Chapter 28: Debbie--Love and Lookout Mountain

A/N: Jad you are invaluable!!!

Chapter 28: Debbie—Love and Lookout Mountain

"Hey honey," Joe Sakic said to Debbie as the waiter left their table after taking the wine order. "Cecile is the Roy’s weekend nanny, right?"

Debbie sighed, looking at her impossibly handsome husband. Why did she know that that was gonna be his most interesting question of the night?

"Yes," Debbie said. "Michele needs a bit of help on the weekends. And you know how good Cecile is with the kids."

Joe nodded, narrowing his eyes. "Oh," he said. "That’s funny because I saw her today at practice, Keaner was teasing her through the glass."

"Yeah? And?" Debbie asked.

"And then afterwards she spent a couple hours with Fops and Noter on the practice ice," Joe added.

Debbie glanced around the restaurant. It was a gorgeously simple, deliciously expensive, romantically lighted Italian food place. Dammit Joe should be making love to her right now with words. WITH WORDS!!!!

"What?" Debbie said with a frown. "Noter? Fops? Joe, I can’t keep up with these nicknames."

"Oh, sorry," Joe said simply, with no expression, "I meant Danny and Peter. Cecile was on the ice with them....well with Peter. Danny just sort of waddled around the ice in his shoes."

"Oh," Debbie said, bored and irritated, "Yeah, well....perhaps Mimi didn’t need her today. Maybe Alex had the kids or something."

Joe nodded, looking like he was digesting every bit of information as if it were of the highest importance. Debbie wanted to hit him.

She had joined Michele and Coco for lunch and shopping at the Flatirons earlier that day. She loved being with them, and when Coco had left, she and Michele had gotten into their delicious bits of gossip and chatting. As much as Debbie loved to hear what was going on through the grapevine amongst the chicken coops, or hear wicked tales from the past, it still left her feeling boring and left out.

"Mike Keane?" Debbie had squealed in horror to Michele. "Mimi how could you? Did he at least have more hair back then? Or would that have helped?"

Michele had laughed wickedly. "Well, now I have heard it all," Debbie finally said.

Michele had smiled slyly, "Mike really isn’t that bad, Debbie, he’s real funny."

Debbie had wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, Mimi I don’t think I want to hear about this one!"

Michele had looked a little pensive. "Well," she finally said. "When you close your eyes and turn out the lights.....he’s quite talented."

"Ooooh!" Debbie squealed and then laughed, and she had covered her ears.

Debbie still didn’t know if Michele had been kidding or not. But the point was, if it was true. It still meant that Michele had done everything....everything in life that she damn well pleased. And Patrick was a great, exciting lover to boot! So Michele said. And here Debbie was, stuck in a gorgeous restaurant with great wine, and all she had to show for it was a husband who called his teammates Fops and Noter.

"Your wine, sir," the snooty, effeminate waiter said down his nose, presenting the red wine to Joe, cradling it like the bottle was a baby.

Joe looked up and smiled. "Great, thanks!" he said.

Debbie rested her chin in her hand, Quoteless Joe, she thought. She gingerly picked up the glass with her other hand, holding it up to the waiter. She barely listened to the glug glug of the blood colored wine as it was poured delicately into the glass.

She looked at Joe’s face. He was watching solemnly, with an almost religious look on his face. Ugh! Debbie suddenly thought of a TV commercial she saw once where Olie Kolzig was served an exquisite wine and then he promptly grabbed the wine bottle, sloshing the liquid on his face and suit, spitting out the rest onto the table like he was man-handling one of his Powerade bottles in a game. Now if Joe did that, then that would be something!

The waiter left.

"This is something you’ll treasure, Debbie," Joe said, tilting the wine a little in the glass and ravishing it with his eyes. Damn! Debbie thought, he never looks at me like that! I bet he doesn’t even watch porno like that........does Joe even like porno?

"The grapes were harvested twenty years ago in the fields of France, amongst wild herbs like lavender and rosemary. The flavor is unparalleled, if you even inhaled just the tiniest bit of it, you can taste the sunny earth!"
Do I want to taste the dirt? Debbie thought but didn’t say.

"And drink it slowly, never gulp it. This is a moment we should share, raise your glass Debbie!" Joe said.

How about ask me to raise my skirt? Debbie thought.

Debbie held up her glass half-heartedly and let Joe happily clink his against it. As Joe closed his eyes and began to slowly take a long drink from the glass, Debbie drained her entire glass in one gulp. Wincing a bit from the alcohol fumes coming up her throat and nose, Debbie looked at Joe. "Did you know the Roys had sex in the hallways of the Pepsi Center."

