Nurse Penny

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Vandemonium1 and CreativityTakesCourage have collaborated again. As per both our natural leanings there are consequences for the wrongdoer, but please be warned if you are a hardcore BTBer you will probably be left wanting. Sorry! Maybe next time!

We hope you will sit back, relax, maybe have a drink, and enjoy a little escapism with us.

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CHAPTER ONE

PENELOPE, OR PENNY as I've always called her, and I have been married for twenty-eight years. Our twenty-eighth year marked an ending but also a beginning. It was the year our third and youngest child started college. We'd just dropped her off. That made us officially empty-nesters.

I wanted to use the opportunity to try to rekindle Penny's and my love life which had waned during the marriage, due mostly to lack of energy and privacy. As working-class people, we have a small house with thin walls, not a huge mansion with nannies and maids.

I thought all was on track for my plan to succeed. As soon as we arrived home, I carried Penny upstairs and, despite her protests of, "Mike! My ass is sore from the trip", and "Let me have a shower first", fucked the shit out of her. She seemed to enjoy it and I hoped it was a foretaste of things to come. After all this time I still loved my wife with a passion, and still lusted after her like a pervert. At forty-eight, she was still a dish.

After I rode her until she came, with my following suit shortly after, we lay back to get our breath. My plan was to recover a little then go again. Show her what our love life could be like now that we had the house to ourselves. I wanted to encourage her to want it near as often as when we first met. Penny, however, was not on the same page and used the opportunity to press her idea of our immediate future.

Penny is a nurse and had been training as such when we met. With time taken off to have babies, then time and money constraints arising from raising them, Penny had remained a general nurse. Over the years she'd seen and commented on many occasions about younger nurses coming in, fresh out of school, doing some basic courses and being promoted away, or even worse, promoted over her. To say she resented it was like saying the Pope was a little Catholic.

In the aftermath of some pretty spectacular sex, I was introduced to what was obviously a well thought out plan on her part.

According to Penny, there was a looming chronic shortage of paediatric nurses at the hospital where she worked. An intense, six-month training course would put Penny in a good position to stay at the same hospital. She knew for a fact that the head nurse in the same department at the town's other hospital was retiring in two-years' time and she'd be in the running for that vacancy.

That, in turn, would put Penny in the prime position to take over from the matron of her current hospital when she was due for retirement in five years. That was the ultimate prize Penny had her eyes on.

She'd done her research and found she could be paid while doing the six-months of training so wouldn't be a burden on my modest income, then her enhanced salary would help us toward our goal of retiring at sixty with a comfortable bank account.

I looked at Penny, marvelling at this new-found ambition on her part. It was like seeing her for the first time; scary and exciting. I realised my wife was still able to surprise me.

And scare me.

With evidence that much thought had gone into it, I wondered why I was only hearing about it for the first time right now. Why hadn't she used me as a sounding board? Asked my help? Why had she kept these hopes, dreams, and plans from me? Hadn't I always encouraged her?

Even now, with a kernel of concern growing in my gut, I leaned toward encouraging her dream. That is, until the reason for her reticence was revealed. The only place Penny could do the course was in another state, an hour and $250 flight away.

"Six months. That's a long time, Pen. Is there nothing closer? Do they offer an online course?"

"No, they don't and it's not that long a time. It will fly by. In times of war couples did it all the time. Hell, they went years with only letters to sustain them. And surely we can afford for you to fly up once a month?"

I remained silent, running questions and answers through my mind.

Before I could voice any objections, or even ask more questions, Penny snapped at me, "Christ, Mike, don't be such a chauvinist."

That got my hackles up; I'd never been a chauvinist. Not with her, and not with our daughters. I was so offended I almost missed the rest of her outcry.

"If this was about you and your career, I would be expected by the whole damn world to support and encourage you but because I'm a woman, you're making out I'm being selfish for wanting you to support me in my dream."

Selfish? When had I even had the chance to make such an accusation? I'd hardly had a chance to put a word in. I took a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm. Getting angry wasn't going to get either of us anywhere.

