[March 2002 Dulles International Airport.]              

HEATHER

It took about twenty minutes for the shock to wear off.  And for me to be able to get handle on the rising bubble of hysterical laughter that was threatening to well up and burst forth.  Good thing.  I wasn't exactly sure how it would come out.  That kind of laughter that can so easily turn into hitching sobs if you're not careful. 

Emotional overload.

I was already raw over what had happened between Dino and I last night.  We had gone into this place with each other that we really never had before and it was new and scary and we were still both sort of reeling from it, so careful with each other.  It is our way.  We are always close, as we were this morning, in the wake of such extreme emotional vulnerability.  We are fragile and we know it.  It's a bit like protecting wet cement.  It will eventually become another layer to the foundation of our relationship and make us stronger, but it must be protected while it is still new and vulnerable.

It was hard to let him go this morning.  Harder still to have Lachlan walk into the middle of it.  At first, it was all I could do to keep my composure.  I admit it.  Part of me was deeply hurt that he didn't remember something I have cherished inside my secret heart for years.  Another, smarter, part of me was glad that he hadn't remembered.  This morning would have been so much more awkward if he had.  I wouldn't wish for Dino to have to witness that any more than I would want to be around the girl he lost his virginity with.

And I could just kiss Terry.  I made a ninny of myself when I first met him, but it saved me here.  If I hadn't have had that awkward moment play out with him that night, I would have been much less prepared to deal with it now.  I was kind of proud of myself for that.  I'm not exactly the sort who usually has grace under pressure and even though part of me was really hurting that Lach's memories of me had faded to nothing, part of me was sort of cheering that I'd managed to keep my shit together and not blurt out, "Lachlan!" like I did when I first met Terry. 

I sighed and checked again on Andy.  He'd insisted on staying with his nose pressed against the glass until he couldn't see the plane any longer.  It was still a pretty big speck in the sky so I sat down to wait a while, rubbing at my temples.  This morning wouldn't have been nearly as bad if Dino and Terry hadn't witnessed it. 

I knew instantly what they thought.  I'm not as naïve as Dino thinks I am.  I know he's aware there was more behind the Lachlan story than what I told him about Lach just being someone I met while on holiday in Oz.  I saw it in his face this morning.  He did not like the reminder that one man's wife - his wife - was another man's casual sex partner. 

Not that what we had was casual in that sense... it wasn't for me, anyway.  Lachlan is the only other man I have ever slept with.  But I know men like to compartmentalize women.  And men, especially men like Dino, have a hard time when those edges become blurred. 

He still carries such a strong residual imprint of his old Heather.  To him, even now after a year of marriage and some truly wild sexual adventures, he still has this vision of us as this pure, innocent thing that needs to be sheltered from the world.  I love that he wants to shelter me and be the rock that breaks the brunt of life's storms, the one who keeps me safe from all things... but it blinds him too.  I know it does.

I wanted what happened as much as Lachlan did.  But Dino can't see me that way so he automatically assumes the worst of Lachlan.  And that fact that he didn't remember me would only support Dino's theory.  It was all just such a mess.

Still, in all of that- I knew it wasn't insurmountable.  Really.  It was awkward but hardly a mortal blow.  Not to our relationship and certainly not to me.  I made my peace with what happened years ago.  And though this odd Family was more complicated than most, we were hardly the first couple to ever have a brush with an old flame.  Even if I did still feel that electricity and even if seeing Lachlan brought back a flood of memories from a time when my life had been so much different... it was still Dino that I loved. 

It was his touch I still felt lingering under my dress.  His taste I had on my lips.  His ring on my finger and his hands that held my heart.  I thought of him and smiled.  He had stayed with me until the last possible moment.  Not because of Lachlan.  It had taken us all of seven words to move beyond that when he joined us by the glass.

He said, "Are you OK?"

I nodded, moved into his embrace and whispered, "You're always first, Dean."

