Thanks for checking in again on the story. It's been a while, so I've made this chapter longer than usual. It's great to hear your comments, so feel free to drop me a line. Connectwriter.
Finishing up her Saturday errands, Jill plopped herself on the couch, too pooped to do anything else. She had always been a model of efficiency, like her Dad, but that didn't mean that it didn't mean the pace didn't wear her down sometimes.
She wearily rolled her head over to the right, looking at the family photos on the adjacent end table. Herself and her family in earlier times, at the beach, birthday parties, even her own First Communion, though she had promised herself that she would retire that one to the archives. But pride of place was reserved for her brother's college graduation photo, one of the last really good ones that she had of him. She liked it so much that she had a duplicate made for her office, where it also held the place of honor.
She reached over and took the silver frame in her hand as she carefully placed it on her stomach and stared at it one more time. In the corner she had placed a small picture of his girlfriend, Veronica. It was her college graduation picture, too, thought it was not nearly the size of her brother's. But it was the only one she had, since a curiously hostile reaction from Veronica's relatives prevented the retrieval of any more. But It's provenance from her brother's wallet made it especially meaningful.
"Ronnie, should I put a new roof on the house or go to Europe?" She asked herself with a smile.
Who would answer which way was obvious to her, at least in her memory. But it was a good method for her to make difficult decisions, especially between having fun and doing duty. Her brother would have butted in and said, "Go get tickets!" but Ronnie would have said something like `fix the roof, but put some money aside so that you can go later."
It was a dichotomy in her own personality that she lived with, but it was also a reflection of the two people she was closest to. She'd long ago gotten over the tragedy of their deaths, but it didn't mean that they didn't live with her every day.
It had taken some sleuthing, not to mention professional pointers from Julie's Dad, for Brad and Mike to figure out where the Campagna family was. While it appeared that the older couple still lived in their small town, Jill lived and worked in the city, not real far from where the guys lived and worked themselves. But it could have been the distance to the moon for Brad, who couldn't yet picture just how he could get in touch with these people.
In the meantime, the summer wasn't waiting, and their jobs, studying for their graduate school exams, and participation in two weddings was turning it into a full, busy season. It was something quite different from a lounging-around vacation, but neither of them was complaining. After all, the company couldn't be better.
Pete and Kate's was the first of the weddings to hit. Unlike Julie, who, with her mother's help (and insistence) was preparing an extravaganza, Pete and Kate's was going to be more low key. They had planned on just a few friends and family in her parent's backyard for the wedding, with a reception immediately following at a small local restaurant.
Kate's hometown was 3 hours away, so Brad and Mike needed to make a two night trip out of it, with the rehearsal the first night, and the reception the next. It was their first ever opportunity for a fun road trip, but just getting out on the highway was not the only thing on their minds.
They didn't abandon sex while staying at the Kovars, but with his family around, especially his snoopy sister who wasn't shy about banging a broom on the ceiling below if when thought things were too quite, it was always a bit awkward. (The broom pounding had recently dissipated as things with Kurt got more serious and she seemed to fear getting a little of her own medicine.) It wasn't so much that gay sex itself was such a problem as that any kind of sex in your parents' house is awkward. Especially the fun, raucous and sometime loud sex that the guys often practiced back in school.
And in the car, things began to boil over. About 15 minutes from their hotel, Brad reached over and put his hand on Mike's thigh, gently rubbing it to the rhythm of the stereo as they breezed down Route 71. Moving his target down, Brad then squeezed his fingers between Mike's jeans and the torn, vinyl seat cushion, poking into his firm butt.
"God, pup. I could eat you alive right now." Mike could hear a short breath and a swallow when Brad finished.
"Easy boy, down! down!" Mike teased as he gently pulled out the wandering hand.
Brad retreated willingly, but not without reaching over for a final little squeeze to the thigh. "Your time is coming."
They passed a few more cars and then a school bus, in total silence except for the road noise of their old beater truck. Then Brad just blurted out what was on both their minds.
