The Bedtime Tales of Be287m

Friends and Benefits, Chapter Twenty-seven

I knew the next two weeks would be hard.  Almost as soon as the envelope left my fingers, sliding through the mailbox slot, I could feel the helplessness set in.  I’d taken my best shot with the letter to Tina, and now all I could do was wait.  What happened next was completely beyond my power.

With her letter mailed, I returned to my desk.  I pulled out a clean piece of paper and wrote “Dear Sharon” on the top line.  Then I stared at it.

And stared at it.

And wrote three words and then promptly crossed them out.

The problem was, I just didn’t feel that sorry.  Not in a deeply repentant way.

Yeah, I’d pushed when I shouldn’t’ve.  And when she’d blatantly told me not to.  I’d definitely fucked up.

But that didn’t change the fact that she was the one that had crossed the line.

What line there was.  We’d never done a good job of defining where the line between a pure friendship and a sexual friendship lay.  And that was as much my fault as hers.

Well, actually she’d defined the line—no touching.  I hadn’t liked it, but I hadn’t discussed it or argued.  And then she’d been the one to cross it.

I sighed and got up from my desk.  The whole thing was far too messy for me to reason my way through.  I needed to be Alexander the Great and just slice through this Gordian Knot.

I puttered around the house, doing a little cleaning and straightening.  My mind kept wanting to return to the letter to Sharon, but I consciously pushed those thoughts aside.  I needed to not overthink things.  I just needed to do.

I smiled at that thought.  I’d certainly done Sherri.  Without hesitating, in fact.

Those were memories worth reveling in.  I’d taken a page out of Allen’s book and had some of the best raw sex of my life.

That got me thinking about Allen.  We hadn’t really talked when I’d called him last, the week after that disastrous night.  Of course, I’d been rather whiny, then.  He’d tossed off his advice about getting laid and then gotten off the phone.

Well, I wasn’t whiny anymore.  It was time to call him again.

“Hey, Bud,” he said when he answered.  “You doing okay?”

“Better than the last time I called.”

“Good to hear.”

“Yeah, well, it would have been tough for things to get worse.”

Allen snorted but didn’t say anything.  I grimaced because I immediately knew it wasn’t true.  Things could have gotten worse, a lot worse.

“But I’m doing a lot better now,” I said.

“I hope my advice helped.”

Now it was my turn to snort.  Allen had listened for about twenty minutes while I’d poured out my guts, and then told me that I needed to get laid.  There had been no additional advice.

“I told you that there were always other fish in the sea,” he said.  “Getting laid is a good way to remember that.”

“Oh, I got laid.  It just didn’t go the way I think you intended.”

“Oh?  Did it turn into something?”

“In a way,” I said.  “But not romantic.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a long story.  But that’s not why I’m calling.  I want to talk about Sharon.”

“Oh.”  His tone was cold.  “I thought she wouldn’t talk to you.”

“She won’t.”

“So what’s the problem?  You should consider it a blessing.”

“Hey, just because she’s your ex doesn’t make her a bad person.”

“Do you know how hard it was to make her my ex?”

“Not that hard. You sent her a letter.”

“That’s because every time I tried to do it in person, I got a lecture.  I’d start the conversation and she’d interrupt me and tell me what she thought.  Ya can’t solve problems if only one of you’s talking.”

I frowned, remembering my conversation with Sharon after she’d caught me masturbating.  I didn’t feel so bad about not standing up to her if Allen couldn’t either.

“She was so sure we were ‘destined to be together,’” he continued, “that she didn’t want to face the problems.  She started smothering me, so I got out.”

“Huh.”

“So consider yourself lucky.  You got out easy.”

“Well, maybe.”

“You did.”

“Not if it cost me Tina too.”

“Yeah, she was good for you.  But there are more women out there.  You did get laid, after all.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“So where’d you meet her?”

I laughed.  “That’s a long story.  Basically I got lucky and was in the right place and the right time.”  Which was true, even if the right place had been my living room.

“So date her.” 

“Nah.”  Not since she preferred women.  “I think I’ll try to get back with Tina.”

Allen didn’t immediately respond.  Choosing his words, probably.

“Well,” he said, “good luck.”

“You never know.  You didn’t expect things to work out with Jenna when you first hooked up, and look what happened.”

“Yeah.”  The grin was obvious in his voice.

