Chapter 3: Homecoming

Questions flooded my mind as I drove to Mrs. Cynthia Collingsworth's house on Sunday night.

Why had I let Doug drag me off on a camping and fishing weekend, and why had I tried to help him with a business plan? Why had I tried to help Jessica? Why did I want to believe that Cynthia trusted me?

Was there a connection between these questions? Did it have something to do with retaliating against Kelley for trying to turn Cynthia against me? Phyllis had commended me for trying to help her husband and Jessica. Kelley was in constant contact with Phyllis and had no doubt heard about the reasons I had agreed to go on the camping and fishing trip.

This did not answer why Cynthia had given me the combination to her safe and left the note, but somehow, I thought all my questions were tied together in one neat package.

Why was I on my way to Cynthia's house? That was the simplest of questions. I was hungry, filthy and horny, all conditions that she could remedy.

Margaret must have heard the garage door open and close. She met me in the kitchen to tell me that the missus was in her study.

"Don't tell her I'm here until I've had time to shower and am ready to have something to eat," I said and watched Margaret smile approvingly.

"Will a waffle and eggs suit you, Mr. Sammy?"

"A waffle and eggs sounds like it will hit the spot," I said, already on my way to the stairs.

"I'll make enough for the Missus. Maybe you can get her to eat something," Margaret suggested and I told her it was a good idea.

The shower was the best I could remember taking, ever. The showers after grueling football games, when the field was muddy, didn't measure up to this one. I remembered a shower after a game when we'd been disgraced, outscored, and booed at by our own classmates. The shower after that game had felt good, but nothing compared to the one I was taking now. The hot water rid my body of stench and drove the cold from my bones.

What to wear? The clothes I'd removed were grimy. Even the sweatpants I'd worn for three days and two nights smelled fishy. I put them on along with one of the new shirts I found in Cynthia's closet, and went downstairs.

Cynthia became alarmed when she saw my bare feet and three day beard. The scuffs, loose top and loose fitting pants she was wearing looked comfortable. She ran her hand over my face, and although she was happy to see me, she wore a look of unmistakable disgust.

"Tomorrow, we'll go shopping and that's final," she said.

"I have clothes at home," I objected.

"Final!" she repeated.

"Just because I came to your house doesn't give you the right to order me around."

"I'm older than you," she countered.

I was starving and the aroma coming from the food Margaret was setting on the table was tantalizing, but getting off to the right start was critical.

"Let's get something straight. I say what we do and when we do it. Now, sit down and eat."

"I love it when you talk to me that way," she said, plopping her ass in a chair.

In addition to waffles, there was a dish of scrambled eggs and two small steaks. I spread butter and syrup on my waffle, and was scooping a giant helping of eggs out of the bowl when I noticed that Cynthia was just watching me.

"Butter your waffle and pour syrup on it," I ordered, and watched her spread a small amount of butter on her waffle. She looked at me to see if she'd satisfied me.

"Syrup, too," I said, and when she didn't comply, I became short with her.

"Look, I'm starving and if you don't start eating I won't get anything to eat. Not eating will make me edgy, and when I'm edgy, I can't perform, if you know what I mean."

"Please eat, Sammy. I'll try to eat, too."

I dived in to the waffle, steak and eggs. Cynthia took her time, cutting small bites and chewing slowly. I cut the second steak in two pieces.

"Take it all. I'm not very hungry," she said.

I cut a small bite of steak and offered it to her. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth and accepted it. I put the second half on my plate.

"There, I helped you with your share. I expect you to finish the other half."

"Really, Sammy, I'm not very hungry."

"Am I going to have to use my valuable time to feed you? It's going to make me edgy and you know what happens when I become edgy," I said, giving her a small helping of eggs to emphasize my position.

Cynthia actually grinned at me before attempting to eat everything on her plate. I smiled encouragingly but had to help her with the rest of the eggs.

When I pushed myself away from the table, she'd devoured everything except about half of her waffle. Not wanting her to become sick, I told her that I was pleased with the way she'd obeyed me.

"I want to please you, Sammy. You're not edgy, are you?"

"I'm happy to say that I'm going to be able to perform tonight."

