Chapter 15: A Circle of Friends
The drive across Boulder at dusk is always beautiful. The mountains are silhouetted by the setting sun, and the sky glows all colors of orange, yellow, and red. It is a liminal time, a time when I find myself daydreaming. The ancient Celts believed the time of the gloaming was when the veil between the worlds was the thinnest, and that one should be the most careful to avoid confrontations with spirits and the like. Me, I just found myself often melancholy.
That last few days had sped by me so fast that I found myself reeling from the ride and grasping for some kind of firm ground. I had lost the grounding of my home, confronted enemies, and slept with two women whom I never believed I would ever be intimate with. In fact the only one of the group of my four best friends I hadn't slept with was the one I most wanted too. Though, if I was to be honest with myself, once I slept with her, if it ever happened mind you, I think my days of carousing would be over.
The connection I now felt to Susan and Ellen was very strange. With almost no effort I could turn my attention to them, and I could know a very general idea of their well-being. I could sense their emotional and physical state, but only at the most general of levels. I found it comforting in one sense because I knew if they were okay, but I also was troubled wondering if it opened up any exposures for us against Dolkoff.
As I turned off the hill and onto the campus I found myself thinking about my evening with Meg that lay ahead. If Ellen was right, she was going to be rather friendly this evening, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I think that my feelings for her were rather big brotherly, and that the role I had played in protecting her had contributed to that in a big way.
Then, on another front I think I was suffering from intimacy overload. You may find it hard to believe that a man could grow weary of too much sex, but if it is with a number of people you are emotionally very connected with, it can be very tiring. Just the emotional strain is overwhelming. I think I was also at this point, a bit freaked out by the way things had developed, and I thought that I may have completely screwed myself in ever having a relationship with Jill. I was quite sure she was not going to be pleased at the idea of me sleeping with Tuyen, Ellen and Suzan. Add Kelly and now maybe Meg to the list and I felt rather decidedly like a slut.
Still another part of me wondered what was so horrible about it. Maybe it wasn't my actions so much as the way society made me feel about it. Being a product of my society, I was feeling awfully conflicted about my sexual activity of late.
I pulled up in front of Meg's place and found a place to park. Walking into the building, I passed a number of young college kids. You ever notice that as you age the age at which you think of people as "kids" becomes older and older? Since when did a 22-year-old college woman become a kid? I guess since I became a 30 something.
I walked up several sets of stairs to Meg's floor. The grad student housing was really more like a nice apartment building than a dorm. I found myself nervous and agitated as I walked toward Meg's door, fighting with my clothing and smoothing my hair. Then I felt this wave of support and calming fill me. I stopped dead in my tracks in the hall. Through my bond with Ellen and Suzan was trickling a strong feeling of support and reassurance. I shook my head in amazement. They must have felt my agitation as I came here, and now they were giving me their support. I lowered my shield and sent a strong pulse of thankfulness, and happiness back down that thin line to them. I felt a thin trickle of humor back from them before it faded back to the more normal background level of connection. They must have other things to pay attention too.
I walked the remaining distance to Meg's door, took a deep breath and knocked. You always hear these silly clichés in stories or books about women being the vision of loveliness, or an aspect of desire come to life, and they always come across as cheesy as hell. Still, one of those types of sayings would apply here.
When she had come to the antique shop the other day, she looked very nice. She really was a tiny woman, both in height and in frame. I think I have already mentioned that I preferred a woman with a little more curve and softness, like Jill, but she was still gorgeous.
She wore a grey dress, not nice enough to be formal, but like one of those dresses from a $300 dress store on the mall. I am no fashion designer, but let me try to describe it to you. It was like a sun dress, but more fitted to her small frame. It went down to the top of her knee, and showed off her pale but beautiful legs. It hugged her hips and narrow waste before swooping over her breasts.
Her breasts were large for her frame, but nothing like Kelly's or Susan's monsters. Still, on her they looked larger then they were, and very shapely. The neck line of her dress gave just a hint of cleavage before the straps swept back over her small shoulders and around her graceful neck. As she saw me, she smiled and stepped out to give me a hug. I could feel her shake slightly at the contact.
"Hey Mike. I'm glad you could make it," she said quietly as she stepped back from me.
"Hey, miss the company of a beautiful woman, not likely," I said smiling as she held the door open for me.
The small apartment was conservatively furnished. I imagined most of the furnishings probably came with the place, but it still had a definite feminine feel to it. She had set the atmosphere in the place for the evening. Candles burned from all sides of the small place, and the dinning table which sat between the small kitchen and the sitting area glittered with crystal and candlelight.
"Wow Meg. Your place looks great. It looks like you've been here for years not months." She fidgeted as she smiled at the compliment.
"Thanks, I think some of that is my mother's influence. She stayed with me for a few days after...well she has always had a way of making a place feel homey. I need to check on dinner. I'll be right back." As she walked away, I could see an almost imperceptible shake of her head, as if she was chastising herself.
I sat on her comfy couch, and pulled her note to me. The amount of anxiety in her was startling. She was at the moment feeling a large degree of self contempt for what she felt was her miss handling of my arrival. What was causing this girl so much consternation? I reached out and tried to still her fears, to let calm radiate through her. I am afraid it was a losing battle. She was so full of worries and fears that I felt like I was playing missile command. As soon as one anxiety was stilled, two more popped up in their place.
Meg came back in carrying a bottle and two wine glasses. I smiled at her as she hurried over to where I sat. She looked stressed, and I did my best to calm her mind.
"I thought you might like a glass of wine while I finish getting dinner ready. It will only be another 10 minutes," she said haltingly.
"That would be nice, thanks Meg."
She set the glasses on the coffee table and proceeded to wrestle the cork out of the bottle. It looked like she had removed it earlier, and had pushed it back in enough to keep until she served it, as she was struggling to pull the protruding cork with her small fingers. I could feel the embarrassment rising in her mind, and I marveled that she was so worried about something so little. This was going to take extreme measures I thought.
The cork came out suddenly, and Meg lost control of the bottle from the force she had been applying. The bottle spun forward discharging a large stream of red wine across me, the couch and finally her shoes and the carpet.
