Chance Encounter Ch 02 2

CHAPTER II -- A Plant in Peoria

Paul woke first on a Saturday morning. Lying on his back, he couldn't see the clock. He judged the time to be early—before six—considering the hue of the light streaming into the cabin window and the songs of the birds in the surrounding forest. Partly alongside, and partly atop, Glenda lay in bed with him. Her deep rhythmic breathing told him that she wasn't about to wake up.

Paul thought that a change of pace might be enjoyable. He and Glenda had not seen one another since their night in his hotel room three weeks before. A few e-mails, a phone call were all they managed. That didn't mean that Glenda had been far from his thoughts. When he called with the idea of a weekend at his lakeside camp, he thought that Glenda sounded glad, too. He had an airline ticket waiting for her at Midway check-in.

Paul would normally be 'up-and-at-'em' by this time when he was at the cabin. He didn't mind the change of routine, though. It had been an all day travel the day before, to his camp on the peninsula nestled in the forest and the lakes. They had both taken Friday off. She flew from Chicago to Saginaw. They drove the rest of the way. With a stop for dinner, the drive had been nearly six hours. They didn't arrive at the camp until nine. Then, there was the energy they expended together after they arrived. No wonder she was sleeping late!

Paul liked the feel of Glenda's body resting on him. It wasn't just the feminine softness or the warmth created by their flesh pressed together, but those things were a big part of it. He had waited a long time to feel them. Sally had always loved the cabin in the forest. It always seemed to bring out her sensuality when they could spend time there together. When she died, Paul had thought that he would never feel a woman pressed to his body again. Then, Glenda saw him by chance in that store in Chicago.

It was the ease with which they blended together. Glenda's head rested in the triangle between the ball of his shoulder, his collarbone and his nipple. He felt her breath stir his hair and skin. Her arm was thrown across his chest. She rested on her hip, and one of her legs, bent slightly at the knee, crested over his thigh to find a nestling pace between his parted legs. It was a comfortable, perfect fit. The two bodies interlocked like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

Without thinking, Paul stroked lightly from the nape of Glenda's neck, across her small shoulder blades, down the length of her backbone, ending at the far end of his reach at the very top of the crevice that separated her two tiny buttocks. Glenda stirred. He realized that he had broken her slumber without wanting to. He half regretted having done so. The deed done, he indulged himself once again, feeling pleasure in the soft skin under his fingertips.

Glenda stirred. Paul decided to wake her all the way. He stroked again. The deepness of her breathing ceased. Paul stroked again. She woke with a start, lifted her head and settled back down atop him. She played idly with the hair on his chest.

"Good morning!" Paul said softly to her. "How did you sleep?"

"Pretty well, I think!" she said. "The last thing that I remember ..."

She broke off the sentence, and followed with a long pause.

"Well ..." she continued in a playful voice, "I think you know what the last thing I remember is. I recall that you were a big part of it! I always sleep better after a hard workout." She gave out a small, suggestive chuckle.

She nestled closer into him, signaling a desire to start the day where the former night had ended.

"Let's go for a morning swim," Paul said.

"Maybe later," she purred. "Let's stay here for a while." She shifted her weight to be a little more on top of him.

"No! Let's go swimming," Paul commanded.

Glenda rolled her eyes as he bounded out of the sack. He disappeared into the bathroom.

"I'll need my suitcase to get my bathing suit," she called out as he emerged.

"Stay where you are. I'll bring everything that you'll need." He called back.

Paul was waiting for her as Glenda exited the bathroom.

"You won't need your suit. Here's a robe."

Glenda held the terrycloth robe and paused. She knew that it had to be Sally's. She looked at Paul with a questioning look.

"It's alright," was all he said, and she slipped on the robe. She saw that he was wearing a matching one.

"You're not really saying that we're ..." she asked, or perhaps pleaded.

"It's not even six," Paul assured her. "We're in a private little cove. Once you're in the water, it won't make any difference, anyway."

"I've never done anything like this," She protested.

"I can see that you've become a real city girl!" Paul said, laughing. "Trust me!"

She didn't have a chance to answer as Paul strode out of the cabin. Glenda followed in hot pursuit. She saw the lake in daylight for the first time. In the early morning air, vapor rose from the silent depths.

