Evergreen by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 19

Saturday arrived with a clear sky and a cold breeze. The peak of autumn had passed and the first of the holidays was fast approaching. As the host of their date, Christine spent a good part of the day running madly about her house. Working long hours, she rarely spent time at home. But having visitors necessitated a flurry of cleaning. She also felt that a well-ordered environment reflected a well-ordered life. Christine wanted to convey not only the fact that she didn’t live like a pig, but that her life was something close to normal. She spent hours vacuuming every square inch of carpet and hardwood. She put so many hours into her job that she’d forgotten how much work housecleaning was and during the process, Christine thought it necessary to shower the sweat from her body. In anticipation of the night’s events, she considered placing a lit dinner candle in the middle of the table. However, it occurred to her that any formality could engender a noticeable degree of discomfort, and she wanted to keep things as casual as possible. An evening of awkward silence would greatly reduce the chance of anything meaningful developing. As a law enforcement officer, she was keenly aware that positive relationships are created by positive, open lines of communication and knowing something of Tom’s past, Christine guessed that he would be especially tense. She wondered briefly if she’d made the right decision but quickly dismissed any doubts as the product of girlish nervousness. Ordinarily, she was not one to drink. Her job demanded a clear head, but for that night, Christine was free of the responsibilities of the job.

She went to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of beer. She began to relax after only a couple swallows. It was an effective means of dealing with a feeling she had not experienced in years. But, she exercised a conscious degree of self-restraint, knowing that sometimes the cure can be worse than the disease. Meanwhile, Tom was in a similar state. On occasions like this, men usually wear aftershave or some other cologne. But, the last thing he wanted was to show up at Christine’s place smelling like a high paid hooker. He checked his hair numerous times and brushed his teeth. Twice. He thought wearing a suit would be too formal. So instead, Tom decided on a brown tweed jacket and a white button front shirt. Simple is often less apt to engender a noticeable degree of tension. Tom had become so obsessed with making sure that everything was perfect that he had driven himself to the point of being unable to think straight. But eventually, he managed to settle his nerves with a couple swallows of beer.

As 5 o’clock approached, Katie walked in the front door. She had never seen her father dressed for any kind of special occasion, with the exception of her mother’s funeral. Her face was quickly overtaken by an expression of surprise as she was reminded of his impending date. “Damn!” she began. “Look at you! You didn’t tell me it was tonight!”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” Tom replied. Katie sat on the couch and continued her a playful smile at a site she might never see again. But, Tom was quick to redirect her attention.

“So,” he began. “What have you and Bobby been up to lately?”

“Oh, well, he’s really getting into the history of that old house in the woods,” she answered.

Tom looked at her with sudden concern. “The Redfield house?” he asked.

Katie was astonished that her father even knew the name. “How’d you know that name?” she asked. Tom quickly returned to preening his appearance, looking for any imperfections be they real or imagined. But in truth, he was trying to avoid answering questions about the house, in hopes that Katie would stop asking about it. “Dad,” she continued. “What do you know about that house?”

####Tom decided that a bit of fatherly firmness was in order. He knew that kids, in general, are prone to two complimentary experiences, curiosity and boredom. He didn’t want to step on her curiosity. Yet, he was unable to cure her boredom.

“Look...Katie,” he began. “It’s just an old house, okay? And I don’t want you going up there. It’s not safe.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a twenty-dollar bill and handing it to her, informed her that he would likely be in late and when she got hungry, could order pizza. The conversation came to an uncomfortable end. But Tom, wanting to lighten a suddenly rising tension, asked Katie for a woman’s opinion of his appearance.

“You look great, dad,” she replied.

Her tone was less than enthusiastic. The excitement she felt for her father’s first date had withered with what she believed was an unnecessary lecture. “Dad, it’s just an old house,” she continued. “Besides, Bobby said he saw a ghost in one of the windows. How lame is that?”

Tom sat down next to her. He felt the need to clear the air and didn’t want the added tension, given the situation. “Sweetheart,” he began. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. You know I’m just looking out for you, right?”

“I know,” Katie answered.

