Return from Yukon

"It's Kate's husband," Helen explained. "Ex-husband, that is: she's kicked him out and she's divorcing him, but it isn't final yet. She was out with some friends last night, and somehow he found out about it. He still had a key to the house, so he paid her a visit. He accused her of cheating on him, and beat her. A neighbor heard and called the police, and they have him locked up.

"She spent the night at a shelter, then came to work looking like this. I took her down to the station to swear out a restraining order against him: he can't go near her or the house. She can't change the locks for another two weeks until the divorce is final, though, so she didn't want to go home. We thought she could stay here."

I stared at Helen. "What were you thinking? What happens when Mr. Ex gets out on bail, figures out you two are friends from work and shows up here? Is a piece of paper going to stop him from beating her up again? And what about Hope? Have you forgotten about her?" Hope stirred in my lap at the mention of her name, reminding me to keep my voice down and my tone civil.

"We went over all of that. Kate wouldn't have agreed to it if there were any threat to Hope. We had her lawyer ask for an emergency order to deny bail at least until the divorce is final. He thinks it will be granted tomorrow; the pictures he had of Kate's face were gruesome enough no judge could say no."

"I guess that could work," I admitted. "Still, the idea of just the three of you being here by yourselves at night, or just Kate and Hope while you're at work, doesn't seem right to me."

"We were pretty sure you would think that," Helen smiled. "That's why this couldn't wait until the weekend. We decided to ask if you would consider staying here nights, at least for the next two weeks, until Kate can change her locks."

"Now, Helen..."

"I'm not trying to trick you into getting back together, I promise. Mind you, if that were to happen, I'd be overjoyed, but I know it won't. This isn't about me; it is about Kate and Hope. Could you please consider doing it for them?"

We talked around it for a while, and I finally agreed. Kate's being here would make it considerably less awkward, I hoped, but what truly decided me was that I would have more time with Hope. As I made up the sofa bed in the living room, I smiled as I thought of the "Daddeeeee!" that would greet me the next morning.

I didn't actually move back in, because there wasn't a room for me to move into. Helen would have be fine with my moving into the master bedroom with her, she said so, but that was not going to happen. Kate and Hope had the two other bedrooms, so I got the couch. It was satisfactory, that's the best I can say for it.

Kate was falling all over herself to show her gratitude to Helen and me, until we told her to stuff it, she'd suffered enough and we were glad we could help. The judge concluded that Kate's ex was a danger to her and denied bail until the divorce was final. Both women asked me to continue to stay nights at Helen's house. I dithered a bit, but when Hope looked at me and said, "Daddy, please?" that decided it.

Kate's bruises were healing quickly, and I soon began to notice that she was a beautiful woman. She was tiny, especially compared to Helen, but perfectly proportioned, and she moved with an unstudied grace that I found charming. She was a blue-eyed brunette, and had a lovely smile, which emerged more often as the bruises faded.

I was playing with Hope one evening, at most half-listening as Helen and Kate discussed Kate's possible return to work. Kate wasn't sure she wanted to return to her old position, but wanted to start work soon. She loved staying with Helen, and had fallen in love with Hope, but didn't want to be a burden.

"Remind me what you took your degree in," Helen asked.

"Don't laugh. It's in Classical Studies." Now, that made me sit up and take notice.

"What?" Both women turned to look at me, surprised that I'd heard.

"I know, not very practical, is it? But it seemed like the thing to do at the time." Kate looked apologetically at me.

"No, no, that's not it at all," I responded. "My degree is in Business, but I took Classics to keep myself sane."

Well, that did it. Kate and I were off to the races, talking animatedly about long-dead civilizations (which, as any Classicist knows, aren't really dead at all), while Helen just sat there with an odd little smile on her face. I wondered just what she was thinking.

There was an exhibition of some newly discovered artifacts from Delos at a museum in the next city over. I'd been planning to go there on Saturday, so I mentioned it at supper the next night. Kate did a very bad job of suppressing her desire to go, so after we finished laughing, I asked her. Her divorce wasn't final yet, but her ex was being well looked after by the authorities, and Helen assured us it was fine with her, so it was settled.

