Requital

"Remember when we started meeting together?" he asked. "We agreed that either of you could say anything to the other that you needed to get out, right? This was to be a forum where either, or both, of you could say whatever you felt necessary." He let the silence continue for a moment while both of his clients nodded. Mr. Houston turned to Barbara.

"Mrs. Curtis," he said formally, "what do you have to say to your husband about the events that have transpired over the past week?"

Barbara looked speculatively at him, and then at Steve. She was quiet for a long moment. Then she let the dam on her emotions break wide open.

"Howcouldyou?" she cried. "Howcouldyou do that to me?"

Steve didn't bother to deny part of what he'd done had been directed at her. He had no interest in disguising his motives at all.

"Because you couldn't hear me when I said you didnotunderstand the hurt and the empty feeling in my gut," he explained. "You kept saying you did, but you didn't," he said scornfully. "Anything you were feeling was damned trivial beside what I was having to deal with…but you kept at me. Everydayit was the same thing. You, or your Mom, or your Dad…someone was always telling me I was overreacting, that it wasn't all that serious, that I was making too much of it.

"Well, now youdoknow," Steve said harshly. "Now you know how it feels to have someone so beautiful, wholesome, and so incredibly precious taken from you. Now you know what it's like to have an exquisitely wonderful image like that shattered,don'tyou, Barbara?"

He leaned back in his seat breathing hard. His fingers were dancing on the chair arm in agitation.

Mr. Houston and Barbara were silent. They looked at him, each with their own thoughts.

"You didn't have to have sex with her," Barbara said more calmly. "You could have just brought Dad the videos. That would have been enough." Steve nodded in agreement.

"You're absolutely right, I could have," he said. "Butyouneeded to lose something more in all this, dear. I lost my wife, Kimberly lost her innocence, and now…for at least a couple of weekends…you lost your husband to your baby sister," Steve said bitterly. "Now we're all even," he told her. "Everybody's hurt and nobody's a winner."

Barbara stared at him. She didn't know Steve had been capable of saying such cruel things. A stray thought ran through her mind. She wondered if hehadbeen capable of such harshness before he'd caught her with Rafe. She didn't like that thought.

"Besides," Steve continued unexpectedly, "the sex was the least part of the whole thing with your sister…I was just one more guy sticking a dick into her in a long line of guys doing the same thing and for me, it was just a way of getting out of all this."

Barbara looked at him questioningly, though she didn't ask him what he meant.

"Don't you get it, Barbara?" Steve said softly. "Did you watch all those videos?" he asked. Barbara's face instantly turned a bright pink.

"Only one," she said.

"You saw enough," Steve assured her. "You saw your little sister fucking all those guys in every way she could, right?"

Barbara nodded. She was embarrassed by the memory of the video and by Steve's language. She didn't want to extend the embarrassment by objecting to the words he chose to use.

"You saw her taking them all on, one at a time and in groups…and all the guys were doing it "bareback" the whole time, right?" Her face flushed even redder, Barbara nodded shortly.

"Do you think I wasn't doing the same thing? You know I hate the feel of condoms on me, right?"

Barbara nodded sharply. Steve waited but his wife said nothing.

"Don't you get it, Barbara?" he asked. "Kimberly had no clue about safe sex. She's probably got every sexually transmitted disease known to mankind…and she gave them all to me." He waited again.

"Barbara…Barbara," he said reprovingly, "you know my medical history…I'm violently allergic to penicillin and every drug that is a derivative of it. I seriously doubt the docs will be able to cure what I've got churning around inside my body now…and if she's HIV positive…if she gave me AIDS…there's no hope at all, is there?"

Barbara looked at her husband in horror. Shehadforgotten. She knew Steve had almost died as a baby when a shot of penicillin had been administered for a much less serious ailment.

"Why?" she whispered. "You didn't have to do that." Steve shrugged wearily.

"Because I was tired of hurting all the time, Barbara. Because you wouldn't let me be. I couldn't get away and let any healing start. You kept the pain front and center in my mind all the time."

"If it's any consolation, I'm not sure I feel that way anymore. I wish I hadn't had sex with Kim…I'm ashamed of having done it. But when the opportunity happened, I was so damned depressed I couldn't see a way out."

