Days Forgotten but Not Lost Ch. 04

"Yes, dear. It's happened to others. And that wasn't all. I said he used to work at my school. He had to leave. There were some drug issues and he tried to hurt someone."

"I can't... I can't even picture it," I mumbled, stunned. "He seems so... kind."

"Well, you're a big girl, and it's your call," she said. "But as your friend, I'd say you should stay as far away from him as you can."

"Of course," I said, shaking my head clear.

"But listen to me," she said, with a pause that demanded my attention until I met her earnest stare. "This is important. You must not confront him. Don't tell him you know all this. It will only make him angry and he'll lash out at you. You have to just drop him. Don't take his calls, act like you've lost interest and that it's no big deal. You can do that, right?"

"Yeah... yeah., I can do that," I mumbled, looking out the window at the bags of mulch and soil he had carried in for me that morning.

Vicky looked at me for a moment, then smiled. "You're lucky, you know," she said. "If I hadn't seen you today, you might not have found out until it was too late."

"Where would I be without you, Vicky?" I said, forcing a smile and taking her hand.

"That's what friends are for!" she chirped, standing up. Then, noticing the backyard for the first time, she said, "Oh! When did that happen?"

"Scott... " I began, then cringed. "He thought I could use a hobby. And... I really like it."

Vicky frowned, "You see, babe? He's in your head. I mean, really? He's choosing your hobbies for you? And gardening?" She said the last word with a hint of disdain. "You need to consider what I said earlier about getting away, moving somewhere else and starting over. Now would be a good time to make a change. It's too messy for you here."

"Yeah... messy," I said, my mind wandering. I had hoped Vicky would at least appreciate some of the beauty of the garden itself, despite its connection to Scott. Instead, she walked right on past and headed back towards the door.

"Well, I gotta go. Cheer practice this afternoon! Call me if you need anything, OK?" And without waiting for a response, she was out the door.

*******

I spent the rest of the afternoon working in the garden. It was a warm, sunny day in April and I was enjoying being outside. My mind was divided: I tried to focus entirely on the plantings, but I soon realized that didn't give me enough to think about. I tried to force memories to come back, but that never worked. Inevitably, I thought about Scott and how foolish and violated I felt. He was, it turned out, too good to be true.

My mind dwelt on that thought for a few minutes, and before I knew it, I had angrily carved a trench the entire length of my garden plot. Maybe that anger could be harnessed and put to good use. I planted a row of basil, put down a layer of mulch, watered everything, then went inside to clean up. After a long shower and a couple hours with Ginny Bowers over dinner, I picked up the phone.

Dialing Scott's number, I silently pleaded, Please don't answer... Please don't answer... Please don't answer. When the mechanical sound of his voicemail picked up, I exhaled loudly.

"Hey... uh... Scott. It's Amelia. I'm going to have to cancel our plans for tomorrow. I guess things are moving too fast. Maybe I need some time to think. Don't feel like you need to wait for me or anything, OK? Thanks for... things. Please don't call. Bye."

So... it wasn't as final as I wanted it to be, but Vicky had me scared about confronting him and getting him agitated. He did know where I lived, after all. I still couldn't picture him ever hurting me, but I guess that's the way every woman initially feels about the men who abuse them.

I was craving something. It was like the food earlier that day, something I hadn't realized I'd been missing until I tried it. But this was more. I had been feeling it off and on for the past year and a half, especially when I felt the most stressed or lonely. That craving was what drove me so often to the bar in search of company. Going to the bar never satisfied it, but the exercise distracted me until it went away.

The craving was as strong as ever, but I resolved to stay home. I dug through my cabinets until I found a bottle of Kahlua. Mixing it with some milk and chocolate, I drank a whole glass in one gulp, then mixed another. This wasn't what I had been craving, but it would do for now.

*******

Scott did call - the next day. I didn't answer. I listened to him leave a simple message, apologizing for calling and offering to listen if I needed to talk, no strings attached. It seemed perfect, but I couldn't help but hear every word through the filter of Vicky's warnings. I deleted the message, vainly wishing that it could be just as simple to delete a person from one's life, too. The funny thing was, nearly everyone from my past had been deleted from my life. I didn't think it much of a blessing. Perhaps I would have been glad to be rid of some of them. But not all.

