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Chapter 6

When I got to the lab on Friday morning, the lobby was full of people waiting for tests. I wasn't late; for some reason a lot of folks got there early. It seems that Friday is just a busy day.

     In the lab itself, Joan was just sitting in a chair, not looking too well. First of all, I've never seen her just sitting down in the morning. Second, in the short time that I've known Joan, she's always looked terrific.

     "What's wrong? You don't look good."

     "I'm just a little dizzy. I'll be fine in a minute."

     "Have you been dizzy before like this?"

     "No. Well, for the past couple of weeks I haven't been feeling my best."

"Why don't you go to the lounge and lay down a little while? I'll handle everything here." I couldn't believe I was volunteering. Must have been a senior moment or something.

"I couldn't do that. We're so busy on Fridays."

I started getting my things ready for the day, when Joan put her head down and started crying. I went over to her and put my hand on her shoulder.

"Joan, what's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant," she sobbed. "I don't know how it happened. I'm always so careful."

"Are you sure that you're pregnant?" I sat down beside her.

"Yes. I had a test done at Atlantic City General. I'm pregnant."

She lifted up her head and I took her hand. "Tell me about it."

Just then, Gert, one of the receptionists, stuck her head in the door. "We got people stacked up out here. Can we move on it, please?"

"Just hold your horses," I yelled. "They're not going anywhere."

"Everything all right in there?"

"Everything's fine. We're just having our prayer session for the morning." She left.

"Now tell me what happened."

"I've been dating this great guy, Steve, for about six months now. He's been wonderful. We always use protection, I just don't understand it."

"You know that nothing, outside of surgery or just not doing it, is a hundred percent safe."

"But why did it have to happen to me?" She put her head down again and resumed crying.

"We have them standing in the aisles here, ladies. Get a move on it!" Gert again.

"Can't you see we're involved in something here?"

"Why is she crying?"

"That Regis show is being cancelled. Have you no heart!"

"Well, we have like 20 people out here now."

"Call me when you have 30."

She left, but I think she mumbled "bitch" as she turned around.

"Have you told him yet?"

"I did. Last night."

"And?"

"He was so wonderful."

"And?"

"He was so understanding."

"That's great."

"And he asked me to marry him."

"So why are you so upset? I thought you really liked the guy."

"I do. I'm just so happy" She started crying for real now.

Hormones can really get to you, I figured.

"Ladies, you have to start taking people. Now!" Gert.

"Just give us five minutes. That's all. Tell the people that we're waiting for a supply of needles. Do a strip tease. Do something, but just give us five more minutes."  Like Gert doing a strip tease would entertain anybody.

"If you don't start in five minutes, I'm gonna call Lipschitz."

"And if you call Lipschitz, I'll tell him about the vodka that you keep in that water bottle of yours."

"You wouldn't dare!"  Wow, what a lucky guess.

I stood up. "You want a piece of me now, Gert! Come on in!"

"You're nuts, you know that?"

"Just five minutes."

This time she said bitch loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Joan, go into the lounge and lay down. Do it now. We'll talk later. When you feel better, come back to the lab."

"But you can't..."

"I know I can't but I'll try. I'll take them in two at a time."

Joan only stayed in the lounge about fifteen minutes then came back to help. We cleared everyone out by noon, made nice to Gert, and talked like schoolgirls about weddings for the rest of the day.

 

******

 

      Early Saturday morning, I drove across Jersey to the Deptford Mall and met Marcie.  I wore my Shopping Spree earrings, each with a collection of enameled miniature credit cards and dollar signs. Marcie is a great gal, loves to shop, and loves to return things. I'll go shopping with her, but avoid the return trips.

I had to sit down as soon as I got to the mall, though, because I was having a bad hot spell. I bought a cool drink and just held the cup against my cheeks.

     We spent a few hours walking around the mall, making fun of people, and tormenting sales clerks -- Marcie's pretty good at it, but nowhere my caliber -– and had a light snack.

     When we were done, I changed into my Love Fries earrings with small hearts, and drove over to Cherry Hill to Ryan's place.  He hardly gave me time to put down my things, when he put his arms around me and gave me a wonderful, long kiss. I'd really missed him terribly and the kiss made me dizzy.

     "How was shopping with Marcie?"

     "It was fun, but tiring. You know, Marcie likes to walk through the entire mall just looking and comparing, and then through a second time to actually buy things. I did get a few little things. I'll show you later, just let me sit down and rest."

     I dropped my bags and sat down on the sofa.

     "Wouldn't you be more comfortable with your pants off?" he asked.

     "Very funny."

     "I was only thinking of you. Did you eat anything?" he asked me.

     "Yeah, we had a bite at the food court. Are you hungry?"

     "I'm fine. I just ate breakfast."

     Breakfast to Ryan is two donuts and a cup of instant coffee. When I'm with him I feel compelled to make sure he eats something healthy.

     We talked for about 30 minutes, but I didn't tell him about my encounters with Reynolds and Bruno.  Ryan is very protective of me, and I didn't want to get him upset when we had a nice weekend to look forward to.

     "What do you want to do this afternoon?" I asked.

