She is One Kinky Ghost: She is Here - She Never Said Goodbye

By Sean Loren Cairns, Ana Maria Cairns and Laura Finnegan

This story is true. Ana and Sean's kinky paths cross at midlife. The union is fiery. Cavorting lustily through two decades of wedded love, each samples outside. When Ana's health snatches her away, Sean mourns deeply – but two days later Ana, having learned of Sean's vile act, bespeaks her rage with a foul deposit in their foyer. Refusing to pass through the white light she makes a long sequence of tweaks showing her loving intent to stay with Sean until his Spirit joins her.
Apparently closely monitoring Sean's affairs Ana actively spurns several ladies before ushering in Laura, her human avatar. As is told vividly, Ana's ardent desire to savor erotic sexual encounters vibrated in her Spirit.
In Part One, Sean highlights the pathways of himself, Ana and Laura until they converge. Then he narrates the diary that he kept – erotic and emotional connections with the two and an extended stream of Ana's signs tricks, warnings, deposits, materializations, dematerializations and onscreen printings.
In Part Two Laura recounts erotic orgies with Sean and Ana. In time Ana makes Laura her confidante, announcing her mission with this book to show the closeness of the Physical and Spirit worlds. To this end she passes the messages that Laura has transcribed, on occasion typing herself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sean Loren Cairns
• Release date: Jan 11, 2017
• ISBN: 9781912022533

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CONTENTS

Part One

She is Here – She Never Said Goodbye

by Sean Loren Cairns

Introduction

She Is Here

The Local Mixer

Our Beginning

Our Confirmation

Retracement

Fran

Flesh Call

The Junction

A Visit to Ana’s Youthful Days

Ana’s Move to California

My Belief in Psychic Phenomena

Our Mutual Belief in Psychic Phenomena

Theory of the Human-Spiritual Regime

Some of Our Life Together

The Decline of Ana’s Health

Ana’s Final Trek in the Earth Plane

Ana’s Initial Action in the Spirit Plane

Episode 1

Ana’s Dispatches Across the Divide

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 5

Episode 6

Episode 7

Episode 8

Episode 9

Episode 10

Sexual Interlude

Laura’s Arrival on the Scene

Laura and Ana

The Dialogue Begins

Ana’s Possession of Laura

Older Folk’s Sex

Ana Brings Old Friends of Laura

More Signals From Ana

Sexual Threesomes

Ana’s Affair Bombshell

Moving On

Heading For the Barn

Transition with Laura

Painting Episode

My First ‘Tee Hee’

Ana’s New Tricks

Part Two

by Laura Finnegan and Ana Maria Cairns

Unraveling The Shroud Between

Life and Spirit

Introduction

Chapter One

Howl-O-Ween

Chapter Two

Ghost Matchmakers

Chapter Three

Earthly Plans

Chapter Four

Ghostly Opportunities

Chapter Five

OurFirst Date

Chapter Six

Yikes! What Happened

Chapter Seven

Before Becoming A Ghost

Chapter Eight

Photographs Don’t Lie!

Chapter Nine

Goodbye Suburbs

Chapter Ten

Hello New York

Chapter Eleven

What Stars Have To Say

Chapter Twelve

Hitler and Dark Forces

Chapter Thirteen

Closing Off Psychic Portal

Chapter Fourteen

Ghostly Advice

Chapter Fifteen

The Land And Sea Beckon

Chapter Sixteen

Wariness Spot On

Chapter Seventeen

Saved From Going Over The Cliff

Chapter Eighteen

Smoking Ghosts

Chapter Nineteen

Psychic Realm

Chapter Twenty

Alpha Female Ghost

Chapter Twenty One

Joy Ride Stolen Car

Chapter Twenty Two

Lo and Behold – Amends

Chapter Twenty Three

Pets Rekindle Agony of Past

Chapter Twenty Four

Sai Baba

Chapter Twenty Five

Enters My Body While Conscious

Chapter Twenty Six

Jewelry Manifestations

Chapter Twenty Seven

Jewelry Comes and Goes

Chapter Twenty Eight

Five Years Gone By

Chapter Twenty Nine

Futures Maybe

Part One

By Sean Loren Cairns

She is Here – She Never Said Goodbye

INTRODUCTION

Sean Loren Cairns reflects on His Kinky Ghost.

When I first laid eyes on her beautiful face, the ground did not tremble a la Hemingway in For Whom The Bell Tolls. Perhaps a tremor the 2nd time. But the 3rd was charm when she intimated a welcoming urge. And so we became a unit. Twenty six years later I agonized through her desperate struggle to remain in the Physical realm. When she finally gave way, I grieved intensely thinking she was gone forever.

