53 comments/  114628 views/  13 favorites

Ardmore

By: Salamis



There is virtually no sex in this story. Your comments, good or bad, are always welcome. 

Chapter 1: My Babe in the Woods 

It took perhaps a dozen rings for the noise to register. At that point, fingernails across a blackboard would have been more welcome. Moving towards the direction of the sound, my hand felt its way across the nightstand. Consciousness slowly reemerged as my eyes caught sight of the clock. It was 2am. The answering machine was off for I was determined to pickup only if the ringing continued. Then I remembered I was alone, and immediately my heartbeat quickened. 

For the second time that evening, I had been jarred from a sound sleep, the first awakening having occurred several hours earlier in response to a bad dream. I could blame that episode on exceptionally spicy chili. Now someone else was determined to reawaken me. I sighed knowing I was partially to blame for the incessant ringing. 

The answering machine was off because Allie was out for the evening and Drew had borrowed the car earlier. If either of the kids called I didn't want their message to go to the machine. Of course, Drew might be home by now; our son was a notorious sound sleeper and anything short of a bomb blast would go unnoticed by him. 

When you are the parent of two teens there is one call you dread ever getting. I was waking up to the growing apprehension that this might be the one. If it was, I didn't know how I would tell my wife Adrienne. She was away and I was entrusted with the children. I took a deep breath before hearing what I sensed would be bad news. 

A couple of days ago my wife had left for a 4-day social workers conference in Harrisburg. I offered the family car since it was only a two-hour drive but she chose instead to ride the train and take a cab to the hotel. All the sessions were scheduled on site and there was little use for a vehicle. This left the car free for the kids to use. I prayed that that one small decision had not led to a major problem.

Using the pillows as support, I snatched up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Martens? Mr. David Martens?" said a male voice.

"Yes, this is he. Who's calling?"

"Mr. Martens this is Lt. Havlechek of the Pennsylvania State Police. I'm calling about your wife Adrienne."

"Adrienne? What's wrong?" I steadied my voice. I was now fully awake and listening intently. 

"Sir, your wife was a victim of a shooting. She's been airlifted to St. Vincent's Hospital in Williamsport."

"Shooting? Oh my God…is she?"

"They're working on her now Mr. Martens, the doctors give her a good chance, that's all I know."

"How did this happen?"

"We're looking into that sir. So far, all we know is that at about 11pm your wife was spotted wandering near the West Rim Trail. She was lucky to come across several campers in the area experienced in treating her wounds. They got her to an emergency clinic in Ansonia. From there she was taken to the trauma center in Williamsport."

I was trying to follow him. What was he talking about? He said something about some West Rim Trail and Ansonia (which must be a town) and then Williamsport? Perhaps I had heard him wrong. So I had to ask, "Williamsport? Why there, weren't there any available hospitals in Harrisburg?"

"Williamsport was the closest trauma unit. We're not near Harrisburg. I know this isn't making all that much sense to you at this early hour. Let me give you my cell number. "

"I'm sorry Lieutenant, I've got to get our children together and then I'm coming up there." 

"Mr. Martens, let me have your cell number too. I'll let you know if there's any change in her condition."

When the call ended, I was sitting on the side of the bed in a daze. So many of my emotions were contending for dominance. Fear, anger and sorrow all made an appearance within seconds, and fear was winning. One thought kept being repeated, Adrienne had been shot. 

I had to get going. I'd been to Williamsport before. A few years back I took our son Drew and a couple of his best buddies to the Little League World Series there. I remembered the route; it was almost four hours away by car. If I left now I'd probably arrive shortly after seven. 

I walked down the hall to Drew's room and was relieved to find him asleep. He would want to come, so would Allie. With that, I went searching for my cell knowing my daughter's number was on speed dial. 

When I called her, I was immediately placed into voice-mail. I tried a couple of more times with the same result. She had turned her cell off again. Damn it! How many times had I told that girl to ALWAYS keep her phone on? Well, I would just have to leave her a message. With luck, she would get it before we left.

The next person to call was my brother Gary. I got him on the first ring, and was thankful that it had been him and not Giselle, his wife. She would have been overwhelming at that time of morning. As for Gary, he sounded worse than I did, but quickly became lucid when I explained the situation. He lived less than 5 minutes from us so we would pick him up on the way.

I then returned to Drew. I could not, would not, leave him alone. He was extremely close to his mom and unlike Allie, he was immediately available. Of course, I soon regretted my decision for when he awoke there ensued a barrage of questions, most of which I could not answer. 

I left him to get dressed, relieved to be removed for a moment. Drew had asked the questions I had not thought to ask of the Trooper. It dawned on me that I knew nothing of her injuries, save they were from a gun shot. Taking a deep breathe I forced those issues to the back of my mind. We needed to get to my wife and that task required all of my concentration.

While my son was getting his clothes together, I was left to do some last minute trip planning. I fired up our computer and connected to one of the map sites. The Lieutenant had mentioned Ansonia, Pennsylvania. I had never heard of it. When I checked, I learned that Ansonia was about two and a half hours away from Harrisburg by car, or a distance of 146 miles. 

Had Adrienne been kidnapped and taken to that location? She had been shot. Did she have other injuries? Would she ever be the same after this ordeal? Would she live? The questions burst forth even against my best attempts to suppress them. 

The Lieutenant also said she had a 'good chance'. He implied that her injuries were life threatening, and he was referring to gunshot wounds. Wounds? He had used the plural. That last acknowledgment almost brought on a bout of hyperventilation. I fell to my knees and said silent prayer and remained kneeling letting the minutes pass. 

I had to get a grip. I was beginning to lose it like Drew had done earlier. Besides I didn't know these things, what I knew was that Adrienne had been shot, was in the hospital with good prospects for surviving and that she was 'found' 146 miles from where she was supposed to be. The police were investigating. I would wait until I could speak face to face with them; until then it would do no good to alarm myself or my family with paranoid speculation.

After packing some clothes, an exercise that took less time than locating the car keys, we were off to pick up Gary.

Fortunately, it was a clear, dry July night. The roads revealed little traffic as we headed up towards the mountains and then made a left turn going halfway across the state to Williamsport. We made good time but it was still the longest trip of my life.

There wasn't much conversation from me in the car. What small talk there was came first from Drew reminiscing about funny things his mom had done, particularly her cooking disasters, then there were more stories from Gary about her childhood. Even so, the stories could not absorb the distance and most of the trip was made in silence. I knew that each of us thought of the questions we were afraid to pose to one another. Would she live? Who had done this terrible thing to her, and why?

Why would someone harm Adrienne? Suppose they went after her to get to me. No, that made no sense. We led very ordinary lives. Did I know anyone capable of such violence? Maybe twenty years ago, but that time in my life was long past. Certainly that one incident so long ago could not have been the catalyst for this. Even so, I briefly pondered that possibility, and then I reviewed my wife's situation.

Adrienne was a supervisor on her job. She dealt mainly with families in crisis: those suffering the ravages of abuse and neglect, most of whose casualties were children. Her cases were the worst of the worst in the county. Burnout amongst her colleagues was a constant concern, yet my wife managed to thrive in this environment, due in large part to our strength and support as a family.

Perhaps someone related to one of her clients had sought some form of retaliation. That possibility seemed remote too; the direct case workers were more at risk. In a way that was disappointing, it made the violence random, and much more frightening.

In case they had not thought of it, I calmly explained to Drew and Gary that we were likely to encounter the media at the hospital. Adrienne's shooting would be big news in that part of the world. Knowing the media from prior encounters, I instructed them to divert all inquiries to me. In that way we might get her some of the privacy she would require to heal.

Sunrise came when we were about an hour outside of Williamsport. Gary called ahead to the hospital. They would not give him any information other than to verify that my wife was a patient. 

He still needed to do something, so he called the hospital again and they gave him directions to follow upon entering town. I then asked him to get directory assistance to transfer him to the Gennetti Hotel. We would need a couple of rooms for at least a few days. It was mid-July and I hoped they would have vacancies. The Gennetti was the tallest building in the area so I could navigate to its doors by sight.

Chapter 2: Official Uncertainty

Like the hotel, the hospital was relatively easy to find, made so as there were very few cars on the streets. The world was just waking up as we entered an empty emergency room. We were all anxious to see her. It took only a few minutes to reach the attending physician and get approval for a short visit, albeit one at a time. I went in first.

The lights were dimmed and the room had an eerie glow. Adrienne was sleeping and I was reassured to find her breathing on her own. That was the only break. She looked like she had been in a car wreck. Her face showed several small abrasions, her eyes were puffy, and her skin discolored. 

Adrienne's shock of curly hair sat over her brow in an awkward position. I moved strands aside as I bent to kiss her forehead. When I picked up her hand, it was cool to the touch. She seemed so helpless, then as I gently squeezed her fingers, my eyes began to fill. Why not me? Why couldn't it have been me instead? I would have gladly traded places at that moment.

It's imprinted in our genes, this thing men have, this directive. It comes down to three words never spoken among us, but understood nonetheless. The father protects. The father protects. Against all odds and the absence of hope, a man will willingly sacrifice himself for his family. He is always on guard for dangers that might befall them. Should those dangers prove overwhelming then he is left with only one feeling…guilt.

My wife was all of five foot seven and about a hundred and forty pounds. Lying in that bed, she seemed much smaller and so very, very vulnerable. Who could have done this to her? They could not have known her. She was one of the most compassionate and gentlest souls on the planet. Adrienne could not even bear to see violence on television; much less confront it in person. She did not deserve this. We did not deserve this. We could have lost her. 

The doctor entered and began looking her over. I caught him outside, anxious to ask more questions. He said that they had removed only one bullet from her body. That one had entered near her collarbone and bounced around lodging near her elbow. The other bullet was a pass-through.

Fortunately, neither had hit vital organs, but the wounds were serious. She would be out of it for probably the rest of the day because of the sedatives but a full recovery was expected. According to him we could probably take her home in seven to ten days. 

I expressed a desire to have Adrienne moved to Lankenau Hospital which was a scant four miles from our home. He estimated that she could be transported the day after tomorrow and he would begin the process by contacting the physicians at the other end.

When he left I cozied up to the nursing staff. I began by thanking them for all they had done for my wife. My mother had been a nurse so I knew that the real answers about my wife's condition could only come from them. The nurses said she seemed to be more at peace the last few hours. It was then that I got a recounting of the events leading up to her admittance.

Adrienne is tenacious so I guessed she was admitted in an extremely agitated state. That was confirmed. What I did not know was how important was the couple whose campsite she wandered into. They were instrumental in saving her life. Her shirt was literally soaked in blood, but because of the color of the fabric it was hard to see except close up. They thought at first she had passed out drunk but decided to check her body thoroughly. It was then they realized that she was in shock.

By the time the EMTs arrived they had her bleeding under control. She was still in quite a bit of pain and went in and out of consciousness several times during the trip, and they struggled to calm her after she arrived. 

The staff thought that somehow she knew I was there with her and that explained her peaceful slumber during my visit. True or not, it was unsettling. I was beginning to experience a reoccurrence of the guilt for not having been there to protect her. It was a feeling I had struggled with earlier, that and a slowly building rage for the one who had shot her.

When I returned to her bedside, I was more confident she would survive, but there would likely be many months of physical rehabilitation ahead. It was implied that she would probably need some time in counseling too. Whatever it took, we would help her to get back to normal. We had faced adversity before. 

I thought back to another chaotic time in our marriage, to our first health crisis six years prior. At that time Adrienne complained that vaginal sex was becoming uncomfortable. While we tried different positions, the problem persisted for several weeks. My wife generally avoided doctors so I had to prod her to see one. Upon further investigation, she was diagnosed with a significant fibroid tumor. The growth was not cancerous but it was quite large, large enough that she underwent surgery to have it removed. In the process, the doctor determined the need for a hysterectomy.

So at age 35 my wife was thrown into early menopause. I thought Adrienne adjusted quickly to the new reality. She wasn't happy about menopause but she was relieved that the tumor was no longer a worry.

I smiled inwardly; for me the procedure had its benefits, albeit short lived. At first, after she had healed sufficiently, our sex life took off life a rocket. For a month Adrienne was insatiable. We were at it every morning, in the evening when I got home and then again as we made our way to bed for the night.

My wife has always been passionate about our couplings. When Adrienne gives of herself in sex, she commits her entire being. At least that is how I always felt. So intimacy between us had always been very satisfying. Now it became much more frequent and spontaneous as well. My sleep was being sacrificed every night but I wasn't complaining. Except for embarrassing the kids a few times with the noise, things could not have been better.

Then a month after it began it abruptly ended. After a couple months of my complaining, Adrienne spoke with her doctor and her hormone supplements were changed. Our frequency of lovemaking settled back into what it had been before her procedure. That was the only aspect of that ordeal that I missed.

It had been one wild rollercoaster ride for those months. I was just thankful that the original cause, that damned cyst, had not been cancerous. The thought of losing Adrienne was almost impossible to bear, but we survived that nightmare and we would survive this one; we had to. 

I laid another gentle kiss on her forehead before I left. I knew that Drew and Gary were anxious to see her. While they visited, I would duck out and check us all into the hotel.

Not much had changed in her condition when I returned. The feeling among the three of us bordered on guarded optimism, at least it was for both Gary and I. Drew was not adjusting as well. He was noticeably distraught. We took a walk outside to talk for a while. I tried to sound reassuring using that voice that only Dads can use in situations like this, and it seemed to work.

When we returned Gary was sound asleep. I left my son and went back to visit his mother. Seeing her asleep, knowing that she was going to make it, I suddenly felt fatigued. I do not know how long it took but I drifted off to sleep too after taking a seat by the bed. The next thing I remember was being gently shaken.

"Mr. Martens," I heard as if from afar. I looked up then over at Adrienne. She was still sleeping. The hand on my shoulder belonged to a young nurse about my daughter's age. I shifted upright in the seat. 

"We need to ask you to leave for a few minutes while we examine your wife."

"Is she OK?"

"She's doing fine. We're just going to move her to another examining room for some tests. She should return in an hour or so."

I reluctantly rose and made my way to the hallway. Looking at my watch I saw that it was now close to 11am. I had been out for over 3 hours.

I took a position on the opposite wall of the hallway while they wheeled her away. As I watched her go by I saw two state troopers standing at the nurses' station. The older of the two, a man I guessed was in his early fifties, began walking towards me. His face had a familiar look though I knew we had not met before.

"Lt. Havlechek?" I said when he was in range.

"Yes, and you are Mr. Martens," he replied offering hand. "I was hoping to speak with your wife. I hear she's still under but improving. That's good to hear."

"Yes, thank you for that. She's still out of it, but sleeping better than she has in weeks actually." I added with a wry smile. 

"Well it's not urgent anymore. We got our guy; we also have the murder weapon, and a full confession." 

As he said this Havlechek was gauging my reaction. It came quickly. I pushed back against the wall to brace myself as I leaned forward, supported by my hands on my knees. I was breathing slower now. 

"Thank God. I don't know what I would have done if that bastard had gotten away. That IS good news. But what do you mean by the murder weapon? He killed someone?"

"Yes, your wife's friend, Jane Glattfelder"

"Jane?"

"We found her body at the campsite."

"Oh no, not Jane…she was good people." I closed my eyes for a second in an attempt to regain my composure. "Have her parents been notified?"

"Yes," was all the Lieutenant would say. I still wanted to know how this happened. How did this man kidnap both my wife and her friend? Taking a deep breath I asked, "Did this animal say how he managed to kidnap both Jane and my wife?"

"Kidnap? He's not being charged with kidnapping. The campsite I mentioned was not his, it belonged to the women. As best as we can determine your wife and her friend arrived there on Tuesday. That's one of the facts I need to verify with her when she wakes. I take it by our conversation earlier that you didn't know they were there?"


Ardmore Pt. 02



This is part 2 of a 4 part story. There is virtually no sex in this story. Your comments, good or bad, are always welcome.

Chapter 5: The Fan

I was nine years old the summer my father moved us from Philadelphia to the nearby suburb of Ardmore. After many years as a secondary school teacher in Philadelphia, Papa had landed his first administrative position in the Lower Merion School district.

For all of my short life my father had worked two jobs. After his teaching day was over he worked another seven hours with United Parcel. He had been there thirteen years and was still a part-timer. This new administrative position meant he could afford to quit and spend more time with his family. It also meant that he and I would have an opportunity to get to know one another.

Our new home also offered a location a few miles from my mother's job at the hospital and within walking distance to Papa's at the High School. With four bedrooms and a finished basement, the house was a mansion compared to our apartment in the city. We also acquired three full bathrooms, a feature not lost on my four older sisters.

In a town of under twelve thousand people, we were guaranteed to know many of our neighbors. Mother, over the objections of my grand mother (who also lived with us), relaxed many of her rules for my sisters. For them it was their first taste of real freedom. 

That same freedom however, was slow in coming in my case. Being the youngest, and the only boy, my parents decided I needed a more structured approach. Discipline was prescribed; so they enrolled me in a summer wrestling program at the local YMCA. That one small decision was to have major implications in my life.

We had been in our new home less than a week when Papa and I walked over to the local Y branch early Saturday morning. As we entered the building, Papa gave me my final instructions. "Your class is down the hall. Here is your admissions slip", he said as he handed me as paper. "Don't worry, I won't stay and embarrass you, Julia will be here to pick you up at eleven." His smile indicated he was waiting for my reaction. Of course, I took the bait.

"Aw Papa! Why does Julia have to come for me? I'm not a baby. I know my way home. I memorized how we got here. It's not very far." 

My father gave me that look; the one that said he wasn't about to change his mind. Julia was meeting me and that was that. So there I stood in the gym, a bit apprehensive, taking in the scene of a couple dozen other boys around my age, mats arranged for the exercises and a few kids and parents sitting in the stands watching the practice. 

The coach, needing to get a rough assessment of our abilities paired us off as a prelude to a few impromptu matches. Mimicking the others, I donned my head gear in preparation. My opponent was a dark haired boy about my size. We were crouched on the mat sizing each other up, waiting for the whistle to start the contest. I admit to being a little nervous. I didn't know any of these kids and my reputation might be set with this one challenge. 

Almost as if prearranged, someone screamed "GARWEEE" a split second before the whistle was blown. As I turned towards the source the room started to spin. Seconds later I was looking up at the lights, a view which was suddenly blocked by the face of my opponent.

Laughter broke out throughout the gym. Several boys were doubled up pointing at me sprawled on the mat. Other than myself, there were only two people who were not amused: the coach, whose whistle silenced everyone, and my opponent who was staring up into the stands with a look I thought only my father had perfected.

"C'mon Lit, that wasn't fair and you know it", shouted the boy.

By now the coach had joined us, only his remarks were directed my opponent.

"Gary I've had it! Either you keep her quiet during practice or I'll have her removed from the gym. This is my last warning. Got it?"

"Sure, sorry coach."

Up in the stands was a girl, kind of chubby, with a head of the curliest brown hair I had ever seen. She had this dimpled smile of pure innocence. That smile lasted only until her brother reached her. Their conversation was short and mainly one-sided. The boy returned almost as soon as he left. 

"Sorry about that. My little sister likes to cheer for me. Sometimes she forgets about coach's rules. Hey, I'm Gary Danas. I guess you're new around here?"

"David Martens, and yeah we just moved here from Philly. You know that was some throw. Who taught you that?"

Gary gave me this strange look. I realized then that I had said something wrong.

"You ever wrestled before?"

"No, first time"

"What? Hey coach; this isn't the kid from Narbeth!" 

The coach came running over. After I answered a few questions he was beside himself. He had paired me up with one of his best wrestlers thinking I was a transfer from another team. His mistake could have gotten me seriously hurt. 

Gary had seen me don the headgear and assumed I knew what I was doing. It was then that I learned that this was THE wrestling team, not merely a class for beginners. Papa had signed me up for the wrong instruction.

I was not all that concerned with the mix-up but they were certainly annoyed. For me, only my pride had taken a fall. Gary's move had captured my imagination. Could I too learn to move that quickly? And why had my body responded following my arm as I flipped over? I wanted to learn the shoulder throw. I wanted to become a wrestler. 

Recognizing my enthusiasm, I was put in a group of novices and given instruction on the basic holds. Most of the kids were pretty cool about my first match and I was on my way to making quite a few friends. 

When the practice ended I took a position outside the gym waiting for Julia. It was then that Gary and his sister (who's real name was Adrienne), approached me. They were going for pizza and asked if I wanted to join them.

In response to Gary's invitation I answered, "I can't. I've got to wait for my sister."

"You have a sister?" asked Lit, suddenly very interested.

"Actually I have four. They're all older though." Lit's smile faded a bit and I could tell this cut short her hope for new playmates. 

It was then that Lit told me how sorry she was for interfering. She didn't know I might have gotten hurt. I remember her voice, the slight lisp as she apologized. I remember the sincere look in her large eyes. She was only seven years old, and yet she was one of the most empathetic people I would ever meet.

Gary too was upset, but more embarrassed that he had taken unfair advantage. The more we talked it turned out that he and I were the same age and shared many of the same likes. It was probably an odd way to meet my new best friend, but for us we became friends almost immediately. 

We had gathered up our things and were moving down the hallway when I recognized my sister and her boyfriend coming towards us. Seeing them together I knew my chances of going to lunch with my new friends were suddenly looking up.

At the time my sister was sixteen and her boyfriend Chris, eighteen. They were a picture of contrasts: Julia, always smartly dressed, walking with an air of confidence as if she were a runway model, and Chris, whom the best way to describe was "scruffy", sporting long hair kept in a ponytail as well as a day old growth of a beard. I'd never seen him in anything other than torn faded jeans. They were the model and the hippy as Papa called them.

Julia was going against my parent's wishes by dating Chris. He was feared in our old neighborhood, though he kept to himself and never bothered anyone. Even so, it was rumored that he was in Philly as a result of having gotten into trouble in his home town somewhere in upstate Pennsylvania. My friends at the time thought he was an escaped criminal, though that was pure rumor. 

Regardless, I liked Chris. He was always friendly to me and he made Julia laugh (which was no small fete). If Julia liked him then that was enough for me. My parents may not have trusted her judgment, but I did. I was counting on her judgment working in my favor that afternoon.

I introduced them to my new friends, and then pleaded with Julia to let us go to lunch with them before heading home. I knew she would balk, not wanting to upset my father; however, I counted on Chris siding with me. He could always influence my sister's decisions. As I knew he would, he broke into a huge smile when our eyes met.

"How much for a pizza?" I asked turning to Gary.

"Only three dollars for a medium", he stated as he began digging in his pockets. He looked disappointed as he withdrew several coins, so I started feeling around for my own money when Lit chimed in. "I have money. I'll treat." 

At which point Julia leaned down towards her. "Adrienne is it? You don't have to do that, this will be our treat. What would you like?"

Lit moved in to whisper something to my sister and afterward Julia straightened up smiling. "Pepperoni and Sausage it is then" she announced turning to Chris.

Well I had my pizza. Lit talked with Julia the entire time while Gary and I discussed the team and my upcoming training; and every so often Gary would look over at my sister and get this sort of goofy look. I'd seen it all before, mainly how guys acted when they came around Julia, goofy. 

Guys thought my sister was good looking. Why? Who knew? Surely they had never seen her shaving her legs on Saturday or saw caught sight of her before breakfast. She was just a girl. Of course in years of hindsight I know now that she was very pretty and did bear an uncanny resemblance to Catherine Zeta Jones. Of course, none of that mattered to me. She was the closest to me of all my sisters because I could always go to her for advice and she didn't treat me like a kid. 

"I see we have another lefty", she remarked upon seeing Lit pick up her slice. The comment was made to me and I nodded as Lit understood her meaning. I was left handed too as was Julia. As a result, she and I always sat next to one another at the dinner table. She was fond of saying that this made us special. Now that designation extended to Lit.

For the rest of lunch, and even during the walk home, Lit stayed close to Julia. My sister might have been nine years older, but for Lit there was a serious case of hero worship developing. I don't know if Julia was flattered by the attention, but I do know she always made herself available when Lit came to visit.

That summer ended up being all about wrestling. I failed to make the team, but like Lit, I made it to all the local matches. Gary tutored me and I kept practicing. By the end of the following summer I had made the team. From then on, until I graduated high school, wrestling was my passion.

It didn't take long for me to figure out that Gary's current mission in life was 'to look after his sister'. That meant that if he was ever to have any fun Lit had to be with him. She was his constant companion, his shadow, the price he paid for having a life outside the house. The funny thing was, he did not seem to mind and neither did she.

It was an interesting accommodation those two had made. Gary would always talk to her as if he were the senior member of their partnership. He wasn't condescending; it was mainly away of shutting her up so he could get a word in while we were all together. Funny thing was that Lit was talkative to a fault, but only in front of us; otherwise she clamed up around people, self-conscious about her lisp.

We became friends in part because I too spoke to her like an equal. Our circumstances at home were similar. No one took us seriously. I had four sisters, the youngest of which was almost three years older than me. 

I was used to being talked down to as the 'baby' of the family by everyone except Julia. Generally, my sisters barked orders and I obeyed. They tolerated having an undisciplined male around. To me it was a relief to talk to a girl and not have to wait for a correction after each sentence. Besides that, for a girl, Adrienne was pretty cool. 

She might have been younger but she was more daring than some of our friends. She was better on skates than me, as good a swimmer, and she taught me how to bait a line; in fact, I learned most of what I know about fishing from her. I counted her among my two closest friends.

It wasn't surprising that I became a regular at Gary's house. In many respects it was more hospitable than my own. His parents were younger and seemed more understanding. With my folks I could expect constant reminders of what Maria, Julia, Gloria or Gina did when they were my age and how I was not conforming to their expectations.

I was fortunate to have gained permission to have gone to Gary's so often. For the next year the atmosphere at my house became strained as Julia left to marry Chris. It took a longer time for Papa to forgive her; but the appearance of his first grandchild did accelerate the process.

Eventually I did gain my freedom that first summer and it didn't take long for my folks to get accustomed to having the three of us rushing in and out of our house many times during the day. Nor did it take long for Lit to become their favorite amongst my playmates. 

A week after school started Julia told me Lit confided she was being teased about her lisp by several older boys at recess. She was to the point of faking illness to avoid going to school. Julia wanted to make sure that I had never participated in any teasing of Lit. I think the expression on my face left little doubt what I thought of those who hurt my friend. Then Julia asked that I look out for her in school.

I had a conversation with Gary about the problem and then we had a 'talk' with the kids in question. They never bothered Lit after that.

We had been virtually inseparable up until then, but after classes commenced, our time together became more limited as my father dictated minimum study periods at home. Even with that imposition, we still found time on weekends to hang out.

Familiarity led to me to begin treating Lit as if she too was my sister. It was unconscious on my part, but eventually came to be accepted by both sets of parents. Affirmation of that status came in late October when Gary was sidelined with a cold. 

During his illness he asked me to take Lit around the neighborhood on Halloween. To my surprise, his parents enthusiastically approved. Even my sisters thought the idea of me escorting her was 'cute', all except Julia who made sure to remind me what a heavy responsibility I had accepted. Of course my acceptance was a little selfish.

We lived in a community that made much fanfare of Halloween. For me, dressing up in costume and getting candy as a reward made Halloween my second favorite holiday, surpassed only by Christmas. We were to go out with about a dozen other kids. Of course, that plan was scrapped a few minutes after we left the house. We would fare better with less competition.

This year promised to be the best ever. I knew that grownups might be stingy with boys, but with little girls they were always overly generous. Traveling with Lit would ensure a very friendly audience and more candy than usual. 

We started late because our folks just had to have pictures of us. Fortunately, the delay had little impact. Just as I hoped, we were having a great night, with each house bent on giving Lit a hefty supply of goodies. Her bag was almost full before we made it off her block. At the next stop I had begun speaking with a couple on their porch. Lit was patiently waiting at my side, when a loud noise from behind drew our attention.

Two older 'pirates' were standing near, and as if on cue, one snatched Lit's bag, jumped the railing and took off running with his partner. I turned as Lit screamed and began to cry. 

I was outraged. I had never been so angry. The couple was just as irate, and shouted at the young thieves to come back. I threw down my hat, told Lit to wait for me and took off in hot pursuit. Something in me had snapped. All I could see was her crying.

Two blocks later I caught up with them. They looked to be a couple of years older but I didn't care as I barreled into the one with the bag from behind, knocking him to the ground. His friend turned to assist, but was a second too slow as I brought my heel up and jammed it into his belly. The boy under me punched me in my cheek as I began swinging wildly at his face and chest. I connected so often that he decided that defense was his best option.

I must have looked like a maniac to him. On my last volley, he managed to push me away and took to the street leaving his fallen comrade. I was so keyed-up that I started to chase him again. Then I remembered Lit's bag. A few steps later I turned back and found it lying on the ground, its contents strewn about.

