Chapter 3: The Aftermath

Marge was crying when she woke up. With tear blurred vision she looked around the room, all was back to normal; the wall was now just a wall, there was no sign of Bill, a Yule log program was playing on the television. It had all been a dream. But, she recognized the truth the dream had contained. She began to pull herself together. Getting up she went into the bathroom and washed her face, this helped to calm her down. Returning to the sofa she sat down and began to think things over. She wanted to change the direction of her life. It didn't matter if it had been a dream or a vision, it had been a revelation she couldn't ignore.

She wasn't sleepy; four in the morning and she was wide awake. No time like the present to get started she figured and went to get her laptop. On her way back she glanced at the end table next to the chair Bill's ghost had sat in. She saw a wet circle on it, like the type you find when somebody sets a glass of cold liquid down without a coaster; or a scotch on the rocks. She froze, not knowing what to think. It couldn't have been real, but she had no explanation for that wet spot. She averted her eyes, refusing to look at it again. It was simply too frightening.

Sitting down on the sofa, she turned on the laptop and went to work. While listening to the Christmas carols playing on the Yule Log she began to formulate a plan. Researching on the internet, checking her cash availabilities, crunching numbers her idea started to take shape. She wondered when she should start physically. Would today be too soon? She didn't know if Jill was working tonight or not and whether it would matter. Bill hadn't given her any indication. Ever since she'd seen the wet spot on the end table, she was assuming it had all happened, that Bill really had been there.

She made her decision, she would take care of Jill tomorrow, Roger would be today's project. Her research concentrated on his problem and the answers seemed to fall quickly in place. Now all she needed to do was convince him. She suddenly felt tired. Logging off, Marge went into the bedroom to take a nap. As she lay down, she wondered if she was going to have another visitation. She needn't have worried, she slept soundly and undisturbed.

She awoke rested and refreshed, ready to tackle her new project; projects actually, there were multiple parts to it. First she had to contact Roger. Dialing the cell phone number he'd given her yesterday, she hoped he was available. She wanted to get started. Finally, a tired voice answered.

"Hello."

"Roger, this is Marge Wilson. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," the tone was quizzical. "What's up?"

"I've been mulling over your loan application and I came up with an idea. I know it's a holiday, but if you've nothing going on, I'd like to come over and talk about it."

"Yeah," he responded warily. "You pretty much made it clear how you felt yesterday."

"Things change sometimes."

"How so?"

"I'm a business woman; let's say I see an opportunity for both of us to turn a profit. Now if you're not doing anything, I could come over and you can hear me out. Interested?"

"Yeah, OK," his tone was now skeptical. "I'm at the bar, cleaning up after last night, doing a few repairs. I'll be here for a while. Know where it is?"

"You gave me the address yesterday. I'll be there in about an hour. See you then."

Hanging up, Marge went to the kitchen and microwaved her turkey dinner. She thought it would have been nice if she could have taken one with her for Roger, but she didn't know where there was anywhere open on Christmas day to buy one. Her meal finished, she showered, got dressed, and headed out to find the bar. She located it easily, as she parked her car in front she couldn't help but think the building was more impressive than the bar front. That was good; the structure was a part of her idea.

Getting out of her car, she went over and tried the door, it opened easily. The interior was not bad in an old school way. It was a classic American saloon. In the dim light she saw Roger at the back bar with a notebook. She assumed he was doing a liquor inventory. She walked over towards him, set her attaché case on the bar and sat down.

"Hi," she smiled, "Merry Christmas."

He leaned on the bar opposite her. "Merry Christmas to you too, now, what's this big idea of yours?"

"Want to get right to the point, huh? OK, why don't you come around to this side and sit down for a minute? I'll fill you in."

As she watched him walk around the bar and come towards her, she saw skepticism written on his face; also more than a trace of hostility. He sat on the stool next to her and gestured with his hand for her to begin.

"OK then, I did some checking on-line last night. Seems like your landlord has put the building up for sale a few times." He nodded his head. "I think he's probably still willing to sell."

