We Again Ch. 01

No sex in this story.

The food was ready, the preparation had been good for the soul. Leaving the office just after lunch had given him time to leisurely stroll through Market Street and pick the wine, fish and produce that he needed.

He'd smiled to himself as he watched the faces of his co-workers and partners, well those with enough time on their hands to look up from their work that is, watching him leave his office, inform his secretary Jackie that he was done for the day and that she might as well have an early finish too, he knew better than to just say that and flee, somebody would have intercepted her and tasked her to fulfill a work alternative seeing that her boss had gone. He definitely was not about to let that happen.

He grabbed her time-card signed it off for her normal daily work hours, she sat and stared at that as well, and it wasn't till he implored her with his eyes and upwards movement of his upturned hands that she realised he was deadly serious. She about fell out of her chair as he impatiently eased it away from her and pushed it under her desk.

He smiled at her as she stared at him with a look of absolute incredulousness and then together they walked out to the lift foyer, passing the few stunned workers that were probably trying to deal with the fact they'd never seen hide nor hair of the man other than first thing in the morning, (if they were early) or last thing at night,(if they were late). As they had passed the partners offices he chuckled quietly to himself about a little ditty that he'd just at that exact moment thought up: 'You could cut the consternation hanging in the air with a knife.' Ha! that right there is just funny.

She was fed up to the back teeth with her Bosses cussing, moaning, shortcomings and inabilities, just once she wished he'd have the stones to figure things out for himself not rely on her to sort his act out. 'If you can't friggin' fix it don't fuck with it - so help me how long do I have to put up with you? You moron.' As she grabbed the ream of printer paper out of the dopes hand complete with the copy he wanted printed, without speaking she pointed in the general direction of his office. He knew what she meant and as he disappeared past Wendy's desk She noticed Wendy turning round and grinning at her and rolling her eyes. She was over this job, she wished she hadn't been so quick to take up the Office Manager position, after four years it wasn't getting any easier, 'They're worse than looking after a bunch of frigging kids.' ah well only four and a half hours to go.

He had watched the cooking process sufficient that he was confident he had the meal including the resting and the dishing up exactly timed right, they would sit for their meal at seven-ten exactly.

As he passed the door leading to the passageway he glanced at the Grandfather clock when it rang out one chime, that gave him notice, it was quarter to seven.

She would of just hopped off the train after the twenty-minute bustle out of the City. It would be unknown what mood she would be in when she walked through the door, he was hoping for the best, a good chance to enjoy their meal and a conciliatory chat about their lives, marriage and relationship. He was going to keep his solemn promise to himself to not turn their chat into a protracted dead-locked argument or mud-slinging yelling match that it degenerated to in the past when they'd tried to 'fix their problems'.

Without further thinking about that subject he proceeded to check his work noticing that the fish required no more than ten minutes, the vegetables maybe fifteen to completion, happy with that he walked to the wine fridge and relieved it of the 'subtle white with a summer fruit bouquet' that the wine cellar expert had recommended. Opening the bottle he filled a wine glass to what he thought was an appropriate volume and took a mouthful. He isn't a great wine drinker preferring beer or the occasional spirit, black Coruba rum or whiskey were the two weapons of choice, but the wine was nice he thought his wife would like it. He isn't a person to dwell on things for long periods, choosing to fix or solve problems often without regard for either the circumstances or the people his quick-fire decision making may affect, but as he sipped the contents of his glass he realised a different approach to how they both talked tonight would be the new order, for once that was going to mean that he held what he wanted to say and only interject with some patience, allow her to offer up a rebuttal, or better a contribution without him talking over the top of her, he knew he did it and he knew the consequences of it, it was the reason for most of their serious conversations imploding. She would get frustrated with his bullish manner when they talked and as a consequence she floundered with what she wanted to say, how she wanted to say it and then the yell-fest started. Tonight needed to be different, things needed to be sorted, their life together needed to be corrected if they were to remain who they purported to be.

He heard the front door open. She spoke loud enough for him to hear,"Hi."

