A Strange Arrangement Ch. 07

I straightened up and looked at her in shock. Taking that as a yes, she smiled and went on. "A gorgeous thing like you probably has no trouble finding a guy, but its finding the good ones that takes work. But honey, even the best ones aren't good all the time." Who was this woman?

I smiled half-heartedly and tried to thank her and move on. She tightened her grip and pulled me in. "I've seen my fair share of good times and bad, so you listen to me: Don't expect him to be perfect, because you aren't either. It's always going to be give and get. Sometimes you give, sometimes you get. So you go home tonight and give him the ride of his life, whether you want to or not. Then you talk about what's bothering you." Her eyes sparkled and she patted my arm. I mumbled my thanks and walked briskly back to the kitchen.

Later that evening, when she was leaving, she passed by the table where I was taking orders. She put her hand gently on my arm and said, "Give and get, honey. Give and get." It might have been the best tip I got that night.

*******

I was glad to know that Andrew was working until 2am, so I didn't need to worry about dealing with him yet. I still wanted time to sort out my anger, my fear, my pain, and my confusion. I needed answers to questions I still hadn't yet formed.

As reluctant as I was to admit it, Andrew and my arrangement was not just business. It was a relationship. Unfortunately, it was a relationship in uncharted waters- unprecedented- no model to build off of. The nearest thing I could think of was...marriage. It was like a marriage with very traditional gender roles (oh, how my Gender Studies professor would be fuming!). So was "give-and-get" lady's advice actually what I needed to hear?

Andrew was giving a lot- virtually all my necessities were covered. Thanks to that, I was out of debt and even saving a bit. And I gave, too, though my giving was less tangible. We had each agreed beforehand that what we would get was worth what we would give. So sometimes I need to flip up my skirt in the kitchen and give. Hell, even in sex with Andrew I had finally let myself "get" every now and then.

My train of thought was derailed when I pulled into the driveway. Andrew's car was still there. I had expected him to work all night. I tried to be silent as I entered the house and walked to my room. I paused in the hallway. Go home tonight and give him the ride of his life, whether you want to or not. I wasn't ready for that yet. There were still too many questions, too much gray. I slipped into my room and changed for bed.

It was no surprise, however, that I heard a knock, just as I was slipping out of my bra. I pulled a t-shirt over my head and said, "come in."

Andrew stepped softly into my room, looked me in the eyes and said, "I took off work for tonight."

"And you want..."

"Yes," he stated flatly.

The old lady's voice reasserted itself in my head, Whether you want to or not, honey. It's time to give.

I pulled the shirt back off, crawled onto the bed and lay on my back. Putting my hips in the air, I slipped off my yoga pants and looked expectantly at him. He was just finishing disrobing himself and was joining me in the bed. "Could you be on top?" he asked emotionlessly.

I wanted to say, Why? So you can maintain the illusion that I'm into this? But I bit my tongue and moved over to him, straddling his waist.

It was simple and efficient. I tried getting more into it, but my mind was too cluttered and noisy, and Andrew seemed disinclined to help. Aside from even a few thrusts at the end, he barely moved. Afterwards, he was still and quiet on my bed, eyes closed, breathing slow. I was sitting at the foot of my own bed, waiting for him to get up. I thought he was drifting off and was about to ask him to leave, when he startled me with a question.

"Gina, do you really use sex to keep you from...you, know...to drown out the emotions?"

I was embarrassed by the question and the memories of some of our past encounters that it evoked. "Yeah, it distracts me, I guess. Otherwise my mind just fills up and races and starts pulling all sorts of junk to the surface. If I can focus on something physical, something tangible...it's easier to turn off that noise. It's the same reason some people overeat, get addicted to video games, or get drunk, I think." I moved over to my recliner and pulled a long t-shirt over my head. No sense baring my soul and my boobs at the same time.

"That's just so weird. It's the opposite for me. I need sex to help me feel. I get numb. Or maybe it's not even numb- it's just a shit-cloud over my head. Sex replaces some of that darkness with something hopeful and happy, even if it's just for a few minutes."

We sat in silence for a while.

