High Velocity PSA Pt. 02

Mike hesitated, uncertain. He walked over to the couch where Barbara had her hands covering her eyes, her head down. "Barbara, what do you want me to do?"

Tina touched Mike's shoulder. "You're a nice guy, Mike. Affectionate, thoughtful, and pretty good looking. I could fall for you if the circumstances were different. Why did you and Barbara come here tonight?"

"She was devastated when you attacked her in the restaurant. She didn't understand how anyone could know. When she found the naked photo in her wedding picture frame she panicked. She thought you had to be connected with this place, so we left work early to find out."

"What's the problem? She has you, and I bet you're better in bed than an old prostate cancer survivor."

"The problem is she wants him."

Barbara lifted her head. "Mike, wanting Ethan is not a 'problem' to me. Wanting him is my life. Please..."

This was getting too bizarre. Barbara was pleading her love for me to the man she deliberately betrayed me with. Tina, whose life had been screwed up by her mother's betrayal, wanted me to make love to my lying, stripper slut wife. "Why are you doing this, Tina?"

"My father was alone for twenty years after my mother left. We had each other, but he was lonely. It's not good for a man to be alone, even if his woman is imperfect." She pointed at Barbara. "Very imperfect."

Mike lifted Barbara's hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "Take your husband back, Barbara. You need each other. I'll wait in the club. Ethan, I'm sorry. It was my fault." He walked out.

Tina went to the desk, pulled out a tube of lubricant and tossed it to Barbara. "Get undressed. You have to be wet for this to work." She lit a couple of scented candles, dimmed the lights, and motioned Barbara and me to the bed.

It was double the ecstasy this time. Was that because it was two women instead of one? I don't know; I soon only felt one. Maybe it was the sensation of being inside a woman, being inside my woman. I held on to her hips as she rose up and down over my groin, her tears wetting my chest. After I don't know how long, I wrapped my arms around her neck and pulled her down to me. My face was damp also, but that was from my own tears. I rolled us onto our sides, putting my tongue between her lips.

She pulled her head back and smiled at me, that smile that I loved. I scratched her back, from her neck to her buttocks. She was practically purring.

The door opened a crack. Tina peeked, then walked in followed by Mike. Barbara hastily pulled a sheet over us, her face turning red.

"I don't want you to have to pay for another two hours in Guy's office. Mike's a little tipsy, so I'll drive him home now. Can you take care of Barbara?"

I looked into my wife's eyes. "Want to come over to my place, so we can get to know each other?" There was that smile again. "We're good," I told Tina. She took Mike's arm and they left.

Barbara looked puzzled as we strolled through the parking area. "I was frightened when I thought I saw your Subaru here." She looked around. "Where is your car?"

I clicked the remote, and the lights flashed. "Here." I opened the door for her. She glanced around, eyebrows drawn together. She opened her mouth as if to say something, and then closed it.

"You like?"

"It's... it's different. What did you do with the Subaru?"

"I gave it to Tina." Barbara flinched when I started the motor. It was louder than any other car we've owned.

"That's a generous gift."

"How does it compare to the gift of bringing us together tonight?"

"She deserves the sun, the moon and all the stars for that." She touched my arm. "Ethan, will you forgive me?"

"Forgiveness is irrelevant, Barbara. I had told you to have sex with whomever you wanted. My anger at the time I said it was also irrelevant. I share the blame with you, and maybe with Mike. All I can do is move past it. What you did with Guy was a long time ago. There's no explanation that can account for it, that can account for your lies. Maybe I shouldn't have joked that you should accept his job offer. But again, all I can do is move past it if I want to spend the rest of my life with you." I pressed the garage door remote and pulled inside.

"Don't ever leave me, Ethan."

"I'm going to leave you soon. It's not up to me." I shut the engine, closed the garage door, and unbuckled my seat belt.

"No, don't leave me. I'll make you happy, you won't regret it."

I kissed her cheek. "I know that•. But it really isn't up to me."

She noticed the tears rolling down my cheek. Her hand flew to her mouth as she understood what I meant.

"We have seen the best of our time: machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our graves."

"More King Lear?"

I nodded.

February 11

Smithson was beside himself. Circle One conformed to all zoning bylaws. It even conformed to the Mayor's wishes that were not enshrined in laws or regulations. The project would meet LEED Silver standards for sustainability, which should have won the hearts of all the municipal bureaucrats and politicians. It didn't, so I went to Smithson's office to talk about it. I had a plan.

"The new Director of Urban Planning has been at the job for about six months. Do you know anything about him?"

Smithson shook his head.

"His name is Nassir Vamoda. His salary is about eighty thousand dollars a year. He and his stay-at-home wife both drive fairly new BMWs. They dress well, they live well. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Put it simply for me."