She decided to add her own sense of humor, just to let her father know there were no hard feelings. She also wanted him to go on his date free of the guilt associated with the sternness of his part of the conversation. “Besides, it’s probably full of mouse turds, or something.” Tom gave her a smile and a pat on the back, feeling the tension suddenly lift from between them. He glanced at his watch and realizing the time, jumped to his feet. “Shit,” he said. “I’m gonna to be late.” As he walked toward the door, Katie had one last question.

“Can I invite Bobby over?”

Tom had his hand on the doorknob as her question stopped him in mid-stride.

“Um...no,” he answered, matter-of-factly. He knew Katie was not sexually active, but there was no reason to take chances.

“Maybe another time.”

As he turned back to leave, Katie noticed the obvious return of his anxiety.

“Hey, dad,” she said.

He turned and looked at her with a wide-eyed expression of tension.

“What?” he asked.

“Relax,” she answered.

He paused for a moment taking a deep breath. “Right, gotta go.”

He rushed out the door and down to his truck. Evergreen was a small town and Tom knew that Christine’s house was only ten or fifteen minutes-walk away. But, he was in somewhat of a frenzied state and turning around in his driveway, hastily drove off, just missing a car parked across the street.

A few minutes later, Tom arrived at Christine’s. He could have easily walked, but as a creature of habit, it was his natural tendency to drive. He stood in front of her door. His hands turned to ice as he struggled to find his first few words and taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his quivering nerves. Finally, forcing his hand up, Tom pushed the doorbell. He stood waiting for several moments with the thought that he’d forgotten something and as the door began to open, it dawned on him - a gift, nothing extravagant; a bottle of wine, flowers, something. But, it was too late for that now. Christine opened the door as they made eye contact for what seemed like the first time. A nervous smile came over both their faces as she welcomed him in.

“I, uh...would have brought something, but it just kinda’ slipped my mind,” he said.

She motioned him into the living room as he closed the door.

“Oh, that’s okay,” she began. “You don’t have to be fancy about it.”

As she walked into the living room ahead of him, Tom spent a few minutes allowing his eyes to wander over her body. He had seen her many times in uniform but was unaware of how long her hair was. It was draped thickly over her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. As she turned to sit on the couch, he couldn’t help noticing the absolute symmetry of her body; her hourglass shape and the firmness of her waist. She was truly a specimen of womanly beauty. Michelangelo would certainly have taken great pains to carve her physique from the finest marble. Hence, her soul, as well, capturing it for all eternity.

Christine sat down and crossing her legs, invited Tom to sit next to her. The jeans she chose for the occasion clung to her shapely legs as though they had been painted on by the hand of a great master. Tom sat down, not close enough to create undue discomfort, but not so far as to give the impression of being shy. He thought it might be best to simply be upfront about his anxiety, to clear the air.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I’m not really good at this anymore.”

Christine’s face took an expression of concern. His tension was obvious, and she wanted him to feel at ease. “About what?” she asked.

Tom took a deep breath and prepared his words of confession.

“Oh, you know, dates. Women,” he answered. Christine reached out a sympathetic hand and placing it on his arm, made a confession of her own. “Tom, you don’t have to be nervous,” she began. “To be honest, I’m a bit out of practice myself.” The flush of his face disappeared as most of his tension melted from his body. He let out a sigh of relief and felt a sudden calm move throughout his body as the warmth of her hand remained on his arm. As the moment passed, they searched themselves for a topic of conversation.

“I see the bee stings are gone,” Christine began. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, doing just fine,” Tom answered. “Just a few red spots is all.”

Christine was still somewhat concerned for his health but was now convinced he had made a full recovery. “I’m glad to hear it,” she replied. “You had us pretty worried for a while.”

There was a brief pause in the conversation, but the tension between them had begun to dissipate. “How’s Katie?” Christine asked.

During Tom’s illness, Katie had quickly become something of a basket case. But since his return to work, her life had returned to normal.

“Oh, she’s doing a lot better. Everything’s back on track.”

“Good!” Christine replied.

She was glad to see their lives had achieved its former state of normalcy.

“But, there is one thing,” Tom continued. “She seems to be getting a little curious about the Redfield house. More than I’m comfortable with, really.”