"God, pup I'm so horny I think I'm gonna explode."
It didn't take long for them to finally make it to the sleepy motel on the edge of town. Mike hadn't even thrown his bag onto the bed when he heard the flimsy door shut behind him and turned to talk to Brad.
"Babe, we've still got stuff in the car, I'll go get...." He only got a few words out of his mouth when Brad put him in the tightest lip lock he could ever imagine, which, after a moment of hesitation, he returned with equal force.
Their hands were pawing all over each other, in spite of the fact that each was still fully clothed. Without thinking, Brad accidentally ripped open mike's short sleeve shirt, pulling off several buttons and partially exposing Mike's chest.
Out of the corner of his distracted eye, he visually feasted on the sprinkling of hair between Mikes newly defined pecs, clear products of his recent workouts.
"Oh God!" He thought to himself. He's seen Mike naked a lot, and sometimes they even slept that way. But just this tease, the partial revelation the, suggestion of that fantastic body got his precum flowing.
Brad pulled off of the liplock momentarily, surprising Mike. In spite of his sexual frenzy, he had with weird considerate streak in him when it came to Mike, and he started to apologize.
"Oh jeeze, sorry pup, didn't mean to rip the shirt, I..."
Now it was Mike's turn. Before Brad could finish the sentence, or even take another breath of air, he put his hand behind Brad's neck and pulled their heads together again, shoving his tongue fiercely into Brad's mouth. He practically gagged at the intrusion, but only for a second as his own tongue quickly met the challenge.
....2 hours later, Brad looked up at Mike, who was straddling his chest, face about 2 inches from his.
"One more load, buddy, just one more!" Mike said. "Let's go!"
"Pup, please, not another, I mean, god, you keep me so hard, but I've already come, what 4 or 5 times? It's starting to hurt!" He pleaded, but only half convincingly with his big smile and semi-hard on. "Jeeze, pup, how do you do it? You can keep coming and coming, you're insatiable. I can't keep up."
Pulling away from Brad's face, Mike caught his breath and then looked into those brown eyes that he loved. "I never told you something before, maybe I should have, just for your own good."
Brad's smile went away briefly, but he was still looking up at Mike. "What do you mean, am I missing something?" He stroked Mike's defined stomach with his hand. "Go ahead, lay it on me."
He took Brad's face in his hands. "My grandfather was one of 14 children. Did I ever tell you that?"
"No, I'm not sure what that means, except....oh jeeze," Brad looked at Mike's dick.
Pointing with pride at his still rock hard cock, even after all this time, he said "and his father was one of 16 kids. We Kovars are extremely potent, we can go all night and through the next day, and we just stay hard. And we've got the kids to prove it!"
"My god, I've unleashed a monster!" Brad said as he reached up and pulled their tight bodies together. "But he's my monster!" he thought to himself.
"Hey big guy, you've got the rings, right?" Pete asked. He had requested that Brad arrive a half-hour earlier than the other guests so that they could prepare the restaurant together.
"Yupperoo, right here." Brad held out the tiny, red case as he gently opened it up for inspection. Pete couldn't help but notice his good mood.
After a quick look at the shining bold bands, he glanced up at Brad, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. Noticing a small bruise on Brad's neck, he moved him over to get a better view.
"You OK, big guy? "You've got a little bruise there, on your neck," he said, pointing to a spot just below Brad's ear but above the stiff collar of his white shirt.
Brad suddenly became red, though at first Pete couldn't figure out the reason for his embarrassment. "No, no, I'm fine," he answered, "Just scraped myself shaving this morning."
Just as he was moving his hand away from the bruise area, Mike showed up behind him, also wearing a white shirt and sport coat. Mike reached out to shake Pete's hand, and as he did Mikes shirt collar moved down to expose a similar bruise on his own neck, right at his Adams apple.
