Before They Were Stars - Deborah Norville

She smiled at me and said, "You know that I'm not twenty-one for another month and a half, right?"

"I suppose that if I had considered your age I would have realized that, but I was more focused on you driving back to Athens tonight, so my offer was for a non-alcoholic beverage. Check out the refrigerator, there should be a selection of sodas in there. What do you like on your pizza? I can have one delivered for us so that you can eat something too before you head back."

Deborah laughed, selected a can of ginger ale out of the refrigerator, and said, "I'm a college student. We eat anything on a pizza crust."

When the pizza arrived and I had paid the driver, I asked, "Want to sit by the pool while we eat?"

"Don't you want to watch the six o'clock news?" Deborah asked as she followed me outside.

"No, I'll usually watch the eleven o'clock edition so I can catch the latest sports scores. The news is generally the same."

Sitting at one of the tables beside the pool, Deborah surveyed the backyard and asked, "Where do you keep the vacuum hose and stuff for cleaning the pool?"

I pointed to the pool house, which was basically just a couple of changing rooms, and said, "Around the back of that is a storage area for everything. There should be enough chemicals there for one or two treatments, so just let me know when something needs to be replenished."

She nodded and continued eating her pizza as she looked around. Her eyes landed on the French Doors leading to the master suite and said, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"You can ask, but I may not answer you."

"My aunt says that she keeps coming up with excuses not to have sex with my uncle since she discovered that he has been cheating on her. What about you?"

"I'm not having sex with your aunt or your uncle," I teased.

"Cute. Is that your way of not answering my personal question or just an attempt to lighten the mood?"

"Neither really, I just haven't verbalized anything related to Karla's cheating with anyone. I mean, obviously you and I have discussed some aspects of it, and your aunt and I have come to some agreements on how and when we want to proceed with things, but the rawness of her betrayal is still too fresh in many ways. However, to answer your very personal question, like your aunt, I keep making excuses not to be intimate in any way with Karla. So far, it hasn't been difficult because I sense that she is getting all that she needs from your uncle."

"Won't a lack of interest make her suspect that you know about her affair?"

"I doubt it," I said. "As long as I remain upbeat and acting normally in every other aspect of our relationship, she'll discount my lack of sexual interest as being work-related or something."

"Why do you think that they are doing it?" she asked. "I mean, I've known my Uncle Cecil was a lecherous pervert for years. When my mom and dad got divorced, we had to practically beat my uncle away from our house with sticks. Everyone felt that my aunt married way under her level when she married my uncle, and when I compare him to you, there is no way that any woman with functioning eyesight would choose him. Your wife is okay in the looks department, but my Aunt Claire is beautiful in every way. So, I guess my uncle and your wife are more suitable for each other than their current spouses, but is that why they're risking the affair? It doesn't make sense to me."

"None of this makes sense to me," I told her. "I thought that Karla and I were doing great. She didn't want kids, and I was left infertile when I contracted the mumps as a teenager so that always seemed to work in our favor. We don't need her income, so she works just to keep herself busy. I thought our sex life was satisfying for both of us, but her obvious skill as an actress now needs to be taken into account."

"Do you think that Karla married you for your money? You are part of a very well off family."

I shook my head and said, "She willingly signed a prenuptial agreement before we were married. She knows that infidelity leaves her with only five-thousand dollars for each year of our marriage if I divorce her."

"How long have you been married?"

"It will be ten years on October 6th. We were both twenty when we said our vows."

"Vows that she has now broken," Deborah said sadly. She then added, "Will, I hope you know how much I respect you, both personally and professionally. I also hope that you know that you can trust that no one will ever learn about your wife's betrayal from me. I can understand your reluctance to share your feelings about what you are going through, but since I am going to be around a bit during the summer, if I can do anything to help you through this, please ask."

"Thanks, Kiddo. I may take you up on that. When do you think that you will be staying here for the first time?"

"You're probably going to think I'm nuts, but I was considering staying here tonight. I'll need to run out to pick up a toothbrush and a few things, then I can drive to Athens in the morning against the traffic to pack up the stuff that I will want to keep her, like my suits and stuff."

