Hi Readers. I'm thinking I have 2 more weeks to wrap up this story before the real one begins to unfold again. (Or maybe I will change my mind on that since I'm a super slow writer!) Anyway, hope you enjoy this latest installment. I have to admit, I was lazy about incorporating other characters into this chapter. I have a promising idea about Emma's social attitudes and sexual confidence evolving through her interactions with a new group of friends (book club), but I didn't take the opportunity to start it in this chapter. Oh well! As always, thanks for taking the time to review!
-X-
Chapter 13: A Long Picnic
Emma unlocked the front door to her building and inhaled the invigorating scent of Pine Sol. She sighed on the way to her mailbox, noting the same old streaks and missed corners in the freshly, but not skillfully, mopped lobby. While removing a few envelopes, she noticed a small package on the table addressed to her. It was about the size of a shoebox, but she couldn't recall ordering shoes recently.
Oh my goodness! she realized as she snatched it off the table, furtively scanning for neighbors. Satisfied that no one was watching, she peeked at the return address: "Acme Products, Inc." Subtle, she thought sarcastically. Is it worse for my neighbors to believe I'm a sexual deviant or to think I have plans to foil the Road Runner? She chuckled nervously, partly trying to ease her discomfort with the scary item she was holding in her hands.
She dashed up half a flight of stairs to her door, dropping her keys three times in a hurried attempt to get inside. She left her bags on the floor of the entryway and walked directly to her desk. Emma opened the top drawer and didn't even pause to appreciate the elegantly sorted trays. She grabbed her sharpest scissors and began to stab at the package.
When the flaps finally popped open, Emma stopped and stared. She remembered how she had placed the order from her home computer just two short days ago. Wednesday to be precise. The day Will told her he thought her performance of Toucha Toucha Touch Me was hot.
She had found a reasonably tasteful web store, specializing in women's pleasure goods. Uneasy with the prospect of browsing, she ordered a "Staff favorite" from the home page-one that resembled the male anatomy reasonably well except for the odd purple hue. After the transaction went through, she uninstalled her browser and cancelled the credit card she used. Never can be too safe, she reflected.
Emma took a deep breath as she reached for the gleaming purple silicone replica of a man's penis.
My very own hose monster, she declared just before she stuffed it back into the mangled box, ran to her bedroom, and slammed the door shut.
She decided to wash her face before approaching the purple monster again.
It's not alive, for pete's sake, she chastised herself in the mirror.
Emma dawdled in the bathroom for a few more minutes then wandered back to her living room, bypassing the desk without a glance, heading straight to the kitchen. She decided this was an occasion for a glass of wine.
Sauvignon Blanc in hand, she returned to the desk, lifted the box, and placed it carefully on the coffee table. She sat down on the couch and glared at the brown cardboard while she sipped her "liquid courage," as Shannon had called it.
Emma was both intrigued and horrified as she fidgeted in her seat. I'm being ridiculous, she admitted. She put her glass down on a coaster and reached for the box. She pulled out the plastic package, closed her eyes, and placed it on her lap. Without looking down, she took another sip of wine, and steeled herself for what was starting to feel like a scientific experiment.
Emma peered down at her lap and giggled. The plastic penis was bigger than she had imagined-maybe eight inches-and oddly curved. It was a translucent purple and almost jelly-like. At the base was a plastic knob of some sort, no doubt controlling the highly touted "variable vibration" feature.
Curiosity piqued, she decided to free it from its plastic prison, which turned out to be more difficult than it should have been. She cursed the packaging, at the same time appreciating its sanitary value.
When Emma finally gripped the vibrator in her hand, she laughed again. She squeezed it gently, noting that the gel felt weird. Up close, she could see that they went so far as to simulate veins, adding ridges and bumps all over the shaft. She cracked herself up picturing a male model being asked to keep it up a bit longer so they could form the mold.
Her overall impression was that it was ugly and much too large, particularly the width. If real ones were this large, she had every right to be scared.
Emma looked at the clock and realized she was going to be late for book club. She tucked her new toy away in her underwear drawer and finished getting ready. She resolved to visit it again when she returned.