Retrieving the items I ran back to house where I'd left her. She was waiting on the front steps with the same couple. They had wiped her tears and offered to take her home but she was adamant that she wait for me. I'll never forget how overjoyed she was when I returned with her candy. 

That concluded the evening for us. I decided to take her home. The fun was out of it. For the first time since we met, she moved her hand into mine as we left together and my heart began to swell with pride. 

Papa asked me what I thought I was doing by chasing those boys. I could have gotten seriously hurt. My only response was to look him square in the eye and say that Lit was crying. He repeated his question and I responded in the same fashion. I might have been upset, and he understood that, but that action cost me several weekends of house detention. I remembered Julia's words earlier and even the bruise on my cheek and my father's chastisement could not diminish my pride.

I never again substituted for Gary. We grew older and became more independent. I continued to see Lit since I was often a guest in her house. In fact, I probably had more Sunday dinners at their table than my own. Of course, as we entered our teens it was inevitable that our paths would diverge, although we would never be truly apart. 

Chapter 6: Hormones and happenstance 

Adrienne started budding at twelve. The chubby little girl I met at seven was developing curves, even if she still preferred jeans to dresses. And for the first time I'd known her she was self-conscious about her appearance around me, particularly her sprouting chest. It did not help that Gary and I were beginning to learn the art of chasing girls. 

So much of our conversation those days revolved around the latest crush or the current 'squeeze'. We had always treated Adrienne like one of the guys so it wasn't unusual for us to talk freely with her nearby. I recall the first incident where I began to become more aware of our differences. 

Gary and I were in a light-hearted discussion rating our female classmates. We forgot Adrienne was there. Our descriptions were blunt to point of being crude. That conversation got me some nasty looks that day and the cold shoulder for a few days thereafter. It was then I knew that something had changed between us. I became much more cautious around her after that. That caution was particularly helpful later when other boys started showing up at the house for her.

At fifteen Adrienne acquired a boyfriend, even though her folks held she was still too young to date. I knew about him, because like me, he sat almost every Sunday for dinner. His name was Ari Manos. 

Ari's father and her father had been best friends since childhood. It was generally understood by both men that their offspring would marry. In what was as close to an arranged marriage as was possible, Ari was being prepped for Adrienne. That much I learned from Gary. 

Ari was a nice kid and I personally liked him, even though his presence made me a little uncomfortable at first. Gradually I found that he was pretty funny and excelled at telling jokes. He seemed to have memorized hundreds. It was obvious that Adrienne liked him too since she went out of her way to make him feel like one of the family. 




Ardmore Pt. 02



At the time she was volunteering some of her free time with her mother at an abused women's shelter in town. So oftentimes her dinner conversation revolved around her activities there. While I found the discussions interesting, I was surprised that Ari often sat silent stifling yawns. He rarely contributed anything to that part of the conversation, which I found odd since Adrienne was so strongly committed. 

The only person who wasn't too keen on Ari was Gary. He didn't resent him, just the reason for him being there. While cordial, he always told me that Adrienne and Ari would never become a couple. This was his father's idea and it was a bad one. He never said why he thought the way he did; so I assumed he was just being overly protective. 

For my part I didn't spend much time thinking about Adrienne's love life. When I reached high school our wrestling team was consuming a fair amount of our energies. Both Gary and I had achieved all-state rankings in our respective classes and as usual, Adrienne was up in the stands with my father during all our home contests.

As the team's standing improved so did our notoriety, and of course our stock amongst the girls in school. Gary was basking in the limelight attempting to date the entire junior class. He must have gone out with a couple dozen girls by the end of the first half of that year. How he remained good friends with so many I'll never understand.

Me, I had latched on to a pretty blonde named Brenda Williams. Well that wasn't exactly true. She had actually latched on to me.

I had known Brenda since junior high where we regularly competed in math classes. She was perhaps the brightest kid in the school and definitely one of the most popular. Her intelligence, coupled with an effervescent personality and dazzling looks made her a magnet for male attention. 

Gary once briefly dated her as a freshman. He succeeded after failed attempts by most the freshman class. Because of his past interest I avoided her. For reasons I couldn't fathom, she began shadowing me as we began our junior year.

Initially the flirting was subtle; she began to appear at our practices that summer then when classes began she was often sitting near me passing obscure notes. By the second week of school I had received several calls at home asking about homework assignments. This was unusual because her grades were never doubt. Then when I returned the calls it was obvious her interests were more in me than my notes.

Gary cracked up when I told him what Brenda had been doing. But as often happened, Adrienne overheard my story and wasn't amused. She had a few run-ins with Brenda while she dated Gary. He knew his sister wasn't a fan and told me. Adrienne never said why she disliked Brenda but her facial gestures spoke volumes. Regardless of her displeasure, Brenda was one hot chick. When Gary guessed that I was holding back because of their past history, he encouraged me to 'go for it'. 

Our first date was extraordinary. All night I kept asking myself the same question. Why Me? Here was this five foot four stacked honey with a smokin' body who thought I was her dream date. She was easy to talk to, sweet, sexy, and she wanted to know everything about me. 

The girl could not keep her hands to herself, small wonder that by Christmas I was silly in love. In the year and half we were together she taught me how to kiss, swapped her virginity for mine and introduced me to the joys (and terrors) of public sex. After wrestling, school work, and working part-time, every remaining minute was consumed with Brenda. 

By the end of my junior year I had a little over $ 700 saved up from part-time jobs. This was my money for incidentals needed for school. As Brenda and I became closer the desire for a car became more urgent. Papa wasn't pleased with the idea; he wanted the money to remain in the bank, at least until I turned 18. Left up to him, Brenda and I could either hitch a ride with another couple or use public transportation.

There was but one option left to me, to plead my case with my mother and let her persuade Papa. My mother was much more receptive to me buying car. Being the more practical of the two; she extracted specific promises from me as to access by the family as well as my obligation to pay for my own insurance and upkeep. In the end I got the car but the cost was measured in a lot more than money.

With me working mainly for money to support our weekend excursions into Philadelphia; the only free time we spent apart were my now infrequent Sunday dinners at Gary's. Brenda loved to dance, so we were often found either at one of the clubs in the city or at one of the ever-frequent campus parties in the area. We might have been underage but no one would refuse Brenda entry, and where she went, I went. Our times together were always an adventure. 

She would rub her butt up against my crotch the entire night, whether on the dance floor or standing near a secluded wall. She was exhausting. It got so I was guaranteed to be tired and horny as I drove her home each night. Then once we reached her door we spent almost as much time kissing and feeling each other up.

I turned eighteen in February of our senior year. Brenda, who was a couple of months older, decided we would celebrate by loosing our virginities. Her declaration had not come as a surprise. I had been carrying a condom in my wallet for several months in anticipation. 

We went to her sister's apartment on the Bryn Mawr campus. Brenda had made arrangements and the place was empty. She had assurances that it was ours for the night. She had accurately assessed our lust for one another, but not how often I could recoup. For us, it was barely enough time.

After a few shots of vodka I found myself buried in Brenda's wet and snug pussy. She was a wild woman. She was also double jointed, the importance of which guaranteed me a sore back for days. Even so, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. 

Sex was a revelation for Brenda. It made a serious imprint on her personality. Put another way, she became insatiable. We had sex in the back seat of my car, in the swings at the playground, on the train station platform, and on the train itself. We once even tried oral on a Ferris wheel. I was walking on air and completely addicted. Brenda loved sex and her enthusiasm was infectious. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of thinking her enthusiasm and love of sex applied to me as well.

A month before our senior prom she dumped me. She didn't leave a message or write a letter. First we had sex under the stands of the baseball field. Later as we dressed she simply looked me straight in the eye and calmly told me the score. I remember the scene well. As usual, her logic was unassailable.

She had early admission to UC Berkley and would be pre-med. We had talked about her planning to be a doctor, but Berkley was a stunner. Her sister was attending Bryn Mawr, and both her mother and aunt were alumnae, so naturally I assumed she would be following them. I was so wrong.

Knowing I was planning on college close to home she thought a long distance relationship would be impractical. I listened in silence, thinking that the practical part had more to do with her sexual appetite than her need to focus on her studies. With her looks she would have no trouble replacing me at Berkley.

She wanted a clean break, no complications. We would always be 'friends'. I agreed. She showed surprise that I took it so well. We even parted after a passionate kiss. Inside I was a wreck, but I refused to give her any satisfaction of my condition. We had talked about our lives after high school many times so her announcement that afternoon came as a complete turnabout. 

It was awkward seeing her at school those last couple of months but I acted my part. 

After high school we did correspond for a short time while she was at Berkley. Our relationship was never the same though. We lost touch after freshman year. 

The problem was that I thought I actually loved her. The breakup hit me hard. I had never experienced such pain before, and it was unceasing. Over and over I replayed our adventures, our promises, what we had said before and after sex. Nothing made sense. Without a way to reconcile her behavior all I felt was lost. 

I didn't go to my senior prom. My teammates had rented several limos. I didn't see the point. Gary tried to set me up but I refused his help. As a last resort Adrienne offered herself as my date. She knew all about my breakup, in some respects she knew more than Gary. 

Anyway, I made the big mistake of telling her she was too young. It was a thoughtless comment that I regretted as soon as I said it. When I saw the hurt in her eyes I immediately tried to apologize, but she would not accept it. Our conversations were cool for a time thereafter, and for a while I was afraid the breakup had cost me both of my closest female relationships. 

There was a certain payoff in my own self-pity so I didn't outwardly indicate I missed either of them. Fortunately I still saw a lot of Adrienne, so our issues did eventually resolve themselves.

I had changed though. Never again would I allow myself to become 'whipped'. The sex hid too many things. It dulled my senses and masked the truth. I swore it would not happen again. Somehow I needed to harden myself against such traps.

Chapter 7: The Grand Experiment

Brenda knew the colleges where I had applied. They were all in the area. However, I never had the opportunity to tell her I had been accepted to Temple University. They offered scholarship help if I wrestled. They also offered student housing. I accepted the admission and rejected wrestling and the housing, instead opting to pay my way and commute. Papa was not amused. 

Gary tried to talk me out of it and so did Adrienne. I had told them both about my intentions. Gary would be wrestling at Penn State. He argued I could join that program if I wanted. My grades were excellent and with my all-state ranking they would undoubtedly make room for me. 

Adrienne disagreed; she thought the Temple offer was too good to turn down. But in her view the idea of working my way through school was impractical, even if I lived at home. It would have been better to take the aid, live on campus, and wrestle for their team. Her argument was well reasoned and she was passionate in its delivery. I could see her concern for me but it wasn't enough. 

In my mind I associated wrestling with Brenda. My passion for the sport was gone, replaced by a gnawing ache. Depression does that to you, but I was too young to recognize it. To my way of thinking, wrestling was too public an activity. I wanted to withdraw into solitude; my studies alone afforded me that privilege.

My decision caused a financial shortfall that could only be met by student loans and a part-time job. In an unexpected move, Papa said he only had enough money to cover my first year. Still I remained unyielding. I promised to work my way through to graduation. Inexplicably he gave up when I mentioned that.

At the time I was eighteen. Only Gina and I remained at home. My oldest sister, Maria, was a surgical nurse in Baltimore. Julia was married and a mother, while Gloria was finishing graduate school at Brown. Even Gina, a newly licensed engineer, was planning on moving out in the spring. Perhaps after guiding my four older siblings into adulthood Papa was too tired to contend with my growing moodiness.

Contrary to the self-confidence I tried to display to him, I was not sure what I wanted to do with my life. At school I went through the registration process in a haphazard fashion. In my first semester I had decided to take differential calculus because math felt comfortable.

I did not have a major in mind. Business was intriguing. The behavioral sciences were interesting. In fact, I was curious about every subject in the catalog, though not driven by any. I thought to take my time, choosing at the last possible opportunity. In the meantime, whatever my eventual major, I did have one concrete goal, to graduate in 3 years.

I picked several courses based upon my advisor's recommendations. For the last I chose sociology in part because Adrienne encouraged me to take it. It turned out to be my favorite.

My Soc professor and I hit it off immediately. He made the subject fascinating by continually blending in economic analysis as a way of objectifying behavior. There was also enough cynicism in the course that I was hooked. In addition the Prof was big on research, an area where I excelled. 

We read "Tally's Corner" and discussed cognitive dissonance. I was taken with the subject and wanted to pursue my own independent study. My professor bought into the idea and suggested, though half in jest, that it would be safer if I researched women in the sex trade as opposed to street gangs. It was said in jest but I took his idea seriously.

At the end of that first semester I had a 3.8 grade point average and a determination to try for an independent study the next semester. It took half a dozen research proposals delivered over the Christmas break to obtain permission for the project. 

I settled on getting a job in a gentleman's club as a means to accomplish that goal. I even persuaded my Soc professor to write a letter of introduction. He thought it was a hokey approach, but I was confident it would help in getting the job. Later, the letter did prove useful, but in a manner not intended. Getting his recommendation was easy, the job was another matter. 

Club after club turned me away. My age was often being given as the reason. I was seeking jobs at the seedier places in town. Fighting a growing despair I started going to the more upscale gentlemen's clubs. At the last establishment, Xanadu, I struck up a conversation with one of the bouncers, Albert Farina. Albert, like me, had been a state ranked high school wrestler and we knew of each other by reputation. 

As we talked he found himself drawn into a potential brawl between four disgruntled patrons. Their battle began as soon as they reached the street. They had not counted on Albert being an obstacle to their fight. Seeing that he was outnumbered, I interjected myself, careful not to cause injury or expand the disturbance. 

I should mention that I was still in pretty good shape at that time of my life. At 5'11" I weighed in at 195 pounds, most of it muscle, and fortunately I now moved almost instinctively, a benefit from years of training.

I held one man and simply talked some sense into him. Of course, that was after his buddy got kicked in the shins by Albert to facilitate his reeducation. That man and I also had a very calming conversation; as calming as possible while I held his friend in a headlock. Acute pain has a way of making alcohol take a back seat. It was soon after order was restored that I found I had a job.

Well it was almost that easy. Actually Mr. Rui (pronounced Roo), the club's owner, asked me into his office after the melee. When I told him I was looking for a job and why, he responded with skepticism. He politely told me that I was too young to work in the club where booze was served. However, when I produced the letter from my Sociology professor he let out a laugh so loud that people came knocking. 

He simply waived them away, but not before summoning one of his dancers. A tall caramel colored black woman appeared minutes later. She was a knockout. "Wow" was my first thought as I took in her beauty. She must have come directly from the stage, as she was loosely covered by a silk robe, which allowed me glimpses of her bare breasts as she entered. 

Rui passed her the letter; she scanned it quickly and then looked over at me, a small smile barely escaping her lips. "Independent study?" She asked me, her voice clear and surprisingly authoritative. 

"Yes ma'am." I managed to croak out.

She turned back to Rui and nodded. At that point he merely said thanks and she left. Rui got up, peeked outside his door momentarily and retook his seat. I in turn sat studying him more closely. 

"Kid, that's some letter. I get about one joker a year trying to 'research' my ladies. You're the first to bring me proof." With that said he sat and chuckled to himself. 

He was a bull of man. Though several inches shorter than me, he weighed in at about 240 or so, and he too appeared a man used to physical exertions. All this was in contrast to his very measured way of speaking. That was the reason his employees were so alarmed. Rui rarely laughed, and if he did he was never so animated.

He then reconsidered giving me a job. It turned out that Mr. Rui not only had women working in the club, he also provided entertainment for private parties' offsite. It was my luck that when I met him he was in need of another driver (or footman as he called me). I was to drive and provide security.

The job was mine with three conditions: that I had a driver's license since I was to use a company car, that I got a haircut, and that I come to work always in a dark suit. He explained that his business was based upon image, and the image I projected reflected the reputation of the club. 

If mine were some scheme to meet women it would be to my benefit to leave right then. Fraternization with the dancers was strictly forbidden. The club did not even allow boyfriends or husbands to enter during working hours, so relationships with other employees could also not be tolerated. Image, reputation and business, these were the words Rui emphasized over and over as I shook my head in agreement.

I arrived home an hour later more in doubt than I expected. It's one thing to fantasize about working around a group of hard bodied dancers; it's another to actually have that job. I knew I needed to get over Brenda and that I had been slowly withdrawing from everyone. Working at the club would be like shock therapy. 

My schedule was set for Friday and Saturday evenings between 6pm and 2am. I was getting a whopping $ 8.00 an hour; this at a time when the minimum wage was $ 2.30. The money was better than I imagined! All that remained was to explain this to my father. 

I had to tell Papa about my new job since I would be coming in quite late, and it wasn't enough to merely say I would be working nights. My father is not a stupid man. I told him about my research for class then about the job itself. He didn't ask many questions, only advised me to be quiet when I arrived home. He would explain the rest to my mother. 

Inwardly I gave a sigh of relief. If my mother objected, my plans would be history, which is why I approached him first. He would do the talking for me.

I thought when we finished that I would never understand Papa. I prepared to lay out all the arguments I could. Again I was caught off guard when he acquiesced to everything. Based upon his reaction I decided not to tell my friends until I had been working for a while. 

In order to maintain some distance between myself and the ladies in my charge I decided to adopt a persona solely for the Club. I altered my physical appearance by shaving my head completely bald, and instead of the dark suit, I purchased a used tuxedo with red bowtie and cumber bun. In hindsight, being bald caused more turmoil with my parents than my coming in at 3am.

When Friday arrived I thought I had it figured out. On assignment, I was going to behave like a fly on the wall: speak only when spoken to, act only when demanded, and project a face devoid of emotion. Ostensibly, this was a research project (or so I deluded myself). Questions could not be asked during engagements so the drive times would become the principal research periods.

The club had a day manager and a night manager in addition to Rui himself. Rui had eighty ladies in his stable (his term not mine). Less than two dozen or so did out-call work; and they were to be my principal concern. 




Ardmore Pt. 02



So it began with me working two nights a week for 2-3 contracts a night. I would arrive at the club at around five-thirty, shoot the breeze with Albert, get my dispatch sheet from the night manager, then pick up the women there, or logistics (and them) permitting, pick them up at some other designated location.

The first couple of weeks were like being a diabetic in a chocolate factory. Every one of Rui's ladies was exceptional. Even the ones I had initial reservations about looked alluring once they began stripping. I might not have felt like flirting during our travels but my hand was working overtime for my libido when I returned home.

While nothing was said during or preceding their performances, the ladies were normally quite talkative in the car at the end. Inevitably I started to open up some in order to get to know them. However, so much of what I knew about strippers was third hand, so I was wary of getting too familiar or trying to establish any real friendships.

Most of my stereotypes about dancers evaporated as I got to know them. My passengers were mainly single women and working mothers. There were young girls fresh from the hills of Tennessee as well as glamour queens from the boroughs of New York. These women were former file clerks, servers and housewives; a fair share were college graduates. My first real find was Serena, the woman I had seen earlier in Rui's office.

Serena said she was an associate professor at Temple in clinical psychology. Her dancing was merely a means to earn a down payment for her house. I was a bit skeptical. Dancers have notorious reputations as liars. Forget used car salesmen, no one can lie as convincingly as a stripper. I felt a little guilty afterward, but I did look for Serena's office the next day at school. I had to know if she were telling the truth about being on the faculty. She was.

Our shifts overlapped on Friday night, so we saw each other only once a week. When we did meet she clued me in on many of the ladies in addition to their significant others. Her observations were so insightful that my papers for the course were peppered with her sayings, insights and even her sarcasm. 

Serena was running an unofficial counseling service for the ladies. While she wouldn't directly breach confidences, she was a wealth of information about their backgrounds and habits. For instance, in order to avoid misunderstandings it was beneficial for me to learn quickly about the various boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, and sugar daddies associated with the ladies in my care. I began to tread very lightly around several women because of Serena's insightful warnings.

From Serena I also came to understand that regardless, dancers were all just people looking to make a living. I would never be able to determine how many really enjoyed what they were doing. Undoubtedly, they all got off on teasing the customers, that was a prerequisite; but most of the ladies I talked to were clear from the beginning that this was a job, and a well paying job at that.

One unforeseen phenomena were the significant number of girl on girl relationships I witnessed. Here these women were exposing themselves to drunken horny males night after night, trying their best to titillate and separate them from their money, yet when the work was done, they returned home to the arms of another woman.

Research said that women in prison often sought out lesbian relationships, even though over 90% had children on the outside; and the girl on girl inclinations mainly dissolved upon release. Was there something inherent in dancing (or stripping) akin to the mindset of imprisoned women? I would write about that in my next paper.

Of course there were a number of unattached women too, but they were in the minority. Mostly the dancers seemed to need at least one close relationship. Regardless of status, flirting for all of them was an art form, an art form to be practiced at every opportunity. 

Unfortunately, my very presence qualified me as a perfect practice dummy. I picked up on that early on and learned to flirt defensively. It was harmless as I had no intention of seeing any of them outside of work, yet the sexy banter took some of the edge off me seeing them strip.

After a couple of months I settled into a routine. My hours by then included working on Thursdays. In the process of getting to know my job as well as the ladies, most of my fantasies had faded away. The first woman to exit my erotic dreams was Bunny.

Bunny was a twenty year old from Idaho. A two year veteran, she was one of the sweetest women in the club, and the most naïve. She stood about five four and was a redhead with a freckled complexion who carried a few pounds over the 'model' category. She had the sensual pudginess of a Marilyn Monroe.

Her act was simple made arousing because of her lush body. She began in a cowgirl costume that she discarded in the rawest sexual manner leaving only her bare breasts and g-string. If ever one saw a woman who jiggled an enticement, it was she. What caught your attention was the way her hips moved as she walked. It was worth the price of admission. 

Having been with her out on half dozen outings, I knew her act by heart. One night she decided to enhance to her show by introducing a bullwhip. I noticed it as we began our first gig but thought it was a prop. Well, that guess proved as naïve as Bunny's intentions. 

The venue was a going away party at a VFW lodge. The crowd was enjoying Bunny like I knew they would. When it came time to release her skirt she unraveled the whip and cracked it at our guest of honor seated in the center of the floor. 

The popper landed a few inches from his family jewels. You could hear a collective groan escape from every male in attendance. Even I, stunned by the gimmick, unconsciously moved to protect my privates. Whatever Bunny's motive, the trick was a huge mistake. The crowd said it, and I told her as much when we re-entered the car. I thought she agreed, but with Bunny that light did not always come on behind her eyes. 

That should have ended it, but the whip made reappearance at our next contract, a birthday party at the client's home. Bunny was determined to crack the damn thing in the family room. 

Who does such a thing? How does someone come to think of such as a good idea? Hell, this wasn't like New Coke versus Classic Coke; this was a genuinely dumb idea.

And it had disastrous results for one of the client's chairs. Better the chair than the client. The client was in word, livid, and asked us to leave immediately.

Come Monday morning I cut class in order to see Rui. My sole purpose was damage control. Xanadu formally opened at 11am but the staff was on hand when I arrived a little before 10am. Rui was upstairs in his office. 

Though I only encountered a handful of employees, everyone appeared to be smirking as they greeted me. Obviously they were aware of our little fiasco Saturday. I had had the remainder of the weekend to see the humor in what happened. Rui had not. It showed. The man was completely devoid of humor or empathy. His pronouncements were short, blunt, and irrevocable. 

Bunny was suspended for a week and would be paying for the damages. In addition, to further appease the client, he had offered a free getaway weekend in New York complete with tickets to 'A Chorus Line', also compliments of Bunny. As for me, I faired better, getting in essence the fool of the month award for allowing it all to happen.

I knew the trick was wrong yet I stood by. Rui said the ladies needed strong male guidance from time to time. My job was to provide that guidance. Forget my age; the ladies would listen if I spoke up forcefully. We were lucky he interceded with the client after our mishap. In the future there were to be no bullwhips of any type!

When the meeting was over I headed downstairs to the employee break room.

Rui prided himself on having not only the best dancers in the city but also one of the most exclusive restaurants. In some circles he was better known for the cuisine than the bodies on display. To some, the decision to serve food and fine wines may have cost him business, for Pennsylvania law prohibited full nudity in places that served alcohol. 

The break room was down the hall from the kitchen and looked more like a restaurant than a lounge. We ate as well there as the guests in the restaurant. I wasn't hungry though, my mouth was dry from the session with Rui. I was more in need of a glass of water. I found Serena seated at one of the tables reading the Wall Street Journal. She barely acknowledged me as I plopped down in front of her. 

"Still trying to determine when to buy?" I said, wistfully.

"Soon. Carter is surely going to force up interest rates. Naming bubba Lance head of OMB is unnerving the capital markets. I better buy in soon while I can afford to."

"How can you say that? He's only been President for what, a month?" 

She looked up with a pensive expression, and then returned to her paper speaking to me with her eyes steady on the page. "Did Bunny really use a bullwhip in the dining room?"

I took a deep breath. "No, of course not", I said, pausing for effect. "It was the family room." 

We shared a good laugh at that, though my line of vision went to the hallway in case Rui might suddenly appear. 

"That girl lacks common sense sometimes. But I thought better of you. How did you let her do that?"

"How was I supposed to know? She caught me off guard. I thought it was a prop."

Serena really lost it when I said that. I noticed that several of the other ladies in the room were laughing too. What could I say? I screwed up. Serena, seeing me exposed, changed the subject.

"David, you placed out of freshman math didn't you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Dee Dee here needs a tutor for her G.E.D."

A petite brunette was enjoying a cigarette one table away. She walked over and offered her hand before taking a seat with us. 

I was a bit ambivalent at that moment and could have refused; but the request came from Serena so I felt an obligation. She should have known that being a math geek had nothing to do with my being a tutor. Anyway, there was no harm being open to help her.

Dee Dee and I had pleasant conversation as I came to understand her challenges. She was friendly enough and desperate for help. That left me little wiggle room. After having been partially the cause of Bunny's fine, I was feeling remorseful and in no mood to accept payment from Dee Dee. What I thought was a reasonable gesture of free assistance was immediately declined. We haggled for a while until I accepted $ 20 per session.

I worked with Dee Dee until the beginning of summer. It took some doing, but she eventually mastered the algebra and geometry problems in the text books. She wasn't a natural at math but she did work hard. The only downside was her girlfriend.

Dee Dee originally suggested we hold the sessions in her apartment. However, she failed to mention her roommate. I knew something was amiss when I met the woman. I offered my hand and she looked at it like I had the plague. Needless to say, my verbal greeting went unanswered too.

I thought Dee Dee must have been expecting that, for she merely shrugged off those insults. I decided not to make a big deal of it. My host would surely say something if the hostility escalated. Besides, her smoking was also causing me some discomfort. 

After the second session I had had enough. The other woman was making a habit of casually coming into the room where we were working and glaring at me for minutes at a time. If she were trying to make me uncomfortable she was succeeding. Her actions were downright creepy.

Our remaining sessions were held at Temple's library in one of the study rooms. That assured us both a measure of privacy and me some escape from her smoking. How her girlfriend dealt with that I would never know, nor did I ask.

When she passed her G.E.D. I was as happy for Dee Dee as she herself. The next day she told everyone at work that I had made it possible. It was her accomplishment so I tried to downplay my role while emphasizing how hard she had worked.

Those study periods with Dee Dee were exhilarating and I missed them. I mean, I really missed them. Somewhere during the process I realized that I enjoyed helping someone achieve a goal they thought previously unreachable. I enjoyed being part of her learning process, of watching the light go on when she solved a problem. Nothing had given me as much pure satisfaction and fulfillment as those brief periods each week. It was a fortunate thing too, for having that outlet helped sustain me when I had my second mishap on the job.

It was only a couple of weeks into my tutoring of Dee Dee when it happened. I don't know if Rui was purposely testing me or if it was purely accidental, but my assignment for the eighth week involved carting around the Delancy sisters. That experience almost ended my employment.

Crystal and Summer danced as a pair. They billed themselves as sisters but that was for show. Their behavior was hardly sisterly. A few minutes in their company and I knew they got off on graphic displays and that they had very little self-control.  

Crystal was blonde, tall and willowy with a porcelain complexion. Summer was slightly shorter, had dark brown hair and was in possession of a tight body with a perpetual tan. Part of their attraction was their casual access to the other's body. 

Together they were talkative, flirty, and crude; neither knew how to keep their hands off the other, nor off anyone else in close proximity; I learned that the first time out when Crystal playfully grabbed my crotch as I held open the car door. I acted the stoic and removed it without a word but this only encouraged them. I could see them snickering through the rear view mirror as we pulled off so I continued to ignore them.

During the first gig I was on guard as both made a point to rub their hands across every male organ in the room. The guys, mostly firemen, who were there for a bachelor party, took the girls' actions in stride. I knew we had stayed on the right side of the line when I saw the generosity lavished on the two.

The next contract was a divorce party for a 30-something. Our client was the soon to be ex sister of the guest of honor. I was curious to dig into their story, but something told me I would have my hands full with my own ladies. For whatever reason, the Delancy's were psyched for the show. 

