Pathways Ch. 07-08

I drove the twenty minutes back to the cottage as slowly as I could. We didn't talk at all, both of us thinking about what we had said to each other a few minutes earlier. There was a sense of commitment that was new to me. My feelings about this young woman were completely different than any I had experienced before. But in fairness, I had known Bernie much longer than any other girlfriend.

I knew we weren't the same people that we were in the past, but some things don't change. Bernie was my best friend back then. We knew each other like brother and sister. There was never anything sexual about it. It was like hanging out with Boner, or Stu, Tony or Black Jack. When all that changed, when Bernie became a real girl, when she became beautiful, everything was different. I thought it was over. I thought she was lost to me. Now she was telling me it hadn't been over. All I'd had to do was talk to her. But I was such a retard that I didn't even try. Sometimes, guys like me get lucky. This day, this month, was my hot-damndest lucky time.

"Are the Flemings back from their latest trip?" Bernie asked with a smile.

"No ... no they aren't," I said, hoping I knew what she was really asking. "Would you like to come in? I've got some coffee ... or tea ... or something."

"I might have some 'or something,'" she smiled, leaning in and kissing me as we stood beside my car.

I got a grip on myself and unlocked the cottage door, ushering her in. I'd left a table lamp on when we left for the restaurant. It provided more than enough light. She didn't need a coat that evening. The air was still warm from another hot August day. I was trying to decide what to do next when Bernie took matters into her own hands. She stepped into me, wrapped her arms around me, and kissed me. It was one of those tongue on tongue kisses. I didn't need any further encouragement.

"I want to make love to you, Bernie," I whispered.

"I know," she said as we held each other. "I'm a little afraid. I don't have very much experience. I don't want to disappoint you. Even though I was married, I'm not confident I can please a man."

"That's not your responsibility, love. It's up to me to give you pleasure. You couldn't possible disappoint me. I used to dream about making love to you. You never knew that, but it's true. Neither of us is a virgin, but I had a very good teacher. The most important thing she taught me was pleasing a woman is far more important than getting pleasure for myself. And trust me, I believe that and I want to prove that to you."

I could see tears forming in the corners of her eyes. I kissed them away, tasting the salty drops as she folded her body into mine.

"I'm taking birth control pills, Ian. I never stopped, even after my divorce."

I nodded. "That's good. I want you to feel me and I want to feel you. We might not last very long the first time, but I'm going to make sure you know how I feel about you tonight. I'm not going to leave any doubt."

Bernice Kucera was a very lovely young woman. Long blonde hair, grey eyes, athletic body with prominent breasts and hips, long, tapered legs, and a graceful walk. As she removed her dress and undergarments, all was revealed to me for the very first time. I thought she was the most beautiful woman that I had ever seen ... but then ... I was prejudiced.

She looked nervous as I pulled the bedspread down and invited her to join me. I wondered just what kind of experience she had with her husband. What had he done to take away her confidence? She should have inspired him to do everything possible to please her. By doing that, she would have known what being loved was all about. I knew I was on a voyage of discovery with her. I had to take my time and see just what she responded to.

Deb Cummings had taught me the joys of oral sex from both perspectives. I knew Bernie was nervous and I hoped that with some patience and effort, I could transform that nervousness into arousal. I began with kissing her body, from top to bottom. She was still tense, but I could sense some response as I continued. She was allowing me to do what I wanted without complaint or resistance. The critical moment would come when I moved to her sexual center and touched her there with my lips and tongue and later, my fingers.

"What are you doing?" she asked in alarm as I began to use my tongue on her vagina.

"I'm making love to you. Has no one ever done this for you before?"

"No ... never. It feels strange," she whimpered.

"Relax, Bernie. Let the feelings and sensations happen. This is for you. I want this to feel good."

I was a minute or so later that I heard a soft "Oh" from her. He hips were beginning to move and I knew that she was responding to my efforts. I had avoided making contact with her clit, but the time had come for me to increase the stimulation. My timing must have been good because she reacted almost immediately.

"Oh, Ian ... it feels so ... good. I never knew. Never," she gasped between physical reactions to my tongue and now, my fingers.

