Chapter 47

Despite the late return home from the incredible Saturday and the energetic love-making into the wee hours, both Cal and Cheryl awoke only an hour after their usual dawn time. After a brief discussion, they decided to go for a run but pass on the rest of that day's workout.

He probably should have suspected it, but Cal pulled up short in surprise as they turned the last corner before home on their run. Right in front of the house stood a TV truck. "I suppose there's no way to wait them out, is there?" he grumped.

"I don't know about you, but I want some breakfast," she teased. Then, more seriously "What are you going to say?"

"Nothing. I don't like talking to the press. Something bad usually comes out of it."

"I'm not sure that's the best idea," she cautioned. "If, and it's only an 'if', they want to make you out to be some kind of a thug, blowing them off will just validate their view. Remember what happened last year."

"Shit!"

"I've got an idea," she said. "Tell them they have to go through the coach - you don't know what his policy is on the press. Won't do your standing with the coach any harm, either."

"The smartest thing I ever did was hook up with a genius woman," he said as he swatted her butt and set off to face the sharks.

"But there's no policy against it!" the reporter protested when Cal told him why he would not talk. "I've talked to many football players over the years."

"Look, this was my first game. I'm not taking any chances on doing something he's not happy with."

The reporter tried some more, but Cal held firm, and he and Cheryl went in to prepare breakfast. That turned out to be difficult because the phone kept on ringing. They had voice mail from the phone company, so they couldn't screen calls, and they thought family might be trying to get through.

"I hope I survive this," Cheryl said with mock resignation. "You cook. I'll answer the calls." She was having way too much fun with this for Cal's liking.

To three calls from the press, she claimed that Cal was not available. If the calls were from family and friends, she put Cal on to talk. Before they finished a very interrupted, piecemeal breakfast, he had received congratulations from over a dozen people.

Elaine could not stop gushing on the call from his parents. "Did you know they kept showing that play over and over and over on ESPN and everywhere?"

"That's because Rory Renton got hurt, Mom. Not because of me."

"But lots of times they showed what you did on that punt, too," Elaine bubbled. Cal was beginning to get the sick feeling that any hope of a peaceful college career might be gone in the first week.

In the middle of the calls came one from the coach. "Banner!" he said in a snarl that sounded real, "I spend enough time with reporters. Don't you go shoving more of them at me."

"So, do you have any rules about what I can't say?"

"Nah. Lots of cautions I could give you, but there's no point. Just use your head."

Cheryl could tell the result of the call, and it was very clear that he was not happy about it. She gave him a hug, then told him "Why don't we work out some answers to the questions you can expect. You need to give the same answers all the time. If you don't, they'll jump all over you."

"So you think they'll be mostly, uh, hostile?"

"I don't know, but they'll all keep digging for something no one else got," she explained.

The TV station that had the truck waiting, the one that had called the coach, deserved the first shot, so Cal called the number on the card he had received from the reporter. "Make you a deal," Cal said. "For a studio disk with all of my plays, the entire plays, I'll talk to you."

"Why do you want that?" Cheryl asked.

"I'm not sure. I've just got a feeling I may have to prove some things."

"This is really bugging you, isn't it, Honey," she asked. "How come my guy, who's not afraid of anything, is so worried about a bunch of reporters?"

That stopped him for moment. "I've trained and trained to face all those other threats. How to you learn to handle the press?"

The TV reporter came back, disk in hand, and Cal did an interview that was not nearly as bad as he had feared. He did start by trying to deflect the attention from himself. Instead of answering the first question, he asked "Why aren't you talking to Ricky? He scored two great touchdowns. And our defensive line did a great job against one of the top running games in the country."

"Well, it was your steal of the ball that set up one of those touchdowns, you know," was the retort from the reporter. Seeing that he would not be getting out of the spotlight, Cal just went along from then on.

The rest of the morning was consumed by more calls from the press. Cal was very happy about Cheryl's suggestion for prepared responses, and he told her so several times.

She got in as much studying as possible while he talked on the phone. Just when he was he was finally able to open his books, one more call came in. "Mr. Banner, this is Independent Sports Network calling. We would like you to come out for an interview for our show to be aired nationally Wednesday evening."

