Not again Jack thought after reading the latest Dear Jack letter from Emma, his lover of five years. Her letters came at least quarterly, sometimes more often, depending on her emotional swings. Her letters were a result of a miscommunication or a misunderstanding on her part, he thought. She reads between the words and never comes up aces. She drives me nuts. Why can’t she accept the relationship as is, without expectations? Why is it, women want words of love, he thought.
Jack and Emma’s chance encounter stood both of them still. They were standing in line at the American Express office in London, both waiting for new credit cards.
“I left my card in a café at the San Francisco Airport,” Emma said.
“At least you left home with yours, mine is in the back pocket of my 501’s draped over the bedroom arm chair,” Jack replied.
He was tired from the flight which he attributed to why he fell into a comfortable ease, not something he had ever done. Emma an artist, unexposed wires, and he, the scientist, his wiring covered by a double layer steel panel, keeping his feelings in deep lock down. They shared a taxi, then dinner. Their first kiss stunned Jack, the way their hands fit together, glove over hand, second skin, and knowing his hands belonged on her body. It was that sort of fit; he had waited for that moment his entire life without realization. The honesty of the moment terrified him. Both he and Emma felt the rush at the same instant. Jack ran. Suspended in time was only something he had read about in this youth, back when he preferred science fiction to business proposals. Finding Emma made up for all those empty nights he spent with his wife.
Emma couldn’t get enough. She was the first woman who matched his desire, one for one, two by two, until both drank greedily without inhibition. Five years had passed since the first kiss and their lovemaking remained fresh, new, and exciting; better than winter’s first blush.
PREVIOUS PAGE
