0 comments/ 61373 views/ 5 favorites Life in a Northern Town Ch. 01 By: velvetpie I took the exit and was surprised to find myself holding my breath. It had been twelve years since I'd been home and I was wrestling with my emotions. I had made a vow all those years ago that I would never return, that I absolutely hated the place. In all actuality, it wasn't the town that I hated, it was the memories it held. Peter Garland. His name was like saying Candyman. One mention and the box opened, a cyclone of images whirling out, attacking my heart and soul. My parents had moved here during my senior year of high school, thanks to a fiscal year change and a promotion for my father. I, of course, was pissed off, being forced to leave the people I had known most of my school life and I found myself acting out in school. The only class I didn't disrupt was Creating Writing class. Teacher? Peter Garland. Candyman, Candyman ... My cell phone rang, startling me out of my reverie and I fished it out of the holder, flipped it open and spoke, slowing down to take the snowy off-ramp curve. "Hello?" "Where are you?" I smiled at the sound of Jessie's voice. "Well, hello, Jessie. It's nice to hear your voice, too." "Where the fuck are you?" "Can't you even say hello first? You haven't seen me in two years and you can't say hello?" "Hello." She took a breath. "Where the fuck are you?" "At the Simon Street exit." "Good! Hurry the fuck up, will you? We're all waiting for you." That made me feel good. My old friends were all waiting for me to get there but something wasn't right. "Who all is there?" "Allison, Stephanie, Morris, Jeff ... geez, do I have to go through the whole list?" "No, Jess. Just answer the question I'm not asking." Silence pervaded the line and I heard the sounds of people partying in the background. "Jess ... " "It wasn't my fault, Taylor. I didn't tell him." If I was made of rubber, I would have melted in a heap onto the floor. "God, Jessie. Please don't tell me that you're telling me that he's there." "He's here, Tay. He found out that you were coming back and insisted on being here." "I don't want to see him, Jess." Peter Garland was the first person that ever got me. He understood who I was and what I was trying to accomplish. He read my writings with the eye of a Renaissance man and artfully critiqued it in a manner that I could understand. He never talked down to me and he never pretended that he was a god of the written word. He was just Peter, a 43-year old man who loved zinnias, thunderstorms and Chaucer. And within the short spanse of three weeks, he became the love of my life. "Well, he wants to see you. What are you going to do, avoid him?" "I had planned to do just that." "Yeah, I bet you did, silly girl." She giggled as a voice in the background ordered her to take a toke. "I have to go, Taylor. Hurry the fuck up!" The phone went dead in my hand and I closed it, my stomach twisting in knots that no amount of alcohol or pot would be able to undo. Somehow, I found myself floating back to the first time I'd gone to his apartment. He was the editor of the local university press book and he had several entries to read through, determine whether they were good enough to be included, then edit for publication. I'd volunteered since I was the fastest reader in the class and Peter had told me that my editing skills were top-notch. His apartment was vintage unmarried scholar. His living room was filled with dog-eared stacks of periodicals and leather-bound books and his kitchen was a disaster area. He ushered me in with a smile but glanced about the mess with an apologetic look. I'd seen this too many times to truly be worried about it. The only thing I was worried about was that either something would crawl on me while I was doing the work or something would crawl in my backpack. He weathered my disdain, offered me a beer and we set about working on the pieces. I wasn't much of a drinker so the alcohol went straight to my head and all the loneliness I felt came pouring out. And he was the perfect reservoir. He listened and wiped my tears away, replacing them with kisses. That was the beginning of the end. I turned onto Lacey Avenue and smiled at the Christmas lights that sparkled on the new-fallen snow. It was no surprise that the Barrios house was the most ornately lit of all the homes on the crescent. Jessie's father was crazy about Christmas and endeavored to make their home a Griswold house every year. I pulled into the driveway, turned the car off and sat there for a few minutes. Inside that house were people who knew me better than my own family. And inside was the man who had taken my virginity and left me like a used condom. I took a deep breath, grabbed my backpack and trudged up the path, heading for what could either be my sanctuary or my purgatory. Life in a Northern Town Ch. 02 "WOOOOOO!" I thought I was going to have to cover my ears when I entered Jessie's house but I broke into almost hysterical laughter as my friends from high school screamed welcome. Jessie nearly attacked me, flinging her still slender body at me and looping her legs around my body while I hugged her. It was a frantic ten minutes of people hugging and kissing me and I struggled to remember names and faces. So much past history came slamming back into my face that I was overwhelmed and very grateful when Jessie shoved the joint into my hand. "He's upstairs." I sucked in a huge lungful of smoke and closed my eyes, enjoying the inebriation that was settling into my body. I wasn't ready to see Peter Garland again but I had no