Grant Roberts - The wayward wifes

Patty turned her face away, staring at the wall, and didn't reply.

Marcia toyed with the bottom folds on the towel. "I know what you must… think of me, after last night,” she said slowly. "I guess I'd best explain about myself.”

Patty said nothing.

"You see," Marcia went on, "I'm an extremely physical person. The needs of my body govern my mind at times, if you know what I mean. I suppose I'm oversexed anyway, but when I need lovemaking, when I need to make love, I simply can't wait beyond that first sperate urge. I have to do it, or I become so agitated I think I'm going to lose my mind sometimes. I'm not a lesbian, Patty; I much prefer a man with me, inside me, a man to kiss the way I was kissing you last night. But with Roger in Viet Nam, and no other man available right now, I… well, I just had to have someone. I've had women before, I'll admit not very often, but once in awhile, when I couldn't find other outlets. I guess I really am sort of screwed up sexually, but everyone has hangups, you know."

Patty turned her face toward her. "You mean, you… you've been with other men while Roger's been gone…?"

"Yes I have," Marcia admitted. "One or two. I can't help myself, and Roger knows that and understands. He also knows I love him, very much, and that these other… liaisons really don't mean a thing to me." She paused, her face softening in a gentle, woman-to-woman smile. "I hope you'll forgive me, honey, for last night. I… I don't want to lose your friendship, Patty.”

Patty was struck with a sudden compassion for this woman who was her friend, and the awful images in her brain of the lewd acts Marcia had performed on her body faded and paled into insignificance. Who was she to judge this poor woman? She, whom Tom Jennings had called a gutter whore and said had been leading him on, tempting him with lascivious movements of her lush body. If she expected to be forgiven for her transgressions, her "hangups" as Marcia had put it, then couldn't she find it in her heart to forgive another for hers?

"Oh Marcia," she said finally, "yes, I forgive you! I don't want to lose your friendship either! But you-we must never do what… we did again. You have to promise me that"

"I promise," Marcia answered solemnly, and she reached out and clasped Patty's hand. Then she stood, smiling, and returned to the bathroom. Patty slid out of bed and put on her robe, wrapping it tightly around her. She went out into the duplex's tiny kitchen and found fresh made coffee and poured herself a cup. She was sitting at the breakfast nook, sipping it, when Marcia came in, fully dressed, a few minutes later.

"Oh good, I see you found the coffee," Marcia said.

"Yes. It's very good."

Marcia beamed. "I've put out a loose-fitting housedress of mine which you should be able to wear until you can get your clothes." She paused. "Speaking of that, when are you going to pick up your clothes? And return the Jennings' car?"

"I… hadn't thought about it," Patty replied.

"Well, you should," Marcia told her. "I know you don't want to stay with the Jennings any longer, and I certainly don't blame you, but your things are there, after all, and you'll have to move them out. And if you don't bring the car back, Larry's father is liable to have the police looking for it; from what you've told me, he sounds like that sort of bastard."

"I guess I could do that this morning," Patty said reflectively. "He's left for work by now, and there's no one else home; he always takes the Muni bus."

"Good! Tell you what: I'll follow you to the Jennings' and help you load your things into my car. Then we'll bring them back here."

"But I can't stay with you, Marcia," Patty said. "I'd be intruding.

"Nonsense! I'd love to have you, Patty, sincerely I would. I get terribly lonesome for a friend sometimes."

"Well… if you're sure you won't mind…”

"Not at all," Marcia said. "I'll call in to work and tell them I'll be late this morning. Then, after you're dressed, we can be on our way."

"Oh!" Patty said suddenly. "I'll have to call in, too, to tell them I won't…”

"Don't worry, honey. I've already taken care of that for you. I told your boss you'd be taking a couple of days off, that you weren't feeling too well. He said he understood. I really don't think you ought to go back to work right away after an experience like you had with Larry's father."

"You're so good to me, Marcia," Patty said gratefully. "Thank you for all you've done for me." She blushed slightly at the inference of inclusion of last night's lesbian lovemaking.

Marcia seemed not to notice. "What else are friends for?" she asked rhetorically, and moved toward the telephone in the hallway.

Patty was preparing supper, lamb chops and a tossed green salad with roquefort dressing, when Marcia arrived home from work a little past six that night.

Patty had spent the day uneventfully. She had returned Tom Jennings' car, and the house had been deserted, as she had expected it to be. With Marcia's help, they had moved as much of her belongings as Marcia's car would allow and she had left a note for Jennings saying that she had moved out and would pick up the remainder of her things, hers and Larry's at some later date; she hadn't mentioned where she was staying.

When they had returned to Marcia's duplex and the clothing and other items had been moved from the car inside, Marcia had bid Patty good-bye and left for work. Patty had watched some television, trying to relax, and then read an historical novel which she found in the storage closet until the time came to prepare supper.

Marcia, coming into the kitchen now, said, "Patty, you didn't have to bother making dinner."

"But I wanted to," Patty answered. "It gave me something to do."

"You're a dear," Marcia said. She sat down at the table as Patty began to toss the salad in a large wooden bowl. "We've been invited to a party tonight."

"A party?"

"Yes. At the home… in St. Francis Woods, no less… of Richard Renault. You've heard of him, surely."

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, he's one of San Francisco's oldest and richest playboys, the heir to a Peruvian tin mine fortune. You have to be… well, terribly flattered when he invites you to one of his exclusive little parties."

Patty frowned. "How do you know this Mr. Renault?"

"He… ah, is a client of the brokerage firm where I work," Marcia replied easily. "I've been to one other of his parties; they're great fun, Patty."

"But he doesn't even know who I am," Patty countered. "Why would he invite me? Are you sure that he…?"

"I told him all about you, and he insisted that I bring you along tonight."

"Marcia, I really don't think a party…”

"It will do you good to get out and have some fun," Marcia told her. "That's the best way to forget… unpleasant experiences. Now I won't have you sitting around here in a sad and depressed state, so please say you'll come with me tonight."

"Well…" Patty considered the idea for a moment, deciding that Marcia was probably right; there was no purpose to be served in sitting around and dwelling on life's dirty dealings. Why shouldn't she have a little fun, meet some new people? God knew, she'd had enough unhappiness to last her a lifetime. She said at length, "All right, Marcia, I will come tonight. It sounds like it might be enjoyable."

"Oh it will be," Marcia said, smiling, “It will be, honey.”

After supper, and after the dishes had been done, Marcia and Patty dressed for their outing. Patty selected a simply designed party dress, carefully brushed and sprayed her long reddish-gold hair, and applied a touch of perfume and some frosted pink lipstick. Marcia, wearing a clinging red dress of rustling material, nodded her approval when Patty emerged ready to go from the bathroom. "You look lovely, Patty!" she enthused.