Placing his hands on each of the guy's shoulders, Pete brought the guys close and placed the pair right in front of him. When he'd gotten them perfectly positioned, he moved his hands over to their necks, gently putting his fingers on the exposed bruises. "Looks like you both scraped yourselves up this morning, boys! He exclaimed. "Better be careful it looks like your scrapes are contagious. And besides, someone more suspicious person would think that they look an awful lot like sucker bites."
Mike became beet red as he glance over at Brad, just before Pete put both of the guys into a headlock hug.
As the nicest restaurant in her little town, it often hosted special occasions like this. The food was not bad small-town family fare, but most importantly it had a nice size courtyard overlooking a creek at the back of the site, which made it perfect for special occasions. For Pete and Kate, the owners had strung up lights in a big maple tree, with candles at each of the tables and a even few floating in the water, tethered to trees on the edge of the creek.
Toward the end of the evening, Brad had joined Mike at the wooden veranda at the edge of the dance floor, abandoning the pride-of-place seat he had with the wedding party. He thought that Mike's silhouette against the ornamental lights made him even more beautiful than he already was, if that was indeed even possible. He just stood beside him quietly, ever so slightly leaning into his shoulder, enjoying Pete and Kates' dancing and the mood of the moment.
The newly married pair were carrying on like little kids, laughing, smiling, even engaging in conspirational whispers every once in a while as they'd glanced at the guest tables around them. Neither of the guys noticed when Kate subtly pointed them out to Pete, innocently continuing their sideline spectator roles.
"She's probably telling him how she can't wait to get him in the sack, you know," Brad said, leaning even harder into Mike and giving him a wink. "I'll bet Pete's an animal."
Mike was usually not quite as profane as his partner, but they both cracked up laughing. And since they were a little off to the side, they thought that they went pretty much unnoticed. That is, until they were ambushed by the bride and groom.
"Time for the wedding dance, guys!" Pete yelled to them as he and Kate pulled them out of their seats.
Kate grabbed Mike's hands and led him to the dance floor, which wasn't unexpected. But then Pete did the same with Brad, who couldn't quite believe what was happening. Even though Mike was of course a pro out on the floor, he was distracted and dumfounded as Pete wrapped his arms around Brad, putting him in a romantic embrace.
"Nervous, best bud?" Pete said as he pulled Brad's head onto his shoulder.
"Um, no, uh, just give me a second to adjust my feet." Brad replied, as he tried to buy some time to get his composure. He was as out of the closet as most any guy could be, but Pete's gesture even took him by total surprise.
Brad glanced over Pete's shoulder and watched as Mike expertly led Kate around the floor, though Brad could see that Mike was looking at him, too, almost with a look of "you OK?"
Feeling Pete's arms around him, with no hesitation or embarrassment, Brad nodded back a `don't worry,' as they both got into the rhythm of the music.
Brad was on a high after the wedding, which helped him deal with his anxiousness about pursuing his real family. Whatever happened with them, he definitely had friends, and especially Mike, who would carry him through anything.
Building up unrealistic expectations about this `reunion' was the worst thing that could happen, Mike said several times. He hoped more than anyone that good would come out of it, but somehow also knew that the consequences could be almost more that Brad could handle. They may not believe him, or think he's crazy, or, worst of all, may not even care.
They had both skipped out of work early so that Brad could call her at her office, the only number that he and his sleuths were able to obtain. "Do you feel ready?" Mike asked as they sat on the edge of their bed, with Tony behind them doing his part for support. It was nice to have the dog covering his back, Brad mused to himself.
"Uh huh, as much as I'll ever be." As he picked up the phone to start dialing Mike could see his hands shaking ever so slightly.
The handset was only at Brad's ear for a minute when he pulled it off to punch the keys. "No receptionist, I've got to use the directory," Brad whispered over to Mike, lowering his voice for no apparent reason.
Biting his lower lip, Brad waited for the phone to be answered, hoping that it would be a person and not a machine. Suddenly, there was a voice on the other end. But it was a guy's.
"Jill Campana's office. Rod here, can I help you."
