A Sweet and Sassy Match

by Stevie MacFarlane

  They talked casually of marriage, but no ring appeared and she wondered sadly if he was falling out of love with her. She talked to Lori about it and then to Brandy, but neither woman had any advice to offer. It was finally Mike who gave her a piece of his mind and for that Johanna would be forever grateful.

  Sam was out of town and missing an important document he’d left at her house. He called and asked her to run it over to his office so Mike could fax it to him. Locating it quickly, she arrived to find everyone had gone for the day, except Mike who was waiting for her.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly,” Mike said, taking the paper from her. “It’s not like Sam to forget something so important.”

  “Mike” Jo asked hesitantly. “Do you have a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Let me fax this to Sam first, honey and then I’ll give you all the time you need. Why don’t you go have a seat in my office?”

  “Thanks,” Jo smiled, going down the hall and sitting down in the chair in front of Mike’s desk. It was only a few minutes before he joined her, closing the door.

  “What can I help you with Johanna?” he asked kindly as he leaned back in his chair

  “It’s about Sam,” she said and before she knew it she was telling him everything. Starting with her very first spanking and ending with her current worries. About halfway through she noticed that Mike was drumming his fingers on his desk and his face had taken on a mild scowl. By the time she was done, his face was like a thundercloud and his fingers were beating a rapid tattoo. Johanna could see that he was angry, but she truly had no idea what he was going to tell her. She had her hands under her thighs to keep from rubbing them and her eyes pleaded with him for help.

  “So, that explains a lot,” Mike informed her. “I wondered what happened to my best friend, but of course, being the man Sam is, or was, he never said a word.”

  “A word about what, Mike?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”

  “My God woman, do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he roared, standing and slapping his hand on his desk. “You’ve emasculated him! You may as well have his balls sitting in a bowl on your mantle!”

  “Mike,” Johanna pleaded, shocked to the core. “How can you even say that? I love Sam with all my heart,” she sobbed.

  “Oh really?” he asked sarcastically. “Tell me which Sam you love so much. Sam the strong, caring, protective man he was when you first met or the milk toast version you have created?”

  “Sam is Sam,” she insisted, jumping up.

  “No he was Sam until you sucked the life right out of him. He’s a shadow of his former self and you damn well know it or you wouldn’t be here talking to me. He’s not happy Johanna, yet he bends over backward trying to please you. You’ve been acting like a selfish little girl and I have half a mind to spank you myself!”

  “Mike”, she gasped in horror.

  “Oh, don’t worry; at this point I’m not sure you’re worth disciplining.”

  Johanna found his words more painful than his discipline could ever be, a disturbing thought.

  “I can think of a thousand women who would give their eye teeth to have someone like Sam in their lives, the real Sam,” he told her coldly. “Most women wish their men would be more than they are, you however want him to be less than his is. I just don’t understand it. Has he ever really hurt you? Spanked you without provocation?”

  ‘No,” Jo whispered, “and he never would.”

  “Then what is your problem? Don’t you trust him?”

  “I do trust him, more than anyone else in the world. He would never hurt me,” she said, finally believing it.

  “Then why are you hurting him? Why are you trying to change him when he is one of the greatest men I’ve ever known?” Mike asked softly.

  “I didn’t know I was,” she said, “hurting him, I mean. I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t figure it out. I knew he was different, quieter, and sadder somehow, but I didn’t understand why. He thinks I can’t love the man he is and he knows I won’t survive without him, so he’s trapped. He can’t leave me and he can’t be happy with me like he is,” she said in wonder as tears streaked down her cheeks. Everything was suddenly very clear to her. “You’re right, I did try and create my own version of Sam and I’ve made him miserable. Oh Mike, what am I doing to do?”

  “I can’t help you with that one, Johanna, but I’m glad that you finally realized what’s happening before it’s too late. As I see it, you have two choices: you can set him free and let him find a woman who will love all the parts that make up Sam, including the warts, or you can make up your mind that you will let him be the man he was meant to be. He has to be comfortable in his own skin, Johanna, and for a man like that to let his woman walk all over him, it’s a difficult pill to swallow. I know I wouldn’t put up with it.

  Smiling for the first time since their conversation began, Mike continued.

  “I think most of the men in this organization are fifties kind of guys trapped in the wrong decade.”

  “He does like those old shows,” she said thoughtfully. “When will he be back?”

  “Friday, late afternoon,” Mike answered, not sure he liked the gleam in her eyes. ‘But I’m warning you, Johanna…”

  “Don’t worry,” she told him, stretching up to kiss his cheek. “I have a plan.”

  “That’s why I’m worried,” he said dryly as she sailed out the door.

  Johanna figured she only had two days, but it would have to be enough. Taking the credit card Sam left for emergencies made her feel a little guilty but she squashed it down. She shopped on her lunch hour and hit a couple more stores on her way home, spending such an outrageous amount of money at the last one that she almost hyperventilated. It’s a good thing he didn’t have a low limit on his card or she would have been one very embarrassed woman.

