Love is better the Second Time Around

• 
  It must have been a Friday the thirteenth for me that day. But no actually it just seemed that way. For actually it was just a typical Monday Bla-Day, for most people, except me. I am the only person I know who actually looked forward to Mondays. I usually was up early, getting a jump start off for the week. I booked as many appointments as I possibly could for the day, to kick off the week.
  Who was I trying to kid, I did it to pull myself out of the miserable home alone weekend. The weekend I usually spent going over books and new properties and grocery shopping for quick meals for the week. But this Monday morning was entirely different than most, everything went wrong that could possibly go wrong.
  I burned my finger pouring the worst coffee I ever made. I burned my toast, so I skipped breakfast all together. My nine 0 clock appointment didn't show at all, so I lost a whole hour. I got a run in my pantyhose, snagged on my desk chair and had to buy another pair. Snagging them I cussed "Dam this chair Susan order me a new one today."
  "Yes mam she said answering the phone. Susan, was my right arm and secretary.
  I thought I had got to where I wanted to be in life, my own boss. I wasn't rich, but I had my own Real Estate Office. I had incurred a nice nest egg and had a very nice two story brick home in the quiet selective neighborhood where I had always wanted to live, and lots of nice clothes. That whole day had been one disaster after another. Finally while I was heading home after a late dinner meeting with a client, I was exhausted. I had closed the deal on the house they wanted, but while the wife was in the restroom the jerk made a pass at me. I soon set him straight that I wasn't that type and pocketed his check into my briefcase and left him stunned.
  Typical of me I find I had had left now days, be what it was it was there when I needed it, until now. When a car pulled up and blinded me. I silently prayed it would be somebody for real and not some pervert, or escaped convict. I must have looked crazy in the blinding headlights. With drenched hair, greasy and dirty, kicking the crap and cussing out a defenseless piece of machinery.
  Someone in a suit and tie got out and coming over asked "Need help mam?"
  "Yes I do, I'd really appreciate it."
  "Well hello" He said "Get in the car pull on the emergency brake, and stay in out of the rain. I'll have it fixed in a minute Kat." He pulled a rain coat out of the car and I turned to do as I was told. Getting into the car I thought, " Well now that's the icing on the cake for today. I guess he should know me, we were married for two years." I wondered what he was doing back here. Silently I was thankful it was him that had stopped instead of some mad man. I had heard he had married last year, and moved on again, or ran away. Just like he did when I told him I wanted a divorce, and him out of my life.
  We had married right out of high school against our family wishes, we were head strong and hell bent on having our own way. But we had fought, oh God I remembered, every Monday night we fought like mad. He would drink all weekend and then I would have to drag him out of bed to go to work, at a job he hated. I sure didn't like mine either, but we were determined to make it on our own. We fought right through to Friday, then we would make up, clinging to each other and making love, then on Saturday he would start all over.
  I really didn't mind the drinking, until it got out of hand on the weekends. I occasionally liked it myself. But if we went out and he got drunk he would get jealous and start a fight with me or any guy who looked at me. About a year before we split up, he would come home drunk every night. He would complain about his job, then mine, then dinner. "Kat let's blow this lousy town, and make something of ourselves" He would beg me, and I would cry and say." I'm not leaving. You can make something of yourself right here Luke Warner, if you would stop drinking and be a man." That always hit him below the belt. He would grab me by the waist and throw me on the bed, and tickle me till we both forgot what we were fighting about. Then we would kiss and make wild love to each other. Luke's's kisses always melted my temper and weakened my knees. That and sex was the only thing we really had going to keep us going.
  I shivered now from my thoughts or the dampness I didn't know which. There was a tap on the window and I rolled it down. He said "It's on I put the jack and tire in the trunk. You need to get a new one soon, that spare is really slick."
  "Thanks Luke, I'll get one as soon as I can."
  "Want me to follow you and make sure you make it in?"
  "No thanks I'm not that far away from home." He ran a finger down my cheek, sending chills down my spine. He said "I see you're still as pretty as ever."
  "I see you're sober and it's nine P.M.."
  "Always punching me huh Kat?"
  "See you Luke thanks again." And I drove off gripping the wheel as hard as I could.
  Three days later I was on my way to buy that tire, when the car stalled. "Oh please not now. It's high traffic time." I coasted over to the side of the street and tried to start it again. Horns were blowing and people were yelling at me to get out of the way. Giving up on starting it I hung my head on the steering wheel and cried. I heard a noise and looked up. I saw my hood up and someone was tapping on the windshield, giving me the signal to try and start it. There was still no starting it.
