We Need To Talk Ch. 02

"I didn't realize Tommy had turned into such a bastard." Chris shook his head, "I am so sorry you had to put up with him like that. I don't know why he was incapable of showing you love or affection. That last time I visited, in Oregon, when he didn't come home. I figured he'd be at the bar on the corner and went to look for him. He was there and we talked.

"I asked him why, if you made him so crazy, why he didn't leave. He said he couldn't, when he had been overseas, the thought of you waiting for him was the only thing that made it possible to get through the day. As much as you aggravated him, he loved you.

"But, he told me, you weren't the source of the aggravation, you were just the reminder that he had fucked up, and spoiled what was supposed to be his play time. He wasn't ready to join the adult table. And he felt he hadn't had a choice.

"He told me about your response when he accused you of not caring about his career. I laughed at him. Told him he was stupid to have even asked you to participate, that he should have known what you'd do. The fucking job wasn't worth it. I told him your response was exactly right, you were telling him if he was going to pimp you out, then be damn sure the job was worth It, and this job wasn't. He agreed when I put it like that, didn't appreciate my pointing it out, though."

"No, he wouldn't have. I know he loved me, in his own way. At the end, when he was dying, he said he was glad I had decided to stick with him, that he couldn't have made it without me, and that nobody else would have stayed. It was as close to a thank you as I ever got, or to him actually saying he loved me. To me. You're going to have to tell me every day, Chris, at least once. Tell, not show, but you can do that, too." A tiny rumble from one of their stomachs was heard.

They both looked down to the source of the sound, smiling. "Oh, gracious. Look at the time. We've been talking, or I've been talking all day. I need to start supper. Feel like firing up the grill? We have fish, chops or steak, or burgers. What's your pleasure?"

"Burgers are fine. Salad?"

"I'll get it started. Want to open some wine? Do that before starting the fire, so it can breathe?"

"Got it. Anything else, chef Sue?"

"Don't get smart assed with me. It's your own fault for setting such a high standard this summer." She stood and shrugged off her robe, letting it lay on the floor as she went to the kitchen. Just before she disappeared through the door she glanced back over her shoulder. "Since I'm doing the cold part, I won't need the protection."

"You will if you want food to eat." he called to her.

They had put the robes back on to eat on the patio, but were forced to return inside for dessert by the chilly evening. Over the berries with homemade shortcake and Asti, Sue asked, "Last night, you said Ellen knew there was someone else, but didn't know who. Given the rest of what you said, the someone was me?"

Chris took a sip of wine to wash down the last of his shortcake, and set the glass down, not looking away, but still not meeting her gaze. "You were part of it, most of it. Like I told you earlier, I fell in love with you during the period you stayed with the folks after you lost the baby. I didn't realize that for a few years, when I stopped to analyze why I was so pissed at Tommy whenever we visited back and forth. I couldn't tell anyone why I was mad at him, so I had to pretend to be mad at, or to not like, you.

"Then just after our fourth wedding anniversary, I thought I discovered some evidence that Ellen was being unfaithful. A couple of motel receipts charged to our credit card. It hurt like hell. Instead of asking, I just went out and got drunk, one of maybe three times in my adult life. While I was doing that, I ran into some women who had been in some of my classes the previous semester. Four of them, two married, having a girls night out. We all got pretty shit -faced and wound up going back to the apartment the single girls shared. Before the night was done, I screwed 'em all.

"Toward dawn, I started to sober up, so I showered and left. When I didn't come home, Ellie had called a friend on the police force to see if there had been any accidents. He saw me walking and picked me up, to take me home. I convinced him I was okay to drive, so he turned around and was taking me to my car when he started talking about Ellie and her willingness to put herself out for her students. She had learned the father of one of them was physically abusing the student and his mother. To get them away from him, until she could get them help, she had paid for them to stay at a motel.

"Shit, the way I felt, I could have walked upright under a snake. I never told her what I had done, or what I had learned about what she had done. For some reason, she didn't want to talk about it. And, truth be told, a lot of the passion, maybe some of the love, had already disappeared from the marriage.

