If the Fates Allow
Part Four
…back at Emme's house
Emme felt better knowing that her mother was asleep. The tired look on Mrs.
Martinez' face told her that something happened before Mrs. Watson passed out
and at that moment Emme didn't want to know. She held Drake's hand as he held
the Tiffany's shopping bag. Emme wanted him to bring the easy bake oven. He was
confused when they didn't go to her room but continued on the main floor.
"Where are we going?"
"Ssh. You'll see."
Emme was taking Drake to the exercise room that down a small flight of stairs from
the breakfast nook. It almost looked exactly like the boy's weight room at Belleview.
There was a stand with free weights on it against the wall, a set of 'His' and 'Her'
Nordic Tracks, a stationary bike, and every other piece of equipment that a gym
had. Drake couldn't help but notice how dated some of the pieces seemed.
"You have an exercise room?"
"Yeah. Someday, I'll give you the proper tour." The most important part of this room
was the little makeshift office in the back that contained a small but able to fit two
people bed. It looked rather simple with its white sheets and pillows and standard
frame. Like it used to belong to a servant.
"This is nice."
"Yeah. I'll plug in the oven. Do you want to sit on the bed?"
Was Emme suggesting that they do it? Really? Was Drake Parker suffering from
delusions now?
"Are there candles?" Drake asked
"As a matter a fact, Don Juanoma, they're in that desk drawer. Matches too." She
stuck out her tongue.
"What was this room before it was a gym and office?"
"Servants quarters."
"I knew it."
"But they weren't our servants."
Emme went about stirring the cake in the small pan. There was just something about
an easy bake oven. It might have seemed outdated and sexist but she really wanted
to cook a real meal for Drake. He definitely was a meat and potatoes kind of guy.
She knew how to make homemade apple tarts. Her mother taught her how when
she was seven years old. Emme tried not to think of her mother. Not now. Not when
she wanted this night to be perfect. There was a little radio on the table and she
turned it to a light instrumental station.
She put the cake in the oven and started to walk over to Drake who just finished
lighting the two pink tapered candles.
"Wait a second," Emme dimmed the lights and went back over to her boyfriend, "I
want you to know I had a great time today."
She kissed him on the lips.
"So did I."
Their kisses intensified as they made their way to the bed. Emme started to
unbutton Drake's blue and red striped shirt, "I want you to make love to me."
Never was she so forthright when it came to matters of the heart whereas Drake
needed to stop for a moment. Because the 'old Drake' would have done it with a
dime room whore, Emme was the most special and beautiful woman he has ever
known that he wanted to make sure that she was certain.
"Are you sure?"
"Did I stutter?"
Isn't this why Drake and Walter bonded not so long ago? Because he wanted to be
in this very moment with Emme, right? He loved her more than himself. She made
him see the whole picture. She made him want to fight for something. It wasn't quick
and easy as some cheerleader offering blowjobs in the boy's locker room. This
meant something. It was more than sex, but he was frightened. Frightened that he
might still have some of the side effects that make sex difficult, painful, and a chore.
Drake wanted this night to be perfect. He wanted the kisses to linger forever. She
was so good, so loving, so giving. She was a virgin who wanted him to be her first,
more accurately her only. Deep down when he first met her he knew that holier than
thou persona was just an act to keep from getting hurt. It was the opposite side of
the coin that he operated on pre-cancer. He would act and mingle be Drake Parker
everybody's friend at the party but that too was a charade. He heard her say
something about unplugging the oven and had no idea on how her pretty lavender
sweater wound up on the floor. He didn't want this to be careless fucking like all the
other times in his life when it meant absolutely nothing than having his male urges
satisfied by the willing. When there really was a distinction between sex and making
love. Drake Parker accepted the cancer, the downright loss or thinning of his body
hair depending on where it was, the scabs from the chemo injections, the dry skin,
the yellow fingernails, and just the act of thinking of food making him want to throw
up. He wanted this night to be special. Not just for him. Infact, he wasn't thinking of
himself at all. He was thinking about Emme. When he looked at her, he didn't see
her old long blonde hair, he saw her sexy peach fuzz and the most vulnerable blue
eyes that God ever created.
It just had to be wonderful.
"Drake, what's wrong? Don't you want me?" Emme whispered
"Nothing. Yes, I do, want you." He put his hands up her turtleneck to help her take it
off but something wasn't quite right. And they deserved this night to be all the
magical and special like the romantic movie clichés he knew she liked.
Instead of being happy Drake Parker was terrified. Terrified of hurting and
disappointing the woman he loved the most in this world.
Author's Note: To be continued…