Results and Consequences

"There you go..."

"Thank you."

For the return drive, Gerald put on a brave face and talked almost non-stop about the childhood memories of his frequent trips to Niagara Falls with his dad, with the wonder of the Aquarium and the thrill of kissing a sea lion at a premium. Also, he talked about their wine tasting expeditions, when they both got older, down the Niagara Valley wine route in Canada. This time, there was no innuendo, no flirting, no undertone... just a trusted friend bearing open his soul. Gerald was still at it when they parked back at the rowing club, marking the end of their date. For the first time, he found it in him to end it.

He kissed her on the cheek and remained at the wheel. "Thank you Dana... I had an amazing time tonight. Please be careful returning home and good luck with your internship this summer. Good night."

Dana felt so violently repulsed she might as well have been sitting on an ejector seat. She withheld tears. "Thank YOU, Gerry... I always have a fantastic time with you... please, please call again. Good night."

As she watched his Ford disappear in the horizon and smoked alone beside her car, every instinct of hers foretold that her last wish fell on deaf ears. She had been on the river, went on top of the falls and tumbled down. She then drove home in despair, with a suddenly huge headache.

4. The Christmas bombing pause

"Yes, Sylvia... I understand... no no! No problem, it's all set... yes, I have the address... don't worry, I'll figure out the navigation... yes, yes, see you soon! Bye now..." Gerald finally hung up, feeling like someone capping a Genie in his bottle. He almost felt tired. Mostly, he felt anxious.

He looked outside from his closed window and realized his heart felt as bleak as the grey skies and snowy cityscape outside.

(Face it, Gerry... you need her... but then again, what good is moral support if you always feel like crap afterwards... not to mention broke!)

He allowed himself to think on it while doing his daily workout on his rowing machine. He was still thinking on it while purchasing the required supplies for this upcoming trip. Again while he got his car prepared and also while he checked his office schedule for the Holidays period. Then, one evening in December, there was nothing left for him to do to postpone the inevitable... he dialed.

"Hello..." There was the sultry voice... he had not heard it once in seven months.

"Good evening Paula, it's Gerry... is this a good time to call?" An uncomfortable silence ensued.

"This is Dana Deep on the phone, what can I do for you?" His heart sank to abyssal depths, but at least he was thankful she was being straight with him and did not end the call.

"I would like you to accompany me on another road trip, Dana... yes... Staten Island... three days, four at the very most... Christmas time, if you're free... oh, I understand, of course... what? You will! That's super! Yes... my sister Sylvia. All right, we can talk again later for the details... ok then... good night."

(Now you've done it! And why was she in a hurry to hang up? Did she have a date tonight? And why did she waver: is she mad at me or will she be canceling already planned dates?)

Talking to Dana was akin to crossing a marked minefield under fire but, whatever his misgivings, Gerald could not deny he was excited. Tonight, he would be going to bed with his dildo, his butt-plug, and just allow himself to feel his need, his thrill of expecting to see her again.

---

He was happy he did not have an accident on the way to her home... that's how excited he was on his way to pick her up. And Dana, standing outside at 2h AM with a tuque, mittens and a parka, looked like a snow queen. Her beaming smile could melt snow and he was as dazzled as ever by her. She tried to dust herself before stepping in the car, to no avail... powdery snow followed her in. The very instant she was sitting down, Gerald felt her frosty cold lips on his; they were still moist and soft. "Hi, Gerry!!! Did you miss meeee?"

"Yes, Dana, I missed you terribly... are you all set?"

"Indeed! Drive, Gerald!" She spoke with a caricature of a British accent and was obviously in a playful mood. The fact they had settled the transaction ahead of time helped, as it allowed them to avoid that usual awkward moment.

"All right then... have a good trip!" He was caressing her thigh saying so... it just felt so right. She did not resist or appear startled.

"You too..." She kissed him again, a quick peck on the cheek. "Now, explain to me why we are driving six hours instead of flying?"

"Because you obviously have no concept of flying to New-York for the Holidays... also because the back is full of paint and I was weary of declaring that sort of liquid to an airline. There are so many restrictions these days."

"Ah... so I heard you right... we are going painting; Gerry, if I ever write the memoirs of Dana Deep, the chapter on unusual dates will be devoted solely to you!"