"We'll dive right off the end of the dock." He called over his shoulder.

They strode out on the dock, past the boat house. At the far end, Paul ripped off the robe and dove into the chilly water in one motion. The splash broke the silence of the morning disturbing a pair of loons about fifty yards away. They flapped to be airborne and skimmed across the water. The initial surge of coldness bit Paul. He had expected it; the refreshment of it was what he sought and received.

He surfaced, treading water, looking for Glenda. She remained on the dock, wrapped in the robe.

"C'mon, jump in!" he called.

Glenda slowly unwrapped herself, setting her robe on top of Paul's. She stood at the point of departure at the end of the dock

"It looks cold!" she cried out in fear.

"It is!" he called back. "You'll love it!"

"I don't know if I can, Paul; maybe after it warms up."

Paul laughed as he effortlessly treaded water. He took a second to view Glenda's slender body, with the pink nipples hardening on her small breasts, and the triangle of red hair the only break in the whiteness of her skin.

"Take all the time you want!" he replied sarcastically. "Just remember, while you're taking your time, you're standing there in the nude and ..."

She dove in head first, surfacing a few yards from him treading water as he was. Paul observed that she was a good swimmer.

"Ohhh, it's cold!" she cried.

"Yes, it is," Paul said, laughing. "But it feels great, doesn't it?"

"Yes—yes it does" she said with a sheepish smile.

A small boat trolled by about a hundred yards offshore carrying two early morning anglers. They saw Paul and Glenda and waved to them. Paul waved back.

"Time to go in!" he teased. "Just climb up to the dock by that ladder over there. Those guys wouldn't mind the view."

"No!" she shrieked with her eyes opening wide. Then, realizing the joke, she laughed. She laughed long and hard. It was laughter that started deep in the belly and erupted from a face that knew only the moment. It was a laugh that chased away the demons hidden in her. Paul had yet to see it until that moment. The feeling warmed him, immersed as he was in the frigid lake water.

"They're my neighbors from down the cove," Paul explained. "We'll probably see them for drinks tonight after dinner."

They swam together for a while. The water of the lake cleansed and refreshed them. They watched the loons in low flight over the water's surface. The view takes on a different perspective from eye level. They stretched muscles cramped from the long hours in the car the day before.

Too soon, it was time to go back to the cabin. They climbed out on the ladder at the end of the dock, put on their robes and walked back to the cabin.

"I have to admit it," she called to him walking in front of her, "the water really wakes you up. I feel great!"

"I knew you would," he called back.

They walked into the cabin and stood in the kitchen.

"Why don't you take a shower to warm up?" he said to her. The water in the lake is clean, but hard. You might want to shampoo it out of your hair. I'll get breakfast started."

"Why don't you finish what you already started," she cooed as she opened her robe.

Paul was confused; finding a skillet to start bacon and eggs was in the front of his mind.

"I don't know how to answer that, Glenda," he said, puzzled.

Glenda stepped to him. She took hold of the ends of the belt holding his robe together. She put her lips next to his ear.

"You answer ..." she whispered provocatively, "by saying that you're getting in the shower with me."

She tugged the belt and the robe fell open. She looked down and saw Paul's erection forming. It showed that he finally understood.

They made love in the shower as the warm water caressed them. It was different from the night before. That time, they devoured one another in victory celebration at the confirming of their defeat of their loneliness. In the morning shower it was a sharing of sensuality. It began with their flesh pressed together, nude, in the waking bed. It heightened as the lake chilled them in their nakedness. They swam together like Adam and Eve; the sights and sounds of the forests enlivened them. Finally, the warmth of the shower touched new nerves. The act of sex was the final engagement of their senses.

They weren't very interested in washing themselves, except that the soap made their skin slippery. It allowed them to glide over each other as they pressed together. Paul guided his hand over Glenda's slippery skin. First he probed the front of her. He stopped at her small breasts, cupping them, and then turned his attention on her hardened nipples. He bent to suck the warm water from them. It tasted of the lake and of her. He pulled her to him and let his big hands course the length of her back, and lower. He captured her buttocks in his strong hands and pulled her against him. They shared a hungry kiss. He released her globes and placed his fingers at the juncture in the front of her. He gently probed in. He could feel the difference between the water of the shower the moisture that Glenda created within her. She moved against him and began to moan, that Paul could hear over the sound of the shower. She took his erected penis in her hand and pulled his face down to kiss him once again. The anticipation, alone, would have been excitement enough. The physical stimulation inflamed them.

