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"Yeah, but five thousand?"
"Look starting out in life is tough. We are doing great really; take the money, Paul," John said.
"Well, thanks again. I'll try to make it count."
When the women returned we all piled back in the VW van and drove to Joy's house. They were invited in, but needed to get back, so we hugged, said our good-byes and made promises to visit more. Joy and I walked to the door. She'd left the porch light on and she opened it without issue. Inside the hall light was already on too.
When the door was closed, she turned to me and said, "I haven't made up the bed in the guest room, I hope you don't mind sleeping with me tonight."
"Joy, I can't tell you how glad I am you came today," I said grabbing her tightly.
"You made some convincing arguments and I know that you are wise beyond your years."
"No one has ever accused me of that," I replied.
"You made me so happy yesterday, I'd be an old fool not to see where this adventure may go."
"Jeez Joy, you aren't old."
"And you aren't a child. I regret those words so very much. I imagine hearing them is as bad as hearing old is for me."
"It seems that you are as empathetic as I am."
"We have much to discover about one another, but I am already softening to you," she said as she engaged me in a deep kiss.
Somehow, we wound up in her bed again eagerly performing the sixty-nine, well she called it soixante-neuf, but it was invigorating nonetheless. She'd trimmed or perhaps use hair remover on the area around her lips and she was completely smooth. The soft hairs on her mons tickled my chin as I lapped at her. We were sucking and tonguing each other furiously when I found myself staring into her bum. An odd thought came to mind and I didn't act on it right then, but I wondered what it'd be like if I licked her there. My nose was already pressing against it occasionally as my tongue dove deep inside her.
"Oh, I must have you inside me again, Paul," she said after I made her cum hard on my tongue.
"Okay, which way?"
"What is your favorite? It'll be my graduation gift to you."
"Hum, I like so many of the ways we did it yesterday. What way makes you orgasm the hardest?"
"With you, I orgasm from your entry."
"No, really, tell me. I like pleasing you."
"I like it when I'm on top and you suckle my breasts. It's so cute, like a baby. Sorry, it just -"
"No, that's okay, I like that too and I'll try to be cute while I nurse on you, if you like."
"You're silly; I've loved everything we've done and I'm open to more experiences."
Sex that evening was soft and sweet as she rode me lovingly with me attached to her teat like a baby. There was a gentle giving quality behind her strong sexual drive, which made me feel safe and loved. Her openness gave me comfort too, I didn't want to hide my desires from her but I also didn't want to scare her away by throwing them all at her at once.
The next day I moved all my stuff from the dorm into her spare room. I had to be to work on Monday to begin my job for real. It was all happening so fast that I felt a little out of control. She insisted I stay in her room for one more night before switching into the guest room. It wasn't rejection, she simply wanted to make sure that it wasn't just sex that made us work.
When my real employment began, it was very different than I'd expected. My internship had prepared me some, but the pace was much more hectic and everything that came across my desk was top priority. After a week of this, I'd considered quitting but Joy consoled me and told me how it'd been for her when she began at the university. She assured me that I would fall into a rhythm and I could stay in her guest room as long as I liked though, she was off over the summer and she made me feel at home.
After the first month of our relationship, I'd made the assessment that we were perfect for each other. We liked so many of the same things, she supported me continuing with my art and she relaxed me when my job created stress. The biggest stress now was that they wanted me to start covering accounts that required travel to the client's offices. One of our biggest clients was headquartered in Boston and they were facing an audit. I'd have a senior accounting specialist with me on my first few trips, but they wanted to promote her into a managerial position since she had gone back for a master's degree.
The trips would test our relationship. There was tension over the fact that my coworker was female. Joy had become very protective of me probably due to the experience with her husband. But too, she was still having difficulty getting over the age difference. It worried her so, that it caused a small argument or maybe more of a lover's spat over the phone. She was at home alone while I was off 'gallivanting around' Boston. I flew home that weekend to try and put the matter to rest once and for all. It was a brief bump in the road to my point of view, but she was slow to see my devotion to her.