     "I don't know. But I think I hear my penis making a few suggestions. Did you bring your patriotic socks?"

     "Sure did. I have them right here."

     "Why don't you put them on and meet me in the bedroom?"

     What Ryan meant was why don't I take everything off, put on just the socks, and meet him in the bedroom.  It took me about three minutes, and as I opened the bedroom door, Ryan was lying on the bed, naked.

     "Just stand there, still," he said. He sat up and looked at me. "You're so beautiful, Brooke.  That's my favorite outfit on you."

     He got out of bed and walked over to me. Folding his arms around me, he squeezed gently, pressing his body against me so we were touching head-to-toe.

     "I love your skin. I love your smell. I love you," he said. He buried his face in my hair, and then started slowly kissing my neck.

     I could only moan.  I felt him getting hard against me, and my own wetness warm within. He kissed my shoulders, then bent down and kissed my breasts and nipples. Then he kneeled down and kissed my stomach and then my legs.

     Ryan took my hand and led me over to the bed, in silence.  He lay down and pulled me on top of him so I could feel his full length. We kissed a few minutes, until I could take it no longer. I straddled him, enjoying his hardness and softness at the same time, weeks of waiting culminating in pleasure for both of us that was worth the anticipation.  

Chapter 7

     I made dinner Saturday night, rather than going out to eat.  Nothing fancy, just pasta in a garlic sauce, with a salad and homemade dressing. I brought the ingredients for the dressing and a few rolls that Ryan loves from home; we call it Atlantic City Bread.

"I have all the ingredients for the dressing in this bottle. Agitate it so it's no longer in suspension."

     "Do you mean shake it until it's mixed?"

     "That's what I said."

     "It looks too thick, though. Will it be too thick to pour?"  

     "Just invert it and shake."

     "Invert?" He came up to my back and pressed himself into me while I was facing the sink. I could feel his hardness against me and my own passion started to build. I turned and saw that his eyes had changed from the look of "let's make dinner" to "let's make love."

     "You know it makes me horny when you speak science. Talk more science to me baby."

     Ryan and I have a standard routine. As I work in the kitchen, Ryan periodically comes in and presses up against me, kissing the back of my neck and smelling my hair.  He does the same thing when I'm brushing my teeth, clearing the table, picking my nose, whatever. When I'm brushing my teeth in the morning, he comes in, lifts up my nightgown, and kisses my behind. I tell him that it annoys me, but he knows I really love the attention.

     It also works two ways. I love feeling his legs on mine while we sleep. I love lying in bed holding him between his legs, feeling him grow. A warm, sensual feeling goes from my hand thru my entire body even to my toes.  I love feeling him through his jeans, the shape of his most manly member makes me smile and long for him. I get all warm and dizzy when he holds me tight and kisses me.

     One thing about Ryan, he knows more euphemisms for sex than anyone else on the planet.

     "Want to play airlines, and I'll park in your terminal?"

     "Want to be a pen and I'll fill you with Ryan ink?"

     "Want to be an atom and I'll bombard your nucleus?"

     And he doesn't keep it just at home either.

     In the market, it's "Want to make love in the ice cream bin?" 

     At the video store, I hear "Ever think about having sex in the comedy section for a laugh?"

     Even in the library, it's "How about if we go to the periodicals section and I'll subscribe to your vagina?"

     That night was no different than others. We kissed and hugged in the kitchen as I made dinner.

     My relationship with Ryan has been great. It's been one of the longest I've had but not the first. Until I met Ryan my taste in men was pretty bad, or I just had the bad luck to connect to a series of losers. I was starting to think that not all men are annoying jerks, some are dead.

Take Anthony, for example. We were a couple for about three years and it looked like the real thing. We even planned a trip together, to Vegas, and I had this feeling he was going to ask me to marry him. I pictured one of those Elvis weddings.

     The day before the trip my mother died. I was devastated. There was just no way I could go away and I figured Anthony would understand.  Only thing is, Anthony did not understand.  Anthony cashed in my ticket and went to Vegas by himself. When he came back he already had a new girlfriend.

     At first I was distraught, and I even got more so when they announced their wedding. But the night of the wedding, instead of going on their honeymoon, Anthony ran away with one of the bridesmaids and left his new bride in tears. I think he finally came back to her and moron took him back.

     Then there was George.  He came along when I was 40 but feeling more like 80. I was worried that I was getting too old and set in my ways to ever have a decent relationship.  For two years, George and I were almost inseparable, and we talked about marriage.

     Then one day George dropped the bomb. He had fallen in love with the little bimbo who sold popcorn at the megaplex. She must have been half his age.

     "What does she have that I don't have?" I asked.

     "Nothing. She's just had it for a lot less years."

     With Ryan, things were different. We feel very comfortable together, respect each other. I know that he's not perfect, just that he thinks I am. 

 

******

    

After dinner on Saturday, we drove over to the bookstore and we had what Ryan likes to call one of my "little shopping adventures."

When I packed for the weekend, I threw in the bag these cool clogs that I hadn't worn in years. Clogs were starting to come back in. After dinner I put on a nice jeans outfit and my clogs. The sky was overcast, so I grabbed a light jacket before we went down to the car.

