7.
 She was very sweet and kind, and patient. He paid her rent, and they made an arrangement. She was respectful of his personal life, and volunteered—without being asked—to be discreet at all times. They'd see each other every Monday and Thursday morning from nine to noon. That was when he had sales calls in her area. The money meant little to him. He had his Vegas stash, but also he started working a little extra harder to make up the amount he gave her. It was a seamless arrangement.
The flip side was, as she said: "Never come over without calling first. It's the super, you know, I don't want him to, well, you know..."
His sales manager said, "Bill, you're going to set new records here."
"I gotta keep you on your toes," Bill rejoined.
Laurissa, Bill discovered, was not as passionate as he had expected. This confused him. He swam with her, showered with her, made love with her, and it wasn't quite what he'd expected. Her firm long body made him ache with desire; his spirit was willing, but his aching hip and stiff muscles were weak. She seemed not to mind. Physically, it got almost boring except for minute things like exploring her nipples with his tongue, thing she could still do with the same aplomb as a young cocksman. And of course they always used a rubber. Safe sex was in.
Phoebe said: "You must be manic, darling. One minute you're singing in the shower, the next minute you're moping around the kitchen."
Bill grabbed her rear, forced her against the kitchen counter, and nibbled on her ear.
"Oh my," she said. She surprised him, taking him by the tie and towing him to the bedroom. No trophy. They made love, and Bill performed like a champ. Phoebe had not looked happier inures. "You wild man," she said.
Bill felt on top of his game. He was getting—like the guys said—a little extra on the side, for the first time in his life. He and Laurissa could call it off any time if things got out of hand. He was learning how to be a stud again, and he was even doing better at cards because he had new courage to bluff and new fortitude to stand or fold with clear vision.
One day, as he sat by the pool with an iced cola, the phone rang in the apartment. Laurissa rushed to answer, and had a muffled, excited, emotional conversation that sounded as if it could only be with some young boyfriend. Now why had he forgotten that she was a young woman with a life of her own? Nevertheless, he felt a seething ball of jealous rage in his gut. At that moment, he realized he'd begun to fall in love with Laurissa. That meant the situation was no longer under his control.
Inwardly, Bill became a nervous wreck. He loved his wife, his home, his corner where he could read the paper. His sons would be angry at him. But he was falling in love with Laurissa. She was awakening things inside of him that had lain fallow for much of his adult life. He remembered being young. Suddenly, he remembered the smell of sunshine—there really was such a thing, and it smelled a lot like her hair when wet from the pool.
He knew again the music of falling water, the symphony of every moment being alive. At the same time too, he knew Laurissa was young. A week or two in her time scale might be like a year in his. Laurissa was there, grateful that he could keep her in her apartment, happy for the time they spent together until she got on her feet financially. Or, if she showed no more inclination than for clerical work, perhaps he should marry her. Yes, he should get off the fence and marry her.
On this subject, when he hinted around about it, Laurissa remained astonishingly silent. She drank in with her large eyes every concept his words shaped in the air before her. She nodded at the wisdom. She needed his guidance, it was obvious. After all, he was almost twice her age. She looked up to his wisdom. And, though oddly Phoebe was the more passionate of the two women in Bill's life, Laurissa was young and beautiful. It was said that a woman did not come into her own sexually until she was past thirty, maybe even forty. Her fine young body, in any case, was ever a delight in Bill's hands and eyes.
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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