A FBOW excerpt: Mister Leonard
Chicago, Illinois —
November 19, 1963
“Lizzie, I don’t want to take your money! I don’t want you to have to support me!”
“Mitchie, I’m making plenty of money now! And if we’re going to be together. Married, than ‘what’s mine is yours’ and if you’re unhappy then I’ll be unhappy and I really want both of us to be happy...”
Thinking of Mitchell’s children… and her commitment to possibly eighteen years of ‘support’— which though she’d said it, she’d felt compelled to say it and the words now feeling as a chunks of lead in the pit of her stomach.
“At least as happy as you can be…” Elizabeth added. “...considering the circumstances.”
Looking at the clock on the wall, “He’s probably out to lunch now, so I’ll call in a little while… You sure you want me to?”
“Yes, sure…” feeling compelled to say it “... I’ve got to!”
“This might not be as bad as you… as we’d thought.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“One time you came home from work and she had all your clothes thrown into boxes with a note telling you to ‘get out’, right!”
“Yeah. That was a terrible day.”
“Mitch, think about it! This is the second time she threw you out of your own home for no reason, right?”
Beginning to understand what Elizabeth was getting at. “Yes.”
“And one other time she even… While you were out working to support her and your kids, she had people come to move all of your furniture out of your home and… Mitchie, your wife kidnapped…”
“ ‘Kidnapped’?”
“Yes, ‘kidnapped’! Your wife took your baby while you were out working to earn a living!
“She took your baby and ran away and hid out someplace without letting you know where they… where your son was!
“And you tried to find them… You did ‘everything’ you could to find them but couldn’t and you didn’t see Mikey for a few months, right?”
“Yes…” nodding his head. “...for two and a half months.”
“Mitch...” Elizabeth said angrily “...Marsha ‘can’t’ keep doing that to you!” Her voice rising. “Throwing you out of your own home! Running away with your child and hiding! She ‘can’t’ keep doing that! And she hit you, too, ‘right’?”
In the time he’d know her, he’d never heard Elizabeth raise her voice. A bit taken back by her anger, he nodded his head.
“No one knows about us; you and me, right?”
“Only my folks, and probably my brothers by now.”
“So? So now you’re sick and tired of being thrown out of your own home and want a divorce… All you’ve got to do is deny being with me.”
“What about my folks? If they’re called to testify…”
“Divorce courts don’t call for juries. It’s the judge that makes the decisions, so it’s doubtful they’ll be called to testify.”
Knowing his parents knowledge of her could be a problem but the ‘kidnapping’ would more than compensate.
“The lawyer, he’ll know about us.”
“Well...” peeling the pulp off a section of the orange “...yeah,” biting it in half, “...but he’s your lawyer and what he knows or thinks won’t have a thing to do with how he represents you.”
Watching Elizabeth chew. Knowing he’d need her with him to give him the strength to go through with this, Mitchell said nothing.
Swallowing, glancing at the clock. ..
For some reason anxious to get this started—possibly just to see if Mitchell would really go through with it, and if not?
“The hell with it! If he’s not in, I’ll leave a message for him to call.”
Going from the kitchen to the bedroom, returning in a minute with a small, leather bound book. Lifting the phone, Elizabeth dialled a number.
“Ida, good morning. It’s Elizabeth Herzon, uh, Lipshitz.”
“Elizabeth…” came the voice on the other end of the call “...nice to hear from you. How are you?”
“Fine, thank you… You?”
“Good… You want to speak to Mister Leonard?”
“Yes, please, if he’s in.”
“He is. Hold on.”
A few seconds later, “Elizabeth, how are you?”
“Fine, Mister Leonard, thank you… I’ve a, uh, friend that needs a lawyer.”
“What’s your friend’s name?”
“Lipensky.”
Writing on a yellow, legal size pad, “L-i-p-e-n-s-k… Would that be with a ‘I’ or a ‘Y’?”
Holding the phone to her chest, looking at Mitchell quizzically, “Mitch…” she asked “… is your name with a ‘Y’ or an ‘I’?”
We’re talking about getting married and in all this time she doesn’t even know how to spell my name? “‘Y’ !”
Yet something else I don’t know about him,Elizabeth angrily thought. How to spell his fucking name!
“With a ‘Y’.” Elizabeth said into the phone: “Mitchell Lipensky’.”
“He’s there now, with you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why don’t you let me speak to him, Elizabeth.”
“Mitch…” motioning with the phone “...Mister Leonard wants to talk to you.”
Wondering why she’s pushing this this fast. Standing. His eyes still on Elizabeth. Taking the phone. “Mister Leonard, good morning.”
“ ‘Morning, Mister Lipensky. What action are you pursuing?”
“What action?”
“Yes. What do you want an attorney for?”
“A, uh…” finding it hard to say the word, “Divorce.”
“Have you spoken to another lawyer about this?”
“No. This happened just this morning and you’re the first, uh, only one.”
“Where do you and Mrs. Lipensky live?”
“Des Plaines.”
“Any children?”
“Yes, sir; three.”
The line silent a moment. “Will your wife contest this?”
“I don’t know, sir. But she threw me out again and told me she wanted a divorce.”
“ ‘Again’? This has happened before?”
“Yes, now’s the third time.”
“Did it ever get physical?”
‘Physical’. “No, sir. Twice I wasn’t even home. And this morning, knowing how fast things could...uh, escalate with Marsha I left pretty fast.”
“Mister Lipensky, can you afford an attorney?”
“I’ve talked to Liz, uh Elizabeth,” still looking at her, “and she said you were very fair.”
“Mister Lipensky,” Leonard asked again, “can you afford an attorney?”
Holding his hand over the mouthpiece, “He wants to know if I can afford him,” he whispered to Elizabeth.
Nodding her head affirmatively. “Tell him yes.”
“Yes, sir, I can.”
“Hold on, Mister Lipensky, I’ll switch you back to Ida for an appointment.”
“Thank you.”
The line silent… “Mister Lipensky.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Looking through the appointment book. “How’s this Friday, the twenty-third look to you at, uh, eleven, forty-five?”
His stomach jumping, feeling a fathomless sadness. Friday? My God, he thought, this is really happening! “Friday?” Shrugging his shoulders, looking at Elizabeth who nodded her head. “Sure,” he said softly, Friday’s fine.”
“Okay then,” Ida said, “we’ll see you at noon on Friday.”
“ Yes, ma’am… Bye.”
Standing closely. “You sure this is what you want, Mitch?”
His thoughts passing as quickly as those wispy clouds in a strong wind.
The one thing he knew for certain was that he did love Elizabeth… The one thing he did ‘not’ know for certain was if he no longer loved Marsha.
Smelling the scent of Elizabeth’s cologne, sensing the heat of her body, “I love you, Lizzie.” His arms about her waist, “I want to be with you.”
“I want you with me, too, honey. I love you, Mitchie.”
His arms tightening, “I love you!” His mouth on her mouth, the kiss hard, impassioned.
“Mitchie,” feeling the passion, sensing her mounting passion, “you want to go to bed, Mitchie?”
****
Prolonged foreplay out of the question on this day.
Unwilling to hold back, his penis entering the unruly triangle of dark blonde pubic hair…
Though not moving.
His penis fully enclosed within the vagina of Elizabeth Herzon there is no movement as Mitchell Lipensky looks upon the beauty of the woman beneath him. At her face. At the spread of her naturally laying breasts.
Studying this woman as though to commit all of the beauty of Elizabeth Herzon to memory.
“I love you, Liz.”
Lying beneath. Her thighs open to him. Her eyes half closed. “Me too, honey,” Elizabeth said, moving her pelvis upward.
Feeling the warmth, feeling the heat… Feeling the moisture.
“I love you.”
Moving deeper…
Moving in cadence…
The only sound their movement and the ragged sounds of breathing.
Her thighs now widely spread from side to side…
Meeting his thrusts…
Her breath catching…
Her thighs now tightening about his waist…
“Mmmm, baby!”
His eyes tightly shut. As though within a euphoric daze his mind going to a much thinner, dark haired woman…
Oh, my God!
He was with Marsha. He was within Marsha…
“Oh, my God!”
Dropping onto her chest, her breasts now melding onto his chest.
His mouth going to her mouth…
Tongues moving in cadence with the short, pumping motion of hips and pelvis…
Oh, God!
Her eyes tightly shut, with one hard, final upward pelvic motion, Elizabeth stopped all movement.
And other than the hard, spasmodic penile pulsing, so did Mitchell.
Opening her eyes, “Mitchie, I love you.”
Opening his eyes, expecting brown eyes, looking into the green eyes of this woman that…
Shaking his head, bringing himself back to reality, “I love you, Lizzie.”
During moments of release, as a sexual orgasm will momentarily relieve the pain of a headache or sore tooth, immediately after, so then does the pain return.
On this day, however, his mind in turmoil, there was not even a momentary release of pain for Mitchell Lipensky.
The next FBOW excerpt in sequence: “It Was a Sunny Day”