choice. I could either run away or I could face him. And it was a mighty small town. "Okay." I took the joint with me, much to the amusement of Jessie and some of my other buds and headed up the stairs to Jessie's bedroom. Peter looked the same as he did when I left but his bright blue eyes were filled with a sadness I'd never seen before. All at once, I knew that he knew. And I was absolutely uncomfortable with that. He pushed dark brown waves out of his eyes and stood, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Hi." I stayed on my side of the room, sucking on the joint and staring at my former teacher. "Who told you?" "What?" "I know that you know. Who told you?" He looked away, sitting back on the bed. "Your mother." "What?" I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. My mother. Of all the people on earth who I would think would betray me, my mother would be the last. The whole ordeal had been hard enough without this compounding it. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Why should I? You took advantage of me." "I didn't take advantage of you! You were eighteen years old! You knew what the fuck you were doing!" "No, I didn't." "Then explain to me again why you aren't a virgin." Shit! That was one thing that I didn't expect him to bring up. I wasn't a virgin because I'd had sex before. Only two times, neither satisfying. That was why I hadn't had sex again. I had waited until I was with someone who I felt loved me. That person had been Peter Garland. Candyman, candyman, candyman … "What do you want, Pete? I've driven nearly four hundred miles and I'm tired. What do you want?" "You." I just stared at him, frozen to the spot as he came across the room to me. "I realize that I'm much older than you but we had something." His eyes searched mine. "I know you felt it." "You want to know what I felt, Peter? I felt pain. The pain of being pregnant in high school and the pain of having an abortion. That's what I felt. And ever since then, I've felt the pain of a murderer. You understand that?" The emotions I'd worked so hard to keep bottled up inside spilled out. "I killed my baby." "Our baby. You killed our baby, Taylor, and I feel it as strongly as you do." "No, you don't." I finished the joint, shoving the stub into an ash tray. "You don't have a clue!" "Yes, I do!" Peter was screaming in my face, angry tears streaking his cheeks. "I lost the opportunity to be a father and to be a husband! That was taken away from me so don't try to tell me that I don't have a clue!" I didn't know how to react to what he was saying but I was very adamant that he didn't know what he was talking about. He didn't have to listen to a doctor explain the abortion procedure. He didn't have to listen to his mother cry over the loss of a grandchild and he didn't have to sit on the toilet and wipe away the blood of afterbirth, thinking of what might have been. And the husband part? Who said that I wanted him as a husband? "Maybe I was wrong about you, Taylor." He tossed the flowers on the bed and headed toward the door. "Call me if you change your mind." I don't know what I expected but I certainly didn't expect that. I stood in Jessie's bedroom, enjoying my high and wondering what the rest of my visit would hold for me. Life in a Northern Town Ch. 03 I partied with abandon the rest of the night. I thought about fucking my old friend, Grant, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Peter's angry face kept popping into my mind and his words sliced through my inebriation with the surety of a surgeon. This was not something that I wanted to think about so I tried my best to erase it. It didn't work. I woke up the next morning with an upset stomach and a headache that felt like someone was ramming an ice pick into my forehead. Vomiting eased my gut but I couldn't keep the Advil down long enough to work on my head so I just lay silently, hoping that it would go away. Jessie made that impossible. Since I was sleeping with her, she threw her arm around me like a lover and breathed in my ear, making me laugh. She woke up and stared at me with bleary eyes. "What the hell are you laughing at?" "You're breathing in my ear." I eased myself from under her arm and sat up, wincing at the insistent pain in my head. "Sorry." She climbed out, hit the bathroom, then came back, sitting on the edge of the bed. "So what are you gonna do today?" "I don't know." I stretched and slowly stood up. "I guess I'll go to school and visit my old teachers." "One in particular?" When I didn't respond, she touched my knee. "What happened between you and Peter anyway? I know you were lovers ... " "I don't want to talk about it." "Well, that's a first. I thought I was your best friend." "You are, Jess. It's just ... " I had to swallow several times to keep from crying. "It hurts too much." "I heard a rumor ... " Our eyes met. "If what I say is true, don't say anything." I looked away, blinking furiously but unable to stop the sudden tears. "I heard that you got pregnant and wanted to keep the baby but your mother made you have an abortion and that that was the real reason you moved away, not because your dad got a promotion." Tears rolled down the spine of my nose and dripped onto my sweats. "Is that why Peter left so angrily last night?" Again, I was silent and she reached across and gave me a hug. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I couldn't." I whispered. "It hurt too much." "Sounds like it still hurts." I nodded, swallowing again. "It never goes away." "I'm sorry, Taylor. I wish you'd have let me be there for you. I would have helped you with the baby." Jessie's love for me had me bawling and I cried my eyes out for a little while. When I pulled myself together, Jess gave me a wad of toilet paper and I wiped my face and blew my nose, still despondent. "I'm not just here for a visit, Jess. I moved out of my parents' house. They don't know it." "It's about time you escaped Cruella's clutches." She hugged me again. "You can stay with me as long as you want, if you don't mind sleeping in the same bed with me." "As long as it's just the two of us." "Why, did you have something in mind?" She batted her eyes and I laughed. I knew I had made the right decision to leave. I'd call in a few days and let Daddy know what was going on but my mother ... I hoped that I never talked to her again. "Hey, why don't we go see my mom?" "Okay." I loved Jessie's mom, Aranca. She was a pure Puerto Rican super bitch and didn't mind letting everyone know it. She was the one who had told me, years ago, to get out of my mother's house. I wish I had listened back then. I felt better after taking a shower and the Advil stayed down so I gradually began to feel better. Jess and I got dressed and headed over to her mother's house. "¡Bambina!" Aranca hugged me as soon as I entered the door and I laughed, hugging her back. "Where have you been?" "Away." "Mama, she's moving in with me." Jessie said and Aranca's smile grew wider. "You're back to stay? Ah, my prayers have been answered!" Aranca warmed up some yellow rice and lamb chunks that she had left over from dinner the night before and Jessie and I ate while we talked. I told her about everything and she cried when I told her about the baby. I was glad that she didn't grill me about it because I'd already cried enough today. "You know, Peter's in love with you." "How do you know, Mama?" Jessie brought us another round of drinks. "I tried to ask him out and he told me." "Why would he tell you?" "Because he knew who I was. He knew that I was your mother and that you were Taylor's friend. I guess he was hoping that I'd call and let you know." Aranca put a motherly hand over mine. "His heart is broken, too, bambina. You should go see him, talk to him." "I don't know if that's such a good idea, Mama." I sighed, sucking the drink down. "We had a bad argument last night." Aranca squeezed my hand, bringing my eyes to hers. "Talk to him, bambina. Give him a chance to vent. Remember, he's been dealing with this all alone." I looked at Jessie who nodded in agreement with her mother and sighed again. I had really hoped that I could just forget about it but my heart knew the truth. Peter Garland was still deeply embedded in my soul and there was no way to get him out. Because I didn't want him to get out. I sat at the table with my best friend and her mother and finally admitted to myself that I was still in love with my former English teacher. Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Candyman ... Life in a Northern Town Ch. 04 We went to our old high school later on that day. It was a surreal feeling to see other kids walking the halls that we'd once owned. Our teachers were all very happy to see us, giving us hugs and introducing us to their students. Some of the kids asked how the teachers were when we attended and we told them stories that had everyone laughing. We left address information and told them that we would come back and visit again. As we approached Peter's room, I stood on tiptoe, bypassing the glazed panes on the bottom of the door and looked in on the class. I could only guess that the day's lesson had something to do with Shakespeare because Peter was dressed in Renaissance period garb, an accordion-pleated collar around his neck and a multi-colored Jacquard-patterned pantsuit on his lanky form. He was reading from a thick leather book, embellishing the words with his gestures and making the students laugh. The breath caught in my throat as I remembered the lessons he'd taught us and the ones I'd learned from him. I found myself drawn to his mouth, a body part that had always held my attention where he was concerned. Peter had the most feminine lips that she'd ever seen and they were absolutely perfect. The top lip had a perfect cupid's bow curve, nice and thick in the center, then thinning to meet the bottom lip. It, too, was soft and thick, perfect to suck on. His voice was deep and resonant, reminiscent of former president Ronald Reagan's, and made anyone who heard it think of Norman Rockwell's era. It calmed, it soothed. It found that place in your soul where peace lived and fed it. You wanted to go to sleep listening to it, breathing it as if it was your air. How many nights had I gone to sleep, snuggled against him, lulled by the sound of his heart beat and his mellifluous voice? Every night since I'd left, I thought of those times, of the peace that I'd felt in his arms. Seeing him now made me think about our baby. He would have been a fantastic father, warm and loving and above all, patient. Several of his students saw us at the window and his attention turned our way. He arose and came to the door, allowing us to enter. "Well, well! Students, I'd like you to meet a few of my favorite former students, Taylor Bridgeforth and Jessica Maran." The students reluctantly said hello and he turned to us, a sarcastic tone in his voice. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" Jessica nudged me and I stumbled forward, glancing at the kids before I turned to Peter, desperately trying to ignore his anger-filled eyes and racked my brain. Suddenly, my Shakespeare came back to me. "'Fie, fie, unknit that threat'ning unkind brow and dart not scornful glances from those eyes to wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.'" The rest of the soliloquy from 'The Taming of the Shrew' came spilling out with a reverent grace that I had never possessed. I didn't know where it came from but I saw the effect on Peter. "'Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee and for thy maintenance; commits his body to painful labor both sea and land, to watch the night in storms, the day in cold, whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe; And craves no other tribute at thy hands but love, fair looks and true obedience ... too little payment for so great a debt.'" I thought of him in his little bachelor apartment, crying and despondent over the loss of not only a child, but of a companion as well. At that moment, I hated myself for my selfishness. My life would have been so different if I had given him a chance but my mother's ugly words kept bleeding through. He's an older man. He won't want a child for a wife. And I believed her. I believed everything that evil woman had said. The movements that Elizabeth Taylor had done in the movie came back to me and I started doing them, my focus on Peter. "'I am ashamed that women are so simple to offer war when they should kneel for peace, or seek for rule, supremacy and sway, when they are bound to serve, love and obey.'" My words were reaching Peter. I saw his anger dissipate and his emotions returned, blazing in his silvery eyes and quivering lip. I slowly lowered myself to my knees, my eyes connected with his. "'And place your hands below your husband's foot, in token of which duty as he please,'" I bowed low, placing my hand beneath his slippered foot. "'My hand is ready, may it do him ease.'" Silence followed my words, then a smattering of applause that built into a roaring ovation rolled over us. I remained on my knees, my hand on the floor beneath his foot and my eyes angled downward. Peter grasped my shoulders, lifting me to my feet and smiled into my face. "Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you read Shakespeare." Life in a Northern Town Ch. 05 I was glad that Jessie dragged me out of there. No sooner than we'd left the classroom that I started sobbing and we held onto each other, crying for several minutes. It was a very emotional moment and I wiped my face, tugging on Jessie's arm. "Come on. Let's get out of here." We were halfway down the hallway when Peter's voice stopped us, calling my name. "Where are you going?" "To Jessie's house. Why?" "You didn't have anything to say to me after that?" His eyes held me captive. "That was the best reading I've ever heard." I didn't know what to say. "Thanks." "Thanks? You rocked my world and all you can say is 'thanks'?" Peter laughed, smiling at both of us. "That's humility!" The three of us couldn't help but laugh although Peter noticed that I had been crying. He touched my arm, his eyes burning deeply into mine. "Taylor, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have blindsided you like that." "It's all right, Pete. I just wasn't ready to deal with it. It's not your fault." "Would you have dinner with me tonight?" Part of me said NO! I knew what dinner would lead into and there was no way that I'd be able to resist him. But another part of me, a long dead part wanted to be revived, wanted to breathe in the sunshine of his love once again. I had already admitted that I was still in love with him; now I had another decision to make and I had the feeling that it had already been made for me. "Yes." His smile lit his eyes in a way that I hadn't seen in a long time, since we'd been together and the age seemed to melt away. "Thank you." We just stared at each other for a long moment, enjoying the renewed feelings that were flowing between us. Jessie grasped my arms and tugged me away, laughing the entire time. "She's staying with me, Mr. Garland." "I'll be by at seven-thirty, okay?" Still in dreamland, I whispered, "Okay." Jessie and I left, heading to the mall to do a little shopping for my date. I ended up choosing a pair of black slacks and a revealing blouse and we grabbed some Chinese take-out, heading back to the house. I half-remember what we did after that. A combination of fear and uncertainty overtook my senses. The food tasted bland and the beer was sour. I was having a full-on panic attack. "Hey, where are you?" "Sorry, Jess. Just thinking about tonight." "Well, what do you think?" When she handed me the mirror, I nearly fell out of the chair. Jessie had taken a sad tomboy and had transformed her into a confident young woman. My make-up was flawless and she'd piled my thick dark hair onto of my head, letting a few wavy tendrils frame my face. "Oh, my God. Who is it?" "It's you, silly." She laughed, putting her make-up back into the drawer. "I always told you that you'd get more guys if you used make-up. Now put your clothes on. It's quarter after seven." "Already? Jesus!" She helped me get the clothes on, snipping tags and tucking in material. A silver mesh belt, a pair of two-inch high heels and my silver necklace completed the outfit. I had no purse so Jessie lent me one of hers and I stuck my driver's license and credit cards into it. "You look fantastic." "I think I'm going to puke." "Don't you dare!" She laughed, tossing a beer back. "You act like this is your first date." "In some ways, it is." I nearly jumped out of my skin at the knock on the door. Jessie spewed beer, laughing and jumped up to answer it. Peter stood outside, handsomely