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Cryin' in the Rain

By: StangStar06



 Hey Folks. It's cold out there. We have a new year and all kinds of things to think about. For this story I thought about the way that JPB tends to leave a lot of his stories open at the end. I think that in some cases this is a great tool because the reader can imagine his own ending. In others it can be extremely frustrating because our minds always cry out to know what happened next. So I'm going to leave this one up to you. I have several possible endings in mind and I'll read all of the messages I get after this one and write something along the lines of whatever most of you want to see (kind of). Thanks as usual to Barney-R for his editing wizardry. Thanks also to all of you who read them. SS06

* * * * * *

A black cat moans, when he's burning with the fever. 

A stray dog howls, when he's lonely in the night. 

A woman goes crazy, with the thought of retribution. 

But, a man starts weeping, when he's sick and tired of life. 

God Damn that man can sing. This isn't even my favorite song from the album, but I keep playing it over and over and over again, because he knows what I'm feeling. 

What I'm feeling is the deep down in your soul misery. I'm talking about the blues. 

Okay you're laughing, now huh? You're shaking your head and telling yourself that I don't know anything about the blues. I don't know anything about the music or the feelings. 

One of the things about the twenty-first century is that all of the old paradigms and stereotypes don't mean a thing. Another thing is that I don't understand any of what's going on. What the fuck is going on with all of these little white girls that are all about that bass, or who rap and sound like they grew up in the ghetto, but they come from places like Australia? 

Okay, Music seriously has become an international language. It is no longer bound to any race creed or gender. So if this is true, why the fuck can't I feel the blues? 

My life means nothing to me anymore. There are times when I feel not only like I just can't go on, but like I'm walking slowly towards a grave that I just dug for myself with a shovel made of my own heart and spine. 

Today is one of those days. It's one of those days that I have to do something that I know will kill me. And the pain is already so deep inside of me that life simply has no meaning for me. That, boys and girls, is the blues. 

Okay, I have a great career. I make a reasonable amount of money. I lived in a beautiful house with a woman I loved and have a lot of friends. I say loved because I don't think she's mine anymore. That's the blues. 

The customized Mustang that I'm driving to my date with destiny has an engine bay that looks like it was designed by NASA not NASCAR. 

My huge ball bearing supercharger emits the tiniest little whine at eighty five miles per hour. It's not even loaded at this pedestrian speed. The engine makes over eight hundred horsepower, so the whine is more like my pony is asking to be set free than it is being taxed by driving this slowly. 

It's actually really difficult for me to drive this slowly, but why the fuck would I want to get there any faster? Like I said before, when you're driving to your own execution, why would you want to get there quickly? That is... The blues. 

"I keep on dreaming, dreams of tomorrow. 

Feel I'm wasting my time, lighting candles in the wind. 

Always taking my chances, on the promise of the future. 

But, a heart full of sorrow, paints a lonely tapestry." 

I'm sure that none of you really think that Whitesnake is a blues band. I can hear you now saying, "SHIT, Dylan; Whitesnake is one of those 80's/90's hair metal bands. That's not the blues." 

Or "For heaven's sake Dylan, you've got your entire life ahead of you. Get over it. Move on!" 

But how exactly do I move on, when my lungs have been ripped out of my chest while attached to my still beating heart and stuck on a plate right in front of me? 

"The sun is shining, but it's raining in my heart." 

I guess if you knew all of the facts in the story it would help you to understand my pain. I mean it doesn't make sense. If this was a fuckin' movie, I'd be about to ride off into the sunset on my faithful stallion, with the girl clasped firmly in one muscular arm. Her attention would be riveted on me, while I casually blew on the end of my smoking hot shooting iron to cool it off after sending a hot lump of lead squarely up the villain's ass. 

But this is Michigan, not the old west. And the good guys don't always get the girl. Sometimes life just makes no fucking sense. Sometimes even when you love her far more than the other guy can possibly ever think of. Even when you do all the right things, say all the right things, make all the right moves... You still don't ride off into the sunset with the girl. 

And it's ten... Make that twenty times worse, when you know that he's only going to fuck her over, and there's nothing you can do about it. How do I know so much about him and what he wants to do? 

That's easy, you see, I grew up with him. We moved next door to each other. We were born within minutes of each other in hospitals that were more than a thousand miles apart. However, our families moved onto the same block within minutes of each other, into houses that were right next door to each other. 

As if fate had decreed it, the two of us, each three years old, wandered away from the chaos of moving into new homes. And just as fate intended walked straight to each other. Two wonderful, young mothers simultaneously looked around and each discovered that they had not one, but two sons. 

That's how close we were. If it is at all possible for twins to be born of different fathers and different mothers, then that's what Jimmy and I were. You never saw one of us without the other. There was no separating us, it just seemed odd. 

After a while, our mothers even coordinated things like Christmas presents to make sure that there were no unfortunate incidents. Unfortunate incidents either resulted in money wasted or feelings hurt. Like the Christmas, when Jimmy got Laser tag and I got a Nintendo game system. 

What ended up happening was Jimmy's mom, who's still to this day like my second mom ended up with her feelings hurt for a while. The woman went through hell getting him that laser tag set. It was one of the most popular gifts for boys that Christmas, and she was proud that she had fought her way through the crowds and lines in the store and emerged victorious. 

The problem was that my Nintendo was something that both of us could play together. And we did, for literally hours at a time, while the expensive Laser gun and sensor sat there on a shelf. 

Jimmy even started asking his mother for Nintendo games. "But Jimmy," she said. "You don't have a Nintendo game system." 

"Yeah we do," he said in that totally sure voice-tone that only an eight-year-old can manage. "WE got it for Christmas." 

After coming next door to watch us for a while, she realized her mistake and even told my mother about it. I don't think either of us noticed that the un-opened laser tag gun and sensor went back to the store the day after Christmas. But we both noticed when it was replaced by a host of two-player Nintendo cartridges. 

And that was the way it worked, growing up. We did everything together. And the people around us adapted. I was a great runner, but Jimmy wasn't. But we were both on the track team. 

Jimmy was the best starting offensive lineman on our high school football team. To keep him interested in football, they made me a tight end. Most of the time, Jimmy was double or even triple teamed by defensive players on the other team trying to get to our quarter back. Those mismatches meant that we really could have gone a player short, so my utter ineptitude, didn't matter. 

Why, you wonder, didn't they put another tight end in? It was simple. They needed Jimmy. They wanted Jimmy. And if I got bored from sitting on the bench and quit, so did Jimmy. 

It was the same thing in track. Okay, I was fast. Jimmy had all of the speed of an Ox among race horses. But he stayed on the team. Over time, our coach adapted. He made lemonade. 

Jimmy, like most oxen, was slow. However, he was as strong as... an ox. Jimmy became a great shot putter and started to pull his weight and then to excel. As a tight end, I also blossomed. Let's face it; I was fast, but I didn't have the hands to be a wide receiver. I also didn't have the toughness or the bulk to be a running back. 

But in our third or fourth game of the first season, the big defensive guys from the other team got past Jimmy and our line. Our quarterback was about to get his ass handed to him, so he just threw the ball up. I guess he knew that he was about to get crushed if he didn't get rid of it, and our eyes met. 

In practice, they never threw me the ball. I was one of those Brandon Pettigrew type of tight ends that are only good for blocking. It was like they bought me a special type of gloves with the butter already spread on them. I never, and I mean never, in hundreds of snaps in practice, ever held onto a single pass. 

And I know what Greg's motivation was. Our quarterback decided in that moment of fear to make me the scapegoat for his fear and his fuck up. Let's face it. It was the fourth quarter with time running down. Our coach had us taking our time running out the clock. We were down by a point. All we had to do was get into field goal range and our dead eye field goal kicker, would win the game for us. 

Greg had a habit of hanging on to the ball too fucking long. Our coach threatened to bench him for it. So Greg, in that high pressure situation, instead of getting sacked, or taking a penalty for intentional grounding, decided to throw a short yardage pass to Butter Hands. That was my nickname. It caught on, so naturally they shortened it to just Butter. It pissed me off when they put it on my letter jacket. 

Anyway, his reasoning was that when I dropped the ball, it would become my fault not his if we didn't get into field goal range. 

The rest of the guys on the team all groaned when he threw the ball. A couple of them ran towards me just hoping that I could do the best thing they expected of me. That would be to hold onto the ball long enough for it to be considered a fumble when I dropped it. In that case, they could fall on it, and we'd keep possession. It was third down so at least we'd be able to punt the ball into safe territory. 

However, I fucked all of that up. For some reason, even I can't explain it, I caught the ball. It was as if someone had replaced the "butter" with superglue. I was shocked. It was like electricity went through me as the crowd, including our parents, all cheered for me. 

Then time started up again, and I realized that I was in danger. I heard one of the huge linemen on the other team, grunt, "Motherfucker," as if he was about to decapitate me for daring to catch the ball. 

At the same time, I heard my coach yelling words of encouragement from the sidelines. "Run Dumb Ass," he yelled. And that was the one thing I knew how to do. I took off for the goal line and with a few of the guys who were hoping I would fumble providing key blocks I made it clear, and no one on that field had my speed. 

My first touchdown changed things. It even changed my nickname. I became "the bomb." They called me that because I was like the atomic bomb. I was the weapon you didn't want to use. I was a weapon of last resort. In practice, every time they threw me the ball, I would drop it. If they tried to use me for short yardage in game situations, I would drop it. But if the game was on the line, and they had no other choice; I was golden. I scored nine or ten dramatic touchdowns out of fear and desperation that season, including two in one game at the division championships. 

Smart teachers and coaches found ways to use both Jimmy and I. James Jessie, which was Jimmy's real name and Dylan Marshall, was a pair. That was just the way it worked. 

Literally, no one was surprised when we turned eighteen and went off to college together. No one was surprised when we ended rooming together even though the roommate draw was supposed to be by random chance. 

Over the years, we had spent so much time together that it was ridiculous. However, college was the first time we had actually lived together. At college, we became fully formed adults, and it also exposed all of the amazing differences in our personalities. 

Jimmy was far more socially adept than I was. But I was far better in school. It wasn't just that I was better in some classes; it was as if Jimmy had never learned to study at all. I think a lot of our differences boiled down to our togetherness. 

Jimmy had never seen the value of actually attending school. Since we'd always taken the same classes at the same time. We had always done our homework and assignments together. Most of the time it seemed like I did the work and Jimmy copied it. There were years when I did two science projects, one for myself and then one for him. He actually got better grades on those projects because he was more comfortable speaking in front of groups of people. 

I would always get better grades on the actual exams, and that would balance out the project grades. We would end up getting similar grades. Our SAT scores really brought the academic differences home. However, even there, most of our teachers were convinced that it was a fluke due to the fact that Jimmy didn't do well on standardized tests, and that he was nervous about the test after being told how important the test was. 

But in the end, since we had already both been accepted at Michigan, our SAT scores didn't really matter. However, college did expose several weaknesses. I wanted to major in engineering. Jimmy did too, but he knew that he was never going to pull off the math and science requirements. So we had to sit down and figure out what we wanted to do in life. 

I wanted to have our own engineering business. I wanted to design and modify cars. Jimmy liked cars too so he thought it was a good idea, but since we were both going to play football, he thought that even planning for it would be a waste of time. 

I went to my classes religiously. Jimmy laughed and got extra sleep. When the first semester was over, I had earned a bunch of credits towards my degree. Jimmy had dropped several classes, but knew everyone on campus. 

Jimmy also had something that I had never thought of. Jimmy had a girlfriend. During high school both of us had dated. But we had gone out with a host of girls, not limited ourselves to one. Having a girlfriend is a lot of fucking work. You have to spend time with them. 

Jimmy's girlfriend Sarah was one in a million. It takes a special type of woman, not only to accept the fact that the two of us were joined at the hip, but to fit in and be that woman in the middle. 

Another huge gulf between us became apparent that year too. Jimmy was no longer a virgin since he, and Sarah were having all kinds of sex. After one of their arguments that happened because Sarah had apparently discovered that Jimmy was cheating on her, an amazing thing happened.

WE, yes I said we, sat down to discuss what had happened between them. While Jimmy pleaded with Sarah for a second chance, she demanded to know why he had done it. 

He explained that Sarah, whether she knew it or not, had been his first. He'd simply been curious to see what it would be like to have sex with someone else. If she gave him another chance, it would never happen again. It had just been an overwhelming curiosity. He turned to me and asked me if I understood what he'd gone through.

I was embarrassed and had to admit to both of them that I had no experience on which to base an opinion. 

"You mean you've only had sex with one girl, right," said Sarah triumphantly.

"No," I said timidly. "I've never had sex period."

Sarah agreed to give him another chance but with the stipulation that someday she might need to vent her own curiosity. Jimmy said, "No." 

He told her that he loved her, but there was no way that he would walk around on eggshells for the rest of his life waiting for her to cheat on him. He said that if he agreed to it, years later, down the line when they were married and had kids, she might just decide to take him up on it. That, he said would be far more painful and more devastating than what he had just done. 

His mistake and that was what it was, a mistake, had been born of youthful curiosity during the beginning of their lives together. She could wait until they had been together for years or even married with children. And then it would be something that he might never be able to get over. 

"But I'm not interested in anyone except you," she said. "I might not ever do it." 

"But you might," he said. 

"I can't just let you do this to me without some kind of penalty," she said. "What would stop you from doing it again?" 

"You're right, Honey," he said. "I need some kind of punishment. But the idea of some other guy even touching you makes me want to throw up." She looked into his eyes and saw the pain written there and a lot of regret. 

I looked at him and saw the same con game he had run on our parents, our friends, and our teachers over the years. However, even I was unprepared for what came out of his mouth next. 

"It's painful for me even to say this," he said with what looked like real tears in his eyes. "Sarah, I want you to have sex with Dylan."

"Huh?" I exclaimed. I was totally in shock. 

"Okay," said Sarah. Truthfully, I later learned that she had painted herself into a corner. The poor girl really loved Jimmy and had only wanted him to agree not to cheat on her again. However, she had let her mouth draw a line in the sand that she couldn't back away from without appearing to be a doormat. 

"Wait a minute," I said. 

"What," asked both of them at the same time? 

"Isn't your first time supposed to be... You know... special. And with someone you love?" I asked. 

"You see," said Jimmy. "That's exactly why I can't let you read those God Damned books! No more reading for you Dylan. Go get your library card and bring it to me. As a matter of fact, the library is off-limits to you." Sarah just sat there with a smile on her face, looking at me. She had a real glow on her face.

"Dylan, when you meet this perfect girl and fall in love with her, do you want to be embarrassed and ruin your first time together by not knowing what the hell to do?" he asked.

"Do you want her to laugh at you and then go back and tell all of her friends how inept you were? How fucking romantic will that be?" he asked. "You know what will happen then, right?" he asked. I was horrified and had no idea. 

"You'll realize that I was right. So you'll start trying to gain experience with girls you don't like so the next time you run into a girl that you do like, you'll know what to do. You'll end up screwing ugly girls, or smelly girls, or old women, or fat girls. They'll ruin the experience for you. Shit, you may end up turning gay," he said. Jimmy was on a roll. 

"The perfect person for you to start with, has to pretty," he said. "Is Sarah pretty?" he asked. 

I didn't say anything. "Dylan, open your God Damned mouth, or I'll embarrass you," he said. 

"Yes," I said. "She is." Sarah blushed. Jimmy was a major con man.

"You're too God damned timid," he said. "Sarah, Honey, after our first date, the first time Dylan saw you. I asked him what he thought about you. I asked him then if he thought you were pretty. He said you were beyond pretty. He thought you were beautiful, and I was lucky to have you." 

"Jimmy," I said sharply! I was pissed that he'd told her that. I just got up and walked out of our dorm. "You guys work out your problems without me." 


Cryin' in the Rain: Conclusion



 Hey Folks, what a week! The first and most important thing I have to do is to thank everyone who read the story. I have to thank those of you who wrote to me afterwards even more. The number of e-mails I had gotten before lunchtime last Thursday was staggering. I continued getting them until... Crap I got another one this morning just before I posted the ending. Every one of you who told me what they thought should happen had great ideas. I wish I could have written five different endings to cater to the five major trends that you all wanted to see. But I wanted this out in a week so that wasn't possible. Barney-R and I had to work long and hard to make this happen and I think that what we came up with is a very good although not perfect ending. 

There was one person among all of the hundreds of e-mails that really made me think. Although I didn't write the ending she wanted to see yet, I'm working on it, Theresa. Anyway... I'm sure that some of you will like this and others will hate it, but that's how it goes. Please feel free to write to me with either complaints, compliments or outright scorn. If enough of you hate this, maybe I, or someone better can take another stab at it. 

Thanks again to the legendary Barney-R for making this legible. SS06

* * * * * *

Gretchen 

"Don't try to talk," I said. "I've already called for an ambulance." 

The pain was written all over his face. That same face was swelling up as I watched. Both of his eyes were going to be black. His nose was at an odd angle. Bubbles were forming in the blood on his face every time he breathed. His mouth looked weird. It wasn't the fact that his lips had swollen to nearly twice their normal size. It was as if his entire mouth had shifted to the side.

I heard the sirens getting closer. He grabbed my arm and mumbled to me. 

"Mggd... dhn mntn Dlan!" He was adamant. It took me a while to figure out that I was to tell the EMS guys or the police that he'd been mugged, and I was not supposed to talk about Dylan. 

For once, I had no problem doing something that Jimmy wanted me to do. Two hours later, I was still filling out paperwork. Jimmy, naturally, had no health insurance. He had two black eyes, a fractured left orbit, a fractured cheek bone, a dislocated mandible, and a fat lip. He cried like a baby when they popped his Jawbone back into place. 

They wanted to keep him for a few days to rule out a concussion. I was all for it. Paying for Jimmy's medical treatment was going to take a big chunk out of my savings.

Even though his jaw was only dislocated, not broken, he was in a lot of pain. With his two black eyes and his swollen lips, he looked like some sort of mutated raccoon.

The thing that confused me the most though was the way he looked at me. The glances he gave me, and his entire demeanor towards me were openly contemptuous. 

Even though he gave me the impression that he hated me, he expected me to be in the hospital every day while he was there. 

It finally became clear once he could talk again. He filed a police report that claimed that he was attacked by two guys. He told them that it had happened so fast that he didn't see them. 

The police told him that if any details occurred to him to give them a call. They had lots of random mugging cases and had neither the time nor the resources to spend very much time on another one. 

Once he was released from the hospital, it didn't get any better. He moved right into our... or my house. He was no help with any of my problems. I had to get my boss to give me more hours at work to cover my expenses. His medical bills had already put a drain on the money I had. I had no idea if Dylan would ever come back to talk to me again about of problems. I couldn't believe my marriage was over. 

They say that hindsight is twenty/twenty. In my case, it was even sharper than that. Mine was a case of greed. I reached out to try to grab more. I had a great man. He was a loving husband and would have someday been a great father. However, I've always had a thing for bad boys, and I got one. Now I needed to get rid of him, so I could get my husband back. 

I guess that all the crap that Jimmy had fed me about the two of them sharing everything, including some of their women was old news. Apparently, I meant more to Dylan than Jimmy thought. Jimmy had all kinds of clever sayings about things, like Bros before hoes. But Dylan had beaten the fuck out of Jimmy over me. 

I should have been flattered by it. But to tell the truth, it was frightening. I had never seen Dylan so much as raise his voice before that. I know that he misunderstood my motives when I pulled him off of Jimmy. I think that Dylan thought that I was trying to protect Jimmy. I wasn't though. I was trying to keep Dylan from going to jail for killing Jimmy. The next time we spoke, I had to clarify that if nothing else. I was sure that Dylan thought of that as just another case of me betraying him for Jimmy. The longer this went on, the deeper the hole I dug for myself. 

The worst part of it was that I seemed to be alone. My family was so against what I had done that they gave me the cold shoulder. They didn't disown me or anything, but every conversation seemed to be centered on my mental health. 

Jimmy was worse. The longer we were together, the more hostile he became. Finally, I asked him if we could talk. I told him that his attitude towards me bothered me. I told him that if he disliked me that much, he could simply leave and live elsewhere. 