I was surprisingly happy with her response. Deborah had unwittingly wormed her way into a very personal aspect of my life - my wife's infidelity - and had shown to be both understanding and supportive of my situation. I found myself welcoming her company.

"I think that makes sense," I told her. "Before you run out to buy anything, though, go check out the cabinet in your bathroom. I know that there are new toothbrushes in there, but also an assortment of other toiletries. Unless the fragrance of the deodorant is offensive to you, I think you might find everything you need, for one night least."

Deborah smiled and said, "I'm sure everything will be fine for me. Is there any chance that you might have something for me to sleep in? Maybe an old t-shirt?"

"Clean or dirty?" I teased.

Deborah surprised me by leaning closer to me and sniffing. "I could live with either," she said with a wink.

So began our pseudo-roommate relationship. Deborah always worked at WAGA-TV on the weekends, but frequently found assignments and reporting opportunities during the week that had her staying at my house in Buckhead almost every night of the week during the summer. Karla was seldom home during the week, claiming business trips to the carpet mills in Dalton made it more convenient for her to spend the nights there rather than drive back to Atlanta.

Deborah spent most of the weekends and any days that Karla was home either working or making herself scarce by hiding out in her bedroom. While I found myself having little difficulty acting normal on the few occasions when Karla and Deborah were in the house together, it was obvious to me that Deborah was fighting an urge to tear into Karla, both as revenge for her aunt, but also due to Karla's disrespect of me and our marriage.

One evening, when Karla was gone, Deborah asked, "Have you ever considered hiring a private investigator to get more evidence of Karla's cheating?"

I shook my head and said, "No, the pictures and video that your aunt shared with me will be more than adequate for proving adultery to the court."

"But I don't think my uncle is the only man she is having an affair with. Don't you want to know if there might be someone besides him?"

I glanced over the top of my sunglasses at Deborah, no longer distracted by the sight of her in the conservative one-piece bathing suits that she wore as we lounged outside by the pool.

"What makes you think that she is seeing someone besides your uncle?" I asked.

"Because her schedule of trips to Dalton hasn't changed in the last two weeks, and my uncle has been in Pennsylvania with my aunt that whole time."

"So that's why I haven't heard from Claire..." I said.

"They're dealing with some estate matter from one of my uncle's relatives," Deborah explained. "Apparently, the bequest was made to a third cousin and my uncle, so he is trying to challenge cousin's right to anything from the estate of this relative."

Many emotions within the human experience are incredibly powerful. Anger is one. Sadness is a thing that can overwhelm a person. Despair can drive a human being to take his or her own life. I thought that my anger over Karla's cheating had subsided, and now that I had developed a plan for revenge, it mostly had. I still had bouts of sadness over what I perceived as my failure as a husband and mate to the woman I had loved, but I have to tell you, the genuine adoration of a stunningly beautiful twenty-year-old woman can be quite the salve for a man's ego and self-esteem.

Having Deborah as a confidant also prevented me from ever feeling anything close to despair over the end of my marriage. I didn't ever envision the prospect of anything more than a fond friendship with Deborah, but her companionship gave me the hope of a brighter future with someone else. Deborah and I had found genuine contentment with each other, something that most people don't find until they have been married fifty or sixty years.

"Whether her liaisons are with one man or one-hundred, it makes no difference," I said. "My interest in what Karla does ended once I saw the proof that your Aunt Claire shared with me."

"I guess I can see that," Deborah said. "Do you have any plans for Saturday afternoon?"

"Karla said that she won't be home this weekend, so I'm open as far as I know. Why?"

"Because I am scheduled to do only the eleven o'clock news on Saturday and thought that I might try to catch a matinee. There is a new John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John movie showing that I hear is pretty good. I wanted to know if you would like to come with me."

"Is that the movie version of 'Grease'?" I asked. "I saw the play on Broadway and I would love to see how they adapted it to the big screen. Wait, isn't next Wednesday your birthday?"

"Yes, it is. It's sweet that you remembered."