I thanked Margaret for the meal, and pulled Cynthia out of her chair. She squealed with delight as I directed her toward the stairs.

She took one look at the several layers of clothing I'd discarded, picked them up and dashed out of the room. I heard her calling Margaret and ran into the hallway to stop her. Alas, I was too late. My clothes had already been tossed over the railing, onto the floor of the foyer below.

"It's not necessary that she wash them. I've got to go home to shave and dress for work," I said.

"It will make her happy to do something for you. You want her to be happy, don't you, Darling?" Cynthia asked, wiping her hands on her top as if to say, 'That's final!'

It came to me that she'd just defined an arrangement between us. I could order her to follow my directions, and she would submit to my desires, but when she asserted her own wishes, there was no way I could change her mind. If I wanted to 'be with her, ' we would have a give and take understanding. Since I'd decided that I wanted to 'be with her, ' this was my turn to yield.

"What?" she asked, looking at me with a naughty little grin.

"This is how it's going to be, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, gently pushing me into the bedroom and closing the door behind her.

We stood looking into each other's eyes. I could almost see her nodding her head, like she was agreeing with me, but she didn't put it into words. She didn't need to. I guess I liked having her depend on me to guide her actions. On the other hand, it was good to see her take a 'That's final, ' stand. If she wanted to stock her closet with clothes for me and give me space in the bathroom, I could live with her generosity. My masculinity would not be threatened by her wealth. If being the doting widow made her happy, that's all that was important.

I opened my arms and she came to me. Did she know that this was a turning point in our relationship? Could she feel that I was holding on to her; not just holding her? I wanted to protect her. I wanted her to feel safe in my arms. I wanted her to need me and I wanted her to know that I needed her.

"I need to call home and let my parents know I survived the weekend," I said.

Cynthia lingered, hugging me tighter for a second before dropping to her knees to pull my filthy sweatpants down to my ankles and off. She left the room, presumably to deliver my sweatpants to Margaret, but most likely to give me privacy.

I kept the call short, telling Suzanne that I had returned from the wilderness and was being held captive by Cynthia. Her silent response made me think that Suzanne would have preferred that I was still battling the elements. Could she tell that I'd surrendered willingly?

"Will you be home for dinner tomorrow evening, Dear?"

"I don't know," I said, answering honestly, without saying that it depended on what Cynthia wanted.

Suzanne told me to be on time to attend John's staff meeting and I assured her that I wouldn't miss it. What did she think? That I was tied to the bed?

Cynthia returned, found me in bed, quickly shed her clothes and joined me. The ever present bra annoyed me. Should I remind her that she'd said she trusted me? Didn't I deserve to see her breasts, play with them, and suck them? The answer was yes, but not worth making an issue over, not tonight anyway.

"Kelley told me you wanted to have my baby?" I asked, wanting to hear what she had to say. If it was true, why had she entrusted Kelley with something so private?

Cynthia's body became rigid. I ran my open hand over her back, down to her ass and back up. She relaxed in my arms.

"Yes, I tried to become pregnant. Not the first time, but later, when I realized it could happen, I wanted it more than anything. I'm sorry. I should have told you, Darling."

"Why did you tell Kelley? Didn't you know she would tell me?"

When Cynthia didn't respond, I kissed her forehead as a way of showing her that I didn't blame her for telling Kelley. I was just curious.

She was collecting her thoughts. For the next several minutes she spoke slowly, selecting her words carefully as if she wanted to make it easy for me to follow her. At times, her voice failed her. I rubbed her back, played with her hair, and squeezed her ass in an effort to give her courage to continue.

"We've talked three times. The first time was when you were in Denver. She called to warn me about you. That's when she told me how you'd dumped her for the lady in Florida and then threw her over for the blonde. I knew that she was trying to break us up. I wanted to get back at her, and that's the reason I told her that I could be pregnant.

"The second time we talked was after you came back and I'd caused that scene in the garage. I was feeling sorry for myself because I'd found out that I was wrong about being pregnant. Kelley sympathized with me. She said that if I was serious about wanting a baby I should try again.

"She called again last week, after the last meeting of The Reapers. Kelley is an insecure girl. She wanted me to know that her friend condemned her for the way she'd misled me about the real reasons you'd gone camping with those two people.

