[Please feel free to comment. I'm trying to become a professional writer and would appreciate your observations. Mainly, does the story flow, is it logically consistent, is the pace correct, are the characters enjoyable, within the confines of the story, are their actions believable, is it interesting enough to make you want to read more. Also, this is the 7th posting/chapter, so feel free to comment on prior sections. Thanks for your attention.]
All Tuesday, anxiety stifled Tom. His mind dwelt on Gen and their argument. Only the fact that his job at the grocery store required little thought allowed him to get through the day without mishap. Indeed, the mindless busy-ness kept his worry partly at bay. It returned in full force when he found his house that evening dark and empty. Despite its assertion to the contrary, Gen's note did little to alleviate the feeling of dread that he'd lost her. Study was out of the question and he rejected the false solace offered by the bottle of bourbon he kept in the kitchen cabinet. Instead, he sought surcease in a mystery novel, one of his favorite intellectually low calorie distractions. He drifted off in the wee hours, long past his usual bedtime.
He woke late Wednesday morning. Groggy, he stumbled about the kitchen trying to make coffee. Extra beans in the grinder promised a more profound caffeine jolt than usual. He cooked breakfast, hoping the action involved would help him focus. It did, so far as it went, but the food had no taste and his throat closed when he attempted to swallow. He gave it up as a bad job and left, hoping to make it to his first class before the professor arrived and closed the door.
At that time of year, dusk fell before his normal return time. Walking through the parking lot across from his place, he saw light in his windows. His heart raced and he quickened his steps. When he entered, Gen stood there in her usual jeans and t-shirt. She threw her arms around his neck and nuzzled his chest.
She whispered. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I lost my temper because I'm a damn mess. Can you forgive me?"
He pulled her body tight against his. "Only if you forgive me. I thought I'd lost you."
"Not hardly. I've never loved anybody the way I love you and I don't think I ever will."
She looked up into his eyes and moved to kiss him but stopped and pulled back. Alarm blared from her face. She smoothed her fingers across the dark circles of weariness under his eyes. "My God. Did you sleep at all last night?"
He shook his head. "Not much."
Delicious aromas from the kitchen caused his stomach to growl. She rubbed it. "When did you last eat?"
"Lunch yesterday. I couldn't choke anything down since I found you gone." His stomach growled again.
"But my note?"
He shrugged. "Was just a note. It wasn't you."
She looked at his hands. They trembled. "Oh Tom, I'm so sorry." She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Then we eat right now." She led him by the hand to the kitchen, sat him down, and filled a plate.
They ate in silence. For Tom, a meal was a job, not an event, and required efficiency more than elegance. He balanced the apparent rudeness of not talking against refraining from the appalling habit of talking with a full mouth and felt no shame. Gen preferred food flavored by speech, but yielded to Tom's eccentricity, mainly because, in her observation, it wasn't much of one; she'd rarely encountered a man who spoke much while eating.
With dinner finished, Tom rose, cleared the table, and ran water for washing the dishes in accordance with the rule of the house: either cook or clean, not both, barring extraordinary circumstances. Gen mixed herself a rum and coke and opened a bottle of beer for Tom. She carried the drinks into the living room and sat on the couch. Tom joined her.
Silence makes a great many people uncomfortable, but it never bothered Tom. Filling the air with mindless chatter irritated him, especially when the words mattered so much they could affect his entire future and required extraordinary care. Having already apologized for his error and related his anxiety, he sat quietly for a moment staring into Gen's eyes, pondering how he needed to proceed. She, too, said nothing for several minutes.
Tom smiled. "Remember our first night? When you cried?"
Gen nodded.
"I didn't try to extract information from you then and I won't do so now. But, remember when I asked you to tell me about yourself and you asked me what I wanted to know? Remember my answer?"
Gen nodded. "You asked me to tell you whatever I wanted you to know."
"Exactly. Same holds now." He took her hand. "And it always will. I love you and I know I'll never find another woman like you. Tell what you want to or nothing at all. It won't change how I feel."
Gen closed her eyes against the tears that leaked down her cheeks. She put her arms around Tom's neck, kissed him, and sat back. "I stayed with my new friend Jasmine. She's Nancy's lab partner. She's older than us, nearly forty, but she doesn't look it. Her husband died and left her well-off. Nancy and she already had plans when I called Monday, so they invited me to go to lunch with them. I talked about you being so busy studying and how I felt neglected, even desperate.
Jasmine took me to a lingerie shop and bought some sexy things for me so I could entice you into showing me more attention. I like her. She's smart and she's kind and she likes me. I got mad when you questioned her motives partly because I was so upset about still being neglected. The lingerie worked but, I guess, not all the way, and, I guess, I was scared. Scared people do all sorts of stupid things.
"But Jasmine and I talked a lot last night and today. She helped me understand my feelings for you and your feelings for me. She told me I either trusted you or not, I mean, the depth of your feelings. I understand better, now, the pressure you're under and what that means. I won't try to force you to pay attention to me when you're so wrapped up in studying. Jasmine wants me to go to her place when I feel lonely. She's good company. She'll help me manage my anxiety when I get depressed. That'll relieve the pressure on you. Is that ok?"
Tom smiled and kissed her. "Of course. As much as you want. I'm sorry I get so myopic. You know, women like to say that men can only do one thing at a time and women can do several. That's not really true. Nobody can do more than one thing at a time, but women can change channels rapidly, like pressing the TV remote back and forth, and most men can't. It's just that I'm worse at it than most men. I'll try to be better."
Gen shook her head. "No, you won't. That's not necessary. You do what you need to do with your school work. Jasmine will help me get through it. When it gets too much for me, you'll know."
"How?"
She leered. "You'll come home and find me dressed like a cathouse dream, just like Monday. Only this time, you won't ask any questions after. Deal?"
He returned her leer. "Deal."
"Good. Now, we go to bed, to sleep. You need rest. I'll be satisfied if you just hold me 'til you drift off. And I promise, when you get home from work tomorrow, you'll have a real treat waiting for you."
***
With the end of the mid-term exam week, Tom and Gen resumed their normal routine, which included sex every night. Her visits to Jasmine had curbed Gen's desperation, benefiting her tie to Tom, and the two women's relationship had blossomed.
On the Monday before Thanksgiving, Gen lay naked and panting next to Jasmine. "My God, that was good. Let me catch my breath and I'll return the favor." She reached down and stroked Jasmine's thigh, savoring the heat and softness of the older woman's skin.
Jasmine half-rolled and kissed Gen passionately and softly, as only a woman can, inviting the younger woman to taste the remains of her own fragrant nectar. Jasmine broke the kiss. "Not just yet. I want to talk a bit."
Gen's eyes popped open. "Okay, anything, but I still want to taste you. Soon?"
Jasmine stroked her cheek. "Maybe. I want to talk about our relationship."
A slight frown creased Gen's brow. "But I thought you didn't want me to give up Tom. You know I can't. Please don't try to make me choose. I don't want to give you up. I don't know if I can."
Jasmine shook her head. She stroked Gen's breasts with her fingertips, causing the younger woman to close her eyes and sigh. "No, baby, nothing like that. You need him. He makes you happy. But I know you need me, too, and you'll like what I have in mind. A lot. Trust me?" She rolled Gen's nipple.
Gen gasped and arched her back. She looked into Jasmine's eyes. "Of course I trust you."
Jasmine kissed Gen's breast. "You even love me, don't you. Not the same as Tom, but you do love me."