I walked around the desk, standing over Smithson. I spoke softly. "He wants the wheel to be greased. He wants to be paid off. This is a big project, and he's expecting a score. Your choice is either interminable delays, going to the police, or giving him a brown paper bag. I'd much rather go to the police, but Circle One will get caught up in the legal proceedings, and the project will grind to a sickening stop. You and Edgerton will lose everything you've put into it."

"How can we do it? What if we get caught paying him off? I don't have a bagman to handle things like this."

"Do you remember back in September you asked me about a budget item of forty thousand dollars for miscellaneous promotion? I anticipated this trouble."

"Did you plan a bagman for us?"

I walked over to the window, gazing at the magnificent vista. Smithson's office was fifteen floors up and had an unobstructed view towards the lake. My plan could be risky for someone who had something to lose, but I didn't fit in that category. Only Barbara and the people at the hospital knew that.

I turned back to Smithson. "The shit won't hit the fan on this for maybe a year or so, when some auditor might notice something unusual. It would be too late then to stop the project. I don't think I'll be living in this fair state by then, so it won't hurt me. If you make it worthwhile, I'll do the dirty work."

"What do you want?"

"My participation in the project is currently set at three percent, to be vested upon completion, with no liability to the entity holding my share. I want five percent, vested upon receiving the initial permit from the city, again, with no liability or guarantees to anyone. My work is complete with that permit."

"You're the consultant. Is it worth it for me?"

"Absolutely."

"I'll have the lawyers draw up the papers."

March 27

Circle One received its permit from the city today. Barbatina Ltd., my single-purpose corporation was now the proud owner of five percent of the region's premier real estate development project. Barbara and Tina were each the proud owners of fifty percent of Barbatina. We went to Guy's to celebrate. I explained to Tina that I couldn't have alcohol because of my treatments. She cried. It was the second time she was losing someone to prostate cancer.

June 15

Tina's father was dead, and her mother long gone. She may have had some other relatives, but didn't know or care who they were. Barbara and I had the honor of giving her away as she married Mike. There was a bit of difficulty getting my wheelchair up the church steps, but the bouncer from Guy's managed it without dropping me. When Mike had said he was going to propose to Tina, I asked how he could afford to raise a family working as an orderly. He told me he was going to quit that job to go back to his career as an enterprise risk-analyst actuary. They made very good money. Mike had taken a couple of years off because he wanted to work with people, rather than numbers. Together with the Circle One income, they would be quite comfortable.

I couldn't drive anymore, so I gave them my Mustang as a wedding gift. I explained to Barbara that it wouldn't be appropriate for a widow to be driving such a car. She wanted to sell it but didn't argue.

September 20

I'm having a hard time getting up to pee. Barbara wanted to put in a catheter, but because of the prostate surgery, that had to be done by a urologist. We settled on diapers for now. Her friend Mike comes over every few days to help me bathe.

October 17

Mike says I'm friends with his wife Tina. He said Tina was pregnant, and if it was a boy, they would name him "Ethan." Mike's over every day to keep me clean and prevent bed sores. It really hurts to shift my limbs. Barbara said Doctor Capra suggested moving me to the palliative care ward at the hospital. I asked her what that meant, and she started to cry. I did my best to comfort her.

November 30

Beeep. Someone is holding my hand. I think it's Barbie, a stripper I got lucky with. My eyes are gone, so I don't know for sure. She doesn't speak clearly, she mumbles, and I can't make out a word she's saying. Beeep. I'm back in my Orange Fury Mustang. I got smart this time, and disconnected the collision avoidance system, the anti-lock brakes, and whatever other stuff they put into it that wouldn't let me go where I want. Beeep. All those modifications seem to have screwed up the satellite radio. I can't get my oldies station anymore. I can't Beeep get any good music. All I get is a damned Beeep every few seconds, and I can't turn it off. Well, I'm coming to my hairpin turn soon, and I'll be able to get rid of the noise there. I love Beeep these narrow mountain roads.

My hand is wet. What the heck is that from? This isn't a convertible; the roof shouldn't be leaking. It's not even raining. Is someone crying? Beeep. Why?

Ah, here's the short tunnel. I'm getting close to reaching the climax. Beeep. I'm going to have my release. The signs say twenty miles an hour but I'm doing two hundred. This baby really holds the road, even as the back wheels skitter around the curve. Beeep. I've got enough momentum to go through the accursed railing that stopped me the last time. It's coming up.

I'm at the top of the roller coaster. Hey, great, the railing is gone. I jam the wheel to the right, put the petal to the metal, and take to the air. The stupid beeping noise is gone, it's now more the sound of a steady, fading monotone. I've got what I need. Love you Barbara, love...