I'd been working my ass off trying to save money, so I could move out if I couldn't keep the house. More than anything else, I wanted my husband to come back. Jimmy had been completely wrong. I felt really stupid. And the worst part about it was that Dylan had become exactly what I wanted from him. He became more decisive. He became more physical. And he HAD, in fact, chosen me over Jimmy, just as I had demanded he do when we first got together. 

It had been me who had been weak. I was the one who wasn't strong enough to stand up to Jimmy. And with every day that passed, I regretted it more. 

While at work, I ran into a friend, Sylvia, who gave me even worse information. She had been at a bar on a date a few weeks prior and had seen Dylan and Jimmy. She overheard part of their conversation. She actually heard Jimmy insulting me. He made jokes about my looks and my body. Apparently, Jimmy had never felt anything for me. She also heard Dylan defending me. He had disagreed with everything Jimmy said, and he finally got tired of it and left. I only wished she'd called me as soon as she'd heard all of that. My life would be so much different. I would have simply hung up the phone on Jimmy when he called. 

Instead, I did the stupidest thing possible and let him into my house and my bed. I seemed to go from one mistake to the next where Jimmy and Dylan were concerned. 

After falling for Jimmy's bullshit that Dylan wouldn't be upset if Jimmy and I slept together, Dylan had left me. The fact that he had punched Jimmy in the mouth when he mentioned Sarah should have taught me something. The days that Dylan and I were apart were hell. I should have gone to him to beg his forgiveness. But I continued to let Jimmy tell me how he knew everything about Dylan and that everything would be fine.

I then let Jimmy con me into getting Dylan back to the house, so we could talk. When he got there and found out that Jimmy was still there, the pain and the hurt he was feeling magnified. He felt as if I had simply betrayed him all over again. He had beaten Jimmy to a pulp and apparently left the state. Now I was stuck with Jimmy who was treating me as if he hated me, but refused to leave my house.

"I can't leave," he said. "When Dylan comes back, this is where he'll be." 

"So we're only together, because of Dylan?" I asked, shaking my head. 

"What else is there between us?" he asked. "I have to admit that I fucked up. Dylan has real feelings for you. I guess there's no accounting for taste, even among brothers. However, the two of us need each other." 

"Why the hell do we need each other?" I asked. 

"I already told you," he said. "Dylan will come back to you one way or another. The look on his face when he walked in and saw you was disgusting. He really thinks of you as something special. I don't think he's over you yet. I think, and this is hard for me to understand, but I think Dylan loves you. I'm pretty sure that he'll come back. And then you told me that he likes your family. He likes your dad and your mom and your hot little sister, right? He won't break off ties to them, unless they make it clear to him that they don't want to hear from him. Shit, Dylan still sends birthday cards to my mom and dad and sees them whenever he goes back home. I don't even do that." 

"So that's why you need me," I said. "Why do I need you?" 

"Because you need a man around you, and you can't resist me," he said. "You had your perfect little suburban life, and you shit canned it to jump into bed with me the first chance you got. You weren't even hard to get. Why the fuck did you marry my brother anyway? I had your panties off in less than twenty minutes. It takes more time than that to get to bed with a bar skank. But the real reason you need me is because Dylan is eventually going to come back here. You and I both hope that he's going to return here to work things out with you, but what if he meets someone else and comes back just for the divorce. I mean he was so pissed off last time that he just erupted and forgot all about the divorce papers, so you, and he are technically still married. You owe me one for that. I took a beating so you could stay married. But we need to work together if this is going to work out. I know him better than anyone on this planet. So if you want my brother back, you need me.

* * * * * *

Dylan

In the four months that I've been in Florida, I've tried hard to put the past behind me. I love the weather here. The ability to drive my Mustang all year round is another thing I love about it. I have a house that's quite close to the beach with a lot of very friendly neighbors. 

My new job at the plant here was actually kind of a promotion. Back in Michigan, I was one of a team of engineers. All of us were pretty good and no one really stood out. Since all of our skills were roughly equal, they did things, mostly on the basis of seniority. That meant that at twenty-seven years old and only five years out of college, I didn't have much seniority, so I got a lot of the shitty, weekend shifts and got bumped to nights a lot. 

But since my old boss, who was head of engineering in the old plant, became plant manager here, he's tried to make the plant more efficient, like the plants back in Michigan. He's been converting everything to lean engineering and lean manufacturing styles. Since I know what he wants and have experience with it, I've begun climbing the ladder here at a meteoric rate. Combine that with the fact that I have no wife and no family here to provide distractions, so I can easily work weekend and holiday shifts. All I do now is work, eat, sleep, and run. Any time that I'm not doing those things finds me adding modifications to my Mustang. 

I became assistant manager of engineering in only three months. The current manager of engineering is retiring next year, and I'm the obvious choice to replace him. Who knows how far I can rise here? 

On a personal note, there is no personal note. Except for my working relationships, I rarely speak to people. I have severe trust issues. Seriously, how the hell am I supposed to trust anyone when the woman I loved and thought loved me, betrayed me with the worst possible person? Jimmy and I were closer than brothers, and he fucked Gretchen for no other reason than because he could. 

Neither of the two people I felt closer to than anyone else on earth gave even a passing thought to how badly what they did could hurt me. And to make things worse, they never even bothered to cover it up or try to hide it. 

Imagine walking into your own home with nothing in mind except going to bed with your wife, then walking in and finding your very best friend, lying there, still half naked, watching your TV, on the white leather couch that your wife just had to have, that she doesn't even let you sit on. She always whined about getting stains on that fucking couch that I paid for. Well, Jimmy was a huge fucking stain. So fuck her and that couch. 

I stayed away from both of them for the next two weeks while I got things arranged for my move here. She had the nerve to call me and tell me that I could give her the papers to start our divorce, if I talked to her for ten minutes. I know that I blew that one. I never should have agreed to it. I should have done the rational thing and just let my lawyer handle it. However, I guess I hoped that talking to her would have allowed us both some sort of closure. Okay, why am I lying to myself? 

I wanted her to tell me that she loved me and that Jimmy was a mistake. I wanted her to beg me to give her another chance and for her to tell me that we could leave together and try to put it all behind us. I guess when the chips were down, the bottom line, the real nitty gritty and a thousand other dumb assed clichés all indicated that I still loved Gretchen with all of my heart. 

However, when I showed up for our "talk"... Our so called "come to Jesus" or for those of us, who aren't religious, our "heart to heart" conversation; it just turned out to be more of Jimmy's manipulation. My "brother" apparently never tired of showing me how easily and how quickly he could take the things that I worked so hard earning, including my wife. 

As for Jimmy...? My erstwhile lifelong best friend and pseudo twin brother got hit by a lifetime of pent up rage and frustration. It wasn't my fists that beat his face in; it was literally decades of doing his homework, supporting his whims, taking part of the punishment for his fuck ups and always, always, always living in his fucking shadow. 

I never and I do mean never want to see either of them again. As for the divorce... Fuck it. I never intend to get married again so I don't need it. 

When I first moved down here, I thought about seeing a shrink to help me get over my issues. However, everybody knows someone who knows somebody else. I worried about the people in my new work environment finding out and thinking that I was nuts. Instead, I simply read a bunch of stories on the Internet about men who'd gone through divorces. Some of those writers describe things as if they've actually been there. 

So while I had no intention of going back to Michigan to burn the bitch, another of the plots on the divorce stories made me realize that the best revenge is sometimes living well. 

Besides, just before leaving Michigan, I had literally beaten the shit out of Jimmy. I beat him so badly that he lost control over his bowels and bladder. I was sure that there was probably a warrant out for my arrest waiting for me back there. My plan of action going forward was simply to do my level best to forget that both Jimmy and Gretchen existed. 

Yep, that was the extent of my revenge, I had beaten Jimmy's ass and done something even crueler to Gretchen. I had left her in the hands of the man she wanted. 

Doing this was more difficult than you would imagine. The reason for this is because I was connected to both of them. I was trying my ass off to get Gretchen out of my heart. But it was tough. The old expression goes "brunettes are hard to get over, and blondes break your heart, but redheads just fuck you up." It was proving to be true. Even four months later I still wake up and reach for her. Every time I go into the mall and see a woman with long curly red hair, I stop in my tracks and stare stupidly at her with my heart beating so loudly that I'm almost certain that everyone can hear it. 

And with the type of hospitality that people in the south have, more than one of those women have come over to me, ready to ask why I was staring at them. I think they were ready to either help me if necessary or kick my ass if that turned out to be required as well. 

A couple of them and their clearly understanding husbands, were very nice to me when they saw my tears and heard the story of why I had reacted the way I did. And those women all walked away with a little bit more twitch in their hips, holding on to evidently grateful mates after learning the depth of my personal pain. 

But every day, I grow stronger and more able to deal with losing Gretchen. My problem is that I have three families who are all trying to support me and who all drop in whenever they damned well please. 

You see; it isn't only my mom and dad who come down to visit me. They usually bring Jimmy's parents along. Jimmy's mom and dad are like my second set of parents. They always have been and always will be. Our parents are also best friends. 

So if one weekend during the long winter, my dad flew down to teach me how to play golf and stay in my large beach house with me, it was no surprise that he brought along, Jimmy's dad. It was also no surprise when I told them that as much as I'd wanted to, I couldn't play golf with them because I was installing a new intercooler in the Mustang and needed most of the weekend to do it. So quite naturally, they went and played without me. 

And of course the next weekend, my mom decided that she needed to help me decorate my new house, and she brought Jimmy's mom along for a second opinion. 

Those things would be bad enough, but Bernie comes down even more frequently with his wife and daughter. We all spent Christmas together. My house has four bedrooms, but one of them has been converted into an office. The sleeping arrangements were bizarre. 

Each set of parents got a room. My parents took my room. Jimmy's folks took the guest room down the hall. Bernie and Patty took the guest room on the first floor. Abby slept in the office and shared a bathroom with her parents, leaving me to sleep on the sofa in the living room. 

We all had a serious talk on Christmas Eve. With temperatures in the fifties, we all put on sweaters and made a fire on the beach. I told them that I loved them all. However, for the sake of my sanity, I needed them to give me some time. They were all always welcome, either singly or in groups. I gave each and every one of them a key to my house. 

But what I needed them to do was not to bring up Jimmy or Gretchen in my presence. I explained to them that I was slowly getting over the past and what had happened. Time would be my best ally and that perhaps someday none of it would matter anymore. 

I saw some strange looks pass between all of them, but they nodded and life went on. 

I think that Patty, Gretchen's mom was the hardest of all of them for me to deal with. I think she noticed the awkwardness between us and made it a point to get me alone. 

So early Christmas morning, I had gotten up to start breakfast for everyone before we exchanged gifts, she caught me alone on the kitchen. 

"So what is it Dylan?" she asked. 

"It's going to be pancakes," I said. 

"Not that," she said quietly. "For a long time, you treated me like you treat your mom and Jimmy's mom. Now you barely speak to me. You don't look at me, and if you do, you quickly look away. You still hug and joke around with my husband, so I must have done something to you. I'll admit that I'm disappointed that things aren't going the way I wanted with you and Gretchen. I'll also admit that I would love to beat Jimmy's face in, the way you did, but I would do it with a shovel. What I don't understand is where you, and I went wrong." 

I looked at her, and she had the beginnings of tears in her eyes. The woman really did have feelings for me. The next thing I knew I was crying too. I just hugged her, and we cried a lot of silent tears together. 




Cryin' in the Rain: Conclusion



"It isn't you Patty," I finally told her. "It's just that... I lo... I loved her so much... And when I see you." I sobbed for a moment. I was too choked up to go on. 

"Oh Dylan," she gushed. "I never thought about it. She looks just like me. It must be torture for you." 

"It's worse than you can imagine," I said. "When I see you, I see the future I was supposed to have had. I see what Gretchen would have looked like after a lot of years together, and after we had our kids and I just start to cry because I almost imagine her as being as beautiful as y..." I never got to finish. She ran out of the kitchen. 

I stayed and concentrated on making breakfast for the rest of my guests. I started on the bacon because I knew with four men in the house, plus Abby, we'd need a lot of bacon. A little while later, Jimmy's mom, Carla, came in to help me. She made the batter and started turning out pancakes that were so perfect that I was sure I could never duplicate them. She made them the exact same way I did. They weren't rough and irregular like the ones my mom made. 

I asked her about it, and she laughed. "Of course, I make them the same way you do, dummy," she laughed. "I taught you how to make pancakes when you were sixteen. I've just had a lot more practice than you have." She thought it was hilarious. 

I remembered it then. Back when we were kids, I would have breakfast with Jimmy's family every Sunday. I loved her large country breakfasts a lot more than my mom's cold cereal and toast breakfasts. My mom didn't like to cook on the weekends. She liked to relax. 

So I would go over and help her cook most Sundays. Jimmy and his dad usually slept until we called them, it had been our time together. I often told her things that I never told even my own parents. As I thought back on it, I had special times with Jimmy's dad too. It had been he who had kindled my love for working on cars. My dad used to take our car into the shop to have the oil changed and to do all the routine maintenance on it. Jimmy's dad did it all himself. I learned to do brake jobs, tune ups and everything else, and before too long I did a lot of the work on our cars too. I always called him over when I had a problem, and he was consistently glad to help. 

I realized then that a big part of the reason I had turned out the way I had was because I'd grown up with the benefit of having twice the normal number of parents. That bullshit that Hillary Clinton said about it taking a village to raise a child might've had a shred of validity to it. 

My mom came down the stairs after that, with a smiling Patty. They had stuck Patty's hair up in a bun so it looked different from Gretchen's and Patty was wearing glasses. She usually only wore them for reading, but they made her look different enough that it wasn't nearly as painful for me.

We all exchanged gifts most of which were mine, and we had a great morning. I had given Gretchen's parents and Abby gifts, as well as presents for all four of my parents. Everyone was having a good time until I brought us all down. 

My mom was on me in an instant. "Dylan, what's wrong?" she asked. 

"This is the first year; that I can remember that I haven't gotten a present for Jimmy," I said, breaking my own rule about mentioning them. 

"But you hadn't heard from him in four or five years," said Jimmy's dad. 

"Every year he bought him a present and put it under the tree," said Gretchen's Dad. "After Christmas, he put them all in the hall closet still wrapped because he was sure that assho... Jimmy would be back." 

"At least you didn't have to waste your money on Gretchen, this year," spat Abby. "Remember last year you got her that big assed diamond bracelet, and stuck it under the tree just to distract her away from the fact that you bought her a friggin' car!" No one said anything after that. 

Mom decided that all the men should go out and play golf, including me. There would be no cloistering myself up in the garage on Christmas. She even told me I could give my Mustang her Christmas presents the following day. The women would all cook Christmas dinner together. 

We decided that my dad and Jimmy's dad would be partners and Bernie, and I would play together. "Which team am I on," asked Abby. We all looked at her crazily. Abby, dressed in yoga pants and a tight, light jacket did not belong on a golf course. 

"I don't know how to cook," she said, "Unless it has microwave instructions. And I can't think of anything more boring than staying here all day long watching the three of them, comparing recipes, and trying to decide who gets to make the mashed potatoes." 

That Christmas set the tone for the next few years. They always included everyone coming down to Florida to spend the holidays with me. 

A few weeks after that first Christmas, roughly six months after I had left Michigan, I was in the garage, as usual, working, not on my car, but a friend's. I thought for a second that I'd heard my door open and close. I listened for a moment and didn't hear anything further so I stayed under the car. 

Even with my creeper, it wasn't easy getting under cars in my garage. In this case, I was installing an entire exhaust system, from long tube headers all the way to polished chrome exhaust tips on a late eighties Mustang. The owner of the car started the project with me. We were upgrading many of the car's systems, but his wife was waving the flag on too many late-night garage sessions. 

By ten, I had the entire left side hung and ready for the tips. I decided to call it a night and let Greg help with the other side the next day. That was when I walked into my house from the garage and pulled my shirt over my head. 

"Oh... my. It's good to see you're still staying in shape," gushed a female voice. I looked into my living room to see Abby sitting there. She had her feet drawn up under her on my sofa. She had all kinds of papers on my coffee table. 

There was an open pizza box and candles burning in my dining room. 

"Hi Abs," I said once the surprise wore off. "What are you doing here?" 

"I came down for a break," she said. "I have a three-day weekend for Martin Luther King day on Monday. I figured I would stay with you Saturday and Sunday and fly home on Monday. That way, I could escape the sub-zero Michigan temperatures for a couple of days. It's okay isn't it?" 

"Uh... Yep," I said. 

"I mean it's not like you're re going to have a woman here or anything, is it?" she said. 

"I actually do," I said. "It's kind of an awkward situation. It's nothing permanent. She uhm, belongs to another guy and..."

"Dyyyylaaaaann," she whined, drawing my name out to at least fourteen syllables. "You aren't supposed to do things like that. I mean even though someone did it to you. My sister and your... Br... friend. I refuse to call that asshole your brother... Anyway they're worthless. But, you're a good guy. Where is this skank? Is she out there in the back? Is that what you've been doing?" She went out the back door that I had just walked in from and into my connected garage. She turned the lights on and started laughing. 

"It's the car isn't it?" she laughed elbowing me in my side. She stepped down the one step between the garage and the level of the house and looked at the car. 

She was wearing a very short, extremely sheer nightie, and as she bent to try to see what was going on under the car that made it necessary for it to be raised on ramps, it gave me a view of what was going on under that silky nightie. 

Abby was either wearing a thong or nothing. All I could see was the fleshy half globes of her ass cheeks and after at least five months without sex, they got a reaction. 

As I've mentioned, Abby is shorter than Gretchen. Her hair is blond, not red, and it's straight not curly as her sister's is. Even though she's as thin as Gretchen is, being shorter makes her appear curvier and her boobs are at least a couple of sizes bigger. As she straightened up and caught me looking at her ass, she never said a word. Her lips drew into a smile though and let's just say that her headlights turned on. 

"Dylan, why is everything on this car black?" she asked. She was trying really hard not to smirk. 

"It's just a style thing," I said. "A lot of people really love that dangerous, predatory look that it gives their cars." 

"Well it looks stupid to me," she said. "It looks like Darth Vader's Mustang." 

She took my hand and led me back into the house. We ate pizza together and drank beer. We told each other jokes, and talked about our lives. Finally, she was relaxed and we went back into the living room. She kept moving closer to me on the sofa and laughing until I had nowhere else to move. Then she wrapped her silky arms around me and tried to kiss me. 

I turned my head. "Abby, you're Gret's sister," I said. 

"So fucking what," she spat. "You and Gretchen are over and done with." 

"Abby, it's..." I began. 

"Dylan, I've liked you for a long time," she said. "You and I are both adults. I'm twenty-five years old. I have a good career as a teacher. I have my own house. I'm not living in a shitty little apartment, barely getting by like Gretchen is."  

"What!" I said. "She had all the money from selling the house. She also had everything I left her in checking and savings."

"She blew a lot of it trying to hold onto that house," said Abby. "She held onto the idea that you would come back, until the bank foreclosed on it. She lost all of your equity in the house, and it fucked up her credit big time. They moved into a shitty apartment, and she's trying to work for as long as she can before..." 

"Before Jimmy runs out on her again right?" I said. "Well I don't care. With both of them working, they ought to be able at least pay to their rent. I don't want to know about them." 

"Bullshit," she spat. "You should have seen the look on your face when I mentioned her. Dylan you need to get over my sister. She shit on you, plain and simple. I am so tired of being compared to Saint Gretchen that I just want to puke. 

Do you know what it's like growing up in the shadows? Everything Gret did was perfect. If I equaled her, in school or in anything else I would lose, it didn't matter because she had already done it first. And if I fell short; then everyone acted like it was expected because after all, she was GRETCHEN. 

I was supposed to do everything like Gret did it. I went through life not doing things because I wanted to be myself. I wasn't a cheerleader because Gret had already done it. She was captain of our high school team. Guess what I competed in gymnastics. I could flip rings around Gretchen. However, if I went out for the cheer team, all I'd have heard was, Gretchen this, Gretchen that. 