Earlier they had donned various poses as they pretended to be going down on one another. At this party they weren't pretending. Crystal crawled backwards into our guy's lap grinding her ass into his obvious erection. As she leaned back, Summer crawled near; removed Crystal's g-string and spread her labia.

It took me a moment to recognize that someone, probably Summer, had turned off the music. You could have heard a fly fart. As Summer's tongue made contact with her bald pussy Crystal lunged and our guy grunted. This was no act. Summer was feasting on Crystal with vigor. While initially in shock, I was becoming more nervous by the second.

I surveyed the faces in the room and made an estimate of my options. If I stopped their act now, a fight would be inevitable. If I let it go and our client re-appeared the law might be called. I opted to do nothing and let the situation play out. As I was pondering next steps Crystal came.

The guys went nuts. There were hoots, applause, and numerous high-fives being passed around. I was relieved that the hostess remained absent. The Delancy's were only beginning their slide into the illegal. The kicker came when Summer unzipped our hero and proceeded to blow him while his friends urged her on. 

I kept an eye out hoping that no one else would press for the same attention. Truth was, I was more concerned that the ladies might themselves solicit services. Simulated sex acts between dancers were frowned upon. Sex with a client was absolutely forbidden. This obviously did not bother Summer. She achieved her goal in record time as the stunned guest of honor came with a roar. 

As she ran off towards the bathroom after getting a mouthful of cum, I continued to stand immobile so as not incite the crowd further. Technically our time was up so I nodded to Crystal once her partner left the room. She at least seemed to know we were treading illegal ground. She put on her g-string and left in search of the hostess. It was her prompting that got us out of there quickly. 

In all, we were a good twenty minutes late leaving that party. Fortunately, it was the last contract of the evening. The 'sisters' were laughing as they took seats. I had had enough. They had put all of us in jeopardy by their antics. I quickly started the car moving us into traffic. 

Several blocks later we were on the expressway. It was a little after 2am and the traffic was slight so I slowed down. A quick peek in the rear showed Summer removing a small vial from her purse. That's all it took.

"That better not be what I think it is. If it is I'll drop you bitches off at the nearest police station." My voice was as menacing as I could make it. Crystal immediately took up the gauntlet while Summer continued trying to laugh it off.

"Listen Davey, that's your name isn't it? Just fuckin' drive. Don't speak to us, better yet don't speak at all, you're not paid to speak."

I jerked the car over to the right and into the emergency lane bringing it to a quick stop.

"Get the fuck out," I shouted. I heard some giggling so I turned fully around facing Crystal. 

I looked only in her eyes as mine became slits. "GET THE FUCK OUT NOW!!" I screamed, so loud that her partner shook in response. I moved as if unbuckling my seat belt, "Get out or I'll throw you out." 

"You're crazy! I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait for the cops", she shouted back.

"Fine bitch", I spat as I once again put the car in gear. She was right. Stopping on the highway would attract the police; so I drove off the Montgomery Avenue exit and into Fairmont Park. 

Fairmont Park is the largest imbedded city park in the world. Fully one-third of Philadelphia is green acreage. I drove those two as deep into the park as I could, looking for a more isolated place where we could reason together.

When I found the spot I pulled off the road and stopped. The door was opened in a flash. Crystal must have thought I wouldn't put my hands on her. She was mistaken. I pulled her from the car easily, picked her up and deposited her in a field about thirty feet away.

She did try to put up a fight but, well, the hold I had her in left few options to stop me. I made sure her ass hit the ground first. Then I went back to get her partner. Summer was already out of the car cowering at its side.

"Get the fuck over there." 

She complied without speaking. As she did I walked backwards to the car for a few feet, turned and then strode to my seat. "You bitches can get home on your own. I'm done with you."

It was Summer who found her voice first. Suddenly she was the leader. I should have foreseen that before. I made a note to be more careful next time. 

"No, you can't leave us here. You can't."

I started up the car and moved it away from them, then stopped. 

"Leave the drugs NOW. I don't see them on the ground in three-seconds and I'm gone."

Crystal went in her purse and threw something on the ground. She grabbed Summer's bag and they tussled for a second, then I saw her grab another object and that too went on the ground. She started running for the car. Summer, perhaps realizing she might be left behind, started running too. As soon as their door closed I took off, but not until I got out one more warning.

"I suggest you hug those seats without moving. And don't say a fucking thing, NOT A FUCKING WORD. You do and your asses will be walking home. This shit you pulled tonight will never happen again with me. We could have had a real problem with that last contract, a real fuckin' problem. Then you idiots decide to cap of the night off by getting high in my car. Un-be-fuckin-leavable."




Ardmore Pt. 02



The ride back to the club was short and the women uncharacteristically quiet. They only moved once we arrived. For my part I didn't wait for them to find their vehicle before I took off for home. It had been a long night and my adrenaline was still pumping.

Rui would probably fire me. I didn't care. That was better than being arrested for drugs or prostitution. Too many risks were taken that night, too many risks without a net. But that wasn't what kept me unnerved. It was how I behaved after the contract.

I had never put my hands on a woman before, never swore at someone like I had them. It was like watching a copy of me, a movie of some angry pimp. Was it really me? How could I have changed so easily?

When I decided to be "in role" for this job I had evidently bought in for much more than I realized. It was an unconscious transition, too subtle to be immediately alarming. Shit. What was I becoming? I thought then that I should quit, not wait for Rui, leave then. It wasn't worth it.

Later, alone in my room, I calmly reviewed my actions. I made a decision that if I ever got near to another situation like that, that I would quit. The job wasn't worth sacrificing my future. Better to forego my research paper, the credits for the course and the money than sacrifice my self-respect, and quite possibly my freedom. 

I slept poorly that night then stayed alone in my room until early afternoon. Gary was home for the weekend. While he lived in on the main Penn State campus he still made the four hour drive every few weeks to see the folks and sit for Sunday dinner. He was also seeing a girl who attended school nearby.

That Sunday I went over to see him. After saying my hellos to the family we made our way to the family room downstairs. I filled him in on the basics of my new job. Adrienne, as was her habit, was listening in on the conversation but pretending to be occupied with a book. 

"Lit was wondering why you haven't been over the last couple of months." Gary said while glancing quickly over at his sister, obviously annoyed at being mentioned.

"Yeah, well I didn't want tell you in case the job didn't work out," I said.

Gary was smiling at that. "Not work out? You're a, what did they call you, a footman? Sounds like a roving bouncer or bodyguard to me. But dude, you get to see three shows a night. How could this NOT work out? How much are they paying you?"

"Eight bucks an hour." I answered. 

"Wow, not bad. Look if you ever need someone to sub for you..."

"Sounds dangerous," added Adrienne, suddenly wanting to enter the discussion.

"Not really, even though the crowd can get a little worked up, it's mostly loud and noisy, but that's to be expected. Overall, it's actually pretty tame. The guys know they aren't allowed to touch the ladies and they pretty much behave. I sometimes wish the ladies knew as much." 

There was probably some undertone in my voice that Gary picked up on. He asked why I mentioned that so I told them what had happened with the Delancys. As soon as I finished, a feeling of relief washed over me. Somehow I needed to tell them my story. Absolution was sought; the tonic required of all good Catholics.

After a short pause, Gary spoke first. "I don't know why you're beating yourself up over this. I would have done the same thing. I certainly wouldn't drive those two again. They're bad news. I am surprised that you took such a tough stand. I know you buddy. You are usually such a softy when it comes to women."

I was about the jump on Gary about that 'softy' comment when Adrienne cut in.

She left little doubt she was upset with me. 

"How can you want to make money like this? Look at you. You look like a Yul Brenner impersonator. And how could you do that to those girls? It's bad enough that you drive them around, now you've joined the people exploiting them."

"C'mon Lit, lighten up. He said he picked her up, that's all. You make it sound like David is some kind of thug."

"A pimp is more like it," she said as she got up from her seat.

"Well that shows what you know", I shot at her back. "The ladies are not exploited. They are the ones in control. They decide what actions to take and they get paid well. I'd bet many earn more than the owner. This might be the only business where women definitely are the highest paid. As a feminist you should understand that, maybe when you're older you will." 

As expected I saw her turn and her eyes momentarily flare up then narrow. She was still sensitive about put downs of her age. She stormed off without another word.

"What's wrong with her? I've never seen her so judgmental."

"Let it go," Gary reminded me. "She's jealous of you being around all those naked women."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just kidding. Look, she'll get over it, and I was serious if you ever need someone to sub for you some night call me. By the way, do you have any pictures?"

With Adrienne gone we reverted back to man-talk. I told Gary about several of my more notable experiences. He kept shaking his head and begging me to take him along one night, or at least introduce him to some of my coworkers.

By the end of the evening I was feeling much better about my job, though I did regret the earlier blowup at Adrienne. When I thought it over, I realized I could have mentioned my tutoring of Dee Dee. That would have softened her, but then again, I would have felt wrong using my tutoring as a get out of jail free card. If Adrienne didn't know me by now no amount of public relations would help.

Arriving at work the next week I was relieved that nothing was said about my confrontation with the Delancys. It was like no one knew what happened but the three of us. I drove them that week without incident. At the end of our last contract Crystal attempted to engage me in conversation. I ignored her, dropping them off again at the front of the Club. Before I could leave she went around the front of the car and approached my open window, envelope in hand.

She gently tossed it onto my lap and left. With these women I was taking no chances. Before I took off I looked inside to see what she had given me. I found two hundred dollars clipped to a small note. "What we owe" was all it said. Whatever the reason for the payment, the envelope went in the glove compartment without comment. I should have been happy, but all I could think of was my argument with Adrienne.

The next night I caught up with Albert. I had made it a habit to stop by and see him at the start of my shift, partly out of respect for him getting me the job, but also to hear the latest gossip. Being a footman was proving to be an isolating experience, yet another unintended consequence of the job.

"Yo Dave. Hold a minute", Albert said as he ducked inside the door leaving me standing alone. He was gone but a minute, returning with my dispatch sheet for the night as well as a large brown envelope. "Merry Christmas" came as he handed them to me. I looked inside then back at him. My face must have betrayed my confusion.

"Your commission pardna'. The ladies wanted to convey their apologies. It's normally due after each contract. I don't know why, but for some reason they held it up for two months. It's all there though, less the Delancy's obligation of course. At thirty a contract you're a rich man." 

I was somewhat confused. He stood there chuckling at my expense. I wanted to ask some questions but he was interrupted by the night manager. When he left I walked over to the car in a daze. 

I absentmindedly reviewed my dispatch sheet. The first job of the evening was a small 40th birthday party. Since the wife was our client, I expected a rather controlled crowd. Still deep in thought, I opened the door for my passenger without really looking at her. I only took note that she was tall and thankfully, alone. 

After the Delancy 'sisters' it was a reprieve to have a solo act. With this passenger, I was purposely being detached. I briefly looked at her face before closing the door and starting the car. 

My lady tonight was named Alexis. She had taken her seat with a grace that mildly intrigued me. When I saw her through my rear view mirror I knew she was, well in a word, gorgeous. I've only used that adjective three times in my life; the first time was in reference to her. There are some women you see that can best be described as too pretty. They never seem to fit no matter what setting you place them. Alexis was one of those women. You wanted to ask, "What's a girl like you…?"

"Keep your eyes on the road Mr. Martens." She said in a businesslike manner. I detected an accent but couldn't place it. It was southern, yet it wasn't. And she knew my name!

"Yes ma'am" was my only answer.

The schedule for tonight was different in a number of respects. For one thing, Alexis was my only passenger for all three engagements. We were looking at an hour booking at 8pm and another at 10:00pm and a third at midnight. For one dancer to accept all three contracts would be exhausting. I was looking forward to see how she handled herself.

I don't remember much of her act during the first contract. I was too caught up with one drunk who heckled her through most of the gig. The guy was basically our host's problem. I learned later that he was also her nephew. He disrupted the night so that none of us could enjoy the show. The second contract was a return to normality.

After setting up the music, I moved to the rear of the room, standing erect as a palace guard, my hands folded in front, my eyes forward, surveying the audience and looking for threats without expression. It was imperative that I convey the idea of being potentially dangerous without being intimidating. To pull that off, only Alexis would speak while we were 'in role'. 

I could not help but watch as she danced. This was my first real opportunity to see her in her work clothes. She was older than my previous passengers, taller than most, with long curvaceous legs. Those attributes as well as her bust line made her look like a Las Vegas showgirl. But it wasn't only her body that was memorable. The woman was stunning, with jet black hair and pale blue eyes with a stare that was almost hypnotic. 

When she danced in that Wonder Woman costume, you would have thought that Lynda Carter herself was in the room. Not a male there was unaffected, including me. I kept stealing glances at my zipper to make sure my hands were clasped in front because my pants were being stretched with each step she took.

She had the posture of a ballerina packaged in a 35-23-34 figure standing 5 feet 9 inches (I later read her published bio from the club). Her body was toned without being muscular. Even her heels stated her purpose as they forced her breasts outward and gave further definition to her legs. 

The silkiest hair I had ever seen rippled and flowed with each move of her torso. When she gave our 'birthday boy' his lap dance his legs actually began shaking as her butt dragged across lap. I thought he was going to pop at any moment. 

Then she rose up, and bent over so that her hair brushed across his face. The entire crowd heard him exhale as if he had been afraid to breathe. 

I would gladly have traded places with him at that moment. This would be a party he would long remember. The Mrs. would probably remember it too; if the bulge in hubby's pants was any indication, she was in for a very, very long night.

I straightened myself up while Alexis changed in the bathroom. I was struggling to look unaffected after her performance. Our last contract was a bachelor party. Within moments of her entrance I was again having difficulty playing the role of the stoic bodyguard. Like all the other men, I too was fantasizing about her, about snatching her up and ravaging her on the living room floor. 

How would those legs feel wrapped around me? How would those tits feel pressed against my chest? How soft were those lips? Would she be a tigress in the throes of her orgasm or would she merely be compliant?

A small smile began forming on my face. It was to last less than a minute for there was at least one other male caught up in the fantasy, only he decided to capture his on film. A couple of his friends were speaking with him. Reluctant to let go the camera, I casually moved to his side.

I felt for the guy. I really did. I wanted Alexis on film too, but cameras were a definite no-no at this bachelor party. Every so often someone had to test the theory, put the man-rule to a vote. This fool tested the theory and lost. I got the camera and destroyed the film. All was done quickly and quietly without anyone being aware of a dispute.

"What's your first name Mr. Martens?" my passenger said as we were leaving.

"David ma'am."

"Well David you did well tonight. You exercised discretion." 

That was all she said for the rest of the trip. I dropped her off at her car in the Club's lot, carefully opening her door then waiting for her to startup her vehicle. In later times, I was to give her door-to-door service to and from her apartment, but that night my last pleasure came from watching her gracefully walk away. 

It was months before Alexis would ask me another question, before we had an actual conversation. Our vocabulary up until then was limited mainly to 'yes', 'no' and 'thank you'. Fortunately for me, my lack of a relationship with Alexis had little impact on my academic performance. 

My on the job interviews became the basis for a set of very well received research papers and an 'A' for Sociology. With a growing self-confidence I negotiated a similar deal with my economics professor for his summer course.

By then I was completing 9 contracts a week making over $ 400 for 3 nights work. While not rich, by most standards I was doing very well. I had relatively few expenses, was still living at home, and paying token rent. My tuition was covered by grants, loans, and my earnings. 

I studied hard during the day while my work schedule overlapped the prime dating hours on the weekends. My coffers kept expanding. In short, I had no expenditures for my social life since I had no social life. 

Chapter 8: Falling for bad company and other friends

I continued to harbor some irritation at Adrienne for treating me like dust under her feet. She didn't mean to, I knew that, and we were closer than her words might have suggested, but I wasn't going to be the one to make nice. My pride would not allow it. 

I did miss her though. Her absence became particularly acute on Sundays, so where I would have normally had dinner with her I recast that time to allow more sessions with Dee Dee. Even after I finished tutoring in June I continued to avoid my friend. 

Her birthday was in early July and I did send a card. Normally it would have been contained with a gift but that would have said too much, likewise, it would have been unforgivable if I ignored the day and sent nothing. 

Our stalemate lasted only until mid-July because Adrienne was less pigheaded than me. As was my habit, I read my mail immediately upon returning home from school. Few items were ever expected; certainly it was a time before bills became part of my daily routine. Of the two pieces for me one was obviously junk mail while the larger appeared to hold a card, a birthday card. This was unusual in one respect; my birthday was in February, five months before. 

When the card was opened two small strips of paper fell out. They were tickets, a pair for the Phillies versus the Reds playing at the end of the month. Without reading the inscription I knew the author.

Lit. Only Lit loved the game as much as I. This was her way of saying she was sorry. Ignoring what she had written, I immediately reached for the phone.

"Hello," came the voice I hoped to hear first.

"Thank you for the tickets, but it's not my birthday."

"It's not? Funny, I thought it was. Well, I'm early for the next one then."

There was a slight apprehension in her voice though she was trying to mask it.

"This creates a problem. I don't know who I can give the other ticket to."

"I'd love to, what time do you want to leave for the park?" she added quickly.

"Whoa girl, aren't we the confident one? How do you know I would ask you? What about Ari? I don't want to get in between you two."

"I've already discussed it with him. He's OK with it. Besides he doesn't much care for baseball. What time do you want to leave?" 

"I'll pick you up about five. I'll bet Ari doesn't know about you and Concepcion?"

The delicate tone of her laughter filled the phone. For I knew Lit had fallen in love with the Reds shortstop when she was eleven. We teased her for years until he won his first MVP title and she gained the upper hand. Now that crush was our inside joke (a bound between friends). 

We talked for another hour after that, me catching up on her life, her carefully moving around mine. No explicit apology was ever stated, nor asked for. By the end we knew that all was forgiven as if we had never had a disagreement.

How long can you harbor a grudge against your little sister? I did not ever want to experiment with that question. Lit was my family in all respects save blood. If there was one lesson Papa had ingrained into my bones it was that family was everything.

Wednesday my last class ended at 11am. That left all of the afternoon until the start of the game, a good part of which I used to wash, wax and clean the interior of my car. When I finished it sparkled like new. 

I was so engrossed with the cleaning that I had barely enough time to shower before I picked up Adrienne. She must have been looking out for me for she came bounding out of the house as I parked.

With a twinkle in her eye, she paused to look over my work as I held the door for her.

"Nice job. What's the occasion?"

"It's my birthday", I replied without hesitation. 

We took off towards the stadium. When we stopped for the first light I slyly glanced over her way, that's when I saw the baseball glove in her lap. I must have missed it when I saw her carrying her jacket.

"I see we have high hopes for this evening", I said with my eyebrow arching while looking at her hands.

"You didn't bring your glove? Oh well." 

Her smile was little too smug. Luckily we were stopped at a light. On a hunch, I pulled the tickets from my shirt pocket. They looked real, and then I saw the price. Funny I hadn't noticed it before. At that point a car horn from our rear broke my concentration. As we resumed our journey I had to ask.

"Where are our seats tonight?" 

"The third base line…above the Red's dugout."

"No way, I can't accept these Adrienne. This is too much money. I'm working; you're not, so I'll treat."

"I have savings and I want to do this." Her face had a pleading quality to it, and that did me in.

"OK, but only if I pay for my ticket."

"No."

I cleared my throat to voice my final objection. There was nothing else to say. The matter was closed. I would find another way to repay her generosity. After that I concentrated on getting us a parking space.

Looking beyond our trip there, I really had a great time with her at the game. I'd forgotten how well we got along when we were alone; how she could make me laugh at the silliest things, like the way she got excited when Concepcion ran on the field, even how she ate her popcorn, all of it . 

For the first time in more than a year I was out with a girl and I was totally relaxed. I got to enjoy her company without constantly looking out for danger. Well almost.

The game was a pitching duel up until the fourth inning. In the bottom of the fourth Luzinksi hit a line shot to short. Concepcion rose like a rocket to pluck it out of the air and while airborne fired to second in time to catch Johnstone attempting steal. It was a classic maneuver that changed the tenor of the game.




Ardmore Pt. 02



I slid back in my seat groaning as Adrienne leaped to her feet in wild applause. If I were mildly surprised the others around us were caught completely off guard by her unbridled enthusiasm. From that point on she was a human firecracker, going off repeatedly while the Reds pressed their advantage.

As the Phillies' hopes went south I took pleasure in watching my friend enjoy herself. That wasn't the only pleasure I had. Come the sixth inning she left to go to the ladies room and I had to stand to let her pass. As she reached the aisle I found myself taking more than a few seconds to admire the view. She certainly had a way of filling out her jeans. I hoped Ari appreciated how lucky he was. 

Evidently, I was not her only admirer; a guy in the row in front had the same idea. No words were exchanged, but I made sure he felt uncomfortable by the way I glared at him later.

Within minutes of her return my mood changed for the better and I managed to enjoy the remainder of the game, which incidentally the Reds won. Soto held the Phillies to just 3 hits while they pounded us with 11 runs. 

From the stadium we were off to Pat's for a couple of cheesesteaks. Regardless of the lateness of the hour, we were both famished. Adrienne virtually inhaled her sandwich in between recounting the highlights of 'her' victory. 

I got her home close to midnight. By then she was huddled up to me in the front seat content with the closeness of our bodies. I on the other had had trouble coming to grips with her obvious display of affection. I had wanted to rebuild our friendship, not intrude on her relationship with Ari. I couldn't tell if she felt the same, particularly when she hugged me goodnight before disappearing inside.

I took part of the next afternoon to pick up my tux. The rental shop had sold me a used one as a backup. After a few alterations, all that remained was for me to try it on and pass the final payment.

On the way out I quite literally ran into Gary. When he recognized me I saw he had that preoccupied look that I knew from experience meant only one thing; he was on a mission and the quarry was likely female.

"Hey Gary, what's your rush? Who's the babe?"

He turned slightly, one eye on the counter, then back at me.

"…Fund raiser at the Ritz. By the way, thanks for taking Lit to game last night. She really needed to cut loose a little."

"She took me, and she paid for the tickets, it didn't take much persuading." I laughed.

"Either way, the folks and I thank you."

"Why? What's going on?"

Gary's forehead was wrinkled as he began to speak. "Lit's been too wound up with the shelter recently. One of the women she was close to was badly beaten by her boyfriend a few weeks ago. Somehow, she thinks she's partially responsible. She wasn't there when he got in because she and the folks were out on a tour of Rosemont (College)."

"Anyway, when she got back she found out and went on a guilt trip, told the folks she wasn't going to college, she wanted to work full time at the shelter after high school. Mom was upset, tried to talk to her, but you know Lit, she thinks she's responsible to save the world."

"Finally Dad had to pull rank; luckily she won't challenge him and he knows it. She's been in a funk ever since, that is until yesterday."

It was like Gary was talking about a whole different person. Adrienne never mentioned any of this. She gave me the impression that she was totally involved in the game…and me. She was hurting and completely hid it from me. We had been bantering back and forth in jest the entire evening. Maybe I should have kept quiet and listened to her. 

"What about Ari?" I asked, almost as an afterthought.

"He's useless." Spat Gary. "I tried talking with him. He knew less than I did, acted like I was bothering him with my questions."

Gary turned again to look at the counter. We were the only ones in the store yet he was anxious to get going. I made a mental note to see Adrienne on the weekend. It was a good time to change the subject.

"The Ritz huh?" I said looking over at the display area. "Who twisted your arm?"

"Giselle." 

"Giselle? Not Giselle Trudeau? You're kidding right? You and Giselle? I thought that was a one time trial, how…? 

"David, don't say it. Trust me on this; she's changed since high school, well not the looks anyway. She's still a stone fox, but she's grown up, and…I like her. I like her a lot."

"OK buddy, you would know better than me. Congratulations", I said extending my hand, for I meant it. 

We had both grown up with Giselle. Never really friends, our lives intersected for years. By the time we entered high school Giselle was unquestionably the prettiest girl in the senior class. She was also Brenda's unspoken rival, and known as the most unavailable girl in school. The 'princess', we used to call her.

Her father was a prominent banker in town and the Trudeaus were part of the wealthier class in our community. Rumors had it that only her mother's influence kept Giselle in public school, but outside of class she hung out with kids from the private academies that littered the area. She also appeared to have a thing for older guys.

I was the only member of the wrestling team that had not tried to date her; everyone else made the attempt at one time or another. Me, I was too much into Brenda to give Giselle a second thought. With Giselle you didn't just crash and burn you disintegrated. The chick was as cold as ice. 

Needless to say, none of our friends had gotten to first base, until now. A couple years ago this would have been the talk of the class and Gary would be everyone's hero. Today I wondered why he was chasing her; certainly it wasn't for lack of female companionship. 

I recalled a recent conversation with Serena. She had introduced me to the concept of the 'princess syndrome', that tendency we have to associate beauty with goodness and morality. We all have a bias towards pretty women and handsome men. The bias appears to be part of human nature, integral to our survival instinct.

Exotic dancers exploit that bias in men knowing that a surprising number will fantasize about turning them into perfect little housewives. The men presume that the prettier the woman the nicer they are, or the sweeter they are and the more desirable. Male criminals have been known to exploit that cultural bias too, hence the number of serial killers with movie star looks. 

I thought Gary was too experienced to be blinded by Giselle's physical attributes, but then again I didn't know her, certainly not recently. If he saw something in her then she couldn't be as bad as I thought. But then again, he tended to see the good in everyone. 

I put their relationship to the back of my mind, trusting him to handle it. Adrienne's situation was much more troubling because she had not trusted me enough to tell of her problem. It would not be appropriate to confront her with what I knew. If she needed to talk I'd be there. 

Not wanting to delve any deeper into my feelings about her actions I settled for having our relationship repaired and redoubled my efforts in school. I aced every summer course that year. My outlook for the most part was expansive. The only regret I had came from a questionable relationship wasn't a relationship at all, the one with Alexis. It rankled me that we remained so formal. Her attitude wasn't openly hostile but the effect was the same.

Through the summer months she and I had been sharing more engagements. By September she was my only passenger most Saturday nights, though the familiarity between us had not led to a thawing of the atmosphere. Alexis was still all business with me and I reciprocated in kind.

I'm not sure what I wanted from her. Was it respect? No. Was it friendship? Maybe. Was it sex? Certainly I had to dismiss that last thought as pure fantasy. She was a walking wet dream but there was no warmth from the woman. Besides, she was much too old for me. I was only a kid to her. But what did I know about her? I tried to think clinically.

Alexis was almost thirty, eleven years my senior. She survived in a job where the average age was twenty-two. Her dancing career had lasted over seven years; this when the typical dancer lasted just past two. Could these facts account for her aloofness around me?

Her career was probably ending. Why else give up the big money of the stage for the relative pittance from outcall work? Did she miss the attention? Was jealousy of the younger women driving her, or was it a fear of losing the money, or losing control? Perhaps, just perhaps, it was none of the above that explained her attitude. Maybe she just didn't like me? 

I was thinking all that one night in September during a gig. It was a contract at a frat house and I hated those deals. The boys were my age and normally too drunk to appreciate the show. Of those that did, there was always a fool or two who needed the rules re-explained as well as others who wanted to challenge me. I avoided getting physical but arguments were not uncommon and furthermore, the tips were poor. Why someone like Alexis would agree to do these shows I would never understand. 

Possibly she agreed because she wanted me to be uncomfortable, I mused. What a paranoid and silly observation. I smiled at the thought. Oddly enough I was glancing at Alexis when it happened. Our eyes locked, if only for a second. It might have been my imagination but her performance seemed to pick up from that point, becoming more passionate than usual. 

She moved with catlike assurance. She knew the arch of her back was just deep enough to accentuate her heart shaped ass. Each swing of her hips was perfectly timed, those legs toned so well that I could see the definition of each calf coordinated in every step. Not many dancers can affect such passion in a French Maid's outfit, but Alexis was a professional. 

She twirled then went down on all fours crawling to the chair placed for her benefit. As she slithered up the seat I sensed movement from my rear. My concentration was interrupted by a sudden commotion. I could hear from the talk that it was nothing that required my attention but I instinctively moved sideways anyway. My instincts proved correct for it was then that one of the brothers lost his lunch making me the unfortunate recipient of bile that caught parts of my cuff and shoe. 

"Well isn't that special?" I said under my breath (or so I thought). Several of the brothers nearby started laughing; others were busy dragging their soused comrade from the room. Me, I looked at my watch noting that the show was almost over and I would have time to clean off the mess while Alexis changed.

Sometime later we were driving back to Xanadu, my mind focused on my foresight in having gotten another tux in anticipation of this potential mishap. I was so engrossed that I almost didn't hear the comments of my passenger. I came back to the moment upon hearing my name.

"Mr. Martens?"

"Sorry ma'am, I missed what you were saying."

"I see that. Do you have time for a cup of coffee before we get back? There's something I want to discuss with you."

Brain lock gripped me. Alexis was speaking directly to me! I was at a loss as how to respond. 

"Ah mmm, sure, we could do that. Is there any particular place?"

