The Sara Chronicles

Forty minutes later we were heading off to the Pittsburgh office, humming along rapidly while mindlessly looking through messages on our tablets. Sara leaned back in her seat after shoving things back in her brief case. The ride had been fairly silent. Actually, it had been far too silent. She turned to sit sideways in her seat and just looked at me. It was that same look she seemed to often give me. It was her, 'So when are we going to talk about this?' look. "Okay. What?" I asked finally as the unbearable silence of her stare ultimately broke me.

"Jim, why do you shut people out?"

"You keep saying that. Just what do you mean?" I replied.

"You don't seem to want to be open about yourself in any of your relationships. You don't talk about things almost as if you're denying that anyone means anything to you. It's like the day after you first kissed me all over again. I feel like I have to drag information out of you." She spoke with mild frustration at me. I guess it was true. Maybe I did learn a few things about myself with Teresa and this was one of the things she pointed out often.

"I really don't mean to be that way. I guess I just don't communicate all that well. Especially about my feelings. But if you're asking about last night.... okay, what do you want to know? You're still great in the sack." I pointed out, trying to lighten the mood. She reached over and slapped my shoulder playfully.

"That's not what I was asking. ...but thanks. So why don't you just say what you feel?" she pressed.

"I don't know. I guess I've been burned so often by telling people how I feel and then getting the rug pulled out from under me. ... or a moving van comes and takes them away.... or a moving van comes and takes me away." I guess I shouldn't have stuck the extra dig in, but it was too late. Rather than let her jump on that, I continued. "Okay, here it is. I've been in love with you since that night we shared in the bar when you dumped your whole story on me. We both know that you being in Kansas City was the right thing for you at that time. And we both know that any real relationship between us other than friendship wouldn't work. Good god, I'm old enough to retire soon. But right now I feel like I'm headed toward yet another crash when you take off tomorrow."

"So you see our relationship as only one thing or another. Either we have to be bitching at each other having no connection at all or we have to be a full fledged couple? Why can't we just let it be what it is; just good friends who enjoy sleeping together every so often."

She was right. Damn, I hate it when she is that right. Yet it's a turn on that she's right. I guess I am kind of screwed up. Maybe my puritan upbringing or my perception of how relationships should be made me think that I couldn't enjoy letting this just be what it was. "You're right." I didn't say anything more. I couldn't say anymore. Just expressed that she was right. I'm not sure if she was confused by my response or if it just shocked her that I had given up so easily.

"I'm right in what way?"

"I admit it. Maybe it's just my generation. Maybe it's just that I'm kind of old school about things. But you're right. I have a hard time thinking of letting our relationship be just an occasional thing without needing it to be a permanent thing."

"God Jim, our timing sucks. When you were married I wasn't. Now that I'm married, you're single." she mused.

"Yeah, timing sucks. I was a kid in the early 60s and you were a kid in the late 80s."

She rolled her eyes at me, sarcastically, and continued, "You never take anything seriously. It drives me nuts sometimes, you know that, right?"

"I am being serious. It's seriously funny that our timing sucks." I shot back.

She leaned forward and took my arm like she had so often in the final days of our travel together. "If our timing didn't suck maybe things would have been different." she spoke quietly.

"Maybe so. If that was the case, we would have been great together." I put my hand over her's as she drew my arm toward her. We were approaching the main office tower and pulled down the ramp into the basement parking garage. Val parked the car and the lights on the dashboard monitors dimmed.

Sara leaned over and kissed me. "Thank you for last night. I've been kind of lonely lately. I needed my old friend. And I'm not talking about what happened in the middle of the night." she spoke almost solemnly.

My sarcastic nature kicked in and I couldn't resist responding. "Thank you for last night. I've been kind of horny lately and I needed my old friend......" I tried to continue, almost mocking her romance novel comments.

She shoved me away from her in comical frustration. "Why the fuck can't you be serious for just one minute." she exclaimed as she started to get out of the car. She mumbled humorously to herself all the way through the garage.

I got out and followed her to the elevator. "What? I'm serious! I needed it" I continued knowingly pushing her buttons. We were alone in the garage as we waited by the elevator doors.

