The Mistress and the Mouse

by JJ Giles

  Morgan burst into laughter. But she only patted his arm and handed him his underwear. “If I were you, I’d make some reservations.” Yet she studied him intently seeing something she never noticed before. Sometimes boys just want a mommy. Little boys love their mommies but they don’t screw them. Or do they?

  “I’ve got ten acres out near Commercial Point,” he said. “She decorated my house, looks like a frickin’ magazine. Did you know you have to have three different sets of dishes? Depending on the meal, the dinnerware has to compliment it. Who knew?”

  “Then I assume your back yard looks like a frickin’ magazine, too?”

  He huffed. “My backyard is a meadow.”

  “And that encourages romance?” she asked diffidently.

  “With the cows next door?”

  Thinking of her own English garden and the time she’d spent there making love, she said, “Then what you need out there is a stream with fish in it, lovely towering trees and shrubs to hide yourselves, perhaps a gazebo filled with thick cushions. The stars overhead, a soft floral scented breeze...”

  “Yeah,” he whispered dreamily.

  “You got money?”

  “Yeah.”

  She went to the kitchen to retrieve a picture postcard. “This is my English Garden,” she said.

  “Wow,” he whispered. He turned it over and read:

  Heaven’s Gate

  Brian Alexander, Landscape Architect

  “I saw this guy’s display at the Home and Garden Show.”

  Feeling a chill wash down her spine, she said, “He’s a friend of mine. But if you should call him, don’t mention me. I don’t talk about what I do for a living with my friends. You understand.”

  “Sure...of course. I picked this up at the Home and Garden Show.”

  “See you next week,” she said softly. “No intercourse.”

  “Right. Thanks.” Quickly, he slid the card into his pocket and made for the door.

  * * * *

  Her work done for the day, she went to the bedroom, undressed and turned on the TV. Only a few times she and Brian had slept in this bed, but she remembered them well. Why the hell couldn’t she quit thinking about him? Dismally, watched a Dom with a male slave, her favorite thing, but she couldn’t focus on that. She could only think of the times she took Mouse to the club, let a Dom have him, and the way Mouse seemed to revel in the power and glory of that penetration.

  “Madame,” Kitty cried. She plopped the pizza on the bed, but Morgan only stared in horror, an extra large and Kitty immediately remembered her error. In horror, Morgan opened the lid to see that it was half garbage, Mouse’s favorite, everything but the scraps out of the sink, and half pepperoni for her and Kitty. Morgan’s hands slid over her eyes and such a wounded yowl escaped her throat.

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Kitty cried. “I just picked up the usual at the parlor. I’m so sorry.” She flew into the bed, her arms around Morgan as Morgan screamed in pain and rocked with the contraction in her heart.

  * * * *

  Alex Abernathy sat at his desk a moment longer, wondering. Should he or shouldn’t he? Years since he’d actually spoken to his twin brother, years since his brother had spoken to him. How desperately he had missed Jerry over the years. How much he had embarrassed Jerry over the years. But that connection between twins was telling him Jerry needed help.

  Alex went to the elevator and pushed forty-nine. The worst Jerry could do was tell him to get lost, don’t come back, you’re queer, I hate you. Yes, that was the very worst and he’d heard it all before even though it stilled his heart. Yet, he lingered in the waiting area of the executive suite. Rather than go to Jerry, he went to Bryant.

  Through the opened door, Alex noted Bryant finishing up for the day. “Got a minute?”

  “Alex,” Bryant said warmly. “Shut the door.” Quickly, he rose to get Alex a glass of wine.

  “Thank you,” Alex whispered. He took the glass and sipped his favorite wine. “How you been?”

  Bryant fell into his desk chair, weary after another long day and peered at his brother. It had been awhile since he’d spent any time with Alex. Alex was aging quite gracefully but then Alex didn’t suffer the stress Jerry did. For two men living in identical bodies the contrasts couldn’t be more vivid.

  Alex had taken estrogen all of his life, had his nose and face reconstructed to soften the angularity. Alex never worked out like Jerry did and was slender, almost slight rather than filled out and muscular. Jerry kept his hair short around back with a little in front. Alex’s hair grew more profusely and he dyed it.