"Gina...this week...it's just a hard week for me." I knew what he was talking about, but I couldn't let on what I knew or how I knew it. I felt a human instinct to comfort him, but I also felt a strong self-preservation instinct to keep as many walls as possible between us.

He went on, "I just don't know what to do to keep from losing my mind, and feeling close to you- even if it's just physically close sometimes- it makes a big difference."

I curled my legs up under me and felt too exposed. Reaching for a soft throw-blanket, I put it over my legs.

"Well," I said softly, looking out the window, "I guess you can keep that in mind the next time I want to renegotiate my contract." I was a poor attempt at humor, but it was all I could manage. He didn't respond. I stared at the stars out my window and waited for a response that never came.

That word- "sometimes"- really worried me. It's just physically close...sometimes. That wall wasn't as secure as I wanted it to be. I didn't like thinking that for him it was sometimes more than physical. Control was slipping away from me. I was OK being a conduit for his physical needs- a pathway for, and sometimes a partner in sexual satisfaction. That kind of "give-and-get" was manageable.

But to hear that he looked to me to sustain his happiness, to fight away the darkness- that unnerved me. I didn't sign up for that. I didn't have it in me to be that person.

I tried to imagine a world where Andrew and I had met under different circumstances. We wouldn't have been anything, even if there was no ring on his finger (I'd made that mistake before). I wasn't the type of woman he wanted, and he wasn't the kind of man I ended up with. We were only in this arrangement because he wanted something I could provide. And now he was saying that he was expecting something else, something I couldn't be, something I shouldn't be.

I had my own shit-cloud over my head- one that had been chasing me for 11 years. Andrew wanted and needed someone better than that- someone who could bring sunshine to his world. I could only offer that a few minutes a day, and my version of sunlight was a poor imitation.

I closed my eyes and tried not to remember things.

*******

I felt myself being lifted, blanket and all- strong arms making me safe. Then I was gently placed on my bed, and I felt my quilt being pulled over me. I was content. I saw a shape walk over to my recliner and sit down. Ian?

*******

In my dream I was happy. There was light and a yard. I heard laughter in the background. Ian was home from school, Mom and Dad were teasing each other, I felt as light as air. I walked out the front door to play, but I wasn't a little girl anymore. I was grown up now, but still just as happy. I chased Ian through the yard, playing a game with no rules. He gently tackled me to the ground and we rolled together, his arms wrapped around me. Landing on my back with him on top, I looked up to see...Andrew. I reached my mouth up to kiss, my heart swelling swelling with joy. He held me in his strong arms, we kissed and rolled and laughed. I felt warmth between my legs and I started rubbing against him...

*******

Dreams faded into wakefulness, and I realized that the warmth was from a tongue working at my entrance. I was instinctively pushing against his face. No. I couldn't do this.

I pushed his head away and sat up. "No, Andrew, no." In marriage you can always say 'no.'

He moved back towards me and said, "Yes, Gina. Think of it as being for me, I want this." I'd heard that before from him. If it's for him, I have to say yes, according to our arrangement.

"I don't," I said, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

"Gina, you have to. You..."

"No, I don't," I insisted. So it was happening. I was finally at my limit and we would see where the pieces fell. We never talked about a maximum limit to the number of times I had to indulge him each week, but surely I had done enough to earn my room! I stormed through my room, holding back angry tears. I put on my work clothes and braced for a response.

"Don't do this Gina, not today." Shit. It was Wednesday. Noel had died 3 years ago, though he didn't know that I had found that out. The problem was that after last night, I couldn't let myself become his emotional crutch. I couldn't be that lifeline he was grasping about to find. I couldn't let him start to think he loved me. I snapped.

"I'M...NOT...HER!"

I had meant it one way, but he took it another. He looked down at his ring, mouth open in shock, and yelled back, "Damn right you're not. I just want you to be you!"

"That's not what I meant," I started huffing. "You want me to be a kind of woman that I...can't...be. You need something I can't give you. You need a woman in your life, but I'm not her, Andrew. I can't be. You'll just be disappointed if you keep trying."

He paused to take that in, then answered in a softer tone, "Gina, please. I...let's just step back. You want to bury some things and I want to get away from some things. This can work- we can help each other. You've already been more than I could have asked for. Please, just...right now, let's just...step back, and..."

