You Win Some, You Lose Some

Learn and Grow

The rest of the evening passed, as it normally would have, either with writing or re-reading a finished work, editing it to make it better. Then the next day was full of people wanting their book signed. People praising me because I could put 10 words in a row and give them something in a book worth reading. In a way, I always enjoy book signings because it lets me talk to my readers. Lets me see who is really buying my books, and with a couple of quick questions I can tell if they've actually read one of them or not. Maybe a little bit of an ego thing, but I like to think I touch people when I write. Letters and emails are nice to get. Any kind of validation makes me feel I'm doing my job, but seeing the faces, shaking the hands, listening to the voices makes it real.

Done at three, then a quick meeting with my agent wanting to know the status of my next magnum opus (the manuscript I had with me in the lounge). I gave it to him, telling him that I was done with the re-read and it was ready to go to the publisher for editing, which brought a smile to his face. (Agents are easy to please. Give them something to sell so they can collect their percentage and they're happy campers.) We set up an itinerary for my next series of book signings, starting in another city in a few days. Then back to the hotel for dinner.

After freshening up in my suite, I walked into the restaurant around 6:30. It was a nice one too, for a hotel. Linen tablecloths and waiters dressed in tuxes amid the low buzz of voices and a muted clink of silver flatware. But then, my publisher wouldn't let me starve. I was worth too much to them. I stood at the door for a moment to see if it was busy and was pleased when I noticed Den and Tom sitting at a fairly prominent table. They were looking at me. Actually they must have been watching the entrance. I smiled to them and nodded. Tom stood and motioned for me to come to their table, so I did.

"Thank you for coming over," Tom said. "We've talked a lot since last night and although 'Nissa is still not really for it, she did agree to at least let you talk to us."

"That's great," I said. "Would you be my guests for dinner? I've not eaten yet and I skipped lunch."

Tom looked hesitant, so I looked at Den. "Please?" I begged. "I rarely have company for dinner that isn't business. Just good food, good wine and good conversation. We've got plenty of time to talk about 'that' topic." I held my hand out to her, "Come. Dine with me." She smiled finally, cute dimples at the corners of her mouth as she did. "Sure," she said and took my hand.

I caught the eye of the maitre d and held up three fingers. He glided across the room and escorted us to a round booth off to the side. I moved to allow Den to slide into the booth, and Tom to sit beside her. I sat down at the other end, which placed Den between Tom and me in the booth. Leon handed us menus and asked if we wanted drinks. I looked to Tom and noted he had a bit of a puzzled expression on his face. I asked him, "What's wrong, Tom?"

He looked a little embarrassed and said. "Um, I'm not much of a drinker. Usually just some beer on occasion, but…." I held up my hand. "Tom, look. It's just us chickens here. Order what you want. Be comfortable." He looked relieved but still a bit uncomfortable. "Well," he started, "we came here to try some new things -- to experience things we can't get or do at home."

"Ok, then," I replied, "let me order drinks for you." Tom looked at Den, and she nodded imperceptibly. Tom said, "Sure. Nothing out of this world though." I grinned and told Leon to get him a Tom Collins, for her, a gin and tonic with a twist, and my usual. Leon bowed slightly and moved off.

"So, you are tourists in this great city?" I asked Den.

She hesitated a second as if she were afraid to talk to me, then said, "Yeah. We're from a small town in North Carolina and this is the first time we've really been able to afford to do this."

I nodded, leaning back so a waiter could serve our drinks. "It can be expensive here. I used to wonder how people made ends meet here. Then I asked what the salaries are here and understood. It may cost twice as much to live here, but the money is twice as good too, so it all balances out." I sipped my drink (ginger ale, as I don't drink alcohol any longer) and watched as Den sipped her gin and tonic. She screwed up her nose like she wasn't sure what she'd gotten into, then looked up and saw the slight grin on my face, and took another sip. Tom sipped his TC and I could tell he wasn't really fond of it.

"How is it, Den?" I asked. "Different." she replied. "I'm not sure I like it."

That was honest. Good. "Want to try something else?" I asked. Tom replied, "'Nis, let's swap." They changed drinks and sipped. Tom looked much happier, and Den's eyes widened, as she tasted the Tom Collins. She took a slightly larger drink and said, "That's good!"