My eyes remained forward, afraid to look through the rear view mirror.

"How far is the Melrose Diner?" 

"We can be there in ten." I said, sounding alert. I gave the car gas, bobbing and weaving through traffic. Broad Street was stop and go all the way but we managed get to Snyder Avenue in under ten minutes.

Getting out first I held the restaurant door and hoped she hadn't seen my hands shaking. Truth was, I was hungry, not having had diner that night, but my appetite was quickly being overruled by my anxiety from being there with her.

We quickly found seats. The place was half full. Not bad for 1:30 in the morning.

I guess I was spending so much time surveying the restaurant because it delayed looking directly at Alexis. Taking a deep breath I looked her square in the eyes and smiled. Yeah, I smiled. The biggest, dumbest, goofiest smile I had in me. 

Alexis, woman that she was, took it all in nonplused. She was undoubtedly used to that reaction from men.

"Serena says you are a math tutor. How is your proficiency with trigonometry?"

"All this for a tutoring job?" I thought. Remembering to blink was a problem yet I did manage to recover my voice. 

"I'm fine with Trig. It's not something I enjoy, but then again I'm not planning on being an engineer either. Why? You're taking a course?"

"No", Alexis urged, moving her hand back and forth in front to emphasize the point. "It's not me, it's my niece. She's twelve and having some difficulties. I'd like to get her some help early."

"Did you say twelve? That's like what, sixth grade? Wow! I was in high school when I took Trigonometry. She must be very bright."

"She is" Alexis confirmed, though her eyes were much softer as we spoke of her.

Thus began our conversation. My appetite returned soon thereafter. I listened mainly over an omelet, pancakes and sausage. Forget my earlier fears, at nineteen food WAS the best sedative. 

We agreed on a few things. I was to tutor her niece, whose name was Sydney, for a couple of hours Tuesday evenings. She offered and I accepted the same rate I'd given Dee Dee. 

For the chance to be around Alexis, to really get to know her, I would have done it for free seven nights a week! That I saw past those pale blue eyes long enough to even gain a fee was a major accomplishment.

When we had concluded our negotiations she leaned forward with one final request. "Hmmm, there's one more thing I need to mention. I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak about what I do around Sydney. I haven't kept that from her, but we don't talk about my job at home. So…"

"Sure, no problem", I answered. "Since we're on the subject, you better tell me your real name, you know, for when we're around her. That is unless it really is Alexis."

She gave me a soft smile before answering. "No, it's not Alexis, its Cassandra, Cassandra Austenberry; but at home I'm Cassie."

"May I ask you one other question?"

"Of course."

"I can tell by your accent that you're from the South. Serena bet I'd never guess where, and I haven't. What state?"

Alexis giggled, nodding slowly. "So she tricked you with that one did she? I'll tell, you. I'm from a little town named Melber in Kentucky." 

I never would have guessed. There was a brief pause before she added, "Now let's get out of here."

That night I had trouble sleeping. I went over and over again the last conversation, amazed to have come so far so fast. For months this woman was a mystery, and then in one brief talk she became real. Why did she affect me like that? What did I want from her? I struggled with those questions until sleep overcame me.



Ardmore Pt. 03



This is part 3 of a 4 part story. There is virtually no sex in this story. Your comments, good or bad, are always welcome.

Chapter 9: Awakenings

I awoke the next day to sounds of laughter coming from downstairs. Ordinarily, I would have gone back to sleep but I recognized the voices of several of my sisters so I rushed to get ready to join them; it was either that or wait to be accosted by my young nieces and nephews.

In the kitchen were my mother, and my sisters Gina, Gloria and Julia along with my niece. Gina and Gloria I saw frequently. Gina had moved out earlier in the year but seemed to think that our refrigerator was an extension of her own. We saw more of her now after moving than the last year she lived at home. Gloria came by every couple of weeks. 

But it was Julia whom I missed most. We had not seen her since the spring, though she talked often by phone with us. As hugs were exchanged she ran her hand across the back of my head. I expected some razzing about my cue ball, particularly from her. I told her when I shaved my head and she had seen it earlier, but this was her way of kidding me. 

"Where are the boys?" I asked, trying to deflect conversation away from my baldness. While the women in my family were raucous when they were together, that noise could not compete with my five-year old nephews. They were inquisitive dynamos and dangerous around breakables.

"Chris and Papa took them to Philly. They were going to the Franklin Institute for the day. Maria here wanted to stay with her mommy." She added that while holding onto my youngest niece, a four-year old charmer who was a younger version of her mother. 

True to form, the child ran up to me, fascinated with my shiny head. She and I were friends but hadn't seen each other in months. As I lifted her to my embrace she brushed her fingers across my dome, stroking it like she had never seen such a thing; much to the delight of my mother and sisters. Chalk one up to the ineligible player.

There were still some missing little people. I turned to Gloria and asked, "Where are your munchkins?" 

"Howard has them at the zoo", she answered, as if pleased with herself. I caught sight of a fleeting frown from Julia when it was said. I steered clear of that topic and began tickling little Maria.

After that, I settled into the previous conversation, catching up on Julia's life. It was a welcome change from some of my adventures. I was also pleased that Papa had finally accepted Chris and was making every effort to integrate him into the family.

My father rarely made mistakes about people, but when it came to his family he was undoubtedly overprotective, in this case to the point of cultivating an irrational bias. Regardless of how Chris looked in his scruffy beard and torn jeans while courting Julia, and forgetting his supposed 'bad' reputation, Papa had to admit that he was a man who commanded respect.

Chris and Julia were well mated. She blossomed in their marriage, and with her love he matured beyond any of my father's expectations. Defying Papa's predictions Chris joined the police force in Salisbury, MD, acquired a degree at night and fathered Papa's first grandchildren. He had risen to Sergeant and was twice decorated for valor. But long before that, early in their marriage, Papa admitted to both he and Julia that he had been wrong to prejudge him. 

I had never heard of Papa doing such a thing, and I told him so. He shocked me, telling me no man was too big to admit his error, too prideful to allow a lie to harm his family. That day I learned what respect was, and how strong a feeling it became when mixed with love.

While we were talking, the doorbell rang. By some unseen agreement I was expected to see who it was. I opened the door and there stood Adrienne. All she said was "Hi", which I returned. I had not expected her and that, plus the way she was dressed caught my attention. 

It was unseasonably warm that September and Adrienne was wearing pink blouse with a mid calf floral print skirt. The skirt accentuated her hips and showed just enough leg to make a man take notice. 

I guess I stared a little too long for she caught me checking her out. I had never unconsciously done that before. It made for an awkward moment, until I discovered my voice. "So what brings you out this morning?" I said, trying not to sound too sheepish.

She must have decided to let me off the hook for she did not hesitate in her answer. "Julia invited me to go shopping with your sisters...and she's also going to help me look for a prom dress."

"You're shopping for a prom dress in September? Isn't that a little early?" 

"David, please go study or something that is unless you want to come with us?"

I recognized that statement as coming from Julia who had moved behind me. I hadn't heard her approach but her tone made it sound like I had asked a rather dumb question.

"I probably won't buy anything, but I do want to get a look", answered Adrienne.

"What cute shoes!" came from my sister Gloria who had also arrived on the scene.

That told me it was my time to leave. How anyone could spend more than two seconds discussing shoes was beyond me. Only little Maria seemed immune to that topic and in a few years she too would be fawning over a 'cute' pair of pumps.

But that would be a worry for another day; today Maria was following me around as I went looking for my old trigonometry texts. I would need to have a number of different references in order to solve the problems. Between my textbooks and old notes I would be prepared for Sydney. 

Of course Maria was talking the entire time. She was deep in the process of telling me about her friend's sleepover. The conversation was mainly one-sided. Every so often I would get in a question, but Maria was so serious that my delight came from seeing how intense and animated she was in retelling her story.

Even at nineteen I knew that I loved little ones. They were fascinating: so fresh, hopeful and innocent. Coming from a large family you might think that I did not one for myself. Quite the opposite, I loved children and wanted a houseful. 

Part of reasoning came from the fact that all of my younger nieces and nephews gravitated towards me when they visited. I was the 'fun' uncle, the one not afraid of being silly with them or listening with unwavering concentration to their stories. Today, decades later, there is nothing that can so quickly give me a feeling of well-being, of contentment, as the laughter of children. 

Sometime later Adrienne came into the room. By then Maria had found a book she wanted me to read for her. I say wanted, but actually Maria plopped herself in my lap, book in hand, demanding that I read to her. What could I do? My prior plans were put on hold as we read together.

That is how Adrienne found us, immersed in the story, Maria staring pensively at the pages. 

"Maria, your mother wants you. We are getting ready to go." Said Adrienne as she watched the child take up her book, place it on the table and then scramble off to the kitchen. 

My Trig book had been casually tossed on the adjoining table and was now under the child's story. Adrienne was caught temporarily watching Maria leave. Once gone, she turned back to me and lifted the thin book to see what we had been reading. 

"Nancy Drew?" She asked. Her brow furrowed in the question. "Isn't she a little young for this?"

"Not the way I read it", I replied smirking. She then scanned the book under it noting it was a math text. "Did she like that one too?"

"Very funny. I originally came in here looking for one of my old textbooks. I have a tutoring job coming up this week."

"You're tutoring?" She asked, looking at me as if I had grown a second head.

"Yeah, a relative of one of my coworkers needs help in Trig." 

"Oh" was all Adrienne said. I could tell she wanted to ask something else but held her question. "I better get going. See you tomorrow?" 

"Sure, and don't take any of Gloria's suggestions. She doesn't know what 'spend wisely' means. You won't have any money left if you listen to her."

Adrienne smiled before heading out and leaving me alone.

I reviewed my old notes over the next few days before meeting with Sydney. Cassie had given me her address, wanting to have the sessions there as opposed to the main library branch downtown I suggested. Remembering my experience with Dee Dee, I was initially uncomfortable going to her home but agreed nonetheless.

She lived in Northeast Philadelphia, way up the boulevard near the county line. I turned into a tree lined street much like my own. Most of the block was single family dwellings with the exception of a long two story brick building at the corner. That building was where Cassie lived.

There were three mailboxes in the vestibule. The first was for C. Austenberry, which I rang without hesitation. Cassie must have been me walk up for I was buzzed in immediately.

She met me on the first floor. Hers was the front apartment. She was wearing what looked to be a navy blue business suit. Her hair was styled differently than when she worked but she was no less attractive. If I thought she was preparing me for another role in her apartment that idea was confirmed when she brought me in for a huge embrace. Upon crossing their threshold I met her niece.

You could see the family resemblance. Sydney was around five-seven or so, a bit taller than your typical twelve-year old. Like Cassie, her hair was long and flowed gracefully over her shoulders. There was the same wide mouth and high cheekbones and those serious pale blue eyes.

The presence of glasses separated her from her aunt. Under no circumstances would you mistake her for anything other than a kid, her catholic girls uniform would see to that. But for a teenager her mannerisms and speech were those of someone much older.

She was however, a bit stiff in her greeting. I shared her apprehension and didn't try to engage her too long in the introduction; instead diverting my eyes to the furnishings of their apartment. 

The place was open with ceilings higher than I first thought. The windows ran floor to ceiling and light filtered softly across the room. The furnishings reminded me of my sister Gloria's place. Gloria was into the ultra modern look, and evidently so was Cassie. It was a style my sister Julia said was not designed for children, not for boys anyway. My only concern was that I might have a problem sitting for long periods in her chairs.

Sydney and I got down to business almost immediately, working in what looked to be a den converted from the third bedroom. It took but a few minutes for me to pickup on the reason for the young girl's hesitation. The reason was her voice.

When we started talking at length it was impossible not to notice that she had a very soft speaking voice; not the fakeness of a Marilyn Monroe, but the gentle honesty and self assurance of a Jacqueline Kennedy. She was such a serious student that her voice eventually ceased to be a distraction but it did take me a few weeks.

Our first session went for two hours, a good deal of that time we spent in assessing her strengths, weaknesses, her course material and the resources we would use in subsequent meetings. The girl was sharp and the 'job' was much more fun than I had anticipated.

I assisted Sydney twice a week from September until mid-December. Our association proved to be highly successful. By her mid-term exams she had mastered the material and we all expected her to ace the course. I attempted to disengage at that point but both she and Cassie objected. Our meetings by then had become less about the course and more like friends having a visit, so it was very uncomfortable for me to continue to accept payments.

Having become more of a family friend, it became obvious to me that Cassie did not have too many of those. Aside from another female tenant in the building, a retired lady who watched Sydney while Cassie worked, I heard very little about anyone else during my visits.

Without asking, the story of how Cassie came to be a dancer came out in pieces over the course of those months. 

Cassandra Austenberry was a student athlete in high school. With hard work and shear force of will she acquired the means to go to college and was three years into a degree in nursing when she met someone I'll call Doctor Right.

At the time the good Doctor was himself a second year resident. He was handsome, wealthy, charming, self-assured, and driven. He wooed Cassandra by first ingratiating himself to her family. Eventually she fell for him and the two moved in together. She did so at the cost of her degree, which Doctor Right persuaded her to put on hold.

After a year of playing house, Doctor Right was offered a cardio internship in Philadelphia. Cassandra, when asked to accompany him, enthusiastically agreed. A wedding was discussed and she fully intended to become Mrs. Doctor Right. Six months in their new home in Philadelphia those plans took a dramatic turn. 

Cassandra's older sister and husband were tragically killed in an auto accident. They left four-year old Sydney an orphan. Cassandra's parents were in no condition physically or financially to raise a child, nor were the grand parents on the father's side.

With no other aunts or uncles one to care for her, Sydney was in danger of going into the state foster care system. Cassandra was adamant that that not happen. She stepped in and offered to provide a home. With Doctor Right's financing the legal assistance and some influence used by his family, she got custody. 

However, the move marked the beginning of the end of their engagement. It was Doctor Right's family that pushed him to be supportive. But upon Sydney's installation in the household, it became obvious Dr. Right resented having to share his space, and more importantly, his woman's attentions, with the child.

Within a few months he had kicked out the two, and Cassie was forced to move in with friends. She never said why she chose to remain in town or how exactly she came to work for Rui. I never asked. Nor did she volunteer what she felt at the time about that decision. Whatever her thinking, she became an unqualified success in the business. Now, some seven years later, she was talking about quitting.

Over the moths I learned that Cassie was the owner of the apartment building, an investment made as part of her overall "retirement" fund. Mr. Rui had some hand in the purchase, but it was unknown to what extent. Given the length of time she had worked for him I wasn't surprised that their relationship extended to other things beyond work.

That one investment led to others and got her looking towards Real Estate as a way out.

The time spent with Cassie gradually dampened one aspect of my infatuation. The more I knew of her the more I admired. I guess the fantasy was being stripped away in favor of the woman, and it in turn began to affect our working relationship. Watching her dance as a friend was very, very different then seeing her perform while we were only coworkers. 

At first my behavior began to border on some form of jealousy. I was more snappish with the clients, less tolerant of the stray remark during a gig, and more protective and aggressive in general. Cassie asked me to lighten up on several occasions. I never created a scene but some of our shows were tense and I was the source of that tension.

My temperament carried over into other areas and relationships as well. One Sunday a week before Christmas, I snapped at Gary. It was over something trivial and I apologized almost immediately. Adrienne and Ari were nearby when it happened but Gary and I left the house before anyone else could become involved.

Outside he went straight to the point.

"Are you hung up on this woman David?"

"What do you mean? What's that got to do with anything?" I responded, knowing full well his question.

"C'mon, I'm talking about Cassie. You haven't even mentioned her name but you're acting like something's bothering you. Sounds like a woman to me and the only one we've talked about in the past is her. What gives?"

I opened up to him after that. I didn't know what my feelings were about Cassie. It was complicated. The attraction wasn't overtly sexual; those feelings had been submerged and ended months ago as I got to know her. Yet, it couldn't help but be somewhat sexual. The closest I could figure was that her dancing bothered me. It was a matter of being possessive yet it wasn't. Of course that made no sense to me but Gary went with it anyway.

"Maybe you're too close to her. You say she doesn't have many friends. You've been talking to her quite a lot haven't you?"

"We see each other usually on Saturdays...for the job. During the week we talk maybe once every couple of days. That's not that often."

Gary raised an eyebrow then paused for a while, measuring his words before he spoke. 

"What do you talk about?"

"Nothing much, things in general: our childhoods, our families, some of our plans for the future, that kind of stuff. Mostly she does the talking. She doesn't show it, but she's scared Gary. She wants to leave the business but she's unsure. You know she's studied real estate, even purchased a couple of properties, but she's afraid of making a real go of it."

"And you're going to help her how?" Gary said, looking bemused.

"Yeah, sounds crazy doesn't it? I don't know how, but somehow I know I'm going to help her move on."

"Back up my friend. You're getting in too deep. She's what, in her early thirties? 

She has more resources than you, more experience too. You're taking on a responsibility that is not yours. You can sympathize with her but beyond that you're dreaming."

"I suppose you're right, but I still can't accept it. It's been bothering me for months."

"I thought you weren't going to get personally involved with these women? Whatever happened to 'being detached'?

I couldn't look at him when he said that. Over the year, that detachment went out the window as I sought the only intimacy available to me, or so Serena had said earlier when she and I had a similar conversation. Still I needed to tell him.

"They talk to me. Not just Cassie, all of them. It was a research project when we started. It really was, or at least I thought it was. But you can't restrict the talk to only the business. When we're alone in the car they tell me their problems. I mainly just listen, but sometimes..."

Gary sat there silent as I explained how I had managed to get myself so entangled in my passengers lives. Part of what I told him was a revelation to me too. It was surprising to both of us how much I knew, how much of the minutiae of their lives lived in my memories of them.

Somehow I had not dared look at some of my actions from another perspective. These women were more than co-workers, and that was the problem; their status was unclear. Were they friends? That answer came quickly. They were, and it was the cost of that friendship that was the real concern.

Nothing was settled that night, though I had a lot to think about. For all of my encouragement of Cassie, it came to me that I too might have a hard time leaving the business.

Chapter 10: Two Degrees of Freedom 

In February I received a call from Albert asking me to come in a few hours earlier than the beginning of my shift. It was a nasty day out, cold with yesterday's snow still on the ground. When I arrived Albert barely gave me time to remove my coat before ushering me into the employee lounge. 

Albert and I normally exchanged some minor ribbing when we met. Not this time. That day he was all business. My stomach started doing flip flops. I fully expected Rui to be waiting to sack me. I couldn't think of anything I had done wrong, except maybe my attitude recently, but why else would I be a witness to Albert's somber secrecy?




Ardmore Pt. 03



Acceptance of my fate overtook me as I walked along the corridor. It had been a good run these last thirteen months. I had successfully completed over 450 contracts and my tuition money for the next three semesters was sitting in the bank. If I left at that moment I would still be ahead; it wasn't about the money.

The huge double doors swung open and I heard those words said too often during my contracts.

"Surprise!! Happy Birthday!!"

My legs almost failed me as my mind adjusted to the change of fortune. What a relief it was to find that I was being given a surprise party for my birthday! 

The lounge was packed. Cassie must have known about this because she had a broad smile when our eyes met and she winked at me. Near them were Serena and Dee Dee along with almost everyone else I had driven all year.

I was speechless, trying to keep my emotions in check. Cassie took over and guided me through the crowd. Then there were hugs and kisses all around, and for each kiss there was Serena snapping away with her camera. 

It gradually dawned on me that several other women were wearing their work clothes and Cassie was suddenly missing. Had they dressed up for me? Why? Did they intend to make ME the client for the next couple of hours? 

Panic set in. That's all I needed, to be sitting down while Bunny, or worse, Cassie, gave me a lap dance. I hustled Serena to the side to ask her if that was planned. Between my words, the look of anguish on my face and my faltering voice she understood my panic completely. Why did I ever tell her that? 

For remainder of the party I was teased unmercifully. Gradually everyone left to go change. The ladies got a big kick out of my discomfort and Serena was quick to capture it all on film. Even with my minor anxiety attack it still remains my most memorable birthday.

The party was what I needed to clear my head. I became much more relaxed on the job after that. A few weeks later Serena delivered to me a 3-ring bound album of pictures that captured it all. 

At first I was tempted to show the book to my family, but I had not told them of the party, and they would not appreciate it anyway. Instead I took the book with me that Sunday when I went over to Gary's. He was anxious to see the ladies I worked with and this was a safe way to introduce them. I knew the pictures would be a welcome surprise.

We were in the family room talking about wrestling, the latest standings in Division I. Of course the topic was Iowa, and Penn State's chances that year of defeating them. We looked at the potential match-ups from every angle. Our consensus: Iowa was unbeatable.

"Hey look, I've got something I want to show you." I said as I picked up my album. "You've been bugging me about seeing some of the ladies I work with..."

Gary took the album placing it on the coffee table as I moved around the side to join him.

"These are from my surprise party a few weeks ago."

He turned to the first page and immediately was drawn to picture of me being flanked by Cassie and Serena.

"The one on the right dressed as a belly dancer, that's Cassie. There are a few other close-ups of her a couple of pages back."

"Whew, she IS gorgeous David. Now I understand your problem." 

Gary flipped back a few pages to a close-up of Cassie taken as she rested her chin on my head. Her arms were draped over my shoulders from behind while I sat below her. It was great shot and really did justice to her fabulous smile and hypnotic eyes. I hadn't noticed before but my smile was just the opposite, filled with apparent embarrassment. Gary cracked up.

He was making such a noise that he drew Adrienne into the room, curious as to what we were doing. Before I could say anything he was pointing me out in the photo and she was beside me with an intense look on her face. I turned away not wanting to be drawn into any potential questions.

"That's my friend Cassie", I said continuing to avoid her stare. 

"What's this, a party?"

"Yeah, for my birthday."

I sat waiting for the other shoe to drop. It didn't. She was quiet as Gary flipped through the pages and I identified my other coworkers. It was not apparent to me before but there were a lot of pictures of Cassie, Bunny, Dee Dee and I. Towards the back there were shots Serena and I, a couple with our arms around one another.

I'd forgotten that Serena too was in her stage wear. She looked almost naked as the pasties and g-string were so small as to be virtually invisible in the photo. I could feel Adrienne holding in a breath.

"Who is that!" asked Gary, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Dr. Serena Jones, associate professor of psychology. She's my unofficial faculty advisor", I added proudly.

"Whoa, if you've got teachers like that at Temple then it's time I transferred," chuckled Gary.

Adrienne moved away as he said that. I hadn't seen her face but I knew she wasn't happy, and from somewhere deep inside I knew why. I wanted to say something as she walked away, but what? I didn't have the words. I looked over at Gary for guidance. He was busy inspecting the pictures, oblivious to her departure.

He and I kibitzed about my job for another hour; by then I had to leave and Adrienne was no where to be found. Not wanting to make an issue of her absence I left as if nothing was wrong, yet my gut was saying otherwise. 

**

In mid-March both Gary and I were off for Spring Break. He had recently started taking golf lessons and was hooked. He asked me to go with him to check out some drivers at a pro shop. From there we were off to an indoor driving range. I went along for the ride even though I knew nothing about the game. After a frustrating couple of hours trying to hit the little white ball I realized why I intuitively avoided golf. 

By noon we were having lunch at a nearby diner.

"David, I need a favor." Gary stated with a touch too much hesitation. 

"Sure, if I can. Please tell me it's not about the ladies at the club. I don't arrange dates and I don't do introductions."

"No, nothing to do with them, though that might be easier for you do. Look, heh, Adrienne needs a date for her prom. Will you take her?"

I certainly had not seen that coming. "You're kidding, right? Why me? What about Ari?

"He's out of the picture, but you should know that. You haven't seen him around recently have you?"

"I haven't been by the house in a few weeks." I debated whether to tell him the reason for my absence and in the end decided to leave it alone. "There are guys in her class who would jump at the chance. Why not get one of them?"

"She wants a 'safe date', not someone she'll have to wrestle with at the end of the night." Gary paused for a moment. When he resumed speaking I noted a pleading quality in his voice. "She really wants to go you know. It may be the last time she'll see some of her friends."

"Why don't you escort her if she wants to go so badly?"

"I offered. She doesn't want to be seen with her brother. It would be too awkward. She asked me to ask you if you would do it. Hey, you already have the tux." 

"She asked? I don't know Gary; I'll have to think about it. I can foresee this being a problem, particularly if she makes any cracks about my job. It could turn into a real long night for both of us, so I'm not going to commit at this moment. Tell you what, I'll be at your house tonight; she and I can discuss it then. "

"Take a look at this, maybe it will help make up your mind." Gary handed me what I thought at first was a passport photo. It was actually a small beat-up picture encased in laminate.

There were two children in the shot, one of whom I instantly recognized as Adrienne. The other child was me; the Cowboy outfit being a dead giveaway. I had to have been, what, nine at the time. I pondered it for a while and placed it on the table in front of him.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"I found this in Adrienne's wallet."

"You went through her wallet?" 

"Yeah, look I normally don't do that kind of thing, but you saw the one she was using. I bought her a new one for Christmas and I wanted to make sure it would hold all of her stuff before I wrapped it. One morning while she was taking a shower I slipped into her room and did a little test. That's when I found this."

"So again I ask, what's that got to do with me?"

"Wake up David. She's been carrying this around for years. Doesn't that tell you something? You've got to see it, how she acts around you? She's always calm and together...except for when it comes to you. You're the only one who can get her to blow her top. I won't ask how you feel about her, I already know."

He had that look of teacher disappointed in their student for not doing their homework. "Have you ever asked yourself why you started dating Brenda AFTER Lit hooked up with Ari?"

"What are you talking about?"

My friend was looking at me with the strangest smile and shaking his head. 

"You honestly don't see it do you? Let me spell it out for you. First of all, my father has been pushing Ari on Lit for years. Everyone in my family knew that. But Lit wasn't interested. Neither was Ari, by the way. But as soon as you start telling us about how Brenda was flirting with you, then suddenly Lit hooks up with Ari. That's a heck of a coincidence."

"Up until then you and I were joking about Brenda's very obvious attempts to get your attention. But let Lit and Ari become an item and you team up with Brenda, yet another coincidence. See it now David?"

I should have been stunned. I wasn't. Those were the facts, and he was drawing some logical motives. I had to admit that there were feelings between us we had not given words to, had not explored in any way. I could not hide that from Gary. "It's not as simple as that." I finally managed to get out. 

"Isn't it?"

"She's like my sister Gary."

"You don't believe that yourself. OK, I had to ask", he conceded. "I know you'll do what's best for her, you always have."

As he picked up the photo my eyes followed it as he placed it back in his shirt pocket.

We talked for a few more minutes before I begged off. This was only the second time in my life Gary had asked me to do something for his sister. I knew I would do it even as I voiced my objections. I wouldn't let her down, particularly since I really wanted to spend some time alone with her.

Later that night I had dinner with their family. It wasn't lost on me that Ari was missing. Our little party broke up as Adrienne and I made our way to the family room. When I asked to speak with her about the prom she surprised me by leading us out to the porch.

It was a typical March evening, a bit brisk because of a chill wind. It would not have been my choice for a private talk and I couldn't understand why we were outside. Evidently, she wanted to ensure no one else heard us.

I had to gather my courage before I began. "Lit, I'm uncomfortable with us going out. I'd do anything for you, you know that, but I don't like the idea of movin' in on another guy's girl. Have you and Ari broken up?"

"No" came her answer, though she was looking elsewhere when she gave it.

"What's going on here?" I thought. If she and Ari were still a couple how did I fit in? Was she trying to involve me in some plot to make him jealous? No, that wasn't her. If I was patient she would explain it all.

She turned her back to me and walked over to the railing. By her action I didn't know if she were still upset with me or merely disappointed I wasn't Ari. It was obviously a moment she wanted for herself.

Adrienne was not the kind of girl to be silent for long. That night she was uncharacteristically quiet. The lull in the conversation afforded me the opportunity to look at her more closely. It was difficult not to compare her to the women I worked with.

She was a good five foot seven inches tall without heels. Gone was the baby fat of her early teens, replaced with a form that could have easily qualified her as a dancer at the club. She had the legs, the rear, even the arch that propelled her breasts. The only thing that remained of her childhood was the mass of curly brown hair that highlighted her face and the adorable little baby fat under her chin.

I remember reading once that there were perhaps 2,000 standard faces in the world; a defined limit on genetic diversity. We all looked like someone else. Today for Adrienne I would have paired her with the actress Madeleine Stowe; she of the doleful eyes, full lips and deep dimples. 

There was sincerity in that face. There was trust, empathy, and I knew from experience, loyalty. It was a face I could never knowingly hurt nor disappoint. It came to me that whatever I had to do to get back in her good graces I would; and yet, some things about her behavior did not fit. I wanted a few answers.

"Why isn't Ari taking you to the prom?" I said, showing my impatience.

She turned to look at me, her expression somewhat sad. "Ari doesn't want to go."

