Something in your eyes, makes me want to lose myself
Bree Van De Kamp squeezes her eyes closed and revels in the warm, lazy feeling currently overtaking her body. She so rarely experiences anything that could be described as ‘warm’ or ‘lazy’. So when she does, she tries to grab each second and hold on tight to it, so it can never be lost.
Tom had taken the little Scavos to the park, thoughtfully. Coffee and bitching had turned into wine. Wine had turned into more.
The tousled blonde head resting on her shoulder turns and presses a kiss to her collar-bone, eliciting a blissful smile from Bree as the kiss turns into a playful nipping up her neck, ending with a deep, sensuous meeting of lips.
Lynette draws back and hovers over Bree, drinking in her dishevelled hair, her swollen lips and darkened eyes. And knowing she caused it. But what she most likes being the cause of is the genuine happiness on Bree’s face. In Lynette’s arms her normally rigid expressions evaporate, she is relaxed and radiant. Lynette grins down at Bree and steals another quick kiss before rolling over and reaching for the two half-drunk wine glasses on the night stand.
The wine is cheap, poured from a box with a tap attached, and so not Bree. But she takes a deep swallow nonetheless and enjoys the warming sensation running down her throat. She rests back against the pillows that smell faintly of Tom and sighs. Lynette lies back down and waits. She knows there’s something to come.
“Andrew thinks he’s gay.”
Lynette leans up on her elbow and looks at Bree. Bree’s eyes remain closed, her wine glass resting lightly on her abdomen.
It’s all Lynette can think of to say.
“I’m afraid I didn’t take the news too well. I may have…upset him with my reaction.”
Lynette laces her fingers through Bree’s and squeezes.
“Why? What d’ya do?”
Bree’s mouth tightens into a firm line. She opens her eyes and turns her head to look at Lynette.
“I walked out.”
Lynette’s left eyebrow creeps up.
“Ya walked out?”
“Well, it just came as such a shock. And not at all what I’d been expecting. I guess I thought he had some problem with me and I had steeled myself to deal with hearing that. So when it was something else it…it threw me a bit.”
Bree puts her wineglass down and reaches over to touch Lynette’s face.
“Do you really think that?”
“Sure. It was a shock. It came out of left field and blind-sided you. OK, it may not have been the best reaction…but I’m sure it was preferable to a lot of other parental reactions when confronted with the same scenario.”
Bree smiles and continues to trace Lynette’s features with an elegant finger.
Bree falters and Lynette moves in to take her in her arms, bodies fitting together comfortably. Lynette’s hand runs up and down Bree’s back.
“I think it just reminded me too much of being a teenager and having those feelings and being terrified of them. Feeling scared and ashamed and dirty. I don’t want this life for him.”
Bree’s words are whispered and fast, as if someone were listening at the door. Lynette pulls away and gets out of bed. She starts getting dressed. Bree watches her.
“Tom and the kids’ll be back soon.”
Lynette doesn’t look at her as she speaks. Bree pushes the covers back and stands, feeling slightly unsteady on her feet. She dresses while Lynette goes into the bathroom, closing the door loudly behind her. Bree makes the bed as she waits.
Lynette re-emerges. Bree looks up and sees that Lynette’s eyes are red. She moves towards her. Lynette holds up her hand.
“Don’t. Just…just don’t.”
”No, Bree, don’t say anything. You’ve already provided my daily dose of shame so you should probably just go.”
Bree is taken aback. She stands and watches Lynette pick up dirty laundry.
“Lynette I wasn’t talking about you.”
Lynette stops and faces Bree, her expression cynical.
”Right, you don’t want ‘this life’ for your son. The parts of your life that you’re so ashamed of, that make you feel so dirty. And none of that was about me? The hell it's not. Go home.”
Bree crosses her arms, mouth firm and eyes hard. She will not be moved.
“I wasn’t talking about you or about us. I was talking about how I feel and how I felt when I was young. Surely you can understand those kinds of feelings, surely you must have gone through…”
“No I didn’t go through anything like that. I’ve never examined myself that way. I had fun when I was younger, I went to college and worked hard then got a job and worked harder. I never gave much thought to how I should feel or how I should act. I’ve fallen in love twice in my life…once with Tom and once with…”
The sentence hangs, unfinished. Tears sting at Bree’s eyes. She wants to respond. She wants to touch. She wants to feel. Lynette shakes her head and turns away again.
“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”
Something inside Bree tightens at this thought.
”Don’t say that.”
Lynette’s eyes meet hers.
“Why not? I’ve never understood why you come here, why you put yourself through this when it so obviously cuts you up. Why do you do this to yourself, Bree? You could stay home and live your perfect little suburban life with your husband. So why’d’you come over here.”
“Because I have to.”
Tears are running from Bree’s eyes and she is shaking from the sheer emotion of her whispered words.
“I would give anything to be happy and contented with my life, to be good and love my husband. But instead I am an adulteress and a liar and I’m going to hell. If I could stop then I would but I can’t because even the thought of not being with you breaks my heart. You make me happy. You make me contented. When I’m with you I don’t care about anything else or what anyone else thinks. But for my whole life I was told that this was wrong and I believed it. So it’s very difficult for me to reconcile these two opposing opinions. If I occasionally make you feel like I am ashamed to be with you then let me apologise unreservedly, here and now. I could never be ashamed of you. You brighten up my world when you smile at me. You melt this icicle I’ve turned myself into when you touch me. I love you. I am in love with you.”
Bree’s breathing is hard and laboured as she struggles to regain her composure. Lynette slowly moves towards her. She can see Bree’s whole body shaking almost violently.
“I love you too.”
Bree breaks down as Lynette’s arms go around her. They cling to each other, kissing and whispering apologies and declarations of love until their tears subside. The sound of the front door opening followed by children shouting finally separates them. Tom calls out.
“Honey? We’re home.”
Lynette looks at Bree. Her mascara is running and her lipstick is smudged.
“We’re upstairs…experimenting with make-up.”
Bree half-laughs, half hiccups.
“Be down in a sec.”
Lynette stands and pulls Bree up. They head to the bathroom and fix their make-up. Bree looks at herself in the mirror and smoothes down her sweater. Lynette stands behind her and covers her hand with her own.
“I love you in green.”
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