1 comments/ 13775 views/ 0 favorites Eavesdrop By: SpaceToast "And be your lord left wanting for anything?" "Yes, but, a small thing...." "Well I'm bare over five foot, but I s'pose y'already've got me in service. Prithee?" "I, um, I wish only for your favor. -Here, let me get those!" "Clumsy girl. Not so sharp, she that drops her sharpeners! Away. Don't be bothering y'self!" "You're lucky this one didn't stab you through the foot." "Wouldn't match with the rings on my toes, would it?" "Nor become such a pretty foot." "You said before you wanted... my favor?" "Just an encouraging word. Something to warm my spirits, when we're out chasing the, um, the Wolf." "Well if that were all it took to warm a man's heart, whiskey'd be out of a job. But if you want kind words, foreigner-" "No need for my hands, miss?" "No! Begone with you, Gail. The master needs his rest for tomorrow." "I don't see you going to the scullery." "I've got a few sharpeners might do worlds for that clattering tongue of yours, Gail...." "Ladies, please-" "There! See her run. You won't be giggling once I've seen you through, Gail-a-port! I'll latch the door after her, just 'till I'm finished putting the edge back in your daggers and darts." "But you've done it already." "Oh, won't hurt being... careful.... My elbow's happy to meet you, too, but it's my hand you'll to be searching for if you want to shake." "The weapons are all as fine and oiled as they're going to get. I just wanted to speak with you." "Well right then. What is it you want to know? Sorry, I've got grease on my hand-" "The past few days have been extraordinary..." "That's good to hear, what with the past few years in my neck being so dark." "I know. It must have been terrible, losing so many people." "It has an effect on a girl. One you might never expect. A few you would. Ach, look at me cry. And now there's grease on my eye, too! Weak blowdown of a girl.... I'm wiping this eye with my dress, so you'd best cast away a moment.... Do you always do what I tell you to!? Act like you don't want to see under a poor girl's dress." "I should think you'd want me to be proper." "I like the proper in you. Sits well." "Now your dress has grease on it, too." "Best keep me from a candle. Hard with the sun down." "As I... I've been failing to say-" "You're wanting my favor?" "Anything you might say. Encouragement." "Say? I could say an entire 'cyclopedia. How about this? I fancy you. I've fancied you since you came off the boat. You think it chance I ended up your servant this stay? Ha! Chance and two crescents in old Miss Packit's dangly purse! I saw you get all sort of embarrassed-like, out in front of the crowds at the fest yesterday, and I saw you sling that whatchamacallit off your back and place a dart in your pheasant as he flew, neat as you please. I confess, when you gave it me, in front of everyone (for not knowing anyone else there to give it!) I felt like your lady, not just your bustle girl. Me little sis, she got an earful of you from me last night's meal. Ate like royals, we did. Yes, yes I fancy you. Well say something, why don't you! Look at me, blowdown...." "If we actually manage to win against this thing, this Wolf, and I come back..." "Yes?" "I want to take you with me. I haven't much, back home, mind you, but-" "Hush... Hush up, hush up, hush up...! Anything you want of me. Y- ...I've been kissed by a few drunken fools before, but never like that. Pray, give it me again." "You're beautiful." "Ha! I'm a clatter of red hay-straw and freckles, with the back of a girl who knows work. But kiss me again you fool, if willing.... My feet are off the ground." "Am I hurting you?" "My dress is riding up. Pulling a mite. I guess I don't mind." "Sit, then." "On your lap? Don't mind if- ...Now I'm on a better height with you. I li- I like it when you kiss my neck. Oh yes.... My face is so warm. My freckles must be standing out like firebrands. Do it agai- ...Whoops! I'm slipping. Put your hand on my backside. Almost like... yes.... I'm so hot. I've got to get this dress off -- or at least down over my shoulders, I should say! Just pull the -- thank you. Much much better. Oh kiss me... kiss, kiss... Oh yesss... Whoops! I, um, I'm sorry..." "Now who's being too proper?" "I guess I'm not quite decent anymore! Just one breast shy, but still.... Your hand is s'rough. I like it there." "Your breasts feel so full. I want to... suck-" "Oh my god! Oh god... Oh suck on it, yes. Suck my nipp. Here's the other, please. Oh my dress is a wreck. Anything you want. Anything o' me! Mmmm!" "You feel so hot between your legs. Wetter and wetter, and wetter..." "Dripping wet. Touch m- Yes, kneed my little mound of hair. Kneed me like dough. Yes... Please..." "This might hurt." "Do, do!" "I feel inside you. You're squeezing me. And again. And again." "I'm not trying to!" "I don't mind... I don't mind... Does that feel good? Does that? Does that? Oh god I need to have you." "Me, yours, as you like me...! What? Don't stop." "Take off your dress." "Right. Hey, no... no fair.... Now you're dressed and I'm not.... And I like your leg between my knees when you lift me, but I think I'd like it better without your pants." "I want my pants off right now." "Put me down and I'll help you.... Well no wonder you wanted 'em off. Can I... just...?" "Please. Mmmm... Nice... Your hand feels so little and hot on me." "I can feel your heart beating." "Come here-" "You feel so hard against my belly. Pushing against me like that." "I want it in your belly." "Okay." "You all right?" "I'm guessing I just don't know what to think right now.... But keep your lips on me, and maybe I'll put it together.... And now I'm in pillows! I can't say I mind. Yes, down here. Kiss me." "I didn't hurt you when I tossed you down here?" "No. I'm tougher stuff than it looks like. Good. Get up on me. Come onto me." "I don't want to crush you." "You won't. Tougher than... looks. Mmmm, thank you. That's how I like it. Feel so good on me. Feel tip of you... between my legs. Let go. Let go in... Uuuuhh! Yes! Yes! Oh you're mine. Mine! Give me... everything you've... got in ya!" "Feel me inside you." "I feel you! I feel... So good. Too... too..." "Uk!" "Ow. No, don't stop!" "Can't-" "Don't... don't... Good. So good." "I want to fill your little belly up. Fill it right up!" "Do! Do... Fill. Yes!" "Fill-" "Don' hold back! Hold back, no! Heave...! Uh... Uhhh! Deep... Filled. Fill! Yes! Oh, m'lord!!! M'lord... Oh!!! Me... lllord... m'lorrr... Su' much...." "Are you awake?" "Mmmmph... Where be I... you? Um... Hello." "You were wonderful last night." "I don't remember much. Must ha' liked it. No... I guess I remember most. I still feel ye inside me, too. Oh my!" "What are you laughing at?" "I don't know! I can't stop m'sel! Oh, you look wonderful this morn. I could eat ya." "You are beautiful." "I'd bet I look a fair mess." "Yes, but my mess." "Well aren't ye sweet? Now where's my dress...? We've a few hours by the sun; I'll go down and fetch us some breakfast. Oh. Oh dearie, dearie...." "What now? Hey. If you don't tell me what you're laughing at, I'll put you over my knee." "Supposin' I likes it?" "You wicked girl -- what's the joke about?" "Listen." "What... what is that?" "Them be snores, other side this door. The girls were listening to us all night, I'd reckon." Eavesdropping "I was taking a bath this morning and I thought of you." Sarah purred into the phone. "Wow. I'm flattered." Rob said flatly. "Seriously. I was thinking about our talks and how excited you'd get if I told you what happened last night." "You're cruel. Tease." Rob snorted. "I know you love it. Why else would you call every single day?" She smiled into the receiver. "Okay, I relent. Tell me your sordid tale of debauchery. Lemme just get comfortable." Rob put the phone near his crotch and Sarah heard him unzip. She licked her lips. "Ready?" She asked. "Sure." "So I told you I was going out with that guy from the bank, Muir, right?" "Muir." Rob snorted again. "Yeah, shut up. So the date was pretty run of the mill. We went out to Domenics', had a couple drinks, and went back to his place." "The usual." "Right. So, his apartment is HUGE and its' got this big patio in the back he called 'the lanai'. Tiki torches, plants, the whole bit. And this big redwood hot tub, but we never went in it. So, we're sitting on his couch and he asks me what I'm into. I really laid it on thick. I started telling him how much I like to suck cock and feel cum shooting in my hot, warm mouth and he was getting HARD. I could tell by the way he kind of readjusted in his shorts and there was that big bulge again, like at the bank. So I moved across from him and put my sandal on his crotch and asked him if he'd mind taking it off. He had these big warm hands with long fingers and perfect nails and I watched him move them as he loosened the strap on my sandal and I was like, WOW. I was getting wet just watching his hands move. He saw me watching so he splays his long, beautiful fingers around my ankle and up my calf." "Mmm." "So he slips of my sandal and starts massaging my foot and I start moaning like I'm really into it. This sets him off. He takes my foot and starts licking my toes, one by one, then he sucks my second toe into his mouth and tongues it like a delicate piece of fruit. His mouth was warm and slick, and I start thinking about his tongue and lips and really start moaning. I put my other foot over his crotch and start moving it lightly, so, with his mouth still holding my toes he takes the other sandal off so I can feel everything. He trades my feet off and sucks my other toes, and I move my still damp foot up his shorts to play with his hugely hard cock. He groans a little, so I remove my feet from him and run my hands up his legs. I moved his shorts over and his cock springs free. I run my fingertips over it then close my hand around it and he starts bucking a little. And that turned me on. My pussy is getting noticeably moist through my shorts, so I take them off. He immediately stands up and takes his off too so we're both standing there in T-shirts in the middle of his living room. So he kneels at my feet and runs his hands up the outside of my legs, then the inside, moving up far enough to spread my thighs a