Southern Comfort Ch. 01

"But, there are all those young girls," I started to protest. "You used to have a different one on your arm every time I saw you. And, you have kids," I was more than a little confused.

He nodded. "That's why you see me with them. I date them two or three times. They think I'm such a gentleman. But, those ladies get bored by the third date and they move on. I'm able to keep up appearances that way. Everyone thinks I'm the swinging bachelor. The truth is, I haven't been able to make love to any woman in over three years," he admitted. I lay silently pondering his revelation. His story was sounding a lot familiar to me.

"Do you want to leave now?" he asked.

"No. But, get off of me! You're squishing me!" I said pushing at him with both hands. We readjusted our position and I lay my head on his chest.

"You don't have to stay, you know. I'll understand if you go," he said quietly.

"I'm not going anywhere, unless you want me to," I said looking up at him for an answer.

"You'll get tired of it soon enough," he assured me. A long silence ensued.

"Tell me a story. About when you were growing up on the streets," I said changing the subject. I had already heard a few of his stories. He had related them at the bar when things got boring.

He frowned at me. "You don't want to hear those old tired stories," he protested.

"Yes, I do. It's interesting. I want to hear all about you. Now, tell me!" I insisted, snuggling up on his chest.

Jon began to talk about his childhood. Once he started, it was like he couldn't stop talking. He talked and I listened for hours. We were interrupted by the radio-clock alarm at four in the morning.

"I have to go to work," he said, rolling over to silence the noise. "I didn't realize it was so late," he said.

"We're both going to be worth shit all day," I giggled.

"Are you working too?" he asked. I nodded. He chuckled at the thought of the long day ahead of us both. "Will you come back? Tonight?" he asked quietly.

"What time?" I asked.

"What time can you come?" he countered.

"Five. Five-thirty if I get hung up at work," I said.

He nodded firmly in agreement. "I'll have dinner ready when you get here. We can eat and go to bed early. Catch up on our sleep."

He asked almost as an after thought, "You won't have a problem getting away for the night, will you?"

I shook my head. "No. My husband doesn't seem to notice unless I'm gone for more than a few days," I explained. Jon snorted in response.

We took turns showering and dressing. He returned me to my car at the bar around five in the morning. He kissed me goodbye and slammed the door of my car. "See you tonight?" he asked, as if he needed reassurance that I would be there. I nodded and we parted, heading in opposite directions.

**********

I arrived at Jon's just as he was putting the finishing touches on dinner. I knocked at the door and he yelled from the kitchen for me to enter. I took off my shoes at the door and set my purse down on the coffee table. I sauntered into the kitchen and slipped my hands around his waist, giving him a large hug from behind. "How was your day?" I asked.

"Great! If you don't count the fact that I walked around like a zombie all day! How was yours?" he asked. He had a towel slung over his shoulder, an apron around his waist, and his hands full of two plates. A pair of reading glasses perched on the lower bridge of his nose. He looked out of character from the sexy, confident, alcoholic playboy he normally appeared to be when he was at the bar.

I lay my cheek against his back and nodded. "Same here," I agreed.

He turned to face me with two plates of steak and potatoes in his hands. "I thought you might be tired of nachos," he said with a sheepish smile.

"I didn't know you could cook. It looks good," I said admiring his culinary handiwork.

"I get by. I enjoy cooking for myself sometimes. It keeps me busy," he said setting the plates down on the small table and pulling out my chair. "What do you want to drink?" he asked.

"Dr. Pepper?" I suggested. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Coke?" I tried again. He nodded and set about getting glasses and ice.

We sat down to a leisurely dinner and quiet conversation. "I was so tired today, I fell asleep on the bench and slept through lunch," he chuckled.

"Sleeping on the job!" I teased shaking my head tsk-ing my tongue at him. "Don't you fool around and get fired," I warned.

"Nah!" he scoffed at the idea. "My buddy? He's this big black guy. He woke me up when lunch was over," he explained.

"I sure had him fired up all day. I told him I was up all night with a gorgeous twenty-year old young lady in my bed. I described you to him, and his tongue was practically dragging the floor! Every time he passed me, he would ask another question about you. You should have seen him!" he said with a shake of his head.

