Far From Me Pt. 02

She marked her spot in the novel she'd been reading with the envelope and set it face up on the end table. It was a book he'd given her earlier that year, one of her graduation gifts -- David Foster Wallace's The Broom of the System. She looked up at him and smiled wryly. Apparently, she was in no mood for fighting. "Jesus, you can't even handle a little bit of teasing anymore!"

"Whatever, but I think I know the difference between teasing and disdain, and that wasn't teasing." She looked at him in a way that made him think she wanted to start up again, so he intervened before she could. "Look, I'm too tired to fight anymore. Can we just drop it?"

"Are you hungry?" It seemed like an odd question, especially considering the context.

"I don't know, kind of. Why?"

"I made some brownies. I thought maybe you wanted one. They're in the kitchen."

"Okay, but then I'm going to bed." He turned and took a step toward the interior of the house.

"I wouldn't advise that."

Confused, he wheeled around to face her again. "Why not?"

"They're Humboldt brownies! You'll be high for six or seven hours. It would be a kind of waste to sleep right through that, that is, if you can sleep."

He chuckled to himself. "Let me guess. You ate one a few hours ago, and that's why you're still up at midnight. Am I right?"

"You know me too well! I've been trying to read the same damn chapter of this book for the last two hours. It doesn't make any sense!" She smiled.

"That's a difficult book if you're 100% sober, so don't feel too bad." He smiled, but the smile then morphed into confusion. "But if you knew that a brownie would blitz me for a long time, why did you offer me one now?"

"I thought maybe you'd sit up with me!" she answered with sweet, almost innocent hopefulness.

He chuckled, but with a sort of breathless exasperation. "I can't, Lara. I'm so freaking tired. I've been up since 6:00 a.m. and working since 7:00 -- 17 straight hours. Maybe tomorrow, okay?" He turned into the hallway. "Good night, I'll see you in the morning."

*****

The party got started pretty early. Most of the basketball team, a few football players, and all of the varsity cheer squad were on hand a little after sunset, which, on the shortest day of the year, was shortly after 4:30 p.m. By six, when he and Lara arrived, things were hopping. Some of the basketball players were trying to hit on Ingrid, but all of the older boys -- those that thought they might have a shot -- were crowded around her sister Erika, trying to charm their way into her panties.

Even though it was just under 20° outside, Erika was wearing a kind of flouncy, black, off-the-shoulder, crop-top dress that exposed equal amounts of skin above and below it. She augmented the dress with a pair of black, strap pumps.

With one exception, Erika's impact on the other partygoers was nothing short of profound. She was almost unearthly beautiful, as if the gods had somehow designed the perfect woman, carried her to Earth on angel's wings, and then deposited her at the Nagy's door with all the pomp and circumstance of a princess' arrival at her debutante ball. As impossible as it might have been to believe, she almost made Ingrid look plain.

Erika was truly a work of art. She was an extremely slender, young woman, but even though her breasts and ass were smaller than Ingrid's, there was no denying her curvaceous figure. In all honesty, however, it was her face that stole the show. It was absolutely captivating, one of those faces from which it is almost impossible to look away.

Erika was tall -- even taller than Ingrid and probably only an inch or two shy of his own height of 6'1". Like Ingrid, she had soft, fine, platinum-blond hair, worn medium-length so it hung just low enough to touch her slight, bare shoulders. In contrast to Ingrid, who clearly spent a lot of time in the sun, Erika had pale skin that accentuated her full, dark-brown eyebrows. Her eye color was a rare shade of light green, such that when she was outside or in bright light, her irises appeared almost blue.

She had a pointed, feminine nose that featured a small, diamond stud in the sensual crease of her left nostril, and her soft, pink lips curled up at the corners into a sly grin even when she wasn't overtly smiling. With its high, wide cheekbones and tapered chin, the structure of her lovely face bore the classic characteristics of Scandinavian beauty.

He feared that Erika might, as her sister had before her, pose a threat to Lara. But if that was the case, Lara showed no signs of it, barely paying any attention to Erika after the opening introductions. Despite her professed fear that Ingrid would surely "drool all over" him, Lara was in high spirits that night.