Steve sat up in the chair and glanced at the counselor. Mr. Houston was looking back at him with something of the same shock his wife was showing. Steve got up and walked slowly to the door. He turned back just before pulling the door shut.

"I told you a long time back, Mr. Houston. I told you I was having some ideas about suicide, didn't I? You know I did. You scribbled down some notes when I said it.

"Well, I don't know for sure if I've killed myself by having sex with my wife's sister, but at the time Kim was with me, I just didn't care," he said again.

"It's too late now, Barbara," he said, looking at his wife. "But for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

He closed the door gently, but firmly, and walked away.

********

Barbara caught up with him in the parking lot outside. Steve was surprised, but it was a small one beside the earlier one of Barbara's arrival.

"Steve! Wait!"

He turned around to see his wife walking quickly through the double doors that led from the ground floor to the parking lot. She had a look of determination on her face. She was also more than a little mad. She clutched at his arm when she came up to him.

"Are you through feeling sorry for yourself now?" Barbara demanded.

For a moment, Steve was tempted to throw her anger back at her. He was quiet while he got his temper under control. He gave his wife a half-smile.

"Yeah…I think I am," he said quietly.

Hehadbeen disturbed to find something of that within himself just this afternoon. He'd quashed the "poor me" feelings down to nothing, making himself face what he'd done in a fit of deep depression with Kimberly.

He was more than a little sorry he'd done it. He wished he hadn't exposed himself to all the STD's he expected Kim had, but there was nothing he could do about it at this late date.

Barbara's eyes flicked from one feature to another across his face, searching for some reassurance her husband was on an even keel. To hear that he had considered suicide…that he might have effectively done so…was enormously disconcerting. She didn't know what to do about it. She'd not considered it before hand and wasn't prepared to deal with it. She decided to just go ahead and do what she'd planned to do tonight anyway.

"Coffee!" she said emphatically, pointing at the Denny's across the street.

Steve looked at the brightly lit restaurant and shrugged his shoulders. He didn't have a problem with drinking a cup with his wife. In passing, though, he wondered if he could have done it with her three weeks ago. Clearing the air, so to speak, by having unprotected sex with Kim and then admitting…well, it might have been just what he needed…so to speak.

He was calm again, though the deep peace he'd felt before the session began was gone. He surprised himself. Somewhere along the line, a confidence in himself he'd thought he'd lost forever was beginning to reassert itself. He didn't mind dealing with Barbara.

********

"I want to come home," Barbara told him without any preliminaries.

They'd barely been seated at a booth in the corner. Steve was caught by surprise. It was becoming a trend.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said finally. "Nothing's changed, Barbara."

"The hell it hasn't," Barbara retorted. "You've fucked my sister six ways from Sunday, Steve. That wipes out the piddling little hand jobs I gave Mr. Raphael and then some, Mister. Now's a real good time for us to reevaluate some things, don't you think?"

The waitress brought them two steaming cups of coffee. Steve smiled and thanked her. He took a moment to stir two teaspoons of sugar into the coffee. Finally, he couldn't think of a way he could stall any longer. He looked up at Barbara.

"It doesn't, you know," he said. "What I did doesn't wipe out anything you did. When I was with your sister, you'd already broken our wedding vows. So far as I'm concerned, the marriage was null and void as of the first minute of the first day you were alone with that asshole."

Barbara leaned closer across the table. She whispered but Steve had no problem understanding her.

"I have already apologized to you a thousand times for all of that," she said, tapping her fingernail on the hard plastic tabletop. "I've told you I understand how wrong I was so many times I can't count them, and I've admitted I was stupid and that I donothave any excuse for what I did.

"I can't be any sorrier than I am, Steve. I can't submerge myself any deeper in remorse, and I've done everything I can think of to get it through to you that I want to make it up to you by being the woman you want for the rest of our lives. That's all I can do, Steve! Can't you see that?" She paused. She saw the indecision on her husband's face.

"Damn you, Steve, we had some good years together," Barbara said angrily. "Are you so damned sure of yourself that you can throw it all away because of a few dumb shit things that make even me sick to my stomach? Can't you see I could neverforcemyself to do them ever again?"

