Happy Hollowdays Pt. 03

Hey folks thanks again. The story will go four parts total. I know it's long, if that really bothers you please keep walking. I am not here to offend you. Though I promise the next story will be far shorter. For both of you that are still here, I cant thank you enough.

Oh yes no sex here, we have to torture the MC you know. But stay tuned for the finale Part Four. There's some there.

Well, there go the last two readers...

I am crunched for time this week and unable to write the next so I have been driving this forward to avoid a lag between chapters. The pitfall is i have not been responsive to comments. I apologize. I truly appreciate the comments! I am not ignoring them and hope to be able answer some of those after part four is published.

Happy Hollowdays

Part Three

TIM

There I was, alone on Christmas Eve. It had been a week since my escort plan had failed so spectacularly. I even thought about getting a cat. I wasn't really a cat guy, but I was lonely enough to convert. I was thwarted there too, as the pound wouldn't let people adopt pets the week before Christmas. I understood perfectly; it might make someone happy. The real reason was too many people dumped the poor animals the week after. I thought about the poor unfortunates who would love to have the companion. I wondered how many committed suicide because the pound was their last refuge? I wondered if I could get a grant to study it. I could study both sides of the street so to speak, as I fit my own definition of a dumped stray.

That notion reminded me that I thought too much, I thought things through too much. I was in terrible need of a hobby. I wasn't built to be this alone.

Even so, I hadn't called the escort service back. I wasn't sure I was up to it again. This being a humanitarian gig had serious drawbacks. My face hurt the morning after I brokered Jill and Gary's reconciliation, and the back of my head from hitting the semi frozen lawn. It amused me to think of the Humanitarian of the Year award winner being called to the stage only to be slugged in the face instead of given a trophy. Yep, waaaay too much time on my hands.

I got a message and call from my folks and sister earlier. That contact made my day. They had figured out that I wasn't with either my parent's or my sister when speaking to each other earlier; they were beside themselves that I was alone. The three of them independently had not figured that out. We seem to accomplish so much more in healthy groups. Why did I want to think of that? I genuinely wanted them to be happy; and they knew who being with made them happy. Plus, my parent's arctic cruise had been planned a year in advance knowing next year both their children would probably get married. I didn't save them much with the destruction of my planned marriage as they didn't have to plan or pay for that one anyway. Brenda really hadn't left me any upside. I wasn't going to explain my lack of company to my parents; they couldn't reschedule in these post covid times anyway.

The calls were great. It was wonderful hearing their voices. It was not wonderful hearing their guilt about having a great time while I was alone. I told them about my card from Andy and Brenda. I told my parents, "You are the second couple that feels that way, happy but guilty for feeling that way. Stop it. We don't want to be listed with that other couple!" I laughed. They liked that. I told them to have a great time. I saved the day for them. I was still alone.

My sister couldn't cancel her trip because it was the world's worst secret her boyfriend was about to propose. Her future mother-in-law even wanted to do preparatory wedding things with her proto daughter-in-law.

I saw no reason for my misery to take that joy away from all those good people. They hadn't done anything wrong. That the people I loved were vital and doing well buoyed me. That was the truth.

But those calls had come much earlier in the day. Now the day had grown long, threatening to become evening, and the impending later night was beginning to haunt me. I began to hope for an accidental visit from the ghost of Christmas Past. Hell, I would positively party with the ghost of Christmas Future and even hold his hideous boney hand!

Then about six o'clock I got a phone call. It scared the hell out of me, cutting through that all too silent night. It would have scared the hell out of a cat too, if I had one. It was from my former presumptive, then permanently postponed, booty call, Jill.

"Tim! Merry Christmas! Gary and I are doing great, thank you. You saved our lives. We are fitting back together almost like we used to be. We are both so thankful to have another chance. You did that!" Jill paused I could hear her taking a big breath, "I know you are alone, Tim, but you delivered a Christmas miracle and I know you will see the immense value in that, even if you didn't get one yourself. You are amazingly considerate that way! I wanted to tell you that."

Jill's words were full of the jubilant emotions she spoke of. It did gladden me. Then she started talking in ways I didn't understand. I didn't understand many of her sentence fragments. Actually, I wasn't even sure of the subject!

