Two weeks passed. I could not get the anger out of my mind. I could not shake a sense of shame, the only remedy for which was masturbation. I was angry with Julian. I was ashamed of what I had done with April. I was more ashamed of the knowledge that, given the chance, I would do it again.
I had opted out of my psychology/ philosophy group. There were only two rules there- first, be true to you, secondly, never lie to the group or any of its members. I was guilty of violating both rules.
It was approximately a forty-five minute drive from my house to the home of the man named Milam. Ten minutes into my journey, I stopped at a red light and switched on the radio. I needed distraction to clear my mind. The light turned green and I simultaneously laughed at the irony. "Let It Ride" by BTO...a classic with, in my particular case, more than one meaning.
Julian and I had had no sex since his first night back. He was not happy. On that night, I lay on my back, oblivious to his presence. I later apologized to him for laughing as he writhed on me- I could not stop the recollection of peeing on his note. What would he say if he knew what I had done to Merrick? What would he say if he knew what April and I had explored? He humped me harder as the realization came that I could care less.
Yesterday, he had seen the indifference in my eyes as I came home to find him packed. I sat on the sofa; my legs crossed Indian-style as his rant began.
"If you don't give a damn about me or my feelings, why did you let me waste three years of my life with you?" he demanded.
I pulled my hair back and stared at him silently.
"Answer me!"
"You use the word let in an attempt to place all the blame on me. You are going to do that anyway, so what good would an argument be?"
"You are seeing someone else, aren't you?"
I laughed spontaneously.
"I am going to tell you something. You are a cold bitch. In this moment, I wish I had never met you."
"Goodbye Julian."
"Get some help Geneva- some professional help."
Not because of Julian, and in spite of my indifference to him and his departure, I was following his advice.
True to her word, April had secured an appointment for interview. I was aware of our bargain. I would owe her for this. This realization caused both anxiety and the need to masturbate.
In a two-week period, I had learned a great deal about Milam. He held a PHD in psychology and a degree in philosophy. He was a shadowy figure. He had published a book titled "The Theology of Sex and Self" under a pen name. Though he officially headed no organization, I learned that which I already suspected, he had at least handfuls of followers everywhere.
Most importantly, I learned that Milam had interviewed and published the story of Alexandra and Michael. Alex was my personal hero now. I needed to tap into that power. She may or may not sleep with another woman. She may or may not let Julian leave with indifference; but whatever Alexandra did or did not do, she would maintain strength.
I had to talk with a speaker at the gated entrance. Here in the mountains, the blooms were springing forth, the birds providing the song of the season. I traversed the long drive to park in front of the huge, stately structure. My short skirt and cotton blouse reminded me that the breeze was cool here. I hoped he would find my attire appropriate.
"Appropriate to throw me on his desk and fuck my brains out", I whispered before ringing the bell.
"Hello", said the elderly woman who opened the door. She appeared to be at least seventy years of age, yet she was lovely. Her eyes smiled naturally.
"I am here to see-"
"I know why you are here. Please come in, Geneva."
Everything was wood, marble, and antique. Our steps echoed through the grand hall. This seemed too conservative, not at all what I had anticipated.
Edith led me to his study. The room was quiet and dark, with little to give away anything regarding the nature of this man.
"So what do you do here Edith?" I asked as I took a seat. I crossed my legs, hiding the black panties, visible to her smiling eyes because of my plaid skirt.
"I oversee the staff. May I get you something to drink?
"Coffee?"
"How do you take it?"
"It is a bit chilly in here. Can I have it with Baileys?"
She nodded. "You may."
To my right, after Edith left the study, I was taken with a large picture. It hung over a large fireplace. I moved closer, struggling to determine whether it was a painting or a photograph. Chills went through me as I studied the cadre of black birds, airborne and forming a circle round the full, glowing moon.
I could not seem to stop staring. I was lost in the ephemeral subjectivity.
"It is titled Night's High Noon."
The deep voice from behind startled me back into reality. I turned to see Milam standing at the study doors. My breath went only halfway to the caverns of my chest. This was not the disheveled man I had seen before. His salt and pepper hair was groomed. He was tall and lean. He wore black pants and a white oxford shirt. I moved closer as my eyes locked onto the blue of his. I moved still closer as I noted his broad shoulders, the outline of his torso, and the diminutive girth of his waist, and the fullness contained beneath his pants.
He turned to close one of the doors.
"You have a nice ass", I said softly.
"Pardon me?"
"Nothing."
"Please", he said. "Have a seat."
I advertised myself then. My crotch was hot. My vagina needed to be free. I knew that Milam could see my panties. I wanted him to see my outline before I crossed my legs.
Edith entered then with a silver tray. The coffee and Baileys was for me, the cognac was for Milam.
After setting the drinks between us, Edith left the room, closing the doors behind her. I studied the body of Milam again as he rounded his desk. To my surprise, he retrieved and lit a cigarette.
"I am allergic to smoke", I protested.
"Everyone is allergic to smoke."
"But my Doctor said-"
"Why did you come here? Why did you want to see me?"
I smiled. "You don't care that I am allergic?"
He sat down across from me, the cigarette burning, like the indifference in his deep blue eyes. We studied each other as he sipped the cognac.
He was like the Tanita Tikaram song....haunting, sexy, aloof, and mysterious.
"Can I have a cigarette?" I asked.
I noted the faintest hint of a smile as he retrieved another cancer stick from his desk. I stared up at his gorgeous, officious presence as he placed the cigarette between my lips. I was stimulated tremendously until he lit it and I began to cough.
"Is this a good thing?"
"Is what a good thing?" he responded.
I could not take my eyes off him as he returned to his chair.
"Is it a good thing that I am smoking?"
His laugh was sublime. "Smoking is not a good thing. Experimentation is a good thing."
"But then-"
"I understand you have a story or stories in which you think I might be interested."
I puffed again on the grotesque instrument of vice before taking a sip of coffee. "I thought I did", I said pensively. "I don't."
"Then I will ask you again, why did you come here for an interview?"
"I want you to help me."
"I have not practiced as a counselor in nearly seven years, Geneva."
"Why are you trying to bullshit me?"
His brow rose slightly. "Excuse me?"
"You help people. You know that is true. It is why you do what you do."
His laughter was real this time. "You, Geneva, are quite the expert now, are you not?"
"You are laughing at me."
"Yes, I am."
I puffed the cigarette again. "Do you want my story?"
"Tell me."
"My degree is in journalism. I minored in philosophy. I have never been married and I don't think I want children. My live-in boyfriend just left after three years and I don't care. Two weeks ago I fucked April- or, she fucked me; and right now I want to fuck you as much as I have ever wanted anything in my life."
"You get right to the point. That is good, and I will follow suit. What is it you are searching for?"
"Freedom."
He sipped his drink again. "Freedom from what?"
"Freedom from judgment and regret. I want to be where Alexandra was when she fucked Michael in his car. I want to be where she was when his friends saw her naked."
"What are you willing to sacrifice?"
"Sacrifice?"
"Freedom is never free, at least not until one frees oneself."
"How do you achieve that?"
"Like writing, painting, science...it comes more naturally to some."
"How can I achieve it?"
"From what little I know about you, you seem to be working on it already."
"What can I-?"
"Did you enjoy sleeping with April?"
My eyes went to my lap. I crushed out the cigarette. "Yes", I whispered.
"Will you sleep with her again?"
I hesitated. "I have to."
"No one has to do anything."
"I am not a lesbian", I said with determination.
"I never said you were."