little, but avoiding my pussy. He bends and sucks the inside of my knee lightly and I'm saying little encouraging things. Then, like he couldn't stand it anymore, he gently pushes me on the couch and delves his warm tongue into my soft fur down there. And then he's licking my clit over and over, keeping the tempo right so I am almost to the brink of coming. Right as I start moving against him, he takes my entire clit between his lips and sucks in this long, slurping lick and I come hard, bucking against his mouth and moaning like an animal. Then I looked down and realized he'd been stroking his cock along the couch, and it was big and hard and red. I grabbed him around the hips and pushed him to the floor so his back was propped up against the couch and his knees were spread wide. Then I try to take the head of his cock into my mouth, but it's a bad angle so he slides up onto the couch. There was no way I could take the whole damn thing into my mouth, so I suck down what I can and lick around the sides. This seems to be satisfy him quite well, so I lick my hand move it up and down his long shaft, rotating my wrist a little and sucking the head in and out in the same motion. This just about does it for him, so I make little circles with my pointed tongue right under the head as I'm sucking. He moans quite loudly and his breathing is terribly raspy so I decide to let him come. I moan on every withdrawal and flick my tongue up and down from the tip down to where my hand is. I'm looking up and him and he makes this face, oh, it was so hot. He grits he teeth and sort of growls and I'm dripping all over again. So he starts saying 'I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come' like a warning so I bear down, sucking faster and harder and more deliberately. Then, right as he comes I move my finger up the underside of his cock and push in and he just EXPLODES into my mouth with this huge growling groan. And he's squirting inside my mouth and I'm swallowing the tip to get it all. Then I pull back and wipe the spit and come off the side of my mouth discreetly and he's laying there with this cute little grin on his face and I say 'That's what I'm into.' Was that cheesy or what?" "Mmm." "Rob?" "Yeah?" "How you doing there, champ?" "Just fine, baby. I love our little talks." "Me too." "So, talk to you tomorrow?" Rob asks. "Yeah, I'm going out with Muir again tonight, so..." "I'll call late." "Thanks." Eavesdropping This is a simple little story of selfishness, anger, pride and love. No sex in this one. * I'm not an eavesdropper but when my ears start burning, I usually try to find out what's going on. Problem was, at times...I wish I hadn't. It was late and I just got home from my shift. I was a thirty-two year on the job cop getting ready to retire as a patrol sergeant. Now, I was kinda getting excited about retiring; however, my wife, Robyn, didn't seem so keen on the idea. I think she wasn't too sure about having me around underfoot all the time. We had been married going on thirty-one years. I was fifty-three and she was a beautiful fifty-two. For the past thirty years, Robyn has had to live the life of a cops wife subjected to shift work; such as, weekends, graveyards and/or swings, overtime, special duties, training days, travel...it all had to fit in to our marriage. Then, there was the constant worry that something would happen to me, you know, the inherent dangers that come with police work. And it didn't help any that she was a nurse working at one of the local hospitals. Then the kids, let's not forget about the kids. First Janey and then little David named after my brother. God, we loved them both, but...they did take a toll on the more intimate part of our life together. However, we managed to make it all work. Now, the kids are grown and have families of their own. David was a three year vet at one of the larger Orange County city police departments, his wife also a nurse. Hmmm, see a pattern there? I had only three more weeks until I was done with the badge. Oh, I would still be able to carry a gun concealed—us retired cops can do that as long as we qualify, but I would no longer have to slap on the uniform and crawl into a black and white for ten to twelve hours dealing with the crooks, addicts, gangbangers and drunks...and the ever-complaining, un-appreciative public. As I pulled up to the house, I smiled when I noticed my sister's car in the driveway blocking the garage. I always like Trisha. Born with a bubbling personality, she was also one fine woman, almost as sexy as my wife. Both had similar great figures but where Trisha had dark hair, Robyn had lustrous auburn curls. The two of them shared the same emerald green eyes. If there was a fault to be found, it would be Paul, Trisha's lame excuse of a husband. They were going through a rough time of it and their marriage may not survive. Parking next to her car, I walked around the side to enter through the back door. I never liked walking in through the front door after getting off work, kind of a weird habit I developed. When I entered the backyard and strolled to the door, I saw the dining room light was on. The dining room window was open and I could hear the soft sexy voices of Robyn and Trisha, my sis, gabbing away. Hey I thought, this should be interesting and, after all, my ears were on fire. As I moved closer, I overheard them engaged in a heated argument. "You are fucking crazy, sis! If you do this, you might lose everything you love. You may lose Grant. Hell, if he ever finds out...you will lose him." I could hear Trisha admonish my wife. Lose me? Oh fuck, this does not sound good. What the hell is Robyn up to now? Oh, by the way...I am Grant, Grant William Dawson. "I won't lose anything and Grant loves me too much to ever leave me for just a little fling." My wife, Robyn, said this aggressively, but, didn't sound convincing...at least to me. And, Robyn doesn't know me as well as she thinks. If she were to do something stupid, like cheat on me, she would be very surprised what I would do. "Besides Trish, it will be just the one time. I've got to do this. Shit, I'm in my fifties and not getting any younger. I need to know, before my time is up, if a man would still desire me." I heard Trisha snort and say, "Robyn, you are a beautiful woman and Grant is a very handsome man. You are fifty-two and he is fifty-three and you both turn heads whenever you walk into a room. Crap, if I wasn't trying to fix my fucked up marriage, I'd jump at the chance for a man like Grant and I'm fifteen years younger that you. Believe me, if you do this and Grant finds out...and he will...then there will be some extremely happy women out there. Because dear sister, Grant won't put up with your shit. I'm telling you Robyn, you do this, he's history." Hell, this is sounding bad. Would Robyn cheat on me? Has she already fucked another man? Who? I have felt these sensations before, at work. Starts with a coldness, a fear running through you but then begins to evolve into heat, a burning anger that threatens to fly into a rage if you don't get a handle on your emotions. Above all else, I had to keep a tight control on my temper or else people I love would get hurt. As I hid by the window, I heard Trisha continue, "Listen, if Grant finds out about this guy you work with...Jubal isn't it? And, well...I wouldn't want to be in his shoes. You know Grant's temper. Have you done it with him yet?" Jubal? I've heard that name a few times, even met the guy once. He's one of those ER doctors at the same hospital my wife works. Robyn is a registered nurse and has been with Mercy for nearly twenty-five years. This Jubal character showed up about six months ago. The guy comes across as a typical hustler, always playing to the skirts. He probably does pretty well for himself. Oh, he's a looker at a couple of inches past six foot with blue eyes and wavy dark hair and maybe in his late thirties to early forties. Had that easy smile that made me wanta rip off his head. I met him at the hospital awards banquet and was irritated the way he was always hovering around my wife. After the party while on the way home, I mentioned this little observation to Robyn and she just laughed it off. When I pressed the issue, she became angry and wouldn't speak to me for the rest of the night. Pissed me off because I was hoping for a little loving later that night. I might as well have kissed a bottle of liquid nitrogen...would have been warmer than the attitude she gave me. I heard my wife sigh before she said, "No, not yet. We've necked in his car and I even allowed him to feel me up a little but I wouldn't allow him to go any further. I keep fighting these goddamn emotions. He gets me so hot, I...I want to rip his clothes off and jump his bones but then I think of Grant and stop whatever I'm doing. Shit, it's pissed Jubal off a few times, let me tell you. This last time, he threatened to call it off, said I was nothing but a cock tease. I really had to beg him not to give up on me. Jesus, Trish...what's wrong with me? Here I have a wonderful and loving husband who is a terrific lover, and two great kids and I can't get Jubal out of my mind." I heard Robyn groan. "I want him to take me, to fuck my brains out. I feel, that...if I do this thing, you know, go all the way with him, I can get him and this idea that I'm getting to old to have men want me, out of my system." I heard a crunch and looked down. I didn't realize it, but, I had grabbed one of our outdoor rattan chairs and shredded the backing. My knuckles were white as my fists had a death grip on the wood frame. Bits of rattan wood littered the ground. "What was that?" I heard Trisha, her voice concerned, ask Robyn. "I don't know, maybe the cat scratching the furniture again...don't change the subject Trish, what should I do?" I slowly released the chair and let the blood back into my hands as I heard my sister's reply. "Look, Robyn...you obviously have already made up your mind to do this. You just want me to justify it, and I won't. You are being the typically selfish little bitch you have always been when we were growing up. You say you love Grant but you still want to have this fling with that asshole, Jubal. You know this dickhead only wants to pop