"We were good friends who shared a bed, and a couple of times a week, had sex. It wasn't really making love any more. Even though I was drunk, the sex I had with those four drunken women was just as satisfying, if not more." Chris looked up into Sue's eyes. "She never asked me where or why, but I'm pretty sure she knew what I had done. We stayed together another year, never talking about any of it.

"Nothing changed. We still shared the bed, and every Wednesday and Saturday, we screwed each other, but there was nothing there. Then one Saturday night, we were going to bed, and I saw her getting her diaphragm ready. I asked her why were we doing it and she turned and looked at me like I had three heads.

"I went downstairs and got a bottle of wine and some glasses and then went back to her. We drank the wine and talked until dawn. She told me about the student, and said she hadn't told me at the time because I seemed so busy and remote, she didn't think I'd care. I told her about finding the receipts, and how I felt. I didn't tell her about the women, I was too ashamed. She did ask if I had been unfaithful; when I told her only once, physically, she just nodded, as if she already knew the answer.

"We looked at our relationship, really looked at it, and where we were going professionally. We realized it wasn't going to work, in the long run. We could have stayed together for a couple of more years, but not much more. We wound up making love for the first time in two years, then I got up, packed and moved out that evening. We've stayed in contact, I even spent Christmas with them once when I was on assignment in L.A., although that's a while ago.

"If your question was, were you responsible for my marriage failing, I don't think so. I think Ellen and I were just two real good friends who got caught up in the wedding frenzy when all of our friends were getting married. We enjoyed each other in bed, genuinely liked each other as persons and thought we could build a life on that, like so many people seem to. And like so many, found we were wrong."

"And companions since then?" Sue asked with a smile and twinkle in her eye.

Chris raised an eyebrow at her. "You looking for confessions?" he replied. "Yes, there have been some. Over the years, there have been a few women I have met on a regular basis who have been willing to let me share their beds when I've been in their vicinity. Mostly single, thirty and forty somethings, some single mothers, some separated, on their way to divorce, two couples, one female, one mixed. Or is that TMI?"

"It's more detail than I expected, but about what I thought. You're too handsome not to have had women make themselves available to you. From the quantity you listed, am I to assume there weren't any strong emotional attachments." Again, the smile and the hint of amusement in her eyes made it seem more like teasing than probing.

Chris' face first went somber, then smiled. "No, no emotional attachments. My heart was busy elsewhere." Sue returned his smile.

"It's getting late. Let's stack these dishes and continue this conversation in bed," she said, standing up. Chris just smiled and started gathering the dishes in a pile while Sue covered the berries and shortcake.

They lay facing each other, only their feet touching. Chris was smiling, his eyes bright with joy. Sue looked at him, recognizing the meaning behind his smile, and returned it, partly in response to the smile, mostly in response to the love it conveyed.

"I don't want to sound mercenary," she started, "but do you intend to keep on working? With the income from the rents, and from the wineries, do you need to keep traveling?" Chris saw and heard a small frown in her expression.

"I don't travel because I need the money. If I didn't, if I had stayed here and only took care of the business the farm represents, we wouldn't be lying here right now. I would have gone bonkers years ago. Much as I love it here, and like the people in the village, I need to get to the larger cities, to be among city people for a while every few months, to get out and interact with people familiar with the popular culture.

"Not that the people in the village aren't aware, it's just they don't have to interact with it. Sometimes that need in me becomes like an obsession and I have to get away. That will probably change with you here, but I don't think it will entirely disappear. Hopefully, you will want to come with me."

"Sometimes, probably. But, while I missed you terribly, I have to say I really enjoyed my month alone. I know that may, probably will change, and I can understand your need to experience the hustle and bustle of cities now and then." She hesitated, looking into his eyes, chewing on her lower lip.

"Please don't misunderstand what I'm about to say. I am in love with you, more than I can ever remember being in love with Tommy, and I love you, more now than I did this morning, and I thought that was going to make me burst. But, when you are traveling alone, if you feel the need to visit some of the women you told me about, the single thirty and forty somethings, I'll understand."

She paused, then went on, "I'm not asking for, I don't want the same kind of permission," she said, still looking in his eyes. "Until you pack my bag and drop me at a bus station with orders not to return, no other man is going to come close to my lady. Even my gynecologist will be a woman."

