Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

LETTIE

T his is the life of luxury. Everything I've experienced has been gifted to me by the Greathouse family. Spring Break, Dane. Cruise to Mexico, Dane. Fancy restaurants, Dane. NBA games, Dane. Our 8 th grade trip to Washington DC, Dane. Swim lessons, Dane. And of course, my riding lessons were free from the Greathouse Farms trainer.

But I've never seen a place so opulent as the Resort at Buttermilk Falls. Its rich earthy tones and heavy woods are the backdrop to crystal chandeliers and white chaise loungers. Homey, yet you know only rich people can afford to stay here.

A host shows us to the locker room and gives us keys and rules. No phones or watches. Mrs. Greathouse removes her Rolex and places it inside with the rest of her clothes and small purse.

I go to the bathroom and come out in my bathing suit. Mrs. Greathouse says, "We'll do fifteen minutes in the hot springs to remove the toxins then we'll get a massage and facial."

"I was hoping to take a nap before the fundraiser."

"You may have time. Let's go.

We walk outside where the springs are surrounded by smooth boulders with guests relaxing against them, and some are wading in the center. Some with bathing suits and some without. Mrs. Greathouse has a great figure for any age but for fifty, I hope I look like that. It's easier to be pretty when you have tons of money, and you can afford to get facials every day and spend five hundred dollars on a massage or thousand on an eye lift. I'm not saying she's had an eye lift, but she has had several Botox parties where her dermatologist comes to her house, and she invites friends to have the out of office procedure.

She talks to a few people but then sits beside me. And when I remain quiet she asks, "Is something on your mind?" Dane's mom has always been able to tell when I'm off. Not angry or sad, just off.

"Things are changing between Dane and me. In less than a year we'll be living apart. It's hard to think about."

"Changing how?" his mom asks. "Have you talked to him about how you feel? Have you asked him if he wants to be somewhere without you?"

I shake my head. "For the first time there are awkward moments between us. I know we have to grow up sometime. I guess it's a good thing I'm leaving next week fo r a month. It'll be like a trial run." I let out the mother of all sighs.

"You being gone is good because you're striving to reach your goals, just like Dane is. Your identity isn't as Dane's best friend. It's as a kick ass girl who has beat the odds of having shit parents. Excuse my language."

A smile tugs at my lips. This is why I love her—she believes in me and wants the best for me, not just Dane. As I confide in his mother, who's my step-in mother , worry creeps into my mind as I contemplate the possibility that she may see Dane and me as a couple, taboo. I jump in with both feet and say, "He kissed me last week. I wasn't sure it was so fast, but it was different from any kiss he's ever given me."

His mom smiles. "What do you mean it was so fast and you're not sure? He either kissed you romantically or gave you a peck like he always does. Have you talked about it?"

"No and everything is weird." I explain the sunset, the glow necklaces and how he put mine on and then he lingered while leaning over my shoulder and I closed my eyes.

"Why did you close your eyes? Did you want him to kiss you?"

"I don't know and why would he kiss me?" I stress the word would.

Mrs. Greathouse pats my hand. "You're special to him. You must know that."

Grateful for her words of wisdom, I have a sense of excitement that when Dane reaches the NBA, our friendship will continue. And I can't help but feel comforted to hav e her as a mom figure and someone I can confide in.

Dane and I do have a special bond but is it unbreakable? He kissed me and then thought better of it. Or else why did he stop and not give me a chance to respond?

We would be lost without each other and if we entered into a relationship as more than friends and it didn't work out, our bond would be broken. One of us would be hurting in the end.

Our host says, "Ladies, it's time for your massage." She holds out towels. "Miss, you need to take off your bathing suit and put it in the locker."

"Yes ma'am." After we dry off, she hands us robes.

A few minutes later my face is mushed into a hole and I'm a little panicked. I don't like to be trapped. The masseuse lays the heavy cover over my head, and I say, "No. No."

Mrs. Greathouse says, "Are you okay?"

"No, please don't put the cover over my head. It's heavy and I feel like I can't breathe."

The lady rolls it down the warm weighted cover to my shoulders and I let out a relieved exhale and my muscles relax, somewhat.

"Is that better?" she asks.

"Yes thank you."

Her strong yet delicate hands knead and soothe the tense muscles in my back, I close my eyes, finally relaxing into the padded table. My worries get pushed to the recesses of my mind as the sweet aroma of lavender and eucalyptus fills the air. The soft instrumental music playing in the background lulls me into a peaceful trance, and I surrender to the blissful sensation of being pampered.

As the therapist works her magic, I feel a sense of rejuvenation washing over me. But as she rubs some sort of citrus oil over my legs in deep long strokes, a vision of Dane appears, and I think of how his hands would feel skating up my body for one purpose only—to please me. To make me come.

She taps my hip, probably feeling me tense up. "Time to turnover." I roll over as she holds up the sheet and blanket and turns her head. Lana moves behind me and works on my neck and shoulders before massaging the muscles in my arms and legs.

"Ladies, I'll be back to take you for your facials in ten minutes. Try to keep your mind clear."

"Lettie, I need to use the restroom. I'll see you in a few. Take your time and just enjoy this feeling."

I nod and when the door closes, my hand lifts from the side and slips up to cover my breast. Before I realize what I'm doing, my other hand softly explores between my legs and my nipples harden. "Dane, Dane."

Imagining it's his lips sucking my breast and his fingers gliding through my wet folds, my legs tense and squeeze together. My back arches off the table. "Ahhh." My back hits the table as I feel my arousal leaking out.

"What am I doing?" I ask myself aloud.

This was su pposed to be my escape from my chaotic thoughts, but it's only brought them to the forefront. It's apparent that I can't control these feelings. Dane and I have to talk.