Chapter 2

I was fucked.

I turned up the wiper blades, to fight the constant splatter of snowflakes onto the windshield, and cursed my indecision, weakness and my constant foot-dragging.

The weather had been fine back in the Apple, and traffic wasn't bad on that late Tuesday morning, but still I'd taken one of the slowest departures from that city. Every traffic light found me lost in thought, fighting with myself to turn around and go back to Carla and throw our plan of a clean break to the four winds. Usually someone else would help my resolve by using their car horn; once there was actually no one behind me and it took a beat cop tapping on my window to make sure I was okay.

But I finally got clear of New York City; a place where Carla and I had made so many memories together. It seemed like once I'd crossed the Hudson and entered New Jersey, I was released from the near-inexorable grasp of our past, of that constant compulsion to turn around and race back to her, and spoil this clean break we were making.

Having crossed my personal Rubicon, I made good time through the garden state, and through Pennsylvania, stopping for lunch in a place called Snow Shoe, and checked in with my mother to reassure her – and myself – of my progress.

But once I'd left PA for the buckeye state, and my route took me close to Lake Erie, it started to snow. And here I was, driving slower than expected – I hadn't driven long-distance in years, and bad-weather driving? It just wasn't going well.

As it began to get dark, I realized I wouldn't reach my goal of Toledo by suppertime, and with it pitch black with only halos of snowflakes in my headlights to see, I pulled off the turnpike at the first exit that had that 'accommodations' icon on the sign. Soon I was presented with a series of motels just lining the road heading north from the highway to Sandusky. Proceeding slowly up the snow-covered road, I thought about it, and selected the first one on my left – if I was to set off the next morning, even if the storm had cleared, there'd probably be 'rush hour' traffic, and it'd be easier turning right to get back to the highway than cut left out across both directions.

There were a fair number of cars in the lot, but the lit sign still indicated vacant rooms, so I relaxed a little and pulled into the nearest spot to the front desk entrance.

After some rummaging, I'd pulled out my coat, donned it, and pulled up the hood to protect me from the elements.

The wind didn't seem as bad as I thought it was while driving, but the snow was thick and accumulating quickly; I looked back as I grabbed the door handle, and my furthest footprints had all but disappeared.

Delighting in the warm refuge of the reception lobby, I stretched out the cramps from driving for hours, and then stepped up to the vacant registration desk. A ring of the bell labelled for this purpose roused a woman from in the back office. She rubbed her eyes as she stepped up and greeted me. I quickly paid for a room for the night, was informed that the satellite tv and the wifi were out due to the storm, and given a key. I thanked her and she returned to her office and presumably resumed her nap.

Checking the layout of the motel, it was easier to leave the car where it was and get just the essentials and take them to my room through the front lobby. One quick chilly trip, and I was setting up in a modest room and relaxing in my alternate safe haven for the night. I confirmed that the tv was only capable of showing 'no signal' blue screens, and my laptop couldn't find any wireless connections, so I sat on the bed and picked up the hotel phone from the bedside table. I used a calling card to put any long-distance charges directly to me, instead of letting them burden the hotel ... who would likely then charge me exorbitantly for the inconvenience. After a couple of rings, my mother answered the phone.

"Mom! It's Nate. I know I'm a little late, but there's a snowstorm blowing into Ohio off Lake Erie; it slowed me down and I'm camping down in ... Sandusky, I think – didn't make it to Toledo."

"No, I'm fine, just got slowed by the storm. Car's handling just fine – even in bad weather, luckily!"

"Yeah, after we're done, I'm gonna brave it out there and get some supper – I think just some junk food from whatever burger chain's closest; 'Any port in a storm' after all."

"Yeah, I'll call Carla after I eat – just wanted to keep you up to date. I think this'll blow over before morning, but even so, I'll probably need another day to get there; maybe a hotel near Davenport."

"Oh right! Thanks, I'll call the hotel in Toledo and cancel my reservation; I hadn't thought of that in all the last-minute plans."

"Okay, again I'm warm and comfy now, and it's good to know you're fine; I'll call you tomorrow when I start off again, okay? Good – love you, ma. Bye!"

As per her suggestion, I called and cancelled my other reservation, then unpacked some clothes before bundling up again to go get some quick hot food.

It was as I expected, a burger chain was the closest source of food for quite a ways according to the tourist maps of the area, so I settled for that, ate at the fast food place, then drove back to the hotel.

Lounging on the bed, I dug my calling card out of my wallet and called the number to what was recently my residence.

It rang and rang and went to the old-fashioned answering machine Carla kept to screen calls – which she'd likely do since she wouldn't recognize the number coming up on the phone's display.

It was then that I discovered that she hadn't changed the greeting, and I listened to myself apologize that Nate and/or Carla couldn't answer the phone and then I asked myself to leave a message.

I complied saying: "Carla, pick up! It's Nate; I'm using the hotel phone because my cell isn't getting a very good signal-"

"Nate! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine; just a little delayed by a lake effect storm, tho – I didn't get to Toledo. Near Sandusky actually."

"Oh, pity. But 'best laid plans', I guess?"