Feel my combination of consternation and relief when two days later she evinced her presence and her rage by depositing a small ball of human shit on the tile in the entryway as I walked through. There soon followed a sequence of friendly – loving – demonstrations. So I began a diary recording each event. That was 13 years ago but entries continue.

It wasn’t until 21 months after she passed over when she brought Laura into my life that she announced – via Laura -- the mission she had embraced – to make known the duality of life in the Physical and Spirit world. Since then she has doggedly pleaded for progress and steadfastly bemoaned my on again, off again writing. But at last we, Laura and I are done and Ana can see the object of her mission just ahead.

To give this message substance it seemed to me that the reader must know me, know Laura and – above all else – know Ana. Therefore, I sketch my path through the years on the way to Ana. And I briefly portray the kaleidoscope that is Laura. I tell what I know of Ana’s path to me. This is greatly embellished by Laura’s recording of the messages she received from Ana. And most importantly both Laura and I present the long stream of manifestations gotten from Ana’s Ghost. Does this fulfill Ana’s mission? That I cannot say – but it does allow Ana to speak from the Spirit realm and this has certainly given her comfort.

She Is Here

If the dead really did communicate with the living, that would be a scientific event as monumental as the discovery of electromagnetic induction, radioactive decay or the expansion of the universe. Laboratories and observatories all over the world would be fiercely competing to understand a new phenomenon. Scientific American, Oct 2006, REVIEWS Scientists on Religion p 94.

The Local Mixer

A pleasant ambiance fills the LM - our local watering hole just down the road from Santa Barbara. Throughout is chatter and laughter; would have been filled with genuine gayness before that sparkling term was corrupted as a euphemism for ‘queer’. Old friends meeting for wine and food, for gossip and cheery exchange. On many nights a small combo accompanies Cindy, a popular, exhilarating local songstress. She performs on a small, temporary wooden floor panel – which serves for dancing after her skits. This being the good old days before the blight of herpes – followed by the incursion of deadly AIDS – the LM fosters new pairings of opposite sex of all combinations of married and single. The participants are rewarded with ecstatic couplings – short and extended. Needless to say, it is a popular place.

I am Sean Loren Cairns. I enjoyed LM many times with my wife, Fran, & friends. So I go in on an evening late in 197X, expecting nothing unusual. Something new, however, presents itself. A new hostess greets us. She is strikingly attractive – I think she is perhaps in her 20s – too young – I am in my 40s -- to be a possible addition to the list of ladies with whom I am enjoying sideline couplings. So in response to her dazzling smile, I make some innocuous, suggestive comment but think, A shame she’s too young for me. So the evening transpires without an inkling that I have just met the fantastic woman who will be at my side for the rest of my life – in Physical and Psychic form.

Entering LM a few weeks later I again encounter the captivating hostess. Her seemingly pristine, demure beauty jars me. This time I notice a deep & lovely tan triggering the thought She’s been basking in Hawaii. I ask Where did you acquire that lovely tan? In my backyard, she replies coyly. Immediately I want to find out all about that setup, but with Fran waiting for me just inside there is not time for curious exploration. So I quickly ask her name; Ana, she replies without enlargement. So I walk on tucking that pleasant piece of information into my private memory bank. Throughout the evening on occasion I admire her regal posture, beauty and bearing as she ushers guests to tables. She impresses me as being much older than I thought initially.

My next visit to LM provides a full exposure to Ana. The date is January 7 197X. That I remember because the visit comes after the annual meeting of the Lodge’s Board. I had just turned down the offer to be the Principal – thinking that my managerial duties at the Consultancy – 65 miles away – would make arranging Board meetings too difficult. In retrospect that snap judgment was not sound, but the consequence is of little import now. After the meeting fellow Board member Sherm asks me to accompany him to LM for a nightcap.

When we arrive, Ana has ended her evening’s work. She is located at the bar sharing drink and conversation with some male LM clientele. Ere long I position myself beside her and we engage in conversation. After being a long-time nurse in NYC, she came to California 5 years ago. In her early days here she continued her nursing profession. Fairly recently she opted for a change of life, abandoning employment as a nurse and undertaking studies at Redlands Univ. leading to a BA in Business. The commute to Redlands being about 100 miles round trip, she arranges her classes on succeeding days and stays overnight in Motel 6. She has taken the hostess job at LM to provide some income while completing her studies.

