Clyde and Margi

I lay in bed, smoking anyway, thinking about him; our sex, me and how I felt about him. It was not good for me to feel this way, in fact, it was the world’s worst thing. I felt sad that he was going and I had no reason or right. He came back and invited me to shower with him but I said no, offered to make coffee instead. Briefly I thought about the Van Wyks across the road, wondered if they had seen Clyde. Hope so, I thought, give them something to talk about, the envious bastards.

He sang in the shower, completely tuneless but with lots of gusto. He made my home seem like a home with a real man in it, including the time Anton was here. I felt a bit deflated, making the coffee and thinking about his white wife. In a strange way, I’d been competing with all the women in his life since I met him. How stupid and pointless. I had the edge over Margi, age and all that, and Belinda was nothing more than an airport slut and I thought, assumed, that, being married to someone of his own background and race, I would offer something more, something different just by virtue of being white. The fact that his wife was white nullified whatever little edge I thought I had and I began to feel as if I was just another notch on his belt, another mark on the barrel of his rifle.

I took the coffee to the room. He was brushing his hair, almost dressed already. He had shaved and his aftershave filled the room, hung around us both. I sat quietly and watched him as he concentrated on making his tie.

“Why so pensive?” He adjusted the knot. It looked perfect.

“No reason, just a little tired, I think, last night was pretty hectic.” I smiled wanly at him and asked the inevitable question. “When I will hear from you again?”

“Ah, glad you brought that up – how do we stand with the threesome? Are you still interested or did last night change things?” His voice was guarded, cautious. I hated this, I really did. I was in a trap of my own making – truth be told, I wasn’t that keen on Margi anymore and that was because I simply wanted to be with Clyde. Only. I didn’t even want Derek anymore. But I put on a bright smile, wearing the mask.

“Oh that, sure, of course. When was it again? Wednesday?”

He looked at me quizzically.

“Sure, Wednesday. Okay, that’s set we’ll work out the details on Monday. Anyhow, can I call you today sometime?”

“Of course, why do you need to ask? Please call me, I’d love that.”

“Me too,” He said quietly, ‘”Too damn much.” He kept quiet again, sipping his coffee. “Listen, this morning, in bed, you said…..” His voice trailed off. So he did hear me after all, it did register. I held my breath. What have I started? His eyes were locked on mine. “No forget it, my imagination is working overtime.” Before I could speak he went on hurriedly. “Wow – look at the time. I better leave now, right now, or else I’ll miss my flight and then I’ll be deep in the crap.”

“Yes, you better go.” I stood up and we hugged.

I walked him to the door. He looked so smart, all clean and business-like in his suit, smelling of aftershave, swinging his bag with the silver Voyager card winking in the morning light. He stood at the door, looking uncertain. How cute, I thought, for a change he doesn’t know what to do.

“Well, okay, then – thanks for a truly special night, a wonderful night. Speak to you later?”

I leaned forward and kissed him on his lips.

“Don’t worry so much. Enjoy your flight and we’ll talk later.” He looked relieved.

“Okay, see you!”

He walked away, moving down the path, looking his old cocky self again. Men are such little boys, really, so easy to reassure.

As he started his car, he opened the window. The car rolled slowly to my front gate.

“Thank you”, he mouthed. I nodded and waved.

“Hey, before you go: I meant it.” I looked into his eyes for a second, watching the realisation dawn on his face. He smiled and I turned away, pulling my dressing gown tightly around me.

I closed the door. I heard the A4 power away.

That morning was a bit if a blur for me. I was tempted to tidy up but I didn’t. I got back into bed, decided to lie in for another half an hour. I ran through the events of the night before, savouring each detail. The more I remembered the more melancholic I became. I knew that I was making a mess of this, I knew that my emotions were getting in the way. Why did he have to be so damn nice, so funny, so sexy, so charming and so damn lovable? Why of why did he have to know and like my music?

This was a sex thing, I told myself, I had no business in mucking it up. I remembered how I felt when I caught Anton cheating on me, how I hated the other woman. And here I was; the other woman. Anyway, I didn’t know what he thought of me, how he felt. For all I knew he told Margi the same things he told me, acted the same way. He had a way with women, he knew how to wrap them around his finger. I was willing to bet that this was not his first marriage, and that he cheated regularly. In fact, by his own admission, he did. Swine, I thought, men are swine.

