Together—You and Me

"Dean, if I were forty years younger I'd be all over you like a bill collector working a bad loan!" Molly said as she pulled the pad of paper out of her apron. "Let me bring you two something to drink. Your usual, Dean?"

"Yup, sure thing. Pardon me, though, I need to wash my hands," Dean said.

Molly's demeanor changed as soon as Dean walked away. She sat down on the opposite side of the booth from Amy. The tone of Molly's voice lowered as the expression on her face turned serious.

"Amy, Dean told me you came to his aid several weeks ago. Said he had a bad time that night," Molly said.

"Molly, I didn't know what to do. I was scared to death. I just held him in my arms and sang an old lullaby I knew and that seemed to calm him."

"Honey, when Dean came back after his last tour of duty in Afghanistan, he was racked with problems. He's dealing with them as best he can. You're the first person he's opened up to about them.

"He lost his parents just before he graduated from high school. Harold and I have been his guardians ever since. His dad was in the military and would bring Dean in here with him. Amy, this place is full of veterans from all the wars. I serve hot, feel-good food here. But sometimes my boys don't come in for my cooking; they just need someone to talk to.

"If you love him, please give him a chance. His first wife, Sandy, didn't. She left him when he was at low point in his life for another man."

"I do love him, Molly. I can't tell you just how much I do."

"Amy, I know you do," Molly said. "That's why he hasn't asked you to move in. He's afraid you won't be able to deal with his problems, like Sandy. He told me so." Molly paused, then changed the subject. "By the way, his regular drink here is root beer, and you're getting the same."

"Is he an alcoholic?" Amy asked.

"No!" Molly shook her head. "He won't touch a drop of the stuff. Won't say why."

Amy reached out and touched Molly's hand. A hand wrinkled and deformed from decades of hard work, yet a hand filled with compassion and love.

"Root beer sounds wonderful," Amy said.

Molly squeezed Amy's hand and said, "Dean's an incredibly handsome, good-hearted young man. He could have had almost any woman of his choosing. I'm so very glad he chose you."

Just as Molly got up Dean came back to the booth. "Did you order yet?" Dean asked.

"No, not yet. I figured I'd wait for you," Amy said as she scanned the menu.

Molly came back over with their drinks. "Here you to go!" She sat down in the booth along with Amy and Dean.

Amy picked up her glass and took a big swig of the cold drink. When she put the glass down she had a foam mustache on her top lip. She giggled and then licked the foam from her lip with her tongue. When she looked up at the ceiling, she let out a gasp and covered her mouth.

"Are those what I think they are? Bras?" Amy asked.

"Sure are, Amy," Molly replied.

Amy turned her head around sending her long tresses flying across her round face. All over the ceiling, in every conceivable location, hung a bra. There were big ones, fancy ones, small ones; bras of all colors, shapes, and sizes.

Just then Harold came over and said, "Move your old bones over, woman."

"You two are married?" Amy asked.

Harold smiled and said, "Can't you tell?"

"Why are all those bras hanging from your ceiling?" Amy asked as she looked up again. "There must be hundreds of them!"

"Actually, Amy, there's thousands upon thousands hanging up there. We tried to keep track, but we gave up sometime in the late seventies," Molly said.

Amy looked around again and asked, "Why are they up there Molly?"

"When Harold and I were building this place, I promised him I'd be here as long as he wanted me and to prove it I whipped off my bra in a moment of craziness, and I nailed that sucker to the rafter," Molly said.

Harold picked up the story. "Boy, back in our time, Molly was what they called 'stop and stare' gorgeous. You know, Molly, I still wonder how that carpenter made out after he smashed his fingers with his hammer when he saw you toss your duds."

Harold leaned into Molly and the two kissed. "She's still damn good looking to me," Harold said, "and that's what counts!"

"Is it still hanging up?" Amy asked.

"You better believe it is! It's right there above the cash register, the same spot it's been hanging from since 1954!" Molly said with pride in her voice.

"Amy, the idea is simple. Take the two of you. The entire bar is a witness as you both make a promise to each other. When you're done exchanging your promises, you both tie a ribbon to the end of her bra and then both of you pin it into the ceiling."

"Once it's pin into the ceiling, it's there forever. Unless either one of you comes in and takes it down, then the promise is broken."

Dean reached out and touched Amy's hand. "Amy, Molly didn't mention all the details."

