Coulson's Lessons

by McIntyre, Anna J

  He knew the credit belonged to Ryan and Alex. They were fair, paid well, and were genuinely concerned for the crew and customers. He had been a bartender long enough to know every way in which to steal. In most restaurants, it was practically an accepted practice, but not at the Lucky Lady. In his past, he had done his share of skimming. Yet, since coming to the Lucky Lady, he simply did not have the heart to steal anymore. It just did not feel right to take money from people like Ryan and Alex, who would readily give you what they had if you needed it.

  Although he liked Ryan, Alex was the reason Taylor decided to become an honest bartender. Taylor had spent most of his years in the fast lane. Women drifted in and out of his life, and he had purposely steered clear of the kind of girl a mother would want you to bring home.

  Alex was one of those girls. She was honest and decent. He envied Ryan his wife, occasionally regretting the fact that he personally had become so jaded, that it was now too late to find someone like her. Yet, Taylor seriously doubted he would be content for long, even if the woman were Alex herself. However, it did not stop him from having occasional fantasies about his employer, hot fantasies that included laying Alex’s willing naked body across the pool table and plunging deep inside her.

  It was his little secret. Now that Ryan was gone, Taylor felt guilty for coveting the dead man’s wife. Taylor had no intention, now or later, to fulfill his fantasy concerning Alex. He liked her too much.

  Chapter 5

  Wind. Cold. Chicago.

  Warm breezes. Sunshine. Coulson.

  Garret Coulson wanted to go home. Actually, he’d been thinking about it for a long time. It had been ten years. Yet, she had asked only one thing of him, only one thing—not for diamonds, furs, or expensive clothing. Those things would have been easy. She asked him to leave Coulson. She pleaded. With tears in those wonderful hazel eyes that made him ache with need.

  He was beginning to think that enough time had passed. It would be safe to return. Then Russell had called with the news. Garret would feel like an insensitive opportunist if he rushed back now. Alexandra might hate him for it.

  Garret managed to put Alexandra from his daily thoughts over eight years ago. It was only when he made love to a woman that the memory of Alex washed over him. He refused to wonder if Alex thought about him when she was in Ryan’s arms. He simply refused to think of her with Ryan.

  When originally contemplating relocating to Coulson, Garret never considered seeing her again. He would sooner die than step into the Lucky Lady. Yet now, since his brother’s phone call, all that had changed.

  Garret was sorry Ryan was dead. Sorry Adam had lost his father. Sorry Jimmy had lost his brother. Sorry Alex had lost her beloved husband.

  Garret called his personal assistant into his office and announced that he would be returning to Coulson in six months. If she wished to transfer to Coulson, the company would pay all of her expenses. If she wished to stay in Chicago, he would reassign her to another office. She was to understand that Garret’s move was confidential and would not be announced for at least five months.

  Garret Coulson was going home… home to claim what could have been his.

  Alexandra now understood why spouses of the deceased rarely cried at the funeral. She had often wondered how family members could sit stoically through a funeral service while she sobbed uncontrollably. Even if she barely knew the deceased, the tears flowed.

  Throughout the church service, during the procession, and now at the gravesite, not a single tear was in sight. Alexandra could not cry if she tried. She had cried her tears, buckets of them. There was nothing left to cry. She felt empty, bewildered, and incredibly lost without Ryan.

  Alexandra chose not to wear black. Instead, she wore a feminine blue cotton sundress that Ryan had given her. Its full skirt fluttered in the spring breeze. She stood quietly with her family members and watched the pallbearers carry Ryan’s casket to its final resting place.

  They were six solemn men, performing their last favor for her husband. She watched her older brother, Tommy. He had been a rock. She thanked God daily for giving her such a wonderful brother.

  There was Jimmy. Sweet Jimmy, who held her tightly and sobbed inconsolably when he learned of his brother’s fate. Today there were no tears from Jimmy. He too had cried himself dry.

  There was Adam, her baby, her fatherless son, the image of Ryan as a teenager. He had cried quietly in disbelief. Even now, he did not fully comprehend the finality of his father’s death. His hazel eyes held the promise of unshed tears.