"I told him we were going to have dinner and do the same thing again tonight, and he bet me that you would stand me up! Now, I have to figure out a way to prove to him, you came back!" he laughed. "Any ideas?" he asked.

"An idea of how to prove it?" I asked. I could see that he was bothered by the fact we hadn't made love the previous night. Despite his jovial spirits, he had a far-away and wistful look in his eyes when he talked about how he had tricked his co-worker into believing we had.

"How do you prove a thing like that?" he asked. "I've got to come up with something, because I have a hundred bucks riding on this little bet!" he chuckled.

"You shouldn't bet what you can't afford to lose," I said, mildly scolding him and shaking my head with dismay. "I think I might be able to help you out though," I said with a smug look.

"How? Are you going to call him up and tell him you were here?" he grinned suggestively.

"Take him a pair of my panties," I shrugged. "It worked for you!" I declared as I gave him a sly wink.

Jon threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, my god! That's perfect! I didn't even think of something like that. You're right! It did work for me! It shut Ivan up, that's for damned sure!" he snorted.

He paused and gave me a suspicious look. " You are serious, right?" he asked.

I nodded and took another bite of my steak.

"Oh, I am going to have so much fun with this guy tomorrow! This is fucking outstanding!" he said gleefully rubbing his hands together and laughing out loud.

We finished dinner and I did dishes while he cleaned up the rest of the kitchen. When we were finished with the chore, I asked, "Can I take a shower? I'll trade you a pair of used undies for one."

He rolled his eyes and said, "You know where it is. Towels are in the closet. Do you have something to sleep in?" he asked.

"Yep! I sure do. Your arms," I teased.

"Grab something out of my closet. A shirt or something," he said, waving me off and settling down on the couch to watch an evening sports show.

It was a while before I reappeared wearing one of his long sleeved dress shirts. Standing in front of the mirror with my hair dripping and the over-sized shirt concealing very little, I wondered if Jon would appreciate the image I presented.

I sauntered through the doorway wearing my heels, his shirt, and an old black tie still knotted and hanging loose around my neck. The shirt was transparent in places where my hair dripped water. It was glued to me like wet tissue paper. Jon's eyes lit up the moment he saw me. He licked his lips and stared.

He didn't have to say a word. The fire in his eyes said all I wanted to hear. He clicked the remote and turned off the television. I definitely had his undivided attention. In less than a heartbeat, he had me in his arms and was kissing me. The atmosphere fairly crackled, the heat was so intense. For a split second, I thought maybe, just maybe...

I heard a distant series of beeps. Then another. Jon stopped kissing me and sighed. He reached for the beeper he carried on his belt and squinted at the number. He pressed a button and slid it back into its sheath.

"I have to take this call," he said gruffly. He ran his hand longingly down my arm and disappeared into the bedroom. I could hear him speaking to someone in muffled tones. A moment later, he reappeared. He was pulling on a jacket.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I have to run an errand. I'll be back later. Don't wait up for me," he said as he gave me a quick peck on the lips and hurried out the door.

I was left to my own devices for the evening. I wondered what the call was all about. Everyone carried beepers in those days. Mostly oil-field workers. I knew Jon's beeper had nothing to do with his day job. He wasn't on call for any legitimate purpose that I knew about. I shrugged off the uneasy feeling, made myself a stiff drink and went to bed.

**********

Days came and went. I developed the habit of going home every other night to sleep. Roger never asked why I came home late most nights, or not at all. If he had, I had no clever or ready answer.

At Jon's suggestion, I kept some clothes at his house for the nights I stayed over. As well as a change to go out in, in case I needed them and didn't have time to go home first.

Jon didn't give me a key, but he made sure I knew where one was hidden in case I needed to get in and he wasn't home. He said it was the key his brother used.

The weekend came, and Jon and Ivan were ready to party as usual. I clocked out Friday evening around five-thirty, and went straight to Jon's where I showered and changed clothes. He smiled in approval at how well I "cleaned up". We drove separate cars to the bar, and walked in only seconds apart.

I stood at the bar between Jon and Ivan for most of the evening. Others who joined them seemed to accept my presence without question. Jon kept his arm around my waist and was overly attentive. Wherever Jon might have failed in making me the center of attention, Ivan more than made up for it. If Jon had taken me into the fold and Ivan approved, no one else would dare question it.

