Than God for Irish Women

Chapter 4

As moments turned to minutes, I walked to the bathroom to clean myself and change underwear. Returning, I lay beside her. We glanced at each other; she grinned. I'd lost my head, like Patrick had and felt guilty about what happened.

"I'm sorry Emily. I shouldn't have yielded to that temptation."

"That's ridiculous. I wanted you to do exactly what you did. I've missed it. I'm very sorry I called out Patrick's name. I have no idea why that happened."

"Okay, the doctor is in. Five cents please."

She smiled and paused a moment. "Every time I think of you in a sexual way, my mind goes to him. It's like he's still alive inside me. Why does my mind do that?"

"That's a deep question. I may have to charge ten cents for this one!"

She smiled again. "You might be worth it."

"The engineer in me believes that our minds are always processing and storing experiences. Later, we have these déjà vu feelings that just come out unwanted from our brain's file cabinet. A certain smell can trigger a memory. A certain combination of words or something we see, or the way someone laughs can even trigger it. I imagine that a brain's memory storage areas have different folders for different emotions or experiences and one of those folders is sexual pleasure."

"You're saying a mental folder contains all our memories of sexual experiences."

"Well, not literally but I think of it that way. No one knows how our brains actually work to store and retrieve memories. It's a mystery. For example, many animals are born fully functional, knowing what to do and how to survive with no parents helping them. Their little brains start with knowledge that we as humans have to learn. How does that happen? Humans are the highest form of animal life, the most advanced in capability, yet our babies can't do that. Why?"

"Matt, are you suggesting that when I'm trying to have a new sexual experience, my mind opens that folder and out comes memories of previous experiences?"

"Something like that. You may remember Patrick and all the emotional and physical pleasure you had with him, and I may remember Barbara or another lover. It'd be natural for you to call his name in the throes of an orgasm."

"That makes sense. The more experiences one has with a person, the more likely he or she is to recall them during new experiences."

"Just remember, you're only paying ten cents for my analysis and that's probably more than it's worth."

She laughed. "Dare I ask, how many partners have you had?"

"Oh, Emily. Do we need to talk about that?"

"Yes. I want to know." She smiled. "Go on. Be honest now."

I paused, let out a big sigh and slowly shook my head. "Let me think. There was Kate and Janie in Iowa when I was in high school. In Atlanta, there was Barbara and Ellie, another Janie, then Linda Sue, Traci who was from Canada, Melissa Jane from Dallas, and Toni who was Italian. I believe that's all. Hold on, I forgot Daria. She was a one-nighter."

Her eyes showed surprise.

"You've had many different experiences."

I asked, "What about you?"

"Other than Patrick, there was Tommy, Jimmy - he's one of the guys who got suspended - and George."

"But most of your memories were of Patrick."

"By a long shot. The others, except for one, were just short flings that never left any great memories. I thought I was serious about them, but it didn't end up that way. I didn't even have an orgasm with two of them."

She smiled. "You and I need to make more of those memories so my folder is better balanced."

We both laughed, but her eyes told me she was serious.

"Can we get cleaned up and on the road?" I asked.

"I'm hungry," she replied.

"We can eat here. The restaurant looks nice."

"Fine with me," she replied.

"Let me wash up, and you can have the bathroom."

"Why don't we shower together? It'll be faster."

"Emily, we've been over this."

"Matt, look at me. My boobs have been exposed here the last five minutes listening to our conversation. They've been staring you in the face the entire time."

"And they're lovely too."

"What the hell is different if we take a shower together? My girly parts are very normal and you've seen many of them."

"Yes, but I haven't seen yours."

She stared at me and pursed her lips. "Are you afraid for me to see you naked?"

"Afraid? No."

She reached over and touched me through the fabric of my pajamas. I was semi-erect anyway from our conversation; but it grew rapidly as she rubbed it. I grabbed her hand. "Emily, please stop."

"You have a very impressive tool, Matt. What's the big deal?"

"Emily, I'm sorry. Please try to understand. You're not just any woman."

She stared at me for a moment. "You're still thinking you don't want to get emotionally invested in me in case I come to my senses and leave you."

I was afraid to respond.

"Matt, we promised to be honest with each other. Now answer me."

"Maybe so."