“So, how is married life?”

“Good.”

Allen proceeded to tell me stories about being married for a few months and how that was different from just living together.  I asked questions in appropriate places and fifteen minutes later we hung up.  He was happy, still truly happy.

And I still didn’t know what to say to Sharon.

I sat down at my desk again and fiddled with my pen.  No words came to me.  I reflected some more on Allen’s words—that Sharon thought they were ‘destined’ to be together.  That certainly fit with her difficulties in getting over him.  She hadn’t ‘gone out and gotten laid,’ though I suspected that was different for girls.  Instead, she’d clung to fantasies and hopes.  Like Allen seeing her pictures and wanting to get back together.

Oh.

Oh, I’d been such a fool.

The pictures had never been about me, or for me.  At least not in the beginning.  It was about Allen!  She’d suggested the first set when I’d said Allen would be envious, and the others after he accidentally saw the first ones.

My blood started to boil and I clenched my fists.  No wonder it was easy for her to not see our time together as sexual—she was never thinking about me as a sexual partner.  I could have been her girlfriend or her brother for all she cared!

I smashed my fist down on the desk.  Unfortunately, I hit the tip of my pen, sending it flying.  Still pissed, I went looking for it on the floor.

If I hadn’t been so stupid, I would have realized that it wasn’t about me before I shouted those things in the bedroom.  Maybe I’d still have Tina.

I found the pen and stood up.  Still disgusted with myself, I just threw it on the desk.  I needed to go for a walk and I needed to go for a walk now.

I pounded the pavement down to the 7-Eleven again.  About three quarters of the way there, my anger started to dissipate with the exercise.  I started to feel better, even though I was out of breath.  It sure beat trying to drink my anger away.

There was more than just me being a blind, stupid fool, I realized.  I’d also been afraid.  I’ve never forced the issue with Sharon and negotiated or discussed what I wanted.  I’d never come right out and said I wanted to date her, or questioned her when she said she didn’t want to date me.  I’d never stood up for myself.

No wonder I’d exploded in the end.

That’s what I needed to apologize for.  I slowed to a gentle walk as the revelation sunk in.  I continued to play with the words while I finished the round trip, having won nothing with my scratch-off ticket.

By the time I’d returned to my apartment, I thought I had enough of the words to write the letter.  I labored over it for a long time and then set it aside.  I needed a second set of eyes on it, and that meant waiting for Sherri.

I pondered that.  There really wasn’t any rush, was there?  Sherri’d said she’d call me in a couple of days, so I could let the letter sit for a while.  I could fill the time until then.

That night, I buried my nose in a novel, and the next day I threw myself into my work.  On the way home, I stopped at the bookstore and snagged another paperback, which I started after dinner.  I did a few chores when I got stiff from just sitting on the couch, but generally just let the time go by.  Tuesday, I did more of the same.  Wednesday night I started to get antsy, waiting for the phone to ring.  It wasn’t until I was doing dishes that I realized why.

Wednesdays was when I talked to Sharon.  And here I was, waiting for the phone to ring once again.

I consciously forced my gut to untighten and my muscles to relax.  Sherri would call.  I just had to be patient.

And of course as soon as I told myself that, the phone rang.  And, of course, it was Sherri.

“How are you doing?” she asked after we’d said hello.

“Pretty good.  I’ve got a draft of my letter to Sharon I’d like to run by you.”

“Okay.”

The pause lengthened.

“Uh, you mean now,” I said.  “on the phone.  I was thinking of showing it to you in person.”

“Hmm,” she said.  “That’s probably better.”

“Yeah,” I said, “that way you can see if the tone comes across right, instead of hearing it in my voice.”

“Okay.  How about Friday?”

“Don’t you work Fridays?” I asked.

“Not any more.  Or at least not right now.”

“What happened?”

“I quit the agency.”

“What?  Why?”

“They told me to make up with my client from last week.  He’s a pretty powerful guy in this town.  But I refused.”

“Oh.”

“So I’ve got Friday night free.”

“Well, do you want to come here?  Go out?  Meet somewhere else? Have me come there?”

She chuckled.  “So many choices.  How about just picking one and asking me if I’d like to do it?”

“Okay,” I said.  “Dinner out.  How about the Grill from Ipanema in Adams Morgan?”

“Sure.  What time?”

“7:30?”