"Pen, I'm not being selfish, nor accusing you of it. I'm just trying to get my head around it all. You've clearly given this a great deal of thought over an extended period of time whereas I've had all of ten minutes."

Penny immediately looked contrite. Her tone went from strident to neutral as she explained things further.

By staying in student nurse digs and working at the teaching hospital, the drain on our retirement funds would be minimised. Penny flying home within the six months was probably impractical, given how busy she would be, but it wasn't unreasonable that I could fly up every month or so to spend the weekend together.

It all sounded so reasonable, but I have to say, the divide between my plans for the near future and Penny's threw me and, I think, in hindsight, made me vulnerable. Penny began nibbling my ear, initiating a welcome round two, and effectively silenced any questions I might still have.

Ask any sex-starved bloke. They'll say yes to just about anything in those circumstances. I said yes to Penny attending the next course.

The last bombshell came when she climbed on board for a gallop; the course commenced the following week.

In the aftermath, my well-thought out questions meant nothing; I'd already agreed, remember? I felt manipulated.

Penny departed after a flurry of activity. She was like a kid heading off to their first camp. She was so excited she barely remembered to kiss me goodbye.

I'm embarrassed to say I struggled to establish a new routine. I hadn't needed to think about what I would be doing in my leisure time for years. I was guilty of leaving the planning of our social lives to Penny. As long as she allocated time for my side of the family, I was happy for her to take charge of that aspect of our life. I wasn't alone in that. I knew the same applied to most of the guys I worked with. Between Penny and the kids most evenings and weekends had been filled with things Penny had organised and committed us to, or my getting on with the have-to's of life like mowing lawns, washing cars, and running kids to and from sporting events.

Now, from six in the evening when I got home from work, to ten or eleven at night, I was lonely and bored. It wasn't that I was used to going out all the time, because we'd certainly never been like that, but now there was no one to comment to when the newsreader informed us of yet another stupid mistake made by one of our politicians or to hold hands and laugh with as we watched one of our favourite shows. I even missed giving Penny's feet a rub.

The first week Penny was gone we spoke nightly for about thirty minutes. I must admit to wondering if she'd factored our escalating phone bill into all her planning and budgeting. I must also confess to feeling jealous. She was clearly busy and enjoying the new challenge. She dominated our conversations with all her news. Her excitement was palpable. Names of people I didn't know got thrown nonchalantly in. It made me feel excluded; like I had no place in this phase of her life.

Having said that, our conversations always ended quite lovey-dovey and gave me hope. Perhaps, absence would make our hearts fonder so that when she returned we could go with my plans about rekindling our sex life.

As early as the second week, our thirty-minute nightly calls reduced to twenty minutes duration because Penny said she needed to study and our conversations got her out of her nursing mindset. That hurt. I was now relegated to an intrusion. I tried to always end our calls on a loving note but by the end of the week it felt somewhat one-sided. Regardless, I tried to remain encouraging and supportive, keeping my frustrations and loneliness to myself.

By the third week she asked that we only call each other every second night and, oddly, suggested she be the one to call me, not the other way around. That way, she said, I wouldn't be interrupting her at inconvenient times.

By the fourth week I received only two calls. I tried to be understanding; she had her first major assignment due and was on evening shift, but it was hard. I was grateful that come the weekend I'd be flying up to see her. I missed her. I missed us.

Fate had other ideas. My planned trip had to be cancelled at the last moment as Penny said there'd been a flu outbreak and the hospital was overrun with patients. It was all able bodies to the coal face at the teaching hospital.

That weekend did pay some dividend though. While fuelling up, I ran into an old mate of mine who I'd drifted away from over the years. He, and a bunch of his mates, played poker at a local pub every Saturday night. He invited me to join them and considering I was sick of being at a loose end and forgotten by my wife, I went along. They were a nice group. We played a few friendly hands in the back room, then retired to the bar for some relaxing ales.

After years of having my social life consisting of neighbourhood BBQs, small local family-style bistros, and child-centred events, the pub was a bit of an eye-opener.

