Chance Encounter

© Copyright 2006

Autumn Writer

 

Dear Readers,

 

This is a sequel to a story that I wrote some time ago, “The End of Summer”.   It is written in such a way that you can enjoy it without reading its predecessor.  If you could read the first part, however, it would enhance the experience of the second.

 

*************  

 

He didn’t know what he was doing in the department store.  He was looking at men’s shirts, but not really interested.  Paul hated stores, but he hated airports more.  It was just something to kill the time before leaving for Midway Airport.  He had his overnight bag over his shoulder and briefcase in his hand.  He looked around for a coffee shop as a place to change gears.  Not finding one, he turned his attention back to the displays. 

 

The meeting hadn’t gone as well as Paul had expected.  The contractor was supposed to be ready and the state regulators should have been on board.  There were still a lot of loose ends and loose cannons.  No one had done their homework.  It would mean more commutes to Chicago than he had planned on.  It’s not that he disliked the Windy City.  He enjoyed it.  The restaurants were the best; the population the friendliest.  It was easier to root for the Bears than the hapless Lions.  It was the commute that irritated him: the puddle-jumper from Saginaw, the switch in Detroit, the taxi ride from O’Hare or Midway to downtown Chicago.

 

“Comes with the job.” He thought to himself.  “I asked for it—I got it!”

 

He went back to searching through rows of shirts.  He knew that he wasn’t going to buy anything; he was just going through the motions.  He was doing that a lot more than he would like, lately.  That’s why he sought the job he had.  There was no ‘going through the motions’ in it.  After Sally’s death five years ago he needed something to dive into.  This position was just the ticket, and he was well-qualified, too.

 

There was a voice in the background.   At first, he didn’t acknowledge it because he hadn’t expected any strangers to call him by name.  When the sound drifted from his subconscious to the front of his brain, he quickly turned toward the source.

 

“Paul, Paul Crane?” the voice called out.

 

A woman, about his age, looked at him expectantly.  She was thin, wore glasses.  She had red hair with a few gray streaks in it.  Some might say that she was a little plain-looking, but certainly neat and well-put-together.  She looked vaguely familiar.

 

“You don’t recognize me!  It’s Glenda Mahoney!”

 

Paul’s first reaction was ‘who in hell is Glenda Mahoney?’, but a voice from his youth was shouting in the distance.  Paul’s mind’s eye was driven back to a hot summer afternoon many years ago.

 

“Glenda! I don’t believe that I’m looking at you.  What are doing here?  You look great—it’s so nice to see you!”  Paul clasped her hand, shocked at the pleasant surprise.”

 

“I’m very happy to see you, Paul.  I live in Chicago.  I should ask you what you’re doing here.”

 

“Commuting.” He replied.  “I live in Michigan.  I work for a chemical company up there.  We had a meeting in Chicago today.  Right now, I’m just killing time before my flight home.  I’d much rather spend it with you going over old times.”

 

“I can’t.” She told him.  “It would be nice if I could, but I’m late getting back to the office already.  Maybe if you get back this way …”

 

“I’ll be here in two weeks for a return meeting.  Can I call you then?”

 

She gave him some information that he wrote in his daybook.

 

“It was nice seeing you, Paul.  I’ve got to run.”

 

She turned, hurrying out the door.  Paul watched her disappear.  He had always wondered what had happened to Glenda, the enigmatic girl who had initiated him into the world of carnal knowledge in a wooded grove thirty-six years ago.  Maybe he would find out.

 

Paul had no appetite left for shopping.  He left the store and caught a cab to the airport.

 

***************** 

 

Paul didn’t mind the long trip back this time.  Seeing Glenda gave him a lot to think about.  He dusted off the old memory of his youth.  She had followed him into a pine grove, where they lay on a blanket on a hot August afternoon and gave each other their virginity.  It was during the summer after they had graduated from high school together.  After that, they went separate ways.  He still didn’t know onto which paths Glenda’s life had led her.

 

As the turbo-prop bumped along the clouds, Paul ambled down memory lane.  A few days after his encounter with Glenda, he rode off to State University.  He played football and studied chemical engineering.  He turned out to be pretty good at both.    

 

Paul still worked for the same company that paid his way through grad school.  He was named Vice-President of Engineering a year ago.  It was a job that suited him.  He had high professional standards; he was determined; he was a good leader.

 

At fifty-four he didn’t have much to do, except his job.  The kids were away at college.  Five years earlier his wife of twenty-five years, Sally, had been killed by a hit and run driver.  The devastating loss had driven him deeper into his work.  Aside from that first time with Glenda, Sally had been the only woman he had ever been with.  With her gone, no one else knew this.  If a person were to speculate on the subject, they would surely arrive at the wrong conclusion.  Paul still had good looks and an athlete’s physique.  His football fame brought celebrity.  Those factors, and the casual sex mores of the seventies, would make one assume that Paul had many bed partners during his college years.

 

That may have been the norm, but for Paul, it just wasn’t true.  Studies and sports gave him little time for anything else.  On top of that, in those days Paul had an introverted, not shy, personality.  He was well spoken when called upon, but shunned casual small talk.  He parsed and analyzed layers of meaning in every encounter.  People respected Paul, but, except for a few close friends, it was hard to get close to him in those days.  Sally later helped him out of his shell, without destroying the sincerity that made him the person that he was.

 

Many around him, including his children, encouraged Paul to search out female companionship after Sally’s death.  Paul had no interest.  He still wore his wedding band five years after the sad event.  No one would ever take Sally’s place.  With her gone, Paul was reverting to some of his old ways.  He could not fathom an intimate relationship with emotional limits; the spaces of his deepest emotions were still reserved for Sally.  He knew that Sally would be one of those encouraging him.  She had always enjoyed sex, and taught Paul to enjoy it, too. 