While she was still mumbling to herself, making ridicule of my lack of seriousness, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to me. I kissed her deeply. And she responded. We stood there, two grown adults, kissing like school kids before the bell rang. The bell was the chime of the elevator doors opening. Fortunately the elevator was empty.

Arriving on my floor, the elevator doors opened. My hand was over Sara's as she held onto the railing along the back wall of the elevator. I squeezed her hand gently as I got off, knowing she would be going on to the next floor above to a temp suite we used for short term and visiting executives.

I barely stepped off the elevator when Kimbre saw me. She didn't attack or say anything. She just stood up, walked casually over to the door of my office and stood in front of the doorknob. She folded her arms and nonchalantly leaned back against the doorframe, making it impossible for me to enter without going through her. She turned slightly away from me, acting like she hadn't seen me coming and that she wasn't interested in talking to me. But knowing Kimbre, talking to me was the point.

"Okay, what's this all about?" I asked somewhat bewildered.

"Oh, you owe me some kind of explanation here. First you never mention that you know one of the regional directors personally. Then I find out that she was your intern. Last night she walked into your office and without warning, she was all over you. And then I find out this morning that you may or may not have had some kind of affair with her." Kimbre's accent made the comment almost humorous. I tried not to laugh at her animated comments. But what wasn't humorous to me since this means someone in the building still knows our little history and opened their mouths to tell Kimbre.

"Maybe we should take this inside. Get your tablet first, because I want you to take a couple of memos too." Kimbre moved quickly around me, a bit anxious knowing she was about to get the scoop on what was taking place. As she stepped over to her desk to get her memo tablet, I stepped into my office and shut the door behind me; playfully locking it.

Even before I had gotten to my desk, Kimbre was unlocking the door with her key. I knew she wouldn't be stopped, but thought I'd at least slow her down. "Not so fast 'bucko'! Kimbre barked. It was a common phrase I used around the office she was mocking. "You're going to tell me the truth or I'll assume the gossip mill around here IS the truth." she spit as she marched across the room toward my desk.

"Okay, it's true. Sara was my intern. We had an affair. She moved. I didn't. Life goes on. Need anything else?" I summarized a summer's affair in a sentence that would fit in a Tagit post. I sat down in my chair and with a couple of swipes of my desk computer station; the screens behind the desk and the one embedded in the desktop sprang to life. I called up the morning stock reports and began gathering a print copy of a team audit report to review.

But Kimbre wasn't satisfied. "So you're tellin me that you and Ms. Taylor were knocking boots?" When she got sarcastic she would switch to a fake Jamaican accent. She was often mistaken for Jamaican so it became her way of responding to cultural ignorance.

"Knocking boots??!? No, most of the time as I recall, we didn't wear shoes at all. In fact most of the time we were naked. Well except for that time on the rooftop balcony of the Embassy Suites.... but let's not talk about that one."

Kimbre gave a phony facial expression of agony, "God you had to put that image in my head. My old white guy boss, naked in bed with his boss."

"Hey, at the time, I'll have you know, she was not my boss. It was twelve years ago!"

But it didn't matter. Kimbre was snidely shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. "Just have to get that image out of my brain." She mocked.

"So let me get this straight. You had an affair with Sara. And Lacie said she thinks that Ms. Taylor is staying at your house while she's in town. And you made it to work on time?" Lacie cares for the reservations and reimbursement of travel for those of our office. Obviously Sara had only turned in meals and let her know she would not need hotel reimbursement.

"Yes, Sara is staying at my house. And we got plenty of sleep last night. Well, we got enough sleep at least." I replied taunting Kimbre a bit at this point.

With that Kimbre gave me the hand, "I don't want to hear about it. What you and your kinky, fine, self do outside of the office is just okay with me. But don't you be coming in here and making me cover for you." She started to march out of the office, her hips swinging as she went.

"What? Jealous?" I shouted back at her as she went. Kimbre reached back and shot me the middle finger as she closed the door behind her. Having her around the office has kept me sane at times.