On the way to our becoming lovers I learn the reason for this metamorphosis in life style. Ana underwent two cancer operations – right breast followed by lymph nodes. Told each time the end was nigh, she proved them wrong – she survived and is leading a fairly normal life. She appears robust – only close inspection reveals the swollen right hand protruding out of her right sleeve. Later I find the entire right arm is permanently swollen due to the lymph edema that results when the lymph nodes are removed. And her right chest is stripped to skin over bones – as if the local butcher chopped off her breast and all surrounding flesh.

When I tell her of my consulting and advising gig she begins to talk of her studies at Redlands Univ. Quickly, we home in on what she refers to as a business math course – taught by an adjunct instructor. The core description is weird – a complex contrivance to make 4th grade addition appear to be a sophisticated mathematical procedure. I conclude that Redlands arranges to collect tuition by giving degree credit in a veiled sham. Ere long I manage to steer the conversation into a more sociable vein. As the evening wears on, I become aware that a chap whom I know who has quit his job as a programmer and is trying to sell computer services to local businesses is hovering wolfishly over Ana. She has apparently attended a few meetings with potential clients under the guise of secretary in attendance. She signals very clearly that his amorous advances are not fruitful – but attention from me is welcome. Not long after, I depart LM alone with a burgeoning glow.

Our Beginning

A few days later I call Ana and ask her if she will meet me for dinner in Los Angeles. Without hesitation she answers, Yes. She agrees to meet me at a Ramada Inn, the location of which I give her. At the appointed hour I walk through the Inn and Ana is not to be seen. Based on her strongly expressed interest, I am sure she intends to show. Mentally accounting for her absence I remember another Ramada Inn on the I-405 about 15 miles away near the LA airport. Speeding there, when I enter the lobby my eyes behold a vision that is as clear to me now as it was 38 years ago. Sitting regally in a chair with her hallmark perfect posture and the profile of Egyptian Queen Nefriti is Ana. Thrilled by this image I hurry across the room to a mutually shared greeting that acknowledges the magnetic attraction enfolding us.

Our greeting is a silent confirmation of the commitment we are making. First we check in at a nearby Howard Johnson, where I have reserved a room. Leaving Ana’s car there, we go to a restaurant close by and begin the evening’s festivities. Ample potions of wine are followed by food and dancing. Stimulated by alcohol, flirting and anticipation, Ana dances provocatively – she arches her back and shakes her chest up close to mine, as if she were tantalizing by shaking large breasts. Even though her bosom is small, the effect is electrifying. Even after I learn that her bosom consists of one small breast on the left plus an ersatz pad on the right, her shake em move is always inviting.

When we retire to the room, things do not proceed as expected. Instead of disrobing and engaging in amorous, passionate clasping and intimate coupling, Ana yo-yos in and out of our embraces with whimpered mumblings. After perhaps a half hour of this strange and seemingly timorous tomfoolery I say, It is late and I have to work tomorrow. Either get in bed and complete our evening – or go home. With that she gathers her travel bags and departs, leaving me to puzzle on the reason for the abrupt U-turn in her behavior.

After a week’s puzzling on Ana’s odd behavior, my curiosity drives me to call her. Since I harbor no animosity, my approach is simple; Did you arrive home safely? She simply answers, Yes. and nothing further. Continuing with small talk she comes through warm and welcoming. Her rejection notwithstanding, I conclude she is keenly attracted and wants to develop a robust romantic relationship. I propose a meeting the next week. She readily and enthusiastically agrees. This time things go even better than I had hoped. After a pleasant time of wining, dining, flirting and dancing, back in the hotel room we continue our urge to merge in passion.

After a heated session of kissing and tonguing, clothing removal begins. Removing Ana’s blouse reveals the reason for her whimpering withdrawal. Her right arm is bloated – the medical term is lymph edema. But more startling is her right side from shoulder to waist – bare skin stretched over protruding ribs. She is wearing a red brassiere – the right cup supporting a plastic lump that matches the left breast in size. She appeals to me, I hope you will not be put off by my somewhat unsightly right side – the result of my two life-saving cancer operations. Last time we met I could not bring myself to let you see this. I am deeply attracted to you and I would so like for everything to be perfect for you. Please, take me as I am! After a moment’s hesitation my acceptance is confirmed by clasping her to me before removing her remaining clothes – but not the bra. Now nude, I say nothing about her scars as we embrace passionately in bed. To my breathtaking surprise she soon rolls me on my back, rolls down between my legs and slides my cock into her mouth. There is no substitute for experience – my most urgent desire served with exquisite expertise. As she massages the member alternately with tongue and deep throat, my pleasure reaches to heights never before attained – her entire body stiffens with an orgasm. So I control myself for a time to derive vicarious ecstasy from her erotic pleasure, grabbing my sexual pleasure only after feeling her come intensely three or four times. Completion was exquisite – she swallows and caresses my throbbing member in her mouth to total satisfaction. My mind rejoices with the thought, My fantasies have materialized -- I have found the jewel of a lifetime. I think back now in nostalgic bliss recalling another 2600 thrilling climaxes.