At some point I decided she needed to see herself through my eyes and the only way I could have that happen was to let her see some of my other drawings of her. It was time to start sharing my most personal thoughts and feelings laid bare on paper. I started the conversation by getting her to think back to when she first knew she had feelings for me.
"Hey, tell me something."
"Anything."
"When did you realize you felt something for me?"
"I'm ashamed to admit it."
"Well, I'll tell you that I realized it the day I drew you in humanities class last spring. I know you have the drawing, it wasn't very good, but it was how I saw you that day, bathed in white sunlight. After the event, I'd thought maybe it was what you'd said that day Spring Fever and I tried to forget about it. I thought maybe it was a crush, but I kept having those feelings for the remainder of the semester. I had to go home and put distance between us to get away from them. I knew you were so unattainable and out of my league."
"The last part is pure nonsense, you're a fine gentle man. Any woman would be lucky to meet someone so caring and thoughtful. You need to stop doubting your drawing ability, you know that I absolutely adore your drawing of me. It captured me in a way that made me beautiful to myself."
"So, the same day?"
"No, that day wasn't when it happened for me; many young men fall for their female professors. I loved the picture, but I was trying to maintain a proper distance even as my marriage was falling apart."
"But you did follow me onto the quad and you accepted the sketch."
"Yes, that was a naughty flirtation," she admitted. "I wasn't feeling very beautiful, because I'd so recently discovered that Roger was cheating on me. I really liked the feeling that a nice young artist found me attractive."
"But it wasn't the sketch?"
"Non, what made me think I was truly feeling something was the day you helped me home. My divorce was coming to completion and I was feeling old and unattractive. I saw how you still looked at me, but I just couldn't bring myself to ask if you were interested in this fragile old lady."
"I've never seen you as old or fragile, but I did notice your sensitivity to my careless words. Then I'd expected to see you at the chancellor's party, but you showed up relatively late. I almost didn't think you were going to come. Were you still conflicted?"
"I wasn't sure if I should attend, because I'd seen the invitation list and I was fairly certain you'd be there. I debated going until I made myself late. I simply didn't know if I'd have the restraint to resist you that evening. And then you were there like a lost puppy without a date. I'd wanted to take you home with me before I had a single drink. Clearly, I had no will power, but then you were such a gentleman. You didn't take advantage of an old drunken divorcée."
"Now, it is you that needs to stop deprecating yourself. What I saw was a beautiful woman that was reaching out to me in a moment of weakness. I couldn't have taken advantage of something so pure."
"Paul, I had impure thoughts even that day you offered me the sketch. You can't keep holding me on a pedestal."
"Well, I don't think I am. Wait here a moment, I want to show you something," I said getting up from the bed.
I went to the guest room and dug through my belongings. When I found my previous sketchpad, I headed back into the bedroom while I flipped through the pages to find the sketch.
"I drew this from memory."
She drew in a deep breath, "Oh God, this one puts the other to shame." Tears welled in her eyes, "What have I done? You are so young and pure of heart. I can't do this to you."
"Even though I knew I could never be with you when I drew it, I loved you from afar, Joy."
She stared at the drawing and continued to shake her head. Something inside her was preventing her from seeing the adoration behind the sketch. To me, the proof of my love was visible within the soft lines and gentle curves of every detail of this sketch.
"Joy, I want to scream, I love you from rooftops or mounted on horseback as I ride through each town. I want - NO, I need to be with you, for now and forever. Please don't let our age sway your judgment."
"Why me, Paul?"
"Believe me Joy, I don't think we get to decide who we fall in love with. I love you and want you to marry me," I said taking a knee to offer her the ring.
She took the open box and stared at the small diamond. Her gaze seemed distant for a long time, I could see the inner turmoil as she tried to make the leap. There was resoluteness when she finally answered.
"Yes, I will marry you," she said at last. "C'est totalement fou, mai je croi que tu m'aim."