 

He could hear her lecture: ‘Paul, you still have the looks, the shape, your health and plenty of money.  You are only fifty-four years old.  Find a woman that wants some fun, and have some fun with her.  She doesn’t have to be your soul-mate.’  Paul knew it was the right advice, but letting go was so hard.

 

The plane was about to touch down for a landing.  It occurred to Paul that by promising to call Glenda when he was in Chicago again he was, technically, asking for a date.  He reasoned that she was probably married.  He had, then, asked a married woman on a date.  He should have thought of that.  Clearly, he realized, he wasn’t ‘dating scene material’.   

 

************ 

 

It was noon on a Wednesday.  Paul felt the meeting skidding into oblivion.  The men from the State Environmental Agency were just not getting the picture; perhaps it was a chosen recalcitrance.  All their concerns had been resolved, but the ‘go ahead’ on the plant was not forthcoming.  It was not a complicated project; a plant to produce solvents used in the metals industry.  Paul’s company had a good environmental record, and the plan passed all the tests, and better.  It wasn’t even going to be built in Chicago; it was just a good meeting place for all the parties.  The site was in a smaller city about one hundred fifty miles to the southwest.  The local city fathers were all for the new plant.  They desired the new jobs and added tax base.  Paul guessed that the State guys just wanted to roll into the Windy City every few weeks for a restaurant tour disguised as a meeting, funded by expense accounts.  Springfield was very nice, but it wasn’t Chicago.

 

“Gentlemen, what more data can we give you?” Paul said.  “We’ve satisfied your every request.  You’re still not in agreement.  We have no idea at this point what your acceptance criteria are.”

 

The lead man from the state straightened up. 

 

“Actually, Mr. Crane, we have asked Dr. Arthur Hopkins from Concerned Scientists of America to consult with us.  He won’t be available until Monday.  Maybe we could adjourn until then.”

 

There it was!  One sentence revealed all that months of meetings had left a mystery.  It told Paul what he had to do.  All the studies, reports and data in the world would not move the mountain until the great Dr. Hopkins had been dealt with.

 

Arthur Hopkins was the designated spear-chucker for a major competitor of Paul’s company.  When the new facility went on line, it would give Paul’s company a big advantage because of lower transportation costs to the market.  It was Hopkins’ job to delay, diminish or halt the new plant.  He would roll out one study after another that showed some environmental or safety concern.  Paul considered Hopkins to be the king of ‘junk science.’  His only question was whether the State men were in the pocket of the competitor, too, or along for the ride in a ‘c-y-a’ exercise.  Paul thought the later, but kept his mind open on the former.

 

Hopkins’ arrival would have brought sighs of despair from less experienced men.  Paul was actually relieved.  He saw the ‘end game’ in sight.  He had dealt with Hopkins before.  He knew just how to handle him.

 

After the State men had left, Paul spoke to the General Contractor, who had been at the meeting, too. 

 

“Get the Peoria Mayor and a couple of Council members to the Monday meeting;” Paul ordered.  “… and the State Senator from the locale, as well.  Brief them—keep them on board.  I’ll get our research people to free up some resources and get a professor from the University to support us.  We’ll have that permit soon.”

 

The contractor nodded in agreement.  Paul had his plan made.  The Peoria folks would put political pressure on the State guys to get off the dime and the University professor would be counterpoint to Hopkins.  Paul’s staff could roll out studies that would surpass Hopkins’ wildest dreams.  He knew that the competitor would only pay for Hopkins’ fees and studies until the cost of keeping the charade going was more than the costs of lost business.  Paul’s company could foot the bill, and as a VP, he had the authority to authorize it.  It was expensive, but it was worth it to depreciate Hopkins’ future value to anyone.     

 

Paul knew that the process wasn’t over in terms of time, but nearly at an end with respect to substance.  Hopkins was always the ‘last bullet in the chamber’.  Paul hated doing business like this.  He would have preferred a professional analysis, but he hadn’t called the tune.  Soon, he thought, he could turn this project over to a subordinate and keep track of it from a distance.

 

The meeting had been scheduled to go all day.  After that, Paul planned a dinner with the contractor and a flight back to Michigan in the morning. 

 

“Mind if I take a raincheck on the dinner, Paul.  These meetings have put me way behind.  I could use the time, if that’s alright.”  

 

“No problem, Harry.”  Paul understood perfectly.  “Can you just drop me at my hotel before you take off?”

 

When Paul returned to his room he tossed his brief case on the bed.  He wasn’t even packed because he hadn’t planned on the early break.  It was past check out time at the hotel, and he knew that he would never book a flight until at least four.  He decided to stay overnight.

 

His promise to Glenda had been nagging him.  Her phone number was still in his daybook.  Paul had mixed feelings about calling her.  Surely, she was married or attached.  He had no wish to complicate her life.  On the other hand, she had given him her number with no qualifiers. 

 

“I wish that I knew what all this means.” He said out loud in the loneliness of hotel room.  There was the reservation at the steakhouse.  It would be a shame to waste it without a dinner companion.  The worst would be that she would turn him down.  Paul decided to make the call.

 

“Hello, Glenda?  Paul Crane speaking.  Sorry to call you at work.  I’m in Chicago overnight.  I thought that I’d call you … like we talked about a few weeks ago.  Can you make it to Keefer’s at seven-thirty?  Eight?  Alright—no problem!  I’ll be there before you.  Just ask for me.  Great!  I’ll see you then.”

 

As he hung up the phone, Paul let out a cry of self-disgust and gave a mock slap to his forehead.  He had forgotten to ask if it was going to be alright with her husband, or even if she had a husband.  To him, it was further confirmation that he should never be allowed to roam unsupervised in civilized society.  He wondered if he should call her back.  He decided against it.  He would make his apologies at the restaurant.

