If Only

  Chapter Two

  That was a noble attempt, Katherine thought as she opened the door to the room. Such a glutton, trying to finish that exquisite champagne cake after the full meal, but it was heavenly, although it would certainly do devilish damage to her figure. Oh, well, she excused herself, she was on vacation and Frank would never again tell her she should watch her weight, consider her health, etc. etc. If she followed through with her plans of living alone the rest of her life, it wouldn’t matter to anyone how she appeared. In fact, she might be better off with a few defensive pounds to keep away any unwanted suitors. That might help should she lower her resistance. There had already been a few of the local single men seeking her attention. Most of them were divorced and just looking for a momentary conquest, while there were a few widowers endeavoring to gain a companion or more likely a cook and housekeeper. That wasn’t for her. She might miss her husband and definitely miss her daughters, but she was enjoying her comparative freedom.

  It was strange to be able to undress right in the middle of the bedroom, not tucked away in the bathroom as Frank preferred, as if they were not married, just roommates. It was almost as if she were a woman of sin. Just for fun, she threw her clothing on the floor and reached into her suitcase to get the hot pink silk pajamas Jessica had purchased as a gift for her for this vacation. They were a far cry from her usual sensible cover-all flannel or cotton nightgowns. Those were the kind that hid almost every square inch of her body. Another of Frank’s requests as he preferred she never acted like a wife, not in that sense. In all their years, she had never been able to discover the secret that caused him to reject a real marriage. Of course, there were many suppositions on her part, but she never really knew. Frank just refused to discuss anything.

  He would just hold up his hand in a gesture that said stop. “I will not discuss that with anyone. You were aware of my feelings when we married. Enough!” he didn’t shout, but he might as well have. Any further discussion would only bring on being rebuked by him. It wasn’t worth it.

  “Stop it,” she commanded the neat side of herself. “Don’t you dare pick up those clothes, not tonight. The king size bed was inviting her to turn down that crimson velvet spread and climb in between the soft cotton sheets; Madonna pink again.

  “Mmm,” Katherine sighed as she nestled in the warmth of the covers, luxuriating in the feeling of the silk pajamas. Not quite ready for sleep and hesitating to turn on the modern television hidden in the cabinet, her mind drifted back to her thoughts when she had seen the portraits of the owners of this fantasy hotel. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought of him since their last meeting so many years ago. She had. Whenever she was lonely, lacking in love or just in need of a pleasant thought, she reached back in her memory to bring him forward. Many were the night he invaded her dreams and her heart. Kathy could always close her green eyes and see his deep blue ones gazing at her with so much love. The dark brown waves and hints of a curl here and there insisted she run her hand through his hair. If she thought hard enough, she could again be in his muscular arms, held against his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart. Charles was so tall that the top of her head barely reached up to his chin, but that didn’t matter. In fact, if there were anything wrong about him, she didn’t see it or care. The only wrong was that she could only recall him as she had last seen him twenty years ago. That dark hair would be graying, the blue eyes might have lost that soft sparkle; even those muscular arms might not be as brawny. Kathy had often tried to picture him as he might be now, but failed due to choice, perhaps. It was easier just to remember him as he had been with her years ago and herself as the young naïve girl that she had been then.

  Another salty drop escaped, coursing down her cheek onto the pillow. This wide lonely bed. Kathy should have been recalling Frank, but their marriage had been without love, just a convenience for both of them. Their mutual agreement had been made few weeks prior to their wedding and neither had broken that arrangement. Frank was quite firm that he was willing to take care of Kathy and her daughter asking nothing but the façade of them being a good family. Katherine felt that something must have happened a long time prior to his meeting her, other than the death of his wife. He did want a home, but no other family, other than the one child of hers and his only daughter, only a week older than her own. Due to the slight difference in ages, Kathy had to tell both girls that she was a stepmother and that Frank was a stepfather. But no more was discussed.

  “No more pain,” he had said anytime anything came up.

  At first, Kathy had tried to make something out of the marriage, but again, Frank was firm. He treated her with respect, provided well. But once it was certain that he would not father a child, that part of the marriage was never begun. Kathy never again attempted to be a wife in the bedroom. They slept in twin beds to give their daughters some semblance of a normal marriage. Kathy was free to remember her only love, although she knew she shouldn’t do even that. The only days, the only nights of ecstasy had been during the year before she had met Frank. Katherine sighed and closed her eyes. At least she had her memories, dreams and her fantasies to alleviate the dull existence; although there were times she wished she could forget her lost love. How many times had she caught herself alone recalling those days with tears in her eyes? It was such a beautiful love. He was such a perfect lover and he was lost to her for all time. Never would she have anything more than the exquisite memories.

