A Reason To Wake Up Pt 05

I beat Anne to the doctor's office. I was a good thirty minutes early. I had rushed out of my old lovers house and scurried to make it in time. The few minutes I had to myself before my wife arrived allowed me to sort through all of the messages, missed phone calls and emails that had been piling up all morning. As expected the majority of the text messages were from my girlfriend. The young woman who had so suddenly stepped into my life bringing me out of the stupor that I had found myself in for months, maybe years, had been texting me all morning and along with notes about how desperate she was to see me and how much better she was feeling she had sent a string of texts of her in various states of undress. I cowered in the corner of the waiting room grinning stupidly at the pictures of her breasts, ass, and other far more personal parts of her anatomy. I took the time to text her a semi colon and a parenthesis. I knew the phone would make a smiley face on its own but I refused to use them. The other texts and missed calls were from my wife and when I finally got to them she was certain I was going to blow off the doctors appointment and she had threatened to pick me up at my office if that was necessary. At the very least I now knew where she was. Explaining why I hadn't been in the office that morning would come later. Maybe I would get some horrific diagnosis that would distract her.

I had a voice message from a client. I could call him back. The last voicemail was the one that scared me. The number was in my contacts so I had the benefit of knowing whom it was from although I struggled to think of it as any sort of benefit. I put off listening to it as long as possible but when Anne still wasn't there and I hadn't been called back to an examination room I pressed play and held the phone to my ear.

The words were plain enough; there was nothing outrageous to Martin's request. He only had three for golf on Saturday and needed a fourth. For as long as I had known him he had played a round of golf on Saturday at Nine in the morning. The club held the T-time for him and even was known to slip him off the first Tee in the middle of a tournament. The few times they couldn't accommodate him, the Junior State Tournament for instance, they made arrangements at another club and even would pick up his fees. As I said, I knew he played every Saturday morning and had at one time taken full advantage of this by using this time to slip off and sleep with his wife. Never had he ever invited me to join. It was not the uniqueness of the invitation that left me sitting in the stiff wooden chair sweating though, it was the cold-blooded tone in his voice. Although the words were routine in nature I felt a threat in the emphasis, the cadence, and the slow way he allowed each word to move slowly out of his mouth across the line or through he satellite or wherever it had gone until they were recorded. I felt a deliberate intent to intimidate. I also was not a particularly good golfer.

I would decline.

I stood from where I sat and walked to the door and peered out across the parking lot. Anne was not approaching and it gave me a minute. I called Sally. Unlike his daughter, I expected his wife to answer.

"Hello?" she said in an unfamiliar singsong voice.

"Hey."

"Yes." Her answer was curious but she sounded confused.

"It's me."

"I'm sorry?"

"David."

"David, what number is this?"

"My cell phone."

"No it isn't."

"Yes. Same number as always. Save it."

"What number do I have in my phone?"

Frustrated I had to push on. "Have you talked to Marty?"

"Not this morning, well, not since..."

"He called me."

"What?"

"He asked me to golf." Across the parking lot I saw Anne's weird little silver sport utility pull into the lot.

"Oh shit."

"It's nothing, right?"

"David." She sounded more scared than I was.

"I've got to go."

"David. Don't. Shit."

"Sal'. Don't worry. I'll call you later."

"No don't"

"I have to go."

"Meet me. Four O'clock."

"Where."

"The gym."

"The old spot."

"Yes."

I heard the tone that phones make now when the connection is lost. I pressed the button with my thumb that locks the screen. I shoved it into my pocket and ass Anne closed the distance between us until she stood inches away I leaned down to kiss her.

"Where have you been?"

"Here." I said.

"All morning."

"Come on." I reached behind me and pulled the heavy glass door open and we stepped inside. I was saved from further explanation by the short black woman in scrubs who was standing holding the door and looking at me with an irritated expression that came from causing her to wait. We stepped in the door to the back of the office, Anne was pointed to the large number four that hung over the door at the end of the hall and I was pushed back into a corner. At six foot one and a half I was half an inch shorter than I had been. At one hundred and ninety five pounds I had only gained five pounds in five years. I smiled. She didn't. My pulse was one twenty two but my blood pressure was okay. I was pretty proud of myself. The woman simply scowled. I was pointed back to room four to wait.