Of course, I know it won't be the last time we ever discuss it.  And I know that our simple exchange could hardly lay all the old ghosts to rest, but on the heels of last night, it was enough.  And, God, was it hard to let him go this morning.

Andy turned to me and I saw that Dino's plane was now just a tiny speck in the sky.  His mouth turned into a little pout.  "Daddy's gone."

"I know he is.... it's pretty rotten to be left behind, isn't it?"  Sometimes, the truth really was the best and only thing you could say.  He nodded and reached up to me for a hug.  I needed one too.  "We'll have fun while he's gone though.  And he said maybe if things go well we can come see him in Amsterdam next Friday."  He gave me that questioning little boy look.  "Seven fingers."  That's how we counted the days till he got back.  One finger for each day. 

"That's a lot."  He pouted a little and pushed at me.  I put him down and we were walking out when I spotted Lachlan at a table over in the corner.  He looked so different from the man I remembered.  And so much the same, too.  He hadn't seen us and I turned my face away, trying to get out of there without being noticed but I didn't have a good enough hold on Andy's hand and when he saw Lachlan he broke from me and scampered over to him shouting, "Uncle Lochie!  Uncle Lochie!" 

I think I almost cried.  I just wanted to go home.  He took Andy by the hand to lead him back and we met in the middle of this sea of early morning diners.  People reading the paper.  Drinking coffee.  Eating.  My stomach growled at the smell of the food and Lachlan gave me one of his charming smiles and asked us if we wanted to join him for breakfast. 

Damn it.  Damn it!  DAMN IT!  I just wanted to go home but there was no way out of this without appearing horribly rude.  Dino would hate that I had breakfast with him, even if we were family.  I felt like I was tempting fate.  Like too long in each other's company and I might do or say something that would spark a memory for him.  Just being in his presence was enough to bring them flooding back for me.  And the only thing worse than this situation would be for him to remember that night and then I'd have to explain how come I held my tongue.

He cocked his head at me while he let Andy play with his pilot's cap.  "Seeing as how you both are still here, nothing wrong with Family sharing a cuppa, now is there?"  He smiled again and his eyes crinkled at the corners.  I hesitated.  If I stayed, he might remember.  If I didn't, he'd know something was off and that might make him remember.  "Come on, love.  I don't bite..... much." 

Yes, he did.  And I remembered every last one of them.  

Andy piped up that he was hungry.  I just gave in with a little nod.  I could keep this up a little while longer, couldn't I?  Lach just laughed and sort of herded us to the table.  Andy had pancakes.  Lach had tea.  I had coffee and wished it was a mimosa.  The conversation was pleasant enough.  He was as charming as I remembered.  Happier.  That made me smile.  He also had been in the Family so much longer than Dino and had such good stories to tell about them all.  The only one of them I'd ever met was Terry. 

Andy ate.  We chatted.  He showed me pictures of his boys.  God, were they cute.  I thought about that night we spent together so long ago.  I had been so lucky.  We hadn't used anything.  After I got back to the states, I remember locking myself in the bathroom and crying with relief- and a touch of sadness too- when I got my period.  It was a strange thing to think on.  If we'd had a child, it would be nearly nine now.

I tried to silence my internal monologue and listen to what he was saying.  He was talking about the Family's farm back home in Oz.  How beautiful the land was there.  He gave me a look.  "You ever been to Oz, love?  It's bloody gorgeous."

God forgive me, I did the only thing I could.  I looked him straight in the eye and lied. 

[April 2002 Home]             

DINO

For as wound up as I'd been that morning at the airport, the best thing for me had been time... time and those letters from home I love so much.  Sure, the situation still pissed me off.  Sure, I still wanted to plant one in Curry's kidneys.... but all things look better with time and distance. 

I still hated that he'd treated her like a throw away fuck.  But it wasn't the sex that was the real sticking point for me.  It was that a man- any man, really- hadn't recognized that she was special.  That she was someone who should be treated with respect and protected above all things.  That he couldn't see that made him a grade A doomhazel in my book.  But with all this Pull shit we have to worry about, I kind of know I lucked out there.  I have a right to be concerned, but with a few weeks distance from that morning and a whole lot of talking with my wife, what we have is stronger than ever.