I was quite stunned by the number of apparently single ladies my age or slightly younger, who boldly came up to me and, quite frankly, tried to pick me up. Funny how you forget that sort of thing goes on in bars after a few years of wedded bliss and nappies.

It took three Saturdays, and I'll admit, a bunch of other days of the week when it was clear Penny wasn't phoning that night, before being hit on became a regular enough experience to not be passed off as a coincidence. I asked my mate Geoff what the deal was.

"Mike, you really have been out of circulation, haven't you? Have you not noticed that by our age the single women already outnumber the single men noticeably? What you're seeing are the widows, the dumped-for-a-younger-model, the kicked-the-middle-aged-cheating-prick-outs."

"But why me?"

"Crikey, Mike. You've been married so long that your confidence as a man is intrinsically linked to what your wife thinks and says. Look in the mirror then look around you, mate. You're better looking than most and because of your physical job, you're still lean and muscled. You don't have a wife riding shotgun on you and you're not at home with kids. Mate, if you were to take off that wedding ring you'd get laid within two hours without having used one chat-up line or bought so much as a single drink."

I looked around, noting more than one hungry look. Geoff followed my gaze.

"I'm not looking to cheat on Penny, Geoff."

"I realise that, but let's just say, for the point of the exercise, that you are on the market. If I were you, I'd avoid the overly aggressive ones. They're dressed to kill tonight to find a man. Shit, I hate to say it but I reckon half of them are married and out for a quick fling. To be fair, though, the same probably applies to half the guys in here as well.

Now check out that table over there." Geoff indicated a table with a downcast looking forty-something woman, surrounded by five friends. "The sad looking one has probably just been traded in for a younger model and is out being consoled by her friends. In a matter of weeks she'll be back, looking to have a few quick hook-ups to reassure herself she's still attractive and the fault was all her ex-husband's, or out for some weird revenge thing. If you want a quick fuck, come back then or don't flash your wedding ring the next time one of the predators comes over. It all depends on what you want. If you're looking for something longer term, then check out that table over there."

Geoff pointed to a table with four ladies around my age on it. They were laughing and having a good time. From what I could see it looked like two of them were wearing wedding rings, two were not. As we watched, three of them glanced around the room.

"Now, that's where I would look if I was single. They're a bunch of work friends out for a good time together. Two are married, but one won't let that stop her. The other two are single but not desperate. They might take advantage of an opportunity but won't go looking for it."

At that moment my cell phone pinged with an incoming message from Penny apologising and explaining she was working and couldn't get a break long enough to call me. I tried to be thankful that she'd bothered to text, but it was a struggle. With calls and messages getting fewer and further between the longer she was away, it was hard to feel grateful. But, hey, at least she'd even remembered to sign off with a quick, 'love you.' That was an improvement on her last two texts. I replied with a quick 'love you too,' before looking at Geoff to continue.

"Okay, I'll prove I'm right. Take off your ring, then go to the part of bar nearest that table to order a drink."

I did as he suggested. As I leaned against the counter, waiting for service, I kept a lookout from the corner of my eye. My elbows hadn't been resting on the bar top for more than sixty seconds before one of the married ones jumped up, stuffing her ring in her pocket as she approached. She quite boldly asked if she could buy me a drink, but lost interest as soon as I told her I was married. I must admit I also told her that I'd just seen her take off her wedding ring. She had the decency to blush. The rest of her table were watching and before she even made it back, one of the single ones was on her way over.

She reached me just as the barman was taking my order, then waited as my drink was delivered before giving her order. I glanced back at their table to see all the glasses were at least half full, so wasn't surprised when my new bar mate said hello and made polite conversation. A quick glance told me she wasn't really my type and my body language must have given me away because she soon returned to her table with a round of drinks.

I resumed sipping my drink, waiting for Geoff to return from the Gents so I could tell him just how right he was, when I heard a soft, "Hi" from behind me. I turned to see the second single lady from the table looking at me confidently. With my new-found insight into the single scene, I guessed she was creating an opportunity but wouldn't be devastated if nothing came of it.

