Hard Lessons

Why not? she thought to herself. She didn't know if she'd ever be ready to take Jon back, so why should she sit at home alone every night? After all, there was no telling whom Jon might be spending his evenings with.

Karl was going to pick her in a couple of hours and they were going to go have a drink and maybe do some dancing in Alton, a neighboring small town. Marilyn had insisted that they go someplace where there was little chance of running into either Jon or Carrie.

Marilyn quickly moved through the grocery picking up a few items she needed. She waited in line and paid for her food, all the while wondering what she should wear for her date later. It had been years since she'd been on a first date, and she was shifting back and forth between being nervous and being excited. Occasionally a twinge of guilt tried to assert itself, but Marilyn hastily pushed it away each time.

**********

Jon sat on the sofa at his brother's house, watching a lousy rented video. He was depressed. Another Friday night without Marilyn.

His brother, Alan, had a date, so Jon was alone in the house. He had thought about going down to Garvey's for a beer, but immediately dismissed the idea. He hadn't been back to Garvey's since the bad night with Carrie. He also hadn't touched liquor since.

The movie was so boring, and Jon was half-dozing when the phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered.

A male voice he didn't recognize said, "You're little-miss-perfect girlfriend has a hot date tonight. Too bad it's not with you!"

Jon started to reply when the connection was broken. Who the hell was that? Marilyn wasn't dating anyone yet. Or was she?

Suddenly he was wide awake and he felt frantic at the thought of her going out with someone else. He grabbed the phone and dialled her number. It rang and rang, but she didn't answer.

He considered the possibility of going over there, but decided that would be a waste of time. If she was home, she would have answered the phone. He was resigned to the fact that he'd just have to keep calling until she picked up.

This is torture, he thought.

**********

Marilyn sat across the table from Karl Perry, woozily listening to him talk about some engine that he was rebuilding. Normally, Marilyn loved car talk, but at the moment she was having trouble concentrating on the conversation.

What was in those damn drinks, anyway? They were called Long Island iced teas, and Karl had told her that she'd love them. She had been unconvinced when he'd suggested that she try one, but he had talked her into it.

And he had been right, they tasted great, but they must have been very strong. She'd only had two of them but she was feeling pretty buzzed.

Karl asked her if she would like to dance, and she agreed. They made their way to the postage-stamp sized dance floor and danced a couple of fast songs. Marilyn was giddy, and she whirled and shimmied enthusiastically. She wondered again what was in those drinks when she almost lost her balance a couple of times.

Abruptly, the tempo of the music changed, and she found herself in Karl's muscular arms swaying to a slow dance. He held her closely and was intently gazing into her eyes. Marilyn smiled, enjoying herself.

"You look absolutely fantastic tonight," Karl whispered into her ear.

"Thank you, Karl. I had the most awful time deciding what to wear." She had eventually chosen a red dress that fell a couple of inches above her knees. As usual she had left her tanned legs bare, and she'd finished the outfit with a pair of low-heeled red pumps. Jon had always told her that red was one of her best colors.

"Well, you made a great choice." Karl gently ran his hand over her back, and the sensation made Marilyn shiver. It had been two long months since she'd felt a man's touch, and until that very moment she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed it.

She looked at Karl appraisingly, and she liked what she saw. He was comfortably dressed in a pair of black jeans, and a gray and black short-sleeved polo shirt. His chestnut brown hair was close-cropped and served to accentuate his large brown eyes nicely. He flashed her a charming smile.

As they continue moving to the slow beat, Karl leaned over and gently kissed her lips. Marilyn kissed him back, softly. Marilyn thought kissing him felt good, but strange. It had been years since she'd kissed anyone but Jon.

The song ended, and they went back to their table. Marilyn was surprised to see that a full drink was there waiting for her. She sat down, and instead of sitting across from her, Karl sat down next to her. She began feeling a bit nervous as to what Karl might be expecting from her.

She didn't intend to sleep with him or anyone else just yet. She didn't even know if she and Jon were through, and even if they were she certainly wasn't over him yet.

She sipped her drink. Damn, these things were good. It wasn't long before her third Long Island iced tea was gone. She got up to go to the restroom, and as she stood, she almost fell over. Whoa, she thought, no more of those tonight.