your panties. He doesn't love you and could care less about your marriage and family. But, god forbid, you don't get what you want. Lord help us all if you grow old without satisfying your itch! Well, listen and you better listen good; I can almost guarantee that if Grant finds out you did this, he will leave you. You know how much he has wanted to move up north, to live in Washington State. The only reason he has stayed here...is you. Well girl, this will give him the motivation." Fucking A! Trisha you are so right, I thought. Maybe this isn't such a bad thing after all. As much as it would kill me to lose Robyn, well...hell, I'd get over the hurt. I love my wife but for the past three months she has been treating me like a leaper. Every time I would try to get intimate, she would feign a headache or was too tired. Three weeks back, I broached the issue and she came unglued. Robyn accused me of every ill that man had ever imposed upon a woman. The list was endless; I didn't understand her, I was too impatient or I lost my temper all the time. I had sex on the brain, I didn't support her, she was nothing more than a sex object. I didn't like her friends, I didn't love her anymore, I no longer found her attractive, I didn't help around the house enough. I was always working, I was never around for the kids, yada, yada, yada. But, while recovering from the pain of losing her...well hell, I could recuperate back on the island. At that exact moment, I realized what I had to do. I quietly move from the window and went back to the front of my soon to be ex-home. I stomped over to the front door and noisily entered the house. "Grant? Is that you honey?" I heard Robyn yell from the kitchen and replied, "Yep, been a long day too." I walked into the kitchen and set my gun belt and keys on the table. I walked over to Trisha and gave her a big squeeze. "Jeez Grant...good to see you too." I looked at her, my eyes moist and said, "This is for being the best sis a guy could ever have." I could see the concern in Trisha's eyes and watched as they suddenly widened with understanding. "Oh no," she whispered. "Oh yes," I softly replied. I walked toward Robyn picking up the gun belt and car keys, Robyn waiting for me to give her a hug and kiss. "Hi honey, how was work?" Robyn asked as I approached. "Tonight was very illuminating," I replied as I strode past her walking out of the kitchen for the bedroom. "Grant?" I could hear the surprise in her voice as I ignored her. Once in the bedroom, I threw my gun belt on the bed and grabbed a suitcase out of the closet. Robyn stepped into the room as I was tossing some clothes and personal items into the bag. "Grant, what's going on...wha...what are you doing?" Her voice quivered, I could feel the fear dripping from her words. "Should be obvious Robyn, I'm packing to leave." My voice was cold. It took everything in me to hold back from lashing out at her. I glanced over at her standing in the doorway. "Look dear, I'm only thinking of you. I'm only in the way for you and Jubal. So, I'm clearing out so you can let him in." "But Gra...Grant, I don't want you to leave. I love you and only you! Please, don't leave." Sobbing, she stood there, her eyes wide with fear. Turning, I stared at her. "Robyn, it is obvious you no longer love me. Hell, you haven't touched me in three months. You pick fights for the slightest reason. Most times, you make me feel like a piece of shit that only wants you around for a good fuck. I thank god the kids are grown and on their own. It will be easier on them and on us. We can split everything down the middle. You can have the house, it's almost paid for. Dear Jubal can move in after I'm gone. Your job will support you so you shouldn't need any of my pension. But, if you need some support, we can work something out." She finally picked up on Jubal's name. "Jubal? I don't love Jubal. Why would I be with him? Trisha stood next to her sister and whispered, "Robyn, he heard us. He heard our conversation." Robyn threw her hands up covering her mouth and said, "Oh god, no...no! Grant, please don't leave me. I love you. I'm sorry, so sorry...I can't live without you. It's all a mistake...please understand." I didn't say anything while I finished packing. Finally, I walked over to the two of them. I glared at my wife, still sobbing. "Robyn, why is it that my sister has more respect for me than my own wife? I'll be staying at my brother's for the next couple of weeks, at least until my retirement kicks in. Then, well...I'm going to take Trisha's advice. They both stared uncomprehending what I meant. "I'm not going to divorce you...why bother. I'm not looking for another wife so why pay an attorney. You have the house but that asshole had better never be around the kids when they visit. After my retirement pension begins, I'm leaving the state. You see, I no longer have any reason to remain in California." I looked at Trisha. "If you and that poor excuse for a husband can't make it, look me up on Orcus Island. Robyn knows the address." I pushed past the women, Robyn crying hysterically. I stopped in the den and retrieved my laptop computer. The last thing I saw was Robyn standing in driveway, her sister holding her as I back out and drove away. Six months later... I waited as the ferry dropped the ramp. A few minutes later, several vehicles and pedestrians disembarked...I was one of the pedestrians. For those who are not familiar with the San Juan Islands of Washington State, Orcus Island was one of the larger of the many islands serviced by the Washington State ferry system. I had just returned from Anacortes, a small town on Fidalgo Island. God, I loved this area. Yeah, I know...it rains a lot. So what! It's gorgeous up here with fresh air and lushes forests. And the fishing, Jesus Christ himself would love fishing here. My folks had a place on the island that has been in the family for generations. My sister was living there now, my brother still in L.A. He has another ten years before he can retire from the LAPD. The house, built of stone and brick, has weathered many storms and the great Alaskan earthquake of 65. I leisurely strode to the old beat-up Jeep 4x4 left on parking lot of the Orcus Hotel Bed and Breakfast just up the hill from the ferry landing. For a fee, and it helps being friends with the owners, they allow me to use the parking lot. Winding down the road from the hotel, I headed off to the old homestead passing a few farms and horse ranches on the way. The house overlooked the cliffs on the leeside of the island and promoted peace, tranquility and no visitors. On the way, my mind drifted to Robyn. I missed her so much. I thought the pain would have subsided by now, but, I was lonely without her. Two months after I left, Trisha had written a lengthily post telling me what happened after I left. Robyn had sunk into a deep depression but with her sister's help and that of the kids, she was able to get counseling. Trisha also wrote about dear old Jubal. Seems someone threatened to sue the hospital for destruction of my marriage and the fraternization of one of their doctors with a married nurse. The six-figure check created a trust for my grandkids education. And Jubal? Seems he was terminated for cause. After an in-house investigation, the hospital discovered Jubal was the reason for several other marriage break-ups. Plus, an unknown source informed the hospital security to check Jubal's locker and the trunk of his car. Their search uncovered a large amount of bottles containing narcotics and other prescription drugs. Trisha wrote that Jubal denied any knowledge and had been set up. He is still in court fighting the charges. She also mentioned Jubal had attempted to see Robyn on several occasions. Robyn had made Jubal aware she wanted nothing to do with him; however, he kept trying to get something going again. Then, Jubal mysteriously stopped any further endeavors to contact her. Trisha mentioned that a certain Los Angeles police officer was notified of the good doctors continual harassment of my wife and paid the doctor a visit. I couldn't keep from smiling when I read that. You don't piss off my brother, David. My heart caught in my throat, the last page was written in Robyn's handwriting. *********** "Dear Sweet Grant, I won't ask your forgiveness, I don't deserve it. Please believe me when I say how sorry I am for the hurt I caused you. As Trisha wrote, I have been getting counseling trying to find out why I was so screwed up. How could I even think of another man when I had you? The counselor believes I was scared. You were retiring, we were both in our fifties and the kids were on their own. Instead of looking at your retiring as a new chapter in our life, I instead saw it as the final chapter. You never did anything wrong, it was never you. I was the one at fault. I pushed you away those many months after I realized you were actually going to retire. Deep down, I was blaming you for what I perceived would be a major change to our life style. I was not ready to give up, to be put out to pasture. When Jubal arrived and began to pay attention to me, I was thrilled. He knew this and worked on it. I have to admit, his attention and our little get-togethers were exciting. It was like sneaking around, like I had a secret over you. I am so, so very sorry. If anything else, know this. I never let him have me. If you hadn't heard Trisha and I talking, yes...I might have. And, I would have regretted it the rest of my life. Husband, thank you for eavesdropping that night. My sweet husband, for we are still married, I love you more than life itself and I miss you terribly. But, I understand I hurt you deeply and wish not to cause any further pain. Should you decide to divorce me, I will not contest it. I know you are happy on the island and will not bother you any further. My darling, just know I love you with all my heart. All I wish is for your happiness and contentment. Please take care of yourself, All my Love, Robyn ************* After reading her letter, I cried. I should have stayed and worked it out. We could have gotten marriage counseling or something but I went ballistic, my pride injured. Two months after the letter, I called my sister and asked how everything was