"We need to step way, way back, Andrew, like back to day one. We have uncomplicated sex in exchange for this room- that's what this needs to get back to. And I don't have time for that right now." I knew I still had hours before my shift started, but I needed to be out.

"Gina, don't," he warned, looking...angry? Sad? Desperate? It was hard to tell. What would he do? Give me the silent treatment?

I left.

*******

It was only just 9am when I got to the coffee shop down the road. I was surprised at first to see Angelica working the morning shift, but then I realized her schedule was probably a lot like mine- all over the place. She was busy and didn't notice me at first, which suited me fine. But I did plan to talk to her that day, after I had some time to think.

Why did I say no? I wanted to believe that I was putting my foot down and asserting myself. I was forcing a discussion about how often I would allow him fuck me. I was renegotiating our contract.

But I knew that was all bluster and self-deception. Truth is, I was terrified. He was projecting some emotions onto our relationships, whether feelings for Penny or some longing to move on. And I couldn't handle that. Why couldn't I handle that? Why couldn't I let him be some love-sick puppy who got to have sex with me? What did it matter how he felt- it didn't change things, did it?

My thoughts were interrupted by Angelica picking up some dirty mugs at a nearby table. "Soooo, any juicy tidbits for me today?"

I looked up and forced a smile. "No change really."

"Hey, do you think he's gay? I hadn't thought of that, before, given the way he stares at Tabby's boobs, but maybe..."

"No. Definitely into girls. And I've got an idea."

She looked at me and smiled. "Let me take these back and go on break. I'll be right back."

Sure enough, she was back in 30 seconds, eager to listen. I told her my plan. Since it offered the chance to get Andrew on a date, she was on board. At the very least it opened the door for her to ask some direct questions and see what he said. And I hoped it would shake things up at home, maybe take some of the emotional heat off of me.

Angelica went back to work, giving me her number and kissing me on the forehead like a good friend would. Before walking away she whispered, "Next time we need to talk about where those tear stains came from." I self-consciously wiped my cheeks with a napkin. I missed having close friends. After college we all spread out, and I didn't have the energy or money to build new relationships while scratching out a living this year. But things would change- they were bound to.

*******

Since I had an afternoon shift, I didn't have to stay too long at the coffee shop. Getting into work calmed me. There was even a super cute new server- Tristan- who provided some welcome distraction for me. He was really just eye candy- I didn't care much for his personality, which had seemed to have atrophied from lack of use. His presence was a welcome distraction that afternoon. He was obviously a player, and I wasn't usually into that type, but what the hell. Anything was better than thinking about Andrew right now.

But as far as my arrangement with Andrew was concerned, as the day progressed, I felt more and more optimistic. I would go home (when did I start calling it that?) after work, he would get back in the middle of the night, I would go to his room and try the old lady's advice: Give him the ride of his life...then talk about what's bothering you. I shuddered and laughed out loud when an uninvited image sprang to mind- an image of that ancient lady giving some shriveled old man the ride of his life. I was sure Andrew would appreciate my token initiative, a peace offering. And if he was awake enough to talk, we could set a ceiling on how often he could demand my time. He was a genuinely nice guy, he could be reasonable. And with Noel on his mind, maybe he'd be a little more pliable, too.

I must have still had a smile from my thoughts of geriatric whoopee, because Tristan passed me at the drink station and teased, "Well aren't you just a happy little firecracker." I walked away with a tray of drinks, swinging my hips just a little and smiled back at him, "Be careful, boy, firecrackers will burn you if you handle them the wrong way!" Yes, I smiled to myself, this would work out just fine.

*******

I got home to find out how wrong I was. I pulled into the driveway around 630 that evening and saw my recliner in the driveway. Along with it were my suitcases and some cardboard boxes- all my stuff. Shit.

I got out of my car in disbelief and walked up to the pile of stuff. Taped to the top of my recliner (and if it had been raining on my precious recliner, so help me I would have torched his house!) was a piece of paper that simply read: Terminated for breach of contract. I crumbled up the paper and shoved it in my pocket.

