Pat and Marianne

I was prepared to sleep in the guest room, but Marianne asked me how I felt having her in my bed.

I kissed her, "It's OK. I think Terri would approve."

"Really?"

"Really. So tomorrow. I have to drive over to White River Junction. Twenty minutes round trip. I'll be gone about an hour and a half, two hours. Do you want to come or stay here?"

"Rita said I could come over a visit. I think I'll take her up on it. She's so nice."

"Very well. Those two have really looked out for me."

"Pat?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you think we can make this work?"

"I think that's a better question for you. It sounds like you don't want to live in Florida, but could you live here? Or would we need to find a different place to live? How's your daughter going to take all of this? An even bigger question: Can you put up with me?"

Marianne leaned in and kissed me, "You make yourself out to be this difficult person, but I think you're a pretty easy going guy. I can deal with your occasional nightmare. I really like being around you Pat. I feel like I belong. As for the house, it is lovely. If you let me move in with you and I can bring some of my things, I think I can really enjoy living here."

"You didn't answer the Maria question."

She hung her head, "I don't know."

I took her in my arms, "If you don't mind me saying. I do believe that I have fallen in love with you again, Miss Thorborg."

She threw her arms around my neck and we fell back onto the bed.

Marianne imitated Mark's Vermont accent, "Well Cap'n, I think the feeling's mutual."

Our love making that night was as intense as it had ever been. I nestled between her legs and focused on bringing her to an extended orgasm. I had her cumming for quite a while. I finally entered her, but I quickly grew weary. I rolled on my back, pulling her on top of me to give her control. Marianne worked me to an intense orgasm.

_ _ _ _ _

I awoke to the smell of coffee. Marianne must be in the kitchen. I jumped through the shower to be as clean as possible for my dermatologist. Marianne prepared bacon and eggs for me then saw me off.

Dr. Ellis, my dermatologist, found a spot on the right side of my face that she was concerned about. She took a biopsy and said I would get the results sometime in the next week. I was really getting sick of medical stuff.

On the way home I stopped by the I.G.A. and picked up some things for lunch and dinner. I also got a gift certificate to a fancy restaurant in Burlington and a thank you card for my neighbors.

When I got home, Rita and Marianne were talking over coffee at my kitchen table. I went off to the garden and brought in more vegetables than I could eat in a month. I set them aside to take to the food bank.

Rita finally left and Marianne came and joined me in the library. "If you will have me, I'd like to be your housemate."

"I'd love to have you."

"I don't want to miss the foliage. I want to go back to Florida and settle things as quickly as possible. We can have movers take the couple of things I want to bring here and then we can have an estate agent sell the rest. I'll put the house up for sale. Then we can drive my car back."

"That sounds like a plan. How much stuff will you bring?"

"Not many things. Mostly things from my kids and grandkids. A couple of mementoes from my travels. I have an old chest of drawers that was Oma's."

"We'll have to have that."

"I'll ask Maria and Patrick if there is anything they want. I'm thinking two or three days to take care of everything and then we can drive back. At least we're past the hot part of the year."

"Can you fix things with Maria in two or three days?"

"Once she meets you, I'm sure everything will be fine."

Somehow I didn't think things would be that easy.

_ _ _ _ _

We flew out on the first flight on Saturday morning. When we arrived at Jacksonville, Marianne hired an Uber to get us to her house. Since we had been up since three, we decided a nap was in order, plus some heavy snuggling.

When we woke up we had an early lunch then I helped Marianne sort the things that she was going to take to Vermont with her. She called and left a message with her children that she was back in town and to please contact her. Patrick returned her call immediately. He had flown to Roosevelt Roads in Puerto Rico on a detachment. He could tell her what they were doing when he got back, probably mid-week.

We got some U-Haul boxes and packed up her papers and a bunch of books that she wanted. It actually wasn't a lot of stuff. She put aside her bound copy of her manuscript detailing David's transgressions. I was packing things on her kitchen table.

Marianne sat down next to me, "When I first made this decision I thought I would be sad getting rid of things. It's actually just the opposite. I am feeling quite relieved."

