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Light of Dusk Ch. 01

By: Mused



Thanks to Chargergirl for all her feedback and support.

This story features the main characters from my story "Light of Dawn." It is a sequel, but reading the previous story is not essential.

*

Fear, the emotion was unfamiliar. Jeff rarely experienced fear on the field. Even when hounded by three-hundred pound goliaths intent on tearing him apart, he never lost his cool. That's why he was so good. 

With legs like wet noodles and a mouthful of bitter, salty saliva, Jeff slouched against the front door of his old home, a place he vowed never to return. His fingers were stiff and icy, despite the sticky weather. His left hand trembled as he clumsily reached for the doorbell. The doubts and fears he had concerning his return magnified as the chimes echoed within the familiar stucco walls. What am I doing here? More than a year had passed since home had been home. He had been gone an eternity, and now, without as much as a phone call, he expected to waltz back into their lives.

He hunted through the pockets of his cargo shorts for the invitation. Finding the manila card, his green eyes repeatedly traced the writing. The words embossed on the wedding invitation cruelly remained the same no matter how many times he read them. Dawn had moved on, started a real life, a life Jeff desperately wanted to be part of, even if that part was as nothing more than a brother.

He briefly relived their last conversation, before resting his forehead against the beige stucco wall. There was a time when his kid sister was more than a painful memory. There was a time when she was the sweetness in his life, the warmth, the light. A lock turned on the other side of the door. 

A crease formed on Jeff's brow. The long absence had left him ill prepared for this moment. She would be angry with him. He wasn't part of her life anymore. How could he be stupid enough to think she'd be happy to see him? His lips pinched tightly as he once more considered bolting.

It was Vince Kramer who opened the door, his eyes growing wide at the sight of a son long absent. "Jeff?" Jeff's father hadn't aged a single day, if anything the fifty-two year old high school teacher looked younger and fitter. The gray had retreated from his sideburns and the sag had left his broad shoulders. At least someone had benefited from the long separation. 

"I didn't think you would come." His father offered a hand. Jeff hesitated before shaking.

"I wouldn't miss my kid sister's wedding, not for anything." He worked free from his father's grasp. "Although, considering I've never really told anyone where I live, it was pretty amazing to receive an invitation." Jeff had severed all ties to his old home when he moved to Calgary. Many people were undoubtedly upset. What did he care? He never intended to return.

"You're not exactly living in anonymity up there, Mr. Football Star. I switched satellite companies four times until I found the channel that broadcasted the Canadian league."

"Which still doesn't explain---" 

"I called the satellite company; they gave me the address for the network; the network gave me the address for the team; and the team gave me the address for my son."

"Positively diabolical," Jeff said, "but how did you con Dawn into the invite? I would figure to be the last person she'd want to see on her wedding day."

Vince sighed then grinned dumbly. What little warmth the reunion with his father had generated immediately fled Jeff's body. The invitation was his father's idea. She didn't even know. Dawn didn't want him. Any hopes that he and his sister could somehow share a normal relationship melted away. He wanted to leave more than ever, to spare himself the pain of seeing her again, seeing what he could never have.

"She's upstairs. You should surprise her."

Some surprise. After two years of exile, her creep of a big brother returns uninvited. Why doesn't he understand? Dawn got rid of me for a reason.

"The last year has been difficult for her. Since you left, she's not the same girl. She was depressed for the longest time." He caused her pain. Jeff felt a brief flash of pride. The pain surely paled to his own, but it felt good to know she had not endured the separation so easily. "She pretends that it doesn't bother her, but I'm her father and I know better."

Jeff pushed the pride aside. Feeling joy because of someone else's pain, that wasn't him anymore. That was who he used to be.

"I suspect being away has been difficult for you." Vince Kramer's eyes dipped to the floor. "Whatever tore the two of you apart doesn't change the fact that she's your sister." No, nothing will ever change that. "She still needs you. With everything that's happening in her life, she really could use her big brother."

Jeff wasn't sure if he remembered how to be a brother; it had been so long. 

Against his better judgment, he climbed the staircase, pausing in front of his old bedroom. He flipped on the overhead light and peeked inside. His former sanctuary was an office now, a cold and sterile cube jammed with computers, frayed extension cords, and reams of printer paper.

Jeff moved across the hall to the threshold of his kid sister's bedroom. Here, at least, everything remained the same. A well-worn cream carpet blanketed the floor, while the walls reflected a familiar shade of apricot. The girlish movie posters were gone, replaced by impressionist art prints. Most of her doll collection had been stored away, but a few favorites remained, proudly displayed in a mirrored curio bolted to the wall. Even with the changes, the effect remained the same: still warm, still inviting, still Dawn.

She appeared as if by magic, materializing the way she did in his dreams. A cloud of steam followed her from the connected bathroom, evidence of a recent shower. Small, wet feet padded across the cream carpet. She paused in front of the vanity to tease her long red hair with the tips of her fingernails. 

Jeff's attention bounced from his sister to the equally lovely twin reflected in the vanity mirror. She wore a snug pair of denim shorts and an ivory brassiere, an outfit that allowed Jeff to reacquaint himself with healthy amounts of her body.

The bra, designed more for support than titillation, had been constructed without so much as a drop of color or an inch of lace. The shorts, however, were quite titillating. Abysmally blue denim clung to the curves of her hips and backside, hugging her body with material snug enough to encroach between the crevice of her buttocks.

The dark shorts provided a startling contrast to her naked legs. Pink from the hot shower slowly receded under the gentle breeze of the air conditioning, revealing the fairness of her complexion. The skin stretched tight across her body, giving both flesh and bone the illusion of having been wrapped in wet paper. From the doorway, twelve feet away, Jeff could trace the spider-web patterns of shadowy veins beneath the surface of Dawn's delicate skin. Halfway up her back, the paleness faded; generous freckling painted her shoulders and arms with the illusion of an unnaturally orange tan.

She looked so fragile, like a porcelain figurine. Looks were deceiving, though. Dawn was strong, far stronger than he was, in spite of her delicateness.

The scent of sweet shampoo drifted to the doorway, tickling his nostrils with the essence of strawberries. She reached for a chunky plastic brush and began taming her long red hair. Dawn hummed a cheery tune. Her voice was melodious, hypnotic. She quieted as the jade of her eyes focused on a knot of red hair. Jeff willed the inappropriate tingle in his shorts away, realizing too late that the harp strings in her throat had seduced him all over again.

Consolidating his courage, Jeff knocked on the opened door. "Just a minute, Daddy." Dawn continued to hum as she threw a short silk robe over her shoulders. Her pleasant mood would be short-lived.

She turned and for the first time noticed Jeff. A familiar pair of dimples formed on her freckled cheeks. All too quickly, they disappeared. "You," she whispered. 

"Me." His words were barely more than a whisper. The ghost had returned from the grave with expected results. She turned to the mirror with dizzying speed but couldn't escape the glare of his reflection. A few tears leaked through her tightly closed eyes. Dawn covered her lips to stifle a sob. The reaction removed any lingering hope that their reunion would be a happy one.

"Don't be upset, please." Breaking the silence was like breaking glass. Jeff hesitated at the threshold, debating whether to wrap his arms around her, or step back out of her life forever.

He was prepared to choose the latter when she called to him. "Jeff." An act as simple as the passing of his name through her lips reminded Jeff of a forgotten part of himself, a part that remembered how it felt to be hugged, kissed, and truly loved. He felt taller, stronger, so unlike the man who had endured the past year. "I've missed you." Her confession almost stopped his heart.

"Not as much as I've missed you." He was certain of that. She had found someone to fill the void in her heart. He had not.

Jeff stepped inside the bedroom, moving closer, his eyes drawn to the silver-framed picture on the vanity. A stubby, thick-necked man stared back, displaying lifeless gray eyes and a feeble curve of a smile. He almost snickered. This is the man who won Dawn?

She rested her fingers on the frame. "His name is Roger." She caressed the face in the photograph. Her smile and sigh dug at Jeff, as if to say, See, I can have a normal life.

Roger looked like a clown. Worse than a clown, he looked generic. With an assembly line haircut and an ugly pie face, he looked painfully ordinary. Generic, ordinary, and ugly, his sister deserved so much better. "You would like him," she said.

He wanted to laugh in her face. Like him? Jeff had never hated anyone more, not in his entire life. Instead of laughing, he pointed out the streaks of gray generously distributed through Mr. Generic's sideburns. "He looks old."

"Old! He's not old!" Her sweet voice, even when tinged with irritation, was music. Jeff smiled; the jab had coaxed Dawn out of her shell, if only to defend her new love. 

"Alright, how not old is he?" 

Dawn released her protective hold on the silver frame. "He's only thirty...five."

Thirty-five, that's practically middle-aged! What could a thirty-five year old man possibly see in a twenty-one year old girl? Jeff needed little imagination to decipher that riddle. He silently fumed. Dawn doesn't belong with some thirty-five-year-old dinosaur. She belongs with someone younger, ten years younger, at least.

He wanted to have a friendly conversation, not a debate, so he set his anger aside. "Is he a good man?"

"Roger is a doctor at County General. He does important---"

"That's not what I asked. Is he a good man? Does he make you feel safe? Does he remind you of how special you are? Does he cherish you?"

Dawn had trouble meeting Jeff's gaze. "Cherish me? I'm not some kind of precious gem." 

"Oh yes you are." Jeff found the courage to touch her arm. Goosebumps raised on her freckled skin. Dawn forgot her grip on the silk robe; it slipped open, exposing her bra. Jeff released her arm, giving her the option of covering herself. 

Ignoring the robe, she caught his retreating arm and sighed. "He makes me feel safe." She put pressure on his arm, leaning her weight against him. "He has a great sense of humor, and when he makes me laugh I almost forget..." She closed the robe and retied the sash. "There are so many things I want to forget."

After more than a year Jeff's feelings for Dawn burned bright as ever. "I can't forget," he admitted, "not you, not us." She backed away, her bare feet padding on the cream carpet. His fingers closed around her hand, stopping her retreat. For just a moment her fingers threaded through his and they held hands the way they used to.

"Jeff, stop." She wrestled her moist palm from his grip. "You can't change things." Dawn stepped back, separating them by the gulf of an arm's length, close yet far.

"Who said anything about changing, Sunshine." She smiled when he used her pet name. The dimples lit his heart for the briefest moment. "Maybe, I just want to wish my kid sister good luck. Maybe, I just want to say goodbye." Maybe.

"Do you have plans?" she asked. The question took Jeff by surprise. His back and neck stiffened. He stretched to make himself look as tall as he suddenly felt. "We're having the rehearsal banquet this evening." Her words shrunk him back to size. "If you want to be at the wedding tomorrow you should meet Roger and his family tonight."

Jeff grinned dumbly and promised he would attend. He did not, however, promise to be on his best behavior. He retreated from her room, letting his mind drift. Seeing Dawn had dredged up so many memories, some of them painful. How did it happen? When did I start feeling this way? 

His troubles started the moment he allowed his sister to become something more than his sister, a moment easy to pinpoint. Jeff closed his eyes to remember, thinking back to the first time he truly saw her as a woman. In his mind, the lush greens of a June morning made way for the reds and browns of a parched August. Memories almost two years old seemed as fresh as yesterday, with Jeff a fifth-year senior at Choteau University and Dawn a timid freshman about to start her first day at the same college.

Does she ever think about how it all started, he wondered. 

***

Dawn paused in front of the closet. She hadn't seen Jeff, hadn't talked to him. Those weren't the impressions of size fifteen shoes marking a path from the door to the vanity. How could they be? Her brother was half a continent away, deaf and dumb to everything but the goofy version of professional football played in Canada. He was completely unaware of her upcoming wedding.

Sweet spices tickled her nose, shattering any denial. The lingering odor of Jeff's cologne confirmed the familiar scent of a familiar man. Dawn rubbed her arm, tracing the goosebumps his mere touch had birthed. She dug an old t-shirt from the closet and slipped it on. The shirt was worn and faded, the victim of too many tumbles in the hot dryer, but it still fit.

Dawn took a quick glance in the mirror and frowned. Choteau U's logo was splashed across the front of the dingy white shirt. The logo unearthed a thousand memories, some good, and some very, very bad. A large portion of those memories centered around Jeff. He would like that. He likes it when things center around him. She smiled in spite of herself.

An electronic ring broke the silence. The cordless phone resting on the vanity lit up. Dawn read the caller ID, County General Hospital. She steadied her breath and pressed receive. Roger was always concise, just a "Hi" and a "How are you" and whatever quick question about the wedding he could cram between the morning's patients. Today he blurted an apology about the rehearsal banquet; an outbreak of the mumps would make him late. Before Dawn could assure him his work was more important, he was off the line. She sighed. The life of a doctor.

She placed the phone on the vanity beside Roger's silver framed photograph. As if for the first time, she noticed the crinkles on her fiancé's brow. There were gray hairs too, lurking amongst the dark brown sideburns. So he's no Jeff. In her lifetime, Dawn had come across very few Jeffs. 

Roger was handsome in his own way. He was gentle and kind. The hospital paid him well, so he could afford to be generous. He spoils you, big deal. Grandpa spoiled you too. She was free to love Roger. They could touch hands in public. They could croon dopey love songs to one another at the karaoke bar. With Roger, Dawn didn't have to feel guilty; she sometimes did, but she didn't have to.

Dawn followed the trail of enormous shoeprints through the hallway. She tried to match the prints with her own bare feet, but thanks to his enormous stride, the size fifteen impressions were spaced impossibly far apart. The trail led to Jeff's bedroom. Jeff's old bedroom, Dawn reminded herself as she stepped inside. She almost expected to find the big iron bed beside the picture window, instead of the utilitarian office furniture recently installed by her father.

