This story was developed over several months. Because my writing has improved during this time, I have decided to go back over this story in its entirety. This novella is a compilation of the six original installments of the story, plus additional modifications. I have cut portions that were unnecessary and added when greater clarity was needed. If this was a movie there would be hours of film on the cutting room floor. Nevertheless, you could also say this is like the Director's Cut with additional scenes that had been deleted.
The characters in this story are flawed, just like you and me. Sometimes they make bad decisions as they struggle to live their lives. Sometimes they make life changing decisions. All characters and situations are complete fiction, a product of my fertile imagination. Any similarity to actual people and situations is purely a coincidence. All constructive criticism is welcome.
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Chapter 1
Two years ago, my wife passed away. Processing the grief has been difficult because it has forced me to reconcile with my new identity as a widower. Supportive friends, neighbors, and colleagues have tried to help get me out of the house and away from the memories. Asking me to join their social events like fundraisers, parties, and cookouts have been great gestures, but I have yet to accept. I don't feel that I am quite ready for that much socializing, so I stay home and curl up with a good book.
It was a little past six on a warm Friday evening in mid-August. Dinner and the cleanup were complete. I settled down in one of the rocking chairs on my porch with my well-worn copy of
The Fellowship of the Ring
. The sun was just beginning to set behind one of the large maples on the west side of my property. About an hour and a half of filtered sunlight remained to enjoy the evening breezes and read about Frodo's adventures in Middle Earth. There was a horn toot on the road and I looked up to see Christina Ashby's blue hybrid turning into the drive.
Chris and I are both professors at the local college. Although she is 20 years my junior, she is one of my closest and dearest friends. Our friendship goes back eight years to when she first arrived at the college. Since neither her family, nor mine is close by, we have tended to look out for one another. For example, when Chris and her husband Jack came down with the flu, my wife Rosalind and I took them food, went to the pharmacy, and helped nurse them back to health. When Roz was sick, Chris brought me meals and tidied up around my house. She spent hours with me at Hospice House and was at my side when Rosalind passed away. Chris and Jack have continued to look out for me since. I have been a frequent dinner guest, they brought me into their home for the holidays, and Chris has come by regularly to check up on me. I was pretty sure that that's what this was -- a wellness check.
My relationship with Chris has also been flirtatious, but completely platonic. Whenever I am having a conversation with her, we lock into some serious eye contact, not a couple of seconds, but rather several minutes at a time. I get lost in her brown eyes. It's as if we undergo a mind meld and I can't look away.
I try hard not to be the dirty old professor around campus. The abundance of enticing female flesh that our co-eds display makes that very difficult. For example, when going up the stairs, I always look at the ground for fear of being caught looking up a young woman's skirt. In person, I spend a lot of time looking into their eyes. With Chris it is no different. Her shapely breasts; her firm, toned butt; and her curvy hips present an attractive figure that my eyes are instinctively drawn to. I began looking at her eyes because I didn't want her to see me checking her out. Looking into her eyes has now become an addiction and I can't look away.
Chris is also into exercise, 5Ks are her preferred poison, but she is also an avid hiker. While motherhood added a pound or two to her short, muscular frame, she is in excellent shape. She is a stylish dresser and exceptionally modest. I have rarely seen more than a bare shoulder or calf.
I heard her car door slam. Soon she came into view, rounding the front of the house.
"Hey, old man. Aren't you going to Wendy's party?"
"I wasn't planning on it."
"Well, I'm here to change your mind."
Chris was wearing a knee length, light blue sundress with yellow flats. There was a touch of grey in her brown hair, and it didn't appear that she wore any makeup. She didn't need any. She walked around and climbed the porch steps. I stood and she gave me a nice hug. She's at least a foot shorter than I am and I could feel her breasts press into my abdomen as she squeezed me tight. I returned the pressure and gave her a fatherly kiss on the top of her head.
I breathed deeply, smelling some type of herbal shampoo, "Wow, human contact."
Chris stepped back, checking me out, "Have you lost some weight? You look great."
"A couple of pounds. You are simply gorgeous."
She gave me another tight hug. We just stood there for a few moments holding each other. I was savoring her friendship. Finally, we eased off. I motioned to the other rocker and we both sat down.
Chris' eyes looked a little red as if she might have been crying. I was tempted to say something.
She reached over, took my hand, and squeezed it, "How have you been? I've hardly seen you this summer."
She didn't take her hand away and I felt like a teenager again, holding hands with the girl next door. This simple human contact had my heart racing. I looked into her brown eyes and was lost.
