Summer's Eve Pt. 05

This was the end. Just like that. So abrupt that Helena had not been prepared for it. She would be lying if she pretended as if she had not thought about tonight. She had. Frequently. Every time with equal parts shame and excitement. She had even dreamt about it. And now it was over. It was for the best, no arguing about it, but still she sulked in silence. She had truly fallen low.

"And that's that chapter." said Lars and slammed the book closed in his lap.

"Was it that short?" Erik asked. "It had to be longer than that."

"Sorry." Lars walked over to the TV table and placed the book besides the movie player. "Next chapter tomorrow evening. It's getting late now - it's high time to go to sleep. Good night."

"Mom?" Alex called out.

Helena was already on the way. Sitting down on the side of the bed she tucked the boys in and hugged them, one by one. Her arms lingered a little longer than usual around them before she finally let go.

"Good night." she said. "Sweet dreams."

"Good night, mom."

Lars turned off the reading lamp and the room fell into darkness. Helena followed him into their bedroom and quietly closed the door behind them. At least the rain had served to make the air inside their room cool and fresh. While Lars undressed Helena stripped out of her bathrobe, revealing her white nightgown. The cold assailed her and she hurried into bed to cover herself with the blanket. Lars turned off the light and got in after her. He rolled onto his side to face her back, and she felt his hand on her naked hip.

"You want to wait until the kids fall asleep?" he whispered, his warm breath tickling her neck. "I don't think we ended on a good note."

His hand travelled from her hip onto her stomach, and from there his fingers traced downwards towards her mound. From there they slipped downwards, and in-between her thighs. Helena slowly but audibly sucked in air when she felt him touch her sex. His touch was feather light, just teasing at her labia. She wanted to part her legs and invite him, and she wanted to give herself to him again. It did not matter that she had not had her orgasm last time - he deserved to take her as he pleased, no matter if she got off on it or not. Her lips parted to answer.

"Maybe not tonight." she whispered, surprising herself. "I'm tired."

His hand withdrew, leaving her to wonder why she had said what she had.

"You are okay, I hope?"

"Of course. It not about you."

"If you say so..." he trailed off. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight."

Lars rolled over onto his back and yawned as he settled to sleep. His breathing relaxed and became calm, and soon he was asleep and snoring. Outside the rain kept falling, the water splashing in the gutter and downpipes. Helena closed her eyes. Her circadian rhythm was royally messed up and she needed to adjust it to something resembling a normal, healthy one. The earlier she fell asleep the earlier she would wake up and the easier it would be to get back to work. The vacation would be over soon enough. All would be as it should be. Helena tried to sleep.

And she slept. She actually managed to fall asleep, believe it or not. The world and its worries faded away, and Helena disappeared into oblivion.

And then she was awake again. Eyes wide open she stared blindly into the darkness. She could vaguely make out the shape of the ceiling lamp, the walls and Lars' still silhouette, but everything else was cloaked in impenetrable shadow. A light, drizzling late was spattering against the window. Helena rolled over onto her side, hugged her pillow and put her head to rest again. She needed sleep.

I didn't matter. She was still wide awake. After what felt like half an hour of closed eyes and half-heartedly counting sheep, Helena rolled over onto her other side. She adjusted the pillow, rearranged her legs beneath the blanket and settled again. Lars coughed in his sleep. Helena yawned, brushed the hair from her face and laid down again.

But of course not. She was not a step closer to reaching that special drowsiness which you know will carry you to sleep. Instead of relaxing her senses sharpened. Lars was snoring heavily besides her. The rain, although light, kept falling outside. A pipe in the wall between the bedroom and bathroom began banging. Helena slowly sat up in bed and looked around, trying to remember where she had put her phone. Her eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness, but it was still too dark to make out any details. She looked towards the bed stand and searched it for anything familiar. There it was. Careful not to accidentally bump into Lars Helena leaned over him and reached out for the phone. She just managed to reach it before she began tipping over, and she quickly retreated to her side of the bed with the device in hand. The display lit up with the intensity of an industrial floodlight and blinded her. She hurriedly turned down the brightness before daring to take a peek at the digital clock.