"He's in your class and he's your boyfriend. He can't give up one night for you?"

"He's not my boyfriend" She said while lowering her voice. My face must have shown confusion so she added, "I can see you don't understand. What I'm going to tell you must not be repeated." 

She was so intense at the point that I merely nodded, curious to hear more.

"Ari is gay." Adrienne almost whispered. 

The statement went by me. I must have unconsciously hunched my shoulders, for she added clarification. "He's gay, you know, homosexual?"

"He likes guys?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, that's deep. So he can't take you because, what, his boyfriend objects?" I said rather glibly.

"How did you know?" she said showing both awe and relief.

"I didn't know he had a boyfriend. I was joking. It was just a lucky guess, nothing more. Now that I know, I presume this whole act at dinner every Sunday is to throw off his folks, as well as yours?

She looked at me without any sort of affirmation.

"Well, I won't tell, but he should. Lit you shouldn't be involved in this." 

"I'm not a child and my name is Adrienne. Furthermore, my relationship with Ari is none of your business. I'm sorry I mentioned it. Sometimes David, you..." 

"Sometimes I what....? I don't like to be lied to? You've got your father thinking this kid is going to be your future husband. Ari's father thinks the same. And when they find out, and you know they will, what then? Got a lie for that one?"

Her eyes became slits as I knew I had hit a nerve. It wasn't enough, so I continued.

"Whatever the reason, no matter how much you think this will help him, it won't. I don't understand how he can be that way, that's his problem, but I do know that lying about it is the worse thing he can do." 

She walked towards me, purposely invading my space. I could see the tears now as she spoke.

"His problem? That's why I didn't tell you, you think he's some kind of freak!"

"I don't know him well enough, evidently, to make that call. I do know he is liar though...and a coward." I countered.

"You're one to judge with what you do." She quickly exclaimed.

"You know about my job. I haven't hidden anything from you, and I certainly haven't lied to my family about it."

I saw a shiver from her as a breeze crossed the porch and I shifted some to remove my jacket. Without words I draped it around her shoulders noting how she drew a breath when my hands touched her.


I knew that getting angry with her was a mistake, so I asked quietly, "How are you planning on handling his announcement?"

"He's not making one", she said as if exhausted. Then she stepped back. She was looking downward.

"Oh yes he is. Everyone is wondering what happened between you guys. If you go to the prom without him there are sure to be more questions asked. It will come out. Why doesn't he just tell his family? They may not understand it all, but they're his blood. They love him. If he doesn't tell them, and they find out some other way, it's gonna get real messy. In your heart you know what I'm saying is true. You've got to talk to him."

"He doesn't want to talk to anymore." She shivered again. There now began a long moment of silence as we both withdrew from our argument. "I really screwed up, didn't I?" she mused as if talking to the night.

The question hung there. We both knew the answer. She WAS suffering too and that was all I needed to know. I cut the distance between us and encircled my arms around her.

I didn't know which of them had dreamed up this charade. At first I thought it was Adrienne. She had a habit of getting involved too easily in other people's lives. While I admired her compassion, not every project seemed worthy to me. After I thought she was calm again I gently pulled away. "I've got some studying to do. I'll call you next week, OK?" 

With that I left. I wasn't pleased with what I learned. A part of me understood her wanting to help her friend but their little deception was going to eventually blow up, probably right in their faces. I only hoped I was there with her when it happened. She would need a friend then.

I had wondered for some time what the glue was that kept Adrienne and Ari together. There clearly wasn't a lot they had in common. The idea of her going along with an arranged marriage made no sense either; she was too independent for that.

Now I knew my assessment was all wrong. There was no relationship between the two, except as platonic friends. Their behavior now made sense, at least some of it. Gary may have been right; there was another motive at work for me taking her to the prom. I quickly tried to put all speculation about that to the back of my mind, but I failed.

Technically there was nothing keeping us from developing a different relationship. Not only was she available but she was making it clear that she wanted something more from me. She was forcing me to realize how I really felt about her and that I kept avoiding.

However, when I thought about Ari I didn't feel any differently. Of course I was tempted to envision him with another man. That mental picture made me uncomfortable. It seemed weird to me, but that was on him. It really should not have been any of my business except that they made it mine by lying to me.

Regardless of my problems with what they had done, I couldn't leave Adrienne alone for the prom. I called her a few days later to confirm she still wanted me as an escort. It was a short call and you could hear her relief as soon as I asked. We avoided any mention of our earlier conversation and the call was over quickly.

Thursday I saw Rui and told him I needed a couple of days off in early May. He was pretty understanding when he heard I was going to a High School prom. In fact, I hadn't heard him laugh so hard since that first night when he hired me. 

Word of my request made it around the club. In the intervening month everyone tried pumping me for information, even Cassie. Unknown to me, more than a few of the ladies had been a bit worried about my social life, or more precisely, the lack thereof. 

Now they thought they knew why I hadn't hit on anyone in Xanadu. They were too old. 'I liked 'em young.'

Chapter 11: Unlearning the Tango

On the second Friday in May I arrived at Adrienne's house seated in the back of a limo. Unsure of what awaited me, and contrary to Gary's pronouncement, I did rent a tux. I'm glad I did. My usual attire was fairly conservative and I would have felt self-conscious wearing my 'work' clothes.

Adrienne walked gracefully out of the house as I exited the car. She stood waiting on the landing striking a pose I knew was meant only for me. As I took what seemed like the longest walk of my life I had the feeling that something was afoot. She had a worried look, but that's not what gave me pause. It was the dress. 




Ardmore Pt. 03



She was wearing a black strapless dress, tiered ruffles in back, with a long side slit. A slit she exploited in her pose, leg and thigh showing, gracefully supported by some very sexy heels. 

Damn! This was my first real date in over two years and I was acting like I had never been out with a girl. But this wasn't a girl, this was Adrienne like I'd never seen her before.

"I need to warn you, they all want pictures of us. David? David are you listening?"

I heard her, yet I registered only some of the words. I recall her lips moving though. When did she get such lips? My stare wandered back to her eyes and locked in place. "Beautiful" I murmured. "Absolutely beautiful" I said with more conviction. That last statement got me a wide smile.

Like a zombie I followed as she took my arm leading me to the door. "Your parents are here too. It won't take long. Please stop staring at me like that, you're making me self-conscious." In response I nodded, unable to speak. When she turned I followed my stare now focused on her broad shoulders and bare back. My, she was sexy. Why I hadn't I noticed before?

If asked who was in the house, or how long we stayed, I couldn't tell you. When I look at the pictures today I see a young man with a glazed stare and the goofiest smile imaginable. In fact, all of the pictures came out with me looking like I was confused, a fact that years later our children never seem to miss.

The prom was mostly a blur too. We danced, then we ate, some teacher welcomed us with old jokes on stage, the band played, we danced some more and then we were alone again. I do however, remember Adrienne's hand in mine as she dragged me from table to table introducing me her friends. 

My bald head got a few strange looks at first, but in general her female friends seemed happy to see me. Most I had met at the house at one time or another. However, I could also feel some tension from several of her male friends who must have thought Adrienne was unattached. There was no mistaking that look of unwanted interference.

We made an obligatory appearance at a few after-parties. It was more of the same, her leading the way, me following, hand in hand. It was her night and she was using it to her advantage. At the end of the evening I was conflicted. I knew that I wanted to kiss her but I was unsure. What if she did not feel the same? What would it do to our friendship? Could I handle the embarrassment of her rejection? 

Even though we rode home in silence Adrienne was snuggling up to me. I was petrified. Instead of protectively placing my arm around her I sat with my hands folded in my lap, afraid to move. 

We arrived a little before 2am and I walked her to the front door. I saw she was waiting for me to do something and no simple goodbye would suffice. I just wanted to get out of there, so I pulled her in for a chaste hug. I felt the strength of her arms as they encircled me and then I gently pushed away, fearful that the connection might have lasted a second too long. 

I couldn't read her face. Was that disappointment I saw, or was it relief? Being uncertain I said goodnight and left.

Upon reaching the limo I turned to look back at the house. I remembered how she looked when I said goodnight. What if I had hurt her with my ambivalence? That look, it wasn't relief, it was regret. What must she think of me? At that moment my eyes started to mist. She had shaken me in ways I could not explain. This was not how I wanted the night to end, not knowing, always wondering what might have been. It then occurred to me that I was losing her and I became afraid.

Without thinking I ran back up the steps. Moments later I was ringing her doorbell. I did not have any words prepared; in fact, I didn't know what to say. I only wanted to see her again. Just as I hoped, it was her who answered.

"David? Did you forget something?" Her words expressed concern but her tone conveyed annoyance. 

"Yes", was all I said as I swept her up in my arms and kissed her. I just did it on impulse. It just seemed the only right thing to do. 

Her resistance, what little there was, melted as I felt her hand in the back of my head and her tongue entering my mouth. We were lip locked for minutes, neither wanting to end the joining, our bodies plastered as one. Our first kiss was the most passionate kiss of my life. 

When we finally parted and she was but a breath away I whispered, "Please forgive me. I didn't know." 

That got me another kiss, as intense and long as the first. Only this time it was she who initiated it. After that kiss we held on to one another, no words spoken, only the feel of warm flesh vibrating in tune and in time. 

That next morning it was a different story. I was in a panic. The reality of what we had done took hold. I berated myself for not thinking of whom I was kissing. She asked me to be her escort, not to take advantage of her. Adrienne was like a sister. She was someone whose opinion of me mattered. Now I had put that relationship as well as her view of me in jeopardy. One other problem surfaced as I paced my room, and it was a doozie...I loved her.

Maybe I was waiting for her to grow up. It was hard making sense of it all; I couldn't reconcile my current feelings with our previous status. We should talk, but what would I say? I could barely arrange my own thoughts, where would the words come from? It was there, up front, staring me in the face. My feelings for her were not brotherly. I loved her, and that scared me.

I could perhaps salvage the situation by withdrawing from her, then later, after some time apart we would likely return to our old roles. It would only take me making myself scarce, and avoiding their Sunday dinners for a few weeks, or months. 

My plan began to unfold as I made my way to the shower. The bathroom was like a sauna as I relaxed under the hot spray. By the time I finished I thought I had it all worked out. It was cowardly plan and I wasn't happy about my intentions but what else could I do? Sometimes when scared the mind makes the most absurd ideas seem brilliant. I was soon to find that out. 

As I reentered my bedroom there stood Adrienne decked out in a yellow sun dress and another wide smile. Seeing that face, I immediately knew the futility of my so-called plan. 

"Good Afternoon." 

"Adrienne, how did you...?"

With a smirk she volunteered. "Gina let me in. She was right; you do tend to tarry in the shower."

It was then I realized I was almost naked with a towel around my waist and she was scanning me with a mischievous look. 

"Do you mind waiting downstairs?"

"Why? Is my 'boyfriend' afraid to let me see him naked?" She came up to me looping her arms around my neck knowing I had but one hand free. "You ARE my boyfriend aren't you?"

Before I could answer her lips were pressed firmly to mine and my grip on the towel became unimportant.

She pulled back, her face a few inches away, her appearance now serious with eyes boring into my own. The next statement cut through me.

"I'm not Brenda Williams, I'm not going anywhere...ever." 

She closed her eyes and she nuzzled her face into my chest; her arms tightening around me; my own locking in her embrace. 

She was right of course. She had uncovered my doubts the night before and knew I would be seeking to run away. Brenda was the elephant in the closet. I was terrified of another failure, and yet I did love Adrienne. I was just afraid, too afraid even to admit my need for her. 

Standing there holding her so close I knew my fears were foolish. I had already entrusted her with most of my secrets. She knew all my likes and dislikes and I knew most of hers. We had been toying with being boyfriend and girlfriend for years; I'd just not been brave enough to publicly acknowledge it. 

Dating turned out to be a new experience for us. I thought I knew just about everything there was to know about her, yet almost every day there something to be discovered, and not just from her.

For the first time in my life I found myself actually wanting to be romantic. I'd never felt that way with Brenda, yet there I was picking up flowers, and sending cards every week, and thinking up ways to surprise her, all little things designed to make her smile. And smile she did.

Our affection for one another was apparent to everyone. Adrienne made sure of that; she was always touching me in small non-descript ways. 

Contrary to my mother's hopes, Adrienne never pressured me to give up my job, not overtly anyway. I won't say I in no way detected any signs of jealousy, I did. I felt that the best way to deal with it was to become transparent in my actions.

I told her my work schedule, and while I couldn't tell in advance who I would be with on any given night, I did recount my activities to her the next day. That retelling was only part of our relationship for a few weeks until she told me one evening that it really wasn't necessary.

She remained curious about my coworkers though, so one afternoon I made a request of Serena and the next Monday I took Adrienne to school with me and we had lunch with Dr. Jackson. Serena fell right into counselor mode and before we left Adrienne was convinced she WAS my academic advisor.

Getting Cassie and Adrienne together was a little harder, not because of them, but because of me. I had feelings for Cassie, irrational as they were. I loved Adrienne but I was still somewhat infatuated with Cassie, though that infatuation was receding every day Adrienne and I were together. 

I wasn't prepared to fully expose that relationship just yet. What if they found me out over lunch? What would I say to Adrienne then? Sorry babe, I love you but...well, I still have a thing for Cassie. That was too dangerous. So I arranged for us to meet with Dee Dee instead (minus her girlfriend of course). 

After that date, which went quite well, Adrienne figured out what I was doing and to her credit, told me that it really wasn't necessary for her to meet all of my coworkers. We were getting along so well that we had completely forgotten about Ari, and the problem that brought us together before the prom. On a hot August afternoon it resurfaced. 

Adrienne and I were enjoying a pleasant interlude alone in her backyard, cuddling on the swing, talking quietly and enjoying the closeness of one another. It started as a word, then a shout and before long we recognized an argument coming from the house. Then as quickly as it arose, it went quiet. 

While initially on alert, I relaxed back into the seat enjoying the feel of Adrienne's body draped over mine as the peace of the garden was reestablished. I heard the footsteps first and then the slam of the screen door. Adrienne's father was moving towards us. By his gait and the look in his eyes I could see he was trying to gain control of his emotions. His gaze never left Adrienne over the short distance to where we sat.

"I just got a call from Stavros", he said through clenched teeth. I tensed immediately, sensing the truth of what was to follow. Mr. Danas was busy steadying his breathing. Adrienne sat up as I moved my arm from around her and took her hand in mine.

"Did you know that Ari was a homosexual?" He asked, not waiting for answer. "Stavros claims you knew all along, that you set out to make a fool of him and his family. I told him my daughter wouldn't do that."

"Daddy, Ari asked for my help. He needed more time before he could tell his father." Said Adrienne in response.

"More time?" Spat her father as he paced before us. Her mother moved to his side touching his arm to calm him. "Stavros threw him out of the house, he has disowned him."

She could not hold his gaze after that. His wife pulled his arm as he spun around to face her. "He's kicked out Eleni too, say's he will divorce her for siding with their son."

A gasp escaped Adrienne's lips as I moved my arm around her. "He can't..." she pleaded.

"Can't he? Stavros is a proud man. He would never accept this from his only son, you must know that." I could see the exhaustion claiming her father. "If only you had come to me with this, I might have talked with him, now we must have a different conversation."

"How can he do this to them?"

"I'm not concerned at this moment with what he has done to them, only with what he may do to himself." He added sadly. Mr. Danas then turned back to his house, "I'll call you later", he said to his wife as he passed." She looked over at us for a second, and then followed him.

Adrienne sat stunned. I had been silent the entire time, not wanting to intrude in their dispute. I was there for her, and I slowly rubbed her arm to express my concern and empathy. I also hoped her father could talk with him and prevent the tragedy from expanding further. 

Adrienne turned to face me, her eyes looking into my own for some understanding. I merely raised my eyebrows and hunched my shoulders. This was her time to speak; I had given my opinion some time ago. This whole thing with Ari still stood between us and she needed to clear the air.

"I made a mess of this didn't I?" She said through a frown of determination. I saw her dimples become prominent and noticed how her eyes displayed a hint of sadness. I took a breath. Even in her comeuppance, she compelled my love.

"You could not have foreseen this. I never thought his father would throw him out over this either."

"But it's my fault, isn't it?" 

I nodded slowly. "Some of it you own. Why did you do it?"

"When we started it was really about you." When she said that I cocked my head in surprise, and asked, "Me?"

"I was trying to make you jealous. I asked Ari to help me and he did. After a few months it was obvious you weren't responding, at least not in the way I wanted."

"That was, what, fours years ago? Moreover, I WAS jealous, at first, but I came to think I was being foolish. You were like my little sister, so I thought that maybe it was me being overprotective. I saw how you were with Ari. He never seemed to feel as much for you. Oh he tried, but sometimes I saw how your interests simply bored him. After a while I thought you accepted that, so I backed off."

"Besides, you're telling me you started this when I was seeing Brenda. Why did you continue after she was gone?"

"I did it because of Ari. We had grown close to where he thought he could trust me. I told him everything about you, that's when he told me his secret. By then I couldn't abandon him."

Adrienne paused and grabbed my hand. "Everyone needs love." She finally said.

"That includes his parents." I countered, not wanting to let that statement stand alone. The idea that Ari's needs overrode all others without any need for some accommodation to their feelings bugged me. I understood her sense of compassion. Everyone did need love, but there was a way he should have gone about it. 

While I was shocked that his father could deny his own son over his being homosexual, I could also understand Stavros' obvious pain of betrayal. No parent WANTS their child to be that way, but neither do they wish asthma or MS on their offspring. It's just something you deal with, you don't have to like it, but it is what it is.

"You have to explain this to your parents...and then you need to explain it to Ari's dad."

I could feel Adrienne tense up when I said that. I pulled her in closer. "I'll be right there with you. You won't have to do it alone, but Lit...this has to be done."

She told her parents later that night. Her father was clearly disappointed in her; however, his outburst that afternoon had dispersed much of his anger and frustration. He was calm and well spoken. I thought his words that night had more impact on her than those from earlier in the day.

Her mother was much more sympathetic. If I hadn't known that Ari's secret was so closely guarded, I would have thought that her mother knew all along of the charade. 

The hard task was the conversation with Mr. Manos. She went with her dad. Despite my best efforts, I was not allowed to go with them. I did see her immediately upon their return though. One look at her body language, the way she slumped forward, the tentative manner of her steps, and I knew it had not gone well; and her father's entrance mirrored her own. 

Stavros was unmoved. He berated his son with the vilest names, according to her father. While Adrienne was spared the name-calling, her position was regarded with as much contempt as that for his son. That attitude almost bought the two men to blows. At the end, the longstanding friendship between them was over. 

I saw the hurt in her father's eyes as his wife moved to embrace him. For my part, I sat with Adrienne well into the early morning hours listening as she both cried and talked out her agony. Her tears were not for her loss however, but for Ari's father. She cried in his stead, for the loss of his son. She cried until exhaustion claimed her. As she snored lightly, her head in my lap, I knew I loved her more deeply than she could ever imagine.

We located Ari after making inquiries with several of his friends. He and his mother were living with her sister. I don't know how Adrienne obtained their phone number, but I was there when she placed the call.

It came as quite a shock when she was firmly rebuffed by his mother. In addition, Ari stated his displeasure through his mother and he too refused to speak with Adrienne. I don't know how they arrived at blaming her for their forced exile, but it was apparent that they did. To say that Adrienne was crushed would have been an understatement. 

When you step in the middle of a family dispute you shouldn't be surprised to become the common focus of their anger. To me it was like the stories of police officers who venture into a 'domestic' and become the target for both combatants. Adrienne was learning a hard lesson on the limits of her own compassion, and the guarantee of unintended consequences.

Even though she was upset about Ari's attitude Adrienne never felt offended, never wavered from her defense of him and his actions. She had given herself in friendship to him, and that that was that. I couldn't help but admire her sense of loyalty. In the future she would mend her rift with Ari, but that would be many months away.

Our relationship grew closer from that point. By Thanksgiving, our love for one another was causing me many sleepless nights. Our emotional connection was straining our limited physical relationship too. We had not had sex and Adrienne was putting on the pressure for me to take her virginity. 

Odd as it may seem, our sexual contact was limited to kissing and feeling each other up, those activities being a daily occurrence. I can't say that I had not cum in my pants on more than one occasion, the first being a cause for much embarrassment. Or course I had also felt many an uncovered breast along the way and had even ventured south, restricting my advance to rubbing her panty covered sex.

Who was holding back you ask? Simply put, I was. This was Lit we were talking about. I wanted it to be right for her, and I wanted her to be ready. I was the experienced one yet I was most afraid of moving too fast with her. 

I had a conversation with Papa about marriage around that time. I don't remember exactly how it came up. Papa and I were talking about graduation and my upcoming appointment in the fall. I was going to be a middle school math teacher and he was telling me what to expect in the next school year. As so often happened with him, the conversation seamlessly shifted and I recall telling him everything about how I felt about Lit. That got me a long lecture about marriage, fidelity, and honor. I remember sitting there wondering how we had gotten into the whole topic. 

Then out of the clear blue, Papa advised me to see Mr. Danas for permission to marry his daughter. Next I was to contact my sister Gloria to help me pick out a ring; and that ring should come from Howard's store since he would surely give me the best price.




Ardmore Pt. 04



This is part 4 of a 4 part story. There is virtually no sex in this story. It has been a pleasure reading your previous comments. Good or bad, they are always welcome.

Chapter 14: Back to the present

By the beginning of the third day in Williamsport I was determined to see my children return home as soon as possible. Allie and Giselle cooperated by visiting with Adrienne briefly in the morning, then left for our home immediately thereafter. Gary and Drew rode with them. With last night's outburst fresh in everyone's mind it took very little effort to persuade them to leave.

I was avoiding any discussion of Adrienne's camping exploits until I was better prepared both factually and emotionally. Having to confront her was not something I looked forward to; but it would happen on my own schedule, not someone else's.

I had to see her in the hospital each day so the safest approach was not to be alone with her. Using my family as a buffer was a little distasteful to me, but I did it in such a way that I hoped it was not obvious.

In the early afternoon I called Lieutenant Havlechek to see if I could get my wife's things out of impound. It was very soon after the attack, but I had a feeling it was possible. My purpose was two-fold: to obtain her possessions and to assess the all the items she and Jane had brought along with them. I was betting on the State Police having made a thorough inventory of everything found at the campsite.

The Lieutenant met me at the barracks impound a short time later and quickly ushered me into the evidence room. I took note that he dismissed the trooper in attendance once we were situated. The move piqued my curiosity. As he watched his colleague stride down the long hallway I queried him. 

"Lieutenant, are you originally from this area?"

"All my life."

"Hmm, I have a brother from up this way. Perhaps you know him, Chris Borash?."

There was a short pause before her responded, "How'd you know?"

"You might not realize it but you somewhat favor Chris and that got me to thinking. I recalled seeing your picture at their home. Plus you've been exceptionally helpful; telling me about what Rudman said certainly wasn't necessary, but you did it anyway. Then Julia got a text message the first night she was here. Someone was picking her up from the hotel. I assume that was you?"

He merely smiled his agreement. 

"I can sense when my older sisters are running cover for me, and no one does that better than Julia."

"That she does. She is a fine woman, your sister. Our family thinks the world of her and would do anything for her. She gave us back Chris, saved him when everyone else had given up on him. It was the least I could do to assist when she asked." 

"Thank you." I added, before offering my hand.

"Let's get your wife's things." 

Within a few minutes I was able to obtain all of Adrienne's personal effects, including one overnight bag that was improperly identified as being hers. When I asked about seeing the inventory list I checked off those things I wanted to inspect. 

I saw that they had recorded that the bag contained mainly underwear and some personal hygiene items in a side pouch. That pouch was also found to have contained a vibrator. "So much for that one 'overtly' sexual item Havlechek mentioned", I thought.

Searching further it was obvious to me that the contents were not Adrienne's. While I mused that she would have looked great in the somewhat plain cotton bra and panty sets, they could not have been hers. The bras were a 34B and they were oddly padded in one cup. Adrienne's ran more to a 36C.

I scanned the list again and spotted several other items of interest, three scented candles. When I asked to look at them I saw that one had been used and the others were still in their original wrapping. That left but one item that seemed out of place, a piece of jewelry. 

I was presented with a felt box, hinged on one side; of a type you might find containing a watch. Upon opening it I found a tennis bracelet composed of square-cut gems. They might have been diamonds, but not being up on jewelry I couldn't tell. However, it's what was inside the box that caught my eye. The filling was cloth with the logo of Samsom Street Jewelers, the name of Howard's store! 

Gloria was known for giving gifts from Howard's. He designed many of his own pieces and had the practice of putting his cloth in with his original work. That had been my sister's idea many years ago, which is why I recognized it so easily.

Jane could not afford this bracelet, but would Adrienne have bought it for her? That did not seem to fit either. Could it have been Gloria? She had the money, time and association with Howard. But why would she? Did she have some direct relationship to Jane?

The questions kept coming while the answers remained elusive.

As I was preparing to leave, Havlechek gave me a brief update on the investigation. The bullets collected were still being evaluated but a determination was expected very soon. More importantly, the second man now had a name, Charles Rudman, the brother of the confessed killer.

Like his brother, Charles had priors. He was in the system for a number of minor offenses and was currently on parole for a domestic disturbance. The good news was that his picture was being circulated. The bad news was that his whereabouts were still unknown.

I found Julia standing in line in the hospital cafeteria upon my return.

"Were you able to get Adrienne's things from impound?" She said.

"Yes, I got all of them"

"Any insights?"

"A few, Matt was very helpful." I said, giving her a knowing look.

"I knew he would be", she replied with a small smile. Then turning to me she said, "That man Rudman lied about them being naked you know. That's not how they found them."

I simply nodded in agreement.

I had surmised as much myself, but it was comforting hearing someone else reach a similar conclusion. Still, they had to be doing something, and that remained a problem for me. 

We got on with getting our lunch. Julia informed me that mys had arrived while I was gone. She had left to allow them time to visit with Adrienne. 

While my family was circumspect with regards to my wife's situation, Adrienne's father was not. It was fortunate that Papa quickly recognized this and helped me talk with him away from everyone else. We had had a couple of days to compose ourselves, to adjust to the shooting, while for him the reality of her near death experience was crushing down on him. 

It ended up being a very long day for the three of us.

My wife was transferred by ambulance to Lankenau hospital on the morning of the fourth day. I was barely finished completing the paperwork when the vehicle showed up at the emergency room entrance. With it came a police escort. That car brought home to everyone the continuing threat she faced.

The trip back gave me time to re-evaluate all the information I had acquired in the last few days. Regardless of how I arranged the facts, I still failed to discern any pattern to the actions of my wife and Jane. It was obvious that more digging was required. I made up my mind to learn what paper trail was associated with their trip.

The downward trend of events of the preceding days started breaking in another direction as soon as we reached the new hospital's parking lot. The first evidence of that came after my cell went off while I was exiting the car. It was Lieutenant Havlechek. 

"Hello, David Martens."

"Matt Havlechek, I wanted to let you know that we got Rudman's brother. New York State Police caught him at the border. He was interviewed this morning, admits being at the scene but denies anything to do with the shooting. In fact, he said he got out of there seconds before his brother started firing."

"What do you think?"

"His story is consistent with what we know. This morning the Crime Lab matched all the bullets to one weapon and his prints are not on it. "

"Aside from that, he's scared out of his mind; he's particularly frightened of being reunited with his brother. The killing really shook him up. After the interview he had to be sedated. He's currently under a suicide watch. I don't think this man ever bought into his brother's plan. The entire affair has all the aspects of an impulse shooting."

I took a deep breath. A random act was always more chilling than a planned assassination, much harder to comprehend.

"What will happen to him?" I finally managed to ask.

"Normally I'd say 'share the crime share the time' but that's going to be tricky in this case. I don't see him being either an accomplice or an accessory. It's up to the D. A. to set his culpability. How is Adrienne doing today?" 

"Better, we're here at the new hospital. She'll be home soon. Thanks again, for everything."

It certainly helped my mood to know that all the parties to the crime were in custody. I let my family know the news. It was a welcome relief all around.

Once Adrienne was admitted to the new hospital, I stayed with her for a couple of hours then returned to our home. Money has a way of preceding deception. You can learn a lot by following the money trail.

My wife was the principal manager of our finances and she was very good at that job. As a family headed by public employees with one adult seeking a doctorate and a child in college we managed our funds very closely. Adrienne was meticulous in not only record keeping but in finding opportunities to save money.

She had file folders for every category of expense. Receipts and invoices were placed in chronological order within each folder. Our entire financial history was neatly stored in our main file cabinet that remained unlocked. However, the physical files were merely audit fodder for the electronic schedules she maintained on our computer.

The electronic information was password protected, and as I expected the passwords were ones we always shared. There was not one hint that anything had been hidden. Of course if our records had been doctored or items removed, the sheer order Adrienne established would help obscure any alterations. For that reason, I decided to look at the online records of our bank and credit card lenders. Those ledgers would be impossible for my wife to alter.