  There was Steve. He and Rosa had made all the phone calls to family and friends. They kept the business running. Alexandra felt blessed to have employees that she could call her friends.

  There was Taylor, handsome and devil-may-care. Taylor—when you needed him, he would not let you down.

  Finally, there was Russell Coulson. Russell. Sometimes she forgot how close he had been to Ryan and her brother so many years ago. She had not really known him back then. She had not really known Ryan until he was out of high school.

  Years later, she and Russell forged a secret bond. Alexandra imagined Russell had already told Garret of Ryan’s death. She was thankful for the years she shared with her husband. Thankful that Garret had enabled her to have them.

  Alexandra Maria Chamberlain

  The truth was, Alexandra Maria Chamberlain enjoyed kissing boys. She kissed her first boy in the eighth grade, when Billy Johnson pulled her behind the science lab during lunch hour. It was a puckery, no-tongue kind of a kiss. Nothing spectacular, yet Alex was willing to give it another try.

  In high school, Alexandra had no aversion to petting. But she had plans for her future: college and a career. And while necking was a pleasurable past time, she had no intent to hit a home run with any high school boy. Such a foolish action would undoubtedly ruin her life. If Alex was anything, she was practical and realistic.

  In her junior year, she began dating a handsome senior named Mickey Davidson. They frequently found themselves parked in dark, lonely cul-de-sacs, sprawled out in the back seat of Mickey’s Chevy. They were at one such cul-de-sac on a spring evening. It was warm and stars filled the moonless sky.

  Mickey’s tongue had been thoroughly exploring Alex’s mouth, gently fencing with hers. He laid his body full across Alex’s, gently shifting his weight in an effort to avoid crushing his girlfriend. His busy hand had already found its way under Alex’s blouse and had unfastened her bra strap. Gently fondling her warm, round breasts was enough to drive any hot seventeen-year-old boy over the edge.

  Eagerly, his hand left her breast and tentatively tucked his fingertips between her flat stomach and her jeans. She did not attempt to push his hand away. He continued to kiss Alex wildly, in an attempt to preoccupy her while exploring uncharted territories. She had never let him in her pants before.

  His fingers deftly unbuttoned her jeans and slipped open the zipper. Mickey slid his hand into the warmth of her tightly fitting pants, pushing aside the silky pair of panties and gently loosening the denims by pushing them downward, partially over her hips. His hand found the moist, dark curls beneath the panties and began prodding and exploring. Alex wiggled wildly; Mickey was about to explode. He continued to kiss Alex, terrified that if he stopped, she would halt his exploration.

  Confident Alex was willing to continue, Mickey boldly plunged two of his fingers deep inside his girlfriend. She bucked wildly against his fingers and moments later, experienced her first orgasm. Mickey could feel himself exploding in the confines of his own jeans.

  Alex enjoyed this new experience, yet she never allowed Mickey to remove her pants completely. She also made it very clear that if this were to continue, he would have to keep his own pants zipped up.

  Mickey was certain he would eventually guide Alex to the next level, but she broke up with him before he ever had a chance. Prideful, Mickey refused to allow Alex to see his hurt when she called off their relationship. Instead, he angrily and arroga
ntly warned her not to let another boy put his fingers into her, or they might think she was a slut.

  Alex was not hurt. She did not feel shame or guilt. But she was definitely angry. Mickey’s unwelcomed warning served to soothe her concerns over breaking his heart. He was an ass, she decided.

  The next boy she allowed into her pants was Ryan. Although she had dated other boys and kissed quite a few since her break up with Mickey, she could not imagine going to third base with a casual date.

  Ryan had been her brother’s friend, and she simply had not paid much attention to him until she started high school. He was older, handsome, and incredibly funny. However, she was the kid sister of his best friend, so Alex never considered Ryan to be date material.

