FORTY-FIVE

The words knifed through her. 

Time seemed to stop... she saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing.  Nothing but the ache that strangled her heart. 

My wife, Dorothea....

Cate sat motionless, her stunned brain unable to comprehend what her heart had already recognized.  Through her numbness she could sense what was happening around her, every pair of eyes in the grand room turning in her direction.  Yet she could not react. 

She just sat, her expression frozen and her gaze fixed on the stage.

Cate wasn't the only one taken aback by Jon's sentimental toast.  There was an awkward hesitation before someone volunteered a weak response of "Hear Hear!"  The recovery was followed by a chorus of "To Dorothea!"  and "Salud!" mingled with a smattering of applause.

Onstage Dorothea shifted uncomfortably, not looking at the crowd.  Her cheeks pinkened with a modest blush, then she leaned in to accept Jon's affectionate embrace and buss on the cheek.

Somehow Cate lifted her water glass, tipping it toward the stage before touching it to her lips.  She took a sip, barely taking in a mouthful of the tepid liquid.  The very feel of the moisture nearly caused a wave of nausea as her stomach twisted miserably.  Still, her face remained frozen in a gracious half-smile.

As she watched Jon and Dorothea embrace on the stage, Cate swallowed hard.  In her peripheral vision she saw Carol beaming and applauding.  Jesse and Stephanie exchanged an uncomfortable look, then turned their attention back to their parents.   Cate pulled in a slow, shaky breath, steeling herself for whatever was next to come.

Dorothea stepped back from Jon's embrace, her hand lingering for a moment in his as she pulled away.  She gave him another modest smile and a nod, then raised a demure hand to acknowledge the audience's applause before dismounting the stage.  Jon watched her depart, standing alone in the spotlight.

"Thanks, Dorothea.  For everything."  Jon repeated into the microphone.  She again raised her hand in acknowledgement as she skirted around the edge of the gathering and back to her station.

Jon's smile turned tender as he stood quietly, letting his gaze move slowly once more from table to table.  His expression betrayed his gratitude as his eyes met with those of friends and loved ones, each connection a silent exchange of unique solidarity.  He lowered his lips again to the microphone, his voice soft and husky.

"Yeah.  I'm a lucky, lucky man.  It's been a wonderful ride.  Thank you all, every one of you, for being in my charmed, blessed life."  His voice tightened again and his azure eyes glittered. 

"To another Fifty."  Richie's cheerful drawl from the crowd saved him.  Jon chuckled as he saw his friend extend his glass into the air.

"Hear Hear," Obie echoed.  Again the toast spread, followed by a more vigorous round of applause.  The orchestra picked up the cue, repeating the last stanza of Happy Birthday To You.

Onstage, Jon smirked wryly and raised his wine glass in a salute toward the crowd before downing the remainder of its contests in a gulp.  He gave the Sinatra impersonator a cheeky grin as the man approached him on the stage.

"So, I guess this makes me the second Old Blue Eyes now, huh?"

"Frank" didn't miss a beat, deadpanning in a perfect Sinatra Jersey-growl.  "Yeah, don't push that luck-a yours, Sonny."

Jon tossed his head back with his laughter.  Then he leaned sideways, reaching to return his microphone to its stand.

"Hey!  Who told you to put that back?  I didn't say you were done,"  "Frank" challenged.

Jon cringed, smirking amusedly at his reprimand.  He pulled the mic back to his body.  "I'm not?"

"You're done when I say you're done, Paisan."  "Frank" shook a finger at Jon, the movement cueing the orchestra.  "Now sit down, shut up and listen."  He pointed at a stool positioned just behind where Jon stood.

Jon laughed and nodded.  He hastily stepped back to lower himself onto the stool, clasping his hands around the microphone and dropping them to his lap.  He lowered his head contritely, but couldn't resist a smirk up at the audience. 

Noticing the crowd's amused reaction, "Frank" gave Jon another finger-shake for good measure, before half-turning to face the house.  The orchestra introduction to A Very Good Year swelled majestically behind him.  The impersonator delivered in a dead-on Sinatra croon his rendition of the famous standard.

In 1962

It was a very good year.

It was a very good year, for Carol and John

They were blessed with a son

A little boy in blue

In 1962

The crowd chuckled appreciatively at the creativity of the lyrics.  Across the table from Cate Jon's parents laughed amusedly.  As Carol clapped her hands together with delight John Senior slid his arm around her shoulders.  With his other hand he reached to tousle Romeo's hair, giving the boy an affectionate smile. 

Again Cate felt her tender heart squeeze miserably.  Though just moments ago she had been most uncomfortably the center of attention, she now felt as if she didn't belong here at all, intruding on this intimate family moment.

When Jon was just fifteen

It was a very good year

It was a very good year, for our rising star

He had girls and a guitar

And a really cool car

Everyone knew he'd go far...

