Ah we’re drinking and we’re dancing
and the band is really happening
and the Johnny Walker wisdom running high
And my very sweet companion
she’s the Angel of Compassion
she’s rubbing half the world against her thigh
And every drinker every dancer
lifts a happy face to thank her…
© 1992 Leonard Cohen
Part 2
Sometimes silence is more expressive than any words. The emptiness it creates can be more meaningful than any poem. Kevin, Caroline, and I sat next to each other on the couch, occasionally wiping an eye, blowing a nose. Our wordless communication was comforting.
“You know, your mother was right about one thing. It wasn’t appropriate to bring you to that club, to expose you to her behavior. It’s something I should have kept strictly between her and me.”
“But it wasn’t just between the two of you. She lied to all of us. And besides which, I’m the one who told you about it.” Kevin nestled his head deeper into my arm.
“She missed my play,” Caroline hissed. “Whatever it was she was doing was more important to her than her daughter.”
I sighed.
“She thinks she’s so smart that she can trick us like that. I’m smarter than her. I proved it!”
“Kevin, you are the smartest, most perceptive person I know. I hope that doesn’t get you in too much trouble.”
Caroline grinned. “It sure got Mom in trouble.”
“Don’t ever tell anyone how, or she’ll figure out how to get around it. She’ll block our numbers, or keep her phone off. We won’t know when calls go straight to voicemail.”
I ruffled Kevin’s hair. “Only you would notice a second-long delay before a phone started ringing when a person was traveling. Only you would figure out that the system was searching for a phone outside of her home area. You definitely are the smartest person I know.”
Caroline reached over and gave her brother a gentle nuggie. “How did she sound when you called her at the bar?”
“Like my mother… but different. The first time she sounded puzzled. When I called right back she sounded angry. I heard her say “robocall” to someone just before she hung up. Thank goodness for star-sixty-seven, blocking caller ID.”
“What else did you hear?”
Kevin touched my arm to reassure me. “Laughter, talking, old people slow music.”
“Yeah.” I hugged both my kids.
“How could she lie like that, telling me the next day that she had gone to bed early that evening?”
“Thank goodness my children talk to each other and saw the discrepancy.”
“How did you know where to find her?”
“I got a text message from her date, thanking me. He seemed to think I was okay with it. Strange guy.” I tried to smile at them, and we lapsed back to silence.
Not for long.
“What’s the battle plan, Dad?”
“Battle plan? We’re not at war.”
“Mom’s at war with our family.”
“Caroline, Mom’s as much a part of our family as any of us.”
“What she did is going to destroy our family.”
How could I answer that? It was true. “That’s not her intention. She really thinks she’s helping us, that she’ll make us rich. She’s wrong. She’s going to destroy herself along with our family, I’m afraid.”
“Are we going to be poor? Would you like me to sell ads in your newsletter, so we can live without her salary?”
“It’s not that kind of newsletter. No ads, but paid subscribers. It’s a new business and it’s growing quickly. If your mother had bothered to ask, she’d realize that we have no problem with money.” I looked at my watch. “Kevin, it’s past your bedtime. Go on, scat.”
He stood up, took my hand, and looked me in the eye. “Will you be okay, Dad?”
“With a son like you, I’m always okay.”
He nodded and went upstairs. I made a note to myself to watch out for signs of him getting too arrogant about his brilliance. Caroline snuggled closer to me and shut her eyes. I focused mine on the blank TV screen in front of me. We both drifted towards sleep.
I was taking a chance by going out with the Firstens just a few days after the blow-out in The Hamptons parking lot. I knew that Arnold wouldn’t like it. I knew my kids wouldn’t understand. But the potential rewards were too great for me to give up now. I just hoped the drama outside the club didn’t set Albert back too far. When I first met him he could barely make eye contact with me. When we were last at The Hamptons, we danced with his hands on my ass, squeezing me against his erection. He was ready to take me, and I’d have probably succumbed again. I still couldn’t believe it happened the first time. I should be grateful that my family rescued, or should I say kidnapped me. How did I get myself into this mess? I wanted to enrich, not destroy my family.
Albert Firsten was somewhere on the spectrum; shy and socially inept. He’s a nice guy, good-looking, just very awkward. His father started bringing him into our business meetings, and by the third one, Albert was able to participate, occasionally saying “yes,” “no,” or shrugging his shoulders. Thomas upped the ante by scheduling our meetings to just before noon, then suggesting we go to a nearby restaurant. The restaurant meetings then became the norm, and Albert gradually became more talkative, addressing me as “Sarah” rather than “Mrs. Sanborn.”
