Chapter 2 -- Cara and Keiji meet...in his car.
I decided to skip going back to the office; I knew the night was a bust and I was in no shape to sit over a box full of work papers. Instead I drove home from the middle school with a blur of tears wavering in and out of my vision. I couldn't seem to stop crying, just as I couldn't seem to stop myself from having sex with a stranger during my son's school play. I knew I would have to come up with a solid lie about my early departure to convince Evan -- there's no faking and making it with that kid. He even knew when I switched grape jelly brands on him at age two. (For future reference: He's a Welch's guy.)
As soon as I got home I stripped off my clothes (giving my sodden panties a lingering glance before I tossed them in the hamper) and got in the shower, hoping the hot water would soothe me. Still, I knew that what might be happening inside of me couldn't be changed by washing my skin.
As I stepped out of the shower my answer to Evan's inevitable questions came to me -- I heard Keiji's voice telling me about Sachi's bad cough. That was it! I'd tell my son I started to feel ill during the second act. Bad salad dressing from dinner, sure. To make it up to him I would go to the second showing tomorrow. With any luck, Keiji Nakamura would not be in attendance.
***
No such luck.
I woke up with leftover dream wisps of soft lips on mine and a hard cock taking me to the edge over and over. My pussy was sore in a knowingly satisfied sort of way. I cursed my traitorous subconscious and jumped straight into another shower, this one colder than last night's. As the water raised goose bumps on my skin I pondered Sachi avoidance tactics -- arrive early or arrive late? I doubted that Keiji had mentioned meeting me (Ha! "Meeting!") but I didn't think I could keep from turning bright red when I saw her, even if she was innocent of my liaison with her brother. Evan decided for me when he asked for a ride to the school for pre-show prep. I hung out backstage for as long as possible, enjoying the camaraderie of the drama club and watching the young makeup artists transform their friends into characters. Eventually it was time for me to join the audience. I took a deep breath and peeked around the curtain. Saturday's crowd was a bit smaller than Friday's, but it was still hard to pick out who was who. I'd just have to take my chances. I hurried down the center aisle and made my way into a middle row, hoping to blend in. The seats on my left and right filled up and I felt safe.
I fiddled with my phone to pass the remaining minutes before the start of the show. Imagine my delight when I heard a bright greeting (followed by a muffled cough).
"Cara! Hi! I'm so glad to see you here today! Aren't you super excited for Hana and Evan? I heard they were amazing! Were they amazing? Did you come to last night's show?" Sachi gushed as she made her way into the row behind me.
I turned around, and there he was. His face was like a tractor beam for my eyeballs and I couldn't stop myself from half-gaping at him. Once more he was the picture of casual perfection in a dark jean jacket and a chest-hugging sweater; his hair looked a bit wet as if he had recently emerged from a shower. Infuriatingly hot. (I had eschewed all makeup and dressed in an oversized hooded sweatshirt with threadbare leggings. I brushed my hair for Evan's sake.) We made brief eye contact and then he found something fascinating to look at in the stage light fixtures overhead.
"Um, ah, yes, I did. I mean, sort of, I kind of had to leave early. Got sick," I muttered. Sachi looked pained as she reached out to pat my shoulder.
"What a shame! I hate the fall! Everyone's sniffling around. And of course I'm not helping by showing up with my cold, but I can't miss my baby's first big production. I just can't. She's worked so hard!"
Sachi settled into her seat; she remembered her companion when he dropped into the seat next to her like a sack of flour. Now he opted to look at the floor instead of the ceiling. I was still unable to look away from him for more than ten seconds. When Sachi spoke again I willed myself to focus on her.
"Oh, jeez! Cara, I forgot to introduce my little brother, Keiji. People say we look a lot alike, hahaha, poor thing! He was here last night to rah-rah-rah for Hana in my place, but I'm taking these crazy pills for my cold and the bottle says you shouldn't drive and to be honest I feel like I could nod off any second. Anyway, he's my driver. And he's also a graphic designer, hahaha! Keiji, this is Cara Brennan, Evan's mom. I think you know Evan? He's been to my place a lot with the troupe. He's the lead boy!"
Sachi didn't sound like she was about to nod off. She sounded like she was on speed. Fortunately she was already rifling through her purse for another tissue and didn't notice Keiji and me umming and ahhing our way through acknowledging each other without actually looking, speaking, or touching.
I turned back to face the stage, embarrassed and fuming. Fuming because of what happened yesterday. Fuming because I was stupid enough to forget about the rows in front of and behind me. Fuming because just his presence in the room could make me feel like a horny teenager. Despite my negative emotions I had to fight an overwhelming urge to turn, just to see him once more. I crossed my legs and hunched forward in my seat, teeth gritted, determined to watch the damned play and be amazed by my amazing son and leave the school unsullied by any primal urges.
No such luck.
I wasn't able to shake a feeling of being watched, but I made it through the entire play without dwelling on Keiji. I'll pat myself on the back for that mental feat. To credit the kids and the director of the play, the performance was entertaining and lively. Keiji and I studiously ignored one another during intermissions; Sachi seemed lulled by the dim lights of the auditorium and didn't speak to me until the performance was over. The actual trouble came after the bows and applause (and a few maternal tears on my part, I must admit). Evan shook me off after one too many bear hugs and asked if he could go out with the rest of the drama kids for a celebratory pizza.
"Don't you have homework, Ev?" (I have to ask this question. Pretty sure it's in the baby handbook they give you at the hospital.)
"Mo-ooom. It's
Saturday
."
I tried.
"Okay, okay. Please be home before ten. I'd like to actually see you a little bit this weekend, Shakespeare." When Evan's brow furrowed in response to my gentle chiding I held up both hands and backed away, laughing. Fourteen isn't as tough as four, but I can't wait for fifteen. I hear it has 10% less angst. We exchanged goodbye waves and he turned to his friends. I headed for the parking lot, jingling my keys and doing my best not to look over my shoulder, as if Keiji Nakamura was susceptible to object impermanence.
I heard a plaintive call behind me just as my feet hit the pavement of the lot. "Cara, wait! Please."
Lalala, I can't hear you
...
A hand settled on my shoulder. I whirled around, fists raised.