Despite her unease Cate's lips curved into a weak smile as she returned her gaze to Jon.  He was clearly enjoying the serenade, a relaxed grin dimpling his soft cheeks and his blue eyes sparkling as he responded to the entertainer.  He didn't seem to realize his faux-pas.  She swallowed again, silently trying to force her disappointment aside for her husband's sake. 

The effort made her heart throb again, this time with equal parts guilt and hurt.  Cate's hands twisted in her lap as she tried not to frown out of frustration with her inability to control her emotions.  Dammit, what was she doing?  She had to let Jon's words go.  This was his night, not hers.  She couldn't let her own insecurity put a damper on Jon's celebration.

She had to get out of this room, away from all these sideways glances and compassionate smiles she could feel even if she couldn't see.  She just needed a few minutes to pull herself together, then she would be fine.

Taking another slow, quiet breath, Cate reached for her bag.  She carefully pushed back her chair and rose.  When John Senior gave her a kind, questioning look, she mouthed a silent "Excuse Me" before turning away from the table.

Cate tried to keep her lips curved into a smile and her eyes down as she weaved through the tables.  She knew if she met a sympathetic gaze she would lose what little facade of composure she was barely holding onto.

It seemed to take an hour, but in less than a  minute she successfully navigated the table-maze and found the small alcove in the club's corner that hid the doors to the restrooms.  At her back she heard the crowd react warmly to the continued Sinatra croon.

Cate sighed with relief when she pushed through the heavy walnut door into the ladies' room.  The sound of the club shut out, she could feel herself breathe, hear her heart beat.  She was thankfully alone. 

She took a couple wobbly steps across the little powder room before sinking onto a velvet-covered bench before a softly-lit vanity mirror.  Momentarily drained by the effort of holding in her emotions, Cate stared blankly at her reflection. 

After a long moment she sighed at the vision she beheld.  Her dress, her hair, and her makeup were still perfect but the happy contentment was gone from her sapphire gaze.  In its place was a stare of wounded melancholy.

Cate frowned as a wave of disgust washed over her.  "GodDAMMIT!" she swore angrily at her reflection, feeling her tears well.  "STOP it!"  Her lower lip trembled despite her admonishment and a drop of moisture rolled down her cheek.  She raised a hand to swipe it away, then fluttered her hand at her eyes in an vain attempt to dry them as she gulped in a pair of deep breaths.

She squeezed her eyes closed, causing a bit more moisture to leak between her lashes.  She concentrated on her breathing, forcing herself to calm.  When she was convinced she had a handle on her emotions she slowly parted her lashes.

"He didn't mean it."  Cate's voice was a soft half-whisper to her reflection, trying to convince it of the excuse.  Again her lip trembled, just a tiny bit.  Cate pulled it between her teeth and bit down, silently warning her self-pity to stop.  After another half-minute she released it.

"It's done. Over."   Cate straightened her posture and glared at herself in the mirror.  "Salute smartly and carry on."

The mantra made the corners of her mouth tip upward.  Cate snorted softly as she shook her head at herself.  She had faced such adversity, dealt with so many hard and ugly and truly horrible things in her life and in her career.  She had always been able to digest, rationalize, and compartmentalize the things that affected her, and to move on and do her job. 

So why was this so hard?  They were just words.  Harmless words.  An innocent slip of the tongue by her husband had her on the verge of breaking down.

Of course it was innocent.

He didn't mean it.

Cate stared at herself for a long time, silently repeating the defense.  Finally she sighed and looked away.  Her gaze lowered to her lap, where her hands curved around her evening bag.

She had to go back out there, and she needed to look normal.  It would be bad enough that everyone would go out of their way to be extra-nice to her the rest of the night; she didn't need anyone to see even a trace of tears.

Cate snapped open her purse and withdrew a small compact case.  She clicked open the little oval, automatically glancing in the illuminated mirror.  Carefully Cate brushed the round pouf across the pressed powder before dabbing it over her cheeks and nose, dulling the shiny streaks caused by the few rogue tears.

A soft buzz from her lap made her jump.  She swore softy, then finished patting her face before putting away the compact and picking up her phone.  The name on the screen made her lips curve a little more.

9:42 PM   So, Slick... Birthday Boy drunk yet?

Cate couldn't stop a soft chortle at the text message.  She was practically able to hear her old friend's sarcastic half-growl as she read the simple question.  She dropped her chin as she moved her manicured fingers over her phone's screen, composing her reply.

9:43 PM  He's well on his way.  You back?

9:44 PM  Around noon.  WTF r u doing texting @ Jons Party?

Cate giggled softly at Danny's half-accusing query.   She typed quickly.

9:46 PM  Ladies room.  Need break from party.

She stared expectantly at the glowing screen, awaiting Danny's reply.  Her still-tender heart gave a grateful little squeeze that she was hearing from him at all; he had been out of the country for the past six months.  Though they had kept in touch as much as possible by e-mail, Cate had missed her almost-daily text chat with her long-time partner and best friend. 

She almost dropped the phone when it began buzzing urgently in her hand.  On the screen appeared a bright image of Danny's grinning face, above the announcement of his incoming call.