going between her and her asshole of a husband. Trisha laughed and said in that sweet sexy voice, "Hey Grant, boy have I missed you. Paul and I were able to find a good marriage counselor, thank you very much, and we're doing good. And, no...there will be no reason for me to look you up." I laughed and we talked for a few minutes over mundane topics until Trisha giggled and said, "Grant, Robyn's doing well. She's okay. I know you've been dying to ask. She found a very good counselor, a psychologist who helped her to work out her issues. You know Grant; she doesn't blame you for leaving her. She loves you and misses you very much and you need to talk to her. You never took the time to talk to her, Grant. Please, you have to talk to her." I was stunned, she was right. I never spoke to Robyn, never tried to talk or work it out. I choked up and said, "Uh, shit...I'm sorry Trisha, gotta go." I never called back. Since then, two months had passed. And now, here I was on this isolated road, heading home to my lonely life wishing I had the guts to contact Robyn, if nothing else to hear her voice. I pulled up front and walked around back. I still had that weird hang-up about walking through the front door. Josey, my beautiful and wickedly twisted sister was busy welding her latest in a series of art pieces. I smiled as her hooded face disappeared among a blaze of sparks. "Josey," I screamed. "JOSEY!" She glanced up and shut off her arc weld electrode. Lifting her face shield she smiled and said, "Bout time you got home little brother, you have a visitor waiting in the study." Eavesdropping "Who is it," I said but she just looked at me with that evil grin of hers, dropped her shield and went back to her sculpture. Before I turned away, she glanced at me, held up a thickly gloved hand and flipped me off. Laughing, I went in the house. As I headed to the study, I saw something that froze me on the spot. Luggage piled by the front door. Not just any luggage, but Robyn's. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her luggage. I started sobbing, my eyes so thick with tears, I couldn't see. "Grant?" I couldn't move. I was unable to turn toward the voice I so desperately needed to hear. My senses became aware of that wonderful scent of my favorite perfume. A delicate finger touched my shoulder. "Grant, I am so..." Robyn never had the chance to finish whatever she was going to say. I whirled around and seized her, my arms wrapping tightly around her lithe frame. I buried my head into her shoulders and soft auburn hair bawling like a baby. Choking, I kept repeating, "Robyn, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry for abandoning you, we should have worked it out. My goddamn pride..." She stopped me with a mere fingertip. "Shhhh, you have nothing to be sorry about, my love. We both made mistakes." She stroked my hair while my shoulders heaved from my blubbering. With both hands, she lifted my face kissing me on the lips. "God, I have missed you so much. Please forgive me for the pain I caused you." She wiped away my tears staring into my eyes with those gorgeous emerald eyes of hers, also wet from crying. I held her, not wanting to ever let go. "Robyn, we both need forgiveness. I should have never left you. Can you forgive me?" "Ahem, maybe you two should find a room?" We both stared at the source of those words finding my older sister leaning against the door frame with that boyish grin of hers. She walked over and hugged the both of us. "Welcome home Robyn." I looked at Robyn. "Home?" "Where my husband is, I will be." Robyn smiled and, standing on her toes, kissed me on the forehead. "When you left, I fell into a pretty bad depression but, with help and counseling, I learned you are the most important part of my life, that I can't live without you...so here I am, that is if you'll have me." I ran my fingers gently down the side of her face and said, "Darling, I love you so much." I released her long enough to grab her luggage and head up the grand staircase, Robyn following behind. As we advanced up the stairs, I heard Josey laugh and say, "about time little brother, about fucking time!" Eavesdropping To the reader: I'm trying something a little different here and according to my editor it came out pretty good. That's one person's opinion. Let me know what you think. But I do hope you enjoy it. If not, oh well. There isn't any sex in here so that's why I'm submitting it under Non-erotic. It does contain a cheating spouse but that isn't the heart of the story, it's just the catalyst. Well, you'll see. Thanks to jo for editing. Any errors you find are mine and not because of poor editing. © Copyright February 2013, by the author. ******** His story is just like that of a thousand other men with screwed up lives, sad, and lacking a happy ending. His old life ended and his new life began: A new life so completely different from the first that nobody could have ever imagined it. His name is Phil, not Phillip, Phil. At one time he was married, had kids, a good job, and all the other trappings of an average suburban family man. Now, he doesn't. His job is gone; he just walked away without saying anything. His wife doesn't know where he is, and that's the way he wants it. But the most troublesome part was that he walked away from his two little babies. "I hope I didn't screw up their lives like I did my own," he lamented over a bottle of cheap wine. The last time he saw his house was years ago and it was still standing, but he couldn't will himself to go in. He turned and walked away with the intention of going somewhere he could drink himself to death. He got the idea from an old Nicholas Cage movie. "If I've got nothing to live for anymore then drinking myself to death is as good a way to go as any. Besides, I don't have the guts to put a gun in my mouth." You see Phil is one of the many homeless men we pass on the streets every day: Nameless inhabitants of alleyways and abandoned cars and cardboard boxes out by the dumpster. We see them and avert our eyes because they pollute our streets and sidewalks. We purposely ignore them because with just a little turn of bad luck we could be in their shoes. Phil thought the same thing at one time, in his previous life. Now he doesn't think about too much of anything, except where he's going to get something to eat or his next bottle of wine. Phil's life was as normal as normal could be, then he did something to screw it all up, he let his curiosity get the better of him. Snooping into things he didn't understand cost him everything and it all started with his wife Cheryl. Phil and Cheryl have known each other since high school. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known; tall, slender, wavy brown hair, all the right stuff in all the right places, and way more intelligent than him. Oh Phil's no dummy. He earned a college degree like everyone else but Cheryl breezed through college and now just seemed to absorb every bit of information from the world around her. "A beautiful woman with a magnificent mind is just about the sexiest combination on the planet," Phil told his friends on occasion. The one thing that his wife has that is not attractive, at least in Phil's way of thinking is a stubborn streak. Once she got something in her mind it would take the finger of God poking her in the backside to get her to change. It's only happened once and Phil had to live through hell for three weeks until she calmed down. Even with her stubborn streak he's loved her since their first date. They also have two daughters, Kim and Sam. They lived in a nice neighborhood and did all the neighborly stuff that good neighbors do. They had parties and barbecues and were always going out with friends and associates from work. They went to movies and the theater and never once missed any of their daughter's school events. They were your boringly average, archetypal people down the street. One of the things that Cheryl carried over from her college days was membership in a small group of friends from her sorority that Phil affectionately called the 'Gang of Seven.' All seven women were members of the same sorority Tau Kappa Alpha (TKA) and have remained close friends over the years. Once a month they all got together at one of their houses and had a party. Men weren't invited. Phil always thought that they sat around comparing husbands and talking trash about them but no one really knew for sure. Cheryl would only smile when he brought up the subject, never saying a word about what they did or talked about. He did know that they would drink a dozen bottles of wine in the night. Phil's even had to drive one or two of the gang home afterwards. It all seemed innocent enough and the husbands thought it was a good way for them to have a 'guy's night out' at the same time. This party is where Phil's life took a left hand turn. The Gang of Seven planned to meet at Phil and Cheryl's house one Saturday night and as usual Cheryl not-so-gently hinted for Phil to make himself scarce. After helping set out the food and drinks, lots of drinks, he kissed her tenderly and told her to behave herself. He got that 'yeah, right' look as he walked down the street to meet up with his friend Jerry. They had planned to go play pool and have a few drinks, you know, do guy stuff, but when he got to Jerry's house his wife told him that he had been called to work for some emergency. She looked a little pissed and since Phil didn't want to overstay his welcome, he just left and went back home. The gang was starting to arrive and since he wasn't welcome he knew he couldn't go back in the house. Instead he went around back and into the basement. His basement was his man cave. It wasn't finished, just bare concrete floor and cinderblock walls, but he had built a huge workbench in the middle of the room and had every imaginable tool covering one wall. Oh, there was also a washer and drier down there too so maybe it wasn't totally his place. Phil enjoyed one particular hobby since he was a boy and that was target shooting. His Dad turned him onto guns when he bought his first .22 caliber rifle for his eleventh birthday. His Dad taught him everything about safety and maintenance and even signed him up for his first competitive