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A Condolence Call

By: Jimmela



I really knew Morty Abel for just a short time. He joined a running group that I coached. I am a corporate trainer and as a result spend an inordinate amount of time traveling. So, I run where I can and coach for a local running store on weekends.

Morty showed up one day in an old sweat shirt, baggy sweat pants and "sneakers". He said he wanted to learn how to run to lose weight and "get in shape". He needed it. He was in his mid-fifties, maybe five foot nine and way overweight. 

"Morty," I said, with my arm around his shoulder, "I do not want you to die on the roads. At least not on my watch. So, here are some of the things that have to happen if you are serious about this."

I explained to him that he should get a complete physical first. I told him he had to make the investment in running shoes - good ones. I gave him a diet that was right from Runner's World Magazine. I gave him some tips on cross training, like swimming, stretching and weights.

Morty came back the next Sunday with some bright red running Asics running shoes. He assured me his doctor had given him clearance - kind of. I found out Morty was an accountant and married to a high powered defense attorney about whom I had heard. He took the training regime seriously and orderly. Like I said, Morty was an accountant, so, orderliness was in his DNA. 

After about four weeks on the roads, Morty was looking better. He liked his red Asics shoes, he began wearing a tighter long sleeved shirt that still showed some progress needed on his abdomen. He had finally moved to running shorts. One Sunday, after our weekly group run, he came up to me.

"Harris?" Morty had a way of looking down as he talked instead of keeping eye contact. Had he been a client of mine, I would have cured him of that in ten minutes.

"Morty," I replied. "Good run today, man. You are really getting into it."

"Um, thanks, Harris. My wife Grace and I are having a few folks over for barbeque next Friday night and, well, I'd love for you to meet her. Could you and your wife maybe come?"

"Morty, I'd love to. But Adrian is overseas for her company. Matter of fact she accepted a post in London for the next year."

Morty's eyes were still on his red shoes. "Wow, Harris, that's tough."

"Well yeah, but Adrian Jacobs is a high powered talented executive and she is on the fast track. Anyway, I'll make it if I can, okay?"

Morty broke into that crinkly smile of his. "Great. I'll e-mail you directions."

So, the following Friday evening I had a goodnight call with Adrian in London, saying all is going great and yeah, we miss each other. Adrian and I had been trying to bring some of the magic back. It didn't seem to be working too well, especially since the two girls left for college. Maybe it was never there in the first place. 

Anyway, about two months ago we took a long walk on one of the Florida beaches within an hour of home and talked. "Maybe we should take a sabbatical," Adrian suggested, and told me about the opportunity in London. "Six months? You think we should?" She asked.

But I know her. Her mind was made up. Well, turned out it was a year, not six months, but a deal is a deal so there she is and here I am. I won't say she's not coming back and neither will she, but we'll see.

I hung up and headed to Morty and Grace's. The Abel home was on almost a half-acre of ground on a large lake. In front of the house was a long drive bordered by pines and palm trees. There was subtle lighting on the ground pointed at the trees that gave a very quiet dignity to the entrance. The doors were wide open to the front. I heard the murmur of conversation and occasional laughter as I parked the car and walked into a stunning front hall with a black and white square marble tile floor.

You looked right through a large living room to a huge patio around an hourglass shaped swimming pool. I had no idea how well Morty did in his accounting practice, but I did know that Grace Abel was a shining star in the firmament of defense lawyers in our town.

I walked towards the noise and out to the pool. There were about a half dozen people gathered around the bar where a bartender in a white jacket was serving drinks. I saw two large smokers in the backyard behind the pool where two more white jacketed guys were watching what looked like large briskets cooking.

When I got through the doors to the pool, Morty dislodged himself from another small group and came forward to shake my hand. "Harris, I am so glad you could make it. Come, I want you to meet Grace. I think you know some of these folks."

Well, mostly I didn't. But like I said, I travel a lot. Morty had me by the elbow and steered me half way around the pool. There, sitting comfortably in a chair at a patio table, was a rather tall, blonde, somewhat overweight woman with a gorgeous face and sparkling blue eyes. She was wearing a long sleeved white blouse up to her neck, white slacks and a blue scarf thrown carelessly around her neck.

Coach that I am, both in business and on the roads, I immediately thought, give me six months with that woman and she is Vanity Fair material. I knew it was Grace Abel from various TV interviews and numerous newspaper interviews.

"Grace," Morty said loudly. Here's my coach, Harris Jacobs. I don't think you guys ever met."

 

Grace Abel turned those large blue eyes on me. I was wearing a short sleeved button down light blue sport shirt and a blue blazer with white slacks. We matched. "Nice to meet you Grace. Morty has told me a lot about you, more than I learned from sound bites." She gave me a really cool stare.

She reached out one long nailed hand and I shook it. She had a firm grip. "Yes, Harris. I understand you are the man who is saving my husband's life."

