I hate it when my wife goes out of town. I am left to my own devices and do not do well under those circumstances. God knows I am too old to hang out at clubs and I am not a neighborhood bar kind of guy.
She tries to take the pressure off by getting some of her friends to invite me over for dinner, but if she is gone during the week I usually decline. I can find enough work and a good book to get me through the evenings. I get the pre-done meals at the gourmet supermarket and am in bed at a decent hour so I can be on the roads running by six A.M.
Weekends are different. That's when the heebie jeebies set in. The runs take up time until the sun is high and then the paper and breakfast at I-Hop or Panera Bread get me till noon. I can write or futz around for a bit, but then the sun sets.
That's why I'm glad I accepted Louise's invitation to dinner. She and Dan live about fifteen minutes from us. Their kids and ours were friendly growing up and we have been more or less friends for years. I stopped at the wine store and selected a good Merlot to take with me - always bring something, my wife cautions.
I pulled up to the stately two story Georgian home, not by any means a Mcmansion, but a comfortable looking house on a cull de sac. The front light was on and some subdued lamp light filtered through the front windows. One ring of the bell, which sounded like a modified church bell, and there she was.
Louise was wearing a long dress, cut high on the shoulders and low on the bust. Now, I had known her for over fifteen years, so go figure this was the first time I ever noticed her breasts. They were magnificent. Not hanging out of the dress mind you, but clearly defined and with cleavage noted. She was approaching fifty, but as I looked at her in the doorway I realized she was still a stunning woman.
"Well, Barry," she smiled at me, "welcome to the weekend bachelor." Her smile could light up a room. I had noticed that whenever we were together at a neighborhood party or a fund raiser. Louise was almost my height with huge brown eyes and hair that surrounded her face and fell to her shoulders.
"Thanks for saving me from the neighborhood bar," I replied. I held out the Merlot bottle. "I don't know if this goes with whatever it is I'm smelling, but Dan and I can drink it anyway, right?"
"Our Danny is not with us tonight and that is salmon you smell, but if doesn't matter to you, it does not to us."
"Us?" I questioned.
"I thought you might feel threatened with just me at dinner, so when Dan got called out of town this morning I invited Bobbie over to take up the slack."
Bobbie. Louise's friend Bobbie. Bobbie was as short as Louise was tall. Thin, athletic, and a real ball of fire, full of fun, jokes and enjoying her post-divorce life with her ex's money. Bobbie was about ten years younger than Louise, which made her a full fifteen younger than me.
Louise took my hand and led me from the front hall into the living room. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace. It was November and a chill usually set in after sundown. Curled up in a massive wing chair in front of the fire was Bobbie. She had her hair cut short, but not in a masculine cut at all. Her bare feet showed from under a pair of black and white striped slacks. She smiled up at me and waved a huge wine glass.
"Welcome to weekend at the Stewarts!" She called. He voice was high, as Louise's was low. But not annoyingly so, kind of like tinkling bells. She uncurled her feet and sprang up from the chair, Above the slacks she was wearing a stunning electric blue blouse with the first two buttons undone. I figured it was a two hundred dollar number from Neiman's catalogue, but what the hell do I know?
Her perky little breasts outlined on each side of the open buttons. Not half the cleavage that Louise showed, I thought. And, as soon as I did, the other voice in my head said "stop that, you old raunch!"
She came up to me and pulled my head down and kissed me full on the lips. Not a long kiss, but enough to make my loins jingle. "Barry," Louise called as she went through the dining room and into the kitchen, "help yourself at the bar or open that wine you brought. I'll be right in."
I moved to the bar, set in the wall just to the right of the fireplace. I looked over the wine assortment and figured what the hell, as long as I have to open one it might as well be the one I brought. I took the cork screw and in a minute was seated in the other wing chair beside the fireplace.
"Life good?" I inquired of Bobbie.
"A bit boring, but otherwise excellent. You?"
"Too busy, but otherwise I guess I'd go nuts."
"Let's see," Bobbie looked at the ceiling. "Former Navy Seal, now writes thrillers for a living. Makes book tours, an occasional movie deal. Wife high powered attorney. Yeah, I guess you are busy!" She turned to me and turned on a million watt smile. How come, I thought, I never looked at either of these women as sensual beings until tonight?
Louise came in from the kitchen and perched on the edge of Bobbie's chair. Bobbie scrunched back to make room and absent mindedly rubbed Louise's back. "Maria still working that pollution case?" She asked.
"Yeah, had to go to Washington for the weekend to get ready for the government depositions next week."
"Good cause, though," Louise said, getting up and going to the bar. She held up the bottle of Merlot. "This what you brought?" she asked. I nodded. She poured a healthy dollop into a large wine glass and stood in front of the fireplace.
"You two guys really have exciting lives," she said, smiling at me.
"Well, you know, happiness is where you find it," I answered lamely.
"Well, I am still lookin'!" Exclaimed Bobbie.
We talked about life in the suburbs, kids at college, what an asshole Bobbie's ex husband was, now sailing around the world on his boat. The wine glasses emptied and were refilled.
"Let me put the salmon on," Louise held up a finger as if to stop the conversation until she returned. "It's been marinating for over an hour and it will take a jif to cook." She strode from the living room and I watched her go. Never noticed what a great ass she has, either, I thought.
"Ya know," Bobbie said, still curled up on the wing chair, "I asked your wife what it was like being home with a successful writer, ex Seal, bla, bla. She said it was pretty normal, but I really don't know what the fuck that is."
Louise returned and settled on the couch. She swirled her third glass of wine and looked deep into it as if secrets could be revealed there. "Normal is as normal does," she said. "Dan is sweet as hell, but sometimes I'd like to poke him with a stick to see if there is any life in there."
I figured I better duck this one from both sides. Bobbie drained her third glass and stood up, stretching. Her taut little belly showed below her blouse as she did. "Dinner, Louise, before I get totally shitface," she said.
Being trained as a watcher and observer, I held to one and half glasses of the Merlot, which was now a dead soldier. Louise went in the kitchen and I stood to head for the dining room. As I did, Bobbie came right up to me and stood maybe three inches from me. She looked up at my face. "I think I'd love a taste of what Maria calls normal." With that, she ran her leg up between mine stopping just short of my crotch. So, whaddya do or say with that? Well, I smiled, stroked her cheek with my hand, put it in the middle of her back and turned her to the dining room. She put on a mock pout but headed, a bit unsteadily to the dining room.
Louise had set a beautiful table. Candles glowed in the middle. The china was vintage Waterford. The salmon came on a platter still sizzling with steamed vegetables and small red skinned potatoes. She had brought out a good looking red Cabernet and passed it around.
We ate leisurely, the conversation roaming from the stupidity of the government to trying to stop a new massive shopping center from being built. The food seemed to sober Bobbie up a bit, but she kept staring at me all through the meal. At a lull in the conversation, she said "You've been in real danger, haven't you?"
"At the time, did not give it much thought. Now I'm very sedentary."
"You don't look it, Barry. Kept your shape, looking good."