by BJ Wane
As he hammered a board into place with a breeze tickling the back of his sweaty neck, Kurt’s mind wandered to the evening he spent getting to know the members of The Barn, and how his thoughts were constantly disrupted by intruding memories of those few hours he’d enjoyed with Leslie. It was only natural, wasn’t it, to wonder, and worry about the woman with the haunted eyes and the desperate pleas? He figured the only way to settle his conscience was to make another trip into Billings with the sole purpose of looking her up and checking on her welfare. He figured once he did that, he could put her out of his mind and get on with entertaining some of the eager submissives he’d met at the club. Besides reconnecting with Caden, his best friend from school, that was one of the perks of returning home, and a great outlet to relieve some of the stress from dealing with his father on a daily basis.
Kurt returned to the house at noon, sweaty, dirty, aching in a good way and ready to put a few hours in at his desk right after lunch. As soon as he stepped inside and heard Leland’s belligerent yelling from his room, he knew a shower and food would have to wait.
“I said no, and I meant it! One more word and you’re fired.”
With a sigh and a surge of muscle-tightening anger, he strode down the hall and flung open the door without knocking. “What the hell are you bellowing about?” It pissed him off to see Leland still sitting by the window where Kurt had left him earlier, his hair disheveled, his face flushed as he glared at poor Cory.
“He,” Leland jabbed a finger at his aide, “says you called off my home therapy visits. That true?”
“We discussed this, Dad,” he answered, struggling for calm. “You’re well enough to go in for therapy. Tamara has more equipment and resources at the clinic to help get you back on your feet than here.”
“And I told you I’m not leaving the ranch,” he shot back without an explanation.
“Why? Everyone knows about your stroke, it’s not as if anyone who sees you rolling into the clinic will be surprised. You need to get out of this…” Kurt flung his hand toward Brittany’s shrine, “mausoleum.” There, it was out. The wedge between them that was still keeping them apart.
A stricken look crossed Leland’s face, one Kurt couldn’t recall witnessing before. Shifting his bleak expression from Brittany’s picture back out the window, he said in a quiet subdued tone, “Go have lunch. I’ll think about therapy.”
Kurt saw Cory’s shoulders relax and nodded at him. It was a small boon, but it was progress. “Come into the kitchen and join me. You haven’t taken a meal with me since I returned.” He shoved aside the pang of hurt that wrought.
Instead of snapping in annoyance, his voice conveyed sad resignation that both frustrated and saddened Kurt as Leland replied, “No, go away, son.”
“I’ll get your tray, Mr. Wilcox.” Cory followed Kurt out, saying, “Don’t give up. He’s changed since you’ve returned, but he’s wrestling with something I can’t get out of him.”
“I’ve noticed the change, but I’ve also seen the surliness I’ve come to expect. He blows hot and cold.” Slapping him on the back as they reached the kitchen, Kurt said, “You deserve a raise. Let me look at the books…”
Cory shook his head. “Thank you, but your dad just gave me a hefty pay increase. Yeah,” he added when Kurt’s eyes widened in surprise, “caught me off guard too.”
In the past, Kurt always had to go to battle for wage increases and charitable contributions as Leland tended to hoard his money close. He always won the battles, but he’d never known his father to increase anyone’s salary out of the blue, on his own, no matter how deserving. “So, another change we’ll have to consider. At least it’s a good one.”
“Oh, it was very good.” He didn’t ask, but Cory’s wide smile proved how pleased he was with it.
“There you two are.” Babs pulled a large bowl out of the refrigerator. “Come have some potato salad and meatloaf. I was just getting ready to fix Mr. Wilcox’s tray.”
“I’ll be in after I shower, Babs. Thanks.”
Now, Kurt pondered as he went to his room, stripped and stepped under the hot spray, if only he could talk his dad into picking up the pace on therapy, get one blonde haired woman with lonely blue eyes out of his head and get caught up on paperwork, things just might settle down into a pleasant routine around here.
“Bye, Ms. Collins.”
Leslie smiled down at her second grader who never failed to give her a hug on his way out to the bus. “See you tomorrow, Timothy.” She ruffled his bright red hair, her heart turning over when he gave her a gapped-tooth grin and finger wave before scampering down the front steps of the school.
For most people, Wednesdays signaled hump day and the downslide to the weekend they were looking forward to. She viewed mid-week as getting close to spending another weekend alone in self-imposed isolation and wrestling with her plaguing thoughts. Pivoting, she went back inside to gather up her take-home work, thinking for about the tenth time what a mistake it was to turn tail and leave before entering the club last weekend. The past four nights since, her dreams were not only invaded by a dominant stranger sharing her bed but taunted by her cowardice in being unable to get back into the groove of visiting her favorite social hangout.
I’ll just keep going back until I get over this funk, she decided as she returned to her classroom and started pushing in chairs and straightening desks. A knock on the open door drew her attention and when she saw Alan coming in, she prayed it wasn’t to ask her out again.
“Hey, how’s your week going?” he asked, leaning a hip against her desk as she walked behind it.
“Good. How about yours?” Picking up the stack of papers she was taking home to grade, she reached down to grab her satchel.