Jeff hunched over the computer desk, his legs awkwardly wedged beneath the sliding keyboard drawer. He squinted at the flat panel screen and pecked the keyboard with fingers as lanky as the rest of his body. He swiveled his neck and showed her a flawless smile. Dawn smiled back; at least she supposed she did. Sometimes her body had trouble with even the simplest functions when Jeff smiled. He turned back to the screen, accessing an e-mail website.

The taps of the mouse buttons were hard to distinguish from the tapping of her heart. She studied him, noticing how much his body had changed.

Dawn remembered late evenings spent in the bleachers of Jackson Field. Watching her brother's football practices had become an unlikely hobby. Back then, Jeff had seemed little more than an amalgamation of arms and legs; Ichabod Crane in football pads, she had always thought of him. His chest and arms had definition now, his shoulders too. As he shut down the computer and stretched, more muscles appeared beneath the ribbed material of his pewter gray t-shirt. Jeff was no Incredible Hulk (he was still far too thin for that), but the skinny boy she remembered was gone.

He wheeled the chair from the desk and swiveled to face her. "So when do I meet old man Roger?"

"Tonight, at the rehearsal banquet," she said before adding, almost as an afterthought, "and he's not that old." Poor old Roger, he actually looked forward to meeting his future brother. Dawn took a deep breath as she imagined her new love meeting her--meeting her brother. She knew Jeff, knew him better than anyone. Tonight would be a train wreck, and short of sending Jeff away, she could do nothing about it.

He must have sensed her confliction. "I can still leave if you would feel more comfortable." 

Like he cares. He wants me to be uncomfortable. "No, Jeff, you're my brother. My brother should be here." Brother, brother, brother. She repeated the word, reinforcing the fact.

"You're right," he said. "I should be here." He untangled his long legs and rose from the desk chair. Somehow, Jeff seemed taller than he did a year before. She knew it was impossible; guys stopped growing in their twenties. Maybe, she reasoned, the new muscles made him seem larger, more imposing. Whatever it was, he towered over her as he had never towered before.

A sound like an old door with rusty hinges emanated deep within his gut. Hunger, she realized. "I'm starved. They only passed out peanuts on the flight. Did you eat lunch?" he asked. 

"There's some pizza in the fridge from last night. Onion and... onion and wild mushroom." She and Roger had dined at the new gourmet pizzeria on Spruce Street the previous night. To tell the truth, the expensive and pretentious wood-roasted pizza wasn't very appetizing. She'd had better from the freezer, but Roger wasn't a frozen pizza kind of guy. For Dr. Walker it was gourmet all the way.

"We could go out, catch up like a couple of old friends...or siblings...or whatever." She forgot how cute Jeff could be when his confident veneer faded and he stuttered and rambled like a normal human being. "I'll pay and everything," he said. There was a glint of hope in his mossy eyes.

She squeezed a fistful of her damp, red hair. "I just stepped out of the shower." Garbed in the snug t-shirt and even snugger pair of denim shorts, she felt decidedly underdressed. Not that he looked overdressed. A ribbed tee and tobacco-brown cargo shorts could hardly be considered formal attire, but he was Jeff, and Jeff looked great in anything. Even the scuffed and faded hiking shoes looked rugged and sexy on his feet. 


Light of Dusk Ch. 01



The shoes, she realized, were the reason for the height disparity. The soles were thick, adding an inch to his height; whereas, she was barefooted, subtracting from her own height. 

"You look beautiful." A total lie but it was nice to hear, even nicer to hear from him. "Let's go to our diner, the one downtown. I want to buy my kid sister a burger and a milkshake." 

Dawn parked her rosy pink station wagon on Elmwood Lane. It was a long walk to the diner, about four blocks, but they could get no closer to downtown on a workday without paying the ridiculous prices of the parking garages. She didn't mind the walk, not on such a nice day and not with her current company. Jeff was more than up to the challenge. His body was in such phenomenal shape. He probably could have walked the twelve miles from home to downtown without sweating a drop.

Jeff clung to Dawn's elbow as they braved the notorious intersection of Ash and 12th street. The contact felt far more dangerous than the traffic. Looming ahead, a man in a giant foam lobster costume lurched along the storefronts, passing out flyers for the grand opening of the Captain's Catch, a new seafood restaurant. Jeff politely accepted a flyer as they passed. He folded it and stuffed it in the zippered cargo pocket of his dungarees.

Dawn squeaked. Something soft and foamy had grabbed her bottom. She rubbed the dark denim shorts as the lobster snapped his claws suggestively. Jeff confronted the lobster man. "Did you just grab her?" he asked. His voice rose when the lobster didn't immediately answer. "Did you?" Finally, Jeff broke a sweat. Moisture gathered under the arms of his pewter gray shirt.

"No, man, I never touched your girl." The lobster man innocently raised both of his claws. The voice inside the costume sounded young. He was probably just some teen making minimum wage.

She grabbed her brother's elbow, pulling him away from the lobster boy. "Come on, Jeff. Let's have a nice lunch." She would have been successful averting a confrontation had she not been grabbed a second time. This time the pincher aimed between her legs. Dawn squeaked as the bulky claw contacted the crotch of her shorts.

"I didn't do anything!" The lobster boy protested before an accusation was even leveled.

Jeff stomped towards the lobster boy. Dawn tried to stop him. She didn't know how far he would take the confrontation. The only time he had ever gotten physical was with Jase Riley, a very different situation. "Jeff, don't. It was probably just an accident."

"Yeah," the lobster boy raised his claws defensively. "It was an accident. I swear!"

"Accident my ass! If you think I'm gonna let my kid sister get molested by some crustacean---"

Dawn interrupted with a burst of laughter. Jeff sounded so serious. Defending her honor against a foam lobster, it was all too silly. 

"See," the lobster boy pointed a claw as Dawn giggled. "She liked it." That was the wrong thing to say. Jeff grabbed the claw and ripped it from the costume, not too hard a task considering it was attached with Velcro. "Please...don't..." Jeff seized the costumed boy in a headlock, dragging him to the road. An ebony Cadillac sedan rested parallel to the curb. Unfortunately for the lobster boy, the Cadillac's owner had neglected to lock the passenger door. Jeff opened the door, hammered his palm on the lock, and then slammed the door shut on the foam and wire antennas protruding from the lobster costume.

The boy strained and struggled, but unlike the claw, the headpiece had been permanently attached to the bulk of the costume. Until the owner of the Cadillac returned, he was trapped. "Sir! Miss!" Jeff and Dawn continued towards the diner as the lobster boy called for help. Dawn almost felt sorry for the boy, almost. "Mr. Hernandez, I think I'd rather work in the kitchen..." The lobster boy's last words infected Dawn with a fresh bout of giggles. She laughed harder than she had in a year.

Jeff stopped her just outside of the diner. Her giggles earned curious stares from passing strangers. "Dawn, have you lost your mind?" The smile on Jeff's face proved her laughter contagious.

"You--" Another giggle interrupted her sentence. "You beat up a lobster for me."

Jeff's smile halfway faded. "I would do anything for you."

He would. She knew he would. Dawn's heartbeat increased, chasing away the giggles. "That was the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me," she said.

"Was it?" Jeff asked. His mossy eyes searched her own. Dawn tried to look at the ground but the pockmarked cement, discarded chewing gum and lone penny seemed far less interesting than Jeff did, so she focused on his scuffed hiking shoes.

He was right, of course. Foam lobsters trapped in car doors weren't so weird. Her relationship with her brother, now that was weird, as well as strained, pained and a thousand other adjectives.

***

The sandwiches were overcooked and the onion rings slimy and raw, but still, lunch was amazing. Dawn remained easy to talk to and fun to be with, the perfect date. The morning had been difficult for Jeff and the evening would be excruciating, but for one little hour, crammed into a tiny booth at the Maine Street Diner, everything felt perfect.

Dawn finished the last bite of her grilled cheese sandwich and chased it down with a long swig from a chocolate-malt milkshake. She opened her mouth and released a very long, throaty burp. He snatched an onion ring from his plate and pitched it at her. The ring bounced off her chest, leaving a spot of grease and a scattering of crumbs on the snug t-shirt. "That wasn't very ladylike," he said.

"I know." Her long fingernails swept the crumbs from the shirt. "Roger hates it when I burp. He thinks it's disgusting." Jeff wondered how anyone could ever find anything about his kid sister disgusting. She cupped her hand to the side of her mouth and whispered conspiratorially, "He has major problems with bodily functions."

"Then he should never visit a locker room." Dawn giggled at his words for a moment. Jeff handed her an onion ring, which she popped in her mouth. "Don't you think it's weird that a doctor is afraid of a little burp?" he asked. "The guy dissected dead people in medical school."

"We all have our deep, dark secrets," few deeper or darker than the secret the Kramer siblings shared. "Steer clear of burps and farts and you'll see Roger is a really great guy."

"I guess he would have to be great," Jeff conceded, "to marry you." He sipped the last few drops of vanilla milkshake through a fat red straw. When it came to milkshakes, Jeff was normally a chocolate or strawberry kind of guy; at that moment, however, he felt inconsolably vanilla. "I think I'll get another," he said, rising from the booth.

"You've already had two." She cracked a smile. "Aren't you finely tuned athletes supposed to drink gross stuff, like raw eggs and wheat juice?"

"Football season started two weeks ago. With all the time I spend in the training room, I could drink a dozen of these things and not gain a pound." He exaggerated more than a little. A pro contract and the modest amount of money that came with it had given Jeff the incentive to get in better shape, but he was still far from a gym rat. "I don't switch to the nasty stuff until the off-season." He made the trip to the counter, returning with a full glass. The hand-dipped vanilla milkshake was topped with a mountain of whipped cream and dark chocolate shavings. A plump maraschino cherry balanced on top of it all.

Dawn grabbed the cherry by the woody stem and sucked the fruit in her mouth. "That was a switch," she said. "Usually, it's you who takes the cherries." Her chocolate stained lips parted in a sad smile, an understanding smile. "Jeff, are you..." She trailed off. She sipped her malt then took a breath for courage. She tried again. "Are you alone?" At first, Jeff ignored the question. He finished the last of the onion rings then picked the greasy crumbs from the plate. He couldn't ignore her forever. "Are you?" 

"No," he admitted, "not alone very often, I mean."

"I'm glad you're still breaking hearts." 

Breaking hearts, that was the old Jeff. The new Jeff never lacked for company but it was always a one-night stand, two at the most, and only with the type of girl who didn't expect a phone call the next day. He stayed away from nice girls. A nice girl had broken his heart. 

"The nights get pretty cold up in Calgary, and beautiful women make great bed warmers." 

Dawn dabbed at her lips with a brown paper napkin. A bit of red tinted her freckled cheeks. Jealousy? He hoped so. "Is that why you never came home; because you were too busy with your whores?" Definitely jealousy.

"I didn't want to stay away. Hell, I didn't want to leave in the first place. You're the one who stopped loving me!" Unchecked emotions forced his voice louder than intended. Every eye in the diner fell on their table.

She used a clean napkin to catch a tear. "You have no idea how much I missed you. Thanksgiving, Christmas, our birthdays, I prayed you would come home. I waited by the phone, sometimes for hours. You never called, not once. There were so many times when I needed my big brother." She wanted to say more, but it seemed difficult. "I never stopped, Jeff...I never stopped loving you."

She fled the diner before he could even consider a response. Jeff deposited a twenty dollar bill on the dirty table (he hoped the money would cover the check) and hurried after her. He chased his kid sister down Maine Street. She was quicker than he remembered, but his long strides chipped away at the distance. He called out as she dashed across 12th Street. In his haste, Jeff ignored the traffic light. "Don't Walk" flashed in dull red letters. Brakes screeched and horns honked as he darted across the busy street. His peripheral vision caught a flash of forest green. An enormous Land Rover skidded to a halt just inches before it slammed into his torso. Jeff tripped over the curb, landing with a thud on the pitted sidewalk. The driver of the Land Rover shut off her cell phone and added her shrill voice to the chorus of horns.

Dawn reached for him. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" She took him by the arm and led him as far from the street as possible. She pressed him against the red brick façade of the National Bank building, where she examined his hands and his face. "Only a few scrapes," she said. The skin on his palms stung like hell from bracing himself in the fall, but he'd live.

She brought his hands to her lips and lightly kissed each palm. As the pain melted so did his heart. Two precious dimples accompanied Dawn's equally precious smile. Trapped heat radiated from the dark red bricks, warming his back. Dawn pressed close to his front, radiating heat of her own. He touched her neck and her face. She was just as soft as he remembered.

Beads of moisture formed amongst the freckles on her cheeks. She turned pinker with each touch. By the time she closed her eyes, her breath had grown as harried as his.

She knew. They both knew. The kiss was unavoidable. 

He leaned close, tasting her soft lips for the first time in so long. Her protest consisted of a nasally squeak and a feeble attempt to push away. Kissing Dawn had to be the only thing more exhilarating than being with Dawn. To passersby they were a painfully normal couple expressing their painfully normal love on a city sidewalk. Despite its obvious wrongness, having her in his arms in front of so many people felt so right he could hardly stand it.

Her hands roamed his back, exploring the muscles acquired since their last intimate encounter. "Jeff, we can't do this." The kiss ended, but he continued to caress Dawn's freckled cheek. "We can't. Please stop."

"I can't stop," he said, kissing the crook of her neck.

"You could if you loved me enough."