match. Over the years he's fired competitively and won a number of trophies. His Dad also taught him how to reload his own ammunition. His Dad also insisted on buying brass shells so they could be reloaded after a day at the range. Some of their best father-son talks occurred when they would sit in the garage and reload all the shells. Believe it or not, it's a lot cheaper to gather up your spent brass to reload than to leave money sitting on the ground by using aluminum or steel shells. So he turned on the overhead light and gathered up the supplies to start reloading the bucket full of 9 millimeter shells he used in the last match. Overhead he could hear the gang stomping around and laughing as they ate and talked. The little devil in him, actually Cheryl always called it the little smart-ass in him, wondered what they were talking about. He could hear bits and pieces of what they said through the floor but he wanted to hear everything. He looked around to see if he could figure out a better way to hear. As he looked up he saw one of the heat registers in the duct above and remembered when he cut it in. The house was build with heat on the upper floor only and he wanted a little bit of heat for the times he was in the basement working, so he added a little register to the existing duct work overhead. It just so happened that there was another register in the floor above exactly over the one he had cut in. He knew that if he opened up the one over his head he would be able to hear everything that went on in the living room. With a sly little smile he stood on a box and opened it. He could see the light from above and the voices came in so clear he felt like he was right in the room with them. His smile got wider and wider as he sat and did his work. The members of the Gang of Seven were a diverse lot. They all went to the same college and pledged the same sorority but their personalities and their post-college lives were vastly different. Cheryl was a working mother with two kids, a dog, and a handsome husband (her words) who loved her to death. She's worked off and on since graduating, mostly off after the kids were born, but now she worked full-time again working for a real estate management group. She also seemed to act as the social coordinator for the Gang's monthly parties. Cheryl's roommate for her two years at TKA was Beth. The best word that describes Beth is slut: A beautiful slut, but a slut nonetheless. She's twice divorced. She said they cheated on her but everyone suspects it was the other way around. She never seemed to be without a boyfriend, sometimes two or three at a time, some married, some a whole lot younger. The one thing they all had in common was money. If they had money to spend on her then she would spread for them. JoAnne was the jock of the group: All-American Soccer player and rowed for the 8-woman crew. She was also someone you wouldn't want to piss off. She married the local television weatherman and had her first child last year. Having a baby didn't hurt her figure one bit. She's still tall and muscular with magnificent legs and the tightest ass anyone's ever seen. She's also a fitness instructor at the local gym. Sometimes at six in the morning you would see her out on the lake in her single scull doing her morning laps. Lillie was the intellectual member and looked every bit the part: Short bob haircut, dark glasses, hardly any makeup, and the most dull, drab attire outside of Goodwill. She's the only one who continued her education and got her PhD and now is a high level manager for an insurance company. Dull is the best word to describe Lillie but when you talked to her you could sense a smoldering sensuality behind her intellectual mask. There must have been something there because her husband constantly had a smile on his face and they did have one child. Sue was the only full-time mom of the bunch. When she stood up straight her blond locks barely reached the five foot mark. When soaking wet she was maybe a hundred pounds. Her high pitched soprano voice sounded almost child-like but with five children of her own she's anything but child-like. Everybody says she's 'cute as a button,' and for as true as that is she's also the most down to earth and genuinely lady-like woman in the bunch. She's a person anyone, man or woman, would like to have as a friend. Maureen was a difficult woman to describe. She was a large, imposing woman but with a kind and gentle heart. She's not fat or anything like that, it's just that she's almost six feet tall and as strong as any man. Maybe it had something to do with twenty plus years of Judo. In college she was know as 'The Enforcer.' Now all the kids in her first grade class just call her Ms. Maureen. Her two daughters are going to be just like her when they grow up. And you can't call her husband anything but 'sir'. He's a state police officer and towers over Maureen. She's very likable and it would be a good idea to call either her or her husband should you ever get into a sticky situation. The final member of the Gang of Seven was April. April always seemed to blend into the background whenever she was with the others. She seemed shy at first glance but once she warmed up to you she turned on her wit and charm and the fascinating woman inside came out with a bang. She was almost as pretty as Beth and Cheryl physically but just hearing to her husky voice and watching her eyes bore deep into your soul made her by far the most sensual of the group. And the fact that she has the most voluptuous body of the bunch made her an absolute delight to be around. Men melt whenever she looks at them. Oh, and at one time the Gang of Seven used to be the Gang of Eight but one member, Stephanie, succumbed to breast cancer three years ago. Cheryl said that at each gathering they drink a toast to Stephanie and remind each other to do their monthly breast self exams. For the first hour the conversation was about families and work and household stuff. They ate and drank and laughed about the stupid things their kids and husbands did. There was no mention of anybody's sex life. That was a relief because deep down inside Phil always felt a little insecure around some of the husbands. They were ex-jocks, or big shot lawyers, or successful businessmen. Phil designed software. He was glad that Cheryl and the Gang weren't engaging in a comparison of penis sizes: Again, another of those areas where he was hopelessly average. The next hour turned to gossip. The drinks were obviously doing their jobs because there were occasional explosions of raucous laughter and a whole lot more colorful words most of which would make a sailor blush. He did learn that the little old lady across the street had a boyfriend that liked to walk around the house in the nude. He also learned that one of the Gang of Seven might be getting married again. Beth, the only divorced woman of the group who had eaten up and spit out two husbands, announced that she met a very wealthy divorced banker from out of town and they were heating up the sheets on a regular basis. "It's only a matter of time before he becomes so dependant on my pussy that he has to marry me." Then she started into a chorus of 'Money Makes the World go Round," from the movie Cabaret. Beth is such a slut. He listened and learned about his daughter's elementary school teacher, the Episcopal minister from over on Grove Street, the blond that moved in next door to Lillie, and how the man behind the meat counter down at the Food Lion tenderized his meat. That one earned the loudest of the raucous laughter. There were lots of oohs and aahs when they talked about the new FedEx delivery man, even an "I'd let him handle my packages" from Cheryl. Phil made a note to ask Cheryl about Mr. FedEx hunk. It was well into the third hour, and he had long finished reloading the dozen boxes of shells, and was just sitting back listening to the bullshit from the living room when Beth brought out a game. He has known these women for years so he knew everyone's voice pretty well. He just sat back envisioning the goings on up above. "It's a game called Girls Night Out," Beth said somewhat slurring her words. "It's a bit like Truth or Dare but more truth than dare. There's a box of cards and we pick one from the box and answer it, after reading the question out loud of course. We have to be completely honest with our answer and if the others don't believe the answer then the person with the question has to chug down a shot of whatever they're drinking, unless they can prove it somehow. There are some cards with a symbol on the top corner that means we all answer it, but in that case we write down the answers and throw them in a bowl. One of us pulls them out one at a time and reads them. We all have to guess who belongs to which answer and if we can't guess then we all take another drink, all except for the owner of the answer." "What's the fun in that?" JoAnne answered also sounding a bit slurred. "All the questions are sexually oriented," Beth said before breaking out in laughter. "ALL RIGHT!" the entire gang screamed. I could hear hands slapping and people rearranging the room. "I think we're going to need more wine for this," Cheryl announced. "I'll open two more bottles and get some crackers." "Forget the crackers," Lillie announced. "Just bring the wine and a couple of your special smokes." "Okay," Cheryl answered back. "Light a couple candles and I'll be right back." Phil had forgotten about that. Way back in her sorority days Cheryl used to smoke a lot of weed. He smoked too but only occasionally at parties and the like. Ever since they've been married they've abstained from the illegal stuff, keeping up appearances in the neighborhood and all. Hell, he didn't even know that she had any. He made another mental note to find her stash and talk to her about it. Everyone was back in the living room and seated quietly drinking or lighting up. It only took a few minutes before the telltale aroma of the herbs floated down to the basement. Phil leaned back in his chair and let the college memories flow back in. "Okay, is everybody ready?" Beth asked. "Yeah, go ahead, I've nothing to hide," Maureen laughed. "Okay then, you're first," Beth said. "Oh my God!" Maureen