Freshman Flirt Pt. 02: Seeking Happiness

"No! Not us now, Barry. Us back then, when we were an us, when we were together. I...I just need to talk to you about it, okay?"

Reluctantly, I entered her number in my cell, and then sent my contact info to her.

"Thanks for being here for me. You don't know how much it means."

I held my arm around her shoulders until she finally stopped crying.

***

Several weeks passed, a month, then two. I started thinking that she'd decided not to call, but one evening, I received a text message.

Barry, hi, it's Evie. Can we talk?

I sent back:

Sure. Call me.

The phone rang seconds later. "Hi, Evie. How've things been going?"

"Tough. We're trying to clear Dad's house for sale and get the legal side resolved. I've been going back and forth, up here a few days at a time when I can get off work. This is the last time, though, so I'm here until I'm done. I'm hoping I can go home to my hubby and kids for good by Sunday."

"I wish you well and hope that works out for you."

"Thanks. And thanks for talking to me, Barry."

"You're welcome, Evie, but no games, okay?"

"I know, and I promise not." There was silence for a few seconds as if she was steeling herself for whatever was to come. She finally spoke, "This has been bothering me for years but I couldn't...I couldn't face you about it. I felt so guilty."

"Evie, no. It's water under the bridge and I don't care. I'd really rather not know. Let's just call it good and move on, okay?"

"No, Barry, it's not what you think."

"Okay, then spill and let's stop beating around the bush."

"Yeah, okay, okay. Uhm, You remember Cathy Resnick?"

Talk about left field! Now I was even more confused. "Uh, sure. Is she still mad cause I beat her for valedictorian? It's not like it was close; I had almost a whole percentage point on her."

Evie snickered, the first happy sound she'd made. Maybe we'd get through this. She replied, "No, silly. Or maybe so? I don't know, but Cathy was in college with you."

"Yeah."

That Cathy and I were never exactly friends flashed through my mind. I'd heard she married shortly after college, I hadn't seen her since, and I hadn't missed her for a second.

"Cathy saw you at school with some girl. She told me back then but I can't remember her name now. Anyway, she said you two were having an affair and that you'd go up to her room and have sex several times a week when you were calling and writing me and telling me how much you loved me."

I practically saw red. "No, Evie! That's absolutely not true!"

"Barry, I know, that's what I'm trying to say. Cathy told me several years later that she'd lied about it, trying to hurt you, but she'd felt really guilty afterwards. She said she heard you really were trying to help that girl, that you guys even left the door open, and that she was sorry she hurt you...and me."

My head was practically spinning. Cathy had hated me so much--over our grades? Lost scholarship opportunities? That I never asked her out? Or what?--that she was willing to ruin my life and maybe Evie's? Maybe she really had felt guilty; maybe that's why she never spoke to me about anything significant after that.

"I felt so sick when she told me and I wanted to beat the fucking shit of her--pardon my French--but she really was sorry--she'd found religion, I think, when she was getting ready to move to New York to get married, and she was trying to apologize to people she'd hurt over the years. As angry as I was--oh, and believe me, I was madder than I'd ever been in my life--my hands were tied, then, and I couldn't do anything. I realized how badly I'd messed things up between us then, but by then, Kevin and I were in love and were about to get engaged. I felt so bad I couldn't try to rebuild the bridge between us so I just tried to put it out of my mind. It festered for too long, Barry, but when Mama died a few years ago, I knew I had to do it at the next opportunity or it would eat at me forever. I tried to call your mom a few times but chickened out every time until Daddy passed.

"Barry, I want you to know how sorry I am. I can't ever fix it, but I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me for not believing you and that you'll apologize to your friend for me for all the hate I sent her way over the years."

I sat there in stunned silence, unable to respond, unable to give her the forgiveness she so desperately wanted. A second later, I hung up and turned off my phone when she tried calling back.

***

One can only leave a cell phone off for so long before one needs to use it, so I finally turned it back on and promptly blocked Evie's number. That, I realized, was what I should have done in the first place.

A month passed as I thought of what she said, but I was no closer to reaching a resolution. Instead, I'd been trying to put it out of my mind when Liz called.

"Barry, checking in on you, old friend. Nobody's heard from you in a while. What's happening?"