I continued to hold her hand. "Well, really all I'm doing is giving him a regimen that might help him live a happier, healthier life."

She gently pulled her hand away. "Well, Harris, whatever it is, I thank you. Morty is actually looking much better. Final word will come at the end of the month when he sees his cardiologist."

I looked over at Morty. "Everything okay? Morty, you have to let me know these things."

Morty shrugged. He looked at his shoes. "No big deal. Grace wants me to have a checkup. She says I snore too much."

Well, that stopped the conversation. I moved on to a couple I had met before and was able to strike up some other conversations while nursing a single white wine. Finally, Grace called out. I looked over and she was standing in the back yard by the smokers.

"Folks, dinner is served. If you will grab a plate and some silverware down here and move through a line, then just find a seat at one of the tables. Waiters will be by to serve some drinks and give you refills."

I moved through the line, had a couple of large slabs of brisket put on my plate, took some vegetables and a little salad and looked for a place to sit. I saw Morty waving at me from the table where I met Grace. She was beside him. 

"Sit, Harris. Grace? Harris' wife works for Donnelly Sparks - the multi-national plastics outfit? Harris tells me she is on a one year assignment in London. That's how come he's alone, right Harris?"

I nodded. Grace gave me a long look. "So, you are like a bachelor for a year, Mr. Jacobs?"

"Well, yeah. But please call me Harris. I travel a lot myself, so this is just a larger extension of the same."

"Well, that is a shame. Will you get a chance to visit?"

"Probably. We'll have to see what works out."

The conversation drifted to some local politics and the usual arguments between Florida State and Florida alums. I graduated from Williams College in Williamstown Massachusetts, so I did not have a dog in that fight. Apparantley neither did Grace. She was sitting next to me. She put a cool hand on top of mine.

"Not a big fan, Harris?"

"Well, no, not in this league. I'm out of my depth here."

"Me too. I'm University of Pennsylvania law, myself."

"Williams College."

"Another Yankee transplant." She gave me a dazzling smile.

The conversation got back to water shortages and property taxes and folks drifted away. I had some reports to get out this weekend and of course, the group run on Sunday, so I said goodbye, thanked Grace and Morty and headed for home.

Sunday's run was in beautiful seventy two degree weather with fairly low humidity. When I'm coaching, I run like someone herding cats, trying to keep the group together, encouraging stragglers, trying to get everyone to finish within the time goal we have set. The group is pretty well matched, about sixty percent male, forty percent female. As we neared the finish, I trotted alongside till everyone had passed. I found Morty at the end of the line, puffing and not looking well.

"Everything okay, Morty?"

"Tough Harris. Got this stich in my side. Must have eaten something wrong, feels like a steel band around my chest."

"Not good, dude," I replied. "When are you supposed to see your cardiologist?"

"Grace made an appointment for tomorrow. Sounds like a good idea, huh?"

"Damn straight. Call me and tell me the skinny."

Monday we had a video conference with my team and a client in Ohio. It took most of the morning. I had my usual staff meeting in the afternoon. There's only five of us. Two to man the office and three road warriors, including me who as I say, along with being the CEO, I travel.

I got home about five. There was a voice mail from Morty and one from Adrian. Adrian just said all was going well, she had found an apartment that was cute and convenient and that I should plan to be there for Christmas. 

Morty's was not so good. He said that he had to go back to the cardiologist and take a stress test. Well, I know a lot of people who have gone through that. Usually it just means a change in routine. I thought I should move Morty to a slower running group and let him come along slowly.

Tuesday morning I was on the road again. This time for a couple of weeks. First Charlotte for a day, Atlanta for two, then on to Cleveland, Chicago, St. Louis and then to the Coast for a national conference the next weekend. It was a grind, but business is business.

By Sunday I was in Chicago for a two day meeting on Monday and Tuesday. I checked in to the hotel and there was a voice mail from Phil Taglione, one of the guys in the same running group as Morty. Probably wanted to know when I would be back coaching. I would, in a week.

"Phil? Harris Jacobs. What's going on?" 

"Bad news, Harris. Morty Abel died on Wednesday. I just found out."

I sat down hard on the bed. "Died? Oh my God. When? How?"

"Seems the cardiologist decided he needed a stent operation and quickly. He went in for the operation on Friday and died on the table. You know Harris, he looked like crap the past couple of weeks."

I replied slowly. "Right, Phil, he did at that." 

"Yeah, well, funeral is Tuesday. Can you make it?"

"Shit, Phil. I'm in Chicago and have to go on to St. Louis and then to LA for the weekend. Don't get home until Monday afternoon."

"Oh. Well, sorry to fuck up your Sunday."

