It's a Place of Beauty - Theresa

This story, like 'Early Rideout' is birthed in 'It's A Place Of Beauty' and picks up with Darrell's 1st wife several years later. There is not a lot of sex in the tale, much like the protagonist's own life over the past several years leading up to this. If there was to be a burning of the bitch it would have occurred many years before these events and circumstances. Instead I prefer to deal with maturity, even that gained at a heavy price as with Theresa Carson.

A woman's solace begins with her own penance

I hit the electronic lock for the front door on my phone and turned toward the parking lot after a long, busy week showing one property after another to a steady stream of both lookers and buyers. The buyers knew what it took to get in. The lookers just wanted a peek at something they understood was probably beyond their reach unless they were willing to extend themselves onto the fringes of financial solvency.

I've been through the highs and the lows of this market and right now, we are on the cusp of a high. Buyers have money and sellers are moving which makes for a healthy uptick for me. The last couple I showed this afternoon was the moneyed variety; he was a retired broker from New York moving down here to Charleston to enjoy the charm of the Holy City. She was eye candy; half his age and with twice the stamina. I suppose that's why they make the little blue pills; the recreational drug of choice for mature and middle aged males.

Regardless if he buys it or not, she will have her hands full. He is the touchy feely kind of guy. You know the kind; the one that have their hands drifting down where they don't belong when they think no one is watching. That was him; in the bedroom while she was in the kitchen. He learned I'm not that kind of woman. Besides, I'm almost as old as he is. Why bother?

The name plate on the business says my name is Theresa Carson. My driver's license tells me I'm 58 years old, 5'2" and weigh 122 lbs. with a picture that reveals well colored blond hair and blue eyes. The letter in my hand has my daughter Kelsey's name on it and it's about to be mailed to her home in Portland, Maine. Inside it is a birthday card and gift card for her and a matching one for my granddaughter whose birthday will be exactly one week later. That makes it all neat and tidy. My husband's name is Darrell. Unfortunately for me, I'm just no longer married to him...

I heard his light footsteps well before he thought he snuck up behind me.

"So, beautiful, what do you say about joining me over at the Governors Stand for a drink and wind down with a couple of us boys after this long damn week?"

He was charming, salt and pepper hair and steel grey eyes if they could be called that. He had been hitting on me for the past couple of months and I always give him the same response.

"I need to get home and take care of my cat, Charlie. Besides, isn't your wife expecting diamonds and roses tonight?"

The married tomcat didn't miss a step.

"She's working the night shift at Roper, won't be home until after 6 tomorrow morning."

His wife is a charge nurse at one of the hospitals. It's my guess she has no idea what time Charlie warms his bed or who with while she's out busting her ass. But, I'm a diplomat and just smile and wave as I hop into my Honda and head down towards the Old Village. I've dealt with the Charlies and others for years now. They are all the same; scratch an itch with a piece of ass and hope they don't get caught. I should know, I used to play with the type years ago and it cost me my marriage and everything I held dear including my career and every bit of my self- respect. So, no, Charlie stood no chance of peeling this old lady's panties off tonight or any other night.

I pulled into my driveway and parked under the giant live oak that shaded my little 19th century craftsman home here in Mt. Pleasant, SC. I really did need to feed my cat, a large female Maine Coon Cat that Kelsey got for me about ten years ago when I was fighting breast cancer. Her name is Kitty and she is HUGE and hungry.

I made my way around the backside of the house with two sacks of groceries in my arm and a set of keys in my hand and as I was just getting ready to push the key in the lock, I saw him. I almost dropped my groceries in surprise. He was sitting in the rocker next to my garden pond.

"Darrell?" I asked with a blend of shock and curiosity.

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My God, it had been thirteen years since I last saw him. Of course we had talked on the phone occasionally and we kept in touch with cards during the seasons but I had not laid eyes on him since I gave him the final divorce decree papers in my old apartment. That was a bad day for me but one that I needed to go through to bring me back to any sense of reality. I had thrown my husband away and another woman, a really good one, had rescued him from my thoughtless disregard.