The research took the rest of the day. All I could discover was a purchase by Adrienne of one sleeping bag and a pair of hiking boots. Both were in my possession. Those were paid for credit card last Friday, a mere two days before she left for the convention. Since I drove her to the train station I knew she did not have them when she left. Therefore, Jane must have picked them up for her.

A reading of her emails yielded little. I discovered only one server-based account for Adrienne and her browser history showed the lack of any other. That one account contained exchanges with Allie, my sisters Julia and Maria (who lived in Baltimore), as well as several of our friends who lived in other parts of the country. There were some exchanges with Jane, but they were mostly follow-ups from earlier phone conversations.

I hated reading Adrienne's emails. Even though I was often mentioned in both endearing and humorous contexts, the very idea of violating her privacy made me very uncomfortable. Over and over again I was brought face to face with the notion that I must distrust her in order to learn the truth.

Adrienne also kept her personal schedule online. I scanned her entries going back several months. There were the normal engagements one might expect: doctors appointments for herself and Allie, birthday reminders for various friends and family members, our anniversary, even entries for Drew's baseball games.

In the aftermath of violence you get to see the best in people, and oftentimes the worst too. One response we were totally not prepared for after the attack were the crank telephone calls. 

Ardmore is a small town. Owing to my position as a local educator, my name and number have always been listed in the public phone directory. That is a practice I had followed for years.

The calls had begun before I arrived home. Allie had fielded some in our absence. The day after the shooting she turned off the answering machine and asked us to call her directly on her cell. She was perplexed, tired, and angry by the whole experience.

When we got home I took over phone duty. At first, there were the hang-up calls whenever I answered. Some of those idiots forgot about caller ID and were shocked when I immediately called them back. The smarter ones connected anonymously and graduated to name calling; Adrienne was of course the focus. She was called all kinds of vile things, but stupid dyke and lesbian cunt came to be runaway favorites. 

Then finally, there came intermittent threats. One caller said it 'was a shame she didn't die', and another said 'she might have an accident in the future...the dyke bitch'. Another coward said he would complete the job Rudman started. That and the fact that Allie and Drew were receiving some of the more graphic threats prompted me to contact the police. The frequency dropped off dramatically after that. 

It took another month before they ceased entirely. There was one small comfort; checks of caller-id indicated the vast majority of calls originated outside of our area code.

Today however, marked my initiation to this problem. After several bogus messages, I took the phone off the hook so that I could conduct my research in peace. With Adrienne in the hospital I did not give much thought to having visitors at the house, not for a few days anyway, so it came as a surprise when the doorbell rang mid-afternoon.

I admit to being a wee bit annoyed as I opened the front door. It didn't matter, for Giselle approached with barely an acknowledgement.

By most standards she was plainly dressed, certainly not the norm I had grown accustomed to over the years. I don't think I had ever seen her hair in a pony tail, nor could I ever recall her wearing jeans. Those elements were enough to make me apprehensive.

"I called, but your phone was busy. I'm looking for Leo, is he here?" She began after crossing our threshold.

"No, he hasn't been here since early this morning I was told. Is anything wrong?"

She took a seat without me offering such. I could tell by her face that she was under some distress, though I couldn't place the exact source. Her mouth curled into a frown and she was looking at floor and very slowly shaking her head in a fashion implying the negative.

"Giselle?" I said, breaking her from her trance. At least she looked back at me then.

"He hasn't come home since the shooting." She added.

"I heard. I'm sure he'll be there tonight. There is no need for him to camp out here. I appreciate his thoughtfulness though. It took a big weight off me not having to worry about our dogs while we were gone. But don't worry, I'll send him home if he comes by."

"I hope so."

"Giselle, I have no reason to NOT send him home." 

"I'm sorry David; I didn't mean to say it that way."

It was then I noticed the tears. Whatever else I thought of Giselle, having her crying in my living room wasn't something I took pleasure in seeing. I reached for a tissue box and passed it to her.

"Gary mentioned the problem you two are having with Leo."

"I'm sure he did", Giselle sighed. "Leo's stopped speaking to me David. My son suddenly finds ways to avoid me. When he looks at me when we are together there is nothing but anger in his eyes. He's never acted like this before. I don't want to lose him too." She added as an afterthought as her voice trailed off.

I responded by trying to sound upbeat. "Gary thinks it has to do with his girlfriend. If that's the case it's likely to pass Giselle. Most boys his age think they know more than their parents, certainly when it comes to their girlfriends. It's only a phase."

She was looking at me and the fear was clear in her eyes. I tried again.

"We went through the same thing with Allie when she first started dating. Hell, she's still trying to pull fast ones on us every so often." I chuckled. "You should have seen the looks she gave me the first time I grounded her for staying out past curfew." 

With that said, I went silent, waiting for her to say something. She remained alone in thought. When I then offered her some coffee or tea she evidently took it as her time to leave.

"Don't worry, I'll send him right home when I see him." I stated again.

As I held the door for her she turned to me, and reached over to place her hand over mine.

"Thank you David." she said, and she then she was gone.

My, what an odd conversation, I thought. It was difficult for me to imagine Leo acting out against his parents. Now Drew, he was a different story. My son was charmer, always looking for the short cut, never afraid to attempt to talk his way out of a bad situation.

His cousin was the opposite. Leo was responsible, quiet, and very thoughtful. He had a natural sense of kindness that was obvious to all who knew him. And he wasn't a kid who could be easily swayed, as Drew learned on more than one occasion. The kid was a solid citizen and this behavior was so unlike him. His mother was obviously perplexed as well.

I could not get over the fact that Giselle actually cried during her visit. That made me want to have a talk with Leo when next I saw him. I also pondered what was going on with Gary too. She sounded like there were some rift between him and her. Based upon the way he discussed their upcoming vacation I wondered if he were misunderstanding her intentions. She hadn't lost Gary, not as far as I knew.

The nature of misunderstandings begins with people not talking with one another. Thinking of misunderstandings, I quite suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to return Cassie's call. She had left a message for me several days ago. It was unusual since I had not spoken to her in almost a year. I wondered how she had gotten my cell number. 

I fished the small phone from my pocket and replayed her voicemail. Another touch of a button and her number was being redialed.

"Cassandra Roberts" She answered. Roberts was her married name. There was a certain authority in her voice. That was new.

"Cassie? "It's David Martens, returning your call. Sorry for taking so long to get back you but..."

"David! I'm SO glad you called. What a coincidence. I only returned from the hospital moments ago. Adrienne is looking good and I can tell she can't wait to get home. This whole thing is so unbelievable. How are you dealing with all of it?"

"I'm hanging in there, adjusting as best I can. We're just thankful that we didn't lose her." I paused to gain a little composure. "I really appreciate you thinking of us. It means a lot."

"Well, I wanted to see how you both were doing. Adrienne and I were supposed to get together for dinner this weekend, and then this happened."

"I didn't know that." I lied. I recalled the item in Adrienne's online appointment schedule. The notation was brief and failed to explain the purpose.

"Adrienne intended to get you to come with us." She added. I heard her take a breath before continuing. "I'm retiring and selling the business. I wanted to settle up with the partners before we moved."

"Partners? Cassie, you're kidding aren't you? That was, over 20 years ago. I don't have any share in your business."

A light laughter could be heard on the other end. When she stopped you could almost hear the smile in Cassie's voice. "That's why I spoke with your better-half; she is much more practical about things. I transferred your share to her. Remember you said I could do anything I wanted with it."

I was speechless. Here I was afraid of what Adrienne would feel about me keeping that money and she goes behind my back and does just that. Cassie must have contacted her right after we got married. I gathered that they planned to bring me in on their little secret during dinner.




Ardmore Pt. 04



"David?"

"I'm still here. You caught me off guard. I'm accepting your invitation. I don't know about this weekend though," I said after clearing my throat. I was afraid to ask what kind of money we were talking about. I would let me 'better-half' explain that to me. Surely she would have an estimate.

In a more serious tone I opened another line of discussion. I had the feeling that Cassie had some anxiety about who had shot my wife when she placed her original call. I relayed to her the information obtained from the State Police that this was a random act, a hate crime. Then, for my own benefit I posed another question. 

"Whatever happened to Wes after we left Rui's employ?"

She gave a very confident response. "None of those people are around anymore David. Wes and that crew are dead, killed in the early eighties in several mob hits. Remember the Philly Don, Angelo Bruno? Wes was part of the faction that opposed him. As for Kelsey, he's doing 25 to life for bank robbery. He was an accomplice even then. He would be free, except for the fact that a couple guards lost their lives in the theft. Even Rui is out of the picture. He sold the club and moved to Arizona a decade ago."

"Sounds like you kept close tabs on these folks."

"Of course I did, for the first five years anyway, though now it seems like another lifetime."

We continued to converse for almost an hour, mainly about our families: her kids and mine, Sydney of course. She mentioned her husband several times. It was obvious that they were well matched. Knowing the circumstances under which we came to meet I could not have been happier for her. It occurred to me that I sincerely missed talking to my old friend.

Chapter 15: An unfortunate discovery

For the two additional days she was hospitalized my wife was encouraged to walk around the corridors to regain her strength. Being confined so near where we lived meant that Adrienne was now being overwhelmed with visitors. Her spirits improved as she accepted more and more guests. 

People in town knew my wife for her charitable works so the outpouring of affection was understandable. The continuous flow of visitors forced me to limit my stays to less than an hour each day. The limited time was actually a relief. The strain of not being able to speak with her about the nature of her relationship with Jane was taking its toll.

On the second day of Adrienne's stay I was informed that she could be released the next afternoon. Her progress had been remarkable. While she still tired after standing for long periods her overall energy level was improving steadily.

That afternoon I went home with the intention of doing one more sweep of the house for clues. I was restless and sensed that I was overlooking some vital piece of information. Once again the investigation started in our file cabinet, and once again everything seemed to be in order. In fact, the very order of it all suddenly was unsettling.

After several hours I gave up. The key to this mess was Adrienne and a conversation with her was unavoidable. I tried to switch my attention to the more mundane subject of our health insurance. A review of both of our benefits statements as well as some phone numbers for inquiry purposes would be a good beginning. 

My wife was going to require a lot more outpatient treatment. There was rehab for her shoulder and probable counseling sessions for inevitable bouts of PTSD. I thought our insurance would cover those services but I needed verification. Thinking along those lines I went looking for our health insurance folder in the file cabinet.

Of course Adrienne had two folders prepared, one containing my policy information and another hers. My school district supplied insurance was more generous than my wife's coverage so I quickly grabbed mine before heading off to the kitchen. 

With Allie and Drew eating out at their grandparents there was no urgency to start fixing dinner. Instead I put on a fresh pot of coffee to help me concentrate. An insurance review was second only to a sedative in putting one to sleep. Nevertheless, I read on, even taking notes occasionally. When I finished I flipped over loose papers looking for addendums. I found none, only a blank claim form from Adrienne's folder. 

Satisfied that I had everything, I started to fix myself something to eat. It was to be a simple meal: a couple of cans of chili and a salad. The chili I would augment with some spices from the cabinet. With Adrienne absent I could season the mixture as hot as I wanted without her warnings. 

The meal was not as satisfying as I expected. I finished and suddenly found I had no energy to get up from my seat, let alone remove the dishes. My eyes became fixed on the curtains hanging on the window near the sink. I could feel Adrienne's presence having touched every item in the room. Her scent was in the very air. This was HER home, HER place. In the silence the room screamed for her return.

How could I live without her? What shell of a man would I become if she left me? What would I become if I left her? Was either possibility unthinkable? No matter how hard I tried to remain positive, that nagging doubt kept resurfacing. If she had cheated on me with Jane it would mean the end of us. I would not share, not even with a memory of a lover. The dead don't leave. They live forever in us. No, living with Adrienne if she were Jane's lover was not an option.

I prided myself on being flexible, open, and willing to consider opposing views and new ideas. And yet, I hated my inflexibility in this circumstance. Adultery was a non-starter, even if it could by definition never happen again with the same third-party. The only way I could function in this home was to find a way to believe that my fears were unfounded. I had to remove all doubt.

The strain of my fears must have shown on my face for I was interrupted by the appearance of my daughter. I'd neither seen nor heard her enter the house.

"Daddy? Daddy? Are you OK?" Allie touched my shoulder. 

"Oh, I'm fine. I was merely lost in thought." The tenor of my voice must have alerted her because without another word she approached me from the back and wrapped her arms around me while I sat.

"Mom's back tomorrow", she whispered. "We'll all feel better when she's home." The embrace lasted a few moments longer before Allie began walking away. "I've got to get her an outfit and shoes. Pickup will be around two."

Even with Allie in close proximity, the house remained uncharacteristically quiet. It was then that I thought about Drew.

"Where's your brother?"

"He's at Papa Nick's. He was going to come back with me but Leo showed up. Drew and Papa Nick were talking with him when I left. Something is drastically wrong at his house."

"Why do you say that?" 

"He was carrying an overnight bag when he came in." 

With that Allie sort of hunched her shoulders and continued towards the stairs. If Gary had not informed mys of problems in his marriage, they certainly knew now. Having their grandson show up at their doorstep hoping to stay the night had to be a disturbing sign. I would have to remind the kids not to mention any of that to their mother tomorrow. 

"By the way, why was your phone off Wednesday night?" I said as she reached the stairs.

"I forgot to turn it on."

"Alexandra, was I born yesterday? Do I have stamp across my forehead that says 'stupid'? If you have plans on seeing this young man in the future then we best meet him by next weekend. Understood?" 

"Yes, Daddy", she said without argument. 

Why my daughter expected that I would not call her friend Jocelyn once I returned home is beyond me. Once I spoke with the girl it was obvious she was covering for Allie. If you are going to have a friend lie for you then at least they should be convincing. The same goes for a younger brother (as Julia could attest). 

I made a mental note to have a similar conversation with my son when he returned. I knew that he had lied for his sister as we drove up to Williamsport that first night. Better for him to have told me she was with her boyfriend then give me that line about Jocelyn. They both exercised extremely poor judgment.

According to the clock it was only a little after nine and normally too early for me to go to bed. Early or not, my muscles ached. It took considerable effort to go back to our spare bedroom/office and replace the file folder. After a last check of my email I went upstairs to bed.

Sleep came without much opposition. I remember thinking the phrase "connecting the dots", and repeating it over and over again. That was the last conscious thought I had before darkness engulfed me.

I awoke with a start, eyes open in fright, struggling to adjust to the requirements of the room. Eventually I recognized that the room was bathed in a gentle light from street lamps. I heard the sound of my breathing and realized I was concentrating on every breath. 

My heart was racing. The bed felt damp. It was then that I noted my body was hot and sweaty. Something had dragged me out my sleep. A glance at the night stand showed that it was 2am. 

"Oh no, not again, not that damn chili", I thought. Then it hit me. Something WAS out of place. Something in the files was out of place. What was it?

"The dots were out of place", I mused. Without giving it conscious thought I was in my closet reaching for my robe, then looking for my slippers. Once dressed I remembered to turn on some lights as I made my way back downstairs to our home office.

Immediately I pulled my insurance folder, then thought for a moment and pulled Adrienne's too. Opening my folder I flipped through all the pages until I found the blank claim form for Adrienne's insurance carrier. The form did not belong there, it should have been with my wife's other insurance papers. She was too anal about these things to have made such a small mistake. Something must have interrupted her concentration.

I then opened up her folder, replaced the errant form and started skimming through the other documents. It took very little time to find it. When I did I read it several times thinking it was a mistake. 

I had wanted to remove all doubt about Adrienne's activities, now I mentally began connecting the dots. For the first time in days I had clarity about my wife's adventure with Jane in the woods. However, clarity did not bring comfort. My stomach began doing flip-flops as I reread the document through watery lenses. The situation was much worse than I had feared.

Chapter 16: Adrienne returns

We signed Adrienne out and took her home at 2pm the next day. There were so many family and friends there that she and I had no opportunity to talk privately. The same crowd followed us home. A couple hours later she was fast asleep. 

Her nap only lasted a few hours until Gary showed up and the two of them huddled in the office till nine or so. There were some things I had to do with Drew relative to his play the next semester so we were tied up during Gary's visit. Then when he was gone the phone started ringing and Adrienne talked on the phone till almost midnight.

I headed off to school early the next morning. There was a police car parked in front of the house as part of an arrangement with the Lycoming County D. A. They police were not cleared yet to end their guardianship. Their presence made leaving for a few hours an easy decision. I was looking forward to spending time engrossed in other matters. 

My teachers had voted for site selection which meant that a committee of staff was charged with interviewing and selecting teachers and other staff for openings in the coming year. As principal I still had the final hiring decision but that was only on paper. I was actually getting enjoyment from having my teachers engage in the process.

That morning there were only four of us in school: our senior secretary, the union rep, the building engineer and myself. Sydney was the union rep, a position she had held for several years. The committee had charged her and me with checking the references of candidates we had rated highly, and to whom we wanted to extend offers. The task mainly involved making phone calls to prior employers (mainly administrators like myself).

Other than waking up with Adrienne, sitting across a table working with Sydney was one of my favorite things to do. She was truly a delight; always very positive, witty, blessed with a great sense of humor and very easy on the eyes. She also had a voice that could make men weak. Meetings with her never seemed to last long enough. This morning was no exception.

We were getting very candid comments from everyone we called. While some of the employers were initially taken aback having to speak with us about this subject on a speakerphone, Sydney had a way of gaining their trust and making them feel at ease. In minutes they were confiding things about our applicants that we would never get from their applications or interviews. The process was working remarkably well.

About mid-morning my secretary informed me that a Mr. Danas was in the outer office waiting to see me. We had been working steadily since before nine and it was the perfect time for a short break. Sydney agreed and was just standing up to leave as Gary entered my office.

"Sydney, this shouldn't take too long. What say we reconvene in, 15 minutes? Oh, before you go I'd like to introduce you to my brother Gary Danas. Gary, meet Sydney Caldwell our best, no I better say, one of our best teachers."

"It's a pleasure to see you again", said Sydney as she extended her hand. 

Gary was somewhat taken aback. You could see the wheels turning as he struggled to remember where they had met.

"You are you related to Leonides?"

"Yes, he's my son", responded Gary.

"I see the resemblance. I had Leo for 7th and 8th math. You should be very proud. He's a gifted student and was a pleasure to teach. You probably don't remember, but we met during parents/teachers conferences years ago." She gave him a devious smile after she said that.

They went on like that for another minute or so. I wasn't paying attention to what they were saying so much as how they were saying it. It was always interesting to see how men reacted to first meeting Sydney. 

Even though she had a habit of dressing like the matronly Ms. Dove of movie fame, it was impossible to hide that shapely body and if one missed the body the voice and face were sure to merit a longer look.

Gary was a born salesman so I assumed that he was used to encountering very attractive, very smart women in his travels. As he took her hand I could see he was being his professional self, his eyes never strayed below her face. His reaction was predictable, but Sydney's was not. Gary might have missed it, but she scanned him from head to toe before he was one foot into the room. 

Judging from her smile as they shook hands she was pleased with what she saw. That was a new one for Sydney. I had never seen her warm up to anyone so quickly. She was very open with me, but I had known her since she was a child. Our relationship was special, so special that none of the staff knew that we had been acquainted long before she worked in the school.

As she left the office I caught her glancing back at Gary through his reflection in the glass window of the door in front of her. The glance caused me to smile as he took a seat. He had forgotten that they had met many years before when she was but a child. She obviously had not. However, given his demeanor my guess was that whole production went right by him. 

"My apologies for not calling first. I tried your house. Drew said you were at school. "

"Not a problem. Sydney and I needed a break. What was so important?"

"David, how is Adrienne's mental state? Is she showing signs of depression?"

That caught me for a loop. My wife seemed as well as one might suppose for having been shot only a week ago. I didn't expect her to be doing standup comedy. What I did expect was a slow recovery with setbacks along the way. I wondered what she had done to provoke him. 

"No, she's had a little trouble sleeping through the night, but that's to be expected. Why are you asking?" 

"Well, yesterday morning she called me to come over and review her life insurance coverage. I reviewed her policy online and called her back at the hospital. Based upon what she's gone through I didn't think anything of it. Last night she called and asked me to come over and review the kid's college funds. It was somewhat of a waste of time, since I'm the one that set the plans up for you guys. "

"OK, sounds like she's worried about not being here. Remember that she barely escaped death. Her requests seem a little usual coming so close together, but it's probably normal behavior under the circumstances."

"I'm here today because she called me again this morning."

"I'm not even going to ask..."

"It's not what she's asking for David; it's something else. She gets on the line and I get the impression she wants to tell me something. It's like she gets ready to say it, then she backs away. I'm tempted to ask her what it is but I don't want to upset her. Do you have any idea what's going on?"

I threw my hands up and shook my head as if exasperated myself.

"You two still haven't talked about why she was camping with Jane in the first place, have you?"

"No, I'll find out tonight. I'm pretty sure I already know the reasons."

He raised his eyes brows momentarily expecting me to elaborate. When I didn't he continued. "Well, I promised to be at your place at nine. She wants me to review your retirement plans. "

"Don't worry, why don't you call her and reschedule. Tonight might not be the best time. Any progress with Leo?"

"No, Giselle either. I wish she showed as much initiative as my sister. My wife thinks taking large sums out of our bank account doesn't require a notification to her husband."

"What?" 

"Hey, I don't want to go into it here. You're busy and I'll tell you later."

After he left Sydney and I continued working until noon, at which time I closed up the school and headed home. The walk did me good. It allowed me to make another decision. My quest for a Doctorate would be put on hold indefinitely. My family deserved all of my attention for the foreseeable future.

I took the long way home past our baseball field. On a hunch I wanted to see if I could find Leo. It paid off; I caught sight of him practicing with Drew and some of their teammates. I took a seat in the stands and waited. 

They had evidently started much earlier in that morning. They timed their practice to avoid the heat of the afternoon sun so I did not have long to wait. I caught up with Leo as he and Drew were preparing to leave. 

I asked my son to hurry home to his mother. There were some prescriptions she needed right away. When he left I started walking with Leo.

Leo is not only my nephew, but my godson. After his father, I'm his closest male relative in terms of temperament and affinity. We've always been able to talk easily and I counted on that same rapport working that afternoon.

We discussed the practice, his play, and then I maneuvered the conversation to his relationship with Eileen. It was obvious that he really cared for her; for he was anxious to tell me all the wonderful things she had done for him, and how much he admired her. Whether this was a case of puppy love or the beginning of a serious romance only time could tell.

Eileen had introduced him to art, to a world he had not taken seriously before. With her he had traveled to most of the museums in the area and many of the hidden treasure troves known by the most devout adherents. As he retraced their adventures I found myself wondering why his mother would have objected to Eileen's influence. Certainly the girl shared many of Giselle's same interests.




Ardmore Pt. 04



It was when I approached the problem of his parents that he temporarily withdrew. After some skillful probing he revealed the burning core of his anger towards them and the incident that sparked his growing resentment.

It was then, after he told me his secret that I realized I could not help him. I only hoped that in sharing his story that I might reduce his isolation and confusion. I could promise only to speak with his father on his behalf. When I arrived I realized my world was becoming very complicated.

Chapter 17: Meeting Jane's parents

After returning home I picked up one call that was totally unexpected. The caller was Jane's father asking if he and his wife could visit with Adrienne later that evening. Unbeknownst to me, she had called them from the hospital the last day we were in Williamsport. I assume she expressed her condolences, but with Adrienne it might have been more than that.

I asked them to hold while I told her who was calling. She picked up on the extension and the meeting was set. 

Jane's parents arrived a little after seven. The kids were out of the house, by prearrangement. Whatever direction our meeting would take, the discussion was not one my children needed to hear.

I greeted the Glattfelders at the door. They looked to be about in their late fifties or early sixties. Mrs. Glattfelder was still an attractive lady slightly taller than Adrienne. Her husband stood above both her and me, letting me know where Jane had inherited her height.

I had understood from earlier conversations with Jane that she was an only child. Even expressing my sorrow for their loss seemed grossly inadequate. I almost told them that too but thought better of it. They gave a customary thank you and I could see the strain as it was stated. No parent should outlive his or her child.

Adrienne was waiting for them in the living room on a loveseat near the fireplace. When they finished exchanging embraces, I ushered them over towards the couch which faced my wife. After asking if I could get them some refreshment, they declined and I turned to make my departure. I thought they had come solely to speak with my wife.

Truth is I held some resentment about the photograph Jane's mother had taken. If this woman had endorsed an illicit affair between my wife and her daughter, I would have never permitted the couple in my home. Only my lack of solid evidence and a sense of compassion permitted some courtesy towards them, even so, I did not want to remain in their company.

I had planned to discuss their visit with my wife later when we were alone in our bedroom, so it came as a surprise when Mrs. Glattfelder spoke as I was leaving the room.

"Please Mr. Martens I'd like you stay if you don't mind. We wanted to meet with both of you and we know how awkward this may seem." It wasn't her voice that drew me back, but her eyes had a wanting glare, a sadness that called out. I turned and took the seat next to Adrienne. Confusion must have been written across my face, for Mrs. Glattfelder managed a weak smile as she directed her next statement to me.

'As you can well imagine it's been crazy at our house this last week, what with the constant questions from the reporters. I wanted you to know how sorry we are that we released that picture of your wife and Jane. We never expected it to be used like it was. To imply that they were...well that's just not true." She then looked over at Adrienne. 

"You were the one who kept our baby from killing herself when she became sick and was rejected by that woman. It was never our intent to cause you or your husband problems. Jane loved you like a sister."

"Mr. Martens you need to know that it was me who asked your wife to speak with our daughter. We didn't know who else to turn to. When we learned that Jane had met with that woman a couple of weeks ago we were afraid she would fall back into that same self-destructive pattern. It was bad enough that she abandoned her when she needed her most, but Jane then told us she was married. We didn't raise her that way."

Mrs. Glattfelder leaned back slightly in the seat as if to catch her breath. Her husband immediately put his arm around her. It was enough to reestablish her bearings.

"Are you sure I can't get you something? Perhaps something to drink, coffee, tea, some juice?"

"No thank you, that won't be necessary. We aren't staying that long. We really wanted to apologize and see how you were doing. I take it that you've made some decisions?"

Adrienne looked briefly at me, biting her lower lip before she answered. "Yes, and I had Jane to thank for that. She helped me like only she could. I only wish..." I drew her to me as her voice began to waiver.

Adrienne went on to tell them of her love for Jane and how very sorry she was for both them and for her. Thus began a cathartic conversation aimed at raising the dead, if not in life, then in reverence. 

When the Glattfelders finally stood up to leave the atmosphere was charged with emotion. I did not know what to say and my guests were obviously too overcome to continue. They could not have remained under the circumstances. We moved with them slowly to the exit. 

Jane's father had been quiet the entire time, so I was caught off guard when he decided to make the parting comments. He had difficulty getting the words out and paused several times. "They only released our baby to us a couple of days ago... She will be buried the day after tomorrow and we wanted to extend a personal invitation to you both. Only family and close friends will be there, and I know she would have very much wanted you there too."

We saw them move to their car and slowly drive off. 

Adrienne turned to me. "David I feel tired. Would you please help me get ready for bed?"

I moved behind her as we made our way up the stairs to our bedroom. Without fanfare or conversation I undressed her, then gently washed her and redressed her for bed. I had forgotten the intimacy such actions conveyed. Those simple tasks seemed to recharge us both.

I placed Adrienne on her side of the bed and used the pillows to prop her into a more comfortable sitting position. Next I took a seat in our reading chair which directly faced her.

"I suppose it's time we had that talk Lit," I began.

While my tone was flat, she did not miss my using her childhood nickname. For a fleeting moment I saw her eyes blink and a sad smile cross her lips.

Chapter 18: A benevolent deception

What followed was a simple story really, more about what close friends do for one another. Adrienne was somewhat subdued in the retelling.

"It's like what Mrs. Glattfelder said earlier; three weeks ago she called me, virtually begging me to speak with Jane. She was acting erratically, exhibiting a similar behavior to her problem several years ago. So I called her at work."

"We hadn't talked for a while, not since after you and I celebrated our twentieth." Adrienne attempted another smiled when she said that, it faded fast when she saw I was not reciprocating.

She continued, "We talked for a while, about nothing in particular, which was odd for Jane. She always had so much going on in her life. I remember thinking that she was merely trying to keep me on the phone, that she had something to tell me and she was delaying as long as possible."

"Eventually she told me she had seen her old girlfriend. The woman had called her about a week before. No contact in over three years and then she calls like nothing had happened. Anyway, she got Jane. They went out to dinner then spent the next day together looking at antiques."

"May I stop you for second? I'm having a small problem. You see I didn't know Jane was gay. I know now of course, since I learned that in the newspapers. Oh, and Gary said he knew." I tried not to sound too annoyed, so as not to cause her to shut down, but there was no escaping my annoyance on finding this out.