 

*********** 

 

Paul was in the restaurant, seated at his table, nursing a ‘scotch-on-the-rocks’.  He had arrived for his reservation at the appointed seven-thirty.  He could have shown up at eight, but Paul hated to be late or renege.  He felt that he owed it to the restaurant to show at the stated time.  It was a self-imposed, unnecessary burden, but Paul was set in his ways.  He didn’t mind because the atmosphere was relaxing, and he could hear strains of smooth jazz from the combo playing in the bar.  It would be perfect if Sally were there enjoying it with him.    

 

They wouldn’t have wasted the atmosphere with idle chit-chat.  If there was nothing to say, there was no point in saying it.  She would be sipping on chardonnay while he savored his scotch.  When the band would finish a number they would glance at one another, share a comment about the music.  The band would resume and they would fall silent again.  It was a good feeling to just share the music and relax in the presence of the other.  He knew that she felt the same.  They needed no words.  Time together had allowed them to forge that invisible-to-everyone-else communication.

 

Eventually they would order their dinners, to the relief of the petulant waiter.  Sally would always have fish.  Paul knew that part of the reason was that fish was the lowest-priced entree on the menu.  They could afford to eat at a fancy restaurant every night if they chose.  Sally never gave up that wife-of-grad-student frugality she had perfected in their early days.  Sally always denied it; said that she just liked fish.  Paul had been annoyed by it for a time.  Then, he realized that she just refused to release her hold on their just-married years together when they taught each other so much.

 

As he polished off his first scotch and ordered another, Paul reminded himself that he was longing for something in the present that only existed in the past.  He relived those happy scenes many times over.  It was his only way of touching her.  For a person suddenly alone, there is a freedom of the imagination that is the cruelest prison of all.  Memory blends into expectation.  The past is lived again countless times, each repeat more soothing.  It is a stifling comfort.  It smothers the future and new beginnings.

 

“Live your whole life, Paul, not just the first half.” He muttered under his breath to himself.  He knew that it would be Sally’s advice, too, if she were there to give it.

 

He wished he could simply order himself to follow his own directive, like he did for scores of employees.  He would never give up Sally’s memory.  He groped to find coexistence for the old and new.  Like the engineer that he was, he set out to derive the equation that was so elusive.  He knew the key variable was his own stubborn self.  At any rate, he was convinced that his angst made him unfit company for prospective female friends.

 

The final thought sprung him from his reverie just in time to spy the maitre d’ quickly approaching with Glenda close behind.

 

*************  

 

Paul watched as the two approached his table.  He thought that Glenda looked sharp.  She wore business attire, a navy gabardine suit, with a simple white silk suit sweater underneath.  Her clothing was well-tailored to fit her.  A small gold lapel pin dotted the blazer.  Other than the pin and her watch, she wore no other jewelry.  The thinness of her youth had been preserved in her current years.  As she drew nearer, he noticed that she wore small wire-rimmed glasses and a few wrinkles around the eyes.  A few streaks of gray interrupted her red hair that was straight, cut to a length just above the collar of her blazer.  In many ways, Glenda looked like the girl that he had known in his youth.  There were differences, too.  In a certain way, it was a blending of old and new.

 

Paul stood as the maitre d’ seated Glenda.  It was in the chair opposite him, each safe in their proprietary space.  Before Paul could speak the waiter approached for Glenda’s drink order.

 

“Vodka and tonic, please.” She said.

 

“Glenda”, Paul smiled, truly glad to see her, “where were we before we were interrupted?”

 

Glenda looked confused, since no conversation had yet started.  Then the double entendre of his question dawned on her and she burst into laughter.  Paul laughed too, a little surprised that his joke went over as well as it did.

 

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Glenda.  I just thought that I’d get that out of the way up front.  I didn’t intend for you to interpret …”

 

“Stop apologizing, Paul!” Glenda held up her hand like a traffic cop.  “It’s a nice memory.” She assured him in a quieter tone.

 

Paul shrugged, and then nodded.  Sally would chide him, too, when he took things too seriously.  Paul had more apologizing to do, so he plunged in to get it over with.

 

“Glenda, I invited you without thinking about how it might effect your …” Paul searched for the right word, “current relationships.”

 

Glenda smiled laughingly and shook her head.  “None to worry about” she answered. “See?” as she held up her ring-less left hand in proof.

 

“I would have said something when you asked me a few weeks ago, if there was a problem.” She continued.  “Good old Paul—you were always thinking too much.”

 

There was a short pause, each searching for something to say.

 

“I see you’re married.” She broke the silence, looking at Paul’s wedding band.  “Tell me about her.”

 

“Sally and I were married for twenty-five years.” Paul answered.  “She was killed five years ago in a traffic accident.”

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” replied Glenda, and cast her eyes down at the table. 

 

They said nothing for a time, sipping on their drinks.  Paul knew that Glenda felt bad about bringing up Sally. 

 

“It’s alright, Glenda.  I think about Sally all the time without anyone’s help.  Anyway, you had no way to know.”

 

Glenda looked up and gave him a smile.  It didn’t solve the silence, though.  Neither knew how to resume.  Paul considered himself at fault.  He reminded himself how unfit company he was for any female acquaintanceship.  On a more concrete basis, he should have thought to cue her on the subject, or the wearing of his wedding band would be on false pretenses.

 

“It is a nice memory, isn’t it?” Paul offered, trying to reset at the beginning.

 

“Yes,” Glenda replied. “I think about it every once-and-a-while when I’m a little ‘down’ and I want to make myself feel better.”