It's that thing that happens when you weather something kind of rough together, you know?  She was absolutely straight up with me about what happened after I left that morning.  Coffee with Curry in front of about a hundred witnesses.  For as much as I hated the idea of them together, I am not so insecure I can't accept a shared meal.  It was hardly the stuff of clandestine meetings.  And to be fair, I kinda figured it might happen. 

Even though in the grand scheme of things, a brush with an old flame wasn't that big a deal, it was pretty rough at first.  Especially after I got an email from the little punk at the movie rental place by our house.  I'd forgotten that when I first figured out where that gold button keepsake she had came from that I'd paid the kid at our corner movie store a hundred bucks to email me if 'For the Moment' was ever rented on our account. 

It was a pretty shitty thing to do, but yeah, I did it.  So, there I was sitting in this crap hotel in Munich... when I get this email.  To Terry's credit, he didn't even bat an eye when we checked out and he saw the damage charge on the bill.  Yeah, I broke a chair.  It was immensely satisfying.  I admit it.  Of course, I felt like a fool afterwards... both for breaking the chair in a moment of blind rage and for being so wound up over it all back then that I'd actually paid someone to keep me appraised of her movie viewing habits. 

I trusted my wife, you know?  And when I got that email, even though it pissed me off, it was kind of like this wake up call.  An illustration of how much our relationship had grown since I'd paid that kid.  It's amazing how much can change in a year and I was ashamed I'd done something so... well... petty.  It made me feel pretty small.  Over some scotch a few nights after I got the email, Terry pointed out that it wasn't that big a leap, really.  She runs into someone she hasn't seen in nearly a decade- he doesn't remember her- and she's got a way to find out a little bit about his life in a way that isn't intrusive. 

I fucking hate it when the old man is so logical when I am on a rant.  We commiserated over women and their need to know every last goddamn detail.  Why do they do that?  Why can't they be more like men and just close the door on it and never look back?  It was a fun night.  We got smashed and bitched about our women.  And then promptly went back to the hotel- fell into our cold lonely beds and wished like fuck those same women were there to hold us. 

That wasn't the last shock in store for me, however.  About a month later, I was watching Andy one afternoon while Heather was out when I realized things where too quiet.  I'd learned that one fast.  He's always up to no good when things get that quiet.  I thought he was playing in his room.  I found him in the garage surrounded by junk from the old house.  It had spilled out of a box he'd overturned.  He was scribbling with a yellow highlighter in the pages of a book.  Jesus.  It was all over his face and hands too.  Shit.  Heather was going to have my ass for that.

But hey, I'm good under pressure.  I had him washed, redressed and put down for his nap in under 15 minutes.  Back out in the garage, I was lamenting over how the little fucker had poured his grape juice in my toolbox while I started throwing the shit he'd scattered back into the box.  I bent to pick up the book he'd been scribbling in.  Gave it a quick damage check.  Fuck.  FUCK!  It was one of her old journals.  I should have just put it away.  I know I should have... but when I flipped through it to see how bad he'd marked it up, Lachlan's name just jumped out at me.

I should have closed it.  Should have... but didn't.  Not with all the answers to every damned question I wanted an answer to within my grasp.  You fucking know I read it. 

The room was small and dark.  The bedspread was scratchy.  An old uniform jacket rested over the back of a chair.   

I fucking thought as much.  It didn't paint a very nice picture.  I tried to block out the memories of all the times I'd been with a woman in a room like that.  I took a deep breath and read on. 

I knew what was waiting for me at home.  I felt it-- like God had whispered a stone into my heart when I heard the news.  I think I always knew she would never get any better.  My childhood was over.  Whatever innocence I had left was about to be swallowed by the rudeness of life... and so I gave it away instead of letting it be crushed like a broken flower under life's boot heel.  I would leave it here, in Oz, with the last of my dreams. 