  The hood slammed and I saw the face of who came to my rescue, it was Luke. Getting in and scooting me over he said "St she would his sister. We kept in touch since we had been friends first, but it had been awhile since I had heard from her. So I found out he was back because their dad had died, and he had come back to settle the Estate I quickly apologized for not being at the funeral. I had not had time to see the paper in weeks.
  "I had no idea John was sick Lil."
  "He had a heart attack, and was gone, it was the second in a year. We are putting the farm on the market, so naturally I thought of you. Luke told me to handle it, so he doesn't know yet."
  "I'll be glad to handle it Lil. So how long is Luke staying?"
  "Forever I guess, he's taking over the garage."
  "But he hated mechanic work."
  "He hated working with dad. He says he plans on running the garage his way."
  "Oh and his new wife?"
  She laughed and said.
  "What wife? He never married he says you ruined him. Truth is I think he never got over you. He asked about you too."
  "I saw him today. In fact I never realized it was your dad's station he pushed my car into, till now."
  "It's his now. Still driving that lemon?"
  "Yea I guess so. You know me and cars, all I can do is start them and keep them between the lines."
  "Get a new one Katherine. Give me and appointment for tomorrow."
  I penciled her in for eleven and checking my watch I left to go to the garage. He was still working on the car. He pulled out from under the car, looking straight up my legs, then got up, wiping his hand on a rag. "So I'm late! Look honey, I've done all I can do It will run, but that's about it. You'll never make it home, buy a new one and junk this one."
  "You know how salesmen are they'll see me coming a mile away. Fix it."
  "Kat the car is dead, ready for the junk hole. It was a good one when I bought it, but it's had it. If anyone could fix it I can and I can't." I knew he was right. He checked his watch and then said "Gary Purdue runs a decent car lot. Let me clean up and I'll handle the deal for you, if you see something you like, and you'll owe me one."
  I sat in the office area till he finished cleaning up and shucking his coveralls. Then he made a call to Gary and we drove in silence, across town. He always was good on car deals and knew his way around a dealer. He always made good deals. In fact the car that just died, he got for nearly nothing. And it sure had been a good one. After looking at several cars I spotted one I liked, and we test drove it. He put it through the Warner test and satisfied with my choice said "Let's haggle Gary."
  Inside his office he said "What dragged you back in town? You know I hate to see you coming." I enjoyed seeing Luke wheel and deal, he was good. I kept silent and watched as I looked at him. He had gained some weight and was more muscular now. He wore his hair much shorter and had grown a beard. He was still good looking. I guess he would always hold a piece of my heart. I regretted that we hadn't had any kids. That was another thing we argued over. I wanted to save money and go back to school, before starting a family. Luke liked living from paycheck to paycheck. They would have been beautiful kids for sure.
  His voice boomed through my thoughts as he said "That's OK with you isn't it honey?"
  "What? I'm sorry I wasn't listening."
  "I told Gary to knock off another thousand on the maintenance agreement, that I'll take care of that. And I'll give it the tune up it needs."
  "Sure, you're making the deal." I signed the papers and my check and Gary said "How soon did you say you were leaving town? Between you and your old man this town would go under. Sorry to hear about John. Just kidding about that. Glad to see you an went any further and told him I had a busy day ahead of me and we left our separate ways for home.
  I could hardly keep the car on the road because my hands shook so much from the excitement of his touch. I hardly slept at all that night and when I did I dreamed about our past. When the alarm went off I knocked it in the floor trying to shut it off and had to finally get up to shut it off. "Dam it" I cussed and hurried off to the shower to wake up and dress for work.
  I was making coffee when the phone rang and it was Luke reminding me not to forget to bring the car by. I told him I was running late but would be there. In my haste to turn the water off and get on with my quick breakfast, water gushed everywhere, wetting my clothes and the handle was in my hands. Once again I cussed an Luke was yelling "Kat what's that noise?"
  "I'm getting soaked, the faucet broke and water is gushing everywhere, I don't know what to do, it won't go back on. He told me to look under the sink for a shut off valve, and to turn the water off. I put the phone aside out of the way of the water and found what he described and finally shut it off. I tried the handle again but it wouldn't go back on, picking up the phone I said "I still can't get it on, I'm soaked and have to change. I'll be there as soon as I can."