  Taking her packages home, she grabbed a juice and a peanut butter cracker and headed to her mother’s home.

  “Mom, can I go through Grandma’s old trunk?” she asked not long after she arrived.

  “Of course you may, dear,” her mother replied. “Are you looking for anything in particular? Maybe I can help?”

  “No,” Jo hedged. “I just thought I might take a few things home and spruce up the house. I’ve taken quite an interest in the vintage theme lately.”

  “Take anything you like, Dear. It’s all going to be yours anyway, and I have no use for those things.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Jo said smiling and heading to the basement storage area. She came upstairs with two big bags of items that she sat by the door and then made them both a cup of tea.

  “Did you find anything useful?” he mother asked.

  “I found lots of great treasures,” Jo told her. “I can’t wait to get home and see how they look.”

  “Well you go ahead, dear. My favorite show is about to come on anyway and I know you must be tired after working all day. Give my love to Sam, won’t you?”

  “I will, Mom,” Jo replied, rinsing out the teacups and helping her mother to her rocking chair. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jo was up early on Friday morning. She’d already taken the day off but she had tons to do today. Who knew being a housewife would be so consuming, she thought as she headed to the store. She picked up a beef roast, potatoes, carrots, onions and some brown-and-serve rolls. In the baking aisle, she got a pre-made piecrust and some pie filling, thinking who cares if she cheated a little. Picking up fresh butter and real whipping cream, Jo noticed a package with an array of cheeses and grabbed that along with a box of fancy crackers. At the last minute it occurred to her that olives and pickles would look pretty on the table, and she headed back for those. Sam’s credit card should be pleading for mercy, she thought, as she handed it to the cashier.

  Back at home, Jo cleaned the house and got out her vintage treasures, placing each item just so after
washing it. The things she couldn’t wash she tossed in the dryer to air, hoping they didn’t smell like mothballs when they came out. Sitting down at her computer, Jo wrote a letter, printing it out and sealing it in a pretty floral envelope. She scrawled Sam’s name across it as delicately as she could.

  At noon, she browned the beef, placed it in her roaster and put it in the oven on low heat. She peeled the vegetables and set them in a bowl of cold water in the fridge. The pie was a snap with the microwave, and it looked real pretty even without the whipped cream.

  Jo was halfway through her sandwich when the florist delivered the arrangement she’d ordered, again on Sam’s card. Looking at the receipt, she grinned, thinking if this was the fifties she would have earned herself quite a stern talking to, at the very least.

  Most of the afternoon was spent playing beauty parlor. Never in her life had she taken such pains with her appearance, but then there had never been a night as important as this one. After bathing and shaving, she spent an inordinate amount of time rubbing her body with perfumed lotion. She left her hair down to dry after combing it and headed to the kitchen.

  Removing the roast, Jo added the vegetables and returned it to the oven. She was starting to feel a little overwhelmed as she glanced at the clock. It was still two hours until Sam would be home, but he could always get in early. She hurriedly set the table with a linen table cloth and her grandmother’s china and crystal, folding the napkins into little swans she’d learned to make as a child. Placing the floral arrangements in the middle of the table, Jo dug out her candles and put one tall taper on each side of the arrangement. She found a little box of matches she had for emergencies and tucked them next to the flowers so she wouldn’t misplace them. By now she was perspiring so she kicked up the air conditioning, glad she hadn’t gotten dressed earlier.

  She headed back to the kitchen where it didn’t take long to whip the heavy cream, adding sugar as she went. When it was light and sweet, she covered the bowl and stuck it back in the fridge. The pickles and olives were arranged in little crystal dishes and the rolls placed on a baking sheet when the knock sounded on the door. Damn. He was early.

  “Who is it?” she called sweetly.

  “It’s Sam, let me in.”

  “I can’t yet, Sam.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?” he asked tiredly. After the trip he’d had, this was the last thing he needed.

  “I just can’t, that’s all,” she replied, fanning herself.

  “Jo what’s going on in there?” he demanded before he caught himself and softened his tone. “Come on honey,” he cajoled. “I’m tired and it’s hot out here.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. Please just come back in twenty minutes. It’s very important.”

  “Alright,” he replied, walking away. The defeat in his voice almost made her cry, and she was ashamed of what she’d done to this wonderful man. The old Sam wouldn’t have tolerated this for an instant.

  “You are the world’s oldest spoiled brat,” she said to herself as she stomped to her room to get dressed. Taking off her robe, Jo picked up her new lingerie, slipping the garter belt around her waist. Gently she rolled up the stockings and fastened them, amazed at how fragile they were. Nothing at all like tugging on a pair of stretchy pantyhose, it was not an easy process.

  Finally satisfied, she slipped two petticoats over her head and fastened the tabs.

  Her dress was true vintage and she’d loved it on sight. Red with white polka dots it had a fitted waist with a wide white belt, little cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. It fit her perfectly, flaring over her petticoats and ending just below her knee. White heels completed the outfit and she added a single string of pearls and her pearl earrings. Studying her reflection she decided at the last moment to pull her long hair up into a high ponytail, thinking it was more appropriate for the style. Taking a deep breath, her hands hovering over her tummy where butterflies danced, she left the room.

