The Making Of A Gigolo 14 Erica BradfordChapter 24
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The adrenaline was leaching out of the systems of most of them. Erica was no different. She felt weak and tired. She’d been separated from Will by the well-wishers. She could see him across the room, surrounded by boys. Jake and Tilly had already left. Someone sat down next to her and she turned her head to see Christy Brown. Erica had seen her sitting with Bobby earlier. They had been eating and talking.
“I need to talk to you,” said Christy.
When Christy had worked up the courage to go talk to Erica, Bobby got up and wandered over to sit with Will. He had no idea how Erica would react to what he suspected Christy was going to tell her, but if it wasn’t a good reaction, maybe he could defuse it. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Erica about what had happened the night before. He knew she was worried about it, but he was pretty sure he could convince her not to be. He didn’t know how much he’d have to tell her about himself to convince her, though. He regretted what he had said. It had been an impulse, and he should have controlled it. It was really none of his business. She was so abrasive, though, that he hadn’t been able to resist taking a little jab at her. He felt bad about that now, but it was too late.
He couldn’t sit beside Will. There were several boys in those spots, so he sat as close as he could, and looked over at Erica and Christy. Neither was stiff. They were talking and their body language looked normal to his eyes.
“I like your brother,” said Christy.
That statement can be taken on several levels. Both women knew, though, that the “like” that was used in this case meant much more than casual acceptance of a person as a friend. Had it been earlier in the night, her reaction might have been completely different, but Erica was drained now.
“Why?” she asked. It was, in fact, the most important question in her mind.
“I don’t really know,” said Christy. “It’s a little confusing for me. I think he’s brave, for one thing. I just know I feel a pull towards him.”
“Is it pity?” asked Erica. “Because if it’s pity ... he won’t take that.”
“He said the same thing,” said Christy. “It’s not pity. I’m attracted to him. I’m sorry for what he’s had to go through, but I don’t feel sorry for him. Does that make sense?”
Erica grappled with that, because she realized she did feel sorry for him. The way Christy had said it, that felt wrong somehow. She remembered the photographs. Those photographs had told Erica things that the casual observer wouldn’t necessarily know. Will had let this woman see his naked chest and for that to have happened, he would have had to feel comfortable. She couldn’t envision him doing that any other way. That meant that he liked this woman. And now, Christy was saying she had feelings for Will too. As completely unlikely as Erica thought it was that anything could come from it, she couldn’t take that away from him.
She felt like something precious was being ripped from her as she thought about Will being drawn to this woman. It was at that point that she realized she was jealous. She had seen it in other women ... had scorned those women for letting a man take such control over them that they’d act that way ... feel that way. The emptiness she felt at the thought of Will going away from her, though, made her understand those women a lot better now.
Still, it was Will who was important here ... not her. She looked over at him and saw Bobby Dalton looking at her. Was he in on this? He’d been sitting with Christy before. He knew about their secret. Had he told her?
“I love my brother,” she said, looking at Christy’s eyes to see her reaction to that.
She saw only yearning in those eyes. There was no trace of judgment or condemnation.
“I know that,” said Christy. “I don’t know if he has any feelings for me, but I want to find out ... if I can.”
“I saw the pictures you took of him,” said Erica.
Christy blushed, for some reason. “I was showing him how to develop film and make prints,” she said. “He did all of those himself, except for one.”
“He wouldn’t have taken his shirt off if he didn’t trust you. He’s very sensitive about that.”
“I could tell it was hard for him,” said Christy. “It was hard for me too, but I would never hurt him.”
Having identified her jealousy for what it was, and having seen no indication that Christy knew anything about their secret, Erica tried to evaluate what Christy had said. A normal woman was taking an interest in Will. Erica could understand that interest from her own perspective. She loved Will and wanted him to be happy. But she had always loved him. He was her brother, and they had suffered together. What she couldn’t figure out was why Christy was drawn to him. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was Will’s happiness. If a normal woman was interested in him ... that would make him happy ... wouldn’t it? Only if it didn’t fail.
She didn’t know what to do, and she was so tired she didn’t want to think about it anymore.
“He’s an adult,” she said. “You are too. What I think doesn’t really matter.”
“It does to me,” said Christy.
“Well, in that case, I don’t know what I think about it,” said Erica, a little snappishly.
