72 comments/ 29289 views/ 46 favorites Never a Lie By: EastPubnico Joey Ferguson shrugged the black suit jacket over his shoulders and smoothed it into place. He was conflicted, as he'd been for days. Artemisia, known to all as Artie since babyhood, his wife of fifteen years, had died at last two days ago and today was the funeral. Joey was half glad she was gone, free of the awful pain and suffering and weakness, freed of the consequences of that awful disclosure ten days ago, too. He was half grieved, as well, saddened by the loss of their time together, the love, the laughter, the shared tears, the loyalty and sharing, the comfort and joy. Only the fact that they'd never been able to have children had left a hole in their lives, but really it had been fine with just each other. The doctors had promised Artie three weeks ago that the new drug ought to finally kill off the invading cells that were slowly eliminating her ability to go on. At the very least, they vowed, she would have another two years of life. Joey hadn't been sure Artie had wanted another two years of life in a hospital bed, but the prospect of getting better, of being cured, free of pain for the first time in a year and a half, made her agree. He'd supported her in that decision, prepared to do anything rather than lose her. The doctors had gone through the mumbo jumbo about possible side effects and problems, but neither he nor Artie had paid attention. The possibility of a cure dazzled them both. And now the drug had killed her. Joey didn't know if that was bad or good. He didn't know whether Artie had considered the risk worth it, or had embraced death with fervour. He just didn't know. His mind went back to that awful day just eight days back, six days before Artie slid out of this world and into the next. She'd kept her senses to the end but he'd known she worried about losing them at the end. Joey wondered whether keeping a clear mind had been good or bad. She wouldn't let the doctors numb her mind with pain killers. It had been a fairly grim day, overcast and cold, just above freezing, just like today, in fact. An appropriate day for a funeral. Something had died in Joey eight days ago, too. Artie looked pale and wan in the hospital bed, completely divested of the vitality that had made her so beautiful all the years he'd known her. She wore a towel or something wrapped around her head, turban-like, to hide the fact she'd lost her hair. Artie's hair had been her pride and joy, a long fall of auburn beauty that swung everywhere with a natural wave. She was pretty enough as a girl and still was attractive, even beautiful. Joey was happy she had that much left. By now it was clear that the new drug, expensive as it had been, wasn't going to work. It wasn't that clear yet that the drug was going to kill her, but Artie was sure she was going to die sometime soon. She'd never told him she felt that way before. The two of them reminisced about the old days, school days and after, as they usually did. The last year and a half hadn't left any good memories for them to enjoy together. "Joey, do you remember when we first met," Artie whispered. The cancer had spread to her throat now. The musical tones of her speaking voice were in the past. "When I was a cheerleader and you were a nerd with the social skills of a skunk?" "Not nice, Artie," he laughed gently, "but true. In those days you were always on Lyle Kennedy's arm, a fixture, almost like a bracelet. I wasn't on anybody's arm." "You always had Karen Lovett's attention, I think." "Yes, I suppose you're right. Karen always had time for me. She's the one who got me to clean up and pay attention. I suppose she gave me what social skills I developed. You owe her, I think." "I've told her so, Joey." Her weak voice wandered a moment, then started up again more strongly. "Do you think life has patterns, Joey?" "Sometimes." "I was a lot more experienced than you were. I'd been sexually active since the day before my sixteenth birthday. I've got to admit it wasn't much fun. I had my eighteenth birthday in the summer before we started college. That's when I first met you and Karen. You were both a couple of months younger than I was." "Karen and I shared a birthday. I bet you didn't know that." "No, I didn't. I always wondered why you were so close. You didn't seem to be much worth having in those days, Joey. Not the way you are now, so attractive and successful." "I suppose not. You were going with Lyle, then. I don't think you paid attention to any of the other guys." "Not really. Lyle was the ideal beau for any of the girls. He was attractive and a successful athlete. No one knew, or would believe, that he didn't know the first thing about making a girl happy. Or care. I hope he's changed but I'm afraid he hasn't." "You were talking about how we got together, sweetheart." "Yes, it was strange. A sordid tale of revenge gone wrong, or maybe right. Seems strange that it took so long for me to clue in about Lyle. We were in fourth year and Lyle was making noises about getting married. Then I guess a white knight came to save me. "Lyle and I had had a huge fight. The cause doesn't seem important now, but then it burned into me. He'd been seeing someone else. As far as I know he was screwing her blind. It came out when we were going at it and he compared me with her. It stopped me cold." "Knowing Lyle, I'm surprised he didn't suggest that he take the two of you on together so he could make close comparisons." "He did. That's what we really fought over. He wanted to do two girls at a time and I was just disgusted by the notion. He ran off to his little whore and I looked around for the best revenge I could get. It happened to be you." They'd gone over the story before, though Artie had never told Joey about the projected threesome. Joey was upset about that, then remembered they were talking about something that had happened more than fifteen years before. Artie had never been as adventurous as she sometimes pretended, which had suited him fine. Going out with the nerd was effective revenge on the pretty boy. Joey remembered, too, as Artie continued to whisper. The day Artie first approached him he was wandering the halls, likely waiting for Karen to finish class so they could hang out together. Karen went out with other guys and never with Joey, but she wasn't too attached to anyone and the two of them spent a lot of time just being with each other. They were pretty good friends. That's when Artie came up to Joey and asked whether he'd take her to the dance the following Friday. "But Artie, what about Lyle? You're with him, aren't you?" "Not any more. I'm sick of him and sick of jocks. I need to see another kind of man." "I was jealous of whatever you and Karen had, Joey," Artie whispered as Joey's mind returned from the past. "I wanted to see whether I could have the same thing. I wanted to find out what was different about someone like you. I never meant to come between you and Karen." "No, I suppose you didn't. You've always been pretty good about things like that, much better than most women would have been." "I had confidence in your love, dear." It took a while for Artie to convince Joey that she really wanted to be with him for a time. Joey was happy enough. He wasn't actually going out with Karen and Artie was one of the hottest girls in the college. She hadn't had any trouble making the cheerleading squad. She'd been runner-up to the Homecoming Queen. She was real quality. He'd have gone out with her if only for the bragging rights. Besides, he didn't much like Lyle and there was a little something extra that he was going to go out with Lyle's girl. On top of the physical side that would have had his male friends drowning in drool, Artie was a genuinely nice person. Possibly she was a little more self-centred than Karen, who was plenty attractive herself, but that left a lot of room for thinking about others, and she did. She made it very clear that the others she thought of weren't just Joey and the football team. He was impressed. Artie wasn't a shallow person the way he'd always regarded cheerleaders and jocks. Friday night he borrowed a friend's car and picked Artie up at her dorm. The residence administration was fairly liberal. There wasn't any curfew on weekends, for example. There'd been a big dustup about different rules for females and the college had lost. It was a cool night so Artie had a sweater on over her blouse and a pair of dress slacks. She'd pulled her hair back and toned down her prettiness a bit, enough so she wasn't spectacular, just pretty nice. Joey realized that she'd done it to fit better with him. There wasn't too much fit between the two of them in those days, but she did what she could with it. She was genuinely concerned to put him at ease as much as possible. They had a wonderful time at the dance. Artie wanted to dance every dance with him. He managed to keep up, and even get ahead on occasion. Joey had more rhythm than a geek should, so dancing wasn't too much of a burden for either of them. Artie told him she was impressed. "I remember that you showed another side of yourself when we danced," Artie whispered from the bed. "You showed joy. That always impressed me. You held me just right when we came to a slow dance, too. Not so tight that it felt like we were screwing each other on the floor, the way Lyle always did, but tight enough to show you realized you were with someone you liked and whose physical attributes you appreciated. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling." "I have a warm fuzzy feeling for you all the time, Artie," he replied. She looked warmly at him for a moment before getting back to her memories. After the dance Artie had insisted that they go up to the look off "to watch the submarine races". Joey wasn't so naive that he didn't know what that meant, but he was certainly surprised. Once they parked, at Artie's direction, she turned into his arms and kissed him, an open-mouthed passionate declaration. Of what, exactly, Joey wasn't too sure. They broke for a moment and Joey moved in, sure now that Artie wanted at least some kind of attention. He kissed, slowly, his lips caressing hers, his tongue touching lightly her bottom lip and then the upper lip, treating her lips as erogenous zones of their own rather than pillows to base an oral assault on her mouth. Artie was taken aback. That's not how she had learned to kiss. It was different. It was better. After they kissed a few more times, more than Lyle had kissed her at all in the last month that they'd been together, Joey pulled her into his shoulder and began to describe the submarine races to her. He said he had a bet on an outsider. "That's Polaris coming up on the outside. It's making its move on the pack, now. Even with its handicap it has more power. Look at it go. There they are, almost to the finish, now. And it's Polaris, by a nose." They laughed gaily together. Joey kissed her quickly, little more than a peck to share their good humour. He pulled her into his shoulder and they watched the night. She wondered whether perhaps she didn't attract him. Lyle had her shirt and bra off in less than five minutes every time they parked. She loved the feel of his lips on her nipples. This business of being cuddled and looked on as a person rather than an attractively packaged set of female parts (insert Tab A in Slot B, push in and out a few times, sprinkle) felt different. Like the kissing, it was better. What else could be better, she asked herself. After a half hour of just being with each other, the most comfortable and relaxed time she'd had in a very long time, Joey kissed her again, a little more punch than a peck, but not too much. "Time to go, lovebird." Artie had nothing to say as they drove back. She was trying to put the new pieces into a place in her world and failing. They didn't come from her world. It was a different world. A better world. She almost missed it when he asked: "Do you want to go to a movie tomorrow?" "Okay. That sounds nice." "We'll have to walk. The car's not mine." "That will be all right." She wasn't prepared to challenge him by offering her car yet. "Six thirty for the seven o'clock show?" "Fine. I'll see you then." Though there were a couple of dark corners around the front of the residence Joey just gave her a quick peck on the cheek and drove off. "I was so disappointed you didn't go farther that first time we went out," Artie whispered, her voice a touch hoarser. "But I enjoyed what you did and I especially liked sharing your company. It was sweet, and I hadn't been used to sweet." "You always deserved sweet, love." On the Saturday Joey picked Artie up from the residence. Without a car, she thought it would be difficult to get physically closer to him. That's what dates were about in her mind. The walk to the theatre was fun. They held hands. She couldn't remember just holding hands with someone before. It was an attachment and a sharing of something other than lust. It was peaceful and exciting all at once. Artie was entranced. Joey had chosen the movie with some care. It might have been called a chick flick and might not. There was a hint of naughtiness but nothing overtly sexual. The two main characters were just having fun together most of the time. It was one of the few where the director had managed to maintain the level of plain happiness right up to the end. Artie was fascinated by the movie. She forgot all her intentions of snuggling into Joey and maybe getting his hands on her breasts. When Joey dropped her off at the dorm he gave her a quick peck. "Thank you, Joey," she told him. "I had a wonderful time. I never knew a date could be just a good time. You're really good company." "I enjoyed the time, too. May I see you again next Friday?" "Certainly, and you'd better not be late." She laughed to take the sting out of her words. Here she'd dumped one of the great male draws on campus, traded him in for a skinny nerd - well, Joey seemed to be bulking up a bit - and she was enjoying herself more than she ever had before. It was luminous and illuminating. She no longer attracted envious glares from half the women on campus. Maybe that didn't matter anymore. She was going out with an interesting guy who paid attention to what she wanted. That seemed to be more important than campus status. After they ran into each other on Wednesday, an accident Artie had spent some time contriving, they'd found a dark corner and had kissed properly for the first time. Joey had taken the lead. Artie hadn't known he read her so well. At first it was a light sharing of lips, soft brushes that sent flames spiralling around her insides. Their lips connected more fully, learning the shapes and feel of each other. Then Joey gently licked her bottom lip. She shuddered. He licked her upper lip. Her mouth opened. Very, very gently his tongue snuck in, oh so softly exploring, touching her tongue, the roof of her mouth, her cheeks, her tongue again. Artie let her tongue return his attentions, but slowly, teasingly, inflaming them both with the newness of shared care. "Our first real kiss, Joey, do you remember?" the voice whispered from the hospital bed. "That was when I knew I loved you, dearest." "I think it was the same for me, though it took me a few days to realize it. You were always a good kisser." That Friday, Joey and Artie were off to another movie. They enjoyed it as much as the one the previous week. "So what does Artie stand for?" Joey asked. "Artemisia," she blushed. "A beautiful name for a beautiful person," Joey commented. "You're named for the Greek goddess of the hunt. I've always preferred her as the epitome of beauty over her more worldly colleague, Aphrodite. " "That's sweet of you." When they returned from the movie, Artie invited him up to her room. "It's still early and I don't want to let you of you just yet. I have a single room this year. They don't do lights out or anything foolish and haven't for decades. Can we spend a little more time together?" "Sure." Artie was surprised that Joey had given in so easily. He'd resisted most of her blandishments so far. Perhaps he realized, with that sense he seemed to have about her, that, really, all she wanted was to have him to herself for a little bit longer. She enjoyed her time with him. When they got up to her room with the door closed Joey took the lead. He drew her to him and kissed her again, the way it had been two days before. She felt that she'd burst into flames. Joey bent his head to her and kissed her once more. Long, sweet, achingly ardent. Artie's skin was flushed, delicately rather than passionately, and her lips were ever so slightly swollen from the force of his kiss. He looked quickly. He liked what he saw. He pulled her in to him again, this time running his hands down her sides, feeling the bulge at the side of her breasts. Then down her back, ending by cupping the firm, delicate swell of her bottom. He pulled her into him, drawing her private parts into his swelling erection, flattening her breasts against his chest. She sighed. Her room was narrow, painted in an institutional green some contractor had a surplus of, years ago. Perhaps with the sun on it it might be attractive. The narrow bed took up one side and her study desk the other. He was surprised to see the bookshelf she'd added, full to overflowing. He hadn't thought of Artie as a reader. He approved. Artie met his gaze. They kissed again, flames leaping up to engulf them both. Joey gave himself over to the fire they shared. Artie followed. They shed their clothes. Some she took off him, some he took off her, some they took off themselves. The urge to be naked with each other dominated both minds. They shared kisses and caresses, her fingers sliding over his chest, his arms, his back, while he brushed over her back, her bottom, the tops of her thighs. Desire rose within them, passion flooded their beings. Heat dominated them. Each felt the other as a naked, burning flame. Heated skin to heated skin, their passion grew to an all-consuming need. Artie stepped free of her clothes, pooled at her