I grinned wryly "Well, I was close. Right drinks, wrong people." They laughed a bit. I could tell they were finally getting comfortable. The rest of dinner was just as I'd promised. Good food. Tom had a steak, and Den had pheasant while I enjoyed blackened whitefish. Dessert was a chocolate mousse you could immerse yourself in, and the conversation was light and airy. I asked some questions about North Carolina, having never been there, and we talked about the city, what they'd seen, what I thought they may want to see while in town.

When dessert was served, I asked Den about her plethora of names "What ~is~ your name?" I asked. "I've heard Tom call you 'Den', 'Nis' and 'Nissa', and I'm not really sure which I'm supposed to use."

She smiled (those dimples again..!) "My name is actually Denissa. I tell people my parents actually wanted a boy and had Dennis already picked out." Her brown eyes sparkled as she said that. "Actually, I've got an uncle named Dennis, and they wanted to honor him. You can call me Den or 'Nissa, whichever you like best"

I smiled back, "That's a great story. I think I like 'Nissa best."

A bit more conversation, then I asked "Are we ready to adjourn?" 'Nissa and Tom glanced at each other, asking unspoken questions. Then 'Nissa dropped her eyes in a sign of resignation. "Come on," I said to her gently. "We're just going to talk. Nothing else. No promises, no debts owed. " She nodded and made motions to get out of the booth.

Tom asked as we were leaving, "Don't we need to pay somewhere?" I said, as we crossed the lobby to the elevators, "No. Leon knows to charge it to my room. Besides, I told you it was my treat, and the conversation and company was well worth the price of a dinner."

As the elevator was going up, I took an opportunity to look closely at Tom and 'Nissa. Both were nicely dressed, but I could tell from the cut of his coat it was a few years old. Her dress, while nice enough, was rather conservative as it came down just below her knees and her shoes were simple flats. She was wearing a white blouse, which revealed in its shadows a white, basic bra. Nothing fancy, no frills. Just basics. I think my appraisal of her was a bit too close as 'Nissa caught me looking. She gave me back a tentative smile, and I smiled warmly back to reassure her. Keeping them at ease and comfortable was important for this process to work. Communication was the key, and in order for communication to work, everybody had to be listening. And talking.

The doors to the elevator stopped, and we exited. The sixth floor starts the "ritzy" section of this particular hotel, and I had a medium-sized suite provided by my publisher. Having number one books does have its perks. Running the keycard through the slot, I opened the door for them, letting them walk into the living room first. Two bedrooms and a large living area, a full bar (never gets used by me except for sodas in the fridge), comfortable furniture, large TV/theater setup (also rarely used by me) and the one thing I really liked about being in 618.

"Oh, how lovely!" were 'Nissa's first words on seeing the view of the city. The sun had gone down and the lights of the city were shining bright, sparkling like multicolored stars in the blackness. Tom wasn't quite as impressed by the 'splash' of the skyline, but his interest in the room itself did impress him. I could see him studying the furniture and saw his eyes widen a bit as he recognized the quality of the work.

"Please, have a seat," I urged, gesturing toward the couch. "Would you like a drink?"

Tom took off his jacket, draping it over the arm of the couch and said, "I'd like another of those gin and tonics. I've never tasted anything quite like it. Reminds me of pine trees and a cold drink of water in the woods." 'Nissa was still standing at the window but turned and said she wanted another Tom Collins. I walked over to the bar to see if I could remember how to make a TC while looking for glasses and mixers.

"You'll have to forgive me," I said, mixing the gin and tonic for Tom. "I've not messed with mixing drinks in a long time, so if it tastes a little funny, its because I've forgotten how to make it right."

Finishing up the TC, I handed out the drinks and moved back behind the bar to pour myself a coke. Besides, everyone can relate to the 'bartender as therapist' routine. I flipped on the stereo to a soft music station, little more than Muzak, but something to fill the background. I walked back to the living room and said, "Well, there's no easy way to approach this. I mean wife-sharing isn't your average topic of conversation." Tom looked a bit uncomfortable, and 'Nissa was still absorbed with the cityscape before her, but her arms were folded in front of her. She was listening, but was defensive.

