Resolution

I put a hand to her cheek and leaned over and kissed her forehead. I didn't want to turn her off by doing anything traditional in the way a man and a woman might react after such an event. Instead, I just put a hand on her hip and rubbed in a provocative way. As I moved my hand up her side, toward her breast, she closed her eyes. I know she was pretending it was a woman's hand, but I refused to think about it. I was determined to pleasure my wife in much the same way she had done for me... an act of love. Things moved in a predictable way and soon I was doing for her what she had done for me. I worked hard at it I was determined to give as good as I got. I don't know if it was the long period of absence or if I really did do better than usual, but she seemed to get off on it a whole lot more then before.

Before she got up, she gave me an affectionate hug and kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, I needed that," she said. "Mind if I shower first?" she continued as she headed for the bathroom. I didn't mind. I really needed a short nap anyway.

And so that became our Saturday ritual. There was still the abstinence during the week, but Saturday we "made love" ... albeit not in the traditional manner. Over the months that followed, my love for her grew and it was almost as if she'd never written the letter... almost. On the outside, we were the perfect couple. We smiled, we talked, we seldom fought, we did all the things husbands and wives ought to do... on the outside. But on the inside, there was still that letter and if I could have forgotten it, there was that damned recurring dream... that damned blonde who pleasured my wife in my dreams.

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

But I did love Erica and I came to grips with the fact that though she did love me, she was a lesbian. What's more, that fact, coupled with the fact that she was trying hard to hold our marriage together and keep up the front of a normal heterosexual couple to spite all odds made me love and appreciate her more than ever. She was setting aside her very real need in favor of the family... for the well being of the kids. I guess it was that that made me want to give her more of what she needed... to help her with her illusion. Almost without thinking, I mentioned to my barber that I'd like to experiment with a longer hairstyle.

"I guess it's my age. I'm not a kid anymore, but the guys on the job, they're all sporting long hair," I told him. "I don't want it like hippie long or anything, but maybe something out of my youth... like something I could comb back and put a wave in it."

He gave me a look like I'd just told him that I was going to recommend his services to some little green men I met when their UFO landed in my back yard. He just shrugged and said, "You're the boss. I don't know much about long hairstyles, but I can leave it grow a bit and just give you a trim."

Erica noticed when I came back that my hair wasn't its usual close cropped style. "Trying a new hair style?" she asked.

I gave her the same line I used on my barber. "Yeah, I'm beginning to feel a little old. All the younger guys at the job all have their hair a little longer. I know it's silly and I'm just fooling myself, but I think I'll feel better about myself and fit in just a little better if I let it grow out some." I don't know if I was lying to her or myself more.

"Did old Joe (my barber) take the news well? I mean, letting your hair grow could mean that you won't see him as often."

"Well, he did look a little perplexed. He said that he didn't know much about long hairstyles, so he just gave me a trim."

"If you're going to grow your hair out a little, you should see someone who has experience with that sort of thing."

"What's the big deal? You let it grow out to the length you want and then you go in and have it trimmed up a bit."

Erica just smiled and shook her head. "And what about in between? How do you keep it looking nice? You know you can't go to church looking like some street bum. You do serve as an usher sometimes. You've got to look good for that."

"I don't know. Comb it with some moose or something."

Again she grinned and shook her head. "Look, take it from someone who's gone back and forth with hairstyles more then a few times. It's a lot more complicated then that. If you want it to look decent along the way, it has to be trimmed to accommodate the way it grows naturally. Not all of your hair grows at the same time nor at the same rate. If you're serious about growing it out, why don't you let me talk to Joanne when I go in next week? I know that there are some men who use her salon to keep their hair looking good. At the very least, she'll have some advice I can pass along."

"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt. Maybe she could recommend some hair care product that I could use on a longer style."

I left it at that and didn't think about it again, until Erica brought it up. I was out back mowing the lawn when she came back from her hair appointment. When I came in from putting the mower back in the garage, she had iced tea waiting for me. I sat and took a sip.

"Ummm, thanks. That hits the spot."

"I thought you'd need something. It's pretty warm out there."

