World Enough and Time Ch. 03

"How could you not care? It didn't bother you that your husband might be cheating on you with another woman? How could that not bother you?"

"Well... I don't know if I should tell you this, but...." She paused for a long time, and then, she stared into my eyes -- her big, expressive green orbs bore into mine, and I could see that she was gauging our relationship in those intervening seconds. Finally, she continued, "It didn't bother me if Joseph was having an affair, because I figured if he was, he was entitled to it, considering what I was doing."

"No!"

"Yes, and, I guess, I'm not proud to admit it, but I didn't regret it in the least. The only thing that I regretted was that it didn't last."

"Who was he? How did you meet him?"

"He was a business man, just like Joseph -- though he was independently wealthy. Ironically, he was a widower, and though he was older than I was at the time, he hadn't even turned 40 yet. I met him at the grocery store. That first time, I could tell that he was checking me out, and I was so flattered by the attention that I started talking to him." She took a deep breath, and continued. I was spellbound by the story.

"And then I saw him again, and he talked to me again, and after that second time that I saw him there, he started flirting with me, and I started flirting back. I always went shopping at the same time each week, and then, I realized that he started showing up at exactly the same time, because he knew I would be there. And when I realized he was doing that, I started taking off my wedding ring before I would go to the store, because I was afraid that it might scare him off, and pretty soon, I found myself in his bed. He only lived a couple of miles away from us in Brookline, and he had essentially retired. He had all these investments, and he was just living off the interest, so he had a lot of time on his hands, just like me. When his wife died, he just stopped working. Her death had devastated him because he loved her so much, and so, I took her place, and he loved me, just as much as he had loved her." She stopped again, and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Well, did you love him?"

"Absolutely!"

"Well, then why didn't you leave Joseph for him?"

She started sobbing, and once she did, all I could do was to hold her. It took her probably five minutes to compose herself, but she fought through her tears, and eventually she continued, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Marcus. I'll try to tell the whole story. It was probably the biggest mistake of my life, but in the end, it didn't matter anyway." She found a box of Kleenex on the nightstand, and dabbed the tears from her eyes, and then, after another minute or so, she kept going.

"His name was Stephen Floyd, and Steve -- my god, he was a wonderful lover -- very attentive, very talented, and I guess this is the part of the story where I'm actually answering your question, Marcus. Steve taught me about sex. I started falling in love with it, and, of course, with him. He helped me to discover my own sexuality, how to be sensual, how to enjoy lovemaking. He was a great lover -- not as good as you, and, God knows, he didn't have nearly as big a cock as you do -- but he was good, very good, very gentle and very caring. That was about 11 years ago, the year before Joseph and I adopted Tommy. Joseph and I had been married for seven years at that point, and I guess I got the seven-year itch. Steve and I were together for almost nine months."

"Well, what happened? Where is he now?" I guess I had become impatient, and after I had heard the whole story, I felt bad that I had interrupted, but I knew at that moment that there was something more to it, and I guess I felt the need to cut to the chase.

"He died." She started sobbing again, but she just kept going. She cried throughout the rest of her story. "He had a massive heart attack, just like Joseph. He just dropped, right there in his house. We met at his house twice a week, and it was the day before I was supposed to meet him, and that next day when I went to the house and rang the bell, no one answered. I looked in all the windows, but I couldn't see anything, and then I started calling him, and no one answered the phone, and so, then after a few hours, I panicked. He would never have stood me up, so I just knew something was wrong. So then I called the police, anonymously, said I was one of his neighbors and that I was supposed to meet him, and the cops went there and found him. He'd been dead for over 24 hours."

Then, she stared at me again with the tears still running unabated down her china doll face, and she pleaded with me, "Don't you dare do that to me, Marcus! Don't you dare die! I won't be able to take it if it happens again. Two is enough. I can't handle a third one!" And then she just broke down. She couldn't stop crying, and there was nothing I could do but to hold her, and she just sobbed for at least an hour, sobbed like a baby, while we were spooned together in bed like that, and finally, after her tears had taken everything out of her, she fell asleep in my arms.