That was a rotten thing to say. He did love her, more than anything in the world. This time it was Jeff who fled. He had nowhere to go except back to Elmwood Lane, back to Dawn's pink station wagon, so that's where he ran. Dawn looked redder than usual when she caught up. Her shirt had darkened under the arms; she looked sticky and sweaty. "Jeff, why---"

"I can't stay. I look at you and...and..." His words were clumsy. "I feel like I'm losing you all over. I can't bear it, not again." He wanted to retreat to the hotel to gather his luggage then hop the next flight to Calgary. He placed his palms on the hood of the car. The cruel metal stung his skin, so he pulled away.

"Please, don't leave." She took one of his enormous hands with both of hers. "I still need you. I'll always need my big brother." 

That's why he couldn't stay. A year ago, when she looked him in the eyes and told him she didn't love him, it was the end of the big brother and the birth of the ex-lover. Any pretense that he'd returned to support Dawn evaporated like smoke. He would do anything to ruin the wedding. Why else would he have returned? He couldn't be trusted; leaving was the only option.

She must have sensed his eagerness to escape. Dawn wrapped her arms around his back and held on for the longest time, wordlessly begging him to stay.

"I'll try," he said, his voice absent of promise. He helped her dry her tears before accepting a silent ride to his hotel.

To be continued...

I hope you liked this first chapter of Light of Dusk. Three more chapters will follow in daily intervals. Please feel free to vote and/or leave feedback. Your opinions are my only reward. 



Light of Dusk Ch. 02



Thanks to Chargergirl for all her help.

Jeff slipped into a bone-white linen sport coat and checked his appearance in the mirror. The suit looked a little off without the silk tie, but on a sticky summer evening, he didn't dare dress too formally. 

Reaching into his pocket, he discovered that his wallet was missing. Jeff searched the pressboard dresser, so graciously provided by the Autumn Inn motel chain; he searched the equally chintzy nightstand. No luck. He was about to call the front desk when he spotted the brown leather wallet on the center of the bed, exactly where he had set it before changing. Jeff silently cursed the fact that only one person could frazzle his nerves so severely.

A knock at the door startled him. It couldn't be the taxi. According to the clock radio, an hour remained before the wedding rehearsal began. Jeff opened the door to a familiar face, Vince Kramer, his father. "Dad?"

His father smiled uncomfortably. "Your sister wanted to make sure you hadn't skipped town."

"Skip town and miss meeting my future brother." Jeff buttoned his jacket, and then just as quickly unbuttoned it. He fiddled with the beige handkerchief in the breast pocket, unable to fold it properly. "What kind of man would that make me?"

"A completely normal one," his father answered.

Normal? No, that isn't the right word. Not even close. With a huff, Jeff stuffed the golden handkerchief in his pocket. "Yellow Cab is on the way. I don't need a chaperone."

Vince Kramer extracted the handkerchief and carefully refolded it on the bed. He slipped it into Jeff's breast pocket as Jeff smothered a nervous yawn. A quick glance in the mirror revealed a perfect three-point fold. "God, look at you." Uh-oh, he's about to get sentimental. "When did this happen?" He took one of Jeff's long arms and squeezed the bicep.

"High school, I think."

"High school my foot; you were a beanpole when you played for Curtis High. They must be feeding you something up north."

"No, the food in Calgary is just like the food down here, except they call ham bacon." 

Vince chuckled. He and Jeff maintained a tense sort of peace. After Mom died, they were so hostile to one another for so very long. "You know, if you want to save on that taxi you can ride with me. Wouldn't hurt to get there early. Dawn could sure use the company."

"I'm sure Dawn won't be hurting for attention. She is the bride, after all."

"Nosy relatives and jealous friends aren't the kind of company she needs. The poor kid has been all nerves lately. When she came home from lunch this afternoon, she actually looked almost happy. That sunny smile of hers has been missing for such a long time."

"At least one of us had a good time," Jeff said.

"Jeff, I know how you feel." Vince thrust his hands in his pockets. "Losing someone you care about is difficult." Vince had four older sisters; it was safe to assume he hadn't felt the same at any of their weddings. 

"Dad, it isn't the same with you and your sisters. Dawn and I, we---"

"I was talking about your mother." 

Suspecting his father might know the truth about he and Dawn was both terrifying and liberating. 

"When Claire died I thought my world was over. I was so depressed for so long, and I let that depression affect the people I loved, especially you." Jeff remembered the last time they'd talked about Mom. He'd ended up with a bruised cheek and a bloody nose. "Claire, your mom, she was everything to me. It hurt so much when she died; it still does. What hurts even more is that I was there for your sister but never for you."

"Dawn was so young. She needed you more."

"I never thought you hurt as much as she did."

"They told me not to cry. I had to be strong for you and Dawn, Grandpa, and Uncle William, and everyone else said so. But I missed Mom so much it hurt. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know anything except that I couldn't cry. There were nights when I couldn't sleep."

"Jesus," Vince Kramer rubbed his temples. "What kind of terrible father am I? I should have been there for you. We should have spent more time together, talked." They could have done all that. It would have made a pretty Hallmark Cards commercial, but it wouldn't have made Jeff happy. It wouldn't have brought Mom back.

"She would be proud of you. You know that?" Jeff looked at the floor. He loved praise but only where merited. "It took a little while, but you turned out to be the kind of man she always wanted you to be."

"Mom wanted me to be a marginally successful quarterback in the Canadian league?"

Vince chuckled. "She wanted you to be brave, and you are, Jeff, braver than any kid has a right to be." Vince Kramer opened his arms. When Jeff made no move to engage the hug, Vince extended his hand. "I'm proud of you," Vince said, as they tensely shook hands.

Jeff made little attempt to reconcile with his father. What was the point? He didn't know about Jeff's relationship with Dawn after all; he most certainly wouldn't have been proud of that.

"Are you ready?" Vince asked.

"Not really." Jeff checked his hip pocket, ensuring his wallet was accounted for. He gave a sideways nod toward the door.

Vince touched Jeff's back and smiled, pretending to understand.

Jeff hopped in the passenger seat of his father's minivan. After a short drive, they ended up not at the expected banquet hall but in front of a very familiar house.

"Why did you bring me home?" Jeff asked.

"Because we need to talk some more. And not in some motel room or crowded banquet hall." Vince reached up, pressing the garage door opener that was clipped to the visor. 

"There's one problem with your little kidnapping plot, my cell phone. I have the taxi company's number."

"Too bad you left your phone on the motel dresser. Let's talk in the garage."

Jeff settled into the role of hostage. The van door slowly creaked open and he climbed out. "No offense, Dad, but when we talk bad stuff happens." He did the best to chase the sarcasm from his voice.

After mom died, they attempted to maintain the illusion of a loving father and adoring son, for Dawn's sake, if nothing else. Jeff went so far as to join the high school baseball team his father managed. The illusion of their relationship was irreparably fractured when Jeff abruptly quit baseball to focus his talents on football. Ignoring Jeff's obvious talents, his father had taken the move as a personal slight.

Vince flipped on the garage lights. Beneath the hundred-watt glare of a naked light bulb was the canvas-draped silhouette of a very familiar machine. Vince lifted the canvas veil from the exterior of the canary-yellow Thunderbird. Jeff had worked so hard to restore that car. If he wasn't at practice, or out with some girl, he was under the hood.

The Thunderbird looked different, very different. A fat purple stripe now ran the length of the exterior. Another thick stripe blemished the hood and top.

"You had it painted?" Jeff could think of nothing to say. He just stared, mouth agape. 

"That's pretty much the same reaction Dawn had." Vince Kramer sighed. "I wanted her to drive it, at least until you came back."

Once the initial shock wore off, Jeff decided it wasn't so bad, different, maybe, but not bad. "Purple?" he asked, "What were you thinking?"

"It's plum, actually."

"She can't drive a stick." 

"I know, even after all those lessons you gave her."

Jeff thought of the many afternoons he and Dawn had spent together. As brilliant as she was, she never could quite grasp the many nuances of the manual transmission. That was okay; the driving lessons were more of an excuse to spend time together.

Jeff nodded. "And you bring me home because you somehow think you can make peace between us?"

"We need to make peace; it's long overdue."

Jeff felt his stomach churn. Those pesky emotions would wreak havoc if he didn't suppress them. His heart slowed just a bit and his breathing steadied. You cheated on Mom. He wanted to scream. Was his father so thickheaded he couldn't understand the consequences of infidelity? Marriages are ruined; entire families are ruined. 

"Why would I ever forgive you?" he asked.

"Because you are your mother's son." Vince Kramer licked the pad of his thumb and cleaned a smudge from the hood of the Thunderbird. He didn't make eye contact.

"Oh no!" Jeff said. "If you want forgiveness or unconditional love, you're talking with the wrong Kramer child. Wide-eyed innocence is Dawn's thing, not mine."

"I see a lot of her influence in you; you know that?"

Was he talking about Mom? 

The Thunderbird was unlocked. Jeff opened the door and sat inside. He sniffed the warm, stale air. Every distinct odor carried a memory: the ammonia of glass cleaner, the woodiness of air freshener, and the pungency of sweaty football pads. Commanding his attention above all the rest was the amalgamation of demure feminine odors. He leaned over to the passenger headrest and inhaled the sweet scent of strawberry shampoo, and lilac perfume. Dawn's scent clung to the upholstery, refusing to let go. He remembered the many nights she had sat next to him in the darkened corner of Corrigan Park and the way her freckled cheeks tinted pink when he leaned in for a kiss.

Jeff leaned back against his own headrest. Dawn wasn't with him; she was halfway across town, eagerly awaiting her soon-to-be husband in a rented banquet hall.

His dad opened the passenger door and climbed inside. "You know, your mom---"

"Shut up, Dad. Just, shut the fuck up!" Jeff's head thumped against the headrest three times. "Stop pretending like we're still a family. It's a delusion. Mom is dead; yeah, I get it. Let's all move on. 

"Do you know what's happening? Do you have any idea?" Try as he might, Jeff just couldn't bury his emotions deep enough. "No, you're probably glad. Once she's gone you can concentrate on your true love, being a miserable old man."

Jeff shrugged the reassuring hand from his shoulder. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel as the first humiliating tear dripped from the bridge of his nose.

"Come on," Vince said. "We don't want to be late. Your sister would kill me."

All four aunts were at the rehearsal dinner, Grandma too. All gushed when they saw Jeff in his sharp sport coat. They told him how handsome and grown up he looked. He wanted to remind them he'd been handsome and grown up for quite a few years, but he bit his tongue. Let them gush, he thought. The abuse he received, the hugs and smeared lipstick, would be nothing compared to seeing Dawn in the arms of that other man.

Lovely as always, that particular night Dawn could have been the poster girl for unabashed femininity. Her long red hair had been teased into very loose coils. Pink polish ornamented her fingernails and a light layer of makeup softened already soft features. The dress though, a little black number that accentuated her ivory-fair skin, that's what drew stares, even from the old men. He could see a bit of her fiancé Roger in all of them, wishing, hoping, drooling beside their own wives, each man longing for a young, lithe, twenty-one-year-old bride of his own. How disgusting.

She was never alone, not even for a moment. Well-wishers constantly haloed the blushing bride. He recognized his own family: Grandma Len, Mom's favorite cousin Eddie. Dad's sisters were all there, and their kids, and their kids' kids.

He also recognized two of Dawn's little girlfriends, though neither of them were girls anymore. Tara was still a tiny thing, but she'd finally filled out, proving that the Wonder Bra truly was a wonder. And Jenny, is that really Jenny?, had slimmed to the point of being barely recognizable. More than once he heard a low, throaty laugh from across the banquet room and realized that, yes, it truly was Jenny.

He spent a little time with them both. Tara remained as adorable as ever. Her blond hair had been cropped ultra short and a cluster of silver rings dangled from her little ears. She would be a sophomore this fall at Iowa State, where she had been named captain of the women's soccer team. There were whispers that she was a serious candidate for the women's Olympic team, whispers she had no doubt started herself. 

Tara remained passionate about her sport. He could tell as much while she regaled him with tales of headers and last second bicycle kicks. As much as Jeff liked sports, soccer had always been an unappealing game. He didn't know a yellow card from a Christmas card, so he attempted to steer the conversation in a different direction. Tara would have none of it. God, am I this obnoxious when I brag about football games? Jeff inwardly groaned and decided he probably was.

Jenny was more accommodating, to the ears as well as the eyes. She had always seemed attractive in a rubenesque sort of way, but now she was pinup material. The extra padding she once carried around her belly and hips had melted away. Her chest, however, remained untouched by the weight loss, seeming even more impressive on such a slender body.

The exterior may have dramatically changed but on the inside, she was still the same shy Jenny. They had slept together on two separate occasions, the second time ending in disaster when he called out his kid sister's name during orgasm. The ring on her finger reminded him just how long ago that had been. 

She was married to a great guy who worked in financial planning. They were happy and in love and had already named all of the children they would be having. His name was Mark, and he would have been on her arm had he not had an allergic reaction to a bee sting that afternoon.

A bee sting? What a great excuse to miss out on the fun of the rehearsal. Jeff wished he'd thought of it first. It looks like finances aren't all this Mark guy plans. 

Time and again, Jeff cursed himself for coming home, and he cursed himself for attending the stupid wedding rehearsal. Dawn appeared relaxed as she shook hands and exchanged pecks with her guests. She looked happy; the realization made him feel foolish for ever imagining he could change her mind.

He checked his watch: eight o' clock. The rehearsal was scheduled for seven. He wondered what kind of groom couldn't clear his schedule long enough to do a walkthrough wedding. Jeff sighed, wishing he was back in his hotel room, not sitting at the bar filling his bladder with warm ginger ale.