She acknowledged his concern. But, she also knew that there was only so much she could do. Certainly, she couldn’t watch every teenager in town. “Well,” she began. “I’ve got the Deputy going up there once in a while.”

She paused again. Anyone who knew about the house never spoke of it. But, it was just the two of them and as much as she wanted, Christine would not reveal everything she knew about its history. “Do you know what happened up there?” she asked.

She thought it might be best to leave well enough alone, but her instincts quickly led her to a small degree of investigation.

“Um, only bits and pieces,” Tom answered. “I know there was a murder, but that’s about it.”

In a small town like Evergreen, an event of that magnitude -– no matter how long ago –- quickly becomes, not only, part of his history, but its character - its soul. Christine was both pleased and relieved to see how little Tom knew about the Redfield house. She thought it was better that way.

She decided to redirect the conversation toward one of the few passions men seem to possess – food, namely, steak.

“How are you at cooking a steak?” Christine asked. “Are you kidding!?” Tom answered. “All I need is a tenderizing mallet. What kind of steaks do you have?” Initially, Christine wanted Delmonico steaks. But at fifteen dollars a pound, he settled on strip steaks instead. Together, they got up and headed for Christine’s relatively narrow kitchen. She retrieved the steaks from the refrigerator as Tom warmed up a frying pan. They were both becoming more at ease around each other. Perhaps it was due to working towards a common goal, even if it was just dinner. Or, perhaps, it was the kitchens tight quarters, forcing their bodies closer together. On at least two occasions, Christine would slip between Tom and a row of cabinets, unknowingly brushing her breasts across his back. While she was unaware of it, Tom was certainly more than conscious of it and with each pass of her body, he became increasingly aroused. He set the temperature of the stove someplace between warm and medium, trying to distract himself with the details of preparing the steaks. But, he felt himself letting his guard down as an unspoken bond began to make itself apparent. Now, his desire for Christine became mixed with a sudden surge of confidence. Christine made one more pass behind him when he suddenly turned to face her. The possibility of intimacy always comes at the risk of being hurt or rejected. But both of them were adults, fully aware of the need to take chances. To step outside one’s comfort zone on occasion.

Christine immediately stopped in front of him. Their reaction to each other was instantaneous as each of them momentarily wondered what the next step would be. But, reason was quickly overpowered by physical attraction. Something else had taken over. Something each had gone far too long without. Tom’s hands slowly found their way around Christine’s slender waist as her arms rose up and around his neck. The time it took for the lips to meet seem like an eternity and at the first sensation of contact, their mouths opened. Their tongues played furiously as the flickering spark of passion quickly touched off the beginnings of a roaring fire. Reaching behind his back, Tom turned off the stove while Christine hastily unbuttoned his shirt. Letting it fall to the floor, she wrapped her arms around his waist, sliding her hands up to the middle of his back. Their breathing quickened as Tom pulled Christine’s blouse from beneath her jeans. She leaned back and looked into his eyes with a teasing smile.

“I guess I should tell you that I’m not that kind of girl,” she said.

Tom had become flushed with the excitement of what now promised to be a very eventful evening and seeing the humor behind her words, Tom could think of only one response.

“That’s okay,” he replied. “Neither am I.” He smiled warmly as Christine let out a girlish giggle.