feet, and gasped as Joey encircled her with his arms, warm, hot arms. They kissed again, his tongue no longer gentle, piercing her, consuming her, claiming her. Artie fought back, staking her claim on him as well, holding him, pulling him against her, feeling the force of his passion and desire for her as an elemental force not to be denied. She was dripping and ready for him, her lower lips as swollen as the ones he was kissing so fiercely. She grabbed one shoulder to hold him to her while she used the other to explore the striking heft of him, fingers tracing over his chest and abdomen, sliding lower. She dropped her lips to nurse lightly at his nipples. He gasped with the fire of his sensations. She lifted her mouth to his again and tasted the hunger and passion and desire ripping through him. And ripping through her as well. She pressed into him, bare breasts thrust into his chest, naked hips against his strong thighs, abdomen flattening his erection against his stomach. She shifted against him, wantonly inciting, proud that she had this effect on him, that he was losing his calm detachment because of her. Joey grasped her breast, caressing, kneading, toying with her nipple, inflaming her as she inflamed him. He dropped his mouth to capture a nipple, to suck, lick and suck again. She moaned. They kissed again. Joey dropped his hands to grasp her narrow waist. He broke the kiss, eliciting a regretful sigh, then dropped his head to trail full-mouthed kisses down the line of her jaw, the line of her neck, over her throat, her collarbone and lower, back to her swollen breasts and aching nipples. He sank lower, trailing the heat of his kisses over her midriff, her stomach, stopping to send fire through her navel, past her waist and down through the tiny patch of pubic hair until he reached her secret place. She felt sensation lance through her and her nerves flickered and jumped. Never a Lie It had never been like this before. Before it had been cold. Any warmth had died when Lyle finished. It had never been about her before. She had never been worshipped before. No one had adored her body before. No one had attempted to make her burst into flame before. No one had recognized her heat and passion before. Not until Joey. He dropped to his knees before her. He pressed his hot lips against her stomach. His hot kisses travelled lower, lower, through the tiny thicket, to her nether lips. Now he licked, his tongue warm and caressing. Oh God it had never been like this. He pointed his tongue and directed it in, slipping between her lips and seeking her inner essence. His thumbs held her open for him, his fingers gripping her backside, holding her steady. Had he let her go she would have fallen. Joey luxuriated in the feel of this woman, his woman. Experienced she might have been, but not like this. Clearly no one had ever tried to pleasure her. For a moment his lip curled. Stupid bloody moron, making no effort to please someone who deserved every pleasure. He fought down his anger. He was going to pleasure her, to ensure she realized the true gift of sex, the loving, the sharing, the exploding heights. He was going to teach her what real pleasure was. Lids falling, head tilting back she grabbed his head for safety and joy. Joy to hold any part of him as he gave her this previously unknown pleasure. Far, far more than she'd ever given herself. His tongue retreated from her depths, lavishly coating her lips with a mix of him and her. He licked her again, tongue flat, then slipped it under her hood to where her clitoris stood ready to emerge. The touch speared her, throbbed through her. Inside the tension was building in her, seeking an outlet for release. He tongued her clitoris again, a swipe with the flat of his tongue, a gentle lip bite and she was over the edge, spiralling into nothingness, stars shooting through her head as she fell into a mindless state of orgasmic bliss. Her hands tightened on his head. Her knees collapsed and she hung on him, hands gripping his head while he supported her buttocks. "Never, never, never like that. Oh Joey, Joey." She couldn't stop herself now. He needed to know. She couldn't tell him, but he needed to know. "Joey, I love you." "I love you, too, Artie, my Artie." He eased her quivering naked body over to the narrow bed. Naked, boneless, exploded, she yet lay in expectation and anticipation. More, more. She yearned to be filled, desire still thrumming through her veins. She caught her breath, slowed her breathing, stopped panting with the sheer breathless ache of her climax. There would be more, she knew. Could it possibly be as mind-blowingly ecstatic as it had already been? She watched him, poised over her. He suckled her breasts again, the assault on her sensitive nipples sending her mind reeling once more. Joey stared into her eyes, watching, seeing the warmth behind the desire that clouded them. He dropped to lie naked atop her, her breasts caressing his chest, then rose to insert himself into her. Slowly and lovingly her penetrated her. No pain. She was slippery. He slid easily. She could feel him filling her. Deeper and deeper. It was heaven. For Joey it was the greatest pleasure he'd ever know, being inside this warm and willing woman, his woman, the woman he'd claimed for his own. He started to move within, in and out of her, a smooth, slow rhythm that jolted her awareness each time he thrust forward, filling her again and again with his warmth. She clutched at him, arched her body beneath him, drove him further inside. She was live beneath him, her inner muscles grabbing him each time he thrust into her, her arms holding him tight, her hips rising into him, her mouth kissing him greedily. He began to move a little faster, and then faster yet. He could feel the tension rising within her. He fought to hold off, to put off the explosions he knew she would give him, fought to make her pleasure the equal of his. He thrust harder, deeper yet, again and again and again. Suddenly she was there. He could feel the tension suddenly release. Her muscles spasmed, inside and out. She bit into his shoulder to stifle her cry of release and joy. Her involuntary muscle spasms within pulled him over with her. He spent himself deep within, the shocks coming again and again. They collapsed together, each pushed beyond the limits of sanity for a time. Eventually they both returned. "Artie, that was the most intense experience of my life. You are wonderful, dearest, fabulous . . . I've run out of bests. You are all of the bests. God, I love you." "Oh Joey, I can't say what I mean. I mean all the best things you could ever say. I do love you, Joey, I do." "It was glorious, that first time, Joey," Artie's voice came from the bed. It was getting darker. Night was falling. "It was always good with you, Joey, always good, but our first time stands out. I never expected it could be like that, never. And it's been like that ever since. Fifteen years of joy, Joey. You gave me that." "I always wanted to give you joy, Artie. You deserved joy." It seemed that her mind was beginning to wander a bit. She was all there, just not focussed so much on the far past. "You know, Joey, life sometimes goes in patterns. Who would ever have guessed that Lyle would have been my first, and my last, but that I'd have been loved by you for fifteen years in between? Who would have guessed that he hadn't learned anything in the fifteen years in between, despite being married to one of the sweetest people we know? Strange." I let it go the first time, though it jolted me. Was Artie confessing to an affair with Lyle? With that bag of shit? She had never lied to me. Not even the littlest white lie to smooth things out a bit. Artie was compulsively honest. And now she was confessing that she'd been unfaithful to me. The blood roared in my brain. "I never meant to be unfaithful to you, Joey," she whispered again. "It's just that Lyle came over to the house one day when you were at the office. Probably he was supposed to be working. He treated me all nice. I don't think he had clued in yet that you owned the company. He came on pretty strong. I don't know whether he would have raped me if I'd fought harder. Anyway, I decided since it looked like it was going to happen to see whether he'd learned anything. He hadn't. I guess the experience only made me love you more. I didn't mean to hurt you. I can't leave you with the lie, though. I'm sorry, Joey." Joey couldn't say anything. That Artie had been unfaithful hit him in the gut. He froze up. It was all he could do to make himself leave without saying anything. He wanted to lash out. He couldn't do that to a dying woman. He left without saying goodbye. Artie looked after him, love flushing her countenance, making her even more beautiful. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. That, that had been so hard. It was so hard to hurt him. She'd never, ever, lied to him. It had to be done. She wasn't going to die until she did. She couldn't be sure she'd live long enough to do it later. Maybe there wouldn't be a later. It had to be done. Six days later she was dead. ***** Karen had seemed more broken up at the funeral even than Joey. He was of two minds. She only had one. Her best friend in all the world had lost his wife, his soul mate. She'd lost a good friend, too. The only person who still treated her as anything more than that bastard Lyle's wife. God, she wished she'd married Joey instead. Wished she'd gotten beyond that stupid shyness around him. Learned to treat him as a man, not the little boy she'd gone to school with forever, treated him as more than the wonderful friend he'd been. Artie had been gloriously happy in their marriage. She should have been. She had Joey. She'd made Joey happy, too. Karen hadn't realized at college that there were depths to Artie that didn't show. Nothing else could have made Joey so happy. He wasn't the type to glory in the trophy that Artie was. She'd married Lyle on a curious rebound. Joey and Artie had started going together in final year. It was only a couple of weeks and they were living in each other's pockets. A month and they were married. No children appeared to explain the fast marriage. No cracks appeared in their lives to justify the thought that maybe they'd married too fast. It had been true love and they'd seen it and seized it. How many of us ever do that? Karen had missed her chance. Karen had been hurt by Joey's marriage. She thought she'd lost her best friend. Artie never came between them. She made every effort to be friends with Karen, and had succeeded. Artie was perhaps the most selfless person she'd ever known. There'd been a reason to be hurt but it didn't make sense. She had no claim on Joey. She'd slept with other guys. Sometimes, when it was especially good, she dreamed afterwards that it had been Joey. She'd never let him know. When Lyle had proposed she'd accepted even though she didn't know him all that well. She'd been bereft. She'd been on the rebound from an impossible dream. He'd been okay. Then he turned her life from a dream to a nightmare. He didn't do anything to hurt her physically. He never tried to hit her. She had two brothers as big as Lyle. If he'd even thought of hitting her they'd have beaten him into a pulp. They were vindictive. They'd have done it again and again. The one time he'd raised his hand during a quarrel, his temper so badly frayed he might not be seeing straight, she'd muttered "Kyle and Kevin" and he'd backed off so fast it was almost funny. He never lost his temper that far again. It would have been life-threatening if he had. His life. Lyle hadn't hit her. He hadn't tried to run her down. He never complimented her, though. He never said anything nice to her. He never remembered her birthday, or their anniversary, not that she was willing to celebrate it. He never got her flowers or a gift for the sake of giving her something. It really hurt when Artie would show her the latest thing Joey had given her. Some stupid little ornament, only a couple of bucks, meant to remind her of something they'd shared. It wasn't the money. Lyle had gotten her one of the biggest rocks going for an engagement ring. It was that Joey was always thinking of Artie, and Lyle never seemed to be thinking of her that way. Lyle never really said anything bad to her. He never said much at all to her. There was no excuse to leave him. He worked hard, or at least it seemed so to her. He made decent money. There was nothing she could tag as a reason to leave him, not and end up involved with someone like him, only worse. What could she tell him to explain her leaving? Perhaps it was that stupid reluctance to commit herself that had lost her Joey. At least she'd never given Lyle children. She was never tempted to have an affair. The chances were there. She still looked as good as she had in college, still slim and fit. She'd turned down offers. Lyle was unfaithful, repeatedly. She could always tell. That wasn't her style. If she was going to be with someone else, she'd leave Lyle. Someday soon. Who was she kidding, she thought. She wasn't going to leave Lyle. After fifteen years it was too late. She'd never find anyone else. It didn't occur to her that life without Lyle was better than life with Lyle even if she was all alone. Then, at the end of the funeral and the committal, after they'd all thrown their sods on Artie's casket, she'd hugged Joey. "I know how much she meant to you, Joey. You two were the happiest couple. I always envied you. If there's anything I can do at all, anything to make it easier for you, tell me." Joey hadn't answered. He was sunk too deep in his grief. Perhaps he'd remember when he started trying to live without Artie. It was going to be tough. She thought she'd pity him, then recalled that he had fifteen wonderful years that most people didn't succeed in finding. His memories would all be of love, affection, kindness, honesty. She didn't have memories like that. ***** It was a month after the funeral. Joey was still plagued by both the loss of his wife and her terrible admission a few days before she died. She'd been driven by her impending death to confess an affair with possibly the worst possible villain he might have contemplated, her boyfriend from the days before they were together. He'd always thought that Lyle was gone for good and all once he and Artie started going out. She'd been forever telling him how much more she liked him than Lyle, how he treated her as a person and not as a thing the way Lyle did. Lyle had treated her as no more than a trophy. They'd had sex because that was what you did with a trophy and anyway he needed to get his rocks off. Joey had always treated her as someone he liked and later adored, especially when they made love. Artie had been a trophy, of course. She'd been quite gorgeous. Even after the cancer had started to eat her away she was beautiful. The pain lines couldn't take that away from her. Joey remembered his last sight of her, there in the hospital, after that amazing confession when his stomach was roiling with the unfairness of it all. She still looked great, her look especially loving, almost as if she'd known she would never see him again in this life. She hadn't. Joey couldn't bear to see the wife he had loved so much again after she'd admitted to that fling with Lyle. All right, it had been a fling, not an affair, but she had been unfaithful. The last time she made love in her life and it had been with Lyle, that bastard. He'd abused their trust. Lyle and Karen had been friends, not because of Lyle, who was an arrogant sod, but because both Joey and Artie had liked his wife Karen. Karen had been Joey's friend, never anything romantic, for years and years, going back to their early days n grade school. After he and Artie got together, Artie had made a special effort to be friends with Karen because she was Joey's friend. They'd drifted apart a bit when Joey set up the company and developed it into a leader in its field. Joey and Artie moved soon after graduation to be closer to their major market. Though they'd never lost touch, Lyle and Karen hadn't come back into their lives until about five years before when Lyle's new job took him to their community. They picked up where they left off with Karen and tolerated Lyle. Once, back in college, Lyle had twitted Joey about having had Artie before she'd gone to him. Joey had simply told him that he obviously couldn't satisfy a good woman. He, Joey, could. Lyle never brought the subject up again. He hadn't much liked Joey before, but he detested him after. Joey had never figured out why Karen, surely one of the sweetest women he'd ever known, had married that egotistical asshole, but she had. The thought of punishment for Lyle crossed Joey's mind, went on, circled back, settled in. Lyle worked for the same company as Joey did. Joey had learned about the hiring too late to stop it. There was a significant difference between their positions in the company, though. Lyle was in the lower levels of middle management. Joey owned the company. It would be an easy matter to get Lyle fired. The company could stand the penalties. He resented giving Lyle the best part of a year's salary for nothing, letting him lie back and continue seducing respected wives from their previously faithful ways, just as he'd done to Artie. Maybe there was something better, more appropriate to the crime. His mind wandered back to a conversation he'd had with Artie a few months back, before she'd failed. The cancer was there but there was still hope for remission. They'd been talking speculatively, the way they sometimes did, nothing practical, just exploring the way each other thought. They'd done something like that for the whole of their married life. They had each taken joy in all the aspects of the other for all of those fifteen years. That had been love, truly, deeply felt by them both, he thought. "Artie, what do you think a man should do if he finds out his wife has been unfaithful to him?" "Depends, I suppose. That's a pretty nasty supposition. You can't parcel out blame. They would