“Here.” He beat her to it, their fingers brushing. A fleeting flashback of the hot flush that had jolted her the moment Kurt’s hands wrapped around her arms to assist her up from the sidewalk shook Leslie. As usual, with Alan there was no spark, which was both sad and a relief. “A few of us are stopping in at Chelsea’s on the way home. Care to join us?”
The hopeful expression on his face kept Leslie from accepting the invitation. “Thanks, but I have a lot to do and would rather go straight home. Maybe next time.”
He shrugged but disappointment clouded his eyes. “Sure. Have a nice evening then.”
Maybe I should request a move, Leslie thought as she watched Alan walk out and then locked up her desk. A new city, maybe in a different state might be what she needed to move forward without so many regrets. But as she drove to her apartment, she realized she would miss the familiarity of Billings and the teachers she worked with as much as she would miss visiting the club and the minimal socializing she’d allowed herself to enjoy. Speaking of which…
As soon as Leslie slid out of her car, Nan pulled into the slot next to her, beaming as she, Sydney, Tamara and Avery all converged on her. “What are you doing here?” Leslie asked, perplexed to see them in front of her apartment.
“I brought Chinese.” Nan held up a large bag of take-out that smelled wonderful.
“And we each brought a bottle of wine.” Sydney gripped a sacked bottle by the neck, the same as Tamara and Avery.
Tamara cocked her head toward Leslie’s apartment. “Are you going to invite us in or did we make this trip for nothing?”
Flustered, pleased and curious, Leslie smiled. “Sorry. You just took me by surprise. Please, come in.” Unlocking her door, she held it open, saying, “I don’t have much room but we can squeeze around my table to eat. How’d you know I love Chinese?”
“We didn’t.” Nan set the large bag on the cozy round table in the corner. “But, really, who doesn’t?”
“We can wait if you want to change and get comfy,” Avery offered as Leslie laid her satchel of papers on a small desk next to her laptop.
“I would, thanks.” She pointed to the cupboards next to the sink. “Plates and glasses are in there. Help yourself. I only have one set of wine
glasses.”
Sydney shooed her toward the bedroom. “That’s all we need, now go get changed then come join us. We have questions.”
That caused Leslie to stumble with wary nervousness, her jaw going rigid at the tenable position they didn’t know they could put her in with too many personal questions. Before she could say anything, Tamara jumped in. “Don’t worry, you can tell us to mind our own business and we’ll still share the food and wine. We mostly want to make sure you’re okay since you haven’t visited the club in weeks.” She flipped Nan a censoring glare. “When someone else stayed away without a word, it was to eventually learn she could have used her friends a lot sooner.”
“Are you ever going to let me live that down?” Nan grumbled.
“No,” Sydney, Tamara and Avery all replied in unison.
“Trust me, Leslie. It’s much easier to either unload now or tell us to back off than to keep silent. Been there, done that,” Nan quipped with a rueful look.
She knew enough about the months Nan was away to know the tall, slender brunette dropped contact with her closest friends until she’d returned to Willow Springs last May. Leslie also heard about the horrendous ordeal that had kept her gone and silent on the matter for so long. Seeing the difference in Nan now as opposed to when she’d first come back to the club, and remembering the scenes between her and Master Dan that had worked to get her over her fears, it was hard not to envy the woman she’d known the longest out of the group; not what she’d gone through, but the relationship that had born fruit from her trauma.
“I’ll be right out,” she mumbled, pivoting to dash into her room.
Leslie never expected such a considerate gesture from people she’d kept at arm’s length since meeting them. Sydney and Avery had bonded as newcomers to the club, and the town of Willow Springs. Tamara returned to her father’s ranch last year after living away for five years, and her and Nan’s friendship dated back to their school days. Of the four, Leslie had known Nan the longest, having met her the first night she visited the club. But not once in those three years had Nan made such a friendly overture, nor had she. This combined attempt to reach out to her stirred up the longing to include others in her everyday life, to build relationships instead of always remaining on guard against establishing them too deeply.
Changing into a worn pair of jeans and tee shirt, she padded barefoot back out to the kitchen, a warmth filling her chest as she saw them sitting at her table covered with take-out containers and chit-chatting as if comfortable in her small apartment. Their unexpected presence and concerned overtures didn’t change her circumstances, but, God, their well-meaning intentions produced such a much-needed good feeling.
“We found paper plates,” Avery said as Leslie sat down. “No sense in leaving you with a stack of dirty dishes.”
“I wouldn’t mind, not in exchange for not having to cook dinner.” She spooned a serving of sweet and sour chicken onto a plate. “I rarely fuss and this looks as good as it smells.”
“Cooking for one sucks. I used to box up food from the restaurant I worked at in St. Louis before heading home so I wouldn’t have to fix something for just myself the next day.” Sydney passed the fried rice with a deft change of subject. “So what gives, Les? You haven’t come out to The Barn in weeks. Is everything okay?”
As much as she appreciated their concern, she couldn’t exactly say, Leslie Collins isn’t my real name and if this rich guy who vowed revenge on me for testifying against his murderous sons ever finds out where I’m at, it could put anyone close to me in jeopardy.