They abandoned the kitchen, leaving behind a trail of clothes that led to Christine’s bathroom. The end of the trail found them in the shower, with steaming water rolling down their naked bodies. Christine’s fiery hair clung to her skin as her fingertips wandered over Tom’s rippling musculature. Years of working in the woods had not yet taken their toll but left him with a well-chiseled physique. Beneath the stream of water, they stood wrapped in each other’s arms. Their bodies clinging together as water mixed with sweat. Save for a few well-placed moles, Christine’s skin was nearly unblemished. Tom’s fingers slowly found their way down the middle of her back and further down to just above the back of her slender, toned legs. It was not a heavy touch, but a light stroke that brought Christine’s passions to a roaring blaze as she gently took Tom’s shoulder in her teeth. They wandered their way back to each other’s mouths, kissing passionately as their tongues met in a furious game of arousal. Breaking away for a brief moment, Christine looked up at Tom and made a quiet request. Moments later, the shower was turned off. They both stepped out and grabbing a towel, dried their bodies as best they could in the short time it took to chase each other to the bedroom. The covers were quickly thrown off the bed and onto the floor. They landed on the king-sized bed facing each other as they continued to explore the limitless desire they felt, that, for far too long, had been locked away in their souls. Only now, was it ready to be revealed, one to the other. But, it was not only their souls that intermingled. Their bodies also fell into a state of union as Tom gently pushed himself into Christine’s body like a key into a lock. With every sudden plunge, her breasts darted towards her shoulders as her hands tightly gripped the bed sheet, her toes involuntarily curling in on themselves. She reached down with both hands and grabbing Tom just below the small of his back, pulled him in with the rhythm of his body. The force of each movement pried open a cage within her, releasing a wild animal as she began rapidly gasping with the oncoming arrival of what could only be described as an elevation of the soul. Her head tipped back and as her body arched toward the ceiling, she exploded from both body and soul as she released her passion, letting go a series of brief screams with the rhythm of prolonged pleasure. Christine’s response was all that was needed to send Tom over the edge as his muscles tightened and his jaw clenched. They were both caught in the same moment of release as their souls danced together in a place that lay at the edge of eternity, somewhere on the mountaintop of sensual enlightenment and the bonfire of passion.

Christine dropped her legs around Tom’s waist as he got to his knees. He leaned a hand on the bed next to her and collapsed onto his back. The shower water had evaporated from their skin, replaced by the shimmer of sweat. Both were breathless as they turned to each other and giggled slightly.

“That was fantastic,” Christine said.

Neither felt the need to cover themselves. After revealing more than their passions to each other, the idea of modesty had become somewhat pointless. Christine rolled towards Tom and wrapped an arm around his chest. Their muscles relaxed as they felt themselves floating, intertwined in each other’s arms. Tom looked down her body in admiration, having seen more of her than he could have ever dreamed.

“So,” he began. “I finally got to see what’s under that uniform, huh?”

His fingertips drifted down over her hip, setting her flesh ablaze with goose bumps. A chill quickly followed with a gasp of surprise. As she sat up, Christine grabbed the covers and pulled them up over her body. Tom grinned teasingly while covering himself, joining her beneath the warming layers of cotton and goose down. Facing each other again, they embraced, kissing lightly. It was with this expression of affection each conveyed the affirmation that what they had shared was something not to be taken as casual. That what they had given to each other was real, creating a deep bond that would evolve over time. Beyond the four edges of the bed, there was nothing. The world had gone away for what seemed like forever and with her eyes closed, Christine began to drift off when she suddenly remembered something important. She bolted up in bed, disrupting Tom as he also began to doze. “Holy shit!” she said. “The steaks!”

She scrambled to get out of bed as Tom watched her leave the room. She had not taken the time to so much as throw on a bathrobe, and as Tom watched her leave, only one word rose into his mind. ‘Magnificent’. She had just disappeared beyond the doorway when Tom informed her that he’d turned off the stove just before their jaunt to the shower. Christine walked back at a casual pace. “And you waited until now to tell me?” she asked with a grin.

“Well,” Tom began. “I would have said something sooner, but I was enjoying the view.”

By this point, Tom was sitting up in bed with his back against the headboard. Christine crawled back onto the bed and slipped between the sheets next to him. He immediately rediscovered the curves of her body; how her hips moved; how her back dipped down towards the bed as she moved toward him like a cat; how her breasts fell away from her body as her arms pushed them together, accentuating what no artist could render.

She sat next to him, gently nipping at his shoulder with her teeth.

“So,” Tom began. “What would you suggest for dinner?” Christine kissed him on the mouth as her hand wandered beneath the sheet, surrounding whatever it encountered first.

“Well” she answered. “We’ve already had dessert and I’m a bit too tired to cook. Maybe we can have the steak another night.”

With her hand still in motion, Tom was, once again sent to a state of arousal as his skin flushed and his eyes rolled slightly back after a few minutes, she crept down towards his hips and replaced her hand with something far gentler. Quickly losing track of the conversation, Tom’s breathing quickened while his body slid back down to a lying position. About ten minutes later, Christine released him. But, her fingertips continued in their own adventurous wanderings of Tom’s anatomy. She let out a deep sigh of exhaustion as she resolved the issue of dinner. “How about pizza?” she asked.