"Then you're not working the eleven o'clock news Saturday night. All employees of WAGA-TV get their birthdays off, with pay. Since you're not scheduled to work on Wednesday, I'll give you Saturday off instead. We can still do the movie if you want, but I would like to take you out to dinner to celebrate your birthday afterward if you're available."

"You don't have to do that," Deborah said. "I would be just as happy to spend a quiet birthday here with you."

"No way!" I said. "A young lady only turns twenty-one once in her life, although she may claim to be twenty-one for several more years. We need to get you fed before getting you juiced."

"Why, Mr. Statler," she said, in a pretty good impersonation of a southern debutante's voice, "is it your intention to get little ole me inebriated so that you can have your way with me?"

"Your virtue is safe with me, I assure you."

"Well, darn. That doesn't sound like much of a celebration. What if I don't want my virtue protected?"

The corner of Deborah's mouth was turned up on the same side as her raised eyebrow. She was playing with her ponytail in that flirtatious way that women do as she studied my face.

She was five feet eight inches and one-hundred-twenty-five pounds of innocent sensuality, and she was showing me that she knew how to use it. I was silent as I considered how to respond.

Deborah asked, "Does my interest in expanding our relationship bother you?"

I shook my head and said, "Not only does your interest not bother me, but I am also flattered beyond words by it. Unfortunately, even if Karla's infidelity might have released me from my wedding vows, at least in spirit, I would still feel that my cheating would give her a 'get-out-of-jail-free' card, even if she never knew that she had it. I could not, in my own mind at least, hold the moral high ground when seeking a divorce on the grounds of adultery if I also cheated on her."

Deborah considered my word for several minutes before saying, "Actually, I would have been surprised with any other response from you. Can I tell you something though?"

"You know you can," I assured her.

"Yes, I do know, but I always want to give you the chance to decline. Will, I am not very experienced sexually. It hasn't really been a problem for me because my studies haven't allowed me time to be in that many relationships. My boyfriend in high school was the first guy that I had sex with, and there has only been one other; a guy that was a study partner of mine when my boyfriend told me that he was breaking up with me. It's not that I don't think about sex or anything, I just have learned to channel my physical desires into other pursuits. That is getting harder to do being around you as much as I am while living here. Let's face it, Will, you're a very good looking man, with a wonderfully athletic body, an amazing sense of humor, charm coming out your ears, and I have seen that something about me has aroused you from time to time."

"Kiddo, I would never try to pretend that you aren't someone that I would welcome into my bed under the right circumstances, but I will not cheat on the cheater who is still my wife."

"I understand, Will. Can you explain to me what constitutes cheating in your eyes?"

I thought for a few seconds and said, "I think that willingly giving a part of yourself, or sharing an intimacy that should be exclusively bestowed upon your spouse is cheating. It doesn't even have to involve a sexual act. It could something as seemingly innocent as sharing a secret with someone that you keep from your spouse."

"Hmmm," Deborah said, "that doesn't leave much."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I was hoping to find some things that you and I could share that you wouldn't feel should be reserved only for Karla. Spending time with you, getting to know you, and learning to care about you makes me want to do more with you. I know the situation that you are in with your marriage places limits on us, but I was hoping that it wouldn't restrict us entirely from getting closer in some way."

"I'm sure we could find things," I told her, "but then would we want to stop there. For example, I have no qualms about us hugging each other, but I know that feeling you in my arms will instantly open up greater desires for me..."

"It would for me too," she said, "but that doesn't mean that we would act upon those desires. Can we try that? Will you hold me in your arms?"

I smiled and said, "I'll tell you what, let's wait until Saturday. After I take you to dinner for your birthday, we'll find someplace to go dancing. Slow dancing. What do you think?"

"I love that idea. I know that you will feel more confident in resisting desires if we are in a public place. I would like to offer a suggestion for something that is sort of intimate, but I think you will find is not exclusively for you and Karla."

"What's that?" I asked.

Deborah jumped up and took my hand. Standing to join her, she led us back into the house towards her bedroom. Upon entering the room, she pushed me to sit on her bed and said, "Wait here a second."

