Mother Road Ch. 04 - Journey's End

As Beverly and I were regaling the ladies with shared tales of our wild times in Chicago, Warren seemed to get quieter and quieter. Finally, he pushed his chair away from the table and announced, "I have to go," then walked straight out the door. We all exchanged shocked glances, but it didn't take me long to figure out what was bothering Warren.

Looking at a horror-struck Beverly, I assured her and the other women, "Ladies, you go ahead and enjoy the meal, I'll check on Warren."

I ran out the door and saw a tall Warren-shape walking half a block away. Damn, with those long legs the guy could really haul ass. He was headed down the street towards a place I knew well - Millennium Park. This is where I used to come and watch the families, dreaming of having a family of my own.

"WARREN, WAIT UP, MAN," I yelled at him several times. He didn't stop, but his pace mercifully slowed. Finally, I got close enough to give it one more try, barely able to catch my breath, "Come ON, Warren, goddammit, hold the fuck up! Your legs are too damned long, I can't catch you!"

Spotting a park bench, I plopped down on it, wheezing, gasping for air. So much for my cardio fitness. Warren stopped and turned to look at me, which was a good sign. I waved him over, and he slowly walked back.

Something opened up his reticent floodgates, "Tom, I'm calling Beverly tomorrow and canceling the wedding," he said, "I mean, I'm not you, am I? I'm not funny, I can't tell stories, I don't have a bunch of happy memories with Beverly, I'll never be good enough. I know the other staffers at the Art Institute call me 'scarecrow' behind my back. To them I'm just the tall freak that lurks in the hallways, like the Phantom of the Opera."

Wow. I needed to act fast before things really went sideways. Getting my breath back, I launched into my speech, Ava-style.

"Warren, this is all bullshit. Ava's told me about you, how you're a very smart guy with a dry sense of humor. How you're very kind and how at work your team respects you. Ava happens to be an excellent judge of people. So all that shit you said about being a freak, that's probably just your insecurity talking. Kick it to the fucking curb, man!

Ava told me it was Beverly that first asked you out, not the other way around. Let me tell you, buddy, the Beverly I know is VERY picky. If she asked YOU out, dude, that really says something right there. Plus, she's agreed to marry you! You're as rare as a blue diamond!"

Warren wasn't saying anything, but I could tell he was processing what I was telling him.

"Look, Warren, I know my being here feels weird to you. Believe me, it feels ever weirder to me, but it's cool. Hell, YOU'RE cool!

Laura and I are here because Beverly is a good friend to our family, especially Ava and Ashley. I'm hoping you'll be a friend to them as well. These girls are smart, but they're still so damned young. Laura and I will both feel better knowing there's an extra set of eyes watching out for them." He nodded slowly, taking it in. Good man.

I continued, "I understand it's weird that Beverly and I were married, but damn it, man, that was a lot of years ago. That page has long since turned. We don't have romantic feelings for each other, that door has long been closed. And in case you hadn't noticed, I'm crazy in love with that wonderful, smart, caring and beautiful woman back there who's carrying my son."

Keeping his eyes on the ground he didn't say anything, but he nodded again in agreement. My message was slowly getting through. Good! Time to swing for the fences.

"Warren, I'm telling you as one guy who cares about Beverly to the one that loves her, this is not a damned contest! You're not competing with me. Frankly, seven years ago, dude, I failed. It took being married to Laura for seven years to teach me what makes a marriage work. I'm still learning new things practically every day.

No, you're not me, Warren and that's a good thing! I don't mind telling you that you're better for Beverly than I was. I'm asking you to do what I couldn't do - make it work, man. Make that woman happy! Be an active husband, stay connected and become the man she needs you to be. She deserves it.

This may sound strange, but I love knowing Beverly is happy. When we split, Beverly and I didn't harbor bad feelings towards each other. I care about her and want her to feel about you the way I feel about my wife.

Laura's the perfect spouse for me. The past few years have been the best of my life. Now YOU can be the perfect spouse for Beverly, I know you can!" I held out my hand. "It's plain how much you love Beverly. Come on, Warren! Don't you want that?"

He reached down and grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet. "Yeah," his deep voice rumbled, "I do."

We walked back to the restaurant. The four women were talking, nervous looks on their faces - except for Laura, who somehow had confidence in me that I'd make it right. When we approached the table, Beverly stood up and embraced the tall man. "Is everything all right, Warren?"

He gave her a little kiss, "Yeah, I just had pre-wedding jitters, I guess. Everything's fine."

"He's lying," I blurted out angrily, "everything's NOT fine!" Everyone's eyes went wide, expecting some horrible revelation. I continued, "Warren and I just tried fishing off Navy Pier and couldn't catch a fucking thing!"

The girls all laughed, Warren even smiled, and I gave him a thumbs-up. When everyone else was momentarily distracted by a waiter with the dessert tray, Beverly caught my eye and silently mouthed 'thank you'. I winked and nodded.

After dinner when we said our goodnights, I told Ava and Ashley to go on ahead, that Momma and I would catch a cab and be along shortly. There was somewhere I wanted to take her before calling it a night.

"Come on, Laura, I want to show you something." I hailed a cab and had him take us to the intersection of Jackson Drive and Lake Shore Drive. We got out, and I asked Laura to stand in front of a street signpost while I took a picture of her.

"Tom, we're standing on a busy street corner surrounded by traffic. What exactly did you want me to see here?" I pointed at the shield-shaped sign above her head that read, 'Historic Illinois Route 66 BEGIN'. Wrapping her in my arms, I kissed her a long time before answering.

"This is sacred ground to me, sweetheart. I've come full-circle; the last time I was here I had no idea it was the starting point on the road that led me to you."

The ceremony the next day was small but lovely. Beverly looked long and tall and lovely, and standing next to Warren they looked like the perfect couple. Beverly's parents were shocked to see me there and seemed a little put out by my presence. When I introduced Laura, she quickly smoothed things over, explaining what a debt we owed to their daughter for taking care of ours. They seemed to relax after that. My Laura, the diplomat.

After the ceremony I gave Beverly a kiss on the cheek, and hugged Warren. For once, I didn't have a damned thing to say.

That night in bed, Laura and I lay spooning. I reached around with my left hand and caressed her breasts for a while, then moved down to her belly. She sighed with pleasure. "Have I told you that you're the best husband ever?"

I kissed her naked shoulder, "You may have mentioned it in passing." I moved my hand down and cupped the folds between her legs. "I don't know if you noticed, but I'm also the horniest husband ever. It's not my fault though, I have this wife who's extremely fuckable, I have no power to resist her."

I kissed her between her shoulder blades, then moved up to the back of her neck. I could feel warm moisture increasing beneath my hand. Her breathing became a bit more rapid.

"Your wife is also extremely fertile," she gasped, "yet you keep putting your baby-maker in her." She lifted her left leg, and I slid my hardness in her.

As I begin to gently move in and out of her, I hoarsely whisper, "I really don't see that as being a problem."

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OCTOBER - Sometimes The Dream Is Not The Same

I'm dreaming my Laura dream again, except this time, it's not a dream. She's crying out in pain as the contractions are happening, hammering her fist on the bed. Olivia has come from Wichita to watch her siblings at home while Laura gives birth to her new brother; our eldest daughter helps me load her mother into the Ford and drive to the hospital birthing center.

After eleven hours of labor, we reach the part in the dream where I'm finally holding our tiny new son in my arms, I lean over to kiss my exhausted wife and tell her how much I love her.

Instead of asking me for a double cheeseburger like in the dream, she takes my free hand, kisses it and says, "Tom, if you want us to keep having sex, I think it's time to reschedule that vasectomy."