Long after the Game Ch. 04

*****

"Sooo....?"

The question was asked in that very knowing way that women have, when they already know the answer, but it's juicy and they want you to spill anyway.

Deanna blushed and stammered out, "It was...pretty great, actually. He went with it. I honestly didn't know if he would, but he did. And oh my god. I saw stars, you know?"

"Better than that other guy?" asked Rhonda, bluntly.

Deanna looked sharply at her, but thought for a second. It was a legitimate question.

"Oh definitely. That was all about discovery. This is about...knowing what you want. We did some other stuff. Your suggestion about dressing up, Rhonda. I think it was so out of character for me, it forced him to sit up and take notice. And, to be honest, it was damn slutty. I loved it. I couldn't be like that all the time, for sure, but once in a while, where no one knows me? I could go for that. It got me all warmed up for Ryan, that's for sure. Well, more warmed up."

They were sitting in the coffee shop, as usual. All armed with lattes, and Trey was hovering on the outskirts. It was obvious he wasn't thrilled to be there, but it was obvious he was paying attention. Only Mae noticed his wince when Deanna made her declaration about her evening.

"We spent all night doing it. Some of the hottest sex I've ever had, to be honest. And then again next day. I'm still sore, to be frank with you girls. Oh, sorry Trey," she said, noticing Trey and his discomfort.

"Frank sex talk a bit much for you, Trey boy?" asked Rhonda, with a smirk. Trey just looked at her and then looked away, not trusting himself to respond.

"So, ok, you got laid, introduced him to a new you. What's the verdict?" asked Mae, leaning forward and curious.

"I really don't know Mae. I just don't. Yeah, he was into it – he's not been laid in forever I'm sure and it was on a plate. I did ask him about how he felt and he just... avoided the issue. I don't know if I am getting through or what. I thought I'd know more, you know? The history we have, knowing each other. Even working for him for those two weeks... he's just a lot more closed than he used to be. I still don't really know for sure where I stand. But he's not told me to get lost, and we have a standing dinner date. It's just so...frustrating, you know? I hoped I'd be a lot further along by now."

Gina put her hand on Deanna's arm and said, "Steady there girl. We've – you've – been at this a couple of months. It takes a lot longer to overcome what happened for a man. You know what you want, he has to come to that by himself."

"I know, Gina... I just...want this to be done. Decided. Get us on our way."

"You are totally task based, you know that?" stated Trey, suddenly.

"I'm sorry?" asked Deanna, puzzled.

"Well, it's all about getting things done, isn't it? It's not about how he feels, it's about, here's Task A. This is what I want to happen, now how do I get it done, with you. Maybe that's part of the problem? You are approaching this like it's a bunch of tasks, and it's not. It's time. It's effort. It's showing him that you are dependable. It's not about grand gestures, although they have their place. It's about the daily grind. It's about being there, day in, day out. Doing the little things. You just want to pay the fine and go home, but it's not like that."

There was silence to this outburst, and Deanna looked wildly at the other women.

"Is he right? Am I going about this all wrong?"

The other girls avoided looking at each other till Mae said, thoughtfully, "Well, he may be. But what else can you do? You made it clear that you are not expecting to just be totally forgiven, right? That you don't expect trust to suddenly just spring up again, yes?

Deanna nodded at Mae, close to tears. Rhonda got up and sat on the arm of the chair Deanna was sitting in, rubbing her arms.

"Look, I didn't mean to bring everyone down. I'm just trying to be realistic here. You did something pretty terrible Deanna. It's not going to be okay over night. That doesn't mean you shouldn't try or that what you are doing is wrong. I just think your expectations might be a little high is all." Trey was doing his best to smooth it over a bit.

"He's right, Deanna. I gotta agree," said Gina. Rhonda nodded sympathetically. "Take it slow, I mean, look at it this way, he's not told you to get lost. That door hasn't been closed, and it so easily could be."

Deanna nodded, somewhat mollified. "Yeah, I guess. I just wanna....get on with life, you know? Get back that close family feeling."

"I know," said Gina, "I know."

"Hey, after the last thing, maybe things will turn around. It's a pretty big gesture, after all."

There was silence for a moment, where everyone was lost in their thoughts, sipping coffee and looking at nothing in particular.