She went into her bathroom and closed the door behind herself. In less than a minute, she reopened the door wearing a short robe. She had removed her bathing suit and released her hair from the ponytail.

"Come on in," she said.

I stood and followed her into the bathroom. She took a seat on the small chair in front of the vanity facing the mirror as I moved to stand beside her. Glancing up at my reflection in the mirror, she handed me a hairbrush.

"Will, please brush out my hair for me."

Now, this was something that I had never done with Karla, not that I wouldn't have if she had asked. I reasoned that while a man brushing a woman's hair could be considered an intimate act, there were situations where it wouldn't be, such as a male hairdresser tending to a customer, or an adult brushing a younger girl's hair before she went to bed. Deborah was almost ten years younger than me, so I latched onto the last scenario and began to gently brush her shoulder-length blonde hair.

I kept my eyes focused mostly on the placement of the brush on Deborah's head, but I would occasionally glance up to meet her eyes in the mirror. She had a joyous expression on her face with a smile that tugged at my heart.

"I've never brushed anyone's hair before, so let me know if I am not doing it correctly," I told her.

"I've never had my hair brushed by anyone before, other than a hairdresser or my mom when I was younger, but if I knew how it would make me feel, I would have sought to do it long ago. No, I can't say that, because I know in my heart that is because it is you doing it that it feels so amazing to me. I doubt that anyone I have known could make this experience as wonderful as you are, Will."

"How does it make you feel?" I asked.

Deborah thought for a moment and said, "I feel several things. I feel cherished, adored, pampered, and safe. I also feel desirable and sensuous under your touch. Those are the emotional feelings. Physically, I am feeling a tingling in certain parts of my body, flushed in other parts, and overall, more aroused than I have ever been in my life. You're making me one horny young woman, Will Statler. How does that make you feel?"

I continued brushing her hair as I said, "For the most part, it makes me feel guilty. I know what it's like to be frustrated by unfulfilled desires, which is why I mentioned my concerns about how one act could lead us to want more. It looks like brushing your hair is like that for you, and I am sorry to have contributed to your frustration."

Deborah reached back and put her hand on mine that was holding the brush, "Please don't feel guilty. This is what I wanted and I will deal with things without compromising your integrity or morals where your marriage is concerned. She smiled up at my reflection, released my hand, and said, "Look where your hand is on the brush."

I glanced down at the slender handle of the hairbrush encased within my hand. I opened my hand and studied the hard plastic surface.

"Your hand has warmed it up for me," Deborah said. "I won't forget that fact when I use it later."

~~~

"It sounds like you and Aunt Claire have things synchronized almost to the minute," Deborah said as she kneaded the lotion into my lower back muscles.

I had agreed to let her give me a massage every time that I brushed her hair. These were intimacies that I accepted as ones that friends could share without crossing the realm of infidelity. Deborah had suggested a few other things for us to try, such as me letting her shave my face, or for me to remove and reapply nail polish on her fingers, but so far, we hadn't tried anything else.

"We thought it best to spring the trap on both rats at the same time," I said, enjoying the warming of my upper thighs that always accompanied the growing arousal that Deborah experienced when her panty-clad pussy rested on top of me. Soon, I would feel the dampness on the fabric just before she would shift her body off of mine.

"Do I need to show a receipt for the surety bond when I take the exam?" she asked.

Deborah has asked if she could be the person who served the divorce papers on Karla. We had researched the requirements for process servers in Georgia and learned that they included taking a twelve-hour class, passing an exam as well as a background check, and obtaining a surety bond. She was scheduled to take the exam the next day, and everything else was completed.

"The surety bond was filed with the Court by the insurance company that issued it," I assured her. "You just need to pass the exam tomorrow and everything will be in place. You might even be able to pick up a few assignments from other lawyers before our big day comes."

"I'm only interested in serving Karla," Deborah said as she finished the massage and lay on the bed beside me. "I wouldn't mind being the one to serve Uncle Cecil, but I couldn't do both at the same time, which is what you guys have planned. Choosing between the two, I pick yours."