 

I hung up and sat there numb for a full five minutes. My fault? Could it have been my fault? Did I push Morty Abel too hard? Should I have seen symptoms before that last Sunday? Truthfully, I think I did all I could with the information I had. But that did not prevent the guilt trip from starting. If only I had...what? He seemed fine when he stopped running and he did go to his doctor right? Still...

I went down to the bar. I ordered a Bushmill straight up. I called Phil Taglione back.

"Phil? I guess the Abels are taking visitors?"

"Georgia and I are going over tonight."

"Thanks Phil. Are people sending flowers or is it a donation thing?"

"I think it's donations to the American Heart Association. "

I hung up again. Morty Abel was a nice guy. Maybe not the greatest personality, but pleasant. And conciensious. I mean he worked hard at trying to train. I really didn't understand the relationship with a power house like Grace Abel, but that was none of my business, really. Well, I thought, that's life. No, it didn't always make sense. I sat for a few minutes more trying to think about what I should do next. I looked at my watch. A little after six. That was past midnight in London. Hell, I had to talk to Adrian.

"Adrian? Did I wake you?"

"No Harris, just getting into bed. The apartment needs some more work, but...everything all right?"

"Girls are fine, Adrian. Look, there's a guy I was coaching in one of my running groups. Guy named Morty Jacobs."

"You mentioned him. You went to dinner at his home, right? He's married to that lawyer?"

"Well, yeah - Adrian, Morty died this past week on the operating table, getting a stent. I feel guilty as hell."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're always taking responsibility for things that you can't control. Get over it, Harris!"

Typical Adrian. "Well, okay. But I mean, should I call? Funeral is Tuesday but I won't be home until next Monday. Look Adrian, my fault or not, I feel like shit."

Her voice softened. "Harris, call. See if she is still having guests when you get home. If she is, go over. You want one of your running buddies to go with you, call one up."

"No, if I go I'll go alone. Right, Adrian, I'll call. Thanks for the advice."

"Any time, sport. Anything else?"

"No, that was it."

"Good. I'm off to bed. I am literally falling off my feet. Good luck." 

•******

I took a plane home right after the LA weekend conference. With the three hour time difference I got home about ten o'clock on Sunday night. Too late to call, I figured.

Ten o'clock the next morning, I called Morty's house. A female voice answered. It did not sound like Grace. "Abel residence."

"Hi. This is Harris Jacobs. Is the family still taking visitors?"

"Oh, hi Mr. Jacobs. Sally Copening. Met you at the Abel's dinner party. Yes, mostly family now, but please come over this evening. I'm flying back to Atlanta later, but there will be people around. Can you come over?'

"Seven o'clock all right?"

"That'll be fine. I'll be here until about eight. It will be nice to see you again, despite the circumstances.

I got home about six, skipped my run again. I put on a white shirt, no tie, some light blue slacks and my trusty blue blazer. Luckily they were in the closet. Everything I took on the road was at the cleaners or in the wash. I had left the Prius in the driveway. Adrian's Jaguar was in the garage. For a year, I guess.

I pulled up to the Abel house just as it was getting dark. The driveway lights were on. There were about a half dozen cars parked up and down the driveway. I parked about halfway around the circle and walked to the front door. I rang the bell. About a minute later a nice looking lady with prematurely white hair that looked like it had been done on purpose in a beauty parlor came to the door. She was taller than me, dressed in a multi-colored blouse that showed an incredible pair of breasts and a slim waist above a pair of white slacks.

"Hi. I'm Harris Jacobs. Friend of Morty's."

She gave me a dazzling smile. "Of course." She held out a long fingered hand. "Amanda Reese. I'm Morty's cousin from Atlanta. We talked on the phone earlier."

"Of course, Amanda. Sorry for your loss."

"Thanks, Harris. C'mon in."

Everyone was in the living room. I spotted Grace sitting in a large wing chair by the fireplace. I went over. She was wearing a simple sleeveless black dress with a single row of pearls around her neck. She had gold slippers on her feet.

As soon as she saw me she broke into a half smile and beckoned me over. She reached out a hand to me and I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "So sorry Grace. Morty was a wonderful person."

She kept holding my hand as I stood up. "He thought the world of you, Harris. You really had an impact on his life."

"Well, thank you Grace. I hope it was positive for him. I know it was for me."

"It was, Harris. It was." She was lasered in on me with those startling blue eyes. "Don't leave for a while, okay?"

"Sure, I mean fine. I'll be right here."

She smiled a brief smile. There was a tall white haired man sitting beside her in a straight chair. "Harris, this is Trent Williams, Morty's partner." I recognized him from the party. Jesus, was that just two weeks ago?

We shook hands. His eyes were red and he had bags under them. "I heard Morty speak of you, Harris."

"Sorry for your loss."

"Yes. A shock. A shock."