  Rather than tell Alex how he really was, that his own life was a shambles, his kids spoiled brats who never had time for their father, his fourth wife hating them as much as they hated her and wanting a few of her own, he asked, “What’s the matter, Alex?”

  Alex looked away and nestled deeper in the chair. Nervously, he crossed his legs. “How’s Jerry?”

  Bitterly, Bryant smiled. Thirty-seven years ago Alex and Jerry parted company and they’d never reconciled. Bryant had witnessed the devastation first hand. Only a year separated Bryant from his twin brothers and as kids they had been close. Bryant was still in high school when that changed.

  “Stressed,” he said sadly. “Miserable. Scared. Blaming himself.”

  A single tear dripped from the corner of Alex’s eye. “It’s not his fault.”

  “No, it’s not. Maybe you can make him believe that.”

  Alex sat quietly, yet obviously miserable himself.

  “Talk to me, Alex,” Bryant prodded.

  “I miss him,” he gasped. He held his hand over his mouth feeling the most intense pain in freeing that sentiment. The pain hadn’t softened over the years. It only grew deeper into his soul.

  “Alex,” Bryant started to gain his brother’s attention. “Things are changing for Jerry. I can’t say I know what precipitated it. I don’t know if it’s because Cheryl is acting up again, or maybe Brian. I do know he’s seeing some woman, a woman Brian recommended.”

  “She’s a sex therapist, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah. From a very extensive investigation, damned successful, too. I’ve seen her around here quite a lot. And Jerry looks different. He’s not so aggravated all the time.”

  “What could she be doing for him that would have such a profound effect?”

  “Can’t say I know that, Alex. I walked in the other day and they were just sitting there talking about Brian and Cherry. So maybe she’s part sex therapist and part shrink. Whatever it is, she’s helping, I think.”

  Still, Alex was quiet and refusing to meet Bryant’s gaze.

  “Alex, what is it?”

  Alex shook his head. “I still don’t understand why that after Dad died we couldn’t be together again.”

  “Uhhh...Cheryl...obviously,” Bryant rasped. “She’s put Jerry through nine kinds of hell, Alex. Frankly, I don’t know what’s kept him from killing her. I’m not sure I could muster the kind of restraint letting her live would require.”

  “But he’s moved out of the Mansion.”

  “I know,” Bryant said softly.

  “If Jerry actually divorces her, what will happen to the company?”

  Bryant winced. Physically, he shook. “I don’t know. She’s trying to negotiate half of Jerry’s stock now, which would be disastrous.”

  “And this thing could draw out for years?”

  “Yep. If I know Cheryl at all, she would sell it to our competitors to fuck us rather than leave it to her children.”

  Alex’s features knotted in agreement. “I don’t know what I can do.”

  “I do,” Bryant said quickly. “Let him know you still care.”

  Feeling the sharpness of that as his stomach convulsed, Alex prayed, “Oh, God.”

  “Alex,” Bryant whispered. Quietly, he rose out of the chair and rounded the desk. Gently, he picked Alex up and hugged at him. “He might not know it yet, but he needs you. Just stop in
and say hi if nothing else.”

  Alex clung a moment longer and then let go. “Right,” he murmured. “The worst he can do is tell me to go to hell.”

  Curious, Bryant stared. “What is this rift between you about anyway?”

  “Brian,” Alex said unabashedly.

  “What about Brian? What could Brian have to do with it?”

  Without will, Alex fell back to the chair. “I know this sounds ridiculous, Bryant. Cheryl called me one day and said she needed to talk to me about Jerry. Like an idiot, I went to her hotel. She told me Dad was forcing himself on her and she didn’t want to go there. I accepted the drink she offered and a few minutes later I was lying paralyzed on the floor. I’m sure Dad gave her the drug, whatever it was. A few minutes after that, she was fucking me.”

  Knowing his brother never had even a fleeting interest in women, Bryant gasped, “Oh, for shit’s sake.”

  “I’ve never told this to anyone before. I couldn’t move a muscle in my body, but I could watch her raping me.”