  Silk again, this time Katherine was wearing a deep navy blue silk dress, very form fitting (and then, she had the form) with white fur cuffs around the sleeves. She was wearing navy blue heels and carried a matching bag, an outfit she hadn’t worn (or fit into) for so many years. Waiting, Kathy knew she was waiting for someone, although she didn’t recognize the place. A car pulled up and she slid inside knowing this was the right vehicle. It was him. No one else had that smile, that look, those eyes, oh those exciting tempting blue eyes. What was she doing here with Charles? The mirror in the car showed her to be much younger, at least twenty years younger. No words passed, but it seemed as if they were suddenly in different bars, having only one beer at each of the few places. Kathy knew that she didn’t drink at all, but he placed a Millers in front of her and himself.

  Suddenly, they were close together in the front seat of the car and his arms were around her, holding her close, his lips coming down on hers. The warmth that flowed through her body was familiar, exciting. Every inch of her being was on fire, again. What a wonderful feeling! A question was being asked and Kathy knew that she had agreed. They were at the top of a long flight of steps leading to a small stretch of deserted beach. He held her hand as he guided her down the stairs. Gently, ever so gently, he leaned her back on the warm sand. Sounds of the waves crashing onto large rocks invaded her thoughts. This was a fantasy, a romantic moment only known of in tales, in dreams. Katherine’s long auburn hair spread around her head on the sand. The moonlight broke through the clouds as shafts of golden moonbeams highlighted them.

  “Oh, Charles,” was all she could murmur, her hands driving into his dark hair. “I,” she stammered. How could she being to tell him that this was the very first time she had actually known satisfaction? “Charles,” she sighed. Never had she experienced such heights of passion that set her body on fire and so much after-contentment. How much she had missed in her short young life. And it was gone… Never again to know that passion, that thrill when he held her close.

  Katherine was still breathless when she opened her eyes, deep in the memory of her dream. She had thought of him many times, but rarely like that, especially in the past years. Kathy sat up in bed, catching her breath, wondering why the memory of her first time with him had been so vivid; why now? Perhaps it was that she had finally put the marriage and death behind her, determined to go on with her life as she had done so many years ago.

  Oddly enough, they had been thrown together with an argument and torn apart by another.

 
Just a few weeks past her twenty- first birthday, she had taken a job as a waitress in a local coffee shop. Inexperienced, she talked her way into the job by lying about her experience (or lack of it) and was in a panic when the men from the local milk company came in on their midnight dinner break. Most of the men were sympathetic with her obvious youthful lack of training and verbally assisted her through the first terrifying experience. They would give their order and then tell her where things were, after she placed their order with the cook. No one became angry or annoyed. Right in the middle of the rush, he walked in. Never would she have believed in love at first sight, but there was something about him.

  A few nights later on her evening off, she had gotten into the usual argument with the besotted male that was the chosen spouse of her youth. Drunk and abusive, he ordered her to get out and leave him alone with his bottle. Left with no other viable choice, she walked to the coffee shop to drown her own sorrows in a cup of coffee.

  When she was sitting at the very back of the shop in a darkened, unused corner, she was surprised to see the man from the milk company come in the back door out of uniform.

  “Hello,” he came over to her. “Hi there, got room for me at your table?”

  “I_mmm…sure.” Nothing like an intelligent conversation to impress someone. “Are you working tonight?” That was a brilliant question.

  “No,” his slow smile made her heart quicken. At least he didn’t laugh at her absurd nervous question. “I see you’re here at work too. Nothing better to do?”

  “I well, yes we were supposed to go out this evening, but...I guess you could say he started without me.”

  Charles raised a quizzical eye, “You mean he was drinking, perhaps too much?”

  “Perhaps, hell. Oops, I ‘m sorry. But never mind my problem. That is what it is; my problem and I shouldn’t bother you with that kind of nonsense. What about you? Apparently, tonight is your night off. No better place than this gourmet restaurant?”

  “I had planned on going fishing on my only night off, but she kept screaming that I was going out with some female. If I went out as often as she thought, I would be exhausted or even dead. I really just wanted to go fishing. I don’t cheat on her.”

  “You don’t have to convince me.” Katherine rose with her empty cup. “Here, let me get you a cup and re-fill mine.” She knew the other waitress was on her break and wouldn’t mind the help.