"I need you and not just for a few weeks." Her tears flowed again, and I reached for her.

"Emily, I want to be part of your life. I want you to become part of mine. You may very well be the one lady I've always wanted to find."

That seemed to surprise her. "Do you really mean that?" Using her hand, she wiped away tears.

"Yes, I do. But needing me is very different from loving me. I need to be loved, not just needed."

She dropped her head but slowly looked up and smiled with tears in her eyes. "I can't yet commit to that, Matt."

"I know."

We embraced and the feel of her soft bare breasts against my chest created a new memory in my folder. We separated, kissed, and hugged again before I went to shower, shave and dress.

After her shower, Emily dressed in a creamy white halter-top and blue Daisy Dukes. The outfit was very revealing with more than half of her sexy tanned back showing. She wasn't wearing a bra, and the arm cutouts exposed the sides of her impressive breasts. I wasn't happy about it but didn't say a word.

****

There was a breakfast buffet at the hotel, and the fresh fruit was especially good.

"What's the plan for today?" she asked as we sipped the last of our coffee.

"Let's talk about that. I don't plan to be at my parents' place until Monday afternoon so we have options. We can drive to St. Louis, which is about four or five hours, and spend a couple of nights there. Des Moines is only another five to six hours beyond St. Louis."

"What's the other option?"

"We can take a longer route and drive 12 hours today to Kansas City and spend two nights there. That will leave us only two or three hours to my house on Monday. KC has many great restaurants, museums, and an excellent art gallery."

"I like that option. Patrick and I stopped in St. Louis on the way to Atlanta. I don't want to return there. With both of us driving, twelve hours is fine. Could we see a ball game if the Royals are in town?"

"Sure. We can check online and get tickets if they are."

We returned to the room and, using the laptop, found a good deal at the Ambassador Hotel in downtown Kansas City. It was a highly rated boutique hotel. The rate was a little more than I normally would spend but what the heck. I didn't think my employer would mind.

We checked the Royals schedule and learned they were home and playing the White Sox. I purchased tickets for Sunday's afternoon game.

After checking out and loading our luggage, we continued up I-24 and settled in for the long ride until our lunch break. I subscribed to Sirius Radio, and Emily enjoyed going through the stations and finding some of her favorite artists. To my surprise, after an hour of listening to classic rock, she switched to the Prime Country channel and began listening to my kind of music. It wasn't long until she was writing down names of songs and artists she liked.

"Emily, can you look in the bag behind my seat and pull out the gift wrapped box?"

She looked quizzically at me but unfastened her seat belt, put her knees in the seat and reached over behind me. She found the gift, settled back into her seat and fastened her seatbelt.

"What's this?"

"A little gift for you."

Her eyes showed surprise. "You bought me a gift?"

"Yep, I'm nice, am I not?" I glanced at her.

"You surely are." She carefully opened the wrapping paper and saw it was the new iPad. She exclaimed, "Oh my! Matt, what a wonderful gift! These are expensive. Are you sure about this?"

"Oh, I didn't know it was expensive. I better take it back."

She pretended to be angry and childishly stuck her tongue out at me. We giggled.

"I thought it'd be fun for you to use during the trip. It's a 3G model so you should be able to connect from most anywhere." She turned it on and found a signal right away.

"I also have a car charger. You can sync it with your MacBook and copy all the iPhone apps over. They should work just fine, and there are new ones on iTunes just for the iPad."

"This is amazing. I love how lightweight it is. Thank you. This is a wonderful gift."

She reached over and kissed my cheek. For the next two hours, she explored its functionality and had many "ah ha" moments.

We had to refuel on I-64, an hour east of St. Louis, and used that as an opportunity to have lunch. We stopped at a sandwich shop and shared a large turkey sub. As we ate, Emily asked about my mother.

"Her name is Kathryn and she's 47. She's a perfect mom, strong in character, and a leader in our church. My dad says she walks on water, and I'm not going to argue with him. Did I mention I have a brother?"

"I don't think so."

"He's a twin named Mark."

"Let's see... Matthew and Mark. Aren't there two books in the Bible by those names?"

"I didn't think you knew anything about the Bible."

"I was just guessing." She grinned when I glanced at her.

