The Curse of the Scots Ch. 06

Angie whimpered, "Oh come on."

Hands kneading and massaging Angie's small breasts; Caprice pressed her face into the other woman's womb. Angie cried out.

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The next morning a somber Cayden heard the phone ring. He heard a groggy Caprice talk to someone. Whoever it was must have asked her something because he heard a halfhearted yes.

Christ! He jumped out of bed. Campbell must have called early and asked her to the social! He pulled his boxers back on; shirtless he raced into the kitchen, "Caprice have you told anyone you'd go with them to the oyster supper?"

She spun around as Cayden swept into the room. She had to smile. He looked magnificent, thin hips, muscular legs. The muscles of his abdomen, though not those of a body builder or gymnast, had that well defined look of a man who worked hard and ate intelligently. His arms weren't what she'd call muscular, but he was well muscled. He had the look of a man who seldom, if ever, worked out, but he had the look of a man who knew the meaning of work.

She'd always thought there was something artificial, phony, about men who passed on real work to go to the gym. Too narcissistic she thought. There wasn't anything narcissistic about Cayden, his bronzed skin, lithe muscularity; wispy bleached chest hair marked him as the real thing, a real man.

Her heart skipped a beat, "Cayden?"

I stepped close, close enough to embrace her, but didn't, "I was wondering, has anyone said anything about the oyster supper?"

Shit! Oh shit! What had she been thinking? Of course she should be going to the supper with Cayden. What had she just done? Stupid, stupid woman, "I...uh. I just got off the phone with Barry."

I saw the look on her face; it told it all. A day late and dollar short I mumbled, "Never mind," I started back toward my bedroom.

Caprice tried to recover. How could she have been so stupid? Here was the man she wanted. Where had she been? She moved to him and put her arms around him, "I'm sorry..."

I backed away; no mercy hugs for me, "That's OK.I hadn't planned on going anyway."

No! She couldn't allow that. He had to be there, date or not, she knew he had to be there, "No Cayden you have to attend."

She had to think of something, "They'll be installing the new officers. You'll have to be on hand for that. Besides..."

I didn't let her finish, "Yeah, you're right. I'm an outgoing officer. Someone will have to help swear in the new people," I added lamely, "Maybe I'll see you there."

She changed the subject, "Can I fry you up some eggs?"

Angie came in; she saw Cayden in his underwear and blushed. She wasn't supposed to like him. She wasn't supposed to have anything to do with him, but wow didn't he look glorious, "Eggs? I'll have some, fried if you don't mind." Reflecting on the previous night she walked over and kissed Caprice. She whispered, "Good morning lover."

I heard her, "No eggs for me. I've got to get to the barn. I was already halfway back to my bedroom when I said it. My day and week had been ruined and I hadn't even brushed my teeth yet.

Angie watched him retreat, she asked Caprice, "Something wrong?"

Caprice nodded, "It's unbelievable. Fried eggs you said?"

Angie pulled up a chair, "And toast and coffee, oh and some orange juice. Can you get me home? Emily will be up soon."

Caprice went toward the refrigerator to get her girlfriend her OJ. She granted Angie a wan smile, "Right after breakfast."

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A couple days later Angie was thinking, 'I'd been cooling toward Matt lately. He's still the same kind and considerate man he'd always been at work, but our last couple dates have a revealed a side of him I'm not happy about. I'm sure he knows some things about my past; how Cayden and I had split up, and of course, my relationship with Bernard. Jesus that was a mistake! That was still a fresh topic among the rumor crews around town.'

I considered my possibilities and took him up on another date. Matt offered to take me to a dinner theater. I'd heard about them; there were two in our area. I'd heard they were quite enjoyable.

He'd picked me up at 6:30. He was dressed nattily in a tan sport coat and dark brown slacks. He knocked on the door, my mom let him in, and he frolicked about with Emily while I finished my makeup.

I wasn't sure, but I kind of thought this date would be our swan song. I had my reasons.

For one I'd realized Matt's interest in me was more about what I had in my panties then in anything long term, and I more or less decided I wasn't putting out any more unless it was for either Caprice or maybe someday for Cayden.

I guess that was the second reason. I was in love. I knew I was in love with Caprice. I didn't think I was a lesbian, but I knew I had strong feelings for her. But then there was Cayden. I had to admit it; I'd always loved him. Oh I hated what he'd done to me, but through it all I realized now I never stopped loving the rascal. I knew I could never let him out of my life.

