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A Fool Stumbles Into Love

By: carvohi



Introduction:

Two young men are in one's backyard in heated discussion. Their exact ages, and precise occupations aren't relevant. Both are well paid, upwardly mobile, and disgustingly healthy.

Warren scolded his friend, "Cal you're not a kid anymore. It's time you stopped frittering your life away and found a woman and settled down."

Cal, whose full name is Caleb Burkheim, answered, "Cut it out Warren, I'm happy the way things are. I don't need any woman around telling me how to live my life. It's the solitary life for me."

Warren, that was Warren Kaminski, Cal's life long friend, wouldn't let up, "You better start thinking about your future. No man is happy living alone. You need a good woman, a warm body beside you at night, someone to help with the cleaning, cooking, and the wash."

"Look I have a maid. She comes in twice a week, cleans, and does the wash, and I like to do my own cooking thank you."

Warren retorted, "Yeah, but what about that warm body at night."

Laughing Cal snapped back, "I have Maggie." He leaned down and patted the head of his six year old black lab retriever. "I have Maggie here. She sleeps in the bed sometimes, and she never nags except to go out and when its time to eat."

Warren gave Maggie a scratch, "You're hopeless buddy. Isn't there any way I can get you meet a girl."

Cal who was working on his lawnmower, answered, "I'd be interested if I could find a girl who wouldn't end up being a warden." He tightened a bolt on the belt that held the lawnmower blades in place, "You know anybody like that?"

Warren, squatting on his haunches next to his friend answered, "As a matter of fact I think there might be just such a girl."

After tightening another bolt Cal tossed the wrench in the toolbox, he responded, "And she's not somebody's pet dog?"

"I wouldn't kid Cal." Scratching Maggie again, "You've got a dog. You need a babe."

Cal, "And you think you've got one."

"I do."

"She weighs less than two hundred pounds?"

"A slight, slim young thing with a delicious figure," 

Cal inquired, "She doesn't have one of those high pitched screechy voices?"

"This girl's a perfect soprano."

"No diseases?"

"Clean as a whistle."

Cal stood up, having given up on any chance at fixing his lawnmower as long as his friend was around, "So you've found me a girl. She's pretty, smart, well shaped, and she doesn't shed."

Warren laughed, "And she's dying to meet you."

Cal laughed too, "That I doubt. OK, you want me to meet a girl. I'll meet a girl. When and where?

Warren grabbed his friend by the shoulders, "I'll pick you up tomorrow night at 7:00. We're headed for the tavern."

Cal answered, "No, I'll meet you there at 7:00. I prefer to have my own transportation on the off hand chance you're playing a joke."

Warren answered, "OK, fair enough. Tomorrow night, 7:00 o'clock, at the tavern."



The next evening Cal was predictably late. He'd never been very adept at dating; always finding a way to slide his foot in his mouth at the most awkward moment. A healthy happy guy, just a loser with girls, he only went this evening to appease his best friend.

Cal walked in. The tavern was reasonably well lighted by bar scene standards. He was able to see most of the way across the room. 

The front of the tavern was home to a nice respectable restaurant. Here one could get a pretty decent home cooked meal at a halfway decent price. Sure it wasn't a Denny's with all you can eat pancakes, but they made good eggs in the morning, pretty good club sandwiches at noon, and great steaks to order at night. 

The restaurant waitresses were mostly old timers; the kind who knew everyone's parents, and weren't reluctant to drop the, 'hey you should have seen your kid the other night, yeah drunk as a skunk.' Every small town has the type; home grown, honest, hard working busy bodies who did their damnedest to keep everybody's children off the streets when they were young and out of the calaboose when they were older. Cal had to admit he loved them.

Cal went through the restaurant and on back to the bar. The bar had a name. It was called 'Aunt Sal's Saloon', after the owner. She'd even had a sign made up so everyone would know. As bars and restaurants went, it was a great place to hang around, lose at pool, foul up at darts, and stay unlucky with girls, at least that was the case if you had a name like Cal. He walked on in. The place hadn't changed much. Hell, he'd only been away about three days.

At the far end there were two pool tables. He'd played on them once in a while. They were too close to the walls, and neither was correctly balanced; one good shot usually got most of the balls in one of the corner pockets. Even so, Cal wasn't very good. He had a slight stance in one eye, and was a little bit myopic. That meant glasses and reliable inaccuracy. His pool playing was always good for a laugh, or as was the case with Warren, he was a good set up man to draw in some fish. Warren was a real 'Minnesota Fats' when it came to pool. 

Warren was good at darts too, and at baseball, and football, and at just about anything that required anything approaching athleticism. Cal, well Cal was Warren's unofficial cheer leader. Ever since they were in grade school the dialogue had stayed pretty much the same; 'How did we do Cal, Way to go Warren.' 

Cal didn't care. Warren was his best friend. No the saloon never changed. 

A teak wood bar extended the length of the back room on the south side, not that anyone else knew it was on the southern side. Two women, both middle aged, usually tended the drinks. A person was able to buy most anything; a simple domestic beer or almost any of the more exotic hard drinks. 

Cal wasn't much of a drinker. He had a weak stomach when it came to alcohol; two or three drinks in, be it beer or something hard, and he was ready for the porcelain throne. He liked the taste of whiskey; it just didn't like him, so he and it agreed to stay mostly apart. 

It was a clean place, at least clean for a tavern. There were numerous tables, most of which had at least one, maybe two legs a little off center, meaning they were easy to rock. Cal thought, 'nothing like a table that turns over drinks.' 

All the tables were covered with some kind of cloth, red and white checkers mostly but some were more simple. It was a good idea to keep the table tops covered. There were so many sets of initials, drawings, and phone numbers scratched in them Sally wouldn't make any money. Everybody would spend all night reading.

Most of the tables had five or six chairs. But that more often depended on how many people were at a particular spot. One or two really popular people could draw twelve or fourteen chairs, while a nearby table might by the habitué of a single lonely seat. Regardless, one could rest assured at least some of the chairs were wobbly; always a scenario for an accident.

Cal liked people. In fact he'd always liked going to the bar. The only problem he had was he'd probably be at the table where the chairs disappeared to other places. It wasn't that he was a stick in the mud, it was just that he was a stick in the mud; a great listener but a noncontributory block of wood when it came to conversation, and he thought he had about as much sex appeal as a slab of bacon, not that he was fat.

Cal wasn't a fatso. He wasn't especially skinny either; at least he didn't think so. At six feet and one hundred seventy pounds, he thought he was pretty OK. That was Cal, pretty OK.

He looked around and spotted Warren. He thought, time to go get overlooked. Cal liked girls, he liked them a lot. He was just that perennial second place kind of guy. He couldn't count how many times he'd heard the fabled phrase, "If I didn't like so and so more, I'd want you to be my boyfriend."

Well he considered, 'time to go lose another round.' He sidled over to Warren's table.

Warren had his arm around his girlfriend Annie, "Hey Cal, I was getting worried."

"I was a little late getting started, couldn't decide what to wear."

Warren looked over what Cal had on. He was wearing pretty much what he wore all the time, a pair of faded jeans, gray T-shirt, and tennis shoes, not exactly the debonair cavalier.

"You look good." Warren kissed his girl on the cheek, "When are the girls coming?"

Cal looked confused, "Girls? I thought you said a girl."

"Oh I did, but the girl we want you to meet has a friend staying with her, so we had to ask both." Warren smiled, "Hey, you get a choice."

Cal sat down. Laughing he said, "You mean I get to be told no twice."

"That's what I love about you buddy, always the optimist."

Annie looked up, "There they are!" She waved at two girls who'd just come in the bar, "Over here!"

Cal had his back to the girls. He peered around, 'Holy shit!' One was drop dead gorgeous, and other was no loser. He figured he might as well pack up and go home now. 

The girls sauntered over and sat down.

Cal and Warren looked the girls over. The girls looked Cal and Warren over too.

Annie broke the ice, "Sandy you know Warren. This other one is Cal. Cal this is Sandy."

Sandy put her arm on her girlfriend's shoulder, "This is Maureen."

Maureen looked from Warren to Cal and back. She had that look on her face like she was wondering why she'd bothered to show up. She said, "Hi."

Cal answered, "Hi."

Warren gave the girls a generous smile, "Sandy you look terrific, and so do you Maureen."

Cal thought, 'They did look terrific.' 

Sandy was clearly the extrovert. She looked it. Bright smile, clear complexion enhanced by a bucketful of freckles. She had beautiful blue eyes. She had on just enough eye make up to make her look really fresh and clean. She was wearing a snow white blouse, peter-pan collar he thought with dark blue piping around the collar and short sleeves. 

She was wearing a short, and he thought really sexy, plaid mini skirt. It was pleated, and looked really hot, like in extra hot. She was wearing white tennis shoes and white socks. 

She had small hands, smallish breasts; Cal guessed maybe a B cup, and the whitest straightest damned teeth he'd seen. 

She had honey colored blond hair. He could tell it had a rinse or something in it. It looked great. It was combed out straight, and hung invitingly down around her shoulders. This was some high school's prom queen once. He knew he'd never strike out, because he'd never get to bat.

Cal checked out Maureen too. Right away he knew she knew what he was doing, and he could tell she was put off by it. This one didn't like male scrutiny. Maybe she didn't like men? She still looked damn good.

Maureen had dark hair, dark brown, almost black. No rinse there. She had it in a kind of sloppy looking; I don't care what I look like, bun. He bet she didn't care what she looked like too.

She was wearing glasses, black horned rimmed glassed. Normally that would have been a turn off, but they looked good on her. She looked smart. He guessed between the two girls, Maureen was the brain.

She had a white blouse on too. Hers was a more a classic V-necked collar. The top three buttons weren't buttoned, and he could see she had a nice pair. Her boobs were bigger than Sandy's; maybe a C cup. 'Nice set,' he thought. 

She had a kind of a short sleeved vest coat thing over her blouse. It looked good on her. 

She was wearing a pair of loose fitting black knee length slacks. They matched her vest, and a pair of black leather lace up shoes with a slightly elevated heel, and black knee length socks. 

Cal thought he liked them both. He was supposed to be with Sandy.

Maureen gave Cal a tired, slightly irritated look, "Seen enough?"

Cal was flustered. He knew he'd been looking. Wasn't that what he was supposed to do? He didn't know what to say, "Well I guess so."

Maureen exuded a minimalist grimace. Looking at Sandy, "Not exactly a barracuda, huh." She looked at Cal, "I bet you drive a pick up."

"As a matter of fact I do," responded Cal.

Sandy slid over close to Cal. Cozening up she looked at Maureen, "He's my date. You go get your own."

Maureen looked askance at Sandy and with undisguised contempt at Cal, "Think I will." She got up and walked toward the bar.

Cal knew he'd been put down. He was used to it, but he didn't like where Maureen was headed. All saloons had bars, and all bars had their hierarchical placements. Maureen was headed straight toward the lowest end of the tavern food chain, "Someone should warn her, not all the guys here are the greatest."

Sandy had her arm on Cal's wrist, "Maureen's a big girl. She'll be all right."

Cal blushed when Sandy touched him. He wasn't the type that got touched much. He watched Maureen walk off. He recognized the guys she was headed for, and didn't like them. It concerned him a little.

Sandy took his chin and turned his head, "Hey, you're with me."

Cal blushed some more and smiled, "Oh yeah." He still had Maureen positioned out of the corner of his eye. He thought, 'I hope she knows what she's doing?'

Sandy watched the expression on Cal's face. She considered, 'This one's really backward. Not her type at all.' She smiled inwardly, 'Maybe she'd have some fun. It was late in the summer, nothing much going on. Her boyfriend wouldn't be back for several weeks anyway.' 

She discreetly looked him up and down. 'Not bad looking for a dope. Brown eyes, thick brown hair, messy though. Probably doesn't own a comb. Calloused hands, nice tan, really works for a living she guessed. Sort of muscular in a skinny kind of way; not the greatest build, not the best looking either, but for an August tryst he'd do. 

"So what do you do Cal?"

Cal looked back from the bar. He still didn't like Maureen's choice of new friends, "Oh I work for the government."

"Really like what, you a carpenter or something?"

"No, actually I'm a researcher for the Federal government."

"What do you research?"

"Ideas mostly, they pay me to study new ways to do things. I scour the Internet for inventions and inventors, and then I track them down and see if they need any help."

Sandy was bored already, "Really, I thought by your tan and your muscles, you'd be someone who spent a lot of time outside."

He liked the flattery, "I do try to get out when I can. I like to build things."

"Like what?" She thought this wasn't a guy; this was a nerd.

"Oh I try to build things out of wood. I built a boat this summer, a runabout, twenty-footer, hybrid style, but it's my design. I like to build furniture too, built a rocker this summer."

Sandy realized they'd found her a turkey, "Oh how interesting. Do you like to go swimming?"

"I love the water. That's why I built the boat. I go fishing and swimming all the time."

'Crap,' she conjured 'worms and shit like that,' "Oh how interesting. Would you take me out on your boat?"

Cal perked up. She liked him, "Sure I'd love to. You name the time."

Sandy responded, "How about the day after tomorrow?" She looked around the tavern. The bar had a band; it had shown up, and they were about to play, "Do you like to dance?"

Christ thought Cal. He never danced, two left feet, "Gee Sandy, I'm not sure."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

They both got up. The band had started to play an old Robert Palmer song. Cal liked Robert Palmer, but had no idea what the beat was.

They got on the floor and started to dance, or at least Sandy started to dance. Cal stood there stiffly and tried to pretend he knew what he was doing. Sandy had some moves. She danced all around him. She slid in real close, then slid away. She liked to dance, and she liked what she was doing. She was teasing the shit out of him. 

Maureen was talking to two biker types at the end of the bar, but she was watching 'Stupid' out of the corner of her eye. She decided 'Stupid' was a good cognomen for Cal whatever his name was. He was out there making a fool of himself, or more accurately Sandy was making him look like a fool. 

While Maureen spied on Cal one of the greasy bike guys grabbed her arm, "Hey pay attention to us."

Maureen yanked her arm away, "Back off Jack!" She was surprised by the guy's audacity. She didn't like being touched, and especially not by guys like him.

The biker guy got off his stool and reached for her arm again.

Maureen backed away, "Get off."

The two guys and Maureen were causing a small scene, not much of a scene, but enough to start to attract some attention.

Cal saw the guy grab her. He knew someone should have warned her. He smiled at Sandy, "Excuse me a moment."

Cal was no hero, and when it came to any kind of fighting he was the last man anyone would want on his side, but he was still a gentleman, and Maureen looked like a damsel in distress. He slowly walked toward the two guys, "Hey let her go."

Across the room Warren saw the scene develop. Cal wasn't a fighter, never had been. That was Warren's specialty. Everyone in the bar knew it too. Watching his buddy Cal, he knew he was in way over his head. Those biker dudes were tough hombres. Warren stood up; making certain the biker guys saw him.

The bikers weren't impressed at all by Cal, but they saw Warren. It wasn't worth risking a black eye over some girl. The first biker put up his hands, "Hey, we were just kidding." Turning to his friend, "Come on, let's head up the road." They got up to go. On the way out one looked at Warren, "See ya."

Everyone in the tavern knew why they'd backed down. That was everybody but Cal. He thought he'd done something special. He looked at Maureen, "Sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your fun, but those two aren't the greatest. I guess someone should have warned you about which end of the bar was best."

Maureen had watched the whole thing. She, like everyone else, had seen Warren stand up. She knew what was what and who was who. She could have said something but didn't, "Thanks Cal." She walked away toward the more respectable end of the bar.

Cal strutted back to Sandy, "Sorry for the interruption. Where were we?"

Sandy put her arms around Cal's neck, "My hero." She kissed him on the cheek. 

There was a smattering of laughter around the bar, but Warren was still watching out for his buddy. The laughter quickly died, and everybody went back to doing what they'd been doing before.

Cal hadn't noticed the laughter. He'd been kissed. He was a hero. He felt like George Clooney. 

For the next several minutes he and Sandy danced, or at least she danced while he mimicked what he thought was dancing. They did their routines through three more tunes; until at last, flushed and a little excited Cal assisted the cool and confident Sandy back to their table. 

For another forty minutes or so Cal rambled on and on about boat building, rocking chairs, and miniature wooden windmills. Sandy gushed and simpered.

Meanwhile Maureen had had just about enough of the pigeons at the bar. She wanted to do something a little more entertaining. Slipping back to where Sandy, Warren, Annie, and Cal were she asked, "Does anybody shoot pool here?"

Cal laughed, "At those tables?"

Warren chided, "Oh come on Cal, there no that bad."

Cal looked at Maureen, "The tables are a little shop worn; not exactly true."

Maureen pinched Cal's arm, "Come on show me."

Cal wasn't much at pool, but agreed to at least get Maureen started. Sandy and Annie tagged along. Warren wandered off in the direction of the men's room.

One of the tables was in use, but the other one, the older less stable one, was vacant. Cal asked Maureen, "What do you want to play; some eight ball?"

She answered, "Sure why not."

Cal set the balls up, and Maureen broke. The first game they played went to Cal. He was a little surprised. Maureen wasn't very good, and he'd made some shots he never ordinarily made. He got the second and third games too.


A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 02



When it came to women Caleb Burkheim was a novice; a true babe in the woods, about as inexperienced as a man could be. Now he liked women; he liked them a lot, it was just that he could never seem to get his ducks in line. He was always on the wrong page; always looking to the left when he should have been looking to the right. 

His most recent wave of calamities had started with Sandy. Sandy was a real looker; the cat's meow, the proverbial rose amidst the thorns. In fact those were the very features that ended up being Cal's undoing. Sandy was a talker, a gossip, a little conniver, catty. She was always a source of pain for some poor gullible love struck fool. Like a flower with a prickly stem her modus operandi was always the same; find em, tease em, touch em, feel em, and forget em. Using just that technique she'd managed to work Cal over pretty good. 

Sandy's last little trick at the tavern was especially tacky. She'd taken up with a rich country club acquaintance, an acquaintance for whom she'd been putting out. She dumped Cal for a basketball game; leaving poor Cal hanging on like a fool, with egg on his face and a pointless gift in his hand. Sure Sandy took the gift, a necklace, but left her besotted victim to the cruel mercies of an upscale crowd who enjoyed watching others suffer.

To be honest, most of the country club crowd was a pretty decent sort. Most of the better ones seldom habituated the tavern. It was Sandy, and her ilk, who skulked around the haunts of the less affluent, places like the tavern, in search of innocents they could humiliate, and it was like Cal was wearing a sign, 'please humiliate me'.

Yet Cal's worse humiliation, occurred after he fled the tavern, for he ran smack into two of the rowdier sorts who'd had a grudge against him for something with which he had almost nothing to do. Outside on the lot, accosted by two bikers, and on the verge of being brutally beaten, Cal found himself the victim of another of his miss-identifications.

Several days earlier he'd thought he'd rescued another girl from these very bikers. As it turned out, his rescued damsel had been a sixth degree black belt; a real Chuck Norris. He'd rescued no one, and that night on the parking lot, to his chagrin, he found that out; for Maureen, his one time damsel in distress, used her martial skills to rescue him!

So poor Cal wasn't a fighter, he wasn't a very good judge of women, and he certainly wasn't much of a lover, but he was still a man. He had his pride. To be humbled, exposed to ridicule, not once, but twice by women was bad, but to have that discovery made in public, in front of dozens of other people was unbearable. 

After the 'show up' by Maureen he really did flee. He jumped in his pick up truck, that in itself to many the mark of a rube, and drove off into oblivion. He found a private place and released his tensions with buckets of very unmanly tears. Then he went home, watched television all night, and tried to reassemble the ravaged shreds of his pride. 

Let's take a closer look at this misbegotten hero.

There were a lot things that Cal wasn't, and to anyone in the neighborhood that hot August summer those shortcomings were all too apparent, but there was a lot more to Cal than simple naiveté, innocence, and blind trust. There was a fundamental decency about Cal, and, though well hidden, a powerful intelligence, that, occasionally, did well up and save the day. 

Alone in his domicile, surrounded by the emblems of his true character, Cal put the pieces of his life back together. There in his darkened cell, in the early hours of the morning he assessed himself and his situation. 

The first girl, Sandy, he realized, was little more than a gilded hobby horse; a mirage with the buttons, bells and whistles. She'd dazzled him with her artificiality and the superficial charm typical of the shallow and the emotionally frivolous, the irrelevant. Sandy was the shiny wind up toy, the cheap masquerade doll; the frill one won while standing in the false evening light of a huckster's stand at the carnival, only to find it to be a worthless piece of fool's gold when examined in the clearer more sober light of the morning. 

Cal wiped the scales from his eyes. His drunken besotted infatuation with Sandy had been more his own imagination than her cupidity.

The second girl was different. Maureen was real. Sure she'd gotten him at pool, and yes she'd let him believe he'd rescued her, but she'd never made him any promises, never made any simpering dishonest comments. She'd wiped him up at pool, and then she even offered to do it again! Then again when he thought he'd rescued her she hadn't pretended anything; she'd taken the supposed rescue as one of the few remaining rights of womanhood. 

In Cal's mind women had the right to expect to be defended, rescued by brave men, even if the man wasn't all that tough. In fact, it had been with Maureen he'd made real plans, and had the occasion to have a real date. Maybe building a gazebo wasn't talking about building a life together, but it had been real, tangible, a fungible investment of time and energy. He'd meant it when he said he'd build it, and he'd pay for it, and he'd said it not because he was trying to buy something, he wasn't after anything. He said it he because really wanted to do it. He'd wanted to do it for her. 

Cal had his good qualities. He was honest, loyal, reliable, trusting, not bad to look at, and, though few people knew it, he was pretty well off financially. Most of his resources were trapped in securities and other things that had little fluidity, but he had money, money up the ass. Cal was smart, a genius, and he'd used his genius at work to make money for others, and those investments had paid rich dividends for himself too. For Cal a few hundred dollars worth of wood and a few dozen hours of labor were a small price to pay if it benefited someone he liked. And he liked Maureen!

That was it! Cal liked Maureen. He liked her when they argued over the plans for the gazebo. He liked her even more while he lay miserable on the floor of his home made boat so she could watch the fireworks in comparative comfort, even if she did fall asleep anyway!

Sure he was a man. He liked her rich thick black velvety hair when it swirled around her pretty face in undisciplined wavy fronds. He liked her pert little nose, those shimmery liquid green eyes, and her two lush pendulous perfect pear-shaped boobs as they mischievously pressed the front of her blouse apart. He loved to look at those muscular well shaped thighs, and the long clean sweep of her neck. But he liked her crisp tongue, her sparkling bubbly lilting voice, her effervescent bouncy stride, and her crusty no nonsense dialogue even more. It wasn't just her concupiscence that attracted him; it was her vivacity!

Yeah the two girls were a lot different. Sandy left him wanting something that proved to be cloying and cheap. Maureen left him with an insatiable craving, an unslakable thirst for the real thing.

When he heard the phone message from Maureen, the desperation in her voice, her bewilderment at the heaps of supplies, her appeal for help regarding the gazebo, he couldn't deny her. To deny her would be to deny who he was, his character, his better self, and, albeit his less than wholesome pent up sexual desires. 

Maureen needed his help. He had to help her, not just because it was the right and good thing to do, but because he needed her to need him. He'd fallen in love, that's right, stupid, backward, dull, sexually ignorant Cal was in love; head over heels in love.

When he reached her parent's she was in the back yard staring at the supplies Lowe's had dropped off. She was still in her pajamas. They were cotton, a girl's pajamas. She looked maybe, thirteen in in them, but a grown womanly kind of thirteen. They were a two piece set, a skimpy little top that barely reached her waist. It buttoned up the front, small white plastic buttons. The very top buttons were unfastened, and a dainty ruffled peter-pan collar fit loosely, suggestively around her neck. 

Of course she was in her night things so there was no bra underneath the top. Her boobs, large womanly boobs, were rising and falling with each breath, and she was breathing heavily because she'd been crying. 

She must have heard him coming because she got up. The first thing he saw was the way her pajama panties were wedged in her vagina, her woman's place. His eyes didn't stray there long. Her face needed his attention. Because she'd been crying there were little rivulets of partially dried water that meandered down her cheeks. She'd neglected to wash her evening's make up off, and the little trickling streams were highlighted by un-wiped mascara. That wasn't what held his attention though. It was her lips; her red luscious heart shaped lips, still partly reddened by last night's luminous gloss, and partly smeared under her chin, that gorgeous little dimpled chin. 

She needed a handkerchief. She needed a soft consoling voice. She needed a steady supportive arm. But most of all she needed to be kissed. 

After some preliminary commentary about the wood and the supplies Cal set out on a campaign of affectionate reassurance. He took her in his arms, cupped her sweet head in his hands and assaulted that gorgeous mouth with his. They mumbled and whispered endearments or something, he heard her but the words didn't register. All he could do, could think of was that beautiful sweet face, those delicious eyes, two adorable cheeks, her precious chin, and her succulent puckered up rosy red lips. 

Her thick black hair wafted down and around her face. He took his hands and carefully swept away. Cal couldn't allow anything, not even something as luxuriant as her raven black tresses, to obscure the delicacies of her perfect face, her marvelous smile. It was during those moments Cal realized what hunger, starvation, really meant. 

His hunger, his thirst, for this girl was an insatiable, unquenchable, need. If this was what love was, then he was truly a starving man, a drowning sailor. It frightened him. If this was love, then he was truly a lost soul, a slave, the thrall of the woman in his arms.

Maureen gently pushed him away, "Would you like to come inside?"

Cal looked down at her face. Her skin was a pinkish red and it shone with a dampened sheen. The pupils of her eyes were so large they completely enshrouded her emerald corneas. Her face glowed. Her skin felt hot to the touch. 

Her question had momentarily broken the spell. He thought maybe a cup of coffee before they started would be a god idea. Besides, she needed to put something else on. He answered, "Sure."

Maureen almost floated as she led Cal across the back lawn. She hadn't wanted a man this much in her life. In truth, she never thought of men that much anyway. She'd only been with two, one on the back seat of a car, and with the other she'd been either drunk or drugged. She only remembered furtive groping hands, wincing pain, and the alcoholic stink of bad breath. No she wasn't truly a virgin, but considering what she'd had; this morning would be her first real experience with what she believed was true love.

She glanced back at this guy following her. He was an odd one. He was really quite handsome, but it was an awkward sort of handsome. She remembered watching some of those old black and white movies where the girl found some backwoodsman, or some ape man. He's all man, but in many ways not a man at all. That's what Cal reminded her of. 

She'd found this huge hunk of raw marble, this great chunk of unrefined gold. It was her job to sculpt a masterpiece, take the gold and wind it into the finest jewelry. In the process she'd find the woman she knew was hiding inside herself. She remembered some of her college friends used to call her a dyke. She wasn't a dyke at all; she liked men, she was more like a frozen body someone had found in the Klondike, she was a 'Klondike', a woman trapped in ice. She knew that didn't make any sense, but it was a way of explaining how she sometimes felt. There was something missing, something missing in her, something she couldn't get at. Perhaps by making this sow's ear into a silk purse, she'd stop being the scull and become her very own fairy princess. 

She led him up the steps of the back porch to the house. They had to pass through the kitchen to get to her small bedroom in the back. As they started through the kitchen Cal sauntered over to the kitchen table and sat down.

Maureen looked at him in disbelief. What was he doing? Didn't he know what she meant? She wasn't inviting him in for breakfast. She was bringing him in for her! Now the idiot was sitting at the kitchen table staring at her like a moron. He really was a hunk of marble, or more accurately a pile of rocks, a real blockhead.

Cal offered, "You want me to make the coffee while you get dressed?"

Maureen fidgeted a little, fiddled with one of the buttons on her pajama top, "No I'll make it. You just sit there."

Cal sat there enthralled while Maureen made coffee. She was just beautiful, absolutely the most perfect human being he'd even seen. He watched as she moved about the kitchen. She was so graceful. She took the empty pot to the sink and filled it with cold water. While the water filled the pot she was leaning forward, her breasts, big beautiful orbs nestled in their tight cocoon of cotton gently bounced back and forth, struggling to escape the soft fabric. He wished he could go over and wrap his hands around them. He bet they were firm but delicate. 

Maureen coasted back to the pot where she poured in the water. Her strong legs carried her so lithely. She had large, not big and bulky, but muscular thighs; they rippled as she walked, and the cheeks of her ass quivered as she filled the water in the pot.

Over to the refrigerator she went. She opened the door. Cal watched as a cool blast of air hit her nipples. They grew in size, then extruded like two tiny missiles. He wished he could pinch, no kiss each tender bud. 

He wondered if he dare be brazen enough to approach her, to try to take advantage of her, to attempt to, how they say it, seduce her. He wanted to. He wished he had the courage. No, that wouldn't be the gentlemanly thing to do. The time wasn't ripe.

Maureen did everything she could to get him to do something. She did everything but pour water on her pajama blouse. Did she have to wipe an ice cube on her tits? What was it going to take to get this cretin to make a move? He really was a dither. 

She thought back about what Sandy had said. Sandy had commented she thought the guy was a virgin. Maureen wondered. Was he a virgin? He had to be twenty-six, no twenty-seven years old. Nobody's a virgin that long!

The coffee had perked. Maureen got two cups, and brought the pot and a hot plate over to the table. She sat down on the corner just away from Cal in order to give him a better view.

Maureen looked at him a little impatiently, "You really are raw aren't you?"

Cal didn't understand what she meant, "No I'm in pretty good shape. We can get a lot done this morning."

She frowned, "That's not what I meant."

He gave her a bewildered look, "Then what? What are you talking about?"

"I mean you haven't been with many girls have you?"

A little diffident at that he replied, "I've been with girls."

She answered, "Yeah? How many?"

Cal poured himself some coffee. He spilled a lot of it on the table, "You have a napkin?"

"Over there." Maureen pointed to the shelf next to him, but almost exactly beside where she was sitting.

Cal got up to get a napkin.

Maureen could see he had a boner; "You're a virgin aren't you?"

He dropped the napkins. In a panic he turned around, "No I'm not a virgin. What brought that up?"

Maureen pointed to his chair, "Sit down."

He went back over, wiped up the spill and sat back down, "I don't know why you'd say something like that?"

She flipped her right hand over, palm up she answered, "Oh come on."

He was on the defensive, "Come on what? Do I have to come over there and rip your clothes off?"

She didn't say anything.

He didn't move.

She answered, "Well?"

He asked, "Well what?"

"You going to come over here and rip my clothes off?"

Cal didn't know what to do, what to say. He was white as a sheet, His hands were soaking wet and shaking. His dick was as hard as a rock. If he moved he'd probably have a bad discharge right in his pants. He'd had wet dreams, but never when he was awake, and not around a girl, never right in front of a girl!

He was kind of scared, "You want me to tear your clothes off?" She was turning red. He could see she had this wet sheen all over her, and it wasn't even hot. What was he supposed to do?

She asked, "You want to tear my clothes off?"

He was losing his poise. He couldn't do that. That would be like; well it would be like rape. He couldn't do that, He tried to laugh it off, "OH come on Maureen."

She answered, "You are a virgin aren't you?"

That was the last straw. Was he a virgin? Even if he was, he wouldn't admit it to her, "OK, I haven't been with a lot of girls, but I've been with some."

She crossed her arms, "No you haven't."

He watched her cross her arms. Her elbows and forearms were pushing her breasts way up. They were pushing right up against her pajama top. The buttons were pushing apart. Her nipples were sticking out; He had to get out of there!

He quaffed down a big gulp of coffee, "Look maybe I'm not as experienced as you. No I'm no Don Juan."

She was smiling at him.

He lost his cool, "Look, I'm out of here. Call me when you're ready to start the gazebo." He got up and started for the door.

Maureen got up and intercepted him before he got out of the kitchen. She leaned back against the storm door, hands folded behind her back, breasts heaving, "What makes you think I'm so damned experienced?"

He stopped. Standing maybe two feet in front of her, "Well I'll bet you are. I bet you've been around. I bet you've been with a lot of guys. I bet you've even been with a guy, one of those guys at the country club, this week!" 

He was angry. She'd called him a virgin. She could see right through him! He was sorry he said what he did even before he finished saying it. He knew it wasn't true, not even close to be being true. The look on her face gave it away. She hadn't been with anybody. He'll he knew that. Why did he say that? He'd really hurt her.

Maureen hadn't expected anything like that. What, he thought she was some kind of whore, a strumpet, some little piglet who liked to sleep around? 

Maureen backed away from the door. With her right hand she pushed it open. She kept her eyes glued to the floor. She didn't say anything.

Cal didn't look to the right or the left. He walked straight through the door. Like a zombie, like a stupid zombie he walked down to his truck, opened the door, and climbed in. He put the key in the ignition, and turned it on.

Maureen let the storm door close quietly. He'd really hurt her. She walked back in the kitchen and started to cry. She looked around, decided to leave everything the way it was, and went back to her little bedroom. She fell on the bed and started to cry. She asked herself. Why did she put him on the spot like that? She knew right away he was a virgin. And why did he have to say the things he did. He was so cruel. Did he honestly believe that shit he said? She was a good girl. She kept sobbing and weeping.  