  Hanging up I rushed to my room to find another outfit, a white silk blouse and black skirt and my purple jacket, and a blue lace teddie was all I had clean. I hurried and changed making a mental note to do some laundry when I got home. Finally getting to the station I talked to him briefly and he told me he would call a plumber for me since I was so busy. "One faucet or two?"
  "One with the handle, you know the address?"
  "Lil told me"
  "Tell him Mrs. Wynn next door will let him in, she has the key." When he asked me to pick up the car at noon I asked if he could bring it to the office for me and he agreed and told me to have a good day. I was with a client when he brought the car in and I gave Susan his keys and waved a thank you to him.
  When my day ended and I dragged home it was six 0 clock. I was too tired to do laundry but I must. I had hoped the faucets were done, but could see they weren't. But at least someone was working on them, the tools were laying around on the floor, at least someone was still planning on working on them. I gathered up a load of laundry and started the load. When I came back into the kitchen someone was back under the sink.
  I bent down asking "Almost through?"
  "Almost just a few more minutes." It was Luke, a hand reached around as he felt around asking me to hand him a wrench. I was holding it under the sink as he was groping around in the air, and he latched onto my leg. When he realized he had he jerked his head up and hit it on the drain and said "Dam "and our eyes met.
  I got salad preparations out and asked if he wanted a salad with me. Then asked what happened to the plumber. "They were all busy and I decided to do it myself. You know I don't eat rabbit food. Thanks anyway, but I had a couple of cheeseburgers awhile ago. OK now to turn on the water." He turned the shut off valve back on and checked for leaks and found none. Then he held up the old faucet and showed me, "See you stripped the plastic gears, it wouldn't have worked without a new one. But it's all ready to go now." I thanked him asking what I owed him. He gave me the price of the faucets and said, "My labor is free."
  "I really appreciate it, can I get you something else?
  "I didn't mind I wasn't as busy as the plumbers seemed to be."
  I handed him some bills to pay for the faucets and he opened the fridge and got out a pop. Surprised he didn't hesitate I said, "I don't stock beer anymore."
  ""I stopped drinking a year could go out some night soon?" Refusing to look him in the eye I said "Luke too much water is under the bridge now. We both have gotten on with our lives. I'm sure your new girl wouldn't like it much".
  "There is no new girl."
  "It wouldn't be a good idea, you know how it was with us."
  "Yea I never forgot, no matter how much I tried." He caught me off guard and pulled me in his arms again and kissed me long and hard. I couldn't help but return it although my mind told me I shouldn't. He always done that to me, and it was obvious he hadn't forgot how, as he tantalized me with his lips.
  Separating and looking into each others eyes he said "I've missed you." He kissed me again and then my throat. I had to hold onto his shoulders I was afraid of falling if I didn't. "Luke don't please. Don't." I whispered, but he wasn't listening. He was busy kissing me hungrily again before I could say anything else. I ran my hands through his hair and the old memories flooded my head. And I didn't care that he was unbuttoning my blouse and then my skirt.
  When I was standing there in my lace teddy all I could do was tremble as he stared at me for a minute, before he pushed me back over the table. Groaning he pulled the straps down my shoulders and the teddy down as he kissed my chest till he freed my breasts. Kissing them one by one he jerked the rest of the teddy off. My body trembled from his touch as he moaned. It had been years, two in fact since I had been with someone and I responded even if I knew I shouldn't. After another hasty hungry kiss, he swooped me into his arms and carried me out of the kitchen.
  It became obvious later he had looked around since he seemed to know where the bedroom was, he was going straight to it. He tenderly laid me on the bed and looked at me for a second, then yanked off his clothes. I turned my head slightly embarrassed although I had no cause to be after all I had seen him naked several times.. But I felt embarrassment for that he had control over me, and I wanted him to. When he kneeled over me kissing me hungrily again he parted my legs with his knee, and slowly entered me.
  It wasn't like old times, he was stronger and bigger, and lots more tender. But when he seemed to hurt me, he kissed my lips and whispered "sorry." When it was over much too soon I was disappointed but embarrassed. I pulled away from him and went and showered off. When I came out he was in his pants and smoking laying on the bed. I fastened my robe tighter around me and shook out my damp hair and said. "I need to get my clothes out of the dryer"

'GAMBIT' - a love story in a sci-fi setting

• Elbows resting on the table, chin settling on the cradle of clenched fists. Face now pressed against the toughened glass, peering along the slowly curving corridor in anticipation. A corridor just wide enough for a large metal ball to pass through. Some say it's made of solid gold, but maybe it's just gold plated.