I walked to where she was standing "I know what you're thinking. You took vows when you were married to be only with each other. Only each other, until death do you part. But now, Tom's telling you its ok to change the rules." She lowered her eyes, a hint of blush touching her cheeks at my words. "Hey," I said. She took a second, but finally looked at me. "It 's ok. The only rules we have in life are ones that pertain to our happiness. You being happy and Tom being happy are what count. Not how happy your kids are, not what your neighbors are doing or thinking. Those do make a difference. But, when all is said and done, you and he will be spending the rest of your lives together. Knowing you've lived everything you wanted to live in your life makes the biggest difference when you're old and all you have are memories and each other." She'd turned to face me as I was talking to her, so I put my hand on her shoulder and turned her toward the couch. She moved to it and sat down.

As she settled in, I told them my story. Went over all the events that Andy and me went through, all the way until today. Or, at least to the point it made sense to talk about. While I was talking, I noticed 'Nissa sat close to Tom, but not THAT close. And Tom wasn't much better. He was looking around the room, but I could tell he was just plain nervous. Both were in 'company posture', not comfortable posture. I took a very obvious drink of my coke, reminding both of them that they had beverages, then changed the conversation a bit to ease them back into the flow. About twenty minutes later, I'd learned that Tom was in the furniture business, but as a maker of furniture, not in sales. 'Nissa had spent a lot of years at home raising the kids, doing the housework, etc., but had started back to work as a part-time secretary for an auto detailing business when the kids had started high school and were getting old enough to take some responsibility for themselves. Work and home life had been pretty much normal until just recently.

"What happened to change that?" I asked. 'Nissa looked at Tom nervously and took a long pull at her drink. "Um," she murmured, not really knowing how to say what was on her mind. Finally, she blurted, "My boss made a pass at me one day. He'd been flirting with me off and on the whole time I'd been working there, but he caught me in the storeroom off guard one day and…" She trailed off, the flush on her face plainly showing her embarrassment at sharing something so personal with someone she barely knew.

"And he went a bit farther than you wanted him to," I finished for her. She nodded, a little relieved not to have revealed the details. "So, did she tell you?" I asked, turning to Tom.

He nodded saying, "When she came home, she was a wreck. He'd pinned her in a corner and felt her up some and kissed her. At first, I was angry."

"Wait a sec, Tom. I want to hear that, but first, 'Nissa?" She looked at me. "How did you feel about him touching you? About him kissing you?"

Blushing furiously, she stammered a bit trying to come up with something to say and I stopped her. "Shh-h-h." She stopped. "Look at me." she looked up and met my eyes. "If this is to work, you have to be ~honest~ about your feelings. Completely. We're all adults here. We know there are some difficult things to talk about, so just lay the cards on the table." Biting her lower lip, she looked down, but nodded.

"Ok, look at me again," I said, meeting her eyes as she looked back up. "How did he make you feel?"

Sucking in a long breath, she finally whispered, almost inaudibly, "Hot."

"Hot?" I asked. She nodded. "Hot. Melting. His hands were fire on my skin and his lips were like lava on mine." I could see in her eyes she was reliving the experience in her mind.

I looked back to Tom. "Now. You were saying something about….."

"About being angry at first," he continued, "but, as she was telling me about Hank touching her breasts, about him running his hand between her legs and about him kissing her, the harder I got."

"As in an erection?" I prompted. He nodded, "I'd heard about how some guys really got off on watching their wives have sex with other men, but I'd never though I would be one of those men until that moment." Picking up his glass, he drained about half of his drink. "Now, it's all I can think about. In my mind, I see her in that storeroom. I see Hank feeling her -- but my mind goes further…. "

"Have you told 'Nissa about where the fantasy takes you?" I asked.

"I've told her some of it," he replied.

I looked at the object of the fantasy. She was holding onto the empty glass for dear life, so I stood and took it from her. "What does he fantasize about? What has he told you?" I asked as I walked to the bar to make her another drink.

