Moments of Comfort for Frances

Frances and David Lawson lived a quieter life now, their home in Concord, New Hampshire, fitted out differently from the days that David was a sought-after lecturer, and a fiercely independent academic, at Boston University. His vigour and intellectual sharpness had been cruelly taken from him by a devastating stroke that left him confined to a wheelchair, or the cushioned, sagging, comfort of his favourite armchair. He had been just fifty when that happened and for Frances, three years younger, their settled and active world had come crashing down around them.

David still managed to undertake some work, to deal with referrals where his sorely tested expertise could still be brought to bear. Frances would often be at his side to help him, to interpret what he said as they sat close together at the computer and she acted as his assistant or compliant, yet hard-pressed, secretary. There were times, still, when that devotion could still be expressed in the sharing of fumbled intimacy, or she taking the lead in seeking to satisfy her needs.

In that part of her life, with him, there had opened an emotional and only too physical void that she was ashamed to acknowledge, in quieter moments when alone in her bed, and that a gifted son-in-law, Nathan Pelletier, made her only too aware of.

Susan, her daughter often spoke of their times together, of their wide circle of friends and what they all got up to on long weekends spent in the forest, on hikes and al-fresco barbecues, their lively discussions around a camp fire before they retreated to a cabin for the night. Rebecca hadn't been the outdoorsy type, but she had become less fearful of being out of her city-bred comfort zone, once confiding, 'Nat's so attentive that he soon takes away my fears...loves them away.'

Frances watched Nat as he tended to David, his easy chatter seeming to soften her husband's fractious mood; his engaging wistful smile, on her when she caught him looking her way, provoking those feeling again, those she had when alone in her room as thoughts turned to the changes in her life over the past two years.

Her world certainly had been turned upside down where it concerned David. With Nat, she felt a closer bond developing, the unbidden sharing of simple duties of caring that she sensed he wanted to be a part of whenever he called in, as he had done late on this Friday afternoon, the evening light fading fast and she having to prepare David for bed.

She had stifled her reaction on seeing him, such was his place in her thoughts when she was alone. But now, and with him close by, she would allow her hopes to fly free. Yes, she admitted to herself, it had come to this for her, the search for a surrogate for all that had once passed for an active life with a devoted husband. There were times when she scarcely recognised the man she had fallen in love with and married.

"It's a lovely surprise that you called in," she now told Nathan, or Nat, as they had a moment to themselves in the kitchen. "Susan knows that you're here, does she?"

"She sure does, Frances...I got a call to be up here, in town, when I got to my office in Boston...endured the jams on the freeway only to be called away. So, I drove up here. Did what had to be done for work and thought to call in. Sorry about giving no notice...or calling an hour or so before I showed up."

"You know you never have to do that. The door's always open...and I sure need some company...different, you know?"

"Has it been tough, lately?"

"Yes, but I won't bother you with it all..."

"You should know, by now, that it's no bother to me wanting to be of help...to you," he assured her before pausing and looking at her, at what Frances had chosen to wear. It was different from other times, when slacks and a jumper, over a blouse, served as the clothes of a carer to a demanding man. He was captivated by her style, the glow on her skin and the unmistakable hint of a favoured floral scent. "I like your dress...may I say that?"

"You're the only one who has...." she answered on meeting what she could only think was his appraising look upon her.

It had been that way from the moment she had opened the door to him and met his kisses of greeting to her cheeks. She'd kept from putting her arms about him, a young man in his smart work suit, shirt, and tie, and with his wondering look upon her.

It was something she would have to store away in her bank of memories that she kept of him. She wondered if, at a moment of some stress for her, if in that look she had sensed that she had touched him, somehow, turned him on or hinted at something happening that was so different from everything that passed for their proper relationship. If so, it was extremely flattering and a repayment for her rush to get changed quickly before he arrived. She had chosen to wear a dress that lifted her spirits and to encourage his gaze upon her. Even after two kids, she had kept her figure, had aged gracefully as some would say, and Nathan's look on her had suggested that she had succeeded. There was still something to be grateful for, the look of a man she felt close to.

