What The Heart Holds

I sat holding his hand, lost in our yesterdays.

It was several days before Valentine's Day. He had come into my office, now I knew on a pretext, to question me about a new account. Before he left he had asked about me plans for Valentine's Day, my smile hid a sadness that once again the universally recognized day for lovers would find me alone.

"Oh, I'll probably just get one of those tacky romance novels and a bottle of wine and spend the evening on my sofa reading."

"Well, that seems like a waste," he replied, "Why don't you join me for dinner?"

"I don't know, it's sort of a rule of mine not to date co-workers."

He leaned up against the door jam and I studied him. He was tall and well built, his hair was light colored with sun lightened streaks running through it, his eyes were a startling blue and danced with merriment. "It doesn't have to be a date, just two friends getting together to ward off the demon Cupid. That malicious, arrow-bearing imp ... that harbinger of mindless love ... that bastion of worshipful emotion. Need I go on? How about it, Angela?"

I couldn't help but smile, "Okay Richard," I said, "but on one condition. We go dutch so that in no way could this be interpreted as anything like a date."

Now it was his turn to smile, actually it was more of a grin, throwing up his hands as in surrender he said "Alright, if that's what it takes, then so be it. I'll pick you up at 8:00, that is if it's okay with you."

"Sure," I replied. He left my office then, and I couldn't help but think about that grin. It was a strange combination of roguishness and innocent little boy, and it made me smile again just to remember it.

The next few days went by without a hitch and I was able to get my proposal done and on the boss' desk right before I left work on Friday. It had not been an easy task but now that it was completed, it was one I was proud of.

As I climbed into my car, my mind no longer filled with work, I found myself thinking about Richard. He had only been with the company a few months and I knew little of him. In fact, it had come as a surprise when he asked me out, he had been friendly enough, but had I missed the indications that he was interested in me?

I pulled out of the parking space, put a CD in the player and headed home to Rod Stewart's 'American Songbook'. When the song "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered" came one I sang along, thinking how appropriate it was to my state of mind right now. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was attracted in Richard. I realized that I would have to be careful not to be taken in by that roguish smile.

I was kidding myself when I went shopping the next day. I told myself I had nothing to wear that night, that I needed something new. So, off I went to my favorite little boutique, as I walked in Mary, the owner, recognized me, "Hello there stranger!".

"Hi, Mary. I'm in the market for a new dress, do you have anything I might like?"

"Well, let me see. What's the dress for?"

"Oh, I'm going out to dinner tonight and I wanted something new."

"Well, well, well ... this calls for something special! Our little wallflower is finally beginning to blossom!"

"Not so fast, Mary," I laughed, "it's just a dinner between two friends. And you know that I've been concentrating on my work for the past several months, I wouldn't say I'm a wallflower!"

"I think I've got just the dress for you right here," she said as she approached the rack and picked out a dress the color of the palest rose. "Why don't go you go try it on?'

I took it from her and went into the back room where I took off my jeans and sweater and was getting ready to pull the dress over my head. I stopped and looked at myself in the full-length mirror and took stock of my appearance. My chestnut hair hung loosely to my shoulders waving ever so slightly, my hazel eyes had lost none of their shine. As my hands preceded my visual inventory they first went over my breasts. They were still firm and full with very little sag to them and they were crowned by a pair of dark nipples, my waist was still small, and my hips flared out in a pleasing way. My legs were long and slim. I couldn't help but wondered what Richard might think of me.

I shook my head to lose that thought and pulled the dress over my head. Mary was right, as usual, it looked like it was made for me. It was made of a soft, clingy jersey knit that embraced every curve. It had a scooped neckline so large that it barely sat on my shoulders. As I put the wide belt on I noticed it emphasized the smallness of my waist and the gradual swelling of my hips and breast. The hemline was long, almost to my ankles, which gave me a look of sophistication. I liked what I saw in the mirror and as soon as I had changed back into my street clothes went to pay Mary.

That night I decided to take a bath instead of a shower, as I filled the tub with hot water I dropped in rose oil to scent the water. I luxuriated in the warm water letting it relax me. After a few minutes I soaped up and as my hands skimmed over my body I wondered what it might feel like to have Richard's large hands touch me. I became conscious of the fact that Richard was in my thought more and more, and many of those thoughts were not of an innocent nature. I quickly rinsed off, got out of the tub and toweled myself dry.

I carefully put on my makeup, more dramatic than what I wore every day to the office, but taking care that it wasn't garish. I brushed my hair until it was silky smooth the put it up with a clip.

I put on a pair of thigh high stockings and a thong. The clingy jersey of the dress would show a pantyline, and because of the wide scoop neckline wearing a bra was impossible. I slipped the dress over my head, being very careful of my makeup and hair. To complete the outfit I chose a pair of 3" black patent leather heels and simple gold earrings.

As I looked at myself in the mirror I was pleased with the image I saw looking back at me. Don't believe a woman who feigns reticence about her looks, women know when we look good! And that night I looked more than just good, I was looking damned good!