Outside in the truck Cal turned the truck off. He sat there like the true asshole he was. Why did he say those mean things to her? She could read him like a book. She'd had him pegged that first night at the tavern. He couldn't do this. He couldn't just drive off. He was sorry. She was a good girl. At least she'd been good to him, excepting for the pool hustle anyway.




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 02



Cal got back out of the truck and climbed back up on the porch. Though the storm door was closed, the main door was still open, and the top of the storm door had the screen, not glass, in. 

He knocked very softly. Shit, what a coward, He called in through the door, "Maureen?"

There was no answer.

"Maureen" He called a little louder.

Still no answer.

He opened the screen door and stepped inside the kitchen. He hoped nobody would think he was breaking in. Shit that was stupid. What did he care whether people thought he was breaking in. He yelled a little louder, "Maureen?"

Maureen heard him through the door. She didn't know what to do. She got up and sat on the side of the bed. She took the top of her pajamas and wiped her eyes, and walked back out to the kitchen.

She saw him in the kitchen. She could tell right away he was back to apologize, "Yes?"

He was still too stupid to move. Rooted to the floor in the middle of the kitchen he said, "You're right."

"About what?"

He almost broke into tears, "I've never been with anybody." He sort of held up his hands, not out up, but up, "You're right. I'm a virgin. Never had a girl, never even come close."

Maureen was afraid to approach hm. He looked like he was ready to run away. She held the fingers of both her hands up over her mouth and nose. She didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or jump up and down. She stood very still and held up one hand. With that hand she held up two fingers, "I'm twenty-four years old, and this is how many; two in twenty-four years." 

Cal was mixed up, "Two what?"

Maureen should have known, "Two guys asshole."

Cal smiled. He was so relieved. This was great. They were still talking. That was greater. They were talking about something no one ever talked about. Even better, the best! They were saying things that were, that were just, just never shared. Never shared, except by, well except by people who, well; why couldn't he get through it. How could he tell her what he wanted to say, when he couldn't even get it right in his head.

Cal sat back down in the chair he'd been in a few minutes earlier, "I'm so confused, really fucked up." He blushed, "I didn't mean that, the word I mean."

Maureen came over pulled the chair she'd been sitting on so it was beside his. She ignored the profanity. She sat down, and took his two hands, "What now?"

He held her hands in his. He was afraid he was going to start crying. He felt nervous, quivery all over, "Maureen you're so perfect. Why would you ever be interested in somebody like me?"

She squeezed his hands together. She held his hands tightly. It was her turn to be confounded. What could she say that would sound sincere? Be what she wanted to convey. She squeezed his hands even tighter, "I'm not perfect. I'm kind of fat..."

He tried to interrupt, "You! Your not..."

She put a hand on his mouth. She had an idea, "You look at me and see what you want. I know the real Maureen. That goes both ways. You only think of the worst in yourself, but there' so much more. I said I only had sex with two boys, that didn't mean I only dated two. Most guys are arrogant self absorbed creeps. You're not like that. You have no idea what I see when I look at you."

She redirected, "Look you're cute, kind of handsome. But you're sweet, and you're considerate. You have a way about you. I mean I like being with you. You're interesting, and you're smart, and you're fun. I see you and I feel like I want to cuddle. You have this solid but soft way about you." 

She hesitated again, "And I want to kiss you."

She leaned forward. Just holding hands they kissed again; a long lingering kiss. When they parted their lips made a little smacking sound. They leaned in again and kissed again. The only parts of their bodies that were touching were their hands and their lips. 

Finally she got up. It was getting late and her mother would be getting home, "I have to get dressed."

He was surprised. He felt a little afraid, "Can we go out together?"

She leaned back over and kissed him again, "You wait here. I want you to take me for a ride in your truck."

He felt like he was sixteen again, "You bet!"

Maureen stepped back in her bedroom. She figured there was little chance of any love making this afternoon. Maybe something might happen later. She fished around in her drawers for something to wear; something that would knock his socks off.

She called out to Cal, "I'll be a few minutes. I have to take a shower first."

He yelled back, "Take your time. I'm going outside to check the supplies."

 Maureen went back in to her bedroom get ready. Her bedroom was on the first floor. It had always been downstairs. She showered, shampooed her hair, shaved her legs and underarms, then in wild act of stupidity she got a hair up her ass and shaved around her vagina and trimmed the rest kind of close. She thought, 'I hope he likes this.' Then she chuckled, 'if he ever gets up the nerve to get that far.'

Drying off she combed out her hair and tied it back in a loose pony tail. She tied a red ribbon in it for effect. 

Searching through her bureau she found a white silk bra she'd bought that had minimal support. She'd bought the bra a few months ago as a token of rebellion; rebellion against what exactly she didn't know. She put it on. Yes, she decided this is what she wanted; something that would let her boobs to bounce around a little.

She plowed through her middle bureau drawers but found nothing so she went to the closet. There was something in there she'd bought months ago, but had been afraid to wear. She got it out. For starters there was a white cotton blouse, a V-neck with short capped sleeves that would fit loosely over the bra. She slipped it on. Yes, she said to herself, if she kept the top buttons undone he'd get to feast on what she considered was some pretty good cleavage.

Attached to the hanger with the blouse was a dark blue fiercely pleated miniskirt. Maureen thought fiercely pleated because the material was so light weight, and there were so many pleats the thing flipped and flew around with every step. She thought her legs were heavier than they should be; a result of too many work out sessions, and she'd always been reluctant to let them show without the support of stiff nylons or pantyhose. Not today though, today she was going to let it all hang out. She pulled it up, fastened the buttons on the side, and tightened the matching dark blue belt. The belt had a cloth buckle so nothing would detract from the flirtatiousness of the skirt.

She needed panties, stockings, and shoes. In the bureau she found the dark panties she'd bought to go with the skirt and the dark blue knee high stockings. She slipped into the panties and pulled on the stockings. This was a big step for her; unsupported exposed legs not covered by slacks, a long skirt, or longish shorts. She wondered; would he really like her fat legs? Then to the closet where she found the matching two inch leather high heeled shoes. 

Fully dressed she checked herself out in the mirror. Something was wrong. It was the hair ribbon. She unfastened the red ribbon and fished a dark blue one from her bureau. Tying that in her hair she looked again. Yes!

To the make up chest. She applied some red lipstick and covered it with gloss. Then some pink cheek blush, a little pale blue eye shadow, some dark mascara, and she checked the mirror. Great!

She went to her jewelry box, got out her small gold hoops and looped them through her single piercing. She slipped on her gold wrist watch, a gold necklace, and a gold bracelet. She grabbed her cell phone and made a call to the hair dressers. Yes they could get someone in.

She was done. Walking as casually as she could she slipped into the backyard, "I'm ready."

Cal turned around, and looked at Maureen. From head to foot she looked like a mirage. Nobody could be that beautiful, "Wow Maureen. I feel like an idiot. You don't want to be seen with me."

She walked over and took his arm, "Yes I do. Come on."

Together they walked to the pick up. He held her door and helped her in. The truck was a full sized job so she had to step up to get in. He caught a glimpse of her panties, and a full view of her lovely thighs. He gulped. The way her breasts heaved when she breathed was giving him emotional fits. How was he going to be able to drive along with her beside him? Shit, and he had bench seats.

Cal walked around, got in, and started the truck, "Where do you want to go?"

"First, we're going shopping."

Cal asked, "Yeah, where?"

She answered, "I'll show you." Maureen told him to go to the mall north of town. This was the larger of the two malls in their area, and it had the more upscale stores. This was where the country club crew did their shopping, and it was where Maureen liked to hang out.

Cal said, "Hey that's kind of expensive up there."

Maureen touched his shoulder, "We're shopping for you today."

"Not there," he answered.

"Yes we are," she retorted.

He didn't argue. To be anywhere with Maureen was more than he ever hoped for. If she wanted to window shop at the expensive stores, that was cool by him. Still he would be an embarrassment. He felt like a big slug out with a beautiful fairy princess; his fairy princess. He knew that would sound stupid to most people, but he didn't care.

He warned her, "Look at me Maureen. I'm not dressed to be out someplace like the mall with you. You're all beautiful, and I'm all, well I'm ..."

She put her fingers to his mouth, "You're with me."

They drove along in his truck. He was glad he'd cleaned it out thoroughly the day before. Maggie had ridden in it, and her dog hair might have gotten on Maureen's clothes. He looked over at her while he drove. She had her window down, and the wind was frolicking through her hair. He could smell its freshness from his seat. The wind caught her miniskirt and made it flit up. He loved the view of her muscular upper legs. He almost ran off the road he was so mesmerized by her appearance. 

He told her, "You know what I'd like to do right now?"

She smiled at him, "No what?"

"I'd like to pull over and just look at you."

She answered, "Well don't. You can look at me in the mall."

They drove on in silence. He kept thinking what he should say and do, but nothing came out. He was totally out of his element. 

They reached the mall, and he parked the truck. He got out, walked around, and helped her from the truck. They walked across the parking lot side by side. Maureen put her arm around his waist, and made him put his arm around her shoulders. 

Cal was a lot taller than she was; taller by an easy eight inches. Her head barely came up to his shoulder. She fit nicely beside him. She walked in a very unique; kind of a shambling gait that made her hips swish. He liked it. He thought it made her sexier than she already was.

Neither did anything as they walked. He got a top view of her head, saw the ribbon, felt her hair fly around his shoulder and up under his face. He could look right down and see her breasts. Man they were gorgeous. He kept wondering what he was doing with a girl like this. He knew in a minute he'd either wake up and be home in bed, or she'd wake up, see who she was with and demand to be taken home. 

He had to be dreaming. This couldn't be happening to him.

They got to the mall doors. He held one open for her to pass through. She took his hand and led him to the most expensive store in the place. They went straight to the mens' clothing area.

Once in the mens' area Maureen used her finger to summon a salesperson. A middle aged man came over.

Maureen pointed at Cal, "He needs to be measured."

The salesman asked, "For anything in particular?"

Maureen answered, "Measure him for everything. We'll start with a couple suits and two sports coats, but I want four pairs of slacks, seven, no eight dress shirts, six or seven casuals, three belts, two pairs of dress shoes, one pair black, one brown. Make them wing tips. I want a couple pull over sweaters. Let's say a dozen sets of socks, all dark brown, dark blue, or black. "

She looked at the salesman, "What else do you think?"

The salesman replied, "Do you need underwear? I was thinking of some pullover shirts. How about some shorts."

Maureen replied, "Yes, yes. But I don't want those stupid pull over shirts with the phony cloth collars. Do you have any simple V-necked shirts, regular colored T-shirts, and how about some boat necked shirts. And he wears boxer undershorts, none of those jockey things that look like a man's diaper."

The salesman smiled, "Yes ma'am, we have it all."

"Good" said Maureen, "You get him measured while I pick out the suits and all the other things."

The salesman answered, "Yes ma'am."

Cal asked, "Do I have a say in this?"

Maureen smiled at him. She took her right hand, grabbed his chin, and shook it back and forth, "No you don't have a say, so don't try."

He smiled and imitated the salesman, "Yes ma'am."

Maureen drifted off, checking through the racks for materials and objects.

While she slipped away the salesman asked Cal, "Is she your girlfriend or a sister?"

Cal smiled at the salesman, "Right now I can't exactly say what she is. She sure isn't my sister, and I'm too afraid to risk calling her my girlfriend, though I want her to be." 

The salesman commented, "She seems to know what she wants."

Cal gave the salesman a conspiratorial grin, "She does doesn't she. She thinks she wants me. I keep thinking this is all a dream, she'll wake up, or I'll wake up, and it'll all vanish. You know what else. I think I better marry this girl before she gets away."

The salesman gave a nod and a smile, "You could do a lot worse."

Cal and Maureen spent close to three hours wandering the aisles of the clothing store. Maureen bought the place out. By the time they'd finished they needed a large laundry cart to get it all out to the truck. Not everything was ready; the suits, sports jackets and some of the slacks still had to be sewn, but most of the stuff was ready to go. 

Among the last things Maureen bought included a dark blue boat neck pullover shirt, a pair of dark casual shoes, and a pair of black jeans. She made Cal put those last things on. When they walked out to his truck they looked like they were a matched set.

Back out in the truck Maureen checked her watch. "We have to get you to the beauty shop."

Cal looked at her incredulously, "The what?"

"I made an appointment for you to get a hair cut."

He looked at her askance, "I don't need a hair cut."

She reached over from her seat on the passenger's side and scuffed his head, "Yes you do."

He answered, "I didn't think I did."

She smiled, still scuffing his hair, "I said you do."

He smiled, "If you say so."

They went to the hairdresser's and Maureen supervised while the hairdresser gave Cal the kind of cut she wanted. Very little hair actually came off, but when it was finished he had a totally different look. Gone was the shaggy dog, and from the discarded hair a man emerged.

They returned to the truck where Maureen announced, "I'm hungry. Take me some place nice."

Cal thought it over, thought he could take her to the same restaurant he'd taken Sandy, but decided that wasn't nice enough so he took her to the most expensive place on the north end of town. They were lucky, and though there was a waiting line, they didn't have to sit around too long.

 At the restaurant Cal waited for Maureen to decide. He remembered Sandy's choice had been lobster, and it had nearly wiped him out. Maureen chose a poultry dish, one of the low end entrées. 

He wasn't really surprised. He'd already figured Maureen was the type who wouldn't break the bank.

Dinner went surprisingly fast. Once they started talking almost everything came up. Still, most of the talk was superficial. When Cal asked Maureen about college she was particularly quiet. When he asked her if she had any long term plans she was equally reticent to say very much. Cal thought he'd get to that stuff later.

Maureen enjoyed having dinner with Cal. She knew she would. He was such an interesting conversationalist. She steered him away from some of the more personal stuff he asked about her. She thought she might bring it up some time in the future. She didn't want to say anything that might scare him off. She avoided any comments about sex. He'd get to that on his own time. She could wait. She was also careful not to get into what his long range plans were; partly because she'd already started contemplating what his future was going to look like. She didn't want to find something out that might be contradictory to her aims for him. She didn't ever want him to think she manipulated him away from what he wanted, but she was already making plans. 

After dinner he drove her back to her parents' house. He walked her up to the front and started to kiss her good night. 

Before Cal got to make an exit Maureen asked, "Have you made any plans for tomorrow?"

He responded, "Tomorrow's a work day, and I have a project I'm working on that's almost finished. I'll be done by 4:00. Did you want to do anything?"

Maureen, looking off in the distance, answered, "I want you to take me to the tavern."

Cal blushed. The tavern was the last place he wanted to go. Lately the only memories he had of the place were bad. He said, "We should get the footers in on the gazebo tomorrow, but if you'd rather go to the tavern I can be by around 6:00. What do you think I should wear?"

Maureen answered, "I want to go to the tavern. Wear a new pair of slacks, your new causal shoes, one of the new V-necked shirts I bought, and that spicy cologne you've been wearing. I like that."

He answered, "OK, I'll be by at 6:00, but we've got to get started on your gazebo soon; that is if you still want to surprise your father." He held her hands in his. He leaned over and kissed her, "Till tomorrow night." He skipped down to his truck, whistling and feeling light headed. He got in and left.

 Maureen watched him leave; then went inside.

Her mother was in the kitchen. She asked, "Who was that Maureen?"

Maureen answered, "Sit down mom. I'll tell you."

Maureen's mother was exactly twenty years older, so at forty-three she was still a pretty good looker. Maureen was their only child, and all throughout her growing up years she'd been given just about anything she wanted. Spoiled rotten might have been the phrase for Maureen, if there hadn't been other circumstances.

Maureen was certainly a beautiful young woman, but her life hadn't been exactly all roses and sugar cookies. When she was scarcely four years old she was in the backyard, the very backyard where she and Cal were going to build her dad a gazebo, when a tree branch broke off one of the old maples they'd had. The branch fell on Maureen and the tricycle. It was the damnedest and most disheartening accident. It had broken both Maureen's legs; just barely missing her back. If it had hit her back the doctors had told them she'd never walk again. As it was the broken legs took years to mend properly. It had taken a dozen surgeries, years of therapy and tons of money her parents didn't have. 

Maureen lived with the pain and the lack of mobility for years. The impact on her personality had been profound. She became exceedingly self conscious. Her self-confidence for years had been almost nonexistent, and friends, considering her house bound status, had been few and far between. 

In many ways the accident has served to make her stronger, but in other ways her mother still saw her as something of a cripple. When Maureen had been in high school she'd tried extremely hard to fit in, but her social skills, owing to her long absences, were lacking. Many of the boys and girls her own age were unnecessarily cruel. Their cruelty impacted her in ways her parents had never foreseen. Maureen was pretty, but some of the boys had been vicious. By the time Maureen was a senior in high school her parents had seen she'd just about sworn off on the opposite sex, and for that matter any social life, just about altogether. 




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 02



God had been kind in other ways. Maureen at twenty-three had almost no recollection of her bedridden and then wheelchair bound years. God had wrapped her in a protective blanket; her mom and dad had been glad of it.

They knew their daughter wasn't homosexual, they only knew she was so terribly shy and insecure that boys just stopped being a part of her milieu. Not that it particularly mattered. Maureen could be whatever and whoever she wanted, and they'd love her. She was their little girl. Sexual orientation didn't enter into it.

Her mom recalled there had been a boy in high school, but they discovered he'd dated her only to take advantage of her. Once he'd gotten what he wanted he ditched her and spent most of the rest of their high school years bragging. It had done nothing for Maureen's esteem, but it had caused a gaping chasm in her willingness to accept the attentions of other boys.

Something equally disastrous might have happened in college, though Maureen had never confided to her parents. They only knew one day she was in a sorority and starting to date, and the next she'd dropped out of that college and reenrolled someplace else. She never talked about it, and they never pressed her.

 Maureen walked in and sat at one of the chairs in the kitchen, "Sit down mom I want to talk to you."

Maureen's mom, Andrea, sat down and looked her daughter over. She knew something had to be up. She was wearing the outfit she'd bought months ago, but had been too afraid to put on, "Yes sweetie. What's up?"

Maureen asked, "You and dad have been married a long time haven't you?"

Andrea answered, "All my life it seems. But you know the story. We got married out of high school, and had you almost right away. That makes it about twenty- five years I guess."

Maureen stared at her mom for maybe two minutes, long enough to make her start to worry. Then she asked, "How long was it before you knew it was Dad?"

Andrea understood the question immediately, but decided to play dumb, "Before I knew what about your father?"

Maureen knew her mother was playing her, "Don't kid around. How long before you knew he was the one?"

Her mother asked, "You found someone?"

Maureen was getting impatient, "How long for you and dad? Tell me."

Andrea gave her daughter something of a half smile, "Oh maybe two hours."

"Two hours?"

Her mother responded, "Well I knew exactly what I was looking for. He showed up, and it was a done deal, for me anyway."

Maureen asked, "How long did it take dad to ask you?"

Mom, still playing all her cards, asked, "Ask what?"

Maureen was not happy with her mother, "You know."

Her mother answered, "I don't recall him ever asking me anything."

Maureen asked, "Well how did you two get hooked up?"

Her mother got up, "Why don't we go in the living room?"

Maureen knew that meant her mother was getting into one of her warm moods. That's what she called them. They were times when her mother got extra motherly. Maureen always liked those times. They were occasions when she felt the safest, the most protected. 

The two women walked in the living room and sat beside one another on the big old soft worn sofa. Maureen curled up and rested her head on her mom's shoulder and her big soft breasts. She felt a lot younger all of a sudden. It was OK though, she loved these times, and it seemed lately there were fewer and fewer of them. 

Her mom picked up the conversation from the kitchen, "How did we get hooked up. I think I more or less told him."

Maureen peered around her mother's shoulder, "He didn't argue?"

Her mother responded, "Maureen your father doesn't argue with me."

Maureen knew that wasn't completely true, though she knew her mom made all the really big decisions. Her dad just worked all the time. "What you just bossed him around until he caved in?"

Her mother answered, "No you know that would never have happened. No, I think he just fell in love with me, and that was that."

Maureen was back at square one, "Howe long did that take?"

Her mom answered, "It took me about two hours. I think it took your father maybe a week."

Maureen asked, "And that was that?"

Her mom answered, "That was that."

Maureen sort of looked at the clock and sort of away, "OK."

Maureen's mother watched her daughter's time keeping. Something was definitely going on. She asked, "Do you think you've found someone?"

Maureen squeezed closer and answered, "Yeah I found him." 

Her mom asked, "Does he have a name?"

Maureen answered, "Caleb Burkheim."

Her mother stiffened and flushed white as a ghost, "You mean Jared Burhkeim's youngest son?"

Maureen felt her mother's reaction and wondered what it was, "Yes, I think that's his name."

Maureen's mother didn't say anything.

Maureen asked, "Well what do you think? 

Maureen's mom didn't know exactly what to say to her daughter. There was a lot Maureen didn't know. This was one of those things she needed to talk over with her dad. But there were some things she knew she could say.

Her mother asked, "Was he the reason you got dressed up?"

Maureen answered, "Yes, but mom is there something you're not telling me?"

Maureen's mom answered in a funny way, "I have to talk to your father honey. There's a lot you don't know. But I'll say this; if he's the boy you want. I think you should go get him."

Maureen watched her mother. There were tears rolling down her cheeks. She wondered what had she said that made her mother cry. Was it something about Cal? Was there something wrong?

Maureen asked, "You sure there's nothing about Cal that's wrong?"

Maureen's mom, tears flowing down her cheeks, hands wrapped around her little girl, responded, "No honey; only the best, only the best. You go get that boy." 

 Maureen didn't understand what was wrong with her mother. She knew she was tired. She knew she'd found the man she wanted. She also knew he was a virgin, and about as lame as they came. She got up, kissed her mother good night and went off to bed. Whatever was going on here she'd figure it out. She knew this much. She'd found who she wanted. Now she had to stake her claim. It was going to be interesting, the next few days that is; that she knew for sure.

*

From the author:

OK, maybe this isn't what you wanted, but I know who these people are, where this is going, and you don't. I've given this tale a lot of thought. I think if you hang around, you'll come to love them, that is if you have the patience. I know what I want. If you don't like it just do me two favors. One, don't start writing me smarmy little notes and label them from anonymous. Tell me who you are, and leave an e-mail address. Two, if you really hate the story don't ruin things for people who might like it by giving it a lot of one's on the voting board; that just discourages people from exploring, and I really think this is going someplace. If you want to pan it; do it using e-mail. Otherwise, just drop it and go on. By the way, by now you should know I'm not writing this stuff to titillate. You want that read my very first story, The Gold Digger.



A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 03



Not to trivialize Cal's situation, but It indeed had been the best of times, and it had been the worst of times. All right he'd admitted to a woman the one thing no man ever dared admit. Yes he was a virgin; a twenty-six year old virgin. More than a quarter of a century old, and never once had a woman. How lame can one man get? That was the worst of it.

But there was an up side too. If there was one woman on the planet to whom he had to make that admission to it was Maureen. For some reason telling her was like coming clean, like making it OK. In a kind of up side down way it was a really good thing to be a virgin all of a sudden. Now when he lost his cherry, it would be with Maureen; a girl he really deeply truly loved. When it happened she would be on hand. She'd be the one. He'd be giving himself to the one woman worth giving it to, for whatever it was worth, if it was worth anything, which he doubted. Hell, he doubted if any of it made any sense at all.

For a man to admit he was a virgin was, in a way, to admit to a shame, but for him to admit it to Maureen didn't feel that way. It felt good; it actually felt good. 

Cal worked all through the day thinking of nothing but Maureen. She was his girl; his sweetheart. Hey they were an item. He'd found that special someone. And she'd said she'd found her special someone in him. He believed her too. She'd said it, and she wouldn't lie; she wasn't the type. She was the genuine article.

As the day dragged on, and he finished the project he had been developing he started to fidget about the coming evening. Maureen wanted him to take her back to the tavern. That wasn't going to be easy. What if Sandy was there? What if Sandy had on that necklace he'd bought her? What if that country club crowd was there? 

He kept going over the same things; what if this, what if that, till he was crazy. Later in the day it occurred to him, what if there was nuclear war tonight? Shit, what difference did it make? Don't be a dumb fuck Cal. Control what you can control, and fuck what you can't. 

Here's what he knew he could control. He could make sure he was dressed well enough to please Maureen. If he looked the way she wanted him to look, the evening would be a success no matter what else happened. Then there was the one thing that he could to show up any other guy, or girl, at the bar. He'd stop at a jewelry store; not the one where he got Sandy's necklace. That was a nice place, but it wasn't the best. He'd slip over to the most top of the line jewelry shop in the area. He wouldn't buy Maureen a necklace, he'd get her something that, when he gave it to her, would knock everybody's socks off. He knew what to get too. If wouldn't be a ring, he didn't want to get ahead of himself, but it would be big, real big.

Cal got home, showered, shaved, hit the right spots with the cologne she liked, and checked out the clothes. He combed his hair the way she said she wanted it. 

For some reason Maureen didn't like those golf or polo shirts. He didn't like them either. He just thought they were stupid. Maureen had her own reasons. He knew it didn't matter. If Maureen didn't like them, he wasn't wearing them and that was that. 

He picked out a light blue boat neck shirt, a pair of dark blue straight legged slacks, a pair of black socks and the black casual shoes she said she liked. He was going all out to look good tonight. She wanted him to look good, and he was determined to make her proud of him.









He drove over and picked her up at 6:00 sharp. She said she wanted to go to the tavern, so go to the tavern they would. He didn't want to, but if that's what she wanted, that's what they would do. 

He went up and tapped on the screen door. Her mom answered, "Come on in Cal. Maureen will be right out. For some reason Maureen's bedroom was on the first floor. It didn't make a lot of sense. It was a big house; most of the time the girl's rooms, so he was told, were upstairs. Her mother led him in to the living room and they sat down on an old raggedy looking sofa. 

It was the first time Cal had ventured this far into Maureen's parent's house. He'd seen the outside already. It had that dilapidated look of either long time disuse or neglect. Looking around the living room he saw the clear signs of genteel poverty. Her parents were probably skirting dangerously on the edge of outright destitution, and from the look of things it must have been kind of a permanent condition.

Cal sat back on the sofa. It was old but certainly comfortable. It had to be at least twenty maybe twenty-five years old. It had the look of a home made re-upholstery job, and maybe two or three other minor repairs. He was surprised at how comfortable it still was. He felt right at home on it.

He asked, "Have you lived here very long?"

Andrea, Maureen's mom answered, "This was our first house. We bought it when we first got married. We know it's not much, but we like it."

Cal wanted to be polite, "I like it here. There's a warm homey quality people don't often find."

Andrea smiled, "You mean old and worn quality."

Cal sat up straighter and tried to correct himself, "No I didn't mean that exactly. I mean I think the house has character. This is where Maureen grew up, had her first birthdays, sleep overs, and stuff like that."

Andrea gave him a wan smile, "There weren't many sleep overs, but there were some happy moments."

He didn't push it any further. Anyway, by then he heard Maureen coming out of her bedroom. She stepped out and asked, "Everybody getting along?"

Cal got up, "We were talking about your childhood; the sleep overs you had."

Maureen didn't say anything. She went over and kissed her mom, "You know Cal."

Andrea answered, "We've met before, but I know he doesn't remember."

Cal didn't remember ever meeting Maureen's mom before, but that didn't mean anything. There were a lot of people who'd come in and out of his grandfather's garage when he was growing up. He smiled at Andrea, "I'll get her home at a respectable hour."

Andrea laughed at the joke, "See that you do."

Cal walked Maureen to the screen door and opened it for her. He hooked his hand on her elbow and helped her down the old wooden steps to his truck. As they walked down he commented, "Maybe we could repair the steps after the gazebo."

Maureen looked up at him, "We could do that."

He helped her in the truck, started the engine, slipped it into drive and they pulled away. He'd been checking her out the whole time. She was wearing a black silk blouse. The top buttons were undone; giving him a good shot at her breasts. She'd tied a black ribbon around her neck. Her hair was done up in two tight braids which were tied off and held together in the back by another, wide, black ribbon drawn up in a big bow. He thought it looked not just sexy, but kind of naturally pretty. 

Maureen had on a miniskirt, A-line type he thought, it came down just above her knees. He saw she was wearing black onyx earrings, a brighter shade of red lipstick than usual and much darker mascara. Black nylons and black high heeled shoes finished her off. She looked like she was dressed for the hunt; hunting what he couldn't exactly figure. He knew she looked really good.

He noticed she was wearing glasses, black horn rimmed glasses, "You've got glasses on."

She smiled, "You noticed."

He smiled back, "They look nice. You look smarter in glasses." He backed off what he said a little, "I mean you look smart all the time. It's just the glasses give you a more reflective demeanor."

With a perky grin she replied, "You mean I have a mousy look with glasses on. If you don't like them I'll take them off and put my contacts back in."

He physically as well as verbally retreated, "No I didn't mean that at all. What I meant was..."

She didn't give him a chance to finish. Lightly punching him in the ribs, "I'm teasing silly." 

He put his right arm up and around her shoulder. She had a way about her; she always found a way to say something that made him feel manlier. He pulled her over and kissed her forehead, "You're really special. I don't know what you see in me."

She leaned her head against his chest, in the crook just under his upper arm, "You're my hero." She leaned her head around, took her right hand, pulled his face down and around to hers and kissed him, "You're my hero, and I love you."

He blushed.









They got to the tavern a few minutes later. He got out, walked around, opened her door and handed her down from the truck. They walked, arm in arm, into the tavern. 

As they walked in Maureen made a mental note how every time he always helped her in and out of the truck. Not many men did that.

As they entered the tavern they saw it was pretty full. Warren and his girl Annie were at the bar. Not far down, still at the bar was Sandy with her little crew of sycophants. 

Warren saw them come in and called out, "Hey Cal. Come on over."

Cal looked at Maureen, and gave her a questioning nod. She answered, "Good place to start."

Cal didn't immediately catch what she meant, but as they went toward Warren he caught on as Sandy and several of her friends started to drift over too.

It wasn't long before a moderate little crowd, perhaps eight or nine additional people had gathered around Cal and Maureen. It was an interesting little assemblage; working types like he and Warren, plus some of the more yuppy country club group.

Sandy was dressed in what he'd begun to recognize as her usual simpering, post college, semi-childish uniform. She had on a mini-dress jumper, hair in pig tails with pink ribbons, white knee high stockings, and pink tennis shoes. It was kind of a pseudo Paris Hilton look. A few days ago he would have liked it, but now he saw things differently.

Conversation drifted in and out between sports, automobiles, politics, and the weather, but eventually, as it often did, it started to focus on Cal. This was when the people in attendance started leaning toward the soft jabs and gentle jokes about his attire, his behavior, and his overall clumsiness. It took them a little longer on this night; Maureen had dressed him. Still the barbs did eventually start to fly.

One guy hit it off, "Hey Cal, you going to give Maureen another lesson in pool?"

There was some soft laughter, followed by some more silly banter about who was the best player.

Another guy hit him on his hair. One gave him a light verbal tap about his shoes; how new and probably uncomfortable they looked. 

Still another asked if his mother was dressing him. That didn't fly so well. The commenter probably didn't know Cal's mother had been dead since he was in the second grade.

The callous mother commenter didn't want to let that go. He remarked, "What she's making change at the counter at the Wal-Mart?

Cal didn't say anything. Warren, his best friend, fielded it, "Cal's mother was a nurse. She got killed in a car crash when he was seven."

The smart talker dropped the subject

By then it had become open season on Cal. This was pretty normal and he never let it bother him before, and didn't bother him now. He did notice Maureen wasn't laughing very much.

Maureen noticed something he didn't. Though everyone teased Cal; they all liked him. He was always the center of attention. Wherever he went he brightened up the room. He didn't know it, but he was actually very popular. 

She reflected on the first night she'd laid eyes on him; the night she'd beat him at pool. It hadn't been Warren or any one of a dozen other guys she'd been drawn to. It had been Cal. 

Everyone noticed Cal.She got back to the immediate conversation. She kept listening. 

There were a couple inanities about dancing, Maureen's martial arts skills, the carnival, and his new boat, which by then everybody had heard about. Cal laughed it all off.

One guy started to cross the line, "Hey Cal; see the necklace Sandy has on?"

He looked over. She was wearing the necklace he'd bought her. She was fiddling with it with her fingers like it was some trophy or something. He looked at the guy who'd made the comment. Cal recognized the malice.

Cal smiled at Sandy, "I'm glad you like it." He turned a little and started fumbling around in his hip pocket, "That reminds me I have something here."

Maureen had noticed the bulge in his pocket, but hadn't thought much about it.

Cal reached in his pants and pulled out a small box; a jewelry box. It wasn't wrapped so everyone could clearly see the name of the merchant on top; only the most prestigious jewelry store in town, "I got this for you." He handed it to Maureen.

The place was silent; dead silent. Cal had bought Maureen a present.

One of the girls said, "Open it Maureen. Let's see what it is."

The smart guy said, "I bet it's a piece of chalk for a cue stick."

Cal ignored the fool's remark. He told Maureen, "Go ahead. Open it."

Cal had really caught Maureen off guard. This was totally unexpected. She felt foolish. She would never admit it in front of all these people, but, excepting for her father, no one had ever given her a piece of jewelry before. She opened the box.

The reaction around the tavern ranged from groans to the usual oohs and ahs. It was a magnificent diamond tennis bracelet. It was so thick with diamonds it was vulgar.

