Day 3

The way is hard that we all wend,
We go together, foe and friend,
Helping each other to ascend,
The journey is all we have in the end.
- from A Journey Between Up and Down, A. Lee

I awoke without opening my eyes, listened to the music playing softly downstairs. I stretched, arched my back and slid to the edge of the bed, pausing for a moment before standing. I walked down the stairs smoothing my hair and yawning. I walked across her living room to stand naked at the entrance to the kitchen. BF was toasting bagels. I walked over to the coffee maker and poured myself a cup. She was smirking at me when I turned around. I held my cup under my nose, enjoying the coffee's aroma and heat.

"Good morning," she said. "Did you sleep well?" I nodded. "Good, you look much better this morning."

She managed to say that with no trace of irony as she looked me over like I was her breakfast. I was still a little uncomfortable with this change in our relationship, but I would suffer more than discomfort to keep her my friend and heal the damage I'd done to us both. I doubt my boyfriend would appreciate the equal time condition she required, but I had to have time to find a way to keep them both in my life, whatever the cost.

It felt like I was being pulled apart. She was not there when he kissed me, when he showed such amazing passion and patience with me. Despite her hard words and her clinical analysis of the situation, the doubts she raised were not enough for me to begin to seriously mistrust him.

"Our appointment isn't until 10, so we can have a leisurely breakfast if you like." She started to move plates and containers to the table.

I was dreading the appointment, but I knew she was right to insist I go. It was stupid to take foolish risks for some kind of romantic gesture. She was also right that it called his judgment to question as well, as little as I wished to admit it. I knew the risks of pregnancy would be low only 5 days after I started my period, but there were other health risks if I had misjudged him and he was infected with something contagious.

I sipped my coffee, leaning against the counter. It was a little cold, even with the heater running, and my nipples were uncomfortably hard. I took my coffee with me back upstairs to find something to wear. Her eyes followed me until I left her view.

By the time I went back down the stairs with my empty cup, she had a lovely breakfast table set. Bagels and cream cheese, olives, cottage cheese, fresh fruit cut up and arranged. I got a bagel, put some cream cheese on it and added some olives and fruit to my plate.

"So do I call you Mistress?" I realized this was first thing I'd said to her since I had begged her not to leave my room. I tried not to make the comment seem flippant.

She was nonplused and said, "I wasn't talking about that kind of training."

"What are we going to do then? I'm still not clear, other than the appointment this morning and the requirement I be with you," I asked.

"We'll talk, mostly. Some things I know I want to discuss, and I imagine we'll find other topics as we go."

I ate and waited for her to continue. The olives were the strong tasting Mediteranian style that I loved. When she didn't continue I decided to start picking apart her arguments, so I asked, "What is the long con you mentioned?" When she had mentioned it before I didn't know if I understood what she was getting at.

She took a sip of coffee. "A long con is scam run by a con artist. It involves a setup where the payoff may not occur immediately and may never occur."

I said, "I know what it is, I just don't know what kind of con you think he is running. Why would he want to con me?"

She barked a laugh, "Because he is a man! Let me tell you a story, pure fantasy and conjecture." She put down her bagel.

"Imagine there's a guy in college who desires companionship. Perhaps he has a bad reputation at school, or maybe he is broke and can't afford to attract the kind of girls he wants to date. Whatever the reason, this guy is hard up and basically wants a cheap thing, a regular thing."

"He comes upon an opportunity to visit a younger relative who has friends of an age to be impressed with him, unaware of his reputation, and without the expensive expectations older girls might have. Luckily, it's also far enough away that he can keep this new life separate, not cramping his style at school. So he packs up his love bag full of massage oil and here comes Christmas."

That made me angry. I started trying to think ahead, to find the holes in her scenario.

"Do you see how this might work? A little strategic kindness mixed with flattery, an knowing hand offering new experiences, then he sets the hook hard with the promise of a long-term commitment. The setup is complete, and from then on he can keep running the con for as long as the mark will pay ... free sex-on-tap for a year."

She took a sip of coffee, then continued. "The lesson here is about trust: trust is earned, not given. Someone who is trustworthy will expect you to be careful, to verify what you are told, to rely on other trustworthy advice. They will not isolate you, ask you to take unnecessary risks or to act quickly. The only people who do that are trying to sell you something."

I shook my head. "He did none of those things. I initiated almost all of our encounters; I was in control of what we did."

She sat back. "That is how confidence games work. Everyone who gets hooked believes they were making their own decisions. He probably hoped that you would not openly discuss your relationship with anyone, since they might judge you for being involved with a relative. It could have been a calculated risk on his part. His rush to get you into a hotel room, however sweet you consider the gesture, along with the fact that he could find the cash for champagne, but not condoms, seems to damn him on the other two points squarely."

She leaned forward and ate the last few bites of her bagel while my stomach churned, then she stood, rinsed her plate and put it in the dishwasher. She then started to put away the rest of the food and finally picked up my plate. I no longer had an appetite.

She looked me hard in my eyes, "He could be exactly as he appears. I am not trying to kill your relationship, but you need to know, not think."

I glared back, "Even it your story is 100% true, he has very little upside picking me instead of trying for one of the friends I introduced him to. Because of the family relationship, if he does what you've said and hurts me, it hits him at home, with family connections, everywhere. And even if he was a player on his home turf, we connected in a way I have never felt before, and I believe he felt the exact same way."

She repeated, "KNOW, NOT THINK. What if he had a girlfriend on campus before he came out here, do you really think he went back and admitted he slept with someone over Christmas break and now needs to break up because he wants to remain faithful to her? Please."

I had a glimmer of an idea. "So let's put it to the test. Let's go on a road trip and find out. He has never seen you. I don't think I ever mentioned your real name anyway. Why don't we drive out there, scout around a little, see if you can meet his friends, maybe see if he'll ask you out. Then you will be able to see first hand some of what I saw when I got to know him."

BF looked thoughtful for a moment, then seemed to decide. "Our equal time deal still stands, no matter what, I still get one full week."

I sensed a victory. If she could just get to know him, if she could make peace with me wanting to be with him, I might be able to keep them both in my life. "I've already agreed to that. Nothing about that changes." She nodded.

Our trip to the clinic was uncomfortable, but uneventful. I was not pregnant, but the results of the other tests would take a few days. I couldn't start to take the pill until my next cycle, but we picked them up anyway. BF took me to lunch to celebrate, as she put it, "surviving my own stupidity." We began to make plans for our trip to see my boyfriend. I wasn't afraid of what we'd find, but I was worried how it might appear if he found out that we were spying on him. I didn't want to lose him either.