"He… he… um… told me that he fantasized about Hank lifting up my shirt. About how Hank runs his hands down my breasts and stomach and back up then unhooks my bra. Then, about Hank unsnapping my jeans and … feeling me…." Words made their way hesitantly out of her mouth, but they were still coming. Her voice quavered as she said "He fantasizes about Hank pulling my jeans off, and my panties, then kneeling on the floor and… Um… licking me…."

I handed her the freshened drink and reached for Tom's glass. "How does that make you feel?"

"Confused," she admitted. "I get wet thinking about it, but I know its wrong. I know it could cause problems at work and in our hometown if it were found out." Words weren't a problem now. She knew what she wanted to say. "Not only that, but it makes me feel dirty in a way, because its all about the ~sex~. Just the animal act of lust."

From behind the bar I said, "And you've been told all your life that lust and 'just sex' were bad things." She nodded at that statement.

I finished making his drink and got another coke from the bar fridge. I walked back to where they were sitting and handed Tom the gin and tonic. I caught her eye and asked, "Do you love Tom?"

She was puzzled for a second, then nodded assent. "I mean, REALLY love Tom? Not just 'He's a good man and a good provider' kind of love, but the kind where you can't wait for him to get home just so you can be near him?" She nodded again, tears starting to form at the corners of her eyes.

"Tom," I asked, "do you love her that way?" He said, eyes shining brightly, "Yes! Definitely. I've turned away work and made clients mad because I just wanted to be home with her. She's my life and my love. Without her, nothing means anything."

(Let it be said that men ARE more emotional than women. We just hide our feelings under macho bluster and braggadocio. Once you get to our core, all men just want love and acceptance from our mates. We want the ladies to want us just as badly as we want them.)

I sat back down and took time pouring my coke to let that sink in. Heavy emotion is best taken in small doses, lest one or more of the people involved become crushed by its weight. And, I knew there was more heavy emotion to come.

"Ok. So we know that you two love each other and that it's a healthy love," I said. They looked at each other and I could see them exchange glances and little smiles. Unbeknownst to them, they both moved toward each other on the couch, becoming closer physically, so instead of each being almost at either end of the couch, they were almost at the middle. Closer, but not touching yet.

I smiled to myself seeing them unconsciously coming together. It was a good sign that things were working. "What you have to realize now is that your relationship is strong. Tom, you have to realize that you are 'Nissa's most important person, and 'Nissa, you have to realize that you are Tom's. I've not known you long, but from the actions you showed at dinner, the words you've spoken here tonight, it is obvious to me that this is true."

I leaned forward, making sure I had their full attention. "What you have to know is that it IS true in your hearts." I saw Tom reach over and take 'Nissa's hand and was glad to see her squeeze his in return. "You have to know that instinctively. Know it just like you know how to breathe. Just like your heart knows how to beat. Know that its automatic and that it won't change."

I settled back in my chair for a moment to let those thoughts sink in a little. Then I stood up. "Now, it's getting late. I know 10:30 isn't THAT late, but we've been over a lot of stuff the last couple hours. What I want you to do is go to your room and spend the time from now until you go to sleep talking about how you feel about each other. Don't talk about Hank or money or even turn on the TV. Just talk. Touch. Cuddle. Wherever that takes you. Revel in each other and the love you share. That's important. That is a gift."

They stood, still hand in hand, both a bit bright-eyed with the rediscovery of the power of their own love. I escorted them to the door, and just as they stepped outside the suite, 'Nissa leaned back in and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, the scent of her perfume just enough to remind me of other times and other places. I smiled and rubbed her shoulder, then said, "Now go. Enjoy the love, enjoy each other and sleep well. Call me when you are up and about tomorrow. We've got a lot to do." I watched as they walked to the elevator, arms around each other. As in love now as they were when they were first married. --------------------------------------------------

Build on the Lessons

Holding Denissa close while waiting for the elevator, Tom realized just how true his words had been. He was a lucky, lucky man to have found and married a woman like her. When the elevator doors opened, they walked in and Tom pressed the button for the second floor. Denissa turned into his arms and hugged him close.

He leaned his head forward and kissed the top of her head, enjoying the clean smell of her hair and the slight musk of her perfume. He felt the muscles of her jaw tighten as she smiled into his chest. Just holding her close like this was a treat. One he enjoyed every day when he got home and was the main reason he hated to be late for any reason.