Finding Rene

She lifted her grey eyes back up and stared me right into the eyes. I don't know how she did it but it seemed she was peering into my soul. "Bill, you have been, and are, what I've needed, not just emotionally. Psychologically. Physically. I've fought hard all my life but I came through. Damaged, but I came through. I've been limping all of my life and not just with my leg. But with you, I feel that my psychological and emotional limp is fading away. For the first time ever."

"You had Timothy, Laura, you were mistaken but at least you loved him, you..."

"No!" she cut me off sharply. "Timothy was never a Bill Wycliffe, don't even go there."

"It still doesn't change anything does it, Laura."

"No, it doesn't."

"And it doesn't change the same solution we came up with the last time we had this conversation."

"No, it doesn't.

"Let's just enjoy the remaining time we have together."

"Yes, and I'm still going to fuck your brains out tonight."

"Oh," I said looking around, "where's Spike, the waitress?"

She giggled. That was so nice to see.

We ate quietly for a few moments. I was just enjoying being with Laura and she, I knew, with me. I could see her eyes twinkling, a smile on her thin lips and the odd little twitch on the chin signaling a profound thought pattern firing through her brain. The reality was that I couldn't stop looking at her. She had me completely mesmerized.

"I have to admire you, Laura," I said as I scooped out the last of my pie, trying to get her back to reality, she looked at me unsure where I was going, "polio, abused as a child, an unfaithful fiancé..."

"Boyfriend."

"Whatever... a father who was shot. Emotionally, I'd say that you've come through pretty well."

She chuckled. "I came through limping, but you've missed a few things."

"I have?"

"Well, for starters, there was that police inquiry. I can't fully express what a massive strain that was for three-and-a-half years."

"If you didn't tell your mom, did you confide in anyone? Or were you all alone.?"

"My friend Flo, who I love dearly, poured me many a stiff drink and had to endure me sobbing on her shoulder on many occasions. She's a god-sent angel."

Thank god she wasn't alone.

" And I still don't believe he committed suicide."

Clearly, she couldn't shake it off and move on in life.

"Because I was a suspect, I didn't get to see all of the evidence. I saw enough to know there were discrepancies with the suicide hypothesis. Forensics is way more advanced than what we see on the telly."

"Ppubb, I guess." My mouth was full of fries.

"Also," she paused to sip her beer, "another life challenge I suppose was that I left home at seventeen to get away from that bastard father of mine. I had to put my own way through uni. That wasn't easy. Mum didn't help."

I swallowed, "Why not; she loves you?"

"I ran away from home."

"What did you do?"

"I stayed with friends for a while, but I'd always had a part time job that paid pretty well, even through uni."

"What was that?"

"You won't believe me."

"Laura, there is nothing you are going to tell me that I won't believe."

She smiled, "I played for Manchester United dressed up like a bloke. With my little titties they could never tell."

"Okay, that I don't believe."

We both laughed at that. It was nice to have her back.

"I was," she paused, "the greeter at an undertakers."

I laughed, "Really?"

"Absolutely, and it was a wonderful job and it paid surprisingly well. I would sit at a desk by the front door doing my studies, dressed in a nice skirt and blouse until the front door opened, then I would close my book and pad, get up and," she put on a pained, concerned face, "meet them, and, 'You're here to view Mr. Henderson? Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss.'" She waved her arm slowly. "Right this way..."

I was chuckling.

"I can see you doing that," I said, "and I bet that skinny leg helped."

"It did!" she blurted out, "I knew what they were thinking when they saw me, 'Oh, this poor girl is half dead already!'"

"Ah, haa, haaa!"

We laughed for a couple of moments and then calmed ourselves down. The last of my food was starting to get cold.

"You wondered what other challenges I had in life," she said.

I took a deep breath, "I didn't mean to drag up painful stuff, Laura."

"Not painful, just simple reality."

Okay. I bit into some salad.

"Let's face it. I don't have Marilyn Monroe's body."

If I wasn't chewing I would have said something.

"And the worst thing," she continued, "and something that I continually have to fight, as I said, is depression, low self-esteem, shame for what he did to me and humiliation. I'm fully aware that those are a long term legacies from what my father did."

"Shame and humiliation? How can that be? It wasn't your fault." I was genuinely confused.

