Chapter 7

Bob felt as weak as a kitten as he shuffled out of the recording booth. Charles was there, wearing headphones and humming. He saw Bob and took them off.

"All done?" he asked, looking hopeful.

"Unless you need anything done again," sighed Bob. "How did it sound?"

"Wasn't listening," said Charles. "Mika," he said, holding out the headphones. "He's from Europe. Never heard of him before, but it's great stuff."

"How will you know if we're done or not?" asked Bob.

"I hired an intern. She'll listen to everything we have and start cutting and pasting it all together. If she thinks we need to do anything over, I'll call you."

"Sounds good to me," said Bob.

"Bob!" came Layla's complaining voice. "Aren't you going to get a table?"

"Oh ... yeah," sighed Bob.

He turned around and went back in. Charles looked puzzled, and got up. He was almost to the door when Layla came through, dragging a table.

"Where'd that come from?" asked Charles, clearly confused.

"We needed to borrow it," she said, as if that explained everything. "We're going to put them back."

"Them?"

"Bob's bringing the other one."

Charles looked into the booth. He saw the futon mattress lying on the floor and closed his eyes. He backed out.

"I don't want to know," he mumbled.

Outside, with their final pay in their hands, Layla faced Bob.

"We need to talk," she said.

"I know."

"Come over at eight-thirty," she said. "Aidan will be in bed by then."

"OK," he agreed.

Bob got there at eight-thirty sharp. Actually, he got there early and then waited until it was time to knock. She opened the door wearing terrycloth shorts and a different tank top than she'd worn earlier that day. She was braless again.

"Come in," she said, standing back.

She led him to the living room. Her computer was on and she went to it and pushed some buttons. The screen went blank.

"Doing some work?" he asked.

"Yes." That was all she said ... just "Yes."

He sat down and she paced. He didn't say anything.

She froze, and pivoted on one heel and one toe, to face him.

"You said you love me."

"I do," he said.

"Then why are you being so mule-headed?" she asked.

"I'm not trying to be mule-headed," he said. "I'm trying to be responsible."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"Sit down," he said.

"No."

"Layla ... sit down."

"Why?"

"Because you're all worked up and you don't need to be."

"How can you say that?" she asked. She came over and plopped onto the couch ... not next to him, but at the other end.

"I can say that because I've been around long enough to know how unlikely it is for someone like you and someone like me to last a long time."

She folded her arms.

"Do you have any idea how full of shit you are, or is this just more philosophizing?"

"You're young," he said patiently. "You have your whole life ahead of you."

"You're fifty-seven," she shot back. "You have twenty or thirty years left. That's longer than most couples stay together."

"See what I mean?" he said. "You're already thinking of us as a couple, and thinking about us staying together."

"Of COURSE I am, you idiot!" she said heatedly. "I TOLD you I don't hop in the sack with any old guy."

"I know that," he said, a pained expression on his face. "I don't hop in the sack lightly either."

"Well then?" She frowned. "What's the problem?"

He ticked things off on his fingers.

"One ... in ten years I'll be an old man ... a real gramps, probably. You'll be in the middle of your childbearing years, vibrant, beautiful, achingly desirable, and you'll be stuck with me."

She opened her mouth but he cut her off.

"Two ... I'm already only capable of a decent erection maybe once a day. Twice if you're involved, but this is all still new. Who knows when I won't be able to be the man you deserve?"

He went on before she could say anything.

"Three ... Aidan deserves to have a dad who can run and play with him, and teach him football and baseball or whatever. He deserves a dad he can introduce without people thinking he's confused, because the man with him is obviously his grandfather."

He kept going.

"Four ... I don't have money. I get by OK, but the way I live isn't right for a young woman with a little boy. You can just do a lot better than me, Layla."

"Are you done?" she asked.

"Yes."

She ticked things off on her fingers too.

"One ... I don't care if I only get five years with you before you're a drooling idiot. You're an idiot already. At least you aren't drooling yet.

"Two ... On your worst day, you're the best lover I've ever had. Before I met you I went without decent sex for three years. If I get three years of your lovemaking, it will be three years I'll treasure forever.

"Three ... Aidan has a dad who loves him. He's in Aidan's life and I hope he'll always be in his life. I don't know if he'll be interested in sports or not. If he is, fine. That's what coaches are for. But you'd be another role model for him. I want him to see men like you ... a man who can be sensitive and thoughtful ... and who is caring and brave and intelligent at the same time. You are all of those things. If you don't croak on me for fifteen years, Aidan will have grown up with such a man as his role model and maybe be out there being that kind of man too.

