Cryin' in the Rain: Conclusion

"But you were J..." I began.

"Not from the first time that you and I were together," she said. "Why do you think that I came to see you when I had to leave and not him? Did he ever let you read the note I left for him?"

"No," I said. "He just laughed about it."

"Since we were in college, I wrote it at his level," she said. "I wanted to be very clear. It was written or scrawled in blue crayon. It said. Wee R done. C' ya."

I laughed at that.

"You, on the other hand, I told in person, and we spent the most wonderful evening of my life together," she smiled as she said this and started kissing me again.

"Get a room," said the blue lipped beauty again from behind us.

Then I noticed a shadow pass over us and stay there. I looked up to see a man with an olive skin complexion and very dark hair looking at us.

Sarah paused and turned to him.

"We're running out of hamburger again," he said. "I told you we needed to buy more."

"It wasn't on sale then," she said. "It is now. Send one of the boys to get more."

"What I do is an art," he spat. "You can't taint perfection for a few pennies."

"Okay," she said and she kissed me again. "Next time beef isn't on sale; I'll take those few pennies out of your check. He walked away cursing in some language I didn't recognize.

Sarah went back to kissing me. The piano had begun playing Boogie Woogie music again, and no one was paying us any attention. "Who was that guy?" I asked between kisses.

"Don't worry about him," she said. Her breasts were rubbing against me softly while she kissed me as if her life depended on it. "He's only my husband."

I jumped up so quickly that it catapulted her from my lap and sent her sprawling to the floor.

"Dylan," she said. "Don't worry about it. It doesn't matter!"

"You're married!" I yelled. I turned and headed toward the door. "I have to get the fuck out of here."

"Door," she yelled. And suddenly at least four huge truckers were blocking the door. The music stopped again, and everyone was watching us once more.

She walked to me slowly. And when she got to me, she reached into my pocket and took my phone out. She punched in a number and listened to hear it ring. A phone in her pocket started to ring, and she turned mine off.

"Dylan, it's really not what you think," she said. "When you get done with whatever you were supposed to do today, call me, so we can talk about it. We have six years to talk about. However, I'm leaving it up to you. You now have my number. If you don't want to call me... don't."

She turned to the truckers. "Thanks guys. You can let him go."

Then she reached up and kissed me again. "I will kick myself forever if I don't do that," she said. Then she went back to the counter where she'd been, when I came in.

I turned back and started to walk out the door. This time a tiny blue lipped woman stood between me and the door. She had one hand on her hip and the other pointed a finger in my face.

"Dylan, you're supposed to be one of the good guys," she said. "I've been hearing about you every time she gets drunk, for years. You'd better not break her heart again. If you do, I'll track you down and make you sooooo sorry you were ever born." Then she too disappeared into the raucous crowd.

My car is really special to me. It started out as an average 2014 Mustang GT. I added a Roush body kit to make it more aerodynamic. I also added blacked out lights all around it. I blacked out the rims. I added a carbon-fiber splitter and carbon-fiber heat extractors to the hood. I designed and added custom-made side scoops that use ram air to cool the over-sized Brembo brakes I added to the car. I also increased the size of the cross drilled and slotted rotors. Then I went to work on the engine. I swapped out all the original Ford parts for forged aftermarket parts. I added a huge ball bearing supercharger and intercooler.

I got the best paint shop in town to do my paint. It's a beautiful, glossy, slate gray with black accents. My car is one of a kind. There are still a lot of things I can do to improve her, but then there always will be. Every time I see my car, I smile. However, that morning as I walked over to her after leaving that crazy little cafe, I could have been getting into a Honda for all I noticed.

I was on time for my meeting, but only because speed limits don't mean much to me. I was barely conscious during the tour of the facility or the lunch they provided for me. I didn't eat very much even though I was starving. Strangely enough my disinterest worked out well for me. I got a far better price than I expected, simply because they were under the impression that I wasn't happy with what they had to offer.

All day long, I'd tried to concentrate on business, but in the back of my mind, I wrestled with my problem. Sarah loved me. All this time I had never gotten over her, only to find out that she had feelings for me too. Me, not Jimmy. I should never have let her go. However, in both of our cases, life had moved on.

