Charade Ch. 02

One of the hardest things I've ever had to do was to confront Bernie Van Horn and tell him that I was divorcing his daughter and handing in my resignation.

"Goddamnit, Jerry, Why? Why? At least tell me why. Haven't I treated you well? You're like a son to me; why are you doing this?" Bernie had tears in his eyes and I had to swallow a lump in my throat.

"Bernie, please," I managed to get out. "I can't give you the details, I really can't. I imagine Kim will explain everything to you. I really have little choice, Bernie. And you're right - you have been like a second father to me and I'll never be able to repay you for your faith and trust in me. I wish I can explain everything, but I just can't, I can't." I felt myself losing control again and I stopped, unable to continue. I just couldn't tell him that his daughter had been unfaithful and was carrying someone else's child.

Bernie saw my distress and I thought I saw a flash of understanding and sympathy in his eyes. He came over to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Okay, Jerry. You don't have to say any more. Get a hold of yourself. Maybe I understand more than you think. Do what you think you have to do, but you have to promise that you'll let me help you however and whenever I can. Okay?."

I nodded, rose and left his office.

I spent the next week at a Hilton in town, trying to get my head around all that had happened to me. When all was said and done, there really wasn't a lot to think about. I instituted divorce proceedings, I knew that it wouldn't be contested. I took a cold, hard look at my circumstances and realized that there really wasn't anything left for me here. My wife and in-laws were now in my past and my folks had moved to Florida. I made up my mind and called Ben Klein. I was on a plane bound for LA within a week.

Ben had submitted my resume to his company and I was on the job a few days after my arrival in Los Angles. I stayed with Ben and his wife Rachael for a couple of weeks until I was able to find an apartment near to the job. Ben had married about the same time I did and he found a winner. Rachael didn't know me from Adam, but we had talked a few times over the phone when Ben called or I had phoned him. She was warm and couldn't have been more friendly and welcoming. She, as much as Ben, made me always feel wanted in their home - more then welcome it turned out. She was about 5" 3" inches tall and built beautifully with dark hair and flashing brown eyes. She slowly joined my very small list of very special friends. I was happy for Ben and for Rach also.

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So the weeks passed by. I immersed myself in the work. Thank goodness for my work, it kept me from agonizing about the destruction of my marriage and my longing for Kim, at least during the day. The nights were hellish and my sleep was filled with dark dreams and "could have beens." Sometimes I would drink myself into oblivion and then let my anger rise to the surface. I would smash a few things against the wall and then pass out on the sofa. I wanted my wife back - not the one I had divorced, but the one I had met and married.

Was Kim's infidelity at least partially my fault? Should I have stayed and tried to work things out? Was I being cowardly for running away? I had given those questions hours and hours of thought and I came to the realization that I wasn't that strong. I couldn't forgive her betrayal and I knew that I couldn't accept the child - the child that would always be a reminder of her adultery.

What kept me on a reasonably sane path most of the time was the companionship and friendship of Ben and Rachael. They were constantly after me to spend the weekend at their place, or come with them for a weekend of camping, or nagging me to accept a blind date in which they thought I may have some interest. I managed to avoid the attempts at dating, but I did spend quite a bit of time with them at their house. Relaxing by their pool in the warm sun seemed to help my turmoil. It also gave me the opportunity to appreciate Rachael in her brief bikinis. Oh, they were relatively modest, but she did have a great figure. Nah, no wrong ideas - just normal male appreciation.

It was rather strange though. As the months passed, I would get a call every once in awhile from Bernie Van Horn. He was sensitive enough to never bring Kim up in our conversations, but was interested in what I was doing and how I was getting along. The strange thing was that I would also get a call now and then from, of all people, Katherine Van Horn. She seemed genuinely concerned about me and was warm and friendly on the phone. I was really happy that they both wanted to keep in touch.

But then things started to get a little weird at the Klein's. As I mentioned, both Ben and Rachael kept after me to come visit every chance they got, so I was over there during the weekends more often than not. It was almost like being with family - no, I take that back. It was like being with family, they were that close to me. And I did enjoy the private back lawn with the pool and patio.

