  �For all his chasing bimbos, the asshole never could fathom that I�d want passion; that I�d want to be loved.  I love you!�  More kisses.

I couldn�t tell her that I could barely see her.  We locked the door and found a small, carpeted area in the back storeroom, where we undressed and made love.  After every glorious orgasm, she told me how she should leave Ted and move in with me.  When we arose and I promptly walked into a storage rack, she knew my vision had deteriorated badly.

�Why didn�t you tell me?  Now I know I�ll move out of that house.  I�ll take care of you, Darcy.�

�I love you more than I could ever show, but I don�t want you to abandon those kids of yours when they need you the most.  And I don�t want a caretaker.  I don�t want pity.  I despise your husband for screwing up your marriage, but I�d hate myself as much if I were the home wrecker.  Go home to your kids.  Love them, not me.�

We cried together for the longest time.  I told her I was going to move back to the city as soon as my vision cleared enough for me to drive safely.  She paid me what she owed, then gave me a charm necklace engraved I LOVE YOU from her store�s stock.  �I can�t change your mind?� she asked although I saw she was already resigned to the inevitable.  I asked her to say goodbye to her kids, especially Sarah.

�Deep down inside you must know why she�s fixated on me,� I said.  Bev nodded.  �I know you�re not like my mother, but please don�t discourage her�her sexuality.  She has to find her own way in this cruel world, and after speaking with her I know she�s strong enough to survive.� 

Beverly told me she understood and promised to be open with Sarah throughout the treacherous teenage years.  We agreed to stay in touch.  I knew that even if we ran into each other, I�d never see her again.

 

When Neal Morse wrote the song �The Healing Colors of Sound,� he wasn�t thinking of people like me, but the idea still resonated every time I played the Spock�s Beard CD.  I was listening to Day for Night on the first day I could safely drive back to the city, thinking how with colors gone, and soon my vision, the colors of the world would only be in my memory.  Cherished memories, like Bev.  With the freedom of driving soon to be lost, I had to be in the big city to get around.  As the CD played and Neal sang, I reflected on what the therapist told me.  Since medicine offered no hope, I needed to learn to magnify my remaining senses, perhaps to be healed by the colors of sound, like the sound of Bev's sweet voice.

I�d felt alone most of my life, and that�s what scared me more than blindness.  Holding the necklace's charm in my hand, I whispered, �I love you, Bev...be safe,� lost in the music.

 

Donna M.

 

© 2012

 

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