House of Cards, Part 5

    The following story is a sequel to "A Second Chance" (posted 19 January
1998). While it is not necessary to read "A Second Chance" before reading the
story below, it provides some background that may not be supplied below in
"House of Cards".

    Also, a special thanks to SSTORYMAN -- for providing me with the
motivation to keep going and all the help during the rigorous editing process.


    House of Cards - Part 5/5


    9. A Third Chance

    The initial agreement between Steve and Diane was worked out without any
help from outside. Both actually holed-up in their big house over the weekend
by themselves after he got home from London. They dropped the girls with his
parents so they could be alone. Both knew that this was not a weekend for a
romantic interlude to cure an ailing marriage. This was a business deal, a
pre-separation agreement. They carefully and considerately constructed it over
the course of two days. In the end, their remarkable maturity and care for the
welfare of their children prevailed and they were able to civilly discuss most
of the important issues and commit them to paper. They never did have to call
up Dr. Al's 'Contact' agency or involve a lawyer, at least in this beginning
stage.

    Throughout the weekend, they talked, they laughed and they cried. Steve
was a good man. The contrast between he and Ron was so obvious to Diane that
it sickened her. Steve had character, he was a natural leader. He was still
her fair-haired wonder boy, the dashing man in a pilot's uniform that
graduated from the Air Force Academy. As trite as it sounded by today's
standards, Diane recognized that she still emotionally subscribed to it all.
She loved the mushy stuff and was born and raised to want to rely on a strong
man, a leader. In a complementary role, she was the 'girl next door', the one
the man would always come home to and sweep off her feet. Could she love him
again? Probably not but she knew she would always respect him despite their
mutual marital infidelities.

    Life's like that, she pondered. It's not all clean and perfect around the
edges. The Ron's can be fun but it's the Steve's that the women seek out in
the long run. And the irony is that at the end of the day, neither is perfect.
Diane laughed to herself. I guess humor's all I've got left at this point, she
thought.
    _________________

    "He's here Kristen, daddy's here!" little Amy shouted to her sister as she
saw Steve's car approaching the house. She picked up her tiny backpack and ran
to greet him.

    Diane was heading towards the front door with Kristen under her arm. Both
girls had packed their things for a weekend with their father. Kristen had a
less than enthusiastic look on her face. Their separation had been harder on
the seven year old.

    "Hi Diane," he smiled as both girls put their arms around his waist.

    "Hi Steve."

    "I'm going to be taking them up to Lake Lanier Islands for the day then
back to my place tomorrow. I'll have 'em back on Sunday at six."

    "Fine, no problem." Diane looked at Kristen and Amy, "Have fun guys, do
what your father tells you. See you tomorrow."

    "Bye mommy, I love you," called Amy.

    Then they sped off in Steve's new convertible.

    Diane walked back inside with Charlie. She was actually feeling buoyant
for the first time in her six-week separation from Steve. The divorce was
proceeding as normally as could be expected (my second, she sighed). And it
looked like she was going to be able to keep the house and continue to raise
her daughters and keep them in the same schools. Steve was being very generous
and living well inside their agreement.

    Diane shut the oversized front door and looked around the foyer. She was
going to be all alone in the big house the entire weekend. She'd rented some
videos to watch for later but first wanted to take a shower so she headed up
the stairs. She plopped down on the bed and noticed her cigarettes sitting on
the nightstand. Diane had resolved to really try to cut down on her smoking in
the last month or so. It was very tough for her though. She had been
carelessly smoking almost a pack and a half a day and suspected that any judge
in a divorce settlement might not look fondly on a mother that smokes who is
seeking primary custody of her young children.

    She stopped to think. Let's see...I had two after breakfast, one at lunch
and one more before the girls left, four in all, not bad. It was now 2 PM.
Diane grinned. I can have one now. She reclined on the bed, extracted one of
her new full-flavor VS menthols and lit her fifth cigarette of the day.

    As Diane lay back puffing clouds of smoke towards the ceiling, she
realized that the emotional roller coaster she'd been riding over the last ten
years in parallel with Ron was probably more connected to her smoking than any
other single thing. Any outsider would certainly see this as a negative, she
suspected. Diane did not. She could still see the opportunities ahead. I'm
just now understanding what I can become. Her sessions with Al had helped
define some of this framework but there would be a lot of effort still
required. I'll make it, she assured herself. There would undoubtedly be more
men ahead but not yet. I need some time, some time to figure out just what it
is that I want. Everything was still a little hazy but certainly getting
better. Her focus had improved over ten years. As she looked back with a
positive spin, she saw her life as a connection of several ricochets that now,
with experience had put her on a truer course. How's the song go? 'I can see
clearly now, the rain is gone..." She laughed out loud but one thing WAS clear
- any man that I get involved with in the future will be a smoker, a fully
committed, no excuses, outright smoker.


