Swan Song

And with that statement, Brooke winked at me, and walked out of my suite. I decided to shave again... Who knows? Maybe Laurel would indeed turn out to be the one...

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Laurel was indeed a lovely woman. She was a classic case of the whole being greater than the sum of her parts. We met ten minutes before the start of the banquet. She had curly shoulder length brown hair, green eyes, and a slim build. Her smile was warm and confident. She spoke with an intelligence that made me worry about saying something stupid. This date, I realized, would be more than just admiring how attractive she looked.

I thanked her for taking care of so many issues relating to the banquet weekend. She thanked me for the cash. There was a directness about her that I found attractive. I was looking forward to getting to know her after the ceremony.

At 8:10pm for the last time I tapped my spoon on my water glass and brought the room to attention...

"My friends, tonight is a night of recognition. But first, I'd like to truly thank all of you for coming... This whole experience has far exceeded my wildest expectations. I've made some great friends and I hope all of you have as well. I will never forget some of you as long as I live....and I mean that in the best way!"

"And now I'd like to introduce the lovely Laurel, owner and editor of the Literotica website to announce the twenty four remaining commentators. When your name is called if you would please stand up and be recognized..."

One by one Laurel called out the names, and almost surprising to me was the constant applause. It was a respectful night and I was proud to be a part of it. When Pete's name was called I looked squarely in the direction of Laurel. I noticed she had nice legs. I hadn't picked up on that before...

For the major awards, and the cash prizes that when with them, Laurel chose my friend Betrayed as the most prolific commentator based solely upon volume from the previous year. Lickideesplit was chosen "most open minded" commentator, and HarryinVA was given the lifetime achievement award. But there were no losers as all recognized commentators got Visa gift cards, and that made for a lot of happy wives... The vibe in the room was real good.

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With the announcements made, the waiters starting serving dinner, and Laurel and I snuck out the back and into a limo. I was pleasantly surprised to learn she liked Thai food and she gave the driver directions to her favorite restaurant. In the limo, I kept reminding myself about manners, opening doors, holding chairs, not swearing. I really wanted to make a good impression.

Laurel was a great conversationalist as we covered a lot distance in a short amount of time, keeping our common connection of Literotica in mind. Basically, she and Mark (Manu) met at Columbia University. She was a sophomore English major who was bored with Chaucer and Tennyson and he was a senior computer whiz. They fell in love, and one night in bed came up with the idea to have a website with literature that people actually wanted to read.

"Being young and discovering my sexually, this website just seemed like such a natural fit."

Mark handled the technical aspects and she read all the stories. They had a business going before they even graduated college. But it didn't pay all the bills because they would not compromise on advertising. Eventually she took a job as a full time editor with a major publisher.

She and Mark were a couple for six years before they "drifted apart." And now, in her early thirties, she felt her life slipping away.

I quickly ran through my history, growing up in rural Pennsylvania, college in Pittsburgh, working for the government, and winning the lottery. I tried to explain my shyness but it came off sounding pathetic. Actually, it is pathetic. But I am what I am and I'm working on it...

I explained that Brooke and Carol were friends who were trying to help me feel more comfortable around women, and that they were trying to accelerate my learning curve. Laurel suggested that perhaps by next weekend I would be the Don Juan of Pennsylvania. She had a great sense of humor.

The fun really started when Laurel started telling funny stories associated with readers and writers to the website. Suffice to say there are a lot of really weird people out there. The things you think could not be true sometimes actually are. I was feeling better about myself and more normal by the minute.

When the limo dropped Laurel off at her apartment I gave her a hug, but it was obvious there was simply no connection for either one of us. We would remain friends. She asked about having a banquet next year and I remained noncommittal. When she asked me if I would write a story about this weekend I replied, "Perhaps, it won't be as good as something by HDK, but I'll try to write in complete sentences."

She gave me a puzzled look searching her memory bank, and as I stepped into the limo I said, "Thank you for giving me a chance, Laurel... It really was my pleasure."

Returning to the Waldorf I quickly made my way through the lobby praying not to see Brooke and Pete together. Fate was kind this evening. Twenty minutes later in the penthouse, standing in my underwear and starting out at the New York City lights, I was overcome with a sense of loneliness.