"That won't be possible," Cal said quickly. "Between classes, studying, and practice, I just can't take time out during the week."

"We would do the interview tonight."

"Thank you for calling, but I'm not interested," Cal said before hanging up. He just shook his head and went back to his books.

The next call was from the coach. "Banner, some national exposure would be good for our recruiting."

"Even if it turns out to be negative?"

"Sure. It still gets our name out there."

"Coach, I'm sorry, but I've had some bad experiences with the press. I won't give them a chance to make up a broadcast by editing what I say and putting in whatever they want to add."

"Why do you think they would do that?"

"Just a hunch. Renton was really popular with the press. They blame me for putting him out."

"Hmmm. Well, I won't force you, but it would be good for us," was the coach's final word.

Cal had hardly hung up from the coach's call when the network called again. When Cal still refused, the network person said "But we cleared it with your coach. He wants you to do it."

"Sorry, but I'm not giving you a chance to make up something that isn't at all what I said."

"Do you really think that we would doctor an interview?" To that question, Call just laughed.

"Are we through? I have a lot of studying to do."

"I guess so."

Darlene woke up before Hal on Sunday morning, something that only happened on Sundays. Because he kept construction hours, he was usually up very early. Since the first years of their marriage, Sundays had been an exception. In the early years, they had always gone to church because of their religious upbringing. It was a source of great concern to both of their families that they no longer did, and that they never got the kids involved.

Saturday night, she had rejoiced with Cheryl when she called to tell about her volleyball win. Earlier in the day, she and Shelley had gone to the restaurant with the Banners to watch Cal play. Somehow, as happy as she was for Cheryl and Cal, the day had left her depressed. Seeing the Banners together always seemed to have that effect on her. It seemed like she was surrounded with happy, affectionate couples. She could just imagine the kind of intimacy they shared, and she ached for it.

The other thing that had fueled Darlene's depression was the way Elaine and Martin could share in the joy of their child's accomplishments. She could not help but contrast that with Hal's cold disinterest in Cheryl's sports and Shelley's gymnastics. The fact that Matt was following Cheryl as an academic leader of his class seemed to trigger scorn from Hal, when he deigned to acknowledge it at all. What was there that she and her husband truly shared, anyway?

She just stood looking at Hal for quite a while. The old feelings were still there, but they had been dulled a lot over the last couple of years. The good looks and the manliness that had won her hand long ago were still evident and they still tugged at her emotions.

Unfortunately, the main thing tugging at her emotions right then was a growing sadness. She was honestly trying to keep her feelings for him alive, but he was making it harder and harder. She just could not draw any expressions of affection from him, or even of lust. He had begun to accept showering together, and he had 'consented' to wash her, but only the 'safe' parts. She did not think she looked so bad that he should be repulsed by her body. Beyond that, she could hardly get him to touch her with his hands.

From her sessions with Julia, she realized that there had never been any real passion between her and Hal. There had been some youthful sexual exuberance, but not even much of that. There had been a lot of sex, and there was still quite a bit. Hal had urges, but he had no passion.

Had there ever really been love? There was certainly caring and concern. There was habit and commitment. The problem was that Darlene was seeing too much obvious real love between Cheryl and Cal, Elaine and Martin, and even Matt and his girlfriend Chelsea.

She was weary. Weary and oh, so horny. Her determination not to cheat on her wedding vows was being tested to its limits. Of course, there were no candidates lined up waiting to enter into an affair with her, but it would not have taken much for the right man to seduce her. If the encounter with Jeremy had happened now, rather than a year earlier, he probably would have won her.

Matt was going on a long bike outing that day with Chelsea and Darlene wanted to fix him a good breakfast. She had only met the girl a few times because Matt would not bring her to the house when Hal was there. She seemed like a nice girl, and the feelings of the young couple for each other were clearly evident.

Matt's romance was a huge point of conflict in the household, as if any more tension was needed. Hal tried to forbid Matt's dating in every way that he could, and Darlene was forced to stand up for her son. After many discussions with Cheryl and Cal, she had found that they were right. After all of his bluster and posturing, Hal would fold if she stood firm. He would fold, but he would remain surly.