both be equally responsible and anything done to the one has to be done to the other. I don't think anything physical, though. Even an unfaithful wife doesn't deserve to be beaten. A real man could never consider hitting a woman." "No, I agree with you there. It's not very liberating of you, though." "Perhaps not, though mostly the woman is weaker, and it's never been right to pick on someone weaker just because you can." "True enough. Back to my question, though." "As I said, it depends. Are you prepared to forgive this woman? Does she mean that much to you? I don't mean just because she comes crying to you and begs forgiveness. Every woman will do that. Trust has been destroyed. You toss her out and hope she can survive. You don't do any more than the law makes you do. If that happens, all you can do is remember all the good times. They might be tainted, in hindsight, but that's all in your mind and, most of the time, you'd be wrong to let them be tainted. "On the other hand, if you still love and want this woman I guess you have to try to allow her one mistake. I don't know how you could. If you were ever unfaithful to me I'd be tempted to kill you and the other woman no matter how much I still loved you. It depends on how much you love her. The only thing you'd have to be absolutely certain of is that you could never, ever tax her with that mistake. Otherwise you haven't really taken her back. You've just found a different way to punish her." "Suppose a case where you couldn't take your wife back. Maybe you're glad enough to be rid of her, maybe she's actually gone to the other man, maybe she's died or lost her mind. That just leaves you with the chance to wreak some sort of vengeance on the other party." "If you're glad to be rid of her, take the excuse and run. She'd deserve your congratulations, not your punishment. The other guy's actually done you a favour, bringing the crisis to a head. If she left you, sometimes that's enough punishment and sometimes not. Somewhere along the line she'll want to come back to you. Don't let her. Even if she won't do it again, and most of them will, you can never trust her again. If for some reason your wife is beyond any possible punishment, deserved or not, the simplest and often best punishment for the other party is to take his wife away from him." "How does that help?" "Assuming the guy is married he has some feeling for his wife, even if it's only as a possession. Losing her would pay him back. It's a direct strike at his masculinity. I'm assuming here that his wife is worth an effort. If she's a tireless shrew, leaving him with her is a worse punishment than taking her away. Sometimes the wife is worth having for yourself. In that case you have no guilt at all in taking her away. Do unto others, you know. I don't think you would want someone you could take away from another man, though. How would you know she wouldn't leave you for someone else? After all she's already done it once. "Mostly what you need to do is make her leave him. Usually that's doing her a favour. Maybe down the road when they're divorced she'll want you and you'll want her. It would be all right then." "You have a deliciously devious mind, dear." As Joey thought about the discussion it came to him that the answer to Lyle's deceit would be to take Karen away from him. If he could. Karen was honest and true, completely faithful. Did he want to destroy that, destroy her, just to get back at Lyle? He did have all those years of friendship to work with and he had Karen's own sweetness and sympathy. He also had, now that he was beginning to get into this revenge business, Lyle's own selfishness and egotism to turn against him. Best of all, he might actually get Karen, and she was worth the having, as much as Artie. He'd just have to make sure that she never realized it had started as a vendetta. Maybe Artie's fall had opened up a way for him to be happy again even after she'd died. The Artie he'd known would have been pleased for him. He wasn't sure about the woman who'd revealed herself in the hospital. He didn't think Artie had changed that much. Never a Lie Getting into revenge settled Joey. He'd been pretty much floating since the funeral. He thought about selling the company. He couldn't generate the interest to pursue that goal. It looked more like he'd just let the company slide into oblivion. After all, what was the point of success anymore. There was no one to share it with. Now, though, he needed the company and its assets and resources if he was going to complete his revenge. He began paying attention again. Even in the short time he'd been inattentive a couple of cracks had started. He pulled down those walls and made new, seamless ones. The company was growing again. The resources he thought he needed were on call. A week later and Joey was ready to start his campaign. He knew Lyle was out of town. There has to be some return when you own the company. He looked on this evening's attentions as a reconnaissance. The first step in any campaign had to be the gathering of information. He knew Karen was a faithful wife, unlike Lyle. He didn't want to destroy that faithfulness. Instead, he wanted to convince her to transfer it to him. He didn't have the first idea of how to seduce a virtuous woman in such a way that she wouldn't feel guilty for the rest of her life. Even worse, how could he seduce this woman and ever trust her again? The frustration was killing him. At the very least he could seduce her away from Lyle. Surely leaving that bastard couldn't wrack her with guilt. It wouldn't impair his trust in her, either. It was a start. Artie had thought, in the abstract, that it would even be good for the woman. Joey was reluctant to start a campaign when he couldn't see the end of it. That wasn't the way he'd built his business. It had been the way he'd built his life, though, he realized. He'd taken Artie out because she'd asked him to. He'd been sure she was going back to Lyle. Instead, she'd turned into his true love and they'd had fifteen wonderful years together. Planning obviously wasn't everything. He'd called Karen earlier in the week to set up their dinner date. He didn't use the word "date". He'd told her he would like a little time with her as the other person who'd known Artie longest. He was feeling down in the dumps, he'd said. He was relying on the promise she'd made at the funeral, to help him out, though he'd had sense enough not to mention it. He knew she'd remember. She would have tried to help him even without the promise. It was what good friends did. That evening Joey was charming as always. Karen had taught him to be socially comfortable. He'd learned to be charming from Artie. "You know, Artie took a lot of pleasure in finishing me," he told Karen. "I was a little rough around the edges when she took me on. Maybe a lot. You'd done a great deal for me, too, I realize. You made me into something she could work with. Artie knew a lot about getting along with people, being nice, just liking people and letting them know how she felt. It wasn't a pose. She liked people. She taught me that, and how to let down some of the barriers so the people I liked would know it." "She was a wonderful friend, Joey. There were nights when things weren't going well and I could call her and she could make it better. Or enough better that I could live with it. She had a wonderful joy in her, an appreciation for everything in life that's good." They spent the evening at dinner chatting, recalling old memories, some from as far back as grade four. He got her home early. It was no part of his plan to be obvious. It was no part of his plan to fall in love, either. He hadn't seen that coming. She accepted his invitation to lunch the next week. He explained that it was just to keep in contact. She wondered if there was something more. No, there couldn't be. She was married and that wasn't going to change no matter how much she wanted out. It was good to have her friend back, though. It was good to feel that she was helping him. Two weeks later they went out to dinner again. Joey thought it was time to start undermining Lyle. Just a little. He had to be very careful. Karen was very intelligent. "So tell me about you, for a bit," he started after they'd ruminated about Artie's days in college. "Have you had as happy a life as we had?" At least until that last devastating disclosure, he thought bitterly. The bitterness gave him the strength to go on. "Not so much, I don't think. Lyle has never been as successful as you have been." "That wasn't what I meant. Material success is not the measure I had in mind. Artie and I would have been happy in poverty, I'm sure." That was only the truth, he thought. "Well, not so much even that way. Lyle is a different person from you." He left it there, not wanting to push her any further. Just let the thought blossom. They went to lunch the following week. Joey was careful to ensure no possible hint of scandal could attach to her. They only met in the most public places. The fact that he was now