I couldn't tell if she was having an orgasm. If she was, it was subtle. But I was sure she was pleased with my efforts. I could feel her hands in my hair and stroking my head as I continued to arouse her. It was nearing time for me to complete our union.

I was extremely careful with her that first time. She was lubricated, but I was a very snug fit by feel. I didn't want to hurt her, so I took my time, working my way into her very gradually, stopping often to make sure she wasn't in discomfort. She kept assuring me she was not. After a while, I was able to begin stroking into her, albeit slowly. I watched and listened for any signs that I was hurting her, but the only reaction I saw was one of contentment and satisfaction. Any tension was gone.

Bernie's eyes were closed, but there was a smile on her face as I continued to make love to her. Her arms were wrapped around my shoulders, occasionally stroking my back. Her knees were now elevated. There was no doubt that she was getting pleasure from our union. I kept up a steady pace and that seemed to be exactly what she wanted. I was in heaven. This was better than I could have hoped for. We were perfect for each other. My dream was being realized.

"Ian ... are you awake?" she whispered as we rested.

"Yes," I said quietly, turning to her. "I'm just reliving every second of what we just did."

"It was wonderful, Ian. So much better than I have ever known. You had a very good teacher."

"Let's not talk about that. You are the only woman on my mind. No one else matters anymore."

There was another protracted but comfortable silence before:

"What are you going to do if your boss wants you to move back to Vancouver?"

"That question has been running around in my mind too," I said. "We have two choices. I could resign and look for work here. Or ..."

"Or what?" she said, her face set in a serious mask.

"Or ... we both go to Vancouver ... as man and wife." I had spit out something I would never have imagined saying. But I did say it ... and ... I meant it.

"No ... Ian. It's too soon. You've only just appeared again. I'm not ready to make that kind of commitment again. I've tried once and failed. I can't let myself fail again."

I could tell by the tone of her voice that I had surprised her and she wasn't ready to consider a permanent arrangement.

"I'm sorry, Bernie. That was a stupid thing for me to say. I know it's too soon and I know you have to be certain. I do love you, but I can wait. Hell, I've waited this long, I can wait until you know for certain."

"Ian, it's been years since we've been close. I'm surprised that you're so sure I'm the one for you. I know I'm not there yet ... and ... maybe it won't happen," she said, searching my face for my reaction.

"I want to believe it will. I'm acting out my dream." It was at that moment that I knew I didn't want to leave Ontario without Bernie.

"Ian, it's too soon to say if it will turn out the way you hope," she said.

"I'll hold the thought that it's possible."

That night with Bernie changed everything. I now had a completely different situation in front of me. I could see the end of the project not far in the future. Then what? Despite the mixed signals from her, I'd made up my mind that I was staying in Guelph. My goal was simple. Win the hand of Bernice Kucera. I had also decided I would accept a lesser role at Maxwell Marine to stay in the area. It was a matter of priorities.

Dave Jacobs was in town on Tuesday for a final sign-off on the accounting package integration. Despite Dave being twice my age, we had formed a very good working and personal relationship. I thought it might be smart to discuss Bernie with him. I thought he could give me some good advice. I wasn't trying to hide anything, but I thought it was better to have this conversation away from the workplace.

"Okay, Ian, the dinner was great, but I have the feeling you want to talk about something."

"Yes, I do. If you can be patient, I'll tell you a story and it will give you the background to my needing some advice."

"So, I'm the wise old sage, am I?" he chuckled.

"Something like that, but I consider you a friend as well." I proceeded to tell Dave about my relationship with Bernice Kucera, right back to the beginning. Then I told him about meeting her completely unexpectedly here in Guelph. We reconnected almost immediately, I related, without all the intimate details.

"Bernie is grounded here, Dave. This is where her parents, her job, and her interests are. I'm wondering what Bob has in mind for me. He hasn't said a word yet and I can see the end of this project just around the corner. Has he said anything to you?"

"Yes, he has. But just to clarify a point, are you saying you want to stay here in Ontario?"

"Yes. Bernie is back in my life and I'm determined not to let her get away again."