"Look Tim, to use your phrase, "I need you to be a hero again". S-She's in bad shape. She needs to be redeemed."

Before I could ask who we were talking about Jill launched into a frenetic explanation, "It's guilt. But also, she feels dirty. She was engaged. She just wanted extra time before the marriage. She let him have her as a compromise. He didn't like the compromise. He didn't like what he saw as doubt. So, he took her compromise, and her, and then a competitor of hers just to hurt her. She knows he didn't really love her now, which might have been part of her original reticence. There are a lot of switched positions, but does her situation sound familiar?"

Shit, Jill had just diagnosed Brenda's and my engagement and eventual falling apart. It was great to have the answer, but it was also a sword through my heart. Brenda gave us a long engagement as she must have realized she didn't love me, at least not wholly, heck not even enough. Having her eyes opened she found she felt more for Andy. She did try to push him away. I'm the one who forced them together. Once alone together they knew they felt the same way about each other and shazam, my world was gone with the wind. Jill's quick synopsis sounded like a familiar song with the verses put together in a different order.

Jill was speaking again, "She's off men, and joined the same site I joined to punish herself -- just like I did. There are some really interesting stories at that agency, many are single women who see it as a great way to get paid while they concentrate on other things like education. How they'll explain being an escort to a future husband I don't know. But they seem emotionally healthy and confident. Unfortunately, there are a number of forlorn wives trying to help a family through tough times, praying their husbands don't find out. Those poor women will stop as soon as they can. And then there are some broken souls like me, and like the girl I'm sending you."

I heard myself speak, "Sending me? Jill what's happening? What are you doing?" There was a tinge of panic in my voice.

Jill's tenor changed, it seemed of paramount import that I understand her, "She's working, Tim; you are her first job. That must sound familiar too. But she won't be working because you are in on this, and you can help her, except she doesn't know it. Tim, she doesn't know you aren't a client. She doesn't know I've sent her for you to save. She will want to get to it, because of her self-loathing and depression. But Tim she's scared to death and doesn't really want to do it. She finds the whole thing repugnant."

"Thanks for the confidence builder, Jill."

"Not you Tim, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Both of us were right there in that same horrible place emotionally. I'm presuming you still are. Tim, she doesn't need the money, that's not a factor. So, when she discovers she doesn't have to "work" tonight she will be relieved. But Tim, I need you to keep her with you. Engage her."

The word sent a shock thorough my system. Brenda, my fiancé, had left scars.

"She's determined to do herself wrong, Tim. She will probably find another client if she leaves you. She wants to hurt herself that way. She feels dirty and wants to give herself to the dirtiness, as she thinks the dirt is all that wants to cling to her now. Tim, you can make her clean. Listen to me Tim, even if you do dirty things with her, you can make her clean, do you understand? Keep her with you. Have her call me if you need to. And, uh, she's been briefed on you." Jill's voice was trailing away.

"Briefed?"

"Ask her later. She will be honest with you, she's an honest girl, a good girl, just broken. Aren't we all."

It was only after Jill hung up that I realized she hadn't told me the poor girl's name. I sighed; I was going to set some sort of a record for hiring escorts I didn't have sex with. Damn the hollowdays!

* * * * * *

"She" showed up an hour and a half later. She was very pretty or could be, she had plastered a smile on her face while her eyes were ready to scream. Jill was right, she had bravado, not confidence. I told her to come in, offered her coffee, wine, or a drink. When she looked at me funny. I told her she could make it herself if she pleased, and she was free to use one of the unopened bottles if she wanted. Then I gently reminded her that the agency she worked for had all my information including my picture and address. If I wanted to do something nefarious there had to be a hundred other ways than going through a service, precluding I would ever get away with it. My smile disarmed her, she finally got a little less stiff and even gave a self-effacing grin at her foolishness.

I tried a different tack. "I want you to be comfortable here, with me. You are of great value. You may be my salvation, at least through these lonely hollowdays. I want you to do anything that gives you more comfort or puts you at ease. You can be quite honest with me; in fact, I would prefer it."

