Blindsided Ch. 03

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Marie tries to start a new life, but the old one intrudes.
3.8k words
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 11/22/2005
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patricia51
patricia51
1,903 Followers

I drove with great determination and absolutely no idea of where I was going. I just wanted to be someplace else and I was getting there quickly. I drove down the interstate highways all day. I pulled into a well-lighted rest area and there, ignoring the sign that said "No Overnight Parking", I slept.

Maybe I should have found a hotel room, but I didn't want to use my credit card, certainly not until I could make arrangements to have the bill forwarded wherever I finally ended up. I didn't want to leave a paper trail. I felt like a fugitive, which I suppose in a way I was, a fugitive from my former life.

Surprisingly, I slept soundly and didn't wake up until the sun roused me. I waited until the restrooms open and freshened up and hit the road again. I simply followed the highway, going South and East until I reached the sea, three states away from where I had started my journey. Here, in the small town I found myself, I would start my life over.

First things first. Well, there were a lot of first things. I needed a place to live, I needed a job, I needed a doctor. Amazingly, my luck seemed to have changed with travel, because all three fell into line, one after the other. A casual remark by one of the county's deputy sheriffs led me to a perfect small apartment, the converted coach house of a sprawling old house owned by a delightful elderly couple. Not only did they make me feel welcome, they put me in touch with the owner of a local grocery store who needed a bookkeeper. Mr. Shaptner, the store owner, introduced to me to a female Emergency Room Doctor who held night childbirth classes, for free, which fit well into my budget.

I worked, I ate. I did the exercises and took the vitamins the doctor recommended. At first, I spent most of the my evenings at home. I didn't bother with TV, finding that I enjoyed listening to the radio and reading. Since I was being careful with money, that led me to the local library. The first night I walked in on a literary discussion group, and there went my Thursday nights from then on.

As difficult as it was, I made arrangements with the adoption agency that my doctor gently steered me to when I finally broached the subject with her. Maybe it was weakness, but I knew I wasn't able to bear the strain of being a single mother of a bi-racial child. I feared that I would be resentful, that I would heap my own failings and the collapse of my old life on an innocent child. Much better to find a home where that child could grow up in safety and love.

I often thought about Ivan, at first anyway. I wondered how he was coping. Was he sad, was he upset at my leaving? Or did he regard my departure as "good riddance"? I had not left a note or any farewell message. I know I had hurt him terribly but he had hurt me back. I had certainly not expected him to forget, nor to forgive without a lot of work on my part, but things had gone from bad to worse. It probably was just as well it was over, for both our sakes.

Still though, I missed him. Many were the nights that I would close my eyes, slide my hand between my legs, and dream of him while I masturbated. But they became fewer and fewer. I had deliberately not brought any pictures of him from my house. I didn't want to remind myself of what I had lost.

Once I had settled in, I took steps to wind up my old life. I used one of the computers at the library to check the public records at the courthouse of my old residence. They showed that my divorce was finalized. I drove for an hour to a small city a couple of counties away and rented a box from "Mailboxes, etc." and used it to send for a copy of the divorce decree. Once that had arrived, I took the steps needed to reclaim my maiden name. I was no longer "Mrs. Cooper" I was back to "Ms. Wolcott".

I was settled in now, and comfortable, if not happy. I had made friends, I even went on a couple of dates. Of course my increasingly prominent belly didn't make for great slow dancing, much less any sexual offers. So I continued to sleep alone and rock my own boat. As good as I was getting with my fingers though, I missed having someone else rock me.

Then one morning I was adding up sales figures and searching for an invoice I could not find, my feet were suddenly wet. My water had broken. I was frantic. I was two weeks premature and had not had the final meeting with the adoption agency. Well, too late for that, as the contractions began and Mr. Shaptner called for an ambulance and his wife held my hand.

I won't go into the details that every woman who has ever given birth knows. Suffice it to say, it wasn't long before I really wished I had never laid eyes on my ex-husband, his friends or any other male on the planet. But I persevered. Its not like you can actually stop.

I finally managed to give that one last push. I heard a wail as my baby took its first breath. I sagged back in relief.

"Ms. Wolcott?"

"Yes?" I managed to answer.

