Full Circle: The love of a lifetime

“Dance for me like you danced for everyone else at the bar.” Mark pushed a tape into the media player. You can leave your hat on sang out from the speakers. He sat dead center on the couch like a strip club patron waiting for a private lap dance.

“That’s not the song we were dancing to.” I smiled, still buzzed from the booze.

“Help a guy out.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

I started to untuck my shirt in tempo with the music as I crossed the floor from kitchen to living room.

“Yes, like that.” He leaned back into the couch.

I pulled up my shirt, first one side, pulling it back down, then the other, a little peek-a-boo. Then I pulled up both sides and over my head, whipping it around above me for dramatic flair before sending it flying at Mark. He started to push his groin upwards. My dance was affecting him.

“Lose the bra.”

I turned my back to him and unclipped the strap, sliding it off my arms and dropping it onto the floor. I turned toward him, hands over breasts, equal parts tease and strip.

“Keep going,” he urged, undoing his pants.

If you’d told me a year earlier that I’d be performing a striptease for a man eight years my senior, I’d have laughed in your face. I’d had dreams, brains and plans. None of which were supposed to lead me here.

Chapter 1
ALWAYS LISTEN TO THE ALARMS

I pushed open the emergency exit and rushed into the field. It wasn’t the first time the lab filled with toxic fumes. Probably wouldn’t be the last. “They really need to replace that broken fume hood,” I said to my lab manager.

“I know that, and you know that, but the boss is cutting costs wherever he can.” My manager removed his heavy blue lab coat and safety glasses. “A fume hood that size cost thousands. I’ll talk to him again.”

I sat down in the grass, welcoming the blue sky and distraction. I stared at the oil stains on my worn Converse Cons, leftover from my high school basketball days. There still wasn’t money for new shoes. Those shoes had won me a trophy my senior year. Lexi and I had owned the gym floor in both volleyball and basketball. There wasn’t anything we couldn’t do.

The head lab tech sounded the all-clear and we returned to our stations. Though clean air would be nice, I appreciated the creature comforts in the lab, one of which was a squishy pad to stand on while I worked so I didn’t have to stand on concrete all day.

I watched the oil samples run through the glass tubes, checking the timers. I performed calf-raises off the side of the mat between samples. I jotted down data on the sample sheets and then changed the radio station to a better song. “What do you guys want to listen to?” I called across the lab.

My lab manager prepared samples for the giant mass spectrometer machine. “You decide,” he replied. “I don’t usually have music while I work.”

I smiled and turned down the volume on REM. Even though their new hit Losing my Religion was one of my favourite songs, I caught his hint. He was too nice to say it outright. Two other techs ran samples in the lab. Eight-hour shifts and nobody spoke. The alarms rang again.

“Shit! Come on!” I quickly finished my set of calf raises on the left leg. “I just got back in the groove.”

Back in the field, my manager sat down next to me. “Why do you work here?”

“Pardon me?” I shifted positions on the grass. ”It’s an internship for my course.”

“Yes, I know, but you’re not like our usual lab techs.”

“How do you mean?”

“No one in the lab talks. We all just work, eat lunch and go home. We are introverts. Extreme introverts. Science geeks. You’re outgoing. You should have a social job, somewhere where you work with people.”

“Funny. That was the original plan.”

‘All-clear’ rang out for the second time and it wasn’t even lunch. We straggled back into the building. I respected my manager. He was equally intelligent and kind. And he was right.

“Stacie?” Our receptionist met me as I re-entered the lab. “You have a visitor.”

I looked at my lab manager and shrugged my shoulders. “Who do I know in the city?” I washed my hands and headed through the door into the receptionist area: bright and cheery, not like the dim, cold concrete lab.

Standing in the middle of the room was Mark, dressed in a suit, holding a box of one dozen red roses: old-school.

“Hi, beautiful,” he oozed.

“What are you doing here?” I ushered him outside. My face flushed red.

“Move in with me.”

"What?!”

“Move in with me. We’ll live in the house on the golf course. We’ll save a fortune on phone bills.”

I saw my boss look out the window from his office above the reception area. “I have to go.” I crept back toward the door to satisfy my boss.

“I’ll call you tonight for your answer.” He handed me the box of roses and kissed me. He pressed his lips to my ear. “Move in with me. I want you.”

I quickly ducked back inside. “Can you put these somewhere for me please?” I handed the receptionist the box.

“I’ll keep them here for you.”

“Thank you.” I returned to my station, my face redder than before.

“A man in a suit brings you roses,” my lab manager teased on his way to the sample room.

No music. No calf-raises. I finished my work in silence. Well, except for the cacophony of comments in my head. I took this visit as yet another sign from the universe that this was my next step. A step out of the doldrums and into excitement.