Christy heard the frustration. But there was no overt objection, so she stood up.
“Then I guess we’ll talk about it more when you’ve figured it out.”
Erica watched the woman walk over towards Will. She saw Christy move one teenage boy aside, by pushing him gently, and then lean down to say something in Will’s ear.
“I want to spend some more time with you tonight,” Christy whispered.
She had approached him from the front, and he had seen her coming. He had seen her move George to one side and, when she bent over to speak to him, he had seen the cleavage displayed when the front of the purple blouse she was wearing obeyed the law of gravity. Her bra was a creamy tan color and was very lacy.
Much can be conveyed by words, almost as much as can be conveyed by body language. But what part does tone of voice play? It’s not exactly verbal and it’s certainly not non-verbal. It is said that seventy percent of communication in a face to face meeting is non-verbal. So that leaves thirty percent for the spoken part. Sometimes the tone of voice, with its tiny nuances, may account for twenty-nine percentage points. Watching Christy approach had gotten Will’s attention. Looking down her blouse had gotten all of his attention. And Christy’s tone of voice made it virtually impossible for him to give any attention to anything else at all.
“I have to go, guys,” he said, as she stood back up. “It was a great show, and I’m really proud of all of you.”
Bobby hadn’t heard what Christy said to him, but her body language spoke to him too. He recognized some of that body language as what had been spoken to him in the past, by this same woman. Christy was hot-blooded and he had spent enough time around her to recognize the signs. When she had said she liked Will, she was understating things a bit. He glanced over at Erica, who was sitting, staring at Christy’s back.
“Looks like we have time to talk now,” said Bobby, sitting down beside Erica. She had watched him come over, but her face had been blank.
“I’m too tired to talk now,” she said.
“We need to talk, Erica,” he said.
“I know,” she responded, watching Christy pushing Will toward the exit. “Thank you for not telling everybody.”
“Let me take you home.”
“I have my car in the parking lot,” she said.
“I know.”
She looked at him then. His eyes reminded her of pictures she’d seen of the water in the Bahamas, deep ... blue ... inviting.
“If I spend more time with you, I’ll just make a fool of myself again,” she said. She believed that was true, even though there was no projected scenario in her mind. She always seemed to make a fool of herself when she was around this man.
“Why are you so afraid of me?” he asked.
A spark of anger ignited, and gave her energy. She sat up.
“I’m not afraid of you!” she snapped. His blue eyes never wavered and she realized she was lying. She slumped. “I don’t know why I’m afraid of you,” she amended.
Bobby thought he knew. He had seen bits and pieces of Florence in her behavior. Suzie too. But he had also seen some of the signs that Bev and Mary, and even the twins, had exhibited at one time or another. His instinct was simply to explore that, to see if he could identify what she needed. He realized that was a change, because, until recently, he hadn’t really cared what she needed. He wondered briefly if the change in his attitude was because he knew Will was sleeping in the same bed with her ... whatever that meant.
“Let me take you home,” he said again.
Christy hadn’t spoken as she drove Will to her house. He had looked over at her several times. She seemed relaxed and was paying attention to the road. He wasn’t sure what to think any more ... wasn’t sure he’d heard what he thought he’d heard in her voice.
Then, once they were inside, she got a chair and put it in front of him.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“Okay.” What else could he say?
“I like you,” she said.
“I’m glad.” He felt stupid for saying that.
“I think I like you a lot,” she said.
“You think?” He wished he’d just stop talking.
“We don’t know each other all that well,” she said.
“Yeah.” That seemed safe enough.
“I need to know how you feel.”
This was a conversation Will Bradford was quite sure he would never have. Not in a million years. His mind centered on that.
“This is a conversation I thought I’d never have,” he said.
“Well, we are having it,” she replied.
“How could you ... like me?” he asked. It was an honest question.
“I don’t know,” she said promptly. “I just do.”
“Even with this?” His right hand went to the scarring on the left side of his face.
“Yes.”
He thought about the pity angle. They’d already talked about that. She knew how he felt about that. And she didn’t sound like she was full of pity right now.
“Then I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he said. He meant that too.
She seemed to relax. “Let’s save the dying part for later,” she said, smiling. “But we need to talk about the heaven part.”
“What?” That didn’t make any sense.
