The Other Katie

She made the small sound again, and then she said, mournfully, "Why didn't we do this earlier? But only now that it's too late already."

"Too late for what?" he said. "Making love? Yeah, it probably is. But is it about that, though?"

"No," she said slowly. "No it isn't. You know it feels really good to hear you say you love me."

"Good," he said. "I mean it as well. So, you know, you're not alone, even when we're not together. I'll always have you. I just wanna make it right for you. All of you."

"You're much gentler than I thought," she said, there was a smile in her voice. He smiled when he recognized her words, the same words she had used so long ago, after they first got close to each other.

"What can I say," he said. "I don't like it rough. But I can try if you wanna."

She laughed a little and straightened her back, put her hands on his cheeks, caressed him slowly. He had gotten wrinkly and his skin wasn't very yielding anymore, her hands were covered with this old woman skin that was a little like thin paper, but her touch was the same, gentle and loving, her soft palms, her long fingers.

"Oh, Billy," she said. "You wanna stay the night?"

"Guess what, I do," he said. "But you know, I really don't think I can get it up anymore, so I hope you won't be disappointed in me."

"Nah, I just wanna hold you," she said. "Would that be alright?"

"It really would," he said. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too," she said.

They turned to go inside together.

"You wanna eat casserole?" she asked. "I have one in the oven."

"I'd love that," he said.

"Do you think you need to check in?" she asked. "To your kids or someone?"

"Nah, I live alone," he said. "Besides, they'll be cross with me when they realize I've escaped to not distance myself from you."

"Yeah, they probably will," she said and smiled. "Mine will, as well."

He lifted his hand on her back and smiled back at her.

It was so easy to be with her. They were both so old and weary now, there were all sorts of aches and inconveniences they had to adjust to, but it was the same for both of them, and if anything it gently amused them to compare their ailments. And when they were getting ready for bed he sat on the edge of their bed and asked, "So can I look at you now?"

"Yeah you can," she said gently and started to undress herself. She did it slowly but it wasn't a strip tease, she just removed her clothes and then she stood looking at him looking at her.

She was old now. She was wrinkly and sagging and her waist wasn't as slim as it had been in her younger years, her pubic hair had gone silvery gray like her hair.

"You're so beautiful," he said. There was genuine admiration in his voice and she smiled.

"But I'm old and wrinkly," she said.

"So am I," he said. "You wanna see?"

He got up from the bed and came to her with her nightgown, pulled it gently over her head. And then he undressed himself until he stood naked in front of her.

"See?" he said. "Wanna compare which is wrinklier?"

"You've always been so supportive of my body," she said. "How can I have forgotten about it."

"I've just always loved it," he said. "It's just perfect. It's yours and that makes it so right."

"Oh, honey," she said. "And you've always been so supportive of all of me. I don't know why I was afraid to tell you."

"You're just you," he said. "Everything about you is just as it should be and always was."

"Oh, honey," she said again, quietly.

She touched his side, slid it down towards his hips, tugged gently at the loose skin by his pelvic ridge, swept gently at his genitals. He stirred in response.

"Guess I better put my briefs back on," he said. "You're gonna take advantage of me if I don't."

"Yeah," she said, "Sorry."

He put his briefs back on and she went to pull the covers aside.

"You wanna borrow a t-shirt or something?" she asked

.

"I'd rather have you touch my skin, if you don't mind," he said.

"Oh, honey," she said. "I will. Just come here."

And so they settled in bed. She pulled him close like she had always done, into her arms, and he still fit there just like he had always done. It was almost dark and he couldn't have seen her face even if he had tried. It felt amazing to have her hold him, and he relaxed, he felt so warm and safe, loved. He didn't long for carnal delights anymore and rarely even the tenderness and comfort of being this close to someone, but this felt right, just absolutely right.

"Katie?" he said.

"Mmh," she answered.

"It's you now, isn't it?" he asked, almost certain of himself, and he knew he wouldn't need to explain what he meant.

"Yes," she responded, drowsy but alert.

"Was it always you? Holding me like this?" he asked.

"Almost always," she said. She put her fingers in his hair, and he turned his head just a little, to kiss her wrist.

"Thank you for telling me your story," he said. "It meant a lot to me."

"It meant a lot to me, too," she said.

"I know," he said. "I'm so proud of you that you were so brave."

She made a small, bashful sound but didn't reply.

"I wanna tell you a story as well," he said.

"Oh?" she said. "What about?"

"You and me," he said.

"Oh," she said, clearly a little reserved now.

"I guess it's the same story you told me," he said, talking softly to keep the pressure off. He wanted to talk with her but wasn't sure how difficult it was for her to stay now that she knew he knew. "It was the first night you ever held me like this. And it felt really good, I felt so warm and safe and loved. I still feel like it, this feels exactly the same. And I didn't know it at the time, but it was something I've missed throughout my life, I've longed for this every single day I haven't been with you. And you know there's been a lot of those days."

"Oh," she said again. Stroked his hair thoughtfully.

"So," he said, "I'm so glad you told me. I can't imagine that was easy, no matter how much you've gone through it in your mind. But I understand it better now, us, how it sometimes felt like I couldn't reach you so well and other times it felt like this. And I think that as much as I love all of you it's you I love the most."

She made a small sound and tensed up a bit, and he waited to see if she would say something. And then she sobbed.

"Oh, honey," he said. "I hope I didn't upset you. I really didn't mean to."

She was crying now, and he scrambled upwards to take hold of her in turn. He gathered her into his arms and held her, stroked her, kissed her hair.

"Hush, baby girl," he said. "Please don't cry. I love you."

"Please do," she said and sobbed. "I need it so much."

So he held her, tried to be gentle and express all his love and tenderness to her. And he felt like he could reach her, that even if she was crying this was doing her good and not bad, and she received his comfort and relaxed into his arms.

--#--#--#--#--#--

They were together after that. Not every day but most days. Their children disapproved of it at first, then came to the conclusion that if neither one of them was sick it was probably okay if they socially distanced themselves together. It didn't make much difference, because they wouldn't have let them affect their decisions anyway.

They even made love a few times. It turned out they still had it in them, albeit it was much slower and gentler than in their youth, harder to get going, slower to finish. But mostly they didn't, because as he had pointed out it wasn't about that between them, maybe it never had been but now even less than before.

He never asked which one of her he was talking to at any given time. He didn't even try to guess himself, it didn't matter much to him. But he loved her most at night, when they held each other, and he was certain of who it was he was holding then.