A commotion raised in the crowded banquet hall. Jeff glanced to the door just in time to see Dawn leap into the arms of a short, thick-bodied man, her Roger. She squealed as he spun her twice. As the hem rose dangerously close to her panty line, Jeff became keenly aware of just how little her little black dress truly was.

The happy couple's kiss was long enough to make Jeff queasy. People he didn't recognize gathered around. They shouted, hooted, and hugged the groom-to-be. Roger's people, he realized. Jeff spun on the barstool and asked for another glass of ginger ale. 

He was sick of soda and sick of weddings. For the billionth time since going sober, he was seriously tempted to ask for a shot of whiskey or tequila or anything that would numb his brain. He didn't though. He spent the next half hour watching the ice cubes melt in his ginger ale, taking only the occasional sip.

"And just who is this guy?" The last lingering thread of Jeff's patience severed. The happy groom smiled down on him, one thick arm wrapped tightly around Dawn. Roger looked just as he had in the picture: stocky, unremarkable and way too old. Jeff climbed off the barstool to shake hands. From his vantage point, he could see more than a few gray hairs sprouting from the top of Dr. Roger's head. "Wow! She told me you were big, but I had no idea. Good to finally meet you, bro." Jeff nearly choked on ginger ale when Roger called him that.

Dawn wriggled from Roger's hold to smack Jeff's back, as he coughed up a lungful of soda. "Got to watch it, bro. That Canada Dry is some heavy stuff." Roger bellowed as Jeff's lungs finally settled down.

"Yeah," Jeff said, massaging his burning throat. "Normally I drink 7-Up. I must..." He coughed one last time. "I must be a little homesick."

The words soared over Roger's plump head, but Dawn giggled at her brother's oxygen-deprived attempt at humor. "Dawn tells me that you play football."

"Yeah, I'm in the Canadian league at the moment."

"The Canadian league?" Roger ruffled his graying hair and smiled. "Isn't the Canadian League where they send the guys who aren't good enough for the NFL?" He never gave Jeff a chance to respond. "Well, you'll always have your number-one fan right here." He put his arm around Dawn and roughly squeezed. "Every Saturday she's at Daddy's house, watching Big Brother Jeff play on the plasma screen." That bit of news raised Jeff's spirits but seemed to dampen Dawn's. "She's told me everything about you."

"Everything?" croaked Jeff. His throat still burned from the soda.

"Oh yeah, everything, your records, your stats. She won't shut up about her big brother, the football star." Jeff sighed with relief. She clearly hadn't told Roger everything. "If you ever need someone to be president of your fan club, my little Dawn here would be the perfect choice."

The corner of Jeff's mouth lifted in a smirk he directed at Dawn. "Won't shut up about me, huh?" She bit her lip, and her face went pink.

"You know how sisters are," Roger said. Jeff nodded. He knew how his sister was. "My sister Jesse practically worships me. She went to medical school just to follow in my footsteps." Roger pointed a stubby finger at a well-dressed brunette across the room. "She's a real beauty isn't she?" Jeff nodded. Roger's sister was actually quite lovely, in a buttoned-down, pant-suit-wearing-professional sort of way. Roger waved his arm and beckoned his sister over. "I want you to meet her." The woman excused herself from the guy she was chatting with and started over. "I hope you don't think she's too old for you." Roger's elbow poked Jeff's ribs causing him to cough up another mouthful of soda.

"Jesse!" Roger grabbed his kid sister in a bear hug. The display of normal sibling affection made Jeff feel just as uncomfortable as Dawn looked. Roger released his sister and motioned towards Jeff. "Jesse, this is Jeff Kramer, Dawn's great-big brother."

Jeff offered a hand and a smirk. "I'm not that great."

Jesse flashed a smirk of her own. Her complexion was dusky, almost exotically so. "That's not the way Dawn tells it." She turned to Roger and scowled. "When is this damned rehearsal supposed to get started? Unlike some people," she poked her brother in the chest, "I have work tomorrow." 

This time Roger scowled. "I have a bit of a situation. My buddy, Bennett, is supposed to be the best man, but he was called to the ER because some schmuck swallowed a chicken bone. I'm having a bit of trouble finding a replacement."

"What about Stretch Armstrong here?" Jesse touched Jeff's shoulder. "He's the best man I've seen all night."

"No," Dawn said, "I don't think---"

"What do you say, bro? Are you up to it?" Roger cocked his head.

"You don't have to," Dawn said, smearing a bead of sweat across her brow. She was supremely rattled by the prospect of her big brother playing the part of best man. How could he refuse?

Exhibiting his best behavior, Jeff played his part and played it well. Once the rehearsal ended the buffet line was quick to form, too quick for Jeff. He kept a safe distance, watching curiously as the banquet hall transformed into a battle royal of grumbling stomachs and hungry mouths. He was not the only straggler. The groom's younger sister, Jesse, waited her turn beside him. She was the very definition of casual, checking the finish on her fingernails as two old women argued over the burnt end of a brisket. 




Light of Dusk Ch. 02



"How was your first taste of wedding madness?" Jesse asked. Jeff stuck out his tongue and made a rude noise. "I can see you're especially mature for your age."

"You have to be mature to make it through med school," Jeff wasn't feeling particularly flirty, but it flowed from him anyhow. "All those late nights in the morgue, carving up dead bodies like it was Transylvanian Thanksgiving, how else can a man retain his sanity?"

She found it amusing that he was still playing the role of the wedding's absent best man, Doctor Bennett. "Just where did you go to medical school, Doctor? The University of Frankenstein? You won't fool many people with that shtick. You're way too young to be a doctor as prominent as Wesley Bennett."

"You should know that acting is one of my many talents. In junior high, I starred in the end-all-be-all production of Oklahoma!. I played Curly and Jud and I would have played the chick had I not looked so awful in calico. It was a tour de force performance."

Her meticulously penciled eyebrow arched. "Okay, Mr. Actor, we'll see if you can fool Dr. Westfield." Jesse, obviously as bored as he, led Jeff to a nattily attired splinter, whose gray pinstriped suit smelled like antiseptic and mothballs. Jeff had a hard time suppressing a gag. "Dr. Bennett this is Dr. Henry Westfield." She smirked at Jeff. "He's a proctologist too."

Oh good Lord! Jeff shook hands with the older man, silently blessing whoever had invented the sterile latex glove. "Nice to meet you, Doctor."

The older man peered at Jeff through thick bifocal glasses balanced on a beak of a nose. "Dr. Bennett, yes, now I remember; we've consulted over the phone a time or two. Though I must say you look younger than I imagined."

"I get that a lot," he glanced at Dawn, who was helping Roger pile sliced ham on a porcelain dish. "It must be good genes."

Jeff snapped his fingers, suddenly remembering a dumb old locker room joke. "Hey, speaking of phones: What do proctologists and the phone company have in common?" He poked Dr. Westfield with his index finger. "They both like to reach out and touch someone." The older doctor smiled sourly.

After a few more sophomoric butt jokes, Jesse dragged Jeff away, unable to suppress her laughter any longer. "I can't believe you asked Dr. Westfield what he thought of the rectum as a whole."

"I personally think it should be wiped out," Jeff delivered the punch line as deadpan as possible.

She laughed again. "Come on Curly-slash-Jud. I'm starving, and it looks like the buffet line is finally manageable." She took him by the hand and led him straight to the baked ham. The ham dripped honey and melted brown sugar, as the attendant carved the exquisitely pink meat. She grabbed a white porcelain plate and sniffed the sweet aroma. A set of brilliant teeth evidenced her approval. She looked at him with brown, doe eyes, as soft and as warm as her dusky skin. "It looks really good."

He agreed.

After they filled their plates with ham, salad, and broccoli rice, Jeff scanned the banquet hall for a place to sit. "I've never heard of a wedding rehearsal with so many guests," he said. Everyone invited to the wedding itself seemed to be there.

"This is my brother's work," she said. "He never does anything halfway." 

Tara waved her arm wildly, drawing his attention to a seat between herself and Jenny. Jesse caught his arm. "Uh-uh, forget the kiddy table. We have reserved seats." She led him to a pair of empty seats at the bride and groom's table. Jesse took the seat to the right, flanking her mother, while Jeff settled into the seat to the left, beside Dawn.

"You look beautiful tonight," Roger told Dawn. He chewed a piece of ham with his mouth open. Dawn, modest as ever, denied the fact. "Doesn't she look beautiful, bro?"

Jeff cringed. If Roger didn't stop calling him "bro," he would...he would... He wasn't quite sure what he'd do. Nevertheless, he considered the question. Showing just the right amount of skin and wearing just the right amount of makeup, Dawn had never looked lovelier. "You look good," he mumbled.

Jeff chewed a piece of warm ham, desperate to distract himself.

"Better than good," Roger squeezed her freckled shoulder, "Though, I wish you weren't wearing black. You know how much better you look in light colors." He turned to Jeff with a perplexed look. "She won't even wear white for the wedding tomorrow. What's the use of saving yourself if you don't wear white?"

Jeff sucked in a piece of ham that clogged his air passage. He choked and coughed as water flowed copiously from his eyes. For the umpteenth time that day, all eyes fell on Jeff. His head felt light. He needed oxygen. Half the guests were doctors, yet no one lifted a finger.

Jeff dipped his long neck and struggled to hack up the ham. Slowly but surely, his air passage opened as Jesse and Dawn alternated turns smacking at his back. He had never tasted anything so wonderful as the first bit of air that cooled his tongue. Strong arms encircled his waist. Jeff was lifted from the seat, lifted from his very feet. Roger tardily applied the Heimlich maneuver. The piece of ham flew from Jeff's mouth into the basket he made with his palms.

"Oh my God! Are you alright?" Dawn wrapped her arms around Jeff's neck, squeezing tight.

"He needs air, Dawn." Jesse pulled her away while Jeff gorged his lungs. 

As if nothing had happened, everyone in the banquet hall turned their attentions back to their own meals. Jeff slouched in his seat, pushing the plate away. He would grab a nice, soft burrito on the way home. Death by ham was not how he planned to go.

For saving his future brother, Roger was hailed as the hero. Forget the fact that Jeff had cleared his throat on his own and Roger had only managed to bruise a few ribs.

"Close call, eh bro?" Roger's thick hand found Jeff's shoulder and squeezed.

"I could use a beer," Jesse announced. "Do you want anything from the bar?" She raised her sculpted eyebrows at Jeff. A beer sounded good, three or four sounded better. Instead, he asked for another ginger ale.

"I'll take a beer," Roger said.

His sister smirked. "Then get off your fat ass and get one." Roger laughed and did just that. 

Jeff and Dawn were certainly not alone, Roger's mother and stepfather, Roger's father, their own father and a handful of other guests crowded the oblong table. Yet somehow, without Jesse or the groom-to-be, it seemed like the siblings were on an island. Dawn pushed a forkful of mashed potatoes across the plate while Jeff nibbled on a safe-looking piece of lettuce.

"You and Jesse seem to be hitting it off." Dawn poked at the mashed potatoes, trying hard not to look at him.

"She's a nice girl. I haven't met many nice girls lately."

"Girl?" Dawn frowned at him. "She's a thirty-two-year-old woman."

An engagement to a man nearly twice her age put Dawn in no position to preach this particular sermon. Jeff put on his smug face, determined to make her suffer. "She's younger than Roger."

"It's more than just her age. Jesse's a doctor. She's a neurotic, twice-divorced chain smoker. Stay away from her, Jeff. Your cute little doe is a walking train wreck."

Considering what she was putting him through, she had no right to be jealous. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "You're not over me, are you?" The warmth of his breath and the way his lips lingered near her ear made her squirm. He knew how to push a woman's buttons, especially this woman.

"We can't have this conversation," she said. 

Jeff disagreed. This particular conversation was long overdue. "When you stood in that airport terminal and said you didn't love me, you were lying. Lying to me and lying to yourself. Roger was joking around when he said you practically worshipped me, but I think he was right." 

"Jeff, stop it. I don't...I don't feel that way, not anymore." She directed the words at the mashed potatoes on her plate, not at him.

"Answer me one question and be completely honest. Why haven't you slept with him?" She didn't answer. "He thinks you're a virgin, Dawn. What are you going to tell him? Will you tell him about me, about us? Or will you lie? We both know how good you are at that."

Dawn covered her face to mask the hurt as Roger and Jesse returned. When she saw how they laughed and smiled like normal siblings, Dawn scooted her chair from the table and ran as fast as the chunky heels of her pumps would allow.

Jeff rubbed his mouth with the cloth napkin. He had reverted to the old Jeff Kramer far too many times today. Maybe that's who he truly was inside. He could try to be charming, fun, and innocuous, but deep down he was still the monster who had claimed his little sister's body in the service tunnel beneath Jackson Field. No wonder she hated him. At that moment, he hated himself.

Roger exchanged a puzzled look with Jesse. "Should I talk to her?" he asked. 

"No," Jesse said. She handed Jeff the sweating glass of ginger ale. "I think this is a family matter."

He found Dawn in the torch lit courtyard of the Italian restaurant across the street. She stood before the large marble fountain of Apollo's chariot, digging through her sleek black handbag.

Jeff reached into his hip pocket and extracted a penny. "Old habits die hard," he said, handing her the coin.

She closed her eyes and tossed the coin in the fountain. When she opened them again, she smiled shyly. "It embarrasses Roger when I do that. He thinks wishes are dumb." A tear raced down her dimpled cheek.

"Who cares what Roger thinks?" He pulled the folded handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed her cheek, drying a tear. As she wore little makeup, the golden handkerchief came away clean. Jeff tucked the scrap of cloth in his pants pocket. "Do the wishes ever come true?" he asked. She looked at his feet and nodded. "Then they're not dumb."