Molly continued, "It's been a tradition here for decades that the man must remove the woman's bra out in the open as everyone in the bar watches. Like the carpenters did when I hung up mine."

"Amy, what she is saying is this. You and I have to stand in front of all these people. I take your shirt and bra off while everyone watches. While you're bare from the waist up we tie a ribbon to it and then together we stick the thing to the ceiling. That's the tradition," Dean said.

"Don't forget the kiss!" Molly inserted.

"What kiss, Dean?" Amy asked.

Dean looked over at Amy and said, "After we hang your bra from the ceiling we kiss. It has to be a long kiss, no quick pecks to get dressed quickly. After all that, I get to put your shirt back on. The whole thing can take upwards of ten minutes."

Molly interjected, "It's harder than you think and not simply because you're standing there naked. It takes much trust and love. Many couples can't complete it. As a matter of fact, most of the time it's the men that can't go through with it. That's the reason you have to do it in front of everyone. At one time, we tried just hanging the bras up without the man taking it off his woman in front of everyone. That idea didn't fly 'cause some guys would get their dates drunk and then out comes a bra. There were no promises made or commitments to keep.

"And you know, as corny as it all sounds, we have bras from all fifty states and several countries hanging from that ceiling of ours. Even if you're already married it doesn't matter; you make a promise to each other you plan on keeping.

"Amy, as much as I'd like to think Dean brought you in here for my cooking, I sense there's something he would like to ask you. Isn't that right, Dean?" Molly looked at him expectantly.

"I can't get anything over on you, can I, Molly?" Dean said then he placed both of Amy's hands into his, "Amy, I... I really don't know what words to use... but I would like us—you and me— to give it a try... I mean, if you think I'm worthy of a promise from you."

Amy's face blushed, she looked around the room and said, "You want me to stand in front of thirty-some people, none of which I know, then strip me naked from the waist up while everyone watches? Is that what you want me to do?"

"I thought we could do this together. I'm sorry, Amy; I should have known better," Dean said.

"Molly, would you give Dean and I a few minutes alone?" Amy asked.

"Not a problem," Molly said as she got up from the booth.

"Honey, I understand the concept. I don't want to sound this way but, what's in it for me? I don't feel comfortable being stripped down and giving everyone a free titty show at my expense.

"Amy, I'm really sorry. I didn't take into account your feelings. I've never asked any woman I've ever known to try this with me, not even Sandy. I was wrong. As for what's in it for you, Molly said we make a promise to each other. I was going to tell you I'm going to go to psychotherapy.

"I... I was going to stand up in front of all my friends and tell the world that I'm having mental problems. I can't cope with my life and I need help. That's what was in it for you. Do you have any idea how hard that would have been for me to say that?

"Regardless of your decision, I already made the appointment for early next week. I need the help. I'll do anything I need to do, to keep from losing you."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Amy asked.

"Yes, the appointment has been made and I'll follow through with it."

Amy squeezed his hands together. She looked around the room for Molly. Molly caught Amy's eye and came back over and sat down.

"Molly, no one will laugh at my small breasts will they?" Amy asked.

"No one will say a word," Molly promised.

"Amy? You don't have to. I'll follow through with what I told you even if you don't," Dean said.

"I know what's in it for me now," Amy said.

Amy took in several deep breaths and said, "I can do this..."

Amy held out her hand to Dean as they slid out from the booth. Amy brushed off her skirt and adjusted it slightly around her waist. She wobbled a bit in her boots, and she drew in another deep breath.

"Before I do..."

Amy stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, "I need to know something else. Is it really true? I'm the first woman you've ever worn a tie for?"

"Yes..."

Amy smiled and slipped her jacket off her shoulders and gave it to Molly.

"Where do you want me, Molly?" Amy asked.

"Amy, where ever you want. Where you stand, directly above you, will be where you and Dean will hang your bra."

"Here. Right here in the middle of the room. So everyone can see it!" Amy exclaimed.

"Ok then. Amy, you have to stay in that spot. You can't cover yourself with your arms. You two ready?" Molly asked.

"As ready as we can be," Dean answered.

"Everyone!" Molly called out. "Tonight Dean and Amy will make a promise to each other. Quiet now. Dean, you can begin."

