Chance: A Day in May Ch. 11

Duncan was up his usual time the next morning, feeling like the spear bearer in an opera; necessary but really only taking up space. Gerry came down for breakfast. The two men shared the meal with Helen. Over coffee Gerald asked him if he could talk with him in his home office.

Following the man down the hall to his office Duncan noticed him weaving almost imperceptibly, even stumbling slightly a couple times as he walked. Gerry looked very tired. Duncan wondered if the man had slept at all that night, the bruising under his eyes showed how weary he was.

Gerry stood aside, holding the office door open, letting Duncan enter first, then shutting it firmly behind them. He shuffled off to his desk then seemed to collapse into the chair. After a moment Gerry looked up and caught the puzzled look on Duncan's face. "Yeah, not as smooth as yesterday am I?"

Catching the questioning look Duncan was giving him; Gerry glanced down, then looked up under his eyebrows. He cleared his throat before hoarsely adding, "Let's not walk around the issue, Duncan. I heard what the Doc said. When I came home I looked Brain Cancer up on the internet. I'm as close to 100% gone as they come and still be walking around. Some of these symptoms I've had for a while. I suspect my time is less than months. Maybe a couple weeks, maybe less. I think you noticed as we left the kitchen my coordination isn't as good this morning as it was yesterday afternoon. I'm not going to tell my wife, there's no reason to upset her more than she is now. There's no way that news would help her handle this."

There was silence in the room for a few minutes as the two men digested Gerry's words.

"What can I do for you, Gerry?" Duncan asked quietly. "I'm feeling uncomfortable just sitting around. I don't have anything pressing back home, but I don't understand how I can help by just being here. At the moment I feel like that third wheel."

There was another pause before Gerry answered, "This is going to be hard to say, Duncan. And I want you to understand there's no animosity. But I've had a little time to think about the twists my life has taken in the past four or five years. Then this cancer thing landed on me. How much do you know about the trip I just came back from?"

Duncan looked at him levelly, thinking about his answer, "Well, you and your Admin Assistant ended up in Singapore after leaving Helen in Ritzville. You ducked out on a vacation with your wife meant to reignite your marriage. Somewhere in there the Admin Assistant disappeared and you spent time alone in Singapore before you came home."

After another of the long pauses conversation in this house seemed so prone to, Duncan continued, "Something didn’t feel right when you left Helen alone in Ritzville so I asked a company that does investigations for me to find out what was going on. I mean, Helen was very upset. After I got the report I still didn't understand leaving an attractive woman like Helen stranded in a strange town." Another pause before he continued quietly, "I wasn't going to tell Helen, but when she called me in Seattle, just wanting someone to talk to… Well I drove to Chelan and gave her the report. At the time I figured it was going to destroy any friendship she and I had developed. Still, I thought she needed the information. Knowing what's happening is a whole lot better than wandering around in a dark room, banging into the furniture. That's a hell of a simile, but I think you understand what I mean."

Helen's husband leveled a stare at him for a moment, then continued in a hesitant voice after another pause, "That's about what I figured happened. I know you and Helen have a 'connection' but I also know the kind of man you are; and I know Helen. Don't feel that I am accusing you of anything. But I've lived with the woman a lot of years now. I still love her, and I think she still cares for me. But when you two are in a room together there are sparks. And those sparks are what I'm going to rely on…"

Gerry's eyes dropped to his hands where he fumbled with the pen from an expensive desk set. The room was silent, only slight sounds coming from the living room where Helen was straightening up broke the stillness.

Duncan sat stone still studying his hands, thinking of the man sitting across the room from him. This Gerry was very different from the man Duncan met in the rest area east of Ritzville. This man was clear eyed despite the pain Duncan saw in his eyes and posture. Somehow the self involvement Duncan had sensed those weeks ago had disappeared. In its place was a man, sick unto death, caring and worrying about the woman he had wed so many years ago. The woman he had, for a time, forgotten and emotionally deserted.