“Hey.” Nan reached over and squeezed her arm. “We don’t mean to pry. I know we’re not close, and always figured you had your reasons for keeping to yourself. Just tell us to back off and we will. Sometimes, it’s enough to know there are people you can turn to if you ever need, or want to. That’s all we’re trying to do today.”
The tenseness eased out of Leslie’s shoulders as she nodded and then let her gaze scan the other three. “Thank you, all of you. I can tell you there are… issues I can’t relate to anyone that prevent me from making personal commitments, but you’re right. Knowing I can reach out if I’m ever free to do so means a lot. Almost,” she added with a teasing grin, “as much as this food. This is the best Chinese I’ve ever eaten.” She shoveled in a forkful of moo goo gai pan into her mouth as everyone relaxed.
“Speaking of the club, we have to tell you about the two new members. They are Hot with a capital H.” Tamara sighed and fanned herself.
Leslie laughed. “I thought you only had eyes for Master Connor.”
“My eyes are free to look their fill, but my heart has always belonged to my husband. And now that I know for sure I have his, there’s no way I’ll do anything except look.”
A dreamy haze filled Avery’s brown eyes. “And fantasize. Sheesh, one look at Doctor Mitchell Hoffstetter can conjure up a slew of steamy imaginings.”
“Speaking of fantasies,” Nan said, looking toward Leslie. “The guys are planning a masquerade night in a couple of weeks. Dan mentioned it, and said they were considering requiring the subs to come in costume but leaving it up to the Doms if they want to participate. I already have a few ideas in mind. If you decide to attend, I’m always up to coming to Billings to shop.”
Sydney, Avery and Tamara were quick to chime in and a stirring of interest in the idea tickled Leslie’s stomach. Since it was still a few weeks off, she had time to get her act together and stop the moping over circumstances beyond her control.
Talk turned to men, unforgettable scenes that produced those awesome orgasms Leslie had never experienced before exploring her interest in alternative sex. As she ate and listened to the banter going on around her table, her mind drifted to the stranger who had also wrung several off-the-chart climaxes from her perspiring, writhing body. She wondered if he ever thought of her, and if so, was it with pleasure or disbelief over her irresponsible decision to invite him into her home? She supposed it didn’t matter now what he thought of her or those hours they spent together naked. The odds of them ever meeting again were virtually nil, and that was for the best.
It didn’t take long after she thanked the girls again and said good-bye for the loneliness to creep in. An hour later, the silence of her apartment pressed down on her and she tried remedying that by turning on the television while she graded papers. But even the tin-canned laughter from sitcom reruns couldn’t suppress the ache to talk and laugh with friends again.
It wasn’t as if she’d spent the last three years in total seclusion, she thought with a surge of annoyance with herself. She’d enjoyed meeting her co-workers for drinks or lunch, and a few times she’d taken in a movie with her divorced neighbor upstairs. When Carl had pushed for more than a platonic evening of companionship, Leslie put a stop to those evenings out. It helped he remained friendly and was already seeing someone else.
Even though Billings was a fraction of the size of Reno with considerably fewer attractions and venues for entertainment, Leslie admitted there was a certain appeal to the slower paced, smaller town living, not to mention the scenic vistas of the surrounding mountain-backed prairies. She still found herself slowing on the highway when she spotted a herd of slow-moving, shaggy-haired bison or the streak of several graceful pronghorn antelope out across the meadows. Whenever these depressing moods would hit her in the past, all she had to do to dispel them was think about the positive aspects of the changes in her life or force herself to go out with acquaintances she enjoyed spending time with.
But those anecdotes failed to work this time around, pushing her into easing her despondency with a one-night stand. Just because that night had resulted in an awesome, unforgettable few hours didn’t negate the risk she’d taken by making that rash decision, or convince her she should push her luck and try for a repeat with another stranger. She wasn’t that desperate. Yet.
By the time Leslie climbed into bed, she’d decided to put out the effort to return to the club a
gain as soon as she was certain she wouldn’t turn tail and run just because others were lucky enough to have what she didn’t, or ever could.
Four weeks later
Despite her resolve to get over her funk and move on, the month of September flew by before Leslie got around to returning to The Barn. With having several students this year who were struggling with learning disabilities, she’d taken up tutoring both after school and on Saturdays to help them keep up. Then her car’s transmission went out and she wasn’t prepared for the hefty repair bill. Instead of tacking on to her unexpected expense by renting a vehicle for the week hers was in the shop, she hitched rides to school with another teacher and stayed home over the weekend. The following week was the school’s open house and fun night and after that an allergic reaction to something she ate laid her up for yet another weekend. During all that, Sydney, Avery, Tamara and Nan had taken turns sending her a short text at the end of each week, keeping the message to simple ‘will we see you this week?’ or ‘hope you can make it tonight’ comments that helped keep her thoughts on the positive side and her spirits up.
Before she knew it, the first weekend in October was upon her with nothing to keep her from driving out to the club. After answering Nan’s text and confirming she would see her this weekend at the club, Nan reminded her about masquerade night. Reading Nan’s response drew a smile from Leslie and boosted her confidence in being able to return without selfish ill-feelings getting her down.