    10. The Second Sighting

    What a turn of events, in fact, I don't even know where to begin. Okay,
yes I do....I was driving home from work stuck in commute traffic (as usual)
on a busy main county road hopping traffic light to traffic light. At the
moment, both lanes of cars in my direction were sitting at a dead standstill.
The signal up ahead was green but everything was gridlocked, no one was moving
through it. This was not an unusual drive home for me.

    Over the last year I'd seen many white Jeep Grand Cherokees on my travels
in and around the Atlanta metro area. And each time I'd spot one, I'd try my
best to get close enough to identify the driver. I hadn't forgotten my
memorable sighting and I certainly hadn't forgotten 'her'. The problem was
people were sure buying a lot of Jeeps these days. They were all over the
place! Accordingly, as my memory of the sighting remained, my senses were
being dulled by the high volume of these sport utility vehicles floating
around the roads. So, when I actually did come upon hers on this particular
commute, it didn't really sink in until I saw the license plate. Now, while I
admit that I remembered a lot of the important details on that day long ago, I
did not memorize her license plate. Well, not its letters and numbers anyway.
As I saw the special green and brown Georgia "Give Wildlife a Chance"
environmental plate on this particular white Jeep in front of me, my heart
skipped. And, although the glass on the tailgate was tinted, I could
definitely see a blond woman up in the driver's seat. It was her. I knew it! I
was in perfect position to follow her. I wanted to be in the lane next to her
so I could watch from the side but traffic would not permit it. Riding behind
her like this actually turned out to be better anyway. I looked for any signs
that she may be smoking but was disappointed. Her window looked like it was up
and there was no white object in her hand on the wheel. Nonetheless, I was
determined to get a closer look at her. I had to!

    What happened next still amazes me. After following her for about a half
mile practically touching her bumper so no one else would slip in between, she
put on her blinker indicating a right turn. I was not supposed to turn at this
intersection but without even giving it a thought, I followed her like it was
something I did everyday.

    Now what, slick?

    Going down this strange road, I remember thinking, just what the hell am I
doing? This was way out of character for me but, again, the thought of
continuing on with my normal commute was no longer an option. I was outside
the 'box' and my rapid heart rate proved it.

    As we cruised along, I noticed the traffic was getting just a touch
lighter. This road we were on did not seem to be feeding a larger one, we were
getting closer to residential areas. Gulp.

    She's probably headed home. Idiot, of course she is. Just what the hell
are all these cars doing pointing north away from the city, heading to 'the
Ted' to catch the Braves game?

    My sarcasm proved that I was becoming very uncomfortable with this
situation so I started to rationalize.

    When she turns into her driveway, I'll just cruise right by. No harm in
that, she'll never know. Just another plain old car driving by the house. Then
I'll head home (like I should have done in the first place!).

    We were down to a two-lane road. I was convinced that we were going to her
house. Well, I'd worked out 'Plan A' so I felt a little calmer. I knew what I
was going to do. Much to my surprise, before we entered any kind of
neighborhood, the white Cherokee turned right again into what looked like a
park or a school or something.

    Oh, Christ, what do I do now?

    There was still a flow of cars around us so I did what I had started out
to do in the first place (in for a penny, in for a pound). I matched her right
turn and felt my heart rate start to rise again.

    Before I go on, let me say this: I am no 'stalker', no sicko nor a
degenerate. This woman, whoever she was, was safe, at least from me. I just
had a feeling about her like I'd never had about anything before. In fact, I
admitted to myself (well, rationalized would have been a more choice word)
that what I was doing now transcended my initial quest just to see her smoke
again.

    I know, you're grinning. You don't believe me do you? Well, I was kind of
letting things happen one step at a time...going with the flow (as they say),
a flow that had caught me and sucked me into these unfamiliar waters. I was
desperately fumbling in my mind for 'Plan B'.

    Now I could see houses, big ones. The once busy boulevard had turned into
some kind of access road that was lined with planted trees and a manicured
grass median. Another right turn put us in a decent sized parking lot that was
surrounded by very large hardwoods and pines. These trees had been here long
before any homes sprung up. I noticed a grassy field lay just beyond a
clearing. A building opposite the field looked like it served a swimming pool
and several tennis courts. This was a park, a neighborhood park that was owned
by the residents.