I came here this weekend to help you get over my stupid sister. You need this weekend as much as I do. You're too fragile, Dylan." 

"I'm fine, Abby," I said. 

"Dylan you should have seen your face when I mentioned her, you're not fine. That's why no one wants to tell you..." she said. 

"Abby, it was me who decided that I didn't want to hear about them. As a matter of fact, I get better every day," I said. "In fact, fact I've been thinking about it, and I realize that she was always Jimmy's girl. I guess maybe it was love at first sight for all of us. I loved her as soon as I saw her. She loved Jimmy as soon as she saw him. In the same way that I've had trouble getting over her, she couldn't get over him. It's just life." 

"Dylan, she's pregnant again and I'm pretty sure he's cheating on her already," she said. "It's not them, working to pay their rent. It's her. Jimmy can't or won't get a job. He claims he can't do anything involving manual labor, because of his knees. He can't do anything else because he has no education and no skills. What he can do apparently is drink beer and watch TV." 

I felt my heart suddenly speed up. Blood coursed through my veins so hard that I felt like I was blowing up like the hulk. I took deep breaths and didn't explode. 

"Dylan, say something," said Abby beside me. 

"I hope they're very happy," I said. "They both have each other, and now they'll have a child. Maybe this is the way it was all supposed to work out." 

"Yeah," she said sarcastically, "A romance written in hell with the blood and pain of the innocents. She gets a life with an asshole that is already cheating on her. Now she's tied to him by a baby and hoping he doesn't run out on her a second time. She's wishing with all of her heart and soul that you'll come back for her. I told that bitch lightning doesn't strike twice. And he's stuck with a woman he has no respect for and no love for. Shit, he hits on me every time I visit her. So as soon as she leaves the room he's leering at me. Both of them ask about you all the time. No one, not mom, or dad. me, or even his own parents will tell either of them anything about where you are. I really feel sorry for that kid. It won't have a chance." 

"Abby, Gretchen is an amazing woman," I said. "If anyone can make the whole nearly single mom thing work, it's her." 

"Don't start that shit, Dylan," she said angrily. "My sister is not a fucking Saint. She shits, just like everyone else. Her farts don't smell like roses. And she fucks up a lot." 

I was astonished at the anger in her tone. 

"Abby why don't you like Gretchen?" I asked. 

"Dylan, for once look at ME," she said. "Don't look at me as Gretchen's KID sister. I'm far more of a woman than Gret ever was." She pulled the nightie over her head, and as I'd suspected was completely naked under it. 

Her breasts were above average size, but on her tiny frame looked huge. Her waist narrowed in and flared outwards to rounded hips that Gretchen would never have. 

"Dylan; is my sister built like this?" she asked. I shook my head. 

"I can do things with you, and for you that my sister would never dream of," she gushed. "Dylan did you know that Saint Gretchen was a virgin until she turned twenty-one and met Jimmy? Did you know that she's always told me that the best sex she's ever had was always with you? You're bigger and much better in bed than he is. She asked me for a few tips to make things better for you two and..." 

"What," I asked in surprise. "Why would she...?" 

"Why would she ask me? Why would she ask the KID sister for tips," she laughed? "I told you we're different. Dylan my sister is awful in bed. That's why Jimmy cheats on her. She really expects every guy that she's been with, all two of you, to feel like it's an honor to fuck her, while she lays there like a beautiful blow up doll." I was stunned. 

"Remember when you two had been married for a couple of years and those first awkward blowjobs she gave you? I taught her or tried to. And you should know she has never, even now, sucked Jimmy's dick... And..." she was going to continue, but I held my hand up stopping her. It was all too much Info. 

She sat down, in my lap and wrapped her arms around me. Her naked body and it's smooth, warm skin, along with her wonderful smell dominated my senses even as her words caused synaptic distress throughout my mind. 

"Jimmy and I are the only..." I sputtered. 

"Yep, it's kind of funny isn't it," she laughed. "I've fucked literally dozens of guys; I'm sure it's over a hundred. And she's only been with two, but she's a bigger whore than I'll ever be." She laughed, and I noticed that she was slowly rubbing herself on me. She was purposefully trying to arouse me even more than I already was. 

"Abby, what do you mean dozens," I asked. 

"I started college late," she said. "The summer after high school, I broke my femur and patella in a gymnastics meet. Two surgeries on the femur and one on the patella plus recovery time meant that it was eight months before I was fully recovered. By then I had missed the majority of my first two semesters. I was nineteen when I first started college. 

I was also nineteen when I first had sex. "I just did it out of curiosity and because everyone made such a big deal out of the fact that Gretchen didn't do it. I told you she was a Saint. Who else would forego one of the greatest pleasures life has to offer just so everyone can brag about how pure she was? All the way until she met the devil himself in the form of your... scumbag friend. 

So the first year at school I fucked about twenty guys. I did the same thing the second year. Now the thing that was different about those two years was you Dylan. The first year I was just experimenting. The second year, or partially through it, I met you in Gretchen's hospital room. I liked you instantly. I say like because I know that love takes time, but I wanted you from that first second. 

I had heard Gretchen bragging about Jimmy, so my dad and I came to a couple of your football games. We never met you, because you were so God Damned shy. However, neither dad nor I was overly impressed with Jimmy. Getting back to my story, when you walked into the room, I was pissed. I mean, first off, I only went to the hospital, so I could see my parents read Saint Gretchen the riot act about getting pregnant. 

Gretchen had spoken to me a couple of times about me coming to your school so the four of us could double date. I had hated the idea because anyone that Saint Gretchen liked had to be as much of an asshole as Jimmy. But that first day at the hospital, your eyes told me the story. I knew that given a chance you, and I could be great together. 

I was doing that thing that high school girls do. I was imagining myself as Abigail Marshall and coming up with names for our kids. But then you walked into the room, and you didn't even see me or my mom or that pretty blond nurse in the room. You only had eyes for Saint Gretchen. I had on a low-cut top and a miniskirt. My hair was perfect; my makeup was perfect. Gret was completely covered, with no makeup and looked like hell. 

But to you, she was the only person in that room. My mom and dad fell in love with you right then and there. Even on the flight back all they talked about was that the two of you would fall in love while you helped her recover. They were fully convinced that the two of you would get married. 

I was pissed. Gretchen had a chance at two guys. She got first pick. She took your scummy brother. You were supposed to be mine. She gave you to me. But then her asshole ran out on her, and she took you too. I hoped for the rest of that year that Jimmy would come back the way you said he would. I wanted you so badly that I started fucking guys who looked like you. 

However, you ended up with Gret, so I fucked more guys to get over you. None of it mattered, Dylan. It was all just college bullshit. I neither had nor wanted a boyfriend, what I wanted, was you. I didn't sleep with guys who had girlfriends and none of it was emotional. All of my emotions were tied up in you. It was only sex. Unlike Gret, I enjoyed sex and I'm really good at it, as you're going to find out in a few minutes." 

"Nope, I'm not, Abby," I said. "Abby you were always, at least as pretty as Gretchen. And you're a lot sexier. You're built better and..." 

"And what," she screamed. "Dylan, I know you don't love me yet, but all I'm talking about is sex. I'm talking about you having the best two nights of your life and then deciding if you want to repeat it. I'm talking about two adults doing something perfectly legal that we both need. I think we just need to spend some time together away from Gret and your asshole friend. My parents would love it. And you can take your time deciding about whether or not you love..." 

"Abby, I don't need any time for that," I said. "I already love you. I love you far more than you know. I love you too much to take advantage of you. And maybe I'm just too old fashioned but for me to do that I would have not only to love you but to be in love with you. And right now my heart is just too broken even to think about that. So let's try to have a nice weekend together and make some memories for just us." 




Cryin' in the Rain: Conclusion



"Okay," she said. "But can we at least SLEEP in the same bed?" I just nodded. 

"Nothing is going to happen, Abby," I said. 

"I'll bet we end up fucking," she told me confidently. 

The next morning I woke up with Abby wrapped around me like a python. "Jimmy was right," she said. "Apparently, you are only attracted to redheads with lots of freckles and no tits." 

After that, Abby came out to stay with me occasionally. We settled into a comfortable relationship with her as my little sister, just as she would have been if Gretchen and I had stayed together. 

My house became the second house for the entire extended family with the exception of Jimmy and Gretchen. No one ever mentioned them to me until just after Gretchen gave birth to her daughter Pattigail. Carla called me the next day. 

I was driving to Tallahassee for a meeting with one of the plant's suppliers. I didn't have breakfast that morning. My stomach was upset. The last time I felt that queasy weird feeling had been when Jimmy had his accident. It just felt like someone important to me was in pain. I had recovered or they had, and now I was starving. I pulled into a really busy little mom and pop restaurant, just off of the freeway. It was called Sam's Casablanca Cafe.

I had never been in there before, but judging from the number of trucks parked outside of it; the food had to be good. A waitress, a really pretty younger black woman smiled at me and gestured for me to sit at the only empty table in the place. Even though it was late for breakfast and early for lunch the place was raucous and lively. An older man who looked like he'd been around forever was playing a mix of swing and boogie woogie songs on a piano that was probably older than he was. Just as I sat down my phone rang. I looked at the screen and saw who it was. 

"Dylan, Gretchen had her baby, yesterday," she said. From her halting tone, I knew that she wanted to talk. "Honey, I think you should c..." I cut her off. 

"Mom, I just can't," I said. 

"Dylan do you realize..." she began again. 

"Yes I realize who you are Carla," I said. "And I called you Mom because you're as much my mom as my mother is. Both of you raised both of us. I know that the birth of a child is a special thing in a family. It should bring out the best of us, and we can use it to mend old issues, but I just can't. I love Jimmy like a brother, but I can't forgive him. He didn't even love Gretchen when he did what he did. I doubt that he even loves her, now. Abby tells me that he cheats on her regularly. I hope that being a father teaches him some responsibility and that he and Gretchen, and the baby are all healthy and happy. However, he stole the only woman I have ever loved, and I don't think I can forgive that." I hung up the phone and started to look at the menu when I heard a voice. 

"The only woman you ever loved, huh? So what does that make me?" As soon as I saw her eyes, I recognized her. 

"Dylan Marshall," she smirked. "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, you walk into mine..."

As soon as she said my name, the music from the piano in the corner of the room stopped and started again. The boogie woogie tune was replaced by another old out of place chestnut, "As time goes by." 

"Sarah," I gushed! 

* * * * * *

Gretchen

A pregnancy is supposed to be a magical and romantic time for a couple. Perhaps if I was a part of a couple, this one would be. But a couple involves two people in love with each other, and that's not what we are. Jimmy and I are two people who are tied together not by love but by mutual contempt. The only thing keeping us together is the hope that the person we both love will someday come back into our lives and jointly, one of us has a chance at a life with him. 

To that end, I am keeping this baby. Dylan made my first pregnancy a wonderful experience. That time I was so afraid of the changes to my body and the life I carried within me. I was more fearful of my baby than anything else. I worried about everything that first time. I worried now my parents would take it. So I didn't tell them anything until I lost it. 

I worried that Jimmy would never come back into my life, and he didn't until it was long over and done with. I also worried how my life would be. Would I finish school? How would my friends see me? What would I do? How the hell could I bring up a child by myself? Especially when I felt like a child myself. 

The funny thing about it is that as frightened as I was, as much as I wished and sometimes cried for Jimmy to come back, that pregnancy turned into the second most magical time of my life. 

During that pregnancy, I discovered what unconditional love was really about; not from Jimmy of course, but from Dylan. Dylan never left me alone. He cooked for me and cleaned for me and took care of any and everything I asked of him. There was never the slightest hesitation or question. 

I had never realized it until much later but Dylan, unlike the way I thought he saw things had feelings for me himself. He'd been sleeping during the argument when Jimmy broke up with me and blamed me alone for getting pregnant. However, even though Jimmy complained about him doing it, Dylan had gotten out of bed to drive me home and try to calm me down. Dylan, who I'd always thought hated me, took me to all of my doctor's appointments and rubbed my tummy and fed me and cuddled with me and watched stupid girly movies with me, so I was never sad and never felt like I was going through it alone.

Dylan could have very easily gotten me to have sex with him during that time, but he never did. He not once made a single demand on me. And then when I needed him most, before I even knew I needed him, Dylan had saved my life. While I was in the hospital, nurses told me exactly how lucky I was. Most of them had seen too many stories of women who had died during pregnancy due to spontaneous hemorrhages. Something inside of them, some tiny or not so tiny blood vessel is over stressed by the weight or position of the life growing inside of them. In some cases, they move a certain way, in others it's a matter of time, but that blood vessel gives way or ruptures, and they bleed to death before anyone can do anything about it. 

I'm still here, still breathing and complaining because Dylan awoke from a sound sleep and as usual his only concern was for me. He felt the beginnings of my bleeding out and rushed me to the hospital. 

Even my doctor considered it a miracle. "You should have died," he told me. "If Dylan had stopped to get dressed, or do anything else... If he'd been less insistent when he demanded that someone take care of you right at that moment... You wouldn't have survived. That man is wholly responsible for you being alive, my doctor told me."

Then things got even more confusing. They had contacted my parents because in my wallet, I had my I.C.E. card. It lists the people to contact in case of emergency. My mom, dad and my sister were all there within hours of my being admitted into the hospital. Dylan had sat there with his feet bleeding, holding my hand while I slept. A nurse whom we both knew had convinced him to go home and change, during the time that he was gone, my family arrived. 

My dad took one look at Dylan and thought he was Jimmy. During my few lucid moments, I'd mumbled to my dad that Jimmy had gotten me pregnant and ran out on me. 

My dad was enraged; Dylan was frustrated. Dylan was also really upset at Jimmy. He was like a powder keg, just waiting to go off. My dad was the fuse. He ran up and took a swing at Dylan and Dylan slammed him into a wall. The witnesses explained to my Dad what had really happened. While the security guards held my dad in one office and Dylan in another, they showed my dad the video of Dylan bringing me in and explained to them that Dylan wasn't Jimmy. They told my dad to calm down, or they'd throw him out of the hospital. 

Meanwhile, they asked Dylan to leave the hospital to keep the peace. Dylan was on his way out when my dad called him and brought him back in. My dad once he calmed down realized that he had actually blamed a person who was not only innocent, but had saved my life. 

And then for everyone except me, the magic happened. When my dad escorted Dylan back into my hospital room, he saw it instantly. My mom saw it too and so did my sister. All I saw was Dylan walking into the room. I saw that several times a day every day. In fact, I saw Dylan so often he had become like a part of the furniture. 

My mom and dad were staring at me like I had won the lottery. Over the next few days, I had the chance to talk to them all while Dylan was out running errands for me or getting my books, so I could stay up on my class work. 

"He's truly a handsome young man," my mom told me. "And he really loves you." 

"Mom are you high on something?" I asked her. "Jimmy loves me; Dylan is just standing in until he comes back." 

"Don't worry about it, Honey," my dad told me later. "For whatever reason, you ended up with the right guy. Dylan would probably die for you." 

"Daddy, have you lost your mind?" I asked. 

"Gretchen Marie," he said. "Have you ever noticed the way he looks at you? Next time he comes back from fetching something for you, take a real hard look at the way he is when he sees you. He doesn't see anyone else in the room. Watch the doctors. You're their responsibility, but even they look around. Of course, your sister dressing like a hooker doesn't help. However, I think the poor girl could stand next to you naked and Dylan would probably never notice her." 

Even Abby had something to say about it. "You lying bitch," she hissed the first time we were alone together. 

"Abby what's your problem?" I asked her. 

"You," she spat. "What happened to me transferring to this school? When you first hooked up with Mr. Wonderful, who got your cherry and apparently got you pregnant, you told me the brother was all mine, didn't you?" 

"Well... Uhm... Yeah," I admitted. "But Abby, there are lots of guys out there. You keep bragging to me about how many guys at your school that you've had sex with. And right now I need this one. As soon as I get through this, I'll arrange for the two of you to meet." 

I did tell her that, but it never happened. Dylan did come back a short time later, and I realized that my parents were right. Dylan loved me. But try as I might, all I could see was how much like Jimmy he was. However, he was like an unfinished version of Jimmy. The ballsy dominating personality was missing. The swagger and the confidence were also missing. 

It took me weeks to realize that Dylan had other qualities though that more than made up for those things. 

As soon as I was able to return to school, I started hearing things. And a lot of those things hurt me. I learned that several of my friends had slept with Jimmy. Not only was he cheating on me and had been since we first got together, but he had no scruples about screwing my closest friends. 

Since they were all mostly one-night stands, I convinced myself that he was just sowing the last of his wild oats. Jimmy had been through hell after all. He had been badly injured and had lost his lifetime dream. He'd been going through a depression, as I was then. It made people do things that were normally considered outside of their character. 

I clung to that reasoning until people started laughing at me and reminding me that he had cheated on me before he got hurt. They also told me that he had cheated on the girls before me and the girl before her. They told me that I should ask Dylan about some girl named Sarah. 

But almost every person I ran into, male or female told me that I had, in fact, won. I ended up with the better of the twins. There were girls that wanted to date Dylan, but he was far too shy ever to approach them. One of my friends reminded me of how sweet Dylan could be. She reminded me about his "date" with the woman who ran the library. I began to see Dylan in a brand-new light. 

I didn't want to make another mistake, so I watched Dylan for weeks. I waited to see if he would cheat on me even though we weren't actually together. He never did. I decided that he just needed the right motivation. So I convinced a couple of my friends, one who was built like me, taller, slimmer and less endowed; the other was very curvaceous and flirtatious as well, to help me out. 

The two of them stalked Dylan and both of them caught him, and asked him out. One was pretty subtle. The other just flat out asked him out and hinted, without an ounce of subtlety that he could have sex with her. These were two very pretty girls. They both got their feelings hurt. Dylan turned them both down flat. 

That told me that I could probably trust and count on Dylan. It also generated a bit of excitement for him in me that had been lacking. Maybe he wasn't a wild and unpredictable animal like Jimmy. Maybe he wasn't someone exciting who could never be tamed, but he was someone unattainable to everyone except me. Dylan was something that Jimmy would probably never be. He was mine alone. 

So I confronted him. I asked him about everything I had heard. I even asked him about Sarah, and I was shocked. Jimmy had once mentioned the possibility of him, me, and Dylan doing a threesome, but I had thought he was joking. Of course, Jimmy could probably have gotten me to do it, but I saw now that what I had thought of as a joke or a test was probably real. 

Jimmy had gotten another woman to have sex with Dylan, just so he could go out and cheat on her. What he hadn't expected was that Dylan had fallen for her. The tragedy had been that Jimmy hadn't foreseen that Sarah would have fallen for Dylan too. In fact, I saw something that I don't think either Jimmy or Dylan saw. In the end, it had been falling for Dylan that had given her the strength simply to walk away from the whole mess. 

The problem was that even as she decided to get away from the toxic triangle, she realized that as much as Dylan loved her, he loved Jimmy more. Separating the two of them would have killed Dylan. Or at least, it would have killed everything that she loved in him. So she walked away from both. 

Sarah leaving them hurt Dylan far more than anyone else. Jimmy simply didn't care. In fact, he was still making fun of Dylan moping over Sarah when he met me, more than a year later. 

I should in reality be grateful to Sarah. It was the pain of what Dylan went through with Sarah that actually gave him the strength to stand up to Jimmy over me. Jimmy had intended for both of them to leave, but Dylan had not only stood his ground but had been taking care of me ever since. 

The funniest thing about it was that I had believed all along that Dylan hadn't liked me when we first met. However, he actually fell for me instantly. But there were two reasons, both related to Jimmy; that made him avoid me. The first was that no matter how much he liked me; I was Jimmy's girl. That alone made me like poison to him. The second was that he didn't want to get to know me or spend any time with me, because from the very beginning, he'd known that Jimmy would eventually discard me as he had Sarah and Dylan just didn't want to go through that kind of pain again. 

I made Dylan promise me that from then on he would always put me first, even before Jimmy, and he said that he would. And for the most part, Dylan has kept his word, but I also know after my talk with Sylvia that Dylan had always known that Jimmy had never loved me. Sylvia had told me what echoed a lot of the things my friends back in college told me. Jimmy was simply not turned on by women like me at all. In fact, he could have picked any one of a number of women when he picked me. 

