Cecilia Scott - Him

I was ripe for HIM.

I was 33 years old and had lived in the same duplex since I moved out of my mother’s house when I started college, fifteen years before. My landlord, Sam, lived next door. He and I stood by one another through our loved ones’ illnesses and eventual passings.

Sam’s wife got sick first. He and I more or less nursed her those last two years of her life. Then it was my mother who battled the same disease, only to die from it several years later. Breast cancer shows no mercy.

Then my landlord’s vision worsened. He’d retired from his job as a civil engineer. He didn’t want to drive back and forth to work. He could barely see. I spent more and more time taking care of him. I began helping him manage the apartment buildings he’d bought nearby. We’d interview prospective tenants together. I’d help him with minor repairs in the buildings. I drove him to get his groceries several times a week and baked him pies using fruit from the trees in the backyard. In turn, Sam stopped charging me rent. We were an odd family but it worked for us. Eventually he became the father I never had.

This was my backstory. I never thought of myself as unhappy, but my night with HIM had confused me profoundly. I mean, I hadn’t felt alone until I met HIM.

I didn’t hear from HIM for several days, though it felt like a couple of weeks, but he made contact on a Friday. I’d left college early and returned, wearily, to my duplex. Sat down on the sofa and listened to the rain beating on my roof. I lit a fire and watched the logs burn before falling asleep on the couch.

The vibration of the phone woke me. It was HIM.

HIM: Can I come up, now?

ME: Where r u?

HIM: @ my downtown office. Just finishing up.

ME: It’s raining.

HIM: Don’t be silly. I can be there in no time.

ME: Fantastic!

I began the ritual of getting ready for a man. I took a long bath and reapplied my make-up. I found a black lace negligée. It fit my body perfectly. I took to my bed, waiting for HIM, occasionally fingering myself in anticipation. I was wet for HIM already.

About an hour later he was at my door.

I let HIM in.

He embraced me.

‘It would be heaven to wake up to you every morning,’ he whispered in my ear.

I gasped. What an amazing promise. It was a beautiful fantasy.

I could already imagine being in bed with HIM each morning. We’d live in a pretty little seaside cottage. It would be a sweet little place. We’d be able to feel a soft sea breeze upon our skin when the bedroom window was left open in the summer months. What better place to make love to this beautiful man?

I knew his promise was premature. But it didn’t matter. Already I was repeating it in my head. He wanted to wake up to me every morning. He wanted to wake up to me. He wanted …

I took HIM to my sofa. We sat there for hours. He explored my body with his hands. He stopped for a moment, looking into my eyes.

We began to kiss again. He slowly removed my negligee. I sat naked in front of HIM. He liked my being naked while he was still dressed. It turned HIM on.

He devoured my breasts with his mouth, sucking on my nipples until I moaned with equal pleasure and pain.

‘I love your breasts,’ he said, cupping them. ‘I could get down on my hands and knees to worship them.’ And he did just that: he fell to his knees and buried his face in my chest.

I felt honoured.

‘I love this,’ he whispered. ‘I love it. I could stay like this for ever.’

‘I want you inside me,’ I pleaded. ‘Please.’

I took HIM into my bedroom. I lay on the bed and watched HIM undress. As he walked towards me, I was transfixed by his erection.

He fucked me thoroughly, over and over, in so many different positions. I’d never felt so womanly before. What was there to say? Being with HIM was exhilarating. I couldn’t get enough of HIM. He seemed to feel the same way.

He left a few hours later after telling me that his son needed to be at football practice early the next day.

I would see HIM again soon.

We shall find peace. We shall hear the angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.

Anton Chekhov, Uncle Vanya

This is what I understood: before I met HIM I’d been walking blind. But now my eyes were wide open. All my senses were amplified. It was a brave new world I’d entered and I wasn’t sure how to navigate it. It felt overwhelming.

I could not stop crying.

But it didn’t matter. I would’ve sojourned here anyway.

This was what I knew: I gave HIM my body. He made love to it, fucked it, slapped it, bit it and spanked it. In turn he gave me oblivion in pleasure.

I didn’t feel that I’d ever had a choice. And until I entered his world I couldn’t have possibly known I would feel this way.

* * *

The next morning I was scheduled to help my landlord Sam with the maintenance of one of his apartment buildings. I met him out in the front of our duplex at 10 a.m. I unlocked the doors of my car, Sam walked round to the passenger side and I slipped into the driver’s seat. We put on our seatbelts. I looked at him.

‘Grandview?’ I asked.

‘Grandview,’ he echoed, chuckling.

Even after all the years of living next to one another and my helping to take care of his apartment buildings, we could never say the name of this one without laughing. The Grandview Apartments actually faced a row of warehouses.

‘The drunk in 201 finally moved out,’ he told me.

‘Always fun going in after someone like that leaves. God only knows what you’ll find,’ I said, heading south towards the Grandview.

‘Apartment 111 says the sink is leaking.’

‘Piece of cake. The pipe needs a new washer,’ I said.

‘You’re good,’ Sam said.

‘I learned everything I know from you.’

‘The lady in 203 called last night to say the lightbulb in her bathroom ceiling fixture needs to be changed,’ he said.

‘What time did she call you anyway?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe around three in the morning.’

‘That lady is out of her mind. Besides, it isn’t your responsibility to change her lightbulbs.’

‘She’s older than I am. I feel sorry for her.’

‘Maybe she’s after you.’

We both laughed. The tenant in 203 was too old and too frail to have any romantic thoughts towards him or anyone.

‘Do you ever consider remarrying?’ I asked him.

‘Well, obviously I’m not gonna marry the lady in 203. But no, I don’t think about getting married again. I liked being married to the Mrs. But when she died, I never once thought about it. It would be hard to go through all the motions of sharing my life with someone again.’

‘I felt like I was married to Jake,’ I said.

‘I know. You were married in your own fashion. What about your new guy?’

‘New guy?’ I played innocent.

‘Oh, c’mon. I saw him get out of his car a couple nights ago,’ Sam said.

‘Well, it’s way too soon to call,’ I said. ‘Needless to say he claims his ex-wife is evil.’

‘That’s too bad,’ said Sam. ‘Usually if there are unresolved feelings from the divorce, they get carried over into the next relationship.’

‘God, I hope not.’

‘Just be cautious.’

‘Yes, Dad.’

‘Well, how about you just enjoy the ride for now? Just enjoy yourself.’

‘Thanks.’

Sam and I spent several hours at the apartment complex. I kept my phone on, hoping for a text from HIM. But I did not hear back from HIM that day.

* * *

Time passed. He never got in touch.

It was hard to concentrate and I was useless at work. I closed my eyes during breaks from my classes, sitting at my desk recalling each moment with HIM. It was strange having erotic thoughts while waiting for my students. The bungalow where I taught my classes at the college was so utterly depressing. The buildings had been installed there in the 60s. They were supposed to be temporary, but somehow they’d remained. They looked like army barracks. There was a row of windows looking out at yet another bungalow. The students’ desks were old and covered with graffiti. I despised my job and hated it even more because all I really wanted to do was to be with HIM again. It was the only thing that now made sense. The only thing.