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From: Red Redman <redman@seductive.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Secret Santa: The Longest Two Weeks {Redman}
Date: Sun, 31 Dec 2000 16:10:02 -0500
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The Longest Two Weeks {Redman}
(c) December 2000
Comments welcome at redman@seductive.com.
Other stories at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Redman/

Author's note: This story was written as a Secret
Santa gift to Lexi. Here's a note from her about it:

I didn't know who my Secret Santa could be. I only
knew that I gave Denny Wheeler four ideas and waited
to see what would happen. My Santa was going to pick
one of the ideas and write a story just for me. There
was a favorite, of course, and guess what? My Secret
Santa wrote a story about that idea.

I wanted a story where a rich woman and a poor woman
get together. The money matters at first, but love
soon takes over and they live happily ever after. I
think Redman did a wonderful job with my idea as you
will find out when you read my Secret Santa story,
"The Longest Two Weeks".

Lexi



The Longest Two Weeks
by Redman


I walked into the house and knew immediately that
something was wrong. Everything was too quiet. It's
funny. Lani had only been living with me for six
months now and already it seemed as much her home as
mine. It seemed like ours. I've had other live-in
lovers. Some of them lasted much longer than this. But
this was the first time I had every thought of my home
as "ours."

Her car was in the driveway, the little red Beamer I
had bought her. She had to be here. But everything was
deathly quiet. Lani always had the music going. There
was always life with her around. Something was wrong.

Maybe not. Don't be melodramatic, Margaret, I told
myself. It's a big house. Maybe she's outside.

Still, it didn't feel right.

An indistinguishable noise drew my attention to the
front sitting room. That was odd. Lani never goes in
that room unless we're entertaining guests. She says
it's too stiff. Too formal. There's a part of Lani
that will always be a country girl. She doesn't care
for formalities, certainly not the formalities of
the rich. It's one of her most endearing qualities to
me.

The moment I entered the room, my stomach dropped.
Lani sat across the room in one of the large,
overstuffed chairs that had come down from my parents
and their parents before them. She was wearing her old
clothes. Blue jeans. A knit shirt. Around her on the
floor were her suitcases. On the table in front of her
were keys, a stack of papers and a few of the many
personal gifts that I had given her over the months.

It looked as though she was packed to leave.

"Hello, Margaret," she said.

Her voice was high and sweet. She had a beautiful, if
untrained, soprano. Just the sound of it made me
remember one of our first evenings. Too much wine. Too
much good food. Lani's sweet, clear voice singing with
the songs on the radio. It was one of the first nights
she had touched my heart. The first of many.

"Hello, Lani," I responded. "What's this?"

"This?" she said.

A simple word. A simple word filled with meaning.

She was trying to sound determined ... mature ...
decisive. She would have, too, except that her voice
cracked in the middle of so short a word, betraying
deep emotion. Her eyes fought back tears for a moment.
Then she tossed her head, sending a cascade of auburn
curls flying over her shoulder. She held her head up
determined; her neck as thin and regal as any
patrician blue blood I had ever been to school with.

"It's time for me to be leaving."

Just like that? No other explanation? I waited,
expectantly. Lani waited me out.

"This is sudden. Is there a reason?" I asked finally.

"I thought we didn't owe each other explanations," she
replied sharply. "Isn't that what we decided? No
commitments. No explanations."

"Yes. That's what we had said. Then."

Then was when we had first met. Lani was new in town,
waitressing at a coffee bar. Some of the girls and I
had stopped by late at night. I had been taken with
her. So taken that I had stayed behind, much to the
delight of my running-mates. They had left me there
after several pointed jabs at my expense over my
reputation for "slumming." To my friends, this meant
my taste for young, naive girls who were a bit on the
unrefined side.

And perhaps I have been guilty of that in the past. My
sophisticated friends bore me. I grow weary of hearing
who is sleeping with whom, what vacation spots are
just fabulous and who got so drunk at the last party
that they trashed themselves. Money and sophistication
do not necessarily make people more interesting. After
a while, it simply makes them more predictable.

But Lani was different. Certainly different from my
friends. Different even from the other unsophisticated
girls that I had turned to on occasion.

Oh, she still had some things in common with them. She
still believed that money would solve her problems.
That's typical of someone who's never lived with
wealth.