She poked her head back in the door and in a much more professional manner said, "You're 9:00 appointment is moved to 9:30. But you can't let Tom ramble on. You have a Team meeting at 10 in room 3111 with the group that completed the United Healthcare consult. The report is over on the table. And at 1:00 you meet with Brian about the contracts with Penn State's Heritage Foundation grant. The specs were messaged to Val yesterday."

"Can you see that Sara and I can get reservations for dinner at Mura's tonight? Tell them I want booth 6 please."

"Mura's? Are you kidding? You're taking you're rich bitch to Mura's?" she quizzed.

"First of all, Sara isn't rich. And if you must know, Mura's is where I first met her." I replied, not looking up from the files I was collecting for the upcoming meeting.

"Oh, my god, that's so sweet that if I was diabetic, I'd be going into shock right now." she replied in exaggerated detail before closing the door again.

The day seemed to drag along as I waded through a pile of reports and reams of spreadsheets giving detailed projections. Highlighted indicators on various pages pointed out areas needing attention. The droning on of each team leader seemed to frustrate me. Endless numbers, stats, and recommendations were poured out in waves.

As a young accountant thirty years earlier when I started on one of these teams, it all seemed so important. It seemed exciting and refreshing to dig into a company's statistical results and provide analysis of their operations. But now, nearing retirement and feeling the effects of cancer, it all seemed so pointless. Building companies for what reason?

Brian entered my office a few minutes late. It didn't seem to bother me that he was late, although it was a surprise to him that I made no mention of it. I had a tendency to push him a bit. Brian had been somewhere nearby for nearly twenty years now. I pushed Brian for a reason. Several reasons actually. He was more capable than he gave himself credit for and I knew he would be a likely candidate for my position when the time came. He had led a field team for a couple of years when I moved him to a newly created position dealing with major educational grant funding. He was dealing with a ninety million dollar grant to Pitt for a new nursing school mock emergency room facility.

He barely hesitated with greetings when he started into the review. "Everything seems to be ready to roll, boss. They have met the primary outcome objectives, although the jury is still out on post-construction operational costs. The figures on the electrical grid don't seem to add up correctly for a three phase drop. Allegheny Power is looking into the discrepancy in their billing figures."

As he spoke my mind drifted. He was the closest thing to a friend that I had in life. We had traveled together for years before he became a team leader and I move to Dan's position. I guess I was to him what Dan was to me; the mentor and trusted advisor. At that moment I realized that when I was gone, the business would be in good hands. And the business would probably never miss me.

He paused noticing that I wasn't really engrossed in his analysis.

"Everything alright?" he questioned.

"Sure, everything is fine." I quickly responded, not wanting to appear like I wasn't listening.

"So should I continue?"

"Has everything in the grant requirement been met?" I queried.

"Yeah. They'll ask a few questions about the engineering report. The structure is close to some old mine activity but the design firm stands by their dynamics report."

"And you're satisfied with it?" I added.

"Absolutely. Thrasher Engineering has always worked well with us. They've been pretty thorough in their reporting. It's one of the most detailed reports we've ever worked with." he concluded.

"Then run with it." I saw the confusion in his eyes. We've known each other for too long.

"Okay, Jim, does this have something to do with Sara being here?" The confusion in his voice was obvious. Brian was one of the few employees that had been with me the whole time. He knew more about the situation than he had ever spoken. It wasn't his nature to get into water cooler gossip around the office. But he wasn't oblivious.

"So you know she's in town." I questioned.

"Who doesn't? When the lights go on in 34A the whole building knows." 34A was the executive suite Sara was using. The employees would often joke about 34A having the lights on as a way of saying that some international big wig from the company was in town for meetings. It was somewhat separate from the rest of the company so we used it for meeting confidentially with more private clients as well.

Brian closed the portfolio and collected the piles of paper. He poked a few buttons on the side of the conference table turning off the embedded video screen that had been displaying topographical maps of the new construction. "Jim, you know I'm more OCD than to just summarize these reports. But this one is a slam dunk." he said as he tossed his tablet computer onto the pile of papers. He sat back in his chair and paused almost as if he was questioning whether or not he should broach the subject.