"H-Hollowdays?" She looked at me questioning my pronunciation. Then it dawned on her. "Oh, I like that! Yeah, they really can be, can't they?" She smiled a little more broadly and to my delight a bit more naturally.

I waded into conversation again, "Look, I would love to spend some time with you. I'm not a creep, I'm just alone. I can explain it all to you."

She looked back at me putting some pieces together. She weas clearly remembering some of the "secret" briefing she had gotten on me from Jill.

While she was warming up to me, she was still far from forthcoming. I offered smiling, "I have some hot chocolate -- in packets, Swiss Miss. How about a hot chocolate?"

The poor girl was still lost at sea, though she began to believe I meant her no harm. She nodded, adding in a sheepish voice, "What did you call me?"

I had to think before I understood, "No," I laughed, "I wasn't calling you that, Swiss Miss is the brand of hot chocolate I have." I had to laugh again. She even cracked a smile though her embarrassment.

She managed, "That... would be nice." The way she nodded indicated she truly meant it.

Who wouldn't smile at Swiss Miss? Good old hot chocolate, it could put the thaw to the cold awkwardness. "Well, take off your coat. The closet is by the door or drop it wherever you wish."

She looked around giving me another unintentional smile; I liked that kind the best. As she was still not volunteering, I took a chance, feeling ridiculous for not wanting to rush what was supposed to be a sex for money relationship. "I, ah, I don't want to pry. I know many of the ladies in your profession have families."

She blushed at the profession remark. "Jill sent me your profile, I see you listed yourself as an "anal specialist". I'm wondering if all the woman angry at themselves choose that as their specialty?"

At first her mouth fell open. She recovered nicely forcing a smile while twisted one hand in the other. "Well yes, but I'm not that experienced." She suddenly looked worried and rushed to say more, "I don't want to cheat you! I can do a good job for you."

Holy cow, it was déjà vu.

She looked down and then to the side, then down again. I was pretty sure that looking anywhere but at me was the basic game plan of her eyeball ping pong. Finally, she croaked, "I-I have never actually done that."

She was honest. I almost snickered at the thought of her being honest about committing fraud as an embarrassing infraction while working a job that was still illegal. This was fraud of a sort, I was sure some folks picked the professionals based on specialty, probably most on looks. Can you imagine that: shallowness in the pay for sex field? I could hardly be angry as I hadn't actually hired her or paid for her. Then again, I had paid for a woman, Jill, as an anal specialist in fact, and then took her home to her husband before receiving the goods. Caveat emptor, right? Jill had set up this rendezvous. So, payment wise this was a little bit of positive karma.

On the other hand, my admittedly tepid desire to experience anal sex -- on the physical side as penetrator had gone unfulfilled, whereas my unwanted cup of experiencing it as the "emotional penetratee" runneth over. My desire to do that just once, looked like it was going to have to wait again. Merry Christmas. I thought of my poor wayward booty call, Jill's, words about me after her husband slugged me, "Don't worry, he's used to that." I couldn't help but smile as I unconsciously rubbed my nose.

As I realized I had not responded for a while, I still felt the entire world was doing the whole anal invader thing to me.

"So, I figured." I flashed the best set of knowing eyes a twenty-three-year-old could muster. I threw a smile in for atmosphere. I noted she was much closer to my own age than Jill. Very close I estimated.

She laughed adding, "You know what? I felt like the world was doing that to me anyway, so I thought "why not make it official". I might have some say that way."

"Wow, I could have said that" I laughed.

Her eyes lit up at our suddenly very natural conversation, "I know. Your friend Jill, ah, our friend Jill, um, spoke to me about you. She mentioned you made that sort of remark. She said that when she was in a very stressful situation you made her smile."

"Have you been stressed today?" I asked as the water for the hot chocolate began to boil.

She looked up sheepishly and nodded.

"Well then, I'm two for two!"

She laughed more heartily. I handed her the box of Swiss Miss for her to choose her own hermetically sealed packet of chocolate dust. She smiled again, this time warmly. When I made a spoof of opening my packet like it was a condom foil, waggling my eyebrows a la Groucho Marx, she laughed aloud.