"Slick!  What the fuck are ya doin' hiding out in the latrine?  Ain't there a party goin' on?"  Danny's jolly tease made Cate's eyes mist again, this time with grateful emotion. 

"Yeah, well.  You've seen one party, you've seen 'em all."  She chuckled hoarsely.  "What the fuck are you doing calling me?  You should be wrapped up in the sheets with your wife."

"Nah.  She's cookin' me dinner.  Wore her out already."  Cate could envision the cheeky smirk that accompanied Danny's excuse.  "So, what's wrong?"

Cate sighed softly despite herself.  Though she had only uttered three sentences, Danny had picked up on her melancholy mood.  Even if she had only said three syllables, he would have been able to tell something was amiss.  He knew her that well.

"Nothing.  Just tired, is all."

"Yeah, right.  You don't hide in the ladies' room when you're tired."

"Sometimes I do."  Cate felt her lower lip protrude stubbornly with her rebuttal.  "It's nice in here, away from the noise and the crowd.  Gives me a chance to breathe."

"Where's everybody else?"

"Listening to the entertainer.  Sinatra impersonator, a really good one.  Jon's loving it.  In fact, he's onstage with him right now."

"Jon's onstage and you're in the head?" Danny snorted.  "Yeah, and you're trying to tell me nothing's wrong.  Sure."

"Danny, seriously.  I'm just tired.  I was out on an op all week, just came in on the redeye this morning.  It's been a long fucking day."

"Bullshit.  C'mon, Cate.  Spill it."

Cate chuckled softly and sighed again, knowing it was useless to continue to protest.  Danny would just goad her until she broke down.

"Oh.... alright.  Yes, I'm hiding.  You happy now?"

"No.  What happened?"

"I just needed to get away for a few minutes."

"From whom?"

"Everybody."  Cate swallowed as she felt her voice grow husky.  "I just... I couldn't stand everybody watching me."

Danny's voice deepened a bit, his unconscious habit as he closed in on a truth.  Cate smiled wearily as she recognized his anticipatory rumble.  "Watching you why?  What happened?"

Cate snorted.  "I fell on my ass.  What do ya think?"

"I think you're blowing smoke up my ass."  Danny paused.  His tone gentled.  "Cate.  Tell me."

The very timbre of Danny's voice made the lump return to Cate's throat.  Again she felt her heart squeeze miserably.  She sighed heavily.

"It's no big deal.  I just feel... stupid.  For getting upset over something so petty."

"What so-called petty thing upset you?"  There was a subtle steely note behind Danny's gentle voice now, his protective instinct awakened.

"Jon said something... unexpected.  When he was up on the stage, giving his birthday speech.  He didn't mean it.  Hell, Danny... he probably doesn't even realize he said it.  He's had at least four glasses of wine already..."

"What was it, Cate?"

Cate hesitated, having to force the words.  She swallowed again.  "He... he called Dorothea up on the stage, to thank her for putting together the party."

"And?  Didn't she do most of it?  That's what I seem to recall you telling me."

"Yes.  Hell, she did ALL of it."  Cate breathed a half-frustrated sigh.  "Danny, I don't care that he called Dorothea up in front of everybody.  I'm glad he did.  In fact, I kinda told him to."

"So why are you upset?"

"Because... Fuck, it sounds so... jealous."  Cate growled at herself, half-embarrassed.  "And I know I shouldn't be, and I feel like a fucking idiot for being like this."

"Jesus, Cate... WHAT?  Spit it the fuck out!"  Danny's exasperation finally burst through.

"He... He offered a toast to Dorothea.  Thanking her for her role in the party, for their kids, for standing by him all these years..."  Cate stopped to clear her throat.  "It was a beautiful, eloquent toast, Danny.  From the heart."

"And that made you jealous?  Cate, you know the history they share.  It's never bothered you before."

"Danny, he called her his Wife.  Not his 'Ex,' or his 'Former'.... Jon held up his glass and announced 'To my wife, Dorothea."  Cate couldn't hold back a bitter edge to her words.

She could tell from the momentary silence that Danny was as stunned as she had been.  But he recovered more quickly.

"Shit.  And what did you do?"

"What could I do?  Every single person in the room was watching me.  I just sat there."

"At your seat?"

"Yes.  With Jon's kids and his parents.  While he stood up there with a big stupid grin and a glass of wine, holding her hand and toasting her."

Danny let out a low whistle.  "Wow.  Well, I guess I can see why you're a little pissed."

Cate sighed again.  "I'm not pissed, Danny.  Well, maybe I am, a little... but not at Jon.   I'm pissed at myself because I about fucking burst into tears right there at the table."

"You didn't, did you?"

"No.  But it has fucking hard not to.  I sat there and smiled and raised my glass while everybody fucking stared at me.  And then I got the Hell out of there as soon as I could, to pull myself together."

"So you ran off to the ladies room."

"Where the fuck else was I supposed to go?  I'm at the Carnegie Club, Danny.  It's the bathroom, the kitchen, or outside.  And I can't exactly leave... that would look even worse."