  I pick up the binoculars in front of me and have a look around the table. On a clear day I can see for miles along each length of the delicately arching table, but today visibility is poor, maybe a mile or so. To keep track of the table I've picked out people I use as landmarks. One in particular stands out; he sits half a mile or so to the west. He wears a tall Texan hat and dark sunglasses. Always wears those hat and glasses whatever the weather. He's been here since I took my place four years ago, but he'd already been there two years by then. So says Rebecca, six years 38 days. She's struck up a bit of a rapport with him, well it gives us something to do. We ask him questions and vice versa. All accomplished through an elaborate sign language and binoculars.
  Rebecca. I look over at her now as she combs her long jet-black hair. She smiles her sweet, mellow smile and I find myself reciprocating without realising. Of course she has a family at home like most of us, beavering away to raise the money for her to keep playing. It's a big responsibility to be the one chosen to play the game. If you fail, your family fails and if your family fails to bring money, you fail. The families of those who are playing work for the Elites for a meagre wage, but are treated well as one day they might be Elite. That's the beauty of the system, or so we are told. It is everyone's interest to look after everyone else.
  I received a letter from my wife this morning. She was tending to the garden when her Elite came over and demanded to know why the laundry hadn't been done. My wife apologised but the Elite just flew into a rage, where on my wife reminded her that she shouldn't speak to her that way. The Elite laughed and said, 'Darling, I'll be cold in the ground long before your husband wins the game, if he does at all.' And with that she strode off to the big house, back to her guests.
  Sheewwww... there goes the ball on it's first circuit. It will probably pass another two or three times before it settles, depending on the speed of the launch. I hear I should be performing the launch in the next couple of months. It's quite a privilege to perform the launch. You choose the speed and direction of the ball. It doesn't increase your odds of winning, but it's quite a privilege never the less.
  I've written a letter to my wife, I wrote it months ago, explaining the situation should the unlikely happen. It sat on my desk for a couple of weeks but I've kept it in the drawer since then. It made me uncomfortable having it roost there, with her name staring at me and the address of where she was living in Luneville, and where she would continue to live even if I did win.
  You see, while I've been sitting here waiting and hoping something amazing has happened. Love blossoms in the strangest of places. Sweet Rebecca, dark enchantress of the table, there is nobody else I would rather be with. I watch her hands move in an elegant flowing motion as she signs a message to the Texan. She stops and picks up the binoculars to see his reply.
  Rebecca suggested it. It is not unheard of to make a pact with a fellow player, illegal but not unheard of. My family are a distant memory, but Rebecca is here and now and real. We will go off together, leave our families and live out our lives. We will go down to Monaco, they ask very few questions there as long as you have status.
  Sheewwww......there it goes again, rushing past and on through Lorraine and across the old border to skirt past Saarbrucken. Then across the vast expanses of the Saarland eventually meeting the river Mose and passing Trier to emerge in the Rheinland. Then curving outside the northern border of Luxembourg it moves onto the Ardenne and back across the border, past Sedan then twice over the river Meuse until it returns, just north of Metz where I sit waiting.
  My cubicle vibrates and I turn to see Rebecca banging on the partition. She holds a letter up against the thick glass so that I may read it. It's from her family, not too uncommon, they are struggling for money, don't no how much longer they can go on. We all get those from time to time yet this might be more serious. It seems her brother has run off, fled to the north-lands to escape the game, but there is no escape. I sign to her that he will probably return within the week, she's not so sure.
  The food hatch opens at the back of the cubicle and a meal emerges onto the small dining table flanked by the bathroom cupboard on one side and the z-bed on the other. As I eat I hear the ball zoom by again, it should be stopping soon, and another Elite will be added to the ranks.
  I return to my desk in anticipation of the result. I look over and see Rebecca smiling, she holds up her hands. She has her fingers crossed as usual. I adore the way she still has faith in luck and love, even after all this time. 'Maybe today' I sign and return my gaze to the glass window in front of me.
  Sheeeewww.....darn not this time, you never hear the ball pass a fourth time, but it was going much slower, probably someone in this sector will win. Poor Rebecca, I turn to her but she is holding up her binoculars, she must have thought the same thing. Funny that, how when you are in love, you can anticipate each others thoughts. Now she's jumping up and down excitedly. I bang on the partition. She signs for me to use my binoculars. I lift them and begin scanning along the table. Well I never, it's the Texan. The light above his cubicle is flashing and the door has already opened. Lucky beggar, he's free. Well I suppose I'd prefer him winning rather than a stranger. I'll miss him however, one less familiar face in the crowd.