Throughout the bar people stopped eating, and some stood and gathered about. Couples and single men came out from the game room and formed a semi-circle around the far end of the bar. The few men sitting on bar stools turned around while the barmaid rested her elbows on the top of the bar. The entire building became quiet except for a few muffled rumbles and clangs from the kitchen.

Every eye in the place was on them. Dean's hand shook as he fumbled with the buttons on Amy's shirt. She looked up into Dean's eyes, reassuring him, as she felt her shirt grow loose around her body.

"Dean, I'm okay with this."

The last button lost its grip, and she felt the rush of cool air as it hit her bare skin.

She bit down on her lip as Dean pulled her shirt out from the waistband of her skirt then slipped her shirt off her shoulders and down her arms. He handed it to Molly. Amy stood in the middle of the room her clothes gone to reveal a pastel yellow bra. She dropped her hands behind her back, locking her fingers together, giving everyone in the room a grand view of her body.

Dean moved behind Amy and placed both hands on the bra's clasp. "Are you sure?" he asked softly.

"Wait a second..." Amy said with a bit of excitement in her voice. "Dean, in my jacket pocket."

Molly held Amy's jacket out to Dean while he searched the pockets until he found a hair clip and handed it to Amy.

"I don't have that much to show, so I may as well let everyone see all that I have," Amy said as she pulled her hair up with the clip.

Amy looked around the room again and said to the group, "No laughing at the flat-chested girl."

Suddenly, one of the wooden stools creaked along the floor. Everyone look over and there stood a huge man sporting two day's worth of beard on his face.

"Amy, my name is Russell," he said in a deep voice. "We're all Dean's friends. We are his family. No one will laugh at you. No one will snicker at you. No one will make fun of you. If they do, they'll have me to contend with."

The stool creaked again as Russell sat back down. He folded his hands across his lap.

Amy smiled weakly in return and said, "Okay, Dean, I'm ready."

Dean rubbed Amy's arm a few times and then reached behind her with both hands and in a wink of an eye opened the clasp. Amy took in a deep breath as she felt the straps drop down from her shoulders. Dean gently slipped her bra from her body and held it in his hand. It was soft and warm from Amy's body.

Amy's petite breasts came into view. Everyone could see the light brown areola surrounding her nipples. The cool air in the bar caused her nipples to stiffen and point. Amy placed her hands behind her back and again locked her fingers together.

She was expecting gasps and guys pointing fingers at her but to her amazement instead she saw couples kissing while others drew their sweethearts in closer. Several men raised their glass in a toast to Amy.

Molly said, "Now, in front of us all, you both need to make your promise to each other."

Dean dropped his hands onto Amy's waist as he ran his thumbs around the waistband of her skirt. Dean fingers lingered there for a minute; their eyes locked onto each other. Dean ran his hands up Amy's warm bare back to her neck. Cupping her head in his hands he kissed her inviting lips. He ran his hands down her shoulders and then past her elbows holding her by just her fingertips as she pulled her arms out from her body.

Dean spoke first. Amy could see his eyes fill with tears.

"This year has been rough on me. In front of you, Amy, and all my friends, I need help. I promise you I'll go to psychotherapy because my head is a mess inside."

Dean took in a deep breath; a tear ran down the side of his face. "I've got some mental problems because of that damn war."

He held Amy's outstretched hands and continued, "Amy... I love you... I'll love you all my life. Together—you and me."

Tears ran down Amy's cheeks.

Amy tried to clear her throat then she said, "Dean, I... I wasn't expecting that..." her lips quivered as she tried to contain her emotions.

"Dean Bradley... I love you... My promise to you is I will never let you go. I love you... Together—me and you."

Molly printed their names and date on a small blue ribbon and handed it to Amy. They both tied the ribbon to the end of Amy's bra. Molly handed Dean a long stick with a notched end.

"Now, you two together push the pin up into the ceiling," Molly said.

Dean and Amy smiled and with their hands on top of each other's they pushed the pin deep into the wooden beam. Dean handed the stick back to Molly.

Dean held Amy's head with his hands as Amy's lips parted slightly. Dean's kissed her lips softly then placed a few small kisses along her cheek. He pulled her body into his.

Molly handed Amy's shirt to Dean, and he gently put it on. He slowly buttoned the shirt up and when he reached over to Molly to give him Amy's jacket, Amy touched his cheek, and said, "This is fine. I don't need my jacket right now."