Thus begins the intertwining of our bodies – and souls. Our bodily coupling is to be severed 27 years plus two months later when Ana passes through to the Spirit world. But the kinship of our spirits continues steadily onward, and I can only speculate what waits in the future. Since her passing Ana repeatedly communicates her opinions and wishes. (The custom is to refer to the unseen entity signaling from the unknown as a Spirit. Since there is no doubt that this Being is Ana, I acknowledge that certainty by referring to her by name.) The evidence shows that Ana, and other Spirits active at the divide, do on occasion reach through and steer events in our bodily regime. Certainly, Ana has manipulated my female companionship in directions that she deems desirable. After steering Laura and I together, she keeps up a remarkable communication with her – much livelier than with me.

Messages from Ana triggered the writing of this memoir. A central theme of her transmissions is: Write about me!! Tell the world what I have done and am doing. My goal is to lay bare the connection between the Physical and the Spiritual world. Together we can dispel the darkness that surrounds the completion of the physical body’s journey – let people know that the soul or essence of that being now becomes a member of the Spirit world. All of the loved ones, acquaintances, enemies who passed over earlier are there to greet and deal with you. And I say you because you are still you. All knowledge gotten in the Physical world is retained – plus your Spirit neighbors can tell you anything you want to know about what your associates in the Physical world concealed from you. Furthermore, you can be an unseen sightseer of the folks behind. Now, a new life begins; new commitments and responsibilities are acquired. New knowledge is acquired through studies much like in the Physical – with a major advantage. All knowledge is immediately accessible. Sort of an eternal instant Google is at your fingertips. In addition on occasion you can reach back through the veil and have contact with some members of the Physical world. Help me achieve this great addition to human understanding!

Our Confirmation

Once Ana and I make the total connection, there is no stopping. We are both dedicated to meet as often as possible. Basically, this means that we meet once each week north of Los Angeles. Our bonding is like a tongue and groove connector – complete intersection across the board. Our views on all aspects of life run along in parallel. I suppose one could say that Ana shapes her responses to suit my indications and expressions and carefully directs her conversational leads to not clash with my biases. Because she is deeply smitten, this may be partially true. But we match. Our intelligence levels are similar. Our views on politics mesh. Both are strongly inclined to wine substantially and to dine with gusto, but at controlled levels. That matches our mutual intentions to keep the body in good shape. And overriding all is mutual dedication to uninhibited sexual enjoyment and fulfillment. Ana ecstatically enjoys extended oral sexual exchange. Capping off her unreserved enjoyment and fulfillment from fellatio – giving head -- she caters to my titillating anticipation, suggesting that we give her the nickname, BJ.

Retracement

Long before I become a Consultant – upon arrival for a Corporate position in CA 57 years ago, I am introduced to complete sensuality by Phoebe, a fantastically beautiful, luscious woman in Los Angeles. We meet at our work place. She builds a mental pedestal and puts me on it. Although both are married with children, her moral posture is steeped in California ways. So with minor prodding she pulls me out of my conscientious tunnel. She is the most fully involved fornicator I ever had the good fortune to have go after me. However, our first bedding is a disaster – I am so awed I cannot perform. But she is committed. After some much needed coaching, I am able to perform to her satisfaction – although she reminds me from time to time that I am just making the grade. So she says, she is accustomed to hearing her bell ring while ramming her vagina onto her husband’s unusually large cock. The reward is a rainbow of colors when she lets go with him. In 40 some years of coupling I probably create only a few flashes.

When she becomes aware, my first wife, Jan, disapproves so strongly of my amour that she evicts me and files for divorce. She comes to greatly regret this frenzied action – and makes many efforts to reverse it. My previous declaration, If you ever kick me out of the house, you will never get me back into it! stands firm. I was yearning to be set free!

