Second Thoughts by Kristofer Clarke Page B

against the counter. I kept my eyes in my mug, keeping them from straying in his direction. Though he still had on his silk pajama bottoms, he had covered his hard pectorals with a white v-neck t-shirt. It hugged every ripple in his torso and stopped just where his pajamas began. 
    “Does Devine Intervention sound better?” I answered, bringing the mug to my lips.
    Though I wouldn’t look at him, I could feel him now looking at me.
    “’Cause we both knew what we were…”
    “Tell me why you won’t look me in my eyes,” he interrupted.
    “Cause you know what it does to me,” I said, finally allowing my eyes to meet his. “Wait,” I said, as if I had just been bitch-slapped back to my senses. “Look, Dillon. What happened between us last night simply cannot happen again.”
    I walked to the other side of the island to distant myself from Dillon.
    “But…”
    “What can’t happen again?” Vanessa broke in.
    She had just rounded the corner and into the kitchen. She walked over to the counter where Dillon stood and removed the second mug of coffee he had just poured for himself.
    “Thanks,” she said, and then took a sip from her mug. “So, what can’t happen again?” she continued.
    Dillon and I stood, looked each other and then at Nessa. There was so much truth in silence. Say something, fool , I thought. I wished he could read my eyes, but he just stood there. I had to think quickly, and what came out of my mouth surprised me.
    “I broke down last night telling Dillon about Mom.”
    Vanessa quickly placed her mug on the table and walked over to me. With her hands on both of my arms, she pulled me into her. I cringed. My body stiffened. I slowly brought my arms up and rested the palms of my hands on her back. This moment is going to come back and bite me in the ass, I thought, staring at Dillon.  
    “What made you bring her up last night?” she asked, finally releasing me.
    She walked to the refrigerator and stood with both doors open. Dillon was still sta nding ⎯ mute. His eyes said so much, and I prayed Nessa didn ’ t look at him.
    “You haven’t talked about Mommy in years.” I stared at Dillon as I contemplated an escape.
    “Every now and then, the image of her lifeless body lying in my arms comes to mind. Usual ly I would deal with it, but for whatever reason, last night that same image became overwhelming.”
    “You’ve been dealing with this since you were fifteen, Taylor, and you refuse to talk to anyone about it.”
    “I talked to Dillon.”
    Damn, I thought. I was lying through my teeth, and she was falling for it.     
    “I meant to a professional…like I did.”
    “You never did mind telling your business to strangers.”
    My coffee had become lukewarm, and interest in finishing it had left, along with the interest of continuing this conversation with Nessa.
    “I just had a moment, that’s it.”
    “Obviously, that’s not it.”
    “Honey,” Dillon said, finally finding his words.
    “Yes,” Vanessa answered. “Why don’t you come to the hospital on Thursday? You can speak to Dr. Reeves.”
    She kept her focus on me.
    “Nessa, seriously, that’s not even necessary.”
    I despised having to use my mother’s final moments to hide my inappropriate behavior between my sister’s husband and myself. Yes, I was only fifteen years old when she passed. I’d sat on the living room floor with my mother’s head resting in my lap. I was helpless. I felt helpless. In a whisper I kept asking her, “Where is he?” But she couldn’t speak. Nothing I needed to hear came from her. The ambulance was on its way, and although I prayed they would hurry, I knew she would be gone before they arrived. I pleaded with her, “Mom, please don’t leave without telling me,” but all she did was stare up at me with big wide eyes. I’d stroked her face with the back of my hand, but I could feel her getting cold as she slipped further and further away from life. “Mom, please.