Now, had I been single this one would have been my type. Her age was hard to gauge. She could have been anything from my age to five to ten years younger than me. Attractive, slim but not unhealthily so, hair a soft honey-blonde that curled around her face, and a genuine smile. I did check out her ring finger but saw no shadow, then looked at my own. Because of my job, I pretty much only wore my ring when going out, so I was shadowless as well.

Tradition demanded I offer to buy her a drink.

"No need," she said, holding up her glass and gently tilting it this way and that before taking a sip.

She had an air of self-assurance that was attractive. She was clearly a woman comfortable in her own skin. We then began an easy conversation about anything and everything.

Ten minutes in, I just had to admit that I was actually married but wasn't wearing my ring. I could have lied about where it was and why it was in my pocket, but something drove me to be totally honest with Andrea, which the attractive blonde's name turned out to be.

She quizzed me on my behaviour, which, on the face of it, was slimy and dishonest.

"Hey, in my defence one of your friends approached me not twenty minutes ago. She was so blatant she didn't even try to be subtle about taking off her rings and shoving them in her pocket."

"That would be Carol. She's not actually my friend. I only met her tonight. She came with Sue, who is my friend. They work together. To be honest, I couldn't believe it when I saw it either. Makes you feel kind of sorry for her husband, doesn't it?"

I nodded. "Just so you know, I didn't remove mine because I want to score but because I am testing out my mate, Geoff's, theory about women our age frequenting bars."

Andrea had a great chuckle when I explained Geoff's theories in detail. She actually agreed with him in the main.

The conversation flowed from there to Penny.

"My wife's nearly two months in on a six-month training course out of state, and I hate to admit it, but I feel kind of lost without her."

"You must miss her."

I nodded. "Very much. She's busy between the work and the study and so we don't even get to talk much. That's how I ended up coming here. I'm sick of sitting alone and staring at the four walls of our living room alone."

"So, just looking for company? No pick-ups or one-night stands then?"

I was somewhat shocked by her forthright questions.

"No. I'm a one-woman man. But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy some female companionship and conversation."

Andrea obviously approved of my answer.

"Well, then, let's keep talking!"

Andrea was extremely easy to talk to. She explained how she and her husband had put so much into their children as they grew that when the nest was empty, they were practically strangers. They'd decided on an amicable split half a year ago and Andrea was enjoying her freedom but if the right guy came along, she wasn't ruling out a relationship.

We ended up chatting for well over an hour. Finally, it became obvious her friends were leaving. I could see Andrea debating whether to stay or not, but finally decided to head off. The fact that she even considered staying I took as a compliment as knowing a relationship with me wasn't on the cards, she must have simply been enjoying my company and conversation. That was refreshing after Penny's rebuffs.

The phone calls to Penny became even rarer and shorter. We were down to five to ten minutes twice a week. I consciously developed a new relaxed attitude to life, in part to preserve my sanity. There was no point railing; Penny wasn't interested. The couple of times I mentioned waning calls she told me to stop being such a baby and to quit trying to make life difficult for her with my guilt trips. Wasn't she in the same boat? Didn't she have a lot on her plate already without my whining? My protests, denying I was whining and merely stating facts went unheard and in punishment, I didn't hear from her for five days.

I refused to be miserable. And I was sick of feeling frustrated and powerless and at Penny's whim, so I began going to the bar several times a week to just chat to people and be sociable.

It wasn't 'convenient' for me to visit Penny the following week as she had assignments due. That hurt. We'd been apart for ten weeks and I was 'inconvenient.' I felt taken for granted. She was clearly making little to no effort to make time for me, for us. She hadn't even bothered asking what I was up to in our last three calls.

The next week when she claimed to be suffering from a heavy period and not in the mood to welcome me, I wasn't surprised. The following night I broke protocol and phoned her cell. It was answered by one of her fellow student nurse housemates who told me Penny had taken some sleeping pills and gone to bed, leaving her phone with her friend for peace.