Prologue: Early May

Sunday

This 'homecoming' weekend was not turning out to be the nostalgic interlude Greg had hoped for. Going to the reunion had been a mistake. He had missed his five-year high school class reunion to finish preparing for his Masters Degree orals. When the ten-year came around, he was out of the country negotiating the sale of the software business he had built. For the last three years, he had been completely in control of his own time, so when the invitation for the fifteen-year celebration arrived, he thought "Why not?" While he was in town, he would also visit with the Randolphs.

The 'Why not?' was because it was like walking into a crowd of strangers. The elapsed time had just been too long, and he no longer had anything in common with those who had been his closest friends. Greg was certainly not shy among strangers. In fact, he was quite the opposite. He could be comfortable in most social situations, and was generally a dominant presence when he wanted to be. The problem here was finding some way to connect with his old classmates and teammates. He was absolutely amazed at the paths many of them had taken. Dissolution seemed to be the order of the day. Of course, given his own strict physical regimen, he was undoubtedly extra critical, but still... These people were only 32 or 33 years old, and middle aged spread was the norm. Only one or two of the cheerleaders looked like they could even squeeze into their old outfits, and the football team was no better.

Greg was, as usual, carefully understated about what had happened to him. When questioned, he admitted he had started a successful software business and then sold it. When pushed about his financial status, he carefully avoided any specifics. The fact that he wore no obviously expensive clothes or jewelry, and that he had arrived in his two-year-old Grand Cherokee took the edge off much of the questioning. Most classmates had heard nothing of his success and were much more interested in talking about themselves.

Any feelings of superiority Greg may have had were quashed when the conversations turned to family. There was at least the usual percentage of divorces among the group, but there was also some sincere bragging about offspring - there really were some traditional nuclear families represented. All of which served to accentuate the loneliness that had been growing in him since his divorce. If he was honest with himself, he would admit that loneliness was one reason for not throwing away the reunion invitation out of hand.

Well, it was early Sunday afternoon. The reunion was mercifully over, and he had just pulled up in front of the Randolphs' house. This wasn't going to be easy, either. He had not seen them for five years. How could he have let that happen? They had been substitute parents for him - much better than his own. How could he apologize? The large bouquet on the passenger seat seemed pathetically trivial. As he walked toward the front door, he tried, but could not avoid a glance three doors down - his old home. An almost palpable chill rippled up his back as he saw the familiar, yet strange, house. He steeled his mind against the flood of painful memories that threatened to overtake him.

Before he could reach for the bell, the door was opened by Jim Randolph, beaming, hand extended. "Greg! We're so glad you're here." As Greg shook his hand, Jim stepped aside and Caroline stepped forward to give Greg a hug and a kiss on the cheek. As he pulled his head back, he saw that her eyes were moist.

"We have really missed you!" she said softly.

"I am so ashamed! How can I ever apologize for staying away so long?"

"That doesn't matter now. You're back! Oh, what a gorgeous bouquet! Let me get them in a vase right away. Come on in." As she walked off toward the kitchen, Greg stood transfixed. Jim saw has reaction and chuckled softly.

"Sorry!" Greg said, sheepishly.

"It's OK. I do that myself all the time, even after knowing her 40 years. Hey, you look a little sad."

"It's because there is only one Caroline, and I'm afraid I'll never find anyone even close." Ever since childhood, she had represented Greg's female ideal: elegance, class, warmth, caring, loyalty, and as he matured enough to sense it, strong but contained sexuality. Now in her mid-fifties, she had never had either the centerfold or runway model looks. Still, he thought her as achingly beautiful as any woman he had ever known. Had his ill-fated marriage suffered because Jenna could never be Caroline?

"I know I am the luckiest son-of-a-bitch alive, but, hey, let's not start this visit on a morose note," Jim quipped. "We've got a lot of catching up to do. What can I get you to drink? Are you still tee-totaling?"

