Flight to Sanity

"OH Frank — it's such a relief to see you! You'll have to tell us what happened later, but since you're safe, I'll get out of the way!" she exclaimed, and left.

"Thank god, Frank," Rachel was saying, still grasping him in a tight embrace, "I thought you were dead. I knew that you were on that flight, and you had to be dead. Oh Frank! What would we...what would I do without you?"

"Baby, I'm here, I'm safe. I'm so happy to be here. I need to see the kids, too," Frank whispered.

When Rachel remembered the kids in school, she visibly shuddered.

"Frank, we should go and get the kids, take them out of school! They are probably terrified. They know that you were flying somewhere today, and when they hear about the crash..." she said, she words rushing out.

Frank and Rachel separated and started straightening themselves up to fetch their children from school. Rachel saw herself in a mirror, and started towards the bathroom to regain a semblance of her normal self. But before they had gotten out of the door, Ellen was at the door with the children.

"Frank, Rachel," she called out from the open door, "The school was sending all of the kids home, so I picked up Brent and Sylvia and brought them back too."

Rachel responded, so thankful for her considerate friend and neighbor,

"Ellen, thank you so much. Frank and I were going to go down and bring them home, so you just saved us from having to go out." The relief in her voice was palpable.

"Glad to do it, Rach," called Ellen as she headed back for her minivan, hoping that her three children weren't already fighting, sitting in the car for two minutes, unsupervised.

Brent and Sylvia ran to their father, throwing their arms around his neck, as he grabbed them and lifted them to his chest.

"Daddy, Daddy! What happened? How come everyone is crying and upset at school?" demanded Sylvia. Sylvia was at an age where she noticed her disheveled mother's condition, but wisely chose not to remark on it.

"Yeah," added Brent, "even my teacher was crying. And they told us all to go home in the middle of the day!" Brent, not quite comprehending the scope of what had happened, was actually fairly pleased at being released mid-day.

Frank gathered his family in the living room, and related his first hand account of what had happened, and why it was that he had not been on the flight, and consequently not been killed. By the end of his story, Sylvia was crying, although happy that her father had escaped death's grasp, and even Brent was quiet and serious, his eyes fixed on his father, as he realized that he might not have seen his father again, if he had made the flight.

But Frank warned them, that there might be other children who would not be so fortunate, whose parents might have been on the plane.

"We will pray for everyone who was on the plane," he told them with a great sadness in his voice, "and for their families and loved ones."

Frank then looked at his family, each one individually, and then looking especially at his beloved Rachel, sat back in his chair, and with a serious and focused look said,

"Sylvia, Brent, Rachel; When that aircraft crashed today, without me on it, I was shocked to my soul, to the very essence of my being. I need to tell you all something, especially you, Rachel."

"I have been unfaithful to this family," he flatly stated, a look of pain deeply etched in his face.

Hearing that, Rachel, suddenly feeling a rush of guilt, flinched in her chair, but Frank continued on, without seeming to notice her reaction.

"I have fallen into the trap that so many of us do, of forgetting what is truly important and lesser priorities. I have allowed my job and my professional life steal me away from the real values in my life: my wife and my children.

"I was desperate this morning to be on that airplane, so that I could get more business for my employers. The work that a person does is an important thing: I'm proud of how I make my living, and of what I do. And I'm proud of being able provide our family with the things that we need."

He looked at all of them again, his eyes softening.

"On my way home from the airport, I thought back and remembered, that I was in such a rush to get out, that I didn't stop to kiss any of you; I didn't tell you, Rachel, how much I love and adore you, how I would make any sacrifice to make you happy. That I would defend you all to the death, if need be.

"That is a sign of how much I have allowed myself to drift.

"It occurred to me, that if I had died today, everyone at work would be saddened at the loss of a co-worker and colleague, they would feel sorry that this terrible thing had happened. But tomorrow, they would continue on, they would split my clients among the other salespeople, they would start to look for someone to be moved into my slot, and perhaps would try to bring in another sales rep to keep our group up to full strength.

"But their lives would go on. Nothing wrong with that, it's just the way it is.