Tom raised his head. His eyes were still covered with the glaze of physical stimulation.

“Sounds good,” he answered. “What do you like on it?” Christine looked at him teasingly. She was lying on her stomach, down the front of Tom’s legs. “Sausage,” she said with a grin. “Lots of sausage.” Releasing him from her gentle, yet playful grip, Christine made her way back to the head of the bed, again lying next to him.

“I suppose we have to get dressed, don’t we?” she asked. “Are you sure?” Tom replied.

Christine giggled as she imagined the outcome of answering the door, confronting the delivery boy with her unclothed body.

“I think the delivery boy can learn about those things in school,” she answered.

Tom groaned slightly as he got to his feet. “Or on the internet,” he joked.

Unable to contain her laughter, she turned away from her dresser where she was searching for a clean bra. “That is so bad,” she said.

Tom had never seen this side of Christine. He was more accustomed to the professional presence the rest of the town saw on a day-to-day basis. He certainly would never have guessed she was so insatiably sexual. But there was something that, for now, he would not reveal to her - the feeling that he could easily become quite used to her constant presence. However, unbeknownst to him, Christine felt the same way.

It wasn’t long after ordering that their pizza arrived. It was delivered by a young man who had taken the job in addition to attending Evergreen high school. Christine knew him on site and asked how he was. “Oh, I’m good Sheriff,” he answered. “How ‘bout you?” Christine’s response was brief. Tom stood back, away from the door. He thought it best not to be seen and avoid risking the spread of rumors. People are always entertained by the lives of others, and Tom was easily able to imagine the content of such gossip - dating, sex, marriage and everything in between. Christine paid for the pizza, giving the young man a generous tip. After closing the door, she went to the window, making certain he wasn’t loitering about. Even out of uniform, she tried to keep the town’s kids out of trouble.

“Is he gone?” Tom asked quietly.

Seeing the car drive off, Christine walked back into the living room and set the pizza on the coffee table. “He didn’t suspect a thing,” she whispered. She retrieved plates from the cabinet and a couple of beers from the refrigerator. She walked back over and sat on the couch next to Tom as he was opening the pizza box - three kinds of cheese with mushrooms, black olives and, of course, plenty of sausage.

“So,” Christine began. “Do you think Katie’s going to figure out what’s going on?”

Tom smiled broadly.

“You mean can she keep a secret?” he replied. “Well, she told me that I needed to get laid.”

Christine broke into uncontrolled laughter. “She actually told you that!?” she asked. “Yeah,” Tom answered. “That isn’t even the best part.” Christine sat in rapt attention.

“She knew about our date. I don’t know how the hell this kid does it, but she’s really perceptive. So, I’m pretty sure she’s going to figure it out when I get home. And yes, I think she can keep a secret. It’ll probably kill her to keep her mouth closed. But, I trust her.”

Christine managed to suppress her laughter but was unable to hide an amused grin.

“Oh, it’s funny,” Tom continued. “But sometimes, it’s like living with a psychic.”

Christine put a hand on his shoulder. “Tom, don’t you think that by now she just knows you that well?”

Tom let out a deep sigh, knowing that Christine was right. “Yeah, I know,” he replied. “But, it’s still a little irritating sometimes.”

Christine tried to be supportive but found the conversation too humorous for her to make a convincing attempt. “I’m sure everything’s going to be okay,” she said while giving him the first slice of pizza.

It wasn’t even close to a statement of support, but it was the best she could manage, given the humor of the conversation.

As they continued eating, Tom’s mind turned to a moment of seriousness. It had occurred to him that Christine once had a child of her own - a son. After divorcing her husband, she made a request to be transferred to a small town - someplace quiet and isolated. But several months after arriving and Evergreen her son went missing. It was a long time ago and the details of his disappearance were never made public. His own memories of it were less than sketchy. Still, he didn’t have the heart to bring it up. He felt it would be an unnecessary act of cruelty. After all, no parent should have to suffer the resurrection of those particular memories.