Perhaps the strategy to prevent that "drooling" was never to let Ingrid out of her sight, because once she'd stolen Ingrid from the boys, the two flitted about, moving from one place to another and from one conversation to the next as if they were joined at the hip.

That left him free to visit with Erika. He had to wait until her throng of adolescent, male admirers thinned out, but when the gaggle of 17- and 18-year-olds began to realize that they had no chance with her and absolutely nothing interesting to say to a cosmopolitan, Swedish woman four or five years their senior, one by one they wandered away to pursue far less complex attractions: cheerleaders.

It fell to him, it seemed -- as the only unmarried male anywhere near her age -- to entertain her. The two talked for several hours, and the conversation was free-flowing and natural. Besides her obvious physical attributes, he found her intelligent, urbane, and cultured. And even more than that, they had a lot in common.

He found out the Erika was a Fine Arts major and so their conversation spanned a wide range of topics from art and architecture to film and music. She seemed to appreciate his sense of humor, and he marveled at how easily he could make her laugh.

There were a few times when it seemed like what she was saying was slightly flirtatious, but every time he looked at that face, he decided he was wrong about that. She was simply too beautiful to be interested in him.

As the early evening wore on, he, Paul, Juliette, and Erika each had a couple of beers, and all four took three turns each separately visiting the garage for hits of Humboldt, while the others monitored the goings-on inside the house.

There wasn't too much to do. The Monteboro kids were on their best behavior, and it was pretty obvious that none of the players were willing to risk sneaking a drink, probably out of fear that the basketball coaching staff could put a quick end to their seasons almost before they began.

The only question had been one of the cheerleaders -- Anna Prochaska, who seemed to be acting goofy when she arrived. The problem was Anna Prochaska was goofy, so they gave up wondering too much about it a few hours into the festivities when everyone started chowing down on hot dogs and potato chips.

Afterward, most of the younger partygoers headed outside. Some of the boys played basketball in the lighted barn loft. Then, after a heated game of coed snow-football, played by the light of three or four sets of car lights, followed by a rousing snowball fight in which most everyone joined in, the kids returned to the cozy warmth inside for birthday cake and Christmas cookies. After they'd had their fill of sugar, Ingrid opened her presents.

The adults, and that included Erika, watched most all of the merriment with amused wonder, probably a little surprised that high school kids could be so respectful and morally upright. He, for one, hadn't been that way when he was growing up, and he didn't much know what to make of kids that could have so much fun drinking hot cocoa and sodas, and consuming mass quantities of fatty foods and sugar.

Around 10:00 or so, a lot of the Monteboro High crowd started leaving. And that was probably a particularly fortuitous thing because that was about the time that Ingrid started losing it! Lara told him on the way to the Nagy's that she'd eaten one of her Humboldt brownies, but it was not until after most of Ingrid's friends had left that Lara pulled him aside and admitted to him that a couple of hours earlier she'd given one of the brownies to Ingrid... without telling her about the weed!

By 10:30 Ingrid couldn't walk at all, and that left Lara feeling embarrassed, remorseful, and upset. She tried to get Ingrid to go outside to walk off the high, but it seemed as if Ingrid either didn't understand or didn't think she could walk, even if she did understand.

Finally, the last two of Ingrid's fellow cheerleaders departed. Luckily, both Callie Withen and Franny Hoffman were only slightly smarter than bags of rocks, and both of them were overly preoccupied that night with Callie's recent tortured breakup with her boyfriend -- who'd left a half hour earlier with another girl. The bottom line was neither one appeared to even notice that there was anything wrong with Ingrid.

When they were gone, Lara found him again, led him to the back porch, and asked him if she could use his truck to take Ingrid back to their place. She felt like she needed to explain things to Ingrid as soon as she was sober enough to understand. Lara didn't want Ingrid to be mad at her out of fear that she might cancel their trip to New York, or so she said.

"What am I supposed to do, walk home? It's 15 miles, Lara, and about 15° outside! Besides, it snowed eight inches last night, and I don't have boots or a heavy coat! And don't forget, we're leaving tomorrow for Chicago. It's going to be about a ten-hour drive. I thought you wanted to get an early start."

"I haven't forgotten, and yeah, I want to leave about 7:30. I'll be back here before then."

"Why don't I just leave with you two?"