-X-
Later that night, as she got ready for bed, Emma eyed her underwear drawer with some trepidation. She wasn't sure she was ready to spend more time with the purple...instrument, but she convinced herself she needed to learn more about the alien appendage. She pulled it out of the drawer, noticing the chemical scent for the first time. She decided to cleanse it in the bathroom sink.
Emma turned on the hot water and pumped soap into her hand, holding the vibrator in the other hand. She ran it under a stream of hot water and wrapped her hand around the length. Emma didn't even realize she was stroking it until she noticed the foamy suds seeping through her fingers. She blushed, but didn't stop. She concentrated on the rugged texture of the shaft versus the smooth softness of the tip and wondered if her technique was correct. More importantly, she wondered how Will liked it. She blushed again.
Emma rinsed and dried the toy and carefully placed it back in her top drawer. They had become better acquainted than she had planned and she felt an odd combination of disgust and pride.
With no toys required, Emma slipped between her sheets and began to imagine that it was Will she had been stroking. And for the first time since Carl had left, she allowed herself release.
-X-
Unfortunately, Emma's relaxation exercise failed to hold over until morning. She awoke a bundle of nerves, thinking about her lunch with Will. In all the time they had known each other, they hadn't gotten together during the weekend. She rolled over and began to consider what she should wear.
It was going to be another beautiful spring day. She tried on many outfits, ranging from a sundress (too summery) to yoga pants (too casual) to khakis with a twin set (too stuffy). She settled on a pair of jeans and a cap-sleeved chartreuse shirt. She knew how much Will loved her in green and it was her favorite new top. It was soft, decorated around the scooped neckline and down the front with loose fabric flowers, and relatively low cut by her standards. When she tried it on, it made her feel sexy. The only problem was that she still had 6 hours to fill.
-X-
Emma arrived at Ross Park 15 minutes early and saw that Will was already there. He was setting up a blanket in a sunny, somewhat private spot, not far from a grove of pines. A warm feeling engulfed her tummy, obliterating whatever nerves were lingering. He looked absolutely adorable in jeans and a red tee shirt and she couldn't wait to see him.
She slung her tote bag over her shoulder, locked the car, and walked casually in his direction. He saw her coming and gave her a huge welcome smile. She pushed her sunglasses up onto her head, hoping they were holding her hair back in the cute way she had practiced in the mirror.
It looked like it was working because Will stared at her tongue tied. She broke the ice.
"Hi!"
"Hi," he managed to respond.
"So what's in the sack?" she asked, eyes trained on an object behind him. "Looks like a dead body."
Will followed her gaze and turned around, forgetting for a moment the giant bag of sports equipment he had hauled from his car.
Slowly, he regained his wits.
"Yeah, it's Sue. I finally iced her," he joked.
"Couldn't you have disposed of the body before you got here?" Emma said.
"I figured you would want to participate," Will replied cleverly.
"Good point," she deadpanned.
"So are you going to tell me what's really in there?" Emma asked, stepping closer to him.
He yanked the bag into an upright position, untied it, and pulled out the first item.
"A soccer ball?" she observed. "Cute."
"I used to be a pretty good player, you know."
"Uh huh," she replied, unimpressed. "What else do you have in there?"
She joined him to peek into the bag as he sifted through a frisbee, wiffle ball and bat, football, water gun, bocce set, and some other things she didn't even recognize.
"Will, I didn't know you were so sporty," she commented.
He smiled as he pulled out a wooden paddle.
"Oh my gosh, you have Kadema! Emma exclaimed. "I love that game! I used to play with my brother for hours. Our record was 146 rallies!"
He grinned at her, amused.
"I can't believe I remember that," she said, self-consciously replaying her outburst in her mind.
"I can," he teased.
"So what do you think? Should we try to beat it?" he asked mischievously.
"Yeah!" she said, throwing her bag on the blanket and grabbing the paddle from his hands.
-X-
After what seemed like an hour of trying, their best rally was 93 and Will had to convince Emma to stop. Her competitive streak was adorable (and she was surprisingly coordinated), but he was hungry.
They sat down on the blanket together and Will opened his cooler. Emma was dying to know what was inside.