"uh, could I speak to Jill please." Brad was desperately hoping that this guy wouldn't ask any questions. Mike saw him tightly shut his eyes for a moment.
"I'll send you right in. One moment."
"Jill here." He heard. Brad froze.
"Jill here, hello, is anyone there?"
Straining to push the words out, he asked "Jill Campagna?" Now he felt Brad's leg tense up.
"Yes, this is Jill. Who is this?
"Um, Jill, My name is Brad North. Do you have a second to talk?"
"Uh, I'm kind of busy, but tell me what you want and maybe I can help you." He sensed maybe some irritation in her voice, but had to plunge ahead. He was still confused about the absolutely best way to do this, but just let the words come out of his mouth.
"Jill, um, I'm going to tell you something that is going to probably surprise you, but let me explain, OK, please don't hang up.
It was the oddest call that she had ever gotten, and the last comment tempted her to do just that. But this person at least knew her name, and he clearly wasn't some slick salesperson. They never have shaky voices. So she decided to give him just a bit of slack, if just for a moment.
"OK, go ahead, but I don't have a lot of time, so please get to the point." She started to type into her computer keyboard as she was talking, thinking that this call was going to be ending pretty quickly. The thought did pass through her mind that `North' was Veronica's name, but the name was so common that she dismissed any relevance of it.
Brad's throat was really getting dry by now, the only thing keeping him going was his strong hopes.
"Jill, this is going to sound really strange to you, but I don't know any quick or, um, easy way of saying this. But I think that I'm your brother's son, my Mom was Veronica. The parent's died in the fire that day, but nobody except my Dad knew that she was pregnant...I...
Jill couldn't believe her ears. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and also seemed like yesterday. But the cruelty of someone to flay her with something like this, when in her mind it was absolutely, totally impossible, destroyed all of her understanding of the limits of sadistic behavior. She had stopped listening to him, and was letting her response boil up.
"Listen to me, you goddam bastard. You fucking bastard. Don't you ever, ever call me again and pretend to be someone you can't be. I have no Idea why you have called me, or what you have to gain by it, but you'd better go away, or I'll have the police on you in a two seconds. Go to Hell!" She barked into the phone, and slammed it down.
"Rod! Rod! Are you there?!" he heard. It was almost a scream, a mixture of anguish and anger. He got up right away and raced over to Jill's office door, where he saw her head in her hands.
She was turned away from him, toward the window, not willing or able to look right at him. Speaking in the artificially measured tones of someone who is so angry that they willfully slow down their speech in a desperate effort to control themselves, she said, "that last call I got, the one that you just sent in. Did you know who that was?"
Rod always gave her the straight story, but even he hesitated, as he had never seen her like this. "Uh, no, I didn't ask. Not unless you want me to start screen your calls.
She kept her hands in her head. "Well, in this case I want you to. If some guy calls who claims his name is Brad North, please tell him not to call back, OK? And he persists, tell him that we are going to have to call security, or he police."
`Wow, she's serious,' he thought. Then he acknowledged her request. "Um, sure, no problem." Do you want me to tell him anything else?
There was no answer, so Rod moved closer in case maybe she hadn't heard him, when he realized that she was sobbing. "Jill are you OK?"
She finally looked up and he could see her bloodshot eyes. He'd known her for a few years now, and had never seen anything affect her like this, especially in business encounters. She was always so cool and in control. But something was different here, he thought.
.
When she got home that night she felt like an empty vessel. It had taken her years to get over the disaster; she thought that she had left it behind her. But here it is, like 20 years later, and the emotions erupted all over again as if it was yesterday.
Throwing her keys and purse onto he kitchen table, she grabbed a beer from the fridge and plopped herself down in the big, comfy leather club chair that she liked so much. She looked like a sack of wet noodles as she slouched in the chair.
Over the years, she had worked out a way to deal with anger, not just about this, but about other things in her life. She knew how negative emotions would just eat at her, even if she was in the right. She always made it a point to think of whatever was positive in a situation, no matter how much she objected or disagreed. But she could never accept the preposterous story that this guy was trying to sell her. There would never be anything positive in that, she thought.