Anne was put into a fit by my pulse and I assured her it was just a stressful morning and too much coffee. It didn't put her at ease. When Dr. Lewendowski looked at the paper in the office fifteen minutes later he figured it was an error and instead took his own reading. The scowl across his face told the story. I sat quietly as he poked and prodded and looked in my ears and down my throat. I removed my shirt when he told me to and Anne finally stopped talking to him as he listened to my heart and lungs.

I had a sudden appreciation for what it must be like to be that eight-year-old sitting in the doctor's office as your mother and the doctor pretend to include you in the discussion. I sat excluded as they discussed my lack of energy, snoring, restlessness in bed, lack of sex drive, constant intestinal distress, daily alcohol consumption, propensity to sneak off and smoke cigarettes, bad back, and general grumpiness. I tried to speak up once or twice but anything I said was discounted. I think the mechanic at the Jaguar dealer pays more attention to my XJ6 when I check it in than Dr. Lew did as I sat being graded and judged.

They did let me answer for myself regarding my last bowel movement, the last time I had taken a leak and the last time I had ejaculated. I briefly considered answering that last one honestly just to see if anyone was paying attention but instead said it was last weekend. At least I didn't have to go back half a year. I ignored the skeptical look on the Doctor's face and let him whisk me out of the room shirtless to take my EKG. He left Anne behind. The room was small, he said.

Seated in a wide long room littered with medical equipment and enough chairs to host a cribbage tournament I let him place the cold metal pads onto my chest. They stuck to my chest hair. It wasn't comfortable. As he laid me back he asked me again his rather intimate and I figured inappropriate question. "Do you want to revise your last answer?" he asked.

"Okay, they aren't just cold, they are damn cold." I said referring to his question about the electrodes or whatever they were he had stuck to me.

"Not that one."

"Oh, well, I don't know."

"I just checked you for a hernia. I thought I was doing a pap smear."

"What?"

"You, my friend, smell of vagina."

"It was a busy morning." I said. I didn't mean to seem proud of myself but I think that's how it sounded.

"Wear a condom." He said. I had no response. "Breathe steadily." He said. The small machine, ancient I thought as I watched an actual piece of paper feed out of the front of it, began to measure just how long I had till the big one.

"I don't really want to give you Viagra." He said scowling at the piece of paper.

"That was her idea." I responded.

"It doesn't sound like you are having issues."

"Just give me the script. I'll pretend I'm taking it."

"Maybe, how much coffee did you have this morning?"

"Too much."

"If you died in the parking lot I wouldn't be surprised."

"Thanks."

"Don't go camping in the back woods." He gave me another un-approving look and then sent me back to Anne to wait.

We sat in silence as blood was drawn and then I was sent off to provide a urine sample. It was all basically routine but felt horribly embarrassing to go through it with Anne right there. When I was dressed again we sat a while longer until he slipped back in. He scribbled in a folder as we waited. Dr. Lew had at least ten years on me, maybe more. He hadn't gone to computers yet, at least not for what he did. I tried to read what he wrote. There was no reason.

"Anne, here you go." He said finally. I was again an outsider, a third party watching from the outside. "Don't give him one if he's been drinking. Watch him closely after he takes it."

"I will." She said. She glared at me. I had let her down. "It's his pulse rate."

"Among other things. And here is a referral."

"Heart specialist?"

"Couples therapist. Viagra just makes it work. It doesn't make him want it. Go see Helen. She's good."

I got to glare now. I knew better than to look at Anne that way so I stared with a vengeance at Dr. Lew. "Thank you." I almost sneered.

I walked her to her car and sent her on her way. She said she would make an appointment with the therapist and then quite out of character asked her if I was okay. I told her I was fine. This was all her idea anyway. She kissed me delicately on the cheek.

Nestled back into the old car I loved I talked to the English beauty for a bit before we drove off. I challenged her to outlive me. When the motor growled to a start I realized the safe money was on the car. I headed for work to hide out the rest of the day. The office would be safe I figured. I wasn't sleeping with any of the women there nor any of the men's wives. It was probably the best place for me to be at the moment. There was also security in place; you needed a badge to get in. I hid in my office and pretended to be productive until it was time to meet Sally. I probably should have just stayed.