Maureen's sigh was audible. She was both audibly and visibly moved. Looking up sheepishly, "Oh Cal, you shouldn't have."

"Do you like it," he asked?

She held it in the palm of her hand, almost afraid to hold it too tightly, "Cal" she said again looking at him through those big, now watery, emerald eyes, "Oh, it's beautiful."

All the other girls were crowding around. Even Sandy looked at it with awe and admiration. Some made remarks, most just stared at in shocked disbelief.

One said, "I saw this the other day when I was in the store." She looked at Maureen, "Do you have any idea how expensive this is?"

Maureen just stared at it. She felt how heavy it was. She couldn't believe all the diamonds on it, "Cal you have to take it back."

He reached out and closed the palm of her hand and pushed it toward her, "Not a chance. This was made for you."

She half hiccupped, half wept, the sound someone makes when they are about to cry but manage to hold it in, "No I can't take this."

Cal kept his hand on her now closed palm, "No Maureen, you deserve this." Then he said something even he didn't expect, "This is for my lady fair." He felt stupid as soon as he said it. He had no idea where the remark came from. It was totally out of character.

Maureen pushed her hand back toward Cal, "Would you put it on me?"

He said nothing, but he got down on one knee, took her hand and the bracelet. He opened the latch, placed it around her wrist, closed it on, and latched it shut. Staying on one knee he held both her hands momentarily, then blushed and foolishly got back up.

Maureen blushed too. In fact she started acting downright silly. She just sort of stood there and, not exactly giggling, not exactly crying, but just acting oddly. Finally she recovered, "Thank you Cal. This is nice, really nice." 

At that moment, from out of the back of the group, the smart guy made another surly remark. Cal didn't quite get it, but he definitely heard the word gimp.

He turned around, "What did you say?"

The smart guy wasn't intimidated. Cal never intimidated anybody, "I said gimp."

Cal didn't know what he meant. In fact what happened next happened so fast nobody really got what the smart guy said. What everybody did note was the blur, the loud reverberating smash, and the rapidity with which the smart guy hit the floor. Cal's fist had connected with the smart guy's nose and put him on the floor.

On his way down, the back of his head smacked against the bar. It was almost instantaneous; one second he was running his mouth, the next he was on his butt holding his nose.

He started crying and whining, "You broke my nose! You broke my nose."

His nose was broken too. It was flat against his face, and blood was gushing from his nostrils all over his shirt. The crimson fluid was splattering all over everything. 

While he tried to stanch the flow with his hand, one of the barmaids reach over and handed him a cloth. 

The incident sparked a reaction from one of the smart guy's friends. The friend was a cool four inches taller than Cal and he looked like a body builder. He pushed to the front and faced Cal, "You want to try that with me?"

Cal didn't budge. He looked the newer, bigger, guy in the eye, "You got something to say about Maureen?"

The bigger guy seemed to wilt a little. He wanted to avenge his friend, but he didn't want to say something bad about a girl he hardly knew, "You think you can take me?"

Cal got droll, which was even more out of character for him, but so far everything he'd done that night was out of character, "No, but I bet I could hurt you."

The bigger guy seemed to wince a little at that thought.

Cal caught the wince. He thought he had his man. This guy was a toughie, but he also was very vane. He'd beat somebody up without blinking an eye, but there was some dog in there too. This guy was a rough one; he could fight, but he didn't like getting hurt. Cal played on the guy's fears, "Yeah, you'd win, but I'll break something."

The guy's toughness was decaying right in front of Cal and everybody. He resorted to bravado, "You want to fight me, step outside."

By then Maureen had her arm on Cal's arm. She knew the big guy, and knew him to be a dirty fighter. She didn't want her new found love getting stomped all up over her. She was afraid for Cal, but she thought it demeaned her too in a way, "Forget it Cal. It's an old nickname."

Cal ignored her. He kept his eye on the new threat. Cal knew he was a lot smarter than the big guy. He was pretty sure he could talk him down, "You know you're bigger, certainly stronger, probably faster, and you absolutely have a longer each. If we stepped out side you'd surely win. You want that?" 

Cal had a head of steam up, and he thought he had the guy figured out, "You'd win for sure. Then what? Then what? Why everybody would say yeah, the bigger stronger, faster guy with the longer reach beat up the one guy everybody in the bar could probably take. Yeah the big guy beat up the weakest guy in the tavern. Wow!"

Cal got up in his face, "But what if I got lucky? What if, by some chance I got in one good punch? Say that one punch put you on the ground. Then what would they say. They'd say the bigger, stronger, faster guy got whipped by the little guy. You want to take that chance."

The big guy answered, "You're lucky. You're just lucky tonight. I'm going to let you go."

Cal had him, he knew it was over. It was time to let the big guy off the hook. He replied, "Well thanks, thanks for not beating me up."

The big guy looked around the tavern, "Well yeah." He shook his fist in the air, "How about it?"

Some of the younger men in the crowd cheered. The older men didn't; they knew what had just happened.

The crisis had passed, a point had been made, Maureen was Caleb Burkheim's girl, and nobody better mess with Cal's girl. Still Maureen wasn't happy. In her opinion she didn't want people fighting over her. She kept it to herself for the time being. She'd straighten Cal out later.

Cal noticed everyone was eying him differently. Sandy was eying him differently. Sandy was eying a large diamond tennis bracelet too.

One of the girls got everyone back on the bracelet. Someone said, "Where do you suppose he got the money.

Cal turned around, "You haven't heard? I'm rich. No I mean it. I really am. I have a lot of money. I've been working." He didn't mean to be boastful, but he wanted more approval from Maureen. He smiled at her; then he winked, "Yeah, some lucky girl came into a fortune."




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 03



Maureen wasn't sure what to say or do. She was pissed that Cal had hit the smart aleck. She didn't like the bravado regarding the bigger guy, but she sure liked the idea her boyfriend was suddenly gleaning all this respect.

She grabbed his arm, "You've had enough big boy. It's time to go."

As Maureen walked Cal out of the tavern she heard a smattering of applause. She looked back. It was the older women who tended bar. They were all smiling and just generally cheering. It made her feel good.









They got back in the truck. Cal, of course, doing all his gentlemanly things.

Maureen looked up at him, "What am I going to do with you?"

He pulled her over and planted a generous kiss on her bright red lips, "You're going to make love to me." Gee, he thought, that was a pretty brave thing to say.

She laughed heartily, "I'm not working tomorrow. How about you?"

He pulled her as close as he could get her. He snuggled her head under his chin, "The Holiday Inn downtown?"

She squeezed her left arm back behind and around his waist. She pressed her head tightly against his chest. Then she got very serious. In a moment of true profundity she whispered, "Whither thou goest."

He choked up slightly. Ruth in the Bible had said that. Among all the women in the Old Testament he admired Ruth the most. He hit the accelerator and sped out of the parking lot.

Cal and Maureen sped down the road; hugging, kissing, and even dong a little furtive fondling. Cal was on his way to get his cherry busted. What could be better than to lose his virginity to the woman he loved?

As they turned the corner heading for the Interstate that would take them to Valhalla Cal heard a peculiar sound. He recognized it immediately; it was the sound of an old transmission about to breathe its last breath.

Cal was many things. He was good, honest, kind, and he was sensitive. He was the kind of man who cherished and cared for things long after their days of utility were truly past. As they trundled down the long stretch of back road his old friend, his old faithful truck of sixteen years was expiring under him. 

Another few hundred yards and it ended; his truck passed on to that great car lot in the sky, and with it the great plan to get laid. They pulled over to the side of the road. Cal popped out his cell phone and called Triple A. They'd be there in about two hours; so ended the big trip to the Holiday Inn.

He sat there like the fool he was, "Well the truck died."

Maureen kissed his cheek, "There will be other nights."

They curled up and swaddled under a blanket waiting for Triple A. So tonight wasn't the big night, that was OK, they still had the truck cab, a nice blanket, and lots of time.

Maureen was disappointed but relieved too. Cal was a virgin, but she didn't know anything either. She thought later tonight she'd have a talk with her mom. She'd get some advice, maybe some pointers. Her mom was cool, it would be all right. 

The two of them cuddled and kissed under the blanket, and for the first time Cal took a little initiative on something. He took his left hand and started softly rubbing Maureen's right breast over her blouse. Almost immediately he could sense a positive reaction, as she pressed her chest up and out toward his hand and fingers. Rubbing over the smooth silkiness of the blouse he could feel her nipples sticking up.

The top buttons were already undone. Cal tremulously went ahead and started undoing the other buttons. One at a time he worked his way down to her waist. Using his left hand he reached under her blouse and felt her breasts over her bra. 

This was too real he thought. Carefully he reached around and found the clasp of her bra. Maureen helped him by leaning forward. Deftly he managed to unhook the clasp, and the bra fell away. 

Gone was the hesitancy; he enthusiastically fondled and fingered her breasts. They were large, firm, and incredibly warm to the touch. 

He had to do it. He spread her blouse as wide it would go and pressed his head in between those two luscious orbs. He tried to smother himself in the valley between her two scrumptious mountains. Failing to do that he first kissed then licked, and finally started to suck on each rosy nipple. 

Maureen was totally absorbed in Cal's fantasy. She'd always liked touching her breasts while bathing or when dressing, but having someone else do it was rapturous. His hands were hot and dry, and his mouth and lips were delightful the way they both tickled and caressed her flesh. 

Using her hands she pulled Cal's head in between her two pendulous boobs. She wrapped the blanket around his head and her chest to keep things as warm as possible. She used her fingers to comb through his now well combed hair. She kissed his ear with her lips. She took her hands and pulled his head in as tightly against her chest as she could. She imagined she was suffocating him between her boobies. 

Cal kept kissing and teasing her breasts with his tongue and lips, but he shifted his hands outside the blanket to her head where he used his fingers to match her massaging with his own. He heard her sigh.

The two young people were so deeply engrossed with each other they never heard the big repair truck pull up. Suddenly there was an insistent wrap on the passenger's side window, "Triple A!"

Cal pulled back. Keeping Maureen fully wrapped under the blanket he climbed out and walked around, "My transmission died. Could you give us a tow to my grandfather's station?"

The Triple A man asked, "Where's that?"

Cal responded, "Jared Auto Shop."

The man grinned, "Sure. I know where that is. He went to work hitching the dead pick up to the hoist that would pull it atop the flatbed.

Cal opened the door, "You OK Maureen?"

She grinned, "Yeah, I'm good."

He helped her out.

The Triple A man got the pick up on the repair truck, called in to his station, and offered Cal and Maureen a ride in the front of his vehicle.

Together, squeezed in the front of the big repair truck; driver behind the wheel, Cal riding shot gun, and Maureen in the middle they all rode to Cal's grandfather's garage.







At the garage Cal signed off on the Triple A form, and temporarily leaving Maureen to stand on the front lawn, he went and knocked on the front door of his grandfather's house.

It wasn't late, only a little past 11:00, but his grandfather was seventy-five and accustomed to an early start on each day. Cal had to get him out of bed.

Jared came down, saw who it was, and let the two of them in. Looking the girl over he immediately recognized who she was. He glanced at Cal and realized his grandson didn't have a clue as to the girl's real identity, "Who's this, he asked his grandson?

Cal answered, "This is Maureen, my girlfriend."

Jared kept his thoughts to himself, "Glad to meet you. Come on in. Anybody want some coffee?"

Maureen answered, "You don't have to do that."

Jared replied, "I want to."

They all sat around in the smallish kitchen and quietly waited while the coffee brewed. Once it was ready grandfather poured them all a cup.

He sat down and looked at Maureen, "You're Andrea's girl aren't you?"

Maureen was surprised, "Yes, do you know my mother?"

He answered, "Yes, we used to be good friends, but to tell the truth I haven't seen her in years. You were a little girl the last time I saw her. You'd gone away."

Maureen listened intently but offered no information herself.

The older man asked, "You remember when you went away?"

She could answer that, "Not really. I was only four years old."

The older man glanced at Cal. He could tell his grandson still was out of it. He decided to leave it that way. He smiled at his grandson, "You better get this girl home."

Cal asked, "Could I borrow your car grandpa?"

Jared tossed the key across the table, "Try to get it back by the morning."









Cal thanked his grandfather, took the keys, finished his coffee, and helped Maureen down the narrow steps to the backyard and his grandfather's car.

As he got her in the car he heard his grandfather yell out something about being careful with that girl, she's kind of delicate. Cal thought Maureen was sweet and sensitive, but delicate wasn't exactly the kind of word he expected from his grandfather. It didn't mean anything to him.









After Cal pulled away Jared Burkheim made a phone call the Maureen's mother, "Hello is this Andrea?"

Andrea responded, "Yes it is, who is this?"

He answered, "This is Jared Burkheim. You remember me?"

On the other end of the line Maureen's mother gave out a tiny gasp, "Yes I remember you."

Jared heard the inhalation. He'd felt the same way a few moments earlier, "I was wondering, if you didn't mind, I might drive down and see you tomorrow."

Andrea hadn't seen Jared Burkheim in over twenty years, "Why sure. You remember where we live?"

He answered her question with a question, "You still live at the same place?"

She answered, "Yes."

"See you tomorrow."

Before he could hang up she interjected, "I think the children will both be here tomorrow too."

He replied, "That won't matter." He hung up the phone.

Walking back upstairs to bed Jared thought about the young man and the young woman who'd just left. He thought about his long dead daughter, he thought about the woman he'd just talked to, and he thought about her husband. It had been a long time, yes it had certainly been a long time. He never expected to see any of them ever again.









Cal got Maureen home. They sat outside in his grandfather's car and kissed a little more. The time for heavy petting had passed, by then it was more about staying awake. He walked her to the door, and at the portal he kissed her goodnight.

As he turned to leave he looked back and said, "You know Maureen, I feel like I've been here before."

She laughed, "Well sure silly you've been here several times." She leaned against the screen door and watched him leave.

Getting in his grandfather's car said to himself, "I didn't mean it exactly that way." Oh well, he was just tired. He drove on home. He'd find a way to get his grandfather's car back to him tomorrow afternoon, after he'd worked on the gazebo. His grandfather had a jeep and a pick up of his own; it wasn't like he was leaving him high and dry. 







Once Cal was out of sight Maureen went inside and found her mother. She was in the living room watching some old talk show, "Mom you got a minute?"

Andrea looked up, "Sure."

Maureen went over and sat on the sofa, "I was wondering if we could have a girl talk."

Andrea loved that kind of thing, "Sure, what's on your mind?"

"You've got to promise to keep this a secret."

"Of course," was her mother's reply.

Maureen started by talking about herself, "Mom I'm twenty-four and I've only fooled around twice in my life, and neither one of those times were what I'd call particularly fulfilling."

Her mom asked, "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really, but I guess a little background wouldn't hurt. First, there was a time in high school; I was a sophomore and the boy, you remember Freddie, he was a junior. I was sort of confused, and he was smooth. Well he got me. I didn't like it, and refused to do it again. He got even by spreading it all around that I was some kind of promiscuous whore. It sort of ruined high school I guess."

Andrea interjected, "Your dad and I remember."

Maureen went on, "No big deal. I got over it. The second time I was in college, a freshman. Somebody put something in my drink, and I ended up on my back in one of the bedrooms at a fraternity house."

Her mom commented "You father and I knew something had happened."

Maureen added, "Yeah, that's why I changed schools. Decided men were toxic, and couldn't be trusted."

Her mom asked, "How do you feel now?"

Maureen said, "Well until a few days ago I still believed that. Then I met Cal. I don't know something clicked. He's so helpless, and he's so forthright. Noble I guess, and I felt like I have this special connection. I can't explain it."

"You want me to help?"

Maureen laid it on the table, "Cal's never been with a woman. He's a virgin, at least he said he was, and I believe him." 

Andrea interrupted, "That's a pretty old line honey."

Maureen quipped back, "Yeah that's what I thought for maybe two seconds, but it's true. He really is a virgin. Not only that he's about as backward as they come. He's amazing. There's no one like him."

"You want to make love," that wasn't a question, just a comment from her mother.

"I do, and he does too, but mom, we're both pretty new at this. I was wondering..."

Her mother interrupted, "Your father and I were awfully young. I think your father had a little experience, but not much. You want to know, not what to do, but how to proceed."

Maureen answered, "Yes, I guess so."

Her mother suggested, "Do it here, in your bedroom. I'll go out one night, and that will leave the house empty. You bring him home, and just do it here." 

Maureen had started to say something, but her mother held up her hand and stopped her, "its safe here, no threats, no special scenery, there won't be any expectations. He'll feel more comfortable, and so will you. The only advice other than that I can give is to ask him to go slow and be gentle, though from what I've seen I don't think there will be a problem in that area."

Maureen gave her mother a hug, "How about tomorrow night?"

Her mom answered, "Sounds good." Then she added, "Is there anything else about Cal?"

Maureen was surprised by the question, "Like what?"

Her mom answered, "Oh nothing."

Maureen asked, "You know something I don't?"

Andrea changed the subject, "You two are starting the gazebo for your father tomorrow?"

Maureen answered, "Yeah."

Her mom added, "Cal's grandfather's stopping over tomorrow."

Maureen's curiosity, maybe some suspicions, were piqued, "Why's he coming over."

Her mom answered, "We're old friends. He just wants to talk, get reacquainted that's all."





Maureen kissed her mom goodnight and ambled on back to her bedroom, got undressed and slid under the covers. Though she was tired she didn't go right to sleep. There were some things on her mind, new things. Why would Cal's grandfather be coming over? Did they know something? What if Cal's grandfather had done something with her mom? Was Cal her brother or something? No that was crazy. 

Maureen tossed and turned. She just kept asking her self stupid questions and trying to put things together. She'd been hurt really bad when she was a baby. They'd sent her away someplace. She remembered the doctors and the nurses. She was gone for a long time; didn't come home till she was in the third grade. She had to use crutches all the time. She didn't remember much before that. It was like a lot of her life had been erased, and she couldn't get it back. 

Finally she drifted off to sleep, but she kept dreaming. She woke up a couple times crying. She kept dreaming about a little girl being bent and twisted around, and how much things hurt. She'd had those dreams before, and her mother had always consoled her that it had been the therapy. 

There were other dreams that night. She didn't believe in reincarnation or anything like that, but it was about a princess, and dragons, and this prince. She just couldn't figure it out. It was a troubled sleep she had that night.









Cal went home and jumped in the sack. He couldn't get to sleep either. He remembered things about that house, Maureen's house. He'd been there before. That fucking sofa. He'd been there before. The damned old rotted porch. This week wasn't the first time he'd been on it. He finally drifted off to sleep, but he dreamed a lot that night too. He woke up a couple times. That was unusual. What was wrong with him? 







The next morning Cal got to Maureen's early. She was already up. Andrea was up too, and thought both the kids looked tired. She wondered how much work would get done.

The young people went outside and started measuring off the area. Cal got a shovel and started prodding the ground. The soil was rocky, and he didn't see any reason why he should to try to break through a ton of rock just to pour a few bags of concrete.

Cal talked it over with Maureen and explained what he planned to do. He'd dig out the footers with a post hole digger, and fill the holes in all the way to the surface with concrete. He'd use a special metal cleat on the bottom of each four by four. That way, he explained, no wood would be underground, and the bottom of each vertical four by four would also be off the ground. 

Cal measured off where he wanted to put the footers. He had the holes figured out pretty good. It was a great location. If they got the holes dug and concrete poured today, they could come back in two days and start framing the thing up. With luck it would be done in seven or eight days, barring rain. 

He wanted to pour a sidewalk from the porch to the gazebo, and saw there were already fragments of an old sidewalk emanating from the porch. He used the old sidewalk as his first reference. He measured out and locked in on where he thought the first footer should go. He took a long crow bar, a six footer, and started plunging it into the soil. 

Right away he had a problem. He'd hit rock. He took a shovel and dug around a little to see how bad it was. To his surprise he didn't find a rock. He'd found an old footer. There had been something out here before; maybe a shed or something. He dug the old footer out and showed it to Maureen; their first labor saving break! 

He measured off for the next footer, plunged down with the crow bar and to his surprise, he found yet another footer. This was unusual, since it was not in a place he'd expect if there had been an old shed there. Still two footers were better than none.

He measured off the next distance, started digging, and to his surprise he found a third concrete footer. This was amazing! He stopped digging, and re-measured where he expected all the footers to be. He should have done that after the second footer discovery anyway. Everywhere he measured he dug, every where he dug he found another concrete footer.

Maureen and he looked at what they'd found. All the footers he needed were all already there. Not only had there been another building there, but it looked like the other building had been a gazebo, just what they were building, and to the same proportions!

It was an amazing coincidence.









Cal told Maureen, "Honey I'm not trying to back out of anything, but I'm dead dog tired. I just couldn't get to sleep last night. Now we have these old footers, that will make us two days ahead. What do you say we knock it off till tomorrow morning?"

Maureen was tired too, "I didn't sleep last night either. Let's just veg out the rest of the day."

Cal smiled. She was a life saver.

Maureen added, "What do you say if you spent the night here. My mom's going out, and she'll be gone all night. You can sleep over here; then you won't have to drive all the way home and back. I'll fix breakfast for us tomorrow."

Cal looked at Maureen. He started thinking. Her mother won't be home, how nice, "You're smart. I'll get some things later. We can watch an old movie, and get a good night's sleep for a busy day tomorrow."

They hugged. Both knew more was going to happen that night than a good sleep and an old movie.











Around 11:00 Cal's grandfather, Jared, got to Maureen's. He saw his grandson and the young woman walking around. It looked like they'd found the footers to the old gazebo. He wondered if they knew what they were doing. 

He walked over, "How's the new skyscraper coming along?"




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 03



Cal looked up and laughed, "You mean the gazebo."

"Yeah, how's the gazebo coming?"

Cal pulled Maureen along and they stood beside his grandfather, "It's the damnedest thing. There are already footers here from where somebody else had either built or tried to build a gazebo before."

Jared gave the ground a thoughtful eye, "That ought to make your job a lot easier."

Cal replied, "Yeah sure, but it is a little confusing. We're building on the same site where an older one was. What happened to the old one?"

Jared looked at his grandson. The boy was always inquisitive, and imaginative. The older man scratched his head, "This is an old house. It probably goes back to the Nineteenth Century. It wouldn't be that unlikely for something as transient as a gazebo to have been here once before and been torn down. 

Cal nodded. His grandfather was smart.

The older man looked at Maureen, "You grew up here. Do you remember anything?"

Maureen answered, "I did grow up here, but I don't remember much, and I don't remember anything from when I was really little."

Jared asked, "Did you ask your mother?"

Maureen answered, "No."

Jared responded, "I'm going in to say hello. I'll ask her."









Cal watched as Jared went up on the porch, knocked; apparently someone heard him, because he went in the house.









Jared got in the kitchen and found Andrea sitting at the table having a coffee.

She said, "Let me get you a coffee."

He nodded and sat down. He started to talk, "Neither one of them remembers the gazebo."

Andrea answered, "I didn't think they would. What does your grandson remember?"

Jared gave her a puzzled look, "I don't think he remembers anything."

Andrea continued to talk, "I recall your daughter's accident and her death. I remember we went to her funeral. What, he was in the second grade at the time?"

Jared responded, "Second grade, the spring of his second year in school. Almost no one went to the funeral. She had a few friends, a couple doctors, you and your husband, that was about it."

Andrea added, "People were pretty hard hearted then."

Jared nodded, "Nobody said anything to the boy who got her pregnant, just her. Hell, she was only fifteen. You would have thought someone would have let up. All anybody wanted was for her to put the baby up for adoption. I'm glad she agreed with me and kept him."

Jared got up and peaked out the window, "He's grown into a fine young man, a little shy maybe, but a good man."

Andrea walked over and looked out at the two young people, "I'm glad aren't you?"

Jared turned a little and looked at her. He didn't quite know what she meant.

Andrea added. "I mean they've found each other again."

Jared, "They don't remember. Neither one; I thought maybe your girl might have?"

Andrea poured some more coffee. "She was only four went she had her accident, when the limb from the old maple broke off and hit her and her tricycle, mangling both her legs. I remember it like it was yesterday, but she doesn't remember anything. God's been kind that way."

Jared commented, "She was a pathetic little thing."

Andrea, Maureen's mom continued, "It happened at the end of March. It was so windy; the limb broke off and crushed her little legs. It should have killed her. The doctors were convinced she never walk again, even if she did live."

Jared smiled wanly, "I remember. It was tough for you and your husband."

Andrea continued, "We didn't have any money, no insurance, the operations were going to break us. But she's our only child, you know how it is. 

Jared nodded, "Yeah, I know."

Andrea went on, "We were sorry no one in town wanted to hire your girl; what a young girl, fresh out of nursing school with an illegitimate six year old herself. It was like everybody wanted to punish her for keeping her baby."

Jared, "I remember. But I hated that they were punishing him too. You know there are no illegitimate children, only illegitimate parents. But people didn't see it that way. I was glad she could help out with your girl. She needed the practice; I wasn't making enough money to hire a full time babysitter, so when you agreed to let her bring her boy here while she took care of your girl it all worked out."

Andrea spoke wistfully, "He was six, a lonely little boy ostracized by the kids where you all lived, and she was only four, all crippled and nearly dead. People around here kept their kids away because they didn't want or couldn't answer the questions their kids asked. She was sick, suffering and alone. Your little grandson showed up and gave her a reason to live." 

She looked up at Jared, "Your grandson saved my daughter's life." She was starting to cry as she looked back outside where the young people were talking, "They're out there and don't even know. They don't know any of it."

She looked back at the old man. "What should we do?"

The old man was wiping his eyes, "Leave them alone. They found each other. If it's important enough they'll remember. If it isn't they've still found each other."

Andrea wiped her eyes, "I want to tell them."

Jared touched her shoulder. He wasn't the touchy feely type, but he touched her, "What would you say; how a little boy came with his mother to nurse a little girl who was probably dying, how the little girl didn't die, how after more than six months a charity took up her cause, carted her off to a hospital, took her away from her only friend."

He stepped over to the screen door, "We, his mother and I, more or less told him she'd died. We told him angels had come for her. It nearly killed him. As it was it broke his heart.

He looked at Andrea again, "Your daughter was his only companion for six months. You remember they'd created their own little fantasy world, what with dragons and heroes, and princesses. His mother decided he shouldn't say goodbye. She was afraid it would be too much on him. You remember how they were."

Andrea listened and commented, "I remember. I remember the little boy sitting on the sofa while therapists pulled and hauled on her broken little legs. I remember how he sat there and listened to her screams and crying. I remember the fantasies they created; how they played and prince and princess, him the prince who fought off the dragons, the therapists being the dragons, and how she'd cling to him like he was her last connection with life. I remember it, I remember it all; every baby tear, every reassuring word that came out of that little boy's mouth."

Andrea added, "When the hospital people came we didn't say anything either, for basically the same reason. We were afraid, afraid the separation was going to be bad enough, why add to it with all those emotional goodbyes."

Jared, "Do you think we made a mistake breaking them apart like that?"

Andrea frowned, "Come on they were little, only six and four, she forget, he forgot, who would have believed they'd reconnect twenty years later."

Jared, still staring out the window, "They did though didn't they? Look at them out there now. I wouldn't know how to tell them."

Andrea, "You're right. We won't tell them. If they remember, then OK, but we can't tell them." 







Later that afternoon Jared left to go back to his garage. Andrea got dressed up, packed a small shopping bag full of clothes and left for the evening. As she left she kissed her daughter on the forehead, "You two be good tonight. I'll be back sometime after lunch tomorrow."

Maureen, arm already around Cal, "Don't worry mom."

Cal added, "Don't worry, we'll be good."

Andrea got in her car and drove off. She'd booked a room at the local Motel 6. She was comfortable leaving those two alone together. This was a relationship made in heaven. She was also comfortable with her one little act of sabotage. She and her husband didn't have many pictures of their daughter when she was a toddler, but they had a few, maybe ten. She'd left them on her bedside table in a small envelope. If they opened the envelope they'd see them. Maybe the pictures would spur something. If they didn't open the envelope, well that was OK too.

She'd stay away for the night. She'd get back tomorrow. Maybe she'd find out something then.



A note from the author:

I hope you're enjoying this story about Maureen and Cal. It originated with a request from one of my daughters that I write her a fairy tale. When I'm done with the adult version, I'll put my daughter's version on if you like.



A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 04



Imagine a little girl, a precocious happy pretty little girl, in her very own backyard on her very own tricycle pedaling around and around on the gravel driveway where her daddy parks his car. It's late March and the wind is howling. It's that time of year, one of the waning days of another cold dark winter, and 'the old man' wasn't quite ready to surrender his icy grip to the warm embrace of spring.

The little girl, a raven haired emerald eyed beauty has on her heavy wool coat, knit mittens, and tight fitting little cloth hat, earflaps protect her from the brisk chill that whips across the yard. Her powerful child's legs are pumping the pedals for all they're worth. There's nothing like a new tricycle on a gravel path, on a blustery day, on one of the last days of winter.

Faster and faster she goes, around and around on the driveway. Tiny hands hold the handle bars. Occasionally, she pretends to warn oncoming traffic of her approach, just like her daddy does in the big car with his big horn. She reaches to the right and squeezes the tricycle's wee traffic bell. Look out other tricycles; driver coming through!

Overhead the heavy low old hanging branches of an aged maple waved their ponderous arms carelessly in the frigid late afternoon air. When summer comes those broad limbs will be covered with protective leaves that will shield the little maiden from the harmful rays of the hot summer sun, but as yet no leaves have grown to provide that caring shelter. The old maple is still somnolent, sound asleep; waiting for spring's ripening time. It's still March, still winter.

Then a particularly powerful gust of wind muscles its way across the yard. The low hanging limbs of the old maple groan; bend and, curl in response, but this time one of its aged old branches fails to return to its natural habitué. The old limb, partly rotted with age, riddled with insect detritus, cracks, breaks, and falls.

The little black haired cherub below barely hears the threateningly powerful burst of the breaking limb. Down it comes in a swift and deadly arc; down it sweeps, crashing fiercely in response to the wind, its age, and gravity, down it crashes on the innocent cyclist below.

The limb, by all normal standards would be considered small, manageable, but for a tiny child of scarcely twenty pounds, it is a behemoth, a leviathan. The pulpy colossus swings down and lands with a powerful crump on innocent legs, vulnerable thighs, unprotected knees. The cherub lets out a terrifying scream; first in surprise and fright, but soon in horrifying agonizing pain. Her little legs have been crushed under the awesome power of nature's unforgiving fists.

Her mother hears the crash, then the pitiful screams. She dashes to the door. Aghast she sees her hearts desire, her splendid reason for being, splayed pathetically under the merciless limb. She screams in terror, and runs to her only child; her single precious claim to the future.

She rushes to the scene of holocaust. Unable to remove the formidable object from her helpless child she flees inside and calls 911. The difference between her angel's life and the brutal claim of a portion of cold sodden late winter earth is rooted in the time it takes for the paramedics to arrive.

With speed the medical personnel arrive. The offending limb is cut away. The hapless lass is bundled into a waiting ambulance and hurriedly trundled off to the nearest hospital.

For days her fragile life hangs in the balance; by a single slender thread her soul dangles above the maelstrom. The shock, the pain, the trauma, the horrendous injury all take their toll, but the energies and dedication of noble doctors, tireless paramedics, and compassionate nurses draw the lamb back from the abyss.



What's left is the pathetic remnant of a once vibrant vivacious little human being. Doctors are brought in, specialists consulted, tests, medications, surgeries, and therapies are recommended. The bills mount.

For two young parents with no insurance, no savings, and few prospects the task ahead is daunting. Their little girl, their single claim to immortality, has become a wasted piece of human debris. More than a few doctors and nurses glance downcast at the delicate, misshapen little angel. They shake their heads in despair. Her chances are thin, the future grim. She'll need constant, around the clock care, medicines, and therapy, and money, lots of money.

There is no money, resources, all resources are gone. Dad takes two jobs. Mom has to find work, but if mom's out of the house struggling to find the revenue to cover the exorbitant costs of pain and recuperative medications there'll be no one home to provide the care their little darling desperately needs.





Across town, twenty miles away, another man's daughter, another little girl has run afoul of a bad crowd. She's learned the lessons of bad company, and earned the reputation that follows. Pregnant and alone except for her widower father she faces the hard choice of putting her baby up for adoption; selling her tiny boy to strangers to escape the approbation of a hard hearted condemnatory community. Or the alternative, the more arduous choice of keeping her little creation and raising and loving him herself, a choice perhaps more daunting than giving him up.

With her father's support she chooses to keep the precious little life she created. She keeps her baby.

But her decision drives her to distraction; unforgiving neighbors, high minded clergy, hypocritical teachers, and gossipy peers ostracize the young mother. She drops out of school to raise her baby. Still she clings to hope. She earns her GED, attends community college and obtains a nurses license, but no one will hire an ill-famed woman, a girl with the reputation of harlot.

Her only recourse is to move away or find someone willing to take an inexperienced ill starred young nurse. 

The destitute young family with the crippled little girl is informed of the needy young caregiver. A compact is made, an arrangement reached. The little girl will receive a nurse's care, but the young nurse must be allowed to provide simultaneous care for her own, by then, six year old boy.