Jimmy's agent had told him that he needed a more clean cut type for his steady girlfriend. Jimmy preferred women with huge boobs, thick legs, and big butts. Sylvia also filled me in on the fact that Jimmy had told Dylan that he hated my freckles and my face. I had basically ruined my life over a man who had never loved me and never would. 

The thing that bothered me even more was that according to Sylvia, Dylan had gotten angry and walked out of the bar. He had told Jimmy that he would talk to me about letting him stay with us, but not only had he never mentioned it to me, he had never called Jimmy back. Dylan had, in fact, made up his mind. Dylan had picked me over Jimmy. 

Dylan had known from the beginning that Jimmy didn't even like me, let alone love me, but whether he hadn't wanted to cast Jimmy in a bad light, or he had just wanted to spare my feelings, he never told me. 

What he did tell me though was how beautiful I was. He told me that every day that we were together. He told me that and how much he loved me so often that I made the worst mistake a woman can make. I took it for granted. Dylan was never ashamed of me. Dylan had no pride when it came to me. He loved me unconditionally. Dylan would tell me how beautiful I was when we were alone, or if we were in public. The man even embarrassed other people by asking them or telling them how beautiful I was. 

My dad even laughed about it. And my mother loves Dylan completely. Dylan has often pointed out the similarities between us and told her that he couldn't wait until I look exactly like her. Even a woman as old and happily married as my mother can be swayed by that type of flattery. 

The funny thing about all of this... the one thing that makes it some sort of cosmic joke is that Jimmy always tells Dylan the truth. Not every man likes redheads. Most men prefer women who can tan. The freckles are also a big turn off for some men, especially when a woman has as many as I do. 

However, some men, as my sister puts it, just love eating at Wendy's. Dylan and I settled into a perfect life. It was the best time that I can remember and Dylan had to ruin it all. Nope, I didn't mean Jimmy ruined it. I mean Dylan did. Dylan gave me any and everything I wanted. As I've said before, he filled my head with how beautiful and sexy I was, and how much he loved me. So I began to believe that I deserved it all. 

I can see now that Dylan busted his ass to make me happy. All along I considered that Jimmy and Dylan were two very similar men, but all along Dylan was far more complex than I ever have him credit for. At the plant, Dylan was dynamic and forceful. At home with me, he was loving and tender and always gave in to me. He loved me so much that I really believed he was some sort of submissive. What I simply didn't understand was that Dylan was only that way with people he loved. And under all of that love lurked a man who was just as forceful and dominating as Jimmy. 

It first peeked its head out when he punched Jimmy out for bringing up Sarah, after he came home and somehow knew what had gone on between Jimmy and me. I should have gone to him and talked to him honestly about the whole thing. Instead, I let Jimmy con me into tricking Dylan and we all lost. 

Jimmy and Dylan lost each other; I lost the most wonderful time in my life and a man who truly loved me. Dylan took care of me so well when I was pregnant the first time. He did it even though the baby wasn't his. 

Jimmy could care less about our child. He goes out most nights and comes home smelling like pussy, cigarettes and liquor. One of our biggest arguments happened when I confronted him about our relationship or lack of one. 

"Why do you have to go out every night?" I yelled at him. "And you hit on all kinds of women, some of whom I even know. Why can't you just stay home? We are having a baby remember?" 

I guess I was so used to dealing with Dylan that I had no idea of what I should or could say. 

"We aren't having shit!" he yelled right back at me. "It isn't my fault that every time I look at you; you end up pregnant. I don't want any fucking kids. You're a grown assed woman. Someone should have taught you about birth control by now, unless you're just too stupid to use it." I was floored. And he wasn't finished. 




Cryin' in the Rain: Conclusion



"I go out every night to find company," he said. "I'm locked in this shitty apartment all day long. You take the car to go to work. So at night, I have to find people to talk to and interact with and women to..."

"Why can't you talk to me?" I whined. "And I'm a woman." 

I tried to put myself out there then. "You could have sex with me," I said. "We haven't really done it since the two times we did it when you first came back." 

I was willing to have sex with him to keep him in the apartment; mostly to keep myself from being embarrassed by people I knew telling me about what he did. I didn't really want to have sex with him, but at the same time when women are pregnant they get really horny. 

He just laughed in my face. "Surely my brother has told you that I don't find you even remotely attractive," he laughed. "To me, you are flat out FUGLY. And worse than that, you are the single, worst fuck I have ever had. The first time I did you when I got back was just out of curiosity. I wanted to see if you'd gotten any better with age. You haven't. The second time I was drunk, and I needed to make sure you understood that we need to work together to get Dylan back. But I wasn't drunk enough to enjoy it." He laughed some more. 

"I feel almost sorry for Dill," he laughed. "The boy is so in love with you that you can give him tuna every night and convince him that it's steak. Dylan clearly has no idea what really good pussy is like." 

I was hurt. No one ever hurt me that badly. He had basically explained to me, in no uncertain terms, that I was ugly, unattractive, and terrible in bed. Furthermore, he had no interest in our child, and it was my fault alone that I was pregnant. 

I had realized since the very second that Dylan had walked into our house and stared at me that I had screwed up. The pain in his eyes mixed with that almost puppy-dog love that I had taken for granted had shown me the depth of the wrong I had done. But somehow I had told myself that it was all going to work out. I told myself that it was like when a doctor tells you that the needle stick won't hurt, just so you give him your arm, and he gives you medicine to make you well. 

But just like doctors lie. I was wrong. Jimmy was a fucking monster. Dylan had been right not to even tell me anything about him. We should have gone on with our lives and forgotten about him. 

I saw then the real differences between them. They were like opposite sides of the same coin. Dylan was nice to everyone and only forceful when he had to be. Jimmy treated everyone like shit, and was only nice to Dylan. He didn't even call his own parents yet. 

I needed to get back at him then. I needed to stand up to him like Dylan had. Maybe he would respect that. 

"You probably don't enjoy fucking me because you've noticed that I don't react much," I said. 

"Yep, you're a dead fuck," he sneered. 

"I guess that isn't your fault," I said. "Dylan's dick is so much bigger that I barely even know you're there. And you don't really last long either. Before I feel anything, you're done. Maybe when Dylan comes back you can get him to give you some less..." 

I never even saw it coming. I was just dazed. He didn't completely knock me out. But I was too out of it to be able to stand up, and my head was spinning. I vaguely remember him standing over me and talking at me. 

"See what you made me do," he said. "Get up and sleep it off. Your mouth is bleeding. Maybe you should put some ice on it. I'm going out to calm down. You need to learn to watch your fucking mouth. I'm not Dylan. I won't take that kind of shit." 

The next day, we didn't talk at all. He never apologized, because after all, it was my fault. I was still in a daze. When my sister came to visit me, she told me to call the police. I told her that we were both just upset about Dylan. She broke down and started crying. 

She told me something that gave me hope and also something that pissed me off royally. She told me about how the families all got together at Dylan's beautiful new house. She also told me that he had asked them all never to tell him anything about Jimmy and me. He didn't want to know anything about us. That made me feel like I was going through all of this for nothing. Then she told me about trying to seduce Dylan and failing. She told me that she had told him I was pregnant and how she thought that she hadn't been able to get Dylan to have sex with her because deep down in his heart, Dylan still loved me. 

She also made something clear that I had wondered about. I had seen my mother the week before, and she'd had her hair up in a bun. She had never done that before. Abby explained to me that she had started doing it because at Christmas, Dylan had been so uncomfortable looking at her because she was so much like me. 

Smiling, hurt my bruised mouth, but I smiled anyway because I knew it was only a matter of time before Dylan came back for me. Now that he knew that I was pregnant, and he knew how Jimmy felt about me, Dylan would never leave me with Jimmy. I also knew my sister. She would back off on trying to fuck Dylan for a while, but she would try again. And she would also tell Dylan about Jimmy hitting me. 

Over the next few months, things got worse between Jimmy and I. He even got to the point where he would hit on my sister in front of me. My father tried to have him arrested, but I refused to press charges. I think Jimmy and I both knew that when the final reckoning came, all three of us needed to be present. 

So almost exactly nine months after Jimmy came back in my life, I gave birth to a little girl. I named her Pattigail after my mother and sister. I just knew that Dylan would show up, if only to see the baby. I was ready to tell him everything and leave with him on the spot. I would just take my baby and get on a plane and fly to wherever he lived now. I would leave everything else behind to be with him. But Dylan never came. 

Another thing that was odd was that Jimmy never came either. He did not once come to the hospital.

My mom and dad came. My sister came. Jimmy's mom came, along with his dad. His dad went back home but surprisingly Jimmy's mom stayed and actually called Dylan's mom. 

The two of them looked at me as if there was something they really needed to tell me. I chalked it up to them wanting to apologize for Dylan not showing up. 

"You don't have to... Please don't say anything," I told them. "I already know." They both nodded. 

"But we're going to talk to him," said Dylan's mom. That left me with a lot of hope. What I never realized was that we were talking about completely different subjects. I was under the impression that they thought Dylan should have been here and should apologize to me for not coming. I gathered then that someone had broken the Dylan rules and told him about me having my baby. 

However, they were upset for a completely different reason. They thought that I knew what they had discovered instantly upon walking into the room. I thought that they knew how miserable I was and knew that no matter what, Dylan and I belonged together. We had both made mistakes, me more than he, but in order for anyone to be happy, Dylan and I had to act like adults and get back together. 

I knew from Abby that Dylan hadn't taken her bait and wasn't dating anyone. He still loved me; he was just too fucking stubborn and too hurt to come back. 

I also knew that it was time for me to grow up. I had to stop thinking of myself as some sort of fairy princess. That was another thing I had developed through Dylan. I had to realize that except for in Dylan's heart; I was just another ordinary woman. I still had bills to pay and responsibilities. And one of the things I had to deal with was that it was time to abandon the bullshit. I would give Dylan's mothers a little bit of time to get him to see reason. But after that I would go to him myself. I would make him talk to me, whether he wanted to or not. 

But no matter how things went; Jimmy had outlived his usefulness to me. It was clear that he had been wrong about us needing each other to get Dylan back. Both, he and the mothers also were wrong about nothing coming between the two of them. Clearly, I had come between the two of them, and Dylan had kicked Jimmy's ass over me. He had never looked back. I had heard surprisingly that he still loved and missed me, but never that he had even so much as asked about Jimmy. Our partnership was at an end. Jimmy, by not showing up to see the birth of his own child had burned his bridges. It was like he'd run out on me all over again. 

I don't know what I expected. I guess I hoped that he had a good reason for not going to the hospital even once. The hospital and my insurance company only allowed a healthy mother and baby to stay in the hospital for two or three days after a birth. I wanted to start doing things on my own, so I told my family that Abby was going to drive me home from the hospital, and that we'd have a party at a later date to celebrate my baby's birth. 

In actuality, my homecoming was not what I expected. I was carrying my baby in her car seat/ baby carrier while Abby used my keys to open the door. I was on edge because during the drive, Abby, had observed that it was weird that she had her own key to Dylan's house, yet not one to my apartment. 

I found out that she had, in fact, told Dylan that I was pregnant months ago, and he had told her he wished us all well. He hoped that Jimmy, the baby and I were all happy. After further grilling of my ass brained sibling, I discovered that Dylan really believed that Jimmy and I were happy together. I needed to convince Abby to give me Dylan's contact information. She abjectly refused. I knew then that she still hoped that someday she could have him for herself. She also refused to carry any messages for me, but she would tell him that I'd had Jimmy's baby. 

When Abby opened the door for me, the mystery of Jimmy's absence was solved. 

There was a woman with a huge ass with her back to me. She was bouncing her ass up and down on Jimmy's dick while he thrust upwards into her. Her ass moved like some sort of fleshy pump as it cycled upwards and downwards making squishy, sucking sounds with each movement. Those large ass cheeks flexed and rippled with every movement as she jumped him faster and faster. 

She turned to face us and sneered for us to close the door. Her obviously fake breasts were clutched on Jimmy's hands as he licked and sucked them. Suddenly, his eyes locked to mine and surprise registered. 

"Shit, I thought you were the pizza boy," he spat. "I leave the door open, so he can come in and get a thrill." All during this exchange the woman's ass had never stopped moving. Another thing that surprised me was the lack of shock on my sister's face.

"Jimmy, you and your... friend, need to get out of my apartment," I said. 

"I thought this was your place," she said suddenly. I finally got a look at her face and was surprised. The woman was far older than I had ever suspected. The long blond hair that framed and nearly covered her face hid a multitude of line and wrinkles. As she got up thought I noticed how toned and shaped her body was. Her breasts were so big that you could see them from behind her. Her ass was so rounded and stuck out so far that I could barely believe it. But looking at her face, she had to be my mother's age. 

She calmly put her clothes on, while I stood there clutching my baby. She reached over onto the table and took Jimmy's wallet. She took out a couple of bills. 

"Hey, I never said anything about paying for it," yelled Jimmy. 

"I'm a stripper not a whore," she said. "If you were paying for it, I would have cost you a hell of a lot more. But you promised me a place to stay until the paint fumes in my apartment died down. This is for my motel room." And then she left. 

"I thought you stayed in the hospital for a week after having a kid," he said glancing at me. "I was gonna come and pick you up on Friday. What did Dylan say about the kid?" 

I just left him standing there. I later found out that Jimmy had also wrecked and abandoned my car, while I was in the hospital. I reported it stolen, and my insurance company investigated it. They discovered that on the day of the accident, I was in the hospital having my child, so they paid me. 

They cited depreciation and the age of the vehicle. So they only paid me enough to buy a used Chrysler minivan. It was an awful vehicle considering that my Caddy was only three years old. 

I also found out that Jimmy had raided my bank account. I needed to borrow money from my mother just to make my rent that month. Things between Jimmy an I got a lot worse. He was angry that my apartment was a two bedroom, and he had to sleep on the sofa because I turned the other bedroom into the baby's room. 

He was angry because I stopped giving him money and would no longer allow him to drive my car. He was also angry because I refused to beg my parents or my sister to contact Dylan. 

"He has to be over it by now," he spat. "It's not like you're some fuckin' prize." 

"Maybe he's afraid to come back because the next time he kicks your ass, he might end up in jail," I said. "He probably has a great career, like a real man, and doesn't need to live off of a woman." 

He slapped me so hard my teeth rattled. "I am a real man," he spat. "And Dylan didn't kick my ass. He surprised me." 

I shook my head. "You guys fought twice," I laughed. "You never even got off a punch. The first time he laid you out with one punch. The second time he almost killed you. And he never even worked up a sweat. You went down as easily as those sluts you fu..." 

I woke up to find my next-door neighbor banging on the door and my baby screaming. I got up gingerly and opened the door and then staggered in to see about my baby. 

"Honey, sit down," said my neighbor Natasha. Tasha, as I called her, was a nurse at the same hospital I worked at. She was an older black woman who was built like a four by four; four feet tall and four feet wide. She had the kindest heart of anyone, I knew except for Dylan. She waddled into the room and picked Pattigail up from her crib. She was still rocking her when the next knock on the door came. 

It was the police. Another of my neighbors called them. As usual, I didn't file a report, and the officers just shook their heads thinking I was another stupid woman who enjoyed being beaten. Even though I hadn't filed a report they had noted another in a long series of domestic calls at my address. I just didn't want to be seen as a victim. 

My father came the next day and tried to get me to move back home with him and my mom. I told them that I would be alright, and that I needed to grow up and do some things on my own. 

"I swear to God, the next time he lays a hand on you. I'm going to have Dylan come over here and kick his ass," said my dad. 

"Dylan moved back here?" I croaked in surprise. 

"No, Honey," he said. "But I needed some money to give him, and I pulled it out of my retirement fund instead of getting a loan. So he came here to meet with my banker." 

"So Dylan is no better than Jimmy," I sneered. "He likes taking other people's money too. I thought he had a great job and all of that stuff going for him. Fuck them both." 

"Gretchen, I never thought of you as stupid before," he said. "I always thought that maybe you had made bad decisions. I had to beg Dylan to give him the money. He's finally opening his automotive shop. I'm doing it as an investment. I think he's going to make a lot of money. His dad and even Jimmy's dad are going into it with us. Jimmy's dad is going to work with him part time. Believe it or not Dylan is going to continue working at the plant until he has so much business that he can't do both. He's a very enterprising young man. Maybe the reason he seems to be so successful is that he has nothing in his life except work. He doesn't have time to watch TV, drink, sleep, and beat on women." 

For the first time that I could remember, my dad turned and walked out of my apartment without hugging or kissing me. He was really disappointed in me. Even I have no idea why I said what I'd said about Dylan being the same type of freeloader I was living with. I think that I was just down on everyone because my life was shitty. 

I worked my ass off all day long for much less than I thought I was worth. My health care insurance for myself and the baby and all the other things I needed like formula, diapers, wipes, baby food, toys meant that I was always behind in my bills. I just never caught up. Every time I caught a break, or got a few hours of overtime, something broke in my apartment that I had to pay for. If my parents hadn't been helping me out, I would have been homeless. My mother provided free daycare. My father slipped me money every time he saw me. Jimmy did nothing. 

The only thing that cheered me up, my only shred of daylight at the end of a dark nightmarish tunnel was hearing occasionally that Dylan wasn't seeing anyone. I knew that he still loved me, and I hoarded that bit of information like a fat girl trapped in an elevator hoards the donuts in her purse. 

I busted my ass every day and came home to be a punching bag every night. I just knew that every time Jimmy hit me, Dylan would give him back. I merely needed to be patient. I knew that Dylan would come back for me, and I knew if he... Or when he heard what Jimmy had done to me, he would hurt Jimmy. 

* * * * * *

Dylan 

"Sarah," I gushed. As I watched she moved slowly towards me. Her unusual Honey-Blond hair glittered as I watched her. It had been over six years since I had seen her. More than seventy two months, more than two hundred and eighty eight weeks, more than two thousand and sixteen days, or... Before I could continue calculating her arm reared back, and she slapped the cowboy shit out of me. 

Everyone in the restaurant stared at us. The impact of her open hand knocked me back in my chair. She yanked my chair away from the table and then straddled me. She kissed the reddened area of my cheek where she had slapped me and then moved her lips across my face. When our mouths met it was like magic, and a hush settled over the room. 

Our arms raised and began to caress each other. Everything around us ceased to exist... Until a voice rang out beside us. 

"I guess he ain't gonna order anything, huh? He's just going to sit there and suck on your face? We'll have him leave me a tip anyway, since this is one of my tables," she said. It was the woman who had waved me towards this table. 

Her pretty caramel colored skin seemed to glow in the sunlight streaming through the window blinds. Her outlandish blue lipstick contrasted with her skin wildly. She was pretty enough to pull it off though. She was one of those women who were pretty enough and had a sparkly enough personality to pull off almost anything. If Sarah hadn't been there, she would've had a chance. 

"Not that I want you to stop kissing me," I said. "But why'd you slap me?" 

"I don't know," she said. "Why'd it take you six years to find me?" 

"Well, you didn't leave me any clues, and you didn't seem to want me to find you," I said. "And if you wanted me to find you why did you leave in the first place?" 

"Dylan, I needed you to get rid two hundred and fifty pounds of useless fat if we were going to have even the ghost of a chance," she smirked. I was confused. 

"I never weighed close to two fifty," I said. 

"I know," she smirked. "But Jimmy did. Dylan, everything between us started out wrong. Jimmy met me first. However, you and I were so much more alike. Did you know that Jimmy didn't convince me or tell me to sleep with you?" I looked at her.  

"I know what you remember... Or what you think you remember," she said. "But Jimmy never had any kind of control over me. The reason why I slept with you was because of the things you said. You said that you wanted your first time to be with someone special... Someone you loved. That was exactly what I wanted. Jimmy and I fucked a few times, but once you, and I made love; he never touched me again. I always told him that I wasn't in the mood. But I wanted so badly for you to be." 




Cryin' in the Rain: Conclusion



"But you were J..." I began.