"No!" she barked with surprising forcefulness, "Ingrid's already freaked out! I need to have this conversation with her alone, so she'll forgive me. Come on, please? You can spend the night here. I'm sure that will be okay with Paul and Juliette. I'll bring Ingrid back bright and early in the morning and pick you up. Look, I'm sorry. I just don't want her to be mad at me for not telling her."

The desperation on her face made his anger dissipate. "Okay, I guess I can ask if I can sleep on their couch."

Without saying goodbye to anyone, he and Lara dragged the semi-comatose Ingrid from the porch swing on the back deck to the passenger seat in his truck. Then, as Lara drove away on the snow-covered gravel road, he returned to the house and joined the others in the living room. When he walked in, Paul was passing Erika the bong.

"Where'd you go?"

"Well, there's a little problem. I think everything will be okay, but Lara gave Ingrid a pot brownie, and Ingrid's way too high right now. She took her back to our place to sober her up."

"Why did she do that?" Juliette asked. She looked nervous.

"Because she feels guilty. She didn't tell Ingrid the brownie had weed in it -- some of that Humboldt you got us. When she sobers up, Lara is afraid Ingrid will be pissed off at her."

"But why take her there?" Paul asked, passing the bong to Erika.

"I don't know. It wasn't my idea. By the way, do you mind if I crash here tonight? Lara took my truck, and she's not coming back until morning. If you don't mind, I'll sleep on the couch."

Juliette looked at Paul and grinned. "Not a problem. I wish we could offer you a bed, Tom, but we only have the two bedrooms. Since Erika got here, she and Ingrid have been sharing the bed in Ingrid's room."

He looked at Erika, who, seemingly oblivious to the conversation, was busying herself filling the bong. "That's okay. I don't mind crashing on the couch. This is the longest couch I've ever seen. I'll probably be more comfortable here than in our bed at home! Besides, it's only a few hours. We're leaving for Chicago early tomorrow morning." He turned to Paul. "I did tell you that, didn't I? We're planning to come back on the 28^th."

"Yeah, don't worry, you told me." He paused. "God, that's a long drive, Tom, you better get a good night's sleep." Then, he quickly shifted gears. "I was surprised that all of the high school kids left as early as they did -- probably bored to tears hanging out with us old folks! With today being the beginning of Christmas break for both of us, and Juliette and I being off for the next three weeks, I thought we'd stay up and celebrate, but that's probably not a good idea -- you've got to leave early." Paul stared at him. What he'd said seemed like more of a question than a statement.

"Hey, don't change your plans on my account. It's your house, and I'm imposing. I can last as long as I need to. Lara can drive part of the way, so if I get tired, I'll take a nap." As he finished speaking, Erika blew a steady stream of thick smoke into the air, coughed slightly, smiled at him, and offered him the bong and a small bowl of buds. He accepted both with a nod.

"You're awfully quiet, Erika. You're not worried about Ingrid are you?" Juliette asked.

Erika shrugged and shook her head, "No. It's no big thing. Ingrit -- she kint of a lightveight!" She giggled. "She better get in shape before she goes to university, or she vill embarrass herself!" Everyone laughed.

As he filled the bong, he turned his attention to Erika. "So, Erika, I hear you're going to New York for New Years with Ingrid and Lara?"

"Ya, I see if I can help. I mottel a little in Europe ant here in the US, ant the agency I vork vith has office in New York. I take Ingrit there to see if maybe she can mottel, too."

"Oh, I didn't realize that. I thought that's why Lara was going along -- that she was hoping to help Ingrid find an agent." He lit the bong and inhaled deeply.

"Ya, she vas, but if you ton't know anyboty, it is very hart. I know vhere to go, ant the right people to see." Her explanation was offered with not a whit of egotism, only the pragmatic approach of someone who had already learned the tricks of maneuvering the system. On the other hand, what she'd said clearly made Lara's presence on the New York trip all but useless. He wondered about that.

The four of them stayed up and continued to talk, smoke, and drink until about 11:30 when Erika abruptly excused herself. For the next 10 or 15 minutes, they could hear her using the downstairs bathroom. She seemed to stay in there for an unusually long time.