The nurse, the impoverished parents, the crippled little girl, and one singular preschool boy are all flung together. For better or for worse their planets have aligned.

For six months, from April though November, the young nurse provides the care. The overwhelmed parents provide a dingy downstairs bedroom and what money is left after the bills are either paid or renegotiated with a soulless bank. 

And the little boy; the little boy is himself a lonely isolate. He appraises the piteous little fledgling, and assumes the role of guardian, hero, partner, fanciful protector, and restorative angel.

For six months, all through spring, summer, and into the fall the little boy shares his time, his life, his regenerative vigor, and his imagination with a fragile angel always on the edge of eternity. The tiny raven haired cherub gives the lonely little outcast a reason to face each sunrise. He learns to care, to protect, to deflect, and offer hope. The little girl gives him purpose.

For the sweet broken little girl the boy is a gift from God, her reward for innocence and perfection. He gives her a reason to live. He becomes her beacon, her light, her incentive to carry on. With his support, his nurture, his vision she retains the will to bear the unbearable, endure the unendurable. Through him she acquires strength, resolve, resiliency. 

Together, with nothing but their imaginations and a few discarded pieces of cardboard, string, and a handful of mislaid Popsicle sticks they carve out a fantasy world all their own. She becomes his lady fair, his princess, his Maid Maureen, someone to be adored and greatly loved. She is the good fairy who must be guarded and protected from the evils that surround her; the grotesque trolls disguised as sympathetic therapists and the fiendish gnomes pretending to be caring doctors. 

For her he becomes prince charming, her noble hero; her protecting knight, the courageous Cal, the champion who gives her hope, the determination to persevere, to go on.

They live in a frail little world of make believe. It is bounded by an old bed, a cluttered kitchen, a dirty sofa, a gravelly drive, and a rickety old gazebo. The gazebo becomes her castle, its rails her walls, the gravel drive its protective moat. Throughout the summer she sits in a wheelchair while her Arthur, her Lancelot, fends off dragons, demons, and reality. They cling tenaciously to their make believe empire, their pretend kingdom. Through their belief in their dreams and that innocent child's love they have for each other they are able to defy the grim realities of each pain filled day. 





One day new doctors come, this time with an ambulance. A charity has taken up the little girl's cause. She is to be taken away, far away to a hospital that specializes in the incurable and the impossible.

The little girl is uprooted from her painful but protected cocoon. One day while young Cal is away at school she is separated from her child guardian, her hero still too young to be called even a youth. She cries, she pleads, she begs, but her soul, her savior must never see her again.

With time, through pain, years of repeated surgeries and countless hours of therapy the little girl forgets the tragedy of the falling maple, she forgets her magical kingdom, and she forgets her brave undersized hero. She grows, she fights, and she survives, but the misery, the suffering, and the love she experienced is all lost, blanketed in forgetfulness.



Then what became of the little boy; that stalwart little soldier, the proud and brave little knight who'd battled all the forces of evil for his ebon haired green eyed fairy queen? He was told the angels had come for his maiden, that God had summoned her home. He cried, he ranted, he railed against that God who had stolen his darling away. But she was gone; gone from his life forever. 

In time he forgot too. He forgot the long spring, summer, and fall when he was the hero, the knight, stalwart defender of the helpless and weak. Like the little girl, he grew up.





Who could have dreamed that years later, twenty years in fact, that same little boy, now a young man, would have a best friend badger and cajole him into going to a tavern to meet some insipid girl; a trite, superfluous piece of tinsel. Yet that simpering insincere young woman brought a friend, another young woman, a young raven haired emerald eyed beauty; a sweet precious darling with a long forgotten past, a deeply guarded secret history of pain, of suffering, and of loss.



After twenty years and an eternity of confusion; two lost children who were just twenty miles distant for so many years, stand on a rickety old porch and wave as the young woman's mother drives away to take a promised short vacation. Both young man and young woman are oblivious of their common past; yet they stand on that old porch, hard against an old gravel drive, above the abandoned footers of a long discarded raggedy old gazebo, just outside a downstairs bedroom that had once been the scene of so many shared horrors and miseries. 



There they stand. See them now. They're waving at Maureen's mother while surrounded by the artifacts of their long forgotten child's fantasy civilization. What happens next? What does the future have in store for the young maiden and her one time prince? 

The couple were standing on the old porch, Cal had his arm around Maureen's shoulders, "We've got the footers." He looked at the sky. It was late, but not so late they couldn't squeeze something in.

He smiled down at Maureen, "How would you like to go out in the boat for a little while?"

She rested her head on his chest. She took one hand and wiped his cheek affectionately, "OK."

Neither changed clothes; they walked down and jumped in Cal's grandfather's truck. It wasn't far to get to Cal's to get the boat. They hooked it up, and sped on down to the put in. The water looked calm, serene, under an azure sky.

Cal had the boat in the water in no time, and soon they were gliding down the river. Cal was desperate to show Maureen the old cemetery; the same one he'd shown Sandy. He wanted to show her the graves before Sandy or any of her friends let it get back to Maureen that Sandy had already seen it. No way was Sandy going to 'one up' Maureen on anything; no sir no 'show ups' for Sandy.

Maureen sat in the rear of the boat with Cal while he steered it down the channel. She let her left hand rest idly on his thigh. She was enjoying the late afternoon August sun, the crisp spray as it splashed up on her face and arms. She took delight in the warmth and comfort that came from just being with Cal; besides she had a hunch where he was taking her.

Sure enough they got down to the quiet sandy strip near the secret cemetery. He drove the boat up on the sand, jumped out, pulled it up further, reached in and handed Maureen out of the boat.

He'd been in a hurry and forgotten a blanket, "I'm glad we're able to do this. I just wished I'd remembered a blanket."

Maureen accepted his outstretched arm, clambered out of the boat, and pressed herself against him, "That's OK, blanket's not important, I just like being with you."

Her comments always made him feel bigger and taller than he really was, "I like being with you," he said.

He hesitated then added, "I know it's only been a few days, but I can't fathom what it was like before there was you. Does that make any sense?"

Maureen, arm around his waist, gave him a tight little squeeze, "Not at all. I feel like I've known you all my life."

Cal didn't say anything; he leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

Maureen had to break the moment, "Tell me, have we ever met before?"

He blew the comment off and pulled on her hand, "Come on. I want to show you something."

Maureen knew what it was. She answered, "Sure." 

Together they walked along the narrow sandy path. They were careful to avoid the sharp spikes of the razor grass. He led her to the end of the path up to the four graves. He pointed, "Look! There!"

Though partially obscured by grass and sand she saw them right away. She left his side and walked up; leaning down when she got close enough she wiped away some of the sand and muck that covered the inscriptions. Though they were worn and weathered she could still make out the words, "They're quite old. Looks like two parents and two children." 

Cal got up behind her and squatted in the sand, "Yeah, that's what it looks like to me."

Maureen read and re-read the dates on the stones. She read the brief commentary on each one, "It's sad isn't it. It's obvious by the dates, both children predeceased their parents."

Though Maureen couldn't see him he nodded, and then added, "I thought that too."

Maureen spun around slightly allowing her butt to rest on the soft sand, "You come here very much?"

Cal was still staring at the graves, "Not often, sometimes when I want to get away I come here. I wonder who they were, what they talked about, maybe what they wanted. I mean what the children might have wanted, and what their parents might have wanted too."

Maureen had been watching him. He looked pensive, maybe sad, "Your mother and father are dead aren't they?"

Cal didn't take his gaze off the graves, "My father's not dead. He lives in town. Has a nice house, a wife and family." He stopped talking.

She asked, "Your mother? What about her?"

Cal looked at Maureen, "My mom's dead; died when I was in the second grade."

Maureen looked back at the graves, "Do you remember much about your mother? When your father and mother divorced?"

Before Cal could answer she added, "Don't say anything if you don't want to. I don't mean to pry. Please don't take it in the wrong way."

He touched her arm, "You're not. I just remember she was young. I thought she was beautiful. She was a nurse you know."

Maureen fumbled around a little to be turned facing him better, "I didn't know."

"I think my mom had kind of a hard life. I was illegitimate you know. The man who got her pregnant comes from a pretty rich family. People in town sort of blamed my mom for me; they made it harder for her."

Maureen watched his expression grow increasingly sad as he talked, "My mom once told me there's no such thing as an illegitimate child. God made us all with something in mind."

Cal was watching her talk, but she wasn't sure he was listening.

She added, "I never went to church much, but I read the Bible a lot when I was little, sort of had to I guess. I kind of wasn't supposed to grow up, I've kept it up since I've gotten older."

He gave her a thoughtful, then a bemused look, "Has it done any good? Reading the Bible?"

Maureen continued, "I think God makes each of us with a purpose in mind. There's a reason we're here. He puts us here, and we're supposed to find out what that purpose is; then we try to live up to it."

Cal didn't feel that way, "I believe in God Maureen, but I don't think he cares what happens to us. He just made us so he'd have something to do. Like he build a set of trains, and now he just watches them go round and round."

Maureen took his hand and put it in hers, "Oh no you're wrong. That clockmaker stuff is all just bullshit."

Cal didn't interrupt Maureen, but he thought it was the first time he'd heard her cuss. 

She continued, "God made us because he loves us. I mean God is perfect, he doesn't need to do anything, but we sort of complete him. Then again, we have free will, and we live in a world where things can just happen, like for no apparent reason."

Cal took his hand out of Maureen's. He looked skyward, "I'd like to believe there's a God up there. I mean, you know, one who cares whether we live or die."

"No," Maureen corrected, "It's not whether we live or die, we all die sometime, it's how we live, what we do with what we've been given, and how we handle the things that happen to us."

Cal felt a little put off, a little crusty at what Maureen was saying. It didn't fit into a lot of what he'd convinced himself to believe, "Then why does God make bad things happen to good people? My mom was good, but people were mean, then she was killed, killed by a drunk driver."

Maureen could see he was having some problems with what she was saying. She wasn't sure what to say. She wasn't even sure of her own faith sometimes. She did know that out there, out there somewhere was all this love, enough love for everyone, "I know God doesn't plan good or bad things. He can't make people be nice. He doesn't prevent bad things from happening, but he offers us choices. And I believe, I really truly believe, he gives us things when we need them. We just might not see them when they're there."

Cal wasn't mad at Maureen, but the things she was saying were making him angry. He didn't mean to lash out, "Oh yeah. Give me one example in your life when God intervened. I mean when he gave you something when you needed it." 

Maureen grabbed his hand back and squeezed it real hard, "You're here now aren't you?"

"What like I saved your life or something?"

Maureen felt a little hurt. He didn't understand, and she wasn't good at explaining this stuff, "I don't know exactly. You might have. I was alone; then you showed up."

He interrupted, "Like you needed to beat somebody at pool?"

She wasn't going to quit on this or on him, "The first time I saw you in the tavern. It was like I looked in your eyes and saw you. Really saw you, who you are, who you were." 

She could tell she had his attention now, and thought things were getting too heavy. She giggled, "I mean there you were, standing there, all stupid, gullible, and needy." She reached up and squeezed his cheek, "I could tell right away you needed somebody. You needed somebody to tell you what to do. You needed a shepherd, and I guess I needed a sheep."




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 04



Cal didn't feel like being called a sheep, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings, besides he liked it when she bossed him around, she didn't do it much, but she was good at it, "OK, so you've got a sheep."

Maureen was a little frustrated with Cal, "I didn't mean it quite like that. I meant, well, never mind."

By then Cal had passed through his 'let's argue' phase. He didn't like disagreeing with her; he much preferred waiting on her, "Once when I was in high school and I still had mad spells about my mom, how people treated her and all. My grandfather sat me down with a deck of cards. He took one card out and gave me the rest. I remember he said, 'you're playing with a short deck.' I didn't get it till he handed me the card he'd taken out. It was the queen of hearts. I remember him saying, you find her, you'll be all right.'"

Cal looked at Maureen, "He's a smart old bird."

Maureen responded, "I like him." She also especially liked the idea it had been the queen of hearts.

Cal looked down at her. She was a lot lower because she was on her butt. He was a lot bigger and taller anyway, and that made him feel good, not superior good, protective good. He looked at her and said, "Baa baa."

Maureen teased, "OK, we've seen the cemetery, now what?"

Cal made a face, "Oh, you're so insensitive."

She punched him in the stomach, "Come on, I'm hungry."

He made as if to get up, but she wouldn't let him. She said, "Well! OK, where's my chicken?"

He looked at her a little confused.

She was still teasing, "You made Sandy chicken."

He laughed, Maureen must have known about the Sandy trip to the cemetery all along, He said, "And she didn't like it. Come on I'm taking you to the Olive Garden. I want some lasagna."

Maureen let Cal help her up, as she stood she said, "Cool."

As he led her back to the boat Cal started to think about what Maureen had said. What if there was some purpose to his life? What if there was something bigger he was supposed to do? If there was he'd better get on it. Heck, he was already twenty-six. Then he chuckled to himself.

Maureen heard him, "What was that?"

He answered, "You said God put each of us here for a purpose. I figured out what mine is."

She didn't know if he was kidding or was serious, "Really, what?"

He laughed, "I'm supposed to build you a gazebo." 

She laughed then too, "It better be good; cause God and I are sharing notes, and I'm taking names."

They got back in the boat. He helped her in, got the thing back in the water, and chugged back to the put in.







They got back to the put in quickly; he and she got the boat back on the trailer, they went first to his house to pick up some clothes, then back to Maureen's to get ready for dinner. They were both dead on their feet, but the Olive Graden was the next thing on the agenda, and that was that.

Maureen sat comfortably beside Cal in his grandfather's truck. Already it had been a long day. As they drove back and forth from house to house she thought about the coming evening. She didn't mind that they were going out. It would be OK even if they were too tired later to take advantage of the empty house. They could still cuddle and kiss. Of course, she was looking forward to sex in an offhand way, but sex had never been a central part of her life. She almost never touched herself down there, not that way. Maybe once in a while, but as a rule she thought it was silly and just a little bit wrong, not that it didn't feel good sometimes.

Cal was thinking too. If he'd known what Maureen was thinking about regarding the sex he would have agreed. He wanted it to be right, perfect. By right his idea was relaxed, slow, and pain free. He'd read where a girl's first time wasn't always pleasant. True Maureen wasn't a virgin, but it would be her first time with him, and his first time altogether. He didn't care if he had fun, but he wanted things perfect for her. He wanted her to think about their first time together and have only the most wonderful thoughts and memories. If that meant waiting a day or two, that was OK; this was something that shouldn't be rushed.

He thought about the 'purpose thing' too. Maybe he wasn't going to be the next Bill Gates or Steven Hawking, but he wasn't Clyde Barrow either, at least he didn't think so. Maybe his purpose was to take care of the girl riding beside him. Sure she could pretend to be the shepherd if she wanted to, but he'd be the real protector. He already had a kind of embryonic plan in his mind; they'd get married, make kids together, and be a family. 

He'd seen other kids growing up who had to eat dinner with their parents and brothers and sisters. He recalled when he was little sitting in other people's living rooms while they all ate together. He remembered fathers asking questions like; what did you do in school today, do you have any homework, don't forget we're going to grandma's tomorrow. He'd almost joined the Boy Scouts once; but they had a father and son dinner. He went, but ate alone. He quit right after that.

He remembered reading a survey where they asked people what was the most rewarding thing they ever did; the winner, hands down, was raising kids. He wanted to do that. He thought, with Maureen that could be a pretty good thing. 

He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she sat beside him in the truck. She was so pretty, she was so nice, and so much fun to be with. She was going to make some beautiful babies with someone; that someone he hoped was him.

He remembered that hackneyed old saying, 'for every man there's one woman, and for every woman one man.' He looked at Maureen again. He believed that.

He kept these things to himself. He knew he needed to marry her, but she still might change her mind. He didn't think so; it would break his heart is she did, but she'd said it, 'you can't make people do what you want them to do.' Still, he was twenty-six and she was twenty-four, they were both the right age for it.

Maureen had noticed the sideways looks, she looked up, "Penny for your thoughts."

He grinned, "You have the most beautiful green eyes."

Maureen ignored the comment. She turned her head. She was blushing.







They got back to Maureen's parents. She used the downstairs bathroom and her bedroom to get ready. She made Cal go upstairs; by 6:00 they both up to speed.

Cal had on a pair of dark pleated slacks, the black casual shoes she liked so much, black socks, and a blue button down shirt. Maureen thought he looked very masculine, and told him so.

Maureen was wearing a white button up blouse with a peter pan collar she'd kept opened at the top. She'd picked out a light green pleated mini skirt, dark green stockings, dark brown high heels, and a matching light green V-necked pull over sweater. He thought she looked especially feminine, and he told her too.

Since it was Tuesday night they didn't expect the Olive Garden to be too crowded. They were wrong, but the wait didn't turn out as bad as it could have been.

They were seated in a booth. The people in the next booth were a little loud, and kept talking politics. Maureen could tell by their rants and raves they were not only on the stupid side, but they were deliberately trying to get everybody to hear them. Cal wasn't the political type, at least he hadn't evinced any opinions to Maureen, but he resented the noise. He told Maureen people ought to keep their voices at a lower octave when in public.        

Maureen agreed citing that people didn't go out to eat in order to hear everybody else spout their feelings. She told Cal she used the word feelings when referring to the big mouths behind them, since a feeling required no thought, no facts, and no intelligence. She deliberately said these things loud enough so they could hear. They did, but it didn't seem to matter.

Cal and Maureen both ordered lasagna, a glass of red wine, and the house salad. The waitress was a pretty girl, maybe nineteen or twenty. Maureen told Cal she thought the girl was flirting, but Cal said he thought she was just being nice. Maureen disagreed. Cal said she was jealous. Maureen told him to shut up. He shut up, but he still laughed about it. Maureen didn't laugh.

Their food came and it went down smoothly. They avoided conversation while they ate. Maureen didn't talk because she was hungry. Cal kept quiet because he was afraid he might talk with food in his mouth, or he might inadvertently spit. Both were considered bad manners, and he wanted her to be proud of him.

They each got a coffee when they finished their meals; then they started to talk. To Cal it seemed like coffee had become the official time for gabbing. 

He started off. He'd been thinking about the 'not making people do what you want' thing. He said, "Summer's almost over."

Maureen answered, "Yeah, pretty close."

He asked, maybe pushing a little bit, "You going back to that college and that karate school after Labor Day?"

She didn't look up, but she was glad he'd brought that subject up. She played it close to the vest, "Probably, why shouldn't I?"

Cal hemmed and hawed a little. He fiddled with his napkin, dropping it on the floor and picking it back up. Then he got out what he wanted to say, "I thought maybe you'd hang around a little while." 

Maureen was coy. "Why," she asked?

He stirred his coffee, pretended to drink some. He added a packet of sugar, something he never normally did. He tried to be casual, but it wasn't coming out that way, "I don't know. I just thought. I thought that..."

She interrupted, "Thought what?" She acted and tried to sound incredulous, "You thought I'd hang around here with you?"

That had hurt. He pretended to drink some more of his coffee. He wondered if he was wrong about her after all. He tried to pick it up, "I thought..."

She interrupted again, "You thought what? You thought maybe I'd hang around just to be with you? You thought I might stay because I loved you. You thought I might hang around and we'd stay together. Is that what you thought?"

To Cal those were exactly the things he thought, but she sounded like those were the last things she'd considered. He started to say something, "Well yes. I thought..."

She dropped him again, "I know you. You thought I'd stay, we might move in together, and maybe worse, like get married."

He listened. She sure had him right. He tried to explain, "No I meant. No, yes, I thought. I mean I thought, well yeah, maybe we could get married or something."

Maureen smiled. She'd done it again. Geez, he was slow, "You asking me to marry you?"

He answered, "Yes, I guess I am."

It was like they were playing pool. It was time to close for the kill, "You guess! Guess you might want me to marry you? Well do you or don't you?"

Cal watched her facial expressions, and listened more carefully to the tonal inflections in her speech. Yeah, she was playing with him again, "Maureen will you marry me?"

She sat back on her side of the booth, "No. I can't marry a virgin." She'd said it loud enough so other people nearby might hear. She said it loud deliberately.

He didn't care. He could care less what people heard or thought. He turned up the volume as loud as he could without actually yelling, "Maureen will you deflower me? Please?" 

She laughed and kicked him under the table, "I guess I'll have to now."

It was his turn, "Have to what. Marry me or deflower me?"

She sat up. He'd gotten her, "Yes I'll marry you Cal, and yes we'll sleep together too."

He looked around at the young waitress who'd been standing by listening to everything, "Check please."

The waitress handed him the check. He helped Maureen up, picked up the bill, left a hefty gratuity, and escorted Maureen out of the restaurant.

Maureen told him, "You didn't have to leave that much you know."

Cal answered, "Yes I did."

She asked, "Really? Why?"

"I want her to remember the night she heard a man ask a woman to help him lose his cherry."

Maureen hugged him as they stepped on the street, 

"You're a rascal, a real rascal."

He smiled.







They got in the truck, but Maureen wasn't quite ready to go home yet. She insisted they stop at the mall. She had to make a few purchases. He waited in the truck while she went inside. She was gone about thirty minutes, and came out with two shopping bags.

He asked, "What did you get?"

She answered, "Just some stuff."

He asked, "What kind of stuff?"

She replied, "Cleaning stuff."

He said, "OK."









They went on back to Maureen's parents. Both were tired, but both understood, tired or not, something important had to happen that night.

Maureen got Cal to go upstairs to do any tidying he needed to do. She said she wanted to straighten her bedroom before she invited him in. He agreed.

She got in her room and opened the first shopping bag. She'd bought satin sheets and pillow cases. She stripped the bed and redid it. The satin felt slippery.

She noticed her mother had left an odd looking envelope on her bed stand. She slipped it in the drawer.

Maureen went to her bathroom. She redid her make up; adding a little more eye shadow, a tad more lip gloss, and a smidgen more mascara.

She took a comb and brushed out her hair. Maureen believed one of her best features was her hair, and she wanted it to look especially good. She combed and re-combed it till it glistened and was shaped the way she wanted; long, loose, and wavy, filtering lustrously around her face and down on her shoulders. Then for effect she added a black silk ribbon to each side; not tied in bows, just tied and twined in her hair. She thought they looked cool, as in cosmopolitan.

She checked her finger and toe nails. They were all set with clear nail polish.

She went to the second shopping bag, and pulled out the negligee she'd bought. It wasn't very long; coming just below the line of her vaginal area in front and butt cheeks in the back. It was black, made of silk with a plunging neckline, capped shoulders, a tight bodice with a broad black strip of satin that held her waist in a tight cinch. 

The gown, really a teddy, gave the appearance of buttoning up the back. Where the broad satin cincher wrapped in the back she attached a large black matching satin bow. The bow was huge, incredibly black and shimmery; she thought it was terribly sexy. 

The neckline, the hem, and the shoulders were all set out with tiny ruffles that she thought added to it's femininity in profound ways. To add to the imaginative character of the outfit she tied a thin black piece of silk around her neck, but didn't loop it in a bow. She let it hang suggestively; one end down her left clavicle, the other over her should blade. She thought about tying another piece of silk to her left wrist but changed her mind. That might be over doing it.

The outfit came with a pair of reasonably loosely fitting panties. The center front of the panties was transparent, but the areas around her hips and rear were all black silk. A fairly large black bow was affixed to the very front at the waist, and in the back, just above the top of the crease of her rear was a similar bow. Both the waist and the hem of the panties were cut out in the same small ruffles.

She slipped on a pair of stockings that came all the way to the top of her thighs, and finished them with a pair of black high heeled shoes. The tops of the stockings were cut out in lace, and the front of each shoe had a shiny black bow.

She checked the nylons carefully. Cal had never seen her legs when they weren't at least partially covered with something. She did that to keep her awful scars well concealed. She didn't think it would matter, but she didn't want anything to spoil this, their first evening.

She stood up and looked her self over in the mirror. She was trying to be as sexy as she could. She thought she looked pretty good. She wanted to look especially hot, but not cheap. She believed her black hair, the black teddy, nylons and shoes would stand out starkly against the white satin sheets. 

One last look in the mirror, one last splashy gargle, a final tiny spurt of perfume; she checked her pussy by looking through the transparent center piece of the panties. It didn't look right. Her vaginal area wasn't right. She'd trimmed it earlier, but now she realized the hair got in the way of the overall effect. She pulled down her panties, got out the razor and cream, and shaved away all the last residual hair. She wiped it off thoroughly with a balm, and pulled her panties back up. There she thought, maybe it was wanton, but the pink clarity of her vagina showed through the transparent material with a sexual insistence, a physical clarity that couldn't be denied. 

She justified the nudity of her pubis by telling herself it was for Cal only. Nobody would ever know; nobody else would ever see it.

Finally fully satisfied that she was the best she'd ever looked. She left her bathroom, went over to the side of the bed, and sat down. She called out, "Cal you can come in now."

There wasn't any answer.

She called again, "Cal, I'm ready."

Still no answer.

One last insistent time, "Cal!"

Nothing; only dead silence. She got up and went in the living room. Cal was lying on the sofa, fast asleep. He looked good in a pair of white boxers, and a light blue T-shirt; every bit the man.

Damn, thought Maureen. She went over and picked up the television remote, sat down and gently lifted his head so that it rested in her lap. She felt his warm breath on her denuded mons. She turned on the television and found an old Johnny Depp movie She looked at Johnny Depp on the screen; then down at Cal. She had no idea who Johnny Depp was married to, but she bet if his wife saw Cal tonight she'd be jealous. 

She started watching Sleepy Hollow. Cal's face was pressing against her pussy, making her feel damp. She tried desperately stay focused on the movie. Remote in one hand, Cal's head on her lap, her other hand holding his chin to keep him from getting any deeper in her puss, she slowly drifted off to sleep.



A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 05



Maureen had tried to stay awake. She wanted to consummate this relationship. She wanted to possess this man. She loved this awkward, lanky, boat building, chicken frying, nose punching young man. She thought about the punch in the nose for a second. That was quite a surprise. Nobody saw that coming. Yeah, Cal had become all she thought about, or cared about. He'd become her obsession.

Just exactly when she knew he was the right one; the one for her, she couldn't say. It had to have been that first night. He certainly stood out that first night at the tavern; he stood out in ways she couldn't explain. She'd dated other men; most of whom she quickly found either so boring and stupid as to be unworthy of comment, or so self consumed and hedonistic as to be just, just, well nauseating. 

She sat there on the old sofa and castigated herself. She was hardly someone to criticize others; she was just as self-absorbed, boring, and narcissistic as her disappointing friend Sandy, but at least, she prided herself on knowing it, as if being proud of one's faults was a good thing.

She looked down at the man asleep snuggling his nose through her silk panties into her vulva. What was it about Cal that turned her head? Right away that night at the tavern she knew she could read him like a book. He certainly was stupid, but not stupid in the ways most men she'd met were. Most men were ready at the drop of a hat to argue about which team had the best quarterback, or who was the best jump shooter; like any of that really mattered. Those same men, so keen on sports and hyped about making money couldn't name five American documents, name five presidents, let alone the five best, or even identify the author of anything as simple as The Scarlett Letter. Maureen bet Cal knew that stuff, or if he didn't he'd come close. 

Cal was stupid about people; he was socially immature. He trusted everybody, believed everyone was honest, was too quick to ignore the bad and go for the good. He wore his sincerity like it was a bull's eye. Maybe that was why, though he didn't see it, so many people liked him, and so few seemed to want to take advantage of him. 

Cal should have been really mad at her and Sandy, but he'd blown it off. Heck, he'd not only forgiven her, he'd fallen in love with her. Then there was Sandy, well Sandy deserved to be disliked, even hated, but Cal hadn't said anything derogatory about her even after he realized how badly she'd misled him. The only complaint he'd had about Sandy was that she hadn't liked his chicken. 

Come to think of it she hadn't heard Cal say anything bad about anyone. She knew he'd been angry about the way people treated his mother, but he never mentioned anybody by name. Even now she didn't know who his biological father was. He'd mentioned what he done, but never said anything else. 

Cripes thought Maureen, what if her dad was his dad? They'd be brother and sister! No her dad wasn't the type, and besides he'd said his biological was a rich man who lived in town and had a big family. Her dad didn't live in town, certainly wasn't rich, though he should have been, and his family was only her and her mom. 

Maureen yawned. She'd seen the movie on the television a half dozens times, and she was physically exhausted. She looked down at the man asleep in her lap again. What had Donna Reed said to Jimmy Stewart in that old flick It's A Wonderful Life; something like 'I love you, whatever his characters name was, and I'll love you for the rest of my life.' 

Maureen wondered, 'Could a girl fall in love with a boy at a young age and love him for the rest of her life?' That was a heavy thought. She couldn't manage it, not tonight. She fell asleep.

Sometime later, in the wee hours of the morning, maybe 4:00 a.m., Cal tried to roll over and found the way blocked. He opened one eye, then another. His head was in Maureen's lap, and he could tell she was out like a light

Speaking of lights, the table lamp at the far end of the sofa was on. It was dim and gave everything a nice kind of yellowish glow. There must have been another light on in Maureen's room, because he could see the radiance emanating from that direction. He wondered why Maureen's bedroom was on the first floor. It had occurred to him most girl's bedrooms were upstairs, as far away from the outside doors as possible. It didn't make much sense.

He lifted his head a little further. He could smell her fragrance. He wondered what it was. Whatever it was he loved it. He couldn't tell; perhaps jasmine, lilac maybe? He wasn't much of a connoisseur, he only knew he liked the way she smelled.

He was fully awake and better able to scope her out. She'd done her hair up in ribbons, black ones that matched her hair. Her hair was really wavy and thick. He loved that hair. He wished, if he could, to just sit down one day and comb it, comb it all day for her, put it up in braids like she'd had the other night; run his fingers through it, pull it up to his nose and smell it.

She was sound asleep, but hardly making a sound. She didn't snore. He didn't know, but he couldn't imagine a woman who snored. He snored; at least his grandfather said he did. Shit, if she wanted to snore he wouldn't care; any sound she made would be good, though he was still glad she wasn't snoring.

Her face was all made up; dark lashes, ruby lips, exotic looking eye liner. It was like looking at a more beautiful, prettier, Mona Lisa.

He scouted out what she was wearing. The nightgown felt soft, like silk. It was silk. He could see her boobs. God they looked succulent. He wondered if that was an appropriate way to describe them. He knew they sure looked luscious, gorgeous: positively, absolutely edible. 

He watched and listened to her slow shallow rhythmic breathing. Should he wake her up? If he awakened her they'd surely have sex. But if he woke her up now, she might not get back to sleep, then they'd lose a whole day on the gazebo.

He watched her breathing some more. He rolled so he was facing her stomach, her flat stomach. Stretching slightly he caught sight of her navel; an innie, but he knew that. Anybody this perfect had to have an innie. It didn't matter though, of she'd had an outie he'd love it just as much. Anything she had was perfect.

He took his right hand, and leaning forward, he used his index finger and rubbed very gently over her lips.

She wriggled her nose and licked her lips with her tongue.

He waited a second; then rubbed her again. She shook her head slightly, puckered and un-puckered a couple times. He could tell she was almost awake.

He sat up, resting his left hand between her thighs, his right hand on the back of the sofa, and kissed her.

She opened her eyes and smiled.

"Good morning beautiful," he said.

She answered, "Good morning handsome."

He swung around and sat so that he was right beside her. He kept his hands in his lap, but leaned around a little bit and kissed her lips.

She let her hands rest in her lap too, but kissed him just the same.

He whispered, "I love your hair, the way it flows around your beautiful face."

He took his left hand and curled it around and through the hair on her right side. He leaned forward a little more and kissed both her eyes, "You have the most beautiful green eyes, and I love the way you've made them up. You're so perfect." 

Maureen liked it when he complimented her; she especially liked it at that moment since she'd put in so much effort to get her hair and make up right. His gentle remarks and tender kisses make her feel goose pimply. 

He watched her blush. He felt good that he could do that to her. He wanted her to feel like she was as special as he knew she was, but he also wanted her to feel a little self conscious too. With his right hand he took a frond of her hair and twirled it around in his fingers; it was soft, thick, and shimmery.

He kissed her again, "This is a beautiful outfit. It looks like it was made for you." He used his left hand to rub softly down her right arm to her waist where he let it rest.

She asked, "Do you want to go to bed?"

He did, but answered, "No let's stay here a while."

She wanted to go to bed, but she was just as pleased to stay where they were. What would happen in the bedroom would happen in the bedroom, but what was happening out here was making her incredibly happy.

Together they sat there; side by side, kissing and whispering nonsense. It went on for a long time; her lips tasted so good, her hair was so soft, her skin so warm and smooth. She was just so damn delicate, soft, cuddly, and warm. He could see her skin getting pinker. It made her look even more fragile. He felt like he wanted to wrap her up in his lap and just squeeze and kiss the shit out of her. It was like she needed to be stripped completely naked, wrapped in a soft blanket, nestled all up in is arms, and just fondled all over, forever.

Cal probably would have stayed there all morning, but his body was giving him other orders. The more he kissed her, massaged her arms and breasts the more uncomfortable he became. He knew Maureen could see it.

For a long time Maureen was perfectly content to accept his kisses and caresses. He made her feel wanted, cherished, special, but she could see the changes he was experiencing, and with each kiss and caress she was feeling warmer and wetter. Her body was sending signals to her just like Cal's was to him. She knew something was going to have to happen.