Fran

After a frolicsome 6 months in LA, my job moves me to the Bay Area south of SFO. Successful in LA, I am promoted to a position with greater salary, authority and prestige. As a bachelor in SFO the pleasure and gratification of lively coupling with an evolving group of winsome, sensual women is intoxicating. With a plethora of nubile ladies anxious to please, my social life is deliciously delightful. However, haunting my consciousness is the plight of my children. Twice monthly I spend the weekend in LA entertaining them and looking after their welfare. Their house has sunk to the level of a sty. Their mother, Jan, falls into the alcoholic habit of her mother and sister and copulates regularly with her clodhopper gardener.

The bonus from each bimonthly visit is a carnal tryst with Phoebe. That exotic, erotic woman is married to a ferociously jealous barbarian embodied in the form of Adonis. His overwhelming allure to girls metastasized a menacing egomania – I will kill any man who makes advances on the woman I have chosen! His wild & malicious fixation, although worrisome, is a fortuitous obsession because it prevented me from marrying Phoebe – as was our secret plan at the time.

Now go back with me to the week before Thanksgiving 1963. That week a major moment in my life is preceded by an eternally-recorded, historical tragedy: John F Kennedy is assassinated in Dallas. With most US businesses closed, Monday is spent watching on TV the somber, sad funeral – the poignant picture of tiny John Jr saluting his Father’s coffin as the caisson rolls toward Arlington is etched forever in my mind. My most frequent SFO squeeze, Mela, sits beside me throughout.

The following Wednesday eve finds me landing in LA – to relish a dinner with my children and enjoy two erotic nights with Phoebe. Returning home on Sunday eve, I am seated in the front-row aisle seat of a nearly empty plane’s business class section. An attractive lassie wearing a remarkably broad-brimmed lavender hat comes thru the door. After a momentary survey of the otherwise empty cabin, saying not a word, she daintily tiptoes over my feet and sits beside me in the window seat. Most intriguing behavior, I think, as I quickly read her name from the ticket in her hand. Before either can say a word, a stewardess stops beside us and says to her, You have a tourist class ticket and must move back to that section. Wordlessly, she tiptoes back into the aisle and walks to the rear of the plane.

I had seen her with her parents preparing to board. Time revealed to me later, that in their regular PM imbibing they ply Fran generously with martinis, which her addictive DNA relishes. And so her carnal juices are flowing -- she, being a ripe, young, very attractive divorcee, relishes savoring erotic fruits snatched readily from life’s tree. At home in San Mateo Fran’s phone number is readily obtained from the Yellow Pages. And ere long, we are reaping the ecstasy available to two, healthy, shapely, erotically inclined bodies.

Xmas/New Year’s Eve I am again in LA. Daytime is spent with my children and erotic nights with Phoebe – she is now separated from her husband in her futile effort to join me in wedded bliss. I recall a temper tantrum completely cut off a joyful year end and Phoebe is barely speaking to me when I drive her back to her apartment New Year’s Day.

Back home relishing Fran’s --& Mela’s – amorous, considerate (& hopeful?) affections, I take stock. The ugly truth is that Phoebe cares little about how my children fare. And to continue with her dooms them to wallow in the cruddy morass their mother, Jan, is maintaining. My gnawing conscience demands that I rescue them. Action must absolutely be taken.

So mentally bidding adieu to still pouting Phoebe, shortly after Xmas, I propose to Fran. After Fran’s hasty, Yes, we pick out an engagement ring on Valentine’s Day at – of all places – Macy’s, and are married close to St Pat’s Day. A honeymoon in Hawaii is followed by a bumpy adjustment to cohabitation.

Not much later comes a major adjustment, to which Fran, bless her, adapts readily and graciously. Daughter Theba turns the sting of the selfish wasp hidden behind her innocent face onto her mother. So Jan cannot cope with her and passes her on to Fran and me. Spurred by the rebellion boiling within her, Theba seeks out trouble-making girls for friends. Fortunately, we manage to smoothly squelch those relationships. But Theba’s total selfishness extends beyond choosing companions to demonstrate her self-indulging defiance. If she will tell my attorney of the plight of Carla, Joe & Matt groveling in Jan’s pig sty, that is the key to rescuing them. But Theba refuses!! She has absolutely no compassion for her siblings. Pull up the ladder, mate, I’m aboard.