"You have a beautiful baby boy." And with that the nurse laid a blanket wrapped bundle in my arms.

Oh no! I wasn't supposed to see him. I found out later my premature labor had caught the adoption agency and the doctor off guard. Instead of being whisked away immediately, I was holding him.

I tried to tell myself I wouldn't look at him. I knew if I spent even a little time I wouldn't be able to let him go. But my eyes were drawn to him, and I looked.

He WAS beautiful. His eyes were closed tightly. He had ten perfect little fingers. I unwrapped the blanket to see ten matching perfect toes. He was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen in my life.

And he was white.

Somehow, my hands moved of their own accord even as my brain refused to accept the sight before my eyes. I carefully rolled my baby boy onto his tummy and looked at the small of his back. The tiny irregular red mark was there.

All I could think of was, "That son of a BITCH!"

I was still in a daze when I checked out of the hospital along with Master Clifford Wolcott. Since I hadn't expected to keep him I had never thought of a name for my child. It had been easy though, once I thought. I had named him for my father. He and my mother had both passed away during my college years. And Clifford's last name was mine, not the man who was responsible for him.

For the next few weeks I was too busy to have time to think about the stunning surprise I had received. Stan and Muriel Ridgeway, my wonderful landlords and friends, could barely wait to start baby-sitting and let me get back to work. They had not had any children of their own and fell instantly in love with Cliff. When I came home one afternoon to hear Muriel murmuring to Cliff about how much granny loved him, tears filled my eyes. I was happier than I could recall being in ages.

Happy or not though, new life or not, I needed to deal with what exactly the hell had taken place. I sat down and methodically tried to list what I knew and what I suspected.

First and foremost. On that damn night, I had obviously had sex with Ivan. That was the only night I had sex in weeks and it never happened again. Therefore, Cliff was conceived that night and by my husband.

Therefore, Ivan's claim that he had not see me since we were dancing together was bullshit. The night was muddled, but I knew damn well I hadn't been with him before bedtime. So he had made love to me later on that night. No, I thought angrily, not "made love". The bastard had fucked me. And in a hell of a lot more ways than just that.

Had I had sex with David? I didn't know, couldn't be sure, but I damn well doubted it. I doubted it because I knew Ivan. If he had been in control enough to set this up, he would have never let someone fuck me. Besides, I also knew David. David didn't need to catch his women drunk and unconscious. He had them lining up two by two.

And why was I unable to remember much about the night? Yes, I had been drinking, perhaps more than usual since I was enjoying myself and the renewed attention from my husband. But not so much that I should have passed out like it seemed I had. Obviously it was too late to get blood work done to see if I had been drugged but I was leaning towards that conclusion.

Okay, it seemed to fit. I had been set up by my ever-loving husband and taken the fall for something I had not done. But, WHY? Whatever could have made Ivan do this to me? And then treat me like he had, like a leper when I hadn't done anything wrong? This just seemed so impossible. Had I misjudged the man I had married so badly?

I was pretty sure I knew what had happened now. I just didn't know why.

For the next few weeks I considered various scenarios. Had this been some elaborate practical joke by someone that had backfired and everyone had run for cover? Had there been some compulsion levied against Ivan, and perhaps David also, to do this? I just couldn't come up with anything.

Then one Sunday afternoon I was just leaving the spare bedroom/nursery when someone started banging on the brass knocker. I rushed to answer the door. I had just got Cliff down for a nap and was thinking seriously about taking one myself. I didn't want anyone to disturb him. I pulled the door open and stood there in shock.

My caller finally broke the long silence. "Aren't you going to ask me in?"

"Yes, please," I answered in a daze. "Come in, Evie."

She came in and I automatically cautioned her to be quiet. At her look of surprise, I tiptoed into the nursery with her and showed her Cliff. She was surprised. Apparently, however she had found me the information hadn't included this. I led her into the living room. She sat on the couch and I sat beside her. For long minutes we didn't speak. I would look at her and she would look away, Finally I had to break the silence.

"How did you find me?"

"Car insurance," she replied. "When you got your new policy, a routine notice went to the State office that keeps track of these things. I had a standing inquiry logged with them for any changes, explaining that there might be an outstanding claim on your old policy, which of course, we had issued."