  “Oh, Alex.” Tenderly, Bryant gathered Alex back into his arms. “Now I understand. Brian could be yours or Jerry’s and we’ll never know for certain because you’re twins. Dad very effectively parted you two with that little maneuver.”

  Alex could do nothing more than sob at the moment. To relive that horror with Cheryl, a woman he would suffer no reticence to murder, was agony. And to know that Jerry had wanted Brian so badly he had refused Alex any say in the matter was worse than rape. It was killing him.

  But Alex wouldn’t be refused. “I got in a fight with Jerry about it,” he admitted. “It was the most bitter and intense thing I could have imagined. Jerry already knew that Brian could possibly be mine. I insisted on my rights as a father or an uncle very early in Brian’s life. Jerry relented only with the promise that I would never say anything to Brian about it, would forever remain his uncle or suffer a restraining order to stay away.”

  “Yeah, but you were hanging out with Brian and Cherry when they were just kids.”

  Alex huffed and backed away.

  “Alex, the old man had something to do with that,” Bryant insisted. “Certainly, Dad was still alive when that went down.”

  “Yeah,” Alex murmured.

  Quietly, Bryant sighed. “Go to him, Alex. You know the kind of pressure Dad put on Jerry...constantly. Ten times worse than the rest of us put together. I’m not sure any of us mattered to Dad other than Jerry.”

  Consternation filled Alex’s features.

  “And think about this,” Bryant whispered. “Before Jerry created the division you manage now, there was no such thing. I could venture a guess that Jerry wanted you around...to keep you close to him.”

  “I don’t think so,” Alex insisted.

  “Alex,” Bryant whispered. Forcefully, he took Alex’s shoulders and commanded his attention. “I refuse to believe that the relationship you and Jerry once shared could be destroyed by someone like our father. If what you and Jerry had could be so easily destroyed, even by the Son of Satan, then there’s no hope for any of the rest of us. So please. Make me a believer.”

  His tears profuse, he laid his face to Bryant’s shoulder and wept while Bryant held him. In time, he gasped, “You’re right, Bryant.” That familiar tingling sensation collected into rage. “The old man did this and goddamnit, he’s not gonna do it anymore.”

  Bryant smiled as he stood back a little. “Jerry needs you,” he insisted. “If you can forgive him and he can accept that, what more could he do for you?”

  “Oh, God,” Alex shuddered, daring to think on it. “We weren’t just kids doing the kid thing, were we?”

  Bryant huffed a little. “No. Even I can remember thirty seven years back. What happened to you and Jerry that day fucked me up, too, Alex. I would have never thought a human being could suffer that kind of damage and survive.”

  Embittered but no longer powerless, Alex nodded. “Thanks,” he whispered solemnly. “See you later.”

  Alex wound through the corridors of the executive suites to re-enter the lobby. Jerry’s door was ajar and it was quiet behind the door. Quietly, he knocked.

  “Yeah.” The voice was dismal.

  Alex only cracked the door. His voice consciously controlled, he said, “Jerry?”

  “Alex?”

  Alex peered around the corner only to see his brother slouched in the chair behind the desk as miserable as ever. “Got a minute?”

  Jerry nodded, surprised that his brother wanted anything to do with him. After what had passed between them...best not to think of that now. “What can I do for you?”

  Nervous but trying not to wiggle, Alex moved to the single chair before the desk. “Nothing. But ummm...” Alex shrugged. “Something tells me you’re having a hard time.”

  Jerry reached to the glass on the desk and gulped the amber liquid down his throat, a certain indication to Alex that he was correct. “Office gossip made it to your floor already?” Jerry said snidely.

  “No...Jerry. I just have that feeling again.”

  Bitterly, Jerry looked away and then rose. He went to the window and stared out at the lifting smog. “I, uhh...I think it might be time to obtain a divorce...finally,” he admitted.

  Alex hesitated. He wanted only to keep Jerry talking without feeling put upon. “Have you met someone?” Alex asked.

  Jerry shrugged. To fantasize that he and Morgan could be together was one thing. To entertain any real hope was another. Quickly, he turned. “And I talked to Cherry today.”

