Mary and Alvin Ch. 08

"No, I...maybe I shouldn't have come, but thank you for the drink."

"Please have one more with me and forgive my foolishness."

Mary nodded and Brent called for another round.

"I don't think you were foolish," Mary said in a shaky voice, "I'm flattered that you are interested in me. It's a nice change of pace."

"I can't imagine any man not being utterly interested in you."

Mary looked into his eyes and he drew in closer. He's going to kiss me, she thought, I can't let him kiss me. But when he kissed her, she welcomed it.

Brent leaned back. "Now you must admit, that was foolish," he said.

"Maybe just a bit." Mary felt lightheaded, but knew that she was on dangerous ground.

"I should go," she said.

"Alright," he said, "I will be content with a kiss."

They both stood up. "Let me walk you to your car," Brent offered.

"No, that's alright." She was afraid that if he did, they would kiss again, and that more might follow. "Good night."

She shook his hand and scurried out of the bar. By the time she reached her car, she was trembling. She got behind the wheel and sat, eyes closed, breathing deeply. After a few minutes she was calm enough to drive home.

Wyatt was sitting at the kitchen table when she came into the apartment. There was an array of Chinese food containers in front of him. He was eating fried rice with a spoon.

"I wish I knew you were coming home late," he said as Mary took off her shoes.

"I left you a message."

"Yeah, I meant before that."

Mary sat down across from him and looked in the cartons. She found one containing steamed dumplings, picked one out with her fingers and ate it.

"So, where'd you go?"

"Out for drinks with someone from work."

"Oh." He picked up his phone and started reading something.

"Wyatt, can we talk?"

"Sure," he said, scrolling.

"Put the phone down, please."

"Yeah, in a sec."

"Wyatt, put the phone down."

"Just a..."

"Goddamn it, Wyatt," she shouted, "put the fucking phone down!"

Wyatt looked at her as if she had slapped him.

"Jesus, Mary, what's your deal?"

She struggled to keep her voice calm. "My deal is that if I ask to talk to you, it ought to be more important to you than whatever you are doing on your phone."

"Okay, okay, what's so important?"

"We need to talk about us."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Oh, another what's wrong with Wyatt conversation."

"No, let's talk about what's wrong with Mary for once."

"Okay, so what's wrong?" Mary could hear an undertone of impatience in his voice.

"I've been unhappy for a while now, Wyatt, I think you know that."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Have you given any thought as to why, or if there is anything you can do about it?"

Wyatt stared into his rice and said nothing.

"Do you still love me?" Mary asked in a quiet voice.

"Oh course I do."

"Why?"

"I have always loved you. Goddamn it, you know that."

Mary leaned her chin on her hand and gazed at the ceiling for a long moment, then looked at Wyatt.

"I have always loved you, Wyatt, but I don't know if I want to be married to you anymore."

He looked at her with a stunned expression. He quietly mumbled, "Fuck that," then swept his arm across the table, sending dumplings and rice and General Tso's Chicken flying.

Mary jumped up from the table and retreated into the living room. She heard Wyatt's fists slam into the table, and then the apartment was silent. She walked back to the archway into the kitchen. He was still sitting there, food all over his shirt. He looked up at her, tears flowing down his cheeks. Mary left the room before her own tears could fall.

She went to the bedroom and took her suitcase out of the closet. She hurriedly packed a few outfits, then gathered up her make up and toiletries. At the last minute she snatched the book she's been reading from the nightstand and stuffed it into the bulging suitcase.

Wyatt was still sitting at the table. Mary had practiced what to say while she packed, and she managed to get through her speech without breaking down.

"Wyatt, I am going to go to my Mom's for a few days. I want you to figure out where you are going to go while I'm gone. I can afford this apartment on my own, you can't. I don't know what's going to happen, but for now, I need to be on my own. I'll call you."

Wyatt looked up at her and nodded. "I'll clean up the food."

"Thank you," she said, and walked out.

Mary heard someone call her name. She looked around to see Kelly Martin striding towards her. Mary stood up and they hugged. Kelly turned to a very large man behind her.

"This is my husband, Mike. And somewhere, oh there she is, that's my daughter, Breanna. I don't know where the boys have run off to."

