In All the Wrong Places
By Arden Forrest
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2018 Arden Forrest
ISBN 9781634866347
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
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This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
In memory of Peter.
* * * *
In All the Wrong Places
By Arden Forrest
Chapter 1: Beginnings
Chapter 2: Roberta
Chapter 3: Date Night
Chapter 4: Polyamory
Chapter 5: Lisa
Chapter 6: Disappointment
Chapter 7: Valerie
Chapter 8: Plans
Chapter 9: Barriers
Chapter 10: Paradise
Chapter 11: Misunderstanding
Chapter 12: Bad Connection
Chapter 13: Odd Wedding
Chapter 14: Meltdown
Chapter 15: Desperation
Chapter 16: The New Year
Chapter 17: Party Time
Chapter 18: Out of Control
Chapter 19: Consequences
Chapter 20: Valentine
Chapter 21: What to Believe?
Chapter 22: More Changes
Chapter 23: Too Close for Comfort
Chapter 24: Trouble in Paradise
Chapter 25: Anger and Doubt
Chapter 26: More Drama
Chapter 27: The Price of Freedom
Chapter 28: The Last Straw
Epilogue
Chapter 1: Beginnings
On a bright January morning in the first year of the twenty-first century, Samantha Thomas came out the side door of the Presbyterian church, glad to be out in the fresh air and sunshine of the Florida morning.
Jesus Christ, Sam thought, what’s up with the music in church? Are they actually trying to put us to sleep? At forty-four, Sam wasn’t sure why she still came to church, except it seemed like something a parent should do with her kids. Her two children, Emily and Dax, burst out of the side door—twelve-year-old Dax a head taller than his older sister. Dax looked like his father, tall and slim, but with Sam’s silky light brown hair. Both kids had deep brown eyes, their dad’s olive skin, and mouths full of shiny metal braces.
Emily, an eighth-grader struggling to keep her cool and not strangle her pest of a brother, twisted her long hair up into a knot with a scrunchy she had on her wrist, complaining loudly, “Let’s go, Mom. I need to check my email. Moron here tied up the computer all morning!”
Sam, listening with half an ear, spotted Barry Potocki across the courtyard. Barry of the long hair and peace sign pendant—Barry whose daughter was friends with Emily, and whose ex-wife used to be friends with Sam. She had seen him at the hospital where she worked as a marketing specialist; Barry worked in Computer Services. He seemed like a decent guy, and certainly non-threatening.
Sam was in a weird place as far as men were concerned—basically sure she was a lesbian, although it was a struggle to admit this even to herself. Sam certainly didn’t want to be attracted to women; she had a pretty clear idea of the drama that would result from anyone in her family finding out. And Sam still held on to a faint glimmer of hope it was at least possible to be happy with “the right guy.” Being openly gay was out of the question among the upper middle class in her small southern town, and the possibility of acquiring a pleasant companion was reason enough to chat with Barry.
Barry was talking to one of what Sam called the “forty-ish preppie moms”—pleasant enough, but not really on Sam’s wavelength. She watched him from across the courtyard for a moment; thinking how he wasn’t really handsome in a conventional way, but there was a combination of kindness and strength in his face that appealed to her. His curly white hair was barely caught in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Sam walked over to join him.
“Hi, Barry…heard from Chelsea lately?” Chelsea, Emily’s age, was in a treatment facility in another state, struggling with an eating disorder.
Barry self-consciously tucked an escaped strand of hair behind his ear.
“Sam. What a pleasant surprise. I thought I saw you in the service. Emily did an excellent job with the responsive reading.” He paused. “Chelsea’s doing okay, but she misses home, and her friends, and her dance classes. She’s had a rough time.”
Sam realized Barry seemed genuinely pleased she had come over to talk. He shifted the angle of his body in her direction, giving Sam the slightest hint he might be flirting with her.
“Emily mentioned she heard from some of her friends at school Chels was improving…she’s in Texas, right?”
Barry touched her lightly on the arm; that, too, might have been a flirting gesture. But Sam was a bit out of practice with the dating game and didn’t trust her own judgment.
“Texas, right. It’s a top-notch facility. Chelsea actually is doing better; she might even get to come home this summer. I just got back from a visit out there; that’s why I trimmed my hair a bit: to fit in with their conception of what a concerned dad should look like.” A rueful grin, and a pause…
Sam smiled at him. “Well, it’ll grow again.”
An awkward silence ensued, broken by Dax hurling himself into space and landing between his mom and Barry. “Mom, Emily is gonna have a stroke if we don’t get out of here. Let’s go. I promised Chris I’d come over by one.”
Sam shot Barry a “you know kids” look. “Okay, well…good to see you. Keep me posted about Chelsea…she’s a good kid.”
“Thanks…see ya at work maybe…” He acted like he might say more, giving Sam an intense look for a brief moment before turning to go.