 

That answer was more than Paul had bargained for.  It deepened the sweetness of the memory, and implied a continuing familiarity, even if dormant for decades.  It brought forth the battle raging in Paul’s spirit—between the longing for the isolation of grief and the natural desire for one human being to touch another. 

 

In the past, Paul would have fled to that convenient closet of sadness.  He thought that perhaps the time had come to cease retreating.  He would not, however, charge out in a single bold step.  He decided to scout ahead and test the terrain for safety.

 

“Here’s to nice memories!” Paul proclaimed as he lifted his glass.  Glenda raised hers too, touching his gently.

 

“What about you?” Paul changed the subject.  “What’s happened to you during all these years?”      

 

“I was hoping to talk awhile about what happened on a blanket in the woods a long time ago, Paul.  It would be a better story.”  She looked at him with a question in her eyes that asked how much he really wanted to know.

 

When Paul didn’t answer Glenda drew a deep breath and swallowed the rest of her vodka. 

 

“If you really want to hear this, then you better order me another drink.”

 

************** 

 

“About six weeks after you went off to college, my mother and I moved out here to Chicago.  I wanted to enroll in secretarial school, but she asked me to go with her.  It was just to be a short stay at first.  My Aunt Margaret was ill.  Everyone in the family thought that my mother should be the one to come out and stay with her because my father had recently passed away.  They must have thought that she couldn’t have had anything better to do.  Mother didn’t know how to say ‘No!’  We thought that we were only committed until the beginning of the New Year.  I guess that I couldn’t say “No!” either.  Anyway, by the time the next Easter rolled around, it was clear that we were here to stay.”

 

A fresh round of drinks arrived.  Paul ordered a steak.  Glenda had the same.

 

“I got a job as a receptionist.” Glenda continued.  “It wasn’t great, but it paid the bills.”

 

“Aunt Margaret passed away that July.  Mother felt like the ‘Angel of Death’; first my father, then Aunt Margaret.  The family seemed to avoid her after that.  It was so unfair.  They recruited her to give up her home to look after my aunt in her final days, and then dropped her like a hot potato.  It wasn’t long before Mother’s health started sliding, too.  I know that she felt empty.  My brothers were hardly ever to be found.  She died about four years later.  I think that she just got too tired and lonely.”

 

“I didn’t know your mother very well,” Paul said, “but I’m sorry.”

 

Glenda raised her hand to stop him.

 

“The story’s just getting started!” she warned.  Paul shrugged and motioned for her to proceed.

 

“Not long after that I found a receptionist job at a better company.  I still had dreams of going to secretarial school.  I was only twenty.  I found a new boyfriend, too.  Pretty soon I was pregnant.  We decided to get married—big mistake.  Halfway through, he changed his mind and made me get an abortion.  It was a back-street job in the days just before Roe and they botched it.  I ended up in Emergency, hemorrhaging.  I found out that there would be no more pregnancies.  My soon-to-be ‘ex’ said that he didn’t want a wife who could never have kids.  I think that he just wanted an excuse.  I don’t know where he is now.”

 

“It took me while to recover, and I lost my job.  I was broke for awhile, but someone is always looking for a receptionist.  Three years later, I got married again.  It didn’t work out.  I was a two-time loser at the age of twenty-nine.”

 

“The second divorce had a better settlement, though.  It paid my way through secretarial school.  After that, I found a job at Northwestern University.  It’s actually not far from here.  I’ve been there ever since—nearly twenty-five years.  I worked hard.  For the past four years, I’ve been secretary to the Dean of the Law School.  That’s why I had to be late tonight.  I was helping him get ready for a presentation.  I came here right from work.”

 

As she finished, their entrees arrived.  The waiter set them on the table. 

 

Paul had listened in near disbelief  to her biography.

 

“That’s an amazing story, Glenda.” Paul said.  “You’ve been through a lot of hardship.  I don’t see a trace of self-pity.”      

 

“I left that part out.” She joked as she cut a forkful of steak.  “You’re the one with the amazing story.  It was easier to keep track of you.  We would see your name in the paper when you were playing football.  I even learned something about the game.  My mother would always give me the ‘if only’ routine every time your name was in print.”

 

“Little did she know …” Paul chimed in.  They both laughed and Glenda rolled her eyes.

          

“Then it was in all the papers,” Glenda continued, “how you refused to go into the pro football draft—because you wanted to be an engineer.  That sounds like a storybook!”

 

“Ancient history!” declared Paul, waving his hand dismissively. 

 

“Well, what’s the rest?” Glenda demanded.

 

“I’ve been lucky—except for Sally passing away.  We have a daughter and a son.  One is in grad school at Michigan State.  The other is an undergrad at Marquette.  They’re both great kids!  When I graduated from State a chemical company hired me.  First they sent me to grad school in New York State.  That’s where Sally and I met.  I’ve worked for them ever since.  We’ve lived in many places—even overseas a couple of times.  I work now in the headquarters in Michigan.  That’s probably where I’ll be until I retire.”

 

Paul stopped speaking and Glenda nodded to acknowledge that the biography had concluded.  It was only then that they noticed the sweet sounds of the jazz combo leaking “Stardust” from the bar into the dining room. 

 

“What do you think of the band?” Glenda asked.  “It gives a nice ambience to the place, don’t you think?”

 

They listened silently for a few moments.

 

“I think that the piano player needs a stronger left hand.” said Paul.

 

“Just listen and enjoy!” Glenda scolded, laughing.  Paul started laughing, too.

 

Paul obeyed.  They finished their dinners.  They ordered dessert.  Normally, he would pass and just have a coffee.  The mood hit him right, however, and he indulged himself. 

 

“Glenda,” he began, “I don’t want to embarrass you, but I have to tell you something.”