"So what are you gonna do now, Slick?  Stay in there all night, hiding?  While the party goes on without you?"  Cate could hear the challenge hidden in his calm question.  She felt her mouth curve despite herself.  He was so good at knowing what she needed, especially when it was a kick in the pants.

"I suppose I could."

"But you won't."

"Maybe I will."

"No you won't.  You're not gonna let all those people think you're weak.  You hate being weak."  His words were tough but his voice was gentle.  If anyone knew the true depth her vulnerability, it was Danny.

"Yeah, I do." Cate sighed.  "But lately... Jesus, Danny.  Lately it just seems like I'm always on the verge of tears.  I'm so..."  She paused, searching for a word.  It didn't come.

"Cate, you're going through a lot.  You and Jon both, with the treatments...  And you're not weak.  You're still as strong as ever, maybe stronger.  You're just softer, is all."

Cate blinked back grateful tears at Danny's gentle compliment.  "I know.  I just... Christ, things have just been so out of control lately.  And I really am tired.  I guess I'm just overreacting to this..."

"No you're not.  You're reacting perfectly rationally.  What Jon said hurt you.  You're processing it.  But you have to move past it, Cate.  Quickly."

"Yeah.  I know.  I'm trying.  But I just... I just can't stand everybody.... pitying me.  And now I'm gonna have to spend the rest of the night getting these sympathetic little smiles and pats on the arm and everybody being all extra-nice to me."

"Yeah, you are.  And that sucks.  But Cate, it is what it is."  Danny chuckled.  "You've put up with worse."

Cate smiled wanly.  "Yeah, yeah.  I know."

"Listen.  Jon didn't do it on purpose.  He's half in the bag.  I'm sure it was just an old habit.  He was married to Dorothea a long time, you know.  And when he's looking out at all those old familiar faces..."

"Uh huh."  Cate sighed resignedly.  "Hell, I don't even think he realized it happened.  He just kept grinning and drinking."

"Well okay then.  You're letting him off the hook, so do the same for yourself."  Danny chuckled before issuing a half-playful command.  "Now cut the pity-party shit and get back out there!  Show those fancy-schmancy rockstar-hanger-on fuckers who the real Wife is!"

His order made Cate giggle.  She smiled gratefully though he couldn't see her.  God, she was glad he had come to her rescue.

"Alright.  I will.  And you... get back to Charity.  I'm sure she's ready to have you all to herself for a few days.  She missed you."

"I know.  It's been a long couple months since that R-and-R in Rio..."  Danny chuckled dirtily as he referenced his wife's trip to meet him in Brazil for a week's vacation in the middle of his assignment.  "She says she's got somethin' new to show me."

"Well then." Cate laughed softly.  "What the fuck are you still doing on the phone?"

Danny's reply was gentle.  "Just making sure you're okay, Slick."

Her heart melted.

"Thanks.  Somehow you always know when I need you."

"I got your back."

"Me too."  Cate smiled.  "Welcome home, Danny."

"Thanks.  Now get out there.  And tell Jon I said Happy Birthday."

"I will.  Love ya, Bro."

"You too."

Cate lowered the phone from her ear and closed the connection.  Again her gaze found her reflection, and she smiled.  Danny was right, as usual.  She had to let it go, move forward with the evening.  This was a celebration, one she was entitled to enjoy as much as the Guest of Honor.

"Okay," Cate breathed to herself.  She carefully patted at her hair, ensuring not a wisp was out of place, before re-applying her lipstick.  After a dainty swipe of perfume on her neck she clipped her purse shut and stood.  Turning before the mirror, Cate smoothed her blue satin skirt, then put on a gentle smile.

Better.

Cate heard the visitor's entrance before she saw it.  A sudden swell of music and chatter poured through the open door, then quickly ceased as the portal shut.  A small smile still ghosting her lips, Cate turned toward the door.

"Oh!  Uh...Cate..."  Stephanie gave her Stepmother an awkward smile. 

Cate ignored the little twinge in her stomach as she easily read the girl's poorly-disguised intent.  Steph had obviously come to check on her. 

"Hey."

"I... um..." Stephanie giggled nervously.  "I figured I better dash in here ahead of the crowd."  She raised her hand to wave a tiny clutch purse.  "You know... Flo..."  Her voice trailed off with her half-hearted excuse.

Cate nodded, her smile softening though again her heart squeezed.  Unfortunately, she did fully understand the sometimes urgent needs of the menstrual cycle.  "Yeah, I know."  She tipped her head toward the door.  "They still going out there?"

"Yeah.  The Sinatra guy's really good."  Stephanie's answer was more sincere as her blonde curls bobbed with her nod.

"Does he still have Jon onstage?"

"Nah.  Dad escaped after that one song.  It was pretty cute."  Stephanie giggled again.  "Now he's wandering around the tables, talking to everybody.  Again."

Cate let out a soft breath.  Good.  Though she was sure Jon had noticed her absence from the table, hopefully he wouldn't be concerned.  She didn't want to face him just yet, until she had a little better handle on her disappointment.