She threw her arms around Dean's neck and kissed him again.

Molly called out, "The promise has been made!"

Molly reached out and touched Amy's shoulder and said, "I'm going to my office for a good cry! I didn't expect that from Dean. You really must be very special to him."

Amy placed her arms around his neck and whispered into his ear, "I can't tell you how long it's been since I've gone braless. I wouldn't put up much of a fight if some strong man came along and un-buttoned oh, say the top three buttons on my shirt. The cool air might make'em grow."

"I've got a secret to tell you, Amy," Dean said, "I happen to like A-cup beauties with long black hair and shapely legs. Hummm... Just like you!"

"Amy!"

She looked around to see Russell walking up to her. "Dean, would you mind if I borrow her for a minute?"

"Of course not. But you have to bring her back," Dean replied. "Amy, I'll be back in the game room playing darts with some of the guys."

"Follow me," Russell said.

Russell led her back to the bar. He placed his hands on her waist and lifted her off her feet and onto a bar stool.

"Shit, there's not much to you is there? What, about a hundred twenty pounds?"

"Yeah, about that, more or less." Amy said. "What's this all about, Russell?"

"I just wanted to say that was very brave of you. I fought beside Dean in the war; he's a hell of man. You may not know it, but what you did tonight did him more good than all those VA doctors have for the last year."

"Thanks, Russell. I didn't think I had it in me to stand there like that in front of all these strangers."

"I hope we're not strangers now. Amy..."

"What, Russell?"

Russell took Amy's hand into his and then placed her hand on her heart.

"Inside here, deep down in your heart, lays an unimaginable strength. You can't call it out. You can't wish it out. You can't summon it like a genie from his lamp. But it's there. Each and every one of us has this hidden strength. However, very few of us will ever see it emerge. Even fewer will be able to draw upon it when it's needed the most. Tonight you just tapped into a fraction of your own strength.

"I've seen it happen only twice in my lifetime. It's doesn't last long, maybe a few minutes at the most, but, Amy, you have it too. Deep down inside."

"I don't know. I think I used all my strength standing up in front of everyone like that," Amy said.

"It's still there, Amy." Russell smiled and walked away.

"There you are," Dean said. He slipped his hands around Amy's waist and lifted her down from the bar stool. Amy led him over to a vacant booth and pulled him in beside her. She placed her legs across his lap.

"When did you fall in love with me?" Amy asked.

"The first time we made love. I knew then you were the one."

"Would you have told me even if I chickened out tonight?"

"Tonight was the night, Amy. There's something else I'd like to ask you now. I'd like my apartment to become our apartment."

"I'd love that, Dean," Amy said as she slipped his hand under her skirt.

Suddenly, they heard Molly's voice ring out. "Everyone!" Molly called out, "Tonight Ellie and Jake will make a promise to each other."

Amy smiled and said, "Let's watch... then we'll go back to our home.

****

Dean seemed extra quiet for several days. For a while, Amy thought they were simply adjusting to their new arrangements, finding their comfort zone.

One night, Dean stared at the television while Amy curled up next to him with a book. Amy dropped the book and noticed Dean wasn't watching the TV anymore. He seemed disconnected. Amy slid over to him and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing... Just thinking..."

Amy went back to her book. Then Dean shut the TV off. He got up from the sofa and sat right back down on the carpet by Amy. He put a hand on her knee. Amy closed her book and touched his hand.

Dean's eyes went blank; his face expressionless as he spoke.

"We were on patrol. There were always children running about in the villages. My buddy and I gave one kid an apple. He seemed so happy with something as simple as an apple. He was running toward his home when the ground shook.

"A suicide bomber blew himself up in the market. That kid, eight, maybe ten, ran right into the blast. My buddy and I ran up, secured the location, and I looked down and there in the sand was the kid. The apple we just gave him still in his hand. I can't stand apples anymore."

Dean looked up at Amy with the saddest eyes she ever had ever seen and he said, "Amy, I can't do this much longer. The psychotherapy just isn't working. My therapist doesn't have a clue. I was getting shot at when he was trying to get his first date's pants down."

Amy pulled Dean back onto the sofa. "I'll be back..."

Fifteen minutes later Amy walked back into the living room; he hadn't moved. Amy wore just a pair of panties. "Here, give me your hand, honey," she said.