I was also irritated by the fact that I had to do a blood test for Aids. I pondered this moodily on my way to the pathologist – what a life. But I needed to be sure, I needed to know. After giving the blood I was told I would be contacted with 24 hours regarding the results.

That morning passed moodily for me and I was snappy again. Derek called me and I blew him off, not wanting the phone occupied in case Clyde called, hating myself for waiting but waiting anyway. I wanted him to call. And he did. At 11;30 he called. My heart stopped.

“Hi there! How you doing?” I closed my eyes and put my hand on my chest.

“Clyde. I’m well, I’m okay,” I dropped my voice. “I’m a little sore, tender, you know, down there.” He chuckled.

“Me too, I feel a bit sore too but hey, I’m not complaining. Are you busy?”

“Yeah, work stuff, no biggie. How was your flight?”

“The usual, crappy actually, bumpy on the approach. It’s raining down here. Again. And I’ve got a load of meetings to attend – contract negotiations.” He fell silent. I played the trick: I kept quiet too. Suddenly he said, “I miss you, Aimee, I miss you and I don’t understand it.”

It was like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. This was what I wanted to hear. I sat down, feeling weak and feeling pleased.

“Aimee? Are you there?”

“Yes, I am,” My voice was small. “I’m listening to you. I miss you too, my angel, I miss you too. More than I can say, more than I understand.”

“Yeah, I know. We have to talk. Soon. I won’t be able to call you this weekend, you know how it is, so I’ll call you on Monday and we’ll set something up. Okay with you?”

“Monday’s too far away. Can I call you later? Between meetings?”

“Sure – say about 2:30? I’ll be on my way to the city centre for a meeting there. How’s that?”

“Its fine, Clyde, I’ll call you then. Thanks, and thanks for calling.”

“Sure. Talk to you later my darling.”

There. It was done. It was a conspiracy. I was having an affair with a married man.

The rest of the morning passed quickly. I hummed as I worked, hummed some Main Ingredient songs, repeated Summer Breeze over and over again. I rushed impatiently through lunch, counting the minutes to two thirty. As the clocked ticked slowly towards the appointed time I ached, willing it to go faster, wanting to rush the time along. Then, at two fifteen, with fifteen minutes to go, Derek called me.

“Hi doll,” He said and suddenly I hated being called that.

“Oh hi. What’s up?”

“Nothing urgent, just missing you. Are you okay? With me, I mean, did I do something wrong?” I felt guilty and I winced, his innocence cutting me.

“No, of course not. There’s nothing wrong. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, just a funny feeling you know. You seem different these days, distracted, off with me?”

“Oh no, its nothing, really, just pressure at work, deadlines.”

“Sure? Is that it? Nothing else?”

“No, really. Nothing else.”

“Okay, if you say so. What are we doing this week-end?”

“Nothing special – is there something you want to do? Go out for dinner maybe?”

“I wish we could go to Mosselbaai – that would be nice.” I glanced at the clock. 2:25. “How about we go over to Harry’s place tomorrow? Watch the rugby there, have a braai?”

“Okay, that sounds good. It’s Anton’s weekend with Chad so there’ll be no problem.”

“Oh yes, I remember. Pity. Chad would enjoyed Harry’s kids – they seem to get on. I’ll come around tonight. We still have beer, don’t we?” I winced again. Clyde drank most of it – there was only one can left.

“I’ll pick some up after work, don’t worry about it.” 2:28.

“Really?” His voice brightened. I had never before bought beer for him. “Okay – see you tonight then. Oh, before I forget – do you have Megan’s dishes? She can’t seem to find them and thinks she may have left them at your place the last time she and Tom visited.” 2:30.

“No, I don’t. She must have left them elsewhere. You know how scatterbrained she is.” I didn’t even know what he was talking about. Damn. 2:31.

“Yep, real blond. Okay, see you tonight.”

“Okay. Bye.” I put the phone down and called Clyde immediately.

“Aimee – right on time.” His deep voice was burred, thick like honey.

“Hi Clyde – where are you?”

“Driving towards the city. It’s cleared up a little, the mountain looks like a postcard picture because it has clouds settling around it.” I could picture this in my mind. “Wish you were here, really – and I’m not looking forward to this next meeting. I’m having difficulty in concentrating today, for some reason or another.” I smiled to myself.

