Theresa had been skyping back and forth with Cathy for several days. All she heard was Cathy and Steve, Steve and Cathy, Cathy, Cathy, Cathy, Steve, Steve, Steve; they just didn't get it.
Theresa knew the truth. Cathy knew nothing. Steve knew nothing. If they knew they wouldn't feel the way they did. No, it would be entirely different.
Theresa remembered, she remembered everything. Steve wasn't this great guy Cathy talked about. He was a cad, a bounder, the worst kind of creep. She knew. She knew the truth.
When Leah had been alive Steve had been the wiliest Tom Cat in six states, a real night owl, a sexual prowler. Leah found out, she'd learned what a creep Steve was. That's when she turned to her, to Theresa. Theresa had been there for her; she'd always been there. Cathy had asked her if she had a significant other. Well she did, and she had; in fact she put flowers on her grave every week. No one else did. Steve never did. He was too weak.
When Leah found out about Steve's wanderings she'd fallen into Theresa's to arms. They made love. Leah became her paramour. She and Leah; it was idyllic. Leah was on the verge of telling the bastard she was going to leave him. She was going to leave him for her. Imagine, Steve's wife dropping him for a lesbian. If Leah hadn't gotten sick it would have happened too! It would have been Leah and Theresa, not Leah and Steve.
But Leah did get sick, and Steve fell into a funk. He collapsed in his own effluvium. Call it guilt, remorse, regret, whatever, Steve's sadness knew no limit, but it wasn't a normal kind of gloom. Steve had felt trapped, snared. His happy go lucky life style had been overturned. He was suddenly swamped with new concerns, new problems, and for the first time he was inundated with real responsibility.
His problems would have broken him if it hadn't been for her. When he was down, while Leah lay dying, and then afterward, it had been Theresa, good old Theresa who'd come to the rescue. Theresa had saved Leah, and then she'd saved Steve.
But Leah had told her everything. She told her about the lonely nights, the discovered infidelities, the anger, then Leah had told her about Allen, yes Allen. Good old Glynnis never knew, and still didn't know about her wonderful loving devoted one and only. He hadn't been that wonderful loving one and only after all.
Theresa wondered how it would all pan out if little Stevie, cutie pie Cathy, and Ms. Perfect Glynnis, and of course that stalwart of fidelity Allen all got the news. What if they all got the news at the same time? What if they did? Well they had it coming! Theresa wasn't sure what to do. In her way she loved Steve. She liked Cathy too. Glynnis was an old friend. They all mattered. They just didn't understand. How would they? It was like there was this circle. Whenever someone drew it they were on the inside, and she was on the outside. Theresa didn't know what to do; she just didn't know what to do.
++++++++++++
Cathy wasn't the best when it came to reading other peoples thoughts, but she hadn't grown up in a compete vacuum. Her father had been one mean son of a bitch. She hated him. Still, she guessed he had his reasons, not that it excused him.
Cathy was a firm believer in retributive justice; a person does wrong, they confess, we forgive, but they still get punished. In fact, if they confessed, and are really penitent, they should want to be punished.
Steve was still carrying around a lot of guilt and anger. After talking to Theresa she bet she had some skeletons in her closet too. Then there was Leah, but she wasn't saying anything. Then again, maybe she was. Steve, she knew, was capable of hurting people, but she was convinced it didn't happen without provocation. He beat her poor rear end mercilessly, but she'd figured it out, that hadn't been her ass he was walloping, it had probably been Leah's, and not just for dying.
She knew a few things. She had Steve's number. She could and certainly would make him a happy man. But then what about Theresa? There was no reason for her to do anything for Theresa. That woman had done things to her that had been unnecessarily mean, maybe a little bit anyway.
She had every justification for getting even, hospice notwithstanding. Did she want to hurt Theresa? Did she want to get even? She would have once, but no not anymore.
Cathy made up her mind; Theresa was going to be become her best friend. Sure Theresa liked the girls, and she didn't go that way, but so what, friends were friends no matter. Yeah, Theresa would look good dressed up as a Fairy God Mother, or a cow girl. After she got finished with Steve, after she had him had him all married and tucked away, then she'd get Theresa on board. Whatever pain and unhappiness they were carrying, she figured there was enough love to go around to fix just about anything. She knew that because every day she saw those little kids; she saw what love could do.
Cathy looked in the mirror. Steve would be home soon. The person she saw in the mirror wasn't the same one who'd shown up some time back. That artificially sexy woman was long gone. Staring back at her now was the original plain Jane, the first Wallflower; dark brown hair put up in pig tails, no make-up, mousy brown eyes, and itty bitty boobies. She had no idea what Steve saw in her, but she was sure glad he did.
She got dressed. She got into her little uniform; a simple camisole, white blouse, cotton panties, tan pleated miniskirt, white knee highs, and brown and white saddle shoes. This wasn't one of her school girl uniforms. She'd stopped doing that a while ago; this was just what he liked, and what he liked he got. He'd get home, they'd eat dinner, she'd help clean up, and then they'd talk about their days. She'd talk about her visit with the kids, phone calls she might have made, and anything else she thought was important. Steve would comment a little bit about his day, new kids on the way, and money for the hospice.
Then there was one other thing; Theresa wanted to take everyone out to eat. She was sure he'd agree.
Steve got home and Cathy was waiting in the foyer, "Steve we got a call from Theresa. She wants to take everyone out to dinner."
"Really what's the special occasion?"
"I don't know, she just said it was something she wanted to do."
He answered, "OK. Can we talk about it later? I've got something else on my mind right now."
++++++++++++
Steve got this wild hair up his ass. He needed to do something with Cathy he'd thought about for a long time. He'd been reading up on tattoos, women being branded, and such. He found out a lot of times those tattoos women wore meant something.
Once he was out getting some doughnuts and this woman was in line ahead of him. She had on one of those little bra dresses; the kind with the strapped shoulders and low cut at the chest so everyone got a got glimpse of her cleavage. She was a nice looking woman, but she had these tattoos. Later he found out the bar code she'd had tattooed on the back of her neck was probably her pimp's name and phone number. She had what looked like Norse or Germanic runes on the back of her hands and on her chest right under her head across the clavicles. He read where the runes probably told people she was a prostitute.
Steve wondered what it would be like if he had a woman with tattoos like that. He made up his mind to find out.
Cathy got back from the hospice a little late one afternoon. Steve was waiting for her in the sitting room. He called out, "Hey Cathy. Get cleaned up and put on a dress I got you. It's upstairs, then come down here."
She wondered what Steve had in mind. She'd had a really good day. All the kids were doing well, and she felt kind of perky. Maybe he had something special in mind. She ran upstairs and into their bedroom. She saw lying on the bed a yellow bra dress and matching yellow cotton panties. She slipped out of her Snow White' costume and tried on the bra dress. It was too short, too tight, and too small even for her tiny breasts. She put it on anyway. She slipped on the panties, a pair of tennis shoes and skipped down the stairs.
When she got to the sitting room Steve was there, waiting. He gave her a stupid grin and said, "Come on over here and sit down."
She bounced over knowing whatever it was it was probably really dumb, "OK, here I am."
He gave her an evil grin that didn't quite meet evil's muster, "Bend over my knee and pull down your little yellow panties."
This was news, "Steve I thought we weren't into spankings anymore."
"We're not my little muffin. I've got something better."
Little Muffin? Something better? "OK, what have you got?"
He smiled again. He still couldn't look mean, "You're my woman aren't you?"
"This is silly, yes, I'm your woman."