There were people from her law firm of Abel, Reilly, Madison and James there and a couple of other people who introduced themselves. Mostly from Morty's family. Didn't see anybody from Grace's side. They must have left for back north by now.

Like I said, Grace's firm was a really high powered outfit. They defended murderers, white collar criminals and even some nasty divorce cases. I introduced myself to a couple of people from Morty's accounting firm. None of them seemed to know who I was, but I smiled and went into the dining room

There was food laid out on the dining room table, mostly fruit and some cookies. There was coke and ginger ale and a bottle of red wine and one of white. Eventually, the crowd thinned out. Finally there was Grace, still seated in the wing chair, Trent Williams and his wife, a short thin woman who sat holding Grace's hand in another straight chair next to her on the other side from her husband, and me.

Trent stood up, and Grace followed. He hugged her tightly. He let go and his wife did the same. I walked over to say my goodbye. Grace motioned for me to sit in the chair that Trent Williams had just vacated.

Now it was Grace, me and some clinking glasses in the kitchen. She squeezed my hand and said quietly, "stay here a minute, will you Harris?" She got up without waiting for an answer and went into the kitchen. I heard the murmuring of some voices and then she was back.

She sat down heavily in the wing chair. "God, Harris. I have not been out of this house since the funeral. Is it really Monday already?"

"Yes, Grace. Monday. How are you holding up?"

Grace nodded slowly. "I've had better weeks, Harris." She stopped to dab at her eyes. "What time is it?"

I looked at my watch. "It's just short of eight o'clock." 

"Eight o'clock. I haven't eaten since this morning."

"Grace, if this sounds dumb, just tell me. But would you like to go out to dinner?"

She gave me a small smile. "Harris. That is so sweet. The truth is I would love to get out of here for an hour or so. Give me a minute." She stood up and so did I. She was just my height in her gold slippers. She was, as I had seen last week, a voluptuous woman who carried her weight very well. 

She squeezed my hand and headed for the front hall. I watched her climb the stairs. Her stride up the steps was strong. She was downstairs ten minutes later. She had kept the black dress, but added a long white scarf thrown carelessly around her neck, and some low heels. Now, she was taller than I. She also had added some subtle makeup and a dark red lipstick.

I stood staring for a bit longer than I should have, but I was realizing what a woman this was. "Anything in particular for dinner you care for" I asked without taking my eyes off hers.

"Something substantial. I've just been picking since Morty...well..." I saw her eyes begin to brim over.

I took her arm and said "Well, Grace, that sounds like steak and a good Shiraz. Does that work for you?"

For the first time since the night I met her, a real smile radiated her face. "Perfect."

o*****

I drove downtown to an open grill steakhouse that served only open range beef and had a great wine list. I knew George the manager. He was by the front desk as we walked in. He recognized Grace right away. 


A Condolence Call



"Grace. Been a long time. I heard about Morty. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Grace nodded. George turned to me. "Harris. Dinner?"

"Yes, George, please. And a quiet corner if possible." I turned to Grace. "I figure you can do without strangers coming over."

She squeezed my hand. "Yes. That would be nice."

George led us to a table for two by the windows that looked out on a small lake across the street. Grace sat down, looked around and sighed.

"You sure you're okay with this?" I asked, leaning across the table.

She shook her head and smiled. "Yes. Yes. Definitely Harris. Life goes on. Your wife? She is in London for a year, right?"

"Yes, right."

"As I remember, Morty said she works for Donnelly Sparks. "

"Right again, Grace. Good memory. She is on what you would call the fast track, so it's a year overseas."

"Oh. Do you get to go over or can she take some time back here?"

"Well, I'm making plans to be there for Christmas. I don't think our two daughters can make it, but we'll see."

Grace picked up the menu and I picked up the wine list. The waiter came over and I ordered a bottle of a Napa Valley brand I liked. Grace looked over the menu and then put it down. 

"You know, Harris, Morty and I had a wonderful marriage."

"It looked that way from everything he said."

The waiter was back with the wine. He uncorked it and offered me the cork. I'm not a wine expert by any means, but I smelled it anyway. Smelled nice. He poured for each of us and Grace raised her glass. "To the future, Harris. To looking ahead."

I clinked my glass with hers and took a generous sip. She did the same and stared into her glass. "I come from a small town in New Jersey," she said softly. "My dad was an engineer, my mom a school teacher. Dad died when I was fourteen and my mother really never got over it. We had enough to get by, but I had to take a job after school. I got lucky because of a friend of my dad's. I worked as a clerk in a law office. Mostly filing.

"Then, when I got a scholarship to Penn, my mom insisted I devote all my time to studies. So I did, worked in the summer at the same law office. Went to law school there, got a real job with the same firm."

She sighed and polished off the last of her glass of wine. I refilled her glass and my own. "So," I asked, "what brought you here?"