  “Really?” Alex said of his seductive niece. “She called you?”

  “I called her,” Jerry said with a half-smile. “We had a nice long talk. I don’t know how long it’s actually been since I’ve spoken to my daughter about anything other than business.”

  “And obviously the resort is thriving. I saw the quarterly report,” Alex commented. “And it’s no wonder. She’s got a lot of you in her.”

  A bit of a grimace knurled Jerry’s face for a moment. Yet it was compliment. The kind of compliment he hadn’t heard for decades and didn’t know what to do with any longer. Unable to actually look upon his brother, he asked, “What about you?”

  It saddened Alex immediately. Yet he offered, “Still me, Jerry. Still just the fag decorator for Abernathy Acquistions. I went to Europe a couple of weeks ago and brought back some interesting things.”

  “I saw the vase in the lobby,” Jerry offered.

  “Did you?” Alex said happily. “And it’s the real thing. A third century Grecian urn. Very rare. Of course, the dealer tried to tell me that the filth in it was nothing less than Aristophanes. I told him to keep the dirt. I just wanted the vase.”

  Easily, Jerry laughed. “It’s very nice. Your division is doing very well, too.”

  “Thank you,” Alex offered with all humility. Alex knew it was a division Jerry created a lifetime ago so that he would have a job. And he’d done his damnedest to make certain Jerry never lost on it, although no one was going to become wealthy on it. Antiquities are a gamble at best.

  “I’ve been thinking about my office,” Jerry admitted with his usual guardedness.

  “I’d love to do your office,” Alex said warmly. “And your waiting room. Move all those portraits of past CEOs to the basement.”

  “Maybe...maybe so,” Jerry admitted. Feeling the cold deep stare of his father every time he walked past that portrait only added to his misery. It was as if his father’s wrath was embedded in the somber oils used to paint it.

  “It’s time,” Alex said under his breath.

  But Jerry only shook a little. He nodded, but it wasn’t exactly assent. Quickly, he swiveled away from it.

  “So I’ll call you next week with a color board for your approval?”

  “Sure.”

  Alex didn’t want to leave, but Jerry wasn’t feeling talkative. But why should he talk to his brother, a man he hadn’t spoken to for years? Yet there was the slightest hope in it, an offer to a
llow Alex to decorate his office. Alex forged ahead. “Come to dinner with me?” he asked.

  Jerry winced. “You know I’ve pretty much moved into the penthouse. I’ll just stay here tonight. I need to get some sleep.” And then something uncontrollable burst out of him. “Cheryl’s gonna fuck me, Alex,” he admitted. “She’s gonna fuck the entire company. She, uhh...”

  “Has noticed a very profound change in you, as do I,” Alex noted. “I’m certain she’s feeling very uneasy, perhaps realizing she’s looking at her last few days of being the Keeper of the Keys of Hell.”

  “God, it has been hell, too,” Jerry gasped. A thin stream of tears moistened his eyelids. Quickly, he laid his hand over his eyes to rid himself of them.

  Alex rose to come to Jerry’s aid. But Jerry turned away. “I just really need some rest,” he whispered.

  “Alright...alright, you do that,” Alex said softly. “I’ll call you as soon as I have something ready for your office. And Jerry,” there was passion in his voice, “don’t let your decision ride on the company. Do what’s good for you for a change.”

  “Have a good evening,” Jerry said to rid himself of his brother.

  “You, too, Jerry.” Alex turned to move toward the door and closed it respectfully. For a moment, he stood beyond his brother’s office, shivering. Something’s going on. Someone has touched him, stroked the soul inside of him and reanimated it. Instinctively he knew it was Morgan. The woman his nephew wanted for his wife and it made him ill.

  * * * *

  Jerry lingered at his desk. A few more drinks and he would need a bed when all he really wanted was Morgan. But Morgan hadn’t called. Morgan hadn’t come today. He could send flowers like her other clients did. He could pick up the phone himself. Or he could wait...for a fantasy to materialize.

  Rather he leafed through his catalogue and picked up the phone. It was answered by a soft voice, an androgynous voice, neither male nor female.