On the way home in the car, Dax blurted out, “Mom…do you like Mr. Potocki? I think he’s kinda cool. Too bad he cut off his ponytail.”
“Well, sure, I like him…I mean, you know…what do you mean?”
Emily chimed in, “He means, do you like him?”
“Okay, that’s enough, you guys. Can you even remember the last time I had a date? It’s not really in the picture, okay?”
Both kids quieted down. It had been a long time since their mom had gone out with any man…it really wasn’t in the picture…but it wasn’t something they usually thought about. There was a contemplative silence in the car all the way home.
* * * *
The next day at work, Sam sat at her desk tapping a pencil on the desktop and debating the relative merits of calling Barry. Maybe an email? He obviously was interested, even though the concept of “dating” seemed a little weird at this point in Sam’s life. But, what harm could it do? If nothing else, it
would be cool to have a friend who liked to talk about books and the arts and current events—something besides the boring details of life in Smalltown USA.
Okay, here goes. She wrote, Hi, Barry. Good to see you at church yesterday—so glad Chelsea is doing better. I thought maybe we could get together for lunch sometime—people who still wear peace signs in the 21st Century should stick together! Give me a call—555-3487. Sam
Send.
Before the day was out, she got a reply, casual, but definitely encouraging. Sam smiled in spite of herself. And they made a date.
So…the following Wednesday, Sam stood at the front entrance to Chili’s, waiting for Barry to meet her for lunch. Even though Sam told herself it was no big deal, she had to admit she was a bit nervous. Too bad it was the middle of the work day; a glass of wine would’ve helped her get through the first awkward moments.
But when Barry arrived, Sam realized it would be okay; this was a person she could talk to and be comfortable with. They were directed to a table; Sam and Barry both smiled as they glanced across at each other.
The lunch date turned out to be quite relaxed and friendly. Barry was pleasant, intelligent, and entertaining. Apparently, he was known around the office as the “king of bad puns,” and he shared this talent with Sam. She found herself thinking of Barry as a friend, someone she hoped to see again.
Before lunch was over, he brought up a second date: a classical guitar concert at church on Sunday afternoon. Sam accepted the invitation, thinking it was kind of cute he seemed to have a second date idea already planned. When the server brought the check, Sam reached for the cash she had in her pocket, but Barry beat her to it.
“Just this once,” he said. “Next time, we’ll split. Okay?”
What could she say? “Of course, thanks. It was fun.”
* * * *
That Sunday, Sam had trouble deciding what to wear to the concert. It was a church event, after all, but she did want to look stylish and attractive. She settled on black jeans and a low-cut knit top with long sleeves. Barry rang the doorbell just as she finished combing her short brown hair.
The guitar concert was dull and long; Sam would have had trouble staying awake except for the gentle pressure of Barry’s side against hers. She was acutely aware of his male presence in her space, and not quite sure how to handle it. But she did like being with him…and it would be nice to have someone to do things with, to share with….to save her from always being alone.
When Barry took Sam home, she nervously turned the key in the lock and turned to invite Barry in. Emily and Dax were at their dad’s that weekend; they were alone except for Sam’s cats, which scattered when they realized a stranger was in the house.
Sam was pleased to find Barry accepted her offer of a glass of wine; Sam was a drinker, not heavily, but daily, and would have found it awkward if Barry wasn’t. They laughed about the guitar player, about funny stuff the kids did, about Barry’s lame jokes. Sam felt relaxed and attractive for the first time in years.
As Barry stood at the front door saying good-bye, Sam had an overwhelming and unexpected impulse to kiss him. What harm would it do? She touched his shoulder and leaned in gently…a nice kiss.
Before she knew what was happening, Sam was “involved.” It took only a month or so, five or six dates, before the two of them found themselves in Barry’s bed. It seemed so natural to Sam to relax with this person who was so attuned to her, and so giving. Of course, an old hippie like Barry would have a waterbed; Sam had to laugh at the shades of the seventies that washed over her as she sank into the wavy expanse. And she was a bit shocked at herself for enjoying it…sex with a man…she had thought it was permanently behind her. But Barry was a blast to hang out with, and very understanding…and very willing to do whatever she needed sexually.
A long time ago, Sam had realized all her fantasies focused on women, but it wasn’t something she could share with anyone she knew. Until Barry. It came up so naturally, one night when they were sitting on Sam’s couch, sharing a bowl of microwave popcorn and drinking vodka and orange juice.
“You know, people’ve wondered about us.”
“Really? How come?” Sam asked.
“Well, a lot of people think…you might be…a lesbian.” He phrased it as a statement, but Sam could hear the question in his voice.
“Hmm. Well, sort of, yes.” Sam looked away and stayed very still, waiting for his next move.
“I don’t care, you know. I like you, Sam. I like spending time with you. And I trust you will be honest with me.”
Tears came to Sam’s eyes at this…this genuine acceptance from this truly decent person. She leaned over and kissed him, in total trust and relaxation.