"But I did that months ago. Why did you wait this long?"

Evie looked away. "I was embarrassed." she said softly.

"About what?" I asked.

"That when you needed help, I wasn't there. And," she hesitated and then plunged on," and because I knew about Ivan's affair and I didn't say anything to you about it even after I realized you had found out about it."

"Evie," I said softly. "What are you talking about?"

"Ivan's affair with Lynn Richardson. I knew it had been going on for months. I didn't say anything. Then I knew you must have found out, because you got so withdrawn and upset. I finally managed to get up the nerve to talk to you and then you were gone. I'm sorry."

I slowly absorbed Evie's words. Things were a lot clearer now. I was beginning to understand things. This is why we couldn't get ahead financially. I was putting money in and he was taking it out. David had undoubtedly been covering for him under the guise of the weekly poker games. Now I was completely convinced the entire episode at David's was a set-up to, to, to what? I still didn't understand it. Yes, it put me on the defensive and let him do whatever he wanted, but he was already doing that anyway. Why?

I shook my head. Evie was looking at me, shame and regret and something I couldn't identify in her eyes.

"Evie? When I had to go to that tax seminar..." I left the words hanging in the air.

"Yes." she replied quietly. "He took Lynn with him on that 'non-refundable' cruise. I heard them making plans for it a month before."

"Evie? For god's sake why didn't you tell me? It would have hurt, but my entire life was almost ruined. Please tell me you had no idea about this plan of his."

The look of confusion that Evie gave me was answer enough. I explained what had happened at David's and the resulting weeks and she almost fell apart. All she could say over and over was "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Why Evie? Why didn't you tell me? That's the one thing about your part in this that I just can't grasp."

She looked away from me. "I wanted some one else to tell you. I tried to slip the information to Human Resources or even the old man, but I couldn't let myself be linked to it. "

"I don't understand, Evie, why would you hope I would find out from someone else?"

"Because if I told you, I thought you would hate me. I thought it would ruin everything."

I shook my head. "I'm still confused. You always seemed upset about my dating and then marrying Ivan. Maybe it was unfair, but I always thought you wanted him for yourself?"

"No, my God no." Evie turned to face me and took my hands. "You goose. You never saw it did you?"

"Saw what?"

"Oh Marie, I didn't want Ivan. I just didn't want him to have you. I didn't want that because I wanted you."

Evie looked at me, expecting I know not what. Emotions chased themselves through my mind. I had no idea what to say, what even to think. When I said nothing, she leaned forward, my hands still in hers. Her fingertips stroked the backs of my hands. I looked into her eyes. I saw a hestitation there, coupled with a suppressed desire I never had thought to see in the eyes of another woman.

Evie brought her lips to mine. I felt them brush against me and then draw back. She looked at me like she was expecting to be slapped, or worse, refused. I realized that she was waiting for me to respond to her revelation, one way or the other. She shivered slightly. She must be as nervous as I was. Something deep inside of me that I wasn't even aware of must have answered her, for she kissed me again. This time her lips clung to mine.

My mind was a whirl, fixtated on the thought that Evie wanted me. I couldn't believe it I knew she had dated a few girls but at the same time I always thought she preferred guys. Her lips were on mine now, and they were so warm and soft. I hadn't been kissed in so long and it felt so good as her tongue slipped into my mouth. Her fingers were in my hair and my mouth was opening to her.

Just for a minute, just for a minute. I was going to stop it. I was. I was. I was. Her hand was on my breast and she was pushing me back gently onto the couch. NO. I wasn't gay. I had to stop this, stop her hands pulling my top over my head, stop my arms going around her, stop all of this. But when she hesitated and pulled back slightly, I clung to her, stretched out on the couch and drew her down to me.

I wasn't a lesbian. I WASN'T. Her fingers were unfastening my shorts and I was lifting my hips for her to pull them down. Her legs were smooth and strong against mine. I put my hands on her shoulders to push her away and instead I caught her top and pulled on it until it came off over her head. Another woman had striped me and somehow she was as nude as me. I tried to tell her as her tongue possessed my mouth, I tried to tell her to stop. I'm NOT a lesbian. Then her breasts were on mine, and her leg parted mine and I felt the wetness of her sex touch me and my pussy was soaked and grinding against her. I made one last effort to stop, but my hand slipped between us and I felt the wonder of her breast in my hand and for right now, at least, I was a lesbian.