"Sure you were. Anyway, we look alike now, and were identical when we were younger. He entered the military rather than go to college. It bulked him up, and he's easily twice as strong as I am. He served in the Marine Corps and saw action in Iraq and Afghanistan. Fortunately, he came back in one piece but his wife Cheryl says he still suffers from terrible dreams. He won't talk about it, however.

"They live a few miles from Mom and Dad so we'll probably have a dinner or two with them at my parents' house."

"Do they have children?"

"Not yet but Mom told me they're trying."

"What does Mark do now?"

"He works with Dad on the farm. I think the plan is that he'll take it over one day."

"You don't have an interest in it?"

"I grew up there and love it, but I love engineering and design of equipment even more. The farm is very large and we also milk 120 Holsteins. The dairy side of the business is currently losing money, but Dad loves it. We also grow and sell hay and silage. The corn is great business. Before all the ethanol investments, corn was selling for $1.80 a bushel and now it's over $6.00. Our farm yields approximately 850,000 bushels a year and that's been a godsend to our family finances."

"Do they have many employees?"

"Counting Dad and Mark, there are six, and Dad hires traveling crews to help harvest the corn and hay. Iowa grows more corn than any other state; and many crews travel around and work for the farmers as needed. The harvesting and hay equipment is very expensive and hard to maintain. Dad never wanted to make the investment."

"I can't wait to meet them."

"Let's call Bob and Judy before we start driving."

"Can I call them?" she asked.

We returned to the car. I handed her my cell phone, and she touched his name to call. After a few rings, Bob answered. Emily turned on the speaker.

"Hello."

"Mr. Thompson, this is Emily Ryan. We met you at the OK Café a week or so ago."

"Oh! Hi Emily. Did you make it to the Opry?"

"We did. You and your friend shocked us with the backstage passes. Thank you so much. It was very special."

"We were glad to do that for you. Did you meet the artists?"

"Nearly everyone. They were very nice to us, and they think the world of you and Judy. Alan Jackson even dedicated a song to me."

"I'm glad to hear that. The artists you met are very generous with their time and talent, and they do care about people and helping those who need it. They're going out on the road starting now, as their schedules allow, and doing fundraisers for the flood victims."

I interrupted, "Bob, this is Matt. Are you retired now or are you still involved with the charities?"

"Hey Matt. Judy and I are still a little involved. These fundraisers are demanding extra effort, and we're helping out. We're actually in Nashville now working on where the money will go. Tomorrow, there's a show here with Brad Paisley, Lady Antebellum, Dierks Bentley, and Rodney Atkins to benefit the Community Foundation of Middle Tennessee. There's another one May 22nd and that money will go to the Salvation Army and a consortium called the Local Flood Relief Direct Services."

"Sounds like you're more than a little involved. We just wanted to call and say thank you for all you did for us. It was a night that we'll always remember."

"Emily, Judy and I have been praying for you and we both believe that God has something special planned for you. We have no idea what it is, but it will be revealed in due time. Please have faith that many people and God care about you."

I looked at Emily; her chin was quivering. Still, she had the strength to reply, "Thank you very much. That means a lot. Matt is taking great care of me so he's already an answer to your prayers."

I added, "We'll let you get back to work now but, again, you made our visit to Nashville absolutely perfect. Thank you and please tell Judy we said hello."

"Will do. Be careful and do stay in touch. Goodbye."

I made a mental note to call him when we got to California and see how I could help with a donation. Emily and I waited there for a few moments to gather our thoughts. She was soon composed and ready to go.

"If you'll drive for the next hour or two, I'll call my parents."

"It's a deal. I've been wanting to drive this monster."

"Just stay on I-64 and it'll connect to I-70 that goes directly to Kansas City. I'll take over when we get to a rest stop."

Emily drove onto the interstate and hit the gas. She preferred to drive faster than I but was still below the point that the police would be concerned.

"I like the way you drive. You're always checking the mirrors and keeping your eyes focused on the road."

"In San Francisco, the drivers are bad and you have to expect the unexpected. There's too much texting and driving and you can never count on people keeping their cars in their lane."

"I hate to hear that."

"Yeah, be sure to have good insurance."

"Speaking of insurance, when your mom was killed in the car accident, did she have insurance that helped you?"

"You mean like life insurance?"

