When Wendy returned nineteen years after that magic night we were both more experienced and our lovemaking was more of a celebration than an exploration. I knew then that I wanted Wendy as a wife, but she could not stay and could not explain why she could not. She said she wanted to. I went through the mad at Wendy stage and could have destroyed our relationship entirely if I had been able to express my angry feelings at the time. I was worried about the fact that on that second visit, with Wendy’s encouragement, I had taken the virginity of Mary Ann, Wendy’s daughter. This however was not the obstacle to our being together.
To use a work analogy I then put having Wendy as an ambition, a bit like when I was driving that first Lend Lease Chevy truck I had an ambition to own a brand new truck. I made do with what I could get, and I did have some very loving ladies in my life as well as some nice second hand trucks, but Wendy was the summit of Everest I may never reach, but dreamed of.
Then Wendy returned again another nineteen years on. We had another night of passion, which felt almost like a desperate attempt by Wendy to cling to a shred of normality. I relalised that whatever she was involved in, it was big and dangerous and it was more important to her than our relationship. I was jealous of something I knew nothing about. I found out later what was involved and I still shudder to think of it. We had our night of passion, accompanied by Wendy’s first lesbian experience and Wendy’s new lady friend’s first experience with a man, me. A virgin lesbian nurse fantasy threesome, wow.
Dear Penthouse,
I always thought your letters were fake, but then this happened to me……….
So Wendy left again with the promise of a much faster return this time, and I set about getting my life ready for retirement, with Wendy.
I have often regretted those years we missed but then again there are so many who lose their special one too early and live the rest of their life aimlessly or making compromises they regret later so I have no real cause for complaint whatsoever. I am a lucky man.
In 1988 it was Australia’s bicentennial. The local vintage vehicle club I had joined was having a parade through the city on the Australia Day weekend and I was preparing the Chevy for the run. I was underneath it tightening the gear linkages when a woman in heels walked into the factory. I looked out and saw a very tidy pair of bare legs that went almost up to her knees before my view was cut off.
“David?” That voice, that accent.
I jumped and hit my head.
“Ow… Wendy?”
“No,” said the voice, “not Wendy, Mary Ann, can we talk?”
I panicked and slid out from under the truck.
“Wendy, is she all right?”
“Wendy is fine, David.”
“Where is she?” I asked, wondering why Mary Ann was here without Wendy.
“Let’s go and sit somewhere and I will tell you all about it.” Said Mary Ann, so we went to the kitchen and I made coffees.
Mary Ann had changed a lot. She still had her mother’s trim figure but her hair was now blonde and in the “frizz” style of the day. She was wearing a short jumpsuit type setup that showed her legs as well as being unzipped far enough at the front to confirm there was a lot more there than when I last saw her. She had a dark tan and was wearing a large pair of sunglasses that matched the chunky necklace and multiple bangles. She had rings on most fingers but not a wedding band.
“What’s first,” Mary Ann asked, obviously having seen me evaluating her, “Wendy’s story or Mary Anne’s?”
“Wendy’s ok?” I asked again.
“Wendy’s fine.” Mary Ann confirmed.
“Then let’s talk about you.” I said, not wanting to be impolite.
“First the image,” She started, “Rod, my husband wanted to marry a “real” hometown American girl. So he did.” She looked at me knowing what I was thinking. “Our wedding night was fine and Rod never suspected he wasn’t my first.” We both smiled with the memories of the morning we spent preparing her for that event. “He was very um… inexperienced and I am very glad that we did things the way we did.” Mary Ann looked at me and I said nothing, waiting for her to continue. “Once we were married I didn’t really fit in with the other “executive” wives, I was too different to the image and seen as bit of hippie because I wore the long flowing dresses and had long hair. Rod never pushed me any other way but in the seventies I decided to try to fit in more. I dyed my hair blonde and got a shorter style, and with some new clothes I looked more the part.” Mary Ann looked at me and seemed to come to a decision. “I am going to tell you something no one else knows, so please keep it to yourself.”
“Sorry, but no.” I answered.
“What?” Mary Ann was confused.
“I have spent most of my life not knowing what your mother does that is so important,” I told her, “and I have made myself a promise that when we finally do get married…”
“Married?” Mary Ann sounded surprised.
“Yes married.” I answered firmly. “When we get married I am going to keep no secrets from her, I know what it is like to wonder.”
“You two are going to get married.” Mary Ann said, mostly to herself testing out the sound of the words. “Mum never said.”
“Yes,” I answered again. “We planned it five years ago when she was here…”
“She’s been back since um, our time?” Mary Ann was obviously not up with Wendy’s social life.
“Yes, when I was in…”
“Eeek.” Mary Ann screeched.
“What the…?” I started.