"Marge, that doesn't help me. I can't afford to buy this place."

"No, but I can."

"Well how does that affect me?"

"Because, what I'm proposing is a partnership in the bar."

He quickly interrupted, "You want to buy into my bar?"

The look on his face changed to unreceptive concern. Marge held her hand up in a gesture that requested calm.

"It will still be your bar. We'll set up an LLC, you maintain controlling interest; 51%-$49% ownership, your favor." She paused for a moment, "No, 60-40 if you prefer. I don't know anything about the bar business, but I figure I should get some compensation for my capital outlay. But as a partner, do you really think I'm going to charge much in rent? I was thinking about a dollar a month. Just think about the savings in rent alone, frees up one hell of a lot of money, no?"

"Good point," now he was more contemplative. "But what's in this for you?"

"The building, supposedly there's five apartments on the top two floors. I take over one, rent out four, beats the shit out of paying rent. Real estate is always a good investment. Have you seen what condition the apartments are in by the way? Do they need much in the way of work?"

"They're not bad, they'd need some work. They were refurbished about twenty or thirty years ago, I believe, so they've had a lot of wear and tear. I never paid that much attention."

"Well, that's my plan. Now tell me, what will you be needing down here?"

"A little bit of everything." He seemed to be warming up to the new Marge. "Replace the kitchen equipment, flooring; I'd like to restain and varnish the woodwork, paint the walls, things like that. There's a lot of small things but they add up. I've a large side room on the other side of this wall. It's not a load bearing partition, so I'd like to get rid of it and replace it with a low divider, about three and a half foot high, with maybe latticework on top. You know, open up the room, but still keeping the bar kind of separated."

She nodded her head, "Yeah, I can see that."

"This place turns a profit, but barely. But if I start getting more live entertainment in here and build up the menu, I think it can be a gold mine."

"So, we've both laid out our plans, and I don't see any conflicts. I don't expect you to commit today, think it over. I'll talk to you in a couple of days. One way or another, I am going to make an offer on the building."

"Marge, what's changed? You almost seem like a different person from yesterday."

She couldn't tell him about the dream. "I just couldn't help but think I turned you down because of things you said when I got married. Then I rethought the whole thing."

"I was young and hurt. I never really meant those things. I was just striking out at you."

"I know. And yesterday I struck back, it wasn't right. Later, I got thinking about the two of us. From what you said I gather you're alone these days." He nodded in affirmation. "Me too, that's not good for either of us. I got to thinking it would be nice if we were friends again. That has nothing to do with this deal. That offer will stand if you want it."

"Yeah, I thought about the old days too, always felt like I lost a good friend. It would be good to reconnect again."

"I kind of hoped you'd feel that way." With that she got up off the barstool.

Assuming the conversation was over, Roger also stood up still facing her. A grin spread across Marge's face as she reached over and grabbed the front of his sweatshirt.

"Well guess what ol' buddy; I haven't had a man in seven years and I sure could use one now. If you'd like to sweeten the deal for me, come right ahead."

Thinking she was joking, Roger laughed and tried to side step her, but she moved with him blocking his way. At this point her grin was infectious.

"Oh no: look here Roger, I'm hot, horny, and yours for the taking. If you want to help me to get back in the saddle, make your move."

She stepped close to him and raising herself up on her toes, kissed him on the lips. Taken by surprise, it took a few seconds before he responded. When he did he was warm and receptive. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Marge loosened her grip on his shirt and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Roger, I've cut myself off from everyone for far too long. I want back in and I want you to be the one to help me get there. I don't know if anything will come of this and I guess I don't care, but it has to be better than what I've got now."

She felt his hand rest on the side of her head in a caring gesture. Marge released his sweatshirt and hugged him tightly against her. They stood there clinging to each other for several minutes, then Marge raised her head and looked up at him. He leaned down and kissed her hard and passionately. With their mouths pressed firmly together, their tongues began to caress and stroke each other lovingly. Marge could feel her pussy growing damp as she became fully aroused, she was also aware of his erect cock straining against the material of his pants. When their lips parted she looked at him.