With Lachlan.

Oh, honey.  My heart ached for her.  Righteous anger churned in my guts towards him.  He didn't remember taking her virginity?  I wanted to hit him.  To see his blood on my knuckles.  To make him bleed like he had made her bleed.    

The blush that stained my cheeks grew darker as he braced his hands on either side of my head and began to move harder, taking a wholly masculine enjoyment in the little wince I couldn't help but make when he pushed sharply upwards and forward at the end of each thrust.  Making my body take every last bit of his.  He knew I wanted it.  The tiny hands knotted at the small of his back told him so.     

I grimaced and forced myself to read the rest of it.  

A night with no barriers and no walls.  We spoke about a hundred things, laying there on the tangled sheets.  Serious things.  War and love and loss.  Scotty.  Zeke.  Lil.  My mother.  Dean. 

Dean.  Jesus.  I felt sick.  Like when you're not sure whether you want to run full out or stand stock still, like the fucking world is spinning around you.  Some goddamn ride you can't get off of.

I left a note.  Three little words.  No, not 'I love you'.  Love fades over time.  Memory doesn't.  I scrawled my heart onto a slip of paper and tucked it into his fist.  Three little words. 

I won't forget.

This was just so.... fuck.  This was a hundred times worse than I ever imagined it to be.  This wasn't a cheap fuck.  Not for her.  She wouldn't give it up like that, anyway... I've always known that.  I ran a hand over my face.  I was just stunned.  Wishing I'd trusted her enough not to need to know the answers.  Wishing like fuck I'd never read this. 

I heard a sound.  It cut through my fog and instinct took over.  I snapped the journal shut as the side door to the garage opened and she bounced in with a smile and a bag of groceries.  Her grin faded as she took in the scene... the shit from the box scattered all around me and the book in my hands.  Our eyes met. 

I could see the pulse beating rapidly in the delicate hollow of her throat.  There was this long, ugly silence and then finally... "Did you read that?"

I shouldn't have done it.  But I did.  Been doing a lot of that today.  I looked her straight in the eye and lied through my teeth.  "No." 

It was the first time I'd ever lied to her.  And man, was it a big one.  Her eyes narrowed.  I knew I was lying.  She knew I was lying.  Or at least she suspected.  I'm good at it though.  I use words for a living.  The best lies are the simple ones.  The ones with a ring of truth.  I explained about Andy.  Pointed out the grape juice in my toolbox.  Had to give up that shit about the highlighter... how he had it all over himself and that I'd found him coloring in her stuff... how I'd bathed him and now I was just out here picking up while the little dirtbag slept off his sugar high.

I needed her to believe me on this.  I needed it.  In my own head, that was where I drew the line with all this Lachlan shit.  I couldn't change the past.  I could, however, make a leap of faith now.  The leap of faith I should have made before.  I trusted her.  I did.  So she fucked him once.  So she saw his film while I was away.  She'd never once given me a reason to mistrust her.  Not once.  I was ready to close the door on this; to move on- to move ahead.  I ignored that little voice that said all this shit wouldn't just disappear.  Out of sight out of mind.... but only until the next time. 

Fuck it, then.  I was ready to shelve it until the next time.  Maybe the next time would never come.  Pretty naive thinking for someone as jaded as I am, but every man has his breaking point and I'd reached mine.  This was a chasm I couldn't cross without a leap of faith.  And I was going to fucking well make the jump, right here, right now.

I held the book out to her.  She held my eyes.  God, so much hope in hers.  "Tell me you didn't read this."  She needed to believe as badly as I did.

I steeled myself and let the words come.  "I didn't read it."  She nodded with tears in her eyes.  I kissed her, long and slow and deep.  Hand in hand, we sailed over that chasm together and never looked back.

