This work of adult fiction, loosely based on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe, includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned.  No copyright infringement on the original work is intended.  © Diana Walker 2006.
 
 
Author's Note:  Original Sin is one of Elton John’s lesser known works.  I first heard it in a supermarket parking lot at Christmas, 2002.  The music is dark, moody, and completely sensuous.  For me, it is one of those songs you NEED to hear over and over.  Reading the lyrics does not do the song justice.  The track is from Songs from the West Coast (2001).  Click here to listen.   Diana

DIANA
He’s so frustrating that he makes me want to SCREAM!  Not even my Rodney Yee relaxation DVD is working.  I take that back.  My Rodney Yee relaxation DVD might work if I took any time to practice with it.  Hovering without looking like you are is tough work, both mentally and physically.  Gretchen has repeatedly warned him about not overdoing it; now that he has the cast, her warnings fall on deaf ears.  I feel like drawing a Superman logo on it, but he won't hold still long enough.
 
In Cyprus I had such plans for our time together while Terry recuperated.  I had envisioned long, leisurely talks.  The reality is that the physical act of living is sapping the life and humor from both of us, and we barely talk to exchange information.  He’s no longer careful with my feelings.  I'm having flashbacks to caring for my father in his later life; I had to hold my silence when he was having a bad day.  At those times, every error I’d made since the age of five was dragged from the closet and trotted out for reinspection and correction.   If you took my father’s word for the landscape of my life, I’ve never done anything right.  Terry hasn't done that yet, but his general bad mood is grating on my last nerve, and my tongue is about bitten through from not responding to his curt comments.   
 
Terry gets crankier every day.  He can barely wait to get back to the office; frankly, I’m looking forward to his foray into the business world as well, though it won’t be today.  We both had the best of intentions to get him there, but getting him dressed and out the door took too much out of him.  The simple act of dressing has details neither of us considered …you don’t think about them when you’re healthy.
 
I had the wrong kind of plastic bag to cover his cast for his shower; I mean, I didn't dump the garbage out of it and hand him the used bag with lettuce still in it, but it was a trash bag with ties at the top; he didn’t like that.  Once that obstacle was overcome - with the attendant sniping - the shower wasn’t a problem; we've gotten quite adept at that.  I only hope ‘a couple shower’ romance comes back once he’s back on both legs. 
 
Shaving presented a completely different set of problems.  I barely remember the days of being perched on the vanity, enjoying a chat, watching him lather up, and carefully scraping his face.  An electric shaver doesn’t have the same romance.  When discussing the shaving option, growing a beard was out of the question.  God help me, I enjoyed the look of fear in his eyes when I offered to shave him.  Standing and shaving with his safety razor took too long and was too tiring, and the logistics of a chair in our bathroom, a bowl rather than the sink, and a source of running water were beyond my abilities.  He’d opted for an electric razor and shaved sitting on the side of the bed.  Of course, I bought the wrong shaver the first time.  The electronics on this one are so complicated that it has an 11-page owner's manual.  I thought only cars had instructions this detailed.
 
We had a discussion about what he wanted to wear; trackies were no longer good enough.  With the added bulk of the cast, his long running pants were too tight.  I didn't even bother kidding him about constrained bits.  We agreed shorts are not proper office wear, but his fear was that with a furless leg, the other boys would laugh at him.  I reminded him that because of the cast, no one could see his neatly shaved leg …not even me.  Suit pants would give him room around the cast; he ignored my request for the heather brown ones and dragged out the grey flannel.  His insistence that he could get his pants on by himself, balancing on his crutches, was met by my skeptical look.  I hovered near by since his crutch doesn’t have sensors to know when to adjust slightly to support the change in his equilibrium as a human can – that human being me.  I ignored the frustrated wetness clinging to his lashes when he gestured for me to help him – not because of heartlessness, but both of us didn't need to be crying.
 
I had asked Dino to meet us downstairs at the office around 10 AM, our targeted arrival time.  He was to be outside having a smoke as a pretext to walk with Terry to the elevators.  At 10:30, Terry volunteered that today was a good dry run, but the office was not in the cards.
 
Once Terry was back in winter sweats – pants and shirt – I put in a call to Dino.  “We won't make it today, Dino.  We'll rearrange how we do things and try again tomorrow.  One of us will call from the car so we don't waste any more of your time.”
 
“I'm sorry, Beautiful.  Anything you want me to do?”
 
“Pray.”
 
 
SOOZE
As soon as I heard that Terry was on crutches with a cast, I sent the Persian rugs out to be cleaned and told them to take their time.  The one cleaner in Dallas who specializes in Persians was so backed up he wouldn't even touch ours for two weeks and could hold them for another two.  Out of sight, out of mind, and Terry would be none the wiser.
 
“Thorne, Espan, and O'Reilly.”
 
“Sooze, how ya going?”  Terry sounded like he didn't have a care in the world.
 
I hit Dino's intercom button and conferenced him into the call.
 
