Charley (14 page)

Randle had been silent all this time. He finally spoke up. ‘Sweetie, I wish there were some other way!’ By now he had started crying as he spoke through his tears. ‘I love you so much, but I would rather die than see any harm come to you.’

I pleaded with him. ‘Can’t you just stop being Martin’s accountant? I mean, just tell him you have a family and you don’t want to harm your wife. Surely he’ll understand?’

By now, I was crying and pleading. ‘Please just quit Randle, please.’

Randle was crying too. ‘Honey, I can’t.  I know too much. If I quit now Martin would have me killed. This is the safest way for you, I swear.’”

I took a swig of beer and continued relaying the story. PJ was sitting up and was now perched on the front edge of the recliner. “I resisted the plan, but in the end it happened just as Jimmy had planned. I divorced Randle, moved into this condo and continued seeing him secretly until the day he died. When we divorced, I took back my maiden name, Howard. But I was always Randle’s wife, and he was my husband regardless of the divorce. It was a sham, a total sham!”

PJ couldn’t resist asking the obvious question. “So, how did Randle die?”

This was the worst part of the story to tell PJ. “One morning, Jimmy went out to get the newspaper and found Randle on the doorstep with a bullet in his brain. Attached was a note.
Martin, you can’t protect your own. Watch your back, you’re next.
Damn them all to Hell! Randle was merely killed as a warning! It was so senseless. A stupid and senseless warning! That was a year after our divorce. I was twenty-six and Randle had just turned thirty.”

I was now emotionally drained. I tried to hold back the tears but they came anyway. “We were so young and I loved him so much.”

PJ moved over to the deck chair and knelt in front of me. “I had no idea, I’m so sorry!”

He bent over and stretched his long arms out to hug me. I guess I took him by surprise when I stood up and pressed myself tightly to his body. “PJ, I built a wall around me all these years. You commented no one at church called me Charley … that’s because no one really knows me except for my work in the community, and the Bar of course. If it hadn’t been for the Bar, I would have fallen to pieces. Instead, now I’m married to it. I haven’t had anyone to really know me, or love me, since Randle … until you came along. You’ve been everything I hoped you would be. I hate to be so needy, but I need you. You’ve been the only one I can be totally honest with.”

PJ hugged me tenderly. “Charley, I’m really so sorry for all your losses. There is definitely someone out there for you. You deserve the best. Better than me, certainly. I’m just a jock.”

“But I need you … I think I could love you,” I whispered through a small sniffle. “You’ve been the best thing to happen to me.”

I pulled his face close to mine and cried out. “I need you … I need you to make love to me. Please, make tender sweet love to me as if I were your wife. Treat me to some tender lovemaking. I haven’t been truly loved since Randle.”

As I painfully told my story, in a corner of my mind I knew I had suffered a different kind of pain. I realized why I missed Randle desperately. Our attraction had been based on love and not sex. I missed true love so much. I had closed out all possibilities of ever loving anyone who might hurt me again. But unfortunately, this kept out anyone who might give me what I needed most; unconditional love. Over the years, I had substituted hard work for emotional intimacy, and it just was not worth it. I missed the tender lovemaking with Randle.

I remembered what PJ had said about himself in the privacy booth. I knew it now by heart. ‘I can promise you, I am better in bed with someone I know and care for, than with someone I have no connection to. Let’s wait until we get to know each other better.’

God, that’s what I need. I need to be loved by someone who cares about me. I just hoped and prayed that PJ cared for me. I needed lovemaking now from PJ, not sex.

I meant it when I begged him to make love to me. I needed something different from what we had done the previous night, or even this morning, as good as it was. I needed to be loved. I knew that I needed someone to be kind and gentle, and make real love with me. I wanted to be treated like a complete person, with feelings and needs, and not just a receptacle for sex. I wanted PJ to love me for love’s sake. And I was ready to do the same for him.

When I asked him to make love to me, and stood up to press tightly against his body, I knew he might not understand. I needed more than pleasure, I needed love.

PJ looked at me and smiled.

