Coming to Terms (A Moment in Time)
Page 3
I was beginning to have doubts about letting her go.
Monday night she called me to say they would be coming back tomorrow. I was almost frantic, but I remained calm. “Okay, hon, I’ll be anxious to see you tomorrow.” I said.
It was about six in the evening when she came through the door, with a breezy, “Hi honey, I’m back.”
The argument started before she could change or unpack. I questioned her with anger in my voice. She took offense. We exchanged some harsh words. I accused her of being a hussy among other things. She flew back at me for being judgmental and accusatory, and spoiling the good time about which she was preparing to tell me.
Finally, she picked up her bags and said.
“I’m not going to stay here and listen to this garbage. You can spend another night alone, you ass.” She yelled at me. “I’m going to go where I’m appreciated. And, by the way, since you are thinking it any way, yes I gave up some ass this weekend. In fact, I gave him everything he wanted. You’re a jealous insecure pig! Good bye!”
She left me standing there wondering how the hell I had managed to screw that up. I was glad to see her, and would have given anything to bring her back. I had a good idea where she had gone. However, I was not about to start calling him to reach her. She would have to come back on her own.
She did, finally, after spending two more nights with Manfred. She called me Thursday night.
“Baby” She said when I answered the phone. Just the sound of her voice was such a huge relief I almost sobbed. I held my emotion to hear what she had to say. “I want to come home.”
“I’ll be here.” I said. “We need to talk.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Let’s talk about it when I get there.” She said.
In less than a half hour she was in my arms. We kissed and hugged, and told each other how much we missed each other. I held her close and reveled in the familiar scent of her perfume.
I helped her unpack while she told me about her trip to Montreal. Manfred had gotten a call to come for a meeting on Friday. He had told Raquel they had to leave in an hour. She had tried to phone me but the line was busy. They drove to the hotel in Montreal in about four hours. She said it was exciting and fun. Manfred had his meeting on Friday while she explored the city on her own. She had gotten lost and asked a city policeman to help. He had taken her to the station where they called Manfred. He came to get her.
They had dinner in a quaint little bistro in the old part of town.
“He was so nice.” She said. He told her that the meeting went well, but that they asked him to meet with some other executives on Monday. They had separate but adjoining rooms at the hotel.
“Honey” She said looking at me with her beautiful expressive eyes. “I have to tell you, I can’t lie, I had sex with him.”
“Did you enjoy it?” I asked.
“Yes, baby, I did. He’s quite a good lover.” She said. “But he’s nothing compared to you.” Her assessment of Manfred had changed considerably since the weekend. She told me he was arrogant, bossy and controlling. All traits she detested in a man.
I took her in my arms, and kissed her.
“You realize, of course, you will have to be punished.” I said.
“I’m ready, darling. You can punish me.” She whispered. I undressed her and stretched her on the bed.
“Make me your woman, baby.” She whispered as I lowered my body onto hers. I drove my stake into her furrow with long hard deliberate strokes, as she whispered in my ear.
“He’s not as good as you, darling.” Her words inflamed my passion. “He’s not as good a lover as you.”
I gave her the punishment she so richly deserved, heartlessly paying no heed to her moans and breathless panting groans. In the end when we rested side by side on the bed she turned on her side and said to me.
“I’ll never leave you sweetheart. No matter how many men try to entice me away from you. Don’t worry. I’ll always come back to you.”
I held her and kissed her, but I also noted that she had said, ‘come back to you’. That was as close as we ever came to splitting up. Although she threatened on many occasions when she was angry with me that she was leaving, it never came close to that.
Her anger was probably the most difficult part of her character with which she and I had to cope. As deep and hot as her passion ran in bed, it was just as scorching and violent in her rage. I often wondered how someone, so angelic in face and delicate figure, could be so demonically hellish in her tantrums. A minor annoyance could blow up in seconds into a towering rage, and precipitate a physical attack. It was almost always unexpected. However, when she flew off the handle and began tearing strips off me, I had no comparable experience in my background with which to handle it.
At first, I would stand my ground and try to calm her down when I saw her anger rising, but eventually I came to realize the best, and most expedient course of action was hasty retreat. I learned to quickly take myself off the field of battle. Walking the streets at late hours would be my only salvation in many of our most ferocious arguments.
She was nearly always contrite and remorseful afterward and eager to please me with a superb dinner or a back massage. We would often make up in bed. However, when she was in her rage she was beyond control, and I would endeavor to stay out of her way. At times when she became angry with her daughter, the shouting and yelling between them would drive me out of the house. I would spend a few hours at the office and go home to find her asleep or watching TV. We would talk, and later she expressed gratitude to me for helping her to calm herself down. I learned from her family that I was not the only recipient of her intolerable rage. That she had from her childhood exhibited a tendency to anger that would explode beyond all reasonable bounds.
