By Mia Zachary
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Extra resources for Afternoon Delight
He’d felt like his chest was on fire from the pressure of holding back sobs of anguish. Don’t go, Daddy. Don’t leave me. As his father turned away, the pressure bubble inside him had popped and the tears flowed freely. It was the last time Chris ever cried. He’d seen his father regularly, during awkward visits and strained outings, but it felt like there was a hollow space inside him. His mother had wanted her husband back, though, so Chris had done what he could—getting in trouble at school so his parents would have to meet in the principal’s office.
The main dance floor occupied what had once been the orchestra pit. The balconies were used for VIP suites. Paintings of legends like Cher and Tina Turner decorated the red velvet upholstered walls and the theatre seats had been grouped around glass tables shaped like lips. Twirling spotlights and strobes illuminated the sheer yards of fabric draped from the frescoed ceiling. Even on a Thursday night, the club was packed. J. had to lean close to her ear to be heard as she handed over a shot glass of green liquid.
If ever she was going to take a chance and have some irresponsible fun it was right here, right now, with this man. He settled her into his embrace for the slow, romantic ballad. She wrapped her arms around his waist. He was so much taller that her head only came to his shoulder. Their bodies fell into rhythm with the music and with each other. Neither of them had yet to speak but words seemed unnecessary. When two people were this strongly attracted, what really needed to be said? His left hand rested in the center of her back while his right hand slid beneath her hair.