"Liz, did Evie get your number somehow?"

"Evie? You've spoken with Evie! Spill! No, wait! I'm going to hook Rosalie in so you won't have to tell us twice. She was the one who called me asking if I'd heard from you, not from your Evie."

"Thanks, dear, but the bitch isn't 'my' Evie," I grumbled, but Liz already had me on hold as she conferenced in Rosalie, who had her phone on speakerphone with Sonny. Their eldest was now about the same age we'd been when we all met.

"Yes, I saw Evie at her father's funeral a couple of months ago, and then we spoke last month. That's when I finally found out why she broke up with me all those years ago."

I told them the tale and there was silence on the other end when I finished.

"Wow," said Sonny. "If I could reach through the phone and choke the hell out of her for you, I'd do it."

"Sonny!" said Rosalie, causing him to laugh. "So, taking Sonny's solution, or rather, non-solution, off the table, Barry, have you forgiven her?"

"Forgive her? Hell no!"

"Then you're going to do the same stupid thing she did?" asked Liz. "Let it sit there and fester, eating you up inside, rather than doing something about it and moving on?"

"Liz, Evie ruined my life--well, she and that other bitch, Cathy Resnick."

"But you said Evie's sorry and she said that Cathy was sorry, and I can personally vouch for the fact that your life wasn't exactly ruined. Yes, you've had some difficult times, but have had some really fun ones, too. Hawaii? The cruise? That hotel room in Chicago that time--"

"Liz! Hush! Stop it!"

Rosalie was laughing out loud and I heard Sonny in the background asking what he'd missed. "I'll tell you later," she whispered to him, just barely loud enough for me to hear it on the speaker phone. To me she said, "Barry, you and Liz had some good times over the years, but she's been married for five years now and has a little one of her own, so you need to wash away all the regrets and move on. Forgive Evie, forgive the evil bitch--you don't need to be friends with either one, if you don't want to--and seek happiness on your own terms and start living your life for the future. Please, you're our friend and we want you to be happy."

"I can't forgive her, them, either one," I said. "Way too much water under that bridge."

"Bullshit!" replied Liz. "I know you, Barry Pierce, a lot better than most. You can if you just will. Do it, Barry, for your sake if not for them. Like Rosalie said, you have to find your own happiness. Just do it!"

Still not agreeing, we talked for a few more minutes, catching up on our lives and those of their kids before finally signing off until next time.

***

Several weeks later, after some soul searching and some prayer, I called Evie. It was hard, but I accepted her apology and forgave her for not believing me, for not letting me have a chance to respond, and, probably most important of all, for taking almost half of our lifetime to come clean about it. I was convinced she was truly sorry, so I felt better afterward. At least a little anyway. She also gave me Cathy Resnick Feinberg's address and phone number in New York; I wrote them down, but felt it would be a cold day in hell before I would use either of them.

Just before we hung up, Evie said, "And please, convey my apology to your friend the next time you speak with her. I didn't harm her directly, but I sure shoveled enough hatred that she didn't deserve in her direction over the years before I learned the truth."

"Thanks, Evie. I'll...I'll do that."

***

In the days that followed, I thought about what Evie had said about apologizing to Mandy. I joined one of the social media sites about that time and looked for her, but had no luck. I tried the professional network, too, but again found nothing. Google and other search engines turned up nothing, so I finally gave up.

Or so I thought.

A few days later, I was back at it again, trying to find her, but, once again, found nothing. Unable to get it out of my mind, I made a phone call to an attorney friend a few days later.

"Hi, Jeff, it's Barry Pierce. How are you today?"

"Hey, Barry! Been a while. I'm doing well, and you?"

"Good, thanks." We made small talk about his family for a bit before turning to the main reason for the call. "Say, I'm trying to find an old friend and was wondering if you might have any suggestions for a good private detective who might be able to help with that?"

"How long's it been since you've seen her? I'm assuming it is a her, correct?"

"Yeah, you're right. As for time, it's been...oh...almost twenty-four years."

"Jesus H. Christ, man! You've got it bad if you're that hard up!"

"No, it's not like that," I laughed. "Yeah, like I said, she was an old friend, never more. And really, I don't know if we might still be friends today or not, but I ran into someone recently who gave me a message for her and set me to wondering where she might be."

