Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey (9 page)

* * * *

“Two hundred bucks a month?” Deena slipped
her hand in his as they left the restaurant and headed to The Wet
Tee Shirt.

“Yeah. For doing nothin’ really. How many
guys doin’ that for you?” Rex arched an eyebrow.

“None. You ever been in love, Rex?”

“Never found the one, Deena.” He turned to
face her.

She placed her palm on his cheek and looked
into his eyes.

“It’s time you did.”

Got her. Hook, line and sinker.

He smiled at her.

“You volunteering for the job?”

“Maybe.”

“You make me hard, baby.” His gaze swept her
body.

“That’s not love.”

“As close as I’m gonna get.”

Deena stopped and moved into his arms. She
placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“Maybe I can change your mind.” Deena pursed
her lips and pushed her breasts up against him.

She’s into me.

“Maybe you can, baby. Ain’t gonna stop you
from tryin’.”

It was obvious to Rex Deena felt safer at
The Wet Tee Shirt with him there as the bouncer. He never missed a
day and never came to work drunk, like Benny did. He was always
alert and she knew no one would give her a hard time as long as he
was there.

Deena was getting good at gathering
information. When she suspected a customer had something to hide,
she had Raj make their drinks stronger. She slipped him twenty
dollars from time to time, thinking Rex didn’t know, so Raj
wouldn’t ask questions. She flirted and talked with as many patrons
as she could, always looking for information to give to Rex. Every
time she had a good tip, he was happy and appreciative, giving her
small gifts, taking her out and making love to her.

* * * *

At eight o’clock in the morning, Alan left
Rex sleeping in the guest room and went to his office where the
first thing he did was count the number of women in his Survey of
Western Literature classes. There were fifty-three women out of two
classes of fifty students. He smiled. Surely one of those women
will fail…unless she was a little friendly.

Alan was lonely. His wife, Beth had left him
for her chemistry teaching assistant. Beth and Cal Dexter worked
together for two semesters and Alan never had any hint they were
having an affair. Beth had still had sex with Alan and seemed to be
satisfied. Of course when he looked back on it, he could see her
interest in affection, outside of the sex he initiated, dwindled
down to nothing during the year. Her pulling away was so
subtle.

Then it happened, after final exams one day
in May when he came back from submitting his final grades. He’d
never forget the moment…that moment of ultimate humiliation. He’d
walked into their house and Beth was not there. There was no note,
no message on his cell phone. In fact, he’d found her cell phone on
the dresser. A sense of dread had come over him as the empty house
became so quiet he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. He
had approached her closet, afraid to open the door. When he finally
got the courage, he was shocked to see only empty hangers. All her
clothes were gone.

Next he checked her bureau drawers. They
were all empty too. Her two suitcases were gone from the closet
shelves. He searched the house for a note, but found none. Beth was
gone. Alan couldn’t breathe. Feeling a tightness in his chest, he
sat down. He didn’t know what to do. Where was Beth? Why did she
go? Was she coming back?

They had been married for eight years. Eight
happy years. He had met Beth in graduate school. She was studying
chemistry and he was studying English and they bumped into each
other in the library. Alan liked her right away. Beth was quiet,
she rarely shared her feelings. They dated for six months before
Alan asked her to marry him.

Together they lived a quiet life of teaching
and traveling. He thought she’d always be there. He thought they’d
grow old together. Then Cal Dexter had arrived. Alan thought he was
a brash young man, a know-it-all. But he spent a lot of time with
Beth, discussing students, teaching methods and experiments. Beth
never mentioned Cal at home, so Alan didn’t worry.

Alan checked with Jonesy, the administrative
secretary and discovered Cal Dexter was gone too. He finished his
Master’s degree and left, telling no one where he was going, which
Jonesy thought odd. Alan knew then it was part of their plan.

Shock turned to anger. Anger turned to
cold-blooded rage. He hated Beth. He hated Cal. It was three years
since Beth left him, since the divorce papers arrived with still no
word from Beth, since Alan’s life came apart but he hadn’t moved
on. Alan was out for revenge, revenge on women and the young women
in his freshman English class became his targets.