Four zeroes glowed white in the middle of the display. Midnight. As she squinted at them the last zero switched into a one. It had been barely two hours of sleep. She should have been out like a light after last night, but here she was - completely and utterly wide awake with no company but that of her grinding thoughts.

Just great.

Helena fell back against the wall, eyes still fixed on the glowing display. The last digit switched into a two, and then a three. The minutes crept slowly by. Helena opened her mail and flipped down to the bottom of the page. Notifications from social media, work related stuff and a few pictures from her cousin's trip to Thailand. Nothing too interesting. She existed the application and went back to staring at the screen. Four minutes past 12. The minutes were not crawling anymore but moved with the speed of a crippled snail. Five. Six. Helena checked her messages. Nothing new. Nothing interesting. Nothing which could help her pass the time or ease her mind. Helena returned to the main screen. The glow of the display cast a pale, bluish light over her face as she pointlessly flipped through the applications she had.

Then the phone bleeped - a sound which seemed unnaturally loud in the bedroom. Helena's almost jumped in surprise and she cast a quick glance at Lars to see if he reacted. But she was just being paranoid again. He was still, only his chest rising and falling beneath the blanket with each snore.

'You have (1) new message(s)'

Helena stared at the small notification hovering on the bottom of the screen. Her index finger automatically reached out to swipe it to the side and open the message. At that moment a stream of thoughts flew through her brain. One of them, emerging from somewhere deep within it, perched itself on her metaphorical shoulder and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

What if it was him?

Helena had no idea how he could have acquired her phone number. They did not even know each other's last name, even less where the other lived. And their phone number? Unlikely. But what if it was him...

What if it really was him, and he had somehow managed to figure out what her number was? What next? Would he say that he regretted that they couldn't meet? Or maybe... (Helena's heart jumped a little more the moment that thought zapped through her mind) he had a plan? As Helena's finger pressed down into the screen and moved the glowing notification to the side she became annoyed at herself. Why was she even thinking about such a possibility? Not only was it unlikely, but it also came to show what horrible person she was.

The messenger application opened and with it the message.

'DO YOU WANT TO INCREASE YOUR MONTHLY SURF FOR FREE? WE ARE NOW OFFERING..."

Helena clicked away the add without reading it. How silly was she to even consider that it could have been from him. Silly, stupid and possibly crazy. Most likely she was all of them, although 'clinically insane' would need to be added to the list. Helena sighed. This would be a long, excruciating night, and the day to follow would be one big tired mess. And if she took a nap during the day she would have trouble falling asleep in the evening and everything would start over again. Fuck.

Helena carefully crawled out of bed, circumnavigating her sleeping husband's feet as best she could with the help of the glowing phone display. Her bare feet touched down onto the wooden floor and she made her way over to the wardrobe, grabbing her bathrobe as well as a pair of socks. With the latter softening her step she carefully made her way out of the room. She listened. Only the pattering of rain against the roof disturbed the silence. She snuck out onto the veranda and shivered at the sudden cold. A plaid blanket was resting from the back of one of the chairs, and she quickly swept it around herself before sitting down in one of the comfy seats facing the yard. If she could not sleep she could at least get a little fresh night-time air. She crossed her legs and tucked the ends of the blanket in under herself, creating something of a warm cocoon. Helena checked her phone again. Twelve minutes past midnight. She rubbed her legs for warmth and then leaned back in the seat. There were worse ways to spend a sleepless night than listening to rainfall and browsing the internet in search for distraction. Illuminating her face with the lonely glow of her phone Helena opened the browser and began the search. For what? She had no idea. Anything to pass the time. Funny cat videos might be a good start.

Therefore it surprised her when she, several minutes later, heard a gentle tapping at the glass door - just quiet enough to be discrete, but too determined to be anything but intentional. Her head flew up and she stared into the dark, but her eyes were blind from her phone. Its glow reflected in the glass, dancing back and forth as she tried to use it to see what was on the other side. That was until she realized that it was another phone she saw moving.

Somehow - even somewhat surprising herself - Helena kept her cool. The fact that it could be an intruder did, albeit briefly, cross her mind. The fact that she did not care as much as she should have was worrying.