By the end of the day, I’d given Jessica my notice and began packing up my things from the apartment we’d shared for less than a year. By the end of the month, Mark drove from the small town of Red Deer into the city of Calgary with his truck to load my dresser and the single bed once lovingly on loan to me from Kyle’s parents. Then we made the return trip.

Mark and I turned off the gravel road and into the short driveway. Kyle’s mom and dad stood waiting outside. I felt sick to my stomach. Mark didn’t seem to notice. He jumped out of the truck and started unloading the small bed. I couldn’t make eye contact with Kyle’s parents. They had the same response.

“Thank you for lending it to me,” I managed.

“Mmm, mmm,” was all they could say.

Who could blame them? They’d loved me like a daughter. I felt like I’d broken their hearts along with Kyle’s. I hadn’t seen him since that night. For two years, he’d been my love, best friend and companion. He would have never hurt me, but I hurt him deeply. And I had to live with that, which I told myself was easier to do now that I lived with Mark.

Chapter 2
LONG HOT SUMMER

“Don’t say anything, Doug,” Mom said to Dad as they walked off the driving range. I’m certain she never meant for me to hear her words. “Keep your mouth shut or we’ll lose her.”

I walked up from Mark’s house to meet them.

“So.” Mom hugged me. “How’s the house?”

“It’s super cute.” I hugged her back, then Dad.” Hi Dad.”

“Mmm, hmmm.” He hugged me back. “Your mother says I’m not supposed to say anything.”

That was Dad, what you saw was what you got. He spoke his mind. He was actually my step-dad, but I’d never called him that. He was just Dad to me. It must’ve nearly killed him to hold his tongue. But the one thing he respected more than his own opinion, was Mom. He knew she was right. Telling me that my choice was wrong wouldn’t push me to make a different choice, it would only push me away.

“Are you joining us for dinner?” Mom walked alongside me, pulling her clubs with her cart. I knew she’d rather her eighteen- year-old daughter hadn’t shacked up with a twenty-seven-year-old, but I also knew she was happy to have me home from the big city. Well, home was relative. Definitely not a tiny house on the ninth hole.

“Sure,” I answered. “Mark’s not done work till ten. I’d love to join you guys for dinner.” As awkward as it was, I felt strangely strong. Maybe it was leaving the demons of the city behind that fortified me.

As I accompanied Mom into the women’s locker room, I remembered the day I’d packed up my room on the farm and headed to Calgary for school. And Kyle. It had only been a year. The excitement that day of leaving home for the first time blinded me to the challenges of life on my own in the city.

No longer a starving student struggling through my first year of post-secondary in a city that swallowed me whole, I welcomed the reprieve that life with Mark afforded me. My feet were back on familiar ground and I had a new adventure to look forward to. Surrounded by trees and river, family and good food, my financial burden eased as did my mind: stressed from school and work. The only thing that tugged at the back of my heart was my conscience. I’d left Kyle behind in the city.

Chapter 3
ONE BIG PARTY

I heaved the mattress off of the bed. I pulled on the straps along the side to drag it through the doorway, but it was like trying to steer a monstrous marshmallow. I climbed over and shoved it through from the other side of the door frame, then dragged it down the hallway, hauled it into the living room and dropped it in the middle of the floor. I lit the candles on top of the TV and put on my favourite music: Seal’s latest CD.

I returned to the bedroom and opened my top dresser drawer, well, the drawer that Mark had allocated for me in his dresser. I Didn’t really own any lingerie. I guess the thong and bra will have to do. I slipped off my clothes and into a black G-string with a bit of detail on the trim. An athlete, I didn’t own any frilly feminine things. Kyle wasn’t someone I’d had to impress or arouse. He’d taken me as I was, every time. We were friends first, lovers second.

The Scorpio in the bottle, however, had been unleashed and all I could think about was a steamy night with Mark. I knew the nature of my astrological sign from years of reading my horoscope, but horny was not my natural state, until now. Sex consumed my thoughts. Maybe because that’s how our relationship started. And it moved at breakneck speed. I heard the door and crossed the small kitchen to see Mark fumbling with the handle. I opened it for him.

“Wow!” He exclaimed, taking in my body and modest attire. He held two pitchers of margaritas, one in each hand.

“You’re off early,” I said.

“It appears we both have the same idea.” He noticed the mattress on the floor of the living room. He set the pitchers on the kitchen table. “Have a drink. I’ll get changed.”

I opened the cupboard to find glasses, retrieving two from above the stove. I began to pour a glass for each of us when Mark returned to the kitchen wearing only a pair of black track pants.