Helpless girls who had no knack for English
were ripe for Alan’s cruelty and sexual advances. He spared no one,
after all, neither Beth nor Cal spared him. Had they given him a
chance to change? Even a reason? For three years he kept guessing
what it was that went wrong, but he’d never know for sure and not
knowing drove him crazy. He never heard from Beth again.

So Alan looked over his list of potential
victims and decided this would be a good year with more girls than
ever taking his English class. Who would it be this year? He
couldn’t wait to find out.

Alan reminded himself there was a suicide he
was responsible for last year. Margaret Jason took an overdose and
died. The administration attributed it to some break-up with a
boyfriend, but Alan knew it was because he failed her in English
and dashed her hopes of ever getting into veterinary school. As
soon as Alan became aware of Margaret’s death, he changed her grade
to a B. He didn’t want that F, the only failing grade on her entire
record, to be discovered because he knew an investigation would put
him in the spotlight and he’d have to answer some uncomfortable
questions.

Alan looked up the fifty-three girls in the
database to check out their majors. He was looking for serious
science majors and phys. Ed. majors…the ones most likely to have
trouble in his English class. You had to watch out for those phys.
Ed. majors, though, sometimes they turned out to be lesbians. His
favorites were the pre-med majors who couldn’t write an English
paper. Every time he had sex with one of them, he thought of Beth
and her gift for chemistry. She could barely write an intelligible
sentence, he scoffed to himself.

Rex moving into his house didn’t deter Alan.
He had sex with his students in the evening, but in his office, not
at home, so Rex would never know. Still, Alan worried about having
him around. Rex didn’t miss much. But he paid rent, so Alan
couldn’t complain. He was careful around Rex, kept his mouth shut,
or Rex would move in on him like a vulture and tear him apart.

* * * *

At the neat little house on James Street

Peter had fallen in love with Lara, but she
didn’t love him back and it was killing him, eating him up. He
needed to go back to his position of strength, an environment where
he could be in control…a bar. He called Mac.

“Hey, Mac. Where does a single guy go here
for some action?”

“How the hell would I know? I’ve been
married for five years.”

“Come on, Mac. Even in a town this small
there’s a place.”

“There’s the Juke Box, and a topless
bar.”

“Topless sounds good. Where?”

“It’s called The Wet Tee Shirt. It’s on
Malone outside of town, past Monty’s Liquor Store and The Tire
Factory.”

“I think I know where that is.”

“Call me if you need a ride home, Pete,
okay?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

After dinner with Sam, Peter got dressed for
a night of tomcatting at The Wet Tee Shirt.

“Where you headed tonight, Pete?” Sam said,
picking up a book and settling down in an easy chair. He watched
his son carefully combing his hair in the mirror by the front
door.

“You don’t want to know, Dad.”

“Where?”

“A topless bar.”

Silence greeted Peter. Sam put his book down
and glared at his son.

“No women in a long time…makes an unhappy
man,” Peter said, opening the door.

“Don’t go. You can patch things up with
Lara.”

“A woman who goes off the deep end because I
give her an innocent little kiss will never be more than a friend.
I need a woman. I’m not meant for a celibate life.”

Peter walked out the door, got into the car
and drove away.

As he pulled into the parking lot, he
noticed there were only a few cars there.

Small town strip joint, no cars, how good
can it be?

Sexual frustration forced him out of the
car, and curiosity enticed him to the front door.

She drove me to it. Lara, you’re always out
of reach.

He wondered what he’d find inside.

After entering The Wet Tee Shirt, Peter
stopped to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. There was a bar
on the right and a stage on the left. In between were small tables
and chairs. It was eight o’clock and there were two girls wearing
only tiny bikini bottoms gyrating on the stage to boring canned
music.

The place was practically empty. Two guys
were sitting at the bar, one, fairly drunk already ordered another
drink, loudly while the other watched the women. There were four
men scattered at different tables.