At that, Chris grinned and leaned in to kiss her lightly. "No other man, huh? Does that mean if I bring home another woman, you might think about it?" He kissed her before she could answer. "Thank you for what you said. But, if the need for a woman's attention gets that great that I need to consider visiting someone else, I'd be on the next flight home."

His hand reached out and slid over her hip to her buttocks and pulled her closer, so he could feel the warmth of her body, but not the touch. "The only time this dick will visit anyone but you is if you give me a direct order to fuck her by name. Understood?"

"So, you're putting me in charge of your Mr. Mister? Meaning I can have it whenever I want it, and if I want you to pleasure the seventy-five year old widow down the road, you'll do that, too?" She teased.

"Hmm, only if I'm certain you really mean it." He looked at her, his brow furrowed, "I'm sort of curious now, though. Would you, what would you call it, loan me out?"

"I don't know. The circumstances would have to be pretty special, and the person someone we both care about a lot; not just for casual sex, but in a situation where it would really be meaningful for her as well as for you; but probably more for her sake. What about you, can you see a situation where you'd "loan me" to another man?"

He thought for several seconds. "No, I can't think of a situation where that would be likely to occur, or a man I think enough of. The only man who might have had that kind of claim is no longer capable of using it. And even if he was, I think I'd still let him think I was ungrateful and ungracious rather than share you.

"The mixed couple you mentioned?"

"Mmhmm. He's well into his seventies now, and suffers ED due to diabetic neuropathy. I suppose he's still capable of oral sex; it's been a while since I visited him and his woman."

"His woman, not wife?"

"Yeah, last I knew he and Vicki weren't married. She'd be about fifty now. It was her idea I join them. He could only get it up then watching her with another guy. He'd get her ready, I'd screw her, then he'd clean her juices off me, mine off her, then fuck the bejesus out of her. Then he'd clean her up and have me do her again, while he went to sleep next to us. It was always the same."

"People in their relationships are as varied as the snowflakes in a blizzard. It never fails to amaze me. Meanwhile, all this talk of sex and sharing has one of us all wet," she said, throwing her leg over his hip. "And you have to do something about it. I command you to fuck Susan!" she said, with a faux haughty tone in her voice, her face alight with love and passion.

"You do, huh. Then I guess I'll have to, but it'll be hard."

"I hope so, otherwise you won't be able...mmmff" and her comment was sealed by his kiss as he entered her.

Chris' bladder, aided by the first rays of the sun, woke him. Sue was still wrapped around him, her leg over his hip, her arms around his neck and shoulder, her pelvis pressing his piss hard into his belly. When he tried to extricate himself, she gave out a soft moaning "No," and tightened all her grips.

"Either that, or the wet spot is going to get a lot wetter," he told her.

"Okay, but come right back. It's cold and lonesome when you're not here."

"I promise," he said, kissing her forehead. "I'll be back as soon as the water works shut down."

She looked up at him, her eyes finally open, grinning. "Just be sure you don't walk away and leave the water running."

He just laughed and walked into the bathroom. The sound of his stream triggered a need in Sue, who soon followed him. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Didn't want you to get lonely," she whispered in his ear.

"It has always amazed me, the male plumbing has. Both life creating seed, and liquid waste using the same exit from the body." She peeked around his shoulder, watching his stream diminish and stop. "Oh, good! I was afraid you were going to go on forever. If you will excuse me, your running water has had its predictable effect on my bladder," she said sitting down. "I'll see you in bed in a minute."

Chris laughed and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I'll be waiting." On the way back to the bedroom, he thought he heard a noise, crunching gravel, come from the front of the house. He went to look out the front window, and saw a strange car pulled up on the far side of the driveway. He was unable to see the driver because of the angle.

When he got back to the bedroom, Sue was just getting into bed. He glanced at the clock- -half past seven, on a Saturday morning. He looked at Sue, pulling on a pair of jockeys and sweat pants. "You better put on a nightgown and robe. It looks like we have company. There's a car in the driveway I don't recognize. I can't tell where the plates are from, can't get a good look at them. You expecting any one? Or have any ideas?"