"I know it's illogical, but there it is," she answered as I ate. "And self-doubt," she added. "To this day I find myself wondering, perhaps it's all my fault. Did I smile too sweetly at him? Did I wear something too provocative?"

"That's crazy Laura. You said that started at age eleven?"

"When we travelled to Lindisfarne. That's how I clearly remembered how old I was."

"Oh, Laura, I'm so sorry for even bringing this up."

"Please don't be. I have to face my demons."

I could feel my eyes swell. "I'm in awe; I really am."

"I'm finished," she said as put her knife and fork onto her plate, then wiped her mouth with her napkin.

I took the last swig of my pint and popped the last few fries in my mouth.

"Everyone's life has its ups and downs," she volunteered, "mine is no different."

I laughed, "I'm looking for the ups in your life-story."

"You're an up," she said, smiling while reaching out to my hand again.

I kissed her fingers, unwittingly leaving some ketchup on her knuckles.

"Ewww," she laughed, pulling her hand away. "Toma-ah sowse."

"I'm sorry," I started to chuckle and cleaned her off with the napkin.

"Did you want more beer?" she asked.

"Sure" I smiled, wiping my mouth dry. It was still early. I waved to the bar, held up two fingers, my index and middle finger, while pointing to the empty beer glasses with my other hand. The bartender acknowledged.

"In Londinium, this distant outpost of Rome," she said with smiling eyes, "not that long ago, you'd get five pints with that gesture."

"Ahh ha ha!"

She laughed back at me.

I held her hands in mine and we smiled at each other for a few moments not saying anything, just savoring the moment.

Eventually I slipped my hands from hers and picked up my napkin. "Laura, you are a riot. You really are funny."

"And horny."

"Careful," I said. "Here comes Spike the waitress with our two pints."

"You are right; we don't want to embarrass ourselves."

"That wouldn't really be embarrassing, though," I suggested as the pints were placed on the table with fresh Fullers mats. I got one, too. Spike picked up the empties and plates, it was quite the display of piling one thing on top of the next; waitressing arts, I guessed.

"Anyfink else?" she asked.

"Just the check, thanks." Spike walked away loaded with empties and spent dishes.

"What would constitute embarrassing, then?" Laura asked.

"Oh, I don't know." I took a sip of my beer, thinking. "Oh, how about when I was an usher at my brother's wedding and about half the photos recording the event have me with my fly undone?"

She started chuckling.

There was a crashing noise in the kitchen. Laura and I bolted stares at each other and burst out laughing.

"Oh dear, the poor girl," I managed, "I'll have to tip her well in case that's coming out of her pocket."

Laura smiled at me.

"Where were we?" I asked.

"Your brother's wedding. Your fly was undone."

"Yes," I recalled, the timing of the story was completely off now. "No one noticed or said anything for at least thirty minutes."

"I guess that would have been embarrassing."

"It was." I took a sip of my beer, "And then there was the time when I was in high school, walking down the hall with my buddy, and I announced in too loud a voice that I'd love to fuck Miss Wilson who, of course, unknown to me, was standing two feet away and turned beet red."

"'Ere you go, fank you," Spike was grinning.

"Holy shit!"

Laura was banging on the table with one hand, clutching her side with the other, snorting.

"My whole life is a constant embarrassment, Laura," I laughed. "I can't help myself." "Or how about the time that I was getting a blow-job from this amazing woman and her aunt walks in?"

"Ha! ha ha!" Laura was banging the table with both hands.

There were tears in my eyes.

The other patrons were wondering about us we started getting glances. It took a few minutes and a few good swigs of beer to calm ourselves down.

"So what about you? What's your most embarrassing moment?"

"Ah... you don't want to know." She took a sip of her beer.

"Of course I do. What," I chuckled, "is it just too embarrassing?"

"Huh," her shoulders slowly jumped up and down in recalled laughter and her head shook.

"D'you really want to know?"

"Yeah," I knew it would be amusing. "Precious fruit," I added.

She and I both took a good swill of beer and set the glasses down.

She leaned in a little, lowered her voice and in her best cultured Brit voice said, "So the four of us ladies purposefully met at this bar/club near Mayfair. We had drinks, it was summertime and we were all dressed to the nines. I was wearing my favorite little black dress, no bra, black shiny tights, thong and dangerously high heels. One of the girls, a fantastically elegant and refined woman named Elona that I'd been trying to," she paused to look into my eyes to make sure I was following, "hook-up with for several weeks, agreed to meet us for drinks, go out for dinner and then we'd see where the evening took us."