“Fuck the glasses.” He poured the margarita back into the jug and opened a drawer. He fished around until he found two straws. Tucking one into each pitcher, he handed a jug to me. “Cheers.” He sucked the sweet cocktail into his mouth while he stared at my G- string as if he relied on the liquid courage to get him started.

The cocktail of hormones was enough for me. I’d be nineteen in the fall. And though I was no stranger to sex, I’d not felt with Kyle the way I felt with Mark. My nipples grew hard under Mark’s gaze. Like a watchful hunter, he noticed the subtle movement of my small breasts and landed his aim on them. Having sucked back a third of his margarita, he set the pitcher down on the kitchen table and had his mouth on my breast before I could respond.

His tongue flicked at my nipple. I felt my G-string grow wet and placed my pitcher on the table before I dropped it on the floor. Mark’s hands held my back, pushing my breasts into his mouth. My hands found his shoulders. I felt his left hand slide around my waist and along my hip flexor. With one finger, he slipped my G-string away from my vagina while another finger slipped inside me. I gasped as a rush of adrenaline coursed through me. It was almost unbearable. He took his mouth off my breast and looked up at me, pleased with himself. I squirmed under his watch. That seemed to excite him even more as he dropped to his knees and held my G-string to the side of my crotch, his eyes still on my face.

Warmth and wetness pulsed through my vagina. I heard my breath shake. He removed his finger and licked it. With an unwavering stare, he pushed his tongue out of his mouth and into my crotch, flicking my clit as he had my nipples. I closed my eyes to escape his gaze and pushed down into his shoulders while my body began to arch and grind as it had that fateful night with him on the dance floor.

He flicked his tongue faster while he drove his fingers into me. I climaxed before we’d even gotten to the mattress. He picked me up and carried me the few feet to the living room, placing me on the mattress. He slid off his pants, staring at my glistening vagina. I spread my legs wide in response. His erection greeted my thigh as he climbed on top, then inside me. A second orgasm crested while he thrust again and again. I moaned aloud which served to stimulate his thrusting harder and faster. The smell of sex filled the room.

Finally, he grabbed the mattress in both fists and let out a cry of satisfaction. His movement slowed to quick pulses, then stopped. He buried his head in my chest. My legs quivered. He rolled off of me and onto the mattress. We stayed like that for some time, catching our breath before Mark retrieved the pitchers of margaritas and we continued the party.

Chapter 4
BACK TO WORK

“One, two, three, shot!” I tipped my glass up and drained the green liquid into my mouth. Cold at first, then burning my throat, it smelled and tasted like one of those pine air fresheners you hang from the rearview mirror of your car. You know, the tree-shaped one.

“Welcome to the absinthe club,” said the bartender, collecting our shot glasses. “Have a good shift.”

Having left my internship in the city, I needed a job. It wasn’t too hard to find a waitressing gig in my hometown. I landed one at the steakhouse, the Keg, the fanciest place to dine in Red Deer. A meal there was reserved for special occasions: birthdays, anniversaries or Christmas parties. The last time I’d eaten there was when Lexi and I privately celebrated our high school graduation, class of ‘89, which I’d missed to go study French in Quebec. I hadn’t seen Lexi since. She moved to Edmonton for University.

My throat still on fire from the shot, I left the dimly lit bar for the even dimmer restaurant. I tied the signature black apron around my waist and walked the dark wooded corridor to my section to check my tables before the doors officially opened to diners. Only dinner was served and not before 5 PM.

A large stone-faced fireplace lit the center of the maze, while sconces like medieval torches, hung from the walls. To the diners, it was the perfect mood-setting fine dining experience. To me, the dim light concealed the stains and imperfections of a well-frequented restaurant.

I caught a flash of light from under one of the tables. I bent down to retrieve a fork, overlooked by the day cleaners. I walked back into the kitchen, tossed it in the dirty cutlery bin and grabbed a cloth to polish wine glasses.

It wasn’t the trajectory I’d planned. None of the previous year was what I’d envisioned for myself. What my soul had longed for was to go to Paris after my summer studying in Québec. My love of languages was to lead me to France, a job as an Au Pair, and the opening of Europe, more languages, art, culture, cafés and limitless possibilities.

Here I was, waitressing in my hometown wasting my potential. But I no longer needed to take my calculator to the grocery store with me or wait in a field for toxic fumes to escape the lab. Life in Calgary was over.

I soon learned what the life of the restaurant service crowd was like: shots to start your shift, drinks after at the bar, closing down your own then usually moving on to the local clubs to continue the night. Sex with Mark followed each shift and sleeping the morning away until the next shift. Tips were good and life was easy. There was always someone to have a drink with. I guess my lab manager was right, I was too social to be stuck in a lab.