“Good, Terry.  How are you?”
 
“On my way in.  Thought I'd give you some warning so you could get my desk cleared.”
 
Dino waved as he passed my desk to the door.  I tossed him the pack of cigarettes and lighter so he could keep his cover and continued talking to Terry. 
 
“I'll give you five letters to sign today.  I don't think you'll mind that I called our biggest client a wanker, will you?”  That should keep him busy scrutinizing what he’s signing.
 
“See you in five.”
 
 
Dinner conversation that night centered on Terry's return to work – all 30 minutes of it.  Dino walked, Terry hobbled, and Dee timed her arrival for five minutes after theirs.  I know this because she poked her head in the door to ask if they had arrived yet.  When I said they hadn't, we arranged for her to wait down the hall in the pharmaceutical rep's office until the gruesome twosome arrived. 
 
“Why'd she do that, Mom?”  Ah, a chance to teach my lovely daughter some loving, feminine wiles.
 
“Dee loves Terry and wants him to have his pride.  She doesn't want him to be reminded that he’s slow and needs a LOT of help.  Men like Terry and your father need to DO things.  They become frustrated when they can't.  Dee’s working behind the scenes to let Terry DO the things he’s accustomed to doing in as independent a way as she can while protecting him from himself.  It's a difficult balancing act.” 
 
Dolores had been saying for weeks that as it’s summer, she’d come into the office and have lunch with me; I believe tomorrow will be the day.  She’s much too smart to tell me now that tomorrow’s the day.  She'll casually mention it tomorrow morning thinking I won't connect my boss's return and her long awaited lunch date.  What can I say?  I did the same thing to my mom.  I underestimated how much my mom understood just as Dolores underestimates me.  Why do all kids think their moms are dried up, old hags with no sense of how the world works?
 
In the absence of Dolores’ father, I could ask for no better male role models for my daughter.  Dino is the fun-loving, older brother who would certainly be sure to handle any schoolyard bullies for her.  Dolores sees Max as the stern father figure, and he functions well in that role.  Terry is her first crush.  If Dee hasn't talked to him yet, I'll need to because whether he’s noticed the crush or not, the words of caution must be said.
 
 
I've gotten to know Dee a lot better since Terry's return to the office.  Until he’s totally off the pain meds, she is his chauffeur.  All of North Texas appreciates her sacrifice.  Technically, he can drive now that his cast is on; from a practical standpoint, it is not a good idea.  Terry's lead foot combined with his reduced reaction times, the normal bumper cars on Central, his lowered frustration level led to her decision to drive him; he grudgingly agreed.  His altruistic nature took precedence over his need for independence.
 
Her sacrifices for him are willing, but the effort is taking a toll on both of them.  Dino goes down each day about 10 AM for a smoke and fends off traffic while Terry gets out of the truck, takes the laptop from Dee, walks Terry to the elevators, rides up with him telling him what is going on with the business.  Dee stops a little further from the front doors each day before parking in the garage across the street, forcing Terry to walk a bit farther each time.  Soon, Terry and she should be able to walk in together from the parking garage across the street.  It's a good thing we haven't had an emergency in the building; it would take both Dino and Max to get Terry down 45 floors if the elevators weren't working.  Dino remarked the other day that he had told Terry the same piece of financial information twice already, and Terry asked again; Dino does NOT have the patience Dee does.
 
Dee comes in quietly to allow the office to run normally, checks the conference room, and, if it’s free, settles in on one of the couches with a book.  She’s normally asleep within five minutes.  Dino had some clients in the other day; he’d intended on using the conference room.  She looked so peaceful in there when I checked to be sure meeting supplies were laid out on the table that I called Dino to see her.  He can be such a good guy when he wants to be.  She was slouched against the arm of the couch with a bend in her neck.  He straightened her neck, put her feet on the seat, and left quietly.  We grabbed a couple of chairs from Max’s office, and Dino held his meeting in his own office.  Dino's Columbian clients were leaving when Dee woke, and she was mortified.  She hasn't fallen asleep at the office since.
 
 
REAGAN
I’d promised Dee that I’d be at the house by ten that morning, having stopped at the supermarket with her shopping list on the way.  She runs over to Central Market and to the Farmer's Market for dinner ingredients during Terry’s two-to-three hour office visits, but a long-term replenishment of the pantry was in order.  After pinging her for almost a week, she’d finally given over and e-mailed me her shopping list the night before since Terry wasn't going into the office today.  I pulled into the drive and got out of the car; I needed to get her to unlock the door before I started lugging grocery bags up the porch steps.  Yes, I have keys, but one just doesn’t go barging into others’ homes when they’re in residence.  I knocked on the door and waited; her shouted response surprised me.
 