dressed in a dark jacket and slacks. His glasses were gone and he'd gotten a haircut since this morning. We just stared at each other. "Come on in, Mr. Garland." "It's Pete, Jessie. You're not a student any more." He stepped in, swinging his eyes back to me. "Hi, Taylor. You look wonderful." "Uh, thank you." I stammered, accepting his bundle of wildflowers with a smile. "Shall we go?" "Yes." Peter took my arm and opened the car door for me like a gentleman, settling me in before pulling out. He had gotten rid of the Volkswagen Bug in favor of a Camry with all the bells and whistles I couldn't afford. I just sat in its elegance, silently appraising this man I used to know, wondering what had happened in the two years I'd been gone. "You still like Italian?" "Yeah." He nodded with a smile. "I remember the time you ordered two plates of manicotti and ate every bit of it." "You ate my lasagna." "So?" "Along with your chicken ziti." Suddenly, the ice was broken and we were laughing like we used to. "I miss that." He said softly. "What?" "Your laugh." He glanced over at me. "Your laugh puts the Brandenburg Concertos to shame." He pulled over to the side of the road and suddenly, we were desperately kissing, teeth bumping, lips clashing, tongues fighting, finally meshing it all together in a kiss that almost made me cum. I had been a child, learning at the hands of a master back then but now, I was a woman and I gave as good as I got. Peter's whimper told me so. He pulled back, gasping for breath, examining my face and eyes as I was doing to his. "I've missed you so badly, Taylor. I've never wanted anything so much in my life. When you left, I thought I was going to die and then when your mother called me, gloating over the loss of our child ... " The tears in his eyes reflected in the moonlight. "I thought I'd lose my mind." "Why didn't you call me? Or come to find me? Or even write me a letter?" "You mother threatened to ruin me if I ever contacted you again. Taylor, you can't even begin to imagine how excited I was when Jessie told me that you were coming to visit." "I'm not visiting, Peter." I searched his dark eyes. "I'm staying." I brought his hand to my face, gently kissing the palm. "How long depends on you." "Is forever long enough?" Life in a Northern Town Ch. 06 Is forever long enough? Those words stayed with me all through dinner and every time I looked into his eyes, I saw those beautiful lips forming the words that his deep, husky voice spoke to my heart. I was in trouble. The kiss in the car led to another and another and in a few minutes' time, we were in the sexual stratosphere, so ready to just rip off our clothes and fuck like rabbits. He was the one who pushed us apart, laughing and saying that we were going to get arrested if we didn't get going. Dinner was a dream. Through wine, antipasti, salad and entrees, we talked, tentatively at first, then more freely. I thought it was funny that we could kiss without a problem but when it came to talking, it was difficult. We both tiptoed around the baby issue but I think we'd already said all that we needed to say about it. I told him about living with my parents, of how my mother had enjoyed controlling every detail of life so much that I had to leave. He commended me for having the courage to leave and asked if I intended to stay with Jessie. I told him that I wanted to find my own place, not because I didn't love Jessie, but because I needed my own space. "What about sharing my place with me?" I thought about it but shook my head almost immediately. "I don't think that's a good idea." "Why? I've got a spare room." "Peter, both you and I know that I'd never see the inside of that bedroom." He turned those dark liquid eyes on me. "And that's a bad thing?" I couldn't help but laugh. "Peter ... " "What do you want, Taylor? What do you want out of us?" "For there to be an 'us'." "Are you sure?" He stared at me, really making contact with me. "I couldn't stand having my heart broken again." "Did I really break your heart?" "You didn't know?" He took my hands carefully, stroking them as if they were made of the finest china. "You didn't know how much you meant to me? How much you still mean to me?" For the first time that I could ever remember, Peter Garland opened his heart to me. He was always a man of great emotions but was never able to put them into words. In our short time apart, my old dog had learned a new trick. "No, Peter. If I'd have known, I never would have left." "What did you think we were doing all those times, just fucking?" When I nodded, he just stared at me, dumbfounded. "How could you think that? Didn't you love me?" "I've always loved you, Peter. I just thought that I was a notch on your bedpost." "Oh, my God, no! No, no, no, no, no! Nothing could be farther from the truth!" I felt my heart skip a thousand beats. Jesus, I didn't do anything right! All this time I could have been here with this man I loved and our child. I wanted to cry but I told myself that there was no more time for that. No more mentioning the baby. No more lamenting a past lost life. A future, a real future was looking me in the face. "When you left, I thought you didn't want me because I was so much older than you." "I never thought that! I would never have gotten involved with you if I thought that." Our eyes looked down at where our hands were connected. I didn't trust my voice but I wanted to be the first to speak. "Let's not waste any more time, Peter." "But you're so young, Taylor. How can you be sure that you know what you want?" "Because my heart is telling me so." I