Ben and Melissa Ch. 01

They fell into the seat and into each other's arms. "Wonderful," he breathed.

She held his chin in her hand, "Oh yes."

He pulled his pants back up as she fixed herself for the drive home. Still seated in the back, he turned to her; he had to ask. "Why in the car?"

"I planned it. No, not tonight. Not even since I met you. Long ago, a very long time ago.

"After I got out of jail, I had a look back over my life and tried to figure out where I had gone wrong and when. I never was able exactly to pinpoint that, but I was sure about one thing."

He nodded for her to go on.

"The last good night of my life that I can remember—until now, Ben—was a night with a guy in the back seat of a car. He was kind and gentle and loving and not too bad as a lover: we were young.

I wanted to start my life over again, when I got out, and I decided that if I ever got the chance I would start it over with that night in the back seat of a car and be real careful about my choices after that, real careful.

"Anyway, that's why—the car—us—tonight," she said.

"I see," he said.

******

That had been six years earlier. They had made the conscious decision to live together long term—really forever—without, however, getting married. But, in most respects their bond was more than any married bond could have been; it was based on mutual trust and dependence. She never did do windows and they had no children, but they had each other: he the recovering widower and she the former thief.

Everything went well, until three months ago.

Mel had become distant, bored, tired, and less than communicative. Ben became suspicious.

In the law profession, at all levels, those engaged in it become inured to the foibles of human kind. It is almost as if some among the gross of the population are incapable of reasoning or at least caring to reason and let themselves be suborned by outside pressures.

Melissa was not bored with her life though at times their routine could become problematical. And, nothing would have moved her to do what she finally did except for one singular happenstance: the arrival of Jerry Cummings.

******

"Melissa Trent," said the voice behind her.

She turned and looked into the eyes of the man. He was a man now. But he'd been a boy then: the boy who had taken her in the back seat of that Chevy so long ago. She couldn't speak at first; she just stared.

"Jerrry?"

"You remembered. That makes my day," he said smiling broadly.

"What—where—how?"

"I moved here last month. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you were living here. Looks like you've prospered," he said.

For a moment she was speechless once again. "Jerry—I—let's have coffee," she said. "I have a million questions. At least I think I do."

"Me too," he said. "You look great. You're married right? Otherwise we'll be getting a license before this day is out."

His last words should have clued her; they should have been a sign of impending trouble. But, she was so taken up in the circumstances and the shock of seeing him after thirty years that she wasn't thinking clearly.

"No, well sorta, Jerry, and I'm happy. He's a very good man; I lucked out," she said.

They'd been sitting in the restaurant for sometime brushing up on the five W's plus H.

"Too bad for me," he said. "I was kinda hoping..."

"Jerry, how did you find me?" she said.

"Do I have to say?" he said, smirking.

"Yes, it is so weird," she said.

"I hired a private investigator. The PI found out about your time in county. He also found out that you had recently applied for and gotten a new credit card; that made finding you a piece of cake, or so he told me. But, he said he couldn't find out if you were married or not; he concluded that you were not. What does 'sorta' mean, if I might ask," he said.

"I have an arrangement with my lover. We're not legally married as in a church or justice of the peace or whatever, but we are committed. Kinda common law, if you know what I mean. We've been together six years," said Melissa.

"Then the way I figure it," he said, "I have a chance."

"No Jerry, you don't. I love you to pieces, but not that way, not the way I love my Ben."

"Don't mind if I dream a little do you," he said. "I will anyway no matter what."

She laughed at his persistence. "No, go ahead and dream, Jerry; but Jerry, it ain't happenin'."

He just smiled amiably.

They talked for some time. "Anyway," he said, "my company, Software Design, has decided to open an office here, so consider yourself under siege."

"Jerry!"

"Well, anyway," he said, "

******

End of Part one of three