"I don't think either Bob or I expected that, Ian. Of course, we didn't know anything about Ms. Kucera either. You've given this a lot of thought, I hope," Dave said looking at me intently.

"Maybe not as much as you would expect, but in this case, I'm going on instinct. She's gone through a difficult time with a very brief marriage and then a divorce. She knows me. She knows I'm someone she can count on. I know that's not enough to build a future on, but I have to try."

"Well, I don't know much about your personal life, Ian," Dave said thoughtfully, "but if I can go by what I've seen of you at Maxwell, I'd say you are dependable. But there's the element of love involved too. Being dependable won't win the day by itself. Your lady has to have a deep, committed feeling about being with you for the rest of your life. It doesn't always work out that way, but that's what the foundation is supposed to be."

"Well, I'm halfway there, Dave. I do love her and I think I always have. I guess now I have to get her to fall in love with me."

"You'll have to be patient, by the sound of it. She's definitely not there yet. Anyway, that still leaves the question of your staying here. I guess there's no point in asking if you're sure about this?" he grinned.

"I'm sure."

"Okay, well Bob wanted you back in Vancouver so that you could be groomed as a manager. You would have the role of assistant manager and we could watch you progress first hand. However, we need an assistant manager here in Guelph, so that job is available. We're happy with the guy who replaced Owen Street, and you aren't ready for that role yet. It's just that Bob will be disappointed that he can't guide you himself. You've made a big impression on him and me with this project. You've worked hard and it's coming together as well as we could have expected, if not better.

"This is off the record, Ian. Bob sees you as his ultimate successor. Not right away, not even soon, but you know he has no male heirs to carry on the name. You were the guy who caught his eye when he hired you a few years ago. It wasn't just a summer job. You were interested in the business and you asked questions. Those were signs to Bob that you had potential. I know he admires your dad, but that only opened the door. You weren't just another kid looking for a paycheck and filling in time. So, Bob will probably ... reluctantly ... grant your wish. But ... you didn't hear me say that," he grinned.

"Thanks, Dave. I appreciate your being up front with me. Do you think now would be a good time to talk to Bob about my wish to stay here?"

"Now's as good time as any. He needs to shift his plan to adapt to not having you there. He won't bite your head off ... but he won't be real happy, either."

"I think maybe I'll talk to Bernie to make sure she understands why I'm making this decision before I call Bob. I'd hate to find out that I'd be wasting my time."

"A good idea, Ian. I imagine she'll tell you if you're making a mistake ... or heading down a blind alley."

"Okay. That's what I'll do then. Talk to Bernie first, then to Bob ... and you. Thanks for listening to me."

"You're welcome," he smiled. I wasn't going to waste any time having my talk with Bernie. We were getting together on Friday night after her wheelchair basketball duties. I'd been to a couple of practices and an inter-squad game to watch the youngsters play and I'd been fascinated, surprised at how much I enjoyed watching them. They were all teenagers of varying disabilities, and to see them having fun, recklessly charging about the court chasing the ball or celebrating one of their few baskets was very inspiring. I could see myself getting involved in something like this.

When practice ended, Bernice walked across the floor to where I was sitting and dropped down beside me.

"You look like you're getting as much pleasure from this as I am," she said.

"Yeah. I really like it," I admitted. "I could see myself helping out with some kids in something like this. They were really having fun and they didn't want it to end."

"The big thing is to not have unrealistic expectations of them," Bernie explained. "There will be days when they are great, and other days when they are down, or not feeling good. You have to learn to treat them the same no matter what. Some of them haven't come to terms with their handicaps, and that's where the work is. None of them is likely to be cured in my lifetime, although we never say that. But, for the few minutes each day or week, if we can let them play and have fun, it helps."

"I can see the attraction of doing this kind of volunteer work," I nodded. "Just seeing them smile and laugh and roughhouse with each other must give you a good feeling. Do they get to play against other teams of kids?"

"Oh sure. In fact, there's a tournament coming up at the end of summer for them. Six teams from the Southern Ontario region are playing and ours will be one of them. It's being held at the University of Toronto gym and they are hosting the kids, putting them up in the dorms before the regular college students arrive. It's a big deal for these kids. It's a four day tournament from Thursday through Sunday. The kids are really hyped about it."

