Tunnel of Love Pt. 03

Before Jennifer could respond, Mike was gone.

* * *

Later, Mike was at the grocery store. When he'd dropped Mikey off at Collette's house, she'd said that she planned to order pizza. Mike reminded her of the "condition" he'd imposed and said that he would be back, before dinnertime, with a surprise. Now, after a quick workout, shower, and change of clothes, he was shopping for groceries. Ingredients, to be more precise.

As he did so, he thought about the encounter with Jennifer. Once again, while in Jennifer's presence, he'd felt so conflicted; especially there, in her classroom. How could this teacher—this Kindergarten teacher—be the same woman he saw on the video?

It was so incongruous, his mind had nearly rejected the Jennifer in the video as real. That had left, there in that room, only the Jennifer he knew before...and still loved. But now, some time later—and alone—his emotions seemed surprisingly flat.

Right here, right now...I don't feel like I did in that classroom. I feel younger, freer...independent. Like I haven't felt...since before I met Jennifer.

He'd always thought of true love as something permanent, something indelible, but perhaps he'd been wrong? If Jennifer could fall in and out of love for him—fall for some other man when Mike wasn't around—was it all that strange, Mike thought, that he might also change?

Mike remembered how Dr. Seymour had suggested an explanation, in "computer terms," of Jennifer's affair. He wondered if the good doctor would try to find a similar analogy for what he was experiencing. Perhaps she would say he'd suffered an external disturbance—like someone ripping the power cord out of the wall. Perhaps she would say he was "booting up" again. But why, he wondered, was he beginning to conceive of a life without Jennifer—his true love?

Okay, Mr. Software Engineer, what happens after an unexpected power down? What happens after a crash, for that matter? The system recovers...but you may lose some things. You may lose some things...but the system recovers. It reverts.

It reverts...to a previous state.

Hmmm... We think of our personalities, our memories, our feelings as constantly evolving, the old overwriting the new. But what if that's not entirely true? What if our old selves get "saved" somewhere, ready to be recalled if trauma strikes? What if, like computers, we can revert to a previous state?

Passing a stand of magazines, prominently featuring issue after issue of wedding planners, Mike's thoughts returned to Jennifer. In light of the video, her disturbance no longer seemed akin to a crash, as Dr. Seymour had suggested. This duality, "his" Jennifer and the "other" Jennifer...

Two profiles. Is that what it is? Like two people operating the same computer. Same operating system, same software, but different settings, different preferences...different identity.

Is that what had developed in her: not an instability, not a crash, but a new profile? An alternative to, but not a replacement of, the original?

She's at the gym, a hot guy hits on her, she thinks it would be harmless fun to flirt a little, so she imagines herself as someone else. She switches users...logs on a guest. It carries on for a while; the profile builds...but when she comes home, she logs on with her old profile. So she goes, for weeks, switching back and forth, and the new profile continues to build. And one night, it's so complete...she's off to his apartment to fuck him.

Despite the horror in those thoughts, Mike perversely felt a glimmer of hope for his future.

Maybe, in "rebooting," I can build a new profile too. Get over Jennifer but keeping everything I've learned about women in that time; all the latest "hardware" and "software"...

Mike remembered something Collette had said. Something about not being the only single mom who'd looked in Mike's direction.

Maybe the gap has narrowed between me and the players. I wonder, how many women Collette's age are tired of players? Where have the players gotten them? Where are the players now, anyway?

As he reached the checkout stand, Mike answered his own question. At school, at scout functions, they were the butt of jokes: scandalous—or pathetic—subjects of gossip. The old players...maybe most of them were played out now? Like the seemingly endless parade of ex-teen idols and rock stars on those reality shows, with their assortments of hats to hide their balding heads?

Coltez is the exception, maybe. He's a stud, I'll give him that. But maybe not every woman is looking for a Coltez now. Maybe I don't have to compete with guys like him; at least, not for the same women. Maybe some women have moved on to a different game. One that calls for...a different kind of player.

Mike collected his receipt, grabbed his bags, and walked to his car.

Okay buddy, enough amateur psychology. "Psychobabble," isn't that what they call it? Let's go enjoy a good meal, after all that crap you've been eating at the hotel.