For the first time Duncan understood him, sensing the man who had attracted Helen, the man she had married. The question of how he had attracted such a strong woman was solved, now he knew. Gerry had taken a wrong turn in his life, discovering it almost too late to do anything about turning it around. All Duncan could do was conjecture on how long ago and how seriously the tumor had affected him. Was the personality change all the result of the tumor, or was there something else? Duncan would never know.

Was it too late?

And who would suffer if it was? Would it be Gerry, Helen, Duncan… or would it be all three? Who would suffer if it was not too late? Would it be possible somehow that this disaster could be turned around?

Outside the world continued, in this room time was held in suspense.

The two men sat quietly, soundlessly communicating. At last Gerry struggled to his feet, Duncan rising with him. The two men clasped hands; their eyes caught one to each. With a small, strange smile Gerald showed Duncan to the door.

As Duncan paused in the hallway, Gerry added, "I know we can count on you, Duncan. Will you be able to stay here?"

"Is that what you want, Gerry? Wouldn't it be better if I returned to Seattle for a few weeks, coming back later?"

After another of those pauses, Gerry answered, "You may be right. But if you take that route, returning to Seattle, don't leave your return until too late. I would prefer you stay. I'm a fighter and I haven't given up. At the same time I can tell, day by day, sometimes hour by hour how this thing in my head is progressing."

"Somehow I must talk to Helen, get her to understand. Make her know she has my blessing and that I still love her." He bowed his head a moment, "Let her know I trust her judgement and that anything she thinks is right,ISright."

Duncan nodded soberly before agreeing, "Let me talk to Helen, see what she wants. No way will I tell her about this conversation. That must come from you."

His eyes on the man suffering in front of him Duncan thought, then said it out loud, "Gerry, I apologize for my earlier thoughts. You are a hell of a man!"

"I was once, Duncan. And maybe I am again. I hope so. Coming from you that is high praise." With that he turned back into the office, leaving the door open.

Duncan spent the next few hours turning over Gerry's request. Then that evening he sat down to talk with Helen. He explained he had been thinking, planning on heading home but wondered if she would prefer he stay and help her. He was willing to do anything in which she needed help. She promised to think about it, they would talk about it the next day.

The next day Duncan sat down with Helen and Gerald. Helen was badly shaken, when Gerry tried to get out of bed he had collapsed forward off the bed. This last sign forced her to realize what the doctor had been unwilling to tell her.

After Helen helped him back to bed Gerry laid out to her what he had learned on the Internet. When she broke down he had held her, assuring her he had already realized where this was going. He had accepted it and his biggest worry was how she was going to handle this when it happened. That was when he asked her to bring Duncan in to talk with them.

Together the three of them planned the best way for the family to handle the situation. Duncan flew back to Wenatchee that evening, leaving his RV in Boise. There he caught a bus to Chelan, picked up the small car he had left there and then drove back to Boise.

Within a week the kids had come to accept him as a part of the family. Sitting with them, Duncan helped Helen and Gerry plan and advised them how to wrap up Gerry's affairs.

When Duncan had agreed to remain in Boise he hadn't seen how he could keep himself occupied. To his surprise he found himself wondering where he could add an hour or two to the day to get everything done.

Being the man he was Duncan made no demands on the woman he now knew he loved. It wasn't easy ignoring the attraction the way she looked at him, the unconscious little touches as they worked together. There was still something between them. Until the family tragedy worked itself out that had to be put on hold. He resigned himself to the possibility it would never go any further.

In the end, Gerald Conningham lived another ten weeks before Helen woke up one morning to make breakfast then return upstairs to discover her husband had died.

It was Duncan who supervised the final arrangements for the funeral, having discussed it several times with Gerry himself over the weeks. He remained in the background, now accepted as a family friend by the visiting relatives. Helen's daughter and son had come to rely on his steadfast strength, themselves welcoming him into their small family group.

He moved to a hotel right after the death, not wanting to call Helen's behavior into question. He stayed there for almost two weeks after the funeral, but taking his meals with the family. In the end he found the kids calling on him repeatedly to handle problems and just for the strength to go forward.