He replied telling her he was in the kitchen and then he was filling another glass with wine for her placing it on the island where she could see it. He checked the food, watching, prodding and smelling it, turning the oven and stove off or down as he judged the result he wanted, he needed to prepare the fish jus that would accompany the meal. He had heard the light clack of her heels when she entered the house and then the nothing after she had removed them leaving them at the bottom of the stairs, she would continue bare-footed to the kitchen.

He was pretty sure she sounded in a light mood from her approach, quick and with purpose, he didn't however know that she was in his presence till the wine glass made that distinguishable noise, it could only be the sound of a rotated wine glass base on a bench surface.

"What on earth have you cooked us you lovely man?"

"Why, your meal my darling."

"My god honey, how have you managed to put this all together? What time did you get home?"

"I left work just after lunch, took my time, wanted to do this for you, for us ....for a change."

Her back was to him as she looked over the assembled on the stove. She half turned, then turned back facing him, "Wait, did you say you've been home since the early afternoon?"

"Yes."

"What, bought this on? You've never done this for ....god-knows-when, have you ever? Jesus H Christ what did the partners say? they must of all just about keeled over and died of shock? What did Jackie say?"

"Ha ha ha, so many questions, so little time."

She stared at him, who was this man -- she paused waiting for an explanation.

He watched her hands one was twirling the glass stem while the other caressed the glass itself so that it rotated without tipping. He could see the speed at which it moved in her hands was getting faster. 'Ah she's getting impatient for an answer.'

He was quite prepared to ignore her query at as he continued with his task, actually he liked to concentrate when it came to making gravy or jus, it had to be the right temperature to blend the ingredients and get the desired taste, consistency and color. Still, he couldn't help but glance quickly up to look at his wifes face, the expression hadn't changed, she managed to, just before he returned to looking at the job in hand raise her right eyebrow in an inquisitorial, questioning way.

He smiled to himself, he had her frustrated, in a fun way of course, he wanted to keep it like this, it reminded him of earlier times in their relationship. Back when they were still deeply in love with everything they did together, or said, happy times before real life started interacting and taking over. He was hoping that this, tonight would be the start of getting that feeling back in their marriage and he wasn't about to upset the chance of that happening.

In his peripheral he saw her turn taking a gulp of her wine as she did so, as she retreated to their lounge her head turned enough for her to get her speech out, "Well I should of guessed shouldn't I. This is all about the sex, isn't it? Or the lack of it, oh well my bad, again. I'm warning you, I'm dog tired and I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you, it probably isn't gonna happen."

'What the fuck, what was that?'

He stood staring not really knowing what the hell to do. Should he even bother any further? He could feel his anger building, he identified it was there, and he did what he previously hadn't done in the past, refocused his effort, in this case towards the meal preparation. Quietly working and with minimal fuss he finished, once the task was completed he turned everything off, covered the food, topped up his wine, his thoughts went to the Spirit bottles in the top cupboard but immediately decided against that, he'd sit here in the kitchen and go through what or whether there was a next step.

She had silently stepped back into the room and he jumped when she spoke. "Look I'm sorry I went off there, given what you've prepared and spent all your time doing I didn't mean to come off like a spoilt bitch, but I'm just a bit tired to give my all to you tonight. I know, I know it's been a while and it's not all your fault -- You know yourself its work and always running out of time and projects and a son-of-a-bitch Boss that ......"

'Oh for Christ's sake, your feelings are hurt cos ya missing out on a bit of pussy? God sake stop being so hurt, I get enough of this emotional shit during the day, now I have to put up with this from you as well.'

Actually he'd disappeared into the lounge really just to get away from her poison, that was what that spiel was, coupled with a wrong assumption, he wasn't even angry now -- he didn't even feel the need. He knew he'd fucked it up, he shouldn't of left her hanging with her question about what tonight's meal was all about - she'd made the assumption based on the lack of response from him. 'Okay accept that and move on. I can do that'

And he did, accepted it. He felt himself give a little grin.