Juliette and Paul must have taken Erika's departure as a sign that it was time for bed -- figuring, he presumed, that they would not only keep him up, but Erika as well. He assured them that as far as he was concerned, it wasn't a problem, but they insisted they'd better retire to their room.

Before they did, Juliette gathered up a pillow, a sheet, and a couple of blankets to make up the couch for him. Then, they both bid him good night, climbing the stairs to the second floor.

When he heard Erika finish in the bathroom and retire to her room, he, too, used the bathroom, which was just down the hall from Ingrid's room. He took a piss, washed his face and hands, and rubbed some toothpaste over his teeth with his finger. Then he returned to the living room, turned out the light, undressed, lie down on the couch, and pulled the thick blankets over him.

He had trouble falling asleep. He couldn't stop thinking about Erika, and all that thinking made him hard. As much as he had been fantasizing about Ingrid for the past three months, he had to admit, he was even more attracted to her sister.

Erika was closer to his age and, seemingly, more mature and intelligent than Ingrid. In addition, it had sometimes been hard trying to get past Ingrid's unabashed infatuation with him. Something about it bothered him a little bit. And there was something else, too, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

But Erika -- she was probably the most beautiful woman he'd ever spent any time with. Unfortunately, she was almost certainly out of his league, and this was probably the last time he would ever see her. Besides, despite the less-than-ideal situation between him and Lara, his relationship with her -- he assumed -- pretty much destroyed any meager chances that he had with Erika. He wasn't willing to risk the wrath of Lara trying to find out just how meager.

But sometime around 12:30, as he stroked himself under two, thick comforters, he heard the nearly soundless creak of a door opening, followed by the soft swish of footsteps from some distant place within the house. The sound came closer, and soon he heard someone entering, first the dining room, and then the living room.

He opened his eyes to see a dark figure standing over him. It took his pupils several seconds to make out anything in the darkness, but there was enough star and moonlight reflected off the snow-covered ground outside that shone through the north window that, after a half dozen seconds, he could make out the mysterious apparition hovering over him. It was Erika!

"Tom, are you avake?" she whispered.

"Erika? What's going on? Can't you sleep?" He spoke as quietly as he could. He hoped that Paul and Juliette had already fallen asleep, and, short of that, that, with the door leading upstairs closed, they couldn't hear.

"It's not that I can't; it's that I ton't vant to." Unexpectedly, she bent low and kissed him on the mouth! Her lips were like the softest pillows he'd ever touched. He became even more aroused, but he didn't know what to say or do.

"Vhy ton't you come sleep vith me?" She sat down next to him, and began stroking a soft, perfumed hand across the dark stubble that covered his cheek.

"Jesus, Erika", he whispered. "You're gonna get me in a lot of trouble!"

She laughed softly. "You mean Lara?" she said, shaking her head in dismay. "You shoult give up on her!"

"What? What do you mean?" His first emotion was anger -- anger that someone he'd only met a few hours earlier had seen fit to shamelessly appraise his personal relationship with someone else. He thought to himself: What makes you think you know what I should do?

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see a little bit better and realized that Erika was wearing nothing except for a small, frilly, white, cotton bra and a tiny, matching thong.

Without answering him, she lifted her hand from his face to her modest breasts, and after delicately fingering the soft fabric of one of the cups of her bra for several seconds, she began running her fingers slowly down the center of her chest, then her stomach, until they disappeared inside the front of her thong.

She parted her legs slightly, and he could see her working her fingers, until a soft, almost soundless sigh escaped her throat. She pulled her hand from her panties, and before he knew what was happening, she slid two, wet fingertips to his lips! He opened his mouth, licking the pungent essence from her fingers. It tasted like the fucking nectar of the gods! Apparently, his "meager chances" had suddenly improved considerably!

Any anger he might have felt toward her was dispelled by the intoxicating scent and flavor of her sweet pussy. Suddenly, he realized he'd reached a moment of reckoning. He had long known that Lara's place in his life was short-lived. Still, he didn't really believe that he would ever cheat on her, and, despite the fact that he -- and now apparently everyone else -- already knew it was over between them, this was still cheating as far as he was concerned.

But for everyone, even the staunchest moralists, there are temptations that cannot be easily conquered, and if ever there was a woman that could blind him to his ethics, it was Erika Eriksson!