Mary shook hands with Mike as Breanna, who looked to be about eight, waved from behind a beard of pink cotton candy. Don't go on any boat rides, kid, Mary thought.

After a few minutes of chatting about the fair and the weather, Kelly got a serious look on her face.

"Listen, Mary," she asked, "I wonder if you could do us a big favor?"

"Sure, if I can."

"Well, Bre really wants to ride the ferris wheel, and unaccompanied kids aren't allowed. I am deathly afraid of heights, and Mike, well..."

"I don't fit," her husband shrugged.

"Oh, I see." Mary looked down at Breanna. "Would you like to go on the ferris wheel with me?"

Breanna nodded enthusiastically. Mary thought she said thank you, but it was muffled by a mouthful of pink fluff.

Mary disposed of her lunch trash and they all walked to the carnival rides in the parking lot. Mike purchased two tickets and handed them to Mary.

"I'll hold that for you," Kelly said, taking her daughter's cotton candy and biting into it. Breanna skipped over to the ferris wheel line. Mary followed and joined her.

"Have you been on a ferris wheel before?" she asked the girl.

"Nope. Have you?"

"Yes, a long time ago. With my father. I was probably about your age."

"At the festival?"

"No, honey, it was a place called the Santa Monica Pier."

Breanna frowned. "Is that by here?"

Mary shook her head. "No, it's in California."

Breanna's eyes widened. "You been in California?"

The line began to move. "I was born there," Mary told her, "but I live here now."

They clambered into a seat. The attendant lowered the safety bar and locked them in. Breanna jumped as the wheel lurched upward a few feet. Mary put her arm over the girl's shoulders. "That's just them moving the car so the next people can get in."

Breanna relaxed and did not flinch when the car lurched again.

Finally the wheel began to slowly rotate. As they rose, Mary looked down, watching the park grow smaller beneath them. "There's my Mom and Dad," Breanna shouted, waving both hands. Mary waved as well and saw Kelly give them two thumbs up. The cotton candy was gone.

They rose higher, and Mary looked towards the landing and Faulkner's Wharf came into view behind it. Tiny shapes moved about. Certainly one of them was Alvin. She raised her eyes and beyond the wharf she saw the curve of the shore, whitecaps breaking against it's rocky edge. Beyond the breakers, green hills rose and fell as far as her eye could see. Here and there the sun sparkled off a lake or the bend of a river. Had it not been for a few cell phone towers and the slashes of power lines, the world beyond Londonderry might have been an endless forest.

They crested the top and the wheel kept turning. Mary felt the descent in her stomach and looked to Breanna, but the girl's smile was broad and untroubled.

They reached the bottom and began a second upward pass, this time moving slowly, stopping for each car to spend a moment at the zenith. Mary looked the other way, out across the water. With each tick upward, the bay seemed to widen. She peered out toward the islands, and knew that if Alvin were here, he could show her where they had seen the dolphins. He could point to the cove where they had docked that first day they spent together. Where they had first kissed.

The car reached the top and she could see beyond the islands. Land and sea alternated to the misty horizon. In the distance she saw sunlight glittering off low mountains. It made her think of California. Mountains by the sea were so rare that they seemed a special thing, something unlikely, that really should not be.

"Look out there!" Breanna cried. She pointed far out in the bay, to a single set of white sails surrounded by deep blue. "I wonder what it's like being way out there."

"It's beautiful," Mary whispered, "as beautiful as anything could be."

Breanna looked up at her. "Um, Mary, are you crying?"

Mary wiped her eyes. "Sometimes really beautiful things make you cry."

"Oh yeah," Breanna nodded, "My Mom cries sometimes from reading books."

The wheel turned and they made their way to the ground. Mary's knees buckled slightly as she stepped on to the pavement.

"You alright, dear?" Kelly asked.

"I'm fine, just a little wobbly," Mary said.

"Did you eat all my cotton candy?" Breanna asked her mother.

"Might have," Kelly replied, "is my face sticky?" She took her daughter's face in both hands and kissed her on the mouth. Breanna recoiled and wiped her face on her arm as her mother cackled and turned to Mary.

"Thanks, Mary," she said, holding her arms out, "Here, you want a big sticky kiss?"

"I'm good, Kel. I'll see you on Monday."