[May 2002  Home]

DINO

We don't make love like this often.  It's too intense to be an everyday expression of how we feel, but it is as close as we can physically come to what we are to each other in our personal, private moments.  It never starts the same.  We never plan to love this way.  It doesn't happen simply when I want it or when she wants it, but on those rare occasions when what she feels and what I feel somehow seem to happen in perfect synchronicity.  And when we have the time and privacy to share that feeling in the most intimate way possible.

It always starts slow.  Long after our child is asleep, after the sun has set and we are together in the darkness.  On those special nights, we have usually been feeling the desire for this building for a couple of days.  Moments where a randomly exchanged look could suddenly scorch iron to ashes.  Where the most simple caress can make her tremble.  Where just catching her scent lingering in a room can make me hard.  The anticipation only makes it that much sweeter.   

We feel the desire to join that way through everything, from the everyday mundane things to the most intimate.  A heated glance met while I am busy at my laptop and she is cooking.  A glancing touch as our fingers meet when she brings me a beer while I'm working in the yard.  It's even there when we're stealing those quick moments of love all busy parents do; a hurried bout of afternoon lovemaking in the laundry room while our child naps or when I catch her somewhere private like the pantry or the closet, press her to the wall and bring her off with my fingers or when she sucks me off with a sparkle in her eye and leaves me weak-kneed and panting in the shower before work- even then, we're looking at each other with the knowledge that we're only tiding ourselves over until we can set all our responsibilities aside and revel in the heart of what we are to each other.

It starts so softly.  Just the whisper of a touch over sensitive flesh.  The feel of warm breath on naked skin.  We lay together quietly under the covers and touch and kiss like teenagers, on our sides with our legs tangled together.  We don't talk... we only touch.  Everywhere.  I remind myself what her hair feels like between my fingers.  What it's like to trace her eyebrows with my fingertips.  To brush my thumb over her lips.  To feel her pulse beat in the vulnerable hollow of her throat.  To feel her muscles move under her skin.  To feel the calluses on her palms.  To explore the smooth-hard feel of her fingernails.  To rub the sensitive pads of our fingertips together.  To feel her nipple contract into a pebble against my palm.  To feel her heart beating against mine.     

We hold hands.  We rock together slowly.  We breathe together.  I put my hand on her side, pull her into me and caress that gorgeous backside of hers while she takes her time touching me.  She always starts with my hair, her little fingers at my nape, stroking and petting.  She touches my jaw.  My Adam's apple.  Traces the lines in my face.  Brushes that shivery spot behind my ear.  Touches my tattoo.  Rubs her palms on the soft hairs on my forearms and her fingertips over the thicker hair under my arm.  Our mouths are never more than a few inches from each other and we don't break eye contact except when we can't resist trailing kisses down each other's neck. 

By the time her little fingers get to my chest, we need more.  I lift her leg up over my hip and hold her eyes while I push in so slow.  I am exquisitely gentle because I know we soon won't be and I want to savor that feeling; the tenderness and the physical sensation of putting the most sensitive, vulnerable part of my body inside hers.  It makes me feel powerful. 

And humble.    

Still on our sides, I pull her into me and hold her tight against my body, hilted as deeply as she can take me, my hand spread wide, gripping the curve of her butt firmly.  Her hand is tight on me too, pressed flat at the base of my spine.  For a long moment we just feel each other like that, feel each other's heart beating in two places and then this amazing thing starts to happen between us. 

She begins to flutter along my length.  Our breathing starts to change.  I wait until I feel the pressure of her hand on my back become stronger as she tries to get closer to me still, and then, when she's already at the limit of what she can take, I push in deeper and grind slow and hard, stretching the delicate boundary of what she can comfortably accept from me. 

It is a kind of sex that will make us both sore tomorrow, but it's not a raw wild pounding.  It's deeper than that.  More intense.  We hardly move.  It's more like rocking.  I think as close as we are in those moments, I couldn't pull out to thrust wildly if I wanted to.  It would hurt too much emotionally to be separated from her just then.  I need to feel her whole body pressed to mine.   

