Words of the Week

Words of the week: Oneiric, Mores, Abscond, Flummery, Circumlocution, Vicissitude, Tchotchke, Inscrutable


I could have used the excuse of having to talk about business but the feeling of his hand over mine, his fingertips grazing my hand, I could think of nothing but the desire he made me feel. Mother and Daddy would both have been disappointed in me but I couldn't help what I felt. The mores of high society were clearly drawn in this regard---a man could have an affair and survive the fallout but a woman could not be the mistress and live with dignity.

Still, the thought of walking away from him and pretending that whatever chemistry I felt was nonexistent was all but inscrutable. If Faith were there she'd tell me I was playing with fire and likely to get burned. She might have told me that I wasn't ready to be an affair and I'd tell her that wasn't what I wanted.

He parked the car in front of an area of the beach that looked to be nothing but fun in the darkness of the night. A fire blazed with a few people standing around it. Guys were scattered around the area, all laughing and talking. A Frisbee was being thrown and tossed around, the bright green orb hypnotic in the dark sky.

We strolled down the beach, our hands dangling so close to one another that another centimeter or two and we would have been holding hands. The whole length of our walk I heard people referring to me as "Marcus' girlfriend".

"Marcus' girlfriend. Seems funny hearing those words together. I don't think I've ever heard that phrase uttered aloud." Kevin laughed. He led me to a beach towel spread halfway between the surf and the fire. He sat next to me, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm surprised people have given me the title. Marcus and I are just friends." I was tempted to tell him I was just recently out of a long term relationship but I refrained. From what I gathered from Marcus, even jocks read the tabloids and I'd been at the center of them for a long time.

Off to my left I could hear a man spewing a mouthful of flummery in an attempt to get his girlfriend to forgive him for some indiscretion. From the sound of the conversation, he would be sleeping on the couch or the doorway when he got home.

"We've had some wild and crazy times on the road. When you think about a bunch of guys on the road more than they're home with high testosterone and beautiful women falling down to get a chance for a night with one of us---that was Marcus' favorite part of the fame. That's a lot of guys favorite part." Kevin's voice was almost oneiric as if he were thinking back on some sordid mistake of his own.

"Your favorite part?" I asked, not really thinking about the question. I leaned closer, our eyes locked. The glow of the fire left his eyes looking like warm amber and I was completely transfixed by him.

For a moment he was silent, contemplating what to say. If I hadn't seen the sincerity burning in those eyes I might have guessed he was making up an appropriate answer. "My favorite part is providing for my family. I have three children. I have no worries for their future."

That was territory I knew nothing about. A man with children thinking about college. A man with a wife. A man who was probably old enough to be my father or at least a young uncle. It hadn't come up, but I guessed him at about forty.

"Faith tells me you're married. Have you had a chance to talk with your wife about our business proposal?" I hoped it sounded like a reasonable question but I wasn't quite sure if it worked. When I glanced away from him to the fire I could feel my thoughts as plainly as if I'd given them voice. Mother had taught me circumlocution as a tactful art but I'd forgotten the lesson under his gaze.

"Ah. Faith Holloway. Your friend is something else. Some weeks in the locker rooms are so tense with feuds because of her that we're lucky a match doesn't break out there." He didn't answer the question.

So I watched the surf crashing against the shore in an ill patterened vicissitude. Reaching so far up shore just to wallow back to the ocean. Salty foam exploding on the sand with each crash. Behind us, some 80's rock ballad drifted on the breeze.

When Kevin offered his hand I couldn't help myself. He was what I wanted. A dance. Any reason to get closer to him---to get close enough that our bodies touched and no one could read anything into it but an innocent dance. Oh, what I would give to abscond from the beach with him, to hide ourselves away in some little cove without peering eyes and only the moon to witness my desires.

His arms came around me. One big hand rested firmly on my back while the other cupped my right hand. Glowing embers from the fire cast shadows across us but his eyes were glowing with what I thought was the same desire and warmth I felt. Every ounce of my being wanted to fall into his arms and nestle against his massive chest, greedily inhale the scent of him, and press my lips against the warmth of his own.

Every instinct told me to run. Kevin was a married man and I was not the kind of woman to break up a home. I knew all too well just how devastating unfaithfulness could be.

"Having you hear tonight has made this little get together bearable." Kevin's voice was deep and husky.

"You're definitely a tempting man, Mr. O'Donnell." I whispered back. Slowly, I looked up and the moon caught my eyes. All the noise of the music and the voices and the rolling ocean waves seemed to disappear. My heart thundered in my chest. Even my skin tingled with anticipation as our lips moved closer, hovering mere centimeters apart. One big hand came up to my face, caressing my cheek as he ever so slowly pulled me closer to his kiss.

Only a millisecond from experiencing the only thing in the past six months I could truly recall craving, I heard that voice screech over the music. "Hey, Alexis, look what I picked up for you."

Both Kevin and I had to pull away from one another. Marcus was traipsing down the beach towards us, completely oblivious to what he'd just approached. Dangling from his fingertips, some tourist tchotchke necklace of sand shells.

"Don't be trying to steal my girl from me." Marcus smiled, still oblivious to the fact that I couldn't tear myself away from Kevin.