The pen Gwyn gave me when I graduated with my MBA was way too expensive to use, but when two of the cheap ballpoints and the microball we had around the office crapped out I didn't have a choice. I was surprised how it felt in my hand: it was smooth but secure, perfectly-balanced, and the ink just flowed beautifully. All it took was one paper check (who uses those any more?) to the gardener, and by the time I had signed my name I vowed to never use another pen for the rest of my life. Gwyn had smiled when I opened her gift and told her the pen was beautiful, but she beamed with pride and excitement when she saw me using it a year later and I told her how much I liked it.
I wish I'd had it to sign my divorce papers.
* * * * *
I met Gwyn right after college. We had mutual friends. We were all decompressing from four years of late nights alternately partying and studying, so we'd hang out at the lake or at someone's house or find a bar or dance club to enjoy the last time we'd have so much freedom. Many of us had job offers, others were heading to grad school in the fall, and the couple of us who didn't have firm plans were going to have to get serious about developing them when the summer ended.
I had gone to school since third grade with two friends who were twin brothers -- Jeff and Paul, who we always called Mutt (for obvious reasons) -- and since their parents were Catholic they had five sisters too. Their lake cottage was bigger than most because of the size of their family, so that's where we often headed. It was a Tuesday, about midsummer, when Mutt and Jeff picked me up in their old station wagon -- a great car for a lot of reasons, but mainly because it held a ton of people and gear for whatever we wanted to do -- and after a stop for a case of beer and three bags of ice to keep it cool we drove up to the lake.
Mutt and Jeff were fraternal twins, and you never met two guys who were more opposite but still completely in sync. Mutt was dark-haired and brown-eyed, a bit reserved, but bitingly funny when he did talk. Jeff was blond with hazel eyes, always yakking, everybody's friend. Mutt did the logistics, while Jeff was the people guy.
Jeff was on the phone for the whole two hours up to the lake, spreading the word among our friends who were in town. Mutt got us there before anyone else arrived, so we prepped the pontoon boat with coolers for food and drink. Our timing was good, because as soon as we were done the people started rolling in. Within forty-five minutes we had about eighteen people running about getting snacks, beer, waters, sodas, footballs, towels, sunscreen, bathing suits, and who-knows-what-else onto the boat, with Mutt trying desperately to organize us. After another chaotic fifteen minutes, we were all on the boat (except for Jim who was in the house using the bathroom when we cast off and had to dive from the dock and swim to catch up to us) and heading out for another great summer day on the water.
When you grow up in a small city for your whole life you tend to know a lot of folks, and those you don't know you can at least recognize from years spent on sports teams, band concerts, debate clubs, theater shows, birthday parties, or even just walking around the mall. I knew everyone on the boat that day at least by sight, except for two women who arrived with Jenny Ortega. Besides Jenny, Mutt, and Jeff, my core crew was repped by Angie, Leif, Tony, Brian, and Billie, all of whom I'd known since elementary school. Everyone else there I met during junior high or high school. None of us were hardbodies, but we were pretty active young adults, so we were all reasonably fit and attractive enough.
One of the new women was tall and willowy, with blond hair the color of straw and pale blue eyes that were so clear they were a little unnerving. The other was shorter and rounder, with thick black hair, a constant smile that said she knew something both secret and hilarious, and dark brown eyes that just danced with mischief.
I was never a Casanova. I dated enough in high school, and while I had three sustained relationships with women in college, there were plenty of Friday nights that I spent reluctantly with my buddies and roommates. When I saw Gwyn though, I was drawn to her, and surprisingly I wasn't the least bit nervous when I walked right over to where she was sitting with Jenny and the tall waif.
"Hey, Jenny. When are we getting married?" I'd known Jenny since kindergarten, and when we were in junior high school we pretend-promised that we'd marry each other if we couldn't find another partner. We never once dated, and we were so comfortable with each other because of it.
"Give me another few days. I'm still hoping David Henrie hasn't lost my cell number."
I laughed, but so did Gwyn, which surprised me. I turned to her and extended my hand.
"I'm Pete, and you're new to this crew."
"Nice to meet you, Pete, and you're quite the poet. I'm Gwyn, and this is Eliza."
I laughed again, and so did she. "Poet? Sadly, no. Finance major. A monkey with a typewriter is more creative than me. How do you fit in with all this?"