Not long after, they were together in the semi-darkness of Sam’s bedroom.
“What do you want,” he whispered. “Anything…just tell me.”
“I need to think of…I don’t know…”
“What’s her name?” Sam sank into the comfort of being understood.
“Jennifer…is that okay?”
“Anything’s okay…I just like being with you.”
In the darkness of the night, Sam let down a tiny bit of the wall she had built in the past several years. Barry was not exactly her mom’s picture of the ideal man, but he was kind and genuine, and he was a man. Just maybe, this would work.”
Chapter 2: Roberta
All was quiet in the small house on the corner, home to Sam, Emily, Dax, three cats, and an iguana. Although the two kids were sometimes at their dad’s for a night or a weekend, they were both at home with Sam on this particular fall night, several months after Sam and Barry had started to think of themselves as “a couple.” Sam was waiting for fourteen-year-old Emily to fall asleep so she could call Barry in private. This nightly phone call was always a high point of Sam’s day, but tonight, it was especially urgent because she needed his grounding influence and his humor.
Sam appeared in her daughter’s doorway. “Okay, Missy…lights out in fifteen.”
“But, Mom, I need to finish this chapter of Dracula. I’m just getting to the gross part!
“Twenty minutes…and that’s it. Then ‘eyes closed’.” Sam turned to walk away.
“Mom, wait—come here for a minute.”
“What’s up, Em?” Sam came in and sat in her daughter’s desk chair. “Everything okay?”
Emily sat up in bed, her wavy long hair making a frame of her innocent face. “You really like Barry, don’t you? I mean, he’s like—your boyfriend, right?”
Sam knew she would have this conversation at some point. She gathered her thoughts to reply. “Well, yeah. I guess so. You like him, don’t you?”
Emily pushed her unruly hair away from her face. “Yeah, he’s cool. And you look relaxed and happy when he’s around. Like you might be okay, you know?”
Sam smiled at her daughter’s teenaged summation of the relationship. “I think you’ve got it, sweetie. He does make me feel okay about things. I trust him—and I count on him.”
“I’m glad, Mom. You deserve for somebody to appreciate you. Besides me and Dax.”
Sam smiled again and kissed her daughter on the forehead. Emily sank back into the covers with eyes already half closed. “You can go ahead and turn out my room light, Mom.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Emmy the Pooh.” Sam hadn’t used this baby name for her daughter for quite a while, but it just slipped out. It was heart-warming to realize your kids wanted you to be happy.
After saying goodnight to Emily, Sam fussed around the kitchen, putting away the remains of dinner and wiping down the counter. Tonight, she was anxious to talk to Barry about her infatuation with this woman at the gym—this unknown woman whose smile caught Sam’s attention and made her weak in the knees. Of course, most men wouldn’t want to discuss their girlfriend’s attraction to someone else. But then, Barry wasn’t “men”—he was Barry, and he was her best friend as well as her “boyfriend.” Sam felt as if she might spontaneou
sly combust if she had to keep this to herself another minute!
Finally, Sam saw Emily’s reading light go out, and shortly thereafter heard her snoring gently. Sam poured herself a glass of wine and settled in the corner of the living room loveseat with her link to Barry: the phone.
Thankfully, Barry answered on the second ring. “Hey, Ms. Samantha! How was your day? Did you get to the gym like you planned?”
Sam had one last moment of hesitation about telling Barry what was going on in her head. She took a deep breath. “I did. Barry, she was there again. The pretty woman with the cool haircut and tattoos.” She paused, trying to think of what to say next.
“Well, did you talk to her or anything? There’s no harm done in simply meeting her, you know. Just to see how it feels to flirt a little with a woman.” She could hear the teasing grin in his voice. “You know you want to.”
“Yeah…you think so? What if someone from work is at the gym? And anyway, what would I say?”
“How about, ‘Hi, I’m Sam’?”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious!” Sam laughed nervously. “You know what I mean. What do I…do?
“Sam, take it light. Go one step at a time. Chat with her and see what she’s all about. What’s this mystery woman’s name, anyway?”
“Roberta. I overheard a conversation she had with another woman in the dressing room. Roberta…don’t know the last name…Okay, we’ll see if she’s there again tomorrow.”
And she was. She was coming out of the steam room just as Sam was about to go in. Sam introduced herself and made some comment about the crowded conditions in the dressing room, trying not to appear foolish and nervous. Roberta smiled the crooked smile Sam found irresistible and moved on to the showers.
The next day when Sam came into the gym, Roberta was standing at the dressing room mirror wearing a towel around her waist and nothing else. Sam had a flash of memory of all the times in her dance career when she tried not to look at the breasts of her fellow dancers in the dressing room. She made a huge effort to look at Roberta’s face while smiling a silent greeting. Again, Sam was rewarded with a friendly smile from the other woman—a smile that took her breath away.
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