As I got ready for bed I began to think about moving back to my apartment. Kate's ex-husband was out of the picture, so I wasn't really needed here. Her divorce would be final early the next week, so she could change her locks and move back to her home. The sofa bed was comfortable for what it was, but that's about all that could be said for it. I was thinking about how to give my notice when Helen showed up, a smile on her face and a mug of tea in each hand. Translation: We need to talk, but it's nothing bad.

"I saw you looking at me tonight when you asked Kate to the exhibition, and wondering how I felt," she began. "It really was sweet of you, but you needn't have worried. I've been a little surprised you hadn't started dating yet. But I think you and Kate will be good for each other, even if you don't have something long term."

"Now, wait a minute," I spluttered. "She's still married, technically at least, and I don't date married women. This isn't a date, anyway: it's, well..." I had to think fast. "It's more like a, a field trip. Educational, you know."

Helen didn't laugh. I have to give her credit for that, but the smirk plastered all over her face told me quite clearly she didn't believe a word I said.

"All right then," she said, still smirking, "it's not a date." Helen's face became serious. "But because you were wondering how I would feel, I want to tell you that I'm quite used to the idea that you will date, and probably eventually marry again. There aren't all that many good husbands out there, and one as good as you should be out there making some woman happy. And I do think Kate would be wonderful for you, though she'll need some time to recover." She smiled and continued.

"There's another thing. Kate and I have been talking about her moving back home. She can change the locks next week, of course, and I told her you and I would be glad to help her move." I nodded. We hadn't talked about that, but she was right.

"She told me that she would prefer to sell her house with its bad memories, and stay here. She and I were friends before, and she's fallen in love with Hope. Hope loves her, too."

"Just like the entire neighborhood." Hope had so many honorary aunts and uncles we didn't know how she kept them all straight.

"Well, yes. Anyway, I know I own the house, but I told her you had to approve as well, because of Hope. So I told her I'd ask you. What do you think?"

I thought a moment. Kate was good with Hope, and this arrangement would make a convenient child care option in case Helen wanted to go back to work full time, but there was one possible snag.

"I'm not saying it will happen, but if Kate and I were to get serious about each other, how would you feel about that if she were still living here?"

"I knew you would ask that," she smiled, "and I thank you for it. I've thought it through, and though I might cry occasionally -- dreams never completely die, you know? -- I am quite sure I would be very happy for you both. If something develops between you and Kate, don't hold back on my account. I mean that sincerely."

Moving back to my apartment was a simple matter of stashing my clothes into a carryall and putting it in my car; I did that the next morning. Especially with Helen thinking of this as a 'date,' it would just be too awkward to leave from the house. I would miss my morning greeting from Hope, though: I'd gotten used to that.

"This is not a date. This is not a date. This is not a date." I kept telling myself that as I drove to my ex-house to pick up my ex-wife's live-in friend for our field trip to the museum. Kate reinforced me by wearing a casual shirt and jeans with flats, and only enough makeup to hide the last of the bruises which had almost faded from her face. Helen gave us a "Who do you think you're fooling?" look anyway, but she was smiling.

"Where you going with Auntie Kate? Can I come too? I'll be good, I promise." Hope had her mother's adventurous spirit, and was always eager for any kind of excursion.

I knelt to talk with her at face level. "We aren't going to a park or anything, sweetie. We're going to a building to look at very old things, and I'm afraid you wouldn't like it."

Hope considered for a moment. "How old? Even older than you?" she asked seriously.

"Way older than me. Older than the oldest person you've ever seen."

"Maybe after we clean the house up, you and I can go to the park." Helen's counter-offer was eagerly accepted, and Kate and I were able to extricate ourselves.

We arrived about fifteen minutes after the museum opened, and we were the last ones out as it closed. I think the only time we talked about anything newer than the 5^th century B.C. was when we were deciding what to eat for lunch. Kate actually read all of the copy on the exhibits! I thought I was the only one who did that. She thought about what she read, too: more than a few of our fellow visitors thought she was an off-duty docent. The time flew by, and we were still immersed in the culture of the ancient Greek islands as we drove home. It was somewhat of a shock to realize we were at the house, and had to re-enter the 21^st century.