He had come down to Charleston with Sally, his soon to be new wife, to enjoy a bit of sun and surf after a long winter in the woods of Maine and to see our daughter, Kelsey. I never did see them together but Kelsey informed me that the two of them were expecting a baby in a few months and were getting married.

I guess that's the kind of news that puts the glue to the closed books of failed relationships. It certainly wasn't a surprise. I had met Sally earlier when I had to humble myself and take Kelsey to her Dad. That's a long story of its own. Fortunately, the two of them were able to reconnect and heal together. Being the one who inflected the wounds on both of them, all I could do was retreat back into my own dark cloud.

Being the cheating spouse is a hard thing to live with once remorse and guilt open one's eyes to the destruction wrought at your own hand. Admitting why you did it can be worse. For me, I was a prostitute. I whored my body for personal favor and advancement. I didn't start sober and calculating. If it were that, there could be little in the way of forgiveness. Instead I victimized myself with alcohol and allowed a Sr. VP of Marketing in an up and coming company use his thumbs to pull the lavender panties off my married pussy and sink his prick deep inside, naked and unprotected. He took it, used it and returned it sated from his desires. He did it several more times before he promoted me and another VP in the company took his place.

That cycle went on for over three years before I finally went over the deep end and filed for divorce from the only man of the bunch who actually loved me. I didn't just file. I debased myself with overkill and scorched the earth. How Darrell can ever stand to talk to me after all of that is a miracle but he does even after all these years.

A lot has happened since I left him 14 years ago. Darrell and Sally married and had a beautiful baby girl named Samantha Jade. Kelsey has been the best grown up big sister a little girl could ever have. She stays with them during some of her vacations from school up in Portland. Kelsey and her husband Dan have a little girl of their own named Miriam who is now five years old.

As for myself, I've gone the old maid route. I've had one man who loved me unconditionally and I threw that away for a career I lost in the end anyway. It was all for nothing. Honestly, I don't have any interest in another man. I could care less how big his prick is or how fat his wallet is or where the fuck he works. I don't care how many times he would cross the oceans blue, they always want just one thing, my pussy. Well, my pussy is 58 years old now and hasn't been touched by a man in almost 14 years. I guess if I live to my life expectancy of 78 she will have been happily chaste for well over 3 decades. If I was a Catholic, I should be a fucking nun.

That wasn't enough for God though. Not only am I to be chaste, but I get to do it without my natural breasts. Ten years ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer; lumps in each breast. It was second stage and not dispersed. The surgery was not totally radical and after reconstruction, I don't look much different than before although they are an interesting conversation piece among my girlfriends. I've been in remission long term now since the surgery but, you know, there is always that nagging fear it will come back. Until then I admire my reconstructed non-sagging 36 C cup tits every morning.

I think it had been maybe six months, perhaps longer, since I had talked with Darrell. It was our usual kind of call. He was checking on my health and I just enjoyed hearing his voice. Oddly, the only time I ever allowed myself to become melancholy over what I had thrown away was after these calls. I used to torture myself thinking he did it only to rub it in but that's not who Darrell is. He had another reason, not just out of concern, but I never pressed him on it. I was just happy to talk to him a couple times a year and chat about Kelsey and Miriam and his Samantha and Sally. I always wished nothing but happiness for him.

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"Darrell?" I asked again with a blend of shock and curiosity.

He looked at me wistfully and lifted the bag of groceries from my arms as I turned the key in the lock. Kitty ran to the door and rubbed her long mixed fur against my leg and looked cautiously at the strange man in the doorway before scampering off to the hallway. We got the groceries onto the counter and I turned toward him. He looked tired and worn. His hair was heavily salt and pepper now yet still distinguished looking. His blue eyes still reflected the soulfulness of who he was and he retained his trim and fit physique. But, there was trouble in his eyes. He looked at me, almost peering into me.

"Sally died last month, Theresa."

I know my hand went to my mouth immediately as I watched him slump into one of the kitchen chairs. I was literally unable to speak because the words would not form in my mouth. He slid an envelope across the table to me.

