We walk silently through the wide hallways, making our way to the stairs. She takes the first step down to the kitchen and outstretches her hand to me. I take it, stepping cautiously on the tile. A wave of dizziness washes over me and Marie wraps her arm around my waist and takes me to the barstool. The barstool where just hours ago I bounced in Owens lap, his lips all over my eager body. Not knowing what was going on with Kyra made the memory feel dark. Marie snaps me out of my own mind, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards me.
“Mr. Owen wants you to eat and take these.”
She pushes two brown pain relievers to me and I scoop them up and pop them in my mouth, eager for the pounding in my head to dissipate. I sip my coffee, the caffeine coursing through my veins and relieving some of the pressure from my head. Marie hums and whistles as she scrambles eggs, fries up thick slices of bacon and pulls a rack of fresh blueberry muffins from the convection oven. I can’t see the French doors that lead outside from here, but I know if I creep into the den, I’ll be able to see them, if they’re near the pool. I want to see, to see if I can get a read on Kyra’s face, but I know I must give them privacy. Though I don’t know it personally, I do know that a good relationship between a parent and child is like this- conversation doesn’t end until both parties are satisfied. It warms me thinking of how caring Owen is. Marie sets a plate of food in front of me and though my nerves are tied up in my stomach, anxious, the fates of my most important relationships hanging in the balance-I still want to eat. That’s the thing, after you’ve been hungry, the last thing you want to be in hungry. It’s engrained into me to eat when I can.
Marie surprises me when she sidles up next to me, her hands wrapped around a large mug full of coffee. In between bites, I look over at her and she smiles.
“It will be okay,” she whispers.
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re the first and only woman he’s loved since her.”
“Kyra’s mom?” my voice is so tiny; I feel I do not have the privilege to speak of her in this house.
“Yes,” she nods, sipping her coffee, the steam fogging up her glasses. “Kyra may take time to get used to it all. But she will be okay with it. She will accept it. Who doesn’t accept love?” she smiles again and I find reassurance in her words. How sure she is that we will all just be ok. I sigh and take my final bite of the creamy eggs.
“How do you make them so creamy?” I ask, dying to know and to change the subject.
She motions me to her with her pointer finger and I lean in, turning my head so my ear faces her mouth.
“Butter.”
She laughs wildly at this, as if she’s told a joke, and only stifles her laugh when she sees the confusion on my face.
“Sweet girl, it is a joke because, you know, butter is the key ingredient in everything.”
I shrug my shoulders at her.
“I don’t know how to cook,” I say, peeling the paper from the muffin and taking a massive bite.
“I can teach you; I will teach you,” she says, “because there will be a time when my old feet don’t want to hold me up anymore, and you will have to run this house if Mr. Owen doesn’t find someone else.” She leans in, “though there’s only one me.” I laugh and she smiles.
I would love to know how to cook. And bake. And clean. Then I realize what she’s said. I will be running this house. I look around me, realizing I’ve not even seen the entire house. Yet, I’ll be living here. It’s all happening so fast but I close my eyes and Owen’s face flashes in my mind, smiling, and I can nearly feel his lips running down my neck, following my belly, pressing into that spot that drives me wild.
I am exquisite, he has said, he will not change his mind, he has promised, I am his, he has filled me with himself. My happiness is creeping in and right then, Owen and Kyra are coming in from outside.
“How long have they been out there?” I whisper to Marie, frantically, not knowing what time it was when I fell, or what time it is now.
“Two hours,” she mouths to me, turning around as the two of them enter the kitchen. I turn around on the barstool and stand, perhaps too fast as I immediately sink back into the seat.
I make sure to look at Kyra first. To show her that she is my first concern. Yes, I love Owen, but I love Kyra too, in a different but equally important way. I cannot get a read on her face. Her cheeks are puffy and red, swollen from crying. Her eyes are bloodshot and there is no longer any traces of mascara on her anywhere. I look over to Owen, my handsome, strong, sexually dexterous Owen. He nods at me and I realize I don’t know what the nod means. Is it all okay? I’m so flustered that I can’t decipher it but I can’t wait a moment longer.
“Kyra,” I sob, leaping forward, wrapping my arms around her. I squeeze her tightly and while she doesn’t return my hug, she nestles her head into my hair and sighs.
I pull back from the embrace and stare into her eyes.
I can feel the shift. This is the moment.
When I entered the house, my bond was with her. And now my secrets, my feelings, the deepest parts of me-I share those with him. My allegiance has shifted. Sadness settles into me as I imagine how Kyra must feel. But I will stay her best friend if she lets me.
“Please, please, please forgive me,” I am sobbing now and I look at Owen who reaches for me but I hold my hand out, telling him to halt. No, we must work this out. He mustn’t touch me until I am right with Kyra. She needs to know that I need her, as much as I need him. And I do.