seeing her more often, and alone, was easily explained. She'd been Artie's friend, the way Lyle had never been, and she was helping him get over his loss. His terrible loss. His double loss, though no one knew that of him. She brought the subject up first. Perhaps her situation was worse than he had imagined. Artie would have known. "I've been thinking about what you asked me when we had dinner last. You have your own problems. I don't want to burden you with mine." "Karen, we've been friends for a very long time. We've always shared our woes. Perhaps it will give me something to think about that's not myself and my sorrow." "You've never been selfish, or self-centred." "I've been wallowing in my grief. If you have a problem, share it with me. Let me get out of my own troubles for a while. Let me help you if I can." "There's nothing you can do for me. I made this bed. Now I must lie in it. But perhaps it will make it more bearable to share. I've never had anyone to share it with. I was afraid to tell even Artie too much, but I think she guessed." "Tell me about it." Karen hesitated. She saw only concern on the face across the table from her. Someone who never judged. Someone to whom she had once entrusted her every secret. It would feel good to let go, if just for an hour. She started to talk. "I knew marrying Lyle was a mistake before we exchanged vows. He was all about Lyle, so wrapped up in himself that he couldn't see anyone else, feel for anyone else, care for anyone else. He made love as if I was some plastic doll, maybe a little warmer, but not from anything he did. It was dehumanizing. We haven't had relations in nearly a year. Oh God, I can't believe I'm telling you this." "Then stop. Perhaps at a future time you'll want to tell me more, or perhaps not. You know I'll never tell another soul." "I do, I know that, Joey. You never have. I don't think you could. Thank you. Even getting out a bit helps. I didn't know." They finished lunch shortly after. He admired his self-restraint even as he cursed himself for interrupting. Who knew whether she would ever be willing to talk freely again? Slowly, slowly, he reminded himself. It had to be all her doing. She couldn't be allowed to think she'd been pushed at any point along the way. That was the only way to create a permanent rupture. Perhaps that was all he could do, but he could at least deprive Lyle of this woman. He obviously undervalued her, but still, he placed some value on her, and losing her would hurt, even if only in his self-esteem. Joey knew he could never tell her of the inestimable valuation he placed on her. Perhaps one day if she ever freed herself from Lyle. It was almost a month before Joey and Karen had schedule matches that let him take her to dinner again. Lyle had messed up a sales call the last time he'd been out and it had taken a lot of work to get the marketing crew to let him off the leash again. Finally Joey had put his foot down and demanded that they give Lyle a final chance. "Joey, we should talk about Artie again. But I've been thinking about my issues, too." "Let's talk about them, Karen. Artie would understand." "Artie would make me talk about my problems, I know. There's never been a better woman. I was afraid for you when you started going out with her, Joey. I thought she'd destroy you. Pull you into her web of superficiality. But Artie was not superficial. She recognized what she had in you. She was wonderful." "Yes, she was." Joey believed that, truly. Maybe it wasn't everything she was, but she had been a wonderful woman. "Anyway, about me. I could put up with Lyle being a lousy lover if he wasn't indifferent to me." "Indifferent? How could anyone be indifferent to you? You've always been a sweetheart. You were a friend to me when I was an unlikeable twerp. You grew up to be a handsome woman. You're a prize for anyone." "Well, Lyle has been indifferent. I know he doesn't care for me. He's been unfaithful. I can't begin to count the times. I always know. I think he wants it that way." "You must have thought of leaving him." "I've never got up the nerve. I can't say I left him because he forgot my birthday. He's never remembered my birthday. Why would I leave him for that, now?" "It's not working, Karen. Are you going to punish yourself for the next thirty-five years because you made a mistake? You've already put fifteen years in. You should be eligible for parole, even from a life sentence." Joey laughed at his analogy. Karen didn't. "You're right, Joey, it's been a life sentence. I can't do it alone. I don't have any money. I don't have anywhere to go. I don't have anyone to hold my hand if I do. I don't even have a real reason to give him." "You have me, Karen. You've always had me." "And what do I tell him?" "If you really want to pull his guts out through his heart, tell him you're leaving to find yourself. No guy can figure that out. If you want to be kinder, tell him you've reached your tolerance level for assholes." "How is that kinder?" "It's a real reason. The other one isn't. It leaves him open to all kinds of self-doubt. Anything from 'you've driven me to women, you're such an incompetent lover' to 'your dick's too small'." "Oh God, if I only had the nerve." "Look inside, Karen. Find the woman you were. Find my best friend. You can do it. I'll help." It was another month before Karen faced up to the shards of her life as it was. Joey hadn't seen her since their last dinner. She knew Joey would be there for her if she ever made up her mind. He wanted her to succeed. Strangely, it wasn't about revenge on Lyle, hurting Lyle, punishing Lyle, not anymore. In his mind now it was all about Karen. Saving her from a loveless marriage, an arid desert of a relationship. He hadn't had to invent things to drive a wedge between Lyle and Karen. Lyle had done that all by himself, the damn fool. He'd done a better job than Joey ever could have. Now she needed to escape, to save herself. Joey couldn't do it for her. She had to save herself. He'd be there by her side, if she wanted him, the moment she did. Joey was surprised to see Karen's brother Kevin when he stopped into a flower shop. He'd been thinking about sending her flowers. He'd finally decided that would be pushing too hard, way too hard. "Hello, Kevin. I didn't know you were in town." "A little bird told me Karen might need some support, so Kyle and I are here for a couple of weeks." "Do her good to see you, I'm sure. She has been a little down lately." "Call me if you need us, Joey." Joey didn't know what that was about, but he was glad Karen had family around to lean on if she ever got up the nerve to move on. He figured he'd done what he could. Maybe there was a touch more. "Kevin, you know she's not happy with Lyle. Can't you get her out?" "Been trying for years, Joey, years. Probably from before she married him. You know how loyal she is. Even when the dumb shit doesn't deserve a particle of it." "Yeah, that much I know. You know I'm here for her, too." "We know that, Joey, we know. Too bad she didn't marry you." "I'm free now. You heard Artie died, last year, now." "No, we didn't know that. I'm sorry to hear it. Artie was a fine woman. That just changes what we may end up doing. Good talking to you, Joey. Gotta go. Kyle and me, we have to revise our planning. Please don't let anyone know you saw me. We want to be a surprise for Karen." "Sure." Strange who you'll see around when you haven't seen them for twenty years. There are lots of people you couldn't recognize after twenty years. Kevin was like Karen, though, just a trifle more mature-looking than he'd been in college. It was good to know he was around. Those two boys were reliable. Joey was busy on a conference call, a deal that might get the company in the door in China, one of the most difficult markets on Earth. They were just about there. The problem was with Joey. The marketing people were aglow. The Chinese rep was reluctantly willing. Joey still had a little reservation about operating so far out of his comfort zone. His secretary slipped a note under his nose. "There's a lady on line two, says she's Karen, says she has to talk to you." He made his excuses and hung up on the conference call. The deal never went through. The Chinese gentleman was deeply affronted. So were his marketing people. It didn't matter. Friends were more important, always. "Joseph . . ." he started to answer. "Hi, Joey. It's Karen. I've done it. I've really done it! I left Lyle. He came home reeking of somebody's perfume again and I left. Then and there. Oh Joey, I feel so free. Hungry, too, but free." "Have you got a place to stay?" "No, but I don't care. I'm free, Joey, I'm free. I never knew how bad it was. Now I'm free!" "Where are you?" "In your lobby." "Be right down. I can get you something to eat at least. Be right there." "Okay. I'm free," she added, almost as if she couldn't believe it herself. Joey got her somewhere to eat. She ate like she'd never seen food. "I'm sorry, Joey. It's just that I haven't felt like eating in so long and now I do. I feel so