The thing that bothered me most was that Sarah, in her own way, had to be as bad as Jimmy. She had sat there in that little cafe, kissing me as if there was no tomorrow. And all the time, she was married. What kind of whore had she turned out to be? And me... If I began any sort of relationship with her, didn't it make me equally bad. And finally, even though I had cast Gretchen out of my life and was trying my damnedest to get her out of my heart, legally. I was married too. It was one fucked-up situation.

I didn't care a bit about how this would affect Gretchen. By now, she was probably dying to get divorced from me, so she could marry Jimmy. The real thing to me was how this would affect Sarah's husband. What if they had kids?

I was almost back to my car when my phone rang. I looked at the screen and didn't recognize the number. I had to be very careful taking calls from numbers I didn't recognize. I was sure that one of them would one day be Jimmy or Gretchen.

"Dylan, why haven't you called me back yet?" she asked.

"I thought you were letting me decided whether or not I was going to call?" I smiled.

"I just said that so you'd think you had a choice," she said. "I let you get away once, this time Jimmy, and I will have to fight over you. Can I please explain things to you? Rokaj and I are married, but that's it."

"You mean you guys have some sort of open marriage?" I asked.

"Our marriage is so open that you could drive a train through it," she said. "Our marriage is as open as all outdoors." Then as if she's just thought about what she'd said and how it make her seem she gasped.

"No, Dylan... It isn't like that," she said. "Can I please just...?"

"Give me a half-hour to get back to you, and we'll talk," I said. Her joy that I was on the way, came all the way through the phone.

It took less than a half hour. As soon as I pulled in front of the cafe, Sarah came out. She had a large basket with her as if she was expecting to go on a picnic. The six years had been kind to her. Not only were her eyes just as beautiful, her boobs were bigger. Sarah didn't seem like the type to go the augmentation route. And the new sashay in her hips wasn't lost on me either.

As soon as she settled into the thick leather of the seat next to me, she turned and kissed me. My scruples melted with the touch of her lips. I started the car and drove to where she directed me. We ended up on the dry side of a small secluded cove. There were a couple of small boats tied up there, but no people.

We got out of the car and sat upon the bank. She took my hand and turned to face me. She quickly leaned over and kissed me.

"I needed that for strength," she said. And then she launched into her story.

"Dylan, let me start from the beginning," she said. "Jimmy was my first boyfriend after high school. I was a year younger than you guys. You were both nineteen; I was eighteen. Jimmy had that gift of gab, and he was my first. He and I had done it a few times and then something special happened.

I met you. Dylan, Jimmy was my first boyfriend after high school, but you were my first and so far only love. Jimmy fucked me, but what you and I did was something completely different. You were gentle, and you touched me as if I was something very special to you. I craved that.

I could have left Jimmy or broke off with him weeks before I did. I'd heard from friends that he was cheating on me and experimenting. He was screwing some of the sleaziest girls on campus. Some of them were strippers working their way through school, like all the clichés. Others were hooking their way through school, and some of them were just plain skanks.

The only reason I didn't break up with him was because I couldn't lose you. Jimmy thought that he had you to keep me busy. The reality was that I put up with him, so I could spend time with you. When we studied, I found ways to touch you. I always stayed much longer than I needed to be there. I rubbed myself against you hoping that we would..." Her sigh brought back memories.

"I was sure that there was simply no way for me to get you away from him," she continued. "But I knew... I knew that we both felt the same way about each other. So when my uncle called and told me that my mom had been in a car wreck, and my dad needed me, I left. I was sure that I could find you, or you would find me. It just took you too long.

And during the meantime, life happened. My mom never recovered, and dad passed a short time afterwards. Meanwhile my uncle who was even older than my dad, needed help running the cafe. A couple of years ago, he had a heart attack and now the place and its cast of weird characters are all mine.