"I remember when my Pop downsized after my mother died. He said the same thing. It is an interesting philosophical question -- Are we slaves to our stuff?"

"That's just how I think of you -- Patrick Sullivan, philosopher."

By two that afternoon we had finished separating and packing. She had a few items that would need to be professionally packed, but relatively speaking, there wasn't a lot of things. She tried calling Maria again, but again it went to voicemail.

We lounged around on the deck surrounding her pool for the rest of the afternoon, then went to a very nice steakhouse for dinner. Sunday was more of the same. This time for dinner we found an excellent seafood spot down by the beach. By the time we got back, the sun had set.

Marianne opened the front door, "How would you like to take a dip in the pool with me."

"I don't have a suit."

"Neither do I."

"Well, in that case I would love to take a dip with you."

We went to her room and stripped down to nothing. She handed me a robe, just in case we needed it, and we headed to the pool. The only lights were the underwater spots. I dropped the robe and dove in. Marianne waited for me to surface and made sure I was watching her.

She was in full seduction mode. She dropped the robe then walked to the stairs. Turning to face me, she very slowly entered the pool. I thought just how lucky I was to be with such a beautiful woman.

I was in shoulder deep water. Marianne walked all the way over to me. She placed her hands behind my neck and wrapped her legs around my waist. I could feel her soft pubes pressing into my stomach as she gently kissed me.

She ran her fingers through my wet hair, "Do you remember skinny dipping at the lake that summer?"

"I was just thinking of that same evening."

"Do you remember what else we did?"

"Well, let's see, I know we made love in the lifeguard shack."

"Before we went into the water I gave you the first blow job where I actually knew what I was doing."

"That's right didn't your grandmother teach you?"

"Yes, Oma showed me how to please a man by using dildos as a teaching device. I think when we get out I want to please you again."

"I can't argue with that."

Marianne pressed her open mouth to mine. I held her as we necked.

She broke the kiss, "I always wondered how a sexually liberated woman like Oma raised a prude like my mother."

"I imagine that your grandmother probably taught your mother things like how to give a blow job, but somehow your mother rebelled against those ideas."

"You're probably right."

I gave her a quick kiss, "So not to change the subject, but what do you plan on doing with Maria?"

"I'll give her a call tomorrow morning and then tomorrow afternoon we'll just drive over."

"How far away does she live?"

"About twenty minutes. In the meantime. Would you like to receive your blow job out here or in the comfort of my bed?"

"Which would be more comfortable for you?"

"My bed."

"There's your answer."

_ _ _ _ _

I awoke on Monday morning to the smell of coffee. Marianne was definitely an early riser. We had a nice breakfast together and we started planning our day. About nine o'clock my phone rang. It was the VA Clinic back in Vermont. That wasn't a good sign.

"Hello Captain Sullivan?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"This is Doctor Ellis. Is there any chance you can come in today? I want to look at the side of your face again.

"I'm down in Florida at the moment."

I looked over at Marianne and she must have overheard the other side of the conversation. Her face was white.

"When do you plan on flying back?'

Marianne said, "This afternoon."

I put my hand where I thought the receiver might be, "I don't have to go right away."

She became adamant, "This afternoon."

I pulled my hand away from the phone, "Hi Doc. My partner is insisting that I fly up this afternoon. I can be there first thing in the morning."

"Great. I just put you down for an 8 AM appointment. See you then."

"Okay. Till then."

I pushed 'End'. Marianne already had her laptop opened.

I touched her arm, "It's no big deal, Sweetheart."

"Patrick Sullivan! There is no way in hell I am going to lose you again. Certainly not to melanoma. I love you too much to allow that to happen." She looked at her laptop. "Here's a 2 PM flight going through Newark. It gets in at 8 tonight."

I handed her my credit card and just like that I was booked.

Marianne was in planning mode. "That means I need to get you there by noon. It will be an hour drive. So we have about thirty minutes before we need to leave."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I am."

She took my hand and led me to the bedroom. Soon we in the throes of a passionate love making session. The intensity that we shared that morning was as powerful as anything that had occurred between us up to that point.

As we approached ecstasy I heard, "OH MY GOD MOTHER! YOU ARE SUCH A SLUT!"