"I thought you knew. I guess I unconsciously didn't tell you. I didn't want you to change your opinion of her."

"It was too late for that. You told me she was involved with someone who was married. Male or female it would have been just as wrong. I thought she had better sense than that. Are you telling me now that you were not that person?"

Adrienne looked at me and I saw a flash of anger in eyes. "No, I am not that person." 

"Please continue" I responded before folding my arms across my chest.

"I couldn't believe she would even entertain a relationship with that woman again. Jane had been in love with her. Then when she found out she had to have a mastectomy this...person dropped her like she had the plague. It was devastating. Jane almost attempted suicide David. It took the better part of a year before she regained her equilibrium."

"And you were aware of all of this as it was occurring." I added.

"No, certainly not. I only learned about their affair after Jane had cancer. She kept it hidden from me; to this day I still don't know who the woman was. Jane said I had met her but other than that she wouldn't go into any detail."

"I only knew that Jane said she was still married. I could see where their liaison was going so I urged Jane not to get pulled into the same trap. I could tell she was of two minds. She had been celibate since her surgery and though they were dating again, they hadn't been intimate yet."

"Even so, the woman was pressuring her and trying to buy her way back with expensive gifts. At first Jane accepted her generosity but their appearance was causing her to rethink their relationship."

"She was torn David, but I knew that if I could spend some time with her I could get her to see the damaging effect of another affair. The conference was coming up and it looked like a perfect opportunity to talk with her face to face at some length."

"That gets you to the conference Lit. You were both there on Monday, the first day. What I want to know is how do you end up in park on Tuesday? How does a counseling session with a friend turn into a camping trip? Don't tell me that you both decided to just pick up and go Monday night."

"No, it wasn't like that. We decided on the trip that Friday before. Jane told me what accessories I needed and she picked them up for me that weekend."

"Great, that explain the logistics, but I'm still lost. How do you guys decide to go camping in the first place? I take it that that was Jane's doing. When I picture you babe, camping in woods is not the backdrop. I guess I should ask, how does Jane get you into the woods with her?"

I was willing myself to sit impassively. Adrienne must have been unnerved by my continued posturing and felt a need to reassure me.

"David, this was not some romantic adventure. She is...was, my friend."

I let that statement sit there awhile before I answered, "I believe you." 

Ordinarily, you would think that she would have been relieved to hear that. She might have if she's had not seen the huge frown on my face. The idea of her and Jane curled up lovingly in the woods never made sense to me and the evidence supported that. 

No, she lied to me, about something much, much more important.

"I'm listening."

Adrienne shifted slightly, getting a better angle for her back. She placed another pillow unto her lap to take pressure off her sling. I was unmoved and playing my role for maximum affect. 

"You have to understand that Jane and I talked on and off for all of the week preceding the conference. Every time I thought she was coming around to my argument she would slide back into ambivalence. Her girlfriend was continuing with the seduction, calling her every night, promising to put her up in an apartment if she moved back here. I was at my wits end as to what to do."

She stopped at that point, probing my eyes for some recognition of sympathy. When she could bear no more, I saw the tears begin to form. That is when I was finally moved to get up from my chair to go to the bathroom and wet a washcloth.

When I returned I proceeded to gently wipe her face, all while she looked up at me like a frightened child. My questioning of her was over at that point. It was easy enough to connect the remaining dots. The missing information was insignificant in relation to the major problem we faced.

I assumed a spot next to her on the bed. Lit leaned in, placing her head on my shoulder. I in turn put my arm protectively around her. Her muscles relaxed against me in the smallest yet most sincere measure of the trust we shared. 

"Weren't you going through your own problems when Jane's mother called that first time?" I asked. "When did you tell Jane about YOUR condition? Was it that same Friday? You played on her affection for you didn't you? You used your problem to deflect her worry about her girlfriend. You knew that if presented with it, she would immediately come to your aid. It was she who suggested the trip."

My wife turned in a sad stare. It occurred to me then that she hadn't suspected I would be aware of her condition or how she used it to help her friend. She then resumed her explanation.

"It's true. I knew Jane would help if I asked. I know you're bothered that I did not come to you first. It wasn't intentional. I can explain," she began.

"It's unnecessary at this point. Your choosing to confide in Jane doesn't bother me. It wasn't an either-or situation. Like I said, the only details I don't have are pretty insignificant. We need to focus on getting you better."

"No, let me tell you the rest first."

I sighed and tightened my hold, whereupon she continued. "They did a biopsy. I have breast cancer David. They say it's stage 2 even though it hasn't spread to my lymph nodes."

"I know, I spoke with your doctor."

"I should have told you before. I wanted to, but, well the idea of losing my breast. I don't want to..." She paused, and a tear ran down her cheek. "After each shower I would look and inspected again, trying to imagine being without my left breast, wondering why me. Wondering if you would still want me."

"You wondered If I would still want you? How many times have I kissed that line going down the center your belly?" I don't want to lose you Lit. I love you, breasts or no breasts. You should have told me. I assume you told Jane because she was a survivor?"

"Yes. I wasn't going to at first, but I needed to. She had beaten it once. She had been through everything I was going through. Jane became MY counselor. She persuaded me to get yet another opinion. She helped me understand the real impact of some of my treatment options." 

"Knowing how you avoid doctors, I'm glad she got you to get moving on this." I interjected.

"Jane also warned me about how it might change my personal relationships. It wasn't the cancer that almost killed her. Its how the one person she loved turned from her, made her feel less than a woman, worthless as a companion."

"And you thought I would react like that?"

"No, deep down I knew you wouldn't, I just needed some reassurance. I knew I could rely on Jane to help me work through the doubt."

"Why was that specific site chosen for your campsite?"

"Jane joined a survivor's support group and they took excursions to the park twice a year. She really enjoyed those trips. It gave her a chance to reflect, to refocus energies. It was almost like a sacred place to her. She wanted to share it with me hoping it would have the same effect, that it would strengthen my determination. She was so enthusiastic that I readily agreed to go."

"I can't get over the vision of you traipsing through the underbrush. Little Miss 'I hate snakes' in the forest." I joked. Lit playfully swatted my leg. 

"I assume that you were curious about the scaring, that there was some show'n tell during your last night at the campsite?"

Lit first looked down, and then up at me as she nodded in assent. I didn't take Jane's topless display as anything sexual. When it was said to me that Rudman had seen some nudity at the campsite I knew Jane was probably the one who exposed herself. My wife needed to hear my lack of concern about that incident. 

It took a lot of courage for Jane to show her friend her reconstructed breast. It was very hard on both of them. It wasn't difficult to image them hugging and crying immediately thereafter. That might have been a true Kodak moment had William Rudman not decided to commit murder in the same instance.

Now that we had cleared the air about her trip, there was a lot I had to learn about breast cancer, and pronto. I could not help Lit unless I had a solid understanding of what we were up against. 

Then there was a support group. Her first line of support was our families. That caused me to ask another question.

"Lit, who knows about our problem, other than me, and Jane's mother?"

"No one else." She picked up on my question right away. "David, no, absolutely not. You are not going to get everyone involved in this. No."

I was prepared for that argument. Our families would naturally 'circle the wagons' around her. There was no preventing that; in fact, even to try to prevent them would be more of hassle than it was worth. 

"This isn't like your hysterectomy Lit. This time we have to tell everyone. The kids have a right to know, and you can't keep this a secret from your parents. How would you explain that your mother?"

"Furthermore, Gary has an interest and you can't expect me to keep it from my folks. And if they know, my sisters will too. Face it; we are your first line support group. You'll just have to live with that...no pun intended."

Looking very satisfied with myself I let her have my biggest grin. 

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" She fired back.

In response, I leaned over and kissed her. I missed that part of our exchanges this last week. We were like two teenagers, both afraid to separate and lose the magic. When we did she shifted her torso to snuggle closer into my chest.

As I was enjoying the moment I remembered the other serious problem we had to address. I could not keep the truth from Lit. Her activities had inadvertently brought to light something that would have horrific consequences for some, while affecting all of us in some way.

I sighed in resignation and she turned to look at me once again. "What's wrong?"

"I know who Jane's lover was. She kept her identity from you for a very good reason. It's Giselle."

"OH NO! That can't be. Are you sure?"

I was. When I found the bracelet in Jane's bag I thought at first it might have come from Gloria. Then I recalled that Giselle shopped at Howard's store too. Gary's statement earlier that morning nailed it for me. However, it was the final confirmation that I regretted most. It was the only that I could safely share with Lit.

"Leo told me this afternoon. He and his girlfriend were visiting the antique district in New Hope last month when they spotted Giselle and Jane sharing a kiss. They were lip-locked in Giselle's car. Fortunately for him, neither of them saw him."

"I haven't told Gary yet." I added after a short pause.

"I want to be there when you do." 

When we invited Gary over the next day we would tell him that his wife had been Jane's lover. We would tell him that the relationship was at least three years old. We would tell him that his only son was acting out because he could not handle that level of betrayal. We would tell him all of this because we had to, because Adrienne's burdens would be too much to carry if we did not.

My wife, my love, the mother of my children, and my best friend had breast cancer. I would not tolerate any distractions as we fought the real battle for her life.

Epilogue:

Gary filed for divorce from Giselle within a week of our talk. His filing caught her completely by surprise. She responded with a personal order of protection seeking to have him removed from their home. The gambit technically failed, but Gary did leave voluntarily, as did Leo. In spite of all the negative adjectives to describe her, she had been a caring mother. So I knew that the rejection of her son was almost a deathblow. 




Ardmore



I was confused and did not hide it well. "No, I didn't. I dropped my wife off at the train station in Philadelphia on Sunday. She was supposed to be attending a conference in Harrisburg until Thursday. Now you tell me she has been here the last two days. I don't understand."

"Mr. Martens, do you smoke?"

"No, never acquired the habit."

"Well I was going to grab a smoke myself. It might be more appropriate that we continue this conversation outside if you don't mind."

"Sure."

We walked out of the hospital and stood on the sidewalk about half a block from the entrance. True to his word, Havlechek lit up a cigarette. He took several puffs and reviewed the skyline before he continued. During the silence, I reflected back on my wife's friend. The pain of her loss was only beginning to creep into my thoughts.

Jane Glattfelder was a social worker like Adrienne. They had known each other for a little over five years and had become great friends. Three years ago, she transferred out of Adrienne's office to their Harrisburg branch a couple hours away. Adrienne confided that the move had something to do with Jane ending a romance with someone who was married. I remember at the time being surprised Jane would get herself entangled in such an affair, yet pleased that she had ended it.

Adrienne however, was very involved. Jane took the break-up exceptionally hard and my wife acted more like her mother-confessor. There were numerous long late night phone calls and Adrienne took several trips out to Jane's parents (where she was living) to speak directly with her. All of this attention was significant in lifting her depression. 

Being almost 10 years younger than us, I always thought that Adrienne assumed a 'big sister' role in their relationship. My wife was known for being both empathetic and nurturing. Add those qualities to her ever present desire to be helpful, and one could understand how she became a natural mentor and how Jane came to be treated like a younger sibling. My only issue with Jane was her penchant for borrowing small sums of money periodically from Adrienne, but that was a mere quirk in her personality.

Jane was not without her own capabilities. She was almost six feet tall, leggy and blond. She was pretty, but in a 'girl next door' kind of way. A person overflowing with energy; she ran marathons, skied, hiked, cycled, played volleyball and in general was the picture of fitness. She was as gregarious as she was smart. In all things, she projected an air of confidence. She was a woman that could, and did, intimidate men. 

She had been a guest in our house on numerous occasions. I genuinely liked her. She was a fun person to be around, had a quick wit and great sense of humor. After she moved, I knew that she and Adrienne continued their friendship thru frequent phone calls. In fact, I had intercepted one call as recently as last week. 

"How would you characterize the relationship between your wife and Ms. Glattfelder?" spoke the Lieutenant interrupting my reflections. "How friendly were they?"

"They were good friends. I think they spoke on the phone at least two to three times a week. Adrienne was Jane's mentor when she worked in our area and she thought of her like a sister."

"Was there more to their relationship?" he prodded with a very serious look.

"How do you mean? I don't know where you are going with this." He didn't respond. This forced me to raise an eyebrow while scanning his face. 

"The D.A. plans on prosecuting this case as a hate crime," he said without emotion.

I suddenly understood the inference, even though I was having difficulty processing the full implication. 

"You can say it Lieutenant. You're asking if they were lovers? The answer is no, absolutely not. "

He then explained that a bumper sticker on Jane's SUV indicated she had been at the park last year. In checking their gear, they found at least one overtly sexual item that indicated the women might have been sharing a romantic encounter. However, it was not the items they found but the killer himself that provided the basis for their judgment. 

William Oscar Rudman was brought into custody at 9:00am that morning. A 30 year old self-described mountain man, he confessed to the murder of Jane Glattfelder and the shooting of my wife. He claimed that he came across the women twice yesterday. 

Upon greeting them on the trail he was offended when one of them, the 'tall pretty blonde' failed to respond to his greeting. He decided to watch her from a distance and did so for many hours. That night he caught sight of them naked making out. Incensed at their 'offense against nature' he decided that their act merited death. The shooting occurred moments later.

Jane took four shots, mainly in an apparent effort to shield my wife; even so, Adrienne was hit twice. Fortunately for her, she went down under Jane and in doing so managed to elude Rudman's rifle sight. He mistakenly believed that he had killed her too. 

I was spellbound as I listened to the story. Then I simply tuned out his voice. It's funny how your mind wanders when you want to avoid the distasteful or the painful. I was worried about some connection to my past in this shooting. That now seemed trivial. Right then I was focused on the mountains in the background. 

I could see houses perched on the ridge. What a view those folks must have had. To them everything looked peaceful and perfect. They couldn't see the turmoil that was churning within me or know how much I would have paid to trade places with them at that moment.

"Thank you Lieutenant, I know you didn't have to tell me what you did. We didn't have this conversation." 

"Mr. Martens, I know you have your son with you, and you have other children?"

"Yes, a daughter."

"You need to concentrate on them too. Remember that we are still investigating this attack. We do not know all of the facts. I can tell you that at least one of Rudmand's statements does not check out so don't draw too many conclusions from our talk; try to leave that for when you return home and talk with your wife. This situation is going to be difficult enough for your family. I'm astounded that the press haven't picked up on this yet."

"You're right. My family is going to need me." I agreed. I hesitated to return to the confines of the hospital; instead, I moved over to a nearby bench and took a seat. The Lieutenant sensing I needed to be alone left me there.

I was physically exhausted, and now with these latest revelations I was emotionally drained as well. If I could have simply walked away from this entire mess for a few days, I would have. However, I had the kids to consider…and Adrienne as well; I could never just leave her in such a state, regardless of what she had supposedly done. It was an easy decision to stay, but it was not one without regret. 

The idea of Adrienne carrying on with Jane did not make sense. The two just did not process. However, my anguish was more primitive than that. I was having real difficulty with her apparent lie. In all the years we were married she had never lied to me. 

I could not believe she could have been so deceitful. It was not like her to do such a thing. I had to hear the story from her. I wanted to know what she thought she was doing. Whatever it was, it could not have turned out worse than it had now.

My wife had not given me reasons to think she was having an affair, and most certainly not with Jane. They talked a few times a week but she never hid her calls or acted suspiciously when she spoke with her. Sure, her job was demanding, and she did on occasion work long hours, but that was understandable. I did not want to believe that this was a case where she hid her intensions in plain sight, but I feared it might.

I recalled that she first told me about her conference it was in late April. I remember because I was initially concerned that it might interfere with plans I had for our anniversary. 

Our 20th anniversary was at the end of May. At that time, I presented her with a 2-carat diamond necklace, and then we took a limousine to New York, saw a Broadway show and stayed the weekend at the Plaza. The look on her face when I gave her the necklace was priceless. She actually cried. Were those tears of joy or a reflection of guilt? I winced for having even thought her behavior was not genuine.

However, she and Jane being together at a campsite did not seem like an example of an impulsive action. If they were going to ditch the conference then why go camping? There had to be advanced planning involved and other reasons in play. I wanted to know how long ago they dreamed up their getaway.

Those questions would have to wait though. Regardless of how she got there, Adrienne was a gunshot victim. My heart wanted to protect her while she was vulnerable. There was time enough to question her when she regained her strength. In her circumstance, we did not need any unnecessary distractions that might further upset her. 

I went looking for Gary and Drew and found them in the cafeteria. I was pleased to see that they were eating alone and that no one appeared to be paying them much attention. I did not want to sound an alarm but I needed to speak with them away from the hospital. My concern at that point was the press. I would have to tell them both everything. I didn't want to, but it was that or have it spun by the press.

"Hey guys, can you meet me at the car as soon as you can? I parked in the same spot we had this morning."

Gary looked at me, but before he could voice a question Drew spoke up. "Dad, has Mom's condition changed?" The question was direct but stated with obvious anxiety. 

"No. Your mother is still resting. I need to bring you both up to date on the investigation before the reporters get here, that's all. I just finished speaking with the State Police."

That was enough to spur them to action. I drove us out of town towards an observation post that we passed on the road to Williamsport. It was a good six miles away. 

"David, where are we going?" said Gary

"We're going to a place where we can talk without being interrupted. Has anyone heard from Allie?

"Dad, remember she said she was intending to spend the night at Jocelyn's?"

"You're right, all this time; I forgot she was sleeping over. Drew, please call her on my cell."

I listened as he placed the call and heard him leaving another message. This was beginning to annoy me. 

"Do you know Jocelyn's last name?"

"Sorry Dad. I know she goes to school with Allie but I haven't met her. She lives in Berwyn, that's all I know."

"Ok, we'll just have to wait until Allie picks up the message."

I should have gotten all the information about Allie's plans last night. She was 19, a sophomore in college, and very independent. Add to that the fact that she was a 'Daddy's girl' and I had only myself to blame. Adrienne was so much better at these things. She would have known her friend's last name, her address and phone number too. It was too late now. With luck, we would speak before the reporters caught up with her.

We parked at the observation station. There were no other vehicles in the lot so I thought it was safe to exit the car. As soon as we had all gathered I briefed them on the conversation I had with the Lieutenant, leaving out some of Rudman's statement.

"Mom and Jane aren't that way. Are you saying that Mom is gay?" shouted Drew. "No, I don't believe it. They're wrong."

Gary immediately went to his sister's defense. "What bullshit! They're making the wrong assumptions. Just because Jane was gay doesn't mean they were romantically involved. They're giving credence to the madman who shot her. Why are we supposed to believe him?"

"Jane was gay?" I whispered, my eyes wide with surprise.

"Sure. You didn't know? Geez David, I've known for years, I just assumed…"

"Assumed what? I never asked about her sexuality, and it certainly never came up in conversation. Why would it? As far as I knew Jane always had guys hitting on her."

I started pacing the parking lot. I was besides myself and more confused now than an hour before. If there was any one thing Adrienne would keep from me, it had to be this? Gary, seeing my irritation chose to elaborate further.

"I can understand it's not something you ask someone. I was like you, but Giselle picked up on it when she met her. I'd never thought about it, but it did come as a surprise, so I asked Adrienne later and she confirmed it. I assumed she had mentioned it to you too."

Gary was now beginning to see the situation more clearly. If I were showing doubts about Adrienne's truthfulness then others would too, so he continued, "It's still all bullshit. There's no way Adrienne would ever do such a thing, no way."

I knew they would challenge the current assessment but I never expected this disclosure. The problem of the press remained so I tried to refocus my thoughts. Still the question came forth, why had Adrienne kept Jane's sexuality a secret from me? I did the only thing I could at the time; I changed the subject.

"Look, I'm not repeating what the State Police said so that we can debate the merits. The press is going to notice. Now that we've been forewarned we can prepare. Adrienne doesn't need this crap so first of all this topic is off limits with her. Even if she brings it up, ignore her. Our first priority is to help her get better."

"We'll sue the bastards if they publish this wild speculation," thundered Gary. 

I had to interrupt him. He was going off and I could see by Drew's expression and body language that he was not handling it well. Gary looked at him and quickly changed his stance. Whatever he was going to say next he held as he again looked towards me.

"We can discuss this issue later after Adrienne is home…and well. The only answers that mean anything to me will come from her. You need to adopt that same position. Right now we need to do whatever we can not to upset her. She may not know that Jane is dead. If that's the case then she's likely to take that news hard. She needs us to be strong for her. Got it?"

Both my brother and my son slowly nodded their heads in agreement. I knew that if I appealed to them to protect my wife they would put aside all other concerns. However, in my opinion, in order to 'protect' Adrienne we had to have a set strategy for the media.

"Now about the news folks," I said. "This story is going to have major exposure here. We talked about that in the car. I thought at that time that it might not get the same attention back home. I was wrong. I think we need to prepare for the worst."

"What's the worst Dad? We can ignore them if they come around."

"The worst is the indirect fallout. The media have a murder and…a potential love triangle." I barely got that sentence out, but it needed to be said. 

"The reporters will begin camping out at the hospital and at home. They are going to dig into Jane's life as well as your mother's and mine. They will likely approach your mother's co-workers and our friends. How we handle ourselves can make a big difference in Adrienne's recovery. I would like to get out in front of this. If the news people ask for an interview, refer them to me or if that fails, give it to them."

"The press loves transparency. The more accessible you are the more likely you are to get sympathetic stories. The currency these folks use is access. By talking with them, we have some opportunity to shape what they write. It would be risky but I think it's better than letting them rummage around in our private lives creating havoc. Adrienne certainly doesn't need us to lose our cool or unknowing assist in creating stories that might be hurtful."

I was aiming my argument at Gary hoping to get his buy-in, when Drew interjected. "Do you really think they will look into our lives too? He said.

"Unfortunately, yes. This is not about the truth of what happened, it's about the selling of news. If our stories prove interesting, then yes, you will be drawn into it too. They will more likely come after your mother and me though. We're married and she was shot while alone in the woods with a gay friend. That is the makings of a good love triangle, a classic scandal. If you guys are interviewed, it will be in support of that context. The fallout will likely be through your friends and acquaintances." 

"It's not so much what they say in the papers, it's how our friends, family, and coworkers perceive what they say or what rumors get started, and there will be rumors and some of them will be vicious."

"Weren't you guys interviewed last year about my student hacker?" Drew signaled an acknowledgement while Gary was looking elsewhere.

They had and I knew it. As a middle school principal, I was used to managing controversy. It had become an implied part of my job description. On several occasions, I had been near the center of unwanted press attention. All of the incidents had occurred in recent years and none had garnered much media attention beyond our small town. That it was our local news people made the attention that much more intrusive. My role became prominent because I often acted contrary to conventional wisdom.

One incident involved a seventh grader who hacked into the municipal computer system. The mayor wanted the kid's hide. The young boy was not a menace; in fact, he was an honor roll student. His did not do any damage, merely found a hole in security and made the mistake of enthusiastically telling the township authorities what he found.

I advocated on his behalf, kept the kid in school without any harm to his record and even arranged to have him assist our computer teacher as an informal offering of community service.

A few months later, a sixth grader made unflattering comments about her English teacher on her private web site. No threats were made nor intended, but the critique of the teacher was harsh. What intrigued me though was the critique itself; it was one of the most literate I had ever read, particularly given the child's age. I made sure her apology was just as cogent.

Several board members wanted her removed from school, even though none of her web activities took place on school grounds or used school property. I balked and argued based on free speech. Of course, it helped that the school district's chief counsel was on my side. Our position prevailed and that child became one of our yearbook editors the next year. 

These kids exercised relatively minor errors in judgment, yet the local media pursued their stories with a ferocity usually reserved for corrupt politicians. Why the scrutiny? Well, it turned out that the young hacker was the grandson of a political rival of the mayor. Word reached me that the mayor pressured the local paper to move the story to the front page. I got in the way and therefore, became a target too. 

The reporters even sought out my relatives looking to root out contrary views. Fortunately, I never shied away from requests for interviews and that accessibility helped guarantee that the stories were short lived.

Those were minor incidents blown way out of proportion. This was murder. We would not have that kind of control in this situation; we could not merely spout 'no comment' and expect them to just go away. That was enough reason for us to attempt to manage our coverage. I explained all of this to both Drew and Gary. However, Gary was still steaming about the previous assertions about Adrienne. He remained unmoved. 

"Fuck'em," he let out. "I say we don't say anything, no comments, no interviews, nothing. If they want to spread gossip we shouldn't do anything to help them."

I looked over at Drew for his feelings on the subject. He needed to be a party to the decision we reached since he would have to abide by it. I wanted his complete buy in. His facial expression however, began to mimic Gary's. It took him but a few seconds to express the same attitude.




Ardmore



"I agree with Uncle Gary. We need to ignore the reporters."

They were adamant. I did not agree, but was not in the mood for a protracted argument. We needed a solid front. This was about keeping my family together and the press represented yet another threat. "OK, we'll do it your way. No interviews..."

That settled, we headed back to the hospital. We were exposed to what I knew would be an aggressive media campaign, and I was too exhausted to argue my case. I was still wrestling with my own guilt for not being there to protect her. It was an irrational position since I had no idea where she was prior to the attack; but that did not matter. The feelings of having failed her remained and now they competed with a fear that I might have lost her in another, completely unexpected way.

Two TV vans were parked outside when we arrived. Several reporters and their cameramen were stationed at the doors. I surmised that the hospital staff was keeping them from entering. I saw another reporter broadcasting live in the side lot. 

We waded through the crowd without acknowledging any of them and might have made it unscathed but Drew was wearing a Phillies baseball cap. Someone keyed in on that and he suddenly found himself being blocked by several overly aggressive reporters.  

"Are you Adrienne Martens' son?" one of them said. 

Drew stopped just long enough to raise suspicions and attract the others. 

"What's her condition?" came the follow up. "Have you spoken to her about the shooting?" another shouted. "Did she know William Rudman before the incident? "How does she feel about her partner's death?" 

That remark caused Drew to stop and turn towards the questioner. 

"How well did you know Jane Glattfelder?" interjected another reporter. I rushed to Drew's side ignoring the interrogators while Gary blocked them on his other flank. Neither of us spoke a word nor looked directly at any of the people there. We made it inside and they were still none the wiser, except that now they KNEW we were related to Adrienne.

We resumed our vigil at the hospital taking our turns sitting at her beside throughout the day. She was still out of it, but sleeping peacefully; however, there was less banter between us as we each tried to come to contain our anxiety about her not being conscious. The wait was exhausting. 

Hospital rules forced us to keep our cells off, so by the time we returned to the hotel I had numerous calls from Allie, my parents, my sisters as well as a number of friends. Fortunately, Gary had spoken to Giselle and she had in turn forwarded updates to Allie on her mother's condition. Gary had also talked to mys, who were away visiting family in Greece. 

When I finally spoke with my daughter, I tried to sound as upbeat as possible. Allie said that we had a couple of calls from the local papers. I asked her to avoid giving any information and explained they were parked outside the hospital. Given that her mother would be transferred in a few days, I thought it would not be necessary for her to come up to see her. 

I avoided discussion of what was driving the media curiosity yet still tried to use them as means to try to keep her at home. The ruse failed. She was determined to ride up with her aunt. Even so, I was somewhat calmed by the end of the call, more relieved to have heard her voice. There was longed for normality to our exchange.

My parents were another matter. They called twice, the second time as they were entering town. My mother's anxiety on the call only added to my own. With my parents came two of my sisters, the other two would be arriving the next day.

In over twenty years of marriage, I had never been ashamed or embarrassed by my wife's actions. Now as I waited for my family I dreaded being asked the whys of her trip. I had no answers and would be visibly embarrassed if pressed. I was also ashamed of myself for letting my pride influence me in such a manner.

Until all the facts were known I felt I had to protect the image of my wife within the family. How to accomplish that deed was eluding me. I worried about that up until they all arrived (which did not take that long).

For the last seven years, I have been the principal of a middle school. I manage a staff of forty, of which 95% were women. That is the unspoken problem in public education, not enough men in attendance. Nevertheless, that's besides the point, I was used to interacting with, and managing women. Yet, when confronted with my mother and sisters I was suddenly a subordinate, the baby of the house again.

My parents and siblings had known Adrienne long before we married and to a person they loved her. Rumors and news articles to the contrary, they were not going to discuss or question her behavior, particularly not in front of our children or myself. Their discussion stayed on her current medical condition and future rehabilitation.

I was encouraged by the time we all parted for our rooms that night. My sisters have a knack for organization. During the ride, they acquired the names of the doctors and nursing staff that had treated Adrienne. My oldest sister, Maria, herself now a teacher of nursing at Johns Hopkins, had started pulling background checks on all the nursing personnel. I was taken by surprise that they had secured such private data but offered no questions.

Maria in turn outlined all of the logistics for the transport of Adrienne, her resettlement at our home, and care for her once she arrived. She would need extensive therapy, if not for her physical ailments then certainly for her emotional trauma. If they had any concerns about the facts surrounding her shooting they were well hidden, for I was warned more than once that they expected me to unselfishly support her throughout this ordeal.