*******

Weeks passed. I didn't hear from Scott again, except for a wordless message on my machine a week after I broke it off. Vicky stopped by at one point to make sure I was, in her words, "staying strong."

My garden grew, and even though it had a painful association, it became something I could enjoy on its own merits and not just because of Scott. I began planning some indoor planters and even explored ways to make use of my vertical space. I didn't want to stop growing things.

And all the time, I was resisting the urge to go to the bar.

Nearly a month after Vicky told me the truth about Scott, I ran out of reasons not to go. I had finished my last Ginny Bowers book, which seemed to be the last novel she had written. It was dated almost three years earlier, one year before her gardening book. It was uncharacteristically sad and, I noticed, it lacked the usual dedication at the beginning: "To R.S.M., my inspiration." Having run out of books and ending on a depressing note, I resolved to return to the habits that had kept me reasonably - albeit moderately - satisfied in the previous year.

Darla seemed surprised to see me, but she didn't say much. It was a busy night and her attentions were elsewhere. Zeke raised a mug in greeting and I smiled. Julia sat near me and said kindly, "I thought maybe you'd found your prince. We haven't seen you in a while."

I smiled wryly and said, "No. I was starting to think I had, but after I kissed him, I found out he really was a frog."

"We've all been there," Julia replied, more to herself than to me. We sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the after-work crowd start to roll in. People looked happy. People looked complete. People looked like they were doing exactly what they wanted to be doing. I didn't even notice that Julia had left the bar area until I saw her laughing at a table of suits. One guy was venturing to put his arm on the back of her chair. He probably didn't know how little resistance she was going to give.

I felt no initiative that night. I wasn't going to walk up to any tables. I wasn't going to change seats to be near anyone. In fact, I was starting to feel the emptiness of this whole scene. No one was really happy here, were they? I could fake a smile, too. You had to smile, because no one wanted to be near someone who's sad. So we all smile, and we push our bodies close together and hope that the other person's happiness rubs off on us. But you're both just pretending and you both walk away feeling just as empty as you did when you showed up - maybe emptier. It was time for me to leave.

"Uh... Hey. Amelia?" A soft, hesitant voice behind me startled me out of my reflection. I swiveled my head a little and saw him. Ben. I turned my body to face him and smiled. It was a little forced, but I was at least partly glad to see him. "Hi, Ben. How are you?"

"Wow, I didn't expect to see you here," he said, looking a little uncomfortable. "I mean, I hoped I would, but... it's been a while. And I didn't know if you would... you know, remember me?"

"It's not like that, Ben. I just can't remember stuff from before."

"I know, but still. I'm not exactly memorable. And I feel bad about... upsetting you last time. I hope you can forgive me."

"It's fine, Ben. No big deal."

"The thing is... I'd like to see you again."

"You're seeing me right now, aren't you?" I teased him. The thing about Ben was that he was timid and easy to get flustered. It made me feel powerful by comparison. Scott had made me feel... different.

"Yes," he said with a little laugh. "I guess I am. But I mean... like, could I take you out some time? Get to know you a little better?"

I looked around the room. "Did you just get here?" I asked him.

"No, I got here on Wednesday," he said.

"No, I mean tonight. Did you just get here?"

"Oh! Sorry. A few minutes ago, yeah," he answered.

"Let's head out now, then. Let's go for a walk and maybe find a place to sit."

Ben's eyes lit up at that suggestion. I handed Darla some cash on my way out, and Ben scurried ahead of me to open the door. I breathed in deep as we walked out, enjoying the relatively fresh scent of the night air.

"Which way?" he asked as we stood on the sidewalk, facing the street.

"I think there's a small park down this way," I said, pointing to the left.

I started walking and Ben fell into step next to me. We made banal observations about the sights we passed. That part of the city was calm but still occupied at night, so there was a gentle hum of noise mixed with the patches of light. The park was small and dark, and at night it wasn't very inviting. But there was a bench right along the sidewalk, near a lamppost, and we sat there. It was more than a little awkward. Neither of us seemed sure how to relate to the other: we had already had sex, so was it OK for him to put his arm around me or to put his hand on my leg? What would we do with our hands otherwise? If we had at least brought bread to feed the birds, it would have been more tolerable.

