Lost and Redeemed

As she flew up the approach to the span over Black Canyon, Liz could see a figure standing in the middle taking off his coat and neatly hanging it over something on the railing. With a screaming of tires and overburdened break pads, the sedan skidded to a halt next to her quarry.

"Dennis O'Leary, don't you dare move!" Elizabeth's best angry teacher voice echoed across the canyon as she leapt from the driver's seat and, glasses bobbing on her nose, stormed up to the astonished young veteran. Grabbing his shirt front in both fists she jerked his face down to hers and continued. "Get this straight, O'Leary, we are not, repeatnot burying you and your wife in the same grave on the same day and that's just what will happen if you do something really, really stupid here. You die now and she won't last 24 hours. You want to be responsible for a death by broken heart? Do you?" She hauled back and slapped him across the face, hard. "Put that coat back on—and the shoes, too, damn it. Do it now!"

Grabbing his ear she opened the passenger door and physically shoved him into the car, pinned him in with the seatbelt, then slammed the door and activated the child-proof lock. Only when he was safe inside could Elizabeth turn, lean against the still-warm hood and stand, her shoulders shaking, while she sobbed and waited as emergency vehicles of all sorts wailed their way towards her.

We were in time; we really were in time just this once, she thought. Four screaming squad cars pulled up in front and behind her followed closely by the fire department's river rescue team. The unmistakable throb of helicopter blades overhead was counterpoint to the howling sirens and the deep-throated roar of the jet boat below.

A young police officer hurried up to her. "Mrs. Oppenheimer? Is CPT O'Leary all right? Were we in time?"

"Yes, yes, we were, and you have no idea how glad I am to see you . . . and everyone else." Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth popped open her cell phone and called home. "Raymond? He's o.k. I've got him in the car. Tell Olivia I'm bringing him back to the house. Let me give a quick report to all the rescue folk here and I'll have him home as soon as I can."

Later, with both O'Leary's sleeping off the paramedics' sedatives, the Oppenheimers sat soberly considering their options.

"Olivia told us he was an amputee but there was nothing in the background check to suggest he might have Post-Traumatic Stress Disease. Did you suspect anything?" Ray began.

"No, I didn't ask, and it never crossed my mind but we should have gotten a clue that something was wrong that first night, you know. Damn, I don't think even Olivia realized how emotionally torn the poor guy was." Elizabeth's expression was wry but the guilt and bitterness in her voice was unmistakable. "Would it have made any difference, do you think?"

"Possibly. In any case it does help explain what's happened and what should happen. It's really stupid, when you think about it. A guy comes back from the war in fewer pieces than he left with and it takes months or even years for the system to grind out a proper decision. In the mean time, he could be poor, homeless or dead."

"Well, at least we prevented the last. For some reason I think we owe these two something. I know it wasn't our fault that he suddenly collapsed but I still feel responsible because of what happened the night we met. You and I have to make sure that Denny doesn't end up either poor or homeless. Raymond James, Dennis needs a friend."

"A friend, Liz? Den and Oli need a family. She told me that her parents are divorced, one in California and one in Seattle, and that his parents live in Florida . . . in a nursing home. Neither of them has any siblings, only each other. Sweetheart, they're such decent kids that I think we just acquired a couple of . . . what? Older children? Younger siblings? We can't just send them home and hope for the best."

REDEEMED

"Denny? Denny, are you awake, honey?"

"Mm-hm," I slowly opened my eyes to see Olivia sitting on the sofa where I had been sleeping. She was leaning over, looking anxiously down at me. Physically she wasn't any different than she was the night before but there was light in her eyes again and a little smile on her face. I thought she looked wonderful.

I looked around and saw that I was back in the same living room with the broad sofas and the fat ottomans that we walked out of that night back in February. Ray Oppenheimer stood off to one side with his arm wrapped affectionately around Elizabeth. They were both smiling at me.

"Home is the hunter, home from the hill and the sailor home from the sea. -- Robert Lewis Stevenson. And home is the soldier, home from the sand. Are you feeling better, now? You've been asleep for about six hours." As Ray spoke, he stepped to the bar and poured seltzer water over some ice in a tumbler and handed it to me. It tasted of the lemon he'd squeezed into it and made my nose tingle. It may have been the best thing I ever drank.

