Unfinished Melody

She held her breath as his fingers ran over her breasts. Then a slight gasp as his thumbs softly grazed her sensitive nipples.

"Are you sure?" His voice broke the quiet of the room.

She could see his face, illuminated by the pale lamplight. Jill didn't answer, not with words. She reached up and brought his face down to hers. She moved her lips to his and thrust her tongue deep into his mouth. Jill wanted him to know that this is want she wanted, she pressed her body firmly against his. A momentary thrill passed through her when she felt his erection pressing against her. She was glad she made him feel this way.

George's hands played over her breasts, the color of pearls in the glow of the lamp. Her nipples tightened as George, cupped her breasts in his hands, leaned down and kissed each one, drawing them into his mouth.

Jill tugged at her night gown, held up only by the gentle swell of her hips, and it fell to the floor, a puddle of soft pink at her feet. She stepped out of it and took a few paces until her calves touched the edge of the bed.

Her eyes traveled from George's eyes, down over his naked chest. She felt a tinge of giddy excitement when her eyes stopped at the bulge in his boxers. Jill smiled at the hearts, and reached out for George's hands, and pulled him towards her. She hooked her thumbs in his waistband, and tugged downwards.

George stepped out of his boxers and pulled Jill close. She let out a soft sigh as their bodies came together. Jill could feel the heat of his excitement, and it was only matched by the fire that was burning within her.

They slipped in between the cool sheets of the bed. Their gentle caresses were becoming more urgent as their kisses deepened even more. Jill felt a surge of passion when George's hand traveled between her legs and touched her with a gentleness she had never experienced.

Jill reached between his legs, and stroked him, relishing the velvety smoothness of his skin, the hardness of him. She scarcely recognized her own voice when she whispered to George, "Take me, I want you."

---

The coffee shop sat next door to the motel. George and Jill sat in a booth at the back. Jill hadn't realized how hungry she was until George had suggested they get something to eat. She had been planning on grabbing some supper after leaving the bar, but the non-functioning car had changed that plan.

"I'll get the keys to the van, and we can see about getting your car running," George suggested as he finished his second cup of coffee.

"That sounds like a good idea. Then, we can have the rest of the day to be together. Oh, unless you need to be with the band today?" Jill wanted to spend the entire weekend with him, but she didn't want him to feel obligated to be with her.

"Nope. We usually try to rehearse on Mondays and Wednesdays. It's tough on the guys that sing to rehearse and then have to perform. I'd much rather spend my free time with a pretty girl and you're the prettiest one I've seen in quite a while."

Jill searched his face for a sign that he was teasing her, but there was none. A soft blush crossed over her face, she hesitated for a moment, then leaned over and kissed George softly on the cheek. "Thank you, George."

He smiled at Jill, "Thanks for what?"

"For thinking that I'm pretty."

After leaving the diner, they had climbed into the van that the band traveled in, and drove to where Jill had left her car. George peered underneath the hood, and seemed to be wiggling wires.

"Well?" Jill asked.

"The battery cables seem to be a bit loose. Let me grab a wrench and see what tightening them up does."

Jill watched as George retrieved a battered, red toolbox from the van. After cleaning the battery terminals, and tightening the cables, George wiped his hands on a greasy rag and looked at Jill. "Okay, get in and see if it will start."

Jill emptied her purse on the hood of the car, looking for her keys. A pang of anxiety came over her. The keys were the link to her life, she wouldn't have missed last night for anything, but eventually she supposed she'd have to get back to the real world, to her real life. She couldn't stay here forever, no matter how much she wished she could. Eventually she'd have to face reality, to get married to Mark, but not right now, not today. Today she would stay with man she'd slept with last night, the one who was perfect for her.

"Let's see. I seem to have everything but the keys. Brush. Lipstick. Pens," Jill named each object as she placed it on the car. "Oh, and a camera with one picture left. I'm not sure why I'm carrying that around. One picture isn't going to do me much good."

We could have Bo take our picture. A souvenir of your trip to beautiful downtown ... whatever the name of this town is," George joked.

