Chapter Three; Friends and Lovers
Those first days after our return from Boston Rick and I lived in a somewhat surreal state. I know I was somewhat preoccupied and, more than once, I saw Rick pause, a faraway look in his eyes before smiling at me. I could hardly believe that we'd done all those deliciously lascivious things with those sexy people, but we had. We touched one another a lot and our lovelife was very special.
We took turns playing "remember when." An especially delightful way of reliving, in the utmost intimate detail, scenes from our weekend. We had succeeded, not only in rejuvenating our sex life, but also in reigniting the sheer joy of our emotional relationship which had been placed on hold for too many years. What we had shared together in Boston appeared to have strengthened our love for each other, allowing it to grow and surpass anything we had previously experienced in the eleven-plus years of our marriage.
Proof that our weekend wasn't just a sexy dream had arrived in the form of a lovely and expensive flower arrangement the day after we got back. With it was a card which read: "Our heartfelt thanks to the two of you. Let's get together again soon! Love, Dan and Jack." I put the bouquet on the counter between the kitchen and the dining area where I could keep it watered and make the flowers last. Every time I saw and smelled the beautiful red roses, they brought back fond memories of our Boston fling.
A week passed and, despite my best efforts, the roses died. I had to wipe away a tear when I threw them out. As always, life subsided back into our regular routines of work and home life with after school activities for the kids. I resumed my soccer mom persona and Rick was busy putting out fires at work.
The morning after we'd returned from Boston, I drove over and picked up the kids from my sister's place. They were great, they'd scarcely missed us, but Mary Ann was a different story. She wasn't her usual cheerful self. I was concerned, but I really hadn't the time to devote to her that day so we set a date to have lunch on Wednesday of that week.
By the time our luncheon date rolled around, I had gotten some insight into what was troubling her. My son had mentioned that his Uncle Bill, who is what they called Mary Ann's live-in boyfriend of three years, sure was drinking a lot. His sister agreed, "Yeah, Mom. He drank a whole bunch of beers and went to sleep in front of the TV every night we were there."
Poor Mary Ann. My kid sister, whom I dote on, is four years younger than I and has a heart of gold. Since she was a little girl, she has always reached out to puppies and kittens and other helpless things. In my opinion, that's the best explanation for how she got hooked up with Bill--she must have felt sorry for him.
Again, my opinion, that would have been easy for a tender-hearted person like Mary Ann because Bill was a sorry piece of shit. Since they'd been together, he'd never held a job for more than a week and my sister, who worked as a chairside assistant in a dental office, supported the loafer.
Mary Ann and I were at a little deli close to her office during her lunch hour. Over our sandwiches and iced tea my suspicions were confirmed. Uncle Bill was the problem and, thank goodness, she wanted out of the relationship. My sister isn't the world's most decisive person and she was at a loss to figure out a way to weasel out without hurting the asshole. I listened sympathetically but impatiently to the handful of witless schemes she proposed.
Finally I said, "Okay, sis. I'll help you get rid of the creep. Here's what we'll do. You give up your apartment and move in with Rick and me. The kids love you and we have plenty of room for you, but not for Bill. That'll take care of your problem. I predict that useless Bill will find someone else to sponge off of in short order." She looked like a drowning person who has just latched onto a life ring. Between smiles and tears, she took my hands and thanked me.
That very weekend Rick and I rented a trailer and moved her out of her apartment. We left behind a hungover and rather befuddled Bill, sprawled in a leaking beanbag chair, surrounded by his spiffy wardrobe of grubby T-shirts and jeans that we'd emptied out of dresser drawers and dumped on the floor. He didn't argue or try to stop us. He merely complained that now he wouldn't even have a TV to watch the game on. He shut up when I pointed out that the apartment was only paid up for one more week and he'd better get his ass in gear before he found himself living in a dumpster.
My sister settled right in with us. She had her own space in a cute little suite over the garage that we'd created for company several years before. In addition to a separate outside entrance, there was access through our upstairs hallway so she had use of the guest bath.
At twenty-eight, Mary Ann is a very attractive girl. Her hair is shoulder-length and dark blonde, her eyes, a changeable green, and she has a tight but lushly feminine figure with high, firm breasts, like mine used to be before I had two kids. A classic, heart-shaped ass completes her package. At five foot eight, she's taller than me by two inches which has been a standing joke between us forever because she's four years younger than me--my kid sister. Rick likes her a lot and she keeps telling me how lucky I am to have him.
I've suspected for some time that chemistry existed between those two. Not long ago that thought would have really bothered me, but with my newfound approach to life and love, I just asked myself, what was the worst thing that could happen? Well--they could fuck each other.
With some amazement, I realized that I didn't really feel threatened by that possibility. I loved them both and if they found pleasure in each other's arms that would be a good thing. Not only could I tolerate that, perhaps, if the vibrations were right, I told myself, I might even join them.
After our recent adventure, I felt more secure about Rick's love. However, contemplating that possible scenario didn't mean that I was anxious for my husband and my sister to actually get together. The relationship between the three of us would likely have gone on just as it had for years if fate hadn't intervened.
Mary Ann quizzed me about our weekend in Boston, but I dodged her questions merely saying that we met friends there and the guys went to a ball game while my friend, Kelli, and I went shopping. That was a technically correct account, but far from the whole story. Telling her that semi-truth made me feel like a freaking politician.
The plot thickened one afternoon when I was dropping off the kids at soccer practice--honest. Mary Ann was home alone when Kelli called wanting to talk to me. According to Mary Ann, she was close to being hysterical, sobbing that Dan had kicked her out, and saying that she didn't know what to do. I could tell my sister was somewhat taken aback as she reported this. I guessed that Kelli's plea for help had apparently confirmed that the relationship between her and me was quite a bit more intense than just that of casual, shopping acquaintances. She had left a phone number and I went up to my room to return her call.
Mary Ann was correct; poor Kelli was distraught. She answered on the first ring and began sobbing heartbrokenly as she explained that Dan had ditched her, after telling her that they were no longer a couple.
"The nerve of that bastard! You know what he said to me, Beth? He said, 'I don't want to live with you anymore, but we can still fuck once in awhile if you get hard up for a screw.'"