When I awoke on that Sunday morning, Ruth was sucking my cock. Once she got me hard, she climbed back up on top of me, and rode herself to two quick orgasms. I got the feeling that we were going to spend the rest of the morning that way.

After she climbed down, I was still rock hard, and she started stroking me with both of her hands. And then she asked me to take her in her ass, and that's probably the fastest way for me to cum, and so I got behind her, and took her doggie style, and sure enough, right after I made her climax again, I busted a big load in her tight ass, and then we took a break. And that was when I asked her to finish her tale. I wanted to hear the end of her story.

As we lay together on the bed, kissing and caressing each other, I asked, "Tell me the rest of the story, Ruth. What did you do after Steve died?"

"Are you sure that you want to hear it? It has to be sort of hard to listen to me tell you the story of the man that I was in love with before you, especially after what we just did. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Absolutely! It's your life, Ruth, and I care about you, so I want to know as much about you as I can. Besides, it's a pretty incredible story!"

"You're right, it is. Okay, but... I don't really know where to pick it up...." She paused for a moment, "Okay, here goes. So, I guess, it was strange, because Steve didn't have any children, and his wife was gone, so he had told me just a few weeks before he died that he wanted to name me as a beneficiary of his estate. I told him no, because, one, I didn't need the money, and two, if some or all of it was left to me, I had a lot of explaining to do."

"Anyway, he said that his siblings were currently named as equal beneficiaries because both of his parents were dead, and his brother and two sisters were the only people he had left, and so he wanted to add my name to the list, and I knew that he was going to do it, whether I wanted him to or not. He just had to figure out a way to disguise who he was and what his relationship was to me. But it never happened."

"If I would have stayed with Steve for even a few weeks longer, I am certain that I would have left Joseph, would have divorced him. There was nothing stopping me from doing so -- no children, nothing really to bind me to him. But I still felt guilty about cheating, and so for the moment, I couldn't do it. But it never happened, because Steve died before I could divorce Joseph, and because I hadn't left Joseph, I wouldn't let Steve change his will. So when he died, his siblings got everything, and even though I was grief stricken, I was much happier that way."

"I went to the funeral, and I introduced myself to them, and I know they wondered who the hell I was, and why I was there. And they were really good people, so much like Steve, and I felt so sorry for them and for myself, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't tell them who I was, couldn't tell them that I was in love with their brother, so after that day, there was nothing more to do or to say. For the next month or two, I used to drive by Steve's house every day. They had put it up for sale, and I would see it, see the "for sale" sign, and then I would think about being there with him, and I would cry."

"Anyway, afterward, I just had to do something. I missed him so much, and Joseph was even more distant than he had been for the previous seven years, so I got an idea. I more or less demanded that we adopt a child. Joseph didn't want to, but I told him, that I would leave him if we didn't at least try to adopt. Finally, he capitulated."

"And then after we got Tommy, I just threw myself into being a mother. At least I had someone to love, even if it wasn't romantic love, because I cared for that little boy more than anything in this world, and that was enough, and for the next nine years, it had to be enough. And then Joseph died, and I was sad -- not because I had lost someone that I loved, because I didn't love him -- but because Tommy had lost his father, and as little as Joseph cared about me, he did care about his son."

"And then, I didn't know what to do. I was just stunned at first. I really thought that it was me -- that I killed men, just by being with them, so for a while, I just didn't have the energy to do anything. It was enough just taking care of Tommy. And he really needed me. So that's what I did."

"And then after almost a year, I just knew I couldn't pretend that I could run those damn shoe stores, so after I had let John, the manager of the downtown store take care of things for me -- he's a saint, by the way, and Jim O'Riordan, who turned out to be an asshole as you well know, and some other people who helped me out, I knew I just had to sell everything. And that's when, just by sheer luck, I met you, Marcus, and you can't even begin to know how much you saved me. I didn't think I would ever find any happiness again in this world."