In an attempt to brighten up the proceedings, Mae said, "So, what's everyone doing tonight? Dinner anyone?"

"Can't. Got a hot date," grinned Rhonda.

Gina sighed and said, "I have 30 short stories to grade. Wish I could." Gina was a community college teacher, teaching English and cultural studies.

"Trey and I are heading out to the Insurance Award Ball tonight. It's a charity event. It was the first place we went when we tried dating. It seems the least I can do for all the help he's given. Plus, the food was out of this world," intoned Deanna, her face brightening.

Mae reacted to that news with a scowl.

"Yes, and we'd better get going if we are going to get changed and get there," said Trey, looking at his watch and getting up.

Everyone stood up at once, apart from Mae.

"Deanna, can I speak with you for a second?" she said, quietly.

Deanna looked at her, then glanced at Trey and said, "Go, I'll catch up in a second."

"What's up Mae?" she asked, sitting back down again.

"Are you sure this dinner thing is a good idea, Deanna?"

"What? It's just dinner. He needs a date, so I'm going along. It's not like itisa date. I'm just...an escort. Although not that sort," she chuckled.

"No, I mean, Trey has been helpful, but... I just... what would Ryan say, if he knew?"

"Knew what? I went out to a charity awards event? It's not a big deal Mae. He'd totally understand. I did it before, when we were married. Well, once, anyway. We are divorced, he doesn't get to dictate my life." Deanna was puzzled by Mae's attitude.

"Of course you are right, Deanna. I just think... this could be seen in other ways."

Deanna snorted. "It's just a charity event Mae. I'm not going to sleep with the guy. Started down that path once and no, not going to happen. He's just a friend. A helpful friend. And he deserves my time."

"Of course," repeated Mae, clearly disengaging. "Have a nice night Deanna."

*****

I was having dinner with Paula about a week after getting back from Las Vegas. Saffron was at a sleepover and Jamie was next door. They had a pool and I'd sent him to swimming lessons and he was now officially a fish. He spent every moment he wasn't playing video games in the pool next door. Which was fine by me. The next door neighbors, Bob and Tommy –a gay married couple– had a teenage daughter was also both a good baby sitter as well as a licensed life guard. She was going to be a hottie later in life, and I think Jamie was quite taken with her. For his age. I couldn't help but smile – he was a chip off the old block. He may be adopted, but some genes are carried through the soul.

Anyway, Paula and I had gotten some Giordano's pizza, and after a few non flattering comments from my eldest born about waist lines and me acting like a pig with my snout firmly in the food, while we were watching the latest episode of Person of Interest, she dropped a bomb of a question on me.

"So, Dad," she said, dripping a large dollop of pizza pie into her mouth – as I said before, anyone who's ever had Chicago deep dish pizza will know that that is how you have to eat it.

"How was Las Vegas? Get your nasty on with Mom?"

It was said so casually, and I literally choked on the piece I was chewing. Your oldest child shouldnotbe asking you about your sex life, particularly not if it's she's a girl and you are not. Not in my life, anyway.

I paused the TV and bugged my eyes at Paula, and she smiled and chewed, and then said, "C'mon Dad. You've been way less of a bear since you went away. It was obviously what those Brits call a 'dirty weekend'. Just kinda curious about where all this is going?"

"Well, " I said, trying desperately to figure out how to respond to this, "firstly, don't talk with your mouth full. And secondly, that's a good question. Honestly? I don't know."

"Well, we know what she wants, right?"

I nodded, chewing some more. The pizza was there. It was daring me. What are you gonna do? Pizza can't be allowed to get away with sassing you.

"You know Paula, I know we talked a bit when I... your mom and I broke up. You know what happened. I don't really think we've talked much about what you thought? Of her? Of what she did?"

Paula shrugged and said, "Well, it sucked. She blew our family apart. What she did was unforgivable. I mean, there's no other way to look at it."

"Well, I dunno Paula. She betrayed me, not you."

"No she didn't Dad. She betrayed all of us. This whole family. What she did split us apart. How can you sit there and say she didn't fuck with all of us?"

I frowned at her, for the bad language and she rolled her eyes.

"C'mon Dad. I'm fifteen. It's not like I've never heard the word. The world is out there, and people use it all the time. Get over it."

