Loving Lena
Loving Lena
Copyright © June 2011 by S. J. Nelson
Published by Sitting Bull Publishing
Raeford, NC
www.wix.com/SittingBullPub/sittingbull
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY.
No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed without prior written
permission from S. J. Nelson or Sitting Bull Publishing.
eISBN 978-1937334-00-0
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter 1
Lena Pace hid in her bathroom. For the hundredth time, she wondered what she was doing. Why had she given in to her wacky needs and left the club with the hunky man waiting in her room? Turning on the water, she looked at herself in the mirror. According to Faye, her best friend, she still looked like the fresh faced eighteen-year-old who’d run the streets of Denver five years ago. However, Lena knew better. Her sham of a marriage had left its mark even if her outer appearance didn’t tell the tale, her memory box wouldn’t allow her to forget. Her cynicism was in full bloom.
“You okay in there?” The soft knock snapped her out of her musings.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just need a few more minutes.” Head hanging forward, she pushed the long dark strands from her face and swallowed hard. This was no way to live, checking closets or medicine cabinets, double guessing every word or gesture. Standing straight in the spotless room, she grimaced at her fingernails. An hour ago, they’d been holding this man’s cheeks, pulling him tight as he pounded into her. It’d been fantastic and had almost silenced the fears, the doubts.
Almost
, being the key word.
“I’ve got to get going. I have an appointment. Want to get together for lunch?” He said through the door, his voice hopeful. The foul taste of regret stung her mouth and singed her nostrils. She couldn’t remember his name. Her new mantra, get what you need and then let them go. That way she was guaranteed against being humiliated again. Still, this wasn't working. She had to stop.
“I have a meeting with the Principal at the school this afternoon.” She lied, not intending to see him again. He waited a heartbeat.
“Oh, okay. I’ll call you later then.” Her forehead touched the wall as she waited for the pain to stop. When he left, she slid to the floor, opened the bottom drawer of the vanity, and pulled out one of the damning letters. The parchment that had fractured her self esteem and destroyed her confidence in her ability to discern fact from fiction appeared wrinkled and worn from many readings. She kept them all as reminders of what happens when you believe the hype. As reminders that men couldn’t be trusted. Moreover, as a reminder to be vigilant and never get sucker-punched again. Fool me once, forget it happening a second time. Bracing herself, she gazed at the short missive.
Dear Lena:
Your attorney won't give out any information on your whereabouts, and after my dad hit you, I can't blame you. First, I want to say I am sorry. Sorry that I've failed you as a husband, and as your spiritual leader and Pastor. The day you walked in on Anthony and I, my life stopped. You said I'd wasted five years of your life. That I was incapable of ever loving you the way a man loves a woman. I guess you believe that based on what you saw in the bedroom that day, but you are wrong. I love you. Have always loved you.
You are the bright beam in my dreary existence. Every since I was a little boy, I'd been told I was special, that God's hand was on my life. Consequently, my life consisted of church and preparing for my own church and little else. I was never allowed to play sports and have no interest or love for them. I had no friends outside of church members. I needed to remain pure. I had no idea what happened between a man and a woman. God was supposed to teach me when the time was right. You see how that turned out.
I came to you as a man, but I didn’t know how to be a husband. I'm not sure I know how to be one now. But, I'm willing to try. Meeting you was the highlight of an otherwise bleak existence. You were my first in so many things, and I will always treasure the time with you. I know these sound like excuses, but I’ve been trying to figure out why we're at this difficult place in our lives.
You deserve the best this world has to offer, and I messed up. You are beautiful inside and out. I understand you want nothing to do with my crazy family or me. I pray that will change, that we can start our family as we planned. I beg your forgiveness. I wanted to let you know; I do love you and will always love you.
Your Husband
Elijah Pace
The words washed over her. She closed her eyes. The pain and embarrassment wasn’t as strong. It had been six months since she’d walked in on him screwing Anthony, the Music Minister from the church. Ironically, the three of them had been close friends, although Elijah and Anthony were obviously closer. She’d been playing the Good Samaritan that day and took soup to Anthony, who’d been absent from church because of a bad cold. Or so he’d claimed. They had keys to each other’s places, so it was nothing for her to walk in with a warm batch of homemade chicken pasta soup and cold medicine. Strange sounds from the back caught her attention. Thinking he was having some type of attack, she rushed to his room. The door stood open and she got an eyeful of her husband pounding the smaller man in the rear. If the sounds and facial expressions were any indication, both men seemed to be in heaven.
