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(It would be a long weekend, but we quite often have to work weekends so we could easily swap with some colleagues). The school was still out, and it would be a pleasant change for the children who spent a lot of time with my parents, which they were beginning to find a bit tedious.Both Poul and the children thought it would be great. Greg sent a picture of the cottage, which look fabulous. Even though it was right on a long wide sandy beach, it also had a pool warmed by solar heating (the need for which you would only understand if you know normal Danish summers), so it would always be nice and warm. Our children had been swimming since they were 5 months old and love the water.We packed the Chrysler Voyager which we always use for trips, as the children can play games and entertain themselves better in that, even though I prefer the smother ride of the Mercedes. It was a fight I always lost because it was better for the children. The Mercedes is my car, but I never get to drive it. Men! Scumbags!Shit. What was I thinking? I love the stupid prick of a husband, and without him, I didn't have a clue as to where I would turn or what I would do.Right now it was year- end closing at Georgetown University and I had a pile of spreadsheets to finish up for the boss, so I had to try and shove the dickhead from my mind. At least Mr. Fuckwad had the decency to tell me he was getting a motel room until he could find a new place to buy, so I wouldn't have to see him when I went home.It was hard as Hell to concentrate with the anger spewing venom and making my blood boil, but I did manage to get the reports and spreadsheets done for my boss, Jo, short for Josephine, a no nonsense, rough but fair bull dyke lesbian. Many a macho male had had his balls served to him on a silver platter when they tried to cross her, and I so admired her for that. She was no nonsense when it came to work, but adored her sexy femme wife to death and treated her with the utmost love which I.
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Eventually, as the dusky gloom of the storm closed in, she gave up the struggle. With no lights in the cabin, and now only the flashes of lightning to illuminate the page, the effort was too much. Bored, she studied the profile of the man opposite as he half-dozed in the gloom.The face was rugged and lean, the neck powerful. His hair was flecked with grey, the beard grey, almost white. Had she been able to see them, the eyes were a deep ice blue. They gave him a piercing look, making his face seem stern, but kind, with laughter lines to soften the cragginess.She leaned forward beside his head and stroked the side of his cheek with the back of one hand. "Penny for them?"Without opening his eyes he laughed gently, softly, almost inaudibly in the noise of the drumming rain, and said, "Not a lot, really; the old days, I suppose. The madness of youth."She giggled a little. "Do you remember, all that time ago, dancing in the storm, in the rain? It was like a pagan ritual, made me feel so.

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