Rokaj, my "HUSBAND," is another story. He's the best cook I have ever met. He was originally from Pacmanistan and over here on a work visa. When his visa expired before he could become a citizen I had a problem. So I married him, so he could stay in the country. Our original agreement was that after he got his actual citizenship or stayed long enough for us to get a divorce, we would go our separate ways. That date came and went, and we just never went through the process of getting a divorce. He did get his citizenship though, and I guess having him around is good because he chases the guys off. You should know that our marriage is in name only. We have "NEVER," slept together."

From the look in her eyes when she told me that, I was sure that she was telling the truth.

She settled into my arms then, giving out a sigh of contentment. It touched me that my acceptance meant so much to her. The problem was that I wasn't nearly so sure she'd still feel that way once I told her my own tale of woe.

"So Dylan, my husband is no problem for us," she said. "What about YOURS? Is Jimmy still lurking about somewhere?"

I told her my version of what had happened since we last saw each other. I held nothing back. I told her how long it had taken me to get over her. I told her about my meeting Gretchen and eventual marriage and the way it ended. I told her about me beating the hell out of Jimmy, which she loved hearing. Finally, I told her about moving across the country and my large blended family and how thankful I was for their support.

And when I was done, she had nothing but a huge smile on her face.

"Why are you smiling?" I asked her.

"What else should I be doing?" she asked. "Your ass is finally mine. Nothing will ever change that again. No demented lunatic brothers, no ex wives with bad-boy complexes and low self-esteem. We are finally together."

And we were, from that moment on; C4 wouldn't have been powerful enough to blow us apart. We took our time getting back into the bedroom, but it was worth waiting for. Our pace seemed quick to everyone around us but glacial to us. For instance, it was nearly three months from the first time I walked into the cafe, before Sarah moved into OUR house with me. However, we'd both been ready for it the first night.

My relationship with Sarah was on a completely different level than things with Greta had ever been. My marriage to Gretchen had been based on the fact that I loved her with all of my heart and soul, and she let me. Sarah matched every bit of my love for her and returned it to me in kind.

A big event in our relationship was actually begun by Jimmy's dad, the second of my three father figures. On one of our holidays, with the family all together, I was so busy working on other people's cars that he asked Sarah why she let me do it.

She told him that I loved it so much that she supported it whole heartedly. He told her that I ought to do it for a living then. A week later, I had a business plan and had begun looking for locations. I did my research to determine how much startup capital I'd need. It was a few weeks later with the family all together yet again that Sarah told Jimmy's dad that I was acting on his idea. She was beaming with pride as she told them what I'd done so far.

After dinner, Jimmy's dad pulled me into my office for a talk. Before he got started, my dad had come into the room too, with Bernie, Gretchen's dad right behind him. Between the money the three of them offered me and my own savings and a loan from my retirement plan; I had the money I needed for startup costs without going through a bank.

Although none of them wanted it, I wanted to pay them interest on the money, they loaned me. That way, I would have my dream, and I wouldn't jeopardize their retirement getting it. We were all pretty happy about the arrangement.

Life moved on and by the end of our first year together, I was simply unable to imagine life without Sarah in it. My business was doing well, and I had given up my job at the plant. I had three specialists working with me and was even considering doing emergency repairs on big rigs since I was getting so many of Sarah's trucker friends as customers.

The best part for me though was that I had been paying off my dads at a rapid rate. I had decided that their investment and faith in me should have been worth more than just repayment and a bit of interest. I decided to give each of them ten percent of the business. That way, they would always have money coming in. They deserved it.

The day I decided to do it, Bernie had been flying in for the weekend. He got there a bit later than I had expected but only by an hour or so. Bernie always rented a car and drove himself out to the house.

I was in the office when Sarah came to get me. "Honey, Bernie is here. I think you should come downstairs," she said.

I hopped down the stairs and saw Bernie. He was as pale as a sheet.

"Hey Bernie, I was just writing you a check, and I have some papers for you to sign," I said.

"Dylan..." His voice broke.

"Bernie, what's wrong?" I asked. "Is Patty okay?"

"She's fine and so is our Abby and Patrick," he said. Patrick was Abby's fiancé and the love of her life.

