Kate and I spent a recent evening listening to old CDs until midnight. Some of the songs reminded me of when I was courting Kate and would make cassette tapes for her to play during her long work commute; the tapes were different genres, but most had a love theme. The (very) short story below is fiction; but grew out of my memories of making the tapes.
No sex below – you've been warned.
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Making a Tape
April, 2002
William 'Bill' Phearson woke up when the neighbor's dog wouldn't stop barking. Damn, it was such a great dream he was having. Maybe it had all been a dream; but he looked over at the other half of the king size bed and it was empty. No, not a dream; Kathryn was still gone.
Bill got out of bed and shuffled down to the kitchen. He looked out the window and his first option for the day just disappeared. The way he was feeling, it would have been a great day to take a few laps around Green Lake; eight miles could have released enough endorphins to get him past his funk. Unfortunately, running in the Seattle rain never did it for him, the run would just have to wait.
He put the kettle on, ground the coffee beans and when the water temperature reached two-hundred-six degrees, poured the water into the French Press. A creature of habit, Bill turned the radio on to the local Classic Rock station, KZOK, and stirred the coffee before pressing the plunger down on the carafe. A great cup of coffee to start another crappy day.
It was Saturday, Bill was trying to decide what to do when the radio played Gerry Rafferty's 'Baker Street', the saxophone reaching those high notes that could be so melancholy, almost as if the sax was trying to find a lost lover in the music. Bill went over to the CD rack and pulled the 'City to City' CD out. The second cut on the CD provided an incentive for this rainy, gloomy day. He would make Kathryn a tape.
Bill turned the radio off and powered up the tape and CD players. He knew what his first song would be. He put the CD in and started recording. Gerry's voice sang out the lyrics, "When I wanted you to share my life, I had no doubt in my mind, it's been you - woman, right down the line." The lyrics said it all. From that moment over twenty years ago when he realized he loved the young medical student, it had been her, and only her, as the woman he wanted to spend his life living with and loving.
Bill pulled his next selection down from the shelf, The Beatles White Album CD, Paul sings 'I Will'. Would Kathryn remember that night five years ago? They took a much-needed vacation without the twins and headed to one of the few places in the continental U.S. that guaranteed sun and warmth in January. That night in Miami, Kathryn surprised him by wearing a slim sundress that hugged her trim body; it buttoned down the front and Kathryn left the four top buttons undone, just the slightest hint of cleavage and her tan breasts.
Kathryn's breasts were tan because she had surprised Bill on the beach earlier that day by removing the bra and sunbathing topless. She only wore the skimpy bottoms, not a thong but still skimpy, on her otherwise naked body. Bill spent those two hours on the beach with a stupid grin on his face; he couldn't shake the thought of how the other surgeons at Harborview would react if they knew the conventional Doctor Phearson, mother of twins and one of the top reconstructive surgeons in Seattle, was now laying on the sand without a top.
And then that evening he received a second surprise when she walked out of the bedroom of their suite wearing the sundress, something he never thought he'd see her wear in public. They ate dinner and a band started to play oldie covers. When the female singer began 'I Will', Bill asked Kathryn to dance. As they danced in each other's arms, Kathryn whispered in Bill's ear, "Touch my bottom." Bill discreetly moved his hand down to Kathryn's bottom and stroked.