"No, Dana, WE are not painting, I AM painting. Sylvia will not stand the vapors and, even though I'm bringing several odor absorbers, I expect her to step out. I don't mind that though, I'm good at painting. When I told you my dad was a painter, I didn't mean an artist; he was a blue-collar city worker: he painted arenas, community centers and offices for almost 40 years and I like to think I'm a little chip off the old block..."

"OK, Gerry, so I'm here to... give your sister a good time?"

"NOOOO, you nympho! She's a mess and I'm her moral support. You're going to be MY moral support!"

"Are you kidding?"

"Of course not, Dana... there is no one I would rather have with me to face this." It was very heartfelt and Gerald heard Dana skip a breath.

"Well... thank you but... come on, Gerry, how hard can this be?"

"I have, in fact, been searching for a proper image to picture you this adequately... and the Christmas bombing pause always comes to mind, to tell you the truth."

"You DID NOT just compare your relation to your sister with a chapter in the McNamara book on Vietnam!!!"

"I'm always amazed by the quality of your memory..."

"Don't sell yourself short; your required readings were almost all pleasant surprises. And they did turn me into a 60s History buff. I've read Dean Rusk, Ted Sorensen and Arthur Schlesinger since then... but that's beside the point... how can you picture your situation with Sylvia so bleakly?!?"

"Because my sister issues are deep-rooted and without solution. She's eleven years older than I am and Destiny gave her the raw deal in our family, through and through. Mom died at the onset of her teens and dad... well... he was comfortable with boy things and boy issues. So she gets married as soon as she can date husband material instead of immature jerks, and that anchors the rest of her life. There was a chasm early in the marriage but she fought like hell to hold it together, for her sake and especially Chloe's, my niece. The few times we spoke while I was in College, I kept urging her to leave Steve before she irrevocably hated him and it would be too late for her to rebuild her life, to the expected barrage of denial and verbal abuse on her part. And now it turns out I was right... and she's down for the count. I'm not going over there to gloat, Dana... I'm picking up the pieces and I don't have any glue."

Her hand was on his. She was already needed. "Still, you're describing me a tragedy, not warfare..."

"Because I have empathy now doesn't mean I had sympathy then, Dana. When dad got sick and all our lives went to the crapper, she was caught up fighting for Steve and also with Chloe in a full rebellion phase. She let me hang out to dry, with choice words of detachment about dad and his favorite son as a bonus. It was ugly. Really ugly. When we halted communication, it was more of a truce and mutually agreed so we would not completely annihilate our relationship."

"I get it... and she needs you now?"

"Yes... we've been sporadically keeping in touch since dad's funeral. Her divorce was recently finalized, Chloe left for College and it just hit her that she's now living alone. So she tries to restart living as one instead; she told me she sold her Manhattan condo and bought a nice little house in the St. George district, within walking distance of the ferry. For her to choose to reside in a heritage zone, I suppose she intends to restore the building... that ought to keep her busy for some time. In any case, she asked me to paint and spend Christmas. And I want you there with me. End of story."

She was petrified and unsure how to react. "Well, well, well, are you a lawyer or a therapist, Gerry?"

He chuckled. "A lawyer who listened when HE went to therapy."

"The chasm, as you called it... what was it? Did he cheat?"

"I wish! That would have been easy! Steve did not want any more children after Chloe. I don't know if his motives were health-related, financial, altruist or self-serving, but he was intractable on the issue. And Sylvia wanted kids. Plural. Even when I was too young to have a clue about the facts of life, I was aware of that yearning of hers. She should have never compromised on such a big deal to her, but she insisted it was her choice to make... and she was right and, now, here we are."

"And of course, she's your big sister, so you're diving back in there..."

He grumbled in agreement and, after a short pause, he carried on. "There is also the upside of a possible pleasant Christmas for the first time in years... and I recalled what you also said about the Holidays, when we spoke last winter... so I figured maybe we could be lucky and also share this." He turned his free hand around to return her grip while saying this.

"Gerry... that's very sweet of you... I don't know what to say..."

"Say nothing more... I'm glad that you appreciate the thought and... you know what? I hope we do have a good time; we deserve it!"

Dana was blushing deep red and kept her grip on his hand, which was slightly shaking. "I agree, Gerry! Fuck it! Let's have a good time... provided you get us there alive, of course. This pocket rocket of yours is not exactly winter rally material!"

"No worries there... I have some winter driving experience and, also, I have invested in winter tires. We should be fine and on time."