I was enjoying her laugh as I remembered this girl had been briefed on me. She knew the truth about me, so I thought it best to run right at the truth. I looked at the gal now sitting on my sofa happily cradling her mug of hot chocolate.

"You might as well know something about me Swiss Miss," I said hoping to put her more at ease by pointing out that I was sharing where she had not, "I like to help people and I like to make them smile. But to tell you the truth... I'm a loser."

That wiped the smile off her face. She seemed gladdened when I did not seem to be torn up about my self-diagnosis. Yet she was sad that I was presenting myself that way as a simple matter of fact.

"I never realized it until this year, but it fits. My fiancé left me for my best friend. I haven't seen either in five months. I haven't been kissed since then either. I haven't been on a date. Unless you want to count the other lady from your agency I got lonely enough to hire a little while back. Please refer to my admission that I have not been kissed in months to see how that night went." I smiled, "I bring that up because I want you to know I don't pressure people to do what they don't want. Brenda didn't want to marry me, hell she didn't want to love me. That's hard not to take personally, especially as she told me she did, and was living with me.

"On the other hand, our friend Jill's decision not to choose me was easier to stomach. I think by the time the evening was halfway over she would have been happy to sleep with me... if she weren't still in love with her ex-husband. The other problem Jill had was she really didn't want to be an escort. So, there was no way we were going to fulfill our planned, er, contractual arrangement."

I peered into her eyes to see if she understood the "out" I was giving her.

"J-Jill spoke very highly of you. S-She said you took her back to her husband. That seems very thoughtful of you."

"Especially as I was still paying to be with her," I laughed though stopped quickly noting my remark almost locked up my visitor.

"Hey, I had already told her that I was just happy to have company. That if she sat so we touched, not necessarily even in any sort of sexual way, hell, if we held hands, it would make a huge difference to me."

My guest was now swimming in a storm of emotions, "D-Did she do that?" she looked hopeful with a big leading smile.

My face went blank as I remembered. I laughed out loud, making the Swiss Miss smile more, "No. No she didn't. Not romantically or sexually anyway, there were some moments of support, basic human kindness that neither of us had seen from anyone in months though. We held hands that way, except I'm pretty sure I was holding her hand to support her though. But romantically or sexually, no." I laughed all the harder.

However, that admission wiped the smile off her face. "She didn't even give you a kiss for bringing her back to her husband?" The poor girl was truly dismayed. Especially when I laughed even harder.

"No, the most significant physical touch I got that night was her ex-husband slugging me in the face!"

"What?!" She was truly dismayed by the injustice of the world. She almost spilled her cocoa.

"Jill showed me a picture of her husband, Gary, his phone number was printed across the bottom. I called him out of the blue. I told him I had met his wife and she was in dire straits, and I had to deliver her home. I told him she was about to do something that was self-destructive and would surely destroy her if she kept with it."

The Swiss Miss was very quiet now. Her face showed that the story was meaningful to her though she didn't understand how it fit into Gary clobbering me.

"I delivered her home. Gary was very happy to see her after a long taste of life without her. He asked Jill how she knew me. She explained she was so low had signed up as an escort."

Swiss Miss's eyes dropped, then she pulled them back up for me to continue.

With a bit of a wry smile I finished, "Jill explained that I was her first customer. Gary slugged me before Jill could tell him more."

She put her hands over her mouth.

Only after I was on the ground was Jill able to tell Gary that before anything had happened between us. She explained the two of us got to talking and she showed me a picture of him on her phone. I ducked out of the room straight away to call her husband. Then I delivered her to Gary only to have him, er, lay me out. And he really did! I wasn't expecting that at all."

Swiss Miss's face danced with many emotions. I could identify a few. Sympathy for me. Anger at the continued injustice of life, which she felt keenly too. And, just a boggling, that I got handed such a horribly raw deal by my intended. That I got so lonely I hired an escort. Yet instead of wallowing in my own pain, I still thought of the other person enough to create a reconciliation of two star-crossed lovers, only to get cold-cocked for my efforts. What could I say? That was a boggling situation. I thought she had the correct response.