"Okay.  Well..." Cate took a step toward the door.  "I guess I should get back."

Stephanie nodded and moved away from the door, clearing the path.  When Cate stepped up beside her, Stephanie reached for her stepmother's hand.  Cate paused, a little surprised by the contact.

"Cate..."  Stephanie's voice was softly pleading.  "Daddy's a little drunk, you know.  I don't think..."  She hesitated.

Cate stared at Jon's daughter for a beat, taken aback by her half-apology.  Then she gave the girl a grateful smile and a little nod.

"I know, Steph.  It's okay."

"Please don't be mad at him.  Or at Mom."

Cate covered Stephanie's hand with her own and gave it a little pat.  "I'm not."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it... I mean, to upset you."

Cate sighed softly, then brightened her smile.  "Stephanie, it's okay.  I'm not upset."

"Are you sure?"

Cate renewed her fib with another nod.  "I'm sure.  Jon was married to your Mom for a long time.  I'm sure it was just..."  She suddenly lost the will to continue her reassurance.  She sighed softly again.

Stephanie finished the thought for her.  "Force of habit?"

"Yeah."  Cate chuckled huskily.  "Old habits die hard."  She gave Stephanie's hand another pat.  "I'm okay, Steph.  But thanks."

"Well... okay."  Stephanie breathed her own little relieved sigh.  "I'm glad."  She pulled her hand from Cate's and smiled awkwardly.  "Well, umm.... I oughta..."

"Go."  Cate smiled and tipped her head toward the bathroom stalls.  "Mother Nature waits for no woman."  She took a step forward and reached for the door handle.  "I'll see you out there, okay?"

" 'Kay."

Cate nodded her agreement, took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders.  Then she tugged, re-opening the portal to the celebration.

*****

Jon couldn't feel his face, though he was reasonably sure it was still stretched into a wide grin.  His entire head was comfortably warm and abuzz with wine and contentment.  He raised his glass to take another sip of the sweet pale nectar.

He was pretty sure tomorrow morning was going to hurt.  But right now he didn't care.  It was his birthday, he was surrounded by loyal friends and doting family.  Everyone he loved was here, celebrating his charmed life.  And he was going to be damned sure he told every single person in this grand room how much he loved and appreciated them.  

After all, life is too short.

Jon swiveled his head to survey the proximate clusters of partygoers.  Yep, he had already expressed his gratitude at length to everyone standing nearby, and then some.  Jon took another sip of wine as he craned his neck to look beyond his immediate circle.  There were so many great people here... so many memories to share.  Surely he hadn't thanked everyone yet.

Jon's gaze lingered on Dorothea, who was engaged in animated conversation with Mimi and Sister Mary.  He chuckled.  They were undoubtedly hatching another scheme to do good for the less fortunate.  Charitable work had always been Dorothea's passion, one she still actively pursued on her own and with her ex-husband's Foundation.  That was one of the things Jon had always admired about her, her drive to help people.

After watching the trio for a second, Jon's mouth relaxed to a thoughtful half-frown.  There was someone at this party to whom he had barely spoken tonight.  His bright azure gaze drifted away from the Charitable Women, scanning the room.

Not immediately finding the face among the crowd, Jon turned to expand his field of vision.  He again raised his glass, taking the last swallow of tepid wine.  Jon momentarily dropped his eyes to the glass to confirm his sensory suspicion that his glass was empty.  Well, that wouldn't do. 

Glancing around for the usually-hovering waiter who had kept his glass filled throughout the evening, Jon frowned.  Not immediately spying young Dominic, he shrugged.  Apparently he'd have to get this refill himself.

He turned toward the bar, wobbling a bit with the movement.  Jon chuckled, renewing his silent prediction that tomorrow would likely bring a little misery.  But he was having too damned much fun to let that slow him down tonight.  

As he weaved his way toward the bar Jon was distracted by several comments and well-wishes, to which he gladly stopped to respond.  Finally he found a clear path between his location and the source of his desired spirit.  Jon's grin widened when he spied not only a black-tied bartender who would surely refill his glass, but the other person he sought.  She was sitting primly on a high-backed barstool, a half-empty glass of crimson liquid before her.

Jon half-swaggered, half-swayed toward his wife, his blue eyes sparkling and his lips twisted in an affectionate smirk.  Sensing the approach, Cate turned on her barstool to identify the visitor.  She smiled amusedly when she spied her very tipsy husband.

"There you are!"  Not waiting for her response Jon wobbled close to Cate, leaning in to cover his mouth with hers.  Cate let out a startled Mmmmph! then giggled against his kiss.  She pulled back, separating their lips with a soft smack.

"You've-a been hiding from me!"  Jon half-slurred his playful admonishment, wagging a finger at his bemused wife before reaching past her to set his wine glass clumsily next to hers on the bar.

"No I haven't," Cate argued mildly.  "I've been right here for the last half-hour.  In plain sight."  She reached up to wipe a trace of bronze lipstick from Jon's flushed cheek.  "Hmmm.  Not my shade," she observed playfully.