“You have to know, Kyra, that I never wanted to hurt you. I, I…” my voice trails off and my mind grows busy with thoughts. It occurs to me now that the right thing to do is tell the truth. Speak my truth, as I’m sure that’s what Owen has done outside, and I trust that we are on the same page.
“Please sit here, please.”
She still does not speak but she sits on the barstool. I am desperate to show her that her heartbreak is my heartache. I drop in front of her, on my knees, graciously accepting her angry gazes as I proceed to spill my guts, to try and right this wrong.
“Two years ago, your Dad,” I choke on the words a little and clear my throat before continuing. “He called you and you left your cell at the dorm. And I answered, do you remember?”
Her head rattles quickly back and forth, her expression changing into annoyance and confusion.
“Okay, it’s okay, it doesn’t matter if you can’t remember. He called and… I don’t know, I liked his voice? I felt…” I can feel sweat form on the small of my back.
Just tell her already. Owen’s clearly already spoken with her at length. My inner voice is there, telling me what I already know.
“I felt his voice here,” I pressed my hand low to my belly, “and I know you don’t want to hear that, and there’s going to be far more of stuff you won’t want to hear very soon. But I want to be utterly and completely honest with you. No lies.”
I see out of the corner of my eye that Owen has now walked up to the opposite side of the island as Kyra and I, and he is standing, silent, watching me. I start again.
“Kyra, I went eighteen years pretty much alone. My mom filtered in and out as she needed but I mean, I was alone. Christmas, Easter, field trips, parent teacher conference-she was never there. And you know, I’m from a really small town. The women hated my mother. So, they hated me. And I didn’t have a friend until I met you. And you were so accepting and kind. And you became not just my first real friend but my best friend. And you still are. But that night, when I heard his voice, that feeling in my belly, it, it, it just grabbed a hold of me. And no, I don’t have past experience but just because I haven’t had a boyfriend doesn’t mean I haven’t had the opportunity to spark with someone. All of my mom’s boyfriends and boyfriends’ friends were constantly around, lifting my hem at the diner, touching my arm, and you know, nothing. Every guy from school, the note guy! The guy who borrows my notes! See? I can’t even remember his name and I’ve known him for an entire year!” I think I may have screamed that last sentence, as I’m panting heavily now but no, I must keep going.
She has to know that I didn’t just fuck her Dad and jeopardize our friendship for fun.
No, this is not fun at all. It’s the riskiest thing I’ve experienced. And I’m at risk for losing everything; my best friend and the man I love.
“I just, I just, I can’t explain it. And it’s so… powerful… what I felt when I just… heard his voice. I wouldn’t want to explain it.”
Oh no, my eyes are filling with tears. I knew this may happen. I wipe them away as quick as they appear and dig deep to continue. Owen’s eyes blazing hard on my cheek, Kyra’s burning down on me from the stool.
“It’s too personal. That feeling that night in the dorm, I mean, I freaking Googled him and read his Wikipedia after! And then I tried, you know, to put it out of my mind because I hadn’t even met him. Never seen him. And those weren’t even my primary thoughts, Kyra! All I could think is that, you know, this glorious and profound pleasure inside me was meaningless because he was, you know, your Father.”
Her face looks less cold now, though she has a ripple between her eyebrows and I’m unable to read this new expression. A curl dances down over her eyes and she bats it away. Quickly and uncomfortably, I look over at Owen. His dark eyes are wide, his mouth is slightly agape and he is as still as calm water. I turn back to Kyra and continue. I need to finish this because my head is suddenly throbbing violently and I’m starting to feel quite dizzy.
“But even without knowing his physical shape, without knowing you know, the important things like is he a Republican? Does he like books? Does he throw garbage out the window? How does he treat service people? You know, the stuff you just have to know about someone. But without knowing any of that I just felt this part of me just knew that… I don’t know,” I shake my head and push my body from the tile, rising to my feet. “I guess I just knew he was my life.”
I step to her and she doesn’t rise or try to flee. And as I get closer to her, I see her eyes are filled with tears. I don’t know if they’re angry or annoyed tears but I’m really hoping they aren’t either.
“We came here, and when we did, I told myself that I was going to just, you know, go out and meet someone. And put this whole thing behind me. But-and here’s some stuff you’re not going to want to hear-your Dad is incredibly handsome, and he’s smart and funny and, I’m sorry for this but, he’s got an amazing body. He’s exquisite. And after I spent a day around him I just, I felt like if I didn’t do something about it, I could be walking away from my life. And I didn’t want to lose you. I knew what I was risking, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get out of this. But, well, I knew what I was risking.”
I shake my head, feeling quite dizzy now, Kyra nearly splitting into two in front of my very eyes.
“I love you, Kyra, and I will always be your best friend if you let me. But I love him. And it only became something on Friday, I promise you there was nothing physical, nothing of any sort until Friday. But you know, for me, it’s been two years. And this last month has just been… everything. It’s been everything.”
And the last word I speak leaves my chest hollow and empty and darkness grabs hold of me and runs away.