“It’s open, come on in.”  Since Terry moved in, Dee never leaves her doors unlocked; it was a compromise they’d made – she didn't have to install an alarm system, but the doors stayed locked.  That the door was unlocked was sufficient to tell me something unusual was in play.  I walked in to be greeted by the sound of cookware being thrown about in the kitchen.  Peeking carefully round the wall between the entry hall and the kitchen in case I needed to duck a flying pan or crockery, I saw her standing at the stove, and she slammed a pot onto the surface.
 
“Glad that wasn’t Corning Ware.  If it was, we’d be picking up the pieces for two hours.”  She turned to look at me, the two-quart saucepan still in her hand, and blinked rapidly before she spoke.  She was fighting back tears; that’s the only time she blinks like that.  Okay, best to find another topic of conversation. 
 
“Where’s Terry?”  She put the pan on the island and looked up at me.
 
“I don’t fucking know, and I don’t fucking care.”  Well.  So much for selecting a topic that would get her mind off whatever had upset her.  Clearly, it was Terry who had managed that little feat.  I looked into the lounge …he wasn’t there.  I walked to their bedroom, and he wasn’t there either …not on the bed, nor on the banana nose where Diana sleeps to keep from jostling his leg.  Down the hall to the guest room at the other end of the house and checked there – no Terry.  Back to the kitchen and checked the mud room …nothing.  Terry wasn’t in the house, and that wasn’t good.  I double-checked the bathroom off their bedroom just to be sure he wasn’t in there hiding from her …not a sign.  On my way out of their bedroom, I looked out the French door to the west end of the property.  One Terrence Steven Thorne was making his way across the open paddock, heading for the barn as fast as his crutches would carry him.  I walked back to the kitchen to find Dee exactly where I’d left her, but she had the pot in her hand again.  I was wondering if I should run or just duck behind the island.
 
“It seems that Terry’s heading for the barn.  Is that on his list of approved activities for this point in his recovery?”  She whirled round to look out the window over the sink, then threw the pot to the floor with all the strength in her right arm. 
 
“Son of a BITCH!”
 
The pot hit the floor and bounced …right up and cracked her hard on the shin.  That was all it took for the floodgates to open, and she burst into tears.  Now let me say something right here and now …I’ve known Diana Lynn Walker for a number of years, and this was the first time I’d ever seen her actually cry.  She just sat there on the floor and wailed as I dragged up a piece of the floor and sat beside her, pulling her head onto my shoulder.
 
“You want to tell me what this is all about, or were you planning to make me guess?”  She raised her head from my shoulder and looked at me with swimming eyes.
 
“He’s driving me fucking crazy, Reags.”
 
“In how many ways?”
 
“He hates being limited in his movement.  He hates the loss of his independence.  He hates being confined to around the house or office; even with the crutches he can only walk out to the mail box.  He hated that fucking walker, and he hates the crutches almost as much.  This morning, I think he even hates me.  I think the only reason he's still here is because he can't do everything for himself; he'd leave if he could.”  I stood and held out one hand to her, pulling her to her feet before propelling her to the kitchen bar and shoving her unceremoniously into one of the tall captain's chairs.  Pulling my cell from my belt, I hit the speed dial number for Maximus’ private line at the office.
 
“Max Espan.”
 
“It’s me, Caro.  How busy are you today?”
 
“I have nothing particularly pressing …is something wrong?”
 
“Can you possibly leave the office with Dino and Sooze and come out to Dee and Terry’s before we have a murder and suicide on our hands?  Even though I’m exceptionally good at it, you know how I hate dealing with small town law enforcement authorities.”  He got that reference in a heartbeat.
 
“I will be there shortly.” 
 
Dee looked at me.  “I really wish you hadn’t done that.  Terry will hate me even more.”
 
“Tough shit.  Obviously, you two aren’t communicating, and as much as anything, that’s likely a result of Terry’s frustration with not being around another man outside the office just now.  Let Maximus deal with him the rest of the day.  Go shower and get dressed in something other than the Technicolour Wonder.  We’re leaving as soon as Maximus gets here.” 
 
She sat up straight and looked at me.  “Where are we going?”
 
“Don’t know yet, but it will be at least 20 miles from Terry.  Will that do you until we get there?”  She grinned and took off for the shower.  Half-an-hour later Maximus pulled into the drive, and I met him at the door.
 
“Dee and Terry are driving each other round the twist.  You’re baby-sitting him for the rest of the day.  I’m taking Dee somewhere – don’t ask where, because at this point, I don’t know.  We’ll bring dinner for the four of us when we return.”  He smiled and stripped off his coat and tie, unbuttoned the two top buttons of his dress shirt, and rolled up his sleeves before speaking.
 
“Where is he at this moment?”  I pointed out the floor-to-ceiling, lounge windows toward the barn where one solitary figure stood looking off toward the far paddock.  He’d been standing there for upwards of 45 minutes and had to be tired.  “I see ...and what would you have me do with him?”
 