He understands!

I wanted to please PJ as much as I wanted him to please me. That is what love is all about.

Even though I had begged him to make love to me, once I felt him slide his strong arm under my arm, and slip the other under my knees, I still felt that warm tingling of anticipation rushing through my body. He pulled me to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled my face to his sweaty chest. I snuggled comfortably into him, smelling the sweet intoxicating and musky aroma of his sweaty body. I looked into his eyes and saw love
and
passion from those big hazel eyes. I felt physically and emotionally safe in his strong arms. I relaxed; I didn’t feel the need to be in control.

This is where I belong.

PJ’s compassion had been obvious in his face and his eyes. Even though he didn’t say anything, I was certain he was touched by my story. I made the right decision to tell him everything. 

My free hand went to his face and pulled it to my eager lips. He responded; our kiss was tender and passionate. After the brief kiss, I eased away from his mouth and nestled into his chest satisfied to smell his sweetness. I could get drunk on the feeling of peace and security his arms represented.

He carried me to my bed and laid my naked body gently on the cool satin sheets. I know it sounds melodramatic and foolish, but I felt the eager anticipation of a virgin receiving a man for the first time.  I smiled an innocent smile and blew an air kiss that screamed,
‘I want you.’
He will be gone tomorrow. Do I want more than good sex with him? Can I have more? Do I have the right to expect more?

I couldn’t help but remember a Bible verse about marriage. ‘
Wives — submit yourselves to your husbands
.’ It seemed so right to submit to PJ, husband or not.

PJ was everything I wanted him to be. His touch was gentle, his kisses were passionate, his hands knew how to give me the loving pleasure I desired. We fit so perfectly together. His timing was flawless. 

We were enjoying each other when suddenly something happened; something awful, something painful; not a sexual pain, but an intense wounded pain. I screamed in misery and reached to my crotch. Tears welled up. Something must have happened to PJ as well.

“Damn!” he shouted.

He withdrew quickly. I could see him bite his lip to avoid screaming out again. His face was contorted in obvious torment. “I’m so sorry sweetheart. I just can’t continue the way we want to. I’m just not healed up yet. I’m so sorry. I know you wanted this so much, but, honestly, I just can’t. I am really so sorry.”

There was a silence for a moment but I had to say it. “To tell you the truth PJ, I can’t go on either. This cut is killing me. I put some salve on it but … well … as much as I want you now, I can’t go on either! Why don’t we just stay in bed and love on each other and talk? Might be fun?”

So, we spent the afternoon in bed, enjoying each other. PJ found sensitive parts of my body that even I didn’t know about.  I surprised him when we were fooling around. I think he was teasing the inside of my thighs, when my body twitched and I tightened my thighs, and had a mini-orgasm. I couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his face. “How about that then Phillip Jefferson? You’re the best.”

After a minute, he snickered. “I want one of those too.”

And we both laughed uncontrollably. I tried to bring him to a climax or even just to an erection, but he just couldn’t do it. But … it was fun trying!

In addition to messing around, we did something lovers seldom do. We talked on and on to each other, continuing the conversations we started earlier on the deck. Between the deep kisses, and the arousing caresses, we learned more about each other than most couples learn during years of being together.

As we lay back on the bed, relaxed from the play time, PJ rolled over on his side and announced. “This morning, I woke up early and just studied you and your body. You know you’re so beautiful, don’t you?”

“Well, that’s what you keep saying. And I love it.”

“I was just amazed at your natural beauty. You were on your back, and one arm was under your head and the other was on your stomach. Your breasts were relaxed, flat against your chest and both were rising and falling, in time to your breathing. I was surprised to see you were tanned all over …no tan lines?”

“One of the benefits of having a private deck … plus a little time in the tanning booth.”

“Well you were gorgeous, no make-up, your hair falling around you, and a little smattering of freckles on your chest. Damn it Charley, you really are so beautiful.”

I almost cried. No one had said that to me in years. I loved it and I needed it.