"Yeah, there's been alotta kissin',"  Jon countered with a wry grin.  "Thass prolly Davey's."

Cate snorted a soft laugh at his cheerful comeback.  "I hardly think so."

" 'Kay, mebbe not."  Jon shrugged.  "It's my birthday.  Girls wanna kiss me, so I let 'em."

"Well, okay,"  Cate gave her husband a gentle smirk.  "I guess, since it's your birthday, I'll let you off the hook this time."

"You can kiss me in the car aaallllll the way home."  Jon grinned and waggled his eyebrows.  "And then summore AT home."

"Oh yeah?"  Cate chuckled as Jon captured her hand and pulled it against his chest.  "Mmm.  We'll see if you're in any shape to be kissed by the time I pour you into the car at the end of the night."

"Baby, you know I will be."  Jon gave Cate a sexy lopsided grin as his voice dropped to a seductive growl.  "I'ma gonna take you home and get you outta that pretty blue dress...."  He chuckled huskily and leaned in closer to Cate's ear.  "An' I'ma gonna love you all night long, Baby.  'Til the sun comes up." 

He pulled back enough to give her a saucy wink.  "An' I might even sing that song you like for you."

"Oh?  And which one would that be?"  Cate curled her fingers against the soft cotton of Jon's dress shirt, curving her hand lightly over his firm pectoral muscle.  She smiled at his drunken silliness.  Jon would undoubtedly serenade her, but she was confident he wouldn't see the sunrise.

"You know."  Jon leaned in again, rasping sexily in her ear.  When I look in your eyes... I can feel the fire..."

Cate felt her cheeks heat as her body automatically responded.  She chortled quietly when Jon pulled back and gave her a smug grin.

"Well if you promise to sing for me... I think we can work something out."

Jon pulled her hand from his chest to his lips, pressing a kiss against her palm.  "Think I can promise that... For my gorgeous, sexy, naked Wife."

Cate's heart squeezed painfully at his endearment, though the sensation was immediately followed by a wave of shame.  Why the fuck was she still letting this bother her?  Was she now going to cringe every time Jon called her his wife?

She hid her reaction with a tease.  "Who says I'll be naked?"

"Ohhhhh, Right!"  Jon nodded and winked again.  "Yeah, leave the stockin's ON, Baby.  Thass fuckin' hot."  His sentiment was more comical than sexy, delivered in his boozy half-slur.

It made Cate laugh, chasing away her veiled melancholy.  As silly as he sounded, it was clear from Jon's amorous attention that he had eyes only for her.  So let it GO, she silently reminded herself again.

"Okay, I'll leave them on, if that's what you want.  The heels too?"

"Fuck yeah."  Jon grinned and leaned forward, touching his forehead against Cate's.  "But we canna go home yet.  Party's still goin'.  You wanna dance?"

Cate giggled softly.  "You sure you're in shape to dance?  You've had a little bit of wine tonight."

"So you can lead.  Or hold me up.  Or whatever."  Jon pulled his face back and turned his head toward the bar.  His empty glass had been stealthily replaced by a fresh, full one.  "And here's a little bit more of wine."  He grinned and reached for the drink.

"Okay, Baby.  But let's wait for a slow song to dance to," Cate agreed.  "You might hurt yourself if we do anything too fast."

"Hey!  I got moves!"

"Yeah, but you don't wanna break a hip or something."  Cate couldn't resist the playful barb about Jon's age.  "You can't be too careful now that you're eligible for AARP membership."

"Ha ha.  Fuck that,"  Jon replied sarcastically.  "Baby, you know I gotsa-tha moves ofa teenager.  And the stamina too."  He gave Cate's neck a little nuzzle to underscore his salacious point.

"Yeah, you do," Cate admitted with a happy little sigh.  "No complaints here."

"Good."

"But let's still wait for a slow song, okay?"

" 'Kay Baby.  S'Better anyway.  To hold you."  Jon grinned again before taking a sip of wine.  He swiveled his head toward the stage, focusing his attention on "Frank" and his orchestra.  "This-un's almos' over anyway."

Cate smiled and lifted her own glass, taking another tiny sip of the red wine she had been nursing for the past half-hour.  She had not intended to drink tonight, but after she found herself on this emotional rollercoaster she had given in to temptation. 

She felt Jon's weight shift against her as he turned to watch the stage, fitting himself into the little space between Cate's perch and the next high-backed bar chair.  She chuckled as she realized she probably would need to steady him on the dance floor.

When the song ended Cate and Jon applauded with the crowd.  The orchestra started an uptempo prelude to the next song as Cate swiveled her seat, preparing to dismount.  Jon wobbled away from his perch and stood, holding out his hand, waiting to help her off the barstool.  Cate was just ready to reach for his hand when she heard his name.

"So folks, whaddya think?  Should we get the Birthday Boy up here again to sing one with the ol' Chairman of the Board?"  The Sinatra impersonator's voice bounced across the room, garnering a cheering response.  On stage, "Frank" raised a hand to shield his eyes from the stage lights' glare, searching the room for his mark.  "Johnny, you out there?"