But the trigger is pulled not long after. On a visit to LA strolling in a park on an afternoon with my three hapless children, Carla says to me plaintively, Daddy, I want to live with you. I say, You can, but you must help me save the boys. So soon I take her to my attorney, and after she is closeted with him for about an hour, the clock strikes twelve. After appropriate representations by him, I drive to LA and load the beleaguered three – and their minimal belongings – into my car and we head north. I still remember one of the boys becoming carsick as we drove by Palo Alto bound for the apartment building that I had bought in San Mateo. From that time on Fran and I shepherd them through El Hi and – all but Matt -- graduation from University.

Although my performance is rated very satisfactory, after five years – and an offer of a business professorship at Stanford -- I accept a higher level management position in NYC. To make this move Fran gives up her very successful career as a fashion designer – producing her own dress line for a clothing manufacturer in SFO. Looking back, I greatly admire and am deeply touched by her sacrifice to take on raising four children who are not her own. This action is made more palatable to her by the mutual adoption of her and Matt. She is a wonderful Mother to all but she comes to regard Matt as her own sibling. This feeling replaces the lack of children from us – because of my vasectomy a few years earlier after the fourth child.

We are in Connecticut for four years. Although Ana is a nurse at Lennox Hill Hospital all that time – and gains some notoriety for establishing a NYC emergency service, our paths do not cross. The Spirits are saving that star-crossed meeting until a later day. During the last six months I leave my job in NYC and establish a software company -- triggered by an opportunity for a contract with an oil company in the Middle East. When I merge that company with a similar start-up in the mid-continent we move to that location. We remain there for two years until I accept a Consultancy with a firm in California.

Flesh Call

Fran is a delightful partner, always pleasant, inclined to over imbibe and as delighted with oral sex as I. That compatibility notwithstanding, before long I again respond to the lure of variety in female coupling. Phoebe dispelled all my guilt feelings from adultery. So before long, I am again enjoying erotic moments with Mela. Having failed in her hope to wed me, she is for a short time bitter and unavailable. Ere long, her pique passes and she again welcomes sharing joyful passion with me. After a year Phoebe recovers from the shock of my abandoning our chancy romance and once more gladly accepts erotic moments in close embrace. My job in SFO, and later in NYC, requires frequent travel throughout the US, Mexico and Europe. Announcing an early departure or a late arrival – or arranging a one-day stopover -- conveniently allows fitting in such delightful visits. In NYC – and later in LA – home is over an hour’s travel from my office, so on occasion I work late and stay in town – providing an alternate release for hanky-panky. In LA my consulting requires conducting technical seminars -- often week-long out of state or country. These also provide occasions for adulterous assignations.

Thus, arranging a series of rapturous trysts with my newly found lover, BJ, is affected simply by changing the focus of an established life pattern. During Easter Week in ‘7X with an unannounced vacation, I teach a phantom course in Phoenix. BJ and I spend the week frolicking on Oahu. This most joyous time cements our relationship and firms up our growing unspoken mutual resolve to be together.

For me this attraction evolves from a gnawing angst to part from Fran. Blaming her carelessness for the death of my younger son, Matt, leads to an aversion to even touch her. She drops him off in the market parking lot knowing that he will immediately walk across Oxnard Boulevard to the carnival just beyond during rush hour. There is no stop light, so even fully alert, this is a hazardous action. With the allowance that I had given him that morning burning a hole in his pocket, his attention is lax. He is fixated on throwing balls and winning another two glasses, as he had done the day before. A car driven by a young girl hurls him over the top, landing on his head on the concrete. That the girl does not even apply her brakes – which she surely would have done if the animal coming into her lane were a dog – will always be a bitter thought. After two days on life support with a flat line, two MDs give the distressing diagnosis – hopeless. I go to the hospital, hold his hand, say good bye and tell the attendant to pull the plug. Matt is gone.

After our Hawaii trip BJ and I spend one night a week together. Each visit adds to my hankering to be with her full time. Ere long I find myself saying, She will continue to focus on me for only so long, and then this lyrical time will be over. The thought of her parting is not acceptable so each day I move closer to a final rupture with Fran. On the weekend that I make up my mind to move in with BJ, Fran and I play bridge with another couple on Sunday night. The women’s conversation covers the breakup of a couple they know. One of them says, Once he began to talk about leaving, I thought it was just malarkey. I think to myself, You will be surprised! I have said not a word about the possibility of splitting, even though many know of my angst over Fran’s dereliction with Matt.

The Junction

The details escape me but sometime on the following Thursday or Friday I call Ana to ascertain that she will welcome me should I show up on her door step with my small bag of clothes and my service kit. She says, I will be delighted to have you as my housemate and lover. Unspoken is her strong desire and expectation that I will one day be her husband. So on Friday afternoon, XXX 6