"Okay," I said, smiling while twirling my beer glass.

"You have to understand, I'd had the hots for this woman for months. The whole thing was a set up with my friends so that we'd have the opportunity to... bond, even if it was going to be in a small group atmosphere."

I'm sure my eyes were wide. I loved the way she said 'hots' with her Brit accent.

"Elona was probably ten, maybe twelve years older than me. Divorced, got all the money, kids are on their own. She was gorgeous, a statuesque blonde woman with all the right curves and with classic beauty about her. I was crazy in lust. And she had already hinted to Maggie that after dinner, we may all want to go back to her flat for a nightcap."

"I like where this is going."

Laura stared back at me before resuming.

"My friends, Nicki and Maggie, were with me. Maggie had been to her place before. Apparently it was a fabulous apartment."

"Okay." I twirled my beer glass with my fingers.

"We had met and had drinks at the bar/club and before the loud music started up and the butch dykes showed up, we went down the street to a new Thai restaurant that everyone had been raving on about."

It all seemed pretty normal so far.

"The food was great, we had a wonderful time, lots of wine. No one was driving. It was laughs all around. I really felt that there was a vibe happening between me and Elona. It was all working perfectly to plan."

"Strange world you live in, but please go on." I took a sip of my drink, wondering what could be so embarrassing? She gets stood up at the end of the night by some rich bitch?

"Nicki wasn't going to come back to Elona's place because she was in a monogamous relationship with Fanny, so she grabbed a cab and headed home and the three of us hailed a cab to Elona's."

I was starting to get seriously turned on listening to this.

"A three-way?" I asked, "a lesbian three-way?" I'm sure I had a shocked look on my face.

"Well, maybe," she said. "The point was for Elona and me to get together."

"Okay," I said, I'm sure I was grinning.

She paused for a moment to be certain that I was following and took a sip of her Smithwicks.

"I knew there was something wrong before the cab came."

I just watched Laura.

"I got in the front seat, the other two into the back. Elona was feeling no pain and talking a mile a minute. Maggie was strangely quiet, not like her at all. I had a serious, serious pain in my belly."

I just watched Laura.

"The cab ride to Elona's apartment building took at least fifteen minutes, but felt like forever. In the end I was in absolute agony. I knew I had a serious diarrhea issue."

I chuckled. Laura wasn't smiling.

"We got out of the cab, I don't know who paid but I was doubled over, ready to explode. Maggie was white as a sheet. 'I think I'm going to be sick,' she stated flatly."

"In the ride up the lift, I started leaking out my bum. It was running down my tights."

"Oh dear," I said.

"The others knew that I was in agony and saw what was happening."

"Oh, that is embarrassing."

Laura glanced at me for a second and then continued. "Elona opened the door right away and pointed towards the loo. I ran holding my bum. In one motion I pulled my little black dress off, threw it on the floor, dropped my tights and thong and sat on the toilet."

I sighed.

"I more or less made it in time."

"A bit more info than what I needed, but okay."

"I had left the door open."

"Okay that's embarrassing."

Her grey eyes were cold watching me.

"You have to understand, I'm naked in this woman's apartment. The apartment of the woman I'm trying to impress, with my shit infused tights and thong wrapped around my ankles in a beautifully appointed pristine white room, with white marble floor tile, a little plush white carpet in front of the fancy shower unit, a Jacuzzi tub and all the fancy French crèmes and perfumes that you can only dream about, and I've got a massive load of liquid shit dripping off me, running down my legs and all over the toilet seat and wherever else I didn't quite make it down in time."

I sat in silence. I was trying not to laugh.

"Then Maggie screams and comes running into the loo, 'I'm gonna puke!' and before she has a chance to get to the pedestal lav, she projectile vomits her bile infused Pad Thai and several glasses of white wine all over me."

"Oh dear."

"It splashed off my face and tits."

"Oh."

"I was covered head to toe in shit and puke!"

I started giggling. Sadly.

"It gets worse, Elona showed up trying to figure out what's going on and slipped on the puke and shit covered marble floor. She hurt her tail bone."

I was trying not to laugh.

"All I could do was cry," she added.

"Ahh ha, ha!" I couldn't take it anymore. "I'm sorry; it is funny though."