Sherri asked a few more questions about how I was doing, and I sensed she was gently probing to make sure I hadn’t slipped into depression.  My answers seemed to satisfy her, though.  She in turn also sounded cheerful, and when we hung up, I remained in good spirits.

I was still in good spirits on Friday.  The week had gone quite well at work and I had a great meal with great company to look forward to.  The only curve ball was the flashing light on my answering machine when I got home.

“Joe, this is Sherri.  Would it be okay if my roommate joined us tonight?  Don’t worry, you’ll like her.  Give me a call.”  I replayed it twice to make sure I’d copied her phone number down correctly.  I took a deep breath and then dialed the number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Joe.  Can I speak with Sherri?”

“Oh, hi Joe!  This is Lisa, Sherri’s roommate.”

“Hi.”

“I suppose you’re returning her call about me coming along.  I hope it’s okay.  I won’t get in the way and I really need to get out.”

“Well, okay….”

“I’ll let you talk to Sherri.”

Before I could say anything else, a different voice came on the line.

“Hi,” Sherri said.

“Hi.  I’m returning your call.”

“I figured.  Listen, Lisa got fired today, and it’s my fault.  She would've been working tonight, but, well….”

“Well, how do we go over my letter to Sharon?”

“Oh, she’s promised to go hang out at the bar for a while so we can talk privately.  And if we need more time, I’ll come back to your place.  Assuming you don’t mind me inviting myself to spend the night.”

I snorted.  “I’d have to be a fool to mind.”

“Good.  I owe her.  And you’ll like her.”

“Okay.”

“Besides,” she continued, “I told her that you wouldn’t object as long as she wore her garter belt.  I’ll wear mine too.”

I sputtered in surprise, my mouth moving, but words completely failing me.

“See you in a little bit,” Sherri said, and then hung up.

As I rolled through a quick shower, I had a hard time avoiding an erection.  I didn’t know anything about Lisa, but already I was excited at the possibility.  After all, Sherri had said they’d sometimes worked together.

Also, the irony was not lost on me—I’d schemed and planned for months to have dinner with two women while both were wearing garter belts.  Now it was happening a second time, without me lifting a finger.  Somewhere, the gods were laughing their fool heads off.

They continued to laugh while I looked for parking in Adams Morgan.  With no Metro stop, there was no good way to get there, and apparently everyone had decided that tonight was the night to go out.  The only pay lot in the area was jammed and I finally settled for a meter over eight blocks from the restaurant.  As a result, I was late, really late, when I finally arrived.

Despite the crowd, I quickly spotted Sherri at the bar.  She waved, and the blonde she was with turned around and smiled.  It was one of those million dollar smiles that shows up on the cover of magazines, and I immediately felt my blood begin to race in response.  I waved back and slowly pushed my way through the crowd.

Sherri greeted me with a hug and then introduced me to Lisa.  The blonde dimpled when she smiled and her feathered-back hair framed her face like a halo.  I found myself unconsciously standing a little straighter and smoothing my clothes.

“I put us on the list for a table,” Sherri said, leaning close so I could hear her over the din.  “But Lisa can wait for them to call us if you want to talk outside.”

I nodded and stepped back, letting her lead me to the door.  I waved at Lisa as we went, and she raised her glass at me in return.

I was glad that the night wasn’t as cold as it might have been for late January.  Nonetheless, we leaned against the building to avoid the breeze.  I reached into my pocket and took out my letter to Sharon.  I unfolded it and handed it to Sherri, who turned, allowing me to look over her shoulder.  Even though I almost knew the words by heard, I read along.

Dear Sharon,

                                                      Joe

“You seem to like the word ‘incredible,’” Sherri said.

“Huh?”

“You used it twice, even after me mentioning it with your last letter.”

I glanced back at the letter.  “Oh, I did.”

“You can change the second one to simply ‘very’ and it’ll work.”

She looked up at me and frowned.

“My big problem,” she said, “is that this doesn’t feel like an apology.  It’s more like you’re justifying why you’re only a little bit sorry.”

“Well,” I said, “that’s the truth.  The more I’ve thought about it, the more I’m convinced that I shouldn’t apologize for the fact that she gave me a blowjob.  I may have manipulated Tina about the pictures, but I was up front with Sharon.  My sins with her were omission, not commission.”

“Do you really regret not standing up to her?”

I firmly nodded.

“Good.”

