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Sometimes I never leave, but sometimes I would.
Sometimes I stay too long, sometimes I would.
Sometimes it frightens me
sometimes it would.
Sometimes I'm all alone, and wish that I could.
And then Suddenly, Last Summer.
The Motels.

"Señor Ray, Nick is on the phone."

"Thank you Anna."

Because his drafting work at a defense contractor was technically classified, when my roommate Nick needed to use the phone at work, he had to go to the receptionist's desk. That way, she could make sure he wasn't spilling secrets to the Soviets. Thus, I greeted him on the speakerphone in my best Russian voice, "Hello Comrade! Still do you bang hot secretary?"

Unlike my job, Nick's workplace had a strictly enforced zero tolerance policy for fraternization, as a condition of their Department of Defense contracts.

I heard a woman's voice chortling in the background before Nick spoke.
"Hey Ray! You up for the dollar theater tonight?"

"Sure, Nick. What's playing?"

It didn't really matter. The fun was drinking our smuggled beer and listening to the vibrant patrons' heckling.

He teased, "Well, there's a new Woody Allen film."

I played along, "Naw, let's watch that Oprah Winfrey one. The Color Purple."

Nick and the secretary laughed.

I wonder if she actually is hot...

"Ok, seriously Nick. What's playing?"

"Back To The Future is starting there tonight."

We had both seen it when it came out earlier that year, and loved it, though George McFly's awkward mannerisms reminded me of... myself. "I am sooo there! Nick, grab some brewskis on your way home, and I'll tell you about my day. Miss Giggles, nice talking to you again."

She snorted, "You're soo bad."

"I get that a lot, Babe. Hey, do you want to..."

  Nick cut me off. "Alright, you cretin. Later!"

  I smiled as he hung up, then pulled my least favorite paperwork out of the desk drawer.

Fuck. I hate making the work schedules. There's always someone crying, "It's not fair, why does she get the weekend off, and I have to close?"
Whiny bitches...

"Knock knock!"

I looked up from the desk, delighted to see Wendy. Her presence always brought me good feelings, alternating between friendship and lust. My sensual introduction to Erica had left me carnally drained, so a silly encounter with Wendy would be perfect.

"Who's there?"

She rolled her big blue eyes. Wendy could make that gesture funny, sexy, or both. "No, no. I was just saying hello."

"Oh. Hi. How are you, Wendy?"

Her perfectly shaped lips tightened. "Ray, it's been rough this week. I had to take my mother to the doctor yesterday, and we haven't got a diagnosis yet."

Eighteen-year-old Wendy had dropped out of community college, and taken a full time hourly supervisor position at the restaurant to help pay the rent. Her chronically ill mother had not been able to work, and her father had left a few years back. I tried to be a good friend to her, but grief made me very uncomfortable and useless. Fortunately, Wendy didn't expect much from me, and appreciated the little comfort I had to give.

"I'm sorry, Wendy."

That's all you got? Nick's right, you really are a cretin...

Wendy stared at me. She was a great friend, and wanted me to be a better person, so she occasionally pushed me. We had been through this routine a few times, so I knew what to do. Sort of.

Step one. Give her my full attention.

I put the schedule book in a drawer, then rested my pencil on the desk. A prop would just distract me.

Step two. Assume a welcoming posture and expression. Stop staring at her huge tits!

I directed a friendly smile at her gorgeous face, as she stifled a sneeze. She resembled Elizabeth Montgomery from the 1970's TV show Bewitched, especially when her nose twitched, and I wished she could cast a love spell on me. Being with Wendy would be a very sensible choice, but as yet, I had not felt much of a spark between us. I pushed my chair back from the desk, then gestured for Wendy to plant her curvy butt on the metal top. On previous flirty occasions, she had seductively crossed her legs towards me or blatantly left them open, but that day she tightly pressed them together.

Oh, shit. This is a serious talk...

"Uh, Wendy? What can I do to...help?"

I had learned that from my ex-girlfriend Rachel, who had also made small efforts to improve me, until her physical change made me lose interest in her.

Wendy tossed back her shoulder-length golden blonde hair, and laughed out loud. "That was really good, Ray. I'm proud of you, it must have been hard."

She understands me...

With the tension broken, Wendy reverted to her normal light flirtatious style. While running her index finger along the hem of her partially unbuttoned work blouse, she said, "I'm going to need to miss some shifts, but I still need the forty hours. Can I make up those shifts on other days?"

I drew a deep breath. She was essentially requesting to write her own schedule. Because Wendy was so valuable to me professionally, I had no problem with it, but other factors came into play.

Even though nothing romantic had happened between us, a small mutual attraction showed on our faces, body language, and words. She had been dating another coworker on and off for two months, but didn't seem too excited about him, and most of the store figured Wendy and I were at the very least, fuck-buddies. Granting her the favor could be perceived as unprofessional at best, and would confirm the rumors.

You know what? Fuck everyone else. It's Wendy...

"Sure, no problem. Whenever I'm here, you can come in. I'll have more of you..."

I smiled at her bust, prompting her to arch her back.

"...to myself."

  She nodded, "Thank you, I hope this will be temporary."

"Whatever you need, Wendy. Uh, is there anything else?"

She swung her foot lightly against my leg. "Yeah. How are you doing, Ray? You've seemed, I don't know. Sad, maybe?"

Sad. That's a good start, Wendy...

It had only been two weeks since I had been with Alice for the last time. Her morning words, "You weren't very romantic last night," had seemed like a finale to us at the time, but perhaps I had given them too much weight.