What the hell was that? I looked up at Marianne and her face bore a combination of shock and anger. I looked over and saw a young woman turn and leave the room.

Marianne screamed, "MARIA!"

She was off me like a shot, scrambling to throw on some clothes. I heard car tires screech outside. Marianne ran from the room and the front door slammed.

I heard the front door slam again as she came back inside.

Marianne came and leaned in the doorway. Tears were streaming down her face. I walked over and held her. She buried her face into my naked chest and began shaking. Her chest heaved as sobs surged through her body.

In my typical fashion, I didn't have a clue what to do. I just petted her hair as we stood there for several minutes. She finally looked up and took my face in her hands.

She gently touched her lips to mine. "I didn't tell you how thrilled I was when you referred to me as your partner when you were talking to the doctor."

"I guess that's how I've come to think of you. Am I wrong?"

"No. You're absolutely right. We probably need to get going. I'll swing by Maria's after I drop you off."

I got dressed and threw my dirty clothes in my bag. Soon we were on our way. I still didn't know what to say. I figured Marianne would open up if she wanted.

When we got onto the interstate she began talking. "When Maria called me a slut I had a flashback to my mother. How dare she just walk into my house? I don't care if she has a key. See that's something that David would do. Just walk in, probably hoping to find something."

Her jaw was set and her knuckles were white from gripping the wheel so tight.

I said, "Would you like me to drive?"

"No. I'm okay."

"Pardon my saying so, but you don't seem alright."

She took the next exit and we switched.

She reached over and touched my arm. "Thanks for looking out for me."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No. I need to think out how I'm going to deal with Maria."

I drove the remaining way in silence. I pulled up outside departures.

Marianne came around and hugged me a tight as ever. "Thank you for being my partner too."

"You're welcome."

I kissed her and she held my face to hers.

She leaned back finally. "Text me when you're safe on the ground. Please call me tonight. I'll let you know how things went."

After one last kiss she jumped in the car and was off.

_ _ _ _ _

When I landed at Newark I sent Marianne a short text: Safe on deck -- EWR, using the airport code.

A couple minutes later I received the following: I had a long talk with Maria. She convinced me that we're moving too fast and that we need to put on the brakes. She pointed out that I really didn't take hers and Patrick's feelings into consideration. Please don't call me. I need to figure a lot of things out.

WHAT THE FUCK!

I immediately tried to call her, but it went to voicemail. I tried again. Since my flight was boarding I left what was probably a testy message.

_ _ _ _ _

My mind was a mess. By the time I got home that evening I was hurt, angry, and confused. How could she go from calling me her partner to saying we needed to put on the brakes that quickly? I thought I was going crazy.

When I got in the house I was in the full throes of grief again. I was not in a good place mentally. My house wasn't helping at all. Not only did I have all the memories of Terri there, but now I had memories of Marianne. My emotional wounds were open and bleeding. I decided I needed to sleep in one of the guest rooms.

I didn't sleep well. I'm not too sure whether I got more than an hour or two of shut-eye. I was up at five. I drove to the VA Center, but I was two hours early. I stopped off at a diner and had a light breakfast.

Dr. Ellis didn't help things very much. She told me that she wanted to schedule surgery to remove a small spot on my face. Small being about a half inch. That didn't sound small to me. She didn't want to wait too long. The earliest I could get in was five weeks from now. Now I would have scars on either side of my face. I guess it was better than the alternative.

With that wonderful news I drove home. One thing for certain, I needed to get out of my house. I needed to get away -- away from everything.

I remembered an old shipmate, Pete Saugus lived outside of Farmington, Maine. He owned a series of wilderness cabins that he rented out. He always invited me to come see him in his Christmas cards. I decided to take him up on it.

I stopped by and told Rita and Mark my plans. Mark said to bring plenty of warm clothes and extra provisions because winter came early to that part of Maine.

I talked to our local postmistress and arranged to have my mail forwarded to general delivery in Carrabassett, the closest town to Pete's cabins. I made sure my bills were paid for the next month and I drove off that afternoon.