She turned back to the letter, and I waited shifting side by side to keep a little warmer.

“I still think you need to rework this some,” she said finally.  “At least the last paragraph.  Maybe take out the second sentence.”

I leaned in.  “The one that starts ‘It wasn’t all my fault…?’”

“Yes.  That one.”

“Okay.  I can cut it.”

Sherri looked up at me, biting her lip as she searched my eyes.

“Do you think this letter will serve her?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think it will be good for her?  Not just good for you to write, but good for her to read?”

I paused and tilted my head.  Would it?

“You do want this letter to be from agape, right?”

I slowly nodded.  “I do.  But I want to stand up for myself too.”

“So what does the letter do?”

“Let me re-read it,” I said.

She handed it to me and I slowly reviewed it.  Then I handed it back.

“I think it does both,” I said.  “Or at least as best as I can.  The first paragraph is stuff she should definitely hear.  She really has been an incredible friend.”

Sherri grimaced when I said ‘incredible’ and I couldn’t help but chuckle at myself.

“I’ll definitely fix the ‘incredibles,’” I said.  “But I also think the second paragraph has to be there.  It’s me standing up for myself as well as telling her what I think she needs to know.”

“Are you sure?”

I started to retort about being pushed, but then I stopped myself.  This was one case where I did need to be pushed.  Was this really what I wanted to send?

“I’m sure,” I said after a pause.

She didn’t look convinced, but after looking into my eyes a moment longer, she made a small nod.

“Okay,” she said.

I smiled.  “I’ll make the other changes.”

“Good.  Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“Not really,” I said.  “It’s too early to have heard back from Tina yet, and life’s been pretty good otherwise.  I could tell you more about some of the things I’ve been thinking about, but, frankly, I’m getting cold.”

“Then let’s go back in.”

We re-entered the restaurant to see a guy in a sports coat chatting Lisa up.  She was smiling and laughing, but as soon as she saw us, she got a pleading look in her eyes.  The guy turned, but before he could say anything, Sherri threw her arms around Lisa in a hello embrace, replete with joyous cries and cheek kissing.  They guy looked at me warily.

“Is our table ready?” Sherri asked Lisa before any of the rest of us could speak.

“I’m sure it is.”

“Excuse us,” she said to the guy, and then hooked Lisa’s arm and pulled her toward the door.  The guy looked confused, and I gave him an apologetic look before following the ladies.

By amusing coincidence, the hostess was just about to call us when we walked up.  I glanced back at the bar and saw the guy still watching us.  The women just ignored him and we headed to our table, where they sat on either side of me.

“So what was that about?” I asked.  “At the bar?”

Lisa rolled her eyes.  “He was trying to impress me by talking about his job as a researcher for one of the House committees.”

“And I rescued her,” Sherri said.

Lisa nodded.  “Most guys in this town are such bores.”

“All the politics, eh?” I said.

“Even the sex,” she said.  “It’s like bad porn.  ‘Ooh, baby, I’m gonna be the best you’ve ever had.  Ooh, baby, just wait until you feel the lovemeister.”  She rolled her eyes and Sherri bit her lip, her eyes full of mirth.

“Is it really that bad?”

Lisa nodded.  “That’s why I quit doing calls, except with her.”  She gestured at Sherri, who nodded in confirmation.

“But you work the phones, right?”

“Well, I did,” she said with a grimace.  “Until I helped her out.”  Once again, she gestured across the table.

“After I’d quit, some of my regulars called,” Sherri explained.  “She passed their phone numbers on to me so I could call them back.”

“And they fired you for that?” I asked Lisa.

“It takes business away from them,” Sherri said before Lisa could answer.

“It’s not like they were going to see anyone else anyway,” Lisa said sourly.

Sherri shot her a look.  “You know Toni doesn’t see it that way.”  She turned to me.  “Toni’s the owner.”

“Toni’s a penny-pinching bitch,” Lisa said.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

“Sorry,” Lisa said, “but she is.”

“That’s okay,” I said.  “What are you going to do now?”

“Don’t know yet,” Lisa said.  I glanced at Sherri, who shook her head as well.

“If one of the other agencies needs a phone girl, I might go work for them,” Lisa said, “but I don’t want to escort again.”

“Why not?”

“Too many jerks,” she said.

“That’s why she went with me,” Sherri interjected with a catty grin, “I have more interesting clientele.”