Jon looked at Cate and grinned.  "We were gonna dance, but..."

Cate chuckled and leaned against the backrest of her barstool.  "I think  you're being called out, Baby."

"I can say no, ya know."

"Do you want to sing?"  Cate could see in Jon's sparkling blue eyes that the challenge was welcome.

"Nah... It's my party.  I don' hafta sing if I don' wanna."  Jon smirked.

Cate snorted softly.  "Oh, please. You know you want to.  So go."  She tipped her head toward the stage.  "After all, this is the closest you'll get to singing with Frank."

Jon hesitated for a moment, then leaned in to plant a somewhat sloppy kiss on Cate's cheek.  "Be back in a minute," he promised.  "Love ya, Baby."

Cate giggled, certain "a minute" would stretch into a half-hour.  But her heart warmed at the beaming grin on her husband's flushed face.  "Take your time.  I'm not going anywhere."

Jon nodded and took a swig from his wine glass before raising his hand in acknowledgement of "Frank's" call.  "Yo!  I'm ovah HEAH!" Jon bellowed out in an exaggerated accent.  With a spring in his step and surprisingly true balance Jon strutted toward the side of the stage and climbed the steps, to a round of loud cheers and whistles.  He accepted the microphone from the Crooner then stood grinning, awaiting a cue.

"So, you think you can sing this stuff, Sonny?"

"I know I can sing this stuff."  Jon grinned cockily at the crowd and puffed out his chest.

"Well then let's go."  "Frank" didn't hesitate, cueing the orchestra.

Cate sighed softly and reached for her wine glass, then settled back to enjoy the show.

*****

"Jon... Jonny..."  Cate gasped as she slid her mouth aside, freeing it from Jon's ravenous lips.  She sucked in a breath, her chest expanding against Jon's hard pecs as he held her pinned to wall with his body.  "We... let's... let's go... to the bedroom..."  She couldn't strangle a gutteral groan as Jon's mouth devoured her neck.  She tipped her chin further upward.

"We could jus' do it righhere..."  Jon's slur was also a breathy pant.  "Youalike the wall..."  He leaned harder against her, pressing his pelvis more urgently to her hips.

Cate gasped out a little chuckle.  "Baby... I don't think you're in... in any condition... OH!"  Cate squeaked as Jon yanked up her skirt and snapped the back strap of her garter.  The sting of the elastic against her bare thigh was electrifying.

"Ohhhh I'm ina condition... all right...."  Jon half-laughed, half slurred his sly response.  "I's needs some help for mah condition..."

"Then let's go to the bedroom, Baby."  Cate moaned softly as Jon grabbed the back of her thigh, hitching it up to his hip before roughly shoving his fingers inside her panties and curving his hand around her buttock.  "You... you need to lay down before... before you... fall down."  She arched her back a bit more, fully aroused by Jon's aggressive foreplay.

"So don' lemme fall down."  Jon chortled dirtily.

"But Baby... I can do so much more... more to you.. in... there."  Cate wobbled a bit on her one-legged stance as Jon tilted a little to the right.  Her high-heeled pump didn't provide much in the way of a stable platform to support her weight, let alone his.

"Mmmm...." Jon considered her proposition for a moment as he dragged his tongue up the column of her throat.  He chuckled evilly at the little gasp the sensation elicited.  "M'okay.  Youcando anythin' you wan' to me.. Iss my birthday!"

Cate giggled and moved her hand to pry Jon's grip off her glute.  She carefully lowered her foot to the floor, bracing herself before she gently pushed against Jon's weight.  He wobbled a bit, but she helped him steady himself before moving. 

Slipping an arm around Jon's waist, Cate guided him down the darkened hallway to their bedroom door.  Twice their progress was delayed when Jon pushed her up against the wall and kissed her thoroughly, pawing at her breast with a dirty chortle.  Miraculously, their transit caused only minor destruction, one framed print crashing to the floor with a dull crunch. 

Finally Cate stopped Jon at the side of their bed.  She giggled when he again wrapped her in a tight embrace and roughly claimed her mouth.  As the kiss became more heated Jon wobbled, bumping against the edge of the mattress before losing his balance and falling sideways on the bed, pulling Cate with him.

"See!  I told you you'd better lay down!"  Cate admonished through her laughter.  She allowed him to kiss her once more, then struggled out of his arms.  Pushing herself up to sit, Cate brushed a long lock of copper hair away from her face.  Her stylish hairdo was now wrecked, thanks to her horny husband's amorous advances during the car ride back to the apartment.

"Yeeeaaaaahhhhh..." Jon groaned out a sigh.  "Think I's better down here."  He stuck out his lower lip and blew a long breath of air upward, puffing his shaggy bangs away from his forehead.  He raised a hand to scratch at his belly, then lowered it to tug at his untucked shirttail.  "Gettitoff..." he grumbled.