I withdraw barely an inch and then push back in past where she's comfortable taking me just as she tilts her hips in a way that makes her so open to me.  So much love in that one act.  So much trust.  It isn't something you can sustain.  It's like touching your hand to a hot stove for just a second- to where you feel the wild heat but you pull back before it can seriously burn you. 

Just like that, in the darkness, breathing each other's breath, we help each other touch that searing heat again and again and again.  The mouth of her womb kisses the tip of my cock.  The friction is exquisitely intense.  She's not as strong as I am and her arm begins to shake with the strain of holding me that tightly.... but as we near the end, I succumb too until we are shaking together.

We grind against each other so hard, trembling with the effort we've expended to hold each other so close this way.  Our bodies, slick with sweat.  Our legs slide wetly together and the rasp of the hair crushed between our groins is audible above the soft creak of the bed.  Our breath comes in pants, punctuated by these low little grunts when we close that final inch and our bodies are at the absolute limit of what they can give each other. 

The little spikes of pain only make us both more sensitive to the pleasure when it finally breaks over us.  There is almost no need to move.  Both our hands are gripping so tightly there will be bruises tomorrow as we close that small gap one last time and hold fast.  Where we are joined, as sensitive as our engorged flesh is, our heartbeats alone are enough to push each other over.  Our rocking stills and we cling together, helpless and vulnerable.  Her walls contract around me and I shudder into her as we share this feeling that is beyond words.   

It's almost more than either of us can stand and yet we somehow make it through the fire and we lay there, panting and weak with wet eyes and full hearts.  She almost can't move and I am little better.  It is like sharing one orgasm.  One consciousness.  One body.  One spirit.  To have her pulled from me then would be like tearing out my own heart.  I cannot let her go.  Between us, we share her little aftershocks and the warm balm of my come, easing our tender flesh. 

Slowly, so slowly, our heartbeats and breathing slow and again become two separate and distinct rhythms.  We share the feeling as I soften and slide from her body on a river of starlight.  I help move her so the tender bruised flesh of her sex rests protectively just above my pubic hair and my soft wet cock nestles on her inner thigh, safe in the cradle of her hips. 

We breathe together slowly, surrounded by the intoxicating scent of our lovemaking.  It is almost too much effort but I somehow manage to adjust the covers back up over our bodies as the sweat cools on our flesh and we begin to shiver.  I press my lips to her throat and mouth the words, I love you.  I feel her smile against my temple as she traces those three little words onto my skin with her fingertip.  Neither of us have the energy for more.  Sleep will come very soon and the morning will be here far before we are ready to greet it. 

Both of us have been independent too long to want to cling so closely to each other all night, but on nights when we make love this way, we fall asleep wrapped around each other.  I think on these nights, more than any other, we truly do make love; make our love stronger with each breath, with each touch; a blending of spirit as much as body.  It is these nights were we find sanctuary in each other that hold me over when I am on the other side of the world, asleep alone in some strange hotel bed.  In my mind, I am here, wrapped around her just as I am now.  Safe.  Loved. 

My last thoughts are about the morning.  How I know just how tomorrow will play out in the wake of what passed between us this night.  She will be slow, stiff and sore and I will be raw and tender.  We will get up early so we can have time alone together to wash each other gently in the shower.  She'll have that cute little blush on her and be hiding her face in my neck while I will be wearing this goofy contented smile I know I won't be able to wipe off my face all day long.

I'll wear my softest skivvies and still wince as I tuck myself into my pants.  She'll wince every time she bends down to pick up Andy.  There's just something about seeing that, something about knowing that every time she moves she will feel the lingering repercussions of this night that just makes me feel good inside.  Like a man.  Some blend of a husband's concern and a lover's pride.  And she'll know too- how every time I sit down today that I'll be reminded of this night. 

It is how we make the heart of what we are to each other something tangible we can feel long after we have parted.  It is how we make love.  How we show our love.  How we reinforce it and make it strong and lasting.  It is how we build sanctuary, stone by stone, touch by touch, until it is solid enough to shelter us, one inside the other, from all of life's storms.