Joe’s eyes widened and he spit the wine out of his mouth and pretty much everywhere else. Debbie fluttered her eyes at the wine droplets speckling her face and blouse, and tried not to notice that everyone was now staring at them.
"What?!" Joe gasped.

Debbie nodded, using her linen napkin to wipe the wine off her thin, creamy arms. "It’s true," she said. "Last Stanley Cup win, when everyone was getting all hammered, they screwed each other up against the wall, in the hallway, while a press conference was going on in the other room."

Joe just sat there with his mouth hanging open.

What are ya thinking Joey? Debbie thought, You’re thinking either how could the Roys do that or how could my wife say that.

"Debbie!" Joe said, his eyes darting back and forth, "How could you say that?"

Debbie sighed and shrugged. "I’m not the one making a scene, hon."

Joe shook his head and leaned forward, whispering loudly. "Where did you hear that?"

Debbie sighed. "Mimi told me."

"She said that?" Joe cried. "Just like that, ‘Patrick and I had sex in the Pepsi Center hallway?’"

Debbie cringed a bit. Joe had said the last part of the sentence a little too loudly and a few close tables of diners were now looking at them. "Joe, keep it down," she said.

"Well?" Joe asked.

"Yes," Debbie said, "We talk a lot, and she mentioned it."

Joe’s eyes were wide and he looked down at the pre-dinner salad as it was placed in front of him. He sighed loudly and shook his head. "Well," he said, "Everyone did get a bit tipsy on that night. I guess it can happen."

Debbie was irate. He was just going to drop the subject, brushing it off as the tipsy shenanigans of a lusty couple. He was going to finish his dinner, forget about what he had just heard, and probably just go on with life!

Debbie watched him shoveling lettuce into his mouth, and then he put the fork down taking a more appreciative drink of his wine. When he began reaching for the fork again, Debbie said, "Remember that fund-raiser in Cherry Creek when we took a wrong turn into that back room and we saw Michele on her knees fixing Patrick’s zipper and I steered us back the other way?"

Joe nodded. "Yeah."

"Joe!" Debbie said testily. "Think about it! You don’t honestly believe that she was just fixing his zipper!"

Joe looked at Debbie, a rather blank look on his face. Then slowly, ever so slowly, Debbie could see the seeds of understanding blossoming on his face.

"Oh my God!" Joe cried. "A blow job! A blow job! She was giving him a blow job!"

"Shhh!" Debbie said, now more than a few diners were looking in their direction. "Yes you dingbat!"

Joe ran his hands through his hair. "Oh my God!" he said quietly, "Michele? She’s such...such....a homemaker!"

Debbie rolled her eyes. "Joe," she moaned, "Don’t you get it? She’s a living, breathing woman! A fulfilled one too!"

"Uh...excuse me," a nervous host interrupted them, leaning close to the table and speaking quietly, "Is there a problem here?"

"Uh...." Joe said his voice dying.

"Joe’s had a little too much to drink," Debbie said sweetly, "We’ll keep it quiet."

"Thank you," whispered the host before he darted Joe a look and then he scurried away.

Joe sighed and put his face in his hands. "Uh, is there something you’re trying to tell me?"

Debbie just looked at him. She loved him, she had always loved him. She could never conceive of being with anyone else...but there were so many things he could do! Why couldn’t he do them?

"Are you saying that you want me to...to....in the Pepsi Center?" Joe said, looking as earnestly as he could in Debbie’s eyes.

Debbie sighed and took a sip of water. "No," she said. "Nothing that extreme, it’s just that...that Joe! I’m not gonna break in your fingers! I’m not gonna get exhausted! You don’t have to treat me like some..fragile piece of porcelain. I want to make love to you so much! And...and you touch me so infrequently..."

"But Debbie!" Joe exclaimed. "Your condition!"

Debbie shook her head. "Joe, my medication has been working wonderfully! The operation was just as good. Joe, I’m feeling so much better....I just don’t feel whole. I just don’t feel like your wife!"

Joe’s mouth became a thin line and his jaw set tightly. Debbie could feel tears in her eyes, she hadn’t meant to say any of that. She must have hurt his feelings, she knew how tender he was inside. She knew he always had a lot on his mind. But she had to say something!

"Alright," Joe said. "Come on, we’re leaving."

"Joe?" Debbie asked.

Joe stood up and taking his wallet out he flipped some cash on the table. With unusual force he grabbed Debbie’s skinny little arm and yanked her from her seat. Debbie gasped in confusion. "Joe!" she exclaimed.

"Joe?" Debbie asked as they were in the car, headed out of Denver, the city lights blinking merrily behind them. "Where are we going? This isn’t the way home."

"I know," Joe said.

Debbie sighed and gazed out of the car window. The world was getting blacker and blacker on the road, and then she recognized where they were headed. "Lookout Mountain?" Debbie exclaimed. "Why are we coming to Lookout Mountain?"