“Don’t care in the slightest.  Just entertain him for the afternoon.  Check FOX Sports.  There’s bound to be a rugby match somewhere, and you both like rugby.  Failing that, put in a tape of one of last season’s games.  Take him for a drive; you’re big enough to get him in and out of Dee’s Tahoe without help.  Tie him to the couch; put his goolies in a vise …as I said, I don’t care.  I just want him in a better frame of mind when I get back with Dee, and if half-castrating him will do the trick, go for it.”  Maximus shook his head and laughed.
 
“I will do my best to attain your goal without depriving Terry of his manhood.”  He reached into his hip pocket and pulled out his wallet, starting to take out his TEO AmEx card.  I pulled my chequebook out of my pocket and tugged my own TEO AmEx card from the window behind my driving licence, and he returned his own wallet to his pocket before speaking again.
 
“See that whatever you do costs the firm significantly.  When Dino gets the statement, I will advise him as to the reason for the charges.  His words to Terry will likely preclude a return to this attitude.”  Inspiration hit me, and I pulled my cell out and dialled a number from memory.  Dee walked back into the room just as I snapped the phone closed and grinned at Maximus.  She was dressed in khaki slacks and a blue, Brooks Brothers' button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.  She had on make-up; she’d dried her hair. 
 
“I took a bubble-bath and sat in it for 15 minutes!  I even put on fucking make-up and styled my hair!  Where are we going?”  Both Maximus and I returned her smile.
 
“Do you really care, as long as it’s out of this house for a while?”
 
“Not in the slightest.”  Maximus was starting out the back door toward Terry as Dee and I started out the front, and she turned to deliver her parting shot.
 
“Max?  If he gets too pissy, the electric cattle prod I took away from the kids down the road is in the tack room ….”
 
Maximus laughed aloud, and Dee and I giggled all the way to my car.  The mental image evoked by that comment was priceless.
 
 
MAXIMUS
Terry was standing just outside the barn’s open door, leaning heavily on his crutches as I approached.  I deliberately stepped on a stick on the ground by way of announcing my arrival.  He heard the snap and turned to look at me, before returning his gaze to the horses dozing in the shade of the trees in the distance.
 
“I had to come all the way out here for a bit of peace.  Okie's on Diana's side; Holly's frightened of all the tension.  Not even the horses want anything to do with me, or Diana has given them orders as well.  I take it you’ve come to sort me out.”
 
“Not at all.  I have come to give you respite from the termagant known as Diana.”
 
“Did she call you?”
 
“No …Cassandra arrived earlier and found Diana slamming pots about the kitchen.  She came to the conclusion that the two of you require a day not spent in the company of each other.  I have nothing on my agenda today that cannot wait.”
 
“Where are they going?”
 
“I have no idea; however, I suspect it will cost you dearly.”  I did not deem it appropriate to mention that whatever expenses were incurred this day would ultimately be dealt with by Dino.  He turned to face me.
 
“Could you help me back to the house, Mate?  This little display of temper on my part has me knackered.”  It took us most of ten minutes to traverse the distance from the barn to the house.
 
 
“Is there anything on the television you wish to watch?”  He shook his head.  “Have you had your lunch?”  Another negative gesture.  I rose and walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, peering inside.  There were a few containers of the sort used by Cassandra to store food remaining at the conclusion of a meal; I removed those and placed them on the counter to check their contents.  I gave Terry an opportunity to choose.
 
“The refrigerator contains spaghetti, roasted chicken, and egg foo yung.  Do any of those strike your fancy?”  He looked at me from his position on the couch, shaking his head and sighing.  I returned them to the refrigerator and turned back to him.  “Where are the keys to Diana’s truck?”
 
“On the computer desk.  Why?”
 
“I believe an outing will do as much good for you as for Diana.  Let me get the truck open, and we will be off to lunch.”  He shook his head in the manner of a stubborn child.
 
“Not interested.”  I walked across the room and stood in front of him.
 
“I am not giving you a choice, Terry, and I am capable of physically carrying you, should you not come along of your own volition.”  Two weeks earlier I would not have made that threat for fear of injuring his leg further, but the cast had gone on his leg ten days past.  He used the walker and his crutches alternately about the house and office, and I handed him the crutches that were now leaning against the couch.  “Come along.”  He got to his feet, though clearly with reluctance, followed me to the door and out to the porch.  I locked the house, and Terry followed me to the truck, waiting as I unlocked the passenger door and assisted him into the seat.  He did not speak until I had reached the main road.
 
“Where’re we going?”
 
“You shall know soon enough.”  I smiled to myself as I drove.  Half–an-hour later I pulled into the car park at the Down Under Pub and Grill in Frisco and turned to see Terry’s smile.  “I thought this might improve your spirits.  If you find the meal revives you, I will spot you to a game of pool.”  He smiled in chagrin as I assisted him from the truck.
 
“Thanks, Mate.”
 