"Well, I met Morty. He was with a large accounting firm that worked with the firm where I was. He had a good friend down here who wanted to start his own firm with Morty as a partner. Harris, we could not have children and frankly, I didn't want or need kids. I have always been just, well, driven."

She looked over at me and sighed again. "I try not to come off as cold or not caring. I'm really not that way."

I reached over and put my hand around the one of hers holding the wine glass. "From what Morty told me about you and what I've seen myself, Grace, you are one helluva woman. Period."

She smiled again and said "I'm starved. Let's order."

We ordered steaks and potatoes and a salad and some braised onions. She talked of her firm and what is was like to handle actual, real killers and white collar criminals.

She remarked that "You know, if a man holds up a 7/11 to feed his family, that is not right, but I understand. It's those others, really smart people who try to beat the system. I mean, we defend them, but Harris, if they put half that effort into doing things right? They would make more money in half the time." 

This was a woman with a real sense of self. She carried her weight well, had an aura about her of power and self-confidence. I decided she did not need my training or Vanity Fair. I also decided I was a real asshole for judging her.

The Shiraz disappeared over the course of dinner. I insisted we share a Terimisou and a brandy after dinner. She probed me on what my firm did and why I was such an avid runner. Then she looked at me with those blue eyes.

"Harris, thank you. I didn't believe that I could be relaxed so soon after Morty died. But this is just what I needed."

"Grace, it was my pleasure. I felt so bad about missing the funeral. You know, I really liked Morty a lot."

She stared into her coffee cup. "And he thought the world of you." She looked up at me. "He said you made him feel more like a man."

I didn't know how to process that. The waiter brought the bill and Grace reached for it.

"Not on your life, lady. This was my idea and I am so happy it was good for you." I gave the waiter my credit card and looked back at her. "It was, wasn't it? I mean, good?"

Her eyes were shining and a bit damp. "You have no idea, Harris. No idea."

She was fairly quiet on the drive back to her house. When I pulled up in the drive she put her hand on my leg. "Would you come in for a bit, Harris, I'd really appreciate it."

"No problem , Grace. Of course." I got out of the car, went to her side and opened her door. I reached down and took her hand. She grabbed it tightly and stepped out of the car. We were standing really close and whatever perfume she was wearing came through as pure musk,

We walked together to the front door. She pulled out her keys and opened it and I followed her in. She turned on the light in the front hall. "Can I make you a cup of coffee?"

"Well..."

"Please, Harris. It's the first night since Morty died that I'm alone."

"Of course, Grace. Like I said, no problem."

She led me into the living room and turned on a lamp by the couch. "I'll just be a minute," she said in almost a whisper and went to the kitchen. 

I heard some clinking of cups and water being poured. I walked towards the noise and into the kitchen. It was done in blue tile and stainless steel appliances. She was at the counter putting coffee in the coffee maker. She had taken off the high heels and was barefoot so we were once again the same height.

There was a little breakfast nook in the large kitchen. It faced a large bay window that looked out at the pool, which was lit from underwater. I sat in one of the comfortable chairs at the table. Grace came over and sat across from me.

She leaned both elbows on the table and leaned forward. The dress gapped a little and the cleavage was impressive. "So, Harris. How are you really handling this separation?"

I stared at the ceiling. I didn't really want to look into those laser like blue eyes and I sure did not want to get caught staring at her cleavage. "So far? Not too bad. Like I told you at dinner, both the girls are married now. A little too early we both think, but the guys are nice and on their way to success, so there isn't much responsibility."

"Does it get lonely?"

"Now and again. It is no fun coming home to an empty house...oh God, I'm sorry Grace - that was thoughtless of me."

She reached over and grabbed both my hands. "Not at all. I know what you mean, already. That's why I didn't want to walk in alone tonight."

The coffee maker beeped and she got up and poured two large cups. "You want anything with this, Harris?"

"No, I'm good."

She stood silently by the coffee maker, staring into the two steaming cups. "Harris? Can I ask you a really personal question?"

I figured, what the hell. "Of course."

She turned to face me. "This separation from your wife...is it say, celibate?"

I stared back at her and blinked. I felt kind of like I was being cross-examined. "Well, Grace, to tell you the truth it's a little early to tell. But, if I may, counselor, why the question?"

She looked down, smiled a small smile, picked up the two coffee cups and came back to the table. "Damn. I do sound lawyerly from time to time, don't I?"

"Well, yeah. But again, why the question?"

She sat and stared into her cup. "Look Harris. You are a vibrant, successful man. Morty and I had a sweet marriage, but I have to say, there was very little exciting about it. What you saw with him is what you got. He was introverted, had to force himself to be social." She looked straight at me again. "Our sex life was frankly, never very satisfying. Morty, well, Morty was not very inventive or let me say, involved."