  “Still waiting on me? How nice.” Charles rose slightly as she left the table. What a gentleman, she thought. He actually seems like a gentle man. Too bad he is faithful, probably loves his wife very much in spite of her jealousy. Could be she even had reason. After all, he was here with her. Stop that, Kathy, she said to herself. It isn’t as if you’ve ever cheated or ever would. She had been raised to stay married and stay constant to her vows although it was becoming more difficult daily. Glancing back, even in the dim light, his muscular features stood out. Why did he have to be so appealing?

  “Your coffee, sir, and will there be anything else?” she quipped setting the cup down in front of him. Stop looking at me with those devastating eyes of enticing blue, she begged silently.

  “Yes, sit down and talk with me. It seems as if we have something in common. Please? “He gestured to the seat opposite him.

  “Okay, I know,” she sighed. There was no point in complaining about their respective mates. The few explanations were sufficient. No doubt her husband was a drunk and she hadn’t mentioned the abuse. His wife might be a shrew or just a bit jealous and maybe justifiably. “Tell me more about yourself other than your marriage.”

  “Well, I have a son,” there was so much pride is his voice. “Charles Jr. is 6 years old, looks just like me except he is very smart. He’ll never be content just to do a laborer’s job. I’ll see to that. Would you like to see his picture?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled out a photo of a miniature version of himself. His son was a handsome youngster with a father obviously proud of what he described as the perfect son. “Do you have children?”

  “No, not yet. We don’t have the best of relationships.” Kathy found him so easy to talk to, as if he were her best friend. “I want a child, but I lost a son and nothing since.” She didn’t want to tell him that she lost her baby as a result of her husband pushing her away from him and her falling down the stairs during her seventh month. Most of the time, her husband passed out in a drunken stupor long before any thought of lovemaking. For that she was often quite grateful. She shuddered at the thought of that man trying his poor attempt at lovemaking. How could it be called that when all that happened was that the man would push himself on her, breath nauseating and either quickly getting it done or him passing out? Lovemaking? Hardly.

  “I understand,” his voice was tender. “I’m from a large family and would love to have a dozen more children, but she says our son is enough for now. She did have a bad time and right now, her career is important to her.”

  “There we go, berating our spouses. Let’s stick to talking of anything else. Surely, we have different things we can discuss. Where are you from originally? Tell me of this big family, your home.”

  The hours flew by, Charles talking about his many brothers, his home way back in the hills of South Carolina, his dad who made good ol’ moonshine, the best white lightning in the state. They smiled, laughed until tears almost flowed. Like long lost friends, they shared memories and dreams. Afraid of disapproval and rejection, she had never told anyone of her desire to paint, to create a work of art. He only encouraged her dream as she did his of owning his own business, some day.

  Catching them so totally engrossed in each other, the heavy set black female cook came to their table. “Chile,” she said, talking to Charles, “those men you work wif are gonna be comin’ in any minute and you knows what they gonna say about you two setting together like you is doing. Yo shore don’ need that, so you scat yourselves out of here ‘til theys gone.”

  Without waiting for her acquiescence, Charles grabbed her hand and pulled her out the back door. He knew all too well what the sight of them just sitting together would do to her reputation. Then every guy in the plant who was so disposed, would be after her for a one night stand or just treat her as a tramp. “Get in, please.” He requested opening his car door. Quickly, he drove down the street to park under a large tree away from the light of the street lamps.

  “Charles," she whispered. “Please drive over to the next street. That is my house over there.”

  Again he drove a short distance to another street and parked under the dark of a large tree. Immediately, he began laughing. “I guess I’m not cut out to be a cheat, not parking in front of your husband’s home.”

  “That could have happened to anyone. And, we’re not cheating, just friends sharing over a cup of coffee. I know he would never believe that.”

  “I’m sure you know what you’re talking about there.” He stopped for a minute as if lost in thought. “Okay, I will. I shouldn’t, but I will. Can you get off some night and go out with me? I know_, before she had a chance to answer, “you don’t cheat and neither have I, and that is not my intention, but don’t you think we deserve some pleasant association? Wait, think about it first,” still no opportunity to respond. “I enjoy your company. It’s not cheating, just having fun with someone who enjoys my company as I enjoy her friendship. I can take off any night you can get off. Just tell him you’re working and I will give you the money you would earn so he won’t suspect. No, I don’t mean anything wrong. I just want to be with you. Don’t say no.”