He continued nicely with the same theme. “There is something I wanted to do this morning, but I was afraid I would wake you.” I reached for his head, and gently ran my fingers through his short hair.

“I’m awake now.” He slowly leaned over my naked body, rested his head on my stomach and began to lightly stroke my upper legs. “You don’t have to wake me to do that. I’ll just pretend to be asleep, as long as you do that.”

PJ continued as he asked another question. He didn’t look at me when he asked, but continued his loving strokes. “Charley, why do you choose to be a brunette? Your eyebrows are light brown, but your eyes are a deep blue. The hair on your arms is light, and your other hair down there all indicates you’re really a natural blond. Why the change in hair color? I think if you let your hair go natural, you’d be even more stunning than you are now.”

I didn’t expect this question, and I was not prepared to answer. My heart skipped a beat because I knew a truthful answer would not be what PJ expected, nor would he like to hear it. So I offered up a logical, but untruthful cover answer. “It’s brown, because in business in this town blondes aren’t taken seriously. I have a business to run, and I can’t afford to have any road blocks.”

There was a long pause. PJ seemed to accept my answer, and he continued loving on me, but I couldn’t stand not telling him the truth. If I had to do it over again, I wouldn’t have opened my mouth about it, at least, not until we’d known each other better. But I’m not much on keeping secrets. “That’s not the real reason, PJ …

“Oh?” PJ looked up the length of my body, and raised his eyebrows.

“Randle likes it this way,” I whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear me clearly.

I knew what I had said would be hurtful, but consciously I couldn’t stop myself. PJ apparently noticed immediately that I had said ‘likes’ instead of ‘liked’. His eyes gave him away. I hoped it wouldn’t affect us. But I knew in my heart, it would.

Trying to change the subject, I rolled away from PJ and suggested. “Why don’t we get up and get something to eat? I can reheat the pizza. If you’ll get us another beer, I’ll meet you back on the patio”.

“Are you sure?” He sounded relieved.

“I think we’d better.”

“Okay, I’ll get the drinks.”

A summer breeze was blowing in from the hills, enough to stir the air, but not cool the temperature dramatically. It was still a warm July summer night. The temperature was not unbearable, but it was warm enough for PJ to ask. “Do you think we need to put our clothes back on? It’s awfully warm out here.”

“I don’t see any need, unless, of course, you can’t handle the idea of a sexy woman by your side,” I replied with a wink and a sexy smile. Between bites of vegetarian pizza, I asked. “Have you always been involved with sports? Would you ever want to do something else besides coaching?”

After thinking a minute, PJ responded. “No. I love sports. I love watching all sports, I loved playing and I love coaching. If I had to do anything else, I think I would be miserable the whole time.”

That was what I expected him to say. But my heart hoped for a different answer.

Toward the end of the evening, PJ asked a question. “Charley, I’ve been thinking about this most of the day. It involves Randle. Would it be okay to ask about him?”

The way PJ started off made me think maybe I shouldn’t let him ask his question, but that would be stupid. “Sure, go ahead,” I replied with more than a little reluctance.

“Well, Randle is such a part of you and your life. You seem to think about him a lot. Even the Bar is a daily reminder of him. Your stories are all about him. Last night, while we were walking back to the Bar you mentioned him. Did Wilma tell you that you collapsed on the dock, after having imaginary sex with him?”

“Yes, Wilma told me. Yes, I do think of him often.” I should have expected this question, and I wasn’t sure where PJ was going, but I had an uneasy feeling.

“Do you think you could ever put Randle aside, not forget him of course, but allow yourself to love someone else? Do you think anyone else could ever be number one in your life?”

Damn. The one question I wish he hadn’t asked.

“I don’t know, I just don’t know,” I answered, after thinking hard about the question. “Randle was my first real love and first loves are hard to forget. We spent a lot of time together. We made plans together. PJ, I just don’t know.” I didn’t want to discourage PJ, but I had to be honest. I continued. “Would it affect you if I did think about Randle?”

I immediately knew how unrealistic that response was. PJ is a man, and men are so competitive. Of course, it would matter to him, really matter.