The final act came on an evening when the kids had come to dinner. It was just four weeks after the funeral. The gloom of losing father and husband was diminishing and the mood around the table was almost upbeat.

The kids left early, either dates or studies, Duncan didn't understand which. Truth be told he couldn't care less which it was. He liked the kids and saw no reason to question their actions. Part of the reason it was so easy for him to do was Helen's complete confidence in them.

After they left Duncan settled in the living room, taking his place on a couch where large pillows nearly two feet deep took the place of the normal upholstering. He relaxed back into the pillows for a moment, telling himself he was just being sociable, staying past her children's departure. Watching the flames in the fireplace Conrad had started before he left, Duncan assured himself he was not pushing himself into her life. His presence was meant to steady her as she recovered from her grief. He was absolutely not taking advantage of her emotional distress.

Helen disappeared into her room to change into a light housedress. It was one of her favorites, buttoning down the front from neckline to hemline. One thing she loved about it was that it so loose she could just slip it over her head. Leaving the master bedroom she went to the kitchen, quickly loading the dishwasher and straightening up after the meal. Leaving the kitchen she paused in the doorway, looking back over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't missed anything. The light was behind her.

The sight inflamed Duncan who until then had been able to keep 'that' part of himself under control. The light weight dress became nearly translucent, the sway of her breasts made it obvious they were unfettered. Duncan was even able to make out the substance of her brief bikini panties under the dress.

Somehow he tore his glance from her before she turned around. Then he leaned forward to conceal the sudden bulge in his pants.

*****His presence in the house comforted Helen. He was a man she trusted and she had grown accustomed to his presence in her home. That her charms were revealed by the lighting never crossed her mind.

It didn't show but Helen's grief and guilt were building to a peak. Despite the confidence and control she was showing, Helen was on the verge of a breakdown.

The man she had loved and married so many years ago had been lost, then rediscovered. He had deserted her and while he was gone a new man had come on the scene. Neither Helen nor Duncan had planned or even wanted the sudden wild passion that had exploded in their lives. Then her first love had returned, reclaiming his place in her life.

With Gerry's sudden return her emotions became a hopeless muddle. Still, the man she had vowed to cling to in sickness and in health had returned. Flying back to Boise Helen had known he was ill and that was going to be a factor in her relationship with him. Despite seeing signs of his intending to leave her, he was here.

On the flight back she had worked to build again the feelings she had held for him all those years. Then she landed to find he was sick unto death. To her amazement, she discovered the man who returned was the man she had married not the man who had left her in Ritzville. The Gerry she loved was back. And he was dying.

Duncan had driven to her aid. Every thing he had done had been without her asking. Not once had he showed he deserved anything for his efforts. All he had done was to pitch in and make bearable an impossible situation. Duncan told her the Gerry he met in Boise was a fine man, a man Duncan admired and liked.

She loved Gerry. Yet she had feelings, even love for Duncan too. It was tearing her up. Worse was the guilt she felt now with Gerry gone. One part of her wanted now to accept Duncan as her man. Another part was outraged that she could even consider such a thing with her husband and lover, father to her children, hardly cold in the ground. Helen had no idea where this was going. She feared where it would end.

On impulse she paused at the liquor cabinet to pour two stiff brandies. As she crossed the room to where Duncan was sitting she flipped on the stereo. As luck would have it the machine was loaded with ballads, love songs from the 50's and 60's. Handing a drink to Duncan she swirled the liquor in the big balloon glass she held, burying her nose in it for the aroma while the old torch songs sang around her.

With Helen's presence swamping his awareness Duncan was having trouble paying attention. Somehow Duncan managed to take the snifter she held out, taking a large mouthful as she sat down beside him amid the pillows of the sofa. The room was comfortably lit with one lamp and light from the fading sunset coming through the large window looking into the secluded backyard.

The two settled side by side on the sofa, watching the play of the flames. He fought with himself to keep control, the brandy didn't help. This woman didn’t need something else to rock her emotions.