  It was during Alex’s senior year that Ryan came to the rescue. Her date to the prom, which happened to be Ryan’s younger brother, had broken his leg. Like a gallant knight, Ryan, a college sophomore, dressed in Jimmy’s tuxedo, escorted his best friend’s little sister to the high school dance.

  The instant he saw her standing in the Chamberlain’s living room, Ryan realized Tommy’s sister had grown up. The soft blue, velour fabric of her formal fell satiny over her curves, and his hands trembled as he pinned on her corsage, extremely aware of her low-cut dress, which revealed an abundance of cleavage.

  When he returned to Coulson during another weekend’s visit away from college, Ryan asked Alex out for another date. Amazingly, he maneuvered her into the back seat of his Mustang convertible, the top down, revealing a full moon.

  Ryan felt no hesitancy or guilt for parking along the lonely country road with his best friend’s sister. What he was doing was natural, and guilt was an emotion reserved for fools who were ashamed of their bodies. Plus, there was no reason for his good buddy to know. He sure as hell was not going to tell him.

  It was only their second date, and already Ryan’s hand had moved below Alex’s blouse and unfastened her bra. One of her full breasts filled his hand; his thumb gently rubbed the already erect nipple. Even Ryan was a bit surprised things were moving so fast.

  Without so much as pushing aside his hand, Alex stopped kissing Ryan and pulled her head back to enable her to have a full view of his face. He looked into her bright eyes, noting how the moonlight fully illuminated her features. He continued to hold her breast; the awareness of its weight filling his hand was thunderous. The two young people sat in deafening silence, each excruciatingly conscious of what Ryan held. He refused to relinquish his prize.

  After the brief silence, Alex spoke. “Ryan,” she began softly, “I don’t play games. I’m not a tease. But when I finally do say no, I will mean no.”

  Ryan smiled at her candor and resumed kissing her thoroughly, eagerly discovering just when she would say no. To his sheer delight, her no did not come as soon as he had expected. When it did come, the boundaries were set. Boundaries he respected.

  Alexandra adored Ryan’s honesty. He was no silly high school boy who wanted to play kiss and tickle while at the same time demanding a share of guilt for the pleasure.

  The following autumn, Ryan visited Alex and her roommate in the college dorm. They smuggled Ryan and her roommate’s boyfriend, along with a six-pack of beer, into their dorm room. While sipping the contraband, their conversation turned to sex.

  Someone mentioned oral sex, and both girls grimaced. Alex, for all of her enjoyment of kissing and petting, could not imagine such a thing. It was just so… Alex shuddered at the thought. Both young men roared with delight, assuring the girls that someday they would change their minds. Alex insisted they were wrong and silently wondered if either of them had done such a thing. She glanced up into Ryan’s eyes and caught a glimpse of a mischievous twinkle. She blushed furiously and became embarrassed. The following year, Alex discovered the truth in Ryan’s prediction. There definitely was merit in oral sex.

  By the next year, Alex and Ryan were discussing the possibility of fully making love. Being practical, Alex visited the gynecologist, got a prescription for birth control pills, and made the commitment. Although the first time was anxious, premeditated, and scarcely romantic, once the deed was done, they perfected the act.

  A week after Alexandra graduated from college she married Ryan Keller. They were happy.

  Two years later their son was born. They were ecstatic.

  When their son, Adam, was a year old, they opened the Lucky Lady Restaurant and Saloon. Life was good.

  After nine years of a happy, rich marriage, Alexandra met Garret Coulson. She had not seen him since she was a frightened child.

  During that year, Alexandra learned the dearest lesson of her life.

  Chapter 6

  Exactly one week after Ryan’s funeral, Alexandra returned to work. She wasn’t driven there by dedication to the business. Nor was it a gallant show of gumption, an example that she was getting on with life.

  She returned because being home alone had become utterly unbearable.

  Her son, Adam, was solemn and withdrawn. Since entering puberty, he had changed from an affectionate, doting son into a surly, know-it-all teenage boy. The one-time mama’s boy transferred all of his attention to his father. He and Ryan talked cars, sports, and whatever other sweaty stuff men and boys discuss. They also argued—angry shouting matches that sent Ryan slamming doors.