screeched. "I can't answer this." "Go on, you said you didn't have anything to hide," Sue warbled. "Okay, here goes," Maureen started reading. "Do you spit or swallow?" Everybody laughed and clapped and taunted her. "Go ahead, answer." Cheryl mocked. "I, uh, I, swallow," Maureen said sheepishly. "There, are you happy?" There was more laughter and a lot of random teasing. Again Phil smiled listening to the revelations from above making another mental note of to smile whenever he saw Maureen. His eavesdropping was turning out to be a lot of fun. "Your turn April," Beth said. "Oh, God, this is so embarrassing, "April mumbled. "Here's the question. Have you ever kissed another woman?" "Yeah, babe, answer that one," Beth challenged. "Yes I have, but I'm not going to go into details," April replied with a sound of resolve in her voice. "It was Lorissa Alberson in our senior year after that big party over at Delta house," Sue announced to everyone. "You and Lorissa spent the entire evening swapping spit and fumbling under each other's clothes before disappearing upstairs for the night. A couple of us snuck up later and listened at your door. We heard you two moaning and giggling. You bet you kissed another woman." "You bitch!" April spit at her. "You weren't supposed to say anything about that." The gang broke into riotous laughter, all at April's expense. There was the sound of glasses clinking and a bigger cloud of smoke poured through the register. It took a while for everyone to come back down to earth. "Okay, Sue, you're next," Beth said. Sue cleared her throat and started reading. "Who gave you the strongest orgasm? If it was your current partner describe what he did to get you there. Well that one's easy; it was Leon Parkman back in college. You guys remember him, the wide receiver on the football team." "The tall black guy?" Maureen asked. "Yep, that's him. He had the fattest cock I've ever seen. It wasn't just long but it was as big around as my wrist. When he pounded that thing into me I just hung on for dear life and had orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. I passed out before he finished a couple times just from the sheer ecstasy of it all. Man, he was something." "Something better than Arnie?" Beth asked. "Well, don't get me wrong, Arnie's good and all that but he's no Leon Parkman. If Arnie could do what Leon did I wouldn't be here with you right now. I'd be on my back under Arnie holding on for dear life and screaming my head off." "Okay, another mental note about Arnie," Phil thought. "Not all that good in the sack. I'm feeling better already." "Okay, it's your turn Lillie," Beth said. "Let's see," Lillie mumbled. "This one has the little 'all play' symbol. So I guess I read the question and everyone writes down their answer and throw it in, what, how about eating the last chip there JoAnne and hand me that bowl. Okay, here's the question. Since you've been born, how many different men have you sex with?" Phil smiled because he knew Cheryl's answer. They met in high school and haven't been apart since. They went through high school and college and married just after graduating. He got her cherry and she got his. Phil had been with no one else and he knew that neither had Cheryl. "Okay is everybody in?" Lillie asked. "Now I'll read the answers. "The first one says 'hundreds'. That's easy, Beth. She's the biggest slut in the group." Eavesdropping Everybody laughed and Beth thanked everyone over and over. "Here's the next. 'Eleven.' Wow that could be just about any of us." "It's Sue," Cheryl announced. "How do you know," Sue asked. "You told me when we were preparing for your wedding that you've been with ten men and were worried that Arnie would find out. You never told him about all your previous boyfriends. So with that ten and Arnie, that makes eleven. Or should we count Leon Parkman as two?" "Wow, I forgot I told you that. I seem to be forgetting a lot of things tonight. I must have something to do with this stuff we're smoking. Yep, that's my answer." Everybody applauded and laughed. "Here's the next answer," Lillie said. "'Five.' Who's that?" The all mumbled and talked and the consensus was JoAnne. "Nope, not me," she said with a smile. "Now everybody's got to take a drink." "It's me," Lillie confessed. "I've only been with four men before my Harold. I saved the best for last." "Aw, that's cute," Sue said. "That's three down, four more to go," Lillie announced. "Here's the next one. 'Twenty plus.' Okay, now who is the next biggest slut here?" They discussed the merits of JoAnn or April or Sue and came to an agreement on Sue. "Nope, not me," Sue announced. "It's April. She went through the entire swim team at college, or so I heard." "Sue, you promised you'd never tell anyone about that," April cried. "Jason thinks he was the only one from the team I was with. If he ever found out that I did them all he'd divorce me. Please don't tell anyone." "Hmmm, another mental note about Jason and Sue," Phil thought. "It's the quiet ones that you've got to worry about." Everybody assured April that they would keep her secret and in turn they agreed to keep everybody's secrets. "Three more to go," Lillie announced. "This answer says 'two.' Now which goodie-two-shoes is it? Maureen or JoAnne or Cheryl." They all talked about the relative merits of each and came to a conclusion it was Maureen. "Nope, not me," Maureen announced sounding smug. "Everybody take a drink but it's got to be either Cheryl or JoAnne." Phil sat back smiling because he knew it was JoAnne. He knew Cheryl and it wasn't her. "Cheryl, it's you isn't it?" Beth asked. "Phil and that guy from your work." "WHAT?" Phil said sitting upright in his chair. "Damn it Beth, no one's supposed to know about Richard," Cheryl said sounding quite perturbed. "Now everyone knows. What if Phil finds out? It'd kill him and I'd be out of here on my ass so fast I wouldn't know what hit me. Do you want to take me and the kids in when that happens?" Beth replied, "Cheryl baby, I'd be glad to have you as a roommate again, but you're going to have to make yourself scarce when my moneybags fella comes over." "Oh my God," Sue gasped. "You had an affair?" "No, not you," Maureen said. "Of all of us I would have thought that you would be the least likely one to cheat. My God, what were you thinking? Phil's such a sweetheart." "Just shut up all of you," Cheryl shouted. "I made a mistake and Phil doesn't know about it, so please, please don't say anything to anybody, least of all your husbands. I love Phil and did something that would just kill him if he ever found out. I made a mistake, a huge mistake that I'm going to have to live with for the rest of my life. It was a moment of weakness on my part and it will never, ever happen again." "Yeah a moment of weakness my ass," Beth chided. "You spent that whole week in Richard's log cabin at the lake and didn't come up for air until the day before Phil came home from that training session in Baltimore. Yeah, some moment of weakness." "Beth, shut the fuck up," Cheryl screamed. "Everybody just shut up!" There was the sound of someone running from the room and the bathroom door slamming. Then sobbing. "Boy, I think we got in a little over our heads tonight," Maureen said. "What in the hell is in these cigarettes anyway?" "What do we do now?" Sue asked politely. "What can we do," Beth said. "She screwed up, Phil doesn't know, she has to live with the pain of her indiscretion, and we all have to keep our mouths shut. I think the party's pretty much over. JoAnne, go see about Cheryl and the rest of us let's clean up the mess." Phil's body was numb but somehow he managed to walk over underneath the bathroom to listen. All he heard was sobbing and JoAnne saying something to console her. He couldn't make out the words she said though. Water ran in the sink and the toilet flushed and then the door opened. He moved back to the register under the living room, standing in the middle of the basement, and waited. Nobody said anything, they just cleaned up quietly. The sound of sniffling came through the register. He turned suddenly at a noise outside the window and saw Sue putting a bag of trash in the trash can. She saw him standing under the light and he saw her holding the trash can lid. Her expression turned to horror. He just moved one finger up in front of his lips holding it there as his head shook back and forth saying 'no'. She understood but still looked devastated. The moving around up above stopped and everyone gathered together to say goodnight. "Listen Cheryl," Maureen said. "You're secret's safe with us. I can only imagine what my husband would do if he found I did something like that. We're sorority sisters and would never do anything to hurt another sister. You can count on us." "She's right," Beth said. "I've screwed up enough in my lifetime to know where you're at now. We won't judge you. We love you. If there's anything I can do just let me know. And from now on I'll keep my games, and my big mouth shut. By the way, can you get me some of that grass? It's fucking fabulous. Goodnight babe." Everybody hugged and said their goodbyes. Sue was last. She said, "Cheryl, I'm sorry for everything that happened tonight. If you need anything please come see me, don't go to Beth, she'll just get you in more trouble. I'll do anything I can to help. And that goes for Phil too. I love you both like my own family and don't want to see either of you hurt. Please talk to me before you do anything. Okay?" Her words were intended for both Cheryl and Phil. The last car pulled out of the driveway leaving Cheryl upstairs sobbing and Phil downstairs in shock. He didn't know what to do. His mind wasn't working properly. He started to shake and his mind went blank. Phil was sitting on the bench at the bus stop and had no memory of how he got there or where he'd been. It was three a.m. and the sign to the side of the bench said the last bus went by at midnight. He didn't remember seeing the bus. He didn't even recognize where he was. Across the street was a little diner that had a sign in the window saying it was open 24-hours a day. He walked over, plopped himself down in a booth, and ordered a cup of coffee. He sat there nursing the vile