"It's not crazy and I do love you, without condition."
After she put the ring upon her finger, we couldn't wait to have one another. The love we both knew was real couldn't be kept apart by simple numbers on a calendar. It wasn't merely the kind of love that blinded us to the reality of life, it was the kind that changed the fabric upon which we would draw.
Around the beginning of July, I was going to take a final trip out for the Boston job and I decided it was time to take Joy with me. Her being at home alone over the summer had been part of the problem, but our decision to marry in December meant I needed to break the news to my family.
She and I stayed with her mom while I finished up the business audit preparations. Her mom was frail and a little senile. Her English was heavily accented and she often spoke to Joy in French. I overheard her say she wasn't thrilled with the age difference, but she was accepting of me and was happy for Joy. She didn't think she would be able to make it to our wedding, but she wished us well.
When the weekend came, we rented a car and drove to the farm to introduce Joy and tell them of our plans to marry. We'd thought this would be the perfect time as it would be the dead of winter and they would have no trouble attending. Joy had insisted that we'd pay the airfare for anyone that wanted to come. Unknowingly, I'd committed a huge error in thinking they would approve. Although they were pleasant to her and myself during our brief day visit, Pops informed me as I was leaving that they would not be coming to the wedding.
As we were about to pull away to head to Burlington to fly back, Emma dashed out to the car to talk to me, "I'm going to be there for you, Paul."
"Thanks, Emma. I don't really understand what the problem is."
"I overheard them fussing in their room after lunch. They think it's disgraceful you're marrying someone Mama's age."
"She's not, Mama is nearly sixty."
"I know," she said and looked over at Joy. "Please forgive them, they may yet come around. I know you're just a little older than me."
"You are a dear and I see where Paul gets his laudatory nature. I've no shame of my age, I'll be fifty in November. Honestly, I hold no grudge against them, it took a long time for Paul to convince me that I was the one for him," Joy replied.
"The only thing I care about is that you take good care of my sweet baby - brother Paul," she said with tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I assure you he means the world to me."
I felt it too, it was inexplicable, but Joy's tears began to flow and mine as well. Emma was giving me her blessing, love and support. What we'd had that summer had led to this and she was happy and sad in the same instant.
Her voice full of that melancholy, Emma replied, "Me too. I promise you both that I will be there. Maybe I can change their minds, but they can be very stubborn."
We hugged through the window and she waved us good-bye. We drove from the farm to Burlington and got on our late flight home. We made preparations and arrangements over the months that passed. We would marry in a small chapel near campus. There would be a very small group of people, most of them my family.
In December after the holiday break started, Emma flew up to stay with us in the guest room. She arrived with bad news in the form of a letter from Mama. Handing me the small card, she said, "Don't think she undertook this lightly."
Mama's Note: Dear Paul, I wish I had better news. Emma convinced me I need to write you and explain why we won't be at the wedding. Papa is a stubborn old fool sometimes. I know that you love her, she's a very beautiful, if older, woman. Papa wants you to call it off or he's threatening to disown you. I can't talk him down from this and can't leave him after all these years. Please know that I love you regardless of what you choose to do.
It was a stunning blow but Emma helped soothe some of the pain. She was a huge help with all of the final arrangements and she and Joy got to be more acquainted. She hadn't written or sent any care packages after our trip to visit, and I wasn't sure if she was as okay with all this as she said she was. There still didn't seem to be a man in her life and I wished she could have a love like the one I had or maybe still harbored.
When the big day came, it was nice but cold weather. The ceremony was a simple affair in the presence of a justice of the peace. We had Emma, John & Anh, Paul & Cam and two friends of Joy as our witnesses. The justice must have been a French student at some point, because during the ceremony, he'd pronounced her name correctly each time. It was something I should have known, but didn't until I heard the words.
"Paul James Rocinante, do you take this woman, Joie Shueller Soliel, to be your lawful wedded wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
"I do."
"And do you, Joie Shueller Soliel, take this man, Paul James Rocinante, to be your lawful wedded husband to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
"I do."