The first item he pulled out was a bottle of wine. This is going to be interesting, she thought.
He smiled bashfully and told her about his visit to Pairings, a local gourmet store and wine shop. They helped him select food for a picnic and suggested a nice bottle of white wine that he didn't dare pronounce. He handed it to her.
Emma took the bottle from him and said, in impeccable German, "Gewurztraminer."
"Huh, I've never had this one," she remarked as she studied the label.
"You've had one at all?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah. I guess that's something we haven't really talked much about, but Carl is a bit of a wine snob."
Will looked crestfallen, but recovered with a mildly interested, "Mm hmm."
"I have to admit, I'm hooked," Emma admitted. "Do you want me to uncork it?"
Will reached out for the bottle and said, "No, that's my job."
He opened the wine, poured two glasses, and handed one to Emma.
They clinked glasses and smiled sweetly at each other.
Emma sipped her wine. Will took a long gulp, draining half the glass in one swallow.
She gave him a half-amused, half-disapproving look.
"Mmmmmmm...," he began, raising his head and adopting a haughty tone. "Musky with a strong overtone of passion fruit and perhaps a hint of coriander."
Emma rewarded him with a flirty laugh and said, "I think someone is a little jealous."
He shrugged. "Old habits die hard."
"Apparently this tastes better with strong cheese, but I didn't want to eat it without you so they recommended olives instead," he told her while setting out a plate of crackers and a container of olives with toothpicks.
Emma continued to sip her wine as she watched him eat. He had a lightness about him that she hadn't observed in a while. Like in his proudest moments with the Glee club, he exuded a sense of boundless optimism and almost boyish enthusiasm. He made her feel 18 again-the romanticized version, not the awkward, self-conscious misfit that she actually was.
She loved so many things about Will, especially the way he was looking at her right now. She wondered if he could see the love in her eyes too.
Emma started to feel weepy. It crept up on her suddenly, as it often did these days, and she put on her sunglasses to hide her watery eyes. "Sure is bright out today," she commented.
Will agreed and put his sunglasses on too.
She knew he was giving her privacy, and while she appreciated it at the moment, she resolved to let him in.
-X-
Will began to unpack the rest of the lunch, proudly describing its contents as he assembled two plates.
"Prosciutto and green apple sandwiches on rustic sourdough bread with a white bean spread-instead of brie," he added. "We also have Terra chips and Emma Pillsbury's favorite palate cleanser, green grapes."
"Sounds wonderful," she gushed.
They ate some of the food and drank all of the wine, chatting about everything from grocery shopping habits to dream vacations. Without even trying, they avoided all topics involving school or relationships. They became sillier and sillier until Will jumped up and said, "Let's play soccer!"
-X-
Will narrated the action (of lack thereof) like a play-by-play announcer while kicking the ball back and forth with Emma. She giggled like a schoolgirl, surprised at how much she enjoyed the physical action of kicking a ball-something she hadn't done since she was 13.
In an obvious attempt to impress her, he kicked the ball straight up in the air and began to bounce it repeatedly between his knee and the top of his foot. He didn't even notice his audience approaching until she stole the ball mid-air and began dribbling it toward an imaginary goal.
Will pursued her, laughing hysterically, but instead of kicking the ball away, he grabbed her around the waist and tackled her, carefully cushioning her fall with his own body.
Only mildly surprised to be lying on top of him in the grass, Emma said breathlessly, "This isn't football, Will."
"In Spain, it is," he quipped, not missing a beat.
"Ha ha," she grumbled as she rolled off of him and onto her side, making a meek attempt to get away.
He rolled with her and they locked eyes.
Emma's senses were overwhelmed by his body pressed up against hers and his face only inches away. She didn't even think about the fact that she was lying on the dirty ground. She just craved Will's lips.
He must have been thinking something similar, or perhaps an R-vated version of what she was imagining, because she felt his arousal against her thigh. Emma unintentionally acknowledged it with her eyes and he sat up immediately. Will inched away from her, putting his knees up in front of him, and attempted to act nonchalant about the unmistakable tightness in his pants.