They parted and Mary walked down towards the water. A rock and roll band was playing in the bandshell, and most of the crowd had congregated there. She reached the shore and climbed halfway down the rocky slope. Finding a smooth shelf of rock, she sat down and hugged her legs against her chest. The view from the ferris wheel had left her oddly unsettled. She had come to Maine for a fresh start, but she had not seriously considered if she would stay long term. Alvin complicated things. A relationship with him would be a commitment to living here, perhaps for the rest of her life.

It was ironic, she thought, that in a way, she owed her presence in Maine to Brent.

She had no desire to date anyone in the months after Wyatt moved out. She had never lived alone, and she found that she could enjoy solitude. Eating the meals she wanted without compromising, reading all evening without interruption, drifting off to sleep without the raucous soundtrack of video games from the next room; being single had its charms. But eventually, she began to feel lonesome, and when her sister-in-law Beth asked her if she would be interested in meeting one of her male friends, Mary agreed.

His name was Charles, and he was an engineer at an aerospace company. Beth and Dan arranged a small dinner party, and Beth made sure than he and Mary sat side by side.

He was a nice looking guy, slightly overweight, with light blonde hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His manners were impeccable and his conversation lively. Mary enjoyed his company and, at the end of the evening, when he asked her if she would be interested in accompanying him to a symphony concert the following week, she readily said yes.

The concert was pleasant but not exciting. She enjoyed Charles' company though, and they lingered over drinks a long time afterwards, getting to know each other.

The following week, it was dinner and a movie, and the next, a wine tasting party at a house in the Hollywood Hills. By the fourth date, Mary realized that they were already running out of things to talk about. Nonetheless, when he asked her if she would spend the night with him, she agreed.

Charles was tender, considerate and quick. Mary reassured him that she was not upset with him, and promised that the next time would be better. It was but it still left her unsatisfied. She considered breaking things off with him, but felt a bit of shame at the idea that she would not see him because their sex had not been good. She went out with him one more time, but declined his invitation to his bed. He did not call the next week, perhaps sensing that she was losing interest, and when he did finally call and she told him she thought it was time to move on, he seemed neither surprised nor disappointed.

Mary had never considered sex particularly important. Before Charles there had only been Wyatt. Their lovemaking had been exciting in the early years, but had begun petering out long before their breakup.

Now, however, she was starting to miss the touch of a man. But even more, she began wondering if she had missed the opportunities for real romance in her life. She'd been a good girl, she had always played things safe. Maybe, she wondered, I should have slept with Brent.

Once that thought entered her head, it would not go away. One night, lounging on her couch, she searched to see if he had a Facebook account. When she couldn't find one, she tried Twitter and found him there. She clicked on Follow and in less than an hour he sent her a private message. It read "your bio says you are single".

His directness made her catch her breath. She replied, confirming that she and Wyatt had separated and that their divorce would soon be finalized.

"I'd like to see you," he messaged back.

"I would like to see you too"

"Tomorrow?"

"Okay"

"Starlight Lounge? For old time sake? 7:00?"

"Yes. See you then."

She put down her laptop and realized that she was breathing heavily. She closed her eyes and thought about him, about those piercing blue eyes. Her hand drifted inside her pajama bottoms and she began to touch herself, imagining kissing him again, and this time, not pulling away.

She walked into the Lounge at exactly seven, and he was at the bar, in the same seat he had been in six months before. He stood and kissed her cheek before helping her onto the high barstool. She had worn a short dress and noticed his eyes on her legs as she sat and crossed them. Within a minute of being with him, she felt sexy in a way she had not in years.

He ordered martinis and asked her about her divorce. He was sympathetic as she described how she and Wyatt had drifted apart. She did not mention how her meeting with him triggered their split. They made small talk about work and politics and the weather, but they soon found themselves sitting in silence. Brent leaned close and ran one finger along the edge of Mary's face, then gently kissed her.

She lowered her head, then raised it to look around the bar. No one was paying them any mind. She put a hand on his shoulder and kissed him back.

They took their drinks to a corner table and sat side by side, holding hands. Brent wanted to know all about Mary; what music she liked, her favorite restaurants, the latest book she had read. Mary reveled in the attention, she could not remember the last time anyone was so interested in her. She scarcely noticed that when she asked about him, he deflected her questions, usually with a kiss.