In later years, as we became more in tune with each other I helped her gradually work out her anger and she became much less prone to violence. Her tongue though was a weapon she wielded with consummate skill and surgical precision that was devastating.
One thing that caused me some concern was the reaction of many of my friends to our relationship. I discovered that some of the people I had considered friends and supporters could not be comfortable around Raquel. Whether she intimidated them, or they found it difficult to overcome their inborn racism I never really knew. Many of my friends drifted away after I married her. It might have been me. She filled my life so completely that I felt no need to maintain contact with the old gang. However, there were a few who continued to call and invite us to their homes.
I had a friend named Jack. He was a guy I had known for years, and had shared an apartment with for a while when I first came to the city. Jack was about six years older than I and he assumed the role of mentor. Whether he deserved it or not was an open question. Despite the fact that he often took an arrogant supercilious attitude, I liked Jack. He had a philosophy of life that was almost antithetical to mine. He didn’t care. I think in some ways he fascinated me. He always had some good looking beauty on his arm, and treated her abominably. He would often say, by way of advice, treat a lady like a whore and a whore like a lady and they’ll give you everything you want. Of course it didn’t always work, but some women found him irresistible.
Jack was a hustler and a businessman. He had worked in real estate, landscaping, various failed sales ventures and long distance hauling. Beginning with one truck he had built a small trucking business unit by unit into a fleet of gravel haulers. He was what is often called ‘a rough cob’. His face showed the ravages of heavy drink, some disastrous bar fights, and too much sun. He was stocky and muscular, with tattoos on both arms. His blond curly hair was mostly gone, replaced by short gray stubble around his ears and the back of his head. His voice was a sort of raspy gravely growl, and, although he still had the bright blue eyes and quick smile of his youth, he was a jaded shell of the good-looking energetic player I knew when we were sharing an apartment years before. His prowess at gathering beautiful women around him was almo
st legendary then, and a source of envy on my part.
When I introduced Raquel to Jack I could see that he was enthralled. It gave my ego a boost to see my friend flipping out over my wife. He became a frequent visitor to our home. Raquel immediately saw through him. “Your friend Jack is a male chauvinist jerk.” She said to me soon after they met.
“I know.” I said. “He’s a bit of a misogynist, but for some reason women find him fascinating.”
“Well, whatever, he’s an ass as far as I’m concerned.” Raquel said. “He’s your friend so I’m not going to offend him, but if I was just meeting him I’d put him in his place real quick.”
“I’ll see that he doesn’t come around too often.” I said.
“Oh no” She quickly replied. “He’s welcome, but don’t expect me to treat him with a lot of respect. Not until he shows more respect for me, and you.”
“You can deal with him, however, you see fit, baby.” I said. “It’s not all that important to me. If he gets his feelings hurt, so be it.”
Jack would often try to put me down in front of Raquel.
“You’re too much woman for him, Raquel.” He’d say. “You need a real man to keep you in line.”
“And, I suppose that would be you, Jack.” She would reply.
“I could handle you, all right.” Jack would say.
“You’d like to try, wouldn’t you?” Raquel said.
“Once you dump this chump, I’d whip you into shape in no time.” Jack crowed.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’ll be the day. She’d have you crying like a baby, Jack. You don’t know this woman. She’s tough. She’d crack your balls like a couple of walnuts in a vise.”
We would go on like that laughing at each other’s responses, and giving it back and forth. I always enjoyed the way Raquel put him down, and made him bristle, while I played the peacemaker and ringmaster. It was always lively when Jack came around. Raquel would give me great sex after we had an evening with Jack. I think that’s one of the reasons I put up with him.
One evening Jack invited us over to his place. It was supposed to be an evening with a few of his friends for drinks and conversation. When we got there we found that Jack was having a party for some of his drivers. He had arranged for a bunch of hookers to be there along with about six or seven of his truck operators and a few wives. He wanted Raquel and I to add some spice to the party.
She was the only black women and by far the best looking woman in the group. After we had mingled for a while I saw some things that made me suspicious. I managed to catch a moment with Jack in the kitchen.
“Jack, what kind of party is this?” I asked him. “These guys are groping every female, and tossing lewd jokes around.” He laughed.
“Hey, I just wanted you and Raquel to meet some of my guys. The women are friends of mine from The Brass Rail.” He said.