gooood." She drew it out, as if wanting to shout it out to the world. Joey was surprised that her vibrancy had returned so quickly. He almost cried to see the change in her, to see what she'd repressed for so long. "Eat whatever, Karen. Feel good about yourself. I so love to see how you're recovering." "You know, I never realized what living with him had done to me. I had no idea. I'm so glad to be free of him that I feel that I'm flying. Flying high." They spent the afternoon finding her an apartment. There were a few privileges to being the boss. "Oh, this one's perfect, Joey, but I can never afford it. I haven't got the rent to put up, let alone the damage deposit. Damn. I haven't a cent, really. I was so mad I left everything behind." "Where'd you sleep last night?" "I didn't. I was so high on getting away I just wandered the streets all night. I ended up in your lobby, so I called you." "Let me put up the money for now. You can settle with me later. You know I don't have money problems. It's too important to make sure you get a roof over your head." "All right. I can accept from a friend what I can't take from a stranger. Does that mean it costs to be my friend?" "Every friendship costs, Karen. You know that. It's worth every penny and every minute, though, to know there's someone there for us, too, when we need it." Once the apartment deal was closed the two of them went back to Karen's home. Joey carried armload after armload of Karen's things out to the car until the trunk and the back seat were overflowing. "Where are we going to put all this?" "My place, until you can move in. It's only a week. You can have the guest room. There hasn't been a guest there since Artie died. I hope the dust isn't too thick." "Me too. I don't think dusting and cleaning is something I want to do on my first real night of freedom." It would be all right. Joey had employed a cleaning service for the last year of Artie's life and had kept them on after she died. Everything would be spotless for Karen, at least if he'd remembered to do his breakfast dishes. Otherwise, almost spotless. It was good times for them both. Joey felt like he'd achieved something for Karen. She was out from under a blot on her life, a black cloud of selfishness and callousness, with new room to grow and to be. He may have achieved revenge. Maybe Lyle wouldn't care. He was no longer motivated by revenge. Lyle didn't matter. Karen mattered. And he'd helped her. It's what friends did. He felt good about himself for the first time since Artie made that devastating confession. They talked, chatted, laughed together. "Joey, I never thought I'd laugh again." After a week or so, Karen was able to move into her apartment. She was free. She was alone. She had a friend. She had people she could count on. She blossomed. Two nights after Karen moved into the apartment Joey got a call from a blocked number. "I'm at Karen's. Get your ass over here." He shot out of the chair and raced for the door. His keys seemed to float out of his coat pocket. It was only minutes before he was pressing the button. A click responded immediately. There had been no query over the tinny voice of the intercom. Joey took the stairs, not prepared to wait for the lumbering elevator. Karen's door was open. He was afraid to see what might be inside. A note was jammed into the little frame that held name cards. Karen hadn't put one in yet. "Take care of her. K" "K" had to be one of her brothers. Joey called softly. "Karen?" He wandered around the apartment, looking. A noise from the bedroom startled him. Karen was lying on the bed, crying. She'd been hit, beaten. Many of her clothes had been torn off. Not enough that she'd been raped he didn't think. Bloody hell, that's what the note had meant. He cradled her in his arms. "You going to be all right?" he asked quietly. "I'm here for you. Someone rescued you. There are all kinds of people who love you." He didn't know why she needed to know she was loved. Couldn't hurt. She melted into him, crying softly. After a while she sighed. "Are you hurt, hospital hurt, dear?" "No, no, nothing broke. He tried, though. He tried to kill me, I think. Rape me and kill me." Joey wondered why she hadn't tried to call him. The phone was on the floor. There on the phone table was his card. It was the one with Kevin's number, easier to read than his own. Maybe a better resolution than he could give her, too. "Do you want to call the police?" "What, and tell them it was my husband? He came up to settle our differences, he said. Then he started making snide comments. That's when I started punching the number. Then he was reaching for me. Said he was going to show me one last time what I was going to be missing. I hit the last number and yelled for help. Then he pulled the phone out of the wall. I thought he was going to smash my head in with it. He missed. He started to rip my clothes off. He hit me every time something ripped. Then he wound up to hit me again, and he was gone. 'Take care, sis' and whoever it was was gone, too." He or they hadn't left that fast. There'd been the note and then someone had let me in. "Um, I don't think we need the police to resolve this one." "We know who it was. Kyle told him at our wedding that if he ever heard even a whisper that he was hurting me, he was a dead man. Now he is." "Family has to stick up for one another." "And lovers, they stick up for the people they love." "Friends can be good, too. Come home with me. Your room isn't dirty yet. You don't need to stay here alone." "I think I'd like that." Never a Lie The next night we were sitting together reading in my living room. Karen had some kind of romance novel that had her giggling every few minutes. I was reading about yet another hero who couldn't quite live up to James Bond. The phone rang. "Yes?" It was the police. They'd found Lyle. "I think it would be better if I told her. . . . Thank you. . . . You won't need her to identify the body? . . . No, we'll make arrangements. . . . Good night." I sat back in my chair. "Karen?" "Yes?" "It's over, Karen, all over. Lyle is gone. He's dead." "What happened?" "The police think that he was too drunk to know what he was doing. The last couple of taverns he was in said he could hardly walk. They'd checked him for car keys, but he didn't have any. He refused a cab ride home." Joey wondered how her brothers had managed that part of the deception. "Lyle didn't drink that much very often." "They thought he was upset because you'd left him. Then he'd pulled that stupid stunt your brothers got you out of. I guess one of your neighbours reported an altercation. That could mean jail time." "What happened?" "They think he wandered into the railway cutting. There's a level crossing down that way. Then they think he curled up on the ties to sleep. The engineer never saw him. It wasn't until the morning that he was found, probably killed when the train went over him. A train went over him at least once, maybe more." "You're telling me that I don't really want to know what happened, aren't you?" "Yes. That's the official story. It will hold up. You have no proof it happened any other way. Kyle and Kevin have been in Green Bay for the last two weeks." "Oh God, I'm so glad. I shouldn't be. I shouldn't rejoice in the death of another human being. But I'm so glad he's dead. Does that make me a bad person, Joey?" "Not under the circumstances, dear. Maybe someday you'll be able to look back on some of the good times and regret his passing. I don't think that will be soon." "Not when there aren't any happy memories to look back on. The best times we had were when we visited with you and Artie." "Then you can make happy memories now." Joey kissed her at the door to her room. She kissed him back tentatively. He let it lie. There was time. A couple of nights later Joey decided it was time to find out if Karen had anything for him. Karen was more relieved than upset that Lyle was dead. She'd planned to divorce him. To be harsh, his death simplified matters but it didn't change them. Took the fear away, though. The two of them had been comfortable with each other when she'd stayed at his house until her apartment was ready, and again for the last two or three days when he supported her again. It was the old friendship reinstated. Joey was surprised that they had become so comfortable in that framework so quickly. He resolved to see whether there were any sparks, or whether he'd better leave it alone. One can usually find a lover. A friend is more difficult. Joey didn't want to lose a friend. He was beginning to think that he could spend the rest of his life with Karen, though. It couldn't be the same as it had been with Artie. It would be different. They were different people. He thought it could be just as good, though. It was more than a hope. Joey decided he should start pushing her limits, or were they his limits? He wondered how she would respond. Was there anything to build on at all? Or was she still just a friend? Artie had been his lover before she'd been his friend. Maybe that's