"Winter tires... wow! That's very Canadian of you, hi hi!"

"Eh? Before you start calling me a hoser, maybe you could choose a selection on the iPod for the tunes. It's already connected to the stereo."

She had a puzzled look, obviously not catching his Bob and Doug Mackenzie humor, and strolled down the playlist titles after a brief moment getting familiar with the stereo controls.

"Gerry... you have a playlist with my name?"

(ShiiIIITTTT!)

"Yes, Dana... it's... euh... oh, well... you'll hear it for yourself."

Upon hearing the soft bass intro of Lou Reed's Walk on the Wild Side, she cooed "ouhouuuu, naughty boy! I love that song..."

She was perplexed by the next song, a ballad. The screen on the car stereo said I Don't Know How to Love Him, sung by Yvonne Elliman on the Jesus-Christ Superstar Album. She repeated the song. "This is really beautiful, Gerry... what does it represent?"

"Yvonne Elliman plays Mary Magdalene and sings that lament while Jesus-Christ is asleep, on the night after he entered Jerusalem and chased the merchants from the temple..."

"Oh... so of course I'm Mary?"

"Actually, when I listen to the song I really identify with her words... no bullshit."

She repeated the song again before asking "could we share?"

"Of course, Dana." But that answer was almost drowned by Haddaway's What is Love, and they both set out to swing frantically and sing the lyrics at the top of their lungs. Gerald thought they nearly mimicked a Saturday Night Live Roxbury Guys sketch, but kept it to himself.

While I'm Not in Love from 10cc was playing, a couple of titles later, Dana said "I love my playlist, Gerry, thank you..." before dosing off on her seat. She did not see Gerald shed a tear while he listened to Annie Lennox singing Waiting in Vain, soon afterwards.

It was still dark when she stirred and woke up. "HMmmm... hey, Gerry... how long have I been snoozing?"

"About three hours; we're approaching Binghamton, do you need a smoking break?"

"Naaah, I quit!!!" She was beaming with pride. "We can go a little further along and stop for breakfast."

"OK then, we stop at Scranton for breakfast; and congratulations for quitting! Was it as hard as they say?"

"Brutal! Even with the help of therapy and prescriptions, for me, in the end it all came down to force of will. But I wanted it hard enough and I'm very proud of myself. You know, last summer, after the beating, I ended up almost chain-smoking; that got me to think about your mother... and I worried."

"Then you ought to be praised! And I'm really proud of you!"

"Thank you, Gerry... coming from you, it means a lot." She took his free hand into hers. He softly returned the grip.

---

The decision for a night trip paid off; they had an eventless drive and arrived on schedule at the small house on Montgomery Avenue. Sylvia was waiting for them and fiercely hugged her brother as soon as he stepped out of the car. To Dana's great relief, they both immediately, and effusively, quashed all past grievances; Gerald then wasted no time setting himself up to paint all day.

"Thank you for all the pictures you sent me, Sylvia... it really helped my planning and your instructions are quite clear. Are you sure you two are going to be all right while I do this?"

Sylvia guffawed. "Seriously, Gerry? Two girls; New-York; Christmas shopping... WE are going to be great! Right, Paula?"

"Absolutely!!! See you later alligator!" She gave him a quick kiss before running away in jest. "Come on, Sylvia... and just where, exactly, did you had in mind?"

---

"Wow! Ger-ry! You weren't kidding! You ROCK at painting!" They had returned just before dinner time and were astonished to see that Gerald had finished all his paint work with the roll, in the entire house, and was finishing his cut-out work with the brush in the master bedroom.

"Paula's right, Gerald... thank you very VERY much! This is a huge deal! You would have done dad proud."

"You're quite welcome, ladies... of course, the single-coat paint has a lot to do with it. Sylvia, are you sure you're going to be all right with the air quality? We can't really open all the windows wide in December..."

"We ought to be all right. Now, Gerald, I'm calling the pizza right now. Your girlfriend told me about her choice of toppings already. You're still up for double-pepperoni with a cold beer?"

"Mmmm! Like you wouldn't believe!!!"

Gerald was done painting by the time the pizza arrived and the three of them had a small but lively pizza party. He keeled over and went to sleep on a couch almost right after eating, apologizing for deserting them before the cleanup and wishing them a fun evening without him.