But, as time passed, both Ben and Rachael became increasingly concerned about my lack of interest in dating or pursuing members of the opposite sex - you know, women. It wasn't as if I wanted to become a monk or anything, it was just that I really didn't have any interest. I guess the circumstances of the breakup of my marriage may have put me off looking for any type of relationship. Oh, I had the usual urges, but they were taken care of manually, so to speak.

But, Rachael's bikinis started to get briefer and briefer until it was almost embarrassing. Her latest was no more then three little triangles of material that could be stuffed in a shirt pocket. The top barely covered her nipples and the bottom was a brief triangle over her crotch and a string up her rear end. I gotta be truthful, it became difficult to hide my erection. Also, little encounters began to occur. I mean like when I would come out of the bathroom, she would be in the hall wearing only a very brief bra and panties, or sometimes just the panties. It really started to become uncomfortable for me. No way in hell would I every even dream of putting a move on Rach, I wasn't that much of a pig.

The strange encounters came to a head about four or five weeks after the appearance of the brief bikinis. It was a Saturday and Ben had excused himself to run to the store to get a case of beer. I had volunteered to go, but he had insisted I stay. I was again coming out of the bathroom after taking a leak, when I saw Rachael coming down the hall. She was wearing a short, silk robe which pretty well should have covered the vital parts, but the robe was wide open and she was naked under it. I almost twisted an ankle trying to turn around to avoid her. She came up to me, took me by the hand and commanded, "Come with me, Jerry. We need to talk."

"Rach," I stammered. "Please, tie that robe......please. Ben will be home soon. I don't want him getting wrong ideas." I realized that I was babbling, but she was leading me down the hall and out of the house to the patio.

"Don't worry about Ben, Jerry. He'll be back when I call and tell him to be back. In the meantime we need to have a conversation," she said calmly while sitting in a chair across from me, her robe totally open and her legs slightly apart. Her tits were staring me in the face and I could see the lips of her sex which were visible under her public hair.

"Jerry," she snapped. "Enough - stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're not the only guy in the world that got crapped on and you won't be the last. You can't avoid women the rest of your life and you can't get too friendly with your fist, if you know what I mean," and she colored slightly at that remark.

She put her hands under her breasts and lifted them slightly. "These are breasts, Jerry. Sometimes they're called tits or boobs or a million other names. All women have them and most men are very appreciative of them." She then pulled at her nipples. "These are nipples, Jerry. They get hard and erect when a woman is aroused. Did you know that?"

I sat there, red faced, almost panicking. Ben would kill me and I would let him. I just didn't know how to get out of this quagmire.

Rachael then stood and let the robe fall to her feet. She spread her legs and commanded me to look at her pussy. "Look, Jerry. This is a pussy, or kitty, or cunt or whatever. You know the names. In case you've forgotten, it's there for an erect penis, or cock or dick. That's how women are built, Jer. They have pussies so that they can be fucked. That's what it for, Jerry. I don't mean to be crude, but I just want to make sure that you still remember that."

She then moved to me and took my hand. I sat paralyzed, almost afraid to even breath. She placed my hand on her pussy and put my finger between her lips. "Feel, Jerry. This is what a pussy feels like. Now it's unfortunate that I am not aroused, but if I were what you're feeling would be very wet or at least moist. Ooops, I guess that I am a little moist," she giggled. "Don't worry, Jerry. You're a dear friend and I am not going to screw you. Ben and I just thought that this kind of shocking encounter would stir you out of your depression and lethargy."

She then turned and put her robe back on and closed and tied it this time. She sat again and looked at me calmly. "Ok, Jerry. Now it's your turn to say something. I hope that I didn't shock you too much and I hope you know that we did this out of love and affection for you." She now seemed a bit concerned and unsure of herself.

"Holy shit, Rach," I muttered. "That's kind of extreme, to say the least. What's Ben going to think of this," I worried.