When she returned from the restroom, Karl had apparently ordered her another drink without asking, because a full one was sitting in the place of her empty one.

"Oh, Karl," she said, "I don't think I'm going to be able to drink this. I've had way too much already. She was tongue tied and had trouble even getting the sentence out.

Karl smiled sympathetically. "Of course you don't have to drink it. Let me finish off mine and then we'll hit the road, if you're ready."

"What the hell," Marilyn said, "just one more won't kill me!" They sat and both of them finished off their drinks.

Karl had to help Marilyn out to his car. Her legs just didn't seem to be working right, and her head was spinning out of control. She climbed into the passenger seat, and closed her eyes for a moment to try and stop the spinning.

She felt Karl gently shaking her, and when she opened her eyes she couldn't believe that they were sitting in front of her house. She must have fallen asleep.

"Are you okay?" Karl asked.

"Think so," she replied, although she wasn't sure at all.

"Why don't you let me help you inside? It's my duty to see you home safely, and that includes getting you inside."

"That's sweet," she slurred.

The next thing she knew they were on her front porch, and she didn't remember how they'd gotten there.

"Where are your keys?" Karl asked.

Instead of making the effort to speak, Marilyn merely handed him her purse.

Karl nearly had to carry her inside. He settled her on her sofa, and asked if it would be alright if he used her phone.

"Sure. Phone's in the kitchen," she said before closing her eyes again.

**********

Jon had been trying to call Marilyn every half hour. It was now almost midnight and she hadn't answered yet. He was miserable. He didn't know who had called, but they must have been telling the truth. Marilyn was out on a date.

He was trying to decide what, if anything, he should do next. Then the phone rang again. He snatched it up, and answered, "Hello."

The unidentified voice again. "Marilyn is about to get fucked good and hard. Too bad it's not your cock she'll be riding." Click. He hung up.

Jon quickly punched in Marilyn's number and got a busy signal. A couple of minutes later and the line was still busy. He kept trying, but after about 15 minutes when he was still getting the buzz-buzz-buzz of the busy signal, he decided that he was going over there himself to find out what the hell was going on.

In his truck on the way to Marilyn's, Jon felt worried, scared, and angry all at the same time. He abruptly realized that this must have been just how Marilyn had felt the night she caught him with Carrie. This was awful.

**********

Somebody was stroking her thigh. Marilyn murmured, "Oh, Jon, it's been so long." His hand moved upward, sliding up under the elastic band of her panties, and gently began stroking her clit.

She moaned with pleasure, and struggled to open her eyes. It was Karl who was touching her. He was smiling at her as he fingered her clit. Marilyn briefly thought about stopping him but it felt so damn good, and she responded despite herself. She rocked her hips against his hand, and he leaned forward and kissed her.

In her drunken state, Marilyn's mind kept flashing back to what it was like when she kissed Jon. She opened her mouth, allowing Karl's tongue into her mouth. His tongue was hot and wet, and felt so good mingling with hers.

Her eyes were closed again, and Marilyn let herself go. I want this, she thought. I want it to be Jon, but it's not. I need this.

She heard the sound of a zipper, and Karl took her hand and gently guided it to his crotch. Her fingers closed around his throbbing erection, and she gasped.

Karl broke their kiss, and whispered, "Take your dress off, Marilyn." She obeyed, unable to help herself. She stood and pulled the red dress off over her head.

She swayed on her feet, and Karl stood next to her, steadying her. He pushed her panties down, and when they dropped to he feet she stepped out of them. Karl unhooked her bra and slid it off over her shoulders.

Marilyn was naked now. Her legs, unable to support her, buckled at the knees and she sat back down onto the sofa. She fought to keep her eyes open as Karl stood before her, removing his clothing as well. In no time he was naked too, and he sat down next to her.

He kissed her again, and began caressing her bare breasts. When he reached the sensitive nipples, Marilyn said, "Yes, Jon..uh I mean Karl. That feels good."

Karl slid one hand down her stomach and began touching her clit again. Marilyn could feel that she was wet and ready.

Karl pulled his hands away, and lay back on the sofa, his erection jutting up invitingly. "I know you want me Marilyn. Ride me," he hissed.