"Well it certainly wasn't at the time. Needless to say, neither Maggie nor I ever saw Elona again."

I was laughing out loud.

She was, too.

It took a few more minutes and a few more sips of our beers to calm ourselves down again and to stop the angry stares from the other patrons.

"Okay, I've got one for you Laura," I said, "although it's more of a what-the-fuck shameful moment, rather than an embarrassing moment."

"Okay, go on then." There was a sparkle of anticipation in her grey eyes.

I took a deep breath, "It was the summer after I finished high school, and after drinking underage in bars for the last five years, I had finally reached the age of consent. And just like I had for several years, come Friday night, I met my pack of friends and tons of kids from my high school at one of several bars in downtown Toronto."

"No different than growing up in London."

"No, I'm sure it wasn't that much different."

"So for us, from my high school, it was a quick commute to the downtown core by subway, underground as you call it, party our brains out and then a twenty-five minute subway ride at the end of the night and stumble home afterwards."

"No different than London," she offered.

"Yonge Street in Toronto was the happening place at the time, and we'd find our friends, make new ones and go pick up chicks."

"Okay."

"This one particular bar was a rowdy German beer hall style club, complete with live brass ompah band, dance floor and long wooden tables of inebriated teenagers swilling big steins of beer and slurring the words, 'I'm Prosit,' not having a clue that the words are actually 'Ein Prosit,' I was just a typical idiot like the rest of them. You were a man if you could actually chug back the whole pitcher of beer in one go and then not puke it back up instantly."

"Same rules applied here."

"Then we would go outside, huddle together and smoke big chunks of black hash off the end of a cigarette and then go back inside and drink and dance some more."

"Ha ha ha!"

"Yup, Laura, I was young and stupid."

She was smiling sweetly.

"I woke up on one particular Saturday morning and I had no clue where I was, nor how I got there."

"Uh oh."

"My left arm was killing me, my head was pounding and I needed to piss really badly."

She was grinning.

"My arm hurt because it was pinned under a body. A fairly big one with tangled black hair."

"Oh no."

I lifted one hand into the air, "I know that the correct protocol is to simply chew off your arm, but I had no time for that. I desperately needed to pee."

"I think most people have regrettable mornings, just as you describe. It's called the walk of shame."

"Yes, I know but you have to hear me out."

"Okay, go on." She rested her chin on a bridge made by her fingers and appeared to be genuinely amused at what I was telling her.

"I started pulling my arm out. It woke up, rolled over and we both started screaming at each other."

"Why?" She was laughing, "It?"

"She was a cross between a human being and a manatee with the skin of an iguana. She was a long way from pretty."

"Oh, the poor thing."

"I jumped out of bed clutching my numb arm, 'Where's the bathroom?' I demanded as I came to the sudden realization that I was stark naked."

"Ha ha ha!"

"Flubber hung from the underside of her arm as she pointed to the hall. There was bona fide look of terror in her face."

Laura was clutching her sides.

"I dashed through the doorway and found the washroom across the hall. Sitting on the toilet and pissing, I attempted to put it all back together while trying to rub life back into my left arm."

She was shaking her head.

"I remembered the big ugly girl, she was one of about four or five that I'd met at the beer hall. I was trying to chat up her friend. I remembered chugging a pitcher, I remembered smoking black hash and cigarettes. I remembered dancing and drinking more and smoking more hash and dancing with the girls—and that was it—blank-o after that."

"Ohh..."

"I couldn't figure out why she was she screaming. I'm not, and wasn't then, a bad looking guy. I mean, what the hell?"

"As I wiped my ass I noticed my cock was off-colour. What the...? It was... it was... dried blood!"

"Oh no...ahh haa haa!"

"I quickly jumped off the toilet to wash it off in the sink and saw my reflec...'Aauughh!!!' I had a big red streak across my face from ear to ear, like an evil maniacal grin!"

"Oh gross... ah ha haa!" She was snorting clutching her sides.

"In a mad craze I frantically washed my face and cock in denial, hoping that the menstrual blood and everything else would just get washed away including the beast in the other room, any diseases, pregnancies, and the harsh reality of what had to have transpired."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Then I practically deep throated her cold water tap. My head was pounding. I was physically ill. None of it could be real! Please God, I said, just make it all go away."

She was slapping the table. The other patrons were grimacing again.

"I was naked, trembling in someone else's bathroom. I wanted to cry."