 
REAGAN
“Honest to God, Reags, if he doesn’t get out of this funk he’s in, I’m going to kill him.”  I nodded and said nothing.  “All he does is piss and moan about not being able to do anything.”  Same response.  “You’d think he’d be grateful for the fact that he still has that leg instead of bitching about the cast having another two-and-half weeks to run.”  I finally spoke.
 
“How’s your sex life?” 
 
She snorted.  “What sex life?  Terry gets blow jobs, and I get nothing …well, nothing substantial, anyway.  Most days he can't even bother to be nice to me.  It isn’t even that I miss sex so much, but I miss the physical closeness.  I’m afraid to touch him when he’s on the crutches for fear of upsetting his balance.  I just miss being close to him.” 
 
“Uh huh.”
 
“What do you mean, uh huh?” 
 
I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.  “Dee, it’s perfectly reasonable for both of you to be a bit testy about now.  And why in Hell are you still sleeping on the banana nose …or has that become the dogs’ bed?  Once the cast went on, there was no reason for you not to move back into the bed with him.  You’re accustomed to a very active sex life, and you both miss it.  Terry’s immobile for the greater part, and that wears on both of you.  You’re afraid to let him out of your sight, and that grates on both of you.  You’re both supremely independent people, and the fact that you’re in this more-or-less enforced confinement with each other 24/7 is going to be difficult.  Frankly, I’m surprised neither of you has blown up before now.” 
 
She was silent for a long moment before looking at me.  “How do you think Max is getting along with Terry?”
 
“Probably very well …after all, he got along with Quintus.  If I know Maximus – and I do – I’m betting he’s taken Terry out for lunch …someplace that serves burgers and beer.  There are a number of sports bars in the area; my money’s on one of them.” 
 
She nodded.  “I hope Terry goes light on the beer.  Alcohol and pain pills don't mix.”
 
I could only shake my head.  Dee can't quit worrying about him.  “Terry's a big boy, and he's been through this before.  He'll take it easy.  Remember, today you two are physically divorced, and I’m adding psychologically divorced to that dictum.  That means you don't get to think about Terry Thorne, broken legs, or meds.”
 
“That's going to be hard.”  She started blinking again.  “When did I get so damned wrapped up in some MAN?”  She almost spit out the last word.
 
“The day Terry walked into your life.”
 
Apparently once she gets started crying, she doesn't quit.  I pulled two Kleenex from the ever present stash in my jeans pocket and handed them to her.  “I didn't mean to fall in love with him.  A quick roll in the hay if I was lucky and on with my life.  Don't worry, you won't have to rearrange anything about the wedding; Terry and I can hold it together for that.  It won't be the first wedding where the best man and the honor attendant hate each other.”
 
Even though she hates it when I put on my tough love hat, right now she needs it.  “Quit feeling sorry for yourself.  You did fall in love with him, and now you're stuck with him.  You both feel like shit right now because of all the emotional upheaval.  He's thinking about all the things he can't do; you're thinking about all the things you can do for him.  Neither one of you is any good at asking for help, and you’re both even worse at accepting it.  Now, get the fuck over it.  He could have left with Miranda the night she came to visit.”  I’d finally hit on magic words.  Dee was still crying, but now it was from laughter.
 
“Can you imagine that designer clad harpy having to take off work ...?  Or standing under the shower head drowning so his cast won't get wet?  She can hold her breath that long, 'but my hair!'”  That thought cheered her immensely.  “So where'ya taking me?” 
 
“Diared’s.”  I could almost hear her spine crack as she whipped round to look at me.
 
“You’re shitting me!”
 
“Nope.  We’re both getting the works.”
 
“I thought you had to make advance reservations for more than one person.”  I grinned.
 
“Most of the time that’s correct …but I learnt years ago that it isn’t who you know, but what you know on them.”  Even though I said that jokingly, and it was in no way related to my former clinical practice, it did get her attention.
 
“You know the owner?”
 
“My lips are sealed.  Let’s just say someone there owes me a favour.  I called in the marker while you were in the bathtub.”
 
“I love how eclectic your students are.  What are we having done?”
 
“The connection isn’t a former student, and don’t ask.  Let’s see …River Rocks pedicures, plus manicures.  You are having an Ultimate Thai Massage; I’m having their Ultimate Swedish Massage.  You’re also getting the Shiodara Treatment which includes hair and scalp massage – I want to know how they massage hair, so you have to promise to tell me after – and we’re both having Acid-Peel Facials.  We’re both having an Aromatherapy Bath, and our legs waxed.  That should do you a treat, don’t you think?”  She took a deep breath, and I could see her starting to unwind.
 
“I think I may have just died and gone to Heaven.  Instead of another bath, do you think they can do something with my mop?  I haven't had a chance to get it cut since forever.”  It was a measure of her levels of stress and fatigue that Ms. Frugal didn’t ask what this was going to cost or who was paying for it.
 
 
TERRY
“I tell you, Max, I don’t know how she’s put up with me since we got home.  Christ knows, I appreciate every bloody thing she does, but I hate being dependent on her this way …and I’m taking that frustration out on her.  I don't even know what started it this morning.”  He nodded as the waiter put our lunch in front of us and brought us each another beer.
 