I wanted to call Brooke. I punched the number on my cell for Tina/Catherine before hanging up. I got dressed for a trip to Girard's office but then took off my clothes. Hell, I even thought about finding that commentator who wanted me to have his wife.

Ultimately, I laid in the bed and wondered about my pathetic nature. I should be having the time of my life! I was rich, decent looking, in good shape, and my equipment worked. "God help me," I asked and whispered a silent prayer. Then I simply stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep.

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I woke up at 5:37am with sweat pouring off my body, and my arms and legs were numb. I had a bad dream. Brooke was a Scandinavian princess dressed in her purple gown and I was one of two suitors. She chose the other and I was set adrift on a Viking ship and they stood on the shore line and laughed at me. Fuck! I hate dreams...

Rolling out of bed, I walked to the windows to watch the sun rise. "Get a hold of yourself, Jerry!" my mind chastised. "You're not in high school and Brooke isn't the prom queen...grow up!"

I gave myself a pep talk. I was a good guy. Lots of fish in the sea, that kind of bullshit... But physically my chest felt tight and my heart had a dull ache. I couldn't dismiss what I felt...it had to be Brooke. It simply had to be Brooke.

By 7am I was showered, dressed, and down in the coffee shop looking for caffeine. Doesn't anybody drink black coffee anymore? Frappes and lattes? Despite my pathetic nature, at least I take my coffee straight up. Hey, I had that going for me...

To my surprise HDK and Carol were already in a booth reading the Sunday paper. It seems they were early risers, too. Carol was excited to hear about my date, you could tell by her facial expression, but was trying to play it low key...

"Good morning!"

"Good morning......so Carol, how are you feeling this morning?"

"Better than yesterday," she laughed.

"Didn't take my shopping advice, did you?"

"No, I couldn't find any stores that sold whips," she joked.

"Too bad for you!" I responded.

HDK remained buried in the financial section, refusing to take the bait his wife cast.

"So how was your date?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Nice...but no match."

"Oh..."

"She's a really nice woman. I like her, but there just wasn't any spark. For either one of us..."

"Well, no shame in that, Jerry. This is actually good. You got through this experience and will be more comfortable on the next one."

"Are you a guidance counselor or therapist, Carol?"

"No, silly. I'm a wife..."

HDK looked over the top of his newspaper at us and shook his head... I couldn't help but think a man of his intelligence and wisdom must be terribly amused at my whole situation.

"I wonder if Brooke will be down here early this morning. I didn't see or talk to her last night..."

Carol looked away, "Well...I'm guessing that she'll be getting up rather late this morning."

I'm not an idiot. I got her meaning. My chest suddenly tightened. I must have made a sour face.

"Carol, HDK... I think I'm going up to my room to pack. The limo leaves at 11am."

"Jerry..."

"What Carol?"

"Look at me! You have to turn this into a positive. You can't let this eat you up inside."

"That's easier said than done, Carol. Tell me how..."

"Focus on the positives..."

"OK...but the problem with your theory is that the one big negative, that I will never be with Brooke Jones, is greater than all the positives that have happened this weekend."

"But your life doesn't end today. In the long run you'll come to understand that I'm right."

"Are you sure that my life doesn't end here today? Do we ever really know? 'Live for today because tomorrow never comes' ever hear that phrase, Carol?"

"Don't be so melodramatic. And besides, there is one thing you keep ignoring. Brooke Jones is a fine woman, but you have this idea in your mind that she's perfect. Not by a long shot! By her own admission, she was almost a cheating wife. She was THAT close. You almost got her! Is that the kind of woman you want? Think about it!"

"Right now, she has to live with that guilt and that's why she's so invested in seeing you find happiness. She thinks by confessing to Pete and finding you a wife, that it will cleanse her conscious, and that it will right a wrong. I'm not so sure about that..."

"I've been cutting you some slack because of your lack of experience, first love and all that, usually most people go through this as teenagers, but no matter who you eventually end up with, you better learn to deal with the fact that your wife will be flawed and imperfect and do stupid things. Jesus, we're all human and Brooke doesn't walk on water!"