touched his cheek, loving the tiny bit of grey stubble there. "And when I listen, my heart never lies to me." I leaned forward and our lips touched. But it was different that the fumbling desperation of two horny adults as it had been in the car. We were suddenly on a different level, old friends that had reconnected and a love that had been rediscovered and had deepened. I didn't want to be in this restaurant. I wanted to be in bed with him, to feel him inside me, to see the love in his eyes when he made me cum. "Mr. Garland? Mr. Peter Garland?" We broke our kiss to look up into the faces of two uniformed police officers. Peter glanced at me, then looked back up at the men. "Yes?" "You are under arrest." It happened so fast that I didn't know what happened. One minute, we were enjoying a beautiful kiss and the next moment, Peter was face down on the table and handcuffs were being clicked on his wrists, while a uniformed female officer whisked me away. I screamed but they weren't listening. I cried but they didn't care. All I could do was sob and watch as they escorted the love of my life away and hope that my chance for happiness hadn't been taken away. Life in a Northern Town Ch. 07 "I want to speak to Mr. Garland!" I shouted in the tiny interview room, staring into the shiny two-way glass and daring those behind it to come and shut me up. At my estimation, since they'd taken my watch, it had been three hours since Peter had been arrested and we'd been unceremoniously hauled to the police station. The female officer that had accompanied me kept trying to convince me that Peter had kidnapped me and I kept telling her that she was full of shit. Obviously, she didn't believe me and I was put into this room, with the same officer performing mastiff duties while I screamed at the glass. Finally, the door opened and every bit of blood in my body sank to my toes. My mother, Esther strode into the room, her Jimmy Choo's clicking on the broken linoleum. She pulled her bifocals off, letting them hang on their golden chain between her huge breasts as I sat frozen like a child expecting a monumental chastisement. She glared at me, dropping her Prada purse onto the table. "I'm so glad you've been rescued." "I didn't need rescuing, Mother." I trembled at each word I delivered, knowing full well that I had never talked to my mother like this before. I turned to the officer. "I want to see a lawyer. This is a farce." "A farce?" Esther barked, pulling a chair out, eyeing it distastefully, then sitting down. "What are you talking about?" "Kidnapping is always a farce when it's the result of trumped-up charges. How could you do that?" "How could I do what? You left so suddenly and your father and I had no idea where you were. We were sure that you'd been kidnapped." She smiled like a triumphant swan. "That's why I'm so glad that you're safe." I glanced at the female officer who beamed back at my mother and immediately knew that Peter was in trouble. "I want to use my telephone call." I barked at her. "Now." The woman just grinned at me until I started kicking the door, screaming. "NOW!" My crazy behavior scared her and she dashed out of the room. When I turned back to my mother, she was just glaring at me like a boil about to burst. "He's no good for you." I shook my head, staring at her. "You told him about the baby." "I did not!" She huffed in a self-righteous fashion, drawing herself up. "I wouldn't bother calling that." "Yes, you would." I paused in thought. "And that makes me wonder ... " "About what?" "The letter that I got after we left." I watched my mother's face and knew that I'd stumbled onto something. "Peter got one from me and I got one from him, each making excuses as to why we were breaking up with each other. You wrote them, didn't you?" "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Yes, you do. You arranged that just like you arranged this. I can smell your shit a mile away." "Don't you dare talk to me like that!" "Don't worry, you won't ever hear me again." The female police officer came back in. "You can make your call now." "She doesn't need to use the phone." I glared at my mother, then turned my back on her, heading for the open door. "Who are you going to call?" I thought for a long moment, then looked at her with a smile. "Daddy." The blood drained from her face and she tried to jump out of the chair. "No!" The door closed behind me and I followed the officer to the phone. The call to my father was by turns emotional and stoic on my part but I was happy to hear that he was finally going to do something about her. Within an hour of my call to him, Peter and I were released, my mother was held on false report charges and Daddy reserved two rooms at the Hilton. "I'll be up there tomorrow, okay? You and Peter get a good night's sleep." "Thanks, Daddy. I really appreciate it." "I love you, Taylor. Don't worry about a thing. We'll talk when I get there, okay?" "Okay." I hung up the phone and Peter was coming out of the other interview room. I rushed over to him, sobbing with relief when his arms went around me. "Hey, why are you crying?" "I thought you'd be mad at me." "Not a chance." He whispered softly. "I knew your mother did this." I told him about my talk with my father and he was glad to hear that Esther would not be bothering us tonight. We left the station and once outside, he tilted my head up, catching my mouth and kissing me until I'd forgotten everything else. "Shall we take up where we left off?" "Yes." I murmured against his lips. "Yes." Life in a Northern Town Ch. 08 Jessie couldn't