Glenda stood on her toes in an attempt to mount him, but she wasn't tall enough. As if on cue, Paul grasped her firmly under her round buttocks. Her slender body was light and Paul was strong. He lifted her; and Glenda was impaled on him. Her arms held tightly around his neck and her legs around his waist. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, counterpoint to Paul's manhood thrust into her. He made a quarter turn to lean her against the wall for a little support. He lifted her slightly and set her back down. As her weight fell on him, she squeezed around him with the muscles inside her. It took a long time for them to approach climax. By that time, the hot water had run out; the shower ran cold. They didn't care. Orgasm crested over them, not as a release, but as fulfillment of a search. They relaxed and became aware of the coldness. Paul set Glenda down and shut off the water.

As they toweled dry, Paul thought how satisfying had been the sexual interlude of that morning. He understood why immediately. It was the sating of the senses, brought alive by the immersion in the cold morning lake; it was the thrill of their awakening and justified self-indulgence. They knew they deserved the pleasure—having waited so long— having neither hurt any person nor trespassed any boundary in the partaking of it.

"Now I think that we're ready for breakfast!" Paul declared.

"I never washed my hair," hhe teased.

"Maybe I'll help you with that later," he teased back.

When Sunday came he asked her, "Can you call in sick tomorrow?"

When she answered 'yes', he said that he had already taken a personal day, himself.

So their weekend went. They boated and canoed around the lake, swam in that special style that they developed that first morning and grilled steaks and sipped scotch with friends by night. In between they joined to fill one another with their bodies, and with the feeling of being alive.

***********

It had been six weeks since Paul had attended a 'Peoria Plant' meeting. Jim Spencer had filled in ably. Paul's schedule was busy with other projects and the Shareholders' Meeting preparations. He had no time for sparring over details if it led to more of nothing. Today's meeting promised to be different.

Around the table was a familiar roll call. Paul sat at the head of the long table and to his right was Jim Spencer, both representing Dunn Chemical Company. Harry Carmichael, who owned the general contracting firm for the project was next to him; the Mayor of Peoria was next. Dr. Arthur Hopkins sat at the far end of the table, looking unusually dour. He was consultant to the State Environmental Agency in name, and suspected agent of Montgomery Chemicals, the competitor of Paul's Company which stood to lose greatly if the new plant was built. A reporter from the Peoria newspaper waited in a chair outside the room. On Paul's left, between him and Hopkins sat two representatives from the State Agency. One was Craig Morehead, second ranked on the State team; the other was a younger, more junior woman whom Paul did not know. Missing was the lead state engineer on the project. It bothered Paul that he was missing.

"Where's Grafton?" Paul demanded of Morehead.

"Ed's no longer with the Agency." Morehead answered. He walked in last week and declared he was retiring. He cleaned out his desk and walked out without saying 'good-bye. The 'golden thirty', I guess. Once he finished that thirtieth year, he was 'good to go'.

"We should have been informed." Paul said sternly.

I was appointed to fill in for him on this project." Morehead answered.

"Where is he now?" Paul demanded.

Morehead shrugged it off, but as he did, the young woman next to him spoke up.

"He got an offer from Montgomery Chemical and went for it. He's got a full ride on his state pension and a plush office at Montgomery."

Morehead shot the young woman an evil glance, but the canary had already sung her tune.

Paul was furious, but held himself in check. Paul had been sure that Montgomery had been behind the governmental delays of the project. Paul looked to the end of the table to gauge a reaction, but Hopkins stared out the meeting room window at the Sears Tower.

"I'm not going to stand for this!" he muttered to himself, but for all to hear. He turned to Morehead. "Tell Larry Wilton to expect a call from me!"

Wilton was the Administrator of the Agency.

"No need for that!" pleaded a worrying Morehead. "I'm sure that we'll wrap up the project today. We'll all get what we want. Let's just do it."

"Oh we will do it, but give Wilton my message, Craig," Paul said. His darkened eyes bored into Morehead.

