Wandering Bk. 06: Charlie

I must have drifted off and I awoke when the first of the trail riders stomped into the room. I had been dreaming about Francine's question and now I was pretty sure I had the answer. I picked up the cold coffee and put it on the bar. As I stood there, it became clearer. I knew, for the first time, what this whole trip had been about. Francine's simple question had framed it all. It was a matter of making choices with no guarantees. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I walked into my room and opened my bag, searching for the means to my next move. I found what I was looking for, picked up my cell phone from the night table and turned it on. I punched in the number and listened for the ring tone, hoping it wouldn't cut to voice mail. It didn't.

"Hi ... it's Lee Stephenson."

I had time to think now and that's what I did. It would be five hours before I would arrive at my destination. As I drove, I kept coming back to the same question. Why her? What was it about her that separated her from all the others? Why was I so certain it had to be her?

I had been wandering aimlessly for almost six months, trying to forget my failed marriage and at the same time, trying to find a new life. There was a job waiting for me, so it was just a matter of coming to terms with what I really wanted for my personal future.

It wasn't that difficult to define. I wanted a companion, a woman to share my life. But more than anything, I wanted love. I wanted that elusive, undefined intangible almost every person seeks - love.

I thought back over the wonderful women I had met on my travels.

Constance, the elegant, sensual, mature woman of the world who had first introduced me to my new life.

Candice, the young, spirited, small-town girl with ambition and the desire for a full life with a certain young doctor.

Sophia, the sophisticated ex-model. Darkly quiet and mysterious, seeking out liaisons with men for both herself and her mother.

Then Pattie. The fun, self-assured, ambitious young woman who had shared my bed and berth on the Shushwap houseboat. I would probably be seeing her again at Orca Investigations.

And Charlie. The woman I had spent the most time with on this wandering voyage of self-discovery. Charlie with the large and varied sexual appetite. Talented Charlie, running her own business and trying to get a grip on her personal life. She was the catalyst for my understanding of this journey. She and Francine had helped me bring my life into focus. I now knew what I wanted from my future.

But, in the end, it was Beth. Beth, the accomplished artist who needed someone to push her to realize her capabilities. Big beautiful Beth, the fascinating, voluptuous redhead, staying in a high-class time-share courtesy of an unknown "sugar daddy." We had made a connection too. She was so much more challenging than the others. I found I was much more outspoken around her, even daring her to become a more complete artist.

Perhaps it was because she appeared unreachable. Too beautiful? Certainly desired by every man who saw her. Insecure? Thinking she intimidated men. There was likely a lot of truth in that belief. Yet, in my arrogance, I always believed she was attainable. I never once thought that I didn't belong with her. Why? What was it about her that made me believe in myself?

Our conversation on the phone had been brief, but intense.

"Lee, how wonderful to hear from you. Where are you?"

"Kamloops. I'm just packing up and getting ready to come back. I think I've done what I needed to do."

"Good. I'm glad. Can you come here ... to my place?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes. I can. I want to. You're the reason I'm coming back home. I wanted to see you again ... to talk to you ... about us," I said hesitantly. I must surely have sounded hopeful. I wished I had sounded more confident.

"About us?" She paused. "Yes ... that's a good idea. When will you be here?" She sounded calm and unruffled by my direct request.

"I should be there about six. Why don't we plan on dinner together?"

"Fine ... but I don't want to go out. We'll have it here ... where we can talk ... privately," she said quietly. I wasn't positive, but it sounded like there was a hint of happiness in that lovely, soft voice.

"I'll pick up a bottle of wine along the way, and I won't be late."

END