Chapter 4: Opening Vaults

I knocked on the door interconnecting our rooms.

"It's not locked, come on in," I heard her call out.

When I walked in, she was putting her uniform in the closet. Finished with that, she turned and picked up the clothes on her bed to place them in the drawers. She glanced at me and faltered; almost dropping the bundle she had in her arms. She put them back on the bed, and took a few steps closer to give me a critical look, making me queasy.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

She ignored my question, and instead asked, "Are you using drugs?" with a serious tone.

Huh! Drugs? Where the hell did that come from?

"Drugs?" I was confused, and that was saying little.

Her eyes were critically examining me, but especially my eyes.

"You... You are looking good. Compared to a while ago, you're looking better than good. I just thought you had taken something," she responded in an apologetic manner.

I didn't have a response to that. I didn't think I was looking as good as she made me out to be.

"You mean I don't look like death warmed over?" I tried to joke. "A shower can do wonders."

"Yeah... something like that," she said with soft laugh. "Are you sure it was just a shower? You have to tell me your trick, whatever it is. I could certainly use it."

"You don't need any tricks. You're looking great," I replied.

She was looking great, dressed in tight jeans and a form-hugging sweater that accentuated her shapely body. She had her long blonde hair loose on her shoulders, making her look younger than her years--I estimated her to be around early 30s, but she didn't look a day over 25.

"A woman can always use help when it comes to looks, and I'm dying to know how you managed what you did."

I didn't do anything... I just broke down and cried like a baby!

The thought made me cringe and I searched for a probable explanation. However, before I could give her a reply, she moved in closer and looked up in my eyes. Caressing my cheek, she said, "It's all right, Mitch."

Does she know--

Of course, you fool! Women always know things like that.

With that thought, I tensed up.

"Don't be embarrassed. You needed to get it out of your system. It's as good as any other way... and sometimes, much better. From the looks of it, it did a world of good," she said, trying to put me at ease and succeeding. She was a remarkable person. Especially, how she managed to appease my unease with her sweet talk and soothing manners.

"Shall we order?" she asked, changing the subject.

After we made our choices, I placed the order with room service. I prepared a gin and tonic for her, while taking a beer for myself. We talked about neutral subjects, trying to get to know each other, until the dinner arrived.

During dinner, we continued our talk, and I learned that she had been a flight attendant for 12 years. She had a brief, 2-year marriage--no kids--ending in an amicable divorce. Now, she was seeing a colleague in the office at the airport back in her hometown. She moved the subject to me; what I did for work, and other general things. I glossed over most of the details--they were pretty boring--and gave her a general outline. However, she was well aware of the problems in that region, and she had a fairly good idea of the dangers involved. That was to be expected. Hardly a day passed without an incident being reported in the papers or on the TV. Although she probed, she was very careful, understanding my reluctance to talk about it except in general terms, but I had a growing suspicion that she had learned more than I gave her credit for.

After dinner, she kicked off her shoes, and putting up the pillows, she got comfortable on her bed. I pulled a comfortable looking armchair next to the bed, and settled in. We were both feeling mellow with the food, and we continued with a nice red wine, enjoying the moment. At first, I was reluctant to drink more alcohol. But the wine was good, and I wasn't feeling sleepy or tired, strange as that might be.

She was really good company, and I couldn't help but wonder why she didn't have a man in her life--yes, she was dating somebody, but she gave me the impression that it wasn't yet in a serious stage. I was also curious why she had this interest in me. I wasn't satisfied with her 'soft spot for lovers' explanation. She was not only beautiful but a very kind and generous person, and very interesting.

"What's on your mind?" she broke through my wandering mind.

"You said that you have a soft spot for lovers, but the more I get to know you, the more I'm..."

"Confused? Curious?"

I nodded.

"That's really a question for another time, and is related to her. We can visit that later. However, I need to know something. How well do you know her, or do you think you know her?" she asked.

What's she getting at?

I pondered that question, going over several possibilities. After a while, I sensed what she was getting at... the men in her life.

"I figure she has... perhaps, a reputation?" I replied, choosing my words carefully.

She gave me a long look, trying to get a measure of me, and to make sure we were working from the same page. Satisfied with what she had seen, she asked, "That... doesn't bother you?"

Does it? Did it?

I don't think so... No, I'm not jealous of her other men. If we were committed to each other, it would have been different.