Jenny jumped in before Gwyn could respond. "Gwyn's my cousin, and Eliza is her college roommate. They're driving to Toronto. Eliza has a job there."
"What will you be doing, Eliza?" I asked, mostly out of politeness. She'd have plenty of admirers today, but long and lean is not my type. Gwyn's more Rubenesque figure is much more attractive to me.
"Voice recognition and AI. I studied Linguistics, and I was hired by a start-up trying to build more accurate voice interfaces for cars, appliances, and pretty much anything you have to interact with."
"Wow. Didn't think it possible, but Finance is suddenly even more boring," I said, shrugging a little. Looking again at Gwyn again, I said, "And I suppose you're a world-renown pianist or a medical researcher solving that cancer thing."
Gwyn giggled and answered, "Really? That cancer thing? I might need a grant to study guys who suffer from a stunted vocabulary. It could save millions of you."
It turns out that Gwyn was really a business major and was looking for positions in marketing or sales. It didn't take me long to see that her natural effervesence and energy would serve her well in those kind of jobs. She was exactly what you think of when someone says "live wire": super fun and very witty, and she made me laugh hard many times that day. I'm not sure I said more than a dozen words to anyone other than Gwyn. While everyone on the pontoon kind of rotated by, and Jeff and our friends Tiffany (who followed me around most of high school senior year) and Kevin (who ran cross-country and track with Mutt and me) sat with us for quite a while, I didn't stray farther than three feet from Gwyn the whole afternoon and into evening. When we did part at dusk I had her number and she had mine, and we seemed equally thrilled by it.
Gwyn's family home was 45 minutes away from mine, so we were close enough to make the drive regularly, but not so close that we were likely to see each other accidentally, which on balance is probably a pretty good thing for a budding romance. Less chance for misunderstandings or silly jealousies to pop up during those awkward first days and weeks.
As a couple, we clicked from the very start, and after a couple of dates I knew this woman was it for me. She was so vibrant and lively, just a constant breeze of attentiveness mixed with teasing and joy. Gwyn was so spontaneous, adventurous, always up for anything, which complemented my more deliberate approach to things. We shared tastes in music (singer-songwriters and bluegrass) and food (Thai and Vietnamese along with American comfort dishes). We had common interests in hiking, lake swimming, horror movies and TV sitcoms, and not only did we both like dogs, we both liked shepherds. And her large, expressive eyes, her sensuous mouth, her sleek neck, and her womanly curves kept me physically aroused whenever she was near me. t's fair to say I was well-smitten, and she seemed just as into me.
* * * * *
We'd been out at least a half-dozen times by ourselves and another half-dozen group dates with our sprawling gang of friends and acquaintances before I brought up being exclusive. I was a little nervous, of course -- even though I was confident she felt strongly about me, there's nothing like making yourself vulnerable to realize you're never one-hundred percent certain about anything.
We'd gone for a casual dinner and then an above-average slasher movie, and we were parked in her parents' driveway in front of their dark house. We'd been making out for a half-hour or so, I'd had my hands on her large round breasts and brought her off with my fingers in her panties while she moaned and panted in my ear. While I didn't mind not getting mine then -- I'd get my rocks off by my own hand later -- I had other things on my mind too. We slowly disengaged from our kissing as Gwyn regained her bearings following my intense fingerbanging.
"God, your fingers are so amazing," she said, breathing hard. "I love how you do that to me."
"And I love doing it to you. You smell so rich, and I want to taste you too. You drive me insane with how hot you are."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, young man. " She was so sultry when we did anything sexual, and her soft but insistent kiss kept me steel strong. "Although you might kill me if you use these lips down there."
"I'd really like to do that to you," I whispered. "Do you want to go away for a weekend before I start my job? I'd really like to spend some dedicated time with you to explore you completely."
"Oh, I think that's a great idea! Where did you have in mind?"
There was a resort on a private lake about three hours away. It wouldn't be cheap, but then I did want our first time together to be very special, and I've always believed you get what you pay for.
"I was thinking Malone's. It's getting to the end of the season, so I'm sure we can find room."
"Ooooh, you know just what to say to get my attention, soldier. I've always wanted to go there! Have you been up there before?"
"No, never. My folks went for one of their anniversaries. Gave it rave reviews. Said it was perfect for special occasions."
"So you don't take all your girls there?"