It was late in the evening when someone asked Jon where he had been all week. He was normally at the bar every evening at least through Happy Hour, but the past week he had been conspicuously absent, leaving Ivan to entertain the troops alone. Someone else observed that I had also been absent throughout the week. Conjectures were made. Jon and I neither confirmed nor denied the speculations.

We made a joint exit around midnight, with Jon's arm around me in the most protective manner, amid several knowing nods and comments of goodnight. Jon seemed to be ecstatic at how the other men envied his good taste in companions. "They're all jealous, you know," he said under his breath as he opened the main exit door for me. "Even Ivan," he added.

"Why?" I asked as the cold air hit us and he walked me to my car.

"Because of this," he said, pulling my coat tighter around me and looking down at me.

"What?" I asked somewhat puzzled.

"The way you look at me," he said. "No one has ever looked at me the way you do. And, they're all jealous. No one has ever looked at them that way either. Ivan even said so earlier tonight."

"Just how is it that I look at you?" I asked playfully.

"Like I'm the only one who matters. Like I am the only one who you want to be with. Ivan said you only tolerate him because he's my friend. You completely ignore the others like they don't even exist, " he said and ducked his head to kiss me again. He put me in my car and I followed him home for the night.

By the time we drove the two blocks and entered the apartment, Jon's mood seemed to have changed. He was pensive, and withdrawn. He turned on the music and made us a drink. "Do you mind if I smoke a joint?" he asked.

"Go ahead," I said waving my hand at him.

He retrieved a joint and we sat down on the couch while he smoked. When he finished it, he suggested we move to the bedroom. When we were in bed, and I was lying against his chest, he broke his silence.

"Why are you still here?" he asked. It wasn't a question of curiosity. He sounded almost irritated.

I was caught off guard. "Did you want me to go home?" I asked somewhat surprised by the change in his mood.

"No, but I didn't expect you to still be hanging around. It's been a couple of weeks. I figured you'd be tired of playing house by now," he said dully. He sounded depressed.

"I wasn't aware that we were playing anything. I took you at your word you wanted me here with you," I replied.

"I do, but I don't understand why you want to be here," he said. "I've had to explain my 'little problem' to a few girls in the past, and when I do, it's like I told them I'm fucking gay or some shit," he snarled with sarcasm. "They all want to fix me, or convert me, or something. Then when it doesn't work, they get pissed off or they get their feelings hurt and leave. You haven't done any of that, and you're still here. Why?" he demanded with obvious distrust.

"You haven't asked me to try to fix anything, and honestly, I don't think there's a way to fix things. I'm not even sure that anything is broken to begin with," I said. "Besides, I know what that's like," I added with a shrug.

Suddenly, Jon's temper flared out of control at me. He sat upright and began to almost shout at me. "Now, you could have said anything but that! How could a twenty year old girl know what it's like?" he demanded.

"Everything is fucking perfect in your world," he accused. "I don't need you to patronize me, and I sure as hell don't want your pity! Why don't you just get the fuck out of my bed? And, you can get the fuck out of my life while your at it, too!" he growled, throwing back the covers and standing up. He grabbed a cigarette and lit it while I lay there in stunned silence for a moment.

His words were unexpectedly vicious and hurtful. I sat up and stared, undecided about what I should do or say. Then anger and hurt set in. I jumped up and began grabbing up my clothes. I stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door. Tears were stinging my eyes as I fumbled to redress. I'd fallen in love with him, suddenly and without warning. It happened too quickly. Now, I was shocked that he had turned so cold.

I burst into tears as I redressed. "Never commit to anything, never tell them you love them, never kiss them," I recited the creed to myself in the privacy of the bathroom. I was chastising myself for having been so stupid. Again.

A moment passed and I heard a light tap at the door. "Cindy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it," he said in a low voice. I didn't answer, and he tapped again. He tried the door handle but found it locked. "Come on, now, honey. Open the door and talk to me," he coaxed. "I said I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean it," he pleaded in a soft voice through the door.

I pulled on the last of my clothes with tears streaming down my cheeks. I couldn't stop crying. I jerked the door open and he nearly fell through it. I allowed him time to recover his balance and I glared at him through the tears. He began to stutter another apology. I couldn't hear the apology because the demand for me to leave his life was still ringing in my ears.