I'm bothered by her frequently indiscriminate and casual attitude towards her relations. I'm more concerned for her well being and about her general unhappiness.

"It does, but not in the sense you think. I'm not jealous of her men. I'm more concerned about her unhappiness."

"And you still love her?"

"I do," I replied. Thinking over about my feelings, I clarified my response. "Umm... I know, I still carry something inside me... for her... but, I've changed... and she's changed, too... I think..."

She nodded, and took a few minutes trying to digest what I said, and make some sense of it. I could see she had come up with a question, but was hesitant to ask, and I wondered what she had stumbled on.

"It's OK! Ask away. If I can't answer or don't want to answer, we'll skip it," I said to put her at ease.

"Mitchell, this is a very personal question," she said. "And if you can answer, then you have to be truthful... and that might be very difficult." The warning in her tone was unmistakable.

I think I know what's coming... Did we ever...

"I think I have a fairly good idea. You're wondering if my feelings are a result of..." I paused trying to find the right expression, and finished with, "an unconsummated relationship?"

She gave a tight smile and nodded.

"No, that's not it. We di--" I caught myself, rephrasing what I was going to say. "We'd been intimate... a few times."

She didn't respond, instead she waited patiently, letting me decide if I wanted to continue and elaborate.

God, this is embarrassing. This is private stuff. I don't talk about it. Especially when it's related to her.

I started hesitantly, clearly ill at ease to talk about such a personal thing.

"We enjoyed it. She... she was happy. It's difficult to explain these things... I've been with a few girls before her... casual stuff. I know I'm not very experienced, not something special in bed. But, I think what we experienced was... more than sex. Don't ask me how I know. She was more experienced than me... it was unmistakable. I came to learn that she enjoyed sex--nothing wrong with that. I'm not scared of a woman who knows how to take her pleasure--I'm not talking about orgasms... women can fake that and fool a man easily. I am not going to claim I can't be fooled... what I'm talking about is the afterwards... what I had seen... what I felt... what we felt... and it wasn't just after-sex glow or something. She was another person... It was as if there was only the two of us... no barriers... and for a day or two she would be much more... loving... closer, caring, happy, content..." I said, searching for the right words, and having difficulty expressing myself.

I took a deep breath, trying to clear the images that were trickling into my mind. "Am I making any sense?" I asked.

"I know this has been difficult for you, but I appreciate your candor. Not every man is willing to admit... Well... you know what I mean," she replied gently.

Giving an apologetic smile, she continued, "This is not really pertinent, but I'm curious... Do you have casual sex?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question... I've already said I had."

"Let me rephrase that. Do you just go to bed with a complete stranger, or do you first get to know them... at least to a certain degree... where you have some kind of connection?"

That question surprised me, and I thought about my answer.

"Mitchell..."

"Mmmm?"

"Mitchell, you don't have to answer that question. You already have."

"Huh?"

Seeing me completely lost, she gave me a sympathetic smile, and tried to explain. "From what you had already told me, and your reaction to my question, I know that you're not really casual about sex. You pick your partner and establish a connection. If there's no connection of some sort, you don't sleep with them. Isn't that right?"

"I-I... I guess... unless I'm intoxicated at the time."

She nodded her understanding, then followed up with another question. "And your partner's pleasure comes first?"

I nodded.

"If nobody has told you before, I'll tell you now. You have the right attitude... the attitude that women look for in men--and find infrequently. You care about your partner, even if you're not in love with the person. You try to make it nice for your partner. Now, if that person is somebody you are in love with... well, I don't have to state the obvious..."

"Thank you... but..."

"Mitch, don't try to sell yourself short. You may be young, and lacking some experience, but you care about your partners. As long as you make sure they're happy, you don't have anything to worry about. Experience comes with time, and opportunity. You may not have had too many opportunities, but you're way ahead of other players. Trust me. I was married and I've known some men." She gave me a look that said she would not accept any objections on her verdict, and I tried to accept it as humbly as possible.

"So, we know something... You really loved her, and still do. Now, I can answer your question... I know her. I'm sorry if I misled you when I said I don't know her very well. But in a way, that's true. I didn't say I don't know her at all. We aren't close or intimate friends, but we've been together on many flights, and it's a small world among the flight crews. So, I got to know her quite a bit. You are unlike any of her... friends," she said.