Precisely at 8:00 my doorbell rang, sending my stomach into my throat. I suddenly realized I was nervous. Nervous! Why should I be nervous, Richard and I were simply going out to dinner to exile, as he put it, "that demon Cupid".

When I opened the door Richard let out a low, appreciative whistle. "My God, Angela, you look stunning."

"Thank you kind sir," I said with a smile, "would you like a drink before we head out?"

"Sure," he said following me into the living room.

"So, what'll it be? I've got wine, Scotch, and beer."

"Just a beer will do it."

"Okay, I'll just be a minute," I said and headed for the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of wine and got a beer out of the frig for Richard. I put the glass of wine, the beer and a pilsner glass on a tray and carried them back into the living room.

I found Richard looking at my CD collection. "I see you have a lot of traditional Celtic music here. Would you choose something and put it on to play? I'm afraid "Danny Boy" is about the extent of my knowledge when it comes to Celtic music.

I laughed, "Certainly, I'll be glad to." I chose 'Carolan's Welcome' by Carol Thompson. Soon the lilting melodies played on the harp filled the room.

"Well, what do you think of it?"

"It's beautiful, so delicate. It makes you want to just be quiet, not say a word, less you miss some of it."

I caught myself smiling at him. No one in my circle of friends had ever put it so succinctly. We stood in companionable silence as we finished our drinks.

"I hate to break the mood; however, we had better get going. I made a reservation for 8:30." Richard helped me with my wrap and we walked to his car.

"So, where are we going?"

"Well, I thought Shoney's ... but you're a little dressed up for that," he said with that grin of his. "I guess we'll have to go to Plan B ... lucky I made reservations at Paul's along the river."

I smiled back at him, "It's been a long time since I've been to Paul's. Do you think we could get a table overlooking the river?"

"I'll see to it personally."

The rest of the way we chatted and got to know each other better. We talked about families and schools, just as friends would do. When I mentioned completing my proposal Richard stopped me, "No shop talk tonight. I want to get to know you, the real you, not an account manager."

I was a little taken back, but agreed.

Looking back on it now it seemed like a lifetime ago, not just five years.

I was brought out of my remembering by a doctor that had just come in. "We've done all we can, Mrs. Bolton, the rest is up to him. They'll be bring him in in a few minutes. He'll be asleep for a while, why don't you go home and try to rest."

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to stay."

"Alright, sure it's okay"

When they finally wheeled the bed in I gasped. Richard looked so vulnerable lying there in his hospital gown, he was so pale under the glaring fluorescent lights that I knew couldn't leave him.

As I stood up, still holding his hand, my other hand brushed a lock of his hair from his forehead, and I summoned up more memories.

While that first dinner was glorious, he did, in fact, get us a table overlooking the river. We laughed and talked through the evening, unaware of our surroundings. When we finally did look around we found we were the only ones left in the dining room and our waiter was hovering close by. "Would you like the check now?" he politely asked.

Richard chuckled, "I guess we'd better go before they either kick us out or lock us in here."

Richard paid the full bill that night, unwilling to stick to our agreement to go dutch.

As I gathered my wrap about me I thought of how easily my rule about dating co-workers seemed to go by the wayside.

Richard's hand was on the small of my back as he walked me up to my door. I got out my keys and fumbled with the door, Richard took them from me and slid the key in and unlocked it. I turned to him, dreading this awkward moment then decided to put it off, "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?"

He almost whispered, "Yes. I would."

In the kitchen as I prepared the coffeemaker I was aware of how close he stood to me. "Angela," he began, "I hope this isn't an isolated incident ... I hope you'll go out with me again."

As I turned toward him he reached out for me, his hand behind my neck pulling me face to his. His lips softly brushed mine and I closed my eyes. I took a step toward him and put my hands on his chest. My lips parted as his tongue slowly circled my mouth. Suddenly I was kissing him back with my arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

He broke the kiss and held me close to him, "Oh God Angela, I've wanted to do that from the first minute I saw you. I wanted to taste you, to see what you'd feel like in my arms." Then he was kissing me again, much more insistent this time and I pressed my body against his. Richard's hands were moving up and down my back, sending shivers through me. His hands finally cupped my ass and pulled me even closer and I could feel his erection.

I didn't know now if it was the months I had spent alone but unexpectedly I knew I wanted him to make love to me. There was a warmth in my belly spreading like wildfire through my body, my breasts felt heavy and full and there was a wetness between my legs that couldn't be denied.

As my hand slid down to his groin, he stopped kissing me and looked down into my eyes, "Are you sure about this?"

"I've never been so sure about anything"

He stepped back and first unbuckled my belt, then his hands went to my skirt. As he pulled my dress over my head I heard his quick intake of air. I was standing before him clad only in my thong and thigh high stockings. His fingers caught the sides of my thong and peeled it away.

As I once again stepped into his arms he picked me up and set me down on the countertop and gently pushed me down. "When I said I wanted to taste you, I wasn't just talking about your kisses."

He began by kissing my breasts, first one then the other and I arched my back and held on to his head, never wanting him to stop. His tongue flicked over my nipples making them harder than I ever dreamed imaginable. His hands slowly went down both sides of my hips to my thighs and then back up again. Over and over his hands teased me until I could keep my legs together no longer. I spread them wanting him to touch me but instead his head moved downward.