"I'm out of your bed, and if you'll get the fuck out of my way, I'll be out of your life in just a few seconds!" I snarled as I pushed brusquely past him. I stomped to the living room and began gathering my things. He was close on my heels.

"I don't want you to go. You know I didn't mean that," he said following me from the bedroom. "It just pissed me off. I wasn't even really mad at you. Just at what you said. I was wrong and I apologize."

I pushed past him a second time, paying him no attention whatsoever. I was trying to locate my keys with little success. I was blind with tears, anger, and hurt. "Where are my fucking keys?" I snapped more to myself than at him.

Jon made another attempt to plead his case. He decided to be more aggressive in trying to reason with me on the matter. He grabbed my shoulders and said, "Please. I'm asking you not to go. I didn't mean it. It's just that you cannot possibly understand what it's like. You can't know how it feels to want someone as much as I want you, and there's nothing I can do about it. You don't know what it's like to not be able to..." he stopped in embarrassment.

"You're wrong, Jon. Dead wrong," I said before I could stop myself. "I know exactly what it's like! But, I don't use that as an excuse to lash out and hurt other people."

"What?" he asked as I jerked away from him and continued my search.

"What did you just say?" he asked again, but I refused to answer him. I found my keys and grabbed up my purse, slung it over my shoulder, and headed for the door. He stepped up, blocking the exit, and demanded, "You're not leaving until you answer me. What did you just say?"

I stopped and confronted him, face to face. "I said, you're wrong, Jon. I know how that feels." He was staring at me in confusion and disbelief.

"I know exactly how you spend your nights alone, frustrated and angry. Wanting to just be in someone's arms without having to explain or fight about it. Waking up and wondering why the hell you even keep trying. Feeling like no one else in the world has a clue and feeling like nobody else cares how you feel. You feel cheated, Jon. Cheated out of some great part of life that everyone else seems to take for granted. Everyone but you," I said ending my tirade. "Now, get out of my way. I'm getting out of your life, Jon, just like you said." I shoved against his shoulder in an attempt to push him aside.

"You can't possibly know that," he whispered.

"Can't I?" I challenged him. "How much was I wrong about?" I hissed.

Suddenly, it was if a light of understanding turned on. He looked defeated and he reached out and pulled me into his arms. "Oh, my god! I am so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I had no idea. Please, don't go! Not now."

His arms closed around me and I lost all control of my emotions. I leaned against him and cried. I'm not sure how long we stood there just holding one another, but it was a long while. The phone rang.

"Aren't you going to get that?" I asked, pulling away from him and wiping at my face.

"Let it ring," he said.

"Jon, it's late. It could be about your kids," I pointed out.

"If I answer it, will you promise not to leave until I get off?" he asked running a finger down my cheek and under my chin. I nodded, and he answered the phone. It was Ivan. He informed Jon that someone was at the bar looking for me. A man.

"It's not her husband, is it?" Jon asked. Ivan must have said no. "Then don't worry about it. Just let it go. But, thanks for the heads up. Okay, talk to you later," Jon said and hung up.

"Do you know who it might have been?" he asked.

"Probably my friend, Daniel. He's due back from Saudi," I said with dull interest. "I'll call him tomorrow."

Jon nodded. He reached and took my hand in his. "Will you forgive me and stay with me tonight?" he asked.

"I don't know, Jon. Maybe I should just go. Before something else gets said that shouldn't. I don't want to lose you as a friend. It isn't worth it to me," I told him.

"You're never going to lose me, honey. Sometimes, friends say hurtful things that they don't mean and they can't take back. But, they forgive one another's stupidity. I don't know what else we can have, but I know we at least have that. Come on back to bed with me. We'll talk," he said coaxing me to follow him.

I could never stay angry or upset with Jon for long, but his undressing me for a second time that night lost its romantic appeal.

He lay down on the bed and pulled me onto his chest. "You never said you forgive me. Do you?" he asked rubbing my back gently. I nodded against him. "Will you talk to me?" he asked. I didn't answer. "You listened to me. I just have some questions. Do you feel like talking?" he asked again.