  Looking everything over, from the lace doilies on the arms of the furniture, to the antique bar set on the sideboard, all the little touches seemed perfect. Picking up her cell she called Sam.

  It took a minute for him to answer and he sounded so tired.

  “Where are you?” she asked breathlessly.

  “In the driveway., Guess I fell asleep,” he replied.

  “You can come in now.”

  “Okay.” He hoped she hadn’t planned some silly party or anything like that. What he had to tell her tonight was not something he was looking forward to, but it had to be said. He just couldn’t go on another day like they had been, and he already had feelers out for an apartment in Atlanta. He knew in his very soul that it would kill him to leave her, but it was either that or lose himself. What a shame for this whole damn thing to turn sour when it had started off so promising. Loving her wasn’t enough; although he tried to make it so, it just wasn’t. Reaching for his suitcase he stopped himself and closed the door. He would not be staying the night, he realized sadly, as he walked toward the house.

  Johanna opened the door and pulled him right into her arms.

  Welcome home, Darling,” she purred against his chest.

  “Wow, something smells good,” he said, sniffing the air, his interest piqued.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, taking his hand and leading home towards the living room.

  “Starving,” he answered. His eyes blinked rapidly, as he looked around the room.

  “You sit right here and put your feet up sweetheart and I’ll fix you a drink,” she cooed, pushing him gently into the easy chair and watching in approval as he put his feet on the ottoman. Walking over to the little bar she’d set up she could feel his eyes on her, burning into her back and she smiled. Taking some ice cubes out of the bucket, she put them in a heavy glass and poured his favorite whiskey over them. As she turned back to him she felt her dress swirl around her legs, and she could actually hear the sound of silk on silk as she walked.

  Sam looked stunned, like he was caught in a time warp, but the fire in his eyes when they met hers was something she hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

  Taking the glass from her hand, he took a gulp.

  “What’s going on here, Johanna?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing dear,” she replied, patting his shoulder. “You just relax while I get dinner on the table. I’m sure you’ve had a long day,” she continued, handing him the newspaper.

  Sam took the paper automatically and watched her walk away, her heels clicking on the floor as her little hips set the pretty red dress swaying. I don’t know what this crazy dream is, he thought, tossing back the rest of his whiskey, but I hope I never wake up.

  Johanna made several trips back and forth to the table, and Sam couldn’t take his eyes off her. In the kitchen, she must have put on the little white apron with a red heart on the pocket, tying the big bow in back. If those are real stockings, he thought, checking out her lovely legs, I’m not getting out of this alive. When she bent over to light the candles, he thought he caught a glimpse of bare skin and bounded out of the chair.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, giving himself a mental head slap for forgetting his manners.

  “No,” she replied, stopping to kiss his cheek on her way back to the kitchen. “I think I have everything under control. Why don’t you go wash up for dinner?”

  “Alright, if you don’t need any help,” he said, walking to the bathroom in a daze.

  He washed his hands and gave himself a good talking to in the mirror. This changes nothing, he thought. One night does not a marriage make!

  Are you kidding me? his dick screamed Have you looked at her? She’s a walking wet dream!

  But she doesn’t love me, at least not the real me, he insisted.

  “Sam,” she called, “dinner’s on the table, Darling.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he answered. Splashing water on his face, he dried and
hung up the little embroidered towel. She’d even changed things in here, he realized, looking at the tiny soaps shaped like hearts in a little bowl on the counter. I don’t know where this is going, he thought, looking in the mirror, but it sure was interesting.

  Johanna was standing by her chair when he returned to the dining room and so Sam pulled it out, seating her.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, taking his seat and placing his napkin in his lap.

  Johanna had placed the large platter on Sam’s right so she handed him her plate, and he served her a portion of the meal.

  “I had no idea you could cook like this,” he said, cutting a piece of meat and placing it in his mouth. “This is delicious.”

  “Thank you, Darling. I bought a cookbook and followed the directions. It was really quite easy,” she lied, smiling.

  “You look beautiful,” Sam told her, pausing while buttering his roll. “Is that a new dress?” he asked, deciding to play along.

  “Yes, it is,” she answered. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “How much was it sweetheart?” he inquired smoothly. Now that he had a shot of whiskey and some delicious food under his belt, things didn’t seem so dour and he was actually becoming quite amused.

  “Oh,” she said, bringing her hand up to her mouth in dismay, “I forgot the wine. The cookbook says that you should always serve a good rich wine with beef. I’ll be right back, Darling,” she said sweetly as she hurried into the kitchen.

  Sam just couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she walked from the room, and he adjusted his napkin to hide his reaction. When she returned with the wine, she leaned over him to pour his, her perfumed breasts only inches from his face. She sat back down, smiling at him in a wicked way as she picked up her fork.

  “How much did you say the dress was, Johanna?”

  “Well, I wanted to talk to you about that, Sam,” she answered, chewing on her fingernail, partly acting and partly nervous about what she was going to say.