Mindless - Part 2

Barely making it to the villa, Stephen alighted from the car several minutes after he had parked it in the lot, his head pounding. It was an ache that was untouchable - he instinctively knew that no amount of aspirin would alleviate this cerebral synaptic shock raging through his temporal lobes.

Grimacing, he wandered into the guest-room and dropped down on the sofa couch. Images of his wife and their children rolled like so many images in a theatre, scene after scene…some happy and sad….some intensely intimate…………He had no idea now he would handle this new situation. The images blurred to the encounter in Leslie-Ann’s house and jolted him again, aroused him again. Made him feel guilty, too and frustrated. On the screen of his closed eyelids the scene he wanted was playing, at once stimulating the searing headache, and calming his tightly wound emotions.

He tapped out the message quickly, lest he forget something…he loved her, was coming to get her and she should not worry anymore. Just remember how he used to be and know that it will be like that forever. The days ahead would be testing days: how was she making out? He had got the settlement from the insurance company, could build them a whole new life - a fresh start. Just believe in him and wait for him….

“Is that a letter to Her?” the woman glanced over his shoulder, a little bit of bitterness in her voice;
“Yes;”
“How do you think she’ll react?”
“I have no idea…but I’ve been praying….”

The woman watched the back of his head now, the dark hair she loved to run her hands through when he lay between her breasts. But he didn’t want her body, did not know its secrets, was not her Lover. That Woman’s baby to him would be her children’s brother or sister – technically, making her feel like a kept-mistress, a concubine – not his wife of twelve years. But of course, she wasn’t…not This Man…Would he ever tell Her about her…..?

“Jonathan….?” she whispered, but the man never looked back, or acknowledged her…..

Leslie-Ann lay in the darkened room, conflicted. Her mother’s instinct made her hyper-aware of any small noise in the house that might be Amanda regressing in her illness. She was too tired to sleep, would have to get up for work later in the morning, felt like a dead.

She felt cold under the warm comforter, knowing it was not the temperature on the outside that made her chilly. Stephen had left her in a state of flux, meandering between guilt and desire that was maddening. When Wesley got home she would make desperate, passionate love to him however she could, and erase this Man’s passionate embrace from her mind.

Smiling at the plans she had to welcome her husband calmed her enough to make her sleepy, but Wesley’s body was not the one pressed into hers in the dream. The man disrobing her was not her husband; and the one sending her into ecstatic orgasm wore someone else’s wedding band….

If she could just hear Wesley’s voice, she reasoned….it was over six months now, surely he was on his way back since the last letter. The hospital assured her he was doing well, but his voice box would take a while to heal, he couldn’t talk to her just yet. But he emailed her frequently, although he never sent any pictures. Even when she asked him to send one for the kids, he had declined, didn’t want them to see him just yet.

Getting up now, she opened those emails on her computer, reading his declarations of love for her. Pulled up the pictures of their little family at Disney World, on a Caribbean Cruise, on the beach in Folkestone, at a picnic in Bath….Ran her fingers over the face she had made her desk-top picture and burned his image into her mind again. How could any other man’s love be as sweet and complete as his…? Only he knew the secrets of her body, what she liked and how she liked, knew exactly where her birthmark was…And those times - private times - in the bath, on a trip home in some side road, waking at midnight while the kids slept….. 

Wes…? Wes…? Are you awake…? she tapped into the still night air, waiting with a strange despair.
I’m here, baby….came the reply, a few minutes later.  Are you okay?
Amanda had an episode tonight: a fever that would not go down. Had to go QEH.
Is she okay?
She’s fine now - I asked a Friend to help me.
Where was Mark?
Car trouble, just like me. Wish you were here - she was calling for you.
Poor baby - I’ll get there as fast as I can. Hit some snags.
It’s so hard, Wes. I need you desperately. Really need you. Can’t do this on my own anymore…..
I’ll be there before month-end, I promise….miss your body, darling……
Need to be in your arms quickly, too, darling….I’m not doing well.

                                                *****

Another hour, then two. Leslie-Ann trembled in real dread now: Wesley was not on the 5:15. The only person she knew coming down the ramp at 7:30 was Stephen, back from another of his business trips. His wife was not with him.

“Leslie-Ann, what are you doing here?”