Steve rocked back in the hard bench seat looking intently at his wife. There was no deceit in her eyes…but he'd been fooled before. He started to speak, stopped before he began, cleared his throat with a low cough, and began again.

"No," he admitted, "I'm not sure of much of anything anymore except that I can't stand the thought of you sharing yourself with another man. I'm not just talking about the sex, Barbara, that was pretty…uh, strange and…uninteresting...I guess is the right word.

"I'm also talking about the evenings when you sat like a lump on the other end of the sofa looking off into space while you thought about Raphael or whoever. I'm talking about the kisses I didn't get, the little smiles, the touches…I'm talking about every tiny thing you did for another man when you could have been doing them with me."

Barbara's eyes glistened wetly. She bent low to retrieve her purse from the floor at her feet. She pulled out the tissue every woman has in her purse and dabbed at the corner of her eyes.

"I know," she said in a husky voice. "I was a fool. I loved sharing those kind of things with you and I miss them badly. But you've withdrawn yourself from me over the past few months. This time, it's been you who made it impossible for those little kisses…the smiles and touches. But I'm not interested in whether we're equal now, Steve. I just want to get those times back, Steve. All you've got to do is give me a chance."

Steve watched as she put the tissue away. She put her purse on the seat beside her this time.

"Oh…I don't know, Barbara. I--"

His wife cut him off.

"What've you got to lose?" Barbara asked quietly. Steve frowned at her, baffled and thrown off balance for the umpteenth time this evening. He swallowed some coffee. It was still too hot and he burned his tongue. Setting the cup down hurriedly made some spill on the table and he used a napkin to wipe it up.

"Well?" Barbara asked when he was finished. She'd watched all the byplay without moving a muscle.

Steve sighed softly to himself. What in the hell was a man supposed to do in situations like this? Things were happening too fast. His head was spinning. Earlier, he was looking forward to a final split with his wife. He was sure she would hate him now and that would be the deciding factor in her letting him go. An hour later, Barbara was asking him to set aside what she had done to him as she was setting aside everything he'd done in the past few days and at least let her move back in.

All his training said she had a good point; all his instincts told him his wife was just playing him. He was confused. This wasn't what should be happening. Barbara shouldn't want…

He admitted it. She was right. Everything considered, he didn't have anythingmoreto lose. What difference would it make? Besides, he'd kicked her out once. He could do it again. Nothing material would change.

"All right," he said carefully.

Barbara held herself still for a long moment, then breathed out a breath she'd been keeping in too long. She smiled nervously. She looked around the restaurant for a moment, caught off guard by Steve's acceptance of her proposal.

"I'm hungry," she announced. Steve blinked. He hadn't been able to anticipate a damned thing that had happened tonight. On the other hand…

"I could eat," he said, agreeing with her.

********

When they finished their impromptu late dinner, they talked for a while. They were careful to keep the topics neutral. Both found themselves enjoying the small talk in spite of themselves, in spite of what had happened the past week and tonight. It was getting late though, and both had to work tomorrow.

"Do you want me to call you a cab?" Steve asked, once they were outside. The night was refreshing without being uncomfortably cold. Barbara looked around at him.

"I told you I wanted to come home," she said, "and you said yes."

"You mean--"

He gave up before the protest passed his lips. He'd been outmaneuvered all night long, it seemed. Why should this exchange be any different? The evening had started out so promising too.

"What about your clothes?" he asked as they neared his pickup. "Don't you have to…?"

Barbara pointed into the passenger cab. Steve looked. On the wide bench seat rested two big suitcases. He sighed and unlocked the door.

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" he grunted. Lifting the luggage over the high sides into the truck bed wasn't easy. They were damned heavy.

"No," Barbara said sweetly, "my Nony was sure ofyouthough."

Steve threw a startled glance at her, nearly losing his grip on the second bag. He worked it back over the side and let it drop into the bed. He turned away without saying anything and stopped halfway around to the passenger side door.

"Hey…oh!" He answered his own question before he voiced it.

"You never took my key," Barbara explained unnecessarily. "Iwillneed a new house key," she added delicately.

