A Sunday Kind of Love

There are four chambers in a humane heart, but mine was more like a maze. Keeping all seekers away.

Another year was ending, and my best friend threatened to cut all ties with me if I didn’t go with him to a New Year’s Eve party. “Oh, come on, it’ll do you good. I know what’s best for you” he said, teasingly, knowing those last word will irritate the hell out of me. Surprisingly, I just said yes.

The party was held in a beautiful country house, built with dark wood and immersed in a citrusy scent. As we walked up the driveway we could hear the music coming from inside, and when we entered the door I was a taken back by how many people where there.

“You said it was going to be a small house party. Jeez, it looks like Times Square in here” I shouted into my friend’s ear, but he just smiled at me and motioned towards the bar “I’ll go get us some drinks”. That was the last I saw him that night.

Not an empty seat in sight I leaned against the wall and felt the headache ensued by the loud music. I looked around and spotted a staircase leading to the second floor. Upstairs I found a room with a lit fireplace. I closed the door behind me and sat on the couch. Although muffled, I could feel my head thumping to the beat of the music coming from downstairs. I put my head between my hands and tried to squeeze the pain away.

A few minutes passed when the door opened and a woman was standing there. “Would you close the door please? The music is really loud”. There was a look of surprise in her eyes as she gazed at me, and then she slowly closed the door behind her.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked. “You look a little pale”.

“I’m fine. It’s just a nasty headache”.

“I think I can help”. She sat on the couch, her back leaning against the side of it and crossed her legs. “Here, lie down and rest your head”.

My hesitance clear, she leaned forward and reached her hand to me. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing”.

There was something in her voice just then, so tender, that I could feel my resistance melting. I turned around and lay down, my head between her legs.  

She placed her fingers on my temples and started massaging them with small circular motions. “It’s OK to breathe” she said “In fact, it’s recommended”.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No. Not at all. Now be quiet”.

Slowly, she moved her hands, and when she slid them down the back of my neck, it felt as if her fingers were everywhere, and the sweet warm sensation came over me like a wave. She felt my shiver but did not stop, her hands moving towards my chest. I took a deep breath. If it were any deeper, I might have fainted.

“Now exhale” she whispered, and my face turned red with blush. The warmth of her lap drew me in and surrounded me like a soft embrace. I let go and surrendered my self to her touch.  

When I opened my eyes I found myself lying on the couch, alone. No music, just the sounds of crackling fire woods. I looked over and saw her sitting on an armchair by the fireplace, reading a book.

She looked up and smiled at me. “You dozed off there for a little while. Are you feeling any better?”

“I am. I’m all better. What time is it?” 

“I’m not sure, but its way past midnight. Everyone’s gone home”.

“Wouldn’t they mind us being here?” I asked, sitting up.

“If by ‘they’ you mean the hosts of the party, then no, I don’t mind” she said, smiling again.

We sat there quietly for a few moments when she suddenly asked “Would you like to dance?”

Not waiting for my answer, she got up, went over to the stereo and turned it on, filling the room with the velvet voice of Etta James. She came towards me and for the second time that night reached her hand out to me. I got up and pulled her close. Resting one hand on her back and the other her collarbone I could feel her tremble. I moved even closer and with my mouth to her ear I whispered “Just breathe”.

“Do you know this song?”

“A Sunday Kind of Love” I replied, the words rolling like wine in my mouth.

Her hand slowly travelled to the small of my back, and once again I shivered.

“I’m sorry you missed your New Year’s Eve kiss”.

I looked at her and smiled “That’s OK, I’m Jewish”.    

She tilted her head back, laughing. I swayed her gently, and as I pulled her back to me, I met her with a kiss, lingering the tip of my tongue on her lip.

That night she found her way through my mazy heart.

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