"I know you don't want to hear this, Jerry, but there are tons of other women out there greater than Brooke Jones, and I mean TONS! When you finally open your eyes perhaps you'll see that."

"OK, Carol... I get it..." I said looking downward. "Please put away your brick and switch to decaf."

"I'm not joking about this..."

"Carol, intellectually I get it. I really do. I'm not stupid even if I'm acting like I am. But these emotions are very strong and it's hard to control what I feel in my heart."

"Forty nine going on sixteen...Grow up!" Carol challenged me.

"Anybody interested in my opinion?" HDK said from behind his newspaper.

Carol and I just stared at each other looking stunned.

"Sure..." I stammered.

"I think you should call that Tina girl, dress her in Brooke's clothes, and bang the shit out of her! And I mean every hole... Get it out of your system, boy! She gave you a rain check, didn't she?"

"Yes...but I'm not sure if I could do that..." I replied.

"Well then, could you give her number to me?" HDK winked.

"Asshole!" Carol stated.

HDK made me laugh and I will be forever grateful.

We agreed to meet by 10:45am and I went back up to the penthouse to pack. Staring into the rising sun I asked myself if I was better off on Friday morning or now. On Friday I was lonely and sad. A zero life. Now I was lonely and sad, but worse, I had tasted the emotions of unrequited love and I was absolutely miserable...

This is how pathetic I was...my life was even more fucked up now than it was before...

There is an old axiom that states that "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Perhaps this statement didn't exactly apply to my situation, but it was close enough for me to say that it is total bullshit.

Trying to find something to pass the time and take my mind off of the current situation, I decided to go back down to the lobby and say "Goodbye" to my new Literotica friends. Perhaps I would never see them again...

-------------------------------------------

Mulling around the lobby at 9:45am, Girard the concierge approached me with a big smile and a handshake. I reached into my wallet to pull out a tip for the man; he had provided great service and tickets to all the Literotica guests.

"Strapper...huh...Jerry...I'd like to sincerely thank you!"

"For what, Girard? It's me that should be thanking you..."

"No, no... I was able to provide some...huh...assistance to that couple who were interested in the 'ballet' yesterday...the ones you sent my way..."

"Really?" I questioned, surprised that my facetious suggestion produced results.

"The most unbelievable experience of my life!" Girard stated. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, "The guy ended up wearing pink tights and a tutu...and his wife was the biggest slut! God, what a night!"

"Well... I'm glad it all worked out for you." I managed to say, pulling back from him.

"I really hope your group is coming back here next year. Will this be an annual thing?"

"I really don't know. We'll see..."

"Well, in any case, thank you and anytime you need tickets for anything in the area, just call me."

I stood there shaking my head. I guess when fantasies mesh it can be a wonderful thing.

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Brooke stepped out of the elevator looking more stunning than ever, arm in arm with her husband. A black pants suit and perfect hair... Her face had that warm contented afterglow; it was painfully obvious that she had a passionate night with Pete. They leaned into one another with such ease. They had obviously reconnected. My rational mind said that it shouldn't, but it hurt me badly inside.

When they walked over to talk to me with big smiles on their faces, I wanted to crawl in a hole. My chest suddenly ached.

"Jerry! So, how was your date?" she asked, a hopeful expression on her face.

"Get any last night?" Pete followed up.

"It was...huh...nice...huh..." I managed to stammer before my heart felt like it was going to literally explode. "Would you excuse me please?"

I managed to stagger to a sofa at the side of the lobby, clutching my chest. I doubled over and a feeling of nausea overcame me as I looked for a trash can.

Pete actually rushed over, "Hey man, are you OK? Do you want me to get an ambulance?"

"I don't know...I can't seem to catch my breath..." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Brooke just standing there frozen with a look of horror on her face.

I tried to breathe deep but the pain was crushing, "Water...get me some water..."

I looked up again and Brooke was gone, almost like a ghost appearing and then disappearing.

Pete handed me a bottle of water and I slowly sipped it, as he tried to convince me to get medical attention.

"What fucking difference does it make?" I managed to spit out between breaths. "If I die here right now it would be a blessing...save me from a lifetime of pain."