"Right," Steve answered, shrugging. He'd thought about the key to the pickup months ago but it hadn't seemed important. The new house key was a given, now that he was letting her move back in.

"Lydia was sure you could work me huh?" he asked half-resentfully. He opened Barbara's door and handed her up to the high seat.

"No," Barbara said after he'd gotten in and closed his own door. "But she said you wouldn't allow yourself to be unreasonable beyond a certain point. She said you couldn't do that anymore than you could sprout wings and fly. Nony has a lot of faith in you, you know. She's pretty sure you hung the moon," Barbara told him.

Steve rolled his window down to take advantage of the cool night air.

"Nonyis playing God again," Steve muttered just before he started the engine.

********

Sound travels well at night, particularly across hard pavement and when there are no traffic noises. What he said was heard by the old woman sitting quietly in the darkened car.

"I'm not playing God," Lydia said softly as the pickup gathered speed and moved quickly down the street. "I'm playing Cupid, you big lug. You just keep on being the man you are…and we'll all get through this without hurting each other too much more." She watched the truck vanish as it turned a corner.

Lydia and her part-time chauffeur, handyman, gardener, and sometime cook had sat here for hours, waiting while Lydia's favorite couple met with the counselor and then watching them through the big windows in the brilliantly lit restaurant as they talked. Now they were driving away together. Lydia hadn't dared hope for that, though she and Barbara had planned for it.

"We can go now, Phil," Lydia said.

"Okie dokie," he replied. "Say…you did say double overtime for this night work, right?"

"Hah!" Lydia retorted. "I said time and a half, you thief, and you're lucky to get that."

"Yes, ma'am," Phil said.

He was going to get double pay for the evening and he knew it. Lydia did too, though she had actually promised only the lesser amount. Before they got back to Lydia's house, she would be feeling guilty about having kept him out and away from his family until late. Phil smiled to himself as he drove.

********

When they got home, Steve carried Barbara's bags inside. He hesitated for a moment just inside the door. Barbara did not. She set off down the hall and into the master bedroom. Steve followed her, standing in the doorway while Barbara looked around.

She found nothing particularly out of place. The carpets had been recently vacuumed, there were no bad odors, and the bed was neatly made. There was a faint scent of cinnamon stick in the air. It was Steve's favorite air freshener. She inspected the bed closely.

"Never," Steve said from the doorway. Barbara nodded her acceptance. Kimberly had told her they did it all in the living room, usually on the carpeted floor.

"If you want to sleep on the couch, I'll make it out into a bed," Steve offered.

"Don't even go there," Barbara shot back. She turned to face him with her fists on her hips.

"You told me once you hadn't done a damn thing for me to make you sleep on the couch," she reminded him. "Well, Buster, I haven't done a damn thing you haven't done too…and I'm going to sleep in my bed tonight. Is that all right with you?" she asked belligerently.

"Did Nony tell you to say that too?" he asked.

"Nope," she answered spiritedly. "That was all me."

"Okay," Steve said with a faint smile. "It's up to you," Steve remarked in a dispassionate voice, "but we're not going to--"

Barbara sniffed expressively.

"You can count on that," she assured him. Steve nodded.

"Then wedohave something we can agree on," he said quietly.

He slipped back out the door and went to the kitchen for a Coke. His throat was dry and he needed something to do while Barbara put up her clothing.

********

Barbara had been cold and distant…or openly antagonistic…for eight or nine months before Steve caught her with Raphael Porter in the park. He'd gotten accustomed to not even seeing her while they were separated. It hadn't been too difficult an adjustment. The anger had made it easy to get used to her not being around.

Then he'd been ambushed by Barbara showing up on the evening he'd forecast as punctuating the end of his marriage. He'd thought all the loose ends were tied up in a neat little bow and he could let go of it all. He'd assumed that what he had done by exposing Kimberly's addiction, and fucking her too, would be the knife stroke that would cut their relationship off once and for all. When she shown only a momentary fury and then let it drop, he'd been puzzled. Of course, he'd walked out of the session just then, but still…

Then she'd caught up with him, got him to go for coffee, and presented logical reasons why he should let her back into the house. He hadn't been prepared with any kind of counterargument. He kept wondering how he'd been maneuvered into the position in which he found himself.