_ _ _ _ _

I realized when I arrived at Pete's shop that I hadn't called him. Nevertheless, he was overjoyed to see me. He said he did have one empty cabin. The rest were rented by hunters. He gave me a vest of international orange to keep from getting shot. I stayed with him that night and the next morning he drove me up to the trailhead near Carrabassett. He set me up with a lightweight, modern-day version of a Mormon handcart that he said would be just the thing to get my provisions in.

The trek in took about six hours, but part of that was because I had missed a turn. It was down-leaf season and I could see quite a ways into the woods. The leaves coating the forest floor muffled any sound. I became quite attuned to my surroundings.

I had planned on doing some writing, perhaps start in on my memoires, but basic survival became a primary objective. Chopping wood, catching fish to supplement my provisions, cooking, and cleaning took almost all my time. I settled in to a difficult, but distracting routine.

I found the physical labor of chopping wood to be a great way of centering my mind. With each swing of the axe I could feel the stress and anger leave me. When I was a newly minted Naval Aviator I was in these woods twice. Once for Winter Survival school and once for SERE school. SERE school is essentially training for the possibility of being a prisoner of war.

I had been out in the woods for about ten days and was feeling good about myself. I had a weather radio that I could get reports from if I climbed to the top of the nearest hill. The forecast said 'significant' snow was due in three days so I thought it would be prudent to resupply. I left before dawn the next morning and trekked into town. I loaded down my cart with supplies and collected a fistful of mail from the post office. I had to hurry to get back to the cabin before nightfall so I stashed the mail in a container. I made it back in late twilight. I prepared a quick meal and collapsed in exhaustion.

My weary body must have needed the rest because I didn't wake up until late morning. After breakfast, I finally got around to reading my mail. There were a couple of bills that I wrote checks for and planned to mail on my next trip. Then I saw a letter in Marianne's familiar hand. It was postmarked ten days ago.

I really wasn't in the mood to read it so I went out and chopped more wood. By this time I had enough wood chopped to last at least a month. I just kept chopping. After about an hour, I finally went in and opened the letter.

Jacksonville, Florida

My dearest Pat,

I am so sorry. First, you need to know that I did not send any texts that you might have received after you left Jacksonville. Maria hijacked my phone and took over. I didn't find out about that or your phone calls until later.

Let me tell you about that afternoon. When I arrived at her house we had a good old-fashioned shouting match. Maria's points: I should still be in mourning for her father. I should not be dishonoring our family by continuing to see you. I was a slut for sleeping with you. I was a whore for having an affair with you all these years. If I didn't see things her way, she would cut off all contact with me and I wouldn't see the grandkids.

My points: She was an ignorant girl who didn't know anything. It was her father who was having the affairs -- plural -- not me. She had no right to tell me how to live my life. I had been faithful to her father for my entire marriage. If she decided to cut me off from contact with her children, then I would disown her and she wouldn't receive a penny in inheritance when I died. Nor would she receive any financial assistance like I have been providing over the years.

After about an hour or more of shouting my granddaughter Lily came in and asked if she could show me something she had made for me. I welcomed the break from the shouting, but I had my phone in my purse and that was left where Maria could find it.

After spending time with Lily and Emmie, I had another argument with Maria. I left quite exasperated.

I got home that evening and found that everything about you was deleted from my phone -- text history, call history, your phone number, even pictures. I immediately called Maria and demanded to know what she deleted and why and she wouldn't tell me. She proclaimed that she had proudly destroyed my connection to you.

I recovered your phone number from an old email, but you never answered the phone.

Shit! I bet I never took it out of airplane mode!

I have been in a panic ever since. It is now Thursday and I have exhausted all means of contacting you. I called Rita and she said you had gone off to visit an old shipmate who lived in the Maine woods. Patrick returned from a detachment yesterday and he has been helping me. I am going to fly to Vermont on Sunday and hopefully I can find you.

I keep reaching back to that long ago, magical summer. Oh, how I wish I had been stronger. That I had had the courage to stand up to my mother. That I had had the courage to follow my heart and be with you. Alas, I was weak. My weakness led to a life of pain and misery. A life of sadistic abuse. The only good to come of it are my beautiful children and now one of them has betrayed me.