I gasped when his mouth enveloped me, his tongue licking the length of my slit coming slowly to my clit. While he nibbled and sucked I began to writhe, my hips bucking up to his face. Under his expert ministrations it didn't take but a few minutes before I came the first time. He lifted his face to me replacing his tongue with his fingers. We stared into each other faces then he stretched up to kiss me. I could taste myself on his lips and tongue and that intimacy only drove me higher.

"Richard, I want you in me now," I almost pleaded.

Without saying a word he pulled me up from the counter and led me by the hand to the living room. He turned to me and I began to unbutton his shirt as he unzipped his pants. We both were trembling so that we fumbled with the buttons. Suddenly it seemed funny, like we were two teenagers about to give up their virginity and we laughed uneasily.

He spun me around to the couch and I lay there totally unembarrassed by my nudity as I watched him undress. Then he came to me, placing his knee between my thighs to open them. I was more than ready for him and I wrapped one leg around his and my other leg I propped up on the back of the sofa.

When he entered me I felt complete. So complete. He glided slowly in and out of me, taking his time with me. When he could no longer hold himself back he withdrew from me. He flipped me over and I immediately knew what he wanted. I got up on my knees and wiggled my ass just a little.

He then took me hard. I could feel his prick against the opening of my womb. His hands were on my hips and as he came closer to his release his hands gripped me harder. "Cum with me Angela," he implored. Within a few more strokes I was once again on the brink, he sensed it and we both quaked with delicious abandon blotting out everything but the two of us.

My knees went down and I was lying face down on the sofa, Richard on top of me, he was kissing the back and sides of my neck. He whispered, "I didn't expect for the evening to end like this."

"Neither did I, but I'm so glad it did."

Richard spent the night with me. That was five years ago and still he makes me tremble, makes me mindless with the want of him. God, I love this man. That's why he can't die, I'd be lost without him.

Richard stirred and moaned and I came back to reality. "Richard, sweetheart, can you hear me?"

A nurse came in, hearing me she said, "It's a little too soon for him to respond yet, Mrs. Bolton. How about a cup of coffee?"

"Thank you, I'd like that."

When she came back in she handed me a Styrofoam cup, "How long have you two been married?"

"Almost 4 years," I replied my mind once again drifting back to a memory of Richard standing there in a tux looking so handsome. I was in yards and yards of white satin, lace and seed pearls. I remember him holding out his hand to me as I approached the alter and the look on his face when he said "I do". I remember my hand shaking as I put the ring on his finger, I could barely say my vows I was choked with so much emotion, "With this ring I thee wed".

There were tears in my eyes that day, but they were tears of joy. My mother had always said that tears of joy had no salt in them.

Then we were off on our honeymoon. Richard had rented a small house on a secluded beach just south of Jacksonville. We made love, and watched as the sun dimmed the ocean, took long walks on the beach, cooked wonderful meals, and made love.

It was a magical time.

The years passed by quickly, Christmases, birthdays, anniversaries ... all the markers people use to measure their time together.

I realized just how few of those markers there had been for us.

And now he might die before he knew about the most important marker of all, I had just found our two days ago that I was pregnant. Pregnant with our first child. I should have told him immediately, but I wanted to make it special, so I had waited for Saturday night.

He had gone to play golf with some of his friends. I set the table with linen and china, placing flowers and candles in the center of the table. I had taken my shower and was in my bathrobe putting on my makeup when the phone rang, "Mrs. Bolton, I'm afraid there's been an accident. Your husband was injured and is in surgery now ..."

I didn't remember the rest of what the voice on the phone told me. I ripped the robe from me and jumped in the first thing I saw in my closet and ran out the door.

"Oh, please God! Please let him be alright," was the mantra I repeated over and over to myself as I sped to the hospital.

And now I was sitting by his bed, holding his hand, waiting and praying that he would wake up.

I put my head down on the side of his bed and silently began to cry. I didn't realize I had drifted off to sleep until I heard his voice, "Angela ..."

My head snapped up to see that his face was turned towards me. "Oh Richard!" I cried. I quickly rang for the nurse then cupped his cheek in my hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a 2-ton truck," he smiled wistfully.

"Well, it was considerably more than a 2-ton truck, my darling."

The nurse came in the room followed by the doctor. After an examination the doctor stepped back, "You gave us quite a scare, Mr. Bolton, but it seems you're going to be alright now, although it will be some time before you can leave the hospital."

When they left, I could hold back my relief any longer. I draped myself carefully over him and began to cry.

"What's this now," Richard chided me, "was it the news from the doctor that I'm going to live?"

"Don't even kid about that! You are the most important thing in my life, what my heart holds so dear."

"I'm sorry, love. Sorry for this whole blasted mess, sorry for making you worry so. Forgive me?"

Surprisingly candlelight and flowers didn't matter any more, I looked up at him and said, "How could I not forgive you ... you're the father of my child."

It took a moment for it to sink in but when it did Richard's face was transformed. That old grin, part rogue part little boy, was back.