"Four ... I don't have money either. I probably never will, because it's just not all that important to me. I do know two can live together cheaper than two can live apart.

"Five ... I love you. I didn't start out to love you, but I do. I can't help that. I can't stop loving you. You came along and made my life a lot happier, and now you just want to wander off and pull the rug out from under my feet?"

"You don't even know my last name," said Bob.

"I don't NEED to know your last name!" she almost shouted. "I know what kind of man you are. I know I love you. I know you love me. That's all that's important right now. Other things will become important later, but right now I have to know that you won't go riding off into the sunset like some stupid hero who THINKS his work is done. Your work is NOT done, Bob."

Bob sat there. The pain he'd been feeling in his stomach for the last twenty-four hours began to leach away. He'd done what he thought was the right thing to do. Given her an out. Let her pull away. Given her a chance to break free and get her head straightened out. He'd known there wasn't anything wrong with her head. In fact, there wasn't anything wrong with her at all. She was about as perfect a woman as he'd ever met. He hadn't expected that when they'd first met. He hadn't known what the mohawk and tattoos meant. Now he knew they were just an expression. Some people wore certain fashions to make a statement. She used her hair and body as her artist's easel.

He looked at her. She was serious. She wasn't some starry eyed little girl, with a crush on her first lover. And she HAD had the chance to pull back. If she was doing this ... it meant something.

"Don't you think it's a little premature to talk about moving in together?" he asked.

"No."

"Will you promise to be honest with me if you're attracted to a younger man?"

"Are you TRYING to make me throw you out?" she asked, her voice rising.

"No," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm sorry. I don't know how to act."

"Just be yourself, Bob," she said, calming down. "That's the man I fell in love with. I know it's weird. I know it's scary. But I also know I love being around you and I love the look in your eyes when I'm naked and acting naughty. I want that, Bob. I want a lot of that."

"You'll get your IUD replaced?"

"I already have an appointment next Thursday," she said.

"You love me?"

"I DO!" she said, sounding like Megan.

Bob wanted to negotiate. Layla said that was fine, as she took off her tank top. While Bob told her what he wanted to negotiate about, she took off her shorts. Then she pulled him up, and to her bedroom, where she took HIS clothes off while he still tried to get her to agree to some things.

An hour later, she used Megan's lines on him, asking him if he was going to cum in her and telling him how much she wanted to feel that. She'd already had three orgasms, so Bob gave up and let her have it her way. Both of them were tired from being tense all day. Sleep came easily.

The next morning she wouldn't let him get out of bed.

"We don't have to go to work," she said, lying half on top of him.

"Aidan needs breakfast," he said.

"When he's hungry, he'll get up. I need to be serviced."

"Serviced?" His voice went up an octave.

"You know ... made happy," she said, kissing his chest.

Bob wasn't sure he could make her happy, but he tried. He tried really hard.

"You made me VERY happy," she sighed, lying half on him again.

They heard little boy noises and she was up in a flash, leaving him there. He thought about taking a nap. Making her happy had been hard work.

He sat up. The philosopher in him made him examine things. It hadn't been hard work. It had been strenuous ... but it was a blast. Anything that much fun couldn't be considered work. The philosopher in him reminded him there was unfinished business. He got up.

She was in the kitchen, feeding Aidan.

"Hi, Bob," chirped the little boy.

"Hi, sport," he said.

"My name is Aidan!" said Aidan.

"I know," Bob told him. "I'll remember." He looked at Layla. "I need to talk to you."

"We already talked," she said.

"I know, but we didn't talk about everything."

"We have years to talk about everything," she said. "You need to go get some stuff and bring it over here so you have clothes to change into and all that."

Aidan needed attention, and Bob decided this wasn't the time to push it. He'd go get a few things and bring them back. He'd only bring enough that if ... later ... it was necessary ... he could load it all into his car again.

She wanted to go to Chucky Cheese again, to celebrate. That just extended his angst, but he tried to have fun. He couldn't tell her there. She had no way home other than his car and it was possible she wouldn't want to ride in it again after she knew.

He decided to play some games with Aidan. Together, they won some tickets and traded them in for a cheap prize.

When she came back from putting Aidan to bed that night, he knew it was time.

"I have to tell you something," he said.

"You love me?" She smiled brightly.

"I do," he said. "But I haven't told you everything about me and there's something you have to know."