She'd taken a deep breath and decided to follow, he went to the lounge and sat on the sofa. She stood in the doorway watching his expression, it wasn't actually what she expected -- at all.

'Did he just fucking smile. Ah that's weird.'

She looked at him with her arms crossed and her chin tucked towards her chest, trying to decipher just what kind of funk he maybe in, he seemed to her to be in a world of self-contentment which she couldn't make out at all, unnerved her a bit, this wasn't the way their little tats went. Frustrated like she always was when she came home this tired from THAT job she considered herself able to manipulate the outcome of their disputes: anger worked, showing a little disdain, just enough, slamming things around helped. If she got in early and 'blitzkeiged' her way it nullified his bullish, overbearing manner before he got a chance to use it. That was the trouble really, when he got that way she got bulldozed. It still didn't answer how to deal with this situation though. 'Maybe be a little concillitory? Worth a try, well nothing to lose.' She caught her self smiling to herself and then felt her cheeks redden after the realisation, 'Fuck me! it must be catching.'

"Look honey," She sat at the other end of the sofa, she tucked her leg up under her and faced him as she continued, "I'm just too tired for this shit tonight, I want to have something to eat, shower, go to bed."

"You'll get no argument from me."

"Oh so what is all this hoohah about then?"

He paused watching her. She turned in response to her husbands stare. He spoke, "Easy answer, everything here tonight that I'm doing what you're so easily dismissing as hoohah and a ploy to gain a shot at your pussy, is born out of a love for you, wife. With regards to the sex thing, I'm sorry to tell you that's not what this is about, I guess with the snide way you mentioned it you're probably unlikely to believe me on that anyway."

That gave her a bit of a mental start. Not severe but she knew he would of seen it.

For a split second he recognised a lost, tired sadness in her face. In her eyes.

He wanted to be firm with their talk tonight. They had stepped around each other for a while now, it had become a game, both of them trying new rationale to keep the other at bay, at arms length, to maintain control, in the stupid belief that if their relationship was temporarily shelved, well it was one less problem that had to be dealt with, on a daily basis. There would always be time 'later on' to pull it off the shelf, dust it off and put it back in a prominent place. Trouble is it wasn't working, 'later on' was becoming an infinite position somewhere in the beyond. The work rate in their careers was still accelerating to the point of exhaustion in some instances, no time for other things - relationships, marriage or even love.

They are young and driven both wanting the right for self discovery in their career path's and the intoxicating need to succeed, a trap no wily employer is ever going to discourage. He was as much to blame, more so really. He had followed the idiom that successful careers need to be pushed as hard and as fast as possible, the challenge to be the best in the shortest time-frame was a game he hadn't given up.

Two things had bought him up short, well three, but that third one he didn't really want to think about, Frank Lorne was thirty-eight when he doubled over in front of his clients in his office, writhing on the floor as a result of a heart attack. Frank didn't have a problem with weight, he was a regular in the firms gymnasium and watched what he ate, he worked hard, noticeable by the fact he was quite often in his office beavering away when they went to leave and was there in the morning before the rest of them.

Frank is recovering, two stent's made sure of that. He'd made a lot of progress in the last month although he was expected to be off work for a couple more weeks. He admitted only to himself that Frank's episode scared the begeezers out of him and bumped his reality enough that the second thing came along virtually at the same time. When he had started his job with the firm, Frank Lorne was the prominent young star of the firm, newly married, twenty-nine years of age and looking at a partnership within the year. He had set the bar high and all who came after responded to that challenge.

He knew the same thing occurred at his wife's place of work.

What bought him up short with the Frank Lorne episode was, that like Frank he was married, something that two-thirds of the others in the firm he was competing with weren't, in fact of the seven others in his area, two were devout bachelors, they admitted as much, one was separated soon to be divorced and the rest had casual 'on-again-off-again girlfriends.

Somewhere in all of this he realised the married had dropped away out of the equation.

They both made a pact that at the start of year eight they would start a family, they were adamant about that, in fact she had been insistent that the thought of her working past year six was not going to be an option, he had put his arm around her and said, "Totally up to you honey, you decide, you'll know when that time comes along."