  The players settle down and the buzzer sounds to insert a Credit for the next spin. I place my coin in the slot and wait for the timer to expire. Ten seconds to spin. Wait! Something is wrong. Rebecca's display is flashing bright red numbers as the time counts down. I bang on the glass and signal for her to put a Credit in the slot. But she just sits there staring at the screen with a Credit in her hand which is hovering over the slot. No!..3...Rebecca!...2.....REBECCA!.....1.
  The Buzzer sounds and the game begins. Tears runs down my checks as I collapse against the glass. Why, why have you done this to yourself. The door at the back of the cubicle opens and a leather clad officer steps into the room to escort her out to her life of servitude. She looks over as she goes and smiles a sweet, loving smile.
  Just as the door closes, through my watering eyes, I catch a glimpse of a tall white Texan hat. The door slams shut and the flap on the food hatch swings angrily back and forth.
  I gather my thoughts and wiping my face with my sleeve, walk over to the desk. I open the drawer and tear up the letter inside. I take a fresh sheet of paper, dip my pen in the ink well and begin writing. 'My dearest darling wife,".
  The End

Have Women Learned Anything About Lovers and Husbands?

I know from bad boys. I grew up on Ocean Avenue in Brooklyn. My cousins were the beautiful ones with black hair and eyes like sharks: so dark so you couldn't tell the pupils from the iris.
I never dated an Italian although my tastes in guys were otherwise what you might call eclectic although, believe me, they've been called worse.
I liked the tougher boys because they offered drama. As a kid, one of my favorite songs was Connie Francis's "Johnny, Get Angry." Connie begs her boyfriend to get angry and get mad, to give her the "biggest lecture" she's ever had. She tells him that she wants a "brave man" and a "cave man," and that by being angry will prove that he "cares, really cares" for her." His anger and her fear of him are seen as "proof" of their love. Conjuring up images of cave men, dragging women around by the hair, the 1950's song is representative of a school of romance that assigns pain as proof of love
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So much for the childhood of a feminist critic, right?
Conjuring up images of cave men, the 1962 song is representative of a school of romance that assigns pain as evidence of love. I'd like to think things have changed. But I don't believe they have.What's my latest evidence?
The exchange I had with an incredibly smart former student, who is now an incredibly accomplished editorial assistant when, I sent her the piece I'd written about Bad Boyfriends.
"Here's my question, doll: do younger women still throw themselves under emotional trains with the same alacrity once exhibited by women of my generation?" I asked. "Or have you all learned better?""We're probably worse," she answered, no doubt texting while talking, something she wasn't permitted to do when she was still in my class; you can hear when they do this even though they think you can't."Tell you the truth, we probably do it faster."
My graduate students who were both part of the conversation, also agreed.
I was astonished.
I was even more astonished that we then instantly started to talk about a book rarely discussed on Ocean Avenue: Bronte's Wuthering Heights. It's still the Bad Boy/Good Boy motherlode.
If Heathcliff represents the raw, a la Levi-Strauss, then Linton represents the cooked. Heathcliff is destined by his very soul to be the Bad Boy; Linton, equally bound by his destiny, is the Good.
In one telling scene, Bronte shows us a very young Cathy dividing her food and attention between a fierce guard dog that has attacked her but is now gently won over to her side, and a small indoor-pet dog that is equally affectionate. It is clear that the dogs represent the two men. (Insert "duh" here.) This becomes especially clear when Cathy pinches the nose of the guard dog to hurt it slightly, but she keeps it by her. So will Cathy and Heathcliff torment each other but be unable to separate. Cathy can articulate quite clearly her attraction to Linton as well as to Heathcliff; some critics seem remarkably surprised by the very idea that she can desire two men simultaneously. She wants one man who can be both lover and husband at the same time.
She doesn't want two men; she wants one man who can meet all her needs. "‘I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free ... and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them!‘" Cathy longs for the prelapsarian moment, the time before her fall into the world of romance, in order to escape from the decision of having to choose between the two
That's what we're really looking for: a Bad Boy who not only offers drama, but who can help us organize our lives.
Good luck to us with this little project. And, ummm, Heathcliff?? You still available? Are you secretly maybe a little bit Italian?