She took her left hand and rested it on the inside of his upper thigh. She didn't try to touch him anywhere else, she kept returning him kiss for kiss, endearment for endearment, but she knew the affect she was having on him. It pleased her that she could do this to him. 

Cal reached down and placed his left hand on her thigh. He felt her squirm as she moved her leg closer. She was as excited as he was. He liked it. 

He stopped kissing her beautiful lips and started paying attention to her breasts. He and they had become old friends in the truck the other night. This morning they were fully alert, at attention, and ready for anything. He could see her nipples pushing insistently against the silken fabric. He liked the feel of the material over her breasts. He liked rubbing her nipples over the silk, seeing and feeling their response underneath.

He put a little added pressure on the V-necked front of her gown, and watched as her breasts struggled to break free. They burst out, and he dove in to feast on their rich fullness. They were hot, dry, and brilliantly pink. Her aureoles were darker, and they looked moist like they seemed to glisten; they appeared to look larger than normal. He was sure this was an optical illusion, but he delighted in it. Her nipples were pressing up and out. They were magnificent little pinnacles atop two luscious alpine peaks. Only these peaks were hot not icy cold. 

He took his left hand, opening it; he used his palm to softly rub around and around her right breast. He rubbed in ever decreasing circles, closing in on that bright pink aureole. He heard her sighs and watched her deep breathing. He allowed his palm to softly sweep over her nipple. Her intake of air, and her subsequent sigh was like a symphony of love and passion.

Her sighs drew his mouth back to hers. He knew a sigh like that need recognition. He puckered up as full as he could. She puckered her lips too. Their lips melted into each other like a mountain of hot wet steaming flesh. 

She wrapped her arms around his head, and pulled him as close as she could. She liked the feel of his face against her breasts. She felt more sensitive all over, and the pressure of his cheeks and mouth against her chest made her want to endear herself to him. She imagined it was as though two things were happening; she was giving herself away, but claiming ownership of him at the same time.

He responded by pulling her closer at the waist; gently but firmly pressing against her stomach and abdomen.

He knew then he needed to find her other lips, her nether lips, her woman's crevasse. For the first time in his life, and what he didn't know the first time for her, he lowered himself to where he faced her pubis. He got down off the sofa and spread the top of her teddy away from her abdomen, that V shaped valley just above where her flesh arched downward to her vagina. He pulled her panties down, and gazed upon her most scared place, that most holy of holies. 

He pulled and wrestled her down so that she was lying prone on her back on the sofa with him beside her kneeling on the floor. He looked closely at her woman's form; those mysterious places below her waist.

Her vagina was stripped of all its hair, totally clean and clear, like a child's. It was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life. He read where people had said a woman's mons was the most beautiful part of their body; now he knew it was true. Her's was clear, clean, and pink in its purity. He took his finger and traced it from the top where he believed her clitoris was, down that closed ridge line that was where her labial lips pressed together. He traced all the way to the bottom where they seemed to open slightly into a narrow gorge. What a magnificently beautiful spectacle, a perfect vaginal seam, her sheath, the place he would soon enter. He hoped and prayed when he entered her that he was gentle; true to his goal of only giving her pleasure and happiness.

He could see the moisture that had been building and had begun to seep from her interior cavity. He saw the perfect arc of her woman's lips from her clitoris to its end near where her rectum began. He glimpsed her tiny anus, those delicate creases. He knew he'd need to kiss that too. Someday he vowed he would enter that cavern as well, maybe this morning with a finger, just a single finger.

Right then he kissed her along the crease between those delectable fleshy mounds that was her pubis. As he kissed them more fluid oozed forth, and her womanly lips spread wider to reveal the delicate beauty of inner rippling pink flesh, two parallel folds of reddish pink skin, that were her labial walls.

He took his lips and sucked the juices from her vagina. As he did so he heard her breathy sighs, and felt her as she pressed her mons up toward his mouth. He kept kissing and sucking, knowing he was giving her pleasure.

Maureen loved the feel of his mouth on her pussy. She luxuriated in the strength of his mouth and lips as they pulled and tugged at her nether lips. He was also driving her to distraction; it felt so good, too good even. She tried to pull his head up with her hands. She loved what he was doing, but she wouldn't be able to hold out for what she expected was the main event in the bedroom later if he kept up what he was doing. She pulled more and more frantically on his head. She had to get him up and off her tender puss before she lost all control. 

This was all new to Cal, but he recognized and understood that he was having an affect on Maureen. Even though he was enjoying what he was doing, he decided on a change of pace. He slowly climbed up the sofa to be near her face. He started kissing her face and upper lips again. 

While he attended to her adorable raspberry red facial buds, he took his right hand and began to softly massage her pubic mound. He used three fingers to apply soft but steady pressure against the surface of her mons. He was outside her vaginal cleft offering steady pressure. He could feel her reaction. She squirmed and gently writhed under the insistent presence of his hand and fingers. 

He kissed her face, while his right hand rubbed up and down the surface of her pussy. He took his fingers and squeezed her vagina even while he nuzzled her neck with his mouth and fondled her ear with his left hand. 

He delighted in caressing and savoring her face and neck, while he massaged and manipulated her vagina. As he did these things he could feel her body rise and fall, hear her lungs, and feel her warm breath on his face. 

He thought, 'Oh what sweetness, what ambrosia, what delectability! This was what it meant to be alive and in love.'

Maureen had reached the limit of her womanly endurance. She had never, not ever in her life, really reached an orgasm. Those occasions she'd been with other men had produced nothing but shame and pain. When alone, the few times she experimented she always retreated before the moment of glory. But what was happening now she couldn't control, she couldn't stop. Cal was doing things to her, and causing things to happen she'd read about but never lived. 

"Oh Cal," she whimpered. "Please stop. Show some compassion; please get off."

Cal was having too much fun; the excitement she was experiencing was just as real and just as overwhelming for him as for her. He wanted to please her, he wanted to continue to cosset, to pamper her; he believed her calls for a stop were premature. He wanted to keep loving her, petting her, just this way forever. He believed what he was doing was something she'd enjoy and remember forever. All he wanted to do was give her joy and happiness.

Then another messenger whispered in Cal's ear. This second messenger had a deeper modulation and offered a different viewpoint. Something inside him began to assert; when does no mean no? Does no mean yes or does it really mean no?'

Cal leaned back and rested his head on Maureen's hip. He continued to fondle her pussy lightly but asked, "I don't want to make you do something you don't want. Tell me what you want me to do."

Maureen took her right hand and twisted it in his hair, "You're wonderful. Take me to bed."

Cal got up and offered his hand.

Maureen didn't move. She continued to lie prone on the sofa. She said, "No you must carry me."

He almost cried out; the excitement of carrying his maiden, his woman, his conquest as if to some hidden lair was all consuming. The veneer of civilization was momentarily torn away; for conquest in his innermost mind's eye she surely was. His imagination was running amuck! For a few seconds his deepest dreams ran wild; he imagined her in chains, shackled to the bed, helpless, completely at his mercy. The thoughts quickly passed, but a few seconds his man's most primitive, most predatory instincts had surfaced. They were like a tonic, a fierce piercing injection of adrenaline that both invigorated and exacerbated the sexual tension overwhelming his body. 

He lifted her like she was a baby, and carried her into her bedroom. The time had arrived. Their moment had come. He and she, Cal and Maureen, were about to share, about to complete the greatest experience two people in love could ever accomplish. 

He lifted her tenderly, like an innocent helpless lamb, and carried her to her old bed, the bed that, though still not yet remembered by either, had been the scene of so much pain and suffering; that site where a little girl once cried and screamed in fear and protest as doctors and therapists worked their tyrannies. 

Cal and Maureen, they abandoned the warm soft old sofa, that one time horrid Calvary where a little boy so often sat and listened in quiet desperation while his true love cried out her helpless tears. They drifted, immersed in love, back to the original scene of so much innocent child's anguish; both completely oblivious of the ravaged old battlegrounds they were crossing. 

Cal carried her to her bed. As he crossed the weathered hardwood threshold that separated the outside world from that sacred inner sanctuary, the place where true love works it's miracles he carefully kicked the door closed with his foot. This was their first time, their first singular sexual experience when they would bring to fruition all their pent up passions, their repressed sexual energies, long since forgotten and suppressed tears, and where they would draw together and share that one greatest thing only two people so deeply in love can enjoy. 




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 05



Together Cal and Maureen were finally about to unite; two would become one, a couple would congeal, meld, and become a singular entity. They would do it amid the ruins of another couple long ago lost, an innocent child couple that, years before, had seen their little world smashed and sundered. 

The Gods rejoice! What had been destroyed was being restored! 

Needless to say it's a time of insurmountable joy, of unparalleled happiness, and a time when prying eyes have to be excluded. We'll leave Cal and Maureen to their uniquely peerless moment, that most sublime occasion, that moment when two kindred souls find each other. This is their time; it cannot be despoiled by prying eyes, or the lustful voyeuristic gazes of outsiders. 

There will be other moments when Cal and Maureen will enjoy each other in those most intimate ways, but this time, this first time belongs only to them. 

Across town, twenty miles to be exact, an old man is rummaging through tired dusty and tattered boxes that had been stowed away in an attic more than forty years before. Once he had a life, he had dreams; he had visions of a future. He remembered how he'd married his high school sweetheart. They'd saved their money, bought a home, an old two story. They'd managed to scrape the money together get a garage started. For the first few years he did the work, while she did the books. They scrimped and saved, and finally they were ready to start a family.

The doctors had warned them. She was a little woman; her pelvis was small, having babies would be risky. But they were young, in love, and refused to believe anything could threaten their hopes and dreams. 

The doctors were right. They were always right. She was too small; the baby ripped her small uterus to shreds. The infant, a little girl survived, but her mother was left behind. The tragedy nearly destroyed the young man; his world had ended before it had begun. But he had the baby. The cherub became his reason to go on, his sole purpose for fighting through each lonely day. He never remarried; never looked at another woman. He raised his daughter as best he could. Still, he couldn't protect her from everything. The outside world, with its wealthy, privileged, and protected children stole his daughter's loyalty. 

One particularly slimy adolescent whisked his girl away with a package of lies. She fell for him, and he used her. When she announced her pregnancy he scoffed. She was a pig, a poor man's bitch, unworthy and unmarriageable for anyone of his status.

The girl was crushed; she turned back to her widowed father. They worked to find a place for her and her little boy. Then she died too; a drunk driver stole her one night. He, Jared, the old man, was left with a grandchild, a little boy. He started over again. He did the best he could. This time it worked.

The little boy, grandchild of his long lost heart's desire, son of his poor lost daughter, had found his true love. Now the old man rummaged through chests and boxes he'd stored away, boxes that held the memories and heartache of so many years before.

Jared cussed to himself, "I know her jewelry's in here someplace." 

He searched and searched until he found what he was looking for. He took it out of the dried crumpled tissue paper, and held it up. He'd saved it for his daughter, but she never got the chance. Now it was Cal's turn. Would he take these tawdry old rings, one with its tiny imperfect diamond, the other, at the time, a simple twelve dollar fourteen carat gold band?

They had been his wife's; and all they could afford so many years ago. Would Cal at least consider taking them? He hoped so. He really hoped so. It would mean a lot. 

He held them up to the light of the naked bulb in the attic. They weren't much, but they meant a lot to him. In a lot of ways they were all he had. 

Nearby, at the Motel Six, Andrea Thiessen, Maureen's mom, decided to stay away until after supper. That she hoped would give them the time to do what she knew they would do, and perhaps start to digest what they saw when they found the pictures. She'd get home later. She hoped she could talk to just Maureen first, but she'd take what she could get. 

She called Tom, her husband. She told him everything that had been going on. She persuaded him to stay away until she called him. She didn't want him to come home before the kids had finished their project. She was surprised at how excited her husband had been. He had been a tired lonely hardworking drudge trying to repay medical bills and cover tuition costs all his life. She was amazed at his excitement when he found out that the very boy who'd been their guest all those years ago had been the one Maureen had found. 

Maureen awakened first. She peered over at her watch which was on the table by her bed. 'Wow,' she thought, its 11:00.' She looked over at her sleeping hero next to her. Actually next to her was a misnomer. He was sleeping on top of her; his left arm wrapped all over her chest and his left leg straddled across her thighs. She was uncomfortable, but she didn't mind. It actually didn't feel uncomfortable, it felt good in a weird sort of I'm wrapped up by the man I love sort of way.

She had to slip off the bed and make her way to the bathroom. She really had to go. She reached down and felt down around her vulva. She was all sticky. Maybe some of his semen had leaked out. No she doubted that, the way he got so deep up inside her, and the way it just fired off in there, no none of that stuff got out. The gumminess she felt was her sticky, her goo. 

She went in, turned on the shower, grabbed the soap, and started washing. She wasn't washing off because she felt dirty; she just wanted to stop feeling so sticky. Pretty quick she was done, and wrapped herself in her big terry cloth bathrobe. She needed to get a big robe for Cal. She slipped back out and found Cal was up now as well.

Cal yelled in from the kitchen, "Coffee's on!"

Maureen walked in and found him sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. She sidled over planning on giving him a nice long kiss before pouring each of them a coffee.

He didn't give her the chance. He grabbed her and swung her down on his lap.

Before she knew what had happened he was way up inside her again. Here they were, him sitting on a chair, her sitting on his lap, and him with his man thing pushed way up inside her pussy again. 

Maureen didn't know what to do. It felt so good to have him in there. She grabbed his ears and started shaking his head back and forth almost growling, "Oh I love you, I love you, I love you."

He pulled her hands away and forced her to wrap them around his waist. Next thing she knew he was standing up and was pushing her butt down on the edge of the table. He started pushing in and out. She started rocking back and forth. It only lasted a few minutes before she felt his semen pour up inside her again. 

'Geez,' she thought, 'If this keeps up he'll dehydrate.'

He sat back down on the chair, but didn't let her off his lap. He kissed her neck, "I love it when I'm inside you like this."

She leaned forward to give him better access to her neck, "Me too." 

After a few more minutes delay it was time for him to withdraw. There wasn't much left anyway. He'd shriveled back from a massive manly carriage into a measly little pumpkin again. She giggled silently, 'that was a private joke they'd invented the night before in bed after their second time.'

Cal picked her up and sat her on the table, "We need to get started."

She looked at him, "Gazebo?"

He smiled, "Gazebo."

Cal got a quick shower and got dressed. He pondered what had happened. Last night had been twice, and then this morning, that was three times. He was feeling a little sore, but he could tell he wanted to do it again. He wondered how many times a man usually did it?

Maureen was feeling a little sore too, but still wondered when he was going to come at her again. She was ready! She realized; she really liked sex! It felt good! Or was it good because it was with him?

They got outside and went to work on the gazebo. With the footers already in place Cal got to work cutting 4X4s to size, and then cutting 2X8's to draw them together. It took a couple hours, but by 2:00 he had the 4X4's up and connected with 2X8's. 

With the outer shell set, he started cutting and piecing in the cross pieces. He cut two main 2X8's that traversed the farthest distance of the internal circuit of the gazebo. While Maureen held them he nailed each long piece into metal brackets he'd already affixed. The distance between these two main longitudinal beams was six inches internally. He cut four more 2X8 beans beams and, using more metal brackets, he affixed them to the longer cross sectional beams. These would provide the main support. He cut more 2X8's but measured them off at 16 inch intervals. He affixed them to the internal circuit using metal brackets as well. 

By then it was getting late and he was wearing out. He used the last hour to locate where the steps should go, how many steps he planned, and where the footers should be for the vertical posts for the handrail. Then he never guessed; he'd selected just the spot where the old steps had been. Two footers were already in existence. He wouldn't have to mix a single bag of concrete! 

He explained to Maureen how things looked, and what they could get done the next day. Checking his wristwatch he saw it was nearly 5:00. He had to call his next door neighbor to make sure Maggie got fed, and he wanted to clean up and spend some relax time with Maureen.

Maureen checked the time, "Want to run over to the tavern?"

He grinned, "Let's shower together before we go."

She grabbed his arm, "Come on."

Half way in the door he grabbed her again and pushed her up against the outside wall of the house. He wanted to launch another all out invasion, but had to stop. Maureen's mother pulled up.

Maureen said, "This can wait. Let's clean up and talk to mom before we go to the tavern."

He had her hands in his, "Oh I guess so, but I want to get inside you again before we go anywhere."

She cajoled, "Not now, mom's home."

Cal wouldn't let go, "Later maybe?"

She was just as horny as he was, but had to think of her mom, "Later, maybe."

He took that as a maybe yes, "OK."

They both walked down the porch steps, arm in arm and greeted Maureen's mother.

Maureen's mom got out of her car, "Hey looks like you got a lot done."

Maureen, her right arm around Cal's waist, "Yeah, we got a lot done."

He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

Maureen was pleased to see the young people had hit it off, but she wanted to find out if her daughter had seen the pictures, "You two doing anything tonight?"

Maureen smiled up at Cal, "We were headed over to the tavern. We had something of an announcement we wanted to make, but we'll stay home if you want us to."

Andrea wasn't sure whether her daughter had bothered to look in the envelope. She didn't know exactly how to get what she wanted across. She managed to get out, "I think I left an envelope on you bedside table by mistake. Did you see it?"

Maureen remembered the old envelope, "Yeah, I put in the top drawer."

Andrea asked, "Did you open it?"

Maureen answered, "No, was I supposed to?" 

Andrea responded, "Not really." She paused and then added, "Cal would you mind if I asked you to go home tonight. You're welcome back tomorrow of course." Pointing to the gazebo, "I know you two have a lot to do."

Cal answered, "No, not at all. I have to get home to Maggie anyway." Then he paused, "Would it be OK, if I brought Maggie back with me tomorrow?"

Andrea grinned sheepishly, "Maggie's your dog."

Cal nodded.

Andrea added, "Yeah, bring her down. I'll be at work most of the day, but I'd like to see her."

Cal broadly grinned, "Great!"

Andrea shuffled up the steps of the porch, now, if you two don't mind I'm going upstairs." She turned and looked pointedly at her daughter, "Leave the envelope where it is. I'll show it to you later."

Maureen, clueless, answered, "OK."

Cal and Maureen, what with Andrea home, showered separately, dressed and drove off to the tavern. Cal thought they'd get a bite to eat, and maybe hang out with some of the people there. He had no ideas Maureen had something entirely different in mind. If he had known what she was up to, he might not have agreed to go, Cal being Cal.

Maureen had on a dark blue polka dot mini-dress. It flared out at the hem, and was trimmed in tiny ruffles at the hem, the three quarter length flared sleeves, and the plunging V-shaped neckline. Her make up was subdued, and she had her hair in a bun, something unusual for Maureen since her was so thick. She was wearing her tennis bracelet. 

Maureen always looked good, and usually sexy, but tonight she looked downright wanton. Cal was almost afraid to let her go in; fearful he'd have to fend off male traffic all night. 

Cal was looking pretty good himself. He had on a pair of light blue jeans, black tennis shies, and a dark blue V-neck T-shirt. Cal wasn't the muscular type, but he was muscled. 

The shirt and the pants exhibited his lean masculinity to its fullest, and Maureen was proud of him. Tonight was the night she planned to show off in other ways as well.

They got to the tavern, and since it was a Wednesday, it was only moderately crowded. Cal and Maureen each ordered a turkey club sandwich, some French fries, Cole slaw, and a drink. Cal got a domestic beer. Maureen got a white wine.

They took a table and ate. After a few minutes they were joined by Warren and his girl Annie. 

Another couple, moderately close friends of Cal's also took up residence at their table.

Most of the time the six of them just hung out and bantered back and forth, but as the tavern filled up Maureen's demeanor changed.

For one thing Maureen started to fiddle with the inside Cal's left thigh. He liked it but, felt a little odd, since they were out. He gently pressed her hand back on her lap. He didn't think anybody was paying attention, but Warren and Annie caught every move.

A few minutes later, while discussing something about chain saws Maureen slid her hand precisely between Cal's legs. To his surprise she started fondling his penis under the table. He didn't know it, but by then everyone had started to take a keener notice in Maureen's behavior.

While they'd been talking Maureen had started what could only a kind of mating ritual. She kept discreetly leering at Cal like he was a piece of meat she intended to carve up and eat. Many of her comments had double meanings. Even Cal caught on to that. 

He moved her hand away from his crotch, but it was to no avail. She returned it with a vengeance. By then more than a few people were watching. Everyone could tell Maureen was up to something. 

Finally Cal came to the frank realization Maureen had her own agenda. He asked, "What are you up to?"

It was like a signal, "She slowly, ever so slowly, climbed from her chair at the table, and slid on top of his lap. With her legs straddling his, she wrapped her arms around his head. She started rubbing her hands through his hair.

Cal expostulated, "Maureen."

She squeezed her legs tighter pushing his legs closer together. She took her hands and pulled his head close to hers and kissed him full and long on the lips, "You going to tell them, or do I have to?"

Well Cal had been thinking about only one thing all afternoon, and he didn't believe that was what Maureen wanted him to bring up. He just couldn't think of anything to say, "What do you mean?"

She kept fingering through his hair and kissing his mouth and cheeks. She started to slowly rhythmically move back and forth on his lap.

Cal was getting an erection and he was embarrassed by Maureen's behavior. He said again, "Maureen."

She kept up the pressure, the slow movement on his lap, her slow deliberate kisses, the movement of her hands through his hair, "What did you ask me last night?"

'Oh shit', thought Cal. He was so flustered, so taken in by what she was doing he'd completely forgotten. Now he got it. He smiled at her, "I'm stupid. I did it again."

She kept smiling, kept kissing, and kept undulating.

He stopped her. He stood up. Lifted her off his lap, and sat her on the table. While he stood beside her, he started kissing her so everyone would see he was returning her blandishments fully and completely. He spoke loudly, but no in a yell, "I have something to say."

The tavern grew quiet.

Cal lifted Maureen off the table and held her like she was a baby, "Everybody, I asked Maureen to marry me last night."

At first no one said much, then there was a smattering of comments, followed by a round of vigorous applause.

Warren slapped him on the back, "Congratulations old buddy."

Cal interrupted. He looked at Maureen in his arms, "She told me no."

Maureen turned a vivid red. She'd planned on embarrassing him into making the announcement, but he'd turned the tables.

Cal had her and he knew it. He finished her off in a way she never expected, "She said she wouldn't marry me because I was a virgin." He looked at her again. He had her. He really had her. She was as red as beet. He knew it was time to finish her off. He announced, "I love Maureen, and I really want to marry her, but as you can see I'm not qualified." He waited just long enough to make sure everyone was listening, "So I need help. Who wants to be first to make me a man of the world?"

Everyone started laughing, and in an instant girls from all around the tavern started hollering, "I will! I will! I do you Cal! Over here Cal! Even Annie chimed in, "If it's OK with Warren."

Warren yelled, "Go for it Annie!"

At first Maureen didn't know how to react. She wanted to get mad, but quickly realized a joke had been played on her. She shut them all up, "You're all too late. I got him last night, and this morning." She waited maybe five seconds and lied, "And this afternoon!"

Everybody cheered. The whole gang crowded around, slapping Cal on the back, hugging or kissing Maureen as the case seemed to warrant. Even Sandy, who'd only just arrived got wind of the proceedings and gave Cal a kiss and Maureen a big hug.

Cal and Maureen stood in the middle of the crowd and kissed so everyone clearly understood there was indeed gong to be a wedding, and they were indeed madly and desperately in love.

Slowly things got back to normal. With the announcement made, Maureen no longer felt like she had to perform, but she and Cal did still keep kissing. It had been a great trick, followed by a second trick, and finished by a kind of universal treat. 

A little while later Cal and Maureen left the tavern. Cal drove Maureen home. To their chagrin it looked like the great sexplosion of the later evening was going to have to wait. Maureen's mom was waiting at the door, and Cal had to get home and see about his dog Maggie. They kissed goodnight at the foot of the steps in front of Andrea.

Cal said, "Till tomorrow."

Maureen answered, "Tomorrow."

Cal jumped in his truck and sped on home. He kept laughing and singing all the way home. These were the happiest moments of his life.

Maureen dreamily walked up the steps to her mom, "Mom, he asked me to marry him last night, and again tonight." She hugged her mom, "I've never felt this way before. I can't describe it."

Andrea hugged her daughter, I'm so happy for you. Come on inside I have some things I want to show you."

Maureen, still starry eyed answered, "OK, mom." 

Jared was sitting at Cal's kitchen table petting Maggie. He couldn't wait. He had to find out where Cal stood about the old rings. He couldn't help it, he was old, he'd shed a tear or two. 



A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 06



Maureen and her mother leaned against each other as they waved good bye to Cal. It had been a long day for both, but another event was still in store for the younger woman; an event she had no inclination of. 

Cal had asked Maureen to marry him the night before at the Olive Garden. Maureen had said yes but no too; she'd played a silly trick on him about being a virgin; saying she couldn't marry him until he lost his cherry. He'd given it up to her later that very evening. In fact he'd given it up, and given it up, and given it up. 

Technically Maureen hadn't been a virgin, but the experience she'd had with Cal was her first 'true' romantic encounter; it was far different from the two other times she'd been with boys. It was something she'd remember for the rest of her life; something she'd cherish for always.

They'd gone to the tavern the next night where she thought she'd tricked him again. He'd asked her to marry him, that was true, but only he and she and her mother knew it. At the tavern she manipulated him into publicly announcing their engagement, but then he 'one upped' her by telling everyone about the condition she'd placed on her acceptance. After that he asked for volunteers among the ladies to make him eligible for marriage. The girls all understood the joke and most volunteered to help him out. It was an embarrassing but heartwarming few minutes. 

Later he took her home and dropped her off. Cal had to attend to his dog Maggie, and Maureen's mom, Andrea, wanted to have a heart to heart with her daughter. 

Maureen's mom had suffered through her own tribulations over the years helping her daughter struggle with her injuries. Andrea stood beside the now hale and healthy young woman she had helped make whole, it hadn't been easy.

Even after twenty years the awful sight of her precious baby lodged beneath that fearsome branch horrified her; it was a nightmare from which she was never quite able to escape. She remembered those first seconds of desperation; trying to dislodge the limb from her screaming child, then the terrifying wait after she called 911. 

That had been twenty years ago, and now, even now, standing on the porch, her palms would get sweaty and her limbs would start to shake. Standing on the porch with her arm around her daughter the terror of those first moments were as stark and real as when they first occurred. It was an enervating remembrance; an omnipresent fear.

She remembered every single minute, every single day, the arrival of the paramedics, the fright in their eyes; their grim solicitude convinced her child's chances were nonexistent. She remembered their frantic efforts to lift the branch, finding her husband's chain saw, cutting the limb away, the baleful screams of her little girl every time the branch moved even just a fraction of an inch.

Riding in the ambulance that day was the longest trip of her life. How much pain killer could one give a four year old; not much. The high pitched agonizing screams, the sight of little bones extruding through tensed muscles, the pathetic pleas for help, and those green eyes crying out for her mommy's help; these were terrors she relived every single day of her life.

Andrea had relived those moments, those hours of helplessness every waking moment of her life. Maureen was her little girl, her only little girl. The doctors had said she could have no more children; it didn't matter, to lose one, to lose one in the manner that had been shaping up was unthinkable.

As Andrea watched Cal drive away thoughts of those first days and weeks crowded in. Of course, they had never, ever, been far from her consciousness. She remembered the long hours that turned into days at the hospital. There had been the homeward ambulance trip; that trip wherein she was sure the doctors and nurses believed they were sending her child, her baby, home to die.

For days after their return Andrea had been afraid to go to sleep, even to close her eyes. What if she dozed off and her baby left her in those fleeting moments? Even after twenty years she still habitually awakened just to check, just to see. During the first year of Maureen's great adventure away at college she called day and night, to check in, fearful. 

She recalled how finally it had been Maureen who had put her foot down. Maureen had insisted she stop constantly calling; explaining that she was able to fend for herself. She stopped the daily phone calls, but she still worried. She also knew Maureen had forgotten her accident; she would never understand how fearful her mother was; she'd never know the terror. 

During those first days after the hospital Andrea's trauma never abated, her fear never receded, but her lonely vigil was eased considerably when the hospital called with news they'd found a full time, affordable, nurse. That had been Cal's mother, Ms. Burkheim. She thought her first name had been Lauren or was it Dorothy, she didn't recall? 

When Cal's mom arrived it opened the opportunity to find work to help pay the costs. She never dreamed how much doctors and medicines cost. She and her husband were buried under an unbelievable mountain of debt almost overnight. They were lucky; a government loan, a local funding project and her husband's veteran's benefits, had enabled them to get a good mortgage contract. Without it they would have been homeless very quickly.

Her husband had one job; he found another, a second job. She found a job at the local thrift store. It didn't pay much, but it enabled her to be close by if a crisis emerged, and there were crises. 

Cal's mom brought her little boy with her. They stayed on day and night. She remembered Cal so well. He was a lonely little boy. He needed a place to hang his cap, and her daughter needed a companion. 

Andrea reflected on the influence Cal had on her daughter. She, Andrea, remembered when she was a little girl her dad had brought a puppy home once. That little dog was the ugliest damn dog she'd ever seen, a little brown thing with grotesquely long gray whiskers, but she fell in love it with it right away. Tragically the puppy had a spinal deformity, and as it grew, it became increasingly unable to get about; any movement was a painful battle. 

She remembered that tiny little dog sleeping all day; waiting for her father to get home. When her dad got home the dog came to life; like it's only reason for hanging around was to get glimpse of her dad, a chance at some feeble play. In the end they had to put the dog down. 

Andrea squeezed her now strong grown daughter's waist. She thought about the way Maureen used to looked at that little boy, Cal. She remembered thinking about how her daughter reminded her of that little dog; the only thing keeping her daughter going being the presence of that little boy. Andrea knew that young man who just pulled away had saved her daughter's life.

Andrea looked at her daughter, her happy visage, her wonderful blissful innocent smile; to think the boy putting the color in her daughter's cheeks tonight was that self same boy who'd done the very same thing two decades before.

Andrea looked at Maureen and smiled, "Shall we go in?"

Maureen smiled back at her mom, "OK."



As they crossed the threshold into the kitchen Maureen thought of her mother. She loved her mother; she'd do anything for her, but she hoped tonight they could skip the mother daughter talk. 

Maureen felt all dreamy about Cal. All she wanted to do was go to bed, and fantasize about her hero, the newly discovered center of her universe, her lover. Sure her mom was important, she'd always been there when she needed her, sometimes when she didn't need to be there too, but the time was coming when she was going to have to start to let go. She couldn't pretend to try to protect her forever. Maureen was a grown woman. She needed her space.

The two women went inside; they crossed through the cluttered old kitchen to the living room. Maureen could see her daughter was tired and obviously preoccupied, certainly about the young man who'd just left, but she still needed to talk. 

Andrea asked, "May I get you a drink or something?'

Maureen answered, "No I'm good."

Mom kept up the one sided banter, "Come on in. Let's sit on the sofa a while."

As they both sat on the old sofa Maureen sort of assumed this was going to be another one of those big mother daughter talks. Her mom would probably warn her not to rush into anything, to make sure this was really the right boy, to admonish her about early pregnancies, birth control, fidelity, or worse, abortions. They'd had these same talks a hundred times.

Maureen decided to sit and listen; confident her mother only had her best interests at heart. She'd be a good girl. She figured she had a good answer for all the stuff her mom might bring up. She'd let her mother ramble and amble on, let her talk till she ran out of steam, then they could both go to bed, her mom satisfied she'd gotten her points across, and she, Maureen, satisfied she'd been the dutiful daughter. 

OK, maybe she was being a little condescending, but she loved her mother. If sitting through another long lecture made her mom happy, then it was the right thing to do.

Andrea sat down beside her daughter on the sofa. She sat in the center of the couch on her daughter's left making sure Maureen would get the benefit of the better lighting from the end table. She glanced down at her daughter's now strong, powerful, muscular legs. She remembered not so longer ago the brittle little bones, the emaciated little sinews. Her girl had grown up to be a strong, intelligent, sometimes willful, but always wonderful young woman. Yes, she'd beaten the odds. She was so proud of her. She loved her so very much.

Andrea took her daughter's hand, "You really love him?"

Maureen thought, uh oh, we're going into the let's make sure you know what you're doing mode, "I do mom."

"You and he, you've both thought this thing through?"

A nasty thought skipped across Maureen's brain. What if she said something like, no we're just two assholes out on a lark. She didn't though, she could put up with another well meaning motherly interrogation, "Not exactly, we're in love, we're old enough, and I think we both know what we want."

Andrea's squeezed Maureen's hand. It was a good strong womanly hand now; once it hadn't been that way. She looked at her daughter's fingernails. She remembered polishing them for her when she was little. 

She mentally slapped herself, she had to stay focused, "I've talked to your father. He knows the boy, and thinks he's a wonderful choice, a good fit for you. Oh, and Jared, Cal's grandfather, you know him, he's already in love with you."

Maureen looked up, surprised. She asked, "How does dad come to know Cal?"

Andrea gave her daughter's hand another squeeze. She thought she really is an innocent, "I'll come to that in a minute. But first there are some things I want to talk to you about, and I have some things to show you."