"You don't mean that, man." Pete retorted, surprised at my outburst, "You've got a helluva lot to live for..."

"Easy for you to say..." I muttered. He simply didn't understand...

I looked up again and there stood Brooke. She was a thousand years old, the beauty faded, all skin and bones, blond hair in clumps on the floor. I blinked and again she was gone.

"Fuck this...I'm calling an ambulance!"

"No! I'm OK...Just let me fucking die!"

Pete was a man of action. The EMT's appeared in the lobby about five minutes later but I refused oxygen. They hooked me up to a portable electrocardiogram machine, but again I refused any nitroglycerine and I refused to get on the gurney. They found it difficult to treat a patient who would not cooperate. It was not rational to refuse help but I didn't give a shit. Eventually, as I calmed down my vital signs returned to normal and I was able to convince them to leave. They urged me to see a doctor immediately when I returned home.

The crowd that had gathered dispersed, with lots of well meaning people wishing me the best. Eventually I managed to make my way into the small banquet room where a continental breakfast was set up. I found a table in the corner and tried to disappear.

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"Well, that was pretty stupid!"

I looked up. HDK, Carol, Betrayed, and Barbara were standing over me, serious expressions on their faces.

Carol spoke up, "You need to get your head out of your ass and wise up, Mister."

I tried to smile, "The limo will be here in ten minutes, I didn't want to make you wait..."

"Yeah right... You know, Jerry, I thought you were a lot smarter than that..." Carol continued.

"What do you mean?"

"If you truly love someone you never want to hurt them. You accept your pain to take away their pain. That's what love is..."

"I don't understand..."

"You fool! You crushed, Brooke! She was curled up on the floor in the ladies room balling her eyes out. She's a total wreck! She thinks you want to kill yourself for her!"

"I don't know if I want to live..."

"Bullshit! Think about this very carefully, Jerry. If you die, she'll have a lifetime of guilt. She'll never have another happy day in her life...is that what you want?"

"Of course not..."

"She has feelings for you and she wants you to be happy...it's just that you can't be together...that's the sad reality...but she desperately wants you to find happiness like she has with Pete..."

"But..."

"Jerry, let me spell it out for you. You have to be a man and let her go...for both of you. I know it's a cliché, but if you truly love her... you have to set her free."

I put my head in my hands and thought about Carol's words.

"Will she see me?"

"Yes, I believe so..."

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She was very tentative as she walked towards me, her regal stride gone. Her face was bright red, any makeup long since washed away. As she approached closer, I immediately noticed her eyes were bloodshot. She seemed a little older, a little thinner, a little shorter, and a little more vulnerable.

As she came closer, I instinctively folded my arms across my chest as a defense mechanism, and it suddenly saddened me that my body associated her with pain. I motioned for her to come outside. Pete and Witless were talking in the lobby as Brooke and I walked out of the Waldorf to where the limousine was waiting...

We stood facing each other on noisy street of midtown Manhattan. The distance between us was an arm's length and a lifetime. I gazed for one last time into her pale blue eyes for as long as I dared, finally taking out a piece of paper out of my pocket and holding it out for her to take.

"My number, Brooke. If you need something, if I can help you with anything, don't hesitate to call... But please don't torment me; I don't know how much more I could take."

Brooke slowly nodded and took the paper from my hand, then placed it in her purse, before returning to look at me, a tear forming in the corner of her eye.

"And Brooke, if for some reason you and Pete are no longer together..."

I offered my hand and she placed hers in mine. I brought her delicate thin hand to my face, bowed my head ever so slightly and kissed the back of her fingers.

"I love you, Brooke...Goodbye..."

And with that I turned and strode quickly to the waiting limo, jumped inside, and cried like a baby. I mean I fucking wailed... I should have been embarrassed, but it hurt so badly. I let it all come out. Between the sobs and the tears gushing down my face, I noticed through the window that Brooke was still standing like a statue on the sidewalk.

Carol stepped out of the limo and wrapped her arms around Brooke and they stood there holding each other before ever so slightly parting. Their conversation must have lasted a while, as they each spoke and kept nodding to the other. By the time Carol returned to the limo, my tears were flowing slower. She glanced over to her husband, before reaching over to touch my knee.