With that, the conversation proceeded through drinks and dinner as if the separation had been five days instead of five years. Some of the topics were painful. Caroline finally asked, "What went wrong between you and Jenna, anyway? I thought you two were so well matched."

"We were great for a few years. We had nothing but each other, but it seemed to be enough. Then the company really started to take off, and I was working terribly hard. I really tried to make time for us and I thought she understood. The sad thing is she didn't get angry with me or pressure me to back off. She just found someone else, or someone else found her. I was so destroyed it almost ruined the business. If only she could have waited one more year! When I cashed in, it almost seemed like a hollow victory - it could never make up for the failure of my marriage. I guess that's why I have chosen to live so no one would guess how much money I really have. I feel almost like I haven't earned it."

Caroline, as usual, took a comforting tack. "I know it's sad, but divorces are awfully common among successful entrepreneurs. You achieved something really significant. I'm sure you tried your best to burn the candle at both ends."

"You bet I tried! I nearly killed myself. No sleep, no exercise, rotten eating, living on caffeine. Ever since I was old enough to think about marriage and family, I was determined not to repeat the dysfunctional mess of my so-called family. It was going to be what you guys have! But... I failed. I guess part of why I've been away so long is that I wanted to emulate you guys. I failed and I was ashamed."

"Where is Jenna now?"

"Oh, she's still in the suburbs, not far from my place."

"Is she married?"

"No. After our divorce, the guy just disappeared. Guess he was more interested in hunting than keeping. We still see each other occasionally, though I find it pretty painful."

"What is she doing?"

"She is just putting in time at fairly menial administrative jobs. You know she quit college when we married, and I could not get her to finish. She just seems to be wandering. Acquaintances have seen her frequenting pickup bars. I had wanted to give her a decent settlement - the company was already doing fairly well by then. My lawyer insisted that I go for the infidelity angle. I was hurt and angry enough to agree. After the sale, I had wanted to give her something, but he threatened to quit as my lawyer if I did. I've talked to her parents, and they are really distressed about her situation."

"Are you still in love with her?"

"Oof! Caroline, you never did dance around the tough stuff, did you? I would never tell anyone but you two, but yes, I still am. The pain and anger are still huge, but underneath, somewhere, there is still love. It really doesn't matter, though. I just need to grow out of it." There was a protracted silence as they sipped after-dinner coffee. "Now, tell me the news of your family."

"Laura is now a full professor at Arizona State. Her husband, Rick, is working his way up the pilot ranks. He is still with the commuter branch, but is hoping to be called up by the big carrier yet this year. They waited longer to have kids, so their two are just four and six. We wish they weren't so far away, but at least with his airline perks, they can visit quite often. We have been spending a week at a mountain cabin with them every summer."

"As you probably remember, Ted & Kathy and their kids live rather close to you. It is nice having them just an hour and a half away. Their marriage seems to be good, and we enjoy some great times with them. Ted has a good chance to be the youngest partner ever in his accounting firm. The oldest of their three children is in Junior High. She is something of a musical prodigy, and we often drive up to see her perform."

"I wish I had known. I would have loved to join you and see Ted again. I don't think I have seen Kathy since my wedding."

"We thought many times of calling you and stopping by. We knew you had been through a lot of upheaval. We feared you might have been upset with us for some reason."

"Oh, Caroline, that could never happen! I have no excuse for not making contact myself. I hope you can forgive me."

"No apology necessary." There was another lag in the conversation. Greg mused on how they responded in conversation almost as one person - sometimes one speaking, sometimes the other, not really mattering which. After a bit, he spoke up again.

"Um, you didn't mention Shannon."

"We weren't sure you wanted to talk about her," came from Jim. "Aren't you angry with her?"

"I think the anger has passed. After the divorce and the sale, I spent some time just moping. A good friend who is a psychiatrist finally talked me into some sessions, and it helped me a lot. She showed me that I needed to start focusing more on people. Since then, I have done a lot of volunteer work with various kinds of charities, some of whom run shelters, halfway houses, and such. I have worked closely with a number of people who suffer from addictions. Much as I was hurt by how Shannon treated me, I can better understand what she must have gone through. It has made me angrier at the drug business and less at her."