"Sally wanted you to have this. I haven't opened it. It was private to you. Just so you know, she insisted I tell you personally after I had time to grieve and she swore Kelsey to keep silent on the matter as well."

I watched a solitary tear roll down his cheek as he continued.

"There wasn't a funeral. She wanted to be cremated and her desire was for Sam and me to go spend the month at the cottage and when we had grieved, to spread her ashes on the West Grand. Kelsey joined the two of us last weekend and that's what we did with Early and his wife watching on the shore. Sam is staying with Kelsey and Dan until I return for her."

I was standing in shock while he told me this and hadn't moved an inch with my hand still to my mouth. Without thinking much, I opened the cupboard and retrieved a bottle of aged rum and two shot glasses. It was nearly 25 years old now and it was time to open the seal. I took a seat on the side next to him and poured two shots while looking into his sorrowful eyes.

"Here is to a beautiful woman, Darrell ... Sally Carson."

We tipped up the shots, consumed them and then his shoulders heaved with a sob and my ex-husband broke down in renewed grief as I sat closely and held his hands, my own tears washing our fingers. When we were married, he was always the strong partner, almost stoic in resolve. Now, my self- inflicted callousness gave me the strength. How odd that is for the offender to be able to comfort the offended. I suppose offense like grief is healed with time and a measure of forgiveness.

We composed ourselves and Darrell actually smiled and thanked me for being understanding. He didn't need to thank me. I didn't understand anything. I just know someone I loved was grieving for a tremendous loss and I could be there for him. Eventually he told me the story.

"She had lung cancer, Theresa. Nine weeks after she was diagnosed, she was gone. The doctors told us it was a very fast progression cancer and we didn't have long. They were correct; God damn doctors."

He actually smiled.

"It was enough time for her to do what she wanted which was simple. She just wanted to visit with her sister one more time and spend the rest of the time at the cottage. It was hard on her sister. She ended up coming to the cottage with us for some of the time, except for the last two weeks. Sally wanted to be alone with Sam and I. Her sister Sue understood. Jesus it was hard, Theresa, so much harder than when my Dad died. We had so much time with him and next to nothing with Sally. But it worked out in the end, it really did."

My God, I just wanted to take Darrell in my arms and comfort him like I would a child but I had sacrificed that right a long time ago. I looked at the clock and a couple hours had passed during our conversations.

"Darrell, where are your things? Are they in the car? Jesus, how did you get here?"

My mind was still numb from the revelations.

"I have a rental I picked up at the airport earlier, Theresa. I've got a room reserved at the Hilton Garden Inn down near the Ravenel Bridge."

"Darrell, will you please stay here? I have two extra rooms where Kelsey, Dan and Miriam stay when they are here. Please?" I asked him.

I didn't think he would at first but he nodded softly.

"Great, let's go get your things .. in the car? Good. "

So we did and after we got his bags and everything into my larger guest room, we needed something to eat. I was actually famished and it was nearly 8PM by then. Darrell cancelled his reservation and I called over to the Long Point Grill to get a late table.

When I woke the next morning, the sun was trying to stream in through my closed blinds and when I welcomed the bright rays into the room I could see Darrell already up and outside in the back yard working on fixing my little gazebo. He always was a morning person.

I started a pan of old English sausages and scrambled a bowl of eggs, cheese and veggies mixed with a bit of cream for the waffle iron. Along with hot coffee and apple cider, breakfast was ready for the two of us 20 minutes later. We enjoyed it on the patio overlooking the construction project he started earlier.

"My God this place has grown so much."

"Darrell, you haven't seen anything yet. North Charleston all the way out to Summerville and beyond has just mushroomed over the last 5 or 6 years. The economic growth just keeps bringing more and more people into the area. You know, they widened Rt. 17 nearly all the way to Awendaw or so it seems. They built a new high school out there and there are new subdivisions all over the place; phenomenal growth."

"You still surfing, Theresa?"