She’d never seen that look on Elijah’s face when he was with her. That thought brought others, until she shook with the pain of betrayal and rage. They’d had a showdown after the men emerged from the room. After a well-deserved slap across his face, she left him with his lover. Since she’d cut off all communication with him, he’d taken to writing her. Even Anthony had written to her. She pulled out his letter.
Lena,
I know you don't want to hear from me, not after catching us, well you know. But before you throw this letter in the trash, I'm begging you on behalf of the long friendship we had to let me say these few words. Elijah loves you. Well, as much as he can love anybody. He's falling apart because of the divorce and the lawsuit. He misses you and is barely functioning. Now, I got that in, and if you're still reading I need to tell you, I'm sorry.
You've been the closest person to a sister I've ever had. When you and Elijah met five years ago, I applauded his choice and stood up for him as best man. I believed then and still believe he'd chosen the best woman in the world for him. Please believe me when I say Elijah and I were not involved all those years. As you know, I was screwing a few of the women in the choir and the congregation. If someone, anyone, had told me I was interested in men, I would've laughed. I'm not interested in men. I don't believe I'm gay.
I would be lying if I said I didn't love Elijah. I do. Probably have for years. It wasn't sexual until about six weeks before you caught us. The guilt ate at me until I couldn't look at you; I was so ashamed of my actions. I stayed away from church, saying I was sick. Besides, it wasn't just you we cheated on, but the big guy upstairs as well. It's such a double standard, I know. I've never felt any guilt for banging the women in the church, but after messing around with my best friend a couple of times, I looked for lightning bolts.
I know this isn't funny to you, but you know me, I hide my nervousness with offbeat humor. If you're still reading, I really appreciate it. I promised myself I'd be honest with you, but it's damn hard. I hurt you. Elijah hurt you. The one person in the world neither of us wanted caught in the crossfire. I beg your forgiveness, I hate I lost my best friend because of my lack of control. Maybe one day you'll talk to me again, and I can apologize by voice.
Anthony
They'd been good friends, or so she thought. Would a friend treat another friend the way he'd treated her? God, she hoped not. Could she ever forgive him? Thinking about it gave her a pounding headache. Moving on meant leaving the stain of her marriage behind. In theory, it sounded good; she hoped a change of venue would help.
###
The warmth of Wyoming’s noon sun added it's validation on the outing Lena and Faye embarked upon. After weeks of bullying to get her out the house, Faye's antiquated car succeeded where all other ploys failed. Months ago, Lena had stopped dating, stopped going out, and stopped dealing with people. She knew Faye worried over her. The divorce had taken its toll emotionally. Her attorney was salivating over a possible quick settlement with the County Police department and her father-in-law. She’d found little joy in the sordid mess and wished it was over, even though she’d moved away.
Based on Faye’s research, Hoffmann Motors dealership offered the best deals and service. Faye bubbled with excited energy. Lena smiled, glad to see someone animated. Recently, her life had taken on the role of a badly-written television sitcom. No matter how hard she tried to shake the gloominess, it clung to her like a parasitic vine.
“Look at all these cars,” Faye enthused. “I wanna test drive a couple.” Her legs moved at a fast clip towards the front row where the sports cars were parked and displayed. Lena stood next to her car, a faithful BMW 535, which she’d keep according to the proposed settlement. She stretched and looked around. There were so many cars to choose from; she prayed this wouldn't take all day. Faye beckoned her toward a red mustang.
“Look at this one.” Faye’s French-manicured hands stroked the hood while she watched her reflection. The yellow-gold sleeveless top and jean mini-skirt complemented her mocha complexion. Lena had always thought of Faye as a black Barbie doll. Shorter than Lena’s almost six feet, Faye’s body was curvaceous, and she sported a perpetual smile. Her short hair matched her angular face and large doe eyes. Faye had no problem with the diva label.
“Uh, I think you’d better stop looking like you’re about to cum, we
are
in public.” Lena said laughing.
“No matter, this baby is a dick magnet. I can't help feeling an instant connection.” Faye pulled open the door and sat inside. Her short skirt rose up her thighs.
“I see something yellow; please pull your skirt down.” Lena turned her back, covering her eyes. Faye laughed and tugged on the scrap of jean fabric.