The restaurant was on the edge of an urban park. The gold of the full moon, filtered by the lush boughs of a goliath pin oak tree, illuminated the nighttime sky. Crickets sang amongst the shrubbery; their calls echoed over the babbling fountain, creating a serene symphony. For the first time in a very long time, Jeff Kramer felt a kind of peace. The feeling was short lived. After tonight, the girl he longed to share these types of moments with would be lost to him forever. He didn't want Jesse, Jenny, Tara or any other woman. He only wanted Dawn.

"You know, you could just walk away from everything. You could come with me to my motel, or back to Calgary, or anywhere you wanted."

She nodded because she knew.

Before the unbridgeable gulf of marriage opened up between them, he had to know why she would choose someone as unremarkable as Roger over someone like him. "What does he have that I don't?"

Looking up to the stars, she murmured the answer, "A different last name." 

Jeff sighed. The truth was far crueler than he had ever been. Cruel as it was, the very nature of their relationship was not the only reason for the breakup. He had been her brother when they first kissed, as well as when they first made love. The sex had been sweet despite the savagery of his clumsiness, sweet because of her.

"You're wrong you know?" Her words lingered, drawing him from his own thoughts. "You always put everything on your own shoulders, like you did something horrible to lose me." Hadn't he? For more than a year, Jeff wracked his brain, trying to think of ways he could have behaved differently.

"You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect." Total lies, yet she sounded so sincere. "Sure, there was a time when you were difficult to be around, but you got past that. You turned your life around. You stopped drinking. And the parties, you quit those, too. Who else could have done it?" She snapped her fingers for emphasis, "Just like that. You can do anything if you set your mind, Jeff."

"No...no," he said, "I can't, not without you." 

When he reached out, she moved away. Jeff longed to hold her. No other woman was as sweet, trusting, or forgiving. They were qualities he never searched for in a woman, yet he knew they made all the difference. She had looked past his imperfections, his ugly bitterness, and found something good and beautiful where other women had found only the star quarterback, an emotionally voided foothold they could use to gain popularity.

Looking at his sister's moonlit body, he had a startling realization of why Roger had won the heart of this most perfect creature. He, Jeff Kramer, wasn't good enough for her. No, Jeff wasn't suddenly suffering from some kind of late-onset inferiority complex; he had simply taken his sweet time in realizing the obvious.

Roger could give her support, both financial and emotional; he could give her an enormous wedding and a lavish honeymoon; and he could give her countless numbers of fat, ugly little babies.

Dawn touched a tear as it wandered down his cheek. "I'm feeling braver," she said, "If you want, we can go back in." She took his hand, threaded her fingers through his, and led Jeff back to the rehearsal dinner.

To be continued...

Your opinions are my only reward. Don't forget to rate the story and/or comment.



Light of Dusk Ch. 03



Thanks to Chargergirl for all her help.

During the waning minutes of the rehearsal dinner, the banquet hall tabletops sat empty, with the exception of dirty plates and used napkins. Though most of the guests had vacated, Dawn remained seated, a half-eaten meal taunting her. Roger tried his best to force her to eat, going so far as to offer her tiny bites of the expensive sugar-cured ham on the end of his fork. Behaving more like a father than a fiancé, he cut the meat into tiny triangles and begged her to eat.

Jeff watched her the entire time. Dawn knew because she watched him. Her brother tried to reclaim a casual demeanor after their talk by the fountain, but she could see the way he squirmed. Jeff needed to get away; like her, he must have felt a need to forget.

Many of Roger's friends had retired for the evening. Roger's sister, Jesse, had an early appointment with a patient the next morning, so she had evacuated too. Guests slowly peeled away, until the dwindling numbers included only very close friends and family. Before Roger hijacked the guest list, these were the only people Dawn had planned to invite to the dinner.

Roger tapped the side of his beer glass with a silver-plated butter knife, producing a nerve-grating ping. He cleared his throat before standing.

"Woo hoo, speech!" Tara shouted. She flashed a pair of thumbs at Roger, and then excitedly downed another flute of champagne. Dawn wondered if her tiny blonde friend was as drunk as she looked.

"Thank you...for that, Tara." Roger regarded Dawn's youngest friend distastefully. He regarded Tara as a bad influence on Dawn. She was not one of his favorite people. Tara stuck out her tongue in response, proving that the feeling was mutual.

Roger cleared his throat and began anew: "I see a lot of family still here. You're all such special people. Some of us had never met before tonight." For some reason, Roger leaned on Jeff's shoulder. "I want you to know how much I love my little Dawn. She's an old soul, someone I feel like I've known my entire life."

She listened to Roger but kept watching her brother. Jeff squirmed beneath Roger's meaty hand. She could sense how much he wanted to get away. She wanted to get away, herself.

"Jeff," Roger clapped Jeff's shoulder. "I want you and Vince to know that I'll take good care of her." 

He reached into his suit, extracting a square of paper from the inside breast pocket. The square unfolded like a roadmap, expanding to reveal a computer rendering of an office building. He smoothed the sheet out, spreading it across the cleared dining table.

"We're calling it the Midtown Medical Center. Checkups, specialists, X-Rays, even cosmetic surgery, every outpatient procedure imaginable will be done at the Center. Bennett and I are splitting the costs. The contractors have already broken ground, and we should be in business by the end of next year." 

Splitting the costs? Dr. Bennett was a very old, very rich man. Roger was relatively young, as far as doctors go; he hadn't had time to amass the same kind of fortune. She knew Roger never lacked for money, but the project looked exorbitantly expensive. 

Roger's face sagged as he gauged Dawn's reaction. "Aren't you excited? I thought you would be excited."

Dawn studied the rendering. She traced the floor plan of the building with her eyes, eventually coming upon the office labeled Dr. Roger Walker. "What about the hospital?" she asked. She knew how important working in County General's emergency room had been to him.

"No more County General," Roger said. "No more thirteen hour shifts, no more late nights, and best of all, I get to see my pretty little wife anytime I want."

Dawn's brow crinkled. She was the receptionist at Dr. Bennett's midtown office. She had initially met Roger through Doctor Bennett.

"You're going to work for me, Sweet Thing." He pinched her dimpled cheek in a disturbing, grandfatherly way. "I'll pay you twice what Bennett does, more than enough to quit those stupid night classes."

Dawn had dropped out at Choteau University. After the incidents with Jase Riley, and the unfair expulsion her brother had received for protecting her, Dawn knew she couldn't go on there. She had enrolled in night classes at the community college, taking a tentative first step towards earning a nursing certificate.

The medical center's estimated construction price was printed at the bottom of the page; she had never seen so many zeroes in her life. Other guests gathered around, oohing and ahhing at the grand scope of it all.

"You're a receptionist? Like with telephones and a rolodex and everything?" Jeff asked. He angled his chair to face her while everyone glimpsed at the building's floor plan. "What about the night classes?"

"They're mostly nursing classes. I'm trying to get my certificate."

"A nurse, huh?" He touched his nose, unintentionally drawing her attention to the knot where it had been broken. "Nurses are great, especially naughty nurses." 

She laughed, fighting off a sudden compulsion to rest her fingers on his long leg.

He looked down, focusing his attention on her trembling fingers. "I've seen your grades. You should be a doctor."

She scoffed in response and tucked her nervous hands under her thighs. "I'm not so smart." As she shifted in the seat, her little black dress rode up over her knees, exposing a healthy portion of her thighs. 

A touch on her shoulder diverted Dawn's attention from Jeff. Jenny leaned over, showing Dawn her cell phone for a brief moment. "Mark called. He's having a rough time from the bee sting. I guess he needs me to take care of him."

Dawn nodded. "Of course, totally." She got up and hugged her best friend. Jenny offered a goodbye to Jeff then took Dawn's hand and dragged her from the table.

Jenny's tiny eyes shrunk as she squinted at Dawn. She had something to say, in private. "Would you help me find the car? I'm not sure where I parked."

Once outside in the privacy of the street, Jenny voiced what she'd been reluctant to say indoors, around so many people. "Watching the two of you is killing me. He wants to ruin your life, and you're going to let him."

Jenny was no fan of Dawn's sudden engagement, yet she had never talked poorly of Roger before.

Dawn prepared to defend Roger for the umpteenth time that day. "When you and Mark eloped, I held your hand at the wedding chapel. I kept hoping you would come to your senses and call it off, or at least postpone it. I thought Mark was all wrong; I thought he was pressuring you. I was wrong. Mark's a good guy and so is Roger."

"Dawn, I'm not..."

She didn't want to argue. Daddy, Jeff, Tara, even Jesse, had tried to talk her away from Roger at one time or another. 

Jenny's eyes narrowed. "When I called you this afternoon, your dad answered. He told me you were out with Jeff."

Dawn took a deep breath to preempt a nervous hiccup. She sucked in her bottom lip and shook her head yes. "We went to our diner, downtown. He bought lunch."

"Were you like this at lunch?" Dawn pretended like she didn't know what Jenny meant. "I have eyes, you know. I could see you laughing at all his dumb jokes, hanging on his every word. When he got up to find the bathroom, you stared at his butt the entire time."

Dawn looked at her pumps. She was standing in the middle of a filmy grease stain. "Damn it!" She tried to clean her shoe by scraping it against the blacktop. Her small foot slipped out of the shoe; she snagged the toe of her pantyhose trying to catch her balance.

"He always could fluster you." Jenny crouched down to help Dawn back into the pump. "He flusters a lot of people." Dawn had confessed the true nature of her relationship with Jeff to Jenny long ago. Of course, Jenny had figured it out beforehand. "You know you can't, right? You're engaged to Roger."

"I would never hurt Roger." At least, she wouldn't hurt him intentionally.

"Yes you would. For Jeff, you would. You ripped that asshole Jase Riley's face open with your bare hands. Sweet, gentle, little Dawn shredded him to pieces to stop him from hurting Jeff."

Dawn didn't want to think about Jase Riley. He was where he belonged, rotting in jail on federal drug charges thanks to the statements of Dawn and countless other young women.

"If it's any consolation, I understand what you're feeling. When I saw Jeff for the first time tonight, I couldn't even remember what Mark looked like." She giggled like a little girl; it sounded odd because of her deep, smoky voice. "He certainly has changed."

Dawn's skinny big brother had finally grown up. He was still a charmer, and flirtier than anyone she had ever known, but there was something else there now. Beyond the handsome face and the boyish charm was something new, substance and character, both hard earned.

"I know what I have to do," Dawn said. 

They found Jenny's van tucked between Roger's Hummer and an enormous pickup.

"We both know what you have to do," Jenny said. She hugged Dawn tight, squishing her large breasts against Dawn. "The question is: Will you do it?"

***

Jenny bowed out early, and Dawn had too much on her mind; Roger remained, as did Dad and any number of guests, yet Jeff was the one who volunteered to see Tara home. The poor kid could hardly sit upright in the cab on the way.

Old springs moaned a protest as Jeff flopped on the motel bed. His stupidity, it seemed, had no limits. Water from the hotel's low-flow showerhead trickled in the bathroom, as did the tiny voice struggling to recite the lyrics of the pop hit du jour.

Had Jesse not left the rehearsal dinner so early and Jenny not been so happily married, he probably wouldn't have ended up inviting Tara up to his motel room. Not that Tara was so bad. The college soccer standout had a pretty-enough face, framed by short, natural blond hair. Though puny in stature, she had an athlete's powerful thighs and a nicely rounded butt.

She came out of the bathroom dressed in a worn, white motel towel. Smiling seductively, she climbed on the bed beside him. "You don't know how long I've wanted this."

He had some idea. Tiny Tara had been an unashamed flirt since she was ten years old.

Opening the towel, her extremely fit little body went on full display. Underdeveloped breasts were capped by nipples that stood out from her chest proudly erect, looking for all the world like fleshy pencil erasers surrounded by puffy, somewhat-asymmetrical areoles.

She sat on the bed between his out-stretched legs. "Touch me," she begged. Her own legs spread, lasciviously displaying her pussy. Tara's pubic hairs were blonde and wispy, longer than he would have imagined. She spread the lips apart, revealing the luxurious pink inside. He smelled her arousal; it was pungent and powerful, a decade's worth of stewing lust. "Please, touch me."

Jeff struggled to his knees and inched toward her. Her body jackknifed at the first tentative probe of his erect penis. She was extremely hot, as if her insides were melting. Plump, glossy lips kissed his mouth when he probed deeper, harder. As Jeff's eyes closed tight, he pictured Dawn engaging in the very same type of sexual experimentation with ugly, old Roger. Jeff's penis, which was very hard up to that point, wilted.

Tara reached for his penis; finding it soft, she whined. "What's the matter, Jeff? Can't get it up for me?" She stroked the slack shaft to no avail. "Just close your eyes and pretend I'm someone else." The strong, athletic legs that made her a soccer star at Iowa State wrapped Jeff's waist like twin boa constrictors. She kissed his mouth, then his cheek, then sucked his right earlobe between her plump lips. He grew just a bit firmer, nothing significant.

"Come on, Jeff; you got it up for Jenny's fat ass. She told me all about it." She whispered the next part: "If you call me Dawn, I won't get upset."

Jeff's eyes sprung open. He pitched her tiny body aside. The mattress springs made almost no sound as her naked body bounced. Had Dawn betrayed his trust? Had she told her tiny blond friend about their affair? Jeff glared at Tara, studying her baby-blue eyes.

Tara fiddled with the cluster of silver rings dangling from her ear. "Jenny told me...Jenny told me that the two of you had sex. She said you called Dawn's name when you came."