Sue shook her head. "The only people I know who might visit unannounced are my family, and they don't know where I am, or where you live. Your manager?"

"She thinks I'm still in Washington. I wasn't scheduled to leave until tomorrow morning. I requested stand-by status Thursday. I'll go invite them in, unless it's a lost sightseer, at this ungodly hour."

While he had washed his face and found a pullover, Sue had thrown on a flannel knee length nightie and her robe, and had gone to the kitchen to make coffee.

Chris slipped his feet into the thong sandals he kept by the front door and stepped into the late September crisp morning air. The small sedan had pulled up just past the front door, across the drive, so he had to approach it from the back, walking into the rising sun. As he turned to walk to the driver's door, he caught a glimpse of shoulder length sun bleached blonde hair. Just as he reached the passenger door, the car started, and began to pull away. He rapped on the window, startling the driver, causing the car to stall.

He opened the door, asking, "Is there something we can do for you?"

The driver turned a tear stained face, with a small mouse under her left eye, to him. "Hi, Chris. Would you have a spare bedroom I can borrow for a while?" she asked with the tears plain in her voice.

"O my god, Ellen! What are you doing here? Are you okay? Where are Rick and Mike? How'd you get the shiner?" The questions tumbled out of him. "Come in, we'll get coffee and breakfast. Have you eaten?"

"Thank you, coffee would be great." She swung her legs out to stand up. When Rick reached out to help her up, she stood and stepped into his arms, wrapping him in a hug. "It's good to see you again."

"You, too. C'mon in. Sue will be glad to see you again, too. We were just talking about you last night."

"She's still here, and you two haven't killed each other. Miracles do happen," she said, giving a half laugh.

"Yes, " he agreed, "they do." He pushed open the door, ushering Ellen inside. "Sue, come see who's here to visit."

Sue came into the living room from the kitchen. In her mid thigh length robe, over the knee length flannel nightgown, with her still sleep tousled hair, she looked very much like the lady of the house on a weekend morning.

She looked at the visitor, slightly puzzled, then recognized her. "Ellen," she screeched and ran to her, wrapping her up in a giant hug. "Oh, my god, its been forever and a day. Is your family with you? How long are you going to be around? Of course you'll stay here, right, Chris? Sit, sit, I'll bring the coffee."

Ellen looked at Sue, heading to the kitchen, then at Chris. "Are you two...?" Chris nodded. "And when I called, I was afraid you'd kill each other. Look, I don't want to be in the way. I should just go."

"What's wrong, Ellen? Who hit you? Was that Rick?"

Sue heard the questions as she came back into the room, coffee and supplies on a tray. She set the tray down, then took hold of Ellen's chin and turned her left cheek into the light. "That bruise is about three days old. About the time to drive from Los Angeles, if you didn't stop too long anywhere. Talk to us, Ellen. It's amazing what unloading that kind of baggage can accomplish."

"Coffee first," she said. "I haven't stopped for anything but gas since I left St Louis yesterday morning." She accepted a cup from Sue, added sugar and creamer, then tested it for heat. She looked at Sue. "You look a thousand percent better than you sounded when you called."

"Thanks, that's about how I feel, thanks to you, Chris and this place. Mostly Chris, though, and his cooking. Wait until you try his chicken casserole. It's to die for."

"You cook, too?" she asked, looking at Chris.

"Too?" asked Sue.

"She guessed about us. But," he went on, looking at Ellen, "that is such a recent development, the only thing it might explain is her hairdo."

"What's wrong with my hair?" Sue asked, in mock indignation, resulting in laughs all around.

Ellen took a small sip of coffee, then drained her cup. "You didn't buy that in any supermarket. I may live 'til lunch, now," she commented, setting her cup down.

"I was serious, Chris, when I asked if you had a spare bedroom I could borrow. If I had known you were still here, Sue, I probably wouldn't have come, but I couldn't think of any place else to go."

"What's happened, El? Have you left Rick?"

She nodded. "That is sort of the summary statement.

"When I called you about Sue, remember I said we were going to school to pick up Michael. He was at the University of Colorado at Boulder. Over the summer, he transferred to UCLA and was staying at home this semester, waiting for a room in the dorms.