"She wasn't even on drugs when she first rejected you."

"I know. I blame myself for rejecting her back. I responded in kind instead of trying to love her through it. I've always thought I should have done something to keep her from getting hooked on cocaine by her 'in crowd' friends."

"You were awfully young then. I remember how devastated you were."

"You should remember. I must have ruined a lot of your blouses crying on your shoulder. I was just 14. I guess puberty is the time when acceptance and rejection can seem like the only important things in life. She was getting 'in' with the cheerleading crowd. To them, I was a nerd. She had to choose and I lost."

"That was so strange. You were already getting noticed as a runner, and you were out for football. You'd think that would be enough to join the 'in' crowd."

"Somehow in the culture of that school, my commitment to good grades and my interest in computers put me outside the pale. To tell the truth, though, I didn't want to be 'in.' I didn't want to lose my best friend, either, though."

"We were so devastated by the way she treated you. We worked hard to instill good, solid values in our kids. Somehow, with Shannon, it didn't take. Since then we have done some study on birth order. We now realize there are some things about a third child that need to be handled differently."

"Wouldn't we all like a chance to replay some things. I haven't seen Shannon for over ten years. She didn't come to my wedding. What is she doing now?"

He could see Jim trying to formulate a reply. When he spoke, it was very subdued. "Shannon and the kids are living here. The walkout level has a full apartment, and we don't need the space. They have been here for several years, now. She has never been able to afford a decent place of her own. The jobs she has had are not very good, and she cannot seem to hold them for long. Right now, she is selling tickets at a theater."

"Is she clean, then?"

"Well, she is off drugs, as far as we can tell. She drinks and smokes some, although I wouldn't call her an alcoholic. As you know, she dropped out of high school when she got hooked. She lived with that guy Adam for a few years, and had both kids by him. When he took off, we were able to convince her to go into rehab, and we took the kids. When she got out, she found a job and an apartment and things were looking up. Caroline provided day care for three or four years, but we thought it was worth it. When she started using again, we didn't know what to do. This time, she got crossed up with the law. She had just enough sense left to know she didn't want to lose the kids and everything. Rehab worked again, and we are just holding our breath ever since."

"Do you think she would want to see me?"

"I don't know. Why do you want to see her?"

"It's hard to explain. I guess it's a desire to reconnect. It's partly why I came to the reunion. That didn't work, but Shannon was a much bigger part of my past than the whole high school. I guess I would like to see if there is any spark left of the childhood buddy I remember. I don't suppose there is anything I could do that would help her. I believe I am helping people through my volunteer work, but they are strangers. You are people I care about deeply, and I can see how Shannon's problems weigh on you. If there was even a chance I could help, I would not want to miss it."

"We really appreciate your concern, Greg. I don't see what you could do that hasn't already been tried. We need to tell you that you might not recognize her."

"I remember the punk hairdo, the weird makeup, and all the piercings."

"It's not that. She has been borderline depressive since her last bout of addiction. She seems to have lost all drive and initiative. She can't seem to plan or make a decision. Her major addiction now is food. She has gained a lot of weight. Well, why don't you just call her and see if she is willing. To change the subject, I wanted to ask, are you romantically involved now?"

"How did you put that question off so long, Caroline." They all chuckled at that. "No, I am not. Women who get close to me don't have very bright prospects. I haven't wanted to inflict my curse on anyone else."

"You're not being fair to yourself. Shannon was not a woman when she went bad. She was just an immature girl, much as she would never admit it. You certainly did not cause her downfall. As for Jenna - sometimes people are just fools. Bright as she is, she must kick herself daily for leaving you."

"Whatever the reason, I am 0 for 2 and gun-shy."