Somehow I managed to sit and then stand up. I looked down at Olivia and then over at Ray and Elizabeth. "Thank-you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank-you. I owe you my life and more importantly, I owe you Olivia. I think we'll be all right, now.

"Did you think you were going anywhere?" Liz raised an eyebrow. "Dinner's ready and we have some other guests you need to meet. Now go wash up"

There were others already seated around the table. Harold and his wife were there and that made me blush. I should have known that a junior officer couldn't keep a secret from an old NCO.

The other pair of guests was an African-American couple. He was tall and imposing; she was almost frighteningly beautiful in a lush, Reubens-esque kind of way. Ray introduced them as Charles and Victoria Smyth-Jefferson and said that they were there to provide any legal or psychological advice that might be needed over the course of the evening.

The meal was a far cry from the opulence of our first meeting. I guess someone decided that "comfort food" was in order and had cooked up a huge kettle of a rich beef stew served over mashed potatoes. No alcohol was on the table because of our medications though the variety of soft drinks was considerable.

There was little conversation as we all dug in; it was the first meal I'd been able to taste in weeks. Afterwards, with chairs pushed back, Ray got down to the point.

"What have you found out, Charles?" he began. "Why is CPT O'Leary only getting that small check?"

Mr. Smyth-Jefferson's voice seemed to come from deep in a cave. "Actually, it appears to be nothing more complicated than a coding error. The Army is well aware of the captain's condition and length of service. The VA was surprised that he wasn't getting more. Next month he should begin receiving both his compensation and his medically retired captain's pension. It's no fortune, but it will definitely support them both while he undergoes treatment."

"Which begins tomorrow," Victoria added. "Our daughter Deserea isn't in class on Wednesdays so she'll get him over to the VA and her fiancé Justin will retrieve the truck. Everyone in the system is mighty embarrassed by the errors. None of this should ever have happened. I'm a little concerned, though, about the next month or so. You two youngsters really need someone to keep an eye on you. Chief, can we get you to volunteer?"

Before Harold could answer, Elizabeth seized control of the conversation. "While I'm sure that no one could do better job than the Chief, Denny and Olivia are staying with us. The house is large and only two of us live here most of the time so there will be plenty of room. Once Oli is able to go back to work, Denny will still be in treatment so their days are taken care of. Nights will be our watch."

Oli and I were stunned. Of course the fact that we were still a little drugged probably had something to do with our slow response but still, we were expecting to go home that night. Little did we suspect that we might already have arrived.

Late April turned to May, then to June. Our house had been rented and now school was out, freeing Elizabeth for the summer. After due consideration, the Oppenheimers thought that though Ray still had to spend his weekdays keeping the community solvent, the three of us should hold down the fort, as it were, at their cabin on the lake. He would come up on Friday evening and leave again on Sunday but for the summer Oli could loll around, I could fish and garden and Liz could brush up on her mothering skills with the two of us. The VA docs okayed the idea and even suggested that probably I could be weaned off the Prozac.

The heat of the following July put me onto a soft bench in the shade. The baggy swim trunks I wore were the perfect compliment to the floppy hat over my face. Exertion was strictly out of the question in the oppressive heat, especially with my belly full. I was thoroughly at peace with the world when I felt someone take hold of my foot and begin to rub it. Olivia has always cooed over foot massages but they had never interested me any. Whoever was doing this one, though, was awfully good and I couldn't help but skooch down a little deeper into the padding and smile.

After a while the fingers began to dig in deeper and to concentrate on a particular place up near the metatarsal arch. It started to feel better yet, even arousing. Before I could ditch the hat and sit up, I felt the hands leave my foot and settle on my shoulders. I heard Olivia whispering. "Remember, Denny, no one has to do anything they don't want but whatdo you want?

Her right hand left my shoulder and worked its way down my chest and belly. The slow stroke of her soft fingers reached the front of my trunks, trailing fire through my loins. I moaned. We hadn't had sex for months, what with my breakdown and the Prozac's side effects. I wasn't sure that this was the time to begin again, either. I pushed the hat off my face and looked up at her, a little worried, and saw that three months of Elizabeth's care had returned my gorgeous colleen to a picture of glowing, desirable health. The worry slinked away and hid.