Mike stowed the grocery bags, got in the car, and headed to Collette's house.

* * *

While finishing her shower, Jennifer thought about her encounter with Mike. How good he'd looked, standing in the doorway of her classroom! If only he'd closed the door, pulled down her pants as she'd been bending over the desk...

Odd, how in the midst of all this emotional trauma, I still have these intense sexual feelings. Grief and lust, a strange but potent combination. Like that night at James' apartment.

Jennifer felt something besides grief tingeing her desire. Perhaps it was shame, guilt, insecurity—or all of them. When she'd been reconnecting sexually with Mike, she'd wanted the intimacy, the love to return. But since she'd seen the video—or maybe all along—there was something else nagging at her.

I wish Mike would just...take me. Dominate me; use me. Not for my pleasure, but as...punishment? Punishment for the lies, the concealments, the betrayal?

Getting Mike back seemed like a long shot. Perhaps, Jennifer thought, punishment would have to come from elsewhere. Stepping out of the shower, she dried her body while steeling herself for the evening ahead.

I can't believe I'm going over there, alone, hoping and praying that Peter will chicken out and I won't have to...

But if I do, it won't matter anyway, will it? I've already lost Mike, haven't I?

As Jennifer began to dress for her "date" with Peter, she thought about other times she'd gotten ready to see him. Though Peter had often been alone when getting together with Jennifer—for reasons she now understood—other times he'd had beautiful dates; so beautiful, Jennifer had kept a jealous eye on Mike.

Peter has a lot of charm. And he's not unattractive—he's always had lots of girls. But I never had sexual feelings for him. Why was that?

As Jennifer put on her makeup, she continued to be intrigued by the question.

Maybe some part of me sensed his dark side. The hidden danger of him. I never saw it consciously, but maybe I picked up on it subconsciously. And maybe that was enough to lock down any...feelings...I might otherwise have developed.

Jennifer felt odd, wearing a dress without a bra. She remembered something that Dr. Seymour had said.

"Jennifer, as much as we like our comfort zones, sometimes when we get outside them—or get taken outside them—it can be exciting. Do you agree?"

"Um...I...suppose. Maybe. Sometimes."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I guess...well, when something makes you feel nervous or scared, it also makes you feel...well, more alive, I guess...But—well, I'm not one of those 'extreme' people in the news and stuff. I can't imagine living on the edge all the time."

Since Black Sunday, Jennifer had been living on edge all the time. Tonight, she felt, she was on the razor's edge. Perhaps this was her new life, her new place.

Jennifer finished getting ready, wrapped herself in a warm coat, and headed to Peter's house.

* * * * *

So when you look at me
You better look hard and look twice
Is that me, baby—
Or just a brilliant disguise?

CHAPTER 9: The Players and the Played

Collette's heart raced as she walked to the door to let Mike in. All day long, she'd been telling herself that Mike was doing something nice for Mikey and Bobby and that the evening had nothing to do with her. She shouldn't expect nor try to win any attention from this man who was going through hell—a hell she'd known herself.

So why am I wearing this low-cut blouse, these form-flattering pants, and open-toed shoes with freshly painted nails? Why did I spend so much time choosing my lipstick? Why I am even wearing lipstick?

She'd already seen Mike once today—when he'd dropped Mikey off. He'd been gone for a while, but now he was back, grocery bags in hand. Collette led him to the kitchen and helped him unload.

"So, what have the kids been up to?" he asked.

"Everything! They played outside for a while. Now they're up in Bobby's room."

"Wish I could play with them, but we've got to get started. Now, we're going to need a large frying pan, a sauce pan..."

Collette collected the items Mike requested and watched with interest as he began cooking. She'd expected to have to help him, but to her surprise, Mike knew what he was doing. Before long, the kitchen smelled wonderful.

Quite a contrast to the smells of frozen food coming out of the microwave and whatever I was drinking at the time.

When the meal was ready, Collette called the kids down to the dining room. It had been some time since she'd used that room. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time.

Might it have been...my god...when Richard was still here? Have we been eating off that little table in the kitchen ever since?

* * *

Peter's pulse quickened when he heard the doorbell. He'd dismissed the servants for the night, so he answered the door himself. Before opening it, he checked to make sure Jennifer had come alone. She had.