After the usual busy Saturday night at the theater, Shannon slept until almost noon. The kids were quiet - Terry playing his computer games, and Janie watching an old movie on TV. Another of her many waves of guilt hit her as she thought how decent they were to her and how shitty she often was to them. At 14 and 13, they were the only good things she had ever accomplished, and she didn't deserve them. Like everything else, if it weren't for her parents, they probably wouldn't be great kids, either. As she lurched toward the bathroom, she saw Terry hunched over the keyboard in his room. He had on a sleeveless T-Shirt, and she could see the muscles developing on his shoulders and chest. He was going to look like her father.

Carefully avoiding looking in the mirror, she turned on the shower and stripped off the panties and T-Shirt she slept in. She saw the bottle of sleeping pills she had left out last night. It reminded her of her almost nightly internal debate - should she just take them all and really sleep through it? Shuddering, she put them in the cabinet and stepped into the shower. As the water began to wash away the sleep fog, the image of Terry in his muscle shirt returned. He was becoming a man. Would she ever have a man again? Who would ever want her? How had she turned into such a blimp? Last time she stepped reluctantly on a scale, it yelled back 201! As a JV cheerleader, she weighed just 115 at 5'6"! Now, she could grab an ugly roll of fat in her hand anywhere on her torso, or her back, if she could ever reach it. She had started to do that knock-kneed fat lady's waddle when she walked. She had to do contortions to see the clit ring that still adorned her permanently bare pubis. Why was she always hungry? Why did food never satisfy the hunger? She knew she had lost that last waitress job because of her weight. A fat waitress had to at least be jolly, and she was a long way from jolly.

Thinking of Terry again, she wondered just how much of a man he was becoming. When she was growing up, modesty was the rule around the house. Because of how she looked now, she never exposed herself to her children, and they reciprocated. Thus, she had had no opportunity to see how her son's package was developing. This line of thought triggered a tingling in her groin, and as she washed her crotch, she dropped the rag and decided to bring herself off. Right now, she was glad for the clit ring. Otherwise, she might have trouble finding her nub in all that fat. Getting off had always been surprisingly easy for her. As she started off slowly on her clit, she worked a nipple with her other hand. She kept this up for several minutes until she felt the momentum starting to build. Speeding up on her clit, she dropped her other hand to her vagina, inserted two fingers carefully, and started stroking in and out in time with her other hand. It took less than a minute of this for her to peak. She had to take her hand from her hole to steady herself against the shower wall, but she kept rubbing her clit to keep the orgasm rolling. Finally, she slowed to gentle rubbing of her whole mound as the last of the shudders rippled through her. It was not a big one, but she did feel better. As she finished her shower, the depressive side of her brain wondered if she would ever again get off from anyone's hand but her own.

After dressing in sweats and a T-Shirt, she had a quick breakfast of a kids' cereal she found on the shelf. She made a pot of coffee, and finished off with a couple of donuts she had picked up at the shop next to the theater. As she was putting her dishes in the sink, Janie came into the little kitchenette area. "Mornin', Mom. Hey, who's visiting Gram and Pops? There's a strange car in the driveway, and I thought I heard a man's voice at the door just now."

"I don't know who it is, Honey. Did you guys get some breakfast?"

"Yeah, Mom, we're all set for a while. What are we going to do for lunch?"

"Don't know. I'll work on it." As Janie left the room, it suddenly hit her. Greg must be here! Last night was that stupid reunion, and he was coming for it. Mom had told her. They had encouraged her to go, but there was no way. High school represented the worst time of her life and she wanted no reminders. Besides, she had never graduated, so it wasn't really her reunion. Greg! She had basically blotted him from her brain for these many years - he was all tangled up with the other high school pain. Why was he here? He hadn't been around for years. He must hate her guts!

Suddenly and uncharacteristically overcome by curiosity, she crept up the inside stairway that opened into the house's main entryway. She just had to hear if it really was Greg, and what they might be talking about. As she reached the top step and sat down, she heard her mother ask "Where is Jenna now?" She hardly breathed as she sat listening to the conversation. As the subject turned to her, she bristled as usual at the idea they might be trying to 'fix' her - to run her life. But as she listened, she was actually touched by evidence of true concern for her, even from Greg! When he mentioned his 'childhood buddy, ' her eyes welled up with tears.