“I wonder why – I’m having the same problem. And the day is dragging. All of a sudden I’m not looking forward to the week-end.”

“Yeah, I know – me neither. Monday is such a long time away. Got anything special planned for this week-end?”

“No, not really. Something has come up – Derek wants us to visit some friends. Clyde, he’s a little suspicious of me. I think I’ve been cool towards him and he asked about it. Knowing him, I’ll hear more of it this week-end.”

“Hope it’s not serious – is it?” He sounded concerned. Good.

“No, don’t think so. I’ll handle it.”

“I hate what that translates into.” He fell silent, car noise filling the space between us. “Listen, I’m almost there and I have to find parking now. If I have a chance, can I call you before my flight takes off?”

“Sure – that if its early enough. Derek’s coming over at 6:30 or so. It won’t be wise to call after that.” I hated this, this cloak and dagger stuff, this creeping about and the complex arrangements. And it’s only been one day!

The day deteriorated after that and mercifully went by quickly. He called me again, briefly, from the airport, speaking in between announcements for boarding and gate numbers. He sounded tired, flat and distracted. He had almost missed his flight because of the traffic out of town, having managed to check in minutes before the flight was closed. We agreed to talk Monday again.

As it turned out, that weekend was a crucial one in my life and it was just as well that those two days intervened in my meeting with Clyde. Besides having all that time to think things over, I had several deep chats with Derek. Looking back now, I suppose I was accepting the fact that Clyde and I had something going, that we had something more than great sex. In truth, I still believe that the beginnings of something good and lasting were there, that we had a fertile seedbed for a real and lasting relationship to build on.

But I realised that I was going on something not much more than a hunch and that, if I broke it down, I was expecting Clyde to get divorced because I’m not the mistress kind of girl. I knew that I felt something real for him and that, given time and opportunity I would badger him to leave his wife. I didn’t want to be the cause for a break up of a marriage. I would also be breaking Derek’s heart. Maybe our relationship wasn’t the furnace that Clyde offered but it was stable and comfortable. It was predictable and therefore safe. Also there was the fact Chad and Derek were getting on and I was reluctant to think I would be introducing Chad to a series on ‘uncles’.

Derek also told me that he was worried about us, that he didn’t want to lose me. He felt that he may have been neglecting me and that we were drifting apart. Truth was I was neglecting him. I felt a whole lot of guilt – not because of the sex but because of the how I felt about Clyde. There was also the nagging notion that I was not yet finished experimenting. If I was brutally honest about it, I had to accept that I had been looking for strangers to have sex with, that I was not on a quest to find a soul mate. Clyde just happened to be really hot, well-hung and a charmer second to none.

So, by the time Sunday morning had come, I had already made up my mind to break it off with Clyde and Margi. It was too risky, too complicated to be trusted. On top of that, Derek and I had great sex that week-end, a lot for us really, because we did it Friday night, Saturday afternoon, again late that night after the braai and on Sunday morning again. I had orgasms each time, good ones, not the atomic stuff with Clyde but it was better than before. I think I had become more aware of my body, how it worked and what it needed. I guided Derek, gently, made him understand that we were both making love and that he wasn’t on a race-track. I know he must have wondered what had happened to me because of the big changes in me but he wisely didn’t ask. I also volunteered to give him a blowjob, a real one, not the usual do-I-have-to-please-hurry-up-and-come-already one I used to give him but a slow, willing and sensual one, like I did with Clyde. Because he was smaller I had more mobility with my tongue and lips and I really strung it out for him, playing with my pussy while I did it. When I let him come in my mouth I swear he was willing to be my slave for life. He couldn’t stop going on and on about it, how great it was. He didn’t know it but I fantasised about Clyde while we fucked, kept my eyes closed the whole time and pretended it was him. I know I can’t do that forever but I also know that Clyde changed me forever, changed me for the better. I showed Derek how to finger me, told him it was alright to talk while fucking, that the odd swearword was okay too. The fingering technique was a combination of what Andrea did to me and what Clyde knew about me; a divine mix of sensuality and instinctive carnal knowledge. We had a great 69 as well and I think Derek had a few lessons in sex that weekend that he thought he didn’t need. I know that he will want more blowjobs in the future but I will ration these, make it a treat so that it doesn’t get stale and remains a fresh sexy novelty for both us. After that week-end, Derek was like a little puppy, looking at me with wondering eyes. We definitely grew closer. By the Sunday afternoon, I felt like we were a proper family, for the first time.