"Jennifer, you look lovely. Please come in."

He took her long coat and hung it by the door. Jennifer was dressed in a short, black skirt. Her legs were bare. Peter felt a throb in his groin, and a stronger throb when he noticed that Jennifer's chest looked a little unusual.

No bra! I didn't actually expect you to follow that order, Jen. Is there a submissive streak in you after all?

Peter escorted her to a small, candlelit dining area off the main dining room and kitchen. This was Peter's "dinner for two" nook: a semi-circle of a room, lined along the curve with windows overlooking a wooded canyon. A small, high table with two high chairs was the room's main feature.

The table was beautifully set, with covers on the plates to keep the contents warm. Peter helped Jennifer sit down, then removed the covers and set them on a counter. The meal was well-presented and no doubt delicious; Peter's cook had done an excellent job.

From the wine bar in the room, Peter poured two glasses and brought then to the table. Sitting down, he offered a toast.

"To reconciliations!"

* * *

The dinner at the Davis home was boisterous and filling. When Mike brought out the ice cream, Bobby and Mikey broke into surprised but gleeful grins. The ice cream surprised Collette, too—Mike had slipped it into the freezer when she hadn't been looking. He offered her some, but while looking at it longingly, she tried to decline.

"Thanks, Mike, but I'm trying to...you know, lose some weight..."

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Mike forced a bowl into her hands. "Don't be silly, Collette. You do nothing but turn heads every time you cross that school yard."

Collette blushed. Then, remembering how she'd turned around that day and seen Mike watching her, she blushed even brighter. Sometimes it was terrible, having fair skin.

Maybe I should get a tan...would that help? And Mike seems to like tanned women...oh, stop it, girl!

Before Mike and Collette had barely begun, Bobby and Mikey had wolfed down their portions, excused themselves, and gone back upstairs. The dining room was quiet for a moment. Looking up from her bowl, Collette noticed Mike staring at a small, framed photograph on a corner table. A photograph of a much younger Collette, a much younger Bobby, and a man Mike had never met.

"That's Richard," Collette said. "I don't know why I keep that photo. I had reasons, once, but now...I don't know. And I hardly ever come in here anymore."

"The three of you look...very happy in that photo," Mike said.

"Yeah...we were happy then, I think. And people used to say we were a hot couple. Maybe that's why I kept the picture; to show that I was pretty, once."

"Once?" Mike said, disagreeing with her use of the past tense. Then, he hastily added, "Um...this is pretty good ice cream." Collette was glad to see him peering at his bowl; it kept him from seeing that she'd blushed again.

"So," Mike said, "what happened...if you don't mind my asking?"

Collette hesitated. Her past embarrassed her. She was afraid to tell her story and seem like a loser, like a failure, especially to the man at the table with her. She remembered, however, that this was a man who might be able to relate. Plus...it would feel good to talk to someone.

So Collette talked. She talked about meeting Richard, about the earliest years of their marriage, and Bobby's birth. There were some rough patches, it sounded to Mike, but some good times too.

"But as Bobby got older," Collette said, her tone darkening, "things started to change. Richard started to change. While Bobby was in preschool, things just got more and more...off...between us. We seemed to have less and less time together, and we weren't communicating well. By the time Bobby started kindergarten, we were fighting a lot."

"That's when I began drinking more than usual. And Richard just got increasingly distant, cold. We still...god, I can't believe I'm telling you this...we still had, um, 'relations' fairly often, but it was different. He wanted more from me...different things...and there just wasn't much love in any of it."

"By the end of kindergarten, I was on my way to being an alcoholic, I guess. Richard...it was around that time that he...well, he had these ideas for 'spicing things up' and I...um, let's just say things got very complicated."

"At the end of summer, right as Bobby was starting first grade, I found out that Richard had been having an affair. He didn't deny it, didn't apologize. He blamed me, said I wasn't...'interesting' or 'exciting' enough anymore, that I was just this 'boring mom.'

"That's when the divorce started, and when I really hit the bottle hard. Fortunately I found a lawyer who did a pretty good job of looking out for me. Richard went off with the...other woman...didn't even try to get custody of Bobby or much in the way of visitation rights. He kept in touch for a little while, but then they moved out-of-state. Not sure if they're still together.