If nothing else, he had noticed her as never before, and she followed him around her smart kitchen, the decision to move to a single level dwelling becoming a priority when David's true condition became known and irretrievable. Setting up a new home had all but wasted her energy and resolve. Now, she had her quarters and David had his, the floors hard and flat, suitable for a wheel chair and the doors wider than was usual. The lot was open, lined by trees and in summer tended by her as far as time allowed.

Nat stepped into the hallway and stood looking into the living room and where David sat in his chair. He seemed to be staring into space but turned as Nat approached him.

"There you are, I wondered where the two of you had gone..."

"I'm boiling up some more water," Nat replied easily, shrugging off his jacket as he did so and placing it on the back of the sofa that David sat near to. "I thought to give you a shave, if you'll let me do that...make you feel better before you turn in. What do you say?"

Nat's voice was light and easy, the look on David considerate.

"That would be wonderful, wouldn't it David?" Frances came to stand by his side and looked at Nat for an instant, a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Frances always does it," David rasped, the hand that he put to the greying stubble on his chin and cheeks seen to be trembling.

"It will be a change, for both of you from that routine, if you'll let me?"

"You can stay so long here, can you?" David twisted in his seat until he could see both of them. "What about your wife...uh..."

"Susan...she's called Susan, honey, your daughter," Frances suggested, her voice consoling as she tried to spur his thoughts on.

"I sure know who she is...my daughter!"

"We're both here to help you, David...so what's it to be?" Nat prompted and attempting to soothe frayed tempers, his tone softening and becoming persuasive. A moment's look at Frances soon showed that her lips trembled. "Go and sit down...I'll deal with this. I guess David's bedroom is the place..."

"Yes...he has his own bathroom as you know."

"I'm here too, so talk to me as well! I'm here...and I haven't lost everything. Yes, go on then...shave me...spruce me up, some...before I hit the sack."

Nat held out his hands to David who gripped them as best he could. "Good...Frances and I will help you get in there..."

Frances was now seen to lean over the wheelchair to steady it, to straighten the thin cushion on the seat before she placed it close to David's knees as he turned his back on her. Nathan saw the slow movement of her breasts, encased in that wrap round dress of hers, flesh so full compared to his young wife's trim figure. What was he thinking of in giving her the eye again, and Frances knowing that he had made no secret of it? The string of pearly beads at her throat had only made him look at her a while longer, to take delight in her easy grace.

David stood on shaking legs, steadied by Nathan before he slumped down in the chair, his scrabbling feet on the rests that Nathan soon flipped down.

"All yours, Frances," he smiled, encouragingly and in easy familiarity, before stepping aside to let her pass.

"Thank you for being here...stay a while longer, please?" she murmured on looking at him, her eyes soft and pleading.

He nodded his reply, Frances taken by the creases that soon formed on each side of his mouth as Nat gave her a soft smile, a shallow dimple in his chin. She applied the brakes in the echoing bathroom and left them, after putting the wet shave equipment on the wide cupboard shelf fixed to each side of the low basin.

She soon sat watching them, through the open bathroom door, the hem of her V-neck floaty print dress, the mottled navy blue and crisp white patterned fabric complemented by black stockings. The dress had slipped up, above her knees, that she kept together, the skirt in the hollow of her slender thighs. She looked at Nat, at his reflection in the mirror, as he leant over David, hoped her soft pleas for his company a while longer would be heeded. If he knew she was looking at him he gave no sign of it, concentrated on the task in hand.

"I haven't used one of these since I did it for my dad..." he called out to her, his voice echoing in the small bathroom.

"Now you tell me!" she laughed, moving in the chair to get a better sight of them. She loved to hear him as Nat chattered in his sociable ways of it, worked expertly in lathering David's face before he sharpened the razor on the leather strap.

"I usually do that..." she ventured, wanting something to say and to engage the young man before her once more, as far as she dared. "Once you're through, I'll put David to bed...."

"Fine...whatever works for you both. I won't interfere." Nat soon finished and wiped a face cloth over David's shaved cheeks and chin. He had remained silent throughout. "Not a mark...and I'm glad! Maybe I can do this if work goes off the rails!"