"You thought good," I said, taking another drink.

"I talked to Joanne, today."

"Who?"

"My hairdresser."

"Oh." There's nothing unusual about that. Don't women usually talk to their hairdressers?

"I told her you were letting your hair grow out and she agreed that you should have it trimmed every two weeks to keep it looking nice."

"OK, but I don't see how that will let it grow out. Joe will just keep trimming it at the same length."

"Well, actually, Joanne suggested that you let her do your hair while it grows out. Oh, by the way there are some things you can use that will help keep you hair looking nice while it grows out. She'll explain them to you next Saturday when you go in for your appointment."

"My appointment?"

"Yes, she needs to see your hair to be able to really know what you need."

"Oh, OK."

"She has you as her last appointment at 6:00."

"Ar'right."

"I'll remind you."

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

"Joanne?" I asked letting myself into the shop. "I'm Jim, Erica's husband."

"Oh yes, Jim, come on in. Erica told me all about you. Here, take a seat here and let's see what we've got to work with."

I sat in her barber chair, or is that beautician's chair? Anyway, she ran her fingers through my hair. Not in the sexy way women do, but pulling it up and fluffing it, feeling it between her fingers. At last she smoothed it back down and said, "I don't know who's been doing your hair, but they haven't done it any favors. Let's start with a shampoo."

She flung a cape around me, just like old Joe did, well the cape wasn't exactly like old Joe's. His are all white. This one was kind of a pink... a soft pink. Erica told me later that she'd call the color "tea rose." Whatever. Then she leaned back the chair, like Joe would for shaving, only this one was positioned so that my head went over a special sink that had a dip in it to accommodate my neck.

It was kind of nice. I hadn't had anyone wash my hair for me since I was eight. I can remember telling my mom I was a "big boy" and didn't need her to wash my hair anymore, but I could get used to this. She shampooed it twice then put a conditioner in it.

"Conditioner... I've never used conditioner. What's it supposed to do anyway?"

"It adds texture your hair and helps it keep its shine."

"O... K..."

She pulled up the front in her fingers and shook her head as if to say, "How could anyone do that to someone's hair."

"It's going to be a little shorter than you want it for now, but it'll grow faster when you start treating it right."

Sitting me upright again, she started snipping away, an awful lot like Joe would have. I really didn't see the difference. But when she was done, she combed into a really different style than Joe would have. She really did some strange things, like lifting it up and combing it backward, down toward the scalp. Then she smoothed it all over with really soft strokes, not really moving the hair at all, except right at the surface. To my surprise, she sprayed it all over with hairspray.

The price of the haircut was about three times what old Joe would have charged, but then, I wouldn't have gotten the shampoo and scalp massage either. Looking in the mirror, I wasn't sure I liked what she had done, but Erica had coached me give her a tip.

"Thanks," I said as I gave back ten dollars from the change.

She smiled and said, "I know it doesn't look like much now, but in a month or two, it'll come into shape. I'll need to trim it every two weeks to get it to come out looking like something other than a rag mop." She turned to her appointment book and wrote something after flipping a few pages. "I think the last appointment of the day is best, don't you?

"If we're really going to have any kind of success, you will really need to take better care of your hair then you have in the past. You'll need to wash and condition your hair every day. Also, once a week, you should use a hot oil treatment to put some body back into it. The shampoo Erica uses will work nicely. Don't worry about the scent, it fades quickly."

"OK," I said. "I suppose that Erica has the hot oil stuff, huh?"

"Actually, I don't really think she does." Turning to the counter behind her, she picked up a small bottle and handed it to me. "Use this next Saturday. The directions are on the bottle. I'll do it again when you come in. A month or so of that should put some shine back in your hair." The damned stuff cost me as much as the hair cut, with tip. "Oh, and speaking of shine... you might want to consider some supplements as well."

"Supplements?"

"Yes. Have Erica check the health store for supplements containing soy, hops, flaxseed, alfalfa, and red clover. They will help your hair. Erica also tells my you're concerned about thinning hair. You might want to see a doctor about getting Propecia. It works pretty good at stopping and even, in some cases, reversing hair loss."