“I’m a woman. You’re a man.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he said. He was amazed at how easy it was to talk to this woman.
“Men and women ... when they enter into a relationship... “ She blushed. “Well ... they usually want to ... do things.”
Will felt blood rushing to a part of his body that he knew wasn’t damaged.
“Oh... that kind of heaven,” he said.
She blushed even more, but held her eyes on his.
“I need to know...” She did look away now. “I feel bad for asking, but I need to know ... how injured you are.” She covered her face with both hands and made a little whining noise.
He waited. Eventually she peeked through her fingers at him.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “That was totally uncalled for.”
“I’m not that injured,” he said softly.
“I feel like such a dufus,” she moaned.
“You sure made my day,” he said. “That’s twice you’ve made my day.”
“Really?” She perked up and her hands came away from her still red face. “When was the other time?”
“When you kissed me last night.”
“Oh.” She seemed happy.
He slumped. “It won’t work, though,” he said.
“Why not?” Her voice rose.
“I only have one leg, and one arm,” he said, “in case you somehow hadn’t noticed.”
Christy knew at least five or six ways to make love. She’d learned them all from Bobby, and Will’s lack of a leg and hand were the least of her worries. Her worry had been that me night not be able to perform at all. That would have been extremely frustrating for both of them. While his ruined body wasn’t a deal-breaker, if she was going to fall in love with another man - and she had those kinds of vibes about Will - she wanted to be able to love that man in all ways.
“You let me worry about that,” she said. Then she blushed again.
“I’ve never met a woman like you,” sighed Will. “This is all like a dream.”
“I’m sorry to push you like this,” said Christy. “But I really like you ... and I just wanted to make sure that if this really does work out, that we could both be happy.”
“If I was any happier, they’d take me off to the happy farm,” said Will.
Christy tilted her head and surveyed him. He saw something almost feral in her eyes.
“Oh, you’re not nearly as happy as I plan to make you,” she said.
Nature, as a single concept, is almost unimaginably complicated. We’ve all heard about the straw that broke the camel’s back. Nature is literally filled with examples of that idea. A single raindrop is what sets off a mudslide. A single snowflake is responsible for an avalanche. An ounce of growth is what makes the roots of a tree finally unable to support its weight, and it falls. Very tiny things can make huge differences in nature. And humankind is not exempt.
The combination of tiny things that caused Erica Bradford to let Bobby take her home, resulted in something that, on the grand scale of things, was also tiny. It was just a man and a woman, alone in a house, in a small town, in a state that was tiny when compared to the country, which was only a fraction of the land mass that wasn’t ocean on a planet that was one ten-thousandth the size of the star that warmed it. That star was an insignificant part of a minor galaxy that could disappear without an observer a hundred or so light years away even noticing.
There were also small things that affected those two human beings after they got to the house too.
One was that Erica was in no mood to be alone. She knew that if she was, all she’d think about was what Will was doing. Another was that the musical had caused her to establish more relationships in four months than she had entered into in the previous four years of her life. She had grown to like the feeling of being “social.” Yet another thing was that she wasn’t used to coming home to an empty house.
“Do you want something to eat or drink?” Bobby’s question broke into her thoughts. She thought it was odd that it was her house, but he was making the offer.
“No.”
She felt like she should resist when he took her elbow and led her to the couch. She stood, looking at him.
“Sit down,” he said, his voice soft. “We really need to talk.”
“What’s there to talk about?” she asked. “You tricked me into revealing that I’m a pervert.”
“If you don’t sit down, I’m going to touch your breasts again,” he said.
She was outraged. But she had gotten to know this man almost better than any other man she’d ever met, and she knew he’d probably make good on his threat. She sat.
“Do you love Will?”
“Of course I love him,” she said.
“Do you care what he needs to make him happy?”
“These are stupid questions, Bobby.”
“Do you want him to be happy?” insisted Bobby.
“Of course!“
“Then I don’t see a problem,” he said.
It was quiet for half a minute as she waited for him to go on. When she realized he wasn’t going to, her mouth fell open.
“That’s it?” she gasped.
“That’s it,” he said.
“Are you telling me you don’t object to me...” She had been about to say, “sucking my brother’s penis?” but chopped that off just in time.
“I’m saying that if your actions are the product of love and caring about Will ... it’s really none of my business. It’s not anybody else’s business either.”
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