"How was it," Helen asked. We tried to tell her how wonderful it had been, talking over one another like excited children.

"No, no, not the exhibit. I mean how was your day out?" Kate and I looked at each other, puzzled. We thought the exhibit pretty much was the day. This was not a date, remember?

Helen sighed. "Oh, never mind. I'll make Kate tell me tomorrow. Good night." I waved good bye to Helen and Kate, and left.

Our area was fairly rich with events of interest to a classicist, but I hadn't attended many of them. Helen didn't enjoy them, and while we were married, I preferred doing something with her to doing something without her. Occasionally we would take in an exhibit together, but I was careful not to overload her. Now, I had a buddy. Kate proposed as many outings as I did, and we were out together almost every weekend. There was nothing romantic going on, in spite of Helen's less than subtle hints. I know we disappointed her: we didn't even hold hands. Still, I went to more events with Kate than I ever would have gone to by myself. Friends who shared a common interest, that's what we were. Classics buddies. It would be just as much fun with a guy as with Kate, as long as he knew his stuff. At least, that's what I told myself.

We went on like that for several months. I didn't think much about my destroyed marriage those days, but seeing so many of Helen's traits and mannerisms in our daughter reminded me occasionally of how much I had lost. Kate understood. To my surprise, Helen had told her the whole story, and even showed her the letter she had written me.

"It's the waste that hurts the most, isn't it?" Kate asked me, as we shared the backyard bench. "She's so strong now. She's a brilliant mom, and she was my rock those first few weeks I lived here. If she'd shown anything like this kind of strength before, she'd still have her marriage."

"I don't know that she had it to show then," I answered after some thought. "She was strong, but only for what she wanted, I think. She had to learn how to be strong for someone else. Use her powers for good, you know. I think Hope has taught her that."

"You may be right. I wonder if my ex will ever learn that." She shrugged her shoulders. "Right now, I can't think of a single good thing that came out of my marriage. At least you have Hope, and she reminds you that it wasn't a complete failure: there were some good things. Bittersweet is far better than just bitter."

Kate and I were walking along the sidewalk at dusk, a few months after Hope had turned four. We were idly chatting about the Roman aqueducts in Spain, the way people do. Kate tripped on a loose piece of sidewalk, and pitched forward with a little shriek. I caught her around her chest when she was about two feet off the ground, lifting her so her face wouldn't scrape the concrete. She turned her head toward me.

Kate's eyes were locked on mine. I'd known she had blue eyes, rather nice ones, too, but suddenly, they weren't 'rather nice.' They were the deepest, kindest, loveliest blue eyes I'd ever seen. As I came to terms with that fact, I realized that my left hand was full of a very nice breast, covered only by a t-shirt and a thin bra, and the owner of that very nice breast didn't seem to have a problem with the situation. This realization was quickly joined by the knowledge that we were on a public sidewalk, and people were stopping to ask if we were okay. Kate seemed to realize that at the same time I did, so we scrambled to recover ourselves while our faces glowed redder than traffic lights.

We shamefacedly assured our well wishers that we were, indeed, okay, and resumed our walk. We were careful not to let our eyes meet -- we didn't want any more accidents -- but somehow aqueducts just weren't the hot topic they'd been a few moments earlier. We walked in silence. Our hands brushed once, then again, then held.

I hadn't felt like this since I was a teenager. My pulse raced, my hands were clammy. Everything had changed in a moment. My friend, my classics buddy, my fellow-museum-copy-reader... my love interest? I risked a glance at Kate. Her face looked like I felt. I remember thinking that this was all well and good, even though I hadn't been looking for love, but I sure hoped I wouldn't lose the classics buddy and all the rest of it in the lover.

I didn't, and neither did she. We let our romance develop gradually, and we became better and better friends, and eventually lovers. Helen, bless her, didn't even say "I told you so." Finally she, Hope, and Kate all came to the conclusion that I should move back into the house, and I did. We decided to leave Helen in the master bedroom and Hope in the girls' room; I joined Kate in the remaining bedroom.

"Finally, there's a boy in the boys' room," Hope announced proudly.