“That is understandable.  I do not take well to being incapacitated; I doubt many do, irrespective of gender.”  Max was having the smothered Mahi-Mahi with lump crabmeat and shrimp …not as good as Barramundi, but it would do for Texas.  I’d gone for the Rockingham Rib Eye and stabbed the meat savagely as I cut into it.
 
“It’s this bloody immobility and the fucking cast.  Diana got me one of those things you can slide under the cast to scratch where it itches, but it won’t reach my knee from either my ankle or my crotch.”  I chewed, swallowed, and returned to my tanty.  “Do you know how bloody frustrating it is to have your knee itch and not be able to scratch it?”  He started to answer, and I cut him off.  “Max, please don’t remind me that I’m fortunate to still have my leg …I know that, and I’m bloody damned grateful, but if one more person tells me that in my hearing, they may die.”  He closed his mouth.  I’d bent his ear since we walked – he’d walked, I’d managed to get from point A to B on my crutches – in the door and got a table.  I’ll say this much …a cast from your nuts to your ankle and crutches will get you a table bloody fast.  Maximus took another bite of his fish, chewed, swallowed, took a sip of his beer, and said nothing.  Clearly, if I was going to make a convo of it, I’d have to stop my whingeing.  I tried another topic.
 
“So, whatdya reckon Diana and Reags are doing this afternoon?”
 
“I do not know the full of it, but whilst Diana was dressing, Cassandra mentioned something about a facial.” 
 
That would make Diana feel a bit better.  She’d not had a moment to take care of herself since I got out of hospital; she certainly deserved a bit of pampering. 
 
“I suspect she may also have a shopping trip in mind …something to keep Diana distracted for a time …whatever women think to do when they are angry at us – and that will cost us money – is likely.”  He had me there, and I’d be willing to bet Reags would charge it all to her TEO AmEx card.  Served me right for being such a bastard these past weeks.  Dino can hide the cost in Medical Expenses.
 
 
We pushed away the dessert plates and groaned.  I didn’t recall eating this much since before being shot.  Diana's been trying to keep my calories balanced with my enforced inactivity.  She doesn't want me to screw up my shoulders hauling myself about.  She even used the words 'fat carcass' on one occasion.  It was said with all love, but her intent was quite clear.  I appreciate her concern for my best interests, but it’s still bloody annoying.  Max looked at me and raised an eyebrow before he spoke.
 
“If you are up to the challenge, might I interest you in a game of pool?” 
 
 
We left the pub and headed home three hours later; I was down almost $600.  I’d had no idea what a good pool player Max was and couldn’t blame his proficiency on my leg.  Still, I was in a better mood than I’d been in yonks and hoped the afternoon had served Diana as well as it had me.  On reason for the improvement for my mood was that whilst Max was beating me at pool, I realised I’d been both bearing weight on my bum leg as well as moving it to stretch it behind me when I was lining up and making shots.  It occurred to me that if I could accomplish those efforts without pain, there was no good reason for Diana not to be sleeping in the bed with me.  I’d take care of that tonight.  We got back to the house about four, and Reags' car was nowhere to be seen.  Inside and I checked the answerphone …one message, from Diana.
 
“We’re at Diared’s …no idea how long this will take, so we’ll see you when we get there.  We’ll bring dinner.”  She sounded happy, and the smile was back in her voice. 
 
“Max, can you do me another favour?” 
 
“Certe.”
 
I pointed with crutch to the fold-up chaise Diana has been using as a bed.  “Get that bloody thing out of here.”  I played her message again for Maxie to hear.
 
“What’s Diared’s?”  He shook his head as he headed for the door.
 
“I have no idea.  Likely some place women take themselves to in order to be pampered for a time …probably much like the baths in my day.” 
 
The girls walked in the door at seven-fifteen, glowing from head to toe and carting those little designer shopping bags that were sure to contain very expensive goodies; Diana was in a new floaty skirt and strappy, summer sandals.  I know I haven't seen either the skirt or the sandals before.  I know they were for my benefit; she told me.  They’d brought Thai for dinner, and Max and Reags left shortly after we’d finished eating.  I thought they would never leave.  Diana and I stood in the doorway as they backed their cars out of the drive and headed down the road.  I had my arm round her waist and hugged her.
 
“Did you and Reags have a good afternoon?” 
 
“Wonderful …how about you and Max?” 
 
“Ripper …he took me for almost $600 at pool, and I still enjoyed every minute.”
 
She laughed, and it sounded like my old Diana.  “I should have spent more at Cousin Vickie's.”
 
I leant down to kiss her cheek, whispering in her ear.  “I can think of one thing that would make the perfect ending to the day ….”  Her eyes were smiling as she looked up at me.
 