Then there was the third reason; that was Pastor Cook's reason. The Pastor had helped me see my future was bound up tightly with Emily's future. The way he got me to see it; if I couldn't keep myself straight then how would I ever be able to provide Emily with the guidance she'd need some day. The way the Pastor explained it girls were tough to raise; especially after they turned thirteen. I had to mind myself or she'd use my behavior as an excuse to do things she shouldn't.

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I remember the date; heck it was only a few days ago! The night of the big date came. I was surprised. Matt helped me put on my light wrap, and then he handed me a small wrist corsage. No one had ever given me any kind flowers before, not even Cayden. He walked me to his car, helped me in, and we started off for the dinner theater.

I never had such a good time. The actors served us our meals, and then they performed. They did a one act play; it was something about two men being accidentally married to the same woman. It was funny, but it was also pretty risqué. Matt explained all these dinner theater performances were like that.

It was a BYOB type of performance. Matt had brought two bottles of wine; one was a mildly sweet tasting white and the other was a bitter tasting red. I preferred the sweeter white wine so I drank that. I enjoyed the meal; we had a choice between lasagna and flounder. Since I was drinking a white wine, and Matt a red he chose the lasagna and I chose the fish. I thoroughly enjoyed the wine, but I did think it had an odd after taste. I guessed it was just me.

Well we had a great meal and enjoyed an interesting show. Matt left a generous gratuity, and afterward he asked me to stop off at his place for some homemade cake. I agreed.

By the time we got to Matt's I was feeling a little groggy, but it was kind of a good groggy, more like euphoric, that's a word I hadn't used in a long time. I'd really had a good time. The wine had given me a soft buzz, and I had this especially warm comfortable feeling about Matt.

I guess I'd forgotten what a terrific guy Matt was. When we got back to his place he took my wrap, he insisted I get out of my tight fitting high heels, he brought me a piece of this delicious looking chocolate cake, and he gave me another glass of wine.

The cake was good. Matt was so pleasant, and the apartment seemed kind of warm. I was feeling all this affection toward Matt. He talked about some of his past problems, how his old girlfriend had cut out on him and then had him beaten up. I felt like I could really relate to the problems he'd had. It sounded sort of like what Cayden had done to me. All I could think about was how I wanted to make Matt feel better.

We watched a little television, and I felt so cozy I just curled up on his sofa and placed my head on his lap. Matt was so nice; he kept massaging my neck and he kept kissing me on the back of my head and on my cheek. He made me feel so good. I wanted to do something to make him happy.

Before I knew it we were sitting on his sofa hugging and kissing. I let him unbutton my blouse and undo my bra. He started kissing my boobs and rubbing them with the palms of his hands and his fingers. It made me feel good, and I could tell by the way he looked at me I was making him happy.

I was wearing pantyhose, panties, and a miniskirt. I let him pull down my hose and my panties. Pretty soon he was rubbing my Mons and pushing one of his fingers inside my vagina. I was small down there, and one finger was all I was ready for. I mean I could take more, but I was naturally small, even after sex with Bernard I was still inclined to shrink to a very small size. Heck Bernard wasn't all that much anyway; not like Cayden. Oh yes, Cayden.

Matt was rubbing and playing with me, and I started to think about how Cayden used to do some of the same things. Cayden had always been very special.

Anyway I was with Matt, and started to think about Cayden. I remembered when I was with Cayden, how big he was, he always had to massage and rub me before I was open enough to be ready for him. I recalled how even when Cayden was at his meanest he almost never hurt me. Truthfully it always did hurt, but he always tried to make it nice. He always rubbed, caressed, kissed, and massaged me into readiness.

I think there was only one time that he ever tried to hurt me down there, and that was when he took me in the rear. I remember we'd been at the beach at night and how he hurt me terribly. I also remember how he stopped and promised he'd never to anything like that to me ever again. He never did either.

I was with Matt. I was really hot, and I could tell he wanted me. I was getting wet. I wanted him to feel good so I didn't try to stop him.

Then he must have said something. I think he said something about him being better than Cayden. I think he said something like Cayden not being a real man. Anyway that's when I woke up.

I jumped up off the sofa and told him to stop. He laughed and tried to pull me back down. I realized then the whole thing must have been a trick. I told him I bet he'd tried to put something in my piece of cake.