However.

When Monday morning came I could a sense a mood of anticipation within myself; I knew that Clyde would be calling. I’m pretty good with remaining honest and true to myself so I knew I wouldn’t be going back on my word but I still had the sense of excitement, the urge to speak to Clyde.

He must have been feeling the same because he called early, 7:45, while I was still driving to work. When I heard his voice the hairs on the back on my neck stood, I had goose bumps on my arms!

“Aimee! At last! I couldn’t wait any longer – are you well?” He sounded enthusiastic.

“Hi Clyde – nice to hear you voice again. Have a good weekend?” I decided to play it cool, neutral.

“So-so. It dragged on a bit. I was tempted to call you both on Saturday and Sunday.”

“Oops, glad you didn’t – would have been awkward. I had Derek there the whole weekend and he didn’t leave me alone for a second. We had a good time.” I hated myself for saying this but I needed to leave clues early, set the scene for our meeting later.

He paused.

“Oh – well, I’m glad for you.” He sounded deflated. Damn, I wasn’t so subtle after all. Hating myself even more, I said:

“So where and when are we meeting to settle our thing, to get it sorted out?”

“We could meet in Sandton again,” he sounded less excited now, “or anywhere that suits you.” Actually, he sounded peeved. I sighed. Dear sexy, lovable Clyde.

“Sandton it is. Same time, same place?”

“Yes, suits me.” Even more muted now.

“Okay, hotshot, see you later!” and I rang off, angry with myself, angry with the world.

To make matters worse, in a sense, Derek sent me a lovely bouquet of red, red roses that morning. I suppose that this was a good thing, for him and for me, but not good for Clyde. I passed a melancholic morning, teetering between the good thing with Derek and the deliciously wicked thing with Clyde. But I knew, in my heart, that I had to remain steadfast. At about ten that morning I got a call telling me that I didn’t have aids. No news, really, but important enough.

We met as arranged. He was alone this time, looking pensive as he waited for me, smoking a broody cigarette.

He didn’t forget his manners though, still stood up as I approached.

“Hello – you are looking as lovely as ever.” A gentleman to the last.

“And you sir, are as handsome as I remember.”

He ordered drinks for us and, drawing on his cigarette, he leaned forward.

“So, in between the last time we spoke on Friday and this morning, what has been going on in your life?” Precise, exact and to the point.

I sighed. “A lot really and I think you deserve the whole truth.” I told him then, not rushing, about how I felt that I was falling in love with him and the dangers for us both. About Derek, about Chad and about me. When I finished we sat in silence for a while, smoking in a companionable silence.

“You’re right, of course,” he eventually said, “about everything. After that night I couldn’t get you out of my head either. I started comparing you to Debbie and that’s not fair on you or her. I love her, I really do, but the sex thing is a long and boring story so I won’t go in to it. Divorce? No, not again,” I nodded – so I was right, “and I can’t believe this thing between you and I happened so fast.” He looked around, weary, tired. “Strange world, we go looking for a little fun and fall into our traps. What’s that song, the one by the Eagles? I forget its name but it has a line it – every refuge has its price – know it?” I did and he was so right. No free lunches, not ever.

“So, does this mean you ride off into the sunset? You disappear from my life?”

“Clyde, you are to attractive to me, I want you too much. And yet, I know, you will come at a price neither of us can afford and, if we pay it, we won’t be proud of it. So yes, I have to say goodbye to you.”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe it – a week ago we sat here planning a threesome. Today we sit agreeing not see each other again.” He took both my hands into his. “Aimee, promise me, if you change your mind about anything, you will let me know?”

“Of course, Clyde, of course I will. And you, will you be okay?” He laughed dryly.

“Oh yes I will be. Actually, I have to carry on as per normal, get you out of my system. Margi will be there, bless her, and the two of us will look after each other. But I’ll never forget you Aimee, never, neither you nor your wonderful music.” He stood up abruptly and stuck his hand out. “This is goodbye then, Aimee, and good luck.” I stood up and shook his hand, ending it as we started it, shaking hands.

We both left, walking in opposite directions, away from each other. I haven’t seen him or Margi or heard from them since. Such an odd couple, such a wonderful man. We made a strange threesome.

I never did tell him that I tested clear for Aids.