"Not from the first time that you and I were together," she said. "Why do you think that I came to see you when I had to leave and not him? Did he ever let you read the note I left for him?"

"No," I said. "He just laughed about it." 

"Since we were in college, I wrote it at his level," she said. "I wanted to be very clear. It was written or scrawled in blue crayon. It said. Wee R done. C' ya."

I laughed at that. 

"You, on the other hand, I told in person, and we spent the most wonderful evening of my life together," she smiled as she said this and started kissing me again. 

"Get a room," said the blue lipped beauty again from behind us. 

Then I noticed a shadow pass over us and stay there. I looked up to see a man with an olive skin complexion and very dark hair looking at us. 

Sarah paused and turned to him. 

"We're running out of hamburger again," he said. "I told you we needed to buy more." 

"It wasn't on sale then," she said. "It is now. Send one of the boys to get more." 

"What I do is an art," he spat. "You can't taint perfection for a few pennies." 

"Okay," she said and she kissed me again. "Next time beef isn't on sale; I'll take those few pennies out of your check. He walked away cursing in some language I didn't recognize. 

Sarah went back to kissing me. The piano had begun playing Boogie Woogie music again, and no one was paying us any attention. "Who was that guy?" I asked between kisses. 

"Don't worry about him," she said. Her breasts were rubbing against me softly while she kissed me as if her life depended on it. "He's only my husband." 

I jumped up so quickly that it catapulted her from my lap and sent her sprawling to the floor. 

"Dylan," she said. "Don't worry about it. It doesn't matter!" 

"You're married!" I yelled. I turned and headed toward the door. "I have to get the fuck out of here." 

"Door," she yelled. And suddenly at least four huge truckers were blocking the door. The music stopped again, and everyone was watching us once more. 

She walked to me slowly. And when she got to me, she reached into my pocket and took my phone out. She punched in a number and listened to hear it ring. A phone in her pocket started to ring, and she turned mine off. 

"Dylan, it's really not what you think," she said. "When you get done with whatever you were supposed to do today, call me, so we can talk about it. We have six years to talk about. However, I'm leaving it up to you. You now have my number. If you don't want to call me... don't." 

She turned to the truckers. "Thanks guys. You can let him go." 

Then she reached up and kissed me again. "I will kick myself forever if I don't do that," she said. Then she went back to the counter where she'd been, when I came in. 

I turned back and started to walk out the door. This time a tiny blue lipped woman stood between me and the door. She had one hand on her hip and the other pointed a finger in my face. 

"Dylan, you're supposed to be one of the good guys," she said. "I've been hearing about you every time she gets drunk, for years. You'd better not break her heart again. If you do, I'll track you down and make you sooooo sorry you were ever born." Then she too disappeared into the raucous crowd. 

My car is really special to me. It started out as an average 2014 Mustang GT. I added a Roush body kit to make it more aerodynamic. I also added blacked out lights all around it. I blacked out the rims. I added a carbon-fiber splitter and carbon-fiber heat extractors to the hood. I designed and added custom-made side scoops that use ram air to cool the over-sized Brembo brakes I added to the car. I also increased the size of the cross drilled and slotted rotors. Then I went to work on the engine. I swapped out all the original Ford parts for forged aftermarket parts. I added a huge ball bearing supercharger and intercooler. 

I got the best paint shop in town to do my paint. It's a beautiful, glossy, slate gray with black accents. My car is one of a kind. There are still a lot of things I can do to improve her, but then there always will be. Every time I see my car, I smile. However, that morning as I walked over to her after leaving that crazy little cafe, I could have been getting into a Honda for all I noticed. 

I was on time for my meeting, but only because speed limits don't mean much to me. I was barely conscious during the tour of the facility or the lunch they provided for me. I didn't eat very much even though I was starving. Strangely enough my disinterest worked out well for me. I got a far better price than I expected, simply because they were under the impression that I wasn't happy with what they had to offer. 

All day long, I'd tried to concentrate on business, but in the back of my mind, I wrestled with my problem. Sarah loved me. All this time I had never gotten over her, only to find out that she had feelings for me too. Me, not Jimmy. I should never have let her go. However, in both of our cases, life had moved on. 

The thing that bothered me most was that Sarah, in her own way, had to be as bad as Jimmy. She had sat there in that little cafe, kissing me as if there was no tomorrow. And all the time, she was married. What kind of whore had she turned out to be? And me... If I began any sort of relationship with her, didn't it make me equally bad. And finally, even though I had cast Gretchen out of my life and was trying my damnedest to get her out of my heart, legally. I was married too. It was one fucked-up situation. 

I didn't care a bit about how this would affect Gretchen. By now, she was probably dying to get divorced from me, so she could marry Jimmy. The real thing to me was how this would affect Sarah's husband. What if they had kids?

I was almost back to my car when my phone rang. I looked at the screen and didn't recognize the number. I had to be very careful taking calls from numbers I didn't recognize. I was sure that one of them would one day be Jimmy or Gretchen. 

"Dylan, why haven't you called me back yet?" she asked. 

"I thought you were letting me decided whether or not I was going to call?" I smiled. 

"I just said that so you'd think you had a choice," she said. "I let you get away once, this time Jimmy, and I will have to fight over you. Can I please explain things to you? Rokaj and I are married, but that's it."

"You mean you guys have some sort of open marriage?" I asked.

"Our marriage is so open that you could drive a train through it," she said. "Our marriage is as open as all outdoors." Then as if she's just thought about what she'd said and how it make her seem she gasped. 

"No, Dylan... It isn't like that," she said. "Can I please just...?"

"Give me a half-hour to get back to you, and we'll talk," I said. Her joy that I was on the way, came all the way through the phone. 

It took less than a half hour. As soon as I pulled in front of the cafe, Sarah came out. She had a large basket with her as if she was expecting to go on a picnic. The six years had been kind to her. Not only were her eyes just as beautiful, her boobs were bigger. Sarah didn't seem like the type to go the augmentation route. And the new sashay in her hips wasn't lost on me either. 

As soon as she settled into the thick leather of the seat next to me, she turned and kissed me. My scruples melted with the touch of her lips. I started the car and drove to where she directed me. We ended up on the dry side of a small secluded cove. There were a couple of small boats tied up there, but no people. 

We got out of the car and sat upon the bank. She took my hand and turned to face me. She quickly leaned over and kissed me. 

"I needed that for strength," she said. And then she launched into her story. 

"Dylan, let me start from the beginning," she said. "Jimmy was my first boyfriend after high school. I was a year younger than you guys. You were both nineteen; I was eighteen. Jimmy had that gift of gab, and he was my first. He and I had done it a few times and then something special happened. 

I met you. Dylan, Jimmy was my first boyfriend after high school, but you were my first and so far only love. Jimmy fucked me, but what you and I did was something completely different. You were gentle, and you touched me as if I was something very special to you. I craved that. 

I could have left Jimmy or broke off with him weeks before I did. I'd heard from friends that he was cheating on me and experimenting. He was screwing some of the sleaziest girls on campus. Some of them were strippers working their way through school, like all the clichés. Others were hooking their way through school, and some of them were just plain skanks. 

The only reason I didn't break up with him was because I couldn't lose you. Jimmy thought that he had you to keep me busy. The reality was that I put up with him, so I could spend time with you. When we studied, I found ways to touch you. I always stayed much longer than I needed to be there. I rubbed myself against you hoping that we would..." Her sigh brought back memories. 

"I was sure that there was simply no way for me to get you away from him," she continued. "But I knew... I knew that we both felt the same way about each other. So when my uncle called and told me that my mom had been in a car wreck, and my dad needed me, I left. I was sure that I could find you, or you would find me. It just took you too long. 

And during the meantime, life happened. My mom never recovered, and dad passed a short time afterwards. Meanwhile my uncle who was even older than my dad, needed help running the cafe. A couple of years ago, he had a heart attack and now the place and its cast of weird characters are all mine. 

Rokaj, my "HUSBAND," is another story. He's the best cook I have ever met. He was originally from Pacmanistan and over here on a work visa. When his visa expired before he could become a citizen I had a problem. So I married him, so he could stay in the country. Our original agreement was that after he got his actual citizenship or stayed long enough for us to get a divorce, we would go our separate ways. That date came and went, and we just never went through the process of getting a divorce. He did get his citizenship though, and I guess having him around is good because he chases the guys off. You should know that our marriage is in name only. We have "NEVER," slept together." 

From the look in her eyes when she told me that, I was sure that she was telling the truth. 

She settled into my arms then, giving out a sigh of contentment. It touched me that my acceptance meant so much to her. The problem was that I wasn't nearly so sure she'd still feel that way once I told her my own tale of woe. 

"So Dylan, my husband is no problem for us," she said. "What about YOURS? Is Jimmy still lurking about somewhere?" 

I told her my version of what had happened since we last saw each other. I held nothing back. I told her how long it had taken me to get over her. I told her about my meeting Gretchen and eventual marriage and the way it ended. I told her about me beating the hell out of Jimmy, which she loved hearing. Finally, I told her about moving across the country and my large blended family and how thankful I was for their support. 

And when I was done, she had nothing but a huge smile on her face. 

"Why are you smiling?" I asked her. 

"What else should I be doing?" she asked. "Your ass is finally mine. Nothing will ever change that again. No demented lunatic brothers, no ex wives with bad-boy complexes and low self-esteem. We are finally together." 

And we were, from that moment on; C4 wouldn't have been powerful enough to blow us apart. We took our time getting back into the bedroom, but it was worth waiting for. Our pace seemed quick to everyone around us but glacial to us. For instance, it was nearly three months from the first time I walked into the cafe, before Sarah moved into OUR house with me. However, we'd both been ready for it the first night. 

My relationship with Sarah was on a completely different level than things with Greta had ever been. My marriage to Gretchen had been based on the fact that I loved her with all of my heart and soul, and she let me. Sarah matched every bit of my love for her and returned it to me in kind. 

A big event in our relationship was actually begun by Jimmy's dad, the second of my three father figures. On one of our holidays, with the family all together, I was so busy working on other people's cars that he asked Sarah why she let me do it. 

She told him that I loved it so much that she supported it whole heartedly. He told her that I ought to do it for a living then. A week later, I had a business plan and had begun looking for locations. I did my research to determine how much startup capital I'd need. It was a few weeks later with the family all together yet again that Sarah told Jimmy's dad that I was acting on his idea. She was beaming with pride as she told them what I'd done so far. 

After dinner, Jimmy's dad pulled me into my office for a talk. Before he got started, my dad had come into the room too, with Bernie, Gretchen's dad right behind him. Between the money the three of them offered me and my own savings and a loan from my retirement plan; I had the money I needed for startup costs without going through a bank. 

Although none of them wanted it, I wanted to pay them interest on the money, they loaned me. That way, I would have my dream, and I wouldn't jeopardize their retirement getting it. We were all pretty happy about the arrangement. 

Life moved on and by the end of our first year together, I was simply unable to imagine life without Sarah in it. My business was doing well, and I had given up my job at the plant. I had three specialists working with me and was even considering doing emergency repairs on big rigs since I was getting so many of Sarah's trucker friends as customers. 

The best part for me though was that I had been paying off my dads at a rapid rate. I had decided that their investment and faith in me should have been worth more than just repayment and a bit of interest. I decided to give each of them ten percent of the business. That way, they would always have money coming in. They deserved it. 

The day I decided to do it, Bernie had been flying in for the weekend. He got there a bit later than I had expected but only by an hour or so. Bernie always rented a car and drove himself out to the house. 

I was in the office when Sarah came to get me. "Honey, Bernie is here. I think you should come downstairs," she said. 

I hopped down the stairs and saw Bernie. He was as pale as a sheet. 

"Hey Bernie, I was just writing you a check, and I have some papers for you to sign," I said. 

"Dylan..." His voice broke. 

"Bernie, what's wrong?" I asked. "Is Patty okay?" 

"She's fine and so is our Abby and Patrick," he said. Patrick was Abby's fiancé and the love of her life. 

"I have to fly right back home on the next plane," he said. "I know you don't want to hear about her, but it's Gretchen. Jimmy beat the shit out of her... Again. And this time he put her in the hospital!" 

* * * * * *

Gretchen

It felt like one of those bathroom tissue commercials. You know the ones where everything is full of clouds and other cushiony things. There are angels and other floaty things around too. And everyone says things like bathroom tissue instead of calling it toilet paper like real people do. I think everything is floaty, and cushy, and nice to keep people from remembering that all of that wonderful soft cushy stuff is used to wipe your ass after you...

Suddenly, the clouds began to part and my mouth tasted like the stuff you use bathroom tissue to get rid of. My head was throbbing, and my entire face felt like one huge bruise. 

My mouth didn't want to respond to my mental commands. There seemed to be some sort of lag between when I thought about speaking and when the words actually came out. 

"Where's my baby," I croaked. Apparently, my ears still worked. Because her words came out perfectly clear. 

"Here she is," said my mother. I could feel the undertone of concern in her voice. I tried to open my eyes and only one of them budged. The other seemed to be glued down. I saw as if through a haze the concern on my mother's face. And as if I was telepathic or had picked up some sort of psychic abilities from being beaten like a fucking drum, I knew what that look on her face meant. 

Of course, her new Sarah Palin glasses and her stylish up do told me that I was right. My mother had either been about to go and visit my husband, yes I still had the right to call him that, or had just returned from doing so. 

"This would never have happened to you if you were still with Dylan," I knew for a fact that was her exact thought at that moment. Didn't she think I knew that? 

Didn't she think I had cursed myself for a fool every day since he walked out on me? Why did everyone seem to need to point out the obvious as if I was too stupid to know it? 

Fuck! I went to college. I'm not stupid. I just have a blind spot when it comes to a certain type of man. But I am cured. I swear to God. Oh Lordy come help me, I will never look at another man who has so much as an attitude problem ever again. 

What I wish the most is if instead of thinking I'm stupid, or that I don't see the forest for the trees; people would just realize that we are all different. And that at any time any person regardless of their level of intelligence can fall prey to their own personal weakness. 

Fat girls can't resist cake. Rich women can't resist ugly, expensive shoes, and I'll bet that Dylan has a garage full of Mustangs right now. I fell for Jimmy's bullshit again, and it cost me. I am the one paying for my mistake, so I wish that all the well-meaning people in my family would stop pointing it out to me. 

This past year has been awful. It's been nothing but hell. Jimmy and I locked in mutual hatred for each other, both hoping that the one person who can set us both free of our relative purgatories would return. 

He blames me. I blame him, and we hate each other more each day. The two things we argue over the most are of course Dylan and our daughter. 

Over the time that we've been together... You can't actually call us together. He doesn't even try to have sex with me when he's drunk. And I would bite his dick off if he ever stuck it anywhere near me. Anyway over the past year, the facts have become confused for poor Jimmy. The asshole actually blames me for betraying Dylan. He now claims that it was I who seduced him into what we did. He places all of the blame for what happened on me. It was me alone who betrayed Dylan. 

"You tricked me," he'd screamed at me. "I should just leave and go find Dylan." 

"I wish you would," I replied, "Especially the leaving part." 

"As soon as you get your parents to tell us where he is, I will," he said. 

"You could ask your own," I said. "But then you haven't spoken to them in years. Why is that? Are you afraid to see the disappointment on their faces?" 

"Maybe I should ask that hot little sister of yours," he smirked. "Now that is a real woman. She has that hot little ass. Of course, I might have to fuck her to get me to tell me where he is. It's funny isn't it? Your own sister going and staying in Dylan's house all the time. I'll bet the two of them do a lot of fucking. Hey, your sister will be the third chick that both of us have had." He laughed. Then I laughed even louder.

He looked at me wondering what I was laughing about. 

"You're almost right," I laughed. "My sister does go there a lot. And she did try to throw herself at Dylan. She told me all about it. He flat out turned her down. She thinks he had two reasons for it. Number one he loves her like she's his own little sister, and he didn't want to ruin things between them with a mistake like that. And number two, she's sure he still loves me." I laughed again. 




Cryin' in the Rain



I walked around the block of dorm buildings. Jimmy knew that I lacked his confidence with women. I just didn't understand how my best friend could have embarrassed me that way. 

As I walked I waved at several team mates, class mates and others that I knew. After a while, I felt better. When I returned to our building, I noticed that the beat-up car that Jimmy and I shared was gone. I figured that meant that he had taken Sarah back to her dorm. He and I were going to have a talk when he got back. 

I walked into our dorm and took off my jacket. I grabbed a bottle of soda and sat down in front of my laptop. I figured I'd play a few rooms of the video game I was working on. Just as I got comfortable, I heard a voice from behind me that shocked the shit out of me. 

"So, Dylan, do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked. I was too shocked to answer. She was lying in my bed under my sheets. "Dylan, let's talk about this," she said. 

"Dylan, do you know why I want to do this?" she asked. I shook my head. "First it's a good way to teach Jimmy a lesson without hurting him too badly. Second, I get back at him without having to be a slut about it. I know that you're a gentleman and aren't going to go around bragging or telling anyone about it. However, the real reason is because of what you said." She picked that moment to sit up. I saw her boobs for the first time. They weren't big. And one of them was bigger than the other. But they were the first real tits I had even seen in person. 

"Do you remember the part about how your first time should be with someone special, someone you're in love with? Don't laugh but that's the way I felt about it too. And Jimmy was wrong. That special girl would be, if she is as special as you want her to be, perfectly willing to teach you what you need to do. However, since you haven't found her yet, I would love to stand in for her. I would consider it an honor and a privilege to be your first." 

And then she pulled me in for a very gentle kiss. I don't remember when my clothes came off, but I remember her gasp when she got me naked. She seemed to love my dick as she played with it. That ended up being my first blowjob. And then she taught me how to return the favor. She showed me what she liked, and she seemed to get a lot of pleasure out of it. 

We spent a lot of time exploring each other's bodies. We were rubbing each other and rolling over and over and then; I felt it. Somehow she had worked us into a position with her on top of me. She impaled herself on me and sank slowly down on my dick. It was the best feeling I have ever had. That first penetration made us both suck in huge gasps. 

"Dylan, you have to go slowly, Honey," she squeaked. 

"I didn't... I'm not trying to hurt you," I said. 

"Dylan, you didn't do anything wrong," she said. "But you're a lot bigger than Jimmy. It feels really good, but I don't want you to tear me apart." 

She sank slowly down, moaning and shifting her hips all the way. It seemed to take a long time. I could feel her tight pussy gripping every inch of my dick as she descended. 

"Oh God!" she hissed. "Don't move!" Then she slowly started to pump her hips forward and back. The look on her face was bizarre. She looked as if she was in excruciating pain. Her hands turned into claws and dug into my hands. 

Her hips began to pump faster and harder. "Ooh, baby. Soooo good!" she said. "Dylan, I need you to flip me onto my back and take me. Instinct took over. I gently put her on her back. Her legs spread themselves apart, and she looked at me as if there was nothing in the world she wanted more than to have my dick back inside of her. 

I pushed inside of her and felt that tightness envelope me again. This time I was on top, and I started slowly to pump her myself. "Faster, Dylan," she hissed. She seemed like a different girl. Her hips moved up to meet mine. She pulled me down to kiss her, and our tongues swirled around each other's mouths. 

"Fuck me Dylan," she hissed. "Make me your woman." And I did we slammed together with such force and desperation that it seemed almost violent. 

"Oh, Shit, shit shit shit," she screamed. "I'm gonna... I'm there..." I had no idea what was going on. Were we done? After a few moments, she reached down and sucked my dick until I was done. She swallowed every drop. And then she wrapped her arms and her legs around me possessively. 

She looked straight into my eyes. "Dylan, when you get a little bit of practice, you're going to be amazing. That was the best sex I've ever had," she said. "I totally lost control. Don't tell Jimmy about the things I said, please. I don't want to hurt his feelings." 

I agreed and didn't say much. I was still reliving every second of what had just happened. She asked me if she could use our shower. And she looked at me weirdly. 

When she came out, I walked her back to her dorm. "Dylan, why aren't you saying anything?" she asked. 

"That was the most special thing that has ever happened to me in my life," I said. "I was trying to process it all. And I was thinking." 

She smiled. She really was beautiful. Her eyes had a glow to them that was hard to miss. "What were you thinking?" she asked. 