 

She looked up from her raspberry torte and waited for the rest.  Paul didn’t continue.

 

“Well, what did you want to say that would embarrass me?” she said, eyebrows furled.

 

“Only this,” he said, taking a deep breath.  “It hasn’t been since Sally died that I’ve had as much pleasure dining out as I’ve had so far tonight.  Thanks for coming out with me!”

 

The words made Glenda drop her fork loudly to her plate.  Her expression changed.  Before Paul made his utterance, she had the look of someone preparing to return humorous repartee.  After the pronouncement she had the helpless look of a person touched, by complete surprise.   Finally, she gathered herself for a reply.

 

“Paul, you are so nice to say that!” she said softly, looking him squarely in the eye.    “How could you think that you would embarrass me?”  Paul shrugged; himself a little sheepish.

 

“It really hurt you when you wife was killed.  It hurts you now.” She continued.  “I’m so sorry.”

 

Paul looked down at the table for a second, then back up at Glenda.

 

“When a person dies,” he began “there’s a finite amount of pain associated with it.  It’s shared by all the people involved.  If it is a long slow death, the person dying suffers most.  The loved ones are spared the bulk of it because they have a chance to prepare.  When it’s the other way around, the balance is reversed.  The suffering is left for those who remain behind.”

 

“Someday, you’ve got to let it go.” Glenda said.

 

“I feel better right now having said it.  It’s something that I didn’t realize was inside me until this moment; but I know now that it’s true.” Paul said.  “I’m sorry to unload it onto your shoulders.”

 

Glenda gave her hand a little wave, to make light of the supposed burden.

 

“Now I’ll embarrass you with something.” She said, her face brightening.  “When I found out that you’re single, and you saw that I’m single, too—and considering our  history—I was just waiting for you to make a move to get me into bed tonight.  After a while, I knew that I didn’t have to worry.  It made the dinner a lot more enjoyable.  Thank you, Paul.  You’re a nice man!”

 

“Now I am embarrassed!” he said, with a red face.  “It’s been a long time for me.  I wouldn’t know how to go about it, even if it had been my plan.”

 

They laughed on it for a few moments.

 

“It’s been a long time for me, too, Paul.  The last man that I was in bed with was my second ex-husband—before he was my ‘ex’.”

 

They were ready to leave; Paul asked the maitre d’ to call a cab.

 

“Where’s your car?” he asked her. 

 

“I left it back at Northwestern.” She answered.  “If it’s alright with you, I think we can have the taxi drop you at your hotel and then take me home.  I’ll leave my car in the lot overnight and take the ‘el’ in tomorrow.”

 

“It was a splendid dinner, Paul, and so elegant.  If I didn’t know that you’re on an expense account, I would offer to pay Dutch Treat.” She joked. 

 

“I could put it through”, he answered, “but I’m not going to.  It would take away part of the pleasure.”

 

As the cab pulled up to the hotel Paul turned to Glenda.  “Would you mind if I were to call you again?”  He gave the cabbie a fifty and told him to take her where she told him.

 

“I’ll mind a lot if you don’t!” she proclaimed.

 

************* 

 

On Friday, two days later, it was late morning and Paul was in his office waiting for a call from Harry Carmichael, the general contractor on the Peoria job.  While he waited he thought about Glenda.

 

He had been thinking about her a lot since their dinner two nights before.  Their time together had been surprisingly pleasant.  Paul decided that there was a lot to like about her.  She was like Sally in some ways, but quite different in others. 

 

While Sally would have sipped white wine and eaten baked fish, Glenda was knocking down vodka and tying into a steak.  If Sally had ever tried to drink three vodkas, she would have needed a stretcher to get out of the restaurant.  Glenda looked like she could have handled one or two more.

 

Glenda was like Sally in that she didn’t let Paul’s serious side get to her—and didn’t let it get to Paul, either.  Paul liked that.  He respected what Glenda had done with her life, after starting out with so much against her.  He meant what had said in the restaurant about her not showing any self-pity.  That meant a lot to Paul.  He liked the way that she looked him in the eye and said what was on her mind.  She could laugh and joke with him, one-on-one.  Then, in an instant, she could release her sweet feminine side as needed.  At the right time, she would sit quietly while Paul poured himself out on her, with neither judgment nor retort.  Paul decided that he wanted Glenda as a friend.  It was new for him to have a woman as a friend. 

 

The phone rang.  Paul’s secretary announced that Harry was on the line.

 

Paul:   Hello, Harry, everything lined up for Monday?

 

Harry: Good news and bad, Paul.  The guys in Peoria are behind us, but can’t get to Chicago on Monday; same with the State Senator.  The good new is that the local Chamber and AFL-CIO want to get behind us, too. 

 

Paul:   Harry, this will work out just fine.  I’m going to stay away from the meeting on Monday.  I’ll send Jim Spencer in my place.  I don’t want Hopkins to think that I’m all excited just because he’s showing up.  Spencer needs the experience, anyway, and whatever Hopkins has got, Jim can figure it out just as well as I could.  We’ll let Hopkins talk to the wall.  We’ll lower the boom in the next go-around.

 

Harry: Sounds good to me, Paul.  I was worried before I spoke to you, but I feel better now.   I’ll let you know how it goes.

 

Paul’s decision to skip the Monday meeting made him change his plans on seeing Glenda.  He was wondering if it would have been too soon for a follow-up date, anyway.  He pressed the intercom button and spoke to his secretary.

 

“Marge, please ask Jim Spencer to step into my office, and then see if you can book me into that Chicago seminar next Friday.”

 

************ 

 

It wasn’t a very original date idea.  Paul always went with what worked.  The dinner the week before turned out so well, so he asked Glenda to dinner again at the same place.  He had called her Tuesday and she happily agreed.