I was surprised when one day Albert sat beside me in the booth, with Thomas opposite us. Albert’s hands were trembling. It was either nerves or perhaps frustration; his father had clearly directed him to sit next to me. It didn’t last. Albert excused himself to go to the washroom.
“He’s more comfortable with you than he’s ever been with a woman.”
I looked at Thomas in surprise. “Oh… that’s, well, nice.”
“He’s made a lot of progress recently. He’s more conversational. He interacts with people. He’s even learned to chat with text messages.”
“That’s good.”
“Sarah, he’s twenty-four years old. He’s never touched a woman. I need you to help him.”
“How? Should I start texting him? Sexting, maybe?” I smiled, presuming Thomas would understand the joke.
“Maybe. Be his friend. Let him get comfortable being with you, talking to you… touching you.”
“Touching?”
“Yes. Not sex, but a friendly touch on the arm, a pat on the cheek… Maybe go dancing together one evening.”
“I don’t know. Albert is a handsome young man, but I have a husband and two children. I’m thirty-six years old. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Again, no sex. Just get him comfortable around you, around your body.”
“My body…”
I had been focusing on Thomas and didn’t realize Albert had returned. He slid in beside me.
“What about your body, Sarah?”
I was flustered. “Do you, um… like it?”
Albert looked at my face, then down at my arms, checking out the protrusions on my chest. “I don’t know what your body looks like. Your clothes are nice. Your face is nice. Your… your breasts look big.” He turned red, while his father grinned.
I laughed at Albert’s embarrassment, and he turned even redder. I squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Albert. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You’re very nice looking.”
I decided to hold onto his hand until dessert arrived. I didn’t like the chocolate mousse I ordered, so I asked Albert if I could taste his. He slid his plate towards me.
His father stopped him. “Be a gentleman and feed her a piece of cake.”
“What did you say I should do?”
“You heard me, boy.”
I sighed. I didn’t like this idea but turned to face Albert with a forced smile on my face. When I saw the fear on his, my forced smile melted into a look of concern. “It’s okay, I like being fed by a handsome young man.” He was still trembling, so I touched his thigh. “It’s okay.” I handed him my fork.
He carefully, slowly, edged cake into my open mouth.
“Delicious!”
He grinned as if he had baked the cake himself.
“Can I have another bite?”
He nervously looked at his father.
I put my hand back on his thigh. “Please?”
I ended up eating the whole piece of cake. Albert was having a great time, occasionally glancing down at my hand near his knee. There was a mishap with the last bite, though. It slipped off the fork and onto my lap.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” He snatched it up, touching my skirt way above my knees. He looked like he was about to cry as he spotted the icing that remained on me.
I forced myself to smile. “Are you going to leave me like that?”
Thomas was curious. “What?”
I stood up to show him the icing smear.
“It looks like… well you know what it looks like. You can’t walk around like that.”
I looked down. Indeed, at first glance, it looked like cum. It was right at my crotch. “I’m going to the washroom to try to clean it off.”
“Go with her, boy. It’s your cake.”
I was appalled by what he invited his son to do. Albert followed me into the cramped washroom and locked the door behind him.
I tried to make the best of the situation. “How am I going to do this without making a bigger mess of my skirt?”
“I don’t know.” He tried to wipe it with his finger, which meant rubbing it against my crotch. It helped a little bit. I thought he would be embarrassed beyond belief to do this, but he wasn’t. Albert was totally focused on the problem at hand. “Let me try again,” he said.
“Albert, it’s not proper for you to be rubbing my crotch through the skirt.”
He shrugged. “Take it off, then. I don’t want to be improper.”
The absurdity of his statement disarmed me. I nodded and took it off. We bumped against each in the tiny bathroom. In the back of my mind, I was bothered that he didn’t seem to be aroused.
Albert wet his fingers and scrubbed furiously at the stain. When satisfied, he grabbed a paper towel and blotted it as best he could. There was no sign of the icing.
“Thank you. You did a great job cleaning it.”
Albert nodded. The task accomplished, his focus shifted to the unclothed half of my body. He stared brazenly at my crotch, at my legs. “You’re beautiful, Mrs. Sanborn. I want to see more.”
I didn’t know if he was asking me to undress further. He was clearly nervous about making the request. I decided to turn around and show him my covered ass.
“I like your body. Can I touch?”
“No, Albert. That would not be right.”