Almost stumbling from haste and blurred vision, she tore back downstairs to her room. Frantically, she riffled through her closet for something that fit and looked halfway decent. Nothing was right, but she hastily donned a slacks and blouse she frequently wore to work. In the bathroom, she applied a little makeup and combed out her hair the best she could. Slipping on some sandals, she hurried to the lower level door thru the family room that served as her little family's main room. "Where you goin', Mom?" Janie queried.

"Nowhere, Honey. I'll be right back."

She walked around the house on the flagstone walk that brought her to the driveway. At the corner of the garage, she waited. After less than ten minutes, Greg came out. She almost gasped. He looked great! What was she thinking? She couldn't let him see her!

He said his goodbyes and started toward his car. He thought he sensed some motion at the corner of the garage, but when he looked over, no one was there. After another step, though, he heard a noise as if someone was walking away. With a flash of insight, he called out "Shannon," and sprinted over to the corner. As he looked around the side of the garage, he saw her retreating down the walk. "Shannon, wait!" he called out. She stopped, facing away from him, almost in mid-step. He caught up and moved around in front of her. She looked at him with a 'deer in the headlights' expression on her face. "Shannon, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to see you."

"H... Hello, Greg. Why did you want to see me?" She couldn't let on what she'd heard on the stairway - she still was not sure she believed it.

"Can we go somewhere for a cup of coffee or something?"

"I... I've got to fix lunch for the kids." She still had hardly moved a muscle. Greg thought for a moment, and then had an inspiration.

"Tell you what, let's go to the food court over at the mall. I'll buy you all lunch, and the kids can shop or go to the arcade while we visit."

"Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Yes, I really do!" He had planned to be on his way back home, but he really had nothing scheduled the rest of the day.

Hesitantly, Shannon agreed and went to get the kids. The introductions were a little awkward, but the planned outing soon met with enthusiastic approval. They all piled into the Jeep for the short trip to the mall. As they pulled out of the driveway, Greg briefly saw Jim and Caroline at the corner of the front window, Caroline with head lowered, her face in her hands.

At the mall, it was decided the kids would play first for a half hour. As they were about to move off, Greg saw Terry start to ask his mother something, then drop his shoulders and back away. Two inspirations in one day - Greg was hot! "Here, Terry, use this to get yourself some tokens at the arcade," he said as he handed the boy a ten. Greg purposely kept his back to Shannon as he watched the kids move off, not giving her a chance to protest.

The next half hour was uncomfortable. Shannon was almost tongue-tied. Both had to pretend they didn't know the things they had heard about the other. There were a number of long silences, but not the kind between old friends who don't have to always be talking. It was a relief when the kids returned, and Greg spent most of his time getting acquainted with them. When all were finished eating, he dropped them home. Goodbyes were cordial but brief - much better from the kids. As he caught the freeway and headed on home, he felt a heavy sadness, but yet a sense of determination. He would find some way to get Shannon a better life.

When Greg dropped them off at the house, both kids went up to the front door to tell Gram & Pops about their outing. Shannon went straight to her room and stretched out on the bed. She felt incredibly weary and thought she would just nap until time to get ready for work. But sleep would not come. For years she had been dealing with the specter of her past by repression - she just would not let herself think about it. The present was not good. The mind numbing jobs, the occasional binge, the cigarettes, and, of course, the constant food barely kept the depression at bay. Depressing as things were now, though, if she let herself think about her childhood, high school, using, Adam, or recovery, she would not be able to cope. Being with Greg had shattered her defensive barrier, and now the memories were pouring in full force.