She shared in his laughter, swept away the tumble of her ash-blonde hair, cut in a bob cut and with a lazy parting making it fell on either side of her forehead. "Are you ready to get changed for bed, darlin'....?"

"Yeah, sure...and I'm wanting another sleep pill,' David mumbled. 'They sure help me..."

Frances looked uneasily at him, as David was wheeled back into the bedroom. "You shouldn't take them so often...it breaks up your natural rhythm of sleep, darling."

"I know what I want...and those rhythms, you talk of, are sure wrecked! That happened some time ago," he went on harshly, "now do as I tell you and get me them pills...please!"

Nathan offered a moment's consoling touch to her arm. "Tell me where they are, and I'll get them...."

Frances nodded, smiled at him for his consideration. 'Thank you...the packet's by the kettle. I always give him the pill with some warm water. It helps to get the pill working a little quicker..."

"Leave it to me...."

Frances felt Nathan brush her shoulder as he passed her. "I'll help him get undressed and settle him...."

She worked quickly, felt her hands shaking as she did so, David's ways with her, and in front of Nathan, going beyond how they usually were together, even through tough times. She fussed to make him comfortable, walked to the main bedroom lights control and dimmed them, until the room was lit in a soft warming glow. David could turn on a bedside lamp if it were needed, and an alarm push button control lay on the books stacked beside him along with a wireless intercom dangling from the ornately carved wooden headboard of his wide single bed. She would often wake in the night to hear his laboured breathing or talking incoherently in his sleep.

David lay back on the pillows, his pallid, clean shaven, face drawn as if he was worrying whether he would get to sleep, but his eyes seeming to drill into her.

Frances bent over him, received no reaction to being close to him as she arranged the bedclothes. She pressed her lips to his cheek, close to David's ear.

"I wish you wouldn't talk to me like that...especially in front of Nathan. I'm doing my best for you...I always have."

He answered her as Nathan was heard to draw near once more, the pill packet in hand along with a small glass of warm water. "The pill is what I need most. Soon I'm in another place...completely."

"Without me!" Frances retorted sharply and without a second's thought, her voice breaking to hear him say it so harshly. She bent to kiss David's cheek in what Nathan took to be a perfunctory gesture, the strain between them clear. "Sleep well...enjoy that other place!" She met Nathan's look upon her. "Can I leave you to deal with it...please?"

She had moved to the foot of the bed, and he had joined her. They looked down at David, saw that his eyes were flickering shut.

"Sure...I'll soon be with you." He had fumbled for her hand, felt it trembling before Frances squeezed on it.

"I sure need that...need your company a while longer, darlin'," she whispered in over-familiarity, feeling his clutch on her hand continue, as if to comfort her for the moments that had just passed. "You've seen how it can be for me."

"And you've given me no sign of having to live through such moments..."

She looked away.

"No, but I have now, so help me through it...please? Be with me a while longer...everything feels a little unreal, all of a sudden."

She saw him standing by the water fountain, glass in hand, took her time to consider what she sought of these moments together, her need for solace to be set against what her behaviour might lead to, and if Nat would concede in meeting her in a deviation from all that had gone before between them.

"I never offered you a drink...I got lost in everything else going on." He heard the apology in her soft voice, met Frances's distracted look upon him as she raised a hand to brush away stray strands of her hair as it fell across her forehead. Instinct overcame more considered behaviour as she pressed closer to his side. "He's asleep...the pill he took may help me too.'

"You get the chance to rest..."

"I wish. You've seen how he can be with me. I want it all to be so different..."

"To also feel different for a while?" he prompted, putting an arm about her waist and keeping Frances close to him. She possessed a fleshy warmth, was dressed to catch his eye and he sensed that she wished to devote time to her needs and wishes.

"That too, I can tell you now..." She gulped greedily at the glass of water that he held out to her, reaching across, his arm brushing the front of her dress. "You being here has been a surprise...your help just now just wonderful...kind...it felt you were doing it for me too."