The Brass Rail was a notorious strip bar and hang out for hookers and street people. I was a little upset that he would include us with such an unsavory crowd. I took the glass of wine I had come to get, back out to Raquel. She was on the sofa between two heavy set, rough looking characters with dark stubble on their faces and lust in their eyes. I set the wine down. Raquel looked up at me and smiled her thanks.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Oh sure, baby.” She said. “This is John, and Emil. They are telling me about a cabin up north, where they go on fishing trips. They’d like to take me up there sometime.”
John and Emil grinned at me. I thought to myself, ‘I bet you would.’
“That sounds nice.” I said. I left her talking to John and Emil and carried my beer out on the balcony. Two guys and two women were engaged in separate clutches of passionate embrace. I wandered back inside.
The music had started and some people were dancing. I sat down in a big easy chair and slowly nursed my beer. A large bosomed bleach blonde women with purple blotches on her cheeks came over to talk with me.
“How are you, sweetie?” She asked.
“Doing just fine.” I said. “How about you?”
“Oh, I’m wonderful. Are you one of Jack’s drivers?” She asked.
“No” I said “Just a friend of his.”
“Oh, really? Are you here with somebody?” She asked.
“Yes” I said. “That’s my wife over there.” I indicated the small crowd of men around Raquel.
“Oh, she’s beautiful, and very popular, I see.” She said.
“Yeah, I try to avoid getting trampled in the stampede.” I said.
She broke into a raucous high pitched shriek of laughter.
“Oh, that’s funny” She chortled. “What does she do?”
I thought about giving a straight answer, but I decided to see if I could evoke the shriek again.
“She’s a truck driver.” I said. The women shrieked again.
“No, really?” She giggled with amusement. I nodded my head.
“That’s why we’re here.” I said. “She wants to get a job driving for Jack.”
“You’re kidding.” She said with surprise. “That’s a strange job for a woman. Has she done much driving? Trucks, I mean.”
“Oh sure.” I said. “She’s been driving big rigs and eighteen wheelers for a while. She’s got diesel in her veins.” Another shriek of laughter went up. Some heads turned around to look at us.
“You know that’s something I would love to do.” She said. “Drive one of those big monsters. Hit the road and go.”
“Yeah, she says, it’s fun, but she’s tired of being away from home all the time. She wants to get something that’s local.” I said. “Jack says he might hire her, if she can pass the test.”
“Oh, that’s good. What does she have to do to pass the test?”
“Well, I’m not sure.” I said. “I think she has to stay overnight, and do some exercises with the other drivers.”
The woman looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face. Then she began to smile and suddenly broke into another shriek of laughter.
“Oh, you’re kidding me.” She shouted. “Who told you that? Are you serious? No!”
“That’s what Jack told her.” I said. I had to smile. The look on her face was priceless.
“Exercises? What kind of exercises?” She cried. “Oh, honey, you’re not serious. Are you?”
I nodded.
“That’s priceless!” She laughed. “Are you really going to leave her here to do exercises with the other drivers?”
“She wants the job.” I said with resignation. “What can I do?”
“You’re kidding me.” She leaned in to me and whispered confidentially. “She’s not going to be doing any exercises, honey.”
“What do you mean?”I asked.
She leaned back and looked at me. Then she crowded up close to me.
“Honey, you should get her out of here.” She said in a low voice. “She’s not trying out for a job. She’s going to be having sex with those guys.”
“No!” I said.
“Yes!” she exclaimed.
“Well, that’s not what she said.” I replied.
“What did she tell you?” The woman asked in a conspiratorial tone.
“She said.” I replied in a low voice. ”That, she would be working all night with the other drivers to learn how to shift their gears.”
The woman broke into hysterical giggles of laughter.
“Honey, you’ve been pulling my leg. Haven’t you?” She giggled some more. I nodded.
“Listen, it’s been nice talking to you.” I said. “I have to find Jack and call this whole thing off.”
She could hardly stop laughing to say. “I’ve had a real good time. Thank you”
I found Raquel in the kitchen laughing and talking with several men and women.
“Oh, oh. My husband is here.” she said. “We have to break this up. I’ll have to get back with you guys later.” They all laughed.
We said goodnight to everyone and left.
“I saw you over there entertaining her.” She said with a laugh. “I figured if you wanted to go home with her, I had plenty of men to choose from.” We both laughed.
Being with Raquel was always fun, in any kind of crowd. She eventually found her niche in Toronto. We lived in Canada for fifteen years before we decided to move back to the U.S. I found work with a company that moved us from Toronto to a major U. S. city on the border and we have lived here since.