"She admitted that she'd told you that I wanted your baby. I think it was her way of trying to make you think that I was using you. Then, quite unexpectedly, she revealed the real reason she'd called. She confessed that she tried to get you to fuck her. She also told me the reason you dumped her. She said she was sorry and she wished me luck in convincing you that I trust you."

Having said everything she wanted to say, Cynthia sort of slumped in my arms, awaiting my response.

She felt frail, nothing like the tall, domineering woman I'd met last summer when she'd tried to prove her superiority by squeezing my hand. I wasn't ready to absolve her for trying to deceive me.

"I'm sorry, too," I said, knowing that she would think I was sorry that she'd been mistaken about being pregnant. Really, I was sorry that she'd let Kelley pull us apart for the last three weeks, for her being misled, and that she'd had to explain it all to me.

She snuggled up to me, seemingly wanting to feel every inch of my body touching hers. If it hadn't been for the bra, that fucking padded bra, I would have relished the feeling. I resolved to get rid of the thing, but for now, I would bide my time.

Bolstered by the way I'd accepted her explanations, she nibbled on my ear and was moving her lips down to my neck when I spoke.

"You've got to change the combination to your safe."

"Why?" she asked, pulling away in alarm, and adding, "I trust you! I trust you with my life!"

"I know. You've proven that you trust me. You must change the combination because it has become one of those songs that you hear and you can not stop it from running through your mind. That combination is driving me crazy. I'm sure it was the reason I didn't catch any fish. I didn't sleep for two nights for fear that Jessica and Doug would hear me singing the combination."

"That's preposterous," she scoffed.

"Please change the combination," I pleaded.

I must have been convincing because she agreed to make the change. "Tom will need a reason," she said.

"Tell him that knowing the combination is making me paranoid."

She laughed, kissed me on the lips and became quiet. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew it was morning, and my clean clothes were stacked neatly at the foot of the bed.

After failing to get her to eat anything for breakfast, I drove Cynthia to her office in the SUV. She stretched her body across the center console to share a kiss. "Don't forget me tonight. I'll be in my cutting room," she said, kissing me again before she opened the door to get out. She waved as I drove away.

I was trying to put it all together as I was shaving. Cynthia was back to giving me orders, but she'd left it up to me as to when I would pick her up. She'd gotten out of the car without expecting me to open the door for her. I decided I liked the new Cynthia. This was kind of neat.

After John's staff meeting, I told Wanda about my weekend, freezing my ass off, trying to sleep next to a girl that wanted to jump my bones, and how I'd become frustrated by not being able to help her or Doug.

"What were you trying to prove?" Wanda asked.

"I don't know. I guess I had an urge to feel needed," I said, laughing.

"What's that?" she asked, detecting my insinuation about feeling needed.

"I'm back with Cynthia," I confessed, "But, I'm not sure which one of us needs the other more."

"Oh, my," she said, shaking her head as she left my office.

I spoke to Neill twice that day, first to learn that he'd taken an apartment in Denver, short term, until Cassie would finish the school year, when his family would join him. He gave me the address and his new telephone number.

The next time we talked was a conference call with Tom Pierce to go over the plans to subdivide the building. Neill and Tom expressed different viewpoints. From some of the subjects they touched on, there seemed to have been a longstanding feud between them.

I stepped in before it got out of hand, telling them that I respected their opinions. I suggested that Tom and I go to Denver to look at the building and meet with Neill. Tom commented that it was a good idea, but when he asked when I wanted to go; I said I'd have to think about it. I'm sure both men knew I had nothing pressing that would keep me tied to the home office.

After ending the call with nothing resolved, I considered my options. I could have Tom appoint someone else from his department to interface with Neill or I could retain Tom on the project and get to the bottom of their disagreement.

Tom was not only the head of his department, he was the most qualified. It would be unfair to ask him to step down in favor of one of his subordinates. This was definitely going to require a trip to Denver. The question was when we would go. If I delayed the trip it would mean that I was being unfair to the investors. If we left tomorrow it would mean I was being unfair to Cynthia. I resolved to break the news to her tonight.