"You may kiss the bride."
I did kiss her and from that day forward, I called her Joie, her true name. I felt like Joy was for people that didn't know her and probably couldn't appreciate how beautiful that name was to me. Her joie de vivre, literally 'joy of life', was contagious. Everywhere we went, everything we did, people mentioned it, in some fashion, within just a few minutes of talking to her.
For our honeymoon, we traveled the short fifty miles to a nearby ski lodge at the Snoqualmie Pass. It was near the Lodge Lake trailhead I'd visited on several school breaks to hike and draw. When I'd shown Joie some of the drawings, I'd discovered that she knew about the place and loved it too. I promised her that for our fifth anniversary, we'd go to Greece and she informed me very emphatically that we could do that, but we'd go there this summer too.
Sometime in April, I notice that Joie's hair was looking different. The curls were all but gone and it looked much more youthful and vigorous. I wondered if she knew what that was doing to me, and one evening as we cuddled after sex I decided to get to the bottom of the mystery.
"Have you been doing something different with your hair," I asked stroking through it with my fingers.
"I'm on a new regiment and I'm not curling it anymore."
"Is there a reason for the change?"
"You've shown me your drawings. I've seen how you adored her, Paul. I once had an attraction to my brother."
This one secret I'd thought I'd kept. I shouldn't have, but it was a little embarrassing still. Rather than play dumb and pretend I didn't know what she was talking about, I decided to see how much she knew, but I went about it by trying to get some information about their relationship first.
"How far did it -" I started to ask.
She smiled at me and countered, "Come on and play fair. You tell me your story and I'll tell you mine."
"Okay, I will, but first tell me if your ex-husband knew?"
"No, I never told him. Its shameful outcome may be the source of my infertility."
We spent the rest of the day telling parts of our past to one another. It was cathartic in a lot of ways and it helped me move on from feelings I may have still harbored for Emma. Joie had been involved with her brother for a longer time, but it'd ended when he got married and she claimed she hadn't loved him as strongly as I had Emma. I wasn't sure how she could know that, but I loved her for sharing that with me. We were two people that were meant to be together, it was simple fate.
A few months later, I received a big promotion at work. It was a good move, but I wasn't enjoying the work like I thought I would. The time demands were even higher for the new position and required more travel. Joie could see how unhappy I was and suggested I look into pursuing my art more or perhaps venture out into something that allowed me to devote some time to it. Unfortunately, we had to cancel our trip to Greece, but I promised Joie, I'd make it up to her.
The straw that broke the horse's back was a holiday office party to which our spouses were invited. It wasn't the party, it was the ribbing and outright discrimination that I received afterward. Joie, had worn a lovely dancing gown and braided her hair up into a bun. I had loved the distinguished but sexy look it gave her. She was charming and intelligent in every interaction at the party and she'd gotten lots of admiring glances. The lovemaking that followed the party was unbelievable. She was like a woman in heat beneath me and she'd clawed my back a bit during our passion.
The next day in the office, I'd had a small mark on my neck that my manager noticed. His wise crack had put me off entirely and he'd made it in front of a couple of co-workers. I can't remember the exact wording because I got so angry I couldn't see straight, but it was something to the effect of 'The old gal got the better of you, huh?' From that point forward, there was constant gossiping about my summer-winter relationship with that 'old French whore'.
Within a month, I'd taken all the steps to follow a new path. My art would no longer suffer and I would be the master of my own destiny. It'd all been possible because of help from Joie, the money I'd saved and the five thousand from my brothers. I opened a small art gallery, where I would deal art and I could display some of my own work.
It was a huge change in my life and while it was exciting in one regard, there was a lot of stress that came with the change. I slept little and worried often as I paced the neighborhood along the bay. After about two weeks without a sale or even a serious customer, I began to become depressed and doubt the venture would have any success. My art had moved into the soft pastels and I'd begun drawing some dark scenes that weren't the things I wanted.