 

He waited for her at the bar sipping a scotch.  He barely heard the band playing softly at the opposite end of the room.  Waiting for Glenda to arrive, Paul looked forward to being with her again.  He thought about Sally, and tried to coax himself into feeling guilty.  He thought that he heard Sally’s voice in the background.  Paul expected to hear her sad and melancholy, or jealous at the appearance of a challenger.  Paul was wrong.  Sally’s voice was happy and lilting, whispering to his subconscious: “Yes, Paul!  Go for it!” 

 

He saw Glenda walk in.  He caught her eye and motioned her over.  She had a nice look, just as the week before, but it was more suited to nightlife than her business apparel of the week before.  She wore a white blazer, and under it a navy dress with small white dots.  The dress dropped to mid-calf, and was full at the bottom.  The neckline was cut in a vee, but not immodestly.  It had some small pleats about the collar that gave it a full appearance and looked more dressed up.  She wore a pearl necklace that sat on her collarbone. 

 

Paul stood as she approached his place at the bar.  A broad smile emblazoned her face.  Paul detected a hint of perfume.

 

“Glenda, you really look very nice.” He told her honestly.

 

”Well, Paul, this time you gave me a few days’ notice so I had a chance.  I changed at work before I left.”

 

Paul’s chest expanded slightly at Glenda’s taking pains to look good for her date with him.  It was a nice feeling that he had almost lost the memory of.  It became a door opener.  He decided to allow himself the indulgence of emotion, if any came his way.    

 

“We can get our table now, if you’re ready.” He told her.

 

“Let’s stay here for a while.” Glenda said.  “I’m not ready for a big dinner yet, and the band sounds so nice.”

 

Paul picked up his drink from the bar and they found a nearby booth.  He motioned the waitress over.

 

“Vodka and tonic, right?” he asked here.

 

“No, not tonight.” She answered.  “I’m ready for a change.  I think that I’ll have an ‘Old Fashioned’.”

 

Paul ordered the drinks and asked the waitress to bring them a shrimp cocktail, as well. 

 

“I think that I’m ready for a change, too.”  Paul said.  Glenda sat at attention. 

 

“Last week I found myself manipulating my schedule so that I could make this date.”  He continued.  “After I did, I found myself really looking forward to it.  I was thinking about Sally, too.  Perhaps I should have felt guilty but I just couldn’t.  I didn’t feel like I was leaving her behind, either.  It just felt alright.”

 

In the dim light of the barroom booth it was hard for Paul to detect Glenda’s expression.  Her silence over the next ten seconds told him everything.  Paul had assumed that she would welcome an ‘arrangement’ between them.  They had gotten on so well together, he had assumed the next step would be an easy one. That was a mistake.   He stifled his disappointment for the time being.

 

“I think that I know where this is going, Paul.” Glenda answered.  “I enjoy being with you; I respect and admire you.  I just don’t know if I’m ready for what I think you’re headed for.”

 

The two fell silent, wanting to say more, unsure how to say it.

 

“I can’t take your wife’s place.”  Glenda finally said.  “The more I would try, the worse it would be.  It wouldn’t be right for me to try, either.”

 

“No one could ever take Sally’s place for me.” Paul said.  “She’s in me down deep.  I’ve done a lot of thinking about it this past week.  I realize that nothing could drive her out of me.  I didn’t understand that before.  I thought that another woman would.  I was afraid of being unfaithful to Sally.  I’m not afraid of that anymore.  There can be a place—an important place—for her and some room for someone else, too.”

 

“Paul,” Glenda spoke quietly with a sad look, “do you remember that I told you that I hadn’t been with a man since my second husband?”  Paul nodded.      

 

“There’s a reason for that.” She continued.  “When my second marriage broke up, it was devastating.  I was alone, in a dead-end job; could never have children; no family to speak of, and few friends.  I just couldn’t accept ending up that way.  My marriages had set me back, not helped me.”

 

Glenda took a gulp of her drink and raised her hands to let Paul know that she had more to say. 

 

“I decided that I would do something to make my life better, and I did.  I vowed that I wouldn’t get involved with men.  At first, I thought that I would find someone after I had made something of myself.  Then, I could come into a relationship with something to offer.  I got busy.  The years slipped by.  One day I realized that I would always be on my own … permanently.”

 

“Glenda,” Paul said “you’ve accomplished a lot for yourself.  You have every right to be satisfied with what you’ve done.  You have to run your life the way you see fit.”

 

“I like turning my own key; being independent.” She said, straightening up.  “There are things that I have to give up, too.  It’s lonely.  Sometimes I miss having some romance … and the pleasures that go with romance.  I dated a few men.  They were nice.  They were headed toward something that I couldn’t accept for myself; to be taken under their wing, possessed, obligated.  I had struggled to free myself.  Finally, I gave up and resigned myself to be alone.”           

 

“I have no desire to possess you.”  Paul assured her. 

 

“What would want of me, then?”

 

“Your friendship …” he answered.  “… as a woman, like you have done over the past few weeks.  Maybe I could be a friend to you.  I don’t want to get remarried, or even move out of my house.  I’m at the peak of my career—it means a lot to me.  I know for you, it’s the same.  It would be nice just to be able to know that I have a special friend here in Chicago.”

 

“I have to think about it, Paul.  I don’t think that I could give up my life.  You make it sound so simple.  I need to be sure.”

 

“Take your time.” Paul answered.  “I’m not shopping for bids. This possibility just came along without warning.  It has to be right for the both of us.”

 

They fell silent for a few minutes, nursing their drinks.  Finally Paul spoke, trying to brighten the mood.