"I was...wanted it that way," he smiled, gazing into her upturned face. "Susan tells me what you go through sometimes...after the two of you talk...I saw and heard it for myself just now."

He loved to see the valley of delight, to see her cleavage, the indolent swell of her breasts that shaped the front of her dress, the hint of her nipples pressing against the fabric. She seemed restless with nervy energy on being so close to him.

"I..I can't get enough of that look of yours on me," she now smiled, her lips trembling. Frances stroked his back before clinging to him, all restraint forsaken. It seemed too easy to be drawn into the maelstrom of emotions that being with him, now, aroused in her, the destructive disloyalty to others. But where could she find solace, or a distraction, but with someone she knew well and was close? She wanted to feel differently, to be taken out of her humdrum and closely bounded world that the walls of her home had become. Would she dare to let go when the moment came?

"I love to feel your warmth Frances...to see those freckles on your skin...breathe in your scent." He said it softly, slid his hand over her hip but resisted the temptation to caress the side of her breast. He ached to do that and to know of her, the temptation to stray and to do that with her unbearably strong.

"I also saw you looking at me and wondered why...wondered what would have brought that on. Is everything okay between you and Susan?"

He pouted a smile as they remained standing shoulder to shoulder, an arm about each other's waist. He refilled the glass and again held it out to her, watched as if in a trance as her lips covered the rim as she drank, the slow slick of her tongue tip over her glistening lips, as he breathed in her scent. If they remained so close it would infuse his shirt and there'd be hell to pay if Susan discovered it. She must know what her mother was going through in that particular respect, the absence of a man to claim her...to really claim her body and mind.

"Yes, things are okay between us, but you and Susan are so very different. I....I..." he hesitated, "I'm taken by you both. Susan has everything under control...she's so ordered...has no real problems in her life..."

"And I've got mine by the barrow load....that's for sure," Frances confessed without undue bitterness as she made to turn away from him, but Nat's embrace upon her tightened and restrained her. "What....?"

She met his stilled look upon her.

"I...I can stay a while...be of help or real comfort. Seeing how you two are with each other made me think...the care and loving is all one way. That's all I'm saying, Frances..."

"It's enough..."

She had felt his breaths to her lips as they stood impossibly close, at the edge of offering a kiss, a deeper admission of what was at work in each of them but the calls on them, by others, acting as a brake on them surrendering to what would be an impetuous concession to their longing for each other.

'Are....are you sure about this?' he asked, his eyes searching hers for an answer.

'Yes...I am.'

Frances gripped the hand at her waist and lifted it slowly to the swell of her breasts, then to one alone, pressed it hard against her body. "Was this...what you wanted from me...what I read into your look on me again just now...what I've taken to thinking of when you're not here...and David's the way you've just seen?"

"Yes...and I don't want to see you break...have what's happening with David destroy you too."

She met his kisses, slow and tender, the touch of tongue tips to the other's lips, the meeting of their gaze upon each other as if searching for agreement that it should happen, for them to pursue all that their kisses could lead to. "You darling! I can't...shouldn't accept that this is the only way..."

"But you will, for both our sakes?"

"You know now that I will..."

The enticing image of this woman naked in his arms now took a hold in him. His fingers brushed over her face, then her lips, before he again bent forward to kiss her, Frances moving his hand to her breasts, encouraging him to squeeze on them and to know the press of her hard nipples against the fabric. Frances shivered, prolonged their deepening open-mouthed kisses and flickering tongues. She ached for a healthy young man and his ways, son-in-law or not. No one would ever know and wayward thoughts or daydreams of Nat possessing her body would be made real. She felt the nagging ache of longing, of lust and anticipation, grip her in drugging waves, the longed-for charge of excitement that David could no longer satisfy.

"I'll do what I can...for you...for you, Frances," he kissed, making her turn so that she could feel him hard against her belly. Frances soon gripped his hips, swayed her body against him or pushed forward, her intentions and desire only too clear.

"You'll do what I want from you...while we have the chance," she kissed, the sudden rush of doubts on whether to go through with it all, and with him again taking a hold, "hurtful and deceitful of others...what it would do to Susan."