Helen had no such inhibition. She felt comfortably safe in Duncan's presence. She desperately needed someone to rely on, caught as she was in a swirl of emotions. Some of those emotions were being generated by proximity to the man sitting beside her. In almost no time her glass was empty and she poured herself another, shifting closer to her companion when she sat down. Not aware she was doing so she snuggled up to him, wrapping her arms around his arm, hugging it tightly to her. It felt natural to do so. When she laid her head on his shoulder she sighed as they sat together in the growing dark of the evening.

The feel of Helen pressed around his arm had Duncan enraptured. He knew he should get up and go. There are many times one knows exactly what he should due but is unable to do so.

The firelight flickering its shadows in the room, Chris Connor singing of love and the brandy Helen had imbibed combined to relax her hold on her emotions. When Duncan felt Helen trembling he looked down to see two tears tracking down her cheeks. Pulling his arm loose he put it around her and pulled her against his chest.

That was all it took to release the torrent of emotion that had been building inside her. In an instant she was sobbing, her tears soaking the shirt where her face was buried. The strength of her arms wrapped around him was near enough to stop his breath.

"Oh, God Duncan! Oh God! He's gone, he's gone, I'll never be able to fix it now. I loved him, Duncan; I loved him with all my heart until this thing changed him!

"I was turning from him, Duncan. Then he came back to me and died!"

For long Duncan held through her heartbroken sobs: Holding her, his own bruised heart near breaking. He had no right, no right what-so-ever to feel a loss. How could he lose something he had never had? But the felt loss was too agonizing not to be real. He too grieved, nearly as deeply as did the woman crying in his arms. Duncan grieved for a love barely found, a man's unstinting friendship that was lost before it could even be accepted. Most of all he grieved for the woman sobbing in his arms.

How long she cried neither knew. He began stroking her back, kneading her arms, trying to comfort in any way he could. Helen nestled ever more closely as she bawled her distress, until finally even the heartbreak became normalized and until slowly the tears stilled. At long last the sobs disappeared leaving behind only the felt need for the other, the warmth and ease of their bodies touching.

Clasping her gently against his chest, Duncan leaned forward; grabbing the pillows they were resting against, then tossed them off behind the couch. Then he twisted, lying back against the pillow serving as an arm of the couch. Shifting the woman he held in his arms, he settled them comfortably in the bottom of the couch, now nearly as wide as a full sized bed. Duncan held her gently to him, stroking her back and shoulders while murmuring soft promises neither understood as she relaxed against him.

Finally her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep nestled on his shoulder, her body resting against the length of his. As she slept Duncan fought tears. He had no right or hold on this woman. She was everything he wanted and needed. But she had met him, known him, only as a part of her despair as her marriage broke apart.

Dawn was lighting the windows when Helen awoke. As sleep left her she grew aware of the man holding her as she slept. Waking further she recognized his distress. Her woman's sense understood the sadness with which her grief had flooded him. Even as sleep left her she let her hands begin comforting him; stroking his sides, nuzzling the hollow of his throat, play with his hair. As she grew more fully aware it felt only natural to trail tiny kisses on the man in whose arms she had once again spent the night.

She held him tenderly in her arms. Initially all she felt was compassion.

Duncan came awake to her caresses, beginning to rub his face into her hair even as Helen smoothed her face against the fabric of his shirt and the chest now only partially hidden under the shirt.

The night spent in his arms, with no demands except to be herself released the tension that had been building. With the man's comforting presence, his lack of demands on her eased her, made it natural for Helen to be pulled even closer to him.

As they lay there together the kisses became more serious, more heated until finally their lips sealed them tightly together. This time when their lips met the passion was there to be tasted. Unconsciously Helen shifted to her side, allowing her hands to burrow under his shirt and smooth the soft pelt found there, caressing the masculine roughness of his skin.

After the night spent healing the passion of grief, the grief morphed into passion of the flesh. The shared tragedy was still there but now the impossible triangle was broken; gone in a way no one desired, but gone. For the moment the guilt and sorrow surrounding her loss was forgotten and the bond between the two solidified, welding them ever closer.