    Great, everyone will know everyone else here. I'll stick out like a sore
thumb despite being dressed in a shirt and tie.

    She turned her vehicle into one of only a few spots left to park. I
couldn't stop behind her and I didn't want to just leave (oh, no, not after
coming this far). Luck was with me. A car on the opposite side was backing out
so I waited then moved in and parked as quickly as I could. As I shut off the
engine, I looked over my shoulder. She was stepping out of her door and
walking around to the passenger side.

    What the....? Oh, of course! She's got a kid. She's no doubt married too.
God, what am I doing? This is ridiculous.

    All of a sudden, reality was setting in.

    I need to leave.

    But then again, this was all very intriguing.

    I'm assuming this woman smokes. I saw her! Well, yes, it WAS a year ago,
memories do fade....no, no, she smokes.

    Again, what was making all this intriguing was the fact that she did not,
in fact, absolutely did not fit the 'mom' stereotype (she smokes!).

    This neighborhood must be filled with moms, young families with little
kids. These women don't smoke. They jog, they go to health clubs and do
aerobics, they go to soccer games to watch their kids but they certainly don't
smoke, do they?

    Soccer games. This was precisely what she had come for. She had this
little blond girl (presumably her daughter) tailing her and carrying a big
brown bag. She looked to be about five and was hopping all around. A lot of
other parents were also making the trek from the parking lot towards the
field.

    She's going to join her husband somewhere in that crowd beyond the trees.
Yeah, that's it.

    I got out of my car and figured that I could blend in fairly easily, so I
started walking. I maintained a position of about 30 feet behind her but at a
45 degree angle. Again, I couldn't believe I was doing this. For the first
time since deviating from my normal commute route, I was ready to call it off,
end it right then and there. I was having a serious case of
'what-the-hell's-gotten-into-me' doubts. We took up the side of the field with
a small set of bleachers on it however she and her daughter did not try to
find a seat. In fact, her little girl handed over the big sack that she had
been carrying and appeared to run off to play. Alone now on the sidelines, she
was scanning the field as if to identify one of the kids kicking the soccer
ball around.

    Another child of hers?

    The kids on the field were older than the one that had just left her to go
play, probably about 8, maybe 9. I now had a very good view of her, this woman
that I could simply not let go. She looked better than I remembered. I was now
only about 20 feet from her but slightly behind and out of direct view. I felt
that something was odd. Most of the parents seemed to know each other and were
congregated in the stands. Some others stood in groups on the sidelines
conversing with each other as they watched their children race around the
field in their red or blue jerseys.

    She was different. She stood by herself on the sidelines smiling
expressively with her large eyes and holding her hands together at her chest
as she cheered softly for some girl out on the playing field. She looked
lovely, as I said, better than I remembered. But for some reason though, and I
just can't explain it, I felt sorry for her. She looked lonely, alone inside.
It was just a hunch and a lot of time my hunches were wrong. No, hunch or no
hunch, something was amiss here. I just couldn't pinpoint it. The doubts set
in again.

    Well, I've seen what I've come for. Time to head home. What was this all
about anyway? Idiot. Moron. As if you were going to talk to her.

    I was being deservedly hard on myself and was truly ready to leave this
time when I noticed her take this large bag (bigger than a purse) off her
shoulder and set it on the grass next to the grocery bag that the younger girl
had left. She was unzipping it and reaching inside. Was this the opportunity I
had been waiting for?

    It hadn't sunk in yet but I was about to be rewarded for being persistent
in my pursuit. This extraordinary woman, standing alone on a field full of
people pulled out a single, long white cigarette from a hidden pack in the
shoulder bag and lit it with all the grace and efficiency of a dedicated
smoker. She maintained an initial long drag as she stooped to replace her
lighter in the bag at her feet. It was poetry. It was just what I had waited
for. At this point, I couldn't help myself. I moved in closer and more aligned
with her position on the sidelines. If she suspected she was being watched
before then I had probably just confirmed it with my movement. I didn't care.
There were numerous others around. She wouldn't notice me.