I walked up to the door and found, as I suspected, that the locks had already been changed. That...bastard. I'm sure he expected a desperate phone call from me that night. Well, I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. There was one thing I bet he hadn't thought of...

Because Andrew was under the illusion that I was an experienced cook, I tried to do my cooking when he wasn't home. I often burned things. The kitchen window got opened a lot- I didn't want him to smell anything suspicious when he got home. I knew it was dangerous, but I usually forgot to lock the window, which was right next to the front door. I pulled off the screen, found a place to lift, and...voila!

I climbed in ungracefully, unlocked the door and pulled my bags and boxes in. I double checked the weather forecast to make sure it was OK to leave my recliner in the driveway. No problem- cold but clear the rest of the week. After moving my things back up to my room, I went back to my car and drove it around the corner, parking it in the driveway of a house that was perpetually "For Sale." I walked back to the house, replaced the kitchen window screen, locked the door and had dinner. I was careful to erase any trace of my presence before going to bed. I showered and slipped on a flannel nightgown. I was glad the door to my room had been shut when I arrived- that way it wouldn't look suspicious for it to be shut when Andrew got home.

I wanted to sit in my recliner and stare at the stars while I processed things. Instead, I sat in bed, sipping hot tea and thinking. I had told Andrew we should go back to day one- sex for a room. I said no to sex, so he said no to a room. It was a little childish, I thought. But he also didn't know how much I was hurting this morning and all the things that were scaring me. Monsters I can handle, intimacy terrifies me.

The grief counselor had warned me about this a long time ago. Ian was my idol, my hero, my defender, my role model. He made me believe that men were wonderful and safe and caring, I wanted to find a guy like him when I grew up. He was the best big brother a girl could have. Nobody even knew who was driving the car he was in the night he died- all three guys were thrown from the car, none of them had worn seat belts- idiots. They weren't drunk- they were on their way to an early morning swim practice. Some sleepy driver crossed the median and knocked them clear off the road.

It was like all light had been extinguished from my world. My parents couldn't help- they were in their own darkness, one they never really shook off. The counselor told me that it would be hard to want to be close to someone again. To have your heart ripped out like that makes you never want to put it out there again. But now, I think just being close to people was hard for me, and I was so scared that Andrew was getting close to me, even if it was in a twisted way. I was afraid because if he got close, then I might want to get close, and I couldn't do that.

Sometime after 10pm my phone buzzed- I grabbed it so fast that I realized how anxious I was.

Hey, it's Tristan, I got your number from the schedule. Want to show me the right way to handle a firecracker?

Dear God, that was so cheesy. I let it sit- no need to respond yet.

*******

I woke up Thursday morning when the sun reached my eyes. I looked out the window down to the driveway- Andrew's car was there. He would probably sleep late- I knew he didn't need to work until noon that day. I tiptoed downstairs and fixed the quietest breakfast I could- a bowl of cereal and a banana. Then I went upstairs and pulled out something I hadn't used in a long time- a sexy, lacy, shiny red lingerie set. Give him the ride of his life...

I got all dressed up, put my nightgown back on (it was still chilly- Andrew didn't run the heat very high), and sat for a few minutes. Did I really want to do this? Was it demeaning? I finally decided that it was just being smart- I would ensure my continued living arrangements and put myself in a good position to bargain for a reasonable limit on our weekly sex sessions.

Deep breath in, big sigh out, and then off to his room. I put my ear up to his door- silence. It was almost 9, he'd probably been asleep 6 hours, that was plenty for him. I opened the door as quietly as I could, inching it open far enough to peek inside. He was asleep, I think, on his back, one arm draped over his face.

I slipped inside the room, walked to the side of the bed and slipped under the covers. I assumed I had gone unnoticed, because Andrew didn't stir. Moving my face down to his crotch, I took his soft member all the way into my mouth. I started gently sucking, rolling my tongue around slowly. I felt an instant reaction as blood flowed into his cock and warmed it up. As he got hard, I started slowly bobbing up and down, keeping a steady motion, going from the tip all the way down as far as I could. I still hadn't started using my hands- I was a little worried they would be too cold on his skin.