"But seriously, what she did was shitty. There's no other word for it. Should you forgive her? I dunno. Kinda up to you. From where I sit... well, she's mom. It would be great for us to be a family again, although how you'd trust her, I don't know."

I was astounded. This was all coming out of Paula, matter of factly. No histrionics, just stated as though she was talking about homework. What surprised me most though, was the fact that there was no plea's for "you can trust her now" or anything else. It was pure pragmatism and blunt pragmatism at that.

"I...ok then," I said, not knowing what else to say really. I eyed her doubtfully, not entirely sure I was copasetic with everything she'd said. It was all too neat and tidy and too along my own lines.

I needn't have worried.

"We definitely had a better time all together though. And you have to admit, the trip to Minnesota was like old times, right? And it's not like you've been exactly perfect, Dad, throughout all this either."

"I...what?" I asked, piece of pizza on it's way to mouth and now forgotten.

"Oh come on Dad. You seriously think you can pull the shenanigans you did with the video screen at the ball game and it not come back on us? I, for one, could have done without that. And so could Saffron. I had to deck three different people for making smart assed remarks at school, and I know Saffron had issues too. Of course everyone knew about it. And we had to deal. I'm glad you had your fun and inflicted some pain on Mom, but you really weren't thinking about us at the time, were you? So yeah, we could have done without that. So don't sit there imagining you are whiter than white Dad. Cause you're not."

And she then just took another bite of pizza. I sat there, staring at her. The worst part was, she was right. All of it. I hadn't thought about her and Saffron and Jamie at all. I was just hurting and had reacted. I'd congratulated myself at the time for how clever I was, and how much hurt I'd inflicted on Deanna, never thinking about the impact to others I loved.

She noticed me staring and said, "It's ok Dad. I figured you hadn't thought about it. Just wanted you to know. It's all okay. I'd rather be here than with Mom, cause I don't know how I'd look at her every day and not be pretty disgusted. Saffron and Jamie just want us to be a family again, in case you are interested."

"I'm... sorry, Paula. I honestly didn't think. You are right and I'm sorry."

Paula put down the pizza piece and smiled and then scooted over to me, and snuggled up to me. "It's ok Dad. Really. It's all sorted now. If you want Mom back, we are good with that. I just want you to know it's nice to have one parent who understands a vow. I'm sure I can get over it with Mom over time, and it's nice having her around. So, whatever you want, we'll roll with it. Just so you know."

I honestly didn't know what to do at that point. I put my arm around Paula, and unpaused the TV and hoped that she didn't see the tears on my face. Whatever decisions I had to make, I had to consider the kids .

Then she spoilt it by nudging me and saying, coyly, "So, was it good then Dad? Clean out the old pipes?" And I spit out the pizza I was chewing and just couldn't stop laughing.

*****

It was a Thursday. I remember that quite distinctly. I was trying to figure out how to pay for a Quality Assurance group to start testing the game – it's one thing to have some friends and family play it, but it's another thing entirely to have a professional group on it, trying to break it or hack it. That takes expertise and, of course, money. We'd budgeted for some, but now that I'd done the research it was apparent our budget was woefully insufficient. I was trying to figure out if I could hire just one QA manager, then use cheap students and people from Craigslist, and if that would give me what I needed, or if I was fooling myself.

I was actually on a Skype call with one of the guys I'd been negotiating with when I became aware there was a man standing over me. I glanced him over – it was a surprise, but except for the two weeks Deanna was at the front desk, people who wanted to talk to us would often wander in, and look around till they found someone to ask. Obviously the guys were out at lunch or whatever it was they were doing, and this guy had found me. My office door was open, after all.

However, after giving him he once over, I did decide this was something out of the ordinary. He was breathing hard, his teeth were clenched, as were his hands, when I glanced down at them, and the expression on his face, well, lets just say the words "Charitable" wouldn't spring to mind.

He looked pissed. I had no idea why. I wondered if we owed him money.

"Can I help you?" I inquired, trying to smile while wondering if I should get up and come out from my desk? No. He looks pissed about something. Better to have the space between us. In case he does something and I have to...um.. run, or something.

"You're Ryan right?" he said, forcing the words out. He was tall, sandy hair, and the most intense blue eyes I've ever seen.