"And when I saw you the first time, I knew it right away. It was exactly like when I first met Steve. I was just so attracted to you, especially because you were so different from me, and I think I had always been attracted to black men, but I had never really met any of them. And then, even though you were so professional and so kind to me, I could tell you were attracted to me, too. And then, I started flirting with you, and you were so cute -- you didn't know what to do. And I'll admit it, I had some qualms, like that night I first kissed you -- when I ran out -- I was afraid. But I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I knew it. I had a sixth sense about it. I knew I was destined to love you."

"I think I was destined to love you, too, Ruth." I said honestly, and then we kissed each other. It was the first time that we said the words, and though they weren't spoken in the way in which I wish they would had been, I know now that we both meant them absolutely and sincerely, and the greatest irony is that we only said them one other time -- but I'm getting to that part of the story.

And after that, Ruth said something really curious, or rather asked me something really curious. "Marcus, if I ask you to do something that is really hard, and that I really have no right to ask you to do, would you do it?"

"Wow, Ruth, that's about as nebulous and ill-defined a question as any I've ever been asked, but do you know what, because it's you, I'm going to say yes, even if I have no idea what you're talking about or what you're about to ask." She smiled.

"Would you please quit smoking cigarettes? It's not that it bothers me, especially the way you do it -- you're so polite about it -- in fact, I actually kind of like it. But I was serious last night. I don't want you to die, and if smoking cigarettes makes that even just a little more likely, I want you to stop doing it. Please? Would you please stop?"

I smiled at her, and I kissed again before I answered. It was kind of sweet -- her asking me. It was just so genuine, and I really think she was right, she couldn't have handled it, and that's the biggest irony of all, because she did have to handle it, and quite frankly, I don't know how she did do it.

But the bottom line is, I said yes. "Okay, Ruth. I'll quit. It's a nasty habit, anyway, and if you want me to, I'll stop. It's probably a really good idea." She hugged me so tightly, and she started crying again, though this time, it was a lot easier for her to make herself stop. These were tears of joy, not sadness. I guess what? I did stop -- haven't smoked a cigarette in my life since that day.

We went for another swim, and seeing Ruth in her bikini got me excited all over again, but we had had so much sex that weekend, that, quite frankly, we just needed to get ourselves back to Boston with our sex organs still intact. I'm surprised my dick didn't fall off. So after the swim, we got ourselves cleaned up, had some lunch, packed up our stuff, and then hit the highway back to Boston. We arrived right before dinner time.

I invited Ruth inside to have dinner with me, but she said she couldn't -- that she'd told Danny's parents she'd be by to pick Tommy up before 6:00. She got in her car and drove home, and I didn't see her for almost a week. The following Monday was the first day of the new school year, and Tommy was just starting fifth grade, and I knew that Ruth was busy buying school clothes and supplies, so it didn't surprise me that I didn't hear from her again until that Friday.

When I did, it was for a completely different reason than I thought. She seemed almost frantic, and she said that she absolutely had to see me that night. She asked if she could come over to my place after she dropped Tommy off with Danny and his parents.

When she arrived at my door that Friday evening around 7:00, I don't think she had ever looked more beautiful. The truth was, Ruth always looked great, but now I was falling in love, and not having seen her since the previous tempestuously passionate weekend, I was so ready to be inside her that she could probably have been wearing a potato sack, and I would have thought it the most gorgeous potato sack in potato sack history.

But the look on her face told me that something was wrong. There were tears in her eyes, and those tears did not go away for the next few hours. After she came inside, she said she wasn't even interested in having dinner with me. She said she couldn't eat a thing, but, more importantly, that we needed to talk immediately. I poured her a glass of wine, and maybe that helped to calm her down just a little bit, but probably not too much. We sat down on my leather couch, and I was reminded that that was the first place we had ever had intercourse. "What's wrong, Ruth? Tell me. What's got you so upset?"

