The usual legal sounding crap about original story, strictly fiction, consenting adults. Blah, blah, blah...
Thank you for your patience. Writing has been difficult these past months. Please rate and comment.
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Bordeaux, France
Five days after leaving Marseille, Tony and Rita found themselves staying over in Bordeaux. Renard et Benoit (ben-wah) Wines operated a bottling plant there, and Tony had many friends there. One of the managers of the plant and his wife hosted a small dinner party for them. Rita enjoyed seeing Tony totally immersed in the wine culture and speaking only French for hours. He did so very well for a Georgia boy.
In private, they spoke mostly English, but seldom did they speak of the night at Club Phantom. Tony still felt waves of guilt about the way it went down and Rita getting hurt. When they spoke of it, they talked about their new friend, Phillipe.
Phillipe had helped save the lives of Andre Benoit's granddaughter, her friend and Rita. Now he was an employee. Andre liked the lad. He saw a young version of himself in Phillipe, both having French and Italian heritage. Still, Phillipe had much to learn in order to fit in the company and help Tony and Rita. Fortunately, he was eager to learn and very intelligent. He was also a very handsome and charming young man.
* * * * *
In Bordeaux, the corporate apartment was occupied by a couple of buyers, so Tony had gladly checked them into a nice modern hotel in an ancient building. The place was beautiful and expensive and going on Andre's credit card.
"We usually are on each other's nerves really bad after a week together. This has been very nice, Mr. de Palma."
"It's been beautiful, baby. But there were some frustrating moments." Tony said.
"Oh, really?! Come to think of it, I think you are on my nerves right now." Rita said with a growl in her voice.
"Well, you are bugging the hell out of me, too." Tony said. He lifted Rita's leg and thrust his cock deeper. "You are the most exasperating woman I've ever known." He kept up the pace, doing Rita from behind, standing in the bathroom.
"Tell me what that word means later. Now, show me that you know how to finish this on a bed before you actually piss me off." Rita said and laughed.
Tony gently lay Rita on the hotel bed and slowly resumed their love making. They laughed quietly and spoke a few soft words for each other. He matched her rhythms and varied his thrust, and soon they found their groove. Like one spark igniting two fires, a slight change in their rhythm launched Rita and Tony into synchronized orgasms. They reveled in each other's embrace.
* * * * *
Tony awakened the next morning to an empty bed and the sound of water running in the bathroom. He checked the time. It was early, barely daylight. He slowly moved to the bathroom door and peeked in. Rita sat on the toilet clutching a wet towel to her face. He saw her shoulders shake and knew she was crying. He stepped in. "Rita, are you OK? What's the matter?"
Rita looked up with red swollen eyes. She wiped her face. "Just bad dreams, hauntings from the past."
"Did you dream about your parents again?"
"No. Dreaming about my mother and father makes me happy." She got up and leaned into Tony's chest as he wrapped his arms around her. "It was the babies, those beautiful babies."
* * * * *
Seven years earlier.
"Alicia, my name is Dr. Isabella Renard. I was here today, and an old friend asked me to talk to you."
"You are a pretty lady, and you sound British. Are you another head shrinker?"
"Many people would call me that, but not really. I am a psychologist. I write boring papers and work with people more like a councilor. They tell me that you got very upset over losing some patients in the pediatrics wing."
The girl smiled. "Well, that's putting it mildly. I busted some furniture in the staff dining room and hit a friend in the face. He was just trying to help me. They made me take a diazepam. I'm sure I will be sacked as soon as possible. I don't care. I can't be a nurse if beautiful babies are going to..."
"They told me that the young man said he was hit by accident. He was holding an ice-pack to his eye and begging them not to fire you." Isabella said.
"He is nice. He came by to see me. He's going to have a terrible black eye. I apologized. He has had a crush on me for a while. He will rethink that. What do I have to do to get out of the psych ward?"
"Just leave. They just wanted you to cool off and make sure you will not hurt yourself."
"I am not suicidal. Although, no one would miss me. My parents are gone, and my father's family will not have anything to do with me. I'll quit nursing and go back to working in a kitchen somewhere."
"Alicia, why did you want to be a nurse?"
"I wanted to help people and make a difference. Please call me Rita. It is a name my mother called me. I was her little senorita."
"That's nice. If you will call me Isabella, it will be more comfortable. Rita, will you spend the rest of day with me? I'd like for us to talk like friends and maybe meet my husband later."
"I have nothing else to do, other than clean out my locker and look for another job." Rita said with an artificial laugh.
Isabella was somewhat taken aback by Rita's coarse wit but understood. "Can we talk about the children, Rita? You know all about the statistics of nursing. Do you know why this hurt you so deeply?"
"They teach you in nursing school that we will lose patients. I guess it was the babies. They never got a chance to live. Mother Nature is a cruel bitch. We lost four beautiful babies in two weeks and I snapped."
"They told me about the eight-year-old girl with cancer that you made friends with."
"Yes. I read stories to her when I had time." Rita said. "At least I saw that one coming. She lost her hair from the treatments, but she kept her spirits high. We made hats for her and laughed. She got very sick at the end and it seemed merciful, like the infant boy born with the bad heart. It seemed like a mercy."
"Is that a religious belief for you?" Isabella asked.
"I believe in a power greater than us, but I am not tied to a religion. I pray sometimes, just for my own peace of mind." Rita went on. "We lost these babies, and I snapped. We had lost a boy that was premature and the boy with the bad heart. I was very sad, but it was part of the job and the way of the world. The last one was the one that hurt so bad." Rita said.
"What happened? They didn't give me any details on the children."
"It was a beautiful baby girl. She had big bright eyes and a ring of wispy black curls around the crown of her head. She was fat and healthy. She was bright and alert. When I talked to her, she made eye contact and smiled. I held her and rocked her to sleep. Her liver function was screwy. She became jaundiced over the weekend. When I came in, Monday, they had lost her." Rita slipped out of her chair onto her knees and wept. "She was beautiful, Isabella. Death is so hard. I just can't handle this."
Isabella thought of all the things she might say to try to help but stayed silent. She helped Rita off the floor and held her in a warm hug until she stopped crying. "Rita, I have a photo I'd like to show you." Isabella took a twenty-year-old picture from her bag. It was a younger Isabella cradling an infant and smiling broadly. "This is me and my son Michael. He would listen to my voice and smile. Rita, we lost him a month after this picture was taken. They said he got choked in his sleep. Robert and I were devastated."
Rita began to weep again. She and Isabella held each other and cried together for a while.
"Did you say that I can leave?" Rita asked.
"Yes, if I tell them that you aren't going to wreck the place or hurt yourself." Isabella said.
"I promise. Let's get out of here before they lock me in."
"Let me take you to lunch and we will try to help each other." Isabella said and tried to smile.
Rita and Isabella walked to a café near the hospital. Along the way, several hospital staff members stopped Rita and hugged her and offered support. The two ladies talked constantly, avoiding speaking about lost children. Still, Isabella tried to keep Rita talking about how she was feeling. Rita told Isabella many things, some may have even been true. Still, Rita's feelings came through.
Later in the afternoon, as the sun began to filter through the trees at a low angle, the ladies were approached by a handsome middle-aged man. He spoke directly to Isabella then gave her a quick kiss.
"Robert, this is the young lady we were told about. Her name is Alicia Valadez, but she likes to be called Rita." Isabella made the introduction. "Rita, this fellow is my husband, Robert Renard."