Rachael smiled. "Don't worry, Jer. Ben knows exactly what I intended to do and he agreed. He thought it may work too. Jerry, Ben trusts you with his life and he feels the same about me. Don't worry about what Ben feels. I want you to examine your feelings and recognize that you have to get back in the game."

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Well, I guess it worked, at least to some degree. Ben returned to the house a little later and all he could do is grin and titter. I think that he could barely control himself from breaking into a honest to god belly laugh. His good humor and glee at my embarrassment got rid of my guilt. Almost in self defense, I began accepting blind dates from the Kleins and, surprisingly, quite a few of the gals were nice and I enjoyed myself. I also know that these were just dates and weren't going to go anywhere. I also knew the reason for that.

Shit, I still loved Kim. I missed her terribly. How do you stop loving someone? I knew that it was over; I knew that we would never again be together, but it still hurt and it hurt to the core of my being. That was my hang-up, that was the obstacle I had to overcome in order to get my life on track again. I had to bury the horror of the last months with Kim, I had to bury my love for her, I had to forget and move on.

And for the first time since I left, I began to do just that. Oh, the love and hurt were still there, I just had sublimated them. I made the attempt to drive them deep into my subconscious, and as time passed I became more and more successful. It wasn't long before it just became a dull, achy memory with which I was able to cope.

I also knew that in order to "get back into the game" I had to open myself to opportunities. I couldn't just rely on Ben and Rachael for blind dates. Eventually they were going to run out of women to whom I could be introduced. I joined a local health club and started working out. I signed up for a cooking class at the community college; if nothing else it would improve my pathetic cooking skills. I even went so far as to consider joining a library group, but - nah, I told myself not to get too carried away. Anyway, Ben and Rach were happy that I was "back in the game."

So I plugged along, kept busy working, going out on an occasional date, settling into a rut of my own making. Without even realizing it two years had passed since I had moved to the west coast. Was I happy? Hmmm, can't answer that - I seemed to operate in a semi-fog. I went through the motions and I'm sure that everyone saw a guy that seemed normal, but I knew I was fucked up. Shit, two years and I still hurt - not overtly, but deep down and I knew that the pain would never go away.

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Then my world changed again. It was on a Thursday evening when I received a call from my mom. She was crying and she was having a hard time getting me to understand, but then it hit me. My dad had had a massive stroke, he had died on the way to the hospital. I felt my stomach turn and I felt light headed. I knew that I had to get control of myself. I tried to calm my mom and told her I would fly out immediately.

I called Ben, told him what had happened and interrupted his shocked sympathy. I asked him to contact personnel the next day and have them grant me a leave of absence. I didn't know how long I would be gone. I packed a couple of bags, called the airport and was on a plane for Tampa a few hours later.

We landed early the next morning and I managed to get a rental car fairly quickly at the airport. The sun was just up and it looked like it was going to be a hot, muggy day. It wasn't too long before I was at the house. There was a note on the front door addressed to me. It was from Mrs. Simmons, the next door neighbor. She had written her phone number requesting me to call as soon as I arrived. I took the note, unlocked the door and found the house empty. I immediately phoned the number still in my hand.

"Mrs. Simmons? This is Jerry Ford. I just got your note........." she interrupted quickly.

"Jerry, don't fret, but your mom had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital. The doctor said that she'll be fine so stay calm. I'll be right over, you stay right there." This was a take charge woman and my first panicky fright was allayed a bit, I calmed down and waited for her.

Five minutes later, Mrs. Simmons, or Katy as she told me to call her, gave me all the information she had. They were together last night when my mom starting complaining about neck and arm pains. Being no fool, Katy immediately called 911 and when they arrived they quickly whisked mom to the ER. She was examined, given an EKG and had her heart catherized by a interventional cardiologist who was on call. Blockages had been discovered and she was scheduled for cardiac bypass surgery later in the week.

I immediately started for the door when Katy stopped me. She turned me around and spoke calmly and forcibly, "Jerry, just wait for me. Give me 15 minutes to get cleaned up again and dressed and I'll go with you instead of giving you directions to the hospital."