"Ah, well, I don't really have a doctor."

"Well, I could call my sister. She's a PA, physician's assistant. She could prescribe it for you."

"A physician's assistant? She can write prescriptions? Wouldn't she need a doctors OK or something?"

"No, not really, she can do most everything a doctor can do. She has a doctor who does oversee her, but he doesn't have to be consulted for every little detail."

"How much would it cost me?"

"Oh, not much, just an office call. About thirty dollars, I think, plus the cost of the meds."

"Well, OK, I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a talk with her."

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

Well, I saw the PA and Erica got the supplements. I began to feel like a junkie, what with all the pills I was popping all the time. Also, at Erica's and Joanne's insistence, I started using her shampoo and conditioning my hair everyday. I had been using Ivory hand soap, the same as I showered with. Joanne said that probably had as much to do with my thinning hair as anything else. Erica's shampoo was Paul Mitchell Tea Tree Shampoo and the conditioner was the matching Tea Tree Special Conditioner. The fragrance was an interesting combination of lavender and peppermint. I'm not sure if the fragrance dissipated or I just got used to it. She also had Paul Mitchell's Tea Tree Hair and Body Moisturizer. I guess it would also keep her skin soft as well. After a week of using the shampoo and conditioner, I thought, "What the hell, I'm trying to help her by growing my hair out, I guess soft skin would help as well," and started using the stuff. "I only hope that the rest of the world doesn't see me as too wussy."

Every other week, like clockwork, Joanne shampooed and conditioned my hair, trimmed it a bit and after a couple of months, it began to really look different. The guys at work noticed and I took a little ribbing about trying recapture my youth. I let them think that. It was easier then explaining my wife was a lesbian and all that went with my reasoning about growing my hair longer.

At work, I combed it back reminiciant of the fifties duck tail. It began to take too much time in the morning to dry my hair so I started taking my shower in the evening after dinner. I found it helped in making sure that I didn't smell too femmy at work. After I brushed it out and let I hang loose until bedtime. Erica never said a word about it, but I did catch her looking at me with an odd smile, when she didn't think I'd notice. Jimmy surprised me by commenting on how "kewl" his dad was getting. Even Karen thought my hair was cool. I heard her tell one of her friends she thought my hair style was as "in" as any of the guys in her school.

Life went on and aside from our Saturday morning oral tryst; everything took on an air of normalcy. We went to church every Sunday, did the school sports/music things for the kids. From the outside, looking in, a casual observer would have thought we were the all American family. Two kids -- one each, a mortgage, two cars -- one with payments and a happily married mom and dad. But underneath was the fact that Erica wrote that letter and keeping it foremost in my mind was the damned dream. I still woke up aroused a couple or three times a week with that dream on my mind.

Apparently, my idea of giving in a little by changing my hairstyle really meant something to Erica. One Wednesday evening I decided to try using her blow dryer to speed up the drying process. With my hair now over my collar, I really didn't like sitting around with wet hair while it dried. The style that Joanne had put in it really jumped out. That night when I went to bed, Erica surprised me by cuddling up to me.

"You really smell nice," she said.

"It's just the smell of the shampoo and conditioner," I replied.

"Ummm, I like it. I'll have to see if I can pickup some cologne in the same scent for you."

"Great, that's all I need... some long lasting lavender cologne."

She nuzzled into my hair then kissed me on the cheek. Her touch fired me up in an instant. It was just too much like days of old. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then the real surprise came. She reached down and got a hold of me.

"You up for some unscheduled fun?" I tried to think of a good answer. "Don't bother answering, I can tell that you are."

With that, she went into our Saturday morning routine. When I got through pleasing her, she pulled me to her and kissed me. Kissed me like old times. It felt good... real good. For the first time in over two years, we fell asleep in each other's arms.