Emma sat up too. She didn't know what to say so she focused on pulling tiny blades of grass from her hair. She figured he would have been shocked to know she had an equally excited reaction below her waist. Some day, she would tell him.
-X-
They returned to the blanket, walking slowly and quietly, their wine-infused giddiness suddenly replaced by sleepiness. They shared a bottle of water and Will laid back with his eyes closed. "The sun feels so good," he said dreamily. Emma watched as he folded his arms behind his head and drifted off to sleep within seconds.
She felt tired too, but she was happy for the time to think...and stare.
Emma scanned Will's body from head to toe, lingering on her favorite features from his soft curly hair to his sexy lips to his firm torso to the mysterious area below his waist.
She pictured herself straddling his hips and running her hands through his hair. His beautiful eyes would follow her as she hovered above him, lowering her mouth toward his. She would tip her head slightly to the right and touch his lips gently at first, until she felt him respond. Then she would open her mouth wider and...Oh dear, I need to stop this, she told herself.
But she couldn't resist reaching out and lightly stroking the back of his hand. With the tip of her index finger, she drew a circle and then moved slowly toward his wrist, tracing a figure eight on his forearm. He stirred, flipping his hand over, palm open. His eyes were still closed and she couldn't tell if he was awake, but she decided she didn't care. She placed her hand in his, threading their fingers together with the gentlest touch. He responded, eyes still closed, by squeezing her hand.
There was no question that her body was magnetically drawn to his, but she was confused about how and whether to express those feelings. The last time she gave in to them, she kissed him in a crowded restaurant with her husband standing on the other side of the wall. Emma cringed as she remembered that awful night and wondered if it she would ever forgive herself.
She pulled her hand away, then laid down next to Will on her back, trying to dispel the negative thoughts that had interrupted her fantasy. She concentrated on enjoying the warm sunlight on her face.
-X-
Emma didn't know how long she slept, but when she woke up, she was holding Will's hand again. She watched as he shifted on his side, bringing her hand a little closer to his body. He opened his eyes and looked into hers. She turned on her side as well, absorbing the intensity of his gaze the same way her skin had absorbed the rays of the sun. Again, tears welled up in her eyes, love and other confusing emotions longing for release.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" she whispered.
"Sure," he replied, nearly purring with contentment.
After a quick stop at the rest rooms, they strolled on a paved trail around the perimeter of the park. Whether it was the shaded walkway or the physical distance between them, Emma felt a bit of a chill.
Will must have noticed because he said, "I'll be right back," and sprinted to their blanket, returning with a large gray sweatshirt.
"It's going to be huge on you, but it will keep you warm," he said as he held it up for her.
Emma thanked him and slipped her arms into the sleeves, happily inhaling his clean, spicy scent.
He pulled it up over her shoulders and spun her around to face him. They both laughed at how the sleeves hung down to her knees.
"Let me get this for you, little girl," he teased as he pulled the sweatshirt tighter around her body and zipped it up the front.
Will's care taking ways melted Emma's heart.
-X-
"Can we sit down on that bench in the sun?" she asked.
"Of course," he replied.
They sat down and with no preamble, Emma launched into the topic that had been weighing on her mind for weeks.
"Will, I'm ready to talk about why my marriage failed."
He sat back against the bench, suppressing a "Whoa," but not enough to make it inaudible.
"If you want to," she added tentatively.
Encouragement quickly filled his eyes and he said, "Of course I do."
"Okay, so...I think I'll start at the beginning," she said slowly.
He nodded for her to continue.
"I met Carl at a time when things between us were...um...complicated."
Will nodded his head again as if he understood, but wasn't completely ready to accept that description.
"I thought it was just going to be a casual dating thing, maybe even something to make you a little jealous."
"Although, I guess we were on different wavelengths because whenever our paths crossed, it was, I don't know, awkward."
Emma bit her lip, unsure how much she wanted to rehash the past now that she had started.
"Emma, I wish that we had talked then," Will said soulfully.
"I know, me too," she responded softly, momentarily distracted from her narrative as she recognized the depth of his sorrow.
She forced herself to continue.
"I didn't really plan for things to become serious with Carl, but he was persistent. And the longer you stayed away, the more I convinced myself it just wasn't meant to be."