 

Strange word, I thought. "Involved"? Well, I was here in her kitchen. Along with the brandy, the wine had not been totally absorbed, so I guess we were both feeling a bit loose. 

I picked up my coffee mug and took a large mouthful. "Grace, Adrian and I were married right out of college. I certainly was not a virgin and frankly, neither was she. We had - have - a fairly standard relationship. We make love regularly. We don't do much out of the ordinary, as it were. And so far as this separation, if you want to call it that, is concerned, well, frankly neither of us has put down any rules."

She was looking right at me, but much more softly. "Thank you Harris." 

She stood and before I could make a move, she came to my side of the table, took my chin in her hand and kissed me. A full, warm kiss, on the lips that we held for a full twenty seconds. She backed off, stroked my cheek.

"My room is directly across from the stairs." She turned and walked out of the room, her heels in her hands.

Okay, Harris Jacobs, what now? Do I tiptoe out of here and go home? Do I follow her? I knew two things for sure. Here was one of the most fascinating, powerful women I had ever met outside of Adrian. The other thing was, that kiss had given me an erection - practically the first erection since Adrian left.

I stood up, took a deep breath and walked into the front hall. I looked up the stairs. There was a light coming from the room across from the stairs. I looked at the front door, then back at the light coming from the open door.

 

I went up the carpet covered stairs quietly. I stopped just outside the open door. "Grace?"

Her voice, quiet, but still with that ring of control and power answered. "The door is open."

I walked in. She was sitting on the side of the bed. The bed was a huge four poster, probably double king sized. The beige coverlet was untouched. She was wearing a dark blue bathrobe, cinched at the belt, her hands in her lap.

She looked over at me with that soft smile again. "Thank you, Harris, for not just walking out." With that she stood and let the belt open. The robe fell away and she was naked in front of me.

Her shoulders were square, her body voluptuous. She looked like a Botticelli painting. Her arms were at her sides, her stomach was heaving slightly. There was a patch of pubic hair visible between rather thick, powerful legs. Her breasts were large, with very large areolas and large upright nipples.

"Not your model type, am I?" Her voice was soft, almost girl like.

"No. Not a model type at all. A real woman is what I see." She started towards me and I took a step to meet her.

She was exactly my height. She melded into me, thrusting her pelvis at me and clutching my shoulders. I had discarded my blazer in the car. She began to unbutton my shirt. I slipped it off and she came close to me again. I felt the warmth of those incredible breasts, her stomach pulsating against my belt.

I pushed her back just a little, undid the belt and let my slacks slip to the floor. I stepped out of them and took her in my arms again. We kissed not with warmth this time, but with passion. Our tongues found each other and she held me as tight against her entire body as possible. 

 

I backed off just a bit and looked in her face. It had such a soft glowing look that I hardly recognized the strong, willful woman that I had come to know over these past few meetings. She looked me directly in the eyes and I felt one hand slip down to my Jockeys and begin to stroke my half hard penis.

I leaned down and took one large breast in my left hand. I kissed the nipple and then began to encircle it with my tongue. I felt her hand tighten around my penis through the Jockeys. It got very hard and very upright. She raised my head and looked in my eyes. Without taking her eyes off mine, she reached down and pulled my Jockeys down.

She put her large right hand around my now completely upright penis and held it tightly. She still had her eyes on mine. They were half closed. "Harris?" She whispered. "May I?"

I wasn't sure what she meant, so I said nothing. She slipped to her knees and began to stroke me. I thought my knees were going to collapse. I felt her lips close over the tip of my penis. I felt her tongue begin to lick the tip. Then I felt her take almost all of me in her mouth. She had her hand around the base and was sucking now, faster and faster. I was afraid I was about to cum.

She pulled back and looked up at me. Then she stood, held me at arms-length and smiled. "No, Harris. Morty and I never did that. He would not hear of it."

I did not know what to say. "Grace, you are unbelievable. Bright beautiful and now, a talented lover as well?'

She smiled, took me by the hand and led me to the bed. "The internet, silly. The greatest educational tool of all times."

She stood at the head of the bed, her back to me. More and more I was appreciating the grace of Grace. She moved so fluidly, even naked. She reached up and pulled the coverlet completely down to the bottom of the bed. She slipped into bed under a light blue blanket. She sat up and cocked her head at me.

It was frankly, another moment of decision. But, having gone this far...I moved to the other side of the bed and went under the coverlet as well. She raised up on one elbow and gave me that direct look again.

"Harris, I was faithful to Morty Abel for the most part since we married right out of college. I did have one short, disastrous affair about five years into our marriage. Since then I have shared no bed with anyone except him. Frankly, I didn't think I would tonight, not so close to his death."

I was lying flat on my back. I turned my head and looked again into those deep blue eyes. "Grace, so far it's been almost like a couple of kids on a date. I can leave right now, if..."