"Well, if you think it would still be worth looking her up after all this time, I know a guy who can probably handle it. Brock's helped me find people on a number of cases, and is pretty good with a telephoto lens if you ever need one, too."

"Thanks, Jeff, that sounds like the person I need, though no lens in this case. Just e-mail his contact info to me and I'll take it from there. I owe you one."

"Let me know if you still think that after he finds her."

***

The days of Jim Rockford charging two hundred dollars a day plus expenses--and never getting paid for most of it--were long gone. Brock Tidwell charged $500 minimum in advance, plus $125 per hour for over 4 hours. He estimated it would take two to eight hours, but couldn't guarantee he'd find her.

"What I can guarantee is that if I haven't found her in eight hours, the lady doesn't want to be found."

"That's fine. Eight hours max without talking to me first," I told him. Jeff's e-mail said the guy had been honest in their dealings over the years, and that he didn't charge hours not actually spent.

Brock asked for all of the information I could give him about Mandy. I e-mailed it to him that evening, and then waited.

The return e-mail came a few days later. Brock had found her and put together a file in 6.25 hours. She'd changed her name, as she'd said, but had changed it to Amanda instead of Mandy, and had married. Brock's file included her particulars, including her address and cell number.

I thanked him, transferred the balance of the money to his account, and then sat looking at the info.

***

I mailed the letter, overnight delivery, the next day. After paying nearly $800 to find her, paying about $30 more to make sure it was delivered quickly didn't seem like such a big deal.

I programmed Mandy's number in my phone so I'd see it if she called, but the next evening passed and nothing happened despite tracking showing that it was delivered. Another day brought no news, and then day followed day.

"She's married and doesn't want to talk to me," I told Luke, my dog as we walked around our block. Luke seemed perfectly fine with that, insisting that we keep going another block.

I gave Sonny, Rosalie, and Liz an update on Saturday afternoon. "She's married and just not interested in reconnecting. My letter was delivered last Saturday and it's a week later without a response."

Liz was quiet. "Barry, receiving a letter from someone from that long ago is a big--no, make that huge--shock. Think about how long you thought about the situation with Evie before you called her back again. A week or so isn't nearly long enough to give up hope in that case."

"I'm not sure what I'm hoping for, Liz. I know I want to speak with her, but she's married, so I'm not even sure if it's worth the time and effort. I have a feeling I've pissed away over $800 for nothing."

Sonny, who worked for his state's department of human services, laughed. "At least you're making the big bucks and can afford to do it."

***

I went out with a waitress named Jynx a couple hours after the call with my friends. We'd met at the restaurant a few weeks earlier and had seemed to hit it off okay on our first date. She was in her early to mid 30s and was cute, with dark hair with a couple of tats including a rather sexy lower back tattoo of a butterfly with intricately laced vines on either side. While I wasn't normally into tats, I admired what I could see of it and asked her out for drinks, with the thought of possibly examining it further.

We had a nice evening on that first date, but our conversation had been rather limited, primarily because Jynx was more into kissing than talking. After a long dry spell, I was good with that, and with the blow job she gave me when I took her home. What she lacked in conversational skills were more than made up for with her other oral skills.

Still, when the Mandy thing came up, I wasn't going to call her again, but she called me shortly after I hung up from the call with my friends.

"Bare! It's Jynx! Hey, I got called in early today so I'm gettin' off at 6. Wanna get together for drinks and stuff? Warehouse Row, maybe?"

Bored and extremely frustrated at my failed effort, I said, "Sounds fun. Pick you up at 7?"

"Yay! I'll be ready!"

When I knocked on her door, she opened it wearing sexy bluejeans, a button down shirt over a white tank top, and cowgirl boots. Her hair, a dark brown with a touch of red, was wavy as if recently curled, and her makeup was fairly bright and a bit thick as usual..

"Hi, Jynx, you're looking lovely this evening."

"Thank you! You look scrumptious, too."

Scrumptious? It looked to be quite the interesting evening.

We hit two bars in Warehouse Row over the next two hours. I had a beer at the first and a cola at the second, while Jynx was enjoying herself with a beer and a mixed drink at each.