In the morning, I was of mixed emotions about the previous night. Oh yeah, it was good to feel her love like old times. However, the little scene that played out prior to her getting amorous made it obvious that she was seeing me as feminine. The lavender scent she commented on. "What was it she said? 'Ummm, I like it. I'll have to see if I can pickup some cologne in the same scent for you.' Yeah, lavender. She wants me to smell of lavender. It turns her on." Talk about rubbing my nose in the fact that she would rather me be a woman. "Give her an inch, she wants a mile."

I stewed about it all day at work. It's a wonder I didn't hurt myself or someone else driving the fork lift or loading the trucks. I really wasn't there, I was back in our bed, hearing her tell me how much she liked smelling lavender on me. "But oh God, last night was good." It wasn't just sexual release; it was feeling of her loving me, wanting me, even if she did pretend I was a woman when I serviced her. "Just what the hell am I supposed to do with that?"

Ÿ ¤ Ÿ ¤

One Friday about a month later, I was at work bending over a skid while I was pulling the packing slip and my hair just fell in my face. There was no way that my duck tail was staying in place. I pushed it back with my hand while I read the packing list. John came over and said, "If your going to wear it that long, you need to pull it back in a ponytail at work, like I do." He turned his head and pulled his ponytail to the side.

"Ah, I'm not so sure about that."

"Trust me man, it's a lot better than having it in your face all day."

"I guess I could give it a try. I think there're some rubber bands in the shipping desk."

"Oh, no man, don't use a rubber band. It'll like break the hair off and then you'll have stray hairs sticking out all over. You need one of these special hair ties. You can get them as most any store that sells hair accessories."

"Ah, thanks. I've got a hair appointment tomorrow. I'll see what my... ah, barber has to say."

"Barber? Must be some kind of barber. I'd have bet you were going to a stylist. I mean, your hair looks a lot better than any barber would do it."

He could see I was struggling.

"Don't let it bug you man. If the guys who have nice looking long hair are honest, they'll tell you they go to a salon... I do. Some of the guys with the grunge look, may still use a barber. But no, not you."

"Well, yeah, when I started to let it grow, my wife insisted that I keep it looking good and said that my barber wouldn't be able to do that, so I go to her salon."

It felt good to be able to tell someone that I went to a stylist. It even felt better to know that they went to one as well. It wasn't long before quitting time and I was off home again. The way things had been going at home, I almost felt that antsy feeling in the pit of my stomach I used to feel again. After all, tomorrow was Saturday, and we'd be making our new style of love again in the morning. OK, if I wanted to dwell on the negative I could get pissed about not having regular sex, but well, hell, at least we could cuddle a bit after. Take your happiness where you can find it.

Saturday morning didn't disappoint. And yes, we did cuddle after. Erica ran her hand over my chest and it felt different some how. More pleasurable than I remembered it. More than just the touch of a lover... deeper some how... almost sensual, but I put it off to just being in love with the one doing the rubbing. Then she said something that confirmed what I had suspected for a while now.

"I love the way you feel. Have you been doing something for your skin?"

OK, time to 'fess up. "Ah, yeah, I've been using your moisturizer when I shower. I thought as long as I was using your shampoo and conditioner, I might just as well rest of the trio. I hope you don't mind."

"I thought it was going faster than it used to. And... no, I don't mind. It makes you feel and smell really good."

Yeah, really good, like a woman.... Alright Jimbo let's not get all self-righteous here, that's why you used it, remember? You wanted to give a little more to help her hang in for the kids. You wanted to have her think you felt like a woman.

I had to let that whole thought process go, before I got angry or hurt again. We'd gone too far toward making the best of a bad situation to make waves now. OK boy, say something nice.

"I'm glad you like it. I wasn't sure. I think maybe if you hadn't noticed, I'd have stopped. Do... do you want me to keep it up?"

"Oh yeah. I love it. I'll have to start getting the larger bottle, if I'm going to share. My next bottle of shampoo and conditioner was going to be the larger size anyway."

She nuzzled into my neck and sniffed, then kissed it lightly. "I can still smell the residue, it's lovely."

Great, that's how I want to smell, "lovely."

"Is it really that noticeable?"

"Not unless you have your nose right up against you skin. You're not planning on letting anyone else get this close, are you?"