"Em-"
She interrupted him. "Let me just finish this thought, okay?"
"Will, I know it was inappropriate for me to confront you the way I did in the teacher's lounge. I am sorry for how I behaved that day."
"In a way, I think I was testing you. And I hoped your apology was just the beginning. I decided if you truly loved me, you would work hard to repair our relationship."
"But instead, you retreated..."
Emma paused, examining Will's face, seeing regret etched in his features.
He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't seem to find the right words.
Her thoughts continued to flow.
"As much as I wanted to believe you when you told me you loved me, Will, I couldn't get past the fact that you had disappeared when I needed you most only to reappear when you thought I had moved on."
He sat forward on the bench, resting his elbows on his thighs and holding his head in his hands, thoroughly defeated.
"Emma, I'm so sorry," he spoke to the ground. "I wish I could explain what was going through my head at the time, but honestly, it was very muddy."
She waited while he struggled to express himself.
"I remember wanting to put my divorce behind me, but feeling stuck. I didn't know what to do with the anger I had toward Terri for the dreams she destroyed."
Emma reached out and put a soothing hand on Will's back.
"You were right that I needed to spend some time alone. I just wasn't prepared for how painful it would be."
"And to drag someone else into that, especially you,...I don't know..."
Will's eyes filled with water as he turned to her with a confession he had never voiced.
"I wish I could have met your expectations, Emma."
His words punctured her heart, and any lingering resentment she harbored flowed out in a gush.
"Oh Will, please don't say that," she pleaded. "Please don't think that."
Rubbing his back, Emma spoke to him, but also to herself. "I'm a guidance counselor. I should have seen it. I should have been more understanding about what you were going through."
Will sat up and waited for her to meet his eyes.
"I meant it when I told you I loved you, Emma."
"I believe you," she replied earnestly. "But I hope you can understand why I doubted it at the time."
He shook his head and sighed.
"I guess I do, although I still don't get why you went so far as to marry him. You are not an impulsive person, Emma."
His pain and frustration were palpable and he deserved an answer.
"I loved him," she admitted quietly.
WIll winced.
"And I think I got caught up in the romance of it all."
"I do love him, Will," she said apologetically. "But it took me a while to figure out I'm not in love with him."
Perplexed, he said, "What do you mean by that?"
"Well, I enjoyed his company. I loved how he made me feel about myself. We had great communication. And I found him attractive."
"Sorry," she added, seeing that that last part bothered him a bit more than it probably should have.
"I thought we had all the right ingredients, and that I just needed time to feel more connected to him. I kept hoping that my fondness for him would translate into something more...intimate."
Will listened attentively, more hopeful than he had been since bringing the conversation back around to her marriage.
"So there's something else I should probably tell you, Will."
Hesitantly, she said, "We never, uh, you know, consummated our relationship."
Unable to feign surprise, he responded, "If I was hearing that for the first time, my jaw would be on the ground right now, but I have to admit I already knew."
"Great!" Emma huffed, rolling her eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted Holly."
"I was surprised you did. Why did you talk to her about it?" Will wondered.
"I don't know," she said, still riled up. "I guess I was desperate. I thought there was something wrong with me and I needed another female opinion. I figured she wouldn't be around long enough to spill the beans, but I guess I was wrong."
Emma crossed her arms animatedly, clearly annoyed.
"Did it help...to talk to her?" Will asked gently, hoping to defuse her irritation.
Her shoulders sagged as she considered the question for several minutes.
Emma finally spoke, staring shyly at the pavement.
"She suggested that...maybe the reason I was unwilling to have "relations" with Carl was that I still had feelings for someone else."
She peeked at Will who appeared to stop breathing for a moment.
He reached his hand to her face, lifting her chin with the arc of his finger until their eyes met. Will's were filled with wonder.
Hope cresting, he choked out the question: "Do you?"
Emma bit her lip and nodded, eyes darting back to the ground.
"Will, I'm scared."
"I know," he said as he wrapped her tightly in his arms.
It was exactly what she needed and she clung to him fiercely.
"It's okay to be scared, Em," he whispered tenderly in her ear.