“Wesley wasn’t on any of the flights.” She sighed sadly. “I got an email just before you came in saying the hospital kept him overnight, and he missed the flight. He won’t be here until next week…”

The woman seemed totally distressed at the turn of events, on the brink of tears. She confided she really could not go on like this, the pressure of work and the two kids was all but overwhelming her, no matter how organized she was. She had even prepared a nice dinner, sent the kids over to their gran’s where she’d pick them up later. Now she had worn herself out for nothing, had to tell the kids their dad was delayed - again!

Stephen listened quietly as he walked with her to the car-port, but did not pick up his car. Instead, he got behind the wheel of her little mini, and started her home, aware that she was in no mood to journey home alone. “I don’t even know if he wants to come home, anymore…” she continued, sniffing.

“Don’t ever think that, Leslie-Ann,” Stephen re-assured her, “That’s not true, and you know it. It’s been a frightful ordeal. I was surprised they let him travel so soon. Please be patient.”

Leslie-Ann sniffed a little more, but nodded resiliently.

“How’s Angie?” she asked, trying to calm her own distress,

“She’s in Chicago - with her children;”

“She travels just as much as you do. Be back tomorrow?” For a few seconds there was a palpable silence behind the wheel. She wondered if she had said something wrong.

“Angie won’t be coming back….” he admitted finally. Leslie-Ann stared at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, Stephen. I didn’t know…I hope…I don’t know what else to say - my little disappointment seems so stupid now….”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Leslie-Ann: it was inevitable. We’re still good friends, the kids are mature and understand these things. I couldn’t have asked for more…..”

In just under half hour they were in front of her little door, quiet with the absence of the children. They had wanted to see their Dad badly, could barely contain their excitement as they imagined the stories he had to tell them, but Gran insisted that Mom should spend a little time with him first, then come for them.

Leslie-Ann turned on the houselights now, trying bravely to hide her deep disappointment. Stephen stood on the porch, watching her gather up the red and white cushions that were specially brought out for this occasion, accentuating the white laced tablecloth on the dinner table in the center of the room.

“How will you get home, Stephen?” she asked suddenly, remembering that he had not picked up his car, and had not stopped by the villa.

“I’ll call a cab, if you’ll permit me to use your phone…” Leslie-Ann nodded absently, putting the white china plates, setting for two, one in the other. A small bouquet of red and white ginger lilies graced the center, and two lovely, long stemmed unlit candles. “I could drive you back, it’s no problem, you know….” she offered.

“I’ll be quite alright, Leslie-Ann; picking up the kids?” Leslie-Ann bit her lip.

“I don’t know how to disappoint them again…” she shrugged resignedly.

Stephen made his way capably to the small telephone on the side table, and flicked through the phone book. Leslie-Ann heard him dialing the cab company, when a sudden, strange idea flashed across her mind.

“Stephen, would you like to have dinner with me?” she asked, making him cut straight across his conversation with the cabbie. He stared at her a minute, until the impatient operator asked what him what he wanted to do. Promising to call back, Stephen hung up the phone.

“Are you sure?” he asked her gently.

“It’s only dinner - folks have dinner together all the time…” she quipped, with a sad smile.

The dinner was simple, home-made and tasty, the conversation easy and uncontrived. There was no talk about disappointing spouses, or ones that left you. All too soon it was late in the evening, and Leslie-Ann began gathering up the dishes. “I’ll still drive you, Stephen,” she offered again, “it’s the least I could do.”

Watching her turn into the simple kitchen was mesmerizing, he thought, still wearing her little black skirt and frilly white blouse. He remembered the sheer, black stockings atop black heels from another time – he wasn’t stood up now! He was certain she had no idea how sexy the sweet, unconscious little movements she made with the dishes, clearing away the little cache of saucepans, were to him. He understood her trepidation of earlier times - remembered their initial meeting, and the charged chemistry. Remembered their last caress, and first kiss…..And he had to admit in the complete minute that it took him to put that full picture together, that he wanted more than anything else to end this dancing around their feelings for each other.

“Can I use your computer to check my mail, Leslie-Ann?” he asked her instead. Leslie-Ann came almost immediately, putting in the password quickly. He was not timid to watch the clean unbroken line of her chin and neck, disappearing into her cleavage in the pristine white blouse where she bent ever so slightly to complete that task, bra-less for her husband; Leslie-Ann noted it with a sudden conscious fear, retreating behind his seated form.

But his form puzzled her now, as she glanced curiously - not at the computer screen - but at the suture that wound like a snake from the base of his neck, under the straight dark hair. His long fingers tapped into a search engine now, and she retreated, deliberating on whether she should ask him about it.