brew until the sun started to peek through the window. His mind was starting to work again. "I must have shut down after everybody left the party," he thought. He thought about the confession he heard and was just as devastated then as he was when Cheryl spoke those words. He didn't know how long it went on but he was crying into his hands when he felt the hand on his shoulder. "Excuse me sir, but is there a problem?" The police officer stood beside him trying his best to look sympathetic but he just looked hulking, mean, and not somebody Phil wanted to talk to right then. "No, officer," he lied. "Just a little..." He choked on his words. "...problem at home." "Can I take you somewhere sir, maybe back home?" "I..." "Sir, have you been drinking?" "No. I'm as sober as a judge, unfortunately. Just a little domestic problem officer." "Can I see some id?" The officer held out his hand and Phil gave him his driver's license. The officer walked over to the counter, all the time keeping an eye on the distraught man, and talked into his radio for a few minutes. After some back and forth that Phil couldn't hear he came back and gave him his license back. "Mr. Harclerode, we've had a couple calls about you. It seems you're missing and a lot of people are worried about you. Your wife said you didn't come home Saturday night and someone from your work called to say you never showed up to work on Monday. You've got a lot of people worried about you. How about I take you down to the precinct station and let you call home?" "What day is it?" He asked looking out the window at the sunrise over the Texaco station across the street. "Where am I?" The officer sat in the booth across from him and smiled. "It's Thursday and you're in Mount Joy. You've been gone since Saturday night. Where've you been?" "I don't remember. The last thing I remember was being in the basement of my house when..." "When what sir?" "When my world ended," he said solemnly. The cop sat back and just looked at Phil wondering what kind of nut case he'd found. With as sympathetic a look as he could muster he said, "Come on. I'll take you to the hospital and see if you've got some kind of an injury of something. Maybe you ate some bad mushrooms or something. Come on." Phil walked with him out to the cruiser hanging his head looking at the pavement. The officer opened the back door and stood aside. Phil just stood there wondering what to do when he remembered something in his pants pocket. "Uh, officer, could you hold this for me please?" Phil took a 9 millimeter Glock handgun out of his pocket, checked the safety, ejected the clip and handed it over to him. To say the cop was stunned was an understatement. "Where'd you get this?" He asked taking the gun and placing it in the lockbox on the front seat. "It's mine," He mumbled standing there. "I have a permit to carry it in my wallet if you want to see it." "No, that's all right, but I'm going to have to pat you down before you get in the car. Standard procedure, that's all." The cop patted Phil down and didn't find any more weapons. After he shut the back door with Phil in the back seat, he shook his head and got in. Thirty minutes later Phil was in a little alcove at the emergency room with the officer standing beside him and a doctor looking him over. The doctor ordered CT scans and x-rays and all sorts of blood work that he endured over the next two and a half hours. When Phil got back to the little alcove the officer was gone. He sat there in silence wondering what he was going to do next. He had nothing to go back to. His wife was no longer his. His children... "Oh my God, my children," he lamented. "What am I going to do about my girls?" As he sat there wondering about his life the doctor came in. "Well Mr. Harclerode the good news is we didn't find anything physically wrong; no injuries, no head trauma, nothing in the blood work, you're normal as normal can be. But something caused your missing days. Do you remember if anything stressful happened before the police found you?" Phil was silent for a long time. He didn't want to think about what happened; he just wanted to get away from there. "I... She... I can't talk about it. I no longer have a wife." "Did she die? What happened?" "No, she's still alive but I found out something that destroyed me. I'll never..." He choked up and stopped. "Sir, I think I understand. Just so you know, we contacted your wife and she's on her way here now. When she arrives I'll have a talk with her because I want you to stay here for a couple days just for observation. We can't find a reason you blanked out. You might be perfectly all right going home but I'd rather be on the safe side and have you stay here with us for a while. So just lay back and rest and we'll see if we can find you a room. As soon as your wife arrives I'll let her know where you are." The doctor patted Phil on the arm as he left. Phil waited until the doctor was out of sight and walked out the emergency room door. He started to shake and his mind went blank. Phil drank the awful tasting cerveza thinking about the oppressive Mexican heat and the empty pit in his soul. It was unbearable. He just sat at the little cantina with his head on his arms, softly crying. His life ended a year ago and now he's alone sitting at a little table pouring some malodorous bile down his throat from a little brown bottle without a label. A shadow fell over the table covering the tear stained tablecloth and the nasty beer. Phil looked up. "Hi Phil, can I sit down?" The shadow belonged to Cheryl. He just sat there in his half drunken state and stared up at her. He didn't even have enough energy to be nasty to her. Waving his hand he motioned for her to take the other chair all the while continuing to stare down at the table. "Phil, I'm sorry. Sue told me you overheard everything. I never meant to hurt you but I know that I did. If it means anything, I'm just as devastated as you are, maybe more. I committed a mortal sin and destroyed something so wonderful, something that meant everything to me. I hurt you and probably destroyed our marriage. No matter how much I wish I could I can't undo what I did. Phil I made the biggest mistake of my life and will live with it on my conscience for the rest of my life. Regardless of what happens now I just want you to know this: I've always loved you and always will. I'll never abandon you. You and I will always be together in spite of my stupidity. I can't lose you, I'd die. Phil, I'm here to take you home. You've been gone for over a year now and everybody wants you to come back. Kim and Sam miss you something terrible, and so do I. I'm sorry for the things that happened and if you come back I promise to make it all up to you. I love you and only you for now and for always. Please?" They sat without talking letting the words sink into their pores. His mind wouldn't respond. The empty pit in his soul opened up to swallow him. He started to shake and his mind went blank. The sound of seagulls nudged him awake. He sat up to find that he was sitting on a dock looking out over the ocean, which one he didn't know. A seagull was stealing the last bits of whatever he was eating and Phil gave him a quick smack on the beak. The bird complained mightily as he flew off the pier only to land on a piling looking down waiting for the next opportunity to steal his food. "Dirty, stinking, rotten, bird!" He spit back at he ugly scavenger. He sat there looking around. Nothing looked familiar. There were fishermen down the way sitting on ice chests with their lines in the water. There were sailboats off shore gliding across the water pushed by gentle winds. Women in bikinis walked on the white sand down below. He was at the shore but had no memory of where he was or how he got there. Looking down at the breadcrumbs and empty wine bottle he tried to remember anything. He couldn't, but something in the back of his mind said that was a good thing. With nothing else to do he got up and walked. The more he walked the more familiar things felt. He saw a liquor store that he recognized because of the giant ludicrous hand painted sign saying 'Discount Liquor.' He passed a park and in his mind's eye saw an old wino sleeping on a bench. The more he looked at the bench the more familiar the character became. He walked by a storefront window and saw a derelict old man staring back at him. He stopped and stared. So did the old derelict. He moved one hand to his chin and rubbed and so did the old derelict. The old derelict in the window was him, his own reflection. He moved closer and reached out to touch his reflection. He was the wino he saw passed out on the park bench. He was the old derelict in the window. He was.... Lost. As he walked he saw places and things that he recognized, most he didn't. He passed one building that looked familiar and stopped again. The sign over the door said 'Moonlight Mission.' It felt somewhat familiar. For some reason unknown to him he opened the door and went inside. "Hi, Phil," the man behind the counter said. "Your usual bed?" He just stared at the man. He didn't know the man but the man seemed to know him. He looked around and bits and pieces of everything seemed familiar, but bits and pieces didn't fit together to make something solid. He stood there confused, not knowing what to do, what to say to the man. "Phil how'd you like the executive suite tonight?" the man asked. "You can have a shower and we'll wash your clothes. Nobody's in there tonight and you need a bath. Come on, I'll unlock it for you." He followed the man and found himself in a tiny room with a bed and a bathroom. The man handed him a paper bag with toiletries to clean himself up with. The man said "goodnight" and closed the door as he left. Phil sat on the bed and looked around. Memories were coming back rapidly. He knew he was in Miami. He knew he was in his usual sleeping place, except he wasn't on a cot in the room with forty other homeless men, he had one of the isolation rooms. He remembered finding three half eaten sandwiches in the dumpster behind the Subway last night and feasting on ham and cheese, and salami. That must have been what the seagulls were trying to steal. He remembered Cheryl. He felt pain. He just sat there