“I’m also one of the few girls that’ll do doubles with you.”

Sherri frowned, but didn’t argue.

Lisa turned to me.  “She won’t let the other girls cut corners or fake it.”

“They shouldn’t,” Sherri said.  “This is a service.”

“It’s a job.”

Despite their words, neither of them seemed enthused about the discussion.  It sounded more like round thirty-two of an old argument.  They looked at each other, but neither mustered the energy to even glare.

“So, how does one cut corners?” I asked.

“Get the guy off really quick and then leave,” Lisa said.

“Before the hour’s up,” Sherri said.  “Which is what he paid for—time and companionship.”

Lisa frowned.  “Most guys don’t care.”

“That’s because they only think they know what they want.”

I decided to interrupt before we got to round thirty-three.  “So,” I said to Lisa, “why do you work with her, then?”

She grinned.  “It’s more fun.”

“And satisfying,” Sherri said, her own face starting to light up.  “You usually say satisfying.”

I glanced at Lisa, who nodded.

“She’s right,” she said.  “I don’t feel like a whore after calls with her.”

I chuckled.  Whore, courtesan, escort.  The words certainly mattered to them.

The conversation lulled, and then Sherri put her napkin on the table.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

Lisa and I nodded as Sherri stood.  She walked over to the waiter, who pointed her toward the back where the restrooms were.

I looked at Lisa, who smiled at me while toying with her menu.  There was a hint of coyness in her eyes.  Was she flirting with me?  After a little bit, I cleared my throat.

“So are you two… more than roommates?” I asked.

Lisa laughed.  “Oh, no. The only time we have sex is when we’re out on a call.”  She paused, biting her lip and looking far away.  “Although she is the best at licking pussy.  But I’m straight, so we don’t fool around on our own time.”

I raised an eyebrow.  Lisa grinned back.

“You’re straight?” I asked, voicing my implied question.

“Yes.  Oh, sex with Sherri is fun, but I prefer a real cock. From a guy who can fuck me hard.”

I shook my head.  The incongruity of the four letter words falling out of this nearly cherubic blonde’s mouth just rattled my brain.  She seemed to know that, from the way her eyes danced.  I didn’t know what to say and, while I was still thinking about it, Sherri returned.  She took one look at Lisa and her eyebrows went up.

“Have you been teasing my friend?” she asked the blonde.

“He asked questions.  I answered them.”

Sherri looked at me.  I shrugged and did my best not to feel guilty.  I hadn’t exactly been interrogating Lisa, after all.

The waiter came by and, not having even opened the menus, we decided it was a good idea to figure out what we wanted.  Lisa asked if I had any recommendations, and that turned into a general conversation on restaurants and then food.  Sherri raved about the breakfasts I’d cooked, and so I had to back up and fill Lisa in on how Tina had taught me to cook.  When our food arrived, I realized I was famished.  The conversation slowed to just short sentences as we all dove in.  Lisa kept peppering me with questions, though, mostly about Tina.  I decided to return the favor and asked about her own love life.  She rattled on about a couple of guys she’d been dating, none seriously, and none who knew about her part-time job.  Sherri’s eyes just danced as Lisa spoke.

I finished eating while Lisa was still talking and leaned back in my chair, satiated.  Sherri was already done and, when I glanced over, winked at me.  I dropped my hands to my lap and tried to give Lisa my full attention.

Sherri had other ideas.  She placed her hand on top of mine, under the table.  Then she gently lifted it and moved it to her own thigh.  My eyebrows shot up—she’d set my hand directly on top of a garter belt strap, unambiguous despite the intervening skirt.

“What?” Lisa asked, noticing our distraction.

“She’s, uh,” I began.  I looked at Sherri for help but she just smirked.  “She’s proving what she’s wearing.”

Lisa frowned for a moment and then looked around the edge of the table, trying to get a better view.  Her face lit up.  “Oh!” she said.

She grabbed my other hand and drew it to her own thigh.  Once again, the feel of the garter strap was unmistakable.  Both women burst into giggles at my expression, but I didn’t care.  I just left my hands on their thighs, enjoying the moment.