Marilyn moved down the sofa and straddled him. She lowered herself onto his cock, slowly. She moaned, loving the full sensation she hadn't felt in so long.

Karl began thrusting upward into her moist cunt. In Marilyn's inebriated condition, she was having difficulty matching his rhythm and she quickly became frustrated.

Karl said, "Just don't move baby, and I'll take care of everything."

Marilyn held still, trying to balance herself, and then abruptly it was over. With a few more strokes, Karl's body went rigid and he grunted, shooting his load. He was done.

Marilyn rolled off of him and stood up, moving to the other end of the couch and then laying down again. Her dark eyes briefly focused on Karl, and she fell asleep disgustedly thinking, "What a loser."

**********

Jon drove slightly past the house, pulling to the curb and shutting his lights off. He climbed out of the truck and looked around before quietly walking up to the house. There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway, and his anxiety level cranked up another notch.

Not knowing exactly what else to do, Jon moved to the living room window and peeked in. His worst fear was confirmed as he saw Marilyn, naked, climbing off of some man who's face he couldn't see.

He backed away, numb. Apparently Marilyn was over him. It was through. He got back in his truck and headed back towards his brother's house.

**********

Marilyn awoke at dawn, naked, on her sofa. Her first thought was, "Oh god, what have I done?"

She remembered little of the night before, but she had a few memories of screwing Karl Perry right here on the couch. She didn't even remember him leaving.

In a cruel flash of insight, she realized that she had done exactly the same thing that Jon had done. She had gotten drunk and fucked someone who meant little to her. She knew that there was only one thing she could do. She had to tell Jon the truth, and beg him for the forgiveness that she'd been unable to give him.

She called Jon's brother's house, and Alan answered instead of Jon. "Alan, may I please speak to Jon?" Marilyn asked.

"Sorry, Marilyn. Jon isn't here right now. He was already gone by the time I got up and I don't know where he is. You want me to give him a message?"

"Yeah, um, just have him give me a call, ok?"

Marilyn hung up with a sigh. She hated to wait even another minute to tell Jon what had happened and that she was so sorry. She went into the bedroom and sat down at her desk, pulling out a tablet. She began a letter to Jon.

**********

Jon had gotten up early that morning, and had packed up his fishing pole and tackle box and had gone fishing. Usually nothing soothed him like spending a few quiet hours on the lake, and today he'd needed soothing more than ever.

He'd driven the thirty miles to his favorite fishing lake and had spent the morning casting and reeling in his line. He'd only caught three fish, and he had released each of them as soon as he'd gotten them unhooked.

By lunch time Jon admitted to himself that he wasn't feeling any better. The day was beautiful, with a soft wind blowing and a cloudless blue sky, but his mood remained dark. How had his life gotten turned into this miserable mess? He finally gave up with an exasperated sigh and packed his stuff. Time to go home and try to deal with this disaster.

When he got back to Alan's at about two o'clock in the afternoon, the mailman was just filling the mailbox as Jon pulled into the driveway. "Hey!" the mailman shouted, "you already have a couple of pieces of mail in your box that I didn't deliver. I thought they were outgoing until I saw that they had your name on them."

Jon walked back down the driveway and took the bundle of mail from the carrier, thanking him. He was immediately curious about the two envelopes that the mailman had mentioned. Both of them were unaddressed, with only his name on the envelopes. Someone must have personally put them in the mailbox.

Still standing next to the box, he tore open the top envelope and pulled out three Polaroid photographs. His mouth dropped open in surprise when he saw the that photos were of Marilyn, apparently taken last night. She was naked, and appeared to be either asleep or passed out on her sofa.

On the bottom of the last photo was a handwritten caption. It read, "Your loving girlfriend. What a joke!"

Jon was almost afraid to open the second envelope. Oh well, he thought, how much worse can it possibly get? Inside the envelope was a single sheet of stationary. He immediately recognized the handwriting as Marilyn's.

The brief letter read: "Jon - I have something that I have to confess to you, and I just couldn't wait until you got home to get this off my chest, so I wrote it down. Last night, I had a date with Karl Perry. I got drunk and ended up having sex with him. I am ashamed, and so, so sorry. I am asking for your forgiveness for what I have done. I realize that is asking a lot considering the way I have been treating you. I understand now how easy it is to make a mistake and how hard it is to forgive. I realize now how much I do love you, and I can only hope that it's not too late for us to work this out. I think we'll regret it forever if we don't give each other a second chance. Love, Marilyn."