She walked over to the window with her phone lighting the way before her. The other one lowered and turned off, but now Helena could see the silhouette standing outside. Her heart trembled as she gripped the door handle and slowly pushed it to the side.

"Good night." Jack said.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Helena whispered.

"Can I come in?"

"No." she said. "What are you thinking barging in here like this? Are you crazy?"

"Maybe. Looks like the rain has messed with our plan."

"So what? Why are you here?"

"To see you."

Helena's heart made a summersault, and she needed a moment to gather herself before being able to reply.

"Here?" she hissed. "How dare you? My family is in here..."

"Not here." he spoke, just as calmly as he had since his greeting. "But I know a place. If you want to come, of course."

Helena's grip tightened around her phone as she stared wordlessly at the man in front of her. His face was almost entirely hidden in shadow, and what little light fell upon it was barely enough to outline its shape. But he was carrying an umbrella, that she could see. She had never been able to imagine him carrying one. Helena struggled with an answer. Her mouth opened but not a word came over it. She looked behind her and then at Jack again.

"Where?" she breathed.

"It's a guesthouse not far away."

"Did you break into a guesthouse...?"

"No. It's in my friend's backyard, but he isn't using it. It's empty now. If you want to..."

There was so much in that softly spoken, unfinished suggestion. The way he said it in his rich, deep voice, and the words themselves - all of them were almost hypnotizing. An alluring promise. An offer of a feverish, lust-filled dream. Helena's goosebumps had nothing to do with the night-time chill when she answered.

"Wait."

She could not say anything else. Leaving him standing at the stairs Helena headed into the house, painfully aware of just how loudly her so painfully cautious steps were. The beating of her heart in itself would have been enough to raise the dead. She was even afraid to breathe. She parted the bedroom door and peeked inside. In total darkness and with her phone display turned off Helena slipped across the floor over to the wardrobe and her handbag. She opened it and fumbled as quietly as possible among her many things and trinkets looking for the side pocket. There. Her fingers found the zipper. She drew it open and the sound cut sharply through the air. She stayed herself and listened breathlessly for sound. Still nothing. Everyone was asleep. Her searching hand found the two condom wrappers.

What are you doing, Helena?

Stop.

She didn't stop.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, throat clenched. "I'm so sorry."

Helena made her retreat without looking back. She might have broken down if she had. When out of the house she pushed the front door into place, carefully as to not accidentally lock herself out. One final pause with her senses strained to the limit to make sure that no one was stirring. Her sandals were at the sliding glass door, and beyond the door was Jack.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

"Come."

His hand found hers - strong, dry and warm, and much larger than hers. He pulled and she followed, her sandals and socks almost immediately soaking through in the wet grass. Jack pulled her closer and held the umbrella above them both - or tried, at least - to shield them from the light rain. Helena could feel the warmth radiating from him even through his clothes. Even though he was still only wearing shorts and t-shirt, he had plenty of heat to spare. It seeped into her and warmed her. Like in a twisted dream Helena followed him out through the fence gate and onto the road which smelt of wet asphalt. They passed dark cottages and hedges, and then there were on the driveway to No 6. Helena froze.

"What about the others?" she whispered.

"What about them?"

"They're in there, aren't they?"

"They're all asleep." Jack said calmly. "The guesthouse is behind the house. Come."

There was only one way to go now. The last chance to refuse had passed a long time ago. Their feet crunched against the gravel as Jack led her onwards. The house was large - larger than Maria's and Rasmus' place - and had a big glass veranda in the same style. Helena watched the cottage as they rounded it, again wondering about the redhead girl inside. Did she know about Jack's absence, and did she know about what he did? Was she watching from one of the dark windows? Helena's hand clasped the condoms even tighter.

Behind the cottage she saw the shape of a squatter, much smaller building made of wood, painted read and sporting white corners in classical Swedish summerhouse style. When they walked up the steps in under the awning she could feel water squishing around in her socks, and she wondered why she had bothered taking sandals at all. Jack let go of her and folded the umbrella. Helena worriedly watched the dark house behind their back, just waiting for a light to turn on and somebody discovering them. Behind her Jack opened the door. He even bid her to enter with a gesture of his hand. Trembling from cold, nervousness and excitement Helena entered the house. The door closed behind her and plunged everything into total darkness.