Before I could finish the sentence, she rolled over on top of me and kissed me hard on the mouth and then on my forehead, my eyes and my chin. Then she lifted up. I could feel the soft pressure of her breasts on my chest.

"No Harris. I need you. I need you to make love to me. I need you to be with me and give me the release of whatever it is I've been feeling since before Morty got sick." She rolled back to her side of the bed, reached for the blanket and threw it back so that we were both exposed and naked.

She reached her arms out to me. I came to her and got up on my knees. I held her head in my hands and kissed her lightly all over her face. She lay perfectly still. I leaned down further and kissed her ears and her neck. Then I slid down and began to lick lightly but swiftly down her chest. I took each large breast in two hands, raised them up and licked them. 

I felt the nipples get harder. Her legs began to move and she was breathing hard. I let go of the breasts and lightly licked her stomach. When I got to her navel, I swirled my tongue in it and she began to moan quietly. I felt her ample stomach begin to tighten.

I lay down, stretched out next to her. Slowly my fingers began to stroke the pubic hair between her legs. She opened both legs and I saw her fingers grasp the sheet. I lifted up for just a moment and looked up at her.

Softly I said "what about this, Grace my beautiful one, did Morty ever give you this pleasure?"

I took my tongue and began to do butterfly kisses all around her vagina. I reached one finger down and touched the opening. She was wet. She began to squirm on the bed. I pulled her legs farther apart and began to lick the opening of her entire vulva. She lifted her knees up. I licked and sucked for a few seconds and then began to do the butterfly kisses on the inside as I reached my finger and found her clitoris. 

I heard her saying softly "please, Harris, please, love me."

I picked my head up and looked at her. "Grace right now you are the most beautiful, magnificent woman I have ever seen. I am overwhelmed with you. May I make love to you?"

She looked at me with damp eyes and nodded slowly. I sat back on my knees and looked at her one more time. Then, very slowly, I lifted up on my one elbow until I was directly above her. Then I took my now throbbing penis in my hand and slowly found her soaking opening. I slid in and heard an intake of breath from her.

I began to stroke slowly, putting a little more of my penis in her with each stroke. She began to respond, lifting her buttocks to match my stroking. Slowly I felt those large, strong legs tighten around me. She began to grunt "uh...uh...uh" through her teeth.

Her arms which had moved slowly to encircle my back, now tightened as her buttocks thrust up to meet my thrusting. I felt my penis begin to thicken and knew I was getting close. As if in answer I felt her tighten around me. I looked into her half closed eyes.

"Can you, Grace? Can you cum now?"

Her legs tightened around me even more. She clasped my lower back. Her eyes opened wide. "Now! Harris, Now!"

I made one final thrust and felt my penis release in waves. She shuddered under me and then began a wild thrusting and lifting and crying out in short bursts "Oooo oooo".

 

Finally, we both slowly came to a stop. My half flaccid penis was still in her and I could feel a pulse from deep within her vulva beating against it. She held me with both arms clasped tightly around my back. She was heaving as if she had just run a hard ten kilometer race.

She slowly released her arms and her legs fell to each side. I rose up on my arms and pulled out of her. I rolled to the other side of the huge bed and lay there, slowly recovering my breath. She reached one hand over and grabbed mine. She squeezed it and then let go. She sat up, took the sheet to cover her face and began to sob.

"Grace, what is it?" I sat up and looked over at her.

She dropped the sheet down and used it to wipe her eyes. She was trying to breathe naturally. She stared dead ahead. "I, I have never climaxed like that. I have never felt like this. I feel totally alive and" she turned to face me. "And I feel really guilty."

"Guilty? Oh God, Grace, that is last thing I want to hear. What the hell do you feel guilty about?"

She stared straight ahead again. "Guilty that it was so fabulous having you inside me. Guilty that when your tongue was stroking me I was in such ecstasy. Harris I buried my husband a little over a week ago. And, yes, you are married."

I thought for a long minute. "Yes Grace, both those things are true. But it is Morty who is dead and you are alive. From what I just experienced, incredibly alive. And yes, I am married. But if one year three thousand miles away from me with no guaranteed return is not a separation, please tell me what is?"

She looked back at me, that quiet smile playing around her lips. "It was really good, wasn't it?"

I reached over and began stroking that strong back. "It was beyond good. It was fabulous and incredible. Grace, you are more woman than I think I have ever encountered."

She lay down next to me. "Hold me, Harris."

I took her in my arms and laid her head on my shoulder. I continued to stroke her back with my other hand. One of hers was behind the pillow on which I was lying. She twirled the hair on my chest with her other hand. We both were quiet.

Then slowly, her hand moved from my chest to my stomach and she began to stroke it with her long fingernails. Her hand moved down and curled my pubic hair. Then she took my half hard penis and began to stroke it slowly. I felt myself getting hard again. 