"Yeah, this'll probably tack on another half-day or so. So how's the Apple; falling apart without me?"

"Yeah; the Chrysler building imploded on hearing that you left, and Lady Liberty tossed her torch and book away, and is sitting on her pedestal, sobbing!"

We both laughed. "No, it's going fine – routine day at the restaurant; I did a little shopping to try to find things to fill the gaps you left..."

"Good. Hate to leave scars, after all." I chuckled to myself. "So... all the gaps, you said," I asked with a leer evident in my voice.

Carla responded with exaggerated indifference. "Yes, all of them – I am a lonely divorcee after all, and I do need companionship on these cold winter nights all alone in that big, empty bed."

"Rebounding already? Well, that's good to see I guess."

"Would you like to say hello to the one who's going to keep me company tonight? He's right here."

I was puzzled and a tiny bit uncomfortable, but kept up a brave face. "Gladly – I must thank this kind gentleman for staving off a pretty maiden's loneliness!"

"Okay, here he is." And after a moment, I was presented with a mechanical buzzing sound. My eyebrows knit for several seconds as I puzzled over this, and then the penny dropped.

"Oh, you! CARLA!!!"

She came back on the phone, giggling. "Admit it, I had you going – you thought I'd actually gone out and picked up some random stranger for a one-night stand the very day our divorce is made final!"

I had to stifle laughter of my own ... I could still hear the vibrator in the background. "Okay, at first I was just playing along, but I did get a little worried after a bit. You got me fair and square. But a vibrator?"

"Come on, like there's a flesh-and-blood man who could actually take your place? Properly, I mean?"

My voice became soothing. "Well, I'd say there's plenty of decent guys out there who could. It'll just take some time to find them."

"Yeah, maybe ... after I'm through grieving over the death of our marriage for a while."

"I'm sorry, Carla – but you realized it as much as I did – you don't want kids, and I do, and if we tried to stay together, whatever happened would make one of us unhappy, and the other would be unhappy because they'd made their closest one unhappy. I could forgo children, but you'd always worry whether I was sad or resenting you or something, and vice versa – even if you were on board with bearing a child, I'd never be comfortable."

"Yeahhhh, I know, but it doesn't mean I don't miss you."

"And I you, love. Hell, life just isn't going to be as fun without you."

"Fun? Stop, you're making me blush!"

"Well, maybe you should after some of the things you instigated! You know that part of the reason I had to leave New York is because the was nowhere I could go that didn't remind me of some time we had sex there!"

"Heh, okay – we were pretty randy newlyweds."

"Newlyweds? You have an odd definition for that word! I remember just a couple of years ago, when the Intrepid Air Museum got their Enterprise orbiter exhibit set up, you had to go and bribe the night watchmen – plural, might I add – to let us sneak in so we could join that really small group of people who 'have had sex on the space shuttle'!"

Her reply was uproarious laughter. Hearing it made my cheeks ache from smiling and my heart swell in my chest. "You know? I could have gotten a discount if we'd let them watch!"

"No!"

"The guy offered it as a joke, and even if he was serious I wouldn't have, but I meant to mention it – I knew you'd find it funny – but I didn't want to break the mood. Then I forgot about it until you reminded me."

"Oh ... wow. I ... well, you get my point, right? Last week, I thought I finally found someplace quiet to just not be reminded of you – some new juice bar – but as I looked out the window to people-watch, I realized I was sitting across the street from that art gallery; you know the one, where you talked me into buying that GOD AWFUL painting!"

"Excuse me? I seem to recall that that 'god-awful painting' is sitting in the back seat of your car."

"Yes, because you made ME buy the god-awful painting; it's my god-awful painting. I had to TAKE my god-awful painting, because it's hard to complain about OWNING a god-awful painting when it's hanging on someone else's wall!"

I evoked more laughter from her; I loved that ... and I was gonna damn well miss it.

"Nate?"

"Yeah, hun?"

"I ... I don't wanna rehash sore subjects, but do you really need to have kids? I mean, if you were willing to wait, I might-"

"Oh, honey ... I'd love to, but ... well, it's not like 'I MUST MAKE BABY NOW!!', but I'm not getting any younger. I'm forty-two; even if I were to drive home through this blizzard, and take you in a manly way in the front foyer and fuck a baby into you-" I barely registered Carla moaning a little at that moment "-it'd ... I'd be almost forty-three when our child was born. I'd be sixty-one when our son or daughter graduated high-school."

"That doesn't sound too bad?"

"Okay, how about this, when they'd be seven, full of energy and running around, you and I would be fifty – or pushing it – can you see a fifty-year-old me playing catch and giving piggyback rides?"

Carla said nothing for a few moments. "Yeah, I'm sorry I stole away your youth, Nate."

"No! It's not like that, honey; it's just I feel like if I don't do it now, I'll miss 'the window'? And you don't want kids and I don't want to force you into it-"

"Well, to be fair, I wouldn't mind you forcefully trying," Carla murmured breathily. I shivered and felt a twitch in my pants.

"I ... oooh, um"

"You don't want to make me go through bearing a child, and I ... yeah, I have to thank you for that."

