Past Imperfect (20 page)

“Well, things are okay.”

“Things don’t look okay. When was the last time this place was cleaned?”

“I know. I’m not much of a housekeeper.”

“You should hire a maid to come in a few times a week.”

“Yeah, I will.”

I thought my memories of the aftermath of Mom’s death were pretty vivid, but being back here and seeing my dad, they appeared in HD. I wanted to fire off the questions I’ve been wanting answers to and then get the hell out of there, but I knew now wasn’t the time. He still seemed in shock to see me back here.

“I’ll go put my things up and then make dinner.”

“I don’t really have much food in the house. We could order out if you want.”

Standing, I said, “Sounds fine.” He gave me a weak smile before I headed down the hall.

The stale smell hit me as I stepped into my room. In fact, the entire house had a terrible musty odor. I wondered when the last time a window was opened to allow fresh air in. My room was exactly how it was two years ago, which was exactly how it was the day my mom died. The house was like a fucking time capsule. As I walked around looking at my past, resentment and anger kept building with each minute. I hated how weak and pathetic my dad was. I hated that he had let the house deteriorate like this. I hated that his existence was still in the past. Standing in front of my dresser, I caught the reflection of my bedroom door in the mirror. The first door I hid behind, shutting the world out. The first door I sought relief from. The first door that gave me my first lumps, bumps, and bruises. Maybe my dad wasn’t the only one living in the past.

The next morning I woke up early and removed the piles from the family room. I dusted, mopped, and did several loads of laundry all while my dad sat and either watched the TV or read the newspaper. Occasionally, I caught him staring at me. The look in his eyes was strange, as if he still couldn’t believe I was there.

I sat at the kitchen table sorting through a ton of unopened mail. “Dad, did you know you have past due notices?”

“I’ll get to it tomorrow, Mabry. Don’t worry about them.”

“Well, do you have the money to pay your bills?”

“Yes,” he said flatly, never looking up from his newspaper.

“Then you need to pay the bills on time. You can set up automatic draft so they’ll come out of your account.”

“Maybe I should do that. I have a hard time remembering those kinds of things. Your mother used to take care of all that, you know.” He said it as if she had just died a few weeks ago instead of eleven years ago. I resented the fact that he was still using her death as an excuse to avoid his responsibilities.

“You can’t keep using that as an excuse.”

He finally looked up from his paper. “I’m not using it as an excuse. It’s a fact. She handled all of the bills.”

“She’s been gone for eleven years, Dad.” Annoyance flowed through my tone.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You act as if she just died.”

“Some days it feels that way. I miss her so much,” he said in a low voice.

“Then why did you let her do it?” I asked under my breath. My tone matching the lack of emotion in my face.

“What?” He slowly lowered the newspaper.

Looking up and directly into his eyes, I repeated, “Why did you let her do it?”

“Do what?”

“Kill herself, Dad.”

His expression shifted from sad to offended. “Why would you ask something so horrible?”

“Why won’t you answer me?”

“Because there is no answer. I adored your mother. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

I stood and walked toward him, stopping a few feet away. “You never did anything to save her either.”

“Mabry, that’s enough. Why are you being so cruel to me?” His voice was shaky.

“You knew she was sick for a long time and you didn’t do anything. You let her slip away.” Years of pent-up anger and resentment were rising to the surface. My legs felt weak and were barely holding me up. I reached out and placed my hand on the back of the sofa to steady myself. I was determined not to move. I wanted answers. I needed answers. “Just tell me why you never forced her to go to the doctor or take her medicine.”

“You can’t force a person to do something they don’t want to do.” The sadness returned to his eyes.

His words slapped me in the face. I slowly walked to the sofa and sat. I was always angry at my mom for leaving me, but over the years I had come to believe that she had no control over herself. That she was lost so deep in the darkness that she couldn’t distinguish a right decision from a wrong one. I believed she wanted to stay with us, with me, but needed a hand to reach out and guide her back to us.

“Why did she want to leave us?” My bottom lip quivered as I tried to hold back my tears. I looked at my dad, my eyes pleading with him to answer,
She didn’t have a choice. Her actions were out of her control.

“She was just tired,” he said flatly.

“She wasn’t tired of being my mom.” Tears were streaming down my face.

“She was just tired of
being
, sweetheart, so she finally made the choice that day to stop.”

She made the choice.

My chest caved in as all the air rushed out of my lungs when I heard those words. Sobs were escaping me at a rapid pace while my heart and soul shattered.

She made the decision to leave me. She didn’t want to be my mom anymore.

My eyes were so blurry from my tears I didn’t see my dad approach and sit beside me. I flinched when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Mabry. She did love you, but she just couldn’t pretend to be happy any longer.” His voice trailed off, whispering the last few words.

Wiping my eyes, I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to compose myself, and asked, “Did you blame me? Is that why you just left me alone?”

We stared at each other for several seconds. The look in his eyes answered my question.

“It was hard to be there for you because you’re just like her, and I missed her so much. I still do. Even now it hurts. You have her blue eyes, soft chestnut hair, and creamy pale skin. You’re so beautiful.” He raised a trembling hand, cupping the side of my face, and gently ran his thumb back and forth over my cheek.

The air in the room changed and so did the look in his eyes. I could tell he no longer saw his daughter sitting in front of him. He was looking at the love of his life. A chill ran through me when he shifted his position. His hand slid to the back of my neck. Leaning toward me slightly, he pulled me in closer as he tilted his head. I jerked away from him and jumped up. My breathing was shallow and erratic. I felt like I was going to be sick.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” I blurted out.