Peter let his eyes adjust to the dark room,
then found a table not too far from the stage. He looked over the
girls carefully. He wondered what Lara would look like dancing
there, topless. Once she entered his mind, the brunette and redhead
faded. He closed his eyes and saw Lara’s beautiful face and
luxurious brown hair. He opened his eyes and let his mind soar into
fantasy, until a topless waitress interrupted his thoughts.

“I say, are you drinking, buddy?”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll have a Johnny Walker Red
straight up,” he said, staring briefly at her chest, trying to get
Lara out of his mind. Lara’s breasts weren’t as big as this
woman’s, but he guessed Lara’s were firmer. His fingers tingled
slightly at the thought of touching the sweet ballerina.

When his drink came, he drank it quickly and
ordered another, hoping the alcohol would make Lara disappear. But
his fantasies continued…a vision of her naked in his bed, the tops
of her breasts peeking out slightly from the sheet swam in his
head. He had it bad.

“Hi, there. You new here?” the brunette said
as she sat down at his table.

Peter looked up. She wasn’t bad looking, but
she wasn’t Lara.

“What’s your name? I’m Deena,” she said,
giving him a warm smile. “Buy me a drink?”

“Sure. I’m Peter,” he said then turned to
motion to the waitress.

Peter had two more drinks and Deena had one.
They became chummy as Deena drew her chair closer to Peter and he
touched her hand. Deena questioned Peter, trying to be subtle.

“You look familiar. Who are you here
visiting?”

“I’m not visiting. I’m teaching here this
year.” Peter looked down at his drink.

“At Kensington State?”

“Yup.” He nodded.

“Know Mac Caldwell?” Deena finished her
drink.

“He’s my brother. How do you know him?”
Peter asked, staring at her face.

“I went out with him for a while, a few
years ago,” Deena said, flashing him her sexiest smile.

“He’s been married for five years and from
what I’ve seen, I doubt he’s cheating on his wife,” Peter said. He
narrowed his eyes.

“You’re right. It was a long time ago.
You’re his brother, huh? I guess sexy runs in the family,” she
said, putting her hand on his arm.

Peter flashed back to Lara putting her hand
on his arm when she almost fell over. He recalled how warm her
little hand was and how her touch created heat in his body.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Deena said.

“I’m here,” Peter said, trying to focus on
Deena while the alcohol addled his brain.

“You lived here long?” he asked her,
speaking slowly and forcing his tongue to cooperate.

“Long enough. How are Mac and his bride?”
Deena said, sarcastically.

“Good,” Peter said, too tipsy to pick up on
the sarcasm.

“Any kids yet?”

“Yeah. But he’s had Jason for a long time,
though Jason isn’t his kid.”

“What do you mean?” Deena leaned closer to
him.

“Not his bio…biology…not his natural kid.
He’s got the cutest little girl, Kitty. She’s his bio…natural
kid…looks just like him,” Peter rambled on.

“You mean Mac isn’t Jason’s biological
father?”

“Nope,” Peter said, putting his empty glass
down on the table.

“Who is?” Deena sat up straighter.

“Beats me. Mac never told me. Probably
doesn’t know,” Peter murmured, resting his chin on his hand.

Mac wasn’t Jason’s biological father.
Whammo! That ought to be worth something. She looked over at Rex,
smiled and nodded her head.

“His tough luck. Gotta go,” Deena said
getting up from the table.

“Hey, what happened? Where are you going?”
Peter said, confused.

“I gotta rest before the next show,” she
said, obviously lying, leaning over and kissing him on the
forehead.

This was the second time he bombed out with
a woman in one week. He finished his fourth drink remembering he
didn’t care about Deena, it was Lara he couldn’t erase from his
mind, even after four drinks. He pictured her kissing him while
Liebesträume
played on the radio, in bed, under the summer
moon, under the orange and gold leaves of an autumn birch tree. If
he closed his eyes, he could feel her lips again.

Then the alcohol hit him hard; feeling dizzy
he quickly opened his eyes, realizing he could barely stand up. He
fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. It dropped on the floor
and he almost fell out of his chair retrieving it. Finally he
turned it around and pushed the first button.