Chapter 39

39

John lives in a rustic two-bedroom home on the outskirts of town. A creek runs down from the mountains and through the middle of his property, into a small pond that’s grown mossy from stagnation. John has enough land surrounding him to keep his two horses happy.

“It’s been years since I’ve ridden these horses, but I just can’t bear to part with them. The tan and white one over there…that was Mary’s favorite.”

John’s wife was a ballsy redhead from Quincy Massachusetts, a small town outside of Boston. They met fifteen years ago after John suffered a substantial head injury on a job site that left him partially deaf in his left ear. Mary was the surgeon in charge of his operation. He owed her his life and asked to repay her with an evening out on the town. She accepted, and the rest was marital history, until seven years ago.

He kisses her cheek, which smells like the moisturizer she puts on every night. A mixture of coconut and kiwi, it is a smell he’s learned to yearn for.

Her nightgown is a silky sky blue slip that covers her down to the mid-thigh. Her toes are painted red, an apple red, which he watched her pain two nights ago. That was Saturday. She was his Picasso that night, her quietly painting her toenails as they both lay in bed with the lights mostly dimmed.

Her hair is cascading down onto her shoulders, smooth and arousing to the touch. The contrast of red onto her blue slip reminds him of the sun before it sets itself down into the ocean.

He runs his fingers through that hair, his hands pressing against the sides of her neck, then closely, seductively, he grabs hold of her hips and pulls her so near that their hearts begin beating in rhythm together. They breathe the same air, they can both taste her smell, and the room is so quiet he can hear her eyes blink.

His lips find hers, unaided by sight. He has closed his eyes to drink in her fragrance. Suddenly she grabs hold of his white cotton shirt and pulls him into bed with her.

They kiss like high school sweethearts who have yet to grow tired of the ritual itself. They press their mouths together tightly, their tongues diving deep, as if Mary’s soul could be discovered like the Great Barrier Reef.

The sky blue slip is simply window dressing and it finds its way to the floor in a matter of seconds. Naked, the couple rolls around in bed, giggling quietly to one another.

John works his mouth and tongue down her neck, over her breasts and onto her nipples, lingering just long enough to send chills up Mary’s spine. Traveling further down her body he pauses between her legs to release a warm breath of anticipation inside of her. She arches her back and her moan echoes into the silence.

Farther still, down to her feet, he begins to massage those apple-coated toes, the contours of her ankles and the perfection of her thighs until his penis is throbbing with excitement. He can wait no more and he passionately plunges into her and lets out a moan of his own. Slipping inside of her, they continue on this way, calmly and knowingly. She feels safe under his weight, nestled between his arms.

Their eyes meet and he climaxes, his arms quivering under his weight. With a gasp of air he collapses beside her and they falls asleep with him still inside of her.

6:00 a.m. the alarm rings and John wakes up. Mary doesn’t move as he unwraps himself from her legs. She looks so peaceful, yet she has to get up; she has to be in surgery at 9:00.

“Mary, wake up, girl.” He whispers into her ear, but she doesn’t move.
He rubs her shoulders and whispers again, but her eyes have yet to flutter.

“Baby?”

He begins to shake harder.

“Mary. Wake up.”

Still no response.

“Honey, this isn’t funny. You’re going to be late.”

He begins to panic, but knows enough to place his fingers on her wrist and his ear by her mouth.

No breath. No pulse.

He frantically calls 911.

Fifteen minutes later the ambulance arrives, but Mary is no longer inside of her skin. Suffering from a massive aneurysm, she passed away sometime during the night while John held her in his arms.

As the paramedics take Mary’s body away, the reality of the situation levels John. He falls to his knees and weeps openly for the loss of his dearest friend.