"You, on the other hand, would not have your father for the rest of your lives; a step-father perhaps. Rachel, you would not have your husband. I know that you would probably find another husband, you're too attractive to go for long before a line of men would be waiting at the door," Frank said with a little smile. Rachel looked back and shook her head 'no, never my love.'

"But it wouldn't be me. And you are too damned important to me to let that happen.

"I want you all to know, that I am quitting my job, tomorrow or the next day or next week, it doesn't matter, I will find a job that isn't competing with my family for my time, affection, and support.

"You, my family, will be number one in my heart again, the way it should be, from now on. And to tell you the truth, I don't think that I will have a very difficult time finding something here locally to do that won't demand that I give up so much, just for money," Frank concluded.

Sylvia, Brent and Rachel didn't say anything for a long time; they just sat there nodding their heads.

Rachel especially looked inward at her own frailty, and how easily she too had misplaced her values.

Frank was looking at her, and for a moment she was almost afraid that he could hear her thoughts, thoughts on how close she had come, in a different manner, of being unfaithful to her family. Not just Frank, she grasped, but the whole family — including herself.

Reflecting, that if Frank was too focused on his job and work, it was only intended to benefit his family, to make their, her, life easier. Her flirtation with infidelity was narcissistic; it was all about her, her desire for more affection and intimacy. But rather than to confront Frank about the problem, even if it meant demanding his attention, she had almost fallen into the arms of another man.

Rachel stood, and walked over to the chair where Frank was sitting, and sat in his lap, her arms around his neck, and hugged herself to his chest. A horrible tragedy had saved her from making a grave mistake; perhaps only a small, personal tragedy compared with the plane crash, but one that wouldn't happen now.

She and Frank would find each other again.

That night, after the children were in bed, asleep, Frank and Rachel made love. It was a tender, sweet love, that intimate sharing when two become one. It was certainly special; for Frank a celebration of somehow escaping death, through the hand of fate; for Rachel, the renewal of emotional ties that had become frayed, but that she now understood could be strengthened.

Unknown to either Frank or Rachel, in one of those examples of nature's will to survival, that night one of Frank's sperm was in the process of finding Rachel's ovum, and the life from Frank's loins would join the life in Rachel's womb. Like in the Sistine Chapel, where God's pointed finger breathes life into Adam; a new human being was formed who would, in nine months, be joining his siblings, Sylvia and Brent.

His brush with death was also, for Frank, a liberating experience. He found that he was no longer afraid. He could talk to his wife, and tell her of his needs, and he simply wasn't worried anymore about whether she would be angry or offended. There were things that they deserved, and he understood now that every day was precious, not to be wasted.

As they lay there in the afterglow, he propped his head up on his elbow, above his pillow, where he could see Rachel's face.

"Rachel," he said gently, "that was wonderful. I'm not sure when the last time was that we 'made love' like that."

Rachel, in a post-coital languor, smiled at him, without lifting her head from the pillow.

"But I need to talk to you about something," his tone getting her attention.

"Rachel, there are things of a sexual nature that I've wanted to try for a long time, but I've always been afraid to ask. I was afraid to ask because I was worried that you would think that I was some sort of pervert, or something," he said in an earnest tone of voice.

"OK, Frank, tell me what you want to do. You might be surprised; there are things I've wanted to do too, but I didn't want you to think that I was some sort of slut, so I guess I'm in the same boat as you," she answered, in a slightly lighter mood.

"Well, for one, I'd like to have oral sex more often. It has really turned me on when you've sucked on me, before we had sex, but I would like you to do it until I came in your mouth. And I have always wanted to go down on you, and use my mouth and tongue on you, but I would need help from you with that," Frank face blushed in the dark, because was almost ashamed to admit, "I don't know very much about a woman's...I mean, your, anatomy down there, and I've always been scared that I would hurt you because I don't know what to do."

Rachel rolled on her side, so that she could encircle Frank with her arms.