Evie's nipple hardened against my palm until it felt like a diamond point, surrounded by the softness of her breast. Her body was warm and cool and smooth, all wonderful curves with no rough hands or stubbly beards. She made love to me everywhere her skin touched me, from the side of her foot stroking my calf to the thigh pressing urgently against my open slit to the stiffness of her other nipple jammed against mine. A first spasm raced through my body and I broke our kiss to give a wordless plea.

I bucked under Evie and then her tongue was dragging down my body. It didn't stop as I squirmed under her but passed between my breasts and over my belly, leaving a wet trail on my skin. It never paused when it danced over my navel or slid over my mound. Evie pushed my legs apart and all I could do was to lock my fingers in her hair as I lifted my hips to her and she plunged her tongue into my vagina.

I flailed on the couch, only managing to smother squeals by recalling Cliff sleeping in the next room. Evie's tongue was a living line of fire in me, snaking deeply along my dripping silky walls, her mouth closing on my labia. I pawed helpless at her, trying to urge her to I knew not what as the earthquake hit me. I pounded my hands on the couch, on her shoulders, as I came in a powerful orgasm.

I was still gasping for breath when Evie spun her body around, straddling my face with her slim, smooth legs. Her face simply turned, never leaving the flood I was offering her. I looked up between her legs, at the folds and hidden places of her pussy, barely concealed under a sparse crop of fine hair. My hands seized her and I only marveled for a moment at the feel of her firm tight ass before I pulled her down onto my face.

I licked her, wildly, wantonly, loving what I was doing. She was already incredibly wet and the taste of her simply drove me wild. I sucked her swollen lips into my mouth, drinking her sweetness from them. I lapped up and down the open pink slit, mashing my face into her. Her tongue had never stopped and I tried to match it movements, dipping inside her when she entered me, swirling over her when it slipped out. Then I felt the tip of her tongue touch my quivering clitoris. I found her own pearl in its hidden nest and lashed it with my own tongue. Her breath exploded inside me as she buried a cry of excitement in my pussy.

Her lips actually closed on my throbbing nubbin, In return I flicked hers. Back and forth. Up and down. Around and around. Suddenly Evie rose up and settled right down on me, sitting on my face, almost smothering me in her womanhood. She slid three fingers into my quaking pussy and began to pump them as she ground down on me. My internal muscles clamped on her fingers and I screamed up inside her as I felt her give way.

The first rush of juices poured along my tongue and into my gaping mouth. As I reached my second orgasm, I drank from her, for the first time in my life tasting the sweetness of another woman's nectar.

Evie and I spent the night together, getting out of bed only to take care of Cliff when he awoke. The love-making was intense and exciting and such a release from the months and months of celibacy. But...

In the morning I rose. I fed Cliff, changed him and sat in the rocker that Stan had made for me while he fell back asleep in my lap. Evie came into the room, looked at Cliff, then at me, and smiled sadly.

"This is all there is going to be isn't it?" she asked.

I was sad, but she was right. "Yes. Evie, last night was wonderful. Thank you, for everything. For coming clean to me about Ivan and most of all for opening this new doorway for me. But," I searched for the words, "But I don't love you. And, I think you don't love me either."

"No," Evie said as she sat on the couch where we had experienced such passion yesterday. She quoted the old saying "the only thing sadder than not realizing your dreams, is to have them come true." Her lips twisted in a sad smile. "Maybe this was just a dream, maybe it was a crush run amuck. But no, all of a sudden I finally have had you, and as fantastic as it was to be your first woman, the longing is gone." She rose and knelt beside me on one knee, brushing Cliff's forehead with her lips.

I touched Evie's face with my fingertips. She turned her head and kissed them. Then we shared a long, soft kiss that had no passion in it, only goodbye. She brushed the tears from her face and she was gone, closing the door behind her.

I stood and took a deep breath. It was time to start making some phone calls. I needed to arrange to take a few days off. It was time to return to where I had started and settle this whole thing for good. I thought about Ivan.

patricia51
patricia51
1,903 Followers
12