I escaped the office early without saying a word, no one seemed to be looking for my anymore. I resolved to work a full day the next day, forgetting of course that it was a Friday and that I would probably leave after lunch. I had long ago let my gym membership lapse and it was well after four when I had finally convinced them to just let me buy a one day pass rather then work out for free if I met with a membership coordinator. No one seemed to notice I had no gym bag and was in shirt and tie until I wouldn't take the tour. I shrugged off the question and scurried for the locker room.

Between the men's and women's locker room sat three rooms that used to hold tanning beds and now sat empty. There was also a steam room and I slipped out of my clothes, wrapped myself in a towel that was four inches too short and struggled to keep myself covered as I pressed on the large wooden door and slipped into the hot, wet, oppressive fog. I didn't see anyone when I entered but I wouldn't have, even if there were an orgy of hot oiled gym rats screwing on the wooden benches.

"That you?" I heard her ask. I moved to the far corner where I found her drenched in sweat, her towel wrapped around her waist. In the old days I would have begun immediately to run my hands over her slick sweat soaked body. Today I just sat beside her. I left it to her to lean in and kiss me.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Have you heard of Anthony Scarpelli?" she asked. I told her no and she told me the short version of what I was sure was a much longer story. I would Google him later and be sorry I did.

The moral of the story was that I needed to not play golf with him on Saturday. I said what could he possibly do on a golf course. I was concerned, to be sure, and I would be looking over my shoulder for a good long while but I didn't imagine it would happen on the golf course. "How does he cover up me getting whacked on the golf course?" I meant it to be funny.

"Accidents happen. Golf balls hit trees and people fall out of golf carts and forty five year old men have heart attacks on golf courses every day." she said.

"You're sure he knows."

"I texted you all week. The number isn't yours. You didn't get any of them."

"Could just be an accident."

"I found a camera."

"What?"

"A security camera. It's like as big as a dime. It's tiny."

"Sally."

"Lets go somewhere." She said. "Mexico. He would never go to Mexico to look for us. If I don't take anything he won't even look for me."

"Sally, that's crazy." I said. My mind however was thinking of Playa del Carmen. I could finish my Dive Master Certification. DJ would need to get a scholarship but he could visit at spring break every year.

"I have to go. Kiss me," she said. I did what she asked. I touched her only so far as to place my hand on her slick arm but it was enough to make me want more. She hurried from the room. I showered, dressed and moved on to my net appointment. It was a stress free meeting at Sir Henry's Olde Time Pub. It was the type of place that ran soccer matches 24 hours a day, served Sheppard's pie and fish and chips and you could get your clock cleaned for calling it Irish. I was meeting my younger Brother. Jack was taking his wife north for their fifth anniversary. My mom was watching their kids. He wanted to borrow the Jaguar. I didn't mind. I thought I would get some plants for the yard or something having his old Chevy pick-up for the weekend.

I watched for a tail. I don't know why but I was particularly paranoid about Cadillacs and even got off the freeway when I saw the same silver Escalade for the third time on the freeway home. There were no gangsters, mobsters, thugs or bikers at Sir Henrys, just a bald rugby player or two. It was good to see Jack. He only wanted to have one beer. He was driving out that night. I thanked him for being considerate of the old girl and warned him to watch the temperature gauge going uphill. I hugged my brother, swallowed down a second Guinness and told myself the kid in the wife beater with the stupid looking Yankees cap with a straight bill was Mexican.

As home Anne served me a glass of wine and cheese on the patio. She wore my favorite sundress without a bra and I stared at her breasts. We laughed from time to time even. For dinner we had Chicken Masala and another bottle of wine and it may not have matched my mothers but she did a nice job of it. For desert I got a tall glass of water, a blue bill, and a slice of cheesecake. I had to beg for another glass of the red blend from Oregon but she relented. She bitched about the constant vibrating of my phone so I held the power button long enough that it turned off. Three glasses of wine, a slight headache, a cold sweat, and a hard-on so firm it ached was enough of a distraction to ignore four missed calls from an unknown number.