"You don't have to be diplomatic on my account. I saw it before."

She gave me a sympathetic smile, and continued. "She is pretty lively, which is normal. Especially on long hauls with overnight stays or longer. The crews get to enjoy the places and they like to party. That's what draws the young girls to the profession. Seeing different, exotic places, and meeting people, perhaps a potential husband or something. Once they get in, they realize it's also hard work, and some quit. Some stick around enjoying the work and the opportunities. She enjoys the work, but enjoys the partying as well. Nothing excessive, otherwise your work starts to suffer. And yes, she has a reputation. Not as an easy girl, but she goes through relationships pretty quickly. Sometimes it's a regular passenger on one of the routes, sometimes a pilot or somebody else from the crew."

"I guessed as much."

"Mitch, what I'm getting at is, you don't fit the pattern."

"What do you mean?"

"You are different from her other guys. Some of them were only interested in bedding a girl, any girl. You know the kind of men who are interested in flight attendants, and what they are really interested in. She knew their reputation, but she took them up." She gave me a pointed look, to get her meaning across.

"Then, there were the semi-serious and serious relations. A few wanted to marry her, but some dropped her when they didn't like what they had seen. Sometimes she broke it off," she said. Collecting her thoughts she continued. "She was never concerned about any of her relations. She was angry with a few, but they were assholes. From what I've seen and heard she never gave a second thought to any of the guys. She moved on. She doesn't fit any pattern I had seen before. She's not shopping for a husband. Some girls who go through frequent relations are really shopping, but... she's not."

"I know a bit about that... I think... She wanted attention and to be loved. She couldn't handle being alone. If somebody showed a bit of attention, she would be there. She said as much once, that her biggest fear was being alone. She was also a bit of a wild girl. Heart of the party... and people flocked. Somehow, I always thought that it was an act, perhaps to grab attention. I'm not sure, but I think she was hurt early on... before I met her. I know she went through some guys before me, and there were others when we were breaking up. In the end I was just another one on her list," I told her.

"What else did you do? You two must have had something going?"

"Well, at first we were wary. At least, I was. Compared to how quickly she became friendly with new people, she was very reserved when we first met. We were introduced by a mutual friend and, that first moment, I fell in love with her. Sounds corny, doesn't it?"

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know. It's... It was something I never felt before. It wasn't because she was beautiful. No. I just felt drawn to her. Later, I would come to realize there was... umm... this is difficult to explain, and I don't know how to put it... but I felt a bond... sort of like an invisible cord. She had an influence on me. She didn't even have to touch me to exert that influence. It was something deep in my belly. Whenever she was near me, I felt like I was being pulled into a maelstrom, spinning, losing control... Does this make any sense?"

She nodded.

"Anyways... I tried to keep myself under control and fight that feeling. I don't like to lose control. We started to see each other, mostly within a group of friends, and over a matter of days we were talking, opening up to each other. This was before I started my senior year. I wasn't experienced enough to see some things. I didn't see she wasn't innocent, if you know what I mean. Part of my mind was busy trying to figure out how to finish school, the military service, and find a good job so I could settle down. I knew I wanted to marry her. That was another reason I held myself off from getting intimate with her. I didn't want us to be caught in a... situation," I said, with an embarrassed grin.

"It's understandable, Mitch. Your intentions were honorable," she assured me, then nodded at me to continue.

"There was also a vulnerable side to her. She tried to keep it hidden, but as we talked more I could see glimpses of it. Sometimes she would hint at things, and immediately move onto something else, never allowing me to dig deeper. There was some thing in her eyes; they were... misty... with... dark clouds... most of the time. From the first moment I noticed that, and later, it felt like... like there was an eternal sorrow, somewhere deep inside her. I know that sounds a bit melodramatic, or cliché, but that's what her eyes evoked in me... I didn't realize it at the time, but she had some deep wounds. I was just not experienced enough to read the signs. I did whatever I could to help, from what I could see, but... Anyways, we started to go out together, but still usually in a group with friends. After a while, we got pretty close. She started the intimacy; first a bit of flirting, and then the touching, kissing, and teasing. When we danced, it was really something. She was subtle, but very intimate. Necking followed. Then we had these long walks in the evening along the shore. We would talk, and make out. I could see she was no scared virgin. When she invited me into her bed... Well, then I knew it."