    She raised the cigarette again for her first real puff since lighting it.
My virtual lifetime experience instantly had the brand pegged - Virginia Slims
Menthol. The events of a year ago were so firmly etched in my mind that
watching her now only served to affirm them. Her draw on the cigarette lasted
about three seconds. Her cheeks hollowed in only slightly until she slid the
VSM gently from her lips and popped the smoke in her mouth just like she did
in the past sighting. Her inhale was brief and she let the smoke go in one
long exhale through her mouth and nose. A light breeze immediately carried her
stream away almost in my direction. I breathed in deeply hoping to at least
catch some of it. I asked myself if I was being too obvious as I stood only 10
feet from her pretending to watch the game. As soon as her puff ended, she
started another and continued to smoke in this manner, mirroring each previous
effort until the cigarette was gone. It was six minutes of pure heaven for me.

    When she was finished, I noticed what looked like another mom approach
her. They exchanged some brief words. I noticed her smiling broadly and
nodding her head expressively. It seemed exaggerated and very friendly. The
other woman was not quite as open. Then she leaned over, picked up the grocery
bag and handed it to the woman. I could hear the other woman say 'thank you',
then she turned and left. The contents were presumably refreshments for the
kids after their game ended.

    The match eventually did come to an end and she didn't have another
cigarette. It didn't matter. Something else was holding me here on the field
besides my interest in watching her inhale smoke. I just couldn't decide what
it was though. I hung back as one of the girls came off the field, talked
briefly with her then ran off towards her teammates. The younger one also
returned then headed off with her older sister.

    She was alone again. No one was talking with her during the post-game
festivities. Other parents drifted towards their cars sharing some final
conversations or quick laughs amongst themselves. The parking lot was getting
very congested as cars moved in all directions. As much as I was fighting it,
I was not done. Something told me that I should be the one to talk to her if
no one else would.

    What do you mean, talk to her? Are you crazy? She doesn't know you from
Adam. You'll scare her.

    I thought some more.

    No, I won't scare her. There're people around. She's on her home turf and
I don't exactly look menacing, do I?

    This was what was going through my mind as I loosely tailed her towards
the parking lot. She was now about a stone's throw from her white Jeep when
she abruptly stopped in her tracks. It appeared that she noticed something odd
about the car. To keep from becoming suspicious, I kept walking in the
direction of my own car. When I got to the door, I could now see what had
halted her. She had dropped her shoulder bag and was eyeing a flat left rear
tire on her vehicle. She was just standing there gently shaking her head when
her two daughters arrived ready to climb in. She pointed at the tire visibly
concerned with the predicament she was in.

    Of course...I know what you're thinking. This was a divine opportunity
wasn't it? And yes, I seized it big-time, corny or not.

    "Hello." I said from behind her.

    She turned around slightly startled.

    I was unbelievably nervous. This entire scene felt so unique yet somewhat
familiar in a childlike way. It was like being a school kid and seeing your
teacher (the one you had a crush on) in the supermarket - kind of embarrassing
yet strangely exciting at the same time.

    I smiled, "I'm sorry, I just noticed your flat there and wondered if you
might need some help?"

    She gave me a quick appraisal to see if she recognized me. Her head cocked
slightly to the right. Finally, with a flustered smile she said, "Well, I
don't know. I've never had a flat before. I suppose I can't drive on it, can
I?"

    I let this moment soak into my memory. The strangest feeling came over me
(do you believe in love at first sight?). What?! Love? Are you out of your
mind? Are you just plain LOSING it?

    I wasn't in love but I was certainly developing an infatuation with this
woman that I'd known for all of fifteen seconds. "No, you really shouldn't
drive on it. I can change it for you. It would only take about ten minutes."

    I suspected that it'd take me longer than that but I wanted to win her
business. (Judging from the fancy neighborhood, she could probably afford to
call some auto service to drive out and fix it.) I wanted to make the task
look very trivial.

    She looked at me again and offered a more sincere smile. "Oh, I couldn't
let you do that! That's so sweet of you to offer though. You're dressed in
that tie and slacks....."

    "No, really, I can fix it. It's not that bad of a job."

    She glanced at the flat again showing me that she had no inclination of
how to repair it herself. "Well, okay. Do you know where everything is?"

    (No.) "Sure, most all cars are the same." (Except four wheel drives like
this.)

    She pushed the electronic opener on her key ring as the alarm chirped
once. Then she opened the back window and gate. "Okay, this is about as much
as I know," she said trying to laugh.

    At this point, I was so indebted to her. She was being so trusting of me
that I wanted to hug her. Here she was with her two little girls in a quickly
emptying parking lot near sunset, letting a strange man into her car. She must
have thought that I was from the neighborhood too or she wouldn't be doing
this. As I scanned the back cargo area of her Jeep, I did not see a spare
tire. It must be outside underneath I thought. I bent down to take a look.
Nothing.

    "Uh, well...minor problem. I can't seem to find your spare."