She heard Jack move about behind her, and then him fiddling with something metallic. There was a click, and then a warm, yellow glow spread through the room.

"Is that kerosene?" she mumbled, looking at the glass lantern on the cupboard in the corner of the room.

"It's electric." Jack said. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not... I'm just... surprised."

"We can't go around in total darkness, eh?" The light chased away some of the shadows from his face, and she saw him smile.

"But won't someone see it from outside?"

"I don't think so." Jack said, pulling down the shutter over the two windows. "And at this time of night, who would be?"

Helena looked around, her arms and bathrobe still tightly wrapped around her frame to keep out the chill. This place was really just one big room with wooden floor and walls. There was a futon-couch in one corner next to a small and probably ancient box-shaped TV, and two bunk beds occupied the wall opposite. The interior was austere, but in this light it almost looked homely.

"So this is a guesthouse?" she asked.

"Yeah. My friend has a lots of friends and family, and when they come here they all need space. There are even more beds inside the house."

"And does your friend... know that you're here?"

"No. But I don't intend trashing it either."

"Do you even sleep at night?"

"I don't sleep all that much in general."

They looked at each other in silence, and for every second that past it became more and more awkward. Even though he was standing several steps away Jack still seemed to tower above her. He really was tall. Helena let her eyes glide over the room again as if searching for something worth of note. The silence continued. Her heart was at it again, beating faster than necessary and stressing her out even more.

"Your socks."

"What?"

"Your socks." Jack said with a nod at her feet. "They are pretty wet."

"Oh." Helena took of her sandals and wiggled her toes. The socks were most definitively soaked. "You're right. Can I..?"

"Of course."

Leaving wet footprints on the wooden floor Helena made her way over to the futon. Sitting down on the edge she pulled the socks off and let them fall to the floor between her feet. Her toes were cold, and she rubbed them between her hands to get the blood flowing again. Jack sat down beside her, and she felt the weight shift on the couch springs beneath them. When seated he reached out and gently gripped her foot to place it in his lap. Resting her hands against the cushion behind her for support, Helena silently watched. In contrast with her skin his fingers were almost burning hot. But pleasant. Very pleasant. Jack began rubbing her foot. His grip and movements were soft and gentle, but still determined. He began with her toes, kneading each and every one of them one by one. Then turn came to the rest of her forefoot. Here he was a little rougher with the arch of her foot, using both thumbs to put pressure on the muscle. He finished with her heal and then slid both hands to her toes before letting go. Jack looked at her, and Helena, swinging the right one onto the couch, offered him the left. Still none of them had uttered a word. His fingers, strong but deft, rubbed and squeezed her flesh in an ever-moving motion over her foot. Finally, when he was just about done, he raised her foot to his face and gave it a soft, brief kiss.

"Better?"

"Thanks." Helena said, feeling silly as she sat with one foot in the air. At least her bathrobe hung down in such a way to prevent a blatant upskirt. "It was very nice. You're good."

His beautiful thick lips curved up into a smile. He let go and Helena found herself sitting on the couch with legs outstretched towards him. Jack's dark, almost black eyes, were fixed on her, and she met their gaze with all the steadiness she could muster.

"What if I wasn't going to be on the veranda? What were you planning to do then? Break in? Knock on the window?"

His grin grew wider. "Luckily it did not come to that."

"You shouldn't have done it. If someone had seen you..." she ended that sentence before it had been completed and replaced it with another. "It would have been bad."

"You're right." he agreed. "But nobody saw me. And nobody saw you, I hope."

She did not even want to think about that possibility. Helena's lip - so used to by now to be chewed upon - once again found itself clenched by her teeth. She searched for words to say. The whole situation was crazy - she was in a stranger's guesthouse with a man she barely knew but who was probably going to fuck her. It was not the backdrop she had expected - not at all - but it was still the moment she had dreaded and anticipated since last night. Since the moment she had whispered that she wanted him.