I stopped and sagged a bit. She put her arms around me and patted me on the back. "Don't worry, Jerry. Your mom's going to be ok. They do this kind of thing all of the time down here. She's only 56 and she's got plenty of good years left - she's still a young woman."

"Thanks, Katy. I appreciate the support. I'll wait for you here. I really am grateful for all that you've done. You're a good friend," and then I gently extracted myself from her embrace. Thank goodness my mom had close friends.

We got to the hospital not long after and I had my first opportunity to see my mom and speak with her. She was still in shock at my dad's death. She just didn't care about getting well or having the surgery. I had to do my damned best to convince her to have the surgery. I had to remind her that she now was all that I had, and she had to do her best to be here for me. I appealed to her sense as a mother and I guess it worked. She agreed to the surgery. She was operated on about 5 days later and came through well. Five days after the surgery she was home recuperating. I was amazed, I thought that she would be hospitalized for weeks and bedridden for weeks more. Little did I know. A week after surgery we were taking short walks in the neighborhood.

During mom's stay in the hospital I made all of the arrangements for dad's funeral. He was buried in a suburban cemetery with friends and neighbors attending. There was a sizeable crowd, he was well liked. I also noted that most of the people there were in there 60s at least and were shocked at dad's untimely death. He had just turned 60 himself. I insisted that mom not attend, she was still weak from surgery and still in hospital. I promised her that we would visit dad's grave as soon as she felt she could.

During my days there I was able to give quite a bit of thought to my immediate future. I wasn't sure about mom's health and I really felt reluctant to leave her. After quite a bit of deliberation and talks with both Ben and Rachael I decided to quit my job and move somewhere close to my mom. Ben promised that he would contact a moving company who would pack everything up for me and deliver it on a date specified by me. Ben got most of my personal stuff from the apartment and my desk at work and shipped it to me. He also made arrangements to get my car shipped down to me. Thank goodness for Ben and Rach, their help was a godsend.

I was amazed at the progress my mom was making. Oh sure, she tired easily and needed a nap during the afternoon, but, all in all, she made tremendous strides back to health. I was living with her and between my help and the help of Katy Simmons (who, I discovered, was also widowed recently) my mom was doing very well. I had just decided that it was time for me to begin looking for work. I needed a job. My expenses the last few weeks were very minimal, but I knew that I couldn't sit around on my ass forever. Mom was now healthy enough to take care of herself and I needed to work.

In this frame of mind I sat with her in the living room and told her that I was going to start to look for a job. Mom looked at me and gave me her opinion. "Jerry, I know that you have a bit of money put aside and I do also. This place is paid for and my living expenses are not great. I have a good suggestion: let's pool our resources and you open your own office. Start your own business. I have tremendous confidence in you; I know that you can make this a success. We can be partners. I know how to run an office and you can do the technical part of it. What do you say?"

I was flabbergasted. I had never given any thought to starting my own business. I was an engineer, not a businessman, but I was intrigued. I immediately saw some potential in the idea. I knew that there were a ton of small contractors who did not have an engineering department and farmed out that work. Could I tap into that market? I needed to think about it and I needed to talk to some people, Ben Klein being the first. He was enthusiastic, he told me to go for it; I had nothing to lose.

So mom and I pooled what little money we had and I opened a small office in town, just enough space for the little work that I hoped would be coming in. I also advertised in the local trade publications and made it a point to visit and introduce myself to as many local contractors as I could. Slowly, very slowly, some work began to come in. Within a few months we were making expenses. That was it, no profit, just making expenses.

Then, out of the blue, I received a request for a bid on a mid-size office building. I worked on that bid for hours and pared my profit margin to the bone. I won that bid. I had to quickly expand to make the deadline which was, thankfully, far enough in the future so I had the time to get more help and get the job done. To make a long story short, the work began to come in and I had to expand three more times in the next few years until we now occupied an entire floor in a relatively new high-rise in town. I knew that I was lucky as hell, we must have hit a building boom just in time and for some reason I received a ton of work. I wasn't about to look that gift horse in the mouth; I just took it and ran with it.