We settled into a comfortable arrangement. Kate and I were lovers; she and Helen were best friends; Helen was the mother of my daughter. I worked full time, and Helen and Kate worked half time with staggered schedules, so one of us was always home with Hope. It all worked very well until Hope was to start school. The school folks didn't understand the arrangement at all, even when we had our lawyer try to explain it to them. It would be a lot easier, he said, if Kate and I were married. We had no problem with that, but we didn't want to see Helen left out. She and I would never be lovers again, but we had drifted into being a kind of family together in a way that worked for all of us. We decided we would leave the house in Helen's name. Kate and I would marry and lease it from her for a nominal fee, with an agreement that she would always be able to live there. The school folks weren't exactly happy (now exactly where does Hope's mother fit into all of this?), but everyone else was, so we were good.

Kate and I had just finished planning our honeymoon trip: Carthage, Egypt, Crete, Rhodes, and finally Greece. We were both excited beyond belief. We'd even spent some time studying the modern languages together, as the ancient ones wouldn't be much help with practical tasks like finding a restaurant. We were lounging in bed one evening, curled up together, chatting about how lucky we were to have found each other. I asked her how she'd come to be so passionate about classical studies.

"When I was a girl, I used to daydream about what it would have been like to grow up in classical Greece. You know, what I would wear, and think, and spend my days doing. I could spend hours just imagining it. You'll laugh, but I even had my mom help me make Greek chitons and himations for my dolls!"

"What did your mom think of that?"

"She was actually happy about it: they're the easiest thing in the world to make! She might not have been so happy with some of my other daydreams. My favorite was the one where I was a Grecian maiden, in the service of the temple. My brother was one of the strongest, bravest fighters in our town.

"One day, the Romans came. They set fire to our fields, and attacked the town. Our men resisted bravely, but they were slaughtered, every man of them, including my brother. The Romans smashed through the gates and entered the town, and went from house to house, looting and burning. We all ran to the temple for safety, but the Romans broke down the doors, carried off the gold and silver, and set the temple on fire. I was running madly, not knowing where I was going, the smoke and my hair blowing in my face and half blinding me.

"I screamed as I was swept off my feet. I was thrown face down across a saddle, and carried swiftly away from the only life I had ever known. I heard other screams, as my girl friends were snatched up and carried away, too. When we got to the Roman camp, the man who captured me ravished me, taking my virginity. He kept me in his tent while he raided other towns, and took me again every night. He was so big and strong, and how manly he looked in his armor!"

I had a very bad feeling about this.

"Maybe..." her fingers traced patterns on my chest. "Maybe, when we're in Greece, in the ruins of an ancient temple, we can..." She smiled at me.

Oh, shit!

Kate didn't give me time to think. Her hand strayed lower and wrapped around my cock.

"Imagine it, husband. I would be your captive; you would have me at your mercy. You could do whatever you wanted with me."

Between the way she whispered those words in my ear in her sultriest voice, and what her hand was doing to me, she could have been reciting the Kings of England and I would have gotten hard instantly. As in fact, I did. She took immediate advantage, leaping astride me and taking me balls deep inside her at the first stroke.

"Anything you want, lover. Anything you can imagine. Take me. I can deny you nothing." Her throaty whispers were interleaved with moans, whimpers, and the noises of a juicy pussy being soundly fucked. Kate squealed as I flipped her underneath me and began to pound away at her.

"Yes! Yes! Take me, lover!" Neither of us was going to last long at this rate, even though it was our second time that night. Kate came as I exploded into her, then we slowly came back from wherever it was we had rocketed off to.

"Wow!" Kate said softly, those blue eyes shining at me. "And just think. A week from tomorrow, I have you all to myself, all day, every day, for four whole weeks. No work, no to-dos, just you and me. Four weeks, for me to make you the happiest man who ever lived. I love you so, so much!" I looked into those deep blue eyes, and I believed her.

It had been over six years since the month of hell. I didn't think about it often, but it was never completely absent from my mind. As I had told Helen, we were both permanently changed. The visual images, and the words she said, would be part of me until the day I died. Now Kate's fantasy had brought them back to my conscious thoughts. She knew it, and did her best to reassure me.