the sequence a relationship always followed. He didn't see that it had to be that way. He was getting too old to just let things work out over time. Before he could put his plan into action, Karen surprised him. "Do you know what I regret most in all our long friendship?" "No. I don't think I have any regrets at all." "I regret that I could never bring myself to tell you that I loved you as more than a friend." "That would have made different lives for ourselves, certainly. We can't know if they would have been better." "I'm not going to wallow in it, Joey. I'm just not passing up the same chance again." "I guess I've always loved you, Karen. From the very first. I don't think it changed into a romantic love until after Artie died. I don't think I'd have let it. I couldn't tell you while Lyle was alive and you were still married to him. You weren't free, and if you didn't return my love it would hurt me too much and if you did it would only be a burden on you. You're free of him, now, as a widow, not the way you wanted to be, I know, but still free, so I can tell you." Joey rose from his chair. She rose from the couch to meet him. He embraced her, arms holding the woman he loved. He didn't know whether he loved again, or loved still. It wasn't important. She looked deep into his eyes, tightened her arms about him and initiated the kiss. The kiss started slowly and built as they became accustomed to each other's lips. He pressed gently and she opened to him, wide, her tongue invading him. They exchanged caresses with their tongues. Their hands wandered over each other, touching, thrilling, exploring and arousing. "Let's go upstairs," she murmured into his chest. "Let's." Upstairs in his bedroom Karen reached for him again, her fingers unbuttoning his shirt. Flick. Flick. Flick. When she finished with his last button he tugged her sweater over her head. Her breasts were encased in a simple white brassiere, with a touch of frilly lace that made his erection pulse. She was beautiful. Her midriff was still taut, a feminine curve to it. His eyes fixed on her unblemished skin. His hands discovered it was smooth and silken soft. He reached behind her to unfasten her bra. He slipped it off her shoulders, momentarily blocked by her own actions in relieving him of his shirt. Her breasts were marvels, rounded and erect though not very large. Perfection could come small as well as large, he thought. The pink areolae were medium size. Her nipples were luscious looking, not especially large, but firm, upstanding, betraying her arousal. She gained equal pleasure from the sight of him. She breathed in the scent of him. There was an essential maleness, overlain with a trace of his bodywash, a faint hint of peppermint, perhaps. He noted her feminine scent, a special scent that belonged to Karen, natural as the Earth and incredibly arousing. They dropped their slacks, almost together, and laughed at the coincidence of their desires. Naked but for undershorts and panties, they embraced, their warm bodies pressing into each other as they kissed. His erection worked between her thighs. He could feel the moistness in her private place. "I want to touch all of you," she murmured. "And I, you," he answered her, his lips on her ear, her neck, trailing down her chest. She pulled away and slid down her last garment. He followed. They were naked together. They moved towards each other again, hands reaching for the other. Hands slid down backs, over buttocks, pulling the other in and together. "Let's get in bed, sweetheart." They moved to the bed, each reluctant to release the other. The covers were moved down. One slid into the sheets. The other followed. He feasted, then, on her breasts. A hand took one, massaged it gently, fingers slipping around to tweak the nipple, enjoying its hardness. His mouth attacked the other, kissing from top to bottom, licking the underside, sliding up to take in the nipple and nurse gently, tongue ever active. He switched then to the other breast. She moaned and threw her head back into the pillow, revelling in the attentions he paid her. Her own hands wandered over his chest and arms, coming to rest on the strength of him, stroking softly, feeling it lurch in her hands as she caressed. She pushed him away and dropped her own mouth to his chest. She dragged her mouth to his nipples, suckling each in turn. She felt the pounding of his heart beneath her lips. He gasped with the pleasure of it. His hands wandered down her lower back and came to rest on her buttocks. He kneaded, caressed, then simply pulled her against him. He turned her gently on to her back. She shifted slightly, as a cat might, and arched towards him. He moved her legs apart and knelt between. Breathing heavily, he moved over her. His eyes, heavy lidded, absorbed in his passion, met hers, equally impassioned, full of love and lust. He fumbled briefly, then found her. He slid into her welcoming depths, a long, slow, glide until she was filled, filled with the man she loved. They stayed together, filling and filled, for a few moments, enjoying the place and the feelings the years had denied them. She gasped at the sensation. Wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders she pulled him tighter. "So this is what making love is?" "This is what love is," he answered her. He withdrew, then, almost all the way, and then pushed slowly in again, stoking the fires within her. He repeated, another long slide, and another, each increasing the heat within. He forced himself to be calm, not to take his pleasure alone, the need to bring this incredible woman to the peak that had been long denied her lending him the strength he needed. He could feel her body responding to his, little quivers, quick grasps from her internal muscles, moans and gasps of delight escaping her lips. He continued thrusting, long, deep strokes, increasing speed until he was driving into her. She responded with louder cries, wilder movements of her body, harder clutches from inside. He could sense her climbing, climbing, higher and higher. He held back on the urge to release that was so strong in him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she pulled him even more tightly to her. Then with a startled cry she arched beneath him as sweet, hot pulses of pleasure washed through her. She felt the intensity of his erection increase, pulse once, then he released himself into her as her muscles took, took and took again from him. When she came back to herself from that place of pleasure he'd sent her, she could see a dazed and wondering expression in his eyes. He'd come with her, then, not sent her. He could see in her eyes the sleepy contentment of fulfillment. She'd come with him, then. She stroked his cheek. "It was truly making love." "Yes." He had no other answer for her. They spent the night together. They spent their lives together. Karen never left. They sublet her apartment and sold the house she'd lived in with Lyle. She swore she would never go back to it. A couple of months after Joey and Karen got together, they married. It was too fast, perhaps, but they'd known each other forever. There couldn't be any doubts. Three months after that, Karen told Joey she was pregnant. "That's absolutely fantastic news, Karen. Me, a father. I never expected that I would be a father, not once Artie and I knew we could never have kids." "I always wanted children, Joey. I decided early on that I'd never have children with Lyle. Why I didn't leave him I'll never know. Maybe I thought I could reform him. Maybe I just didn't have enough gumption to do what I knew needed doing. Maybe I was waiting for you." "Have you given any thought to names?" "As soon as I knew I was pregnant I knew what the names had to be. You'll agree, I think. I don't think you have a choice if you don't. If it's a boy I want him to be Joseph Albert, after his dad and my dad. If it's a girl, she has to be Artemisia Millicent, for Artie and my mom. "You know, Joey, Artie was a very fine woman. She made sure we - you and I - never lost touch. In a way she even made it possible for us to get together the way we have. She loved you so much that she would have given anything she had to make you happy. It's too bad she can't be here with us to see how we've been able to be so happy together." That was when Joey realized that maybe, just maybe, Artie had lied to him about Lyle. Another half minute and he knew she had lied to him. It was the only time. She had never had a fling with Lyle. She had never betrayed him. She had simply found the most effective way to make sure Joey rescued her friend from the trap of a really bad marriage and at the same time got together with the best friend he'd ever had. She knew he would remember that conversation they'd had about the best form of revenge. Artie had thrown away the comfort of a few more days with Joey and maybe blighted her memory in Joey's heart, but she'd made absolutely certain he would be happy again. It's what you did for someone you loved. She'd always loved him. Finally, he could cry for her.