She raised up without letting go and threw the sheet with which we had covered ourselves back. She bent over and seemed to be watching my penis slowly stiffen under her hand. Then she bent closer and without stopping the gentle stroking, she lightly kissed the tip.




A Condolence Call



She moved her hand down the shaft to the base of my penis and lifted it. Her mouth came down and encircled the whole top. Then she began a slow sucking motion, that blonde head of hers moving up and down.

I continued to stroke her back, just enjoying this incredibly erotic sensation of feeling her lips and her tongue on my penis. She began to increase the pace and held the base even tighter. Suddenly she pulled back, sat all the way up and turned to me.  

"Harris, this is the most incredible turn on. I never dreamed..." With that she turned around so that she was sitting facing me between my legs. She moved forward, spread her legs, took my still stiff penis and slowly sat down on it. Her large hands moved to my shoulders and she began to rock back and forth, moving at the same time up and down. 

I thrust up to meet her and we began this sensual dance of thrusting by me and rising and coming down by her. It lasted a full five minutes until she began to breathe heavily. She leaned down and was totally on top of me, while moving her buttocks up and down. She grabbed me by the shoulders, leaned back again, shut her eyes and called aloud

"I'm cumming Harris - I'm cumming."

And she did. And so did I. We felt our juices mingling and the sweat now pouring from both of us. It was truly the most intense sexual feeling I had ever experienced. Finally, she collapsed against me, rolled off and lay there, breathing heavily.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes she was not in bed. I sat up in time to see her coming out of the bathroom. Her makeup was gone, her hair was wet and she had the blue bathrobe wrapped around her again.

She smiled a very tender smile at me. "Would you like to shower?"

I stood and picked up my Jockey shorts. "No, Grace. To tell the truth, I'd like the smell of you to stay on me as long as possible. I think I should be going. Must be late."

She looked at the clock radio by her side of the bed. "Yes, past midnight."

I dressed quickly and she went downstairs with me. By the front door I took her in my arms and kissed her long and tenderly. "Grace, I hope this is what you needed. For me it was an experience I will never forget."

She held me at arm's length. "For me too, Harris. Thank you for making me feel alive again. Thank you for being you and such a wonderful lover. I will always remember this night, but Harris?"

"Yes, Grace?"

"You know this can never happen again, don't you?"

"Well..."

"No Harris. Never. This evening was something I will always treasure. I will keep the memory in a little chamois bag in my mind to pull out from time to time when I need it. But any more between us is just too dangerous. For both of us."

I nodded, walked out the door and drove home. It was past two o'clock in the morning. Eight o'clock Tuesday morning in London. As soon as I got in the house I called Adrian.

"Adrian, It's me. I will be coming over for Christmas. We have a lot to talk about."

Epilogue 

I went to England for Christmas that year. It was wet, blustery and cold. But Adrian and I took a drive in the Audi four door leased for her into the countryside. We stayed at a little inn in a village right out of a Miss Marple TV episode.

We talked about everything we had been going through the past couple of years. We made love in front of a fireplace in our room. We ate atrocious food, drank decent wine and at the end of it all decided that yes, the twenty eight year investment of our marriage was worth saving.

It was a good five years later, after I had sold my business and opened a small running store in a growing suburb of our town. Adrian came into the store for our regular Friday lunch together. She had left her job, was doing some consulting, mostly on-line and enjoying life. We now had two grandbabies and went to visit as often as we could.

We sat down at the usual little deli where we were well known. We ordered and she said "We got invited to a political fundraiser tomorrow night."

"Oh God, Adrian. You know how I hate those things."

"Yeah, but this gal has some great ideas and I'd really like to see her in Washington. Besides, You know her."

"Really?"

"Yeah, her late husband was a runner in one of your groups. It's Grace Abel."

I managed to have no reaction. I just nodded slowly. "Okay, we'll go."

The fund raiser was at the Abel house. We got there as a number of other couples were going in the front door. When we stepped in, Grace was standing in the foyer. She still looked marvelous. She had lost some weight, but the radiant smile was still the same.

She came forward to greet us. Adrian shook hands and said "Mrs. Abel, I'm Adrian Jacobs. I'm a big fan of yours and I want to see you in Washington." She gestured at me as I came up to Grace, with whom I had no contact since that night.

"Grace, nice to see you. Good luck."

It was a flat statement. Grace took my hand and held it in both of hers. She turned to Adrian while holding my hands. "Adrian, thank you. And you too, Harris. Adrian, some years ago, in a very troubled time for me, your husband took me out to dinner on an evening that I really needed some companionship. I've never forgotten that. He is a good man."

She looked me in the eyes once more and let go of my hands. Adrian took my arm and we walked back towards the crowd around the pool. "Yes, my love," she said. You are a good man. And you are mine right?"

"Right."

There are really three places this story could end...pick your own