"Well ..." began Morehead "there are some things that we have to insist on before we can issue the permit. First on the list is to install landscaping on the security containment dikes."

"The plans already say ..." the Peoria Mayor piped up.

Harry Carmichael touched the Mayor's arm to halt his sentence. He knew the game was almost over. Jim Spencer sat motionless, containing himself. They all knew that the Site Plan already included the landscaping.

"Consider it done!" Paul exclaimed. "Good suggestion! You should have been the lead man all along, Craig."

"Then, there is the matter of the backup emergency generator." said Morehead. "It should be solar-powered ... if possible."

As Paul listened to a litany of a dozen minor demands, he knew that it was a way of saving face in retreat. The proposals of the State Agency amounted to nearly nothing, less than window-dressing. Paul would agree to them all. The permit would be issued.

The capitulation confirmed all of Paul's suspicions. Grafton had been on the dole from Montgomery, as had been Hopkins. The strategy of meeting Hopkins stride for stride had convinced Montgomery to pull the plug and accept the reality of the new plant. That meant that Hopkins' fees and studies had ceased, too. It explained his unpleasant visage. Grafton had to be hired to keep him silent and out of sight.

The meeting was concluded and they repacked their brief cases. Paul started thinking about giving Glenda a call.

"We've got a reporter outside waiting!" called out the Mayor.

They all filed out except Hopkins and Paul. Paul stood and peered at the defeated adversary at the end of the table.

Hopkins was a shallow, thin man, lost in a tweed jacket. He was in his early sixties. He had a full beard of salt and pepper whiskers that descended to his chin at a point. His head had less hair, just a thin ring of grey. His eyes were sad and sunken.

"Win some, lose some, Arthur," Paul said. He would have admitted to a tinge of smugness in his tone, and would have also admitted that he didn't care, either.

"The people and the planet have lost. I am only their servant," Hopkins answered.

Paul was having none of Hopkins' sanctimony.

"What is this, Arthur, the 'Sermon on the Mount'? You know better than to pull this on me. We both know what was 'lost'. It was your tab from Montgomery."

Hopkins looked back out the window at the Sears Tower.

"Is someone in a window over there flashing you the answer, Arthur? You shouldn't be upset! Look at what you got—something for nothing. Isn't that your stock in trade? How long did you expect it to last?"

"You're very animated today, Paul," Hopkins said, without turning his gaze from the window.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. You just get to me sometimes," Paul said. "Going out to 'Meet the Press'?"

"No, I don't think so," Hopkins said in a quiet voice.

As Paul walked to the door he shot back over his shoulder, "You can tell Grafton that I'm not done with him."

Paul observed the crowd around the reporter. Morehead was telling him how the State had forced Paul's Company to 'pay attention to the ambience of the city with landscaping and conserve energy with solar power'. The State Senator from the area, absent from any of the meetings, had shown up to proclaim 'his part in job creation and bringing the parties together'. The Mayor looked forlorn because it didn't appear that he would be interviewed, since the reporter had his hook into bigger fish in the persons of state officials.

Paul could see that he wasn't needed. There were enough clowns in the circus. He motioned for Spencer and Carmichael to follow him out a back door.

"You guys did a great job in getting this thing through. Jim, it was the right decision when I put you on this job." Paul said.

There were handshakes and pats on the back all-around.

"I don't know about you guys, but I wouldn't mind a drink" Paul said. Let's go back to the hotel bar. I'll buy the first round. Harry you can buy the second. Spencer, you don't have to buy any, you can't afford it!" The three laughed at the joke and piled into a cab.

"By the way," Paul asked, "Who was that young woman engineer from the State?"

"I'll fill you in later." Spencer answered.

**********

The three men sat at a table in the cocktail lounge of their hotel. They were in an ebullient mood and the first round of drinks didn't do anything to dampen their spirits.

"Hey, guys," Paul piped up "do you mind if I call someone that I know close by and ask her join us?"

Paul's companions shrugged and he flipped his cell phone open.

"Hello, Glenda, it's Paul. Sorry for the short notice. I'm at the James Hotel. We just wrapped up a project and we're having a small celebration. Would you like to come over and join us? Sure, we're in the bar. Plan on dinner. We'll wait for you. Bye!"