Year eight had come and gone and he hadn't noticed that anyway. They had not talked, he had no idea whether she had thought about it or not or had she and found a shelf to put that on as well. In spite of everything he was really hoping that it hadn't gone so far that their relationship wasn't recoverable, well actually he'd decided from his point of view it hadn't, that was what tonight was all about. On top of that he knew that his wife despite everything else still loved him, that he knew and trusted and nobody was going to convince him otherwise.

Thoughts turned to words, "Honey, the distance between us is increasing to the point we're becoming disjointed from each other. Are you really happy with our relationship? the way it is?"

The look on his wife's face went somewhere between anger and annoyance tinged with what? 'Was that a flash of red in her cheeks. Embarrassment, the way she just looked away - embarrassment? Why? because it was true or because I had bought it up?' 'Okay so I made my point, She needs time to consider, I'll leave it there for now.'

She had un-tucked her leg from under her and while she was lying stretched her legs until her feet landed on his leg. He absentmindedly picked up one of her tired but pretty feet and began working both of his thumbs up the underside from heel, along the instep to the soles and then each of her dainty toes. He could see his wife's eyes close as his ministrations eased the pain. He thought he heard her whisper something, he wasn't sure. "Pardon honey?" She wasn't looking at him when a bit louder she spoke, "About us, I said you're wrong you know."

Gently lowering her left foot to the couch, he picked up her right foot and began kneading and massaging the instep and heel, he held her foot up high enough that her leg bent at the knee, the sexual stimulus of massaging her feet was not lost on him, but the nature and bent of the conversation so far or lack of it, he knew was more important. They both needed answer's.

"Okay, I'm wrong. Tell me why I'm wrong, this thing, our relationship, I know its not right at the moment. I'm not wrong about that, you've distanced yourself from me and I don't know why." Her left foot had moved up and gave two sharp shoves with her toes into his solar plexus, he guessed more as a sign of protest rather than to hurt him, but the proximity to that part of his body he valued dearly wasn't lost on him.

"Wait... Yes,.. yeah honey, I know. I KNOW. A lot of it is my fault, I admit it, I was negligent and I'm desperate over it, I took my eye off the main game. I know. I'm..." The response was immediate, she gave a derisive snort, "You see our marriage YOUR so-called-relationship, THIS THING AS YOU CALLED it.... as a game, AS A GAME! WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN!?!"

'Shit! Shit. On. It!' He clamped his mouth shut. God he could feel her look, the quite fury in her face silently daring him to open his mouth and say the first stupid thing. This was the norm now, with any debate or question. They were both good at it and as in the past it served it's purpose, it neutralized the debate before it escalated. He needed to take the heat out of this conversation. Actually he had tensed during her rage, he thought she would of taken off in an angry huff to her sanctuary, their bedroom.

He mulled over his options, not daring to look in her direction, and then when he did glimpse a sideways glance he watched her face flick it's way through a series of varying emotions and he finally decided on one thing. He kinda hoped it would be the saving grace, 'The next words need to be yours.'

He concentrated on what his hands were doing, he pressed deeply into the area around her toes and soles of her foot, taking each toe in turn and rubbing along its length manipulating, stretching and relieving, then he pinched her Achilles tendon at the base of her heel and firmly pushed the thumb of his right hand along the tendon towards her calf. He repeated it three times and noted her body tensed and would then relieve.

She had closed her eyes, he chanced a look. God, She was still the most beautiful creature he had ever set eyes on, her fine features as she matured had only made her more alluring, he felt the overwhelming love he had for his wife make him light-headed as he watched her.

How had they let the situation get to where it was? Why had he not concentrated more on them? What had made her do the same? Or had she just got tired of the waiting while he'd been away playing his inane little games? Whatever some dynamic must have changed for her as well. He wasn't looking at her beautiful face anymore, he was lost in a world of his own, turning a thousand thoughts over in his head. He felt the sadness and frustration of it all, lost times, 'Fuck it all I want to start over again.'