He got mad then. He told me I was a worthless tramp, and if I wasn't prepared to put out I should get out. That was when I grabbed my purse, my clothes, and ran out the front door.

He started to follow me, but once he reached his door he stopped, laughed, and wished me luck getting home.

I ran half way down the lane, stopped, pulled out my cell phone, and called Caprice. By then I was crying like crazy.

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It was a Thursday night. Angie was on what she told me was probably her last date with the librarian. Cayden and I were in the living room reading. I was curled up with Charles Dickens saga of the French Revolution 'A Tale of Two Cities' and Cayden lay sprawled out on the floor in front of me with something by Tom Clancy. Actually I was only half interested in my book. I'd read it before anyway. I guess I was adrift half way between my fantasy world, and something else I especially wanted to do that night.

I knew it was too late for me, but I was so desperately hopelessly in love with the man lying on the floor in front of me. He'd just gotten out of the shower, and all he had on was a pair of khaki shorts and his scrumptiously smelling spicy aftershave. I'd had a shower just a little while before myself. I was wearing a set of tailored shorty pajamas; a comfortably fitting button up top and a pair of loosely fitting pants, and the perfume, Chanel Chance, that Cayden had bought me. I'd even put on a little makeup; aren't I a sneak?

I was day dreaming, pretending Cayden and I were married, and in a few minutes he'd ask me to go to bed. I had these romantic visions of me being wrapped in his arms while he ran his hands all over my body. I thought about the way he pretended to nurse me while I was recovering from my surgeries. I was starting to feel warm. I'd only had sex one time since my surgeries. Cayden had been the one time. God he'd been so gentle. I got goose bumps thinking about how he made me feel that night. I knew I would be so happy if I were married to him.

I let my leg extend far enough so that my toes touched the back of his upper thigh. He glanced up at me from his book. I could tell he was still feeling sorry for himself for not asking me to the ham and oyster supper ahead of Barry. He smiled.

I asked him, "A penny for your thoughts."

He replied, "I need someone to help me exercise the horses."

I don't know where it came from but I answered, "Why not ask me, I can ride."

He got this big old crappy smile on his face, "Maybe I will."

I felt, wow, this was totally cool; another warm rush swept over me, "That sounds good to me," I could see my offer and answer almost completely wiped away his disappointment about the Sunday Supper. I wanted to jump down and climb on his back, kick my heels in his sides and make him ride me around the living room while I kissed his neck and reached underneath to squeeze his balls.

My mind and heart kept hollering at him, 'Tell me I shouldn't go to the supper with Barry. Tell me I should go with you. Tell me because you're an official, and you need a companion.' He only looked back at his book and continued to pretend to read. I knew he was pretending; he wasn't turning any pages. He didn't move away so I started lightly rubbing his thigh with my toes.

I couldn't hold out. I closed my book and climbed down beside him on the carpet. I knew if I ever got to marry him the first thing, well one of the first things I'd do would be replace the thin carpet he'd bought with something thick and lush. We'd never make to the bedroom then.

I climbed own beside him and asked, "Don't you think we should go to bed?"

He peered around and grinned at me, "There's nothing stopping you."

I put my right arm over his shoulders. I cuddled up real close and tried to slide my left hand under his stomach to the zipper on his shorts, "It gets so lonely in that big king sized bed at night."

He leaned his face close and kissed me, "You need someone to tuck you in?"

I nodded, "Mm mm"

He started to get up. This was it!

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Then my cell phone rang. Damn! I knew Angie was out with Devereau. While holding up one finger I reached around to the end table and picked up my phone and flipped it over. It was Barry, "Yes, what do you want," I wasn't trying to be friendly. He was interfering with an important project. I could already see the swell in Cayden's shorts. It wasn't so much the sex; it was the attention I wanted.

Barry asked me, "The Rehoboth Cancer Society is sponsoring a dance this Saturday night. I was..."

I didn't want to hear this, "But that's the night before the Oyster Supper."

He replied, "I know but this is for such a worthy cause."

I was stuck. I held my hand over the phone, "Barry wants to take me to a dance this Saturday night."

I watched Cayden's whole countenance change from optimistic affection to that of a beaten old man. It was like watching him age ten years in ten seconds. This was crushing. Why didn't he just tell me to tell Barry no? I said, "You can tell me to tell him no."

Cayden replied, "No, I think you should go."