 
30th July
 
God, we’ve been happy since I got out of the cast at the first of the month, yet there’s still that small something between us.  Diana’s holding something back.  I wasn’t so tired these days that my dick was in the dirt, and we were well past people dropping in to check on me every night.  I’ve been back in the office for weeks now and only use the cane when I travel.  It not only keeps people from bumping my leg but garners sympathy in being boarded early at airports.  I took a swallow of my drink and looked at her.
 
“Diana, are you happy?”
 
“I am.  Why do you ask?”
 
“It just seems there’s a small part of you that’s always held in reserve.”
 
“There is.”  Her answer was matter of fact.
 
“Why?”
 
“Because when you leave me, I have to have at least a little bit of me left to rebuild.  It won’t take much,” she held her fingers half an inch apart to demonstrate, “but I have to have a little bit because starting from nothing again is out of the question.”
 
“Why would you think I’d leave you, Diana?”
 
“I don't know.  Men leave me; it's my history.  I’m not surprised any more when you pull in the drive each evening, but I’m not anywhere near the point of expecting you to pull in every night.” 

I put my drink down and grabbed both her hands in mine. “You need to believe what I tell you, Diana.  I have no hidden agenda.  I’m more open with you than I’ve ever been with anyone.  Unfortunately, you don’t seem to be returning the favour.”
 
“Terry, if I give up that last little piece of me, you WILL leave.  It was so much easier to do when I was younger …the giving it all part and the reconstruction when it didn't work out.”
 
“Do I need to tread more softly with you?  Have I ever intentionally put you in a situation in which you felt I wasn’t being completely truthful with you?” 

She looked at me, and her voice was small when she answered. “Yeah ….  But it was lies of omission.”  Quito …I’d waited too long to tell her about Quito.  “Diana, when things bother me now, I tell you immediately.  I just had to get to that point, and it took me a while.  In addition to that, what do we need to do to change our relationship?  What do you need me to change?”
 
“Why do we need to change the relationship?  Why do you think you need to change?  We're fucking like bunnies.  You make me laugh, and you get my sense of humor.  I think we’re incredibly comfortable together.  As a couple, we work a room well.  You make me feel cherished.  The dogs adore you.  It’s all working just fine as it is!”  Now she seemed defensive and let her temper flare.
 
“It’s working fine for you.  For me, unless it’s mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it’s a waste of our time.  There are too many mediocre things in life; love shouldn’t be one of them.  Do you love me, Diana?” 

She looked completely bewildered for a tic before she answered. “Yes …I told you on the plane …when you were shot.  That’s the first time I ever said it out loud.  I’d talked all around it; I’d told you all the things about you that I love, but I’d never said the words until that day.”
 
“When you were filling me in on all that I didn’t remember, why didn’t you mention it because I don’t remember that.”
 
“Because I thought hearing me say 'I love you' for the first time was big enough for you to remember.  When the Versed kicked in, you had such a beautiful smile on your face that I was sure my saying it would be one of the things you would remember.”
 
“Why haven’t you mentioned it again?”
 
“Because I’ve never heard you say it to me.  I didn't think it was reciprocated.  I didn't want to put either of us in an awkward situation.”  I sat back on the sofa.  I’d done the same thing she had.  I’d talked all round it, but I’d never said the words.  I don’t even remember the moment I fell in love with her, but I did, and it seems now that I’ve always loved her.  I leant forward and cupped her face in my hands.
 
“Diana, I do love you.  I’ve thought it so many times that I thought I had said the words.  Clearly, I haven’t, and I don’t know how to make amends for that lack.  Today, in this moment, I realise I’ve always been in love with you.  You knew from the start how to touch my soul; you always seem to get to me.”
 
“Define ‘in love,’ because I think we’re talking about two different things.”  She wasn’t making this easy for me.  Another thing I love about her – the things I think are tough are easy for her, and the easy things for me are difficult for her.  The dichotomy is fascinating.
 
“To me, being in love is sharing a life together, building a life together.  It’s a deep and abiding commitment to one person that you’ve never given to anyone else, and it’s a commitment that’s given freely, willingly, without ever having been asked to give it.  It’s not being able to imagine life without that person because they are your life.  Diana, I’m so in love with you that my life wouldn’t be worth living without you …I’d cease to live without you.  All I could manage if you walked away is exist.”  Her response was so pragmatic that I wanted to shake her in order to get her involved.
 
“OK, so that’s ‘in love’ with someone.  What’s your definition of ‘loving’ someone?”  I wish to Christ I knew where she was heading with this, as I know bloody well she has a goal in mind.  Wherever she wants to lead me with this, I'll go.
 
“Loving someone is caring for them, wanting the best for them, wanting them to be happy – and that’s also part of being in love – but you know that you can live without a person you love.  I loved my parents; I love my brothers and my sister.  I love Henry.  I love Dino, and Max, and Reags, but I could go on without them.  I’d miss them, but my life would go on.  My life wouldn’t go on without you.”  I ran my hand through my hair in frustration.
 