"You know, I don't...I don't think Richard totally loved her. He may not even have liked her. It was more, I think, that he couldn't resist her. Once his dark side was out, he just lost control."

* * *

Peter stared at Jennifer, searching for signs of the animal he'd seen in the video. For signs of the woman, once an unshakably loyal wife, who had moaned as James had played with her nipples. The woman who had sought out and kissed James' cock. She was in there, somewhere; he just needed to utilize the right combination of carrots and sticks to coax her out.

Before, he'd been all sticks, but this was carrot time. As they ate, there was no hint of the sinister insinuations he'd made at the park and on the phone. Instead, Peter dialed up the charm that had made them friends those many years ago. He reminded Jennifer of good times past, of places and people mutually known, of experiences shared.

It seemed to Peter that Jennifer was relaxing. Perhaps it was the conversation, the first good meal she'd had in weeks, the wine, or the combination thereof. Perhaps she felt a respite from the exhaustion and loneliness that had plagued her of late.

Peter was anything but relaxed. Here was Jennifer Chancey, the former Jennifer Robertson, his holy grail—alone in his house, wearing next to nothing, and at his mercy. When the time came, he did not intend to show any.

He wondered, however, how much resistance she would actually present. After all, her life had fallen apart. Now, she was with a man who desired her and was getting a glimpse of the lifestyle he could offer her. It was better than the other future she was facing.

Suddenly, Peter thought he should check on something. Surely his man would alert him if something was wrong, but still...you could never be too careful. The last thing Peter wanted this evening was an unanticipated and angry knock on his door. So, he excused himself, went to another room, and placed a phone call.

"Is he at his hotel?" Peter asked his investigator.

"No," came the answer.

Shit.

"He's taken the boy to another family's house. A blonde lady, a pretty one, with a kid; haven't seen a husband."

Sh—what? No...could it be?

"Run a check. Use the address."

"Checking...listing is for Collette Davis. No other name. Let me run some other checks...hmm...yes, here's something: Collette Davis. Divorced."

Peter could barely contain his glee. Just when he thought this evening couldn't get any better! And to be handed this by the boy scout, of all people!

Ex-boy scout, apparently. I wonder if I made a mistake, all those years. Trying to chip away at Jennifer...hiring James to seduce her. What if, all along, Chancey was the weak link? Should I have hired a woman to seduce him? Does James have...a female counterpart, out there, somewhere?

Oh well, no point second-guessing himself, Peter thought. It was all working out.

You had James' dick in your mouth, Jen. You must have wanted it...but your misplaced sense of duty to Chancey got in the way. Well, we can dispose of that, now.

Returning to the dining room, Peter smiled at Jennifer.

I'm glad, Jen, that you held out. I'm glad I get to finish the job. I was never happy with the idea of James getting you first.

* * *

"So," Collette continued, "Richard left, and I found myself alone, with Bobby. Money wasn't too much of an issue because Richard had done pretty well and so had my lawyer; but still, I had to go back to work, part time. Despite the drinking, I managed to function."

"But it must have been terrible."

"Yes. My self-esteem took such a big hit, Mike. And I was lonely, and worried about Bobby not having a man's influence, a father figure. All that, plus the alcohol, and I...well, I made some bad decisions, if you can call them that. Threw myself at some men, out of desperation. And I thought...after Richard...I thought that's what a man wants, a...you know...someone sleazy. So, that's what I became."

Mike shook his head. Collette wondered if was in disapproval of her—or Jennifer? She couldn't bear the thought that it might be the former.

"Mike, it's not half as bad as what you've probably heard! Women...gossip...it's brutal. I haven't, you know, done the whole town. But yes, I had some sorry experiences.

"Then Bobby and Mikey ended up in the same class, and I met you...well, you know the rest. I said some things, did some things that were inappropriate. I probably don't even remember most of them; I was so wasted much of the time.

"Thanks to you, though, I'm cleaning up my act. I realize that the person I was becoming...the person I thought Richard had wanted me to be...that kind of person was attracting the wrong kind of man. I don't want to be that person, and I don't want another Richard."