Cathy plip plopped her tiny feet up the porch, to the door, through the foyer and living room, up the steps, and into what had been their bedroom. She sat on the side of the bed. She looked at Leah's picture as it hung on the wall, "You bitch. You're not ruining our lives." She scouted around till she found the place where Steve had left the chains; those awful chains. She picked them up and placed them on the bed. Over on the bureau was that shitty little screwdriver. She went and got it. These were hers too.
Cathy went to work. Going through all the steps she put the collar back on. Next she did the ankle chains. The chain that held the wrist manacles had been cut in half when Steve had used the master lock to fix them behind her back. God she was lucky, the oval fixtures at the ends attached to the wrist cuffs also required the same star shaped screwdriver. With difficulty she managed to get one off. She took it, threw the unneeded piece of chain on the floor, and with great difficulty managed to get the oval thing attached to the still connected piece of chain and then screwed it in around the O-ring of her other wrist. The only difference now and when she'd run out of the house earlier was the length of chain that held her wrists together was only three not six inches long.
She was, once again, chained up. She left the bedroom and reached the stairs. Instead of childishly plopping down the steps one at a time like she'd done before she very carefully walked down each step; it was tricky and she almost fell once. She wondered what Steve would do if she did fall down his steps and really got hurt. She wondered if he actually honestly even cared. As she started down she saw Steve sitting on the sofa in the living room.
Steve saw her at the top of the stairs. He was in utter disbelief. What was she doing? Was she completely crazy? He'd originally gotten the chains to humiliate her, break up her poise, and wreck havoc on her self-confidence. Wearing them now only humiliated him.
Afraid she might fall he moved quickly to the steps and watched her come down. He stood by feeling almost numb, "Cathy why are you doing this? It was only kind of a joke. I didn't mean it to be so mean, honest! Come on I'm sorry."
She just ignored him so he tried again, "Oh Cathy please don't do this. I'm so sorry. Please let me make it up to you. I promise I'll do whatever you want."
When she got to the last step Steve reached out and tried to put his hands on her shoulders. She evaded his grasp and stepped away. Moving maybe three feet away she looked him in the eye, "If you want her, your slave will be in the gazebo." She spun around, nearly losing her balance, and walked toward the kitchen and the back door, ass wiggling, chains dragging across the living room rug.
He watched her with relief tinged with remorse. At least she wasn't leaving him.
For the next three days, when he wasn't at the hospice, Steve stayed in the house, usually at the bathroom window watching her in the gazebo. As far as he could tell she never came out except to go to the bathroom or to empty the trashcan. He knew she had to do something soon; there wasn't enough food to last much longer. She was driving him crazy. He was afraid to go out and talk to her, afraid of what she might say and afraid he'd screw things up even worse, but he knew this couldn't go on.
Finally Steve called his friend Theresa. He told her some of what happened, how he'd been a fool, how they'd had a fight, and how she'd offered all her money to the hospice. He explained to Theresa how he'd told her she had no money, and how she'd taken up in the gazebo. He didn't tell her about the bondage or the spanking, or that she had chained herself up with nothing on, that all sounded just too sick.Steve was just sick with shame.
Theresa offered to take her out to lunch; if Steve was too scared maybe she could talk to her. Steve fell over himself with gratitude, but suggested she offer through a note rather than direct contact. The last thing he wanted was Theresa to see her attired the way she was. He felt degraded enough just knowing she was out there all chained up.
On the fifth day Steve found Cathy had left a note on the kitchen counter. It was a grocery list. He immediately went out and bought everything she wanted. He also bought and signed an 'I Love You' card. He added a short note begging her to come in. He promised he'd do anything she wanted if she just stopped being so darned stubborn. Cathy didn't respond.
The next day Theresa dropped off a sealed envelope. She told Steve it was the note he'd asked for. He promptly took it to the gazebo. Cathy watched as he slid it under the door. He waited while she opened and read it. She wrote something inside and slid it back out. He read it and nodded.
Cathy had agreed to a meeting with Theresa, but only if Theresa picked her up and took her to lunch. She set a firm time and date, and scribbled a p.s. saying that Steve should be out of the house when Theresa came, and that he shouldn't try to follow.
He wrote back that he'd agree to everything. He also added a lot of X's and O's so she knew how he felt about her. It wasn't just that he loved her, he really did, but he'd been behaving so stupidly, what if it got out that's he'd been doing the things he'd done. He wasn't Albert DeSalvo; he was Steve Murphy. If what he'd been doing ever leaked out it could ruin what he was doing at the hospice. No one would give money to a pervert.
Cathy thought it was time to turn the tables on Theresa. By then she'd figured out who'd been behind the maid thing and the silly outfit. She wondered how Theresa might feel if she had to face her again displayed in the same way.
The day Theresa came by to pick her up she was dressed in the same little black maid's uniform she'd worn the night Theresa had humiliated her. The only thing she left off was the apron.
Theresa saw the uniform and knew right away what Cathy's intentions were. Theresa had certainly underestimated the woman. She felt like a fool. She also realized she could be wrong about her motives, and that she needed to find a way to fix things. She wasn't completely sure of Cathy's intentions, but there was no time like the present to begin to find out. She smiled as Cathy got in the car, "Hi I thought we'd go to the restaurant down on Fourth and Sullivan Streets. It's a nice place, mostly home made food. You'll like it."
Cathy answered icily, "I've been there. Steve took me."
Theresa replied, "Someplace else then?"
Cathy nodded, "Someplace with Italian."
"There's an Olive Garden?"
"Olive Garden's good."
The women drove to the Olive Garden in silence; one decked out to the nines, the other dressed like a servant. They went in and got seated pretty quickly. Both got the red wine and the afternoon lasagna entree. The food was reliably good. They both got coffee afterward.
While they were drinking their coffee Theresa opened the conversation, "I'm sorry for the way I've been behaving."
Cathy was terse, "You're forgiven."
"I want to talk about Steve."
"I'm here."
"Steve loves you very much."
"I love him too, but he has peculiar ways of showing his affection. I'd say he's just about out of time."
"I know a little about what's been going on with you two, but I'm not here about that."
Cathy looked at her. She wondered how much Steve had told her, "Then what are you here for?"
"Tell me what do you know about Steve and Leah?"
"They were childhood sweethearts. He loved her. He married her. They lived happily ever after until she got cancer and died."
"You don't know anything else."
"Is there anything else?"
"Leah was pregnant when she died. The baby wasn't Steve's and he suspected she was pregnant and he had his doubts as to whether he was the daddy or not." Theresa could tell she had Cathy's attention.
Cathy wasn't about to give Theresa anything to work with. She asked, "What does he know now?"
"He still has his suspicions.I mean he know now she was pregnant, but about the other..."
Cathy was curious. She interrupted, "Does he have any idea who the real father was?"
"I don't think so."
"Do you know?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you tell him?"
Theresa shrugged, "I love Steve, not like you do, but I do love him. Besides what good would it do?"
Cathy had to claw at the woman just a little, "Oh I don't know. He might want to know who had been screwing his childhood sweetheart; you know who had slipped her the meat package and knocked her up."
Theresa looked at the other woman thoughtfully. She'd only then come to fully realize just how badly they'd treated the person who was sitting across the table. Theresa regretted it, "Steve is my best friend. I've known him a long time." She saw the suspicion on Cathy's face. "No nothing like that, never. Ever wonder why I'm not married. I prefer women. I mean I'd do you, but frankly I don't think you're into women."