"Oh Frank! I would love to help you have oral sex with me — that's been one of MY fantasies; I have dreamed of seeing your face between my legs pleasuring me with your tongue, while you put your fingers into me, I think that you would really get me off that way," Rachel explained, the picture in her mind rekindling her desires. Unconsciously, Rachel's hands had moved to her breasts, and were playing with her nipples.

Frank noticed, and moved his hand onto her breast and started playing with her now erect nipple. His hand gradually moved down between her legs, and he gently placed his finger into her slit, the tip of his finger circling her vaginal opening while he spoke.

"There's more," Frank added, "I would like to turn you onto your stomach, and..." He hesitated, still a little shy about expressing his long-repressed desires, "and lick and tongue your anus, as well."

Rachel shuddered with pleasure as she listened to him. He was really exciting her, and she was going to be ready for a second round of sex soon, more quickly than she had been for a long time.

"And Rachel, your ass has always turned me on. I would like to try having sex in your anus," Frank stated, knowing that he was treading into unknown territory, as least as far as his wife was concerned.

"Frank," Rachel whispered to his ear, "my body is yours. I might have lost you today; instead, you returned to me, so how can I deny you? I want to explore your desires and make you happy."

Then she continued on,

"Can I tell you a few of MY secret fantasies?" she asked, and Frank silently nodded.

"I would like to dress up in a very sexy manner, sit alone in a bar, until a handsome stranger (meaning you!) comes up and propositions me. I accept, and we go up to his hotel room, where I strip for him and he uses me, like a whore. He says nasty and dirty things to me, and makes me talk dirty back to him, while he uses me," Rachel shyly told him.

"I think that we could arrange that," Frank replied, a smile on his face.

"And there are other fantasies that I've had for years," Rachel explained, "You know your wife actually has a rather vivid and dirty imagination."

"Ummm...me too," Frank growled back at his wife, a new found lust speeding his heartbeat.

"In fact, we may need a few toys to play with — honey, could you get them, I would be too embarrassed. Like, I think that we might need a long, black dildo, and maybe some nipple clamps..." Rachel was stroking Frank's cock as she described a few ideas.

"But Frank! Understand that these are only fantasies for the two of us — I'm not into bringing anyone else into our bed," she warned, slightly worried that Frank might take her imagination too seriously.

"Babe, I understand. It's just you and me, but we can do things together that we had never had the courage to even talk about before, much less do," he stated acknowledging Rachel's concern.

Then there was a pause as the two of them thought about how their relationship might have just changed, permanently, and for the better.

"In fact," he finally continued, "we could start doing a few things tonight."

Frank looked at Rachel with a leer,

"You, slut, why don't you get down and suck my cock. Then I'm going lick your tight little pussy and then fuck your cunt hard until you cum!"

"Yum," Rachel said, as she moved down his body to take Frank's manhood into her mouth.

That night was a renewal in many ways. It went beyond the sex, to a new-found appreciation of each other, and rekindled a mutual desire that had diminished over time.

***

True to his word, the next day, Frank went into his office to quit.

Since everyone had assumed that he had died on the flight, it would be an understatement to say that they were shocked to see him walk through the door.

In the end, though, Frank didn't quit. After upper-management heard Frank's rationale for quitting, they put their heads together and concluded that Frank's expertise was too valuable to lose. They offered him a position in the company that would limit his out-of-town travel, get his hours to a more manageable level, and would actually increase his pay, while still having an upward promotion path.

Frank sincerely thanked them, and then asked for a couple of weeks off to spend with his family and consider their offer. Sensitive to the trauma that he and his family had been through, they happily granted the time, indeed, gave him the time-off without using his personal time.

*** Three days after the crash, Rachel answered the door to find two men in suits standing on the entryway.

"Mrs. Stevens? May we speak to you?" asked the older man, who turned out to be a lawyer representing the airline.

Rachel brought the men into the living room, and sat them down. After establishing that they didn't need anything to drink, Rachel picked up her coffee and sipped at it as she listened to their proposition.

They began their pitch,

"We are trying to make the process of dealing with the terrible crash as smooth and rapid as possible. The airline has substantial insurance that will be offering a generous compensation package to the families of the individuals who tragically perished in this accident.