    She thought about it for a moment then said, "Oh no. You know what?" Her
voice gave a slight inflection on 'what' resembling the soft indigenous
southern accent. She sounded so sweet to me. "I think that the spare is home
in my garage. Oops."

    Now we were at a crossroad. I could maintain my dynamic
here-ma'am-let-me-be-of-service attitude and offer to go get it or I could let
her decide what she wanted to do. As much as I wanted to hang around and help,
I chose the latter.

    I smiled back at her. "Oops," I repeated after a brief pause. "I have a
cell phone in my car. Is there someone at home that you could call?"

    She also paused. "No," then she sighed. "Look, you've been so nice. I
don't want to trouble you anymore."

    Since she seemed to be dismissing me, I waited for her to offer a solution
but none came. She looked so innocent, so vulnerable. Her older daughter was
reminding her about a Brownie meeting that was coming up in an hour. I decided
to go for broke.

    "Look, really, this is no trouble. I'd be glad to help you retrieve the
tire."

    Something in my eyes must have told her that she could trust me. All of us
piled into my four-door Toyota Avalon and took the short half-mile drive to
her house. Again, I'm sitting there thinking that I'm riding with my 5th grade
teacher, completely intimidated by the experience.

    "I'm Diane by the way," she said extending her hand across the seat.

    I took it -- it felt smooth and moist. I offered my name as we shook. At
this point, things began to start to blur, to run together like I was drunk.

    What is going on with me?

    I loaded the tire in my trunk and the two of us headed back to the
stranded Jeep Cherokee. She had put on a video tape and told her girls that
she'd be back very shortly, just sit tight.

    During the ride back, Diane provided me a short explanation of what was
going on....her husband (that she was separated from!) had taken the tire out
of the cargo area several months ago to free up some space to move some yard
supplies and that he forgot to put it back.

    Nice guy.

    So now we're back in the parking lot and I've got the jack out and am
loosening the lug nuts. The sun had just set but there was plenty of twilight,
enough to see by anyway. I couldn't help but steal furtive looks at her as she
watched me change the tire. She was wearing a colorful yellow sundress with
white sandals. She had her sunglasses resting above her forehead. I noticed
that she had been sort of pacing as she talked until she finally said, "Do you
mind if I smoke?"

    I couldn't believe it. First of all, here we were in this big, open
parking lot and she's asking if she can smoke -- I thought it was considerate.
Secondly though, I was about to be treated to one of my favorite indulgences,
another sighting! "No, not at all," I said with a smile two sizes too big.

    Anyway, she continued to slowly pace back and forth as she smoked. I
noticed the conversation died down a little as she took puff after puff. As I
tried to work on the tire, something I was doing must have betrayed me, for
Diane stopped her pacing and knelt down next to me. Her cigarette was only
about half gone and she said, "So tell me," in a soft, sexy voice, "do you
smoke?" Then she started a long puff.

    Oh, God, she was on to me! I don't know how, but she was. The stare she
gave told me that she knew everything about me, fetish and all. I never knew
any woman that was so perceptive as to discover this so quickly. I reached
over and took the cigarette from her hand. It was really my only option. I
took a normal puff and she watched as I inhaled. The whole scene was
reminiscent of Julie Roberts in the movie "My Best Friend's Wedding" where she
is smoking in the hallway of a hotel and she asks the passing concierge, who
asks her to refrain, if he smokes. Anyway, they share her cigarette, then he
passes on. I had no intention of passing on though, not after this exchange.

    I sensed that a wall was quickly coming down between us. Next thing I
knew, she was asking me over to her house for dinner the following night, to
sort of say thanks for helping with the tire. But there was more to it than
that - much more. I felt that she somehow gained control of the moment and was
suddenly very at ease in my presence. We shared one more of her cigarettes as
she told me some more about herself. Diane had been through two tough
relationships, married relationships. She said that she wasn't ready to start
dating men again as she looked me in the eye. We got silent for a moment and
just sat on the asphalt leaning up against her truck smoking to the backdrop
of a darkening azure sky. Her story was sad yet overpoweringly compelling. She
was a sweet girl that had only wanted to please her men by giving what gifts
she'd been given. Yet she'd gotten hurt. Somehow smoking was woven into the
fabric of the story but I was still a little confused. I wanted to ask a
thousand questions but was stopped when I noticed a small tear coming from her
eye. She quickly wiped it and smiled back at me offering no further
explanation. At that moment, that wonderful moment looking back into her eyes,
I felt that I loved her.

    The End

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