At sixteen, Matt was plenty mature for dating - plenty mature for sex, for that matter. Darlene was sure that he and Chelsea were intimate. As a mother, that should have shocked her, and even a year ago, it would have. Now, she was happy that her handsome son could find the kind of affection that she had been deprived of.

Matt would not grow up to be a cold fish like his father, of that Darlene was sure. In fact, her precious children were her only sources of expressed tenderness. Matt was more than willing to cuddle in ways that were probably not appropriate, but that Darlene desperately needed. Lately, on those rare occasions when they were all four together in the same room, she would purposely be all over Matt, just to piss off Hal. She had the faint hope that it would stimulate Hal to some action of his own. Whether that worked or not, Matt entered in eagerly, and it helped to fill that awful void in her life.

Understanding how much out of her comfort zone she pushed herself for him, Matt was very grateful to his mother. Still amazed at how quickly her attitudes and her demeanor had changed, to say nothing of her looks, he instinctively wanted to encourage her new independence and her hunger for affection.

Matt regarded Cheryl with something approaching awe, a very unique attitude for a teenaged boy toward an older sister. Long before Darlene's latent need for affection was awakened, though, Cheryl had provided the closeness and the physical evidences of love that a mother ordinarily would. Then, she had persuaded Matt to open his heart to their mother when she began to change.

In the kitchen, Darlene cooked eggs and pancakes for Matt to give him some protein and carbs for his strenuous day. When he came into the kitchen, he came up and hugged her from behind, planting a kiss behind her ear. He favored her tall, slim build, so he had to stoop a little. She was always impressed by the strength she felt in him, and always wondered if his disinterest in competitive sports was just an aversion because of his father. His frequent biking had certainly made him solid.

"You guys gonna be OK in this heat?" she asked.

"We're heading for a neat little pool in a creek just up from the river," he replied. "We'll get a great chance to cool off."

"Need a lunch?"

"There's a sandwich shop a few miles from the spot, but thanks."

"Skinny dipping, I suppose," she said somewhat timidly.

"Uh, huh."

It was not her intention, but some tears started to fall. He read it for the longing that it was, but all he could do was give her another hug. Only halfway teasing, he said "You should come with us sometime."

"But I need someone I can do everything with that you guys do," she said through sniffles.

"You figured that out, huh?" he asked quietly. "You, uh, upset about that?"

"No, Honey. I'm just happy that this messed-up family hasn't turned you into your father. You give Chelsea all the loving you can."

Even with his mother's changes over the last year, that comment still left Matt nonplussed. He gave her another hug, then set about destroying the breakfast.

It really was a lovely spot. Matt and Chelsea had ridden almost fifteen miles to reach it, but they considered the effort more than worthwhile. They were both careful to set their bikes gently against trees, but then, they turned into happy children, flinging soggy biking clothes every which way and racing each other into the water, naked.

The pool was neither wide nor deep, more like a little natural tub in the curve of the creek. He loved the way the clear, rippling water distorted the view of her body. It was a highly erotic scene for him. She was a strong girl, well-muscled, not at all dainty. He appeared quite slender next to her, but the physical dissimilarities bothered them not at all.

After a short soak and a little horseplay, Matt went to his bike for a small blanket that he had deemed worth carrying on the ride. He had just barely spread it on the ground when Chelsea dragged him down atop herself, legs spread in obvious demand. To these two, a fifteen mile ride was just a warmup, an aphrodisiac. They knew they would enjoy plenty petting and teasing later, as they ate and afterward. The main thing for right then was some energetic intercourse.

Besides their shared interest in biking, the two could talk for hours, and they whiled away most of Sunday between the little pool and the blanket, the conversation only ceasing during a nap. Their biking outfits were rinsed and laid on rocks so they would be dry in time for departure. There was no other need for clothes.

Hal had greeted Matt's return with the customary negative remarks. Though he had no concept of the effort and the conditioning involved, Hal considered biking a sissy activity. The fact that Matt could do it with a girl just reinforced that perception.

A few times Hal had voiced the opinion that he might as well have sired three girls. That had enraged Darlene. It had motivated her to be even more physically expressive with her son, and to encourage his sexual maturation.