"Bare, let's go dancing!" She looked to be in that zone where she'd had enough to enjoy herself but not enough to worry as long as she didn't have car keys. Since I was driving, that wasn't a problem. Then she named where she wanted to go.

"Jynx, that's a hike, there and back, and the dancing's probably not even going just yet. How about it if we hang around here for another half hour or so, then I'll drive us over."

She was swaying to the canned music playing over the noise of the bar as she thought about it, but she finally shook her head and leaned toward me. I thought she was going to whisper something to me, but she turned and planted her lips on mine. They were so soft and enticing, I went with it for a few seconds until I was afraid it might become too much of a public display and pulled away.

"Bare, tell you what, let's just go back to your place and fuck!"

She said it out loud so I could hear, but with the song ending, several other people heard it, too. They all turned and smiled, with one couple clapping and one guy even trying to give me a high five. My face burning from embarrassment, I led Jynx away.

I was going to take her home to her apartment, but she was grinning at me, biting her lower lip as she ran her hand up and down my thigh. At some point, the bottom buttons on her shirt came undone, and she was pulling her tank top down a little more, showing about all the cleavage she possessed.

"Will we be there soon?" she asked, two fingers circling inside her shirt over left nipple.

"Jynx, I'm not sure about this. I don't want to do something you'll regret tomorrow."

"Barry Pierce, I'm thirty-five years old and know what I want. The only thing I'll regret is if you don't get me there soon and get started. I almost didn't let you out of my apartment earlier, and my panties have been soaked all night. Now step on it, mister!"

For emphasis, she took her hand out of the tank top, unbuttoned and unzipped her low-cut pants, and dipped a finger inside.

"Wow," I said, trying to see while trying to keep my eyes on the light. It changed then and I had to watch as we merged on the highway.

"Mmmmm," she said as we crossed the bridge over the river. She held up her middle finger, showing me in the dim light of the car that it was indeed wet before running her tongue around it and sucking it into her mouth. Despite the fact that I couldn't give it my undivided attention as it deserved, it was such a hot display, I gave in, saying "What the fuck," before heading for my home rather than her place.

***

"I love your house!"

Jynx took a grand tour of my house, all four bedrooms and all three and a half baths, mostly by herself while I let Luke out to do his business and opened a bottle of wine, before herding me into my bedroom. She kicked off her boots and then struggled out of her tight jeans, a sensual display if there was one. I'd known all evening those low-cut jeans were tight, but I didn't realize they were practically painted on. When she gave that final kick and the jeans went flying, she grinned as she fell back on my bed wearing only her black thong and the white tank top. The bra I thought I'd seen earlier was either gone or a figment of my imagination, with her big circles shining right through the white fabric.

It was the truth when I breathed, "Jynx, you're gorgeous, a work of art."

She was smiling as she pulled me down on the bed with her and started helping me out of my clothes. When I was down to my boxer briefs, I rolled over, taking her with me as I pinned her hands above her head and buried my face between her breasts. She was rubbing herself against my knee, so I pushed it forward to give her more to work with as I pulled one breast from the top and nursed on the hard nipple as I gave gentle squeezes.

It wasn't enough, though, so moments later, I pulled the tank top over her head, sending it flying in the general direction of her pants, before seizing both breasts and pushing them together for some delicious suckling.

"Bare, that feels great, but I...I need you to eat me. I want you to lick my pussy till I fuckin' scream. Now! Please?"

Her panties, as thin and narrow as they were, were indeed sopping as she'd said, so I pushed the narrow gusset to the side and buried my tongue within her, sampling her juices. I rubbed her clit with my nose while I probed her depths.

"Oh my God!" she cried, causing me to refocus all my attention on her nub. It was a generous size, probably doubly so since it was quite swollen following her long evening of self-proclaimed horniness. Starting slow, I picked up the pace as she directed me with her extensive and quite loud instructions. "Lick that clit! Licking that fucking clit! Faster! Faster!"

She came quickly then, crying out, and pulled me up to rest between her boobs while she recovered from the rush. It wasn't long before she asked, "Need me to blow you, or are you ready to fuck?"

"Well, if given the choice," I said, reaching for the condom, "fucking sounds like fun."