"I have to fly right back home on the next plane," he said. "I know you don't want to hear about her, but it's Gretchen. Jimmy beat the shit out of her... Again. And this time he put her in the hospital!"

* * * * * *

Gretchen

It felt like one of those bathroom tissue commercials. You know the ones where everything is full of clouds and other cushiony things. There are angels and other floaty things around too. And everyone says things like bathroom tissue instead of calling it toilet paper like real people do. I think everything is floaty, and cushy, and nice to keep people from remembering that all of that wonderful soft cushy stuff is used to wipe your ass after you...

Suddenly, the clouds began to part and my mouth tasted like the stuff you use bathroom tissue to get rid of. My head was throbbing, and my entire face felt like one huge bruise.

My mouth didn't want to respond to my mental commands. There seemed to be some sort of lag between when I thought about speaking and when the words actually came out.

"Where's my baby," I croaked. Apparently, my ears still worked. Because her words came out perfectly clear.

"Here she is," said my mother. I could feel the undertone of concern in her voice. I tried to open my eyes and only one of them budged. The other seemed to be glued down. I saw as if through a haze the concern on my mother's face. And as if I was telepathic or had picked up some sort of psychic abilities from being beaten like a fucking drum, I knew what that look on her face meant.

Of course, her new Sarah Palin glasses and her stylish up do told me that I was right. My mother had either been about to go and visit my husband, yes I still had the right to call him that, or had just returned from doing so.

"This would never have happened to you if you were still with Dylan," I knew for a fact that was her exact thought at that moment. Didn't she think I knew that?

Didn't she think I had cursed myself for a fool every day since he walked out on me? Why did everyone seem to need to point out the obvious as if I was too stupid to know it?

Fuck! I went to college. I'm not stupid. I just have a blind spot when it comes to a certain type of man. But I am cured. I swear to God. Oh Lordy come help me, I will never look at another man who has so much as an attitude problem ever again.

What I wish the most is if instead of thinking I'm stupid, or that I don't see the forest for the trees; people would just realize that we are all different. And that at any time any person regardless of their level of intelligence can fall prey to their own personal weakness.

Fat girls can't resist cake. Rich women can't resist ugly, expensive shoes, and I'll bet that Dylan has a garage full of Mustangs right now. I fell for Jimmy's bullshit again, and it cost me. I am the one paying for my mistake, so I wish that all the well-meaning people in my family would stop pointing it out to me.

This past year has been awful. It's been nothing but hell. Jimmy and I locked in mutual hatred for each other, both hoping that the one person who can set us both free of our relative purgatories would return.

He blames me. I blame him, and we hate each other more each day. The two things we argue over the most are of course Dylan and our daughter.

Over the time that we've been together... You can't actually call us together. He doesn't even try to have sex with me when he's drunk. And I would bite his dick off if he ever stuck it anywhere near me. Anyway over the past year, the facts have become confused for poor Jimmy. The asshole actually blames me for betraying Dylan. He now claims that it was I who seduced him into what we did. He places all of the blame for what happened on me. It was me alone who betrayed Dylan.

"You tricked me," he'd screamed at me. "I should just leave and go find Dylan."

"I wish you would," I replied, "Especially the leaving part."

"As soon as you get your parents to tell us where he is, I will," he said.

"You could ask your own," I said. "But then you haven't spoken to them in years. Why is that? Are you afraid to see the disappointment on their faces?"

"Maybe I should ask that hot little sister of yours," he smirked. "Now that is a real woman. She has that hot little ass. Of course, I might have to fuck her to get me to tell me where he is. It's funny isn't it? Your own sister going and staying in Dylan's house all the time. I'll bet the two of them do a lot of fucking. Hey, your sister will be the third chick that both of us have had." He laughed. Then I laughed even louder.

He looked at me wondering what I was laughing about.

"You're almost right," I laughed. "My sister does go there a lot. And she did try to throw herself at Dylan. She told me all about it. He flat out turned her down. She thinks he had two reasons for it. Number one he loves her like she's his own little sister, and he didn't want to ruin things between them with a mistake like that. And number two, she's sure he still loves me." I laughed again.