---

"Come on, wake-up, you poor beast of burden! Time to go to bed!"

Gerald remained lethargic. "Mmmhhh... wheeerrrre?"

"Come with me, baby, I got you..." and Dana led Gerald to one of the two rooms that the ladies had hastily put together for the night.

Gerald changed mechanically into his briefs and slumped down on the floor-level matress just like timber. Dana looked on tenderly and joined him under the sheets - it would be a cold night with the windows partially open.

She was nervous about their first night together, even though it would clearly be a platonic affair. Insofar as emotional intimacy was concerned, they had never been further than kisses during sex; never cuddled; never hogged the blankets; never soothed sore muscles; never cared for one another.

(No, don't think that... HE always cared.)

She spooned behind him and hugged him snuggly; that brought some life back in Gerald. "Mmmm... you feel nice."

"Thank you, Gerry... now go on resting... tomorrow's Christmas Eve and it will be another long day." She was whispering in his ear.

"Did you have a nice evening with my sister?"

"Yes, we talked, cleaned up and set up some minimum comfort in the rooms."

"Did you give her a good time, mmmmh?" She punched him on the shoulder. "Ooow!"

"Smartass!"

"Ok, ok, seriously... what did you talk about?"

"She kept repeating just how happy she was you were here... you really did good by her, Gerry..."

"mmm... that's good..."

"We also talked about us; oh and we also talked about sex!"

"Mphh... why is it that girls always talk about sex?"

"And guys don't?"

"Nope... even the most libertine and lecherous macho douchebag will brag about his past conquests, rave about who he is luring in and, especially, crow about his current trophy... but, honestly, guys never really speak about the deed. Just how graphic were you?"

"Don't worry... just enough... both our virtues are quite safe."

"Thank youuu..."

"She also said she was reassured that such a loving couple - that's us - met online; she's about to try dating again and is nervous about it, you know?"

"Too much information Danaaa... she's my sisterrr!"

"Sorry, Gerry, hi hi!"

"No, Dana... actually, I'm the one who's sorry. Careful... I'm going to turn around..." Dana let him turn around and they were now facing each other. Even though Gerald's eyes were half open, his gaze expressed pure happiness. "... Dana, I believe this is my first time ever at pillow talk and it's a very very nice experience. Thank you very much for this. I hope we get to do it again." Her heart skipped a beat.

"Say no more, baby, just rest..." she kissed him good night and looked expectantly as he drifted back into sleep. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gerald knew that she cut short the conversation, probably for a reason; he was just too tired to bring himself to care.

---

Gerald woke up first and had plenty of time to get himself familiar with Sylvia's new kitchen; he prepared bacon and egg breakfasts for the ladies, assorted with fruit slices and coffees with Bailey's cream. The aroma woke them up and Gerald was quickly sandwiched between two very grateful kisses on the cheeks.

The rest of the December 24 morning was all household business, spent refurnishing the freshly painted rooms. The afternoon was more leisurely, with Sylvia preparing a turkey dinner and Gerald and Dana both putting finishing touches in the living room, and then decorating the Christmas tree. It was all done in an atmosphere of Christmas carols and eggnogs. By dinner time, Gerald had found some wood and managed to get the old fireplace going; gift packages and greeting cards had also surreptitiously appeared at the base of the tree.

This reconstituted, and very alternative, family ended up having quite a loving Norman Rockwell Christmas Eve. After returning from attending mass at Christ Church New Brighton, all three warmly wished themselves good night.

Gerald, who was about to prepare the bed, was redirected by Dana. "No wayyy, Gerry! We are NOT just cuddling for Christmas... to the shower we go, baby!" She had such a playful, mischievous expression that Gerald just stood there and sighed; he felt the urge to just grab her in a bear hug but he kept it in check. Once again the warrior, enraptured by his enchantress, followed her dutifully.

The guest shower, an obvious addition during the life of the house, was minuscule, so Dana went in first. When Gerald was done washing and drying himself, he returned to the bed and was transfixed. Dana was on the bed, in a tucked position, wearing absolutely nothing but a large red ribbon over her head; she was watching Gerald, stunned in place, with the nervous smile of one trying to please her lover.

"Merry Christmas, Gerald... open your present and be careful with the wrapping, please..." her voice was low, sultry and slightly musical; Dana was going for the full Marilyn Monroe effect. Gerald was still paralyzed.