They drank another round and Brent began drawing circles on Mary's thigh with his fingertips.

"I should get home soon," she told him, "it is a work night."

"I hope it won't be six months before I see you again."

She picked his hand up off her leg and squeezed it. "No, I don't think it will."

"Let me walk you to your car."

He took her hand and escorted her out of the lounge and down the block to where she had parked. She opened the car door and turned back to face him. He took her in his arms and kissed her. She kissed him back eagerly.

"I was wondering," he said, "I have the use of a friend's Beach House in Malibu. Would you like to take a ride out there with me on Saturday?"

The idea seemed so romantic that Mary could not help but nod in assent. They kissed again and parted.

He picked her up on Saturday morning in a cherry red Corvette convertible. She wore a floral pattern blue and white sundress, and she spent the whole ride to the beach holding it down in the wind. Still, she felt excited. This was the sort of romantic adventure she had never thought she would experience.

They stopped for lunch at a cafe near the lagoon, then drove to the beach house. Brent unlocked the door and they stepped inside. Mary crossed the living room to the ocean side, where a glass wall gave a panoramic view of the beach and the rolling surf. She felt Brent's hands on her hips and his lips on the side of her neck.

"Mmm," she moaned, "this is wonderful."

"This is what a woman like you deserves." He turned her around and they kissed.

"Come on," he said, guiding her to a spiral staircase. She climbed it, Brent behind her, his hand on her hip. She stepped into a large bedroom and saw the same view of the ocean. Before she could see much more, Brent had swept her onto the king sized bed. He was on her, their legs entwined, their tongues finding each other. Mary fumbled with his belt buckle while he tugged her dress above her waist. In a moment, they were naked, and in another, he was inside her.

Neither Wyatt nor Charles had fucked her like this. It felt urgent but controlled. She held on tight and wrapped her legs around his waist. After several minutes, he rolled over, carrying her with him. He continued fucking her from beneath. She was close to an orgasm when he shifted again, turning her over and entering her from behind. She raised her ass to meet him and the sound of his hips slapping against her seemed as loud as thunder. In a few moments she came with a long low moan. Brent pushed her down prone on the bed and she felt his weight pressing on her. He suddenly stiffened, then moving slowly, he came in a shuddering finish and laid limp on top of her.

Mary pushed upward and Brent rolled off of her. She sat up, struggling to steady her breathing.

"That was great," Brent moaned.

"It was," Mary puffed. It had been the best sex she'd ever had. There was something about the way that he had been in control, while remaining attuned to her responses that was very different from anything she had experienced before. She flopped back on the bed and closed her eyes. They laid together in silence, enjoying the afterglow.

After a while, Mary got up to use the bathroom. When she came back, Brent was looking at his phone. He glanced up at Mary with a frown, then back at the screen.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I've got to get back to town."

"Is something wrong?" Mary asked.

"No, it's just a work problem." He rolled off the bed and put his arms around her. He kissed her and said, "I wish we could stay, but I promise we will come back, okay?"

Mary nodded and gathered her clothes. As they drove home she watched the sunlight glimmer on the ocean. She had imagined that they would walk on the beach, preferably at sunset. She had even fantasized making love in the surf. But despite her disappointment, she felt contented. When Brent dropped her off, she considered the possibility that she might not see him again, and she was alright with that. The experience had been worthwhile, even if it might not be repeated.

It was repeated. The following weekend they enjoyed dinner at a restaurant near Mary's apartment, then spent the night in her bed, making love for hours. One day, Brent met her for lunch and she gave him a blowjob in his car. She loved the feeling of naughtiness she felt when she returned to work.

Mary was feeling great on the day when everything changed. In fact, as she drove home, she was thinking about what a fine day it had been. She felt like she'd had a productive shift at work, and she was planning to talk to Brent that evening and accept his invitation to accompany him on an upcoming trip to San Francisco.

That was before she pulled into her parking space and saw a nicely dressed blonde woman striding purposefully towards her.

"Are you the whore?" the woman snarled at Mary.

Mary looked at her, shocked. "Excuse me?"

"You're Mary, right? The slut who is fucking my husband?"