Maureen thought her mom hadn't given an opinion about Cal yet. She brought it up, "You haven't said anything yet. How do you feel?"

Andrea burst out, she bubbled forth, "Oh I think he's a wonderful choice. You and he are a perfect fit. But there are some things I want to tell you. Will you listen?"

Maureen thought, uh oh, she has objections. She didn't say that though. She gave her mom a warm, slightly condescending, smile, "Of course mom, but I've made up my mind."

Andrea reached over and picked a piece of lint off her daughter's dress and flicked it on the floor, "I don't want you to change your mind. I only want to help you better understand."

Maureen leaned back slightly, "Understand? What's not to understand?"

Andrea saw and sensed the growing impatience, "Has Cal said anything about your legs?"

Maureen looked down at her legs, the scars, the dozens of striated white lines that betrayed years of surgeries and therapy, "No, I don't think he's noticed. Does it matter?"

Andrea asked, "Have you thought about what you're going to tell him?"

Maureen answered, "I don't know. I'll tell him I was hurt, and had work done. I don't think he'll care."

Andrea first reassured, then corrected her daughter, "I know he won't care regarding marriage. It won't change his mind. In fact, it will more than likely reaffirm his commitment to you, but I do think it will matter. I think it will matter a great deal." 

Maureen suspected her mother knew something or thought something. Maybe she knew something from earlier, something she hadn't let on about. Maybe she had an axe to grind. She didn't see her mother as one of those clinging types, but she wasn't sure. Suspicions were beginning to rise to the surface. 

Maureen asked her mother, "Do you know something I don't?"

Andrea answered her daughter's question with another question, "You don't remember much about your injuries do you?"

Maureen was tired and getting a little irritable, "You know that mom. You and dad never brought it up. You guys said it didn't matter. You said it happened when I was so young it didn't matter."

Andrea looked her daughter in the eye, "It matter's now."

Maureen had to put a stop to the cat and mouse she thought her mom was playing. She held up a hand, "First tell me you're not going to say something like dad is Cal's father and we're brother and sister."

Andrea ran her right hand around the side of her daughter's face. She took a piece of her hair and twirled it in her fingers. God she loved this girl, "Of course not. You're father has always been loyal, faithful, and true. You get that foolish notion out of that beautiful brain. Cal knows who his biological father is, always has. That has nothing to do with I want to say."

Maureen pushed her mom's hand away. This was all very disquieting. Her mom knew as much, if not more, about Cal than she did. Where was she getting all her information? She was sure her mom hadn't been snooping, that wasn't her style. 

She leaned her head back on the sofa. It had been an awfully long day; she was barely able to keep her eyes open. Weary, that was the word. She was weary. She hoped her mom would get to the point.

"OK," she said, "so what have you got to tell me?"

Andrea spoke to the question, "It's not so much what I have to say. I have some things to show you."

Maureen's mother reached behind to the sofa end table and pulled out a stack of pictures. She spoke to her daughter, "You remember these." She handed Maureen a small stack of pictures from her college, high school and middle school years.

Maureen glanced through the stack, and handed them back, "Oh mom. Of course, I remember all this."

Andrea handed her a second stack of pictures, "You remember these also I'll bet." There were five pictures from her last two years of elementary school, fourth and fifth grades. Maureen was standing in crutches in some, sitting in a wheelchair in a couple, and just sitting at the kitchen table in one. 

These were pictures Maureen remembered, but more in an off hand way. They reflected a time when a lot of things were happening around her that had been blurry.

She told her mother, "I remember what's in these pictures, sure, sort of."

Andrea knew she had passed through the 'safe' pictures. The next sets were going to be different. 

Her mom handed her some older pictures of the house. There weren't any people in them. Some had been taken inside, some outside. The pivotal photo showed the old gazebo.

While Maureen whisked through the house pictures Andrea asked, "Do you remember any of these?"

Maureen looked at them. She saw the old sofa they were sitting on. It looked newer in the snapshot. The porch looked different, cleaner. There was a gazebo in the only outside picture. It was surrounded by a bunch of huge trees. She didn't remember the gazebo or the trees at all.

Maureen told her mother, "Cal found the footers to this gazebo. Was it here when we moved in?"

Her mom answered, "Oh yeah, it was here."

"What happened to it?"

"Your dad had it and all the trees torn down."

Maureen figured it must have been old really old, "I guess it was so old you and dad decided to get rid of it."

Andrea wasn't very reassuring, "It was old, but that wasn't why we had it torn down."

Maureen didn't know where her mother was taking this. It was boring, she was tired, she wanted to go to bed, and she was a little scared about the whole gazebo thing too, "OK, I give up. You had an old gazebo torn down. Why?"

Her mother answered in a very strange way, "I can't explain why we tore it down. Maybe if you looked at another picture." 

Andrea handed her another old snapshot. This one was small, grainy, and wrinkled. There was a little girl in the center. She was much smaller than any of the pictures of Maureen that her mother had shown her before, so Maureen figured it wasn't of her. The girl was sitting on a chair in the gazebo that had been in the other picture. The girl was sitting off to the right on the side a little. The whole thing was faint, blurred up too; too blurry to tell anything. This seemed like such a waste of time. 

Maureen couldn't take her eyes off the girl's face. It could have been her! No it wasn't her, but whoever it was, she sure looked sad, like real sad. She looked sickly. She looked like she'd either been crying or wanted to cry. Maureen felt sorry for her. She couldn't tell much more. The little girl had dark, maybe black hair. The picture was in black and white so she couldn't get any clues about complexion, and the thing was so small eye color would have been impossible to tell. It wasn't her anyway. She never looked like that.

Maureen kept staring at the face in the picture. She was tired. She wanted to go to bed. Sitting on the sofa with her mother looking at old pictures of some sick little girl wasn't what she wanted to do. That wasn't her in the picture. That couldn't be her. 

Maureen didn't want to do this any more. She looked at her mother. Andrea had her special warm loving expression on; the expression she always evinced when something real sad or real bad was about to be brought up. 

She really didn't want to do this anymore. She was afraid to ask her next question, but blurted out anyway, "Who is this girl? This isn't me." There she'd said. It wasn't her. She'd said it with a finality that would have convinced the most hard boiled judge.

Maureen's mother answered her, "No, that's you dear." 

Maureen put the picture down on the sofa, "No. No. That's not me."

Andrea wanted to tell her it wasn't, but it was, "No honey, that's a picture of you."

Maureen lashed out, "You never showed me this before! Why now?"

Maureen didn't like the picture. She didn't like the flow of the conversation. She wasn't very sure if she liked her mother very much right then either, "Why did you wait till now to show me this?" 

Andrea didn't answer her daughter. She handed her another photograph.

Maureen accepted it. This picture was in color! It was the same little girl. She was sitting in a wheelchair, Maureen's old wheelchair, only the little girl was so small the chair dwarfed her. The little girl's pallid complexion, her wan look, the frailty of her countenance betrayed everything, a million fears, ten million unspoken emotions, and pain. Maureen could see the pain in her face! 

Maureen knew now it was her! She was shocked and angry! Angry with her mother for showing her all this after all these years, upset that she couldn't remember any of it, and scared, scared because she didn't know where this was going, and she didn't want to know where it was going! She didn't want it to go anywhere! 

The younger woman shifted her seat further back on the sofa. Her muscles ached, her eyes scratchy with fatigue. They were diffident eyes, filled with un-uttered complaints, angry comments, as yet unscripted angry words too harsh to articulate to a loving mother, and yet there was a nascent desire to keep going, to follow her mother's lead. She felt like she was in some old mystery novel where the captive girl had left a series of clues along the trail; follow the clues and find what you're searching for.




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 06



Maureen asked, "Why are you showing me all this?"

Andrea could see the anger in her daughter's face; she heard it in her voice; the plaintiff's cry of stop, desist, but also the plea for more, something still unsaid, some kind of closure. Maybe this was a mistake? 

She handed her daughter another picture.

The next snapshot Maureen saw was of that same little girl sitting in the old gazebo, a blanket of some sort wrapped around her legs. The girl had on some kind of hat, a crown, maybe a tiara. She had something in her hand, a wand perhaps, or a child's scepter. She knew who the girl was.

There was more! There was somebody else in the picture, not an adult. She saw a little boy! The boy was small; he had sandy colored hair. In his hand there looked like what might be a stick or a sword. In his other hand there was something else; something odd, really too big for the boy. The thing was shaped like some medieval shield. The boy was holding a sword and a shield. 

She couldn't see the boy's face. He seemed to be bending or twisting down and around; standing at the bottom of the gazebo steps. He might have been saying something, maybe talking to the little girl, talking to her. The boy was certainly small; he couldn't have been much, if any, older than the girl. 

Yes she could see they were talking. She wondered what they might have been saying.

Maureen put the picture down. She looked accusingly at her mother. OK, she knew she was the girl, so what about the boy? She didn't dare ask. She was afraid she already knew.

Andrea felt sick at what she was doing, but she knew now this was the right thing. There was only one more picture. She handed it out to her.

Maureen was at first disinclined to accept what she saw as her mother's last offering. She didn't want to know. She took it.

This was ghastly! There were five people; her father and mother she recognized immediately. The little girl in the wheel at the center of the group was wearing a little tiara and holding up a scepter. God she looked so weak, so pitiable. 

The little boy was there too; sandy hair, bright shiny eyes, sad but encouraging smile. He was gripping the sword in one hand and holding the shield in the other. He was holding the sword down; blade tip pointing at the ground. He had a gentle but protective look. He wasn't looking at the photographer; he was looking at the little girl. 

Oh God! Maureen saw the girl had her hand on his right arm! She knew it was she and Cal! He was the little boy! He was standing guard! He was pretending to be her protector! 

Maureen, still staring at the picture, trying to make out everything else whispered, "Oh mom."

Maureen saw how tired her father looked. She saw the fatigue and the fear in her mother's countenance. Her mother, like the little boy, was looking at the little girl She could see the fear, the uncertainty; it was written all over her mother's face. 

She glanced down at her strong muscular legs; at the many thin slivers of white scar tissue. She looked up at her mom. What horrors, what torments had her mother gone through during those awful days, "Mom." She couldn't get anything else out.

There was one more person in the picture; a young looking woman, quite pretty. She had a very reassuring, confident look. 

Maureen asked, "Who is the other woman?"

Her mom answered, "That's Cal's mom."

Maureen was confused, "Who took the picture?"

Andrea smiled, "Jared."

Maureen burst into tears. She sobbed uncontrollably. She fell into her mother's arms. She wrapped her arms around her mother, "Oh mom, oh mom, mommy."

Andrea held her daughter tightly, she consoled her with soft words, she wiped her hand down the back of her head, straightening her hair. She pressed her cheek against her daughter's, "There, there. I know, I know. It's all right. Everything's all right." 

But for Maureen everything wasn't all right. Nothing was all right! She couldn't remember any of it. All the pictures did was show her who she was. They didn't bring anything to life. She whimpered, "Mom I can't remember. I can't remember any of it. Mom, why can't I remember?"

Andrea kept stroking her daughter's head. She kept whispering nothings in her ear. Then she said, "I have something else."

Maureen leaned back a little, "Oh no! What now?"

Andrea leaned down and around and reached under the sofa. She'd had an old shopping bag stored away in the top of her closet for twenty years. Earlier, while Maureen was out, she'd found it and brought it down. She pulled the old bag from under the sofa. It was old, dried, and brittle, ready to disintegrate. 

She pulled several small items from the bag. First she pulled out a paper tiara, a tiny little cheaply made paper crown. Next came a tiny wooden scepter. One end had several Popsicle sticks glued together. It looked like the glue was so dry any sudden movement would cause the tired old sticks to fall off. There was still the residue of old sprinkle material, barely any, on the end of the wood. Third, she pulled out a cardboard sword. Last out came the shield.

Maureen just sat and wept. Every new artifact was like a fossil, the three dimensional proofs of a life she couldn't remember.

Andrea told her daughter, "Read the names on the tiara and the sword."

Maureen knew what names were there. She held each object up; on the tiara was printed in small neat letters 'Princess Maureen', on the sword 'Prince Cal'.

She put the old toys down and buried her head in her mother's breasts. She wept, she cried, she sobbed, over and over and over, "Oh mom, oh mom. "

Andrea lay the child's things aside. She lay back on the couch, pulling her daughter back against her, "Let me tell you a story."

Maureen wrapped her left arm back behind and around her mother's waist. She lay her right arm on her mother's ap. She laid her head on her breasts. She was a little girl again; her mom's little girl.

Andrea held her daughter's head tightly beneath her chin. She kissed the top of her head while she used her left hand to caress her face. She closed her eyes; 'my little girl, my precious, perfect person.'

Over the next half hour Andrea told her daughter of the little girl, the big maple, the terrible accident, the brush with death, the inexperienced nurse, the little boy, the long months of suffering and insecurity, the uncertainty right up to and through the spring, summer and into the fall. She talked about the charity, the separation, the heartbreak, and then the hospital, the operations and therapy. She explained about the little boy too, his helpfulness, his loss, his heartache, his anger, his loneliness, and the eventual loss of his mother.

Maureen listened to the like it was a lost fairy story, which in fact it had become. She wondered if she'd ever really remember any of it. She kept thinking about the little boy.

Maureen knew who the boy was, but she still needed reassurance, "The little boy was my Cal wasn't he."

Andrea, still holding her daughter tightly, "Who would have dreamed the two of you would find each other again?"

Maureen felt better. This really was like a fairy tale. There were no deep dark dangerous secrets; no terrible or hidden dangers, only a story filled with love, lots of love. It was a story that had been shelved for twenty years, but never discarded, never trashed or thrown away. It had been a story long saved, waiting for the right time to resurface.

A lot more made sense to Maureen now. It helped explain her immediate attraction to Cal; her willingness to see him differently from the ways she'd seen other men, her easy empathy for his suppressed anger and unhappiness. 

To her it was like the parting of the waters. Cal was exactly who he was, her meant to be, that one and only special someone. Theirs was that unique, that special love, a relationship that had, could have only, been made in heaven. 

She understood too, it didn't have to happen that way; any twist, any turn, any misstep could have taken everything and everyone in a dozen different directions. But those things didn't happen. Everything twisted and turned the right way. She remembered that first night at the tavern; Sandy's insistence that she go. She almost didn't, but she did.

She looked at the pictures of her injury time over and over again; she kept looking at the pictures of the little boy. He really had been her guardian angel, her rescuer, her dragon slayer. She realized she loved him now more than ever! 

Maureen asked her mom. "Does he know?"

Andrea answered, "No he doesn't know."

Maureen looked at the scars on her legs. She looked at the old picture of her mom. She smoothed her fingers over the old toys. She pressed back against her mother again, "Mom?"

Her mother responded, "Yes honey?"

"Mom will you sleep with me tonight?"

Andrea kissed her daughter's cheek. They hadn't slept together in years, "Oh course darling."

Together mother and daughter got up and went back into Maureen's bedroom. It was the same tired old bed a crippled little girl had slept in, but that had been a long time ago. The mattress was new; the sheets were new too, satin, stained in places, but the love wasn't, the love was old, enduring. 

Neither slept well that night. Andrea lay awake most of the night listening to her daughter; not a new thing for her. Maureen wept and dreamt. Andrea guessed the pictures, the old toys, and their shared talk might be stirring some old long forgotten memories. She hoped and prayed most of those terrible old days stayed buried, but she was glad the idea of those days had at last been brought out.

Andrea had done a lot of praying in and beside this old bed. She prayed again tonight.

Cal got home shortly after 12:00. He was dead dog tired, bushed. Pulling into his short drive he saw his grandfather's car; a very late model Chevrolet. There were a few things Cal's grandfather prided himself on. Cal always tried to live up to the same standards. One was his grandfather believed in honesty and fair dealing; for Jared a handshake meant something. He was a devoted believer in the Calvinist work ethic, and he believed a person didn't just throw things away. If it could be fixed, it could be kept. Granddad's truck was proof of that; a sixteen year old Chevy Silverado, four wheel drive, long bed, extended cab.

Cal recalled when it was time for his first vehicle it turned out to be a used Silverado just like Grandpa's except for the long bed. That was the same truck whose transmission died the other night. Cal bet grandpa was dropping his car off to so he could claim his truck, and he just bet the transmission in Cal's truck had already been pulled.

Cal figured his grandpa was there because he wanted his truck. Cal also bet grandpa was a little put off having to come get it; especially since Cal said he'd bring it back.

Cal got out. Walked up his steps, opened the screen door and his house door. He got inside and saw his grandfather sitting at his kitchen table having a cup of probably warmed over coffee. 

Once Cal got inside Jared said, "Sit down a minute son."

Cal didn't wait for the sermon, "I'm sorry about not bringing your truck right back. I..."

Jared waved his grandson off, "Forget it, that's not why I'm here."

Cal said, "Oh."

Jared asked, "You feeling all right?"

Cal replied, "Yes sir."

Jared asked, "Job going OK?"

Cal nodded and answered, "Yes sir."

Jared, "How's the gazebo coming."

Cal responded, "Good."

Jared hesitated then added, "Found a used transmission for your truck."

Cal replied, "Thanks grandpa." It was grandpa now. The old man was being fatherly, Cal could never remember not thinking of his grandfather as being anything but old; it was like the man was born old.

Jared went on, "You want me to put it in?"

Cal answered, "Yes sir." 

The younger man knew there was something on the older man's mind. He hadn't come down just to tell him he had a transmission, and if he really wanted the pick up all he had to do was call.

Jared asked, "How are you and the girl doing?"

That was another thing that annoyed Cal. The old man hardly ever took an interest in Cal's social life before. In fact the only time he ever really interfered with anything he did was when Cal said he was getting a motorcycle. He remembered it was the only time he ever saw Jared blow up. He'd thrown Cal up against a wall, and threatened if he wanted to get killed he'd kill him himself and get it over with. Cal never brought up buying a motorcycle again. 

Another thing that got to Cal was how his grandfather seemed to know so much about this girl and her family. He knew his grandpa wasn't a snoop, but where did he get all his information?

Cal gave him the news, "I asked her to marry me. Is that all right with you sir?"

Jared answered, "It's not up to me Cal. If you love her, you don't need my approval."

Cal retorted, "No sir, but it would be nice."

Jared actually smiled, "She's a good girl. You could do a lot worse."

Cal thought, 'there he goes again. How does he know she's a good girl?' He said, "Thanks grandpa."

Jared had come down because there was something he wanted to do. He had begun to get cold feet, but the marriage comment gave him more courage. Still he wasn't quite ready to bring up why he was there, "The transmission I got is a good one."

"Thanks grandpa," Cal knew damn well this visit wasn't about any transmissions. His grandfather had something on his mind, it was important, and it couldn't or wouldn't wait. He wished the old man would come to the point. He was tired, he wanted to get to bed, he'd promised Maureen an early start in the morning.

Jared started fumbling around in the pockets of his overalls. He pulled out a napkin and un-wrapped whatever was in it. He had something in his hand, but wasn't ready to show it to Cal. Not yet.

The old man looked at the junk in his napkin covered hand. He almost decided to put the damn things away and just leave. Then he said to himself, 'crap, get them out.'

Cal sat quietly waiting, getting impatient.

Jared opened his hand.

Cal could see there was something there; it looked like old jewelry, rings.

Jared took the rings he had in his left palm, and held them between the index finger and thumb of his right. He put them on the table, "Thought you might like to have these."

Cal saw what they were; two old and clearly inexpensive rings, an engagement and probably a wedding ring. He knew his mother never got married. A light blinked on in his head. They were his grandmother's rings!

Cal nervously picked them up. Yeah they wouldn't bring much money, but he knew right away they would be the most valuable jewelry he'd ever own. "These are grandmother's." That wasn't a question; just a statement.

Jared answered, "She never had them long, five years I guess. She died; I put them away after we buried her. They've been in the attic most of forty years I guess."

Cal held them in his hand. He turned them over and over in his palm. These rings were priceless. No amount of money could buy anything like this. He thought of the graves down by the river; the people buried there, their dreams, what they must have wanted for their kids. He looked at his grandpa; it was like looking at those graves, only this time he knew things. Just what he knew he wasn't sure, but he knew things. Sometimes it was like that; a man could know something, and not be able to explain what it was he knew.

Cal said to Jared, "Would it be all right if I gave these rings to Maureen. I mean if we used them the way way you and grandma did?"

Jared's fear, his reluctance to share the rings had been completely without merit. He would have liked to say something; tell Cal how much the rings meant, how important they were, how pleased he was Cal accepted them, he just couldn't find the words.

Jared answered, "You can if you want, but if she doesn't like them or wants something fancy I'll understand. They're old, and they didn't cost much money."

Cal kept looking at the rings, there were tiny scratches on the band. He was afraid to look up at his grandfather; afraid he'd embarrass himself and his grandfather, "I think she'll like them."

Jared stood up, "Well they're yours." He pretended to look at his watch, "Got to go. Call me tomorrow afternoon. I should have your transmission in by then."

Cal walked his grandfather to the door, "I'll call." As Jared made his way down the steps Cal called after him, "Thank you grandpa."

Jared turned, raised one hand, and shook the boy off like it was no big deal.

Cal went back inside, put the rings on the counter above the microwave, scratched Maggie's head, and waited for his grandfather to pull away. He turned out the outside light, and started up the steps to bed. On the way up the steps he started doing something very unmanly. He might have laughed had he known Jared was doing the very same distinctly unmanly thing. 



Maureen went to bed with her mother, but sleep had become that quintessential delectation that was always just one deep breath, one weary sigh, one more toss, one more curled pillow out of reach. She tossed, she turned. She curled into a fetal ball, nothing worked.

She rubbed her hands over her muscular thighs, feeling those slight escarpments that had taunted her all her life. The images of that poor sickly girl, the sad little boy haunted her. Was that she? Was that Cal? Were they once those two tiny urchins clinging to some fantasy world only a child would understand? 

The pictures were the proof. She had her mother's testimony. There had been the immediacy of the link between her and Cal, and as she lay there bits and pieces of long suppressed events did start to resurface.

Maureen remembered that same one time smarmy teacher who'd tried to seduce her. He'd talked about 'Freud's Iceberg'. She thought that's what he called it. How did that go? There was the tip of the iceberg; that which was on the surface, the things people saw and noticed in the moment. There was the tidal zone, the area that was partly obscured, partly exposed as the waves sloshed by; that was everything one could readily remember. Last there was the submerged iceberg; all the things experienced but forgotten, trapped and filed away someplace. Those things he said could be brought back with the proper cues. Well she had the pictures, she had the old toys, and she had her mom; why couldn't she pull the stuff back up?

She was going mad! She couldn't sleep. She couldn't think. She couldn't remember. But what had impelled her to want to build a gazebo? Why not a shed, a screened in porch, hell a merry go round, anything but a gazebo? Had the idea for a gazebo been some long lost messenger from the past crying to get out; fighting its way back to the surface? 

Why had Cal been so ready to build it, and even pay for it? Was there something pulling at him too? 

Everything made sense! Nothing made sense!

One thing stood starkly clear! She loved Cal. She loved him with all her heart, and all her soul, and all her might. He was everything to her.

What had he said at the little graveyard? She remembered, he'd said,' What you think I saved your life or something?' She didn't know it then, but she knew it now. Once upon a time he had saved her life. Right now he was Cal Burkheim, dolt, clumsy, caring, lovable Cal, but once he'd been Prince Cal, hero, guardian, and protector. Did he know any of this? How was she going to tell him? Should she tell him? And what prompted him to bring up the 'did I save your life' thing anyway?

Eventually Maureen would find sleep. She'd dream. Once fast asleep, her deepest memories would come flooding back. In her dreams during those darkest hours of the morning just before dawn, all her child's memories would come streaming back. Regrettably, the brain chemical that affords long term memory retention isn't produced for dreams. She'd awaken, sort of remember, but as somnolence died, so would the memories.




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 06



Tired, nervous, ill at ease, uncertain; Maureen would fix that first pot of morning coffee. Cal would be there. He'd expect her help.

Cal hit the sack, but sleep was an evil gnome, enticingly near but always minutes away. Why couldn't he get to sleep? Thoughts of his grandfather, his mother, Maureen kept churning through his muddled brain. 

Jared never so much as asked a single question about Maureen. He acted like he'd known her longer and better than Cal did. He'd jumped at the chance to hand over rings he'd hoarded for forty years. Cal never even knew the damned rings existed until that night; yet the old man couldn't wait to see they'd get to Maureen. One would have thought his grandpa had picked Maureen out for him; saying here son, you should take this one. And how did he come to know Maureen's mom?

Cal was confused. He was a life long loner, an isolate, a lone wolf! Girls were like poison. Getting dates had become a lost cause long before he'd even graduated from high school. Yet this one appeared out of nowhere; like she was some Aphrodite, she just coasted in on this frothy wave, sat down at the bar, and said, 'here I am'.

It was an incredible set of circumstances. He had fallen for her; of course he'd fallen for her, she was this beautiful black haired green eyed big breasted, gorgeous fairy queen who just dropped in out of nowhere, grabbed a frog, and said, 'you're my prince'. 

There was a lot that was very unsettling about the whole thing. It was like it was all staged! Was everybody playing a mean joke on him? Would he wake up in the morning and his grandpa, this wonderful girl, her mom, and all his friends be standing around laughing and yelling, 'gotcha?'

Cal rolled up and sat on the side of the bed. This couldn't be happening to him! He drove an old truck, wore wrinkled shirts, never had a real girlfriend, now he was going to marry the most magnificent girl he'd ever met! He checked the clock by the bed. It was 5:30. 

He reached down for his pants, got out his cell phone and punched in Maureen's phone number. He let it ring. This was stupid he knew. 

Maureen woke up, heard her cell phone ring. Who could that be? She walked over to her bureau and flipped open the lid. It was Cal! She spoke, "Cal?"

He answered from the other end, "Maureen, are you sure you love me?"

She was floored. He must be having a panic attack or something. She answered, "You're a real asshole aren't you. Of course I love you."

He rushed to talk, "I'm sorry. I got scared. I was afraid you might have changed your mind or something."

She quieted him down, "I haven't changed my mind. I love you very much. You're all I think about. Now go back to sleep." She hung up. She suddenly got very worried.

Cal felt better, but he knew wasn't getting any more sleep. He was too nervous. 

Maggie gave him her paw. He scratched her head, "We're going to Maureen's today."

Maggie was pushing hard against him; she wanted to climb in bed with him. "OK" he said, he let her climb on the bed. 

Andrea sat up, "Who was that?"

Maureen answered her mother, "That was Cal."

"What did he want?"

"He wanted to know if I still loved him."

Andrea pulled the covers down for her daughter, "This is all new to him. He gets all his confidence from you. Why don't you call him back, tell him to come over now. I'll sleep upstairs."

Maureen went back over and got her cell phone, "This is crazy." She punched in Cal's number. She'd get him; she needed him to be with her anyway.



A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 07



Maureen's mom had walked her daughter through her earliest years; her injury, those awful first months when she nearly died, the little boy who was her companion and savior, their separation, and her subsequent surgeries and therapy. Maureen listened at first with polite condescension, but her patronizing demeanor soon evaporated; fading into disbelief, then confusion and denial; and last to appreciation, an appreciation tempered with profound feelings of guilt and grief, guilt over her own insensitivity and grief for her mother's suffering. She'd just never realized the worry and concern she'd put her mother through, nor had she understood the meaning, or power, of selfless love, unrequited devotion.

Subsequent to her mother's revelations Maureen struggled with her missing early years, and with how to introduce Cal to their shared history. She didn't doubt Cal; only her own inadequacies.

Across town Cal had found his grandfather waiting for him with the only personal treasures the old man had; his long deceased wife's wedding and engagement rings. The discovery of the rings, his grandfather's more than casual willingness to see they went to Maureen, and his grandfather's very obvious approval of a girl Cal had mistakenly believed the old man hardly knew caused considerable confusion. Cal knew he was socially backward, often unaware of what was going on around him, but more and more it seemed like he was standing in the eye of hurricane; a storm whose force he neither appreciated nor understood.

Later that night, maybe 5:00 a.m., unable to sleep, and unraveling emotionally, he called Maureen. His insecurities had caught up with him. How could anyone as beautiful, intelligent, and dynamic as Maureen fall for a fool, a buffoon, like him? He called. She was reassuring, but he still couldn't get to sleep. He was lying there in bed, Maggie slobbering on his pillow, still worrying.

Not that many days before sleep had never been a phantom; his head would hit the pillow, and he'd be out till morning. That was before Maureen, since then he'd started thinking. He thought about the future, his future, his future with her, having kids, thinking about becoming a husband, a father, actually becoming something. What if she did change her mind? It was driving him to distraction; when a person who never had anything and had no expectations of having anything found they had something, someone, then life became more complicated. 

He felt like he was watching, or living, the movie The Wizard of Oz; in one scene everything was black and white, no color, no focus, no vibrancy; then in the next scene everything was in vivid color, alive, purposeful, and filled with meaning. It scared the shit out of him!

Cal's cell phone rang. He opened it. It was Maureen. Oh no, she's calling back, she's changed her mind after all. 

He tremulously spoke into the phone, "Hello?" 

"Cal, why don't you come on over right now? My mom's upstairs. I know you're a little scared." He could almost hear her purring, "I don't want you to be upset."

What a relief! Great! He answered, "I'll be right there." He hesitated, "It is OK?"

She answered, "It's OK. I need you."

"OK," he said. He hung up the phone and looked over at Maggie, "Come on girl."

The drive back to Maureen's was quiet, traffic was light, and he got there in no time. Walking up the porch to the door he knocked.

Maureen was waiting for him; she opened the door before he'd finished his first knock. She had been desperate to see him anyway. His late night call only convinced her of her need to have him underfoot that much more; like a puppy dog, she thought, he might wander off and get hit.

She was wearing a single piece nightie. A pale pink baby doll, empire waist, low cut neck line, short capped sleeves, and a hemline that barely reached the tops of her thighs. She was barefoot, had no make up on, and her hair was in two pig tails. Cal found himself in an immediate state of agitation. God, she always looked so damn beautiful.

He told her, "You always look so pretty. Every time I see you I ask myself how I got so lucky."

Maureen had deliberately changed into this particular nightie knowing it would have just the kind of effect it had. She liked the looks he gave her, and she liked his compliments. She'd been complimented by others, but she knew his comments were always sincere. At the moment though she wasn't taking any prisoners, "Well you sure look awful. You need a shave. Have you slept at all? And I smell you." 

He blushed and then stammered, "I, I, I'm sorry. Oh, I mean."

She reached up with her right hand and pulled his head down so she could reach him. She kissed him, then smiling, "I want you to look haggard when I'm not around, and I want you to be sweaty, then I'll know you're worried."

He kissed her back and tried to pull her closer but she wouldn't let him, "Maureen I'm sorry I woke you up. I got scared."

She took his hand and walked him inside, "Come on over to the sofa. We'll talk." 

He followed her in and they sat down beside each other. She asked, "OK, so what's the problem?"

"Oh it's nothing I guess. I just got scared."

She asked, "Yeah, like of what?"

He put his right arm on the top of the couch above her shoulders, and put his left hand in her lap, "A few days ago I was a happy nobody. I worked, built a few things, had a dog, but that was it. I was happy. I wasn't anything or anybody. Then I met you. You said, and I believe you, that you loved me. We made love. You took me over, bought me stuff, took me out to the tavern, we announced marriage plans. When I'm around you I feel important, when I'm not, well, I'm just not. Don't you see?"

Maureen saw and understood. She felt the same way, but wanted him to say it, "Say it again, just what you want me to see."

He responded, "Oh Maureen the other day I was nothing; I was nobody, going nowhere. Then suddenly I'm somebody; I have a life, a real life, somebody loves me, you love me. Sometimes I get scared. Look Maureen. You're pretty, smart, popular, you have everything. What would somebody like you want with a nobody like me? You see don't you?"

Maureen was glad they could get it all out in the open again. They'd had this conversation before. He lacked confidence, in himself and in her, "No Cal I don't see. I mean I don't see what you see."

He looked at her with a confused expression.

She went on, "Haven't we had this discussion before? Remember the night of the fireworks? I do. I remember how uncomfortable you were, but you let me lie on you. I got to be relaxed and comfortable while you were miserable. You hardly knew me. Heck Cal, you knew me as the girl who'd hustled you at pool, and you still were looking out for me at your own expense."

He started to say something, "But I..."

She stopped him, "Shut up. Look, you're the blind fool of the century. You're a wonderful good looking man," She had to put her fingers over his mouth to make sure he didn't say anything.

"You are good looking. You're very handsome, and people like you, not because you're handsome, but because you're good, you're sincere, you're kind, and you have a really nice smile." 

He started to interrupt again, Maureen I..."

She held her hand over his mouth, "I said shut up. Look, no one knows more about you than I do. You haven't got a clue about what I know. I love you. Look here. I love you Cal." She took his left hand and placed it on her left breast, "Hear it? That's my heart. You've stolen my heart."

He felt her breast. He could feel her heart beating, "I'm sorry I know I'm being stupid."

She took his right hand down from the sofa and put it in her lap, on her vagina, she smiled, "Look what you did for me."

He asked, "What was that?" 

She was really grinning, "You gave me your cherry. I took your virginity. Do you know what that means to me, to any woman?"

He shook his head.