  Kathy smiled. “If you had given me half a chance, you wouldn’t have to waste all those arguments. How about tomorrow night? I’m off, although I can tell him I have to work and I do know what you mean. We both just need a friend. And no, you won’t pay me to be with you.”

  The next night Katherine spent what seemed like hours to look her best, primping, changing lipstick colors, never satisfied. She kept reminding herself
that it was just a friendly encounter. They had already agreed to remain casual. So why was she taking so much care in her appearance? “I want him to admire me,” she answered herself. “It would be nice just to have some male think I am pretty, for a change, perhaps even say something nice to me.” Finally she dressed in her simple black and white uniform while packing a change of clothing, the blue silk dress trimmed with white fur, in a large black purse. Silk would take the abuse of being crunched in a large bag without making her look as if she had forgotten what to iron it. Again, and thankfully this time, her husband had come home too drunk to care that she had to work all night. Luck was on her side. She had left early enough to have time to change again in the bar where they had planned to meet. Although she knew there were hundreds of flaws in her appearance, all he could do was open up those enticing blue eyes and say a simple, “wow.” It was more than enough.

  At times, she could tell you every incident, every word spoken on that night. At other times, it was all a blur except for the lovemaking on the beach. In the years she had been married, she had never experienced such ecstasy. Orgasm was such a crude sounding word for such a thrilling feeling, but it was her first and a night she could never, ever forget.

  Even at that moment, the memory brought her a shiver to her body. “I guess if that single year was all the pleasure one could know in life, it would have to be enough. It did seem unfair that the brief time with him would be all the happiness she would ever recall. Katherine was certain that few women would know moments like those shared with him. “Oh, Kathy, get on with your life. You have dreams to fulfill, paintings to accomplish, a life to live and he’s gone out of your life forever.” She admonished herself as she started picking up the clothing she had thrown off the evening before. Seating herself at the desk, she began to write her daily list of things to do. Old habits die hard, she thought as she listed- have breakfast-take walk around grounds-drive to Montana de Oro and decide what to paint-take photos-have dinner in dining room at Inn. Skip lunch! That command was underlined. She felt she had to do something constructive to attempt to keep the weight at an acceptable figure. There, that would take care of today.

  Another major decision; what to wear? The need for sensible walking shoes limited her somewhat. A sweater would also be necessary and she had brought only two; black and gray. A little tired of the widow’s lack of color, she chose the other requiring her to pick complimentary dark slacks of charcoal gray. Now all that was needed was a blouse of a bright color like the silk red one, another of her daughter’s choices. A large gray bag would hold all she needed for the day including her camera and sketchpad.

  A myriad of multi-colored flowers greeted her as she walked down the hill to the main building. This time, she skirted the side door and walked around enjoying the colorful garden of pink, white, lavender, gold. Beside another entrance were fountains in small rock pools on either side. Katherine noted the many coins at the bottom of the fountains. So many wishes; hopefully some of them had come true. Taking out a quarter, she threw it in t he larger of the two pools. If a penny will get one wish, I need a bunch, she thought.

  The doors were ornately carved with scenes of the inn while the windows told stained glass stories of the place. Multi-colors danced across the rose patterned carpet. Above her head, a Victorian doll, about three feet tall, dressed in a spring gown of white with purple lilacs, stood on the swing moving over the pink and red dining room. Steps led up to what Kathy knew to be both the men’s and the women’s gift shops, but it was only eight o’clock and they didn’t open until ten. Besides, the growl from her stomach threatened to grow loud enough to disturb the many other patrons.

  Hot coffee in the attractive blue willow cup, she tried to pretend she was not impatient while waiting on a rather large breakfast of an enticing Fiesta Omelet enhanced by melt-in-your-mouth biscuits. The table itself was covered in gleaming copper and set with vari-colored glasses, incorrect, but perfect. Although there was a basket of sugar and suggested sweet and low, Kathy reached for the inviting shaker of Madonna pink crystalline sugar for her coffee. Looking through the stained glass window, she saw the garden from a different angle and wondered how she could ever leave when the time came. No matter how hard she tried in her home in Arizona, she could never even create a semblance of this breathtaking garden.

  Again settled in the arms of the blue princess, Kathy headed for the famous Montana de Oro, the mountain of gold (California poppies). Determined to follow through with her dreams of painting the wildest place on the California seashore, she told her mind to forget about the fantasy of the night. He was lost to her forever by her own choice and never again would she allow his memory to hinder her life.