 

“I got tickets to the Cubs for tomorrow afternoon.  I thought that you might like to go.”

 

“Oh Paul!” she exclaimed.  “I’ve never been to see the Cubs—or the White Sox, either.  I’m afraid I don’t know anything about sports.”

 

“It’ll be a learning experience!” he joked.  “What do you say?”

 

“As friends?” she asked.

 

“Sure, what do you say?”

 

“Alright, it’s a date!” she replied.  

 

The jazz combo started playing “Autumn Leaves”.

 

“Let’s dance!” she commanded.

 

“That’s asking a lot, Glenda.” He protested as she took his hand and dragged him out of the booth. 

 

“You don’t like to dance?  Most men don’t, but here you are, anyway!” she teased him.

 

Paul was glad that the lighter mood between them had returned.

 

“It was asking a lot to make me go to the baseball game,” She looked up at him, smiling, “so now we’re even.”

 

Paul didn’t say much, having to concentrate on holding his own on the dance floor.

 

“Do you promise not to try to possess me?” she asked, suddenly serious.

 

“That’s what I said.” He replied.

 

“I think that we’re two lost souls, trying to be found.” Glenda said.  “It was like that thirty six years ago in that pine grove.  Here we are again in the same way.

 

“What goes around comes around.” Paul replied, not meaning to be glib, but doing so just the same.  Glenda was unfazed.

 

We’ll be more than friends, but less than lovers.  We’ll be ‘loving friends’.”

 

“Suits me!” Paul said.  “I don’t know what else to say.”

 

“You’re supposed to say …” Glenda leaned closer; she whispered to him “… let’s go to the hotel room.”

 

As they got into the cab, Glenda turned to Paul and said “Have him take us to my car at Northwestern.  We’ll take my car to the hotel.  I packed an overnight bag this morning and left it in my trunk.”

 

********** 

 

As Glenda and Paul stepped into the hotel room Paul placed the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside handle.  Glenda turned and looked at him with sparkling eyes and an eager smile.

 

It was a tranquil, rather than a frenzied scene.  The denial that had hounded them for so long was nearly over.  The timing and circumstances were right; nothing would stop them.

 

Paul set Glenda’s small suitcase on the foldout stand, and then turned to her.  Glenda shrugged out of her blazer and hung it in the closet.  Her bare arms were long, white and thin.  To Paul, they looked warm and inviting.  Paul removed his own suit jacket and set it aside. 

 

She stepped toward him and they embraced.

 

“It’s been a long time.” Paul mumbled, unsure of what to say.

 

“For both of us” she purred, and lifted her face toward his, lips parted.

 

Paul understood the cue.  He kissed her gently, testing her reaction.  Glenda responded with a deeper kiss, and she crushed her body into his.  She flicked out her tongue and lightly danced it over Paul’ lips. 

 

They kept the kiss alive.  Paul reached behind her and slid down the zipper in the back of her dress.  As his fingers took hold of the hooks at the top she murmured a playful “uh-uh” into his mouth and then broke the kiss and stepped back.

 

“I brought something to put on for you, in case we got to this point.” She said.  “…and it looks like we have.” She added with a small laugh.  “I just need a few moments in the bathroom.  Why don’t you get comfortable, and fix us something to drink.”

 

She grasped her suitcase and Paul watched her disappear into the bathroom, the back of her dress unzipped.  He was sure that she went in to put on a negligee.  He didn’t see the need for the ritual.  He had no wish to complain, however, and ruin the mood. 

 

“I’m going out for ice.” he called to her.

 

When Paul returned she was still secured in the bathroom redoubt.  He shed his clothes, hanging up the suit and burying the underwear in his empty suitcase.  He put on a pair of cotton pajama bottoms.  The maid had already turned the bed down.  He placed the little chocolates on the nightstand.  Paul dropped some ice into two tumblers and poured some scotch from the mini bar into each of them.  He turned the lights lower.  As he finished the preparations, Glenda emerged from the bathroom.

 

She wore a black ensemble.  The nightie underneath was satin, knee-length, with a deep ‘vee’ neckline framed by black lace.  At the bottom hem was a border of black lace, so that the potential to reveal a bit of her thigh beckoned Paul’s attention.  Over it, she wore a peignoir made of a thin, gauzy material that she did not bother to button.  Her skin underneath played 'hide and seek' with the thin covering.  The outfit revealed little of the package underneath it.  It was more like a gift-wrapped present, where the receiver is mystified by the contents and yearns to rip away the fancy paper.  She didn’t bother with shoes or slippers.  Her pale skin was in sharp contrast to the fabric.  Paul instantly detected that her perfume had been refreshed.

 

She walked slowly out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.  It was as if she desired a compliment, but was careful not to proceed too quickly lest she would force her partner to speak in haste.  Paul had taken a seat in an overstuffed chair near the bed.  Glenda saw the drinks lined up on the mini-bar.  She picked them up and handed one to Paul.  She alit on the bed near where Paul was sitting tucking her feet underneath her.

 

“I like your outfit.”  Paul said.  “It’s beautiful; it suits you.”

 

“Thanks.” She said, blushing.  “I know that I’m being silly.  I just wanted to wear it because it has been so long for me and this being our first time.  I never had the chance to do this and I thought that it might be my last chance.”

 

“Don’t apologize, Glenda!” Paul said strongly.  “I like it!  It was thoughtful of you to go to the trouble.  To be honest, it’s exciting; and it won’t be your last chance.”

 

Glenda looked down, temporarily embarrassed.  Paul stood and pushed the peignoir off her shoulders.  Glenda raised her arms a bit and Paul gently tugged the rest of the way off. 

 

“Now I feel a little excited, too.” she said softly.