"That if you weren't Jimmy's girl... I... I love you too, Sarah," I said. 

"Honey, never say that again. I'm your best friend's girl friend. Someday he and I are going to get married. However, if I wasn't his... Boy oh boy!" she said. She looked at me strangely. "Dylan, are you crying?" 

"No," I said turning around. 

"This is so unfair," she said softly. She opened the door to her dorm and looked around. Her roommate was out. She pulled me inside and started kissing me. Before I knew it, we were in her bed and had started again. 

By the time I got back to the dorm, feeling extremely guilty and also confused, I expected Jimmy to be there waiting for me and angry. He wasn't. I showered and went to sleep, still dreaming of what I had done. 

Jimmy showed up at about two on the morning. He was smiling and woke me up. "How was it?" he asked. 

"I'm sorry," I said. 

"Please don't tell me you chickened out," he spat. "This is killing me. Why didn't you fuck her? Okay we'll do it again tomorrow. Do you want someone else?" 

"You knew...?" I said. 

"Of course," he said. "I arranged it, remember? Dylan, you and I are supposed to be the same. If I'm not a virgin, you can't be one either." 

"But Jimmy, she's your girlfriend and..." I began. 

"Bros before Hoes," he said. "No bitch will ever come between us." 

"But you're going to marry her and have kids with her," I said. 

"Says who?" he asked, looking at me like I was silly. 

"But you told her that today," I said. 

"I just said all of that shit because women like hearing it," he said. 

"So you don't love her?" I asked. 

"I love fucking her," he said. "Go to sleep. We'll talk more tomorrow." 

Over the next few weeks, things changed. I realized that I had fallen in love with Sarah. But in trying to be true to Jimmy, I avoided all contact with her. It didn't work for long. Jimmy started asking me to help her with her math and a couple of other subjects she was weak in. 

Since he had no interest in studying, he left the dorm to give us privacy. I did everything I could to make her comfortable. I made her dinner. I massaged her feet while she read. However, I stayed away from her. And she noticed it. 

Just before we went home for Christmas break, she came over. She waited for Jimmy to go out as he always did when we studied. 

"Dylan, you're the best guy I've ever known," she said. "I've already told you, but this is so unfair. I wish so badly that things were different." 

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

"Dylan, you treat me like a princess. You're kind. You're considerate. And you treat me like you really do love me. I've been trying to give you hints that I would like a rematch, but as much as you want me, you haven't even tried," she said. "I really wish you had, but..." 

"But you're Jimmy's girl," I said. 

"Jimmy has been cheating on me since we started," she said. "I guess I'm his safety net. When he has no one else to fuck, he stops by and uses me. He uses you to keep me busy while he's sowing his oats and... And you had no idea did you." 

I just stood there with my mouth open. "But why," I asked. She came around the table to me. 

"God, I wish I had met you first," she said. She was taking off her clothes as she walked towards me. We spent the entire evening and half of the night in my bed. We were both crying when she left. She left a note for Jimmy. I waited to confront him with it. 

"Great," said Jimmy when he read her note. "That saves me the trouble of a messy scene in trying to get rid of her." 

"You don't love her anymore?" I asked. 

"God damn it Dylan," he said. "Get with the program. I was tired of her as soon as I fucked her. Why do you think I've been leaving her here with you? You kept her busy for me while I..." 

That was when I learned one of the most important differences between Jimmy and I. To Jimmy only he and I were important. Jimmy had a new woman every week or two, and they all thought that they were the one he was going to marry. 

"Jimmy, she loved you," I said. 

"So fuckin' what," he smiled. "No one ever marries the first person they hook up with. She was a practice girl, dummy." 

"A what," I asked. 

"Dylan, you scored two touchdowns last week," he said. "We are headed for the NFL, with a bullet. If you weren't so busy wasting your time going to class, you would know that you can probably have any woman on this campus. One of the girls I'm screwing has the biggest softest boobs I've ever seen. Another one has an ass like a rap star's girlfriend. And both of them are prettier than Sarah." 

I had no idea how to tell him that I loved Sarah. It took me months to get over her. And all during that time, Jimmy was throwing girls at me. When he wasn't throwing them at me, I actually met a few on my own, or rather they met me. As our football careers rose, people actually began coming up and talking to me. 

I was still going to class and passing all of them. I was on pace to graduate right on time. Jimmy had gotten our coach to get him a deferred program. It was designed so he could carry a minimum class load in classes that were basically gimmes. Most of those classes were only one credit, with no tests and attendance as the only requirement for passing. Most of the time, he didn't attend but was given an excused absence because he was on the team. 

And that was the way our first two years went. Our third year was different. It was more difficult for me to keep my GPA up because the team was vying for a division championship and trying to line up for a good bowl game invitation. 

And it was during that third year that everything changed. For one thing, Jimmy was so sure that we were going into the NFL that he illegally signed with a sports agent. Under the rules, he was supposed to wait until he had declared himself eligible for the draft. Jimmy decided that having an agent help him plan out how to declare and when would be the best time to do it. 

An even bigger shock was that the guy thought he was representing me as well. It did not go over well when I explained to him that I had no intention of leaving school before I graduated. Jimmy told him that he would talk to me. 

It was one of our bigger arguments. Jimmy told me that football was a rough game. Every time we stepped onto the field, we risked a career-ending injury. We needed to get into the league and sign a fat contract as soon as possible. If we got hurt while in the league, our money was already set. If we got hurt while playing for our college team, we got nothing. 

One of the things the agent did was to clean up Jimmy's act. He told Jimmy that a big part of signing with a team was his image. Teams wanted a clean-cut image and were willing to pay more for it. His agent suggested that Jimmy get rid of all of the strippers and... Pretty much whores that he was juggling and get himself a nice girl to date. He could still have his big boobed bimbos on the side. 

As usual, I went along with the program. There really wasn't much for me to do. I had no image to clean up. Away from the football field, I was pretty much invisible. I was beginning to make a splash among the engineering students. My grades were consistently high, but none of the professors even submitted me for an internship, because it was assumed that I would be playing football. 

As a result of the agent's ideas, my life changed forever. It wasn't a thing that I was told to do; it was an indirect effect. One afternoon after practice, Jimmy went out and came home with Gretchen. 

With his usual tact and charm, Jimmy brought her into our dorm room and told her to sit. He said it the way he'd give a command to his dog. 

"Gretchen, sit," he said. Our dorm had a larger open central area, with two smaller bedrooms, one to each side. When I heard Jimmy come in I went out to speak to him and saw Gretchen for the first time. It was love at first sight; at least on my part. 

She was a taller girl at five foot eight. She had milky skin with freckles and the reddest hair I had ever seen. Her eyes were so bright a shade of blue that it appeared, they glowed. And her smile lit up the room.

Her hair, those lustrous scarlet curls, descended to her waist. 

"Hi," she said cheerfully. "I've seen you at the games."

I just stood there mute. I was too overwhelmed by her to utter a sound. 

"You guys look so much alike," she continued. "Are you guys twins?"

"Yes," cracked Jimmy, coming out of his room wearing a different shirt. "We just have different mothers, different fathers, and different last names."

She thought about it for a second and then started laughing. 

"You don't talk to much do you," she asked. 

"He's the shy type," spat Jimmy. "I keep trying to get him out of it."

"Ooooh, don't try too hard," she cooed. "I think it's cute. Maybe someday, I'll spend a lot of time trying to hook my friends up with my cute but shy brother."

Hearing those words from her lips was like a dagger to my heart. I'm sure my face changed somewhat, and she commented on it. 

"What was that look for?" she asked. "Don't you want me to marry your brother?" 

"I think he wants you for himself," quipped Jimmy smiling. "You're going to have to wait a while bro," he said. He winked at me, and I knew exactly what he meant. He turned to Gretchen and asked her, "How long will it take us to get your sister transferred here from her school?" 

It was exactly what I was afraid of. Gretchen as beautiful as she was would only be another Sarah to Jimmy. He had picked her simply because her clean cut, girl next door look would help his image and make it more likely for him to get a fat contract from teams who were becoming more and more afraid of loose cannon, football players. 

I still hadn't gotten over Sarah. I remember how hurt she was. I also remembered how much I loved her and how pointless it had all been. I had no intention of going through that all again. Jimmy set us for a double date. He arranged for one of Gretchen's friends to go with me. 

"I already have plans of my own," I said. 

"Ooh, do I know her," asked Jimmy. Gretchen just looked disappointed. I never made eye contact with her and tried my best to avoid her. If I didn't get to know her, if I didn't think of her as a person, her fall would haunt me less. I had to think of her as just another one of Jimmy's fucks. 

It was about a week later that I next saw her. I had just gotten into our dorm and was headed for the microwave and my computer when I heard a voice. "Why don't you like me?" she asked. 

"What are you...?" I began. 

"I asked you first so answer the question," she said. 

"What makes you think I don't like you?" I asked. 

"Hmm," she said. "I've spent more time in this dorm than you have over the last week or so. But you are never here. The night of our double date... You did have a date alright. Your date is still talking about it. She's sixty-three years old. She's the librarian at the engineering library. You brought her coffee and a carrot cupcake. She hasn't stopped talking about how nice you are since then. She even let you study past closing time." She was standing up and walking towards me. 

"Dylan, do you know that half of the girls in the school are gushing over what you did for that woman? I think everyone who ever goes into that library has seen the pictures of her and her husband with coffee and cupcakes, on her desk. I heard about it from Nedra Brown, one of my dorm mates." I didn't say anything. 

"You seem like a really great guy," she said. "I just want to know why you don't like me. Even Jimmy says you're acting weird when it comes to me." 

"I guess I'm going through something, and I'm just not good company, right now," I said. "I don't want to mess things up for you guys by depressing you while you're happy." 

At that moment, the door opened and Jimmy walked in. "Oh great you guys are talking," he said. 

"Yeah and I got to the bottom of things," she said. "Dylan doesn't dislike me. He's just going through something." 

Jimmy took one look at me and with a bond that was almost akin to what real twins feel; he shook his head. "God dammit, Dylan," he said. "You're still moping about Sarah aren't you?" In a movement that amazed me and made me even more sure of my theory. He told her. "Sarah, was... Well, she was Dylan's first. She just moved away suddenly. It hurt him pretty bad. She just left a note, and then she was gone. I really hoped that he'd gotten past it. I guess not." 

They decided just to give me time. 

Later on when Jimmy came back to the dorm, he was ready to talk. 

"What the hell is wrong with you Dylan," he asked. 

"I don't want to have anything to do that woman," I said. 

"Neither do I," he said. "She barely has anything you could call tits. Shit my chest is bigger than hers is after I do a set of heavy bench presses. And she has a white girl booty. I hate those fucking freckles. They just make her face look dirty. She looks like Rebecca from Sunnybrook farm. And she's so God Damned cheerful. She's also too damned clingy. As soon as I screwed her, she started talking about getting married. She's nuts. We just have to put up with her until we sign with a team." 

"I'm not having..." I began. 

"Yes you are," he said. "I'm already sick of her. Can you believe she doesn't do anal? I'm at the point where I would probably get more out of choking her to death than I do from fucking her. She never shuts up. She keeps asking me all of these moronic questions about where I want to live and how many kids I want. How the hell would I know?" 

He sat down and pounded his fist on the table. "Shit, we'll probably live in the city we play for. And I'm not having any kids until I'm fifty. I really need your help here, Dill." 

"Not gonna do it," I said in my best George Bush impression. "Can't."

"Dylan, yes you can," he said. "You like her. You know it. That's why I picked her. She's your type. All you have to do is keep her busy for me, just like you did with Sarah." 

"I can't do it Jimmy," I said. He just waved me off. As if he already knew I was going to do it.

"And we have to figure out which one of us is going in the first round," he said. "If we both go in the first round, we'll end up on different teams. I think it's more likely that you as a tight end will go first. So I need you to remember that when you start doing interviews with teams, you should mention me. Our agent is going to try to sell us as a package, too. It'll be just like it was in high school. And I need you to leave those fucking books alone, dude. You could be a much better player if you spent more time at the gym or even on the track." 




Cryin' in the Rain



"Jimmy, I'm going to stay in school and get my degree," I said. 

"And do what with it," he asked. "Stick it on the wall in your living room? You'll make sixty to a hundred grand a year as a grease monk... I mean engineer. If you sign for only one point six mill a year, you would make more per game than you would in a year as an engineer. And we're looking for a lot more than that. You can be an engineer after we retire." 

Two days later, our lives changed forever. I can still see that day in my mind. I remember being in the locker room with our coach and our team mates. I remember running out of the tunnel and seeing Gretchen on the sidelines. She stood up and kissed Jimmy as we passed by. The crowd went wild when she handed him his helmet. I thought it was so dramatic that it looked fake. But then Gretchen hugged me as Jimmy ran away from her. She was playing up the fact that the announcers were talking about Jimmy, and I growing up together and playing together for our entire lives. 

I had known nothing about the hug, but it floored me. I swear I felt a spark when she touched me. Even when we got the ball, I could still feel the touch of her hand on my skin. I could still smell her perfume and her shampoo. 

I was so busy thinking about Gretchen that it took my mind off of the game. That was actually a good thing. Our quarterback targeted me four times in the first quarter. I ran for two touchdowns in the first half and never dropped the ball once out of seven receptions. 

Instead of worrying about holding onto the ball, I was thinking about Gretchen. At halftime, we were ahead twenty-one to three. Our coach just told us to keep doing what we were doing. 

It was one word that fucked it all up. One very small word derailed the Dylan and Jimmy train that had been a lifetime in the making. 

Both teams, facing their in-state rivals were on edge. While we were jubilant, our opponents were frustrated. It was a down year for their program, and their pride was on the line. 

I don't even know how it started or what started it. But after a play during which I got another reception for fifteen yards, Jimmy called one of the other team's linemen, a fat bitch. A lot of trash talk goes on during a game from both sides. On the next play, as soon as the ball was snapped, that "fat bitch," who wasn't even lined up against Jimmy, dove at his knees. 

A lot has been said about the bond between twins. Jimmy and I are not twins, but we share that same bond. Days later when I was shown the game film, I didn't believe it myself. 

But when that three hundred plus pound lineman slammed into Jimmy's legs; I fell too. Perhaps it was a co-incidence. But I was almost thirty yards down field and facing the other direction trying to shake off a defender. I didn't trip over anything; I just hit the ground and grabbed hold of my own knees. The flash of pain going through me was so severe that they sent a trainer to check on me as well. 

Things got weird after that. The other team scored and with momentum shifting to their side, the coach told me I was fine and to shake it off and get back out there. He told me that was what Jimmy would want. I ignored him. I took off my helmet and told him I was going to the hospital with Jimmy. 

Our parents were on their way. I sat at the hospital with Gretchen. We sat in the waiting room holding hands and waiting to hear something. They got him stabilized. They did X-rays and CT scans of both knees. They had the top orthopedic surgeon at U of M medical center on the case. 

Our agent wanted to talk about the game and my first-half stats. "We can talk about it some other time," I said. 

"Look Jimmy's plan is different now," he said. "But this may work out in the end. It was going to be a tough sell, getting one team to take both of you in the same draft anyway. So if we get you a deal this year, and you do well. We can get your team to draft Jimmy next year if his injuries have healed." 

For all of our lives, Jimmy had been the aggressive one. He was the one who put feelings aside and spoke his mind, but that day I had been pushed too far. 

"Look Dickhead," I snapped. "You're Jimmy's agent, not mine. I am going to finish school and get my degree. I was only playing football because Jimmy wanted to. As of now all of that is up in the air. If you continue to pester me, I'll sign with someone else, if I actually end up playing again." 

He backed off instantly. 

The surgery went well. Jimmy was as cheerful as a character in one of those lifetime movies. He kept asking everyone when he could start his PT. His parents had decided to wait a few days before telling him. 

In our day and age with the advances in medical technology and surgical techniques, we tend to believe that anything can be fixed. Every day we hear about athletes who return to their sport after injuries that only a few years ago would have crippled them. 

Jimmy's right knee had an LCL tear. It was a tough recovery, but it was doable. His recovery and PT would take about six months, which means that he would be back early in the season the next year. One of the things the doctor was adamant that we understand was that sugary can perform near miracles, but surgeons aren't Gods. 

He could make Jimmy's right knee functional again. In time, it would be strong enough that he might, with a lot of work, play again. However, the knee would never be as good as it was before. He would also always have pain in that knee. 

It would probably be closer to a year and a half to two years before the knee was settled and fully functional enough that he didn't think about it every time he took a step. 

What no one wanted to tell Jimmy was that his left knee would never be the same. The left knee was the site of the original impact, and it had been completely destroyed. The only possible option that would allow Jimmy to have anywhere close to a normal quality of life was a full knee replacement. 

Jimmy, with a lot of PT would be able to walk again easily. In time, he would probably walk without a discernible limp. In fact, that fully replaced knee would actually heal faster than the ligament repair would. The problem was that Jimmy would never run again. His football career was over. 

He took it calmly when they told him. I was so proud of him, but I felt his pain and wished that I could share it with him. I wished that it had been me and told him so. 

The player on the other team was banned from college athletics. There was also talk of a criminal case against him. He was facing assault charges and a possible civil suit by the university and Jimmy's mom and dad. 

The day after the game he was found beaten unconscious. Most of the players on our team were questioned and released. After a few days, warrants were issued for some of the members of his own team. He was due to be arrested on the assault charges upon his release from the hospital. Unfortunately, he disappeared before he was released. 

Gretchen was there for Jimmy the whole time he was in the hospital. She and I were with him every step of the way as he tried to relearn to walk. One of the most painful things that we had to help him through was the mood swings and bouts of depression. 

Jimmy had to rethink his entire life and future. Most of the things that he had hoped for and planned on were simply impossible now. 

He glared at us and yelled at us and called us names. He ordered us out of his room, but we always came back the very next day as if nothing had happened. 

Returning to school the following September was an enlightening experience. With his inability to play football, Jimmy's scholarship was gone. The University offered Jimmy a position as an associate trainer. The position would have paid his tuition, books, and room and board, just as his scholarship had. It was a really generous offer, and a sign that the school hadn't abandoned him. 

Jimmy refused it of course, which meant that his parents had to foot the bill for his classes, books, and dorm fees. It was a foregone conclusion that I would quit the team since Jimmy couldn't play. In a way, it was a good thing. It gave me more time to study and made me eligible for an engineering internship. 

Gretchen and I tried our best to help Jimmy with his classes. It was rough for him taking freshman level classes while in his fourth year in college. Even worse was the fact that he was still not doing well. His attendance was also spotty at best. 

As it had been mentioned before, Jimmy and I had a bond. And within a few weeks, I felt a disturbance in the force. It took me a while to figure it out. I happened to watch Jimmy's reaction as one of the newer cheerleaders passed us as we walked home one day. Jimmy had his, "I fucked her," smile on his face. My heart went out to Gretchen, but I didn't say a word. I hoped that Jimmy would come to his senses and realize what a good thing he had going for him. 

It was late October and halfway through a rough semester when Jimmy had his meltdown. After all of his midterm exams were in, it was clear that Jimmy was struggling in almost all of his classes. Gretchen and I helped with his homework, but we couldn't take the exams for him. 

A couple of days later, I awoke to a huge argument with yelling and screaming between Jimmy and Gretchen. At the end of it, he kicked her out of our dorm and told her not to ever come back. They were done. 

I got up to drive her home. "Where are you going," screamed Jimmy. 

"Jimmy we can't let her walk. It's a cold night," I said. "And it's dark out there." 

"I don't care," he said. "It's not your problem anyway. Dylan, don't go all Sarah on me. We have things to do." 

Gretchen was in tears. I did my best to calm her down and soother her nerves. We stopped, and I bought her favorite coffee for her. "You know that he'll be back to normal, by tomorrow, right?" I said. "He's been through a lot." 

"There are two of you," she said. "Both of you are equally good looking. Why did I have to fall in love with the fucked up one? And now when I need him the most he flakes out on me." 

"He'll be fine. I'm sure of it," I said. 

"Dylan, what did he mean by don't go all Sarah on me?" she asked. I didn't answer her. 