"Whatdo you want?" she repeated in a whisper, "Do you, just maybe, want to take off my top?"

As slow as a man in a dream I watched my hands reach up and pulled the ties behind her neck and back. The bikini bra fell away freeing those wonderful, full, freckled breasts. The deep rose, ice-cream-cone nipples stood at attention, demanding my lips. I pulled her down and suckled, though more like an infant than a lover.

After a few minutes Oli pulled away, stripped off my trunks and her thong, and then straddled me and the bench. She reached down and grabbed a firm hold on my aching manhood. Though she was still a little dry, my lady placed its head at the doorway to her sex and sat down, slowly. She squirmed and wiggled until I was seated firmly within her then she sat straight up, put her hands on my stomach and started to rock slowly back and forth.

"Oh, Denny, it's been so long." she sighed. Then, glancing up, she grinned, giggled, and blushed a bit. "Denny, Liz can see us right out the kitchen window. She has her own private porn flick playing out on her front lawn."

"Let her watch." I replied. "We'll give her a show. I'm just glad there aren't any neighbors."

"Denny, Ray is coming up early this week." Oli's sigh became a chortle. "There is some kind of monthly party that goes on back in town that they've missed since they took us in. I suppose we have now been 'officially' declared safe enough to be left alone for the weekend so they're going. I hope they have a good time. I'm going to make sure we do."

"All weekend? Woman, you're going to kill me . . . but what a way to go! Come back down, here, you."

Instead of complying, she lifted her legs and turned completely around facing my feet. Then she lay back on my chest with her back arched, stretched her arms over her head, turned to rub her face on mine and murmured "Fuck me, Denny, fuck me royally."

I hooked the heels of both my foot and my prosthesis against the foot of the bench and began to drive upwards and into her. My hands ran down the mounds and hollows of her body, teasing, fondling and caressing. "Denny," she whispered, "your hands are so hot."

I squeezed her pliant breasts tighter then began to twist and pull first on one nipple then the other. At each little tug Oli twitched like she'd been shocked. I pulled harder and the twitches became spasms. "More please more," she moaned. Saliva trickled from her open mouth.

Deeply driving into her cleft with both phallus and fingers, I found her sopping wet, her labia swollen and puffy with desire. My hands and manhood glistened with her juices as I slowly, so slowly quickened my pace. Then, when it seemed she could stand no more teasing I grasped her protruding clitoris between my thumb and forefinger and squeezed.

Olivia screamed and I had to hold her down for fear her orgasm would throw her off of me onto the ground. Spasms became near seizures and she shouted and mumbled incoherently. It seemed to go on and one until finally she gushed all over my cock and thighs.

When it was at last over, Olivia reached down and grabbed my wrist, pulling it away from her sex. "Enough, Denny, enough. That's all I can take for now. Oh my God what you do to me, lover. Now hold still for just a while so I can catch my breath."

Once Oli had come down, she got off, pulled me up into a sitting position, turned me sideways on the bench and then impaled herself on my lap. Her arms snaked around my neck and her legs around my back. Her mouth was hot and her tongue a glowing coal in my mouth. She rubbed her peg-stiff nipples back and forth on my chest for the longest time until my vision blurred. Then she straightened up.

"Hold still," she commanded, "this is called the Wave of Bliss. Liz told me about it." Olivia started to slowly rock her pelvis up and down, stroking my manhood and rubbing my pelvis with her clit. "Look into my right eye, concentrate on it. Now match my breathing." Long deep breaths flowed between us, the fragrance of her arousal hypnotizing me until I felt I was falling deep, deep into her emerald eyes, falling forever, almost joining mind and soul with my wife's. We completely lost track of time together . . . so dinner was really late that night.

July stretched into August. More and more I began to look forward to Ray's weekends with us. He'd always been a "for business" golfer who never really enjoyed the game. Now he discovered my delight in bass fishing and began to share it. The day he drove up with a pair of kayaks on the roof rack, we silently slid them onto the water and laid our plastic worms into grass flats and next to logs.