We had not actually broken up. I had just stopped calling and seeing her. Fifteen days. Half a month. It was not too late to resume our romance, and I missed her painfully. I could easily drive the twelve blocks to her apartment when I left work, and then... what?

Tell her I love you?

I don't know if I do...

Propose?

I've almost given her the garage-sale engagement ring a few times, but always hesitated.

I could marry her, as terrifying as it seemed. I know she loved me, and I may have been slowly falling in love with her. However, dealing with her lower sex drive and moods, had been a challenge when I only saw her a few times a month. Every-day Alice might be too frustrating for me.

None of that is really the problem...

My exhilarating afternoon had brought an insurmountable barrier to renewing a relationship with Alice:

I'm going to be with Erica...

Even if I had married my first potential love, Holly, at 19, and had formed a happy family-

Erica and I. It's inevitable.

Until I got Erica out of my system, I had no business committing to any woman, much less one as good as Alice.

Wendy continued, "See, right there. That's what I'm talking about. You get all down, out of nowhere."

If I tell anyone about Alice, then it's officially over. I'm not ready...

I blurted out suddenly, "Wendy, my life isn't going the way I wanted it to."

Impossibly, her huge blue eyes grew even bigger. "Oh. How did you want it to go?"

My head came to rest on the desk. "Different. I need to love... "

Shit, here it comes. No, not now. I can't do this here, in front of her...

I locked the desk drawer, stood up, then grabbed my coat. I only had a few seconds to leave before breaking down. "Bye, Wendy. I'll see you tomorrow night."

She look dismayed. "Do you want me to come over to your house after work? If you need to talk about it, or whatever."

Maybe some of the "whatever" would help...

My voice croaked, "Not tonight, Wendy, but tomorrow will be good."

The back door was propped open to receive a delivery, so I slipped out, thankful for the detour. A light rain gave me an excuse to put the jacket hood over my head, hiding trembling lips and moistening eyes. In a smooth practiced routine, I entered, started, and backed my 1972 Buick Riviera out of the tight space, then hurried to the back exit of the lot. A glance in the rear view mirror revealed Wendy standing outside the back door, with her arms tightly crossed.

I just hurt Wendy's feelings for the first time. It probably won't be the last...

Somehow, I went the wrong direction, then Alice's apartment loomed two blocks away. I could have turned back at any time, but instead I parked at the end of her block. It was good a place as any for my pity party. Shutting off the modified 455 engine's soothing rumble, signaled a flood of tears to pour down my face. Through the drizzled windshield, I could see the light on in Alice's shaded window, and wondered how she felt.

The right thing to do, would be to call her, or knock on her door, and explain everything to her. She probably wouldn't want to see me ever again, but it might bring her some closure.

I can't tell her...

Alice's smoldering beauty and my outsized attraction to her, would make me do and say whatever I had to, just to make love to her again.

Am I that much of a coward? Of course I am. I'm toxic to women. I don't think I'll ever love one, or even treat her well. Maybe I should accept that I'm a cad, and not care about their feelings. It's not like anything would be different...

Alice, I'm so sorry. You should hate me. Please hate me. I need it...

Uncontrolled sobbing tore excruciating spasms through my back. I fully deserved and welcomed the pain. A feminine shadow passed by Alice's window, and even through my torment, a lustful memory sprung up.

She's almost certainly wearing nothing but panties. God, she's so hot, how can I stay away from her?

Alice's long, thick nipples made wearing anything except silk uncomfortable, so she usually went topless as soon as she entered her apartment. Her unique bare chest had always driven me wild with desire, and would likely be what I remembered most about her, in forty years.

I forced that image down, then concentrated on how I had sabotaged all my relationships. Holly's speech impediment had left me without a clue as to how to be with her, but instead of consulting her, I had just abandoned the sweet and gorgeous redhead.

Likewise, I failed to be honest with Rachel about how I didn't like the extra forty pounds she had put on in our year together. When ghosting failed, I had done something truly horrible to make her hate me.

Neither of those came anywhere close to my regret for how I had treated Alice. Immaturity, along with an inability to put my desires and fears into words, had led me to repeatedly cheat on her, until I left her bed to be with quirky Tracy one night in August. When Alice found out, she did not dump me, but inexplicably wanted to give us a second chance. She even offered to meet me halfway with her desires. My guilt prevented me from fully accepting her, and the dread of hurting her again filled me with sadness every time I saw her. Perhaps if I had told her, "I love you," I wouldn't have so many doubts about remaining faithful to her.

It wouldn't matter. I'm still going to fuck Erica...

I sighed heavily. Alice wanted, needed and deserved better than me. I had to just let her go, so she could find that man.

What do I want, need, and deserve?

Erica?

Perhaps Anna is on to something...

Wiping the coating of tears, snot, and drool off my face, I drove up Alice's street. I chanced a wistful look, but saw nothing in her window. At the end of the block, an involuntary check of the rear view mirror stopped my heart when I saw her door open, so I sped up to get out of view. She must have heard the Riviera's distinctive exhaust note, which had accompanied us on so many dates. Hopefully, she didn't recognize the equally unique taillights.

She knows it's me. I should turn back, and be with her, where I belong.

Alice...

I kept driving through the red light. It was the last time I drove by her home, even four years later, when I repeatedly visited a woman who lived five blocks away from Alice. By then, so much more self inflicted pain troubled my heart, that Alice had become just another casualty.

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