We shifted around in different ways, ending up side-by-side, me with my legs crossed and my hands on one knee, Ben with his legs spread and his hands folded on his lap.

"So... how have you been?" he asked.

"OK, I guess," I answered. "I started gardening, which has been fun."

"Oh. That's nice. Have you ever had a garden before?"

"I don't know."

"You... oh. Right. Sorry. Um... what are you growing?"

"Herbs and flowers, mostly."

"Must be pretty."

"Not yet, but it will be eventually. It takes time."

"Oh. Right."

And on it went. For thirty painful minutes we forced conversation. Compared to the last time Ben and I had talked, I felt much more capable of talking and relating. And now that I felt that way, I realized how... boring... he was. I was sure he'd make a wonderfully compliant and faithful husband and father someday. He would fit into some zealous woman's plan for a stable home and family, and he would do and be whatever she told him to do and be. But I couldn't handle it.

"Let's walk some more," I said standing up.

"Alright," he answered, waiting to see which direction I chose. I headed back the way we came. When we got back to the bar, I paused. I had made my decision. Ben was boring, but he was safe. There wasn't a future with him, but I didn't need a future. I just needed a night.

"Ben, I don't see us spending any time together after tonight. It's nothing personal, but we're just not a good match. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I get that," he said. He seemed sad but unsurprised.

"But if you don't have other plans for the next few hours, would you mind coming back to my place?"

"Your place?"

"Yes, like last time. Only minus the coffee and dessert. I'm all out."

"Oh! Uh... of course! That would be great. I'd love that," he said eagerly.

"Of course you would," I smiled. "Oh, but Ben... no spending the night this time, OK?"

He sighed. "Yeah, that's fine."

*******

Ben lay next to me, well on his way to falling asleep. He deserved it, too. I had been so distracted and confused that it had taken me a long time to cum. Ben had held off heroically. I had told him not to bother, but had he insisted. We took breaks. He used his fingers. He used his tongue. We switched positions.

Finally, when we were spooning and Ben was slowly pressing into me from behind, I was able to close my eyes and relax. His arm wrapped around me, gently massaging my breasts as he breathed steadily next to my ear. My hand moved down between my legs, firmly rubbing my clit in time with his thrusts. I imagined someone else behind me, strong arms that would protect me. An image came to mind, but my recent memory filled it in with Scott's face. I was too close to care. I started whimpering and Ben sped up. I knew he was close - he had to be.

I pushed back against him, wanting to be filled, wanting to feel and be felt, wanting to hear him enjoy me as I enjoyed him. Flashes of... something... Of memories? Fantasies? Scenes like I'd read about, but not quite. Him on top of me, smiling down... My soul mate, my hero. Waves... the ocean... a beach?

I squeezed the rigid presence inside me, not wanting to let him go. We were finally together. The joy of it, the sense of completion, his strength, inside me, his arms holding me...

I gasped. My hand froze and my whole body convulsed. "Ru!" I cried out. When my knees pulled up to my chest, I almost lost contact with Ben's cock. He scooted forward and pushed deep. Taking my own cries as his cue, Ben drove into me a few more times and then released. His hands pulled my hips hard, forcing me back against him. I felt his pulsing competing against the clenching and releasing of my walls around him. Ben groaned and then whispered my name.

My orgasm stretched out so that Ben was on his back breathing deep by the time I was beginning to calm down. His eyes were closed and I could tell he would fall asleep if I let him. Hell, I could probably fall asleep, too. Except that now I had a lot to think about. So much had flashed through my mind, but how could I even tell fantasy from memory? Was 'Ru' a real person, or was he a character I had connected with in a story? I looked at Ben. Ru... Ben... Reuben? It was just a coincidence, I was sure. But the way the name came to mind so naturally...

I tried to concentrate, but the harder I focused, the more elusive everything became. Names and images, memories and fantasies, everything swirled together in one amorphous fog.

Ben was asleep. If I woke him now and had him leave, that meant I would have to get up, and then I'd stay awake chasing these questions around my head. And so I scooted to the edge of the bed, pulled a sheet up to my neck, and closed my eyes.

*******