"You know. I like that idea. Something to remember you by," Jill replied. "But let's not wait for Bo. It's a bright sunshiny morning and Bo seems like the type to sleep in. I'll just take this last one myself. Smile." Jill's smile was radiant, as was George's as the camera clicked and began the whirring that signaled the film was rewinding.

"Wow! That really was the last one. I hope it turns out," George said.

"Me, too," Jill answered. "Aha! Keys."

Jill climbed behind the wheel and turned the key. The car started up almost immediately.

"George, you're wonderful," Jill said, leaning her head out the open window.

"Let it run for a couple of minutes and you should be fine."

"Thank you once again, George," Jill said, as they walked away from her car.

"You're welcome. I never turn down an opportunity to rescue a damsel in distress. And speaking of damsels, what would you like to do today?"

"It's a beautiful day. I want to spend it outside with you. Maybe there's a park nearby. You could push me on the swings." Jill smiled up at him as they strolled, holding hands along the sidewalk.

And then, could you play that song for me again?"

"Which one?" George asked.

"Your gum song. I really liked that one."

---

Jill glanced sideways for a moment, grateful that her daughter was watching the show on the stage. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes as she watched George, and remembered the passion that weekend. She had fallen in love with George that first night. Now, over two decades later, she felt that love resurface.

She remembered the warm tingling in her stomach when he'd look at her and smile. How he had carried his acoustic guitar to the park after getting her car running. He had played for her, and had occasionally sung to her as well.

"These guys are good," Rachel leaned over and spoke into her mother's ear.

Jill was barely aware that the song had ended. Her mind had been awash in a tide of memories. She nodded, but didn't turn her head, her eyes remained locked on George as she replied. "Yes, they are quite good."

She had sat at the same table that night, her eyes rarely straying from George as he played. After he had finished for the night, they had headed back to his motel room. Their lovemaking was different on the second night. There was none of the apprehension, or anxiety of the first time. It had started quietly, the passion slowly building until their bodies had locked together, driving and moving as one.

The memories made her feel warm, and she smiled as she remembered the next morning.

---

Her eyes opened. Faint shadows bathed the room, dawn still an hour or less away. Good, she thought, as long as it's still night, I can stay here for just one more hour. Just one more day. Just one more lifetime. She listened to his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Jill's head was still lying on George's shoulder, and his arm still wrapped around her. Jill watched the darkness of the world outside slip away and with it the best night she'd ever had. It was morning, the perfect time was finished, and she had a decision to make.

"Good morning." George's eyes had opened, and he laid a soft kiss on her cheek.

His boyish grin made her smile in return. "Good morning to you, too."

"Are you hungry?"

"Come to think of it, I'm famished," Jill responded.

"Should we get dressed, or would you like breakfast in bed?"

Mark had never offered her breakfast in bed. More often than not, she was the one out of bed and making coffee or breakfast for the both of them.

Jill smiled and put her finger on her chin as if she was trying to come to a difficult decision. "I think—I'll choose..." She kissed George on the cheek. "Breakfast in bed!"

George gave her another kiss and swung his legs out of the bed. "Breakfast in bed it is! And what would like for breakfast?"

She thought as she watched him pull his pants, and t-shirt on. "Waffles, with blueberries, and strawberries with lots of whipped cream, orange juice, and a cup of coffee." Jill thought for a moment, and then added. "And a guitar player to share it with."

George leaned over the bed and gave Jill a gentle kiss on the lips. "I think I can arrange all that."

As soon as the door closed behind him, Jill went into the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth. She ran her comb through her tangled curls and began to look in her bag for a fresh set of clothes. No, she thought, fastening the suitcase again without taking out anything. I'm not quite ready for this time to end. Give me just a little more time here, here with him. Today I won't think about what awaits me outside these four walls, this little hotel room, tomorrow and for the rest of my life. Today is just for George and me. A day for us.

She climbed back into bed, smoothing the linens around her and folding them back for George to slide into when he returned. She smiled as she heard the key turning in the lock.

George was carrying a large tray with two covered plates, two glasses of orange juice, a decanter of coffee, two mugs, and a glass of water with two daisies.

"Flowers!" Jill's face burst into a wide smile.

George blushed softly. "Well, I thought a pretty girl needed some pretty flowers to go along with her breakfast."