The person who benefited most from their presence was Drew. This was particularly due to my mother's intervention. She sat next to him at dinner and they talked throughout the evening. I knew it had helped, for he went to sleep as soon as we returned to our room. 

While he slept, I sat silently mulling over all that had transpired in the last 20 hours. It is not easy confronting your own pride. For all of my worry about my wife's possible infidelity nothing mattered as much as her still being alive. For that, I was especially thankful.

Chapter 3: Insight Withheld

I awoke the next day feeling more hopeful. Adrienne would most likely be awake and ready to address some of the unanswered questions. Given her current state, I wanted to ensure that no one attempted to pressure her. 

As was the custom of the hotel, they placed a copy of USA Today outside the door of each room. Hoping to have something else on which to center my thoughts I casually picked up the newspaper and made my way to the hotel restaurant. Gary and I had agreed to meet for an early breakfast.

"So how did you sleep?" he began as I took a seat. I noticed that he was in the process of putting his cell phone away and the expression on his face did not seem to match his tone.

"I got a few hours in, enough to make me hungry anyway. What about you?"

"The same."

"That wasn't the hospital on the phone was it?" 

"No," he said while shaking his head, "just a call from the home front."

I was curious but something told me not to pursue it. Fortunately, the waitress came at that moment to take our order. As she left, I unfolded the newspaper and was taken aback by the headline. 

"Massacre in the Mountains" 

The shooting had become a national news story! That realization was bad enough, but there on the front page was full color picture of Adrienne and Jane standing together, Jane's arm casually draped over my wife's shoulder. In the picture their shorts, socks and shoes indicated that they were dressed for the outdoors. They were posed in front of Jane's SUV and both women were smiling directly at the photographer. 

It was a picture of two friends preparing to commune with nature. My eyes concentrated on Adrienne's face trying to read something into her smile. What was she telling me? Was she saying something she had been afraid to say before? Did the photograph convey anything she was hiding?

"Now they have faces for their stories," I thought as I began to read the accompanying text. For me, the reporter's words could be summed up in two statements: Rudman had recanted his confession and the Lycoming County District Attorney would pursue prosecution under the hate crime statute.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Just when I thought the situation could not have gotten worse, it had. With Rudman claiming his innocence a court case could live for a year or more, and with it, my family would continue to be the targets of interest in the newspapers.

As soon as I closed my eyes Gary must have sensed that something was wrong for he took the paper from me.

"Let me see that David. Oh… ," was all Gary said as his voice trailed off and he began to read. He would periodically look up from the page to gauge my reaction; in between, he told me that Jane's mother had taken the picture and that the piece contained mostly her interview. In case I was curious, the picture of those two was only a few days old. 

The reporters were moving faster than anticipated. While the writer did not say that Jane and Adrienne were lovers, they implied as much. It was mentioned repeatedly that they were good 'friends' (in quotes) and that Jane was indeed gay. 

Jane was drawn as a tragic figure, a woman who was a three-year breast cancer survivor who had been gunned down in the prime of her life. I noted with irony another omission, for I had never known she had been sick, even though she had apparently visited our home during the time she was undergoing treatment. 

"Gary I don't want Adrienne seeing this, in fact I don't even think we should discuss it if she brings it up."

I could not look him in the eye as I made that statement. Seeing Jane and Adrienne together was dredging up a wellspring of emotions. Try as I might, doubts about Adrienne's motives were again taking hold.

My brother has been an optimist for as long as I had known him. He was never one to look on the dark side. For him, the glass was always half-full, the trend always up. Put him in a room up to his neck in horse manure and he would inevitably search for the pony. From somewhere deep inside I counted on him not letting me drift into despondency. 

"David I know you love Adrienne. More importantly, I know she loves you. She has since we were kids. I would only ask that you start from THAT belief and then prove it by finding out why she came up here. She had to have a very good reason… and it's not to be found in this article."

"I know. but that doesn't make it any easier. The more I think on how she got here the more it pisses me off. She chose to go off on a secret camping trip with a girlfriend, and to top it off, that trip has cost one life, and almost cost hers." 

My voice cracking as I discussed my fears with Gary. "How should I view that? What if she had gone with a man instead of a gay girlfriend? Should I treat it the same? Would I be upset to find her sneaking away with a man for a few days alone in the woods? Even if I believe that nothing happened, it's still inappropriate for a married woman. Adrienne knows that; why else hide it from me?"

Gary leaned in, "You done yet?" 

That snapped me out of it. I was venting. It was therapeutic. I gave him a weak smile in return. "Yeah, I'm done."

"Good. I was wondering how long you were going to pretend that their being together didn't bother you. Drew's not here, you can say what you want. I'll understand. Just let go of it before we get to the hospital."

I looked over at him, my eyes growing misty. "You know if I didn't love her so much…" I took a deep breath before continuing. "We almost lost her. It wasn't her fault, but damn it, why was she here?"

"You tell me," said Gary.

"I DON'T know. When I try to rationalize her actions all I'm getting is deceit and betrayal, and that's not the woman I know, not the woman I've loved for most of my life."

I saw the empathy in Gary's eyes. My wife's actions had confounded everything he knew of her too.

"Here is what I do know. I know that the park is a place that Jane visited before. She chose this place. This would never be Adrienne's idea of a romantic retreat." With that, I received a somewhat quizzical look, so I continued.

"Allergies. She acquired them years ago after having Drew. Even with her medication, a nature hike would have seemed like an endurance run. Yet she came anyway. She had to have one hell of a motivation." 

I sighed before continuing, "And when she gets there, she and Jane are caught doing something. That act is the potential catalyst for the attack." I then repeated what the Lieutenant had told me about Rudman's statement.

Gary shifted in his seat. "Caught my ass! You believe that murderer?" 

"Not everything, but some things, yes, I believe were true. Even so, the pieces of information we have don't fit. If they wanted privacy, why not go to a motel somewhere in the boonies? When we get her things back from impound I'll have a better picture of what happened. Of course I would like to just ask her why, but, well you see the problem." I paused, as I turned away from Gary's gaze. 

We both knew that it would have been easier to ask Adrienne about her motives. Unfortunately, her word was suddenly of questionable merit. Now Gary knew that I was not completely confident that she had not been unfaithful. I think he also understood I was still hoping for some other explanation. 

What was so damn important that she was willing to deceive me? When I received the answer to that question, I would NOT be happy, that much I knew too. Anyway, we had traveled that path too long; a change in subject would be welcome. 

"By the way, Leo called me last night asking about Adrienne's condition, he also wanted to let me know he had fed and walked the dogs for us. Thanks for that. I forgot all about Arthur and Buster. Adrienne and the kids would never forgive me if I let anything happen to them."

Gary's eyes lit up when I mentioned his son. "Don't thank me, Leo took the initiative. That was his mother I was speaking with when you walked in. He stayed at your house last night. She was quite upset, wants me to talk with him, as if I had some influence. These days I can barely convince him to say good morning."

"That's unusual for Leo. Can't say I'm very surprised though; he has been at our table just about every night the last couple of weeks. Don't get me wrong, we love having him over but I get the feeling that he's trying to avoid going home. I was planning to ask you about that."

Gary moved forward in his seat a bit. His only son was a great kid and his father's heart. That his son would consciously avoid being around his parents said volumes about the atmosphere between them. I expected Gary to be more serious; instead, I saw a small smirk cross his face.

"Leo is having a little problem with his mother, on some uh, 'social issues."

"Social issues?" I thought for a second. "Girlfriend problems?" We both had to smile at that one. "Are you sure about that?"

"He's sixteen. You remember that age. Brenda?"

"Brenda," I repeated. The memories were clear but they had long ago detached from my emotions. "Hey, I was seventeen. Even so, this sounds a little serious for Leo. You're sure it's a girl?"

"Eileen Dougherty."

"Charlie's Eileen?"

"The same."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since New Years near as I can tell. Don't say it. Actually Charlie is quite relieved. He knows that if Leo does anything ungentlemanly towards Eileen that I'm likely to kill him before he does or Mary Elizabeth for that matter," he added with a smirk.

I nodded my understanding. Charlie Dougherty was a wrestling teammate of ours from high school and a close friend. Eileen was his oldest daughter, one of four he and Mary Elizabeth brought into the world. She was also a fairly large-busted girl, much like her mother. 

I recalled her first day in school. One of the boys thought he would have a go at feeling her up during recess, all part of an ill-conceived dare. He must not have known Eileen. For she not only inherited her mother's bust line but a healthy portion of her temper as well.

Eileen chased the boy half way through the school before we collided outside my office. After getting the dispute amongst the thirteen year olds sorted out, I had the seventh grade math teacher counsel Eileen. It was obvious the child was very self conscious about her size, and I knew our math teacher had previous experience in dealing with such issues.

Now some four years later, she was dating Leo. That must have riled Giselle. Charlie Dougherty never went to college; instead he opted for an apprenticeship as a plumber after high school. Now he was a plumbing contractor in town. The fact that he made his living with his hands was probably the rub for Giselle. 

"Are you sure Leo is rebelling because of his relationship with Eileen?" I asked.

"Trust me; I accidentally overheard part of their conversation. Leo started out complaining about his mother, said he hated her. I gather it's because Giselle is very much against his choice. You know Giselle; she's made her opinion known, to everyone. The girl is not good enough for her son. Of course, his response to her has been the silent treatment; and since they're feuding, I'm in the dog house."

"You're kidding. I know you had a talk with him about 'hating' his mother. That can't go on."

"Oh, we had a conversation all right. He understands my position, but he is as stubborn as she is. Hence, he's at your house for dinner the last two weeks. Of course, Giselle is no better. She goes to work early every day and stays late for overtime. When she gets in it's the silent treatment, only it's directed at me. On the weekends, she's off to her mother's or her sister's. When she does talk to me, she has this hostile tone to her voice. This whole situation is getting old but I'm at a loss as to how to bring it to a close."

"You're sure you haven't done something to set her off?" I tried not to smile as I said that. While Gary was my oldest and closest friend, I could not say the same for his wife. 

"Who me?" He deadpanned. "No, quite the opposite, we're supposed to be going to Hawaii next month. Normally Giselle would be shopping for the trip by now. I simply asked her about that a couple of nights ago and she just about bit my head off. How is that something to be upset about? No, it's not me. I'm just going to have to wait it out." Gary looked at his watch. "We better get moving."

We parted briefly as I went to wake up my son for the trip to see his mother.

The hospital room looked much brighter that second day. The blinds were open and the sunlight gave each object a buoyant glow. Adrienne was sleeping while I was sitting besides her attempting to read a magazine I had gotten. After an hour or so, she became restless.

She was obviously emerging from a nightmare, for suddenly her eyes opened wide and she rose to an upright position emitting a god-awful scream. I dropped my book and literally jumped on her bed to grab her. 

"Babe, I'm here," I said softy. 

She was shaking uncontrollably as I my arms encircled her. Her hands sought me out and I could feel her nails dig into my forearms. Not since the birth of our children had Adrienne held me with such strength. A nurse appeared at the door and I heard other footsteps approaching from the direction of the hallway.

It took but a few seconds for those big brown eyes to display recognition. She saw me and buried her face in my chest as her body became racked with sobs. By then the nurses were trying to pry her away so as not to compromise her dressings. I did not realize it but they were pulling me off her too.




Ardmore



They asked me to leave but I refused. I must have said it with such an undertone of authority that they gave up. Instead, I sought out the furthest corner as the staff sought to calm her. Minutes later, they filed out leaving us alone again. There was no need to bother her with questions at that point; I only wanted to stay until she fell asleep. Instinctively I sensed she too wanted me there.

As I retook my seat, she pressed the controls to adjust the bed in a more upright position. She looked over at me and uttered just one word, in the form of a question.

"Jane?"

For a number of reasons I was filled with conflicting emotions. All I could do was slowly shake my head no. That was enough for Adrienne. As she sank back into the pillows, huge tears streaked down her cheeks. In voice thick with emotion she added, "Why David? Why would someone want to kill us?" 

She seemed to be looking ahead, not focusing on anything in particular as she added, "I felt something push me but I didn't know I had been shot. Before I knew it Jane had moved in front of me, and shoved me down. She acted to shield me from the gunfire. She saved my life."

"Why? Why would they do that to us?" As she said that, I saw the veins show in her hand as she gripped the edge of the bed. Without thinking I reached for her fingers as they became affectionately entwined with my own. 

"It's all my fault." I heard her whisper as we held hands.

Then she fell silent. There was no reassurance I could give her. The violence had been without reason. I had no explanation for murder and mayhem. As we both withdrew into ourselves, only the hum of the monitors could be heard. 

It was a brief respite for minutes later there came a knock and Lt. Havlecek entered the room followed by another trooper. That I took as my cue to let them speak privately. I looked back at Adrienne upon reaching the door. As our eyes met, she had a look that bordered on despair. 

Up to that point I had monitored Adrienne's every movement, her speech, vocal inflections, even her facial expressions, all in an attempt to find some crack, some level of deception. No deception had been detected. Of all the signals she gave out, none had more impact than the feel of her hand in mine. Whatever her true relationship with Jane, there was love between us, of that I was certain. 

Had Jane been a dalliance, an experiment? It did not fit with the Adrienne I knew. However, I also knew that sexuality is complex thing, and it was not beyond the realm of possibility; besides, it was the only conclusion I could deduce at that time. Besides, why would she say it was all her fault? 

What would I do if they had been lovers? Jane's death removed her as a potential suitor, but it would not satisfy my need for fidelity. I could not, would not, compete with a dead woman. 

I shook off those thoughts as I emerged from the room. Gary, Drew and my father were waiting outside the door. I immediately recounted almost everything that had transpired. Their relief at knowing Adrienne was awake was evident in their very posture. Without saying it, we all knew that now we could go soon, it was only a matter of time. 

For me, I knew I would learn the truth of things when we were once again alone at home. I had no sooner resolved this than the trooper who had been with Havlecek came out of Adrienne's room. While he was not running, it was evident from his stride that he was in a hurry to leave the building. His actions were not lost on the four of us.

When Havlecek emerged, he came straight for me while giving a slight nod of acknowledgement to the others. I sensed an urgency in his voice as he began. 

"We're going to station a man to guard your wife's room for the time being."

"Is anything wrong?" I responded, suddenly feeling alarmed.

"Perhaps. When I showed your wife the lineup photos, she was easily able to identify Rudman. However, she recalled him being with another man on the trail when she and Ms. Glattfelder met him. We were not aware of a second individual. It might turn out to be nothing but I'm concerned since our guy never mentioned a traveling companion."

"Do you think this other man participated in the shooting?"

"We don't know. We know that both women were shot with .22 caliber ammo. The ballistics analysis is ongoing so we don't know if the shells were fired from different weapons. Again, we're going to provide protection just to be on the safe side."

"Did she say what he looked like?"

Havlechek paused, giving me a look that said I asked for too much.

"I can ask Adrienne, but I prefer not to," I said firmly.

"He's Caucasian, early thirties, slight build, short dark hair, mustache, and he's also quite tall. He supposedly towered over Ms. Glattfelder so we'd estimate he is around 6'5" or so. That should make it easier to find him."

"If he's smart he's long gone. He may have his own vehicle since we found the one registered to Rudman and there was no evidence of a partner. That means he would start out being less than 300 miles from the Canadian border. That's where I would go." Havlechek paused again and scanned our faces. "Look, I don't need any one of you playing hero. If he's in the area we'll get him. Furthermore, other than having been seen with Rudman at some point, we don't know if he was involved. Either way, stay out of it."

Havlecek turned to walk away. Something had been bothering me since breakfast. Another question could not hurt. "Lieutenant, what's this I hear about Rudman changing his mind on the confession?

"What? Where'd you hear that?"

"The newspapers; It's on the front page of USA Today."

Havlecek appeared to suppress a smile. "Well they got it wrong. Our guy has been very cooperative. Now that we know about his companion, I expect him to give him up without a problem. Don't believe everything you read in the papers."

"Thanks Lieutenant."

Chapter 4: Welcome the Calvary

Adrienne was awake for only another hour. It turned out to be enough time for a visit with Drew but no one else. Gary, saying he had to make a phone call, left shortly after Havlecek. That meant that my father and I were alone. We decided to leave the hall and take up waiting in the visitor's lounge. 

This was the first time we had been alone since his arrival so he might have felt compelled to speak. "Where is Alexandra? She should go in after Drew."

"She's not with us. She's coming up this evening." It was a response that got me a questioning look so I added, "She wasn't home when I got the call."

He frowned when I said that. I knew that face and what to expect next. "She wasn't home? Your mother said the police called after 2am."

"She's nineteen Papa. She was sleeping over at a girlfriend's. I tried to call her but she had her phone off."

"And her girlfriend does not have phone? Humph. She should be here." A critique of my parenting philosophy was in the offing. For my father, regardless of age, children always required guidance.

It was at that moment that a hand ran down and across the back of my head. The touch was familiar since there was only one person allowed to mock my baldness in such a fashion, my sister Julia.

I stood, turned, and moved into the warm embrace of my closest sibling. Standing back, I could see that little had changed with her. At 48, Julia could easily be mistaken for older version of Catherine Zeta-Jones. The hair was slightly graying but the eyes still sparkled with mischief.

Julia then moved to embrace Papa. "Is she awake?" she said as she released him.

"Yes, as of a few hours ago." I answered.

Looking beyond me my father asked. "You drove up by yourself?"

"No Papa, Chris (her husband) was against that idea so I hitched a ride with Gloria… and Howard. Howard dropped us off then headed back. I assume we'll ride home with you."

At the mere mention of Howard's name Papa face broke out into a frown. My sister must have overheard part of the prior conversation. As she had done when I was a child, she ran cover for me. Howard's name being mentioned was no accident. Papa was now focused on Gloria and Howard, a couple whose relationship continued to perplex him and my mother.

Gloria is five years older than me and next in line after Julia. She was also a widow with two grown daughters. Her husband lost his life running from his mistress's husband. The fool ran into an open elevator shaft to escape the man. Gloria's skepticism and avoidance of matrimony was probably a direct consequence of that affair. It also probably fed her obsession with her appearance and desire to be forever young.

According to my parents, Howard was her paramour and dupe. Their relationship started a few of years after the death of her husband and it was still strong a decade and a half later. However, they were not married and continued to maintain separate homes.

Papa often questioned Howard's manhood in accepting such an insufferably long courtship. What man would help raise another man's children and become a woman's willing servant with no hope of emancipation? The fact that he was devoted to my sister made the situation that much more intolerable. She took him completely for granted. Howard needed to be more assertive with her.

Family is my father's passion. Once Julia mentioned Howard's name, he shifted his attention from my daughter's absence and stayed on the topic of Gloria's relationship for the rest of the day. 

This may seem odd, but the fact that he was not talking about Adrienne's condition said that he was no longer afraid for her. It also said he would not mention other aspects that led her to her being here. My wife was like his adopted daughter; he was as protective of her as his other children.

Even after the rest of my family returned to the lounge, Julia would occasionally give me a knowing glance to say that she had put another one over on Papa for the umpteenth time.

We delayed departing the hospital until long after visiting hours were over and came close to being forcibly ejected. Neither the state police nor the administrative staffs were amused by, or sympathetic to, our efforts to stand watch over my wife. After delaying as long as we could we reluctantly returned to the hotel. To a person, we were famished.

The family congregated back in the hotel restaurant. Our mood was much lighter, partially as result of the stories my mother and sisters recounted of their interrogation of the medical staff. Mom's discussion with Adrienne's doctor had us all laughing. It was obvious that my 70-year old mother thoroughly intimidated my wife's physician. If Mom was not intimidating, my sisters certainly were. The doctor attempted to be overly helpful but must have felt besieged from all sides. I almost felt sorry for him.

About midway through the meal, my daughter arrived with my sister Giselle who was making her usual entrance. I was taken by how much of a young woman Allie had become. Sure she had my eyes, but thankfully the rest of her was the image and manner of her mother.

The few restaurant staff in attendance all paused as Giselle passed. She was a remarkable beauty, and she knew it. Knowing her, she was probably mentally applauding her entrance. In any stressful circumstance, the last person I would want to see would be Giselle. Her contrived persona and blunt manner never failed to annoy me. 

Her hair was now platinum blonde and it hung well over her shoulders. Since Giselle was a part-time model I knew that shade would probably not outlast the summer. The dress she wore seemed more formal than required for a hospital visit and flowed as she hit the room like it were the runway. That was undoubtedly for the benefit of any stray photographers. 

Whatever her attire, Giselle donned Allie's same contained expression of pain and bewilderment. On my daughter, I knew that pain was real; on her aunt, it was too well positioned on her face. I was not used to displays of emotion coming from her. 

Allie rushed into my arms holding me tightly. There was no mistaking her fears. "How is Mommy?" she asked through tear stained eyes. "Still resting," I replied, then added, "Don't worry, she's past the worst of it. She's going to be OK."

She stayed with me while her aunt made their way around the table greeting everyone. Part of me was happy that Gloria was there. She and Giselle were old cronies, having met through Adrienne and I. Perhaps Gloria might stifle her bluntness.

I seated Allie on the other side of me then signaled the waitress and we placed orders. Giselle was next to Gary. She was going on as to how she had not had time to eat before they left. With eleven of us at the table, it was no small feat that Giselle's comments interrupted the flow of conversation. I wanted to both appease her and quiet her in the process. As I turned back to my family, she opened up on her husband, seeming to whisper while ignoring the rest of us.

"Gary, have you seen the papers? I took off work today because I was too embarrassed to go in. This afternoon reporters called the house asking about Adrienne and that woman. They were asking all kinds of questions. I don't even know what to tell them. Were they or weren't they involved?" 

I looked at my children, both of whom were showing signs of uneasiness. Gary came to our aid. He leaned in close and reached over to touch Giselle's arm in an effort to quiet her. When that failed he said, "Giselle, this is not the time." To which she promptly ignored him.

"Well what were Adrienne and that woman up to?" she continued to question.

"GISELLE!" shouted Gary.

Temporarily caught off-guard at his outburst, she froze. Gary motioned her outside. Allie had been visibly shaken while Drew sat staring stone faced at the table. My mother had her hand on Gina's shoulder in a subtle move to restrain her. While my other sisters were throwing daggers with their eyes. To my right Julia had moved her chair back preparing for an open confrontation. I heard my father's calming voice say "Julia" as I turned my attention back on my children.

"Your mom's condition is improving but never forget that she was shot twice. I don't need to tell you that we need to do everything to help her get better. That means we don't upset her by asking the same stupid questions your aunt just posed. Don't let anything you read in the papers, see on television, or hear from the uninformed affect what you know about your mom. Now let's eat."

I felt my sister's hand touch my shoulder from behind. We shared a brief look before I gazed over towards the entrance. Gary and Giselle could be seen arguing through the window. How did I let this happen? It took Giselle less than a minute to have said something stupid and insensitive. I should have anticipated her remarks. Having dinner together was a mistake.

"I know she's Gary's wife, but why did she have to come?" Chimed in Gloria, her eyes blazing. "She's trouble, and if she opens her mouth one more time…" That statement shocked me. I had expected Gloria, of all of us, to take up for Giselle.

"Gloria enough!" said my father. "People handle stress differently; this may be her way of coping. Regardless, this is not the time or the place for arguments within the family. We are not here for that."

"Yes Papa" answered my sister rather meekly.

With Giselle occupied, the talk turned to more practical matters. We had to find the girls a room, hopefully at a hotel not too far away. While initially concerned about us being separated, I now concluded that it was best if Gary and Giselle boarded away from me. I'd convey that option to him when he returned. Given his current feelings, he would probably envy me being away from her.

Our wives could not have been more different. Giselle Trudeau had been a high school classmate of ours, though we had not been friends. She had run with a crowd of 'beautiful people', girls who made no pretense that their looks guaranteed them special privilege. While many of those girls matured, she appeared to maintain her same attitude through to adulthood. 

Relatively tall at five foot ten, her figure had changed very little since graduating, the result of a rigorous exercise regimen and favorable genes. The only real change might have been the addition of the pearls, which adorned every outfit. 

I doubt she remembered me from our high school days, or even if she remembered her then future husband. She was aloof from all the boys in our class. It was thought at the time that her tastes ran to college guys. I saw her some times while out on dates. The men accompanying her were always older and confirmed the speculation. 

In reality, I do not think Gary or I ever discussed Giselle more than a few sentences during our entire four years of high school. She avoided us and we avoided her. It was our form of MAD, mutually assured dislike. 

Gary was too busy tying to date every other girl in the senior class to pay much attention to Giselle. Me, I was initially concerned with finding Ms. Right. Any woman who even remotely appeared friendly with Giselle was ineligible in my book.

When one thought of Giselle, the first word to come to mind was haughty. Even after eighteen years of marriage I still had difficulty understanding what Gary saw in her. Sure she was exceptionally attractive, but pretty is as pretty does. Even her looks could not overcome that condescending manner.

But why was she with him? The best I could surmise was that she was in love with the image he projected. She appreciated being escorted by a man whose sincere and gregarious nature she envied but could not emulate. In essence, she traded upon his reputation. 

With that last thought, I caught myself. Perhaps I was being too harsh in my appraisal. I was taking out my anger on her. She was available and my wife's attacker was not. Giselle might be a totally different person when alone with Gary. 

Truth is, we had socialized at times when I found her engaging and somewhat likable. My sister Gloria and she had similar tastes and often shopped together. Besides, joining our clan would have been challenging for anyone. Gary, Adrienne and I were as close as three people could be. We had a familiarity born from a childhood friendship and many shared experiences. Anyone would have had difficulty becoming a part of our family. 

By her presence there that evening I understood I probably owed her more consideration than I was granting. Papa was right; we do each handle stress differently. It was unfair of me to expect her to fit some mold of accepted patterns of anxiety or grief. Besides, Adrienne would have wanted me to forgive Giselle's insensitivity. She often defended her over my complaints. 

She and Gary never returned to the table. It saddened me that she would not be the only one to question Adrienne's actions. There would be many more and the sooner I got accustomed to that the better it would be for all of us.

When the restaurant closed, only Julia and I remained, everyone else having retreated to their rooms. Neither of us was in need to leave the other so we adjourned to more comfortable seats in the hotel's lobby. By now, it was approaching 10:30pm. 

"It's not true you know," intoned Julia.

"What's not true?"

"That Adrienne and Jane were lovers. I don't believe that for a second. Now Gloria, that's someone who fits the bill," she mused.

I ignored her attempt at humor and started fiddling with my coffee cup. "I wish I could be as sure of that as you."

"You can't seriously believe that Adrienne is some latebloomer who chose this manner to come out of the closet?"

"Oh, she could not have foreseen the violence, but she certainly was here for some other purpose. Adrienne is not someone who would casually ditch a conference. She loves her job, always has. Besides, is it so hard to imagine that she might be in love with Jane?"




Ardmore



My sister probed my eyes for a moment. "Ah, I see it. What really concerns you is that she was here with another woman. That scares you. "

"Shouldn't it? I can't compete with another woman Julia. If she prefers women, we're done. Even if Jane were some sort of…of experiment, our marriage would be over. "

Julia moved to sit next to me. "Adrienne would not experiment like that. She is someone who commits to things, to ideas, to people. If she were in love with Jane, she would have told you, there would be no subterfuge, no deception. No, look for another answer because that one is not possible."

"But they talked so frequently," I countered, "I'm not naïve about lesbians. I know it's not so much about sex as it is about relationship, the preludes leading to a physical encounter. You forget I've been in the presence of women having sex. I've been there. " 

"The club?" whispered my sister. 

"Yes." 

Julia's phone buzzed and she quickly took it from her purse and flipped it open. "My ride is waiting. I better get going," she said. "I'll see you in the morning. Regardless of your fears, just remember this is Adrienne we are talking about. She's not those other women."

With that, Julia kissed my cheek and was off. "Who was that that 'texted' her?" I wondered. It could not have been Howard. I quickly shook off that line of thought. I was becoming too suspicious. I questioned everything. My antenna had also gone up every time I spoke with Lt. Havlechek. Maybe it was nothing, but he seemed a bit too forthcoming with information, a little too accommodating.

Julia's call made me think of my own phone. I pulled it from my pocket remembering that it was off while we were in the hospital. Once on, I reviewed my messages. Most were from Allie during the afternoon. 

There were also voicemails from several of my staff at school, some reporters, and a friend I had not spoken with in a couple of years. I deleted all but the last. Hers I replayed for I found comfort in her voice. 

In her message she had well wishes for Adrienne and I, yet I detected an undertone of worry. I too had had uneasiness at the beginning of this nightmare thinking it could have been related to an incident in my past? My friend was exercising her prerogative to be paranoid. I now knew that it had no connection and made a note to call her in the morning to dispel her concerns. 

The central problem remained Adrienne, her condition, and why she had risked our relationship to come to this place.