Lies with which to deny the accusations bobbed up and down in Jeff's head. The ill-fated date with Jenny seemed destined to haunt him forever. Jeff had blocked Jenny's image in favor of his sister's the night they had made love in the backseat of the Thunderbird. In the final moment of passion, while his semen filled the latex condom buried deep within Jenny's tunnel, he lapsed and cried out Dawn's name.

"I never told anyone." The words 'Tara' and 'discretion' were not synonymous. If she truly had kept the secret so long, it was no minor miracle. "Please..." She grabbed his shoulder as he rolled on his side; her fingernails sank into the flesh. "Please, Jeff, don't make me stop. I'm so wet for you." She put her fingers to his nose. Her arousal was pungent but not unappealing.

In a fit of desperation, she raked at his back, leaving long pink streaks with her fingernails. "I can be Dawn. I can be anyone you want me to be." As she leaned over his body, her wet tears dribbled against his shoulder. She mounted his pelvis, grinding herself against his hip. Copious amounts of her moisture pooled on his skin. "I want you, Big Brother." Jeff turned his head, watching curiously, as she took pleasure from his body the only way she could.

The nub of her erect clit rubbed his hipbone. She climaxed, making a sound that was somewhere between an M and a baby bird's peep. Her upper body leaned forward, until her mouth rested against his long neck.

"Have fun?" he asked. A bit of a smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. She responded with a cute, yet dimpleless, smile. After Jeff rolled on his back, she adjusted her position, maneuvering her crotch over his lazy penis.

Tara coyly glanced from side to side, offering a wicked smirk of her own. "Daddy is asleep." He started to respond, but she touched his lips to shush him. "Maybe he won't wake up if we're extra quiet." 

"Tara, stop---"

"I said be quiet. Do you want to get your baby sis in trouble?"

His penis stirred a bit. 

"I love you; you know?" She tried to lower her voice a touch to sound more like Dawn. Tara's eyebrows arched as she touched his face. "Tara always teased me about it, but she was right. Only an idiot couldn't see that she was right."

"Stop it right Goddamned now!" Jeff took Tara by the hips and rolled them both over until he was on top, in control. Tara smirked as his steel hard penis sawed the lips of her wispy, wet slit. Her hips lurched, forcing their crotches to grind against one another.

Stroking his chest and his back, she explored the body she'd coveted for so long. The head of his penis kissed the opening to her vagina. 

"I just want to fuck you. No strings, no anything," she said. 

He was almost ready to surrender, to give Tara exactly what she wanted. His cell phone lit up and vibrated on the pressboard dresser. "Ignore it," Tara said. She grabbed his chin and forced their lips together. Jeff broke the kiss long enough to grab the phone. The caller ID flashed his old home phone number. "Ignore it!" She finagled the phone from his grip and tossed it against the wall. The battery separated from the rest of the phone, forcing it into silence.

"What if it was Dawn?" he asked.

Tara squeezed his midsection between her thighs. She dug her fingernails into his cheeks and forced him to look her in the eyes. "Dawn is right here!"

Jeff escaped Tara's strong thighs and rolled her tiny body off the bed. She squeaked as she smacked against the floor. He suspected that her pride was the only thing injured, yet she opened up a torrent of tears.

"Jesus! Tara, I'm sorry." He was on the floor crouching beside her naked body. She accepted his offered hug and cried against his bare chest for a moment. She reached for his penis, but he reprimanded her one final time.

"You love her, don't you?" Tara must not have expected an answer as she immediately smacked his chest with the back of her tiny hand. "Are you some kind of wimp or something? What the hell are you doing sitting here with me?" Again, she expected no answer. "The way I see it, you have two days, Kramer. You have two days to keep the girl you love from marrying Uncle Fester."

Had she forgotten the fact that the girl he loved was his kid sister? "How drunk are you?" he asked.

She tried to sit up but fell into his lap. "Really, really drunk," she confessed. "But coherent enough to remember that my best friend in the whole world has been miserable for the past year, and that the only guy who has ever made her happy is sitting naked with me on a motel floor."

She made it all sound so simple. "You seem to have forgotten the fact that I'm her brother."

"And you seem to have forgotten the fact that you're Jeff Kramer. So get up, get dressed, and go get her, champ." She kissed Jeff's cheek and slumped back to the bed.

"Do you want to share a cab?" he asked, reassembling his cell phone.

"I'll find my way home, eventually. Right now I just want the room to quit spinning before I puke up a pound of ham."

Jeff slipped back into his banquet clothes, sans the jacket. He folded a twenty-dollar bill on the dresser for Tara's cab ride home.

"Where do you keep your underwear?" she asked. She quit rubbing her temples long enough to notice his reaction to her question. "Oh don't be gross! I just want to borrow an undershirt to take a nap in."

He reached in the dresser drawer and tossed her a v-neck undershirt. It was extra-tall. The undersized blond looked ridiculous in it.

"You're going to be alright?" He stood in the doorway, dodging as one of the bed pillows flew at his head.

"Just get out of here, you wimp."

***

After the rehearsal dinner, Dawn rode home with Daddy. Skipping the shower, she undressed for bed. Her dreams were not pleasant. She tossed and turned for hours, tormented by the same dreams that had haunted her the past year, dreams of the night Jeff left for Calgary:

The airport terminal was anything but busy that night. The boarding call for Northern Air flight 722 to Buffalo echoed from the speakers. Jeff couldn't hide his excitement as he waited for the boarding call of his own flight, the flight that would take him to Detroit Metro Airport. From there it was a short hop to Calgary and his new career as a professional football player.

Jenny's sobering words replayed in Dawn's head as she snuggled into his side. "You have to let him go, for your own good." No, that wasn't it. She would let Jeff wrap his arms around her and drag her into the darkest abyss as long as he never let go. 

"Do it for his own good." That rotten Jenny, she had convinced Dawn of what was right, had convinced Dawn that a future with Jeff was impossible.

"He's going to be important and famous." The notion had swelled Dawn's freckled head. Her big brother, the star quarterback who had nearly tossed his career away, deserved a second chance. 

After vanquishing Jase Riley, he had been expelled from Choteau University. A punishment that had come about because Jase Riley was heir to the Riley Pharmaceuticals fortune, and Riley money had transformed Choteau University from a second-rate junior college to a well-regarded, well-equipped University. 

Jase Riley had gone down, the police had seen to that, but the University had appeased their sole benefactors by expelling Jeff.

Going from promising athlete to part-time auto mechanic, his future appeared bleak. Then the call from Calgary came. Jeff had been drafted into the Canadian Football League, earning a chance to play quarterback for the Calgary Stampeders.




Light of Dusk Ch. 03



The plans had changed, but his talent remained the same. The team worked him out at Curtis High Stadium. The Stamps offensive coordinator was stunned by what he saw. Skinny Jeff Kramer could throw the football farther and harder than anyone the coach had ever seen.

"I'm going to be rich," Jeff vowed, as soon as the coach had left. He stripped off his jersey and shoulder pads and opened his arms for Dawn. They had never hugged in public before, at least not anywhere so near their home. His skin was hot and slicked with sweat. The musk of his sweat was so familiar that she had almost come to enjoy it.

"Rich," As he whispered, his lips lingered near her ear, "Rich and famous." He kissed the lobe of her ear, flicking the dainty gold hoop earring with his tongue.

"I always knew," she said. Jeff explored the tense muscles of her back as he pulled her closer. They had never before been so bold in public. "I think we should wait until we're home," she whispered.

"I can't wait." He reached beneath her ivory hoodie and touched her belly through the lime-green t-shirt. 

The sneakers of the Curtis High cross-country track team sounded in the distance. They were approaching the field, readying for the afternoon's practice.

Jeff crushed her petite body to his sweaty torso. He kissed the tip of her freckled nose and smirked. "You owe me when we get home, little girl."

She blushed and nodded as the first runner sprawled out on the track, stretching his sinewy body.

No one knew about her relationship with Jeff, save for Jenny. And technically, she never told Jenny. She didn't have to. Her best friend seemed all-knowing when it came to Dawn. 

When Dawn made the first casual hint about pulling up roots and moving to Calgary with Jeff, Jenny removed all ambiguity about where she stood regarding the siblings' relationship. Despite her most compelling arguments on the depravity of it all, Jenny could never quite talk Dawn away from Jeff.

"Do what's best for him." An approach of slowly chipping away with logic seemed to work the best for Jenny. "There will be teammates, reporters. What is Jeff supposed to tell them? Will you be his girlfriend, his wife?"

His wife, the thought made Dawn's heart beat faster than she ever thought possible.  

"What if just one person finds out? Just one." To emphasize her point, Jenny held up her index finger. "It would be over, Dawn, his career, his life. No one would trust him to ever do anything again."

No one would ever find out. Dawn was sure of it. They were careful, for the most part. She could play the part of the adoring little sister in public; she had been doing it for so long. In private, they could be lovers. Whose business is it what happens in the privacy of their home? Who would they be hurting?

"What if your Dad found out?"

Dawn considered the question a moment. "Daddy would never do anything to hurt me."

"Not you," Jenny said. "What would he do to Jeff? What would he do if the son made more money and won more acclaim in one little season than the father had in his entire life."

No, Dawn reassured herself. Daddy is a good man. He would never do anything to hurt his family. Of course, deep down she knew that wasn't true. Daddy had cheated on Mom. Daddy had left Mom. The family would have disintegrated had Mom not suddenly become ill.

"Jeff humiliated him once," Jenny pointed out. "Maybe your Dad's been waiting for the perfect chance to repay the favor." Jenny wasn't trying to exploit the Kramer family's all-too obvious flaws for some unscrupulous agenda. She was simply trying to protect her best friend in the entire world.

The call came at last: "Flight 113." Jeff cradled a messenger bag under his arms. He kissed Dawn's freckled cheeks and beamed. "God, I'm going to miss you." He had talked nonstop about how the next four days would be hell while they were apart. She could tell that he wanted to kiss her good and proper, the way any departing lover would want.

The call for his flight repeated. Dawn smiled for him, in spite of the fact that she was dying inside. She had to do it quick, like ripping a band-aid. "I think we have to stop."

His smirk drooped for a second then his green eyes narrowed. "Stop what?"

"You're moving on and I'm moving on, and I think we should stop."

"Stop what?" He would repeat his question forever unless she answered it directly.

"Stop being together."

His chin drooped a bit; his eyes opened wide. "You're kidding me, right?"

Her tears were no jest. "We should--we need to stop before things go too far." She had no idea what she was saying. She would babble and babble until he decided to leave her.

"Please don't kid about something like this." He took her hand, but she ripped it away. "Dawn, what--what are you doing?"

She knew what she had to say. They were the only words that would ever convince him. "I never loved you. It's just that you were so brave with Jase Riley and you sacrificed so much. I couldn't just reject you."

"Jesus Christ, Dawn, please say you're joking me. Smile, giggle, do anything to show you're joking."

The scenario was like a nightmare for her. She could only imagine the effects her words had on Jeff. "I'm sorry." She hid behind her palms, crying freely.

"You're sorry? You're fucking sorry?" He slung his messenger bag as far as he could, which was extremely far. It skidded down the walkway.

A final boarding call echoed.

"You're sorry." He muttered the words before storming away, seemingly forever.

Dawn awoke; sweat soaked her body. She had meant to lie down for a moment, after returning home from the rehearsal dinner, but had fallen asleep for more than two hours. The halls rang again with the chimes that had stirred her, the doorbell.

Covered by only a black bra and matching panties, her wet skin glistened with sweat as she hunted for her silk robe. She found it and tied it around her waist as fast as she could. Stumbling down the stairs, Dawn moved past the sofa, where her father had fallen asleep in front of the television. The doorbell rang again, just as she reached the door. A hearty knock sounded through the wood of the door.

After disengaging the deadbolt, Dawn turned the knob. The door unlocked with a click as it opened. 

It was Jeff, still dressed in his banquet attire. He asked if he'd awakened her. She lied and said he hadn't.

"We need to talk," he said. 

Dawn took a moment to assess him. His shirt was half-buttoned and completely un-tucked, and his pants were in desperate need of pressing. His hair was mussed and his jaw dusted by the faintest trace of stubble. He almost looked disheveled, if it were even possible for someone so handsome to look disheveled. Clearly, his decision to come had been a hasty one.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked at last.

He didn't immediately respond; he just stared, his dark eyes hinting downward. Apparently, she hadn't tied the robe's sash securely enough. The black of her lingerie and white of her skin were on display for him. When she made no move to correct the situation, he reached to touch the warm skin of her belly. Her muscles clenched, and goosebumps rose on her pale skin.

"We need to talk," he repeated. His hand rested on her naked belly. He must have felt her breath quicken.

Dawn glanced over her shoulder. Daddy was asleep in front of the television. There was little chance of him waking, yet Dawn wanted to be sure.

"Upstairs," she said. When she offered her hand, he took it in his own enormous hand. She led him up the stairs, her bare feet padding quietly on the soft cream carpet.

When they reached the sanctity of her bedroom, Dawn closed the door and turned the lock. Jeff had already seated himself at the foot of her bed. She sat close beside him, so close that their hips almost touched.

"What a long day," Jeff said. He stared forward, eyeing the closed door. "Kind of crazy, too."

"Totally." She snickered nervously. "I didn't realize Roger knew so many people."

"There were a lot of people, too many. The food was good, though."

Dawn couldn't comment; jittery nerves had ruined her appetite.

"Dawn?" She turned to find his handsome face gazing down at her. "When I kissed you this afternoon, what did you feel?"

She considered the question for a moment, formulating the words in her head: happy and sad, brave and afraid, safe and imperiled. Nearly every emotion known to woman, she had felt. Withholding this information she answered, "Nothing."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. "I know better than that, Sunshine. You felt something because you kissed me back." Climbing off the bed, he fell to his knees in front of her. He pushed the silky fabric of the robe aside, uncovering her knees. His hands settled on her bare legs. "Tell me what you felt."