She had thought it comical at first sight, the two flowers hanging somewhat haphazardly in the water glass, but the expression on George's face changed how she felt. They weren't comical at all. They were absolutely perfect. She didn't think of herself as being pretty, but if the look in George's eyes was any indication, he thought she was pretty and today, for him, she was pretty.

"Thank you, George. That was very sweet of you." Her voice was soft and sincere.

George removed his clothing and slipped back into the bed. He slid the tray across their laps, and with the aid of the short legs on each side of the tray, the whole contraption was remarkably steady.

"And, voila!" George removed the covers from the plates.

Two plates with waffles, fresh blue berries, fresh strawberries and a mountain of whipped cream met Jill's eyes.

"Now, that's what I call a lot of whipped cream!"

"The waitress looked at me funny when I told her triple whipped cream." George chuckled as he mimicked the waitress' southern drawl. "You want triple whipped cream on both of y'all's orders. I'll have to charge y'all extry for that."

Jill sat straight up in bed, and after a couple of mouthfuls of waffle, fruit, and whipped cream, abandoned her tight grip on the sheets, letting them slide over the tops of her breasts and then down to her waist. She felt herself blush and was grateful that George made no comment on her nudity. She felt comfortable with him. It was if sitting in bed, naked and eating breakfast was the natural thing to do.

"The berries are delicious." George commented.

"Yes," Jill nodded. "And the whipped cream tastes real, not that dream whip stuff."

George turned towards Jill. "Hold still, you've got a dab of whipped cream on your nose."

He leaned over and licked the bit of whipped cream from the tip of her nose."

The feeling of his tongue on her nose made her want to giggle. "That was very gentlemanly of you."

She wanted him again. A mischievous spark burned in her eyes as she dabbed a bit of whipped cream on her nipple, it felt cool, and she could feel her nipple crinkle up as it grew erect. Jill turned to George, and with a look of innocence on her face, she said, "Oh, oh. We don't want to waste any of it."

George leaned over and licked the drop from her nipple, lingering a bit longer to savor the taste of her along with the whipped cream. He kissed her other breast, his tongue gliding over her taut nipple. "This one is just as sweet without the cream."

"Look," she said, taking a small berry, covered in cream, on the tip of her spoon and dropping it onto his chest right above his nipple. "I dropped some. I'll need to clean that up. I'd hate for you to get all sticky." With that, she leaned over and licked the fruit from his chest and lapped at his erect nipple. "Much better," she said with a smile.

Jill giggled, took her spoon and dropped a blueberry with some more whipped cream on her other breast. She opened her eyes in mock surprise and said, "Oops."

Leaning over, his captured the blueberry and took it into his mouth. His tongue lapped up the whipped cream and once it was gone, he broke the blueberry between his teeth and aloud the purplish blue juice to dribble over her erect pink nipple. George's hand squeezed her firm breast as he took her nipple into his mouth and began to suck on it.

George set the tray down on the floor, but kept one of the plates and a spoon on the bed. He slid the sheets down, and they lay there on the bed, naked.

Jill's eyes drank in the sight of his naked body, and she was glad to see that he already had an erection.

She giggled as he trailed a line of whipped cream down from her breasts and over her stomach.

"Oops." George smiled mischievously before moving his mouth over her breasts, lapping up the sweet cream with his tongue before he continued down her body.

---

Everyone had looked so happy on that day. Her father, and Mark's father beamed proudly, while both of the mothers cried. The church was perfect, as were the flowers.

Anne had helped her get dressed and had given her a hug. "You both are so lucky. What I wouldn't give to be in your shoes."

Jill had forced herself to smile. "Yes, I am lucky."

She wished she could have told Anne about George, but knew Anne would never approve, or understand. Most likely, she would have felt compelled to tell Mark.

Something he had said to her a few days before the wedding stuck in her mind as she stood in the front of the church beside him.

"I can't wait to make you my wife," he had said.

His wife. Did that mean she would belong to him? As she listened to the minister and looked at Mark, she couldn't help but think he looked like a man who was about to own a new Buick.

The minister smiled warmly as he asked, "Do you, Jillian Marie, take this man to be your wedded husband."