  Occasionally, Alex managed to rope Adam into a meaningful conversation. Adam called them lectures. One such talk occurred a few weeks before Ryan’s death. It involved Alex’s discovery of a six-pack of beer stashed in her son’s closet.

  He used his favorite excuse. But, Mom, I was raised in a bar. Alex told him that was a twisted view of reality and reminded Adam it was illegal.

  She went on to highlight the dangers of drinking. But we always have a designated driver. Making poor judgments when under the influence. But I can handle myself. Right. Increased chances of unprotected sex. But I decided not to have sex while I’m in high school. Sweet thought, good intentions. Not buying it. You could get carried away. I can handle it. I’d never get carried away. Like maybe, I’d believe that if I hadn’t been your age once.

  Alexandra was grateful for Adam’s uncle, Jimmy. Grateful there was someone familiar, loving, and solid to become a father figure to her son. It was obvious Jimmy needed Adam as much as the teenager needed him.

  Since Adam had not been very talkative to his mother, even before his father’s death, she honestly could not say if he was less communicative than usual. There was one noticeable change. Adam became affectionate again. He began kissing his mother goodnight, patting her shoulder and occasionally hugging her for no apparent reason.

  In spite of Adam’s sudden show of affection, he was rarely home. He had been rarely home before his father’s death. Their house became incredibly quiet, and the silence was deafening. Alex had no patience for television. She could not get interested in books. And so, she returned to work.

  One week later, she wanted to go home again. If one more customer, some well-meaning individual who had not seen her since before the accident, came up and hugged her, offering sincere condolences, she was certain she would scream like a deranged madwoman.

  By the following week, there were no more condolences. She suspected Steve had managed to intercede, warning away the well-meaning sympathizers.

  Almost three weeks after Ryan’s funeral, Alexandra discovered something. She could cry again. Every night, as she climbed into her lonely bed, the tears came. As she clutched her feather pillow, quiet tears fell non-stop. Her biggest regret was not being able to say goodbye. She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her. What a wonderful father, husband, and friend he had been.

  She began losing weight, and by the sixth week, she realized that her life had stopped. Then she saw Ryan.

  Alexandra sat in her darkened living room. She had left the restaurant much earlier than normal. Adam was on a date, and she did not expect him back for at least two hours. She wore an oversized flannel nightgown, one that Ryan de
tested. The only illumination in the room came from the light of the aquarium.

  She curled up on the couch and dozed. It was not really sleep, more of a quick series of naps, when she would jerk wide-awake and then settle down for another brief doze.

  After an hour of this fitful rest, she resigned herself to wakefulness. Aware and certainly not asleep, Alex closed her eyes briefly and then opened them. There before her was Ryan, not two feet away, full-sized and wearing his favorite blue plaid shirt and the most beautiful, peaceful, comforting smile. His vision had the appearance of back lighting; his outline was almost glowing.

  He looked intently at Alexandra and gave her the same encouraging smile he had given her countless times when she had needed his support.

  Her eyes opened wide in disbelief, and as abruptly as he appeared, he was gone.

  She wasn’t afraid. Warmth and love engulfed her as she nestled back into the couch cushions. Ryan had said goodbye. He knew. It was all right to move forward.

  She would get by.

  The following week, while at work, Alex abruptly realized that the world no longer revolved around Ryan’s passing. It was as if she was the only one to realize the profound impact of his missing presence. People continued to speak fondly of him when he was mentioned, or they would ask how Adam was doing. Yet, the truth was, life was going on without him. She really did not think that was fair. But she accepted it.

  July arrived. It was hot—sweltering—but business was good. During the hottest evening of the year, Alex’s air conditioner sputtered, whined, and abruptly stopped working. Since it was too late to call in a repairperson, she opened all the windows and searched the garage for an electric fan.

  Sleeping alone, atop the satin comforter, the noisy fan sent a stream of air blowing non-stop over her nude body. Alex was lulled to sleep by the sound of the fan’s not too subtle motor.