He put his arm up on the back of the chair, becoming much more casual. His eyes penetrated my brain for a second before he spoke. "What's going on with you?" he asked. "You've never given me a pass on a report without busting my balls about something. And you've absolutely never said 'just run with it' before hearing the details. We've known each other too long so I know something is going on" I had tried to deflect his questions at first by not responding. He wasn't buying it.

"You're a big boy now. You don't need me looking over your shoulder. Frankly, you never did." I finally said. "You're one of the few that I've never needed to second guess or keep an eye on to make sure you'd do the job right."

"This isn't about the Pitt grant. What's going on?" he pressed.

I finally gave in, knowing that of all the people in the company that I could trust, it was Brian. "It's cancer and it's not good." I blurted it out somewhat casually as if to be complaining about the potential for rain this afternoon.

THE LAST EVENING IN PITTSBURGH

Dinner at Mura's was pretty typical. Well, actually, it was pretty bad. But having vented some of our frustrations the previous morning and having gotten laid last night made us both a bit easier to get along with. The conversation over dinner felt more like the good old days than the cold war that had followed. Sara was even impressed that we were sitting at booth six again.

We arrived back at the house as daylight was fading. Leaves were turning and occasionally falling along the road. It wouldn't be long before the trees would be barren again. Fall was coming; like it or not. It was almost symbolic. It wouldn't be long before Sara would leave, making life a bit more barren too. As we entered the house we both could feel the angst that it wouldn't be long before our short reunion was over. "If it's not to forward of me, I'll move my things up here to your room." She spoke, looking me right in the eye to gauge my response.

"I was hoping you would. But I wasn't assuming anything." I replied.

She left her things piled on the dining room table and went to get her things. Rummaging through the kitchen, I discovered an unopened bottle of white wine that I had forgotten about. I pulled a few glasses down from the cabinet and set things out. Heading into the bedroom, I took off my sports jacket and tie. From the walk in closet I could hear Sara putting her things in the bedroom. The lights and fan in the bathroom came on. My mind was awash with memories. For a few moments as I undressed, the hurt of being alone passed.

At this point we were past the uncertainty. So being a bit less shy, I walked back into the bedroom wearing only my boxers. Sara was sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from me. She was wearing only her panties, the black lace waist band gracing her hips, and she was taking off her hose. Her brown hair cascaded down her back, contrasting how fair skinned she was.

As she finished and stood to turn to me I spoke. "I found a bottle of wine. Would you like a glass?"

"Oh, thank god." She blurted out. Of course I understood her frustration with my careful nature around alcohol. "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. Yes, I'd love a glass of wine." she continued.

"It's on the counter. If you don't mind, would you open the wine for us. I have to take care of this." I said, pointing to my lower back. "It's time to strap that thing on again. I'll have a glass too."

She stepped over to where I was standing with a momentary grin on her face. The fact that I was having a drink too caught her off guard. She gave me a hug, the warmth of her breasts against my chest caused my heart to stop briefly. "You put that thing on and I'll make sure you don't think about it." she whispered. Then she kissed my chest and headed for the kitchen. Walking out of the bedroom, I got a lovely view of her ass. The black panties cut high enough that her ass was fully exposed. Still a gorgeous woman to me at any age.

After strapping on the radiation treatment and spending a few minutes in the bathroom, I walked out to the living room. Sara had opened the double doors to the deck, letting the cooler fall air breeze through the room. Music was playing from a familiar playlist interrupted only by the sound of the rustling of the trees just outside. The kitchen was lit only by two under the cabinet lights giving a warm glow to the room as sunset had passed. She was about to pour two glasses of wine. I leaned back against the countertop just watching her, soaking in her beauty.

She turned, handing me a glass of wine and then reaching back to take hers. After taking a sip she playfully took my hand and led me toward the living room. She placed me in front of my easy chair and she stood close to me, taking another sip of wine before placing her glass on the coffee table. She had a somewhat mischievous smile on her face as she sat down on the coffee table in front of me. I was a bit self conscious standing there with the medical device strapped around my body. But it didn't stop her. She took my boxers in her hands by the sides and began tugging them down to my ankles. She pulled on them indicating that she wanted them all the way off. So I stepped out of them.