“God, your definitions of love and in love sound overlapping to me.”  Diana rubbed her fingertips up her forehead; she's frustrated, too.  “For me, they’re clearly defined and totally separate.  Your definitions of love and in love are mine for loving someone.  You haven’t accounted for the giddiness, the madness, the passion I feel for you, how I can’t keep my hands off you.  How thrilled I am when you reach out to touch me.  That, to me, is being in love.  Our definitions are oblique; they aren’t parallel, and they’re not diametrically opposed.  I wish we had diametrically opposed definitions – it would be so much easier to work with it.”
 
“Diana, sometimes you make me feel like a 16-year-old kid because I’m so giddy and crazy in love with you, but my body can’t physically take your definition of ‘in love’ over the long haul.  Look at the past three months.  How many memories have we built that have nothing to do with the bedroom?  Would you trade the feelings and the experiences and memories we’ve built this summer for five minutes of giddy?”
 
“Not on your life; I’d need at LOT longer than five minutes."  My glare at her cheekiness set her back onto our serious discussion.  "If you were to walk away now, you’d have given me a lifetime of memories that attach to the small little piece of me that I have left so that I could rebuild my life.  I could survive on those memories.  I don't think I could ever find another man who’s so right for me; you've spoiled me for anyone else.  Love has so many different layers for me.  It has the platonic; it has the gut-deep trust that I have for you.  If only we spoke Greek, maybe I could give you the precise word for my love for Dino and Max, my love for someone I consider a sister, Reags, and the love I have for you.  But I don't speak Greek.”
 
“Part of the problem we’ve always had is we’ve not been able to define our relationship.  Part of it was we weren’t willing to say the words, ‘I love you.’  Perhaps we’ve both been afraid to say the words, afraid of what they imply.  My ‘in love’ is agape, and it is Greek.  It’s caring more about someone else than you do yourself.”  I took a deep breath before continuing; I was taking a major chance with my next thought.  I took her hand and kissed her palm.  “Diana, if it would be better for you if I walked out of your life, that’s what I’ll do.  My life would be over, but I’m so in love with you that I’ll walk away, if that’s what you need me to do, though I don’t think my walking away is the answer.  I can move to your definitions of ‘love’ and ‘in love’ because the words don’t matter to me, although they’re important to you.  If you can define them, if you can categorise your feelings, it makes it easier for you because that’s how your brain works, and I love that.  What’s important to me is how you make me feel.  I have an extraordinary love for you; it encompasses all three kinds of love.  I promise you that every day from here on in, I will tell you I love you.  And as long as the old pecker holds up, I’ll give you the 'in love.'”
 
“‘Old Pecker’ …is that what you’ve named him?  I’ve always thought of him as Terry Junior.”  I sighed.
 
“Diana, I’m deadly serious.  What do I have to do to make you feel secure in me because I can’t go back and take away all the hurtful things you carry.  I'm not the people who hurt you earlier in your life.  I won't use your love to bludgeon you.  You are beautiful, and I’ll spend the rest of my bloody life trying to prove it to you.  Every time you have a success, I promise you a bottle of Krystal and a bouquet of roses.  I have enough confidence in myself that I want you to shine because you don’t threaten me.  You don’t have to build up ten ‘atta girls’ with me for every ‘aw shit.’  I don't keep score.  You’ll never have to dig yourself out a hole if you fuck-up.  If I criticise you, it will be for a specific thing or action, and it will be over, just the way you kick my arse when I need it, and once it’s said, it’s done.  It will never be broached again.  I won’t walk on eggshells round you any longer, Diana.  You mean too much to me to be playing a dangerous game.  You’re your own person; I will never take that away from you.  This won’t make any sense, but give me that last little bit of you …give us that last little bit.  Toss it into the pot, jump in here with me, Diana.  You have everything that I am or ever will be.  If you feel anything at all for me, Diana, let me know …tell me …why do you love me?”
 
 
DIANA
Damn!  My procrastination has just come back to bite me in the ass.  I’d intended months ago to clarify terms so that we could have a rational discussion and sort through this relationship, and I never got around to it.  Rational …we’re talking about love, and I’m trying to make it rational.  How the fuck do you have a rational discussion about the most important emotion in life?  I never did the spreadsheet and listed all the ways and reasons that I love him, making sure that number three is the big one.  I ought to be able to tick it off on my fingers and give this man the fullness of my heart like he’s just done for me.  I could have built the spreadsheet while he was on a business trip, during one of the God only knows how many naps he took when he was recovering, or when he fell asleep after we’ve made love.  My damned procrastination! 
 
“I’m sorry, Boomer, but you have to sleep somewhere else tonight.” 
 
 
TERRY
I picked up my keys and coat and walked to the door.  My kit was in the car, like always.  I closed the door behind me, and I stood on the porch for a tic, then looked up, asking the question of the dark sky. 
 
“Where do I go?”
 
 

 
 
 
NOTES