I ran down the hallway to my room, quickly threw my things in my suitcase, and headed for the front door. Before leaving I looked back and saw my father still on the sofa, sobbing into his hands. Tears gushed out of me as I realized that any hope I might have had to someday get him back was gone.

I’m sitting in front of her as she leans back on my desk, proofing a letter for me, her dark rimmed glasses perched on her adorable little nose. Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun, exposing that spot right at the nape of her neck that drives her crazy when I run my tongue over it. As usual her makeup is light and natural, except today she’s wearing a deep red lipstick, making her lips look extra pouty. She raises the pen she’s holding and slips the tip of it into her mouth. My dick immediately twitches. My eyes roam down her body admiring the way her light gray dress glides over every curve so smoothly. I wonder if she’s even wearing panties. I shift uncomfortably in my chair. Looking down I recognize the sexy black heels with the strap around the ankle. They were draped over my shoulders and digging into my back a couple of nights ago when I had Mabry on the edge of the dining room table, my face buried between her thighs. I look back up, trying to control the urge to shove her dress up and have a repeat performance of that night. My eyes stop at the wide black leather belt around her waist.
Fuck me.
We’ve used that on occasion too. No matter what part of her body my eyes land on, my dick reacts. I know she feels my gaze because her nipples are hard and straining against the material of her dress. I take in a deep breath and let it out quickly.

“You sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable sitting on my lap?” I smirk up at her.

The corners of her mouth curl into a sexy grin. The pen she’s holding is aimed in my direction. “We agreed. No funny business at work.”

I run my hand up her thigh and feel the shiver that moves through her body.

Sweet baby Jesus! I think I feel a garter.

“Sweetness, the business I’m thinking about engaging in would definitely not be funny. I hope it wouldn’t be anyway.” I ease out of my chair, inching my way up her body as I say, “That’d be quite a blow to my ego if you were to laugh as I bring you to the ultimate height of ecstasy.” I flash her
the smile
as I cock my eyebrow
.

We’re face-to-face now. My hands planted firmly on either side of her hips, caging her in. Her chest rises and falls a little faster than normal as she looks directly at me. My lips skim down the side of her face heading toward her mouth, and I nibble lightly at the corners. She’s so caught up in the moment, I’m able to take the letter from her and toss it on my desk.

Moving my mouth to her ear, I whisper, “Let’s play hot secretary and bossy naughty boss.”

Her body shakes as the most beautiful sound in the world flows out of her mouth. “It’s amazing how you can get me hot and make me laugh at the same time.”

“I’m a full-service love machine, Sweetness. I can make you laugh, moan, scream, and beg for more.” I kiss a path along her jaw and down her neck.

“So this hot secretary and bossy naughty boss… Who gets to be the boss?” she asks in a low sexy voice.

“You’ll always be the boss of me,” I say against her neck.

“Okay.” It comes out like a sigh as she tilts her head to the side, exposing more of her neck to me. She allows me to linger a few seconds before shoving me back. The look in her eyes is smoldering, intense, and makes me completely hard. “Well, Bradley, I was not pleased with the report you turned in to me.” She places her hands on the desk, leaning back on them for support.

“I apologize for my incompetency, Ms. Darnell. Maybe this will please you.” I take a step toward her.

She quickly extends her leg, planting the sharp heel of her shoe on the lower half of my chest. “I’ll be the one to tell
you
what pleases me.”

A huge grin crosses my face.

“Now, do as you’re told or I’ll report you for being insubordinate.”

“You’re the best girlfriend ever.”

She pushes her heel gently into my chest. “Get serious or I’ll be forced to slap that hot as fuck grin off your face.” She tries to keep the stern look, but a slight smirk sneaks across her lips.

“Yes ma’am.” A smile starts to play on my face but I quickly make it disappear.

Lowering her leg, she instructs. “Pay attention, I’m going to tell you exactly what I want you to do.” She peers at me over her glasses. “Do you need to write this down?”

“I got it.”

“Excuse me?” she asks, flirty sarcasm flowing through her words.

“I mean, no ma’am. I’ll pay attention and remember everything you tell me.”

She removes her glasses and places them on the desk. “Good to hear that, Bradley. The first thing I’ll want you to do is get on your knees in front of me and run your nose up my leg to my inner thigh while your hands shove my dress over my hips.”

My breathing picks up and every hair on my body rises. “Yes ma’am.”

“Then I want your tongue to flick me down there,” she says, glancing down. “I like it fast and hard.”

I take in a big gulp of air. “I can do fast and hard.”

“Next, I’ll have you to peel my dress off. You’ll then drag your tongue up to my tits and suck them hard. I basically want everything hard, Bradley. Do you think you can be hard with me?”

“I’m already hard.”

She smiles and says, “I can see that. You know just the thought of you inside of me is making me wetter than I’ve ever been before.”

“Mabry…” My entire body vibrates with tension. I can feel tiny beads of sweat on my forehead and my breathing sounds as if I’ve sprinted around the building several times.

“No, no, no…” she says in a sing-songy way.

“Ms. Darnell, as I’m getting harder so is the ability to stand here and not attack you.”

“Just one more thing. After you sufficiently tongue fuck me, you’ll bend me over this desk…” She stands, turns, and bends over the desk in front of me. “…you’ll properly fuck me. Pounding into me hard, fast, and continuously.”

I make my way to her immediately. When she stands, her back meets my chest, surprising her. My hands glue themselves to her tits, massaging and pinching as I suck that special spot at the nape of her neck. Her hands grab my hips, pulling them to her as she grinds her ass against my dick.

“Brad, we can’t do this now. We need to stop,” she moans breathlessly.

My lips move to just below her ear. “Shhh, Ms. Darnell, I’m working on a raise.”