"Heh – you know I get kidney stones; they say that's a little bit worse than having a kid via natural childbirth. If it was even half as bad, I'd never wish something like that on you! I love you too much, Carla."

"Oh, it still sounds weird that you're leaving me because you care for me so much ... or that I'm letting you go because I care so much for you, too."

"We never do seem to do things the easy way."

"Did, lover. But you're right – it worked for us with the restaurant, though."

That shifted the conversation to more mundane things, and we became joint owners of a business discussing things that had happened in the day since I'd been gone.

"Okay then. I guess..."

"Yeah. Um, well the storm's going to prolong my trip – I was supposed to get to Ames tomorrow evening, but I'll have to hit up a motel somewhere in Indiana or Illinois now; I guess I'll call you tomorrow evening when I get in?"

"Okay, Nate. G ... good-bye. I love you, and I hope you find your ... um, would 'brood mare' be a mean thing to say?"

I snorted. "Well, maybe to her face, but I know what you mean. I hope you find some sterile stud who's fun and funny soon, too. Wait! I mean-"

"I know what you mean, you silly man!" We both laughed for a few moments, the tension of ending our contact eased.

"Tomorrow."

"Yeah, tomorrow; I'll wait for your call. Rest well!"

"And you."

We hung up.

It was then that I realized I was pretty bored; it was still only about eight in the evening, and I wasn't very tired. The storm was still raging outside, and that was cutting into my usual activities since the TV couldn't show anything, the internet was down, and my cell signal was spotty. I twiddled my thumbs and thought about books and things in the car, but quailed at the thought of rummaging around in the trunk or backseat during a blizzard.

I lay on the bed and sighed, then shrugged. Pulling the sheets down, I slipped off my shoes and pants and dress shirt, and went to bed in my underwear and socks, and tried not to think of Carla.

It took a fair while to nod off.

I was muzzily awakening from an already-forgotten dream. I'd been dozing on and off for a few hours, but this wasn't the usual 'no, we don't want to sleep right now' of my body staying awake.

I listened, wondering what roused me. After a few moments, I was patience and attentiveness were rewarded. There came a rhythmic thumping against the wall, and – if I concentrated and listened really closely – it was accompanied by a barely audible moaning and murmuring, which made me grin.

I lay back and 'enjoyed the show' for what seemed like a half-hour, having to shift my stiffening cock so it pointed down the leg of my boxers. A couple of times I thought back to making love with Carla, and a couple of times I fantasized about some future mystery woman taking my seed.

Unfortunately, my neighbours seemed to finish before I could really get into being a voyeur, and I was left high and dry, so to speak. I grabbed at my phone and checked the time; it was a little before midnight. There was better signal on my phone, but the bars were still flickering on and off. I got up and checked out the window; the storm seemed ... less 'dense' but still blowing a lot and the cars were featureless bumps in the parking lot.

Sitting back on the bed and dropping my phone on the bedside table again, I sighed and took stock; I'd napped enough to recover from the tiring drive, and I wasn't sleepy. Also, listening to my neighbours had made me somewhat horny.

"Maybe a good hot shower will relax me ... and, of course, I can always..." I frowned as an image of Carla stroking my hard cock appeared in my mind. "Hell, maybe a cold shower!"

I stood and tugged off my socks, and started pulling my undershirt off. As it was up over my head, I was startled by the abrupt sound of music.

It ... it was the ringtone of my phone – but my phone didn't have a song-ringtone? I stopped and listened:

♫I have to fake it

I'd leave if I could

I'm not in love

But the sex is good♫

which then repeated.

I yanked my shirt clear of my head and arms and rushed over to pick up the phone. The display showed "Your Ex" and Carla's face, sticking out here tongue and winking. The number was the phone at the condo. I marvelled at this for a second then hurriedly answered.

"Carla? Hello?"

"-ate! I mi--ou. Wait, are y--llo?"

"Carla? You're breaking up! The storm's still messing with cell service!"

"Wha- Na- I can-" and the call disconnected.

I reached for the hotel phone, cursed and grabbed my pants to find my wallet and calling card, ran through the process to call out, and rang Carla up at the condo.

Busy – she must still be trying to call my out-of-service cell.

I tried again; busy.

Crossing my fingers that she'd slow down and wait, I tried a third time ... I got through, and the phone barely rang once before she picked up.

"Hello, Nate?"

"Yeah – hotel phone again; storm's still bad. So," I continued, not letting her talk, "you got hold of my phone and set up custom ringtones? I like the new profile pic."

I could almost hear her blushing. "Yeahhhh, I heard the song something like a week ago during a cab ride; looked it up, and well, it kinda reminded me of us and all this."

I laughed to show her I wasn't angry. "Slipped my phone away today while we were packing, didn't you?"

"Yeah; it wasn't hard."

"Well it is now."

"Oh! Then perhaps you should do as mother nature intended?"

"Eh?"

Her voice got sultry. "I've thought it over, if you want kids, then it's only fair that I should get to enjoy the making of them, stud." My breath caught in surprise.

"Really? Are you sure? We went thro-"

"Just tonight; you're going to breed your mate ... you're going to fuck me senseless and then fill my fertile pussy with your hot, thick, virile seed."