The Engagement Party - Part Two

Adelaide had never been sure if she had ever been in love. She thought she might have been. But in her scepticism she dismissed it as the illusion caused by heady summer days spent by the lake, under the willow trees, drinking wine and making love. No. She had loved Carl, at one time, but been in love with him? Had he loved her? She could not say. This irresolute confusion swirled around her head, simultaneously confirmed by the diamond on her left hand, and disproved by her disgust at his very touch. The three words missing from their stilted conversations assured her of her feelings.

The Adelaide of the previous summer may not have reached the same conclusion. Being forgotten about allowed the freedom to disappear for hours, often whole days, without being noticed. What had begun as a meeting in a fragrant, freesia-strewn garden party quickly blossomed into lazy days in the arms of a Southern boy who would eventually buy her a diamond and ask for her hand. For once, Adelaide was thankful that Eleanor was getting married. Her mother’s diverted attentions were no loss to Adelaide, and her subconscious feeling of want was eased by expensive wine and Carl’s strong embrace. The lake was secluded and owned by Carl’s aunt and uncle; there was no invasion of the young couple’s days in the hazy sunshine.

The lake and the flowers and the long grass and the warmth danced in Adelaide’s mind as she lay under Carl’s heavy form. She struggled to detach her head from her body and the feeling of her fiancé between her legs, allowing the warm, sweet images of summer to wash over her. She closed her eyes tighter until her ears buzzed, blocking out Carl’s heavy, uneven breaths.

The first time he had made love to her had not made her recoil in alarm or distaste. It was gentle, passionate, frightening and exciting all at the same time. As Carl made his way back up to their spot under the willows from his swim in the lake, Adelaide sat up on her elbows and shielded her eyes to the sun which silhouetted his dripping form. He walked with intent. He reached the blanket on which she lay he knelt down beside her. He held her chin and placed his cool lips on hers. Adelaide sat up and slowly pulled him towards her, his wet hair soaking through the chiffon sleeves of her dress. They kissed, unmoving, caught in time, hidden in their secret grove beneath the trees. He pushed his wet torso into her thin frame, the water from his body soaking into the light fabric and onto her own skin. He stroked her cheek with his thumb and began to kiss her bare neck. She tilted back her head and closed her eyes, smiling, a faint laugh escaping from her lips. The soaked material clung to her body, sticking to every line and bone and curve of her exquisite form. He peeled the wet chiffon off her shoulders, continuing in a trail of kisses. He stopped to slowly unbutton the front of her dress, her small round breasts no longer in relief under the wetness of the material. Her white skin, slightly freckled in the sun, was warm under his touch. She lay back, arching her body up to meet his mouth, her breathing quickening as he trailed his tongue over her pink nipples. His mouth moved down across the damp chiffon over her stomach. He ran his hand up the back of her leg and down the inside of her thigh. She instinctively pressed her knees together as between her legs burned. He kissed her hand. Reassured, she allowed him to part her legs and he planted more kisses on her inner thighs. He slid her dress up to her waist and pushed her underwear to the side. She opened her eyes suddenly at the sensation of his warm breath between her legs. He saw her body tense and felt for her hand. She clutched his fingers and trusted him.

Later, spent and sleepy, Adelaide lay stretched out on the blanket in the dusk, her dress still undone and her hair loose about her face. The crushed chiffon, folded about the tops of her bare legs, stirred slightly in the cooler breeze. Carl leant against a tree and took another swig of wine, followed by a pensive drag on a dwindling cigarette. He smashed the butt underfoot and flopped down beside his lover. Adelaide turned to face him, a somnambulant smile playing across her lips.

“We should go.” Carl stared out across the lake.

No, Adelaide thought as she lay limply on her bed. Those were not the three words she had been looking for.