She took a deep breath. "Tommy got in a fight at school yesterday. Today, I had to take him in so we could both speak with his principal, and it seems that Tommy was the aggressor in the fight -- he clearly started it. He was suspended from school today, and now, again on Monday and Tuesday of next week as well."

"Did he tell you what happened? That doesn't sound like Tommy. He's a good kid, and he doesn't strike me as the kind of kid that goes around picking fights."

"Well that's just it. He wouldn't tell the principal exactly why he started the fight, though he did admit to starting it. But he said that the other boy said something to him, and that's why he hit him. When the principal asked him what the other boy said, he wouldn't repeat it -- he just said that he couldn't let anybody say that, and he told the principal that if the other boy said it again, he would hit him twice as hard as he did yesterday. He gave the boy a pretty good black eye from what I was told. The principal was only going to suspend him from school for today until he said that he'd hit the boy again. The principal told me privately that he is worried that this might be the beginning of something more dangerous -- that maybe Tommy is working out some inner aggressions."

"Wow! I wonder what the kid said to him, because Tommy is about as a polite a young boy as I have ever met. Did he tell you what he said -- I mean, once you got him home?"

"Not exactly, but here's the thing, Marcus -- Tommy did suggest that it had something to do with you and me. He told me that the boy called me a name and said that I did something crude, and Tommy said that name and what I supposedly did is connected to you. He said that no one was allowed to call either you or me what that boy had called us. I think this is about racism, Marcus. Somehow, that boy at school found out about you and me, and I'm guessing he only repeated what he'd heard at home."

She didn't need to say anything more. I had seen enough school fights and had been around enough vulgar and racist people that I suspect I pretty much knew what that boy had said about Ruth without Tommy having to tell me: "Tommy's mother is a nigger lover who sucks black cock." I would be willing to wager a fair amount of money that if that wasn't exactly what that other boy said, it was so close to it that I would deserve to win that bet. And let's face it; if that is what the boy said, minus the unforgivable racial epithet, the statement would have had the unarguable distinction of being true.

I wasn't about to reveal my speculation to Ruth, but I understood now why this was so serious. Tommy was imbued with a strong enough sense of honor that he wasn't going to back down to anyone who would disgrace the person he loved more than anyone else in the world, and I have to admit, I took tremendous pride in Ruth's assumption that he was defending my honor as well.

But even more than that, I knew right away why she had come to see me. She was breaking it off with me. She didn't have to say so, and she didn't -- at least not right away, and not explicitly. But I understood it from the very beginning. The only thing that could spare Tommy more pain and embarrassment and, ultimately, danger was if no one had a reason to repeat that insult, and the only thing that could dismiss that reason was if we were no more.

Ruth had come to the realization that she could not stay with me, even though I am absolutely sure that she loved me. In fact, she told me so that very night. But Tommy's future and her own depended more on her conforming to the mores and social codes that she wanted and believed she should ignore. In the end, his safety and well-being meant more to her than her own physical and emotional needs. And who could argue with that?

After she told me about Tommy, she set her wine glass down on the coffee table, and she began to hug me, crying in my arms, because she knew it was the last time she would do so. We both knew where that was going to lead us. In a few minutes, we were back in my bedroom making love, and that was our last time together.

Our lovemaking that night was different than any other time during the three months we were together. It wasn't about lust, but rather love -- it was passionate and gentle and sweet. There was no bawdy language, no anal sex, no cumshots to the face, but when I came inside Ruth for the second time that night and held her close to me and kissed her with more passion and sincere affection than I had ever done before, she told me that she loved me, told me that she would always love me, and to this day, I believe that she still does. And then, I promised her that I loved her, too, and that I would die with that promise on my lips. That was the last time that I saw her.

When I said goodbye to her a few minutes later, standing at the 7^th floor entrance to my condominium, she told me that she had better not see me for a while, and asked me not to call, write or see her. That she would come to me when she could. She didn't say why, and she didn't need to. We both understood.