But it did get here to thinking about her brother and Ronnie again. And some of the great times that they had. The time that they took her out for her Birthday was one of the best, but also one of the strangest, too.
...She looked across the table at Ronnie, who was dressed casually in a sweater and slacks, a little informal for this kind of fancy restaurant, but then again she wasn't used to this kind of place. Most of the women were looked pretty elegant, with no shortage of baby pearls and jeweled broaches, neither of which Ronnie had. But her brother didn't care, and she didn't seem to, either.
As Ronnie returned from the ladies room and Rob was helping her into the chair, Jill realized how much she really admired her. Beside her uncanny ability to tame her brother, she had taken a real sisterly interest in Jill, talking to her about boys, her strict Dad, boys, clothes, more about boys, or whatever Jill wanted to talk about.
There seemed so much to admire about her personality, but that wasn't all. Ronnie was beautiful. She had a full head of brown her, and incredible smile framed by small, thin lips and, the object of a bit of jealousy on Jill's part, a big chest that this pubescent teenage girl could only dream about having (and would continue to envy for years to come.)
She didn't look her normal self now, though. Jill thought she looked a little fuller in the face than the last time she saw her, and paler, but maybe she was just imagining it in the dim `mood' lighting of the restaurant.
Robert had wrapped his hands around her after he sat down, unusually solicitous of her even for him. Even pulling her chair out and seating her first. "How you feeling, babe," he asked.
She glanced at Jill across the table, and then looked back at him. "OK, kind of hungry, though." She said as she pulled her hair back. "Do you know when's the food coming?
"It'll be her in a sec, at least yours. Jill's is going to take a few minutes, but I asked them to bring yours as soon as possible. Jill, you don't mind Ronnie eating before you do you? She's pretty hungry right now."
"Of course not," Jill replied anxious to do any little favor for Ronnie, who had done so many for her. She did find it a little odd, though, that Ronnie was so hungry, and that she couldn't wait to eat.
"We can all share my stuff when it comes, gang," she said to them both.
Robert looked at her a little weirdly, "um, are you sure, I mean you need to eat"
There was silence for a second, as Robert look down for a moment. Ronnie thought that Jill didn't notice as she had reached over and put her hand on Roberts lap, squeezing his leg to reassure him. It was another thing a bit unusual about this evening, Jill thought, but it would be one of the things she most remembered.
After the early order came, they all reveled in what was becoming a family-style meal as each one reached over and stole a nibble from Ronnie's pasta salad. Jill noticed how she was wolfing it down, and finally understood how hungry she was. Robert was only taking small bits, seeming to acknowledge her generosity but not wanting to be in any way a rival for the plate, and Jill intuitively behaved the same way.
"Are you still hungry, Ronnie? Jill asked, a little embarrassed at her own question. "There's the birthday cake coming you know. Save room!"
Robert looked over at Ronnie with a crooked smile, a bit of a smirk one might say, another little oddity which Jill couldn't quite understand. Veronica just looked up and readily acknowledged how famished she was, but didn't give any reason.
"Have you been playing Field Hockey?" Jill asked. She knew that Ronnie was a major jock, who loved sports. Sort of a contrast with her brother, who was athletic and in great shape, but didn't get as involved in team sports as Ronnie. Maybe that was why she was so hungry.
"No, not in a while. I've been kind of tired recently, so I've toned things down a bit. But I'm anxious to get back on the field!" She said as she looked at Rob and gave him another funny smirk.
"How is school going, Jill? Is Dad still on you about not getting an A+ in everything?" Roberts's abrupt change of subject surprised her, but she still answered her brother.
"yea, even though I have a 3.98 gpa. But it's my birthday, so I don't want to go there tonight, OK?
"Fine with me," Ronnie chimed in, smiling. She raised her glass of water in a toast to `Not talking about grades, but talking about Birthdays!'