"I..." Her mouth remained open, even though she couldn't coax the words from her lips. She needed him to stop, needed him to leave. Every moment she spent staring into Jeff's warm green eyes, her resistance faded. "I..." This was it, the edge of oblivion. Would she turn away, or leap with open arms?

"We can't." She freed her knees from his gentle grasp and scooted backwards towards the head of the bed. 

Jeff sat at the foot of the mattress once more, draping his long legs over the side. "Does Roger ever make you feel the way you do right now?"

Roger was great, but he had never given her a dry mouth, a racing pulse, or a feeling that something so wrong can feel so right.

Jeff flopped backwards. "I can't do anything about my last name." Neither could she; fate was so cruel that way. "But I can promise you that no one will ever love you the way I do."

She understood what he meant. Roger could be a friend and a lover, but he would never be a brother. Only Jeff could ever be all three.

"I don't get paid very much, and the taxes are ridiculous, but I can be a good husband." Jeff as her husband, thinking about it made her heart flutter again. "I'm an asshole; God, I'm such a huge asshole, but I would never hurt you, never cheat on you."

He was not an asshole. Whatever his imperfections might have been, Jeff Kramer was unyieldingly loyal. Loyalty to his mother had prevented him from making peace with his father, even after so many years.

"Is it kids then?" he asked. Lying on his back, Jeff arched his eyebrows and waited for her answer.

When Roger had first proposed, Dawn became excited about the prospects of starting a family. Her own blood, her own genes, what could be more exciting than creating a little life? Over time, it became clear that Roger wasn't very interested in children. She found herself adopting his opinion that children and careers were incompatible. A family didn't seem to be in the cards.

"I could give you kids." He sounded so sincere.

"Stop being ridiculous." She knew he wasn't ignorant to the risks. Other than a few fumbles, safe sex had been a part of the routine when they were together.

"Could you imagine a kid with my looks and your brains?" He must have seen the look she tossed him, "Or your looks and your brains. Face it; as long as they didn't end up with my brains, our kids would be perfect."

She felt her insides warm as she inched towards him on her knees. Jeff turned his head just as she settled near him. He touched his lips to her bare knee.

"You know I'm getting married, and you know there is nothing you can do to stop it, so why did you come here?" She asked the question despite already knowing the answer.

"I'm a quarterback, Sunshine. When quarterbacks are behind with seconds to go they stop thinking about the little dink and dunk passes; they stop thinking about everything except throwing the ball as hard and as far as they can." 

He was throwing a Hail Mary in a desperate attempt to win her back. If only he realized how hopeless the situation was. He had never lost her love. She desired him more that moment, with his cheek settling against her lap, than she ever had. 

She stroked the side of his face, his ear. She touched the bridge of his nose and felt the knot where he'd sacrificed himself to protect her. If only she could be so brave. She kissed his cheek and bade him to sit up. They kissed, innocently at first with a passion that built momentum like a freight train. 

All thoughts of Roger washed away. Jeff was right: No man would ever love her the way he did, and she would love no other man the way she loved Jeff.

His tongue entered her mouth, returning to seek a familiar partner. Time seemed to be on hold, yet the minutes ticked away as they lost themselves in the kiss. He slipped the robe from her shoulders, following the action by kissing the exposed skin.

No longer idle, her fingers unfastened the few buttons that held Jeff's shirt together. He hadn't worn an undershirt beneath the button-up shirt, giving her the opportunity to touch his newly developed abdominal muscles. Nothing bulged or flexed; there was no six-pack or washboard, yet he felt perfect. The skinny little boy had become the definition of health by exercising and curbing the junk from his diet. He was a man now; she couldn't deny it.

Jeff worked the hooks of her bra loose. The black cups drifted to her lap, baring her milk-white breasts. Dawn's heart thumped audibly in her chest. She felt much the same as she had the very first time they made proper love, when he had come to her room to return the towel from her bath. She had been naked then, too. The lust in his eyes hadn't dulled since that time. In fact, it seemed to have grown more intense.

He touched her breast, applying just enough pressure to turn the white skin even whiter. Roger often hinted about her taking up tanning. He disliked her pale skin; it reminded him of the light-depraved patients wandering the bleak, bleached halls of County General Hospital. Once, she tried to explain that the more she tanned the more her freckles seemed to multiply. She didn't want more freckles; she already had plenty.

Jeff placed his hand beneath a breast. Pretending to weigh and measure the milky orb, he contorted his face into a fascinated expression. "I think they're bigger," he said. He brushed the underside of both breasts, causing Dawn to shudder. "You are so soft." He skillfully manipulated the tender flesh. 

Sometimes Roger would squeeze her breasts when they kissed. Roger was never so gentle.

"How did you get to be so soft?" He smirked and caressed her breast.

"Maybe I'm overripe," she said.

He considered her hypothesis, tapping his forehead with the tip of his finger. "No, you look fresh to me." Wanting a second opinion, he bent forward to take her left nipple into his mouth. He suckled for several moments, hungrily moaning as he did. He released the nipple with a moist pop. "Definitely fresh," he said. "Though, you're not quite as soft as before." He flicked her stiff nipple, splattering a bead of his saliva across her chest.

"Oh, Jeff." She wished she could be more articulate, but when she was with Jeff, wit and charm were a luxury. 

Speaking may have been a problem for Dawn, but actions were definitely not. She unbuttoned the cuffs of his dress shirt and removed the shirt from his body. With his torso fully revealed, she could see just how much her brother had grown up. It was impressive. 

When she separated him from the khaki slacks, she could see that the lower floors had seen their share of renovations as well. The muscles that had defined his calves so well in the shorts that morning continued upward to his thighs. She remembered the spindly-legged albatross that had slung passes across the practice field at Choteau. Had it not been for the same handsome face, she would have had trouble reconciling this masculine being with her gangly big brother.

As she drank in his body, the lump in his black boxer briefs grew into a respectable tent. 

Jeff's lips quivered. The quarterback's smirk transformed into the shy schoolboy's smile she had longed to see. Jeff was outgoing by nature, confident and self-assured. However, when he smiled like that, when the confident veneer dissolved, revealing the sensitive, insecure little boy he pretended not to be, her heart never failed to melt.

He worked her panties down, sliding them away inch by excruciating inch. Balanced on her knees, she spread her legs, inviting him to have his way. He treated her delicately, like a tropical blossom that might drop its petals if he applied anything more than a feather's touch. He sniffed her sex, kissed it. Extending his tongue, Jeff tasted her sexual essence. 

When he finally decided to probe with his finger, it felt lighter than a tickle. Dawn bit her bottom lip and exhaled through her nostrils. Of course, he had no idea, but his delicate touch was far more teasing than pleasing. She seized his wrist. Taking command of his motions, she ground his wriggling fingers against her slit.

After she released his wrist, Jeff took over. No longer the delicate explorer, he ventured into the sweltering jungle. Her moisture collected on his fingers. From there it transferred to her thighs, the bed, anything he touched.

"Jeff!" She meant to tell him something, but as soon as the thought entered her head, it dissolved into nothingness.

"I want---" He tried to speak but her lips silenced him. She released the kiss and asked him what he wanted. "I want you, Sunshine." He kissed her tiny, tender earlobe and whispered, "I want you now and forever." 

She shuddered as his finger entered her to the first knuckle. She wanted him inside of her so badly. He was the only man who had ever made love to her. She never wanted there to be anyone else.

Poor old Roger, he would be so disappointed when she talked to him tomorrow.

He probed the tender pink flesh of her insides, collecting moisture on his long finger, extracting it, and tasting it. She smelled her own arousal, a powerful musk that seemed to fuel both their lusts. Jeff angled himself between her legs, resting his head against the mattress and drawing her crotch towards his mouth. 

She lowered herself, until she was almost sitting on his handsome face. His tongue felt heavenly, as it lapped the moisture from her labia. Rough yet soft, the tongue reaped a familiar pleasure. Jeff had brought her pleasure orally on many, many occasions; guided by her tiny moans of encouragement, he had perfected the technique, mastering the art of cunnilingus.

His tongue burrowed deeply into her body, tasting, teasing. She leaned forward, almost collapsing against his lean body. Beneath the black boxer briefs, his penis reached proudly toward the ceiling. Rolling the black fabric down his hips, she freed his penis. It felt alive in her small hands, pulsing with every beat of his heart.

She wanted to taste him again; it had been so long. Dawn took the head in her mouth, squeezing the spongy flesh between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. 

"Oh God, you have to take it out!" 

Upon his orders, she released his hard penis from her mouth. Had she done something wrong? Had she hurt him with her teeth? Dawn wondered as Jeff disengaged their sixty-nine position and sat up.

"I was ready to cum way too soon," Jeff explained. He playfully fanned his crotch, pretending to cool himself off. "You are way too good at that. Have you been practicing?"  

She settled in beside him and giggled. "No! You know you're the only guy I've been with."

"I wasn't implying that you'd been with another man. I was thinking more along the lines of carrots, bananas, and zucchini."

"A zucchini, are you serious, or have you been reading Tara's playbook?"

Jeff brushed a strand of red hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "You shouldn't make fun of your friends, especially not Tara." His breath exuded the hinted aroma of Dawn's sex.




Light of Dusk Ch. 03



Dawn nodded and extended her lips, inviting a kiss. She tasted herself in the form of a muted piquancy that lingered in his mouth.

The fact that she had had virtually no dinner caused Dawn's stomach to moan at an inopportune time.

Jeff clucked his tongue. "Sounds like somebody is hungry."

She kissed him and raked her fingernails across his back to show him how hungry she was. She spread her legs wide, allowing Jeff to find a comfortable position between them. As Jeff slowly inserted himself into her vagina, Dawn wrapped her pale legs around his thin body.

"Oh my God, I've missed you!" Dawn covered her mouth; she hadn't meant to be so loud. Jeff wasn't concerned about Daddy waking. When Daddy fell asleep in front of the television, he was impossible to wake; a fact the Kramer siblings had used to their romantic advantage on countless occasions.

Dawn's moisture increased with Jeff's thrusts. Her vaginal walls squeezed his throbbing shaft, desperate to milk Jeff of every ounce of his own juices. Would he pull out? Dawn wondered. She wasn't protected. In the past, he almost always wore a condom or pulled out. Her legs unwrapped his waist, and her feet found the bed. He could pull out if he wanted to; she wouldn't insist.

Jeff's jaw slacked, and his eyes drooped shut. He pulled out, letting the first jet of cum find the skin of her belly. The second and third jet sprayed the red curls of her pubic hair.

She was so close. If he would just put it back inside of her, just for a moment, she would find relief. Dawn opened her labia, inviting him to touch her. A string of Jeff's warm cum dribbled from the eye of his penis; the gooey fluid drizzled her exposed clitoris, setting off a powerful orgasm. Dawn's vagina contracted. She spurted a single stream of moisture, her own lubricating fluid, into Jeff's dark pubic hair.

Jeff slumped against her, his spent penis wetted by a sticky combination of masculine and feminine moisture. She bore his weight with little effort. Beneath him, she could feel the beat of his heart, hear the rasp of his lungs. He felt alive and so did she.

To be concluded...

Your opinions are my only reward. Please rate and/or comment on the story. I really appreciate it. 



Light of Dusk Ch. 04



"When did this nasty habit start?" Jeff asked.

Vince took the cigarette from his mouth and flipped it away. The half-gone cigarette smoldered amongst a patch of delicate baby's-breath. "Your mother made me quit when she was pregnant with you. Now, I only smoke when I'm really, really nervous." His hands trembled as he reached into his tuxedo pocket for the pack of Marlboro non-filters. He extracted a new cigarette and put it in his mouth without lighting it.

Jeff felt his father's eyes assessing his attire. "Didn't you get the memo, Son? Wedding starts in an hour." Jeff had dressed in khaki cargo shorts and a gray sweatshirt; a tan Old Navy ball cap and aviator sunglasses finished the outfit.

"Are you supposed to be in disguise or something?" Vince asked. "Because if you are, you're a bit too tall to be inconspicuous."

Jeff grabbed the bill of the cap and pulled it down snug over his head. "I didn't come here to chitchat." 

"Well, I hope you didn't come here to shove me around again. You nicked me up pretty good yesterday morning."

Jeff checked his father's right hand. It was still red from the coffee burn. 

Jeff made a move to back away. Reaching for the cell phone in his pocket, he prepared to call the taxi that waited for him.

"I tried to see you last night," Vince said. "I want to know what's going on with you. Why did you check out of the motel early?" When Jeff didn't answer, Vince asked another question. "Where did you stay the night?"

"Is it any of your goddamned business?" Jeff momentarily forgot the phone in his pocket. "I still have some friends around here, believe it or not."

"You're right. It's not my business, but still, I worry."

Old Vinnie Kramer, he's still pretending to be the concerned father.

"I tried to find you last night because I have something to give you." Vince dug in the hip pocket of his pleated black slacks. He extracted a gold ring, which he handed to Jeff.

Jeff pinched the ring between his thumb and forefinger. The gold glinted in the sunlight, as did the tiny diamond and flanking emeralds.

"Do you know what this is?" Vince asked.

Jeff took off his sunglasses and nodded. He never expected to see Mom's wedding ring again. He always assumed it had been buried with her.

"Why are you giving it to me?" he asked.

"I thought about giving the ring to Dawn, but it would have looked like something out of a gumball machine next to that giant rock Roger bought her. Besides, you were always so special to your mother. You were always her perfect little boy."

Perfect? No one is perfect, especially not me.