"I'll bet they are. I'd like to attend, if that's okay," I said.

"Of course," Bernie exclaimed. "You'll meet a lot of people there. Some are even scouting kids for scholarships. Most universities have athletic scholarships for handicapped kids, so they recruit just the way they do for able bodied kids. Right now, both boys and girls are on the same team. In college, they would be on separate teams."

"Those aren't regular wheelchairs, are they?" I noticed.

"No. They are set up for speed, quick turns, and stability. Even so, some of the really experienced kids can almost make them stand on one wheel despite the fact that they are designed to be stable. The big wheels are tilted in to give the rider the ability to make quick turns and stops. I help train the kids to get back up when they go over. The mid-teen and older boys can usually develop the upper body strength to get themselves up on their own. Most of the kids, though, need help. We teach them how to do that by teaming up."

"The way they roar around the court at full speed, they must be pretty fit," I said, "and they don't think twice about crashing and banging into each other."

"Most are very fit," Bernie smiled. "Some will never be as fit as others because of their handicap. But that doesn't mean they can't play. The crashing and banging, as you call it, is all part of the game. You're allowed to block out other players from getting to a loose ball or the basket."

"I'm looking forward to watching them play a regular game," I said.

"Next weekend you'll get a good dose of it," she laughed. "That's the regional tourney before the big one the third weekend in September.

I waited for her to get changed and meet me at the entrance to the gym. We were just hanging out together tonight. Too late for a movie, and we'd both already had our supper. I was thinking what it must be like for a handicapped kid trying to get along with the other able bodied kids. Bernie said they all went to the same schools. I thought about how out-of-it I felt when I was their age, a runt and not very good looking. I remembered how good it felt to have my pals around me, even if I didn't have a girlfriend. It must be the same for these kids.

"Bernie, I've been thinking I'll ask my boss to let me stay here in Guelph after the project is done. I'd like to see more of you and I'm hoping it might lead to something."

She looked at me, but didn't smile. In fact, it was a kind of blank stare. It didn't give me a good feeling.

"Ian, I don't want to mislead you. That time we had sex was ... it was ... just sex. I like you. I always have. But ... I don't love you. I don't want you to make an important decision about your career in the hope that all that will change. Maybe I made a mistake having sex with you. Maybe that made you think I was in love with you. I'm not ... I'm sorry ... but I'm not."

I felt cold inside. I'd just had my fondest hope shot down in flames. The Bernice of my dreams was not going to be the Bernice of my future. I was speechless. I didn't know what to say or even how to act. It hurt. I was seeing the possibilities of my future vanishing.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Ian," she said after a long period of silence. "I would never want to do that to my best friend. But I won't lie to you. You don't deserve that. I feel like I've led you to believe something that wasn't true. I'm sorry."

It took me a while to find my voice.

"Okay, Bernie. I guess I should be grateful that you told me now and not later. I won't argue with you about it. It does hurt, but I guess it's a self-inflicted wound. I was the one who created the expectation, not you. I just didn't read the situation the same way as you did." That pretty much ended the evening for us. I drove back to my cottage and knew that my wonderful plan to stay here in Guelph and win her hand was in tatters. On Monday, I would phone Dave and tell him that my plan to stay was off. I would hope he hadn't said anything to Bob about it. I would just as soon let Bob carry out his original plan.

Chapter 8A

Bernie:

Oh, God, what have I done? I've hurt one of my best friends. How could I let him think I was in love with him? I don't know how to fix it. I'm not ready for another relationship. I'm still trying to put my failed marriage behind me. When he said he was prepared to give up his future to stay here with me, I felt awful inside. I knew instantly that I had to tell him the truth. But somehow, it came out as cold as I felt. Somehow, I've caused Ian pain and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

I don't know how to make this right. I don't know how to repair our friendship. This is just another example of how immature I am. Am I ever going to grow up and act like a proper adult? I wonder. Now, I may have lost someone who is very important to me. Ian isn't just a friend, he's one of those life-long friends that everyone needs. But marriage? No ... I'm not right for him. I'm not right for anyone. I've messed up one life and I'm not going to mess up another.