It didn't take more than a few minutes for Jill's selection for the main course showed up, a steamed fish with vegetables. She was about to start serving everyone when she heard a gasp from Ronnie.
"Um, Ronnie, you OK? What's the matter?" She asked, taken aback.
She noticed that Ronnie had turned white as she pushed her chair back from the table, barely getting an apology out before both of her hands covered her mouth. Jill sat stunned as she watched Ronnie practically run toward the bathrooms, Robert right behind here, calling out to her.
"Babe! I'm right behind you, Go!"
There was a commotion as Robert was able to race ahead, clearing a path as quickly as he could. He was trying to be polite, but there wasn't a lot of time, and one unfortunate person got a `get the fuck out of the way,' when he didn't move quickly enough. As she finally made it around the corner to the bathrooms, which were just out of site of the main dining room, the commotion quickly died down.
Now sitting abandoned at the table, Jill was completely confused. It looks like the fish had caused some reaction in Ronnie, but she couldn't figure out why. She thought that Ronnie liked fish, too, so the it was nothing less than a shock.
In spite of his rough outing, Brad kept up high spirits, at least on the outside. Of course, he didn't really have a choice. Mike didn't give him any time or opportunity to dwell on the failure of the call. Not that he wasn't disappointed himself, especially for what he knew it did to Brad... But he also had more distance than him, and had the intuitive feeling that it would take more than one call to bring any closure to this, if closure was even possible at all.
"Come on, babe. Let's go down to the school and shoot some hoops." Mike said,
"Brad looked up at him from the edge of the bed. "You! You want to shoot hoops? When did that start?" The diversion was obvious, but not unappreciated.
"It started when I decided that we need to get out of the house and just putter around at something. We can talk as we play, or dribble, as you call it." He reached under the bed and pulled out his own sneakers and Brad's.
"Let's go," he said, as he handed Brad his pair.
Mike let Brad just talk as they walked to the playground about a block from their house, Tony following right behind.
Dribbling as he spoke, Brad struggled with what his next steps might be. "I'm not sure what I should try next. God she went ballistic, so at least I knew I had the right person." He said, with a bit of a smile, the first one Mike saw since the call.
For a half hour, they just shot around and talked. From Brad's intramural games to their time in the gym, Mike was really starting to appreciate what sports did for Brad to calm him down. And is wasn't so bad for Mike either, as he began to appreciate the therapeutic effects of exercise from his own gym visits.
"Like I've said, it'll take time, maybe you'll have to try a couple of different angles. We'll just have to think of other ways of hitting this." Brad said as he threw up a shot, which bounced off the rim. "But not like that," he said as he retrieved his own rebound, which he tipped back up for a basket. "Like this."
Showing up at Jill's office unannounced on a Friday afternoon was closer to the blunt approach, but that didn't mean that it wasn't a possible strategy. If only he could get by her secretary, there might be hope; be he had to get by the lobby receptionist first.
Taking the call from the downstairs security guard, Rod knew what he was supposed to do this time. However, he wasn't going to just dismiss this guy before he could find out more about what was going on.
"I'll be right out to see him, Tom," he said to the guard. "By the way, we may need you to escort this guy out, so be prepared."
"Will do." Tom looked up at Brad, sizing him up in case there was a problem. Tom was a huge guy, a part time bouncer, and knew what he had to do if things got rough.
Rod appeared a couple of minutes later and pulled Brad to the side of the lobby. He was about to speak, but then his mouth went dry for a moment. `Shit, this guys a hunk' he thought, the kind of guy that always made him nervous. But duty called, and he quickly recovered his composure. "I need to tell you that my boss does NOT want to see you, and if you persist, she'll be calling the police."
Brad argued back, as politely as possible, not wanting to tell Rod his life story, but telling him that it was extremely important that he meet up with her, that she would be glad that he did, etc." Though Rod was not immune to sentimentality, he was a dutiful employee who was devoted to his boss, and would not budge an inch.
