Life's Eternal Struggle Ch. 02

"I love you Megan!" I declared several times.

"I love you too." She stated in a dreamy voice.

Then I was enveloped in that all encompassing world of feeling and joy that was Megan. We rolled around on the blanket locked in a tight embrace; kissing with abandon.

However, I was no longer the willing pupil but an equal. Maybe the separation and loss of the last two and a half years was necessary as a type of maturing process.

With my heart thumping wildly in my chest, I realized I had tears in my eyes. When Megan saw my reaction, tears ran in tiny streams down her face. It was as though something precious had been lost but found and reclaimed.

A torrid love affair developed that lasted until...

I stood on Megan's porch and gazed at her with love. Her belongings were packed in suitcases awaiting her departure for UCLA.

"I'll write; I promise!" she vowed with emotion.

"I love you" She said with true feeling and I mouthed the same words in reply.

Davis kept looking at my sad face as we drove west on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

"What the fuck is wrong with you man?" he asked with more anger than normal.

In fact, Davis was by far the most mellow person that I knew. My mood must have really gotten to him to elicit that strong a reaction.

"I'm afraid I'll get one those "Dear John" letters." I said in a melancholy way.

"Fuck em all! Love em and leave em!" he yelled out loud.

I burst out laughing as Davis' comments lifted my mood considerably. He rolled down the windows and together we broadcasted the same sentiment into the night air.

My first week at PSU was barely over when I got my first letter from Megan and letters followed on a weekly basis. My heart would beat thunderously when I got one and read the contents.

Megan usually described her classes and athletic meets. But, they always ended the same with the words "I love you" and many X's and O's.

My relationship with Dana cooled considerably and like most women, she was intuitively and innately aware of the other woman. Our lovemaking lacked the spark that typified my visit in august and eventually, I refused to have sex with her at all.

The tearful break up was difficult because I had loving feelings for her. But, by graduation, I saw her with a studly looking guy on her arm.

When I saw Megan over winter break, we took up where we left off in September. She literally tore my clothes off the first night and jumped my bones like a jungle cat.

After we both graduated in May, I took Megan to Elmwood Park for a picnic. As she leisurely ate an oversized cookie, I fumbled in my pocket for a small velvet box.

I sat up on my haunches and gazed at her with love but nervousness. Megan was regarding me with suspicion.

"Megan, ah, I love you." I blurted out.

"Yes, I know" she answered with narrowed eyes.

"I was wondering if you...ah, would you..." I stammered foolishly.

"Spit it out already!" she implored.

"Will you marry me?" I gushed like a love sick schoolboy.

I opened the box and showed her the ring that I bought with the last remnants of savings I had from working summer jobs.

Megan's eyes were awash with tears and she looked stunned.

"I know it's not much..." before I finished, she grabbed me and held me tight to her body.

"Yes, yes I will." She whispered in my ear; her voice choked with teary emotion.

Megan and I married the following year. The day of the wedding, Davis gave me some last minute advice.

"It's not too late man; we can be in Canada in about eight hours." He stated with seriousness.

"No way! She's the best thing that ever happened to me." I said with love and emotion.

Davis shook his head sadly.

"Dum, dum, dum, another one bites the dust." He sang off key.

As husband and wife we had a stable marriage but as with any long term relationship, there were bumps and potholes along the way.

However, our love for one another never wavered and it sustained us thru the trials and tribulations. We shared a rich and satisfying sex life that ebbed and flowed. But, the desire for each other never left us.

Our daughter Katherine or Kit was born and although we desired more children, miscarriages took an emotional toll on us.

In a kind of irony, my first professional job was with UCLA in administration. Megan had excelled in sports there and was somewhat of legend. It made the transition to life in California that much easier.

But, tragedy has a way of intruding in peoples lives. Megan had just celebrated her forty eighth birthday when we were invited to attend a informal swim party at her boss's home.

We generally declined invitations connected with her employment but her boss had insisted. Megan worked for a large sporting goods company in promotions and after twenty three years, she wanted to resign and do volunteer work.

At the party, Megan looked stunning in a bikini that very few women her age could have worn. Her body had a very tight, athletic and muscular appearance that looked years younger. Some of the signs of aging were present but she was pretty, vivacious and utterly charming.

Stella, her boss, introduced us to Max Bendinger, a well known freelance photographer.

"Have you ever considered modeling?" Max asked with a slight European accent.

Megan blushed.

"I did some for my job but I was still in my twenties." She stated factually.

Max explained that quite a few publishers had shown interest in photo shoots of hot looking middle age women. The photos had to be tasteful with minimal nudity above the waist. In other words, the model would be asked to bare a breast or two.

Max gave us his card and told us to check out his references. If Megan was interested, he would have to do some test shots first. But, if a major publication purchased any photos, it meant big money, over six figures.

That night in the privacy of our bedroom, Megan demanded my complete honesty as she paraded her nude body in front of me.

"You look good, no, damn good!" I exclaimed with enthusiasm.