I answered, "All you have to do is say..."

Cayden was getting to his feet. He was already walking to his bedroom door; he cut me off, "No you should go to the dance. It's the one at Rehoboth. It's for a worthy cause."

"I could tell him you already asked me."

He grumbled, "That wouldn't be honest," by then he was already at his bedroom door.

That pissed me off. 'All right,' I thought, I'll let Cayden have his way.' I took my hand off the phone, "Sure, what time would you be picking me up?"

Barry answered, "7:00."

I replied, "OK." I closed the phone. I thought, 'I'm not a bigot or anything, but I bet Cayden could screw up a two car Polish funeral.' I further mentally corrected myself, 'That was just a figure of speech; it had no significant bearing on anything,' but he really got my goat, 'What was wrong with that man? Couldn't he see how I felt about him, this was for shit!' I climbed back up on the sofa, but any interest I had in Dickens, or anything for that matter had just shuffled off into the bedroom. I just sat there staring off into space.

I didn't stare long. My cell phone rang again. Maybe Barry changed his mind. I opened the phone up. It was Angie. I spoke, "Angie?" Damn! She was crying, "Angie what's wrong."

"I need to you to come pick me up."

I was already on my feet, "Where are you?"

"Down the street from Mr. Devereau's."

"OK, Angie I'll be right there," I thought about saying something to Cayden, but reconsidered. If Devereau had done something to Angie Cayden would want to get into it with him again, and Devereau had already put Cayden on his back once. I slipped into my bedroom; that was the big master bedroom where Cayden first delivered me right after he bought me. I found a miniskirt and a blouse. I buttoned them on, slipped on some tennis shoes; I still didn't have any socks, grabbed my purse and the keys to Cayden's Lexus and was out the door in a split second.

I sped down to Matt Devereau's road and found Angie on the shoulder with her head in her hands. I pulled to a stop, unlocked the door and she got in.

"Oh Caprice, he's such a bastard!"

"Why, what'd he do?"

"It's not what he did; it's what he tried to do."

I sat in the driver's seat with the motor running and listened while Angie told me the whole slimy story. I was disgusted, "Come on I'll take you home."

Angie sobbed, "Oh I can't go there. Emily will..."

I corrected her, "I don't mean your mother's. I'm taking you to Cayden's. Damn it Angie, that's where you belong anyway."

Angie stopped sobbing when I said that. I didn't know for sure whether she stopped sobbing because I said I wasn't taking her to her mother's, or if it was because I told her Cayden's was where she supposed to be.

I got her home and in my bed. I went into the kitchen and got her an orange juice. We lay down together in the big bed, "Angie we can't tell Cayden about this."

She sipped some of the juice, "I know he'd just want to go out and get beat up again."

I snuggled up against her and rubbed the back of her head, "He's some conquering hero isn't he."

We both had a laugh at that. She finished her juice and then we got to it. The night wasn't a complete waste after all.

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Cayden starts to grow a pair, finally.

I left Caprice in the living room and went to bed and tried to go to sleep. I felt like such a loser. I kept going over the same questions again and again. Why was I constantly deferring to people like Bernard and Barry? Why did I give a shit what Pastor Cook told me about myself and about my girls? Caprice was right; I was certainly the biggest dumbest farmer in the county. I knew Caprice loved me, and I bet if I really tried I could get Angie and Emily in my life.

What did I know? I knew one thing; I knew how to work. Well maybe, just maybe, if I wanted my girls to be in my life and stay in my life I'd have to do more than feel sorry for myself. I didn't sleep. I just tossed and turned all that night.

The next morning, way before the sun came up I got up, got dressed, and drove over to the town's cemetery. I needed to talk to someone, and the only person I could think of to talk to was my Aunt Maggie. OK she was dead, but I knew where she was.

I pulled in the cemetery and started to walk around. Everywhere I looked I saw people and the names of people I'd known or knew about. The names were all essentially the same; there were Camels, Careys, Campbells, Murrays, MeGees, McCabes, Cashes, McLeishes, MacDonalds, Hamiltons, and on and on. They were all Scottish, and they probably all had the same history. They all certainly worked hard. They were all probably honest, and they all certainly had their times of despondency and depression. They were all also family people. They all believed in God, paid their bills, took care of their kids, and went to church, and almost every God damned one of them had flowers, or at the least one of those little plastic crosses on their graves.