"Oh yeah, nearly every weekend except in the winter. I've got an extra short board. Want to go? The washout will be good on Folly about noontime."

I had no expectation he would want to but he agreed so that is what we did and we had a blast. When we were married, the three of us including Kelsey would surf the washout all summer long. Kelsey tried to get Dan into it but the truth was he just plain sucked at it which meant he wasn't going to like it. Darrell on the other hand took to it as soon as we moved to Charleston many years ago. He even made his own paddle board and would cruise Shem Creek after work.

The memories were taxing to me because I had to remind myself that Darrell was now a widower and not even close to being over his grieving process. I wondered why Sally had told him to deliver her letter to me personally. I had set it on my dresser with no intention of opening it while Darrell was still here. I needed the privacy I thought the contents might contain.

The rest of the afternoon was spent soaking up the sun and stopping off at the Biergarten over on East Bay. We arrived at my home around 8PM, slightly sunburned and both tired and famished. After showering, we grilled wings and relaxed out back before Darrell called it a night.

Whatever misgivings I had to open Sally's letter before Darrell left evaporated when he told me he was going to try to fly back the next morning. I had no illusions about his visit and I hadn't raised any hopes. I felt incredibly saddened by his loss and knew there would be a long healing recovery and that he also needed to get back to his little girl. They would need each other in the coming weeks and months. Nonetheless my heart ached with a tinge of melancholy when he did fly out of Charleston.

He called me when he arrived to let me know he had travelled safely. Afterwards I sat in my rocker toying with the envelope trying not to read it. Finally I used a letter opener and loosened the seal carefully. Inside, I found a letter and a family portrait of the four of them taken at the lake last summer. She had included Kelsey in the picture. Setting the letter aside, I took the portrait and after finding a suitable frame placed it on the mantle in my living room. When I was comfortable, I began reading the letter.

Dear Theresa,

I know that by the time you are able to read these heartfelt words, I will have passed from this life leaving behind a wonderful husband and a beautiful daughter to fend on their own in this odd world. Now I know we are never fending things just by ourselves. There are so many friends and neighbors and acquaintances we embrace over a lifetime that we are never alone if we know to reach out. Nonetheless, my heart grieves that I will not be with them.

I remember telling you how I met Darrell and how I found myself falling in love with him over that summer even though I never told him until long afterwards. I know how you felt when you first fell in love with him and I know how you feel never having stopped loving him. I saw it in your eyes that day at Early's. I heard it in your voice when we talked on the phone that evening years ago.

Theresa, as horrible as your sin was to him, I can tell you from the bottom of my heart that Darrell never stopped loving you. When you were going through your battle with cancer, he pestered Kelsey day and night for news, praying it was good. When he heard you were in remission he walked around the cottage and the lake with the biggest smile on his face. Through it all, I never had any concern for his love for me. He is a man who gives 110% of himself to the love of his life. I've been the love of his life for 13 years now but you need to know that you were the same for 20 years. A man doesn't just throw that away.

He forgave you, Theresa, for everything. There isn't a single thing he holds against you in his heart. Oh, he isn't going to forget just like my Dad didn't forget when my mom did something similar. I don't think you can burn memories away. They become part of who we are and were. In your case, I believe they are part of who you were and not who you are.

I asked him to do some things after I was gone. One was to bring this letter to you in person so that you could see him again however briefly. The second was that when he took me out onto the lake that final time I wanted him to cast those memories, the sins and the troubles of everything into the waters along with me. I wanted him to have a fresh start and not be constrained by anything. When I sent him to you to bring this letter, I wanted him to see the woman who still loved him and cared for him and not be clouded by what you once did and what you once were.

I hope you can understand what I'm trying to say. I'm not very good at this so, hell, I'll just tell you. Don't let him drift off alone, Theresa. He's prone to do that and he is going to need some help. Call him up once in a while to see how he is doing. The two of you have a bond that couldn't be broken even though it never once interfered with my life with him. Drag him home with you to nurture him if you have to. I don't want him to become a lonely man, Theresa.