Megan was an advocate of physical fitness. Her workouts incorporated weight training and five mile runs to stay in peak condition.

Her breasts had no sag and her lean frame showed no signs of cellulite or droopiness. If anything, her skin showed some signs of aging as the suppleness of youth had vanished.

The sight of her nude body, even after twenty three years of marriage, inflamed my lust and we screwed like two teenagers until exhaustion set in.

We extensively researched Max's references and were pleased to hear that he was the consummate professional.

I insisted that it was Megan's decision and she had to be comfortable with the situation. It would require her resignation from her current job but that was the easiest part.

With some reluctance Megan agreed to the test shoot but admitted it was the allure of the money that attracted her the most.

"Hon, you can retire early." She said in a loving voice.

Max invited me to the test shoot which lasted over ten hours. The proper lighting, angles, wardrobe and make up took up the bulk of the time.

Megan had to bare her breasts for some shots. As Max took multiple exposures, his assistant commented to me;

"Your wife has sexy and firm breasts." She intimated in a lilting French accent. I'm sure I blushed.

Max deemed the test shots successful and the only remaining problem was scheduling the first photo shoot. He preferred the beaches of Thailand because of the exotic locale and look. The only week available on his calendar was Christmas week, barely a month away.

Because we considered it a golden opportunity, we readily agreed to the date and location. The night before Megan left, we made passionate love. It was the first Christmas we would spend apart in our entire marriage.

On Christmas Day, Megan called from Thailand. She said that Max had found the perfect location on a deserted stretch of beach about twenty miles south. They were leaving before sunrise to take advantage of the morning sun. It was the last time I spoke to her.

The following day, I heard Kit scream in the family room. She was watching news coverage of the devastating Tsunami that hit the countries in the Indian Ocean region, one of which was Thailand. The date was December 26th 2004.

My heart sank to my knees and although a part of me was optimistic about Megan's survival, I knew otherwise. I spent a month in Thailand looking and hoping until her body was recovered and identified thru dental records.

Max's body and his assistant, Babette were never found. Some of his equipment was recovered but the authorities speculated that they had been washed out to sea when the waters retreated.

I quit my job at the University and grieved alone. My one true love, the person I planned on growing old with, was gone.

Postscript:

I finished my introductory workout and thanked the exercise tech. In the lobby, Ray's dejected expression remained unchanged but an idea took shape in my mind. I knew a sure fire way to loosen up his sphincter.

On the way home, I made Ray stop at Baron's Tavern; a local favorite for good food, booze and friendly conversation,

Ray balked at the idea of spending money on frivolities.

"I'm buying, now lets go in!" I demanded.

With sighs and resignation, Ray followed me and we sat at the bar. He liked beer and I ordered pints of the best draft on tap. The multiple plasma TV's with every sporting event imaginable grabbed his attention.

Ray was clueless as to the cost because the bartender kept a running tab. I ordered roast beef sandwiches, a tavern specialty. As we ate, the bartender refilled our glasses without prompting.

After the fourth or fifth refill, Ray was pleasantly loopy and his speech a little slurred. He asked about Megan because of the photos he had seen in Kit's home.

I related the happy and tragic story of our marriage. When I ended the story Ray put his arm around my shoulder in sympathy. It was a magnanimous gesture that really impressed me. By now, he was well into his ninth pint of draft.

I helped Ray to the car and commandeered the keys. He was singing an unrecognizable song in a slurred voice when he stopped and patted me on the back.

"You're my friend." He stated in boozy but honest voice.

I was pleased with myself; I had brought the stiff back from the valley of gloom.

As I pulled into the driveway at Kit's house, Ray had a concerned expression on his slack face.

"I'm in for it now. Mother won't understand." He declared with fear and worry.

I detested hearing grown men refer to their wife as "mother."

"I had a good time with my new friend." He bellowed drunkenly and launched into some country western ballad.

With my arm supporting his weight, Ray shuffled up the front walk.

"Oh, how much was the bill." He asked in a wheezy whisper.

"Only ten dollars!" I replied, lying thru my teeth.

"Really? We have to back there tomorrow!" He said with yearning and gave me a conspiratorial wink. Nothing appealed to him more than a bargain.

"Of course we will." I said in total agreement with his request.

Just then the front door opened. Kit and Mrs. "White Bread" gaped at us in astonishment.

"What's wrong with Ray?" Kit asked me with an angry scowl.

The question needed no answer on my part.

"Raymond Pennington!" His wife declared loudly.

"I want to introduce my new friend. Everyone say hello to Art Poole." He stated in an alcohol soaked voice.

As I helped Ray up the steps, Kit's scowl turned to a smile. I had found the middle ground that would help me survive my time with her in laws, the Pennington's.

As Ray broke into yet another cowboy ballad, Mrs. Pennington took over and helped Ray thru the front door. Kit took my arm and regarded me with love.

"New friend indeed." She said sarcastically and playfully poked me in the stomach.