Bab 32: My Past
"If you two are done fooling around in there," Becky yells, "dinner's ready."
We both laugh, as we get out and dry off. Becky watches us unashamedly, as I use one of their towels. "I hope she didn't wear you out, Lyden, because I expect some attention tonight, also."
Dinner is a simple fair of green beans and hamburger in some kind of sauce. Despite its simplicity, it tastes rather good, especially considering the fare I've been having lately.
"Thanks for taking me in tonight," I tell the two women as I get up and start cleaning my plate in the kitchen sink. "I promise I'll get a motel room tomorrow, staying there until I can find another apartment to move into." I have no idea what I'm going to put into a new apartment though. I didn't have renter's insurance on my old one, which is part of the reason the police believed that I had nothing to do with burning it down. Maybe the apartment managers have some kind of insurance to compensate its tenants, but luckily I still have all that money from whoever overpaid my rent. I strongly suspect it'd been Angela that'd paid all my bills, but I have no way to prove it, and no idea where she would have gotten all that money.
"Don't be crazy," Lisa states, bringing me her plate, "you can stay here as long as you need."
I open my mouth to protest, but Becky cuts in first. "I know we don't know each other well, but there's no sense in spending money on a motel room, when we both have a perfectly comfortable bed to share." From the way her eyes sparkle, I have the feeling that they're not going to take no for an answer, and that there won't be a lot of sleeping going on in those beds. Whatever luck led me to these two women, I don't know whether to curse it, or thank it. A month ago, these two young ladies wouldn't have looked at me twice. Today, they can't seem to stop staring at me.
My theory is proven right after I finish cleaning the kitchen—yes, I cleaned it, because I'm a guest and they're letting me stay here. It's the least I can do. The women practically rip off my clothes, and it's not 'til many hours later that that the women go to sleep. For my part, I'm too full of life to even think about slumber.
* * *
Jennifer grins at me after Becky drops me off at my office building.
"Well, Mr. Snow. Have a good day off yesterday?" She gives me a wink, and even goes so far as to pinch my rear as she allows me past the security checkpoint. Somewhere she's picked up a smaller uniform, one that somehow fits her considerable assets while conforming to her hips as well. I'm not the only person that notices her body, and there is even a slight scuffle as two guys walk into each other, because they were staring at her.
"I tried calling you last night," I tell her, wondering why she hadn't answered.
She grimaces slightly, and I wonder what's wrong. She glances at everyone around us, before responding. "I'll talk to you later. See you at lunch?"
What's going on? I wonder, as I take the elevator up to my floor. It's not until I walk in, and can feel Sheila's cold glare that I remember what Jennifer had told her.
Sitting at my desk, I see I've already received an email from my boss.
Mr. Snow,
It has come to my attention that you have a girlfriend. I will not play party to such behavior. As of now, we are through, and I will tolerate no further such behavior from you.
There isn't even a signature at the end, and I glance up to my boss wanting to explain, but she's studiously not looking my way. Unfortunately, I can't seem to come up with a plan to get her alone, without appearing suspicious to my coworkers, to explain.
Come to think on it, should I explain? Sure, Jennifer isn't really my girlfriend, but I do have a girlfriend, or two. Other than having an angry boss, maybe it'll be good to stop fooling around with her. Once again, I'm tempted to just up and quit this job. It's not like I don't already have enough stress in my life!
Something stops me, though. It's not that I need the money, but with my apartment gone, my car destroyed, and my entire life flipped upside-down, my job is the only thing I have left.
Why did Angela have to come into my life? Everything started after she showed up in my office. Once more, I feel a pang of hurt from thinking about the succubus, which inevitably reminds me of Brooke leaving.
I need to get over them. They're my past, and I need to concentrate on the present.
"Mr. Snow, get back to work," Sheila states a little louder than I think is truly necessary, but I get back to work nonetheless.
Lunch comes painfully slowly, and I head down to the lobby to meet up with Guard Lansbury.
"You showed up," the now skinny woman states, and from her tone I can't tell if she's happy or disappointed. She walks an arm's length away from me as well, and now I'm truly curious as to what's going on. We walk to a deli around the corner, and I offer to pay for her, but she refuses.
"Look," she starts when we sit down with our food, and I immediately feel my heart sink, "you know I like you, Lyden, but things have been a bit weird. No, let me finish," she says when I try to interrupt, and I close my mouth. "You're involved in something very dangerous, and I'll help you out if I can, but I'm not going to hang around just looking for trouble."
"I understand," I tell the pretty woman, and I really do understand. Truth is, I probably shouldn't even be around Becky and Lisa, but I'm still human, and need some level of companionship. Now that four women have basically rejected me in less than as many days, I'm beginning to wonder what's wrong with me.
Just last week I could have my pick of women. This week I'm lucky to have. . . .
Wait a minute! Why am I getting down on myself? I have two, count 'em, TWO girlfriends. Just because I don't have six? What kind of demented man am I? After last night, I'm not sure if I can really handle any more than two women right now anyway. What is wrong with me?
Yeah, Guard Lansbury's decision is a good thing, I tell myself.
I only wish my heart would buy what my head is selling.
We try to talk amiably through the rest of lunch, but I think we both know it's strained.
When I get back up to my office, I find a flyer on my desk for a church gathering this Saturday, and know that AnnaBelle must have placed it there. My first response is to rip it up and throw it away, but maybe this is what I need right now.
"AnnaBelle," I say to the woman sitting in the desk next to mine, "I'm truly sorry for what I said on Monday. It was inappropriate, and while I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, I'll do what I can to go to this event."
"It's not my forgiveness you should strive for, Lyden, but our Lord and Savior's. Only he can truly forgive." I hate this pious attitude, but I'd meant what I'd said about being wrong in my behavior. "But know that I have already forgiven and forgotten your words from Monday. You're a young man, and I remember when I was younger. I'll see you there."
I nod that I will indeed be there, and even though I'm dreading the experience, I actually intend to follow through.
The rest of the day flows smoothly, and despite the occasional glares from Sheila, I actually feel somewhat better.
After work, I take a cab to Lisa's Dojo. She finds an outfit for me to start getting trained in. At first I'm embarrassed to be lumped into a group of young children. Even though I know I'm a beginner, and I have to start somewhere, having a six year old kid flip me onto my back is humiliating.
I find out that Aikido is a martial arts form that doesn't use strength so much as holds, pressure points, and avoiding direct attacks. It takes me a bit to get used to thinking like this, but after the umpteenth time of a child controlling my movements, I start to pay better attention.
I catch a ride home with Lisa, and offer to make dinner. When I serve my concoction up, we all agree that I may not be the best cook.
Both women are still thankfully satisfied from last night's marathon session, and I'm actually able to get a little sleep sandwiched between the two attractive women. This time we're in Lisa's bed, as Becky's sheets are still in the laundry because of last night.
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