"Sorry, Mr. North, but you need to go now! There is nothing else to say. If you want to keep arguing, I'm going to have the guard escort you out. Do you understand? Please leave."
Brad looked over at the guard, who playfully winked at him. He really was a big dude, but not a lot bigger than guys Brad had dealt with in the past. However, he didn't want to make a scene, especially as Mike had emphasized to him that he had to do this without anyone receiving any bodily harm, so decided to withdraw from the debate.
"OK, I'll go, I don't want to cause anyone any problems. But here's my name and address if she wants to get a hold of me," he said as he handed her a slip of paper. "I've told her the reasons why and all that, so if she changes her mind, tell her to call. OK?
"OK, Mister. But now you have to go."
Jill really wanted this whole thing out of the way, not only because of the stress it caused her, but she really was busy and didn't want this to put her even farther behind. It was going to be a working weekend, anyway, but she didn't want to make it any longer that it had to be. She called him into her office to get a quick report on the encounter before they started in on the quarterly reports.
"So, did he give you any trouble?"
"No, none at all. He did argue a bit, trying to tell me how you'd be glad to at least see him, but was very polite the whole time. Maybe he was afraid that Tom was going to toss him on his ass, I don't know, but he eventually left. But he did leave you some contact info, in case you change you mind, I guess," Rod handed her the slip of paper, which she rolled up in a ball and threw into the garbage.
"So Jill, do you know why this guy is trying to see you?" He wasn't sure how she'd react to the question, since she had divulged nothing about his motives in her emotional reaction to the earlier call, but there seemed to be no harm in raising what was an obvious question.
A long exhale followed from Jill. "I really can't tell you now, Rod, maybe later. It's just too personal and complicated. I hope that's an OK answer, but it's the best I can do right now."
He realized that in fact it was getting a little too personal too quickly and changed his questions to work related matters. But, to his surprise, she returned to the subject herself about a half-hour later as they were taking a short break.
"So Rod, what was this guy like? You said he was polite and all. Did he seem like some kind of stalker to you?" She was a little shocked at the implications of her own question, but decided not to qualify it.
Rod gave a slight laugh, which got a confused look from Jill.
"Well, I'm not trying to be disrespectful, or play down the seriousness of this, Jill, but I have to say that from what I saw, he was perfectly lucid and sane, not a maniacal crazy stalker, at least to me. He even left his name and address, so it's not like he's laying in wait in some dark alley. But if he is a stalker, I wish he was stalking me! God, he is really hunk-a-licious.!"
"hunk-a-what?" she asked. He was glad this humorous response got a smile out of Jill. She knew exactly what he said.
"Cute, really hunky and cute," he said, not wanting to repeat the word have to make up explanations for his quick neologism.
"So what was so cute about him? What did he look like?" She asked, now in hushed voice, like she'd say to one of her girlfriends when trying to unobtrusively check out a guy.
Rod sat silent for a moment, an odd pause for his normally loquacious self. "Jill, this is going to seem a bit odd, so just take it with a grain of salt, OK?"
"Sure, no problem. So, go on what did he look like?"
"He motioned over to the picture on the desk behind her, her brother's picture that had been on her desk in every office she had been in. "I've got to tell you Jill, it's the weirdest thing, but he looks just like that guy, your brother. Same hair, same eyes, pretty much same everything. Just the spittin' image as they used to say. Weird, huh?"
Rod looked at her for an answer, at some reaction to his comment. But all he saw was the blankest look that he ever saw on a person's face. Swallowing hard, he knew that he hit sensitive spot, and looked for an excuse to withdraw as soon as possible.
"Sorry, Jill, but I actually have to get going, now. I need to return that call the HR director, but we can continue maybe tomorrow, morning, OK?" he said, getting out of his chair and collecting his papers.
She muttered an absent, "OK," which he took for some small bit of recovery on her part, and practically tiptoed out of the room.
There was no movement, in fact barely breathing, until she looked down into the garbage can at the piece of paper.