 

“Is your drink alright?” Paul asked her.  “There was no ‘Old Fashioned’; mix, so I just poured straight over the ice.

 

“It’s fine.” She said, and took a good swallow.

 

“I said that it’s our first time.” She continued.  “Of course it isn’t.  It feels like the first one after so many years.  It reminds me of our real first time together.”

 

“How so?” Paul asked her curiously.  “We’re a lot more ‘civilized” now.”

 

“I feel the same way right now as I felt back then.” Glenda explained.  “I was nervous, but wanted something new.  I knew that I wasn’t beautiful, but I hoped that you were a man who wouldn’t mind too much.  I took a chance.  It was right back then; it feels right tonight, too.”

 

“Glenda, you accuse me of thinking too much.  Stop worrying.” Paul assured her.     

 

Glenda tossed down the rest of her drink, and then stood up in front of Paul.

 

“You’re right, Paul.  I’d like it if you could help me off with this.” She said, taking the straps of the negligee symbolically in her delicate fingers.

 

Paul stood and took the reins of the straps from her.

 

“It seems like a shame.  You’re so beautiful in it.” Paul teased.

 

Glenda reached out her hand and gently stroked Paul’s erection through his pajamas.

 

“I think that the nightie has done its job.” She said, with a small giggle.

 

Paul didn’t answer, but drew the straps over her shoulders and pulled the fabric down until it was pooled at her waist.

 

“Remember these?” she taunted him.

 

Paul let go of the negligee and place his palms over her breasts.  He let the nipples poke our through his fingers.  Glenda sighed loudly, showing her pleasure.  Paul closed his fingers around the buds, squeezing them tenderly.  Glenda sighed again, more loudly this time, and Paul knew that he had pleasured her again.     

          

He released Glenda’s breasts and took hold of the black folds once again.  He pushed them down; Glenda stood nude in front of him.  Her breathing was deeper and more rapid.  Paul pulled his own pajamas down so that they pooled on the floor art his feet.  His nudity matched hers.

 

They stepped forward to resume the kiss they started some minutes ago.  This time it was filled with more desire.  They probed and tongued one another.  When they finally broke apart Glenda climbed to the middle of the oversized bed.  She lay on her back, knees bent slightly, arms outstretched inviting him.  Paul viewed the welcoming pose and the eagerness painted in her expression.  He joined her on the bed, lying on his side, re-embracing her.

 

They kissed and caressed one another for a time.  Glenda started to rub her middle against him.  From time to time she would gasp or exhale in pleasure.  She took hold of Paul’s erected penis that had been pressing at her belly.  Paul, in turn, slid a digit gently into her first fold, searching out her clitoris.  With their free hands and arms, they held each other more tightly.  Paul felt her moistness.  He thrust a finger inside as deeply as he could.  Her reaction told him that it registered well with her.  Her alternated between his deep probing and circling her clitoris.  Glenda still had her fingers wrapped around his shaft, but Paul could tell that she had lost concentration on it in favor of the pleasure that was gaining control of her.  It suited Paul fine.

 

Suddenly Glenda pushed Paul’s shoulder to signal him to lie on his back.  As soon as he did so, she sprang up and straddled him.  Glenda felt below for Paul’s shaft.  She positioned the head of it at her entrance, and then slowly and deliberately sank down on him, until his entire length was buried inside her. 

 

“Oh, yes!” she gasped.  She didn’t move, just held Paul inside herself, gently squeezing him with the muscles inside her.

 

Paul drank in the sensation of being inside Glenda, and watched her reaction as she took him into her.  Seeing her pleasure reassured him and pleasured him as much as the wet warm softness softly surrounding him as he waited inside her. 

 

When they had both silently counted out every point of pleasure, savored every aspect of it, they started grinding against each other.  They quickly learned the others’ timing.  It was a journey with an end in sight.  They approached climax as if on a mission.  They neither hurried nor delayed it, but accepted the onrush of it, reveling in their own sensations, and those of their partner.  Glenda tensed first, and let out and exultant cry.  Paul came soon after, flooding Glenda’s canal with his semen.  

 

Glenda remained atop Paul.  With the relaxation that follows sex, they dozed for a while.  When they awoke a short time later, they made love again, and then slept soundly together.

 

They spent the weekend together, going to the baseball game and other places.  The next night they lay together again, sending and receiving the pleasure that had escaped them for too long a time.

 

On Sunday night Glenda took Paul to the airport and he left for Michigan.  There was no sadness.  They were confident that they would be back together soon.

 

**************** 

 

The next day Paul was in his office.  Jim Spencer was with him, going over the progress on the Peoria project.

 

“Everything seems to be going our way.” Jim began.  “It’s just as you predicted it.”

 

“I’m no genius.” Paul said.  “I’ve just been down this road before.”

 

“The State guys didn’t quite give in, but it was apparent that their hearts weren’t in it anymore.  I think that they’ll throw in the sponge next meeting.  There’s one thing that did bother me, though.”

 

“What’s that, Jim?”  Paul asked.

 

“I was in the Men’s washroom.”  Jim began.  “Hopkins was in there with his assistant.  I don’t think that they saw me.  The assistant said that he had ‘spoken to his contacts at ‘Northwestern’.  Hopkins asked if ‘the Law School was on board’.  His assistant said that he thought so.”

 

“What do you think that he meant?” Paul questioned.

 

“Beats me, but it can’t be good.” Jim replied.

 

As Jim Spencer left the office Paul pondered the new wrinkle, and the threat it might mean to the project, and to Glenda and him.

 

TO BE CONTINUED  

 

 

******* 

 

Dear Readers,

 

I hope that you enjoyed the story.  As always, I enjoy hearing from you. 

 

I’ll be posting future installments of this story as they are ready.

 

Autumn Writer