As I drove back to our dorm, my intention was to have it out with Jimmy once and for all. It was time, past time actually to put my foot down. There was no way I could let Jimmy do to Gretchen, what he had done to Sarah. 

I ran what I would say to him over and over in my mind on my way back. I used a lot of words like honor and gratitude. I wanted also to remind him that both sets of our parents taught us to be responsible and to treat others the way we wanted to be treated. 

However, I was unprepared for what I would find when I walked into our dorm. Our suitcases and a lot of boxes were in the center of the living room. "Start packing, we're outta here as soon as the sun comes up," said Jimmy. "There's too much shit going on here. We need a break." 

That started the argument. For the first time throughout our lives, a disagreement nearly came to blows. We finally went to sleep, vowing to continue the discussion the next morning. 

I awoke the next morning to the sound of our beater driving away and a sense of emptiness that I had never felt before. I knew that Jimmy was gone. For a long time, I just sat in the dorm, not knowing what to do and unable to process being alone. 

The ringing phone snapped me out of it. 

"Hi Dylan. Has he calmed down," asked Gretchen? 

"Uhm, things are a bit different than they were last time we spoke," I said. 

"Well, that's a good thing," she said. "I woke up feeling really weird. I think I should go to the doctor." 

"I'll be right over," I said. I borrowed a car from one of my former team mates and drove to Gretchen's dorm. 

"Dylan, why are you here," she asked. "Where's Jimmy?" 

"Gretchen, Jimmy's gone. I don't know if he's coming back or not," I said. "But I'll stand-in for him until he gets back. You're always saying we're just alike so..."

She picked that moment to run out of the room to vomit into her toilet. I followed her into the bathroom and gathered up all of that beautiful red hair to make sure she didn't vomit all over it. 

"Flu huh?" I said. "Are you sure you'd rather go to the doctor instead of just letting me take care of you?" 

She turned and looked at me and smiled again. "I sure can pick em," she said. "Two guys and I had to pick the worthless one." She stroked my hair. 

"Honest, Gretchen, I've taken care of people with the flu lots of times," I said. "I can handle it." 

"Dylan, I don't have the flu," she said. "I'm pregnant. And something doesn't feel right. That's why I need to get to the doctor." 

I drove her to the campus clinic. We were referred to a specialist in female medicine, who referred us to the local hospital. We had both spent a lot of time there during Jimmy's injury. 

They were very concerned with her symptoms and ordered several tests, including an ultrasound. They gave her a prescription for prenatal vitamins and told her to get as much rest as she could. I took her back to her dorm and helped her gather some of her clothes and then put her in Jimmy's room. I figured that when he got back, they'd be together to talk. However, until then, I was going to take care of her. 

I think the hardest thing for me to do was telling our parents what had happened. I guess I took the easy way out in that. I just told them that Jimmy had gone off somewhere, and I had no idea where he had gone and how long he would be gone. I told them that he had become very depressed again once we'd gotten back to school. I guess I lead them to believe that it was still the loss of his football career that was driving him. 

Both sets of our parents were very understanding. Both sets of our parents asked me about how my classes were going and told me to keep them informed of what was going on and when he came back. They also both promised to let me know of he came home instead of coming back to school. They both also told me that they knew that staying in school would be hard for me, but I had to stay. 

The one good thing that came out of it was that both sets of parents realized that with Jimmy taking our car, I had no transportation, so both sets immediately wired money into my account, so I could buy another car. I ended up buying a used Mustang and was extremely happy with it. 

Every morning, I woke up early and made breakfast for Gretchen. I drove her to her classes and went to mine. Even though she hadn't begun to show yet, I treated her like a glass princess. Every day both of us expected Jimmy to show up. 

And everything between us was above board. I never tried to make any type of move on her. I did massage her feet every evening and her tummy too. I made sure she took her vitamins and ate healthy foods. I told her that I was only doing what Jimmy would have done if he'd been there. 

In my mind, everything was fine. I think that I was taking lemons and making lemonade. I was a real glass is half full type of guy. I saw only good outcomes on everything. The way I saw it, Jimmy could come back any day, and I would be glad to have him back. His loss in my life was the hardest thing I'd ever had to bear. 

On the other hand, the longer he was away, the more time I got to spend with Gretchen, and I was crazy about her. It was Sarah all over again. If Jimmy never came back, I would have been glad to spend the rest of my life with her. However, that bond of ours told me that Jimmy would be back. 

There were a few things working against us. One was that Gretchen, like Sarah was a very popular girl. She had a lot of friends on campus. And those friends often came by to talk to her. Some of them were telling her things that I didn't want her to know. 

I tried to steer her clear of anyone who had bad things to say about Jimmy, and I was partially successful in that regard, but she still started to question him. Some of those same people that I was trying to keep her away from had nothing but good things to say about me. "Gretchen, don't worry," they said. "He's gone and you ended up with the good one anyway." 

As much as I wanted her, I didn't want her at Jimmy's expense. And I truly believed that the best thing for their child would be for him or her to be raised by both parents. I could be a doting, and dedicated uncle, perhaps even Godfather. But the best possible scenario would be for Jimmy to come back. Even though that would leave me broken hearted again. I figured that I had gotten over Sarah over time, I could get over Gretchen as well. 

Things were going extremely well for us. We grew closer daily. Greta, as I called Gretchen for short was asking less, and less about Jimmy, and more about me. When we watch movies together, she had us sharing a blanket, and she put her legs across mine. Displays of affection like that did not escape the notice of her friends. I even heard her telling one of her friends that she really didn't care if Jimmy never came back. 

But then trains always seem to be running fine just before they go off the rails. And so it was with our crash. It was a Saturday morning. It was about four a.m. We had fallen asleep upon the sofa together, while watching one of Gretchen's favorite movies. 

I'm kind of a restless sleeper, and it was that fact that actually made things fare better than they could have been. During the night, as usual when we watched movies together, Gretchen had spread herself all over me. It was as if she was trying to lay claim to every square inch of me, but I didn't mind it at all. 

I felt moisture, and it awakened me. I got up thinking that perhaps she'd had an accident while asleep. One of the things the doctor told us might be a possibility with some women was a loss of bladder control. I figured I'd clean it up and let her sleep. However, when I turned on the lights, I discovered that it was blood, not urine. I didn't bother to dress. Or even grab a coat. I still had on the sweats that I wore around the house. I just panicked and ran for the car. 

During the drive, I did get Gretchen awake for a short time and realized that it was the dumbest possible thing that I could have done. As soon as she awoke, she screamed from the pain she was going through. While carrying her in the emergency entrance, I cut my feet several times on small pieces of leftover rock salt that had been put down to melt the ice from the most recent snowfall. 

I actually carried her up to the desk and started half screaming, half crying to get someone to take care of her immediately. Luckily, we were at that hospital frequently and several of the nurses on duty there remembered us both from Gretchen's visits and from our time there with Jimmy. 

After a couple of tense hours of me pacing on my cut-up feet, an extremely sorry doctor came out to tell me that Gretchen was stable. She was asleep, but she had lost our baby. I tried to explain to her that I wasn't the father but decided not to bother. It no longer mattered. 

She led me up to Gretchen's room and told me I should stay around a while and talk to her and hold her hand. She told me that even while asleep Gretchen would know that I was there, and it would give her strength. She also told me that Gretchen had asked for me while she was losing consciousness from the med's they gave her to put her under. 

It was stupid, but I had to know. "What's my name," I asked. "She asked for Jimmy, right?" The doctor looked at me crazily. 

"I have no idea who Jimmy is," she said. "Is it your nickname? She called you Dylan." I was the happiest man on earth. I sat there next to her bed holding her hand, without a care in the world. I knew that she would need time to recover, and I was ready to be there for her. Whatever she needed; I would move heaven and earth to get for her. Finally at about two in the afternoon, one of the student nurses that had just come on duty to relieve the early-morning shift came into the room. 




Cryin' in the Rain



Her name was Patti, and she was both a friend and a classmate of Gretchen's. 

"Dylan, have you been in here, holding her hand the whole time?" she asked. 

I just nodded through my sleepy eyes. 

"Dylan, she probably won't wake up for at least another two hours. Why don't you go home and get some clothes and some shoes? And let me take care of those cuts on your feet first," she said. "I swear; I'll call you if she wakes up before you get back." 

I nodded, but Gretchen was holding onto my hand in her sleep. "That is so cute," gushed Patti. She brought a tub of some sort with warm water in it and a pack off those alcohol wipes. She had also gone to the hospital's store of clothing and brought me back a pair of shoes that were a size or two too big. I dipped my feet in the warm water and tried not to yell when the rock salt caused them to burn. 

After prying my hands loose from Gretchen's I quickly drove back to my dorm, showered, put on fresh clothes and even grabbed a quick snack and my backpack with all of my books in it. 

I was feeling refreshed and better when I walked back into the hospital. I still had my buzz on from hearing that Gretchen had asked for me, not Jimmy when it happened. 

I had waved at the nurse on duty and opened Gretchen's door when a short, fat man came running out of the room and launched himself at me. He punched me in the chest and called me a son of a bitch. He had been trying to hit me in the face, apparently. However, the fact that I was moving and much taller than him had thrown his aim off. 

I reacted instantly. I had been hit much harder, and actually punched harder while on the football field. So his blow rolled off of my chest and I just bull rushed him, like I was throwing a block on the football field. Tight ends have to block for running backs pretty often, so I was good at it. 

Even though he outweighed me, I slammed him into a wall and took all of the fight out of him. I was standing over him, looking down at him, when the security guards separated us. He was still fuming and trying to get to me when they led us both away. 

After speaking to the nurses on duty and the witnesses in the area the security guards let me go. They had explained to me only that the crazy man was Gretchen's father. They told me that her family had flown in order to be with her, and that they had arrived while I was at home changing clothes. 

I was headed for the parking lot when I heard a voice behind me. 

"Hey! Dylan! Where are you going?" He yelled. I turned and found the same crazy man running up behind me. 

'Oh, shit,' I thought. ' we go again.' 

"Dylan, I need to talk to you. And Gret's asking for you," he said. "Sorry about what happened back there. You are one helluva kid." He just shook his head. 

"You know; I thought you were the other one," he said. "You two are a lot alike. I only met him once, it was after one of your games, and he still had his helmet on. You have to understand. Shit, if some guy had gotten your daughter pregnant and ran off on her like a fuckin' coward, you'd be pretty pissed off too, right?" I just nodded. 

"Well, the nurses and Gret told us most of it," he said. "Come on in. She wants to see you." 

He led me into the room, where I found Gretchen propped up on pillows in her bed. She shook her head as soon as she saw me. "My knight in shining armor," she said. "Do you even realize what you did?" 

"Uhm, hey, Hotstuff," said a voice from a chair near the window. "There are other people in the room." 

I turned and looked, to find two other women, sitting on chairs beside the window. One of them was an older version of Gretchen. She was a little thicker, with bigger breasts and wider hips from age and child-birth. But when you factored all of that in she was easily just as beautiful as Gretchen. I realized that I was looking at what Gretchen would look like in twenty or so years, and I was on board with it. 

The one who spoke was just slightly younger than Gretchen. She had those same luminous eyes and facial features, but her hair, while just as long, was straight instead of curly and blond instead of Gretchen's fiery red. 

"You looked really funny in that security video," she said. "You ran in here, carrying her, covered in blood, with no shoes on in the middle of friggin' winter. You look like a serial killer who had changed his mind." 

"Dill, other than the video they showed us, I have no idea what happened or how I got here," said Gretchen. "I remember we were watching the Princess Bride and then nothing." 

Her mother, father, and sister were all smiling. Obviously, they knew something I didn't. I later found out that the Princess Bride was Gretchen's favorite movie to re-watch when she was happy. She favored darker movies when she wasn't. 

"How'd you fall asleep during your movie," asked her mom. 

Gretchen pointed at me. "Whenever he gives me those foot massages, I just drift off. The next thing I remember, I was in the hospital, and I had lost my baby." Her voice sounded sad, but resigned. 

"Gret, I'm sorry that happened," said her mother. "But from what the doctors have told us, your pregnancy was problematic from the beginning. They've assured us that you two will be able to have healthy children in the future, when your lives are more stable, okay?" 

"But Mom, Dylan and I aren't like that," said Gretchen. "We've never had sex. We've never even kissed." It seemed like her father was about to say something when the door opened, and a nurse came in to check Gretchen's vitals and do some other things. She asked us to step out of the room while she did it and told us we could come back in about ten minutes. 

Gretchen's dad immediately cornered me. "When are you going to tell her," he asked. 

"Tell who what?" I asked. I looked into his wife's twinkling eyes. Her knowing smile warmed my heart. 

"When Bernie and I were younger; it took him years to tell me how he felt about me. I don't think he'd have ever said a word if the biggest douche bag in our town hadn't asked me out. I was going to say yes, just to make him get off of his ass, but he got so jealous that he stormed away from me, and I confronted him and made me tell me," said Gretchen's mom. 

"Gret, did the whole thing backwards," said her dad. "She started up dating the douche bag. So you have to rescue her. Well, ya already did. Now you have to follow up." 

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "We're..." 

He just started laughing. 

"Dylan, you aren't fooling anyone," he said. "As soon as you walked into that room the rest of us ceased to exist. And even I have to admit, seeing you in that video running into the hospital with no shoes on, covered in blood was incredible. You left your car running and the doors wide open. That is exactly what a father wants to see from a guy with his little girl. Nothing in the world matters more to you than her." 

"And maybe you think that she doesn't feel that way about you," said his wife. "But that nurse Patti told me that Gret didn't ask for Jimmy when she was being put to sleep. She said "Dylan." And she told me that she had to pry her fingers loose from your hand so you could go home and change. Just give her some time. My daughter is no dummy. She knows what's good for her." 

"No she doesn't," said Gretchen's sister. "Gret has always had a thing for bad boys." 

"Yeah and look where it got her," said her father. 

They stayed for about a week. Gretchen decided that she wanted to stay at school instead of going home. It was her senior year too, and she wanted her degree. 

While she was in the hospital, I went to her teachers every day and got her assignments and the handouts they have for her classes. She e-mailed them with questions about things she didn't understand, and they answered her the same way. 

Before they returned home, her mother and father exchanged phone numbers with me and made me promise to stay in touch. Her father especially wanted to be notified the second that Jimmy showed up, if ever. 

If our lives had been a movie, Greta and I would have looked at each other, declared our love, and lived happily ever after. However, real life isn't like a movie. Things don't always work out. 

Gretchen spent over a month in a very severe depression, she had to go into counseling. There were days when she never said a word to me at all. I cooked for her, took her everywhere she wanted to go, and kept the dorm clean. It was painful for me for us to be so close together and yet so far apart. 

Her parents visited us a few times, and even they were baffled. Her therapist finally explained things to them and to me. Gretchen was emotionally and physically dependent on me. She needed to have me in her life to take care of her. But at the same time, she hated me because I reminded her so much of Jimmy. On another level, she resented me because even though I reminded her of Jimmy, I wasn't him and a part of her wanted him back. To that part of her mind, it should have been Jimmy doing all of the things for her that I did, but it wasn't; it was only me. 

Her sister told me that I should get out. "My sister isn't the only woman on the planet," she said. "She's just the only woman in your heart. Maybe you should give someone else a chance." 

"Abby are you trying to steal your own sister's boyfriend," asked her mom. 

"Mom, she treats him like a thing," said Abby. "He deserves better." 

In the end, it wasn't the therapist, time, or anything I did that brought her out of it. It was her friends, mostly. Several of them came to visit her or ran into her during the months after she got out of the hospital. 

They told her about Jimmy. Greta had never known how Jimmy really felt about her, or that he had been cheating on her since they first started. A couple of women who were dating guys on the team even explained to her why he had begun dating her. Someone even told her to ask me about Sarah. 

So one Friday evening on our way home from our last class. Gretchen asked me if I had any plans for that evening. She had never asked me anything like that before, and I got really nervous. 

"We should stop off on our way and pick up some food," she said. "We need to talk and I think it's going to be a long one." 

I was sure it was going to be the end of us. Greta arranged the two big chairs in the living room, so they were facing each other instead of the TV. 

"Tell me everything," she said. "Don't leave anything out. Don't try to save my feelings. Tell me your entire God Damned life story. And I already know more than you think so don't lie to me." 

So that was what I did, pretty much. 

"So you and Jimmy lied to me about Sarah," she said. 

"Not exactly," I said. "We told you the truth. We just told it in a way that didn't paint Jimmy in a bad light." 

"Don't you ever fucking lie to me again," she said. "If we're going to be together, you have to put me first. Even over Jimmy." I nodded, but I'm not sure I felt it. 

"So Sarah was Jimmy's girlfriend, but he made her have sex with you because HE decided that it was time for you to lose your virginity?" she asked. "What an asshole!" 

"And you loved her didn't you?" I nodded. 

"So why didn't you tell her how you felt?" she asked. 

"I think she knew at the end," I said. "But she knew that I would never go against Jimmy over a girl, and she WAS Jimmy's girl." 

"So you figured that she was better off with a guy who cheated on her and didn't really give a half a damn about her than she was with a guy who loved her?" she asked. I shrugged my shoulders.

"So, what about me?" she asked. "Why were you avoiding me when Jimmy and I first met?" 

"Because I couldn't go through it again," I said, on the verge of tears. "I just figured that if I didn't know you... If you hadn't become a person to me. It wouldn't be as painful." 

"Why would it be painful for you?" she asked and she was smiling. 

"How, did Jimmy really feel about me?" she asked before I could answer. 

"He... He lov..." I stuttered. Her eyebrow arched, and her eyes narrowed. 

"He's just out of it from..." I began again. 

"He didn't give a half a damn about me," she spat. "I spoke to some of the guys who used to play football with you two," she said. 

"My tits were too small, I don't have a Kardashian booty, and he hated my freckles. He was going to dump me the second he signed his contract. He wasn't depressed. I told him that I was pregnant, and he ran out on me, the very next day. He was too much of a coward even to stay long enough to find out if I wanted to have the baby," she hissed. "I thought I told you not to fucking lie to me. I told you that you had to make a choice, Dylan and I meant it." 

Her tone and her expression softened, then. "But you already made your choice; a long time ago didn't you?" she asked. "I felt something the first time we met. Dylan, you loved me from the first second you set eyes on me didn't you?" 

"I... Uhm... I... Jimmy just nee..." I stuttered. 

She brought her face very close to mine. From the second our eyes locked, I was frozen in place. "Dylan are my tits too small?" she asked. I shook my head. 

"Dylan, say it," she gushed. "My mother already told me, my father told me. Most of my friends told me. Shit even my sister told me. But I need to hear it from you, too. So say it." 

"I love you Greta," I said. "I love you more than air. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. I love everything about you, all five and a half feet of you, from that beautiful red hair to your tiny little feet. I love your freckles and the way your nose crinkles up when you smile. Your boobs are perfect. Your butt is perfect. Everything about you is perfect to me and..."

Her mouth planted itself on mine, and it was the sweetest nicest most passionate kiss I had ever felt. 

"Dylan, I'm no longer Jimmy's girl," she said. "Never call me that anymore. From now on, there is no Jimmy. I'm yours. Jimmy has nothing to do with us." We spent a lot of time on the sofa that evening. We cuddled, and we kissed a lot. But that was it. It was a few days later that we finally made love, and it was spectacular for both of us.

It was also ironic that both of us had only been with one other person. Jimmy had been her first and Sarah, mine. However, that was when the fairy tale finally started. Gretchen's roommate got a new roommate and Gretchen, and I lived together in my dorm. The building was Co-ed so the arrangement really wasn't that unusual. The school's administrators understood everything about Greta's miscarriage and how instrumental I had been in her recovery. Besides that, there really wasn't much time left in the semester anyway. So nothing was said about our living arrangements. 

After graduation, I was hired by the company I did my internship with. And Greta with her degree in hospital administration was hired to do medical billing in the same hospital she was treated at. We got married only two months after we graduated. It only took that long because we had to wait for Greta, her mom, my mom, and her sister to plan out the wedding. A big surprise was that Jimmy's mom helped out as well. Greta took a while warming up to Jimmy's parents, but they are great people who have always loved me. They loved Greta too. 

