As I was driving yesterday, the song on the radio flashed my mind back like the Enterprise going into warp drive. The song, the multi-octave range of the voice, its sweetness combined with its power. Theresa did the song even better than the original artist. It was one of her signature pieces.
I suppose the song hit me so hard and sent me reeling back because like then, I’m in a melancholic, reflective frame of mind these days. Then, it was a woman, too. She continued to reject my studied advances even though I knew she welcomed them. And she did eventually come around. If anything, when Marty knows what he wants, he is persistent.
I met Theresa in a European ski club. She was definitely a torch singer. Her voice was magnetic, and the fact she had a stunning face didn’t hurt the attraction one bit either. She was English, very solidly built, shoulder length dark hair with eyes the color of Yorkshire coal. I won’t bore you with the courting rituals, just know that they worked. Which was interesting because Theresa did not screw around on the road. She loved her husband deeply, and was devoted to her vocation, so wandering off the path so to speak was a very unusual experience for her. But for several days and nights that week she did.
Poor Robert! He had recently moved to the West Coast, and now we would see each other and play together but once per year. And here was I, abandoning our traditional pub crawling adventures to seduce and be seduced. He was forced to come up with his own play activities. Robert, of course, well understood.
Each evening I would catch Theresa’s last set at the Club which would be followed by a wild night of sex and wine in her room. I so delivered on the promises she yearned for and couldn’t find at home. And her pillow breasts, sweet, thick lips, and hungry body provided the sexual respites I keenly wanted and needed. We craved what each could deliver, there, and at that time. All through the witching hours of the dark alpine night and through the morning we would have at each other.
Then I would finally arise, return to my room, get ready and meet Robert and the others on the mountain for lunch and a drink, before an afternoon of hard skiing. At the best of times I could barely keep up with him. His technique and finesse were far superior to mine. But I was fit and my legs were strong , so I could stay with him and the lead group throughout the day. But not this year. My lack of sleep through the week hobbled me on the mountain. It made Robert’s hearty laugh all the more penetrating as he watched me struggle to keep up. I was the butt of his ribald jokes all through every dinner as he inquisitioned me on what happened through the prior night. My silence and knowing, Cheshire cat smile drove him crazy.
Finally the week was done. I was to leave and Theresa’s gig was up. We never delved into each other’s hearts. We dared not. The most hidden part of our lives and souls were not to be exposed. She made me promise to never try to contact her. It was just too dangerous she said. For reasons I’m not certain I fully appreciated at the time. But I was younger then.
And I’ve kept my promise.