Sleep Over

Last night I went to Lynn’s house for dinner. Jim was away on a business trip again and I really wanted to be with her.

I brought over some brie cheese and Italian bread and made grilled cheese sandwiches (and we're NOT talkin' Wonder bread and Velveeta). Slap some french brie between a couple slices of good crusty Italian bread. Brush the outsides with a really good olive oil and grill until golden brown and delicious on the outside and gooey and cheesy on the inside. Grilled brie cheese sammies are such wonderful comfort food. Yes, I probably will die early from a heart attack – but what good is a long life if you can’t have any grilled brie cheese sandwiches? We washed them down with a couple of bottles of Mumm’s Napa sparkling brut. There something wonderful about drinking champagne with fatty foods, the bubbles and crispness cuts through the grease. If you've never tried it - french fries and champagne - awesome combination.

With our food and drink we sat in front of the fireplace and talked about life and love.

“So why do people need to hear ‘I love you’” I asked.

“Oh, that’s easy” she replied quickly. “Because they don’t feel it. If you feel loved you don’t need to hear anything. And, if you don’t feel anything nothing that can be said can make up for it.”

“Did you ever say it and not mean it?”

“I love my house, I love my family, I love my cats” She frowned a bit “If one of my cats gets run over by a car – I get a new one, no problem.”

“That’s cynical.”

“Oh get real. If someone needs to hear something, what’s the harm in telling them? Like I said it doesn’t change anything. If they don’t feel love saying something doesn’t help them.”

“Isn’t it leading them on?”

“They want to be led on.” She said. “It gives them something to hold onto. It gives them hope.” She paused. “Sometimes hope is enough. Didn’t you ever say ‘I love you’ just to get laid?”

“No. There was only one girl that needed that and I couldn’t lead her on.”

“Let’s see, you were getting laid before this. And after?”

“Nope.”

‘What a waste, she just needed to hear it. It’s not a promise, it’s not a commitment, they’re just words.” She took a long sip of champagne. “If a guy needs to hear it, I tell him. You do more harm in denying it.”

“What happens when it ends?”

“It ends. The ends are always bad – that’s why it ends. You can’t change that. Tell them what they need to hear and get on with it.”

“Anything for a good lay?”

“I don’t have your catholic hang-ups.”

“Our Lady of perpetual guilt – the gift that keeps on giving”

It was getting late and I cleaned up and put out the embers of the fire. We walked down the hall toward the bedrooms. We stopped in front of the guest bed room (where I usually sleep). I leaned forward to her. She tilted her head up toward me. I kissed her.

She kissed back. I swear I could feel some tongue.

I leaned back and looked at her. “Where is this going?” I asked

“What ‘this’?”

“Um, the kiss, us, are we…?”

She looked away and sighed heavily. “Oh, Rich.” She sighed again. “We can’t. I’m not leaving Jim, and I’m not going to cheat on him”

Oh. Crap.

I’m sure she saw the disappointment on my face. “So… I thought… the kiss… what…?” Yeah, I’m a great conversationalist.

“Rich, you kissed me.” She's right. I've been instigating all this.

“And you kissed back.”

“Yeah, Rich. I did. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have any feelings for you. But…” And then I got the “You’re a great guy” speech. I’ll spare you. You’ve either given it or been on the receiving end of it (or you’re only 16 – go get some more life experience).

Another time… Different circumstances… If only… blah blah blah...

After her speech I took one more kiss – god she tastes delicious.
And said goodnight.
And went to the guest room.
And she went to the master bedroom.
And closed the door.