We bought a small starter home, and both sets of parents visited us frequently. It just seemed to me that every morning I woke up and Greta was more beautiful. Our lives couldn't have been better.

Our work schedules were similar, and we always took our vacation time together. There were a lot of places we wanted to go. We usually split our vacation time between visiting one family or another and traveling. Our plan was to spend a few years building our finances before we bought a bigger house and started having kids. 

I hadn't wanted to mention it. I was happy just having Greta. It was she who brought it up. Even after almost five years together, I didn't mention it. I didn't want to bring up bad memories. 

I was, bringing her breakfast in bed one Saturday morning, when she brought it up. "Dill, I'm twenty six," she said. 

"I know that, silly," I said. "But you're the one who asks for sprinkles on her pancakes." 

"And you give them to me, right?" she smiled.

"Of course," I said. "I try to give you everything you want. Your father would kill me if I didn't."

"My father is sure that the sun shines out of your ass, Dylan," she said. "But what if I wanted you to forget about the sprinkles and do something else?" 

"All you have to do is ask," I said. 

"Okay, look in my top dresser drawer," she began. I crossed the room and opened it. "Take my birth control pills out of the drawer," she said. I picked up the flat packet and prepared to open it for her. 

"Don't open it," she said. "Just throw them away."

I looked at her in surprise. "Are you sure?" I asked. She just nodded. 

"I'm doing it for you," she said. "I don't want you to be married to an old woman by the time our kids graduate from high school. Besides think about how much bigger my tits will be after you knock me up two or three times. Don't think I haven't seen you checking out my mom's butt and her rack. I'm gonna give you something to play with to keep you from leaving me for her." 

"I'd never leave you for anyone," I said. 

"I'll bet you think you're telling me something I don't know," she said pulling me down for a kiss. "It'll take a month or so for the pills to work themselves out of my system," she told me. "But we may as well start practicing now."

I was the happiest man on the planet for the next three days. It was a fucking Tuesday that all of the air began leaking from my fantasy. 

We had been fucking like bunnies every night, and as I drove my brand new, blacked out Mustang GT down the streets of our subdivision, it hit me. The feeling was so strong it almost hurt. 

Gret looked angry when I walked into the house. She didn't leap into my lap and smother me with kisses the way she usually did. As she tried to figure out how to tell me, I blurted it out. 

"Jimmy is back, right?" I said. She just nodded. "He called today just after I got home from work. He wants to come by and see us. I know that you want to see him. But I think you should call him and take him out to a bar or something. I don't ever want to set eyes on that bastard." 

I just nodded. I called his parents to tell them what had happened. For some reason, he hadn't called them. I also called Gret's dad Bernie as I had promised. 

"Kick his fuckin' ass in," he told me. "Don't even bother. Tell the bastard to have a nice day and then change all of your phone numbers." 

As usual, I did what Gretchen wanted. I called Jimmy, and we met at a bar. The five years that we had been apart meant nothing. As soon as we saw each other our bond was back. 

During the time apart, I don't think I changed much. I still run every day, so my weight hadn't varied by more than a few pounds. However, Jimmy looked a lot different. His clothes were shabby and had an odor to them. He had a full beard and had put on a lot of weight. 

He also walked with a decided limp. "The leg with the prosthetic has aged differently than the repaired one," he said. 

"Bullshit," I told him. "You're just out of shape. Lose some of that gut and you'll be dancing in no time." 

We hugged and had a few rounds of beers and talked about everything under the sun except for the elephant in the room. 

"Did you keep track of Gretchen after I left?" he asked finally. I realized that the message on our voicemail was the phone company's generic message. It didn't mention our names. He had no idea that we were together. 

"Kind of," I said. His eyes flashed to mine. With our bond, he knew everything within seconds of looking at me. 




Cryin' in the Rain



"Holy shit," he laughed. "Just like the other one. What was her name? Sarah?" 

He kept laughing. "What a softie," he said. "Did you take care of her until after she had my kid, or just until her family found out?" He laughed again. 

"What did I have anyway?" he asked. 

"Nothing," I said. "She lost the baby early in the pregnancy." 

"Oh that's good," he said. "So there's no one coming after me for child support." 

"So when was the last time you saw her?" he asked. 

"About an hour ago. When I left the house," I said. "I married her." He really started laughing after that. I just stared at him. I suddenly realized that I didn't like Jimmy. Our time apart had changed us. I was an adult suddenly. I had opinions of my own, and I was no longer likely to go along with anything he wanted. 

"Why the hell would you tie yourself down to one woman," he laughed. "Especially one woman with no tits." 

"So are you ready yet," he asked.

"Ready for what," I asked. 

"Our plan," he said. "Remember we were going to have our own business? We were going to modify cars. You were going to handle the engineering part, and I'd handle the business?" He smiled at me.

"Please don't tell me that you got so involved with my sloppy seconds that you didn't get your degree?" he asked.

"Of course, course I got my degree," I said. 

"Well did you already start our business," he asked. 

"No, Jimmy," I said. "I have a great job with a major automotive manufacturer." 

"So in other words you didn't have the balls to go it alone, without me?" he asked. "Please tell me that you at least started saving some money?" 

"Well yeah," I said. "But Greta and I..." He held his hand up for me to stop. 

"Don't start telling me about what some woman wants," he quipped. "This isn't about pussy. This is about our lives and what we've always wanted." 

For the rest of the night, I just listened to him and thought about what a loser he was. At about ten o' clock I just told him that I would pay the check, and then I had to get out of there. 

"Well I was hoping to crash at your place," he said. "The place I'm at right now won't be available for much longer." 

"Let me run it by Gretchen and see what she says," I told him. 

"Why?" he asked. "I can get her to do anything I want. Shit, I had her convinced to do a threesome with the two of us. But you were acting so squirrelly about her at first. I really thought that you hated her. Does she still have all of that fucked up red hair? And those hideous freckles? If you're making decent money, I hope you got her a boob job." 

"Gretchen is perfect, just the way she is," I said. "I love her Jimmy. There isn't a prettier woman on the planet." We were starting to get louder, and I was seriously thinking about busting Jimmy in his face, but he calmed down. 

"Look dude, you're my brother," he said. "So if you're happy being married to some CHUD, it's fine by me. But don't expect me to want to look at her. And when I start bringing some prime pussy around, you're gonna be sorry. Go home and... Hey when you can't sleep do ya try to count those freckles?" 

"I'll give you a call," I said. Knowing that I had no intention of doing so. I left then. What I didn't know at the time was that Jimmy had as usual already made plans. And he knew far more about my life than I had expected. 

Another thing that I didn't know was that someone sitting near us had not only heard us but had realized who we were. 

I got home to find Gretchen waiting for me. When I told her about Jimmy wanting to crash with us, she looked at me as if I was crazy and said, "Hell no!" 

We went to sleep after a particularly intense session of sex. I was sure that Gretchen was trying to make sure that I was on her side and not Jimmy's. 

After a few promotions at work, I was making very good money. So good, in fact, that Gretchen had cut back on her hours. She had the next day off and told me that she was going to make all of my favorites for dinner. 

"My favorite is what you gave me last night," I said. 

"Burgers and fries," she asked. 

"No, what you gave me when I came home from the bar," I smirked. "I want that every night." 

"Okay," she said. She lifted her night gown and rubbed her own panty covered vagina. "It'll be hot and waiting for you as soon as you hit the door."

Even after being together for five years, I was still crazy about Gretchen. I thought I was the luckiest man on earth. So all day at work, all I could think about was Gretchen on her back, with all of that red hair spread out behind her like an angel's wings and me thrusting into the treasure between her legs. I got home as quickly as my Mustang would carry me. I opened the door to find Gretchen in the kitchen cooking something and Jimmy lying on my sofa watching TV. 

"Hey bro," he said when I came in. "Surprise. I told you she would let me stay."

Maybe it was our bond. Maybe it was the fact that Gretchen hadn't said a word and couldn't meet my gaze. Maybe it was the little smirk on Jimmy's face, but I knew that he had fucked her. And from the way he was acting, getting her to break our marriage vows hadn't been much of a challenge. 

"Get the fuck out of my house," I said sharply. 

"What?" he asked. "She said I could stay." 

"Forget it," I said. 

I went past him up the stairs. "Dylan... I..." began Gretchen. 

My gaze withered her. She stopped talking and realized then now badly I was hurt and how badly she had fucked up. "But he said..." she began again. By that time, I was already at the top of the stairs. 

"Give him some time, he'll be fine," said Jimmy.

I packed as many clothes as I could into a couple of suitcases. I grabbed my laptop and my iPad and headed back down the stairs. 

"Dill, I need to borrow the car so... Where are you going," he asked. 

"Away from the two of you," I said. "Don't call me. I'll have someone call you when I'm ready to pick up more of my things." 

"Dude we need to talk. This was just a misunderstanding," he said. "Since when don't we share everything? Remember Sarah?" he said. I dropped my suitcases and turned to him. 

"Yeah, I do," I said. I stepped over to him and punched him in the mouth as hard as I could. Then I picked up my suitcases and with Gretchen screaming behind me, I left. 

I checked into one of the nicer motels near the airport and the plant, I was working out of. My phone began ringing almost immediately. I didn't answer any calls from Gretchen's cell phone or the house phone.

Just after ten, I was watching TV when my phone rang again. I looked at the screen and answered it. 

"What the fuck is going on," screamed Bernie. "I called to find out how badly you kicked that bastard's ass, and he answered the phone at your house. Then I get my daughter, who I trusted to your care crying hysterically because you left over some misunderstanding."

"No Bernie, she's the one who misunderstood things," I said. "She misunderstood that when we got married, she was supposed to stop fucking other guys." 

"She didn't," he said. 

"After five years of marriage, she still fucked him as soon as she saw him," I said. "Just a few days ago we were talking about giving you guys some grand kids and now I'm trying to find a lawyer." 

"You don't need a lawyer to get rid of him," he said. "Just go home, kick his ass, and throw him out." 

"I need the lawyer for the divorce," I said. "I loved her from the first time I ever saw her, but I guess she just settled for me when Jimmy..." 

"When Jimmy got her pregnant and ran out on her," he spat. "I'm taking the first plane there tomorrow morning." Then he hung up. 

The next morning at work, my secretary told me to call Gretchen as soon as I walked into my office. I told her not to take any calls from Gretchen, and if she took them not to tell me about them.

My boss, the director of engineering, had offered me a transfer to Florida recently. I had turned it down, because it was too far away from Michigan, where I grew up and went to school. It was also far away from Chicago and Gretchen's family. 

As soon as he came in I asked him if the transfer was still available. He was going to be working in that plant himself and wanted to take some familiar faces with him. He told me that once I signed the papers, I couldn't change my mind. I pulled out a pen and signed them on the spot. 

He told me the company would give me a relocation allowance and another sign on bonus. I had to be ready to go in a little over two weeks. I took the rest of the day off to find a lawyer. 

As I headed for my car in the parking lot, I noticed both Gretchen and Jimmy standing by it. I got a couple of our security guys to make them leave the lot, so I could get out. 

While I was sitting in the lawyer's outer office, waiting for my appointment, Bernie called me. He wanted to meet me, so we could talk. I told him I would call him as soon as I left the lawyer's office. 

The appointment took longer than I thought. The lawyer was a woman, and she wanted to know all of the details about the case and our history. She told me that since I had no proof of infidelity other than my feelings, I should just go for a no-fault divorce. 

I wouldn't need a reason or any proof. Since we had only been married for a few years, we could split everything down the middle and walk away. I could keep my car and my pension; she could keep hers. I might have to pay her a small amount of support until she could get on her feet again, but maybe not. We would have to sell the house and split whatever we got from our equity in it. 

She told me that she'd be ready to have the papers served the following day. I went to the bank and withdrew some cash to tide me over. I also went to HR at work and switched the direct deposit of my next few checks into a new account that I set up. 

Getting the cash was important because even though I wasn't going to stop working, all of our accounts were probably about to be frozen. The new account in my name only, wouldn't be frozen with the joint finances. 

Later that evening, I met Bernie at the same bar, I'd spoken to Jimmy at, two nights before. 

"Dylan, you have to talk to her," he said. "She's distraught." 

"Yeah, I'll bet," I said. 

"She said it was all a mistake, and that he tricked her," he said. 

"How," I asked. "Did he pull a rabbit out of his ass? And it somehow made her fall into bed with him. We were married Bernie. She was the one who made me promise that if it came to it, I would pick her over him." 

"Can you just listen to her?" he asked. "She's going to call you at 10. Take the call." 

I went back to my motel. At 10 sharp, my phone rang. 

"What," I said angrily?

"Dill, when are you coming home," she asked. 

"Whenever you aren't there," I said. She started crying. 

"It was a mistake," she said. 

"No, Gret," I said. "It was balance. I never would have met anyone as special as you without Jimmy. You were his girl from the beginning. We only happened because he left. Now he's back to get you. I'll be out of your hair soon anyway." 

"Dylan you don't get any of this," she said. "What do you mean you'll be out of my hair?" 

"I've accepted a transfer to a plant in a different state," I said. "As soon as the divorce papers are signed and filed, I'm gone." 

I heard the phone clatter to the floor and Gretchen crying in the background. I chose that moment to hang up. The sound of her crying always hurt me. 

* * * * * *

Gretchen

"What did he say," asked Jimmy. "Let me guess. He wants to talk, right? I told you he'd come around. 

"No," I told him. "He doesn't want to talk, Jimmy." I started crying then. I wondered how I had gotten myself into this mess. From the very first moment, I had seen Jimmy, years ago in college; I had fallen for him. I knew that he was not the kind of person I should be with, but there was just something about him. 

I could remember how exciting it was being around him. Just his physical strength alone was enough to make him dangerous. And there was something else about him. He seemed to intimidate people around him, just by his dominant personality. That was exciting too. 

But the thing I liked about him the most was something strange. For most of my life, men have always found me pretty. I'd gotten used to guys going gaga over me or doing stupid things to impress me. But Jimmy acted as if I was nothing special.

From the very beginning, it was me jumping through hoops to try to gain HIS favor, not the other way around. 

Before I knew what was going on, we were in a relationship. And I liked it. Both Jimmy and his brother Dylan were going into the NFL. They were going to be rich and famous. And I was going along for the ride. 

The one fly in the ointment was the fact that Dylan hated me, or so I thought. This was a big problem because almost every word out of Jimmy's mouth was either about football or Dylan. I knew that if Dylan, really didn't like me, I was history. 

The funny thing about it was that when I told most of my friends about it, they laughed at me. They told me I had everything backwards. Dylan is a really good guy, they told me. They also hoped that Jimmy would change his spots for me, but he had a history of cheating on every woman he'd been with. 

I was sure that I could change him. I was willing to try anything. Jimmy even told me that I might have to do a threesome with him and Dylan. It wasn't something I wanted, but I was willing to do it for him. 

It never happened. The strangest thing to me was the fact that soon after Jimmy, and I got together our sex life waned. The first few weeks he wanted me every time we went out, and he got me. But after that it was as if he'd gotten bored with me. 

After Jimmy's injury, things got weird. It was as if I was a member of his family. Even Dylan who'd gone to extreme lengths to avoid me came around. I began to realize that my friends were right about Dylan. He was a really nice guy. The problem was that I just wasn't really into nice guys. 

Jimmy and I made plans for what we would do after he recovered from his injuries. We figured that he would have to wait a year to go into the NFL. It would take at least that long for his injuries to heal. 

Then we found out that Jimmy would never play football again. Everything changed overnight. What amazed me the most was Dylan. Dylan took charge. Where Jimmy had always been the decisive one, Dylan switched roles with him. 

In a move that was the greatest act of loyalty, I have ever seen, Dylan announced to their parents that he and Jimmy were going back to their first plan. They were giving up football and in a few years after they graduated, they would open their own business. Dylan simply walked away from football because Jimmy couldn't play anymore. He never looked back. 

They figured out that there was no way that Jimmy was going to graduate. While Dylan had been majoring in Engineering, Jimmy had majored in football. He had almost no credits to show for almost four years of college. The plan was that Dylan, and I would help Jimmy with his school work. 

It was a good time for Jimmy and me also. Our sex life picked up, and we made all kinds of plans for our life together. 

I was so excited when I found out that I was pregnant. I rushed right over to his dorm to tell him. We got into the biggest argument ever. He claimed that the baby wasn't his, and that I had trapped him. He broke up with me and told me to get out of their dorm. He even got angry at Dylan for getting out of bed to drive me back to my dorm. 

Dylan kept telling me that Jimmy would calm down and be fine the next day, and I believed him. After that night though I never saw Jimmy again until two days ago when he showed up at our house. 

I guess over the years I told myself that I loved Dylan. And in a way I did. Dylan was a wonderful husband, and he loved me so much I could feel his love like little waves of warmth and protectiveness. 

However, Jimmy was so exciting. He made me feel like I was on a great adventure. Dylan asked me what I wanted to do, and we did it. Jimmy told me what to do, and I did it. He was the one in control. I think it was comforting. It was almost like being a child again. 

And there were other differences between them. Dylan seemed to have everything going for him. He had a job and a career, and he had pretty much mapped out our future. There were no surprises left. With Jimmy, the future was an open book. I had no idea what lay around the next corner, let alone years down the road. 

Dylan always seemed to get lost in my eyes. He'd start out trying to tell me something, and I could smile at him, and he would lose his train of thought. I don't think Jimmy could tell you what color my eyes were, but he could talk me into doing anything he wanted. 

That was how we got to where we are right now. I had the feeling that I had made a huge mistake, but I was stuck with it. Jimmy, hadn't started out trying to run our marriage. Jimmy hadn't even come back for me. He'd come back for Dylan. 

For the last few years, his life had been hell. He had bounced from one woman to the next with almost nothing to call his own. He was completely dependent upon the woman he was living with for everything, and he was ready to build something. The thing he kept remembering more than anything else was their plan to start their own business. 

That was something that Jimmy could do. With Dylan's engineering skills and Jimmy's people skills, they would be successful. They could make it work. But more than anything else, Jimmy missed Dylan. 

Growing up they shared everything equally. I knew that was true. When I first met them, they were sharing a car and most of the things in their dorm seemed to belong to both of them. They never fought over anything, and I just couldn't understand that. Jimmy explained it to me. 

He was flat out frank about it. He had no reason to lie. To the two of them and everyone who knew them, they were brothers. They were as close as any twins could be and closer than most. Growing up nothing came between them. They didn't argue because there was nothing as important to them than each other. Anything that tried to come between them was simply discarded. 

Jimmy gave me two examples that hit home with me. The first was football. I knew about that. No one around us had even batted an eyelash about the fact that Dylan had simply walked away from the NFL and all of that money when Jimmy couldn't play anymore. 

The second example was even worse. It was Sarah. I had heard Dylan's version of the Sarah story, but Jimmy filled in all of the things that Dylan hadn't shared. He also explained to me why Dylan hadn't told me the truth. The truth would have made Jimmy look bad. And I knew from personal experience that Dylan would never do or say anything that cast a bad light on Jimmy. There was that loyalty again.

Anyway, Dylan and Jimmy, away from home for the first time had settled in and got accustomed to the environment. Dylan had quickly gotten used to his classes and set up a study schedule. Jimmy had started out making friends and meeting people. 

By the second week of school, Dylan was going around making sure Jimmy knew where his classes were and making sure he had books, and Jimmy was introducing him to people. 

Three months later, Jimmy had met and claimed Sarah and had started having sex with her. He'd kind of used Sarah as a device to practice and develop his sexual skills and had grown bored with her. Sarah taught Jimmy a lot, not about sex, because she, like he had been a virgin when they met. But she taught him what he liked about women and what he didn't like. She taught him that no single woman would ever be enough for Jimmy. 

Jimmy preferred slim but curvy women on his arm, but more voluptuous women in his bed. He couldn't be seen with the women he fucked, because image was everything to Jimmy. Jimmy fully believed that fat girls were like MOPEDs, they're a lot of fun to ride, but you wouldn't want your friends to see you on one.