I smiled when I saw a response from Tyler in my inbox. I knew that would cheer me up, yet I had an unspoken fear that Tyler would have lost interest at the same time Mouse left, and I would be left alone. I was at home, sick with the flu, but I had still e-mailed Tyler first thing in the morning. I couldn’t wait another day. I drummed my fingers as I waited for the e-mail to open.

Good Morning, Lori,

Today I was pleasantly surprised to see a morning e-mail from you. Thanks.

And my breakfast was two English muffins with jelly.

I think I will answer a few of your easier questions first.

Why do I want to wrestle you? I figured you to be a good challenge—at least put up a good fight for at least three minutes until I either lock you up or choke you out. (I don’t follow real wrestling rules, I sort of follow some modified judo rules.) I don’t really pin. It’s more like either you submit or get choked out.

How far am I from the city? Well, mileage I do not know exactly. But it is about 1½ hours on an express train from Milford to Grand Central.

Do I like the city? It is a nice place to visit. I do not think I could live there. At least now I couldn’t, maybe if I was younger. It is really busy. I kind of like my house here in the country. At night, there are no street lights, and when you look into the sky, you can see a billion stars. I have an acre of spacious land, and I am only about 15 minutes from city life here. Let me put it this way—at night I can have sex in my back yard and no one would ever know. Well that’s not a good example, is it? I mean, in NY, I’ve seen some pretty interesting things happen there, too. And people want others to see.

Next question: Sushi? I guess sushi is an acquired taste and I haven’t acquired it yet. I do eat my meat very rare, but I like it cooked just a little bit. I have eaten sushi before, but I would not put in on my top ten list.

So I guess I am probably not answering your questions very well. Ok just picture me as a karate clown throwing people around. Or better yet, keep the construction image.

I remember a lot of weird things, don’t I? The choking thing is getting really intriguing now. And, yes, you are right—I do remember a lot of the weird things. So this choking thing gets even stranger than what you had already explained. Wow!! Too bad I am at work.

When the door finally slammed, the silence overwhelmed me. I couldn’t even hear the cars on the street below. Everything was echoing inside my head. The man who I couldn’t stand most of the time, but still loved and did not know what to do without, was gone. He’d left before, but this time somehow seemed more final. My stomach clenched, and I sank to the floor. Quentin churred and left his windowsill to trot toward me. Mangus came in from the other room and directed his blue Siamese eyes at me. I accepted their small comforts.

“I can’t believe you would even consider that chair.” I spoke a little too loudly without even looking at the chair. “It’s hideous.”

“You’re right,” Mouse said without looking at me. “Your drool would just leave a big stain on it anyway.”

By now we were talking loudly enough to have caught the woman’s attention. She tried, poorly, to be discreet about watching us, but she was certainly no longer inspecting the top shelves. I saw Mouse’s lips start to curl upward, and his gaze swept from her anklebones toward her cleavage. He sat in a deep red leather chair and lounged with his knees wide apart, that grin still on his face.

“You have horrible taste.” I strode past him toward the wall of throw pillows at the back of the department.

“I must,” he called after me. “Considering what I’ve got.”

The fight escalated until a sales associate asked us to leave. This only made me more hot headed. We got back home, and I let it pour out of me. “You son of a bitching cheater. Everywhere you go, you’re just looking for a new piece of ass—”

“Oh, and you’re not, you little whore?”

He’d called me a whore for the last time. I would not take it. “Get the fuck out!” I started picking up his med books and flinging them in his direction. “Take all of your shit and get the hell away from me!”

“You know, you could still hold the door for me, Mouse,” I said as the heavy wooden-framed glass door swung in front of my nose.

Mouse continued into the store without acknowledging my comment. We hit the glossy concrete floor inside IKEA, and I told myself to let my snappy mood subside. Mouse was off from the hospital for a day, and we’d both decided that a new armchair was necessary in the living room. With all of Mouse’s medical books everywhere, sometimes it was work just trying to find a place to sit.

We’d made our way to the second floor, where the sofas and chairs were, without saying another word to each other. Mouse paused in front of a brown corduroy armchair with a rounded back rest.

“That will not go in our living room,” I said and crossed my arms.

Mouse still stayed silent, but he looked up at me with bitterness. Then his eyes focused behind me and changed.

I turned to see a skinny blonde in a pink skirt and white, strappy heels browsing the wall-unit bookshelves. Her shoes clicked softly on the coated concrete as she stepped around desk chairs and tilted her head up toward the top shelves. I felt my fists start to clench as I snapped my gaze back toward Mouse. He turned as if to consider a green micro-suede chair on the other side of the aisle, but then arched his back to peer around the corner after the woman.

Hey Lori,

Can you feel the power of the force? A master can sense what is going on. I believe he is on to you and he was just feeling you out for information. He just made up the scheduling change. Do not underestimate the power of the force.

Tyler

Yes, I could feel the power of the force. And that force would get much stronger as time went on.

I lowered my eyes and inspected the wood grains of my desk. The light grain marks swirled amid the cherry-colored wood, creating soft, circular designs. Master H had never touched me during class before last night. He often pointed and gave feedback about my form, using the mirror as a tool, but last night’s soft touch as he held my hips to readjust my stance suddenly washed over me.

And now he had closed the black belt test. Normally, Master H would be encouraging lower-level students to study the movements of black belts, and he would tell testing students it was best to perform in front of an audience. This sudden change was too coincidental with Tyler’s and my budding relationship.