Jon was slammed with several conflicting emotions at once. At first, anger and hurt at her confession, followed by a peculiar sympathy for her remorse, then overriding all else was a sense of relieved happiness. She wanted to try again. Maybe somehow, they could just start all over again.

He looked down at the other envelope containing the pictures of Marilyn, and he realized that before he could put all this behind him, he had to have a little talk with Karl Perry first. He had to find out why Karl had left the pictures for him, and if he had been the person who'd called him the night before. And if he didn't like Karl's answers, he was going to have to kick his ass.

It took about an hour of looking before he was able to track Karl down. He finally caught him down at Garvey's. When Karl saw him, he looked surprised.

"Care to tell me why you left these for me?" Jon said, holding up the envelope with the pictures.

"Oh wow. I never thought she would have told you about last night. Listen, Jon, the whole thing was Carrie's idea."

"Carrie Jenkins? You mean she set this up?" Jon asked incredulously.

"Yeah, man, she told me she wanted to get back at you guys. Said Marilyn beat her up for no reason and that you let her do it. I didn't really care about that. Carrie promised me sex anytime I wanted if I tried to get Marilyn into bed."

"That's what she told you? None of that is true, Karl. Marilyn jumped on Carrie after she caught me and Carrie together. Carrie was just pissed because she got her butt kicked and because I left her at the hotel without a ride. Exactly what happened last night, anyway?"

Karl said, "I should have known Carrie was full of shit. She's famous for it. It was her idea for me to get Marilyn drunk and see if I could get her into bed. I talked her into drinking Long Island iced teas...and she got totally trashed. I gotta admit, I feel kind of bad for taking advantage of her. She was out of her head, man. Carrie sprang the idea of pictures on me at the last minute and I went along. She told me Marilyn would never tell you about me, so you'd never find out I took the pictures."

"So were you the one who called me last night too?" Jon asked.

"No, I never called you. Carrie wanted me to call her when I got back to Marilyn's, so I did. That was it."

Jon believed him. Carrie must have gotten someone else to make the calls. "Listen, Karl, I want to make this whole situation go away. If you swear never to mention it again, then I'll forget all about it. And if I were you, I'd stay away from Carrie Jenkins. She' nothing but bad news. Don't learn the hard way like I did."

"I hear that. To tell you the truth, I was getting kind of tired of her anyway. She looks good, but she ain't all that good in the sack, you know? And you obviously can't believe a word she says. I'm through with her."

Jon said, "Do me a favor. Tell Carrie that her little revenge plot turned out to be the best thing that could happen. Marilyn and I are getting back together, and it's all thanks to her."

"That'll sure frost her ass. I'll go one better, though. I'll do her one more time before I tell her," Karl laughed.

**********

It was late in the evening and Marilyn was beside herself. Jon hadn't called her back. She was sure he'd decided to call it quits.

She went to bed early, tossing and turning. It took a long time for her to finally fall asleep. She had bad dreams, ugly bits and pieces of the night before with Karl, and one particularly disturbing nightmare where she was lost in a crowd and was calling for Jon.

At first, she thought the sound of the car horn was just another part of a dream. When it persisted, she slowly came out of sleep and realized that there really was a car horn blaring outside. She got out of bed and looked out the window, but she couldn't see who was honking. Whoever it was had parked close to the house, and there was a big evergreen blocking the view from her bedroom window.

She put on her robe and started downstairs when the honking stopped. She opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Marilyn couldn't believe her eyes when she saw what was sitting in her driveway.

It was her Mustang! And it looked just like it had never been wrecked! She ran out to it, not caring that she was still barefoot.

She was in shock. The car looked perfect, right down to the custom midnight blue paint job. Who had done this? She went to the driver's side door and peered inside.

Sitting on the dashbord was an envelope with her name on it and a small box. She opened the envelope with shaking fingers. Inside was a card that simply read, "Before we started a new life together, I wanted you to have this piece of your old one. Love, Jon."