Unfortunately, the moment had to end.  The waiter approached and asked if we wanted dessert.  I’d never been less interested in chocolate in my life.  Unfortunately, Lisa didn’t share my disinterest, and released my hand to accept the dessert menu.  I let out a small sigh, and accepted the one he handed me.  With both hands firmly in view, I smiled ruefully at Sherri.  She just merrily rolled her eyes in return.  It looked like I’d just have to settle for chocolate and a good cup of coffee.  Lisa and Sherri ordered port and toasted me as ‘the luckiest guy in the restaurant.’  Given the limited criteria, I could hardly disagree.

Over an hour later, the ladies walked me to my car.  Lisa continued to joke and flirt with me a little, but most of the conversation was about their former employer and former coworkers.  Apparently the drinks had loosened Lisa’s tongue enough for her to start complaining.  She made it clear what she thought of Toni, and of some of Toni’s favorites, or “pets,” as Lisa called them.  I just strolled along in amused silence.  Sherri didn’t speak up either, other than to add one or two words of agreement here and there.

When we reached my car, we all paused.  I didn’t want the evening to end, but it didn’t seem right to ask Sherri to spend the night.  She’d helped with the letter, which is what I’d truly needed.  Everything else had been fun, and it just felt wrong to try to push it further.

I liked that thought—I could recognize when enough was enough.

The pause didn’t last long.  Lisa caught my eyes and opened her arms.

“Thanks for letting me come out with y’all tonight,” Lisa said, stepping into me for a hug.

“No problem.”

She slid into my arms and squeezed me tightly.  My nostrils flared at the scent of her perfume—vanilla mixed with musk.  Then she stepped back and Sherri moved forward.

“Good luck,” she said into my ear while she hugged me.

“Thanks for the help.”

Sherri pulled back and smiled.  “Anytime.  And feel free to call me—,”  she glanced at Lisa, “either of us.  At any time for any reason.”

“Will do.”

They waved one last time as I got in my car and pulled out into the street.  I watched in my mirror as they turned and started walking back the way we’d come.

I mused about Sherri’s final words on the drive.  Any reason?  I could think of a lot of reasons.  And Lisa was straight!

I briefly savored the thought of calling to ask Lisa on a date.  She was pretty and fun, after all.  But almost immediately, my gut rebelled, tightening as if it had been punched.

I wanted Tina, not Lisa.

Maybe if things didn’t work out with Tina, I could give Lisa a call.  I wasn’t sure how I felt about dating an escort, or former escort if she decided to not go to another agency.  I snorted.  At least I’d finally have my threesome, I realized.  Lisa probably wouldn’t have any qualms at all about me screwing my friend Sherri.

That gave me pause.  For tonight really had felt more like friends than therapist/client.  I liked that.  Maybe it had just been a fluke, resulting from Lisa being along and forcing it to be more casual.  But I still liked it.  I wondered if Sherri felt the same way?

I shook the thoughts off.  If Sherri did, she’d tell me.  Better to not analyze it to death before then.

Instead, I kept myself busy for the next several days.  I make the corrections to the letter to Sharon and mailed it.  Then I pushed myself at work, until I was far enough ahead that I couldn’t really justify overtime.  I finished my more recent novel and picked up a new one, as well as a new cookbook on desserts.  Some day I was going to have to cook more than breakfasts for women and I figured some practice making cakes wouldn’t hurt.  I also continued walking in the evenings, down to buy my lottery ticket and back.  It wasn’t much exercise, but it certainly improved my mood just before bed.

Keeping myself busy accomplished its goal.  Instead of stewing like before, the only tense times came when I checked the mail.  My pulse would race as I put my key into my box, and then I’d let out a whoosh of breath when I saw only bills and ads.

Until the day there was more.  Tucked between my bank statement and a come-on for a new credit card sat a hand-addressed envelope.  With Tucson as the return address.

Tina had replied.

My pulse still racing, I somehow stumbled into my apartment.  I dropped the other mail and sank onto the couch.  I looked at the front of the envelope one more time.

Was this “I forgive you?”  Or was this “goodbye forever?”

With a deep breath, I tore open the envelope, unfolded the paper, and began to read.

Dear Joe,

                                                                  Tina

I set down the letter and took several deep breaths.  I wasn’t surprised to realize I was shaking even more.  There was a chance.  There was a real chance.  I took a few more deep breaths to steady myself.  Then I reached for the phone to call a travel agent.  I was headed to Arizona.

--Fin--

© 2006, all rights reserved.

Read the next chapter in this story: Chapter Twenty-eight

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