Ch. 7: Haunted by the Ghost of Mrs. Nguyen
The trip from the east was finally over. The conference I had been attending had its high points and I had made a few valuable contacts but I was happy to be getting home. As I made the long drive from the airport to our new house in the suburbs, I realized how much I had missed Melinda on this trip. We had been together three years now, the three most satisfying years of our lives. Melinda had finished her nursing studies and was working at a hospital full-time.
It was the same hospital where Hanna worked. We kept in touch with old friends that way. I was also working full time at a software developer, producing user manuals in plain English, not nerdese. We were successes in the work world but, more importantly, we were a success as a couple. Right from the beginning, we knew we shared many of the same interests. In fact, we really didnât have too many outside interests or spent much time with other people. Probably being an interracial couple meant that we wouldnât have too many friends to begin with. An outsider would say that Melinda and I were too wrapped up in each other. Well, we liked it that way. We were friends and lovers all at the same time.
As I was driving, I mused about why we fit so well together even though our backgrounds, culture and race were different. Perhaps it was because we were different, we could supply each other things the other did not have. I could give Melinda the individualism and courage to stand up for herself that she lacked. Melinda gave me a sense of community and family and the wisdom to be humble when required. We were compatible by filling in each otherâs missing pieces so that the couple was perfect even if the individuals were imperfect.
This providing each other what was needed extended to our sex life. Melinda was less experienced than me and, well, I had a few women in my life. Surprisingly, Melinda was the more aggressive and adventurous of the two of us. I think I was the more passionate and caring one. Yes, your image of the Asian woman/European man relationship is probably the other way around. In our case, your image is wrong but it worked for us.
After being away a week from Melinda, I was missing her very much. I was getting excited, just thinking about caressing her silky smooth skin and muff diving that tight firm V in her beaver. I wanted to hear her pleading for my dick as I hadnât heard it for over a week. That wasnât the way it worked out that night. As I walked into our new house, expecting to be greeted with kisses and a Vietnamese banquet, Melinda instead treated me to some hot tongue and cold shoulder.
âYou bastard, you dirty bastard, you filthy bastard, you stinking bastard.â
Quite obviously, I was a bastard; the only question seemed to be what kind. I sensed that I should find out how I got to be a bastard. âMelinda, it would help if you would let me take off my coat and sit down so we can talk.â
âYou bastard, you lying bastard, you cheating bastard, you fucking bastard.â
This wasnât getting anywhere, so I hung up my coat, parked the suitcase out of the way and made some tea. I was hoping that Melinda would calm down a bit if I showed a bit of caring. Frankly, I had never seen Melinda angry before so this was a bit frightening as well as perplexing. It would take all my skill to get out of this one, whatever it was. I put the tea down on the living room table and settled in the other chair, facing my now hostile wife.
âMelinda, I might agree with you that Iâm a bastard if I only knew what it is that put me in the doghouse.â
âYou said I was the first oriental woman you ever had and now I find out you were screwing Mrs. Nguyen. How could you ever stick your dick in that old douche bag? Were you that desperate?â
I was floored. I was sure that nobody ever found out about that short affair. Nobody ever even mentioned Mrs. Nguyen after her sudden departure. I had to find out more.
âYes, itâs true I had an affair with Mrs. Nguyen and I didnât tell you the truth about you being my first oriental woman. Who told you about it? I need to know how you found out so I can correct any embellishmentâ
âYou told me yourself, you bastard son-of-a-prick, so itâs not embellished!â
âMelinda, Iâm more puzzled than ever. I just donât recall the conversation or maybe I was talking in my sleep. Let me try this way. What happened while I was away? Tell me. We have to get it out and discuss it.â
Melinda seemed to calm down a little and speak more slowly. âPaul, while you were away, I was so lonely without you. I really missed having you around in the evenings just to talk or watch TV. But what I missed the most was that big white dick of yours in bed with me. Our bed was so cold and lonely without you beside me. I wanted to hear your thoughts and I wanted you to make love to me. Then, in the middle of the week, I realized that I could have you and I could imagine you making love to me if only I could read your erotica. I remembered when I read your stories that you wrote about Hanna, how horny that made me. I thought that if I could read more of what you wrote, it would be second best to having you.â
âMelinda, why didnât you ask to read my erotica before now?â
âI always had the real thing so why take second best? It was different while you were away. I wanted to have you, even if it was only in print. I went to your den and started to look through your computer and I found where you keep all your erotic stories. I read all Hannaâs stories because I knew they were real. Then I read some of your fantasies and I loved those even more because you put yourself in them.