But she also combined naivete with common sense in a
very endearing fashion. She had left Texas because her
small town didn't accept a pretty young girl with no
interest in boys, but she didn't feel pressured to don
any of the urban lesbian roles either. She was unique
to my experience. A girl comfortable in her skin, but
looking for something better than what she had, too.

"Is there anything about our arrangement that has
displeased you?" I asked her.

Arrangement. I hate that word, but I couldn't think of
anything better to describe what we had. Lani lived
with me. We shared a house and we shared a bed.
Neither one of us had wanted the back and forth of
dating. We had instantly connected with one another.
We had found each other intriguing, exciting. But it
wasn't just passion. There was passion, to be sure.
But there was also more.

Even so, we had both wanted to keep our options open.
Well, that's not entirely honest on my part. Growing
up in the circles that I did has made me very
protective of status and lifestyle. I may get turned
on by poor, unsophisticated girls, but I wouldn't
necessarily want to make one my life partner. In the
end, I was as protective of class as any other of my
circle.

But it wasn't entirely one sided. Lani had just moved
to the city. She wasn't certain where she wanted to
end up, either. She was intrigued and attracted to my
lifestyle and friends, but she was hardly in love. She
wanted to see how the other half lived, but she didn't
rush into my arms with her eyes closed.

And she had certainly enjoyed herself. My friends, for
all their ribbing of me, had been eager to experience
Lani's charms. Our arrangement was not exclusive.
Having been installed in my home, Lani had the pick of
my friends. At least the female friends who
appreciated the company of other females. And she had
taken advantage of that aspect of our relationship. We
entertained frequently, especially at first. Lani as
often ended in the guest bedroom as in mine. Neither
of us lacked for companionship on such nights.

But lately things had changed. We had been staying in
more, enjoying one another's company. We had spent
evenings reading together, of all things! Lani had
even convinced me to listen to the Dixie Chicks. Worse
yet, I had enjoyed them. I had enjoyed it all. I had
enjoyed her.

Until two nights ago. We had thrown a little intimate
party. Just a few friends to share our meal and
company. I had drunk too much wine. Fallen back on bad
habits. Invited another girl to my bed. Spent the rest
of the evening regretting it.

She had been beautiful. She had been a delightful,
intelligent woman. But she hadn't been Lani. I found
myself missing her smile, her tenderness, and her
lips. Lani's lips are hypnotizing. They call to me.
They speak to me.

"It just isn't the same now, Margaret. I thought I
could keep my distance. I know you don't want to make
a commitment and I thought I didn't want one either. I
love the new clothes and the new cars. But two nights
ago, when you left the room with Alexis, I found out
that I loved something else even more."

I paused, letting her words sink in. Perhaps if I
could just tell her how I feel...

"Does it make any difference if I told you that the
whole time I couldn't stop thinking of you?"

"It helps. It doesn't change my mind," Lani said
wistfully.

"Does it make any difference that I've regretted it
every moment since?"

"Not really. I don't wish you any regrets."

"Does it make any difference that I've fallen in love
with you?"

She sat immobile. Tears began to stream down her face.
I wanted to run to her, to kiss those tears, to hold
her so close to me that she could never think to
leave.

"It might. If it's true," she finally choked out.

"It is true! What can I do to prove to you that it's
true?" I begged her.

Wouldn't my friends be delighted at that! Me begging
her!

"You could come visit me," she whispered softly.

My heart sank again.

"I have a place on the Northside already. It's small.
Nothing like this. I'm going to get a job. I have
three months rent saved up. A little money for
groceries. I better find a job pretty quick, eh?"

She chuckled. A lonely, sad chuckle.

I nodded to her. I tried not to lose it. I was close.

"I still have my old stuff in storage," she continued.
"I have a twin bed. I'll save the other side for you.
If you really mean it."

I smiled and began to wipe back the tears I didn't
even realize had fallen. There was still hope.

"But not too soon," she whispered. "Give me two weeks
to get on my feet."

I went to her, gathering her in my arms.

"I'll let you pay half the rent," she laughed a little
sadly. "If you decide to stay, that is. But you'll
have to listen to my music."

"I could live with that," I said, trying to memorize
forever her face at this moment. "Do you think I
should find a job, too?" I chuckled.

"Let's not push it. Let's just take it one step at a
time."

"Okay, Lani. In two weeks then."


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