Hello Master Tyler,

Just as I was about to write you an e-mail, the phone rang at work and someone said that it was Master H. I got so scared and I thought he found out that we were talking about the closed test and that he was going to yell at me! What a baby I am, huh?

The call was only about a schedule change. He is so nice. That was very strange. It was like he knew we were talking about him!! Scary...

So you photoshopped a bionic head on your body? You have way too much spare time! It was very funny. At least only your head is bionic and not your whole body. Well, maybe that would not be so bad!

Lori

It wasn’t long before Tyler e-mailed me to say he’d heard from Ringo.

Hi Lori,

Whoa…bummer. Closed test. Now this is going to be
Tyler was an extremely talented martial artist. I was drawn to his passion for the art. I loved to watch him perform. He was one of the best I have ever seen.boring. Now granted, I enjoy working out and love the martial arts, but!!!! (Don't tell Master H this) watching two guys sweat for two hours is not my idea of a fun Friday evening. Do you see what we masters have to sacrifice?

Well, that just bummed me out for the rest of the week.

I've been playing in PhotoShop. Check out my picture.

Back to work.

Tyler

I wrote back right away.

Hi Tyler,

What a flirt I was. I would say anything to make Tyler think more about me and want to see me. I wanted to fight and wrestle with him just so I could touch him.Closed test. Sad, but true. Maybe you should call Master H and tell him that you want me there to keep you entertained. Tell him you will not be able to focus and you will not be a good judge because you will be pretty much…sleeping.

Why don’t you tell him that you can’t make it? Then you and I can go to your school or my gym instead and practice our kicks together. What do you say, Master? I’ll even let you throw me clear across the restaurant after we practice and then eat. I know you will like that very much.

Are you smiling again yet???

Lori

The first time I saw Master H’s studio, it awed me. I had come in from the street, not knowing what to expect. The room had beautiful hardwood floors, and floor-to-ceiling windows adorned the south wall overlooking 23rd Street. As I stood in the doorway letting the calming atmosphere wash over my body and mind, Master H excused himself from the class he was teaching and told a high-ranking student to fill in for him. He looked me directly in the eyes as he told me about his school and about himself. He was a Korean man about 6 feet tall—a very handsome man with beautiful thick, long hair and a kind face, which was filled with intelligence and wonder. Awards and trophies he had won during his tournament days adorned the walls.

I found Master H easy to talk to and gracious. He had the reputation of having the fastest and most powerful kicks on the East Coast—something Tyler was a little jealous of, as I found out later. There was something different and special about Master H. I knew this from our first encounter, but I did not realize the extent of his insight.

I e-mailed Tyler the next morning. I had to know if I was going to see him again.

Good morning, Master,

Your utmost skill is obviously desired at the
We had a test coming up at the school for the higher belts. I was so nervous just thinking about Tyler ever testing me during a tae kwon do promotion. Right now all I could think about was seeing him. How could I ever focus during a test with him watching me?
black belt test
this week. Don’t you agree that it would be highly beneficial for lowly yellow belts to observe the testing techniques of masters? *Grin*

Will I get to see you? Master H hasn’t said anything to me whether the test is closed to viewers or not.

Your servant and student,

Lori

An eruption of butterflies filled my stomach when I hit the Send button. Tyler and I had been communicating through e-mail for what seemed like ages now. Seeing him in person again would make me feel shy, but I wanted to see how this situation would play out—and I wanted to be near his muscular body again.

Hi Lori,

*Smiling* Yes, I’ll make sure you’ll see me. And as a matter of fact, I have already made a call to Ringo to suggest to Master H that the black belt test be open to students. So I am working on it. No promises yet, but I will keep you posted. (This is top secret.)

Tyler

I smiled. Top secret, huh? I felt like a kid passing notes whenever the teacher looked the other direction.

I was relieved to get home and back into my workout routine again. My tae kwon do class seemed to be the only structured part of my life anymore. Work was chaotic with Tyler’s e-mails coming at least once an hour, and home was a mess with Mouse’s erratic schedule and jealous vibes.

Master H counted loudly in Korean as we students made our way back and forth across the studio with measured punches and kicks. After an hour of structured practice, we broke into pairs to spar. Master H appointed himself as my sparring partner.

“Lori, you’re leaning too far forward when you punch. Rotate your hips forward,” he placed his hand on my right hip, “and ease some of your weight onto your back foot.” He met my gaze in the mirror and smiled.

“Thanks,” I said. “Are my kicks looking all right?”

“Excellent,” he said and put on his sparring gloves.

We fought hard. Master H snuck some punches past my blocks, which only succeeded in making me mad. I focused on anticipating his moves and gaining the offensive. His left glove came for my face, and I knocked it to the side with my right arm, exposing his back for a thrust kick to the kidney area. We fought on for fifteen minutes, five minutes longer than Master H usually has us spar, and I was exhausted. Master H was always so gentle when he sparred with me, though. His goal was obviously to teach me, to help me improve, never to hurt me. Finally, we bowed to each other, and I couldn’t help but smile as I noticed his dark hair clinging to his forehead with sweat.

He grabbed a towel and wiped his face before turning to me again. “Good session, Lori.”

I took a long drink from my water bottle and smiled.

Master H threw the towel back toward his bag and gave my shoulders a quick squeeze. “We’ll have to do this more often.” He let his left hand slide halfway down my back before walking away, and it left a tingle in my spine. I watched Master H as he approached some higher-level students and started talking about their test at the end of the week—the test Tyler would be judging.