“It’s the aftermath of an operation,” he told her suddenly, anticipating her curiosity; “brain surgery.”

“Brain surgery…?” she asked incredulously, but he only nodded.
   
“Terrible accident…”

“Just like Wesley, then?”

“Yes…just like Wesley….”

Finally she had tidied the little kitchen that was not really dirty, and picked up her keys, prepared to take Stephen back to the villa. Turning suddenly through the doorway, she was surprised to see Stephen standing in the living room, his case not gathered, just looking at her. Knowing full well his feelings on the matter of their relationship-that-was-not, she hoped he wasn’t thinking of making another pass at her. Just as she was about to dispel the weight of the powerful attraction permeating the thin night air, heavy with his cologne and her loneliness, she was thankful when she heard the ping indicating she had a message in her inbox.

Hurrying past him, she sat quickly at the keyboard and logged in. It was Wesley!

Stephen watched her with a look akin only to deep compassion, as she smiled at the words she read.

“Is he well?” he asked perceptively;

“He’s doing okay,” she smiled, “can’t wait to be with me….” she said more quietly, an interpretation of what might be considerably more verbose than she admitted. Another few minutes, then she shut down the console and prepared to leave again.

Stephen stood several feet away from the doorway, his case still un-gathered from the couch he had left it in almost two hours ago. Leslie-Ann’s heart pounded now, annoyed and confused by the insistence of the unspoken attention he seemed to require from her at this point.

“Not now, Stephen….” she pleaded, tired of the game, “I can’t do this anymore….I can’t pretend….”

“I love you, Leslie-Ann…” he told her again, smiling.

“What do you want me to do, Stephen? I don’t love you! I’m sorry if my actions misled you, but I love Wesley Dean Anderson: my husband! Can’t you understand that?” For an unearthly minute, they stared at one another.

“Do you know who I am, Leslie-Ann?” he asked her suddenly,

“What kind of foolishness are you asking me, Stephen?” she shrugged annoyed, wanting to end this inane conversation, side-track this insinuated intimacy, get the hell out of Dodge……………..

“Look at me, Leslie-Ann…” Stephen was insisting softly, “look at me…?”

“Stephen, you are frightening me,” she confessed, “I don’t understand what you’re doing…”

Attempting to side-step him was a gesture in futility that she had not calculated fully, and she trembled now as he took her by the shoulders gently, looking in her face for some unsearchable truth she did not understand, his dark eyes riveting. She was feeling suddenly frightened, alone with this man, holding him firmly along his forearms to brace herself.

“I’m not trying to scare you, Leslie-Ann - tell me you don’t have feelings for me,”

“I was - am - very attracted to you, Stephen….”

“Why, Leslie-Ann? Why do you want me?”

“I don’t want you, Stephen. I just…I just….”

“Tell me, Leslie-Ann: what is it you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you, Stephen,” she countered frustrated, “it was just that you reminded me of Wesley…..”

“What’s the difference between us, Leslie-Ann? If we are so much alike, what is different?”

“Well, you both look different, Stephen - that’s obvious. You sound different….”

“Anything else, Leslie-Ann? Anything at all?”

“You’re different people, Stephen… I guess I was just lonely….”

Suddenly, Stephen pulled the surprised woman into his arms and kissed her so passionately that her head spun. For some other unknown reason, she responded uncharacteristically - drawing his head and face into her own until she had tasted his whole palate, threw her arms around his throat until she could feel the whole length of his body pressed into hers.

As his hands eagerly explored the contours of her body, Leslie-Ann began a weak protest that was lost in the strength of his arms lifting her bodily, spreading her legs around his waist, fastening them at his back. She heard the thud of her heels drop just as surprised and suddenly as her catapulting emotions. In a flurry of cloth, Stephen had peeled their shirts off, and dizzied her with his intense kisses.

Now Leslie-Ann was petrified, knowing her desire for this act was just as powerful as his, and that both of them were powerless, having initiated sexual contact, to reverse any one element without doing violence to themselves. They were leaning against the wall now, already naked from the waist up, kissing and caressing each other bodies in desperation, as if to consummate the act quickly before their consciences kicked in.

In one motion, the man flicked the switch on the wall, sending them into complete darkness. Leslie-Ann panted in fright, staring open-eyed at the darkness, unable to see the man in whose arms she was locked. But now they were moving, off the wall, in the darkness as in the light….moving….