Doing my best to disarm the situation I smiled wider and said, "Depends, do we owe you money? If so, no, definitely not. Ryan left for...Argentina. Yeah. About a year ago. He loves it there. Wants to travel around. On foot. By himself. Something about 'living off the land'? You want to go there and look for him."

I was doing my best to not be intimidated or get this guy angrier than he already was. He looked me over intently for a few more seconds, and then it just all seemed to collapse in on itself. The anger passed, he pursed his lips and just crashed into the chair in front of my desk. He was still staring at me, but the aggressive stance was gone. It wasn't replaced by a friendly demeanor, but at least I didn't feel like I was in a fight or flight situation anymore, so there was that.

There were a couple more moments, where I could see this mystery man groping for what to say next. He finally settled on, "You're an asshole, you know?"

For the second time in as many minutes I was taken aback.

"Excuse me?" I said, trying not to be angry, but not doing a great job of it.

"An asshole. Like I said. She takes you to fucking Vegas, runs your company for you, all sorts of things, and what do you do? You take it for fucking granted." He snarled that last line.

Things were starting to drop into place. I suddenly realized who this man was. This was her secret weapon. Her 'advisor'. The one she's mentioned but not gone into detail on. At the time I hadn't pushed for details, since I was still holding my wall up. I simply didn't want to get into the details of her life; who she was seeing, what she was doing, beyond that which I had to in order to be a co-parent with her. Her coming to me was her idea, and I was watching it from the outside.

As all this went through my mind, the question arose, 'where are we now?', which the answer of which would inform how I reacted to this guy. I got the impression from Deanna more and more that she wanted to know too. It was never asked outright, and there were no deeply suggestive looks where I was given the time to compose an answer, but it was there, hovering. I knew it, and I was deliberately not thinking about it because I just didn't know what to think. I'm good at that – procrastination and avoidance. You may have noticed that. I wonder if the Bears will suck again this year? Probably.

I opened my mouth to say something. Nothing came out. I closed it again, then after a second said, "I'm presuming we are talking about Deanna here, yes? Just to clarify? Wouldn't want to go off half cocked."

The guy nodded miserably, staring fixedly at one of the stupid desk toys I have. Magnetic balls. One of the guys had made it look like a helix.

"So, you are...? Her 'friend', yes? Her secret weapon. The advisor?"

Another nod. He still didn't meet my eyes.

"Can I ask, what's your interest in all this? Why are you here?"

At that, his eyes yanked up, blazing for a moment.

"Because you're an asshole. Someone needs to tell you that."

I sat back a bit, thinking hard, trying to work out what this guy's horse in the race was. I mean, he was acting like....oh...fuck.

I could see that he could see something crawl across my face. His blazing eyes retreated again.

"You have feelings for her." I said it softly, as statement, not a threat.

He leaned forward, slowly, hands clasped together, staring again at another toy on my desk.

"She's....I...look, I know. I know she's all hung up on you. You are all she talks about. There's no room for anyone else. But there she is for you. Trying so hard."

He turned his eyes to me and they were haunted.

"You told her she had to work out how to get back in your graces. Well, here she is, doing exactly that. Single minded to the last. She has a plan and by god, she's going to stick to it."

I rubbed my face with my hand, thinking "oh shit". I could feel the end of day stubble.

"Well, what are we going to do about that?" I asked, metaphorically.

Metaphorical or no, he answered anyway. "Someone needs to point it out to you, you know? You are treating it as a joke. She's waiting for you, for a sign, for forgiveness. She can't forgive herself until you do. But she won't ask. She doesn't think she deserves that. But you just sit there, taking everything she's giving you, all amusement and joy. Take take take." There was bitterness in his voice.

"Someone just needs to tell you what an asshole you are being."

Abruptly he stood up, hands in fists by his side, as they had been when he came in.

He shook his head, looked at me, snarled, and almost ran out the door.

I just sat there, more than a little stunned at the whole chain of events.

I had some major thinking to do, that was for sure. And some things to find out. And I had a good idea of how to do it. More sneaking around though. I honestly thought I was done with that. I should have been a spy. Yeah. I would have made a great one. Me and Ilya Kuryakin. Radios in the shoes. What would that be now? Twitter in the fingernail? MAN, I've got to get control of that sidetracking thing...