"But since these things take time, the airline is offering a $50,000 up-front payment to the families, if they will agree NOT to take legal actions against the airline, and will accept as reasonable whatever settlement the judge who will be overseeing this process, determines is appropriate.

"We believe that the families need for money now needs to be addressed, and so we are reaching out with this, we believe, generous and timely proposal," they concluded.

After thinking for several minutes, Rachel looked up at them.

"Let me understand this," Rachel summarized, "By signing this document, I will be paid $50,000 now, and in exchange I will promise not to sue the airline for this accident, and to accept the settlement that is offered by the insurance company, as overseen by a judge. Am I correct?"

"Yes ma'am," came the response.

"But this is not tied to, or dependent on the settlement that will be offered later," she probed.

"That is correct. In essence, the airline promises to pay you $50,000 immediately, and you promise not to sue the airline for this accident, without, however giving up your rights to a potion of the insurance settlement," they agreed.

"And how soon would I receive the money?" she inquired.

"We could have a check delivered to you this afternoon," was their reply

"Fine. I'll sign," came Rachel's answer, much to the delight and surprise of the airline's lawyers.

As they walked down the sidewalk to their car, the older lawyer turned to the younger man,

"That's way you need to get to these people right away, while they're still off balance. She may have just signed away millions of dollars, but her short-term needs seem to be so much more important that the long-term settlement right now. And she should have never accepted without consulting an attorney!" he smirked as he looked at his young assistant, who was nodding his head.

"Make sure that she has the check in hand this afternoon to make the contract binding. We don't want her to have second thoughts before we pay her off," he added.

As the two attorneys were getting into their car in front of the Steven's house, Frank was driving up the street from an early morning round of golf with a couple of friends. He noticed the men, who seemed to be coming from his house, and watched as they drove away.

He pulled into the driveway, and walked into the house.

"Rachel, who were those guys?" he asked.

"Frank, how does a nice, expensive, vacation sound?" was Rachel's cryptic reply.

It was several weeks before anyone at the airline realized that Frank Stevens hadn't been a crash victim, long after the check had been cashed. Their lawyers agreed that it would be a waste of time to try and recover the $50,000 dollars, since both parties had lived up to the agreement.

"She should have told us that her husband was alive!" asserted the younger lawyer, at the meeting of the firm's partners.

"Did you tell her that she might be signing away millions of dollars by agreeing to accept the insurance company's offer?" the senior partner asked him, a slight smile on his face at the younger man's discomfort.

"Of course not!" the younger man replied, rather hot under the collar.

"Res ipsa loquitur, Jim. Anyway, who gives a damn? It's the airlines money, not ours," he added.

***

When Gate Agent Manny LoCisco saw a photo of Frank Stevens, and recognized him as the man who kept trying to talk to him, probably trying to tell him his identity, his stomach turned into a knot. He never told anyone, and as a consequence, he kept his job.

***

Oh yes, what happened to Richard?

Rachel was so involved with Frank again, and thankful for still having her husband and family, that she completely forgot about Richard until she ran across some emails about two-months later.

She looked at them, and deleted them from her computer. She deleted Richard from her email, her cell phone, and, in time, her memory. She never tried to contact him again.

Not hearing from Rachel after two weeks, Richard concentrated on his back-up conquest, a woman named Darla, who he played until, after five months, she dumped him.

He grinned to himself when he got the email, excoriating him for being a hard-hearted prick, unwilling to commit to her. She was going to stay with her husband.

"Oh well," he thought, "as they say: another day, another Darla."

Richard was quite amused by his little bon mot until later that day, when he was visited by Darla's husband and two brothers.

Darla's husband had never been considered the sharpest tool in the shed; a large, usually gentle, but rather slow man, who was rather easily manipulated by his wife. So when Darla confessed her affair to him, asking him to forgive her stupidity and putting the bulk of the blame for the affair on Richard — that Casanova, that Lothario, that serpent in the garden — her husband forgave his pretty wife, but decided that a visit to Richard's condo was in order.