Greg had been one aspect of her past she avoided most scrupulously. His name and image were surrounded by a choking cloud of guilt. She knew she had been wrong to turn away from him as she did. Even at the time, she had felt bad about it, but her old friend just could not compete with her flashy new friends, and they wouldn't let her have both. Thoughts of Greg, especially after having just been with him, evoked another strong feeling as well - longing! He represented what could have been, if only... Seeing how good he looked and hearing how well he had done highlighted the meagerness of her own existence. Maybe she could have been married to him! Instead, here she was, unmarried; two bastard kids; a body that would turn off even a drunken sailor, and no prospects for any real improvement. How could she have made such a mess of her life?

As she laid there, her mind kept going over and over all the events she could remember from her last eighteen years. All the energy drained from her. She felt she could hardly move. Hour after hour she lay almost catatonic. Time to leave for work came and went and she could not even muster the energy to call in sick. She was overcome by bouts of sobbing. Sometime far into the night she collapsed into exhausted sleep. The morning brought no improvement, and she was barely able to stumble through the necessities of existence. The kids were solicitous, and her mother came down to see what was wrong and try to get her to eat something. They could tell from her appearance that she was truly ill, but she could not say what was wrong. For the rest of the week, she hardly left her bed.

She knew she wanted to change. She wanted a decent life for herself and her kids. She wanted at least a little bit of what her parents, her brother and sister, and Greg had. She wanted to feel like a success at something. She wanted someone to love! As desperately as she wanted these things, she just could not see how she was going to realize any of them. The more she wished, the more the hopelessness paralyzed her.

As soon as he was in cell range after leaving the Randophs', Greg dialed Julia Waxman, his friend and psychiatrist. Frank answered, but Julia was home, and he called her to the phone.

"Greg! Haven't heard from you in quite a while."

"Sorry to call you at home, Julia, but I want to buy some of your time.

Her voice took on a more serious tone. "Are you having some problems?"

"Oh, no! Nothing like that. Your fixes are still holding just fine." They both chuckled at this standing joke between them. "I want to tell you about an old friend whose life has not gone well. Maybe you can suggest some ways I could help her?"

"You're not talking about Jenna, are you?"

"No, it's Shannon. From my childhood."

"Yes, I remember, now. I'm full the next two days, but how about lunch tomorrow at 11:30."

"That's great! I'll be at your office right at 11:30. Thanks, Julia."

Monday

At lunch the next day, Greg told Julia as much as he knew about Shannon's history and current situation. She asked a number of detailed questions. At one point, he had run out of answers. He excused himself, called the Randolph house on his cell phone, and questioned Caroline for several minutes. He avoided telling her why he wanted the information, and she did not push. Julia had had a cancellation of her first client after lunch (at least that is what she told him), so they adjourned back to her office.

"From what you have told me, she is a tragic but classic ex-addict. She was not using for all that many years, and the drugs she used were not the most destructive. Many in her situation become totally non-functional. The asylums are full of them. The still functional, but damaged ones, like Shannon, have pretty bleak prospects. A disturbing number of the women fall into bondage, or become sex slaves."

"Guess I can't help her that way!" commented Greg. "The very idea of bondage makes me ill. I could never be a slave master."

"No, I'm sure you couldn't. Disgusting as it sounds, though, slavery seems to supply some important needs and wants. Someone tells them exactly what to do - does all the thinking and deciding for them. The humiliation and pain supplies the punishment they instinctively feel they deserve. Many live out their whole lives in servitude situations. Sometimes it's in a marriage, but the situation is really the same."

"What I had hoped to do was find some way get Shannon a new start - to get her back on track for the life she should have had with her talent, her looks, and her upbringing." Neither spoke for a few minutes until Greg asked "Could there be a kind of beneficent slavery, maybe constructive slavery? I mean where someone did all the thinking and controlled her life, but the objective was not control but rebuilding?"

"Interesting! I have read some papers that discussed this idea as a variation of the 're-birthing' concept. The subject is brought to a state not unlike infancy where literally nothing is left in their control. Then, they are taught and trained under rigorous discipline. I do not recall reading any articles with great success stories, though."