“Stephen…?” Leslie-Ann called in fright, “you don’t know where…”

“Yes, I do, darling….” he panted against her throat, energized by the tremble in her body.

Accurate down to the last inch, in the total darkness, he reached the Master bedroom, where a faint iridescent glow from the street-lamp up their driveway, illuminated the edges of the bed. Lowering their bodies unto the scented sheets she had selected for her husband’s pleasure, Leslie-Ann let the Man align their bodies in anticipation of their heated lovemaking.

“Close your eyes, Leslie-Ann…” he whispered as he made her pant uncontrollably, “close your eyes and make love to me….”

Stephen wrestled her deliciously on her bed now, out of his slacks and her skirt and stockings, caressing her deeply; propelling their joining with a consistent force that elated her, at once satisfying her deep desire for consummation with him, and sated her hunger for his body. 

Finally, Leslie-Ann lay panting from the frenzy of their adultery, staring up into the darkness. But her Lover had not yet ceased his attentions to her, kissing and touching her, trying to persuade her to continue the tryst that gave him such frenetic delight.

“I can’t get enough of you, Leslie-Ann….” he told her hungrily, slipping his hand directly against what she knew to be a point she had only ever shared with Wesley – a beautifully exclusive discovery they had made during their times together.

The fact that this man caressed her there now so lovingly, though apparently unaware of the significance, made her blood boil with both anger and desire: anger at herself for so easily giving him what she would only share with the Love of her life; and longing, maddening desire….She could feel her body stirring again, even as the coolness of his wedding band sent a minute chill through her, jolting her back to the reality of what she was doing.

“Wes….Steve….get off me! Get off me…!!" Leslie-Ann panicked, her mind filled with images of her children, finding her in their father’s bed with her Friend.

“I won’t, baby….I can’t…” he insisted, holding on to her, “Listen to me, Les….”

“You made me cheat, Stephen!” she accused him with tears, scrambling up and pushing him away. She groped for the bedside light she knew was there, and hugged her knees defiantly with her back to the man lying against her pillows. A beautiful man, she thought guiltily, but wrong….so, so wrong……

Those were not the thoughts of her Lover, however, as he searched for the words which would end her ambiguity, make her sure in the face of her hesitation. What could he tell her that wouldn’t frighten her out of his arms forever? This wasn’t supposed to be so hard, he reasoned, what had everyone missed that made this so hard….?

He didn’t touch her anymore, but remained thoughtful and silent. He thought by now that she could see - clearly see what was so obvious from Day One. But he knew the woman saw with her sweet memories, and not with her reasoning mind. Didn’t she know who he was….? Had it never occurred to her? How could she imagine it, anyway….

“Did you want it to be Wesley…?” he asked her slowly, “did you want it be him when you held me….?”

“It should have been him, Stephen….”

“Don’t tell me what should be, Leslie-Ann, tell me what is: how do you feel about me, Leslie-Ann?”

Leslie-Ann sniffed in frustration now, conflicted, tortured, angry tears beginning to flow swiftly.

“I love you, Stephen, and it’s killing me!” she blurted out, “I’m cheating on my husband!”

The man reached for her now, held the sobbing woman against his naked body for as long as she could take it, tortured in guilt about the consequences of the sin she would have to face. He held her silently for the whole time, wordlessly as his custom seemed to be, letting the tide of her woe simmer and wane, as a clock ticked away the moments somewhere in the house. The atmosphere was so charged that it sounded like a time-bomb in his head, bringing the inevitable to its conclusion.

“Do you remember the time you were supposed to leave for Disney, and Amanda had colic?” he asked her gently. Leslie-Ann gulped a big bolus of air suddenly and her tears froze: had she told him about that at some point….? Things had happened so quickly in their relationship……..

“Jaime spent two whole weeks in chapel praying fervently for her recovery so we wouldn’t miss out…” Stephen Clarke giggled now, “because we told him to pray for a miracle?”

“She was only ten weeks old…” Leslie-Ann finished, her heart pounding in her chest. “She shouldn’t have had colic….” Stephen nodded with a smile. Leslie-Ann looked in his face quizzically.

“That same year we were going for bust - there was absolutely no other money anywhere….”

“But we promised Jaime for a year, we couldn’t disappoint him….” Did he read her emails while he was at the computer….? How could he violate…..?