believe what my mother had done but she wasn't surprised. I'd called ahead so she had an overnight bag made up for me when we got to the house. "I hope your dad doesn't soften up when he gets here." "I don't think he will." I picked up the bag and smiled when Peter took it from me, slinging it over his shoulder. "He was pretty pissed off." "Maybe this will be his wake-up call." "I can only hope." I gave her a kiss and a hug. "I'll call you tomorrow." "You'd better." From her house, we went to Peter's apartment and I was very surprised to find that little had changed about it, except that it was clean. While he went in his bedroom to collect some things, I explore a little, touching the beat-up tea kettle that had served us a lot of tea in the past and the Russian nesting dolls in a neat row on the counter by the telephone. It was then I noticed the large frame of pictures and they were all of me. Memories bubbled anew as I remembered where each of them had been taken. "Remember that one?" He had snuck up behind me and pointed to one. The two of us were arm-in-arm, smiling at the camera with Styrofoam cheese wedges on our heads. He had a friend that was from Wisconsin and we'd worn them at a Packers party he'd thrown. The heat rose in my cheeks as I also remembered that we'd fucked in the bathroom during halftime. "Yes, I remember." His arms came around me, holding me close as we looked at the pictures together. "I look at this every day before I leave and I think about you. I'd wonder where you were. I'd wonder if you were thinking about me." "I always thought of you, Peter." I turned in his arms, searching his eyes. "No matter how hard I tried, I could never forget you." We kissed again and just held each other for a few minutes, savoring the closeness. "Taylor?" "Mmm-hmm?" "If we don't leave now, we'll never get out of here." I laughed and then kissed him. "You're right." We headed over to the hotel and Peter pushed the door open, grabbing me before we entered. "Let's pretend that it's our wedding night." "I won't have to pretend." Peter's smile warmed me from my head to toes and it was all I could do to keep from shaking apart as he kissed me, tilting his head and forcing my lips apart with his tongue. The feeling was so sensuous, so raw that I could barely breathe. I pressed my body against his, sighing at the feel of his hard cock through his clothes. His hands grasped my hips and ground himself into me, making me shiver again. "I want you so badly." I heard myself whisper. I couldn't seem to get enough of him. The tweedy, bookish smell of his jacket, the soft musk of his Old English after shave and the rising scent of his arousal all combined into the most potent aphrodisiac that I'd ever felt and my body responded to it. His hands seemed to leave electric trails wherever they touched my skin and I trembled, overcome by passion. Peter seemed to know exactly what to do. I had forgotten how skilled of a lover he'd been. His mouth burned me from earlobe to neck, working downward as he opened my blouse and let it slide to the floor. He went for my nipples, licking and sucking through the lace while his fingers pulled the straps off of my shoulders. When his lips connected with flesh, I moaned so loud that I was sure that everyone in the surrounding suites could hear me. I yanked his jacket off and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, aching, desperate for skin. Peter moved us into the bedroom, our mouths still connected as we traveled. Somewhere between the entrance and the bed, we lost our pants and I welcomed his weight on top of me, enjoying the feel of his tongue in my mouth and his hands on my body. "Please, Peter. Don't make me wait any longer." After all this time, I wanted him inside me. I didn't care if it was frantic; I only cared that he was inside me. So, he pushed against me, his hips pressing my legs farther open as his cock rubbed against my already dripping pussy. I was ready and I let him feel that I was and his eyes seemed to darken before me, the beast ready to leap out and conquer. And I wanted it. A slight tilt of my hips sent the head into my body. Peter growled and gritting his teeth, took every ounce of patience and seductive power that he had to slowly, inch-by-maddening-inch slide his pole into me. I thought I was dying. I'd never felt something as exquisite as his entry. The breath left my throat in a long gasp and I closed my eyes, pushing onto him. I wanted him closer, deeper. He breathed into my ear, a deep, masculine grunt that made tingles spread through my body and we settled into a rhythm shared by hundreds of lovers through the ages. He pumped, I pushed and we met in the middle, rocking together until we were both gasping from our approaching orgasms. I went first, moaning into his mouth as my pussy clamped onto him and he whimpered a moment later, filling my womb with hot, ripe seed. We laid there for a long time, our bodies still connected and our lips still pressing tiny kisses across each other's faces. I snuggled closer to him, loving the way that his arms tightened around me. "Peter," I said softly. "I hope we just made another baby." Life in a Northern Town Ch. 09 Night was a blur. We made love in more times and more positions than I could remember. All I knew was that after each time, Peter cuddled with me, pressing kisses all over my face and holding me like I was the most precious thing on the planet. "Did you mean what you said?" "Mmm ... what?" I was half-asleep, cuddled against him. "I said, did you mean what you said? About making a baby?" "Yes. Very