Can't Stop Loving You by Peggy Webb

ways to work out,
Helen.”
    “Why don’t you try some of them, then?”
    “You want to know one of my favorites?”
    “No.”
    “My favorite workout is making love. Did I
ever tell you making love for an hour is the equivalent of jogging
five miles?”
    Except for the color that crept into Helen’s
face, she showed no sign of being flustered. Matt had to admire
her. She was as good an actress offstage as she was on.
    And he knew full well she was acting. He’d
been with her too long not to understand her moods.
    “Why don’t you tell that to someone who is
interested, Brick? Your fiancee, for instance?”
    Helen lifted herself out of the pool and
reached for her towel.
    “I’m ready for that massage now, Matt.”
    Matt stood up. As much as he hated to see
what was happening between two people he really liked, he had no
choice but to do Helen’s bidding. After all, she was his sole
employer now.
    He looked in Brick’s direction. “Take care of
yourself,” he said.
    Brick merely nodded.
    Just before Matt followed Helen through the
broad double doors, he looked back at the pool. Brick was still in
the deep end, treading water.
    o0o
    Brick decided he might have to tread water
the rest of his life. He was certainly in over his head, and it was
all his fault.
    Helen had every right to be mad. He’d acted
like a fool at lunch, hanging on Barb’s every word, hovering over
her like a goose over a lost gosling.
    What had possessed him?
    A coward. That’s what he was.
He had
taken the path of least resistance. Somehow it was easier to play
out the game than to confront Helen with
his
truth.
    He hefted himself out of the pool and shook
the water out of his hair. He felt waterlogged. Burying his head in
the towel, he massaged his hair. He hadn’t wanted to swim in the
first place. He’d just wanted to be near Helen.
    The doors to the gym opened once more, and
Barb came through. In her hot-pink swimsuit and backless high
heels, she looked like a pinup girl from one of those old World War
II posters.
    “Hi ya, Brick. Where’s Matt?”
    “Matt?”
    “Yeah, Matt.”
    “He’s gone to give Helen a massage.”
    “Oh...”
    Barb plopped herself by the side of the pool
and wrapped her arms around her knees. She looked like a forlorn
little girl whose lollipop had been stolen.
    “The water’s nice,” he said. “Aren’t you
going in?”
    “Nah. I don’t think so.” Barb inspected her
long red fingernails, then looked up and contemplated the skylights
for a while. “Do you know when he’ll be coming back?”
    “Who?”
    “Matt.
Jeez, Brick. Sometimes you
can be so dense.”
    Brick came around the side of the pool and
plopped down beside her.
    “You got all dressed up in that outfit to
come down here and see Matt?”
    “Bingo. Give the man a cigar.” Barb clapped
her hands, then folded them once more around her knees. “We’ve been
seeing each other on the sly.”
    Things were worse than Brick had thought. Not
only had he put his own life in a tangle, but he’d also complicated
the lives of two very fine people. He reached over and patted
Barb’s knee.
    “I’m sorry, Barb. I’ve been so wrapped up in
my own problems, I didn’t take the time to notice anybody
else.”
    “That’s all right, Brick.”
    “No. It’s not all right.” He stood up. “It’s
time to straighten out this mess.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “Tell Helen the truth.”
    “About us?”
    “Yes. Why should you and Matt have to sneak
around pretending, just because I can’t get my act together?”
    “You’d do that for me?”
    He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
    “For me and you both, Barb.”
    o0o
    Helen lay on her stomach with her face
pressed into her crossed arms. Her head was wrapped turban style,
and a long fluffy towel was draped loosely over her body.
    Matt stood with his back to the door, bent
over Helen. Brick could hear the soft splat of his hands against
her naked back.
    It was time.
    Taking a deep