I was tempted to catch a glimpse of her breasts, but her eyes were bewitching. "Been staying busy with the garden and repairing a spot on the back of the barn. I'll send you home with some veggies. Mostly just relaxing and doing a lot of reading. How about you?"
She pointed at my book, "I love
Lord of the Rings
. Well, we went out west right after school let out and saw my folks. Been doing a lot of writing. Getting ready to send Jackie off to kindergarten next month."
"Wow! Kindergarten already. Time flies huh?"
"He's growing like a weed. So, are you going to come to Wendy's party with me?"
"Look at me Chris. I'm all sweaty and dirty."
"Nothing a little soap and water won't take care of. When was the last time you went out? Socially, I mean."
"Your house for Christmas dinner, I think."
"Are you kidding me?! Quinn, you must come with me. I need a date besides."
"How about Jack?"
Chris looked away. Something was wrong. Her jaw clenched and started quivering. When her eyes returned to mine, they were brimming with tears. "Jack is a shit."
"What's the matter?"
Tears started rolling down her cheeks. I reached into my pocket and handed her my handkerchief. "It's clean."
"My dad always has a handkerchief too. Can we walk?"
"Sure."
We both stood. Chris led me down the steps and waited at the bottom. She held out her hand and I took it. We started slowly strolling down towards my garden and my small meadow.
It took her a moment to start talking. "He is an absolute fucker."
She didn't look at me, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground ahead. Tears were flowing steadily now. She wiped her face every thirty seconds or so. I was surprised at the f-bomb because Chris rarely uses profanity. The exception is when she was really pissed off. This seemed to be one of those times. Marriage counseling is not something I would ever attempt, but I remember Roz used to ask me to just listen and not try and fix things.
I squeezed her hand, "You can tell me as little or as much as you want. You are one of my dearest friends and have seen me through some rough times. The roughest times." I stopped walking, "The least I can do is be here for you."
Chris reached and put her arm around my waist. I put mine around her shoulder.
She took a deep breath. "Jack and I have been fighting a lot. Two months ago he tried to hit me. He missed and I ran out of the house. I stayed with Zoë for a couple of days."
Zoë is our faculty colleague at the college. Chris and Zoë are thick as thieves and do everything together.
Chris continued, "We sort of came to a truce for Jackie's sake, but I haven't slept in our bed since. I use the guest room and lock the door. Jack is being a complete asshole. He acts like he's the only one with a full time job." I could see the anger rising. "I'm a fucking full-time college professor and he doesn't lift a goddamn finger around the house! I have to do everything for Jackie. And then..."
She stopped walking. Sobs started to wrack her body and she put her hands to her face. I pulled her to me and she buried her face in my dirty work shirt. I just held her as the tears flowed, shoulders heaving. I gave her another kiss on the top of her head. I petted her hair, trying to sooth her somehow. It took a while, but the sobbing eased. She stepped back. Tears and snot were freely flowing. Then her face turned from sadness to madness.
Her anger was palpable, "The son of a bitch didn't come home on Wednesday. I didn't see him until he came home from work yesterday. He said he was out with his buddies all night. Horseshit he was out with his buddies. He was out fucking someone. When he went to work I checked his laundry. There were cum stains on his briefs and they smelled like someone's cunt. Sorry, I hate that word, but that what she is -- a cunt! He's a cunt too! I don't know who she is, but she's a cunt! The two of them have fucking destroyed my fucking marriage!"
She wiped her face one more time and handed back my handkerchief. "Sorry, it's all wet. I must look like hell."
"It's a beautiful hell though."
"Thank you."
She turned away from me and stood with her hands on her hips, her head thrown back, looking up at the sky. She was taking deep breaths trying to calm herself. I wasn't sure what to do, so I didn't do anything for a minute or two. Finally, I went over and I put my hands on her shoulders. She brought her hand up to mine.
Chris turned, took my hand, and lightly kissed it. We were standing on the far side of my property at the edge of a maple grove. The sun was angling across the meadow. The sun turned her hair to a golden brown.
Her sad eyes gazed into mine, tears brimming again. "What the hell I am going to do?"
This woman was in misery. She hugged me and the sobs built up again. I just held her for what seemed the longest time. I remembered holding my daughters like this when they broke up with a boyfriend. This was a hundred times worse. In either case, there was nothing I could do.
"I'm sorry," she wept into my chest.
I gently petted the back of her head. We stood there for quite a while. Every so often her body would shake. Eventually the sobbing eased. She leaned back.
I handed her the handkerchief again. "Wipe your face again."
"I've made a mess of your shirt."
"It was dirty to begin with. Shall we head back?"