Matt gave his mother a detailed account of the day. When he had first started dating Chelsea, the questions about his sexual activity had angered and embarrassed him, but Cheryl had explained what Darlene was dealing with, and he had tried his best to be open in their discussions. Both mother and son knew that his recitation would leave her depressed and wanting, but she could not refrain from asking the questions, and he could not refuse the answers.

When Darlene entered the bedroom Sunday night, she had crossed a line. Up until that time, she had refrained from using any humiliation or intimidation in her efforts to get some affection out of Hal. For whatever reason, she could no longer restrain herself.

As had become her habit, she stripped as soon as they were alone with the door closed. At first, she had hoped that it would entice him. When that became a faint hope, her nakedness became more of a challenge. In her mind, she knew that her action was foolish, but she felt that she had to do something.

Several times lately, she had masturbated herself in front of Hal before allowing him to enter her. The first time, he had hardly been able to stammer out "What are you doing?"

Her arousal had mellowed her out enough so she had bitten back the cutting remark that she wanted to let loose. Instead, she told him "I want to get myself nice and lubricated so I don't have to use KY."

Over the years, Hal had perfected a response to confusing or humiliating situations. He would say nothing and adapt a blank expression that gave absolutely nothing away. This 'stone face' had always irritated Darlene, even before her 'awakening'. Now, it enraged her.

That Sunday night, he wore the stone face again as she lay naked against her pillows, lights on, stimulating herself. If his intent was to embarrass her, it no longer worked. Still, she kept her cool. Reaching for his hand, she pulled it toward her crotch and told him "You do it."

Against her firm pull, he drew his hand back, his expression never changing. "Damn you!" she swore at him for the very first time, and got up out of bed. Leaning over and shouting at him, she said "I'm going to see Matt. He knows how to treat a woman."

There probably was nothing more inflammatory that she could have said. He certainly was not blind to the overt displays of affection between his wife and son. He knew that they were a rebuke of his own frigidity. Still naked, she had to walk around the bed to get to the door. He jumped up and intercepted her, snarling "You aren't going out there like that."

"Why not?" she hissed at him. "I'm married to a queer who won't touch me. At least my son is a real man who..." Whatever else she was going to say was cut off as he grabbed her arm and squeezed hard. Portraying him as the queer and his son as the real man was a terrible escalation of the previous insult. It led to his first ever act of physical violence toward her.

Instead of panic, she felt an ice cold anger. "Not that kind of touch!" she spat out, then slapped him hard across his face. That was her first.

Tightly controlled people, which Hal definitely was, sometimes hide volcanic tempers. Hal looked like he was about to stroke out as the rage overtook him. He drew back his fist, ready to slug her, but the lifelong conditioning was just too strong. He released his grip on her arm and just stood and quivered in his anger and frustration.

In her own anger, Darlene tried to think of something to say, but she somehow knew that nothing could surpass the shot she had already given him. It was only as she turned and opened the bedroom door that shock and dismay began to flush out the anger.

Both Matt and Shelley had heard the unusual volume level from the master bedroom, and both had come to the doors of their rooms. Matt saw his naked mother leave her room, walking almost like a robot. She had left the door open and Hal stood naked and motionless in the dim light, his earlier erection not yet completely deflated by the anger.

Matt's first reaction was to retreat into his room so as not to look at his mother's nakedness. Then he noticed Shelley, transfixed at the sight of her father. His instincts told him that nothing would ever be the same after that night. They also told him that his mother had needs stronger than the courtesy of honoring her modesty.

"Shelly, Mom really needs us now," Matt hissed at his sister. Setting the example, he held his arms wide in invitation. That brought Darlene out of her trance and she dashed the last few steps into the waiting hug. Shock and confusion froze Shelley for a moment, but she quickly wrapped her arms around the other two.

It was impossible for Matt to read his father's expression, but it was definitely not the stone face that he was used to seeing, nor the sneer with which Hal often addressed his son. Matt had some concern that Hal might do something physical. Cheryl's old room was right across the hall from his and Shelley's rooms, and he guided the three of them to it, shutting and locking the door behind them.

Matt was embarrassed; embarrassed for his mother and about the situation. He tried to free himself to get something from Cheryl's closet, but Darlene clamped her arms around him with manic strength. "Do I look so disgusting?" she demanded.