"You're going to find her someday, Jeff, the girl who makes you feel ten feet tall, the girl who holds your hand when you feel so utterly alone. When you do find her, I want to see your mom's ring on her finger."

Jeff pocketed the ring. The gesture, though noble enough, could not possibly make up for Vince Kramer's infidelity, nor the fifteen years of hell that followed.

"What time is your flight to Miami?"

Jeff squeezed the bridge of his nose. He felt the knot of damaged cartilage beneath his thumb. She told, of course she told. "Five, I have to be on the plane by five."

"You're going to do great. You're the best athlete I've ever seen." 

"Do you really think I need the pep talk?" Jeff asked. His hand went into the pocket of his shorts. He found the ring and turned it in a circle, feeling the smoothness of the gold, and the roughness of the gemstones. He took a clumsy step backward. The heel of his hiking boot slid off the cobblestone path and into a freshly watered flowerbed. Mud clung to the sole of his boot, and no amount of scraping would remove it all.

As Jeff turned to leave forever, Vince cleared his throat. "I'm sorry if you hate me so much you would miss your sister's wedding. I've done a lot of bad--terrible--things as a father, but Dawn has never done anything to hurt you."

Jeff bit his lip. Vince Kramer had never hurt Jeff the way Dawn had.

"I tried to be everything Dawn needed, a father, a friend, but it never seemed to be enough. She always loved you more and looked up to you more than she ever has me, and it used to drive me crazy. I think that's why, sometimes, I was a little too harsh with you."

"Sometimes you were too harsh?" Jeff shook his head. 

"Sometimes," Vince reiterated. "You can be kind of tough to live with, you know?"

Jeff smirked. "That's what I hear." He felt so uneasy inside. He could stand next to his father; they could kid and joke and trade stories about Mom and Dawn and family, but they would never make peace. 

Again, Jeff felt for the ring in his pocket.

"Talk to her, Junior. Say goodbye, and do it right this time."

It took twenty-five years, but Jeff had finally received some usable advice from his father.

Jeff weighed his options. He could call the cab and gracefully escape to Miami, or he could stay just a little while longer and endure the torture of seeing her once more. The solution seemed simple enough, yet Jeff rarely settled for the simplest solutions.

Vince lit the cigarette, while Jeff decided.

Swallowing for courage, Jeff headed for the chapel. Dawn was exiting the dressing room with her bridesmaids when he found her. Jesse, Tara, and Jenny looked exceedingly lovely in peach gowns, but Dawn trumped them all. Her little body managed the illusion of sleekness in an ankle-length ivory wedding gown. Not quite white, he noticed.

Jesse and Tara were visibly happy to see him, Jenny less so. Dawn was unreadable. However, it was clear she had to force herself to look at him.

"Can I talk to you, alone?" Jeff asked.

Dawn reflected for a moment, before nodding yes.

As he followed her inside the dressing room, Jeff noticed Jenny whisper something to Dawn. It sounded like, "Be strong," but he wasn't sure.

Tara squeezed Jeff's ice-cold hand for just a moment, offering support of her own.

"I thought you had gone," Dawn said, as soon as the door closed behind them.

He sat on the bench in front of the full-size mirror, contorting his legs to offer her the space beside him.

Dawn chose to remain standing. "I tried to call, but you didn't answer your cell, and the motel said you had gone."

"I stayed with a friend."

"A friend," Dawn scoffed. "What was her name?"

Jeff narrowed his eyes. "Tara." He could only guess that she was jealous; her face was unreadable. "Don't be mad at her, nothing happened." That was the truth. Jeff had slept on the couch, while Tara slept in her own bedroom. The fact that her parents and little sisters were in the house acted as a buffer.

"I know you didn't come here to talk, Jeff. We said everything that needed to be said yesterday."

She was right; she was always right. There was nothing left to say and no way to change her mind. Still, standing there basking in her radiance almost dulled the pain. No woman had ever looked more beautiful. 

Jeff shifted his position on the bench; as he moved something poked him in the hip. Reaching into his pocket, he found the ring.

Dawn regarded the ring curiously. Though the decision had been made the moment his father had handed it to him, Jeff pretended to mull over what to do with the ring. Mom's wedding ring, by all rights, belonged to her daughter.

"Here." He rose from the bench and took command of her left hand. Since Roger's obscene engagement ring had already taken up residence on her ring finger, Jeff slipped Mom's emerald and diamond wedding ring around Dawn's middle finger. The fit was perfect.

She looked at the ring, as if studying every cut in every gem. "It's beautiful." 

Roger's ring may have been stunning in its garishness, but Mom's ring and the harmonious marriage of its tiny diamond to the twin emeralds seemed better suited to Dawn's demure beauty.

"Thanks, I..." Her words faded as she sat beside him. She touched his cheek. He hadn't shaved, so his jaw was dusted with fine, reddish-black stubble. "You don't have to leave."

Cupping her hand in his, Jeff sighed sullenly. "I can't stay. You understand that I can't."

She nodded.

With that, he abandoned Dawn to her tears.

***

The organ played sadly. Vince didn't recognize the tune. Dawn explained that the tune was one of Roger's favorites and it usually sounded cheerier. Vince nodded. No matter how upbeat the melody, organ music always sounded depressing to him.

The guests were in place; the young bridesmaids and not-so-young groomsmen were in place; the groom had found his mark before the minister. The first chords of Mendelssohn's Wedding March moaned forth from the organ.

Dawn winced when he gently took her right arm. 

This was their moment, the moment when the father would walk his little girl down the aisle and give her away to the lucky Dr. Roger Walker. Every girl dreams of this moment, wants it to be just perfect, yet Dawn seemed to be miles away. 

As much as he tried to focus on his little girl, Vince's thoughts often drifted to his son. Any jealousy had faded long ago. More than just one athlete's respect for another, Vince was proud of the man his son had become. Jeff had sacrificed everything, worked so hard to regain it, and now through some karmic sense of justice, he was once more poised to be rich, famous, and successful.

Vince took a small step forward; Dawn failed to follow suit. The first step was always the hardest. The first step led to the last step and the last time she would be ever be called Dawn Kramer. Dawn Walker, it sounded wrong, somehow. 

He noticed a sheen of sweat forming on her brow. She looked weak and dizzy. 

"I need to sit down," she announced.

He helped her to sit on the bench in front of the giant mirror in the changing room. He tried to soothe her, assuming her nerves had gotten the better of her.

Jeff was always better suited for these type of moments; he exuded calm. "The kid pisses ice water," a coach had once told Vince. Maybe, that's why Dawn tended to lean on Jeff when she was upset.

"Don't worry, Sunshine, everyone gets cold feet before their wedding; it's a completely normal reaction." He took the handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at her sweaty brow.

"It's not normal!" Dawn hunched over as her body rocked with a dry heave. "Oh God, stop saying it's normal." She covered her mouth, as if holding back bile.

Vince's arms went around her. He could tell she found neither comfort nor safety in her father's arms. Once more, he wished for Jeff. She looked up to her older brother, almost worshipping him.

"Sweet thing," he began, taking her hand, "You wouldn't believe how nervous your mom was on our wedding day. She spent as much time hunched over the toilet as she did..." His words trailed as he stared at the freckled little hand covering her mouth. 

The ring, the tiny band of gold, ornamented with three tiny gemstones, rested around her middle finger, her mom's ring, the ring he had given Jeff. 

A veil suddenly lifted. The touches he had chosen not to notice, the hushed voices behind locked doors, the way Dawn looked at Jeff and the way Jeff looked at her, Vince finally understood the significance. 

While Jeff was away, she had hardly smiled once; when Jeff returned, she was a bubbly ray of sunshine. Now, that Jeff had gone again, Vince saw the effect it had on his little girl.

"Your mother," he muttered, "she made me promise one thing before she died: You had to be happy, both of you, no matter what. She made me promise...That's all she wanted. The two of you, her little boy, and her little ray of Sunshine, she wanted..." Vince swallowed hard. "Sunshine, are you happy?"

Dawn rose from the bench. She made a brave attempt at nodding. She was such a bad liar.

Vince took her arm, and they started down the aisle, again. 

Ahead, the minister waited, the bridesmaids waited, the groomsmen and Roger all waited. Every head in every pew turned to watch the pretty, young bride. Vince gazed down at his daughter's hand. He saw more than an old wedding ring on her little finger; he saw the way to forgiveness.

Vince halted in the middle of the aisle. Dawn went forward a step before she halted, too.

Dawn looked puzzled by her Daddy's actions.

The organ stopped. The groom nervously adjusted his tie, as whispers filled the chapel.

"Do you love him?" Vince asked.

"Daddy, what...?" Her nervous eyes darted from one side of the chapel to the other.

Vince took Dawn's left hand and removed Roger's gaudy diamond ring. There would be no question about whom he meant. He forced her to look at the diamond and emerald ring, the ring Jeff had given her. "Do you love him?"

Her eyes darted to Roger, then to Jenny. She closed her eyes and swallowed for courage. "Yes, I love him more than anything." Following the confession, tears flowed over her freckled cheeks. She must have thought her world was ending.

Vince fought stinging tears of his own as he prepared his next move. Walking her down the aisle would have been so much easier than this. "Then go. Be happy. Both of you be happy." He could hardly speak, could hardly stand, yet he maintained the illusion of strength and of support. He did it for her sake. Dawn took a step backwards, but he caught her arm. "It has to be forever, Sunshine. I won't let you go if it's not forever."

Dawn wiped tears with both hands and nodded. She wrapped her arms tight around her Daddy's neck, and whispered that she loved him and that she would miss him.

Vince Kramer let her go, doubting he would ever see her again.

***

In the backyard of his former home, Jeff sat on the glider beside Mom's rose garden. He and Dawn had spent many evenings on the glider, cuddling as the last light of dusk settled beyond the clouds.

Jeff had never felt more lost. A life alone, would it turn him into a bitter old man like his father, or something worse? Maybe he would find someone someday, someone he could delude himself into falling in love with. After all, Dawn had done it.

Lost in thought, Jeff never heard the swoosh of the sliding-glass patio door as it opened. He never heard the soft, approaching footsteps.

He flinched as a freckly little hand softly touched his shoulder.

"Dawn?" he asked. "How did you know I was here?" 

"I didn't. I just came home to pack." She had changed clothes, trading her wedding gown for denim capris pants and an olive-green tank top. She looked no less beautiful. 

Roger's ring had been removed. Mom's ring still ornamented her left hand. 

Why did he think of it as Mom's ring? It was Dawn's ring now, young, beautiful Dawn.

She made a move to sit beside him, but Jeff grabbed her waist and pulled her down to his lap. Her freckled arms hooked his neck, as she settled in to find a comfortable position atop his lanky legs.

He wanted to tease, to prove that he could still be the big brother. He even came up with the perfect line: What happened, Old Man Roger couldn't get it up for the honeymoon? He never got a chance to use it. Dawn pressed their lips together and twined her fingers through his hair. He could only return her kiss.

***

Between flannel-lined jeans, a fleece pullover, and a wool coat, Dawn managed to find some measure of warmth. When her brother had signed with the Miami Dolphins, six months ago, she hadn't considered the implications of traveling to Buffalo in December. Ice coated the handrail and piles of snow littered the sidelines of Ralph Wilson Stadium.

The scoreboard showed a thermometer reading of twenty degrees Fahrenheit. "Must be a warm front," the frost-bearded man next to her commented. She wasn't sure if he was half-serious, or half-kidding.

Dawn pulled a wool stocking cap from her coat pocket and rolled it over her red head. She shivered, and not just from the cold. 

The Dolphins were bundled in their winter whites. Jeff looked especially handsome, even if he did so while toting a clipboard and wearing a headset instead of his helmet. Poor Jeff, he was third string. The official term was emergency quarterback, but everyone knew better. He was the backup's backup.

Whereas the rest of his teammates wore long-sleeved thermal shirts beneath their uniforms, Jeff's arms were gloriously bare. He hadn't been in Florida long enough to de-acclimate to the cold winters where he grew up.

The crowd erupted as the Bills charged onto the field. Dawn checked the scoreboard, only minutes until kickoff.

As a chill wind moaned through the stadium, Dawn realized how much she missed the Florida sun, even if it had multiplied her already numerous freckles.

A snowball flew out of the stands and struck Jeff right across the number twelve. The Bills fans around her laughed as the video board replayed the direct hit over and over. Dawn felt anger build. She tried hard to control herself. The doctor said it was important that she limit stress. She had an appointment the following Wednesday, and Dr. Hightower vowed to get to the bottom of Dawn's recent bouts with nausea. Dawn had a pretty clear idea of what was wrong with her. She had already begun the informal process of picking out an obstetrician.

Distracted from her thoughts by the oohs and aahs of the crowd, Dawn noticed what had drawn half the stadium's attention. Jeff was standing in the end zone, heaving passes to the opposite twenty-yard line.

"Holy shit," the frosty-bearded man next to her said. "That kid can throw. Why the Hell don't we try to get him?" His question condensed into cold fog.

Ted Michaels, Jeff's agent, had been preparing the couple for the possibility of a trade. The Dolphins might be wary of playing a Canadian League castoff with small-time college experience, but plenty of other teams had been impressed by Jeff Kramer's impressive arm. Leaving Miami weather would be tragic, but she figured Jeff would look just as handsome playing in purple, blue, or maybe even red. 

Red would be nice. Daddy wouldn't have so far to travel when he came to see his grandchild.

The End

That's all folks. Thanks for choosing and taking the time to read my story. I'll be away from Literotica for a little while (as far as submissions go), but when I return, I'll have plenty of new stories to post. Until then, don't forget to vote and/or comment. I respond to any e-mails I can.