She pushed his right hand further down between her legs to her uncovered pussy, "Whenever I go into a bar. If I ever walk into a tavern I'll know for sure no woman will ever be able to look at me and say, 'I had your man.' I'm going to be the only woman you'll ever have." 

He squeezed her mons. He leaned forward and started kissing her. He interjected, "Isn't that what the man's supposed to say?"

She bit his lip with her teeth, "You can't handle a little role reversal?"

He ignored the bite and kept kissing at her, "With you? Never!"

She kissed him back; then she asked, "Have you ever wondered about the scars on my legs?"

He stopped kissing her, "Yes, a little, but I didn't want to pry."

She started unzipping his fly, "Go ahead; pry."

He asked, "You don't mind?"

"Ask," was her retort. By then she had his belt undone and was busily pulling his pants down.

He kissed her on the lips, then her nose. He nuzzled her ear; he used his left hand to squeeze the top of her puss, "What happened to your legs Maureen?"

She'd gotten his boxers down and was holding his thing in her hand. It was already very hard, "I don't' remember really, but my mom told me."

Cal kept nuzzling her neck. He moved his right hand under her nightie and started to gently rub her back.

Carefully squeezing and releasing his man thing she went on, "When I was four a part of a tree fell on me. It almost killed me. My mom had to go to work to get extra money for the medical bills. They brought in a special nurse who took care of me. I was really sick for years. I had several operations, years of therapy."

Cal was listening, but he was also involved with her back, her neck, and with trying not to be too aware of what her hand was doing, "Gee you're twenty-four now. That was twenty years ago."

She added, "You would have been six."

He sat back. A shiver had just gone up his spine and he couldn't quite explain it. He leaned on his side, "That's why the guy called you gimp." 

She answered, "Yes."

He leaned forward and hugged her close at the same time. He kissed her again. He leaned up a little and kissed the top of her head. He said something, more to himself than to her, "I would have been six."

He took his two hands, put one each on one of her arms and gently pushed her away. He looked at her closely. His eyes sort of drifted off into space, "You were four when you got hurt, and I was six."

Maureen got off the sofa and knelt on the floor in front of Cal. She squirmed in between his legs, and got her face close to his penis. She took the tips of her fingers and started to lightly rub up and down his shaft. 

He didn't try to stop her. He looked down and saw she was staring up at him, "Where did it happen?"

Maureen was feeling either very brave or foolhardy. She leaned her face up close to his penis and kissed the end of it. It tasted kind of salty. She didn't especially like it, but she didn't move her head away. She was curious and wanted to try the fellatio thing; besides, she figured, it might reassure him.

She told him, "It happened right here in the front yard."

Cal was feeling really excited. Her touches, and that kiss went right to his head, his brain too, but he was trying to think. In spite of what she was doing and how it was making him feel he pulled her back up on the sofa, "There aren't any trees out there."

Maureen tried to squirm back down on the floor but Cal wouldn't let her, "My dad had them cut down."

She managed to squirm back down so that she was facing his penis again. Instead of fighting with her he slid down too. They were side by side on the floor, leaning against the sofa in front of the television. She tried to lie flat to get at his thing, but he wouldn't let her. He held her up.

Cal said, "Let's just sit here on the floor; watch one of the early movies and cuddle a few minutes."

She kept her hand on his penis, but looked over at him, "You don't want me to do you?"

He replied, "Yeah I really do, but I want to cuddle first. I know it sounds stupid. Nobody's ever done what you're doing, but I think I want to cuddle; cuddle and think a little too." He kissed her head again, "I'm sorry, but I'm feeling kind of funny, like eerie funny."

She reached around and got the remote, "What do you mean?"

He answered, "I don't know. I just feel funny, like something about déjà vu. I don't know."

Maureen knew she'd sent some pretty strong signals. She wanted to do something to please him, but he didn't seem to want any kind of sex at the moment, "OK, let's see what's on. You can think about your déjà vu."

He took the remote, turned on the television and found the channel with the oldie movies. There was something that looked like it came out of the 1930's; something pretty typical for the channel that was on. He saw it was some old musical, "Let's watch this."

She squeezed in a little closer, laid her hand on his really hard really erect penis, "You sure you don't want?"

He moved her hand, "I do, but I want to think too."

She let her hand rest on his thigh, "OK."

Together they cuddled up and started to watch Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire dance. Neither knew who the actors were. It didn't matter anyway; they were both fast asleep in ten minutes. 

Andrea got up a few minutes after Cal and Maureen drifted off. She got cleaned up, dressed for work, and quietly made her way downstairs. She saw them stretched out on the floor beside the sofa sound asleep, she wondered what had happened. Maureen's nightie was up around her waist. Cal's pants were off and lying in a heap. It didn't look like anything had happened though. Andrea slipped out the back door without making any coffee. She'd stop at the convenience store on the way in. The kids needed their sleep.

Maureen awakened first and saw by the clock it was a little after 9:00 a.m. Cal was still sound asleep. The curtains were drawn so it was still pretty dark in the living room. She decided to complete what she'd started earlier. She'd never done it before, but she'd read about it and seen a scene where it happened on a U-tube video once. 

She carefully worked her way down to his penis. She touched it first with her finger tips. Almost immediately it started to get big. She used her finger nails and carefully stroked up and down the sides as it grew. She took her tongue and licked the end; still salty. She kissed it. Brother did that make it get big! She heard Cal sigh. His thing looked really big; she tried to estimate how big it was, maybe seven inches or so. She knelt beside his penis and put her mouth over the top. She felt it get even bigger. She wondered how big it could get. She knew it was big because she remembered how big it felt when it was inside her. 

Cal squirmed.

She thought she better be careful. She wanted to see how big she could make it get. She gently kissed the end again. She put her mouth right at the end and sucked on it just a little tiny bit. It was still getting bigger, but more getting harder than bigger. She leaned around just a tiny tad and tried kissing it on the side.

She felt Cal's hand on her head. He whispered, "What are you doing?"

She whispered back, "Don't move."

He started to squirm a little.

She whispered again, "If you move before I'm done I'll bite it off."

Cal stopped moving.

Maureen could feel his legs tense up, but knew he wouldn't be moving. She held it in her hands and put her whole mouth over the top. She used her tongue and started to swirl it around and around the end of his thing. She felt it get a little harder, but it got a whole lot hotter too. There were curly hairs all down at the bottom and in her fingers. She thought there might be one in her nose, it itched.

She leaned back a little to look at it. Brother it was huge, and pink. She took her right hand and squeezed his scrotum. She leaned back down and put his thing back in her mouth. She swirled her tongue some more and sucked on the end again. 

Cal kept very still. He knew she wouldn't bite him, but he was still afraid to move, afraid of what was about to happen.

Maureen pushed down a little further on his thing; then something totally uncalled for occurred.

Cal couldn't help it. He'd been ripe the night before, and even riper when he got to Maureen's earlier that morning, and her touching him when they were talking had made it even worse. Better men than him wouldn't have been able to hold out as long as he had. He ejaculated.

Maureen had her head pressing down on his penis. She probably had close to three inches of it in her mouth when he fired off. All this hot wet stuff went flooding down her throat. Maureen jerked back coughing and choking. As she jerked back more of the white sticky stuff, semen, came squirting out all over her face and chest. She was choking with a mouthful of semen down her throat and another mess of it all over her face, chest and breasts. It was awful!

Maureen sat back on her heels. Kneeling beside Cal she kept choking and spitting, "That stuff's awful!"

Cal sat up, "I' sorry. I tried to stop you."

Maureen was up and heading for the bathroom, "That's OK. Get dressed and put on some coffee."

Cal felt a little embarrassed, but also really great. He'd never shot off like that before, and he liked it. He liked it a lot! As she fled to the bathroom he replied, "I'll get it."

Maureen came out a few minutes later, fully dressed and apparently none the worse for wear., She asked as she sat down to a piping hot cup of coffee, "Are we getting anything done on the gazebo today?"

Cal got his clothes back on after a quick coffee and both went outside; neither had much to say. Maureen was a little embarrassed by her earlier sexual peccadillo and because she wanted to watch Cal as he started to process what she'd told him about her legs. 

Cal had a lot on his mind. It seemed like every time something got cleared up more showed up. Maureen had been very reassuring; his trust in her love had been validated a hundred times over, but there was the problem of her legs. Her legs weren't exactly the problem; it was more the idea of her legs, the circumstances around her injuries that had raised new flags. Things from his childhood seemed to be coming back into focus. It was like looking at something in the mud; if only the water would stay calm he'd be able see better. It was a weird situation. 

He thought, if he got to work, he'd work it all out. Together he and Maureen started the flooring. Using 6X1 planks they started nailing the flooring to the frame. Maureen was a big help hauling planks over. He began with the middle most plank, and started hammering others side by side outward. It wasn't especially hard work, but he had to use a big screwdriver to pry each plank tight against its predecessor before nailing. He did this to minimize the inevitable spaces that would emerge as the wood shrunk with time. By 1:00 they had the flooring on. He'd made a minor mistake by starting in the middle since as he worked his way outward he realized the outermost boards wouldn't be exactly six inches wide. He had to cut a slightly narrower plank for each side as they approached the out most edges. It worked out though, and pretty soon the flooring was done. Using his circular saw he cut away the ends, leaving about an inch lip all the way around.

Using metal cleats he laid out where the railing would go. Originally he planned to have the railing rise directly from the foundation beams, but thought better of it. He thought the whole thing would be better if the railing was inset slightly, maybe six inches. He used cleats to provide the baseline for the vertical beams, then he cut the 2X4's for the horizontal pieces, tied everything together with Maureen's help, and then cut 2X2's and nailed them to the horizontal boards. He used the width of his level, perhaps three inches, as the distance separating each vertical 2X2. By 4:00 they had the rail up and finished.




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 07



It was late, but with Maureen's help steadying, he used a ladder and tied in the vertical 4X4 railing beams at the top with 2X6's. He realized there could be some problem with stability regarding the railing at the floor and also rafters that would follow the next day, but he thought he had a solution to those problems that would work.

The last thing they did was construct the three steps that would enable them to climb from the gravel drive to the gazebo floor. With Maureen again helping, he got the hand railing for the steps done too. He'd thought he might be able to build a small door either at the bottom or the top, but realized neither was practical. 

He checked his watch. It was 6:00, and he was bushed. He'd done a lot of sawing and one hell of a lot of nailing. He knew the next day would be even harder, because the ceiling eaves were next, followed by cutting the 4X8 plywood sheathing to fit at the proper angles, then the shingles. He hoped he could get the roof framed the next day. The plywood and shingles would have to wait for the weekend.

Cal sat down on the bottom step and looked around at what they'd done. It was OK, not great, but OK. He saw the mistakes he'd made, a couple of missed angles, the mistake with the flooring, one of the floor joists hadn't been quite level. He could tell, though he doubted Maureen could.

He sat there on the step and watched Maureen as she took a folding chair and set it on the floor inside railing. She just sat there watching him, while he watched her. She had something on her mind or more like she looked like she was waiting for something, like he was supposed to say or do something. He couldn't help it, but he felt that way too, like he was supposed to jump up and say or do something. He just couldn't put his finger on what that something was.

He said, "There's something about this..." He couldn't seem to finish the thought. 

She asked, "What's wrong?"

He responded, "I don't know." He shrugged, "I'll figure it out later." Then he remembered he had something he needed to show her. He felt in his pocket; they were there.

Maureen was watching him, wondering when or if he'd remember. Things had started to become a little clearer in her head. She kind of remembered the old gazebo. She thought, watching Cal, she remembered the little boy. She still wasn't sure. She watched Cal. She wondered what would happen if she showed him the little toys, not the two with the names, the other two.

Cal told her, "I have something I want to show you." 

She grinned salaciously, "I've seen it already."

He blushed, "Not that, something else."

She got up and walked over to where he was, "OK, what have you got?"

Cal reached in his pocket and pulled out the rings. He thought this isn't the best place to do this, "What do you think of these?"

He held up the rings. At first Maureen didn't quite know what to think. She recognized their purpose, but she'd envisioned something a little more elaborate. She'd been thinking about maybe a one or two carat engagement ring. These things looked cheap. 

"Who's were they," she asked?

Cal immediately saw the look of disappointment wash over her. Of course, she wanted something really pretty, something bright, shiny, something upscale, something rich looking. She was young, she had her fantasies; she traveled with a well accoutered crowd. She'd want the best. In fact, until these things had shown up, he'd planned on the best. Cal was already ashamed of them. He put them back in his pocket. 

She asked again, "Who's were they?"

Cal answered, "Never mind. I didn't like them anyway."

Maureen asked again, "Whose rings did you show me?"

Cal answered, "Don't worry. It's not important."

That wasn't true. For Maureen those rings suddenly had become very important. She'd had a second to think. She knew where they came from, "They're your grandfather's."

Cal had successfully stowed them away, "He said to take a look at them. He didn't really want them out."

Maureen knew better. Her mother had told her, Cal just didn't know she knew, "Let me see them again."

Cal looked away, "That's OK. I had something else already picked out."

Maureen reached for his pocket, "I don't care. I want to see them again."

"You're sure?"

"Yes I'm sure."

He fumbled around and got them out again, "They were my grandmother's. She died having my mom. I never met her. She only wore them something like five years."

Maureen held them up to the light. They were old, ugly and cheap. They'd belonged to been Jared's wife. She remembered the picture of the five people. The picture Jared had taken; the picture with his daughter and little grandson. She barely knew him, but she knew that he was a lonely old man; getting these rings out was probably the only outgoing thing he'd done in twenty, maybe thirty years. She bet he'd wrestled with it too. She wished her mother was there. She'd talk this over with her.

Cal watched her, "We don't have to use these. I've got something much nicer in mind."

Maureen didn't know where to take this. She tried the engagement ring on. It was a tiny bit large, so was the wedding band, "They're both a little large. We'll have to have them cut down." 

"You don't have to accept them."

Maureen answered, "I know."

Cal didn't push it but still asked, "You're sure?"

Maureen held her hand out to get a better look, "I'm sure."

Cal said, "Well give them back, and I'll have them cut down and cleaned."

Maureen answered, "No I'll do it." 

He knew she didn't like them, "You don't like them. You're only doing it because they were my grandmother's."

Maureen looked him in the eye, "No. I don't like them. They're not at all what I thought I'd ever have. But they're what I'm going to have."

Cal was tripped up, "Why? I'll get you something really nice."

Maureen stared him down, "It's not about what I might like or not like. It's about what's right. You don't understand all of it yet, but I do."

Cal pleaded a little, "Maureen I want the best for you."

She answered brusquely, "I already have the best. I have you."

Cal just turned his head. He was confused again. That nagging sense something incomplete, something's left out, that gnawing feeling that he still didn't have all the facts kept creeping back in, "What did you mean, I don't understand it all."

Maureen was getting up, "I'm hungry and tired. Let's get a shower, order a pizza, and watch some television. Besides there's something coming up I want to tell you about, and I have something I want to show you too."

Cal knew when his allotted time was up, "OK."

They went inside. Maureen grabbed Cal by the arm and marched him back to her bedroom. She had a small bathroom off her bedroom, and it had a shower. 

"Come here," she said.

Cal walked over.

Maureen started taking his clothes off.

He resisted, "Hey, I can do this."

She responded, "I know, but I want to."

He stood stoically while she pulled his T-shirt off, unbuckled and dropped his pants and boxers, undid tied his shoes, pulled them off, and, while he used her shoulders to steady himself, let her pull off his socks. Having stripped him down to his birthday suit, Maureen turned on the water, adjusted it, handed him a bar of soap and wash cloth, "Inside." She pointed to the water.

Cal did as he was told.

While Cal showered Maureen took all his clothes and quietly walked them to the end of the yard and dumped them in the trash. She got back to her room just in time to see him getting out of the shower.

Cal looked around, "Hey where are my clothes?"

Maureen gave him an innocent look, "I don't know. Where did you put them?"

He cast around looking for his pants, "They were right here."

Maureen was leaning against her bedroom door, "Lost your clothes, huh."

He caught the expression on her face. He started toward her, "OK, give me my clothes."

Maureen, laughing, backed out of the bedroom, "I don't have your clothes. You lost them." 

Cal chased her into the kitchen and caught her by the refrigerator. He pulled her hands behind her back. Being much taller he was able to hover over her, "I said give me my clothes."

She squeezed down and leaned back, "I threw them away."

Still holding her hands behind her, he modified his grip so both her hands were restrained by the wrists at the small of her back with just one of his. He used his free hand to lift her chin, "Where did you hide my clothes?"

Maureen dropped down in an effort to escape but he was too strong and too quick.

He repeated, "Where are my clothes?"

"I threw them out."

"Out where?"

She twisted her head around as if to point to the trash can, "Out there."

Using his free hand he cupped her face and kissed her, "Go get them."

She kissed him back, "No, you get them yourself."

Cal looked outside at the trash can. He estimated the distance to be about forty maybe fifty feet. It was late, and the sun was weak. In another few minutes it would be dark. If he ran fast, grabbed the can and brought it back behind the unfinished gazebo he could probably fish out his dirty clothes and be back inside in less than two minutes. 

He looked at Maureen, "You're not lying?"

"Lying about what?"

"They're in the trash can."

Maureen couldn't believe his gullibility. Was he really going to try to run out there, get his clothes and run back? She told him, "Yeah they're in there, right on top."

Cal jumped up, ran out the door and started to sprint toward the trash can. As he stepped from the edge of the porch he heard the back door slam. 

"Oh shit!" Cal yelled as he turned only to see Maureen standing at the kitchen window laughing at him.

She yelled out the window, "You asshole! Wait out there while I get my shower." 

Cal watched as she turned and walked away from the window. He ran back up on the porch and tried the door. Damn! It was locked! She'd locked him out, and he didn't have a stitch on. He started laughing; she'd tricked him maybe, then maybe not. He noted the kitchen window was wide open. He stealthily slithered over to the window and peered inside. Yep, she'd gone off to take her shower. 'OK,' he thought, 'we'll see.' He quietly climbed up and lifted himself through the kitchen window. As he slipped down over the sink and onto the kitchen floor he could hear the shower water running.

Maureen laughed all the way to the bathroom. She loved this. She'd played a mean trick on her fiancé. She looked down at the two rings on her finger; yes she could call him that. She walked in the bathroom, turned on the shower. Let him skulk around outside a while. She'd let him in later, then they could make up. Maureen climbed in and started to shampoo her hair.

Cal slipped over to the bedroom door. Maureen was happily showering away. Still nude he quietly walked back to the living room. What was he going to do? He had to get even. He had to punish her. He looked around and found an old hairbrush. He plopped down on the sofa, put the brush under the cushion, took the remote and turned on the television, but kept the sound on mute. 

Maureen shampooed her hair twice, scrubbed herself from stem to stern with an aromatic soap she was sure he'd like. Once the water was off she checked her pussy, shaved it again and rubbed in a comforting balm. She combed out her hair and tied it off in a long pony tail. She tied it off with one of her black ribbons. She found the pretty nightie she'd had on the night before. Moistened it a little and used her blow dryer to freshen it up. Slipping it on, she checked herself in the mirror. He was going to love this; she was certain her apology would be well received. 

Excited and feeling extra romantic Maureen slipped from her bedroom and stepped toward the kitchen. What? The television was on! She glanced over. Cal was on the sofa watching the television without any sound.

He smiled at her, "Hi Maureen."

She smiled back. She was filled with love and romantic excitement. He'd found a way to get in; this was better than her letting him back in. She skipped over to the sofa and plopped down beside him, she made sure he saw her boobies bounce as she did so.  

Maureen knelt on the sofa and wrapped her arms around Cal. She leaned up and gave him a truly warm and loving kiss on his cheek, "I'm sorry I locked you out."

Cal smiled back at her. He was going to enjoy the next few moments, "That's all right."

She curled up as close as she could get, "I love you Cal Burkheim, and when we're married I'm going to make you so happy." She was really feeling cuddly and lovable. She sort of giggled. She took her fingers and tickled around his face.

He whispered into her hair, "And I love you too, but you know what?"

She slithered around and sat on his naked lap. She took both hands and held his face up close to hers. She deliberately breathed into his face so he could smell her breath. She nibbled on his lips, "No what?"

He gave her a most loving generous smile, "You've been a bad girl."

She pressed her head up against his cheek, "I know. I'm sorry. I'm so ashamed."

He pressed a kiss on her forehead, "Don't you think you should be punished?"

Maureen luxuriated in his warmth. His thing was real hard. He wanted to play some kind of kissing punishment game. She bet if she straddled his legs he could go up inside her, but she didn't want to do that, not yet anyway. She swiveled around and pressed her breasts against his chest, "Oh punish me Cal. I've been bad."

It was the request he wanted. With electrifying speed he turned on Maureen. He flipped her on her stomach, whisked the hair brush from beneath the cushion and delivered a bristling swipe across her naked cheeks.

"Ouch!" Maureen cried out at the first crack of the brush, but before she could offer another complaint a second, a third, and then a fourth thrashing blow came crashing down on her beautiful pink ass.

In shock, unexpected pain, and disbelief Maureen cried out, "Cal stop, that hurts!"

Cal threw the brush aside in favor of the palm of his hand. He did so for two reasons; one he wanted to leave hand prints on those magnificent fleshy hillocks, and second by using his hands he'd know how much it really hurt. He delivered four more slashing blows with his left hand. Her beautiful tender pink ass cheeks were turning a brighter even more vivid crimson.

Maureen's surprise quickly gave way to a brief spurt of anger, but the blows were so hard, so rapid, and so excruciatingly painful her anger dissolved in a wave of pain and genuine hurt.

Maureen pleaded, "Cal stop, it hurts!"

Cal listened and he knew she wasn't kidding. He could see the bright red hand marks on her lovely ass. He delivered one harder slap to each rosy red cheek, "Are you sorry?"

Maureen was crying. Her whole body shook through her tearful entreaties, "Oh Cal, please stop. You're hurting me." 

The naked and excited Cal wasn't quite finished. He used his hand to flick each cheek more softly. He knew the softer flick probably hurt just as much, but the overall pain would be significantly less, "I asked you if you were sorry."

Maureen was really crying. It had stopped being fun some seconds before. She was unashamedly awash in real tears and breathy sobs, "Oh Cal you're hurting me. Please don't hit me anymore."

He relented, "I'll stop, but you've got to promise to never lock me outside naked ever again."

She was weeping and sobbing. Her ass hurt terribly, "Oh I won't I promise. I'm sorry."

He stopped immediately. He made her stay on her stomach on his lap, "Don't move." He leaned down and kissed each tender cheek. He felt bad about the spanking, but good too. He'd enjoyed it.

Maureen whimpered, "You hurt me."

He leaned over and kissed the back of her neck, "You want to see the damage?"

She answered, "No."

He told her, "I think you should. Your ass is totally pretty."

"No, I don't want to see."

He moved to get up and helped her up too, "Come on. I want you to."

Cal half carried half walked Maureen to the bathroom. He turned her around so she could see her ass in the mirror. It was a magnificent red, a brilliant scarlet. 

Maureen looked at her cherry red ass. She twisted first this way, then that. She arched her back and turned to see every flaming hand print. She touched each beautiful fleshy hemisphere. They felt fiery hot, and they hurt. It was humiliating, but exciting. It was like the pain from her buttocks had rippled inside and through her womb stirring heated sensations never experienced before. It was exhilarating but unpleasant at the same time. Cal spanking her was something she'd long remember as painful and pleasurable, but also something she'd never want to experience again. 

In the bathroom Cal found a bottle of balm, "Come on back in. Let me rub away some of the pain."

Maureen followed him back in the living room. She was still sobbing and sniffing. It still hurt. She whimpered again, "You hurt me Cal. That was really mean."

He started rubbing the ointment on her ass, "I'm sorry. I guess I got a little excited, but gosh your ass looks really great all red like this." He kept wiping it with the soothing salve.

Her eyes were red and tear stains marred her pretty face, "Promise you'll never do that again."

He responded, "I don't know. That was fun."

She tried to turn around, "Cal!"

He made her lie back on her stomach, "No I promise, I'll never ever spank you ever again. Next time I'll make you stand in the corner."

Maureen had her thumb in her mouth, her head lying sideways on his lap, right next to his very erect penis. The tears were gone, but she felt very unhappy, "OK."

Cal stopped adding ointment and moved her so her rear end was fully on his lap. He started caressing her ass cheeks. He leaned down, took his fingers and parted her rosy reds to expose the crease of her asshole. It looked beautiful. He moved his head down and kissed it, right in its deepest center; the very heart of her anal passage. It was pink, clean, soft, and delicious! He kissed it again. He licked it with his tongue.

Maureen made a simpering sound and squirmed a little, but otherwise made no attempt to move.

He kept his mouth close to her asshole and kissed it again, and then again, "God I love you Maureen. I love everything about you, your mind, your personality, your sweet tender heart; I even love your ass. I especially love your ass." He kissed it again.

She carefully spun around and down so that the back of her head was in his lap, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure what?"

"It's something I want you to do."

"Not go outside naked."

She pushed her face into his abdomen, roughly where his navel was. The back of her head was pushing his penis down, "Nothing like that."

"OK, I'll do anything, just tell me."

She took her mouth and blew into his stomach making the sound of someone who was expelling gas, "There's a dance at the country club this Saturday night." She glanced up and saw his facial expression change from relaxed and happy to tense and worried.

He said, "You want to go?"

"She responded, "I want us to go."

"You know I can't dance."

She softly chided, "It's not going to be a rock and roll thing. It's mostly for older people, so there will be lots of slow dancing, waltzing, fox trots and stuff."

He took his right hand and fondled her hair, "I don't know any of that stuff."

She gently bit his stomach, "I'll teach you."

He kept fiddling with her hair. He took his left hand and slowly started rubbing it over her stomach, "I guess I better learn how to do that stuff anyway."

She kept pinching his tummy with her teeth; she was trying to find a way to get her right hand down to where his penis was. She could feel it was getting hotter, and she wanted to play with it, "Yeah we'll need to know how to do those dances at our reception."




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 07



He was rubbing her tummy, tickling the nape of her neck, and trying to figure out a way to lean close enough to kiss her, "We'll need to know all those dances if we become members of the country club."

She stopped kissing his stomach, "We can't afford that."

He did manage to lean far enough. He whispered into her mouth as he kissed her, "Of course we can. I know what it costs. I might even take up golf."

Maureen eyes perked up, "I'm good at golf."

"There," he said, you've got double work; teaching me golf, and how to do all the dances."

Maureen turned her head a little, "Cal I have a confession to make."

He figured that, "Oh really? What?"

"I only want to take you to the country club to show everybody up. I want to show you off. I mean I want them to see you with me and get jealous."

He kissed her again, "Good, they'll see me and really get jealous because I'll have you."

She giggled, "You are such a jackass."

He kissed her again, and then again, "But I'm your jackass; your jackass forever and ever."

She leaned up, it hurt her behind a little but she still managed it, "That's right! You're mine and don't you forget it!" 

She nestled in a little tighter, "You hungry?"

He held her tight and close, "No I want to make love."

She whispered, "Come on let's go to bed."

He got up first, picked her up, and started carrying her into the bedroom. He thought to himself how much he liked carrying her, how much he liked having her in his arms, how he felt like she needed to be protected and coddled because she was so delicate. He thought that, and as he thought, it was like some voice was whispering something in his mind's ear, something about that being his job. It was that damn déjà vu thing again.

He carried her to the bed and laid her down. She did look delicate, fragile, even helpless a little. He noticed her scars, those long striated white lines. She was so perfect; his perfect person, definitely someone who needed protection. She needed to be pampered and spoiled all the time. He was glad he was there to do it.

"I love you,' he whispered.

She replied, "You're my prince, my Prince Cal."

He tensed. He thought where did that come from? He'd heard that before! What's going on?



A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 08



Cal had Maureen's right hand in his left. He led her back to the bedroom. He wasn't wearing anything. She was wearing the same cute little nightie she'd worn earlier. It just covered the very tops of her thighs, then it plunged low in the front giving him a scenic view of her large breasts. He wanted to make love some more; but he wanted to do other things too, he wanted to keep talking, he wanted to cuddle, he wanted to fondle those deliciously soft but firm orbs, he wanted to feel himself inside her, mostly, though, he just wanted to hold her as close as he could, squeeze her tightly, and wrap his arms around her.

There was something else going on he didn't understand, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to. Her remarks about her legs, how young she was when it happened, her long period of convalescence, and the house; then there was the nurse, what was it about the nurse that bothered him so much?

He'd always had a protective, a proprietary, streak. When he was young he wanted to help other people, take care of sick animals, look out for the littler kids at school. He was no hero, but he resented bullies. There had been a younger kid, a boy in a lower grade who'd run afoul of an elementary school gang; one of the many little gangs who always managed to find one kid they could torment. He'd stood up for the kid and ended up getting his own ass kicked. He never talked about much of anything with his grandfather, but Jared had told him after he'd gotten whipped it was probably for nothing. His grandfather had been right; the little kid he'd tried to protect ended up being a part of the same gang. The little kid ended up being one of the tormentors.

It didn't make much difference, he still kept sticking his neck out for weaker kids, and he still kept paying for it. He remembered how it finally ended; it ended when his best friend Warren had more or less adopted him. Warren was tough. He liked to fight. He liked to rough house, but he wasn't what you'd call a bully. 

Cal pulled the covers down on the bed. The white satin sheets hadn't been changed. He didn't think they would have. He saw the stains from the other night. There was no blood or anything like that, but the stains did look a little discolored. 

He sat down and pulled her on his lap, "Did I hurt you the other night?"

"Well yeah, but only a little and then only at first," was Maureen's response.

He pulled her close and nuzzled her neck, "I never want to hurt you."

"It wasn't that bad, only a little at the very beginning." She fluffed his hair, "I liked the rest."

He kissed her. For a moment he remembered another girl. It had been in middle school, the eighth grade; no big deal actually, but he had gotten suspended for it. That girl's name had been Susan, Susan something, maybe Shettle. 

Their geography teacher was mad about something; something in the classroom, mad at some of the students. He'd started saying mean things to this girl; talking in ways that weren't illegal, but inappropriate all the same. He kept saying things to this girl about her demeanor and her attitude. He, Cal, remembered the girl's eyes filled with water. She was going to cry. He stood up and said something he shouldn't have to the teacher, something about yelling at him not her, that he could handle it, that she was just a little girl. The teacher sent him to the office where the vice principal suspended him for insubordination. He remembered not even knowing what insubordination meant.

His grandfather had to go to school to get him reinstated. Cal recalled how he was sure his grandfather was going to beat him. In hindsight that shouldn't have made any sense; his grandfather only went after him once, and that was about motorcycles. Still, he was convinced his ass was grass. He should have known better; he should have had more faith, his grandfather stood up for him, defended him, he even dared the vice-principal to do anything more about it. His grandfather had told the vice-principal Cal had only done what he'd been taught; that men took up for women, that the strong defended the weak. He didn't remember what the vice-principal said after that; he was too busy admiring his grandfather. That was when he realized how much he loved that old man.

He remembered there had been another girl too; a girl he'd seen once or twice in high school. The high school he attended had been a big one; it had more than two thousand kids from all over the county. Maureen might have gone there had she been well. 

The other girl had been a diminutive little thing, flat chested, good student, assigned to all the accelerated classes, certainly bound for a prestige university. Her name had been Laurie, Laurie Polhaus. Laurie had no idea who Cal was, but Cal knew. She was his half sister, the legitimate child of his biological father. 

Somewhere his real father had grown some balls. 

He must have gotten a second girl pregnant but had married the second one. Laurie was in the ninth grade when he was a senior so he guessed it made sense. His real father was certainly in college; old enough to take on the responsibility. 

Cal had made a point of crossing paths with her a couple times. He didn't want to face her down, tell her who he was; he only wanted to get a good look. He remembered looking into her face had been like staring into a mirror. He thought she saw it too. He knew as soon as he was close enough he couldn't say anything. She was so completely innocent; any confrontation would be senseless cruelty. Still he thought about her from time to time. 

Maybe some day they'd meet. He'd never tell her, but he thought it might have been nice to be her friend. It was a silly notion; a child's fantasy.

Cal shook himself back to the present. He squeezed Maureen in close, resting her head on his shoulder. He whispered in her ear, "I want you to feel safe. I'll never let anyone hurt you. No one will ever hurt you."

Maureen had been watching Cal; she knew he'd been off someplace. He had a rich fantasy life; maybe he was remembering? 

She kissed his ear, "I do feel safe with you." She felt his body react to that comment, not sexually but in a manly masculine way; his biceps felt like they got larger, his chest expanded, and yes, as far as the sex went, his penis did feel harder.

"Cal you know I love you, but I admire you too."

He twisted his head slightly to catch a glimpse of her face.

She turned slightly toward him, she saw his confused look. She put her right hand on his left cheek and looked down at his throat, "I liked the way you took on those bikers at the tavern, then again later when they caught you on the parking lot how you didn't run, and I'll never forget the guy's bloody nose after he called me gimp."

She took the hand she'd been using to stroke his cheek and held his head in place while she turned hers sideways and kissed him, "You're real special to me."

Cal slipped back on the bed; pulling her along with him. He rolled her over so she was beside him with her back against his chest. He nestled his head in her neck again, "Let's just cuddle awhile." 