serious." He squeezed me so tight that I yelped, laughing and giving him a punch. "Geez, Peter! Are you trying to kill me?" "No, sorry." He just settled me back against him. "You just made me very happy." "I'm glad, honey. Now can we go to sleep?" Morning came quickly and we were awakened by a knock on the door. Peter told me to stay in bed while he pulled on a robe and went to answer it. When he came back, he handed me a robe. "Your father's here." I couldn't get out of bed fast enough. "Daddy!" I raced across the room and threw myself into his arms, squeezing him tight. After I pulled back and saw his face, I realized what he was seeing: his daughter and a man in robes. I knew what he was thinking; I just didn't know how he felt about it. "I'm so glad to see you." "Are you all right?" The question was more directed to Peter but we both answered, "Yes." "I'm really sorry, Mr. Garland ... " "Peter, please." "Then call me Alan." I watched them shake hands a second time and we all sat down, Dad in a chair and Peter and I on the couch. His eyes followed our movements and he hid his expression behind his hand. "So ... you want to tell me what's going on?" It took about thirty minutes to tell my father everything. He listened, at times awestruck by the scope of mother's interference, but didn't say anything until I had finished. "I had no idea that things had gotten this out of hand, Taylor. Why didn't you tell me?" "She's your wife, Daddy. I assumed that you'd take her side." He smiled warmly. "You assumed wrong." I jumped off the couch and again flung myself into his embrace, crying for all that I had lost. Daddy held me tightly, rubbing my back and whispering soft words. When I sat back, he was still smiling, his eyes misty as well. "That was my grandchild, baby. I would never have let anything happen to my grandchild, no matter what." "I'm sorry, Daddy." My Dad looked up at Peter. "Did you know about the child?" Peter nodded negatively. "Would you have wanted the child?" Again, Peter nodded, this time in a positive manner. "You would have wanted a child at your age?" "I'm in love with your daughter, Alan. I would have taken anything as long as I got her." I stood up, holding my father's hand and he looked up at me, then over to Peter. "And do you feel the same way?" "Yes, sir. Very much so." I gave my Dad's hand a gentle squeeze. "I love him, Daddy." "Good." He stood up and gave me another hug. "I can leave knowing that you're in good hands." He started toward the door. "I'm going to go take a shower and get some breakfast. Anybody interested?" Peter smiled, putting his arm around my shoulder. "Sounds good to me." * * * * * Four years later "Come on, Peter! We'll be late." I pushed the last suitcase into the back of the Expedition and slammed the trunk down just as Morgan came around the corner with his kite. Every time I looked at him, I saw the beauty of his father: the dark eyes, the unruly hair and a smile that warmed my heart. "Mom, do you think Grandpa will fly my kite with me?" "I think he'd like that very much. Run and go get it." He grinned even wider, tearing off toward the house. "And tell your father to hurry up!" I slid into the front passenger's seat and tucked my purse into the cubby with a smile. So much had changed for us. My prediction had been true; we did make a baby that night and nine months later, Morgan Peter Garland came into the world. Our wedding had been hasty but Peter wouldn't hear of waiting until after the baby was born. He wanted Morgan to have a proper start in life and he told me that he couldn't live without me. Morgan hopped into the car, carefully setting his kite in the opposite seat, then buckling himself in. Peter got in behind the wheel. "Sorry. Phone call." He couldn't stop grinning. I stared at him for a long moment. "Tell me." "No. I want to wait until we reach Dad's." "You're not going to make me squirm for three hundred miles. Tell me or no ... " I pointed to my crotch and he feigned sadness. "Now, tell me." "A million." "What?!" I shrieked in joy. Peter had worked two years on a book of Shakespeare's soliloquies, aimed at high school students and his agent had been shopping it around. What he had just said to me was that one of the publishers had offered a million dollars to publish his book. "Oh, Peter! That's wonderful!" I hugged him, pausing to kiss his mouth lingeringly. "Wow! If I'd have known you'd kiss me like that, I'd have told you sooner." "Don't sit there and act like you don't get any, Mr. Garland." I kissed him again, savoring the softness of his tongue against mine. "You've gotten so much that I'm in trouble." "In trouble? What do you mean?" I grinned at him. "I'm pregnant again." "Oh, baby." I could tell that he was going to cry by the sound of his voice and he jumped out of the car, came around to my side and pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my hair. "I want a girl this time. A cute little girl with her mother's eyes." "You aren't worried?" "About what?" "Being close to fifty and being a father?" "Not at all." He cupped my face with his hands, searching my eyes. "I love you, Taylor. I love you so much." When his mouth covered mine, I shivered, wanting him inside me as always. "Would you stop kissing so we can go see Grandpa?" We both laughed and wiped our tears away. Peter got back in and started the car, beaming goofily as we headed down the road toward my Dad's house. I laid my head on his shoulder, sighing in happiness as I watched our town melt away, glad that I had come back to find my love and my life in a northern town.