Copyright 2000 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission author.
* * * * *
Martha’s cell phone rang. It was Steve taking a break back from whatever "wars" his company had him leading in parts unknown. Martha and Steve had been a number until he taken his new job fourteen months ago with its excessive travel schedule. No ring tied them, but few wed couples could claim the total commitment that they shared to that point.
Her car shuddered in the slip stream created as the eighteen-wheeler motored on its diesel roaring. Martha frantically turned up the windshield wipers’ speed as she was blinded as brown sloppy slush sprayed off the large tires.
Martha thought she could be the faithful SO while she saw Steve off for his protracted assignments where he flourished doing newspaper automation development projects. She withered in her stagnant job. The rift was slow to develop but as surely as darkness follows sunlight, their relationship went from ecstasy to forlornness. She hadn't seen or heard from Steve in ninety-two days, but who was counting.
Hearing his voice made Martha's heart ache for what had been and now was lost. She held her breath waiting for his edict on her future. She mused angrily to herself about why she let this man have such power over her when she was known as a leader in the rest of her life? Everyone said she was a natural leader. She hid her dissatisfaction at work well, but she knew she'd only coasted since Steve's coaching and cheerleading took wing.
"I just called to see what you are doing for the holiday, M," he said. He'd always called her M, just M, not Martha or Marty like everyone else.
Try as she might to be strong, the lump in her throat and the bubbling tears made it nearly impossible for her to sound detached as she whispered, "Where are you?" Even she didn't know where she hoped he was, her physical core ached to hear he was within touching range.
"Where would you like me to be, huh M?" He was baiting her like he always had. He loved to keep her off center. If she admitted it he was the taker and she'd always been the giver. She was determined not to give into him this time, the healing process had started. She wished he would've stayed away. Just yesterday she had met someone that set her heart aflutter and she and Tom would be at the same party tomorrow night. Martha had made up her mind if he asked, she'd go home with him. Now this tumultuous phone call.
She had to get off the freeway, Steve was taking all her concentration. She pulled off into the rest center which this late at night was virtually deserted though its powerful lights pushed back the darkness. Martha stopped away from the other cars, not wanting others to see her private tears.
In the distance Steve saw the signal light come on and he had to bite his curled finger to keep from laughing aloud. If she found out now it would ruin everything.
"Huh?" he repeated.
"I just had to get off the road. Why'd you call me on my cell? You know I've never been able to talk to you when I'm driving?
"Steve, did you get home to your Mom's for Christmas?" she asked as her way of narrowing down where he might be without naming that she wished he was within driving distance. To know he was that close would thrill her and infuriate her if he'd been here for days without calling her. The airways seemed to make his voice seem so close, but telecommunications did that sometimes.
"M, I've been in Singapore for what seems like forever, but I'm not there right now. No, I didn't make it home for Christmas either." She wasn’t even aware she'd held her breath until she the long sigh escaped.
"Which exotic location did you celebrate the day in this year?" Last year she'd flown to Sydney to spend two glorious weeks exploring the Great Barrier Reef. It was the best Christmas present possible, just having him all to herself in the sunshine. Now a year later, she sat forlornly amid snow banks watching the snow coat the windows cocooning her. That suited her just fine, she felt safer the more oblique the world came.
"Honolulu, but I didn't see much of it," he shared.
"Yeah, whatever," Martha said with a shrug. She wished she'd kept her mouth shut because hearing that he had spent the holiday in what had been their dream Christmas lotion, knowing he'd lived their dream without her, drove the proverbial stake deeper into her heart. She sat there fighting for composure.
"Why don't you restart the car? I don't want you catching a chill."
She laughed, he was making fun of her frugality. Martha thought an idling car was one of the great wastes of money. Steve was more concerned for the environment but it amounted to the same thing; idling cars were not in their lexicon. "We can't be that long, Steve. I'm expected at Jess' to help prepare for her annual bash," she said with resignation. Her life used to be too busy with Steve to have allowed her the time to help her sister cook for her big New Year's splash. Now she had lots of time on her hands and had gladly offered to lend a helping hand.
"Start the car, M." She started the car. The snow coating the windows allowed only an eerie translucent glow into the car. "Did you leave straight from work?"
"Why?"
"Did you?"
"Yes," she answered with a perplexed frown.
In contrast to her frown, Steve smiled. He pressed on with his plan. "What are you wearing, sweets?" The endearment was too much, a sob escaped. "No tears," he said sharply. It told Steve that she was not over him yet and that was good. He'd been afraid that she had also works and is less complicated] moved on in her life. The fact that she was helping her twin with the preparations said it all because M didn't share her twins domesticity. He knew he was free to proceed with his plan. Steve was a man of honor who knew if she had moved on he would have figuratively walked away.
"Take your panties off, M," Steve told her in his gentlest of voices. However it was the voice of her capitulation three years ago today.
"Steve," it came out strangled as she fell under his spell again.
"Please, for me."
Martha pushed the seat back, "I have my boots on?" She asked permission to remove them. Their lovemaking had been pretty vanilla but Steve was always the orchestrator. In the past they'd shared their lovemaking in the Botanical Gardens with the lilacs perfuming the air and shielding them from the hordes. If anyone had looked closely they could be seen. The only one to acknowledge their copulation was an elderly couple. He clapped; his wife dragged him away clucking her tongue. Steve and Martha had listened as the old gent reminded his life partner of the day he'd asked for her hand and in place of a ring he'd taken her virginity among the roses as the sun set.
"Take them off, M." All too often over the fourteen months the only lovemaking that had been available to them was directed masturbation. Martha complied, his voice simply excited her so much.
He could imagine her frantic gyrations as she fought the steering wheel for supremacy. "OK, Steve, my panties are off." She was glad for the hands free feature.
"Hang them on the mirror, sweets." She blushed at the thought even though she knew no one could see in her cocoon. She hooked the flimsy white lace thong panties over the mirror. She could smell her arousal.
"Blouse or sweater? Color?"
"Red camisole, the one you bought me in Sydney on my last day," she answered hoping that he'd feel duly guilty for his recent neglect. "With my black suit."
Steve could still visualize M twirling around the lingerie story modeling the wispy red top. "The one we bought at that upscale shop in Boston?" he laughingly asked as he realized much of her wardrobe was bought as pacifiers for his extended absences. She laughed, his guilt built. Martha never asked for anything or whined about his neglect and that just added to his guilt. She didn't answer. He knew he was right; it was a favorite of hers.
He chuckled to himself thinking how flaming red M’s face would be when she found out the truth about Honolulu. If the damn plane hadn’t developed mechanical problems he won’t have spent Christmas Day in the Radisson alone watching the surf break on the beach. Nor would he have sat at the airport wishing he was somewhere else.
"Take off the jacket, remove your camisole and bra then put the jacket back on. Hurry so you don't get too cold," he authoritatively said. He could almost see her looking around her cocoon to see if she'd be visible to anyone. He heard a click and knew that she had relocked the doors.