As her voice answered, "Yes," her mind screamed, 'No! I want George.'

---

"And now, we let our guitar player sing." The lead singer of band joked. "We have to, he signs the checks."

"Thank you," George stepped forward to a microphone. "For that heartfelt introduction." There was a warm smile on George's face.

The smile, and the eyes, they were still the same. The hair was shorter, and bit of grey sprang from it.

"This song is for someone special," George's hands moved to his guitar. "So, Jill, wherever you are, this is for you."

George began to play, and over twenty years of time vanished. Tears welled up in Jill's eyes and began to flow down her cheeks. She was astonished that after all this time that he had remembered her. And then he began to sing.

There were two of us,
On a windy and rainy night,
Both looking for love,
And hope,
On Desperation Boulevard.

Desperation Boulevard,
Where dreams can come true,
If even for a night,
On Desperation Boulevard.

The lyrics burned deep into Jill's soul. She closed her eyes as she remembered the morning. The morning where she had headed back home, to her life, to her family, and to Mark. All the way home she had tried to convince herself that she was doing the adult thing, the right thing by leaving George. Time hadn't lessened that feeling of loss she had experienced. It was the one time in her life she had felt truly loved.

Rachel grasped her mother's shoulders and spoke into her ear. "God, for an older guy, he's sexy. Don't you wish you were the Jill?"

She didn't hear when her mother whispered, "I am."

I had my music,
She had her life,
But, for a moment,
We found each other,
And hope,
On Desperation Boulevard

Desperation Boulevard,
Where dreams can come true,
If even for a night,
On Desperation Boulevard.

Jill thought of her life, waking up next to her new husband that morning. She realized right then she'd made a terrible mistake. She cried in that hour right before dawn, feeling the tears flow silently down her cheeks, missing her lost love, before she dried them and resigned herself to the life she'd chosen, regretting always leaving the life, the love, she'd found in that shabby neon-lit hotel room.

I headed west,
And she went north,
I still dream of that night,
And hope,
For Desperation Boulevard

She'd carried those few nights with her, remembering them, cherishing them and, never for one moment, regretting them, but she hadn't realized until now that he had, too.

Desperation Boulevard,
Where dreams can come true,
If even for a night,
On Desperation Boulevard

It was hard being up on stage, trying to see into the audience with the lights shining in his eyes. But, for the briefest of moments, as he sung the last chorus, George's eyes locked on to a set of eyes in the audience. He could have sworn there was a spark of recognition in them.

Rachel watched her mother's face while Jill watched the band. She was transfixed; Rachel thought, by the band, the song. No. Not just the song, the man. The guitar player. What was his name?

"George," Jill whispered to herself.

"George?" Rachel looked at her mother. "Who's George?"

Jill ignored her daughter's question. She was staring through tear-filled eyes at the man on the stage.

"Mother, do you know that man?" Rachel asked, curiosity filling her voice.

"I used to, a long, long time ago," Jill replied softly, not taking her eyes from his hands, his face, him.

Jill watched as, one by one, the band members left the stage until only George was left. He packed up his guitars, pausing once more to look out over the lights, until he, too, walked off the platform and down the steps.

"George?" she said, hesitantly, as she waited at the bottom of those stairs.

---

"I'll see you later tonight, babe," George said. "It's time to set up. Bo's gonna kill me as it is, for waiting until the last minute."

Jill didn't say anything. She just smiled and raised his hand to her lips, kissing the fingers that had caressed her body, made love to her, impressed themselves into her heart, the past two days. She could not bear to tell him the truth, but she would not, could not, lie to him, so she said nothing. * He wouldn't be seeing her later. But she would be seeing him in her dreams for the rest of her life.*

She sat down at the same table, the one in the shadows, the one barely visible from the stage. She sat there, eyes closed and listened as the sounds of the bar fell away and the music flowed over her. She took a deep breath and opened her purse. She pulled out the thin sheets of paper she'd taken from the desk of the small hotel room she'd shared with George. Underneath the wordsMayfaire Hotel she began to write. Six little words, she thought, six little words that are going to change my life. When the note was finished, she folded it in half and tucked it away in her purse.