The Language of the Son by Laura Moe

Author:Laura Moe [Moe, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781077682429
Publisher: Laura Moe Books
Published: 2019-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

Two velvet moons,

the scent of coconut and earth,

your breasts are the landscape of my desire.

Skin as delicate as the inside of a flower,

Satiny, and stained with my fingertips,

Your breasts are fire to my coal.

Your waist is a tapered candle,

Your thighs are silken anchors,

Your hips are my salvation.

Chapter Fourteen

Peri and I lie side by side in the darkened room, the ceiling fan whirring above us, her sleeping body all hills and valleys. I glide my hand over her and she murmurs and opens her eyes.

“Hi.”

“Hmmmmm.” Her voice is full of sleep. She rolls onto her back and her eyes flash open. “What time is it?”

I check my phone. “10:15.”

“Oh crap.” Peri sits up. “I have to work the early shift tomorrow.” She gets out of bed and gathers her clothes. I slip into my boxers and she tosses me my T-shirt.

“You could spend the night.”

“You’ve met my mother,” she says. “Do you really think that would happen?”

“Yeah. I guess not.”

She clasps her bra behind her. “This was fun, though.”

“It was.” I zip up my shorts. “But we never ate dinner.”

She shrugs. “It’s kind of too hot to eat.”

As we walk into the kitchen, Jack stirs by the back door. “Are you hungry?” He harrumphs. “Come on, buddy.” I fill the dogs’ food and water bowls.

Peri stands at the sink sipping tap water. “What are you thinking about?”

I close the dog food container. “That this is awkward, and I’m a little hungry.”

“We could always eat a piece of tiramisu.”

“Sounds good to me.”

She opens the fridge and pulls out the pastry box. “This is best with coffee or espresso, but it’s too late for caffeine.”

“How about with a glass of wine?”

“That would work.”

I open my father’s wine cooler. “What kind?”

She glances through the labels and pulls out a bottle of white.” Orvieto is a nice, light wine.” Like Shelly, Peri seems to know about wine.

I’ve watched Jennifer and my father operate the wine opening gizmo several times, but my attempt is an epic fail. I get the opener stuck in the cork.

“You went too deep,” Peri touches a button. The opener retracts, but is still jammed. “Do you have a regular corkscrew?”

“I dunno.” We look through several drawers until Peri finds one.

She winds the thing inside the bottle and pops the cork. “There’s still pieces of cork inside, but we can pick them out.” Peri pours us each a glass.

I find a jazz station on the radio. “Should we eat the cake right out the box or be civilized and cut it?”

“Let’s be civilized,” she says.

I gather two small plates, two forks and a large knife. “How do we cut this?”

Peri takes the knife and slices us each a slab of dessert. We carry our plates and glasses outside.

There’s a lighter on the table and I flick it on to light the tiki torches.

“This is nice.” Peri sits in one of the Adirondack chairs. “It feels cooler now.” She picks up her glass and the wine shimmers in the torch glow. Her skin is amber.

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