     By the time we got to the bookstore it was pouring so we had to run into the store. I love big bookstores, browsing among the shelves, sipping a mocha latte. Soon I heard a commotion going on among the staff, something about cookie crumbs all over the floor, but I found my time peaceful nonetheless.

     I browsed through the fiction department, then biography, music and art.

     "It's all over the place," someone said.

     "Some kid is dropping cookie crumbs or some sort of dirt."

     "That's disgusting. His parents should be ashamed of themselves."

     The floor was pretty dirty, with trails of dirt all over the place. I couldn't believe how inconsiderate some people were.  I was even stepping on the stuff and having trouble walking.

Just then Ryan tapped me on the shoulder.

     "What's that trail of crap you're leaving behind?"

     "Very funny. They said some kid is spreading dirt."

     "There's no kid, it's coming from you. Just look, I can follow your path like the yellow brick road."

     Oh my god.  I looked at my shoes -- I was down to these small metal stubs. The cork heals must have dry rotted over the years and when they hit the rainwater started to disintegrate. I knew I hadn't worn these things in a long time, but it must have been longer than I thought.

     "Quick let's get out of here, before someone figures it out," I said.

     "But I wanted to buy a few things."

     "Okay, I'll meet you in the car. Give me your keys."  I ducked out the side door and hobbled over to Ryan's car, one of those SUVs. About five minutes later, Ryan came out with a small bag.

     "You're safe," he said. "I don't think anyone knew it was you. There was a trail right through the place, everywhere you walked."

     We went back to his place, I threw away the clogs, and we settled in for the evening.
     During the night I woke up in a stupor. My nightgown was on the floor and I had already thrown off the blankets from on top of me. Ryan was gripping the blanket around his neck trying to keep his share of it on.  I was hot as hell and sweating, and when I got up to open the window, I heard Ryan moan.

     "It's so hot in here," I said to myself out loud.

     "It's not hot in here," a voice came back.

     "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

     "You didn't wake me."

     "That's good."

     "Not good. You didn't wake me because you never let me fall asleep.  Every time you threw off the blanket, it came off of me too."

     "But it's so hot in here."

     "Only to you. To normal people this is what we call cool."

     "I'll be okay with the window open, I promise."

     In the morning, Ryan's penis always wakes up before the both of us, if it even sleeps at all. It must have its own alarm clock.  I rolled over and found it sticking straight up. Sometimes I wake up and find Ryan leaning on his arm and just staring at me, smiling, with his penis pointing at me. I'm lying there with dried drool on my face, and he's staring at me like a puppy dog.  I know what he wants. Ryan, and his penis, are morning people.

     "You got to be kidding," I usually say. "It would be like making love to a dead person. Can't you wait a few hours for me to wake up?"

     Sometimes he does, but most of the time he starts kissing me, at first slowly, like he's trying not to wake me up, but then with a little more passion. He rolls me over, no matter which way I started out, and kisses me some more, shoulders, chest, arm, and legs. If I'm lying on my stomach, he rests his head on my behind.

     "Go back to sleep," he might say, and for a minute he lies still, but then he starts kissing again, slowly, all over. Eventually my vagina wakes up, even if I can't get my eyes open, and we enjoy each other all over again.  

     That Sunday morning was no disappointment.

     We spent the rest of Sunday morning reading the newspaper, and then went over to his gym for a workout.  I did a kick boxing class while Ryan worked out with free weights. We went back to his place and showered together.  Ryan was kind enough to make sure that I had the cleanest breasts and thighs a woman could have.  Then we drove over to the mall and strolled around a little while.

     In one of the stores I found a nice sweater I liked, but I had a little trouble buying it. I took the sweater up to the cash register, but the clerk was on the phone making what was obviously a personal call.

     "You'll find it in the freezer. Just take it out to defrost. When I get home I'll finish cooking it."

     She didn't look over to me or acknowledge that a customer was standing there. That is one of the things I really hate. She talked for another minute and I finally said "Excuse me, can I buy this here?"

     She looked at me and held up a finger that meant "one minute." I wanted to hold up a different finger, but I waited about 30 seconds, listening to her give cooking instructions to her kid at home, and then said "Could you continue your personal call later? This is a place of business."

     Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ryan slip away into the safety of the dress department. He usually does that when he thinks that a battle is about to erupt.

     "I won't be long," she said.

     "You've already been long enough. Shouldn't customers come first?"

     She just frowned and continued talking on the phone. Then I did my Brooke special.  I reached over the counter and started pressing keys on the register.

     "What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

     "Obviously you don't work here, so I'll handle this sale myself."

     "You can't do that!"

     "Would you like to call your supervisor and explain why I am doing it?" I looked at my watch. "I've been timing you since you picked up that phone, even before I came over here. I think your boss would be interested in how you spend company time."

     "All right, I'll get off the phone."

     "Gee, thanks for the favor."

     By the time she finished the sale, Ryan must have heard the all-clear whistle and made his way out of ladies dresses and back to the register.

     "All ready?" he asked.

     "All done. But I have one thing I want to buy at that lingerie store in the mall."

     "My favorite place," he said.

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