There's something almost sexual about fishing like that. Long, narrow kayaks slip wetly over the water to a steady beat of the paddles. Each back-and-forth cast increases the tension and the anticipation rises until the fish suddenly takes the bait in a great explosive rush, leaping clear of the water and making your hair stand on end. The day we brought home Ray's first really big largemouth bass, he was shaking with excitement. Liz said he hadn't been that proud the since he'd taken over the bank. I was proud of him, too.

Occasionally their daughter, Sarah, would come up for a visit. Most of the year she was away at a very high-grade prep school, sweating her way towards a medical career, but on vacation she came home. Being sixteen, she was happier in town with her friends but would occasionally simply have to get in some "mom" time with Elizabeth. Happily, upon being introduced to us, she immediately labeled us Uncle Den and Auntie Ol and included us in her teenage chatter, her hugs, cheek kisses and all the other little things that show you how delightful a really well-brought-up young person can be. We thought it would be a shame that when we returned to town, Sarah would be gone again.

The school year was approaching and so was the end of our idyll. You would think that I was most upset because it meant the end of a 'vacation' but I'd have blushed to admit that down deep I was jealous of Liz's high school English students. That's right, jealous, because I'd become used to the combined attention both women showed me and now her students were about to take some of it away. Olivia's and my sex life had certainly been 'spiced up' over the last month, but I found my eyes periodically wandering over to a bikini full of blond Elizabeth. It was making me wonder if I hadn't made a serious mistake when I put a stop to the swap.

My feelings were almost certainly aided and abetted by the occasional gentle strokes she made on my hair, the touches on my face and, every once in a while, friendly swats on my butt.

When Ray came up, his ardor for his wife didn't bother me at all. After all, she was his woman, whatever my changing feelings for her might be. I didn't resent his obvious admiration of Olivia, either. After all, if other men don't have a yen for your lady, why would you? One evening when we stood next to each other grilling up a mess of fresh catfish for dinner, we looked down towards the lake where the two bikinied women were cavorting and splashing around. A warm smile lit up his face and he murmured "Aren't women wonderful?"

"Those two, especially" I agreed. "I just have to feel that somehow they not only belong to us but that they belong together. Weird, huh?"

Ray looked at me for a long time but just smiled.

No, it wasn't just Ray and I who bonded that summer. Liz and Olivia often giggled like schoolgirls over things I didn't hear and when Ray arrived each Friday with steaks and drinks my Oli would flirt shamelessly with him, though from the "safety" of my lap. If you had asked, then, I'd have called those two months the best time of my life.

EMBRACED

It was late September and once more we sat around the dining table at the Oppenheimers. The last four months had been an education for me in fine food and wine in the same way it had been in freshwater angling for Ray. He and I had become very close and perhaps our wives had become even closer.

As the four of us lingered over port, nuts and cheese, I thought that this was what Olivia probably really wanted when she tried to set us up for a swinging party. It wasn't recreational sex I needed most, though, but companionship and a warm return to the community. Close, perhaps, my dearest, but no cigar.

"Wonderful dinner, as usual, Liz," I began. "Oli and I are really going to miss this when we move back into our house. The renters have given notice so I guess we're about to reclaim our property. Tanya has been very patient during my convalescence but the firm has gotten in a couple of really big contracts and they need me back. And I have to admit that I'm beginning to feel a need to start carrying my own weight in the world again."

Moving back into our house was an emotional wrench but neither Oli nor I could comfortably live off the Oppenheimer's good nature forever. Besides, those major contracts Tanya told me about meant a promotion as soon as I reported back. New people were being hired and skilled technicians were being promoted to supervisor. I was one of the first to be tapped.

The first day of October I parked my truck at Black Canyon Park once again but this time I wasn't alone. I pulled the emergency brake with a creak and, taking the white hard hat off my dusty dashboard, stepped out into the pungent, smoky, autumn air. Tanya got out of the other side and slammed the door. We nodded silently to each other and started marching down the path in step, our boots crunching on the gravel.

At the food of the bridge, the company's construction engineers were in conference with the mayor, the head of the state transportation agency, and our local Congressman's chief of staff. Black Canyon Bridge had taken its last life, and it was sweet revenge to be lead man on the computer assisted design team. "Never again, you steel monster," I heard Tanya mutter through her teeth, "never again!"