"Oh, you Big Baby..." Cate chortled as she reached to undo the last three fastened buttons on Jon's dress shirt.  He had removed his tie earlier in the night and had dropped his suit jacket at the front door, but had not completely succeeded in undressing during their passionate trek through the apartment.  "There.  Better?"  She couldn't resist giving Jon's flat belly a little tickle.

"Stoppit!" Jon whined, squirming away from her touch.  "No tickle!"  He swatted at Cate's hand, capturing it when he felt her fingers under his.  He grinned lecherously and pressed her hand downward, over his fly. " 'Cept there."

Cate giggled and gave Jon's crotch a gentle squeeze.  "Tell you what, Baby.  Let me get out of this dress, then I'll come back and tickle you some more."

"MmmmKay."  Jon released Cate's hand and let his own hand fall limply on his bare abdomen.  He rolled his head to the side and let his eyes close, his mouth still curved into a grin.  "S'prise me."

Cate shook her head at Jon's silliness, then sighed.  She rose from the bed and paused, considering whether she should ask Jon to unzip her dress before she journeyed to her closet to hang it up for the night. 

She watched as Jon's hand slid down his belly to tug at his belt, attempting to unfasten it solo.  Cate chuckled with the realization that Jon probably wasn't even capable of undressing himself right now, let alone her.  With another bemused shake of her head she strolled around the bed and toward her closet.

"Baby... don' fughet.  Leave your stockin'son." Jon reminded her urgently as she moved. 

Cate smirked, his previous request already noted.  She intended to shed only her dress and her bra, then leave the rest to Jon.  The foreplay would be delicious.  Not that she really needed any more... she was already revved up and ready to go, her panties thoroughly dampened and her nipples aching for his  mouth.

The thought made her move faster.  Cate trotted into her closet, reaching behind her neck before she even stopped in front of the three-way mirror.  She grimaced as her fingers scrambled over the back seam in search of the tiny zipper pull hidden in the satin.  When she finally found it, she pushed the zipper down as far as she could before having to change tactics and reach behind her waist and up her back.

"Dammit!" Cate growled as she felt across her back, searching for the zip.  She could feel the air on her skin where the fabric had already parted, but she couldn't quite reach high enough to grasp the metal tab.  As she stretched she turned in front of the mirror, trying to get a visual of the spot she sought.  She wobbled a bit on her heels as she turned further with her stretch, the zipper still eluding her fingertips.

"Baaaaaybeeee.... My pants're offfff...."  Jon's voice came lilting through the closet door, heightening the urgency of Cate's struggle.

With another frustrated growl Cate kicked off first one shoe then the other, stabilizing her stance.  Again she reached up, contorting her arm and her upper body as she tried again to undo the zipper.  Unsuccessful a second time, Cate blew out a breath.  Maybe she should try another tactic.

Dropping her hands to the hem of her skirt, Cate gathered the dark blue fabric into her hands and tugged upward.  The dress slithered up her thighs, exposing her stockings, garters, and bare flesh.  But then the curve-hugging garment would move no further, still bound by the lower portion of the closed zipper.

"MotherFUCKER!" Cate cursed, stomping over to the wardrobe in the corner.  She had some sort of gadget somewhere, one that she had on occasion used to zip herself into evening gowns when Jon wasn't around.  If it worked going up, it must work coming down, too.

Rummaging through the drawer, Cate flung aside several useless doodads before finding the tong-like device.  With a little snort of triumph Cate hurried back to the mirror and turned half-sideways to spy the view of her back.   She again curled her arm behind her back, gripping the zipper gadget firmly and angling it upward.

After a few attempts to snatch the zipper pull in the arms, Cate finally succeeded.  She yanked downward on the zipper, letting out another little triumphant growl when it rasped all the way to its bottom.

Now thoroughly horny, Cate yanked her arms from the bodice and shoved the dress down over her hips.  She abandoned her original intention to hang the satin garment before bedtime, not wanting to waste any more time.  She swiftly stripped off her slip, unclasped her brassiere and flung it aside, then crouched to set her black patent pumps upright.  Cate quickly stood and stepped into her shoes, then turned toward the mirror.

She looked sexy as hell, her creamy skin sharply accented by the sheer black of her seamed nylons and banded by the black satiny straps of her garters.  The elegant lace garter belt stretched across her trim hips, curving high enough to reveal the matching lacy triangle that covered her crotch.  Her dusky nipples were peaked and quivering, fully aroused atop rosy-flushed breasts.  Long, thick strands of mahogany wisped from the wildly tousled remains of her beehivish updo. 

Cate smirked at herself as she pictured Jon's reaction.  He may be drunk as an Irishman on Saint Patty's Day, but she was certain his response would be primal.

Turning away from the mirror, Cate strode quickly to the closet's entry.  She paused there for a second to take a breath and put on a sexy smile.  Then she turned the corner and sashayed slowly across the bedroom, rolling her hips with all the brazen confidence of a streetwalker.

"Alright, Baby.  You ready to really celebrate your birthday?"  Cate's purr was husky and sensual.

The reply was a raspy snore.