She pressed back against him. She thought he must be the cuddliest guy on the planet. She liked it.

Cal pressed against her. The covers were in a heap at the bottom of the bed, but it was warm; they weren't needed. He took his left hand and found her right breast; reaching over the right one he found the left and started to gently squeeze her nipple in the palm of his hand. This way he had her left breast crooked in his elbow, while he had her right breast undergoing equally close scrutiny. He was able to press in against her neck and kiss that soft area behind and below her ear. She smelled so good; she felt so soft.

Maureen pushed back against him. His penis was big and hard; it was squeezing up inside and between her ass cheeks. She liked the way it felt; like he was inside her, but not inside her. His body was a hot furnace; he was so hot and dry, he was like her personal electric blanket. She could lie this way all night.

Cal was beginning to overheat. He needed some relief; using his hips he started wriggling his way down along the crevice between her rear cheeks till he got near the bottom. He slowly explored that hidden area between her vagina and rectum till he reached the bottom edge of her woman's cavern. He slowly, carefully, gently pushed upward and inward. He could feel she was hot and wet. He kept pushing.

Maureen immediately noticed Cal's attempts to shift his body. She knew what he wanted. She wanted it too. Using her hips she moved slightly; encouraging him without usurping his initiative. She felt him reach her cavern's entrance and pushed down slightly.

Together they pushed upward and downward till he'd reached nearly full penetration. He enjoyed her warmth and her all encompassing pressure around and against his penis. She delighted in his deep penetration, the fullness she felt when he was inside her. 

For Maureen it wasn't enough. She pulled forward, he slipped out, she spun around so they were facing each other, in an instant she reached down, found his manhood and guided it back inside. She felt him go nearly all the way in. 

They were lying sideways; he couldn't quite get all the way in, but it still felt wonderful. He didn't try to undulate or move around. He enjoyed the feeling of being in her, while also being able to hold her closely with both arms.

She pulled him as close as she was physically able. She didn't want any movement, only this continued nearness and the feeling his being so far inside. She squeezed against him as hard as she could. He was so hot, so dry, and he felt so strong.

Cal held her tightly. His hot dry body, her soft breasts pressing against his chest, her muscular legs, she wrapped them around his torso and made him feel completely alive, like a man. He knew he was deep inside, and he loved the sensations; sensations of heat, full scale pressure, and total connectedness. 

They lay together, face to face, no words were spoken, only hugging, squeezing, nibbling on ears, kissing necks, fondling and ruffing hair. For several minutes their dance of life continued; this was what it meant to be alive, to be in love. 

Cal held on for quite a while, but his need and her passion found the limits of his endurance. He ejaculated! 

She felt his semen pour up inside. It welled up deeply in her womb. She gave no thought of her body's sexually ripe condition; making babies, giving birth with Cal had become an important dream of hers. If this was the time, if this were the event that triggered a life inside her; then what better time could there be? She sighed.

He heard her breathy sigh. He instinctively knew her thoughts; their love, their bodies were destined to create a new life, maybe this was the moment. 

As Cal's manhood slowly drained away they continued to hold each other tightly. He kept cuddling and fondling her. He loved her so much. Slowly, side by side, deeply in love, holding one another in tight embrace they fell asleep. 

If the moment had passed for Cal, it hadn't for Maureen. She'd felt his hot wet manhood pour into her, but beyond the love and joy of the immediacy of that shared moment Maureen realized nothing. 

Yet even after his moment of triumph, her loving companion continued to hold her in his strong arms. He persisted in caressing, and washing her with his hot breath, plying her with soft whispered endearments, pressing his powerful grip on the back of her tender neck, using his fingers to continue to play with her hair. He used the warmth of his hot body to press against her receptive flesh; unconsciously impelling her to an increasing sense of womanly urgency. 

What followed was no sudden outflow of energy, no fierce tsunami of sexual excitement, but more significantly, Maureen experienced a warmer, more affectionate infusion, the fulsomeness of a purer love. There in bed amid the dying embers of his retreating manliness Maureen realized a deeper, more unfathomable, more profound sense of completion. Her tired body was deluged with the soft rippling rivulets of complete unalterable undiluted cascading waves of absolute sexual and emotional happiness. 

Was what Maureen had been an orgasm? Maybe; but the barren, organic, mundane character of that word would have been a tawdry degradation of the beauty of Maureen's singularly special experience.

++++++++++++

Only a few hours before Cal and Maureen's great moment of shared love, Maureen's dad, Travis, a man whose life and destiny had as to be yet be revealed, had received some disquieting news. 

Feeling tired and old Travis had sneaked back to town to visit the family doctor. His doctor looked him over and reiterated earlier warnings. Years of constant toil had taken an awful toll. 

The results were irrefutable; a once powerfully robust man had been so thoroughly degraded that unless he made some immediate and meaningful life style changes his worn and weary heart would no longer sustain him. He'd reached the limit of his anatomical reserves. 

Travis, like Andrea, had worked ceaselessly to provide for their daughter's needs. At first that meant covering huge medical bills, plus begging and borrowing to keep her in a stable home, and later, even as the medical bills continued to pile up, finding the money to send her to the best schools. Maureen's father was dying from exhaustion.

Several doctors had concurred. It was a treatable malady, but the treatments would be long term, they would require lengthy periods of inactivity, and they would mean a costly reallocation of limited financial resources. Travis and Andrea had invested heavily in quality medical coverage for their daughter, but there had been opportunity costs. They had skimped on their own medical protections. 

For Travis the choices were sober and stark. Could he, should he shift scarce resources away from the still heavy burden of long years of treatments for his innocent and deserving daughter, or should he conceal his difficulties, and defer his own day of reckoning perhaps long enough to satisfy the near completion of years of medical payments. Would there be time to satisfy old debts, and leave enough time for him to beat back this new debilitating threat? 

He wanted to live. He wanted to live to see grandchildren, but he had his daughter and his wife to think of first. He decided to postpone facing his personal Armageddon. 

++++++++++++

Cal awakened first the next morning. Sometime during the night he'd rolled over on his back. Maureen must have followed him. She was still asleep but her head was on his chest, her right hand resting between his legs, not touching his penis, but lying near it.

He had to go to the bathroom. He tried as best he could to move from under her and slide off the bed, but he still awakened her. 

Maureen looked up, half asleep, she yawned a comment, "I'm thirsty." As an after thought she added, "And I have to pee."

Cal jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. He had to drain his dragon! As he ran to the bathroom he caught himself up; dragon, then prince? What had he been dreaming?

Maureen caught up with him just as he was about to begin. She grabbed his shoulders, "Can I hold it?"

Cal glanced around incredulously, "What?"

"Can I hold your thing while you pee?'

He was doing all he could to keep from flooding out but conceded to her rather unusual request, "Sure."

Maureen got a hold of his penis and held it while his urine streamed out. She wasn't sure if she could tell if anything was happening. She certainly saw it coming out, but the idea of feeling some kind of surge or vibrating flow never materialized. She commented a little disappointed, "I didn't feel anything."

Cal's response was predictably different, "Well I sure did." 

She asked, "What did you feel?"

He smiled broadly, "I felt your hot hand holding my wangster."

She let the thing go; she started pushing him aside, but he wouldn't move, "Come on Cal, it's my turn."

He wouldn't move, "You're not done."

She was desperate; she had nothing to say. She looked at him like he was crazy.

"You forgot the shake."

She asked, "The what?"

"You always give it a shake to make sure everything's out."

Maureen reached for it again and shook it. Sure enough a few more drops of yellow fluid dribbled out.

Cal sighed, "There that's better."

Maureen pushed him away from the toilet, but didn't let him leave the bathroom. As she sat down on the throne and started to pee herself, she held him by his now limp penis. She reached around, grabbed a washcloth, wet it in the sink, soaped it, and gave his thing a quick scrub.

Cal didn't move. The soapy wipe was a little rough, but generally still felt good.

Maureen flipped the cloth over to the sink, and taking one hand held his penis while she put it in her mouth. With her mouth covering the head she started licking around it with her tongue. 

She started sucking on it; moving her mouth back and forth. It was flaccid, but she felt it started to get bigger there in her mouth.

Cal stood motionless. This was great; much more than he hoped.

She stopped, pushed him away, and spat, "Yuk, pee!" She pushed him farther away.

This all being sort of new, Cal was quick to apologize, "I'm sorry honey. Sometimes there's more; that's when I get an embarrassing spot on my pants. A lot of guys don't like to wear light colored khakis because of that. You may have noticed I hardly ever wear them."

Maureen decided to change the subject, "Let's take a shower together."

He was glad to shift gears too, but had a problem, "What do I wear afterward?"

She blew it off, "Oh don't worry. You can wear a towel a while. I'll get your stuff from the trash and wash them up."

She ignored any other objections he might have had. She got up and turned on the water for the shower. In a few second she had it running full steam. She climbed in first. He followed.

In the shower together she washed his back, his chest, and between his legs. She took an extra long time washing his penis, scrotum, and his ass. This was all new to her. It was a way to study and discover without being overt.

He washed her next. He gave her back a quickie, but took an extra long time washing her breasts, her pussy, and her rear end. As he finished with her backside she started to get out. 

He stopped, "Oh no you don't"

She turned around.

He said, "Let me wash your hair."

Maureen thought it was a good idea. She handed him the shampoo bottle, "OK."

He gave her hair a double washing. He loved her hair. He flooded it with shampoo, took the shower nozzle off and used it to rinse every strand thoroughly. He thanked somebody's initiative for installing one of those moveable long necked shower heads that came equipped with a length of metal hose. He was able to get his hands on every luscious curl. 

Finally they got out. She slipped on her robe and a pair of flip flops. Handing him a towel she said, "You wait in the kitchen while I get your clothes. 

She started for the kitchen, stopped, and turned around, "You won't lock me out?"

He laughed, "No I won't lock you out."

She scurried through the kitchen and on out the door.

Ignoring her instructions to go to the kitchen Cal went for the living room. Wrapped only in a towel he sat on the sofa, grabbed the remote, turned on the television, and found the hairbrush he'd used the night before to spank her. He'd noticed her rear end was still red from her paddling.

Maureen got back in. Loaded his clothes in the washer, put on a pot of coffee, and started for the bedroom again.

Cal admonished, "Bring in some coffee, and come here and sit down."

She saw the brush, "You said..."

He stopped her, "No, never again. I want to brush your hair."




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 08



She smiled brilliantly, "OK, then I have a comb and another brush for that." She ran to the bedroom.

Cal got up and went to the kitchen to fix the coffees.

Back in the living room Cal sat on the sofa, Maureen got on her butt between his legs facing the television; she plopped unceremoniously on the rug. He'd poured them each a coffee. It tasted good, invigorating.

She loved it when somebody did her hair. Girlfriends at college used to like to comb out her hair, and she couldn't remember her mother not making over it. Maureen knew she had good hair; thick, black, shiny, and wavy. People liked fiddling with it, and she exulted in having someone making over her anytime anyway.

He had a towel he used to gently pat her back and shoulders, "Now tell me if I hurt you."

"OK," she said.

He carefully slid the brush through her glistening thick rich raven tresses. Stopping for a second he held some in his hand and sniffed it. 

He loved her wonderful aroma. He took a big clump and brushed it against his face.

She used the remote and pretended not to be too engrossed in what he was doing. She found a morning talk show, "You want to watch this?"

He wasn't paying attention to the television, "Anything you want."

She sat perfectly still and let him comb out her locks. While he combed, he used his hands to rub her shoulders. His hands and fingers felt strong but not rough. His body smelled like a girl's thanks to the shampoos they'd used, but she didn't care. She liked the idea he wasn't embarrassed by little things like that. His breath smelled of coffee. She liked that too. 

Cal slowly worked the brush downward. He was trying to form a part down the middle of her scalp. He had this fantasy he could work her hair into two braids like she'd had the other evening; make two braids and then tie them off together with a black ribbon in the back. When she'd done it had looked really sexy. He started thinking; thinking about other things.

He opened up, "Can I ask you some questions?"

"Anything," she answered, secretly thinking he might bring up their childhoods.

He waited a minute. She thought he'd changed his mind.

"Have I ever given you an orgasm?'

"What," she asked?

"You know. Have I given you an orgasm?"

"I guess so."

"You guess so? You don't know?"

"Well, yeah, yes I mean. You've given me an orgasm."

He kept brushing her hair, "Tell me about it."

She was flustered, "I don't know. Things feel good; then things feel real good."

"What things?"

"You know."

"No I don't know. Tell me."

She thought this was getting kind of kinky, "I like it when you kiss me."

"Does that give you an orgasm?"

She answered, "No." Then she turned her head slightly, "Why are you asking me this?"

"I want to know. Am I giving you orgasms or not?"

She tried to shut the subject down, "You are, so forget it. What else do you want to know?" 

He wanted to know more, "What does it feel like?"

"What does what feel like?"

"An orgasm."

"It feels good."

He wouldn't quit, "All right what's good about it; me just kissing?"

"No; not just that."

"OK, what?"

Maureen took the brush out of his hand and started brushing her hair herself. Still squatting on the rug she swiveled around, "You want to know what an orgasm is like?"

"Yes."

She shifted around so that she was kneeling, her feet tucked up under her legs, "All right. I'll tell you."

Cal lay back and spread out on the sofa, waiting.

She put her hands in her lap, "First I like the kissing. I like the kissing a lot. You're a good kisser, a real good kisser. You aren't in a hurry. I like it when you use your fingernails and rub up and down the back of my neck. I suppose you can tell because my hackles rise."

He nodded.

She went on. "I like it when you rub my thighs, my inner thighs and the backs of my thighs. It feels good when you rub your fingers up and down the calves of my legs. I like it when you trace your fingers over my scars." She saw his uncertain look, "I know where every scar is. I know when you're thinking about them and when you're touching them. I like it. It makes me feel good." 

He asked again, "So when does the orgasm come?"

She spun around so she was sitting on her side with all her weight on her left elbow, "Shut up and listen." The whole conversation was making her nervous.

Impatiently she added, "I like it when you fiddle with my hair, when you run your fingers through it, when you hold it. Just now when you held it to your face, I liked that. You brush it and I feel good, special good."

He interrupted, "So what about the orgasm thing? When does the orgasm come?"

She spun around, resting her weight on her right elbow. The whole question and answer thing was getting tedious, "All the things I've mentioned make me feel good. I feel special, important. I think when you do that stuff you're thinking about me, only me. Like I'm all you're thinking about. It makes me feel good about you. I feel warm inside; inside my heart. Then you start to touch me down here." She took her hand and rubbed her mons.

"When you touch me down here you're slow, and you're careful. You're not rough. You're never in a hurry. I like that. You go down on me. You go down here and you kiss my mound. You take your tongue and you tickle my clitoris. That really feels good, but I don't think it would feel that good if you hadn't done all the other things first."

He interrupted, "You mean like kissing you and touching you."

She nodded, "It all adds up. You kiss me; you touch me here, and here, and here." She touched herself on the back of her neck, her breasts, and her thighs. 

"Sometimes you touch my pubis or my clitoris, or you kiss it, and then you stop. When you stop I immediately want you to start again. I feel like I need to itch it. It's not really an itch; it's like an itch, like I can't leave it alone."

He was getting it, "But what's an orgasm like?"

She said, "I don't know. You add all these things up and then something happens. I feel suddenly, not suddenly really, but like it's suddenly I feel like my vagina's working overtime. I have this hot sensation, I get real wet, everything gets tighter; everything gets flushed and nervous. It happens here," She touched her pubic area, "But it happens other places too. I feel nervous and tense all over, mostly here," again pointing to her crotch, "But all over too." 

He nodded.

She went on, "I've felt all this when you've been inside me; I mean this warm excitement, but once when you weren't inside I felt it. You've done your stuff inside me, and twice it made me have this extra feeling, but once this extra feeling happened afterward again even when you'd stopped doing anything. It was like I did it twice. But honestly, you've gone inside me, and though it felt good, I didn't have anything. Once, even, I had a really special feeling after you'd done it, and you'd started to get smaller. You kept kissing me and touching me, and even though you were going away inside I had a thing."

He said, "You mean it happens all the time."

"No,' she answered, "It hardly ever happens, but there's no one thing that causes it. It's all the things I mentioned causing it, and at different times, and it doesn't just happen. I'm always thinking when it happens, not about my body, but about you, and me, and how you make me feel, not just what I feel, but how I think we both feel."

He thought he'd gotten, "Oh I get it."

She stopped him, "No you don't. I have all these things happening to me, you kiss me, you whisper things, you nibble here, tickle there, you touch me, squeeze me, pinch me, hold me in special ways, then you touch my privates, you rub them, kiss them, squeeze them, stop kissing them, start again, put your thing inside me, ejaculate. But it's not all physical, it's mental, emotional, a heart thing. You make me love you in my mind, and then my body too. It's all of me that has it; it's concentrated a lot in my privates, but it goes on all over too. 

He pulled her off her elbow and started kissing her. Her comments about the kissing, hugging, and loving had made him want to do some more.

She didn't, "Stop it. I don't want to do this again right now."

He sat up, "Do what?"

"I don't want to make love with you right now; you're upsetting me."

"I'm sorry."

She angrily threw the brush down, "Why are you apologizing for making me feel loved and happy?" 

He felt surprised and a little hurt, "I'm sorry. No I mean I'm not sorry for how I make you feel. I want you to feel that way. I'm sorry for making you think I was trying to take advantage of you just now."

He paused, "Can't I at least hold you some more?"

Maureen's patience and self control were at and end, "Oh shut up. And no you can't hold me. Got any more questions?"

That hurt his feelings. He really wanted to hold her and kiss her some more, but he still had other questions. He asked, "How many operations did you have on your legs?"

She slumped down, "Talk about going from the ridiculous to the sublime. I had eight major operations, and I think four smaller ones."

"That's a lot."

"And everyone hurt."

He was really concerned; feeling extra empathetic, "It's a remarkable thing that you survived at all."

She moved over closer; not for affection, she was thinking this might be it, "I had all my big operations after the worst was over."

"What do you mean the worst was over?" 

"My mom told me I nearly died two or three times before any real surgeries were performed. You see I was too young, too small, and too weak for them to risk putting me under the knife. It was six months before anything big was attempted; even then I'm told my bones were still like crumpled up mush."

"Those first months must have been tough."

My mom said I wouldn't have made it except for the nurse I had," She hesitated, "and her little boy. My mom said the little boy was like my pretend protector, my fantasy inspiration. He pretended to be my guardian. My mom said he was my guiding light through a dark dangerous tunnel." She spun around, pressed her cheek on the seat of the sofa. She stared penetratingly, questioningly, into his eyes.

Cal felt a rush. The walls were closing in again! A wave of fear swept over him; like someone had just walked on his grave. He had an acute gnawing in the pit of his stomach. He was going to throw up. He didn't know why. He had to get away from whatever it was. He changed the subject. He nervously asked, "Show me how you make those braids."

Maureen didn't want to give up. She wanted to chase him down, "I thought you wanted to hear about my legs."

There it was again! Sure he wanted to hear about her legs; he did but he didn't. It scared him to think about what she had gone through. It scared him to think about something else, something he couldn't put his finger on. He had to escape whatever it was. "Maybe later; show me how to make a braid. Tell you what, remake your hair the way you had it at the tavern."

She saw the desperation in his eyes. His face was chalk white. He was scared! He'd gone farther than he was ready to go, "You mean the night you punched that guy in the nose."

He felt relieved. He was afraid, and he didn't know what of; like he'd stepped back from some dark chasm, "Yes." 

As he recovered his aplomb he knew he had to change the subject in his mind. He had to get out quick! He reflected on what he'd asked about the orgasm thing. He was glad he hadn't tried to rush things, though his reasons had more to do with not hurting her and little to do with giving her an orgasm. He liked what she'd said. He would work even harder at being a good lover. 

The other thing was pushing back at him. She was only four. He would have been six! What was wrong with him? Why would her legs, her surgeries, her suffering so corrupt his thinking? 

He had to get grounded again. He thought about her clothes. He liked everything she'd worn. But he had a little money; he thought it would be cool to dress her up even more. He needed to buy her stuff, just like the way she'd bought him all that stuff. 

The other shit wouldn't go away! What was wrong with him? Her legs, her surgeries, the damn nurse, and now she said something about a little boy! What fucking little boy? Get this shit out of your mind Cal!

He watched her sitting there on the floor in her bathrobe, breasts loose, nipples all pert and sassy, thighs and arms all pretty, firm, and muscular, scars! She was going to be his fairy princess!

Fairy princess? Where the hell did that come from? His palms were sweating. His heart was beating a mile a minute Get off the fucking subject! 

He tried again. He was going to dress her all up. From now on she'd be the total cat's meow, only the best from now on. She was his girl, his fiance, soon to be his wife, the mother of children they would make and raise together. He would take care of her, protect her, see that she was safe. Safe from what? Who was the fucking little boy? Who was the fucking nurse?

Maureen watched him. She could see the turmoil.He was at war with himself. She wanted to cry out to him, console him. She wanted to tell him! She couldn't do it. He had to make the discovery by himself. Yet she thought, 'her mom had told her. Why couldn't she help him, let him off the hook? 

Not yet. We'll see.'

She punched his leg, "Hey are you watching?"

He knew she meant her doing her hair; that wasn't all he was watching, "Yes ma'am."

"Don't yes ma'am me you clod!" 

He smiled. He loved it when she talked dirty. He wished she'd let him hold her and kiss her some more. 

++++++++++++

For the next several minutes Maureen sat on the floor in front of the sofa and braided her hair the way she'd done the night they'd gone to the tavern. Cal watched intently. Her every move, every discreet twist and turn gave him a thrill. For most of the braiding Maureen devoted her energies to explaining what she was doing. Cal was only half interested in the process; he preferred to just watch her. He bet she could make kneading dough look sexy. 

Near the completion of her braiding Maureen asked, "Are we going to work on the gazebo today?"

Cal had put thoughts of the gazebo on the back burner, "What do you say we do something else today; take a break from the gazebo."

Maureen was all for a break. Her muscles ached, "Did you have anything else in mind?'

He responded reflectively, "Sort of. Maybe we 

could go shopping?"

Maureen looked up suspiciously, "What do you want to buy?"

He gave her an enigmatic smile, "It's a secret."

Maureen gave him an equally mysterious smile, 

"OK, I'll go shopping with you, if you answer one question."

He was still naked, "Can we get dressed first?"

Yeah I guess we'll have to if we're going out. 

I'll run in the bedroom and slip something on. Your stuff's been in the washer. It may still be a little damp. Put it in the dryer for fifty minutes. We'll sit in the kitchen, you naked me dressed, and you can ask me some more questions."

For Cal the crisis had passed, more questions probably would be all right, "Sounds good." He got up and went to the kitchen.

Maureen went back and looked around for something to put on. The weather looked nice outside, maybe a little cool so she selected her attire accordingly. She opted for a pair of black jeans, a white button up long sleeved blouse, and a light green pull over V-necked sweater, a pair of dark brown knee high stockings, and some white tennis shoes. 

She dabbed on a tad of make up, and strolled into the kitchen. Cal had his T-shirt, socks, and jeans humming away in the dryer. He'd look like a ragamuffin next to her, but she liked that. It would be easier to boss him around. He liked being bossed a little. She'd mix the orders with affection and have him soft and gooey all day.

Maureen went in and sat beside Cal, "I have a question."

Cal had summoned some reserves of courage. He thought he'd figured something out, "Me first."

"OK," she responded.

He was determined to get something out, "Who was the little boy you mentioned?"

Maureen made up her mind. It was time to tell him. But she wouldn't just say it. She'd show him. She'd show him like her mother had shown her, "Wait here Cal."

Maureen disappeared upstairs to her mother's room. She found the old toys and the pictures. She held everything in her hands. She looked in her mother's mirror, "Well here goes." 

++++++++++++

Downstairs the telephone rang. 

Cal picked it up, "Hello."

It was the police.Cal's grandfather had been in an accident; he'd been taken to the emergency room at the nearby county hospital. 

Cal yelled upstairs, "Maureen I have to go. My grandfather's hurt himself."

Maureen called back, "Wait for me."

Cal waited outside beside his grandfather's car. 

Maureen locked up the house and jumped inside. She asked, "What did they say?"

Cal answered, "He's not hurt badly. He dropped something on his foot. I still have to go."

Maureen thought about the pictures and the toys she'd left out on her mother's bed. They could wait. Cal's grandfather was in trouble. There was something else she had to straighten out first. 

She looked over at the beleaguered Cal. Maggie was panting on the back seat.

Maureen touched his arm, "Cal."

He threw the car into drive, looked over, "Yes."

She admonished, "Jared's our grandfather." She put extra emphasis on the word our, "We have to go." She emphasized the word we.

Cal slammed on the breaks, threw the car into park. He reached across, grabbed Maureen and pulled her over the console. He embraced her and kissed her, "Let's go see our grandfather."

She leaned back on her side of the car. She took the old wedding ring off and stuffed it in her purse. She kept the engagement ring on, "He'll be pleased to see me wearing this."

Cal looked down at her hand; at the old ring. He responded in a husky half whisper, "Yeah."

Together they drove off toward the hospital. 

++++++++++++

The car trundled along the country road toward the hospital. Maureen had just missed her chance to tell Cal abut his childhood; their childhoods together. Maybe this was better? Wait and see. If Jared wasn't too badly injured maybe she could talk to him; maybe he'd have something to say. 

She glanced over at Cal. The last thing she wanted to do was upset him; especially if his grandfather was in trouble. Yes, she'd find a chance to talk to Jared if she could. Jared might help. 

Cal concentrated on his driving, but something had clicked. Somewhere deep in the innermost bowels of his unconscious a gear had shifted, the universe, his universe, had changed. He couldn't be sure what or when, but he'd figured it out. His mother had died when he was little, but he knew she'd kept all his little boy things, all his toys, his Halloween outfits, the pictures he'd drawn. Some of the pictures came back now; clumsy little crayon sketches. They were clear, right there in his mind's eye. He saw the girl, the black hair, the green eyes, the chair, the bed, the gazebo. 

He saw himself too; a little stick boy with yellow hair. He needed to find them to make sure, but he had it figured out. He knew who Maureen's nurse was. He knew who the little boy was. It was joyous! The mud had settled; the mist had been blown away. Oh joy! What a happy discovery!

Maureen had said something; it had been a trigger, something that had cleared a way through the fog. It hadn't been that foggy anyway; once whatever it was she'd said penetrated, the jumble, all the confused pieces came together. What had she said? She'd said something about a guardian, a protector, the little boy being her guide. 

Cal smiled. That's what it had been! He'd been her guide and guardian. He'd guide her through the dark dangers, and he'd been there to protect her from all the dragons and monsters. Cal had been Maureen's protector. The gazebo had been their special place. It all fit!




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 08



He glanced over at Maureen. He wondered if she knew. No she didn't know. Several times she'd said her mom had told her things, but that she didn't remember anything herself. 

Cal started to silently tear up and weep. Many of the things that he'd pushed out of his consciousness were seeping back in. He remembered the sofa, the old gazebo, her bed. He remembered her bed; that torture chamber they called a bedroom. He heard her crying down through the years. He looked over at her again. They'd told him she'd died. She hadn't died. She'd lived, she'd grown up, and they were together again, but she didn't remember. What should he do? 

Maureen looked over and saw Cal crying. Thinking he was worried about Jared she said, "Don't worry. I'm sure your grandfather will be all right."

He listened to her comforting words. That was good he thought. Let her think his tears were for Jared. He recovered his self control. She didn't know the truth yet. She'd have to find out. He hoped it wouldn't change anything. Geez, she might change her mind. What if she came to resent him? She wouldn't. She might? It was a bad time for her. Would she want someone around who was a constant reminder of those terrible days? 

What if she became afraid he would want to make her remember? How might she feel? He glanced over again. 

No, she's good. Cal thought, 'I have to have faith in her.' Then he got scared again, 'but what if she does, say, become afraid, afraid of me, of what I might think or say, or try to make her remember.

Cal was scared again. His insecurities were resurfacing. He reached over and took Maureen's hand, "You know I love you. I'd never hurt you."

She glanced back at him. She was afraid for him. What would his reaction be when he found out? She loved him so much, "Cal I know that. I love you so much."

+++++++++++++++

Together they drove on toward the hospital. They both knew the truth, but neither believed the other knew. Would their mutual discovery draw them closer, make their love stronger, add to the adhesive of a modern romance, or would it become a destructive thing, a force that would riven the love two toddler's had created and nurtured so many years before. 

Love, understanding, passion, compassion; they are all parts of God's creation. Only God, in his infinite wisdom can know what would happen to these two wonderful young people. There would challenges ahead for Cal and Maureen; an unfinished gazebo, an injured grandparent, a country club dance, an unmentioned ailment undermining a father's health, maybe even an old boyfriend. Then what of the biological father? 

Where was he? And what of Cal's as yet unmentioned sibling? He had a half sister. Would she become part of the mix? Could they threaten the future happiness of our two lovebirds? 

As Cal and Maureen drove to the hospital another couple was on another road. Sandy, that always petulant jealous little piece of tinsel wasn't finished with Cal, not by a country mile. As she drove down the highway, she chattered with another girl; a new girlfriend, someone she'd just met. Her new friend was named Laurie, and Sandy knew.



A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 09



Cal helped Maureen into his grandfather's car, and they sped off toward the hospital. Maureen used her cell phone to call the hospital and get confirmation about Jared. Yes he had been brought to the hospital. Yes he had dropped something big and heavy on his foot. Yes it was broken, and yes the hospital, owing to Jared's advanced years intended to keep him overnight. Otherwise he was doing quite well. He was alert, feeling bearish, and angry with himself for being stupid. 

Maureen shared the good news with Cal; still, it didn't seem to make a dent on his somber mood, "What's wrong Cal?"

He didn't want to tell her he'd figured everything out. Though he was sure she'd be OK with it, he was just a little chary about the whole thing. The further they drove the more about the past came into view; the wheel chair, the bedroom, the sofa, the gazebo, her tears, the pleading. That was what it was. Her suffering he remembered now so clearly; her pathetic little girl voice begging with the doctors and nurses not to hurt her, the chilling screams as they worked with her legs, the shrill shrieks as they tried to get the bones close to being back in place. He recalled her sobs; her soft whimpering that continued hours after the medical people had left. 

He remembered the made up stories; he was the mighty knight, a brave hero fighting off the dragons, beating back the trolls, him hiding under the make believe bridge, actually the steps of the old gazebo, so he could ambush the evil monsters, and him always there to rescue her from the terrors lurking in the dark after the sun went down when it was time for bed. 

He remembered her clinging tightly to his hands; he recalled how it sometimes scared him, and sometimes he'd make her let go. He remembered the way she looked at him; to her he really was a knight, a prince, or at least now in hindsight it seemed that way, like she so desperately wanted to believe it. 

These were all terribly painful memories. They were an agony for him; how much worse would they be for her? How would it affect her if he dared to bring them up again after so long? Still, he had to say something, "I bet you don't remember anything about that little boy from when you were so little."

Maureen couldn't remember very much, but what she did remember was becoming increasingly vivid. Yes, the reality of her painful early childhood was becoming more real with every passing hour, "I remember some things. I do remember the boy. I was only a baby really, but I know I loved him, and I knew even then I'd love him forever." She said that as a kind of investment; for a time when he discovered he was the boy, then he'd remember what she'd said.

"What would you do if say today he showed up again? Would you still love me?"

She thought of the Roy Orbison song, 'Running Scared'. Was Cal running scared? To him she guessed the little boy was something of a rival, a rival he could never defeat. She had to tell him, "No Cal. If another man showed up and said he was my hero from the time I was four, I'd stick with you."

"You'd abandon him?"

"No. I'll love him till the day I die."

"You'd say no to him, but yes to me."

Maureen had come to something of a crossroads. She could make her next statement more meaningful if it came out right. "No Cal, I could never say no to that little boy, but I could never say no to you either."

"Then you'd say no to me? You'd have to." That bothered Cal.

"I love you. I love you more than anyone else in the world. I also love that little boy. I love him more than anyone else in the world too. The reason why I couldn't say no to you, or to him, is because he and you are the same person." There, she'd said it.

Cal pulled the car to the side of the road. He fiddled with her hands, holding her fingers, fumbling with them, "How long have you known?"

"My mom told me the story a couple nights ago. I sort of suspected something, but I just couldn't put the pieces together. Once she told me everything, showed me some pictures and some old toys everything fell into place."

After he turned the car off and got Maggie settled in the back seat again he was ready to say his piece. Looking down at his lap and then at her, "My eyes were cleared just moments ago; it's still hard to understand."

Maureen took his right hand in her left and put it to her cheek, "I know."

He put his left hand on her right cheek and rubbed it softly, "All these years we've only been a few miles apart. I thought you had died. My mom died a little after, so there wasn't anybody to remind me. I remember trying to put it out my mind, but it wouldn't go away. I mean I was a pretty happy kid, but it was like there was this empty place. Nothing would fill it."

"And now?"

"Now, now I don't know. I mean I don't want to see you go back over all those painful times. Look, I mean I'm happy. I think for the first time ever I can honestly say I'm completely happy. It's like I've gotten my heart's desire. But at the same time I'm afraid. I'm afraid I might make you remember a lot of really bad things."

She reached