“We didn’t tell anybody a word - we just packed and prayed…”

“And Amanda’s colic went away…a miracle, Jaime said…..”

Leslie-Ann raised herself off the man’s chest now, a little chill going up and down her spine….

“I blew 5 grand on an old piece of rusty pick-up to start the business, that you borrowed from your parents’ retirement savings, co-signed by your mom….”

“Daddy could never know…he said a man should never beg, but work hard and save….”

“I paid your mom back $100 a week for nearly forever - totally in secret….”

Leslie-Ann was staring into the midnight blue eyes of the man she’d just made love to, a man she hardly knew…….????? But he was staring at her so intently that she began to tremble….

“The first time I made love with you was the first time we knew you had a birthmark there….you asked me….”

“What you were doing looking up there….?” Leslie-Ann’s furrowed brow now took on a look of horror; she paled…

“I told you I loved looking at you - all of you - all the time….and I still do. Forgive me if I stare…..”

Leslie-Ann jumped from the bed she had just shared with the man, her hand clasped over her mouth, her eyes staring. Forgetting her nakedness, she panted uncontrollably - terrified at what was racing through her mind. The man just looked at her, calmly, breathing easily, lying back on her pillows….

“Wesley……!!!?” she sputtered;

“Yes, darling?” she heard someone say….

Leslie-Ann felt faint, but willed herself to remain coherent even as her mind exploded with shock and disbelief, her eyes popping.

“You ….you…No, no….you’re Stephen Clarke….please, Stephen - don’t do this to me…!”

“Stephen Wesley Clarke, baby…I’ll always be Wesley, just for you….”

“But what…!? How in the name of God…..?!!”

“I am the thirteenth successful trial of inaugural brain transplantation…..without it I was considered mince-meat with a heartbeat….”

“But why, Wes…? You knew I would love you regardless….”

“I couldn’t leave you, Leslie-Ann….I could never leave you…at first I just wanted to die, end the pain, the despair….then I thought about you and the children - then I knew I wanted to be with you just a little longer…..and that’s what I prayed for all through the surgeries, and tests, and medications - just a little longer……”

“But you should have asked me, Wes: it wasn’t your decision alone - how can I ever process this? I cheated on you with….I mean…..God, Wesley!!! What the hell is this…?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed now, she marveled at the thoughts racing through her mind. “But your letters…emails….” she tried to process, “you were here all along…..?”

“I sent them from Miami initially, but every time I promised you I would be home - I was. When I met you in the villa, I knew there was no going back anymore…fell in love with you all over again….”

“But I was so lonely….I fell for Stephen so hard, felt so guilty all the time…..”

“You fell in love with a man who reminded you of your husband so much, that you were powerless to resist: you fell in love with your husband - not with another man….”

Leslie-Ann’s brain hurt more than she imagined his did.  “I wish you hadn’t changed, Wesley,” she admitted at last, “I wish you had died and lived forever in my sweet memories…..”

“That’s the thing about us: we affix faces and forms to thoughts and actions and call them being, but really all we love and know is the character of a person: this is his reason for being, this is who he is….Even if the outer shell is mangled and gone, Leslie-Ann, and somehow we could survive it, I would still love you forever….”

Leslie-Ann sat heavily on the edge of the bed now, looking at him open-mouthed. She was totally and completely shocked wordless, and she had no way to hide it. Her brain fired in thousands of synapses simultaneously trying to piece together this conundrum, her emotions flip-flopping as she tried to understand this logic.

“Do you love me, Leslie-Ann?” he asked her, leaning to look on her face now, sitting on the edge of the bed far from him - afraid to be near him.

She looked behind his eyes now, the bright blue-black eyes that flashed a deep, penetrating shade of blue in both sunlight and moonlight. Tentatively ran her fingers along the jaw line that had only an hour before been pressed up close against her in deep coitus, and her mind settled...forever settled…

“Of course I love you, Stephen….” she said finally, “I always have…..”

Leslie-Ann allowed him to take her in his arms once again, closed her eyes and kissed him until she could see only Stephen Clarke’s face, until she could feel guiltless for loving him…..Would they tell the children? Her parents and a few select friends? Or nobody: Let Wesley Dean Anderson die, but live forever with Stephen Wesley Clarke….?

Leslie-Ann had no answers. She wasn’t certain if anyone ever would this side of heaven, but they both knew you would only be allowed one chance like this in a lifetime, and she was thankful for now – so very thankful …..