remembering. Then he took his clothes off, put them in the paper bag, set it outside the door, and took a shower. He shaved too. He couldn't remember when the last time he shaved, but judging by the mess on his face it had been a while. His onetime wonderful life came alive in his head while he showered. And so did all the mess. When the image of his children flashed he froze under the flowing water. "I have two baby daughters," he said out loud. "I wonder..." He couldn't complete the sentence. Sobs racked his body rescuing him from the indomitable pain the memories brought with them. Memories of his previous life came back from time to time but his life now mostly consisted of searching through dumpsters for food or begging people for spare change to get a bottle of wine and sleeping wherever he could find a warm, dry spot. These invading memories haunted him usually just before sleep. Jumbled images of a beautiful brown haired woman and two kids, his kids, and working in a big bright office; images of a home and friends and a man and woman having sex at a cabin by the lake. There was always pain involved in the images but one or two bottles of wine usually washed them away. When he stumbled out of the bathroom clean again, he crawled in bed and pulled the blanket over his head, shutting out the world full of haunting images and all its pain. Sleep would be his refuge for a while. He bolted from his sleep at the sound of the alarm. It was morning and the alarm signaled time for everybody to leave the mission. He found his clothes inside the door cleaned and pressed and put them on. They were ragged and contained a lot of holes but at least they smelled better. As he passed by the counter he saw the man who gave him the room with the bath last night. The man smiled and said, "Uh, Phil. You've got a visitor," and pointed to a woman sitting on the bench in the shadows in the corner. She stood and walked toward him. She was tall and beautiful with streaks of grey in her hair and the etched lines of crow's feet at her eyes. Her smile was beautiful, her eyes familiar. Cheryl. "Hi, Phil," she said taking his hand in hers. "I found you again. It's taken me ten years but I found you. Would you like to go get something to eat?" His stomach growled a response that they both understood. The three half eaten sandwiches were all he ate the day before, maybe it was yesterday but then maybe not, it might have been the day before. Today he was hungry again. He didn't want to go back to the dumpster behind the Subway again today so he let her, his wife from another life, lead the way. They ended up walking back down to the dock where they sat outside at a café table. She ordered and they ate in silence. As he finished up his food a shadow came over the table. He looked up and saw two beautiful women standing there, one was very pregnant. They stood there smiling down at him. He didn't know who they were until... Eavesdropping "Daddy?" they both said in unison. He looked up at them trying to remember what his daughters looked like. He didn't recognize them. They were strangers trying to take his food like the seagulls at the pier. He got up and started to back away. He turned to run away only to come face to face with two very large women and one very tiny blond one. They all had smiles on their faces but he knew this was a trick, a trick to get his food. He wasn't going to let them have it. It was his. They can find their own. "Phil," Cheryl's voice said gently in his ear. "I love you and only you for now and for always. We're here to take you home." He looked at her and saw her smile too. Everyone was smiling. "They all want my food," he thought. "No!" He screamed. "Get your own food. This is mine." He felt arms grab him from behind, strong arms. He looked and the two large women had their arms wrapped around him and he couldn't move. "Phil, it's all right," Cheryl murmured. "We're going to take you home. Back to your home and your family. You'll be okay, Phil. Everything will be all right." "NOOOOO!" He screamed. He started to shake and his mind went blank. The rat sat there staring with his beady red eyes as Phil pushed the damp cardboard box away from his face. The rat was waiting for his breakfast and the steady rain wasn't going to deter him from his meal. Neither was Phil. Both the rat and the piece of a man that was once Phil Harclerode headed to the dumpster. The man found part of a cup of coffee and a crust of bread, the rat found something unrecognizable and smelly. Both ate their feast sitting under the dumpster lid. The rain stopped and the sun came out. Phil squinted up at the sky thinking that the trash cans down by the park usually had food that the tourists jettisoned because they bought too much. The biggest problem was that big black guy that slept over by the Safeway was usually down there scrounging for his lunch. He was mean and thought nothing of throwing a bottle or something at competition invading his territory. One time the big black guy sent Phil to the hospital over half a hotdog. Phil rubbed his head where the stitches used to be at that memory. He started walking, walking nowhere in particular, just walking to keep the neighbors and shop owners from swatting at him with a broom or squirting him with a hose. He ended up at the park standing behind a big tree looking around for the big black guy. There were joggers and families holding kid's hands and young people on bikes, but today there was no big black guy. Walking so no one could see him he checked out the first trash can. Nothing eatable. The second was better; there was an almost full cup of coffee. As Phil reached for the cup he felt an incredible pain on the back of his head and fell to the ground looking up. The big black guy was standing over him holding a large piece of wood. He raised it over his head and smashed it back down onto Phil's chest. The pain in is head was now equaled by the one in his chest. The piece of wood crashed down again and that was the last time Phil saw the big black guy or anything else. Phil woke up in a hospital bed. He'd been in hospital beds before especially when the weather turned cold. All he had to do was go to the emergency room and tell them that he found black tarry blood in his stool. They admitted him right away and started the tests all the while knowing that he wasn't really sick, he just wanted a place to sleep for the night. Phil tried to get up but his arm was in a large bandage and there was tape encircling his chest. There was excruciating pain in his chest whenever he tried to move. The urinal bottle on the table was as close as he was going to get to the bathroom so he filled it, put it back, and lay back to sleep. That's when he noticed someone sitting in the chair in the shadows at the other end of the room. It was a woman. She looked familiar but he couldn't remember from where. "Hi Phil," the woman said standing and walking over to him. "Who are you? What do you want?" he growled. "Don't you remember me?" He squinted and stared and images of another woman, similar but at the same time different, entered his mind. Then the pain came again. The source of his pain was the woman standing in the room. Her hair was almost completely white now but he remembered it to be brown and shiny from a long time ago. The lines at her eyes and mouth were more pronounced. The woman standing in front of him was old and not as attractive as the one in his memories. A lot of time had passed since the images in his head formed: A lot of time and a lot of pain. "Yeah, I remember you. You're that bitch I used to be married to." "That's right Phil. I'm Cheryl, the bitch, and you're still married to me. I never abandoned you, I never divorced you, and I never will. I love you and only you for now and for always." "What do you want?" he barked again. "The doctors said you'll be well enough that I can take you home tomorrow. You're going home. Your daughters are fixing up a room for you to stay in as we speak and in a few days you'll have a clean, safe place to live. No more alleys or abandoned buildings, you're going to come home with me and meet your grandchildren." He looked at her for a while trying to figure out what she was up to. "Will there be food there?" he asked. Cheryl smiled her big smile and said, "Of course, as much as you want." "Well okay then. When do we get out of this place?" "Tomorrow. The doctor said we can leave tomorrow." "Awwwww shit. The food in here stinks. Can you get me a hamburger or something?" "I'll see what I can do Phil. Why don't you just lie back and get some sleep. We've got a long drive ahead of us tomorrow." He relaxed and turned to the wall to sleep. Images of things, bad things, started flooding into his mind. Images of the past. Things he didn't want to remember. But they were flooding in anyway, out of control. He started to shake and his mind went blank. All of the azalea's blooms had fallen to the ground, all except one. He cried as they gently cascaded to the grass weeping for each bloom that died becoming memories of soon forgotten beauty. He did the same thing for the forsythia bush last week too. As he wiped his tears away he felt a hand touch his own. He turned and saw an old woman sitting beside him. She too was crying. But she wasn't crying for the dying azalea bloom, she was crying for him. "How are you today Phil?" Cheryl asked. The crow's feet at her eyes were gone replaced with wrinkles and age spots. Her one time brown hair was now completely white. Her eyes no longer sparkled. Her smile was gone. She sat hunched over. Her once exquisite hands were now arthritic and pale. The beautiful young woman was gone, replaced by a broken down old crone. "Who... are you?" He asked haltingly. "I'm your wife Phil, Cheryl," she said with a tear in her eye. "Don't you remember Phil? For fifty-three years I've told you that I love you and only you for now and for always." He stared at the old woman for the longest time trying to dredge up memories of her. He couldn't. They were gone. All his mind could find was a log cabin by a lake, but it didn't make any sense. Nothing made sense anymore. "I'm sorry. I don't... remember." He turned back to the azalea and cried as the last bloom fell.