"Yeah, or anything that paid an accidental death benefit to you?"

"If she did, it went to my stepdad. I never saw any of it."

"What does your stepdad do for a living?"

"He's a computer security analyst. His job is to hack into the online sites for retailers and banks and operating systems for Apple, Dell, and others to show them how it could be done. The industry refers to them as 'white hat hackers.' Their clients would then beef up their security with new code and firewall enhancements to prevent it."

"That's interesting. Does he work directly for them or a smaller company?"

"He and four or five others formed their own little company and contracted to the big guys."

I called Mom. It rang three times before she answered.

"Hello."

"Hi Mom."

"Matt, where are you?"

"Just east of St. Louis."

"Oh, you're going to be here tonight?"

"No, we're going to Kansas City and spend a couple of nights. We'll be there as planned on Monday, probably in time to take you to lunch."

"With whom are you traveling?"

"I met a very nice young lady in Atlanta, and she lives near San Francisco. I'm giving her a ride home."

"I'm sure she appreciates it."

"She does. I hope it's okay for her to use one of our guest rooms for a couple of days."

"We'll be glad to have her."

"How's Dad doing?"

"Very good. The corn's been planted and he's finally getting more sleep."

"Did he work 18 hours a day again this year?"

"Yes, he did. I don't know how he does it but when the weather broke, and the ground warmed enough, he and the guys went hard at it, as they do every year. It took them 10 days."

"Tell him I said 'hi' and we'll see you Monday. I love you, Mom."

"Love you too. Bye."

"How long are we going to be there?" Emily asked.

"Probably two or three nights. Is that fine with you?"

"There's no reason I need to be back so whatever your schedule allows is fine."

"Have you heard anything about the memorial service?"

"I received an email from Nancy, and she said they were thinking about coming in June but they needed to check with their former minister to find a good date."

****

Emily drove for two hours before pulling into a rest stop to relieve ourselves and change drivers. She mistakenly turned into the truck parking area.

We found a spot out of the way of the 18-wheelers and beyond another car that, evidently, had made the same mistake.

We were walking to the restrooms when the driver of the other car rolled down his window. That was not good. He was very rough looking, as if he'd been on a three-day binge.

He said in a slurred voice much too loud, "Hey honey, you're beautiful. Can I have a kiss?"

I moved to be between Emily and the drunk and told her to ignore him. We continued walking straight ahead, but I looked back and got his plate number.

He hollered again, "That's okay, I'll wait for you. Take your time and be sure to wipe that pretty ass." He laughed, proud of how funny he was.

Emily asked, "Can you believe that jerk?"

"He's drunk. At least, he's not driving but it's unlawful for him to be sitting behind the wheel when it's parked."

"Should we call the police?"

"We probably should. You go ahead and I'll call the state police."

It took a few minutes to find the number and place the call. After going through the mandatory answering regimen, I was connected to a real person.

"Hello. This is Officer Owens. How can I help you?"

"Sir, we are at the rest stop near mile marker 168 on I-70 westbound at Mineola. A man in a late model blue Honda Civic is parked on the truck side and appears to be intoxicated. He accosted my girlfriend and I'm concerned about this situation."

"What do you mean by accosted?"

I told him what happened and gave him the car's plate number and my personal information.

"We have a unit not far from there. I'll have the patrolman stop by and check it out."

Emily took her time and it was at least five minutes before we walked back to the car.

"Matt, he's still there."

"I know. You walk over in the grass, and I'll walk down the sidewalk. If he gets out of the car and tries anything, call 911."

"He could be dangerous."

I gave her a big smile and said, "I can be dangerous too."

"Matt, be serious!" she scolded.

I grinned.

As we approached the car, the drunk opened his door. The trouble was that another man got out on the passenger side. This was going to get nasty, I thought.

The first man was glaring at Emily. He yelled, "Hey pretty girl, I told you I'd wait for you. Come give me a kiss so I won't have to hurt your boyfriend."

I glanced at the second man... he was walking to get behind me. I backed into the grass to face both and said, "Guys, I'd hate to hurt you so get back in the car."

The first man slurred, "Did you say you were going to hurt us? Listen fucker, I'm going to kick your ass and rip your damn guts out."

As the rant ended, the second man rushed in and took a hard swing at my head.