"Do you feel it?" she asked. She reached beneath the dinette table to place her hand on the front of my pants. "Oh!"

"Yeah. Oh!" I said.

"Let me help you with that." She said.

The walk to our bedroom gave me the first hint that something was different. I am not going to say that I needed the little blue pill and according to Dr. Lew I had the smallest dose available but I could feel its effects as my cock, as if someone had dialed back the clock to when I was fifteen and having to hide erections that came on unexpected in the middle of the day, tented my boxers and trousers as if I had stuffed a screwdriver in my pocket. There was an inkling of pain and I felt the lack of blood in my brain, as I grew dizzy walking up the stairs to our master bedroom. The rest of my excitement I knew didn't come from the pill but perhaps from the wine because I couldn't resist my wife. Her ass, as I followed her begged for attention and when she reached the room and turned I attacked her, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her in a way I hadn't in fifteen years.

"Wow." She said when she pushed me away.

She had only stepped back a foot but it was too far and I closed the distance. We did the maneuver again with her stepping back and me stepping forward. Her arms, extended in front of her against my chest meant that now, as I stepped forward she was pushed back until we had closed in on the bed. She collapsed back. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and pulled loose my shirt. She reached behind her neck, untied the halter-top of her dress and released her breasts. I had to have them. I needed her. Dr. Lew had said I wouldn't feel increased desire but he apparently had no idea what he was talking about because I had to have her. I shed my pants and then was forced to fight off the tangle that my shoes and pants became around my feet. I struggled free of them and looked down at my eighteen year old woody and then over at my wife, prone, smiling broadly.

My heart raced as we made love. She gripped me and moaned and sighed and I felt as if I needed to go faster and deeper and the faster and deeper I went the more I better and faster I needed to go. My heart pounded in my chest to the point I felt tightness and the beginning of pain in my pectorals, biceps and the small of my back. Harder and faster I struggled.

"Come for me." she begged. And I heard her as if she was in another room. She was distant, the sound was hollow. I didn't care. I needed to be inside of her.

"Wait. Stop." She said. I couldn't. I don't know why. I was confused. I had been confused for two weeks. I had felt alive, I had felt need and want and desire again but not like this. I understood junkies and their mind-altering quest for a fix. Being inside of Anna Maria was my fix and I wasn't going to get enough. Coming wouldn't be enough. I buried my face in her chest; her large soft breast devouring my face and that too wasn't enough. God, how long was this going to go on? I was going to call the doctor well before the four-hour warning.

"From behind. Stop. Do me from behind." she said. At least that's what I thought she said, my ears were ringing. I let go of her. She rolled over and backed up towards me and I heard the beeping of a truck in reverse. Fuck, look at that dick! I thought to myself looking down. I never recall it so long, so thick. It wasn't mine. I slipped it into her from behind and slapped her ass and hated that I couldn't see her tits anymore. I pulled her hair the way she liked and I fucked her. Longer and harder. My hips slapped against her ass. I couldn't stop I pulled her up by gripping her ribs until I could get both hands around her and held her tits, fuck I love those tits. More and deeper I thought. More, faster I told myself.

She pulled my hands away. I saw her, a small circle of clarity in a swirling blackness.

"No more." She said.

"Yes. More. Please. It was your idea."

"Fine. Go soft." She begged. It didn't matter. I couldn't hear her and I wasn't going to listen to her. I collapsed on top of her. She did her best to take it. She grunted beneath the sweat mess of man out of control that couldn't stop fucking. "Come baby. Come. Go until you come. Go harder. Do me harder." She was whispering. It hurt. Not my dick, my dick was fine, it was everything else. It was my head and my chest and the swirling blackness around me. My back felt as if I knife plunged into me with every thrust. I was close, just a little more, just a little faster.

I can't say that I recall coming. I think I did but I don't think I felt it. I know I stopped. I remember clearly groaning, my head falling down, as the muscles in my back no longer could hold it up. It was dark, very dark, darker than our bedroom ever got. She must have covered the digital clocks or maybe I had when I tossed my shirt aside or maybe it was the blindness the bottle had warned about. I was supposed to call the doctor right away.