"Isn’t this the place to be?" Joe finally answered when he had passed the long lines of various cars, windows fogged up and shady forms inside. He had found a rather secluded spot on the road overlooking the whole scope of the city, thousands of feet above it. Debbie was a little breathtaken with the view, but the lines of rocking cars hung in her mind.

"Joooooe," she said warily.

Before Debbie could take another breath Joe turned to her, and grabbing her frail shoulders in his hands, he kissed her long and deeply. Surprised at first, Debbie squeaked a bit but she soon relaxed and threw her arms around his neck. Her pulse was racing, and finally she had to pull away to breathe. "Joe!" she sighed, "Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah!" Joe said, trying to put on a deep manly voice. "I’m gonna make up for everything!"

"Oh Joe!" Debbie gasped and she grabbed him this time, kissing him hard. If she was dreaming she was not going to waste one moment of this!

Joe’s chin was a little prickly, and it tickled Debbie’s face, but she liked it. He smelled like alcohol and cologne, and his hands were trailing up and down her back. Debbie wouldn’t even move to break the kiss when she felt his thin fingers toy with the buttons of her blouse tentatively and then finally he began loosening them.

"Wait," Debbie gasped, pulling back, feeling the cool rush of air into her blouse.

She was holding her breath as she crawled off her seat and straddled Joe’s lap. "It’s easier this way." she said.

Joe groaned a bit and buried his face in her open blouse and Debbie closed her eyes, kissing his hair. She bit her bottom lip as she felt him growing excited underneath his pants and she jerked back a bit hitting the horn on the steering wheel and then leaning on it.

"Beeeeeeeeeeep! Beeeeeeeeeeeep!" went the horn.

"Oh hell!" Debbie cried as she rolled off Joe and the horn, back onto her seat.

Debbie and Joe both looked at each other, laughing. "OK," she said. "I won’t hit the horn!"

She pounced forward this time, carefully avoiding the horn, craving that feeling of his nose pressing into her breast. She kissed him again, and then rained soft kisses on his cheeks and then onto his prickly chin and throat. Joe moaned and when Debbie actually nibbled on his throat and ripped open his shirt, sending buttons clinking in all directions, he jumped and threw one of his hands out, hitting the button for the windshield wipers.

"Oh my God!" Joe gasped. "Debbie!"

Debbie looked up, smiling when she noticed that not only where the windshield wipers swishing back and forth, the cleaning fluid was also pouring down the glass. "I didn’t push that button this time!" Debbie giggled.

"I think you did!" Joe laughed.

Debbie sat back again onto her seat. She could only dimly see Joe’s pale form in the moonlight. Suddenly, the desire overtook her more strongly. "I want to give you a blow job," she whispered.

"What?!" Joe cried as she leaned forward, undoing his fly. Before she could reach in, Joe pulled back from her. "Debbie! You can’t...."

"Joe!" Debbie exclaimed. "We’ve never done that before! I heard that hockey fellas love blow jobs! You shouldn’t be denied that!"

"Uh..." Joe said.

"And don’t tell me you don’t like them Joe Sakic!" Debbie snapped. "Because I’ve been the only girlfriend and wife you’ve ever had so there is no possible way you could have had one before and I'm gonna give it to you!!!!"

"Eeeep..." Joe quietly squeaked.

"Good," Debbie said, "Now sit still!"

Debbie quickly tried to think of the tips Michele had given her but the only thing she could remember was on no occasion use your teeth. Well, the concept was simple enough.

She could hear Joe’s breath stop as she crawled towards him over the seat. Suddenly she felt desirable and seductive! She was a tigress of the night!

Her heart pounded faster and her hands trembled as she finished opening his fly and as soon as she reached in Joe reacted. "Ooooooh," he groaned. "Debbie!"

He jerked his hand back and it accidentally hit the handle to the car door, flinging it open. Debbie screamed and slipped forward only a little bit but Joe wasn’t so lucky. Her heart stopped as she saw him flip out of the open door and disappear over the edge of the crumbling ravine. "Aaaaaaaah!" she heard him scream.

"Joe!" Debbie screamed as she jumped out of the car onto the level ground, almost sliding over the edge herself. Joe had stopped sliding down the side and she could see his body about fifteen or twenty feet below her, illuminated by the moonlight.

"Honey?" she asked, fear in her voice.

"Son of a bitch," Joe’s voice cut through the air.

Debbie held her hands over her heart. She had never been so relieved to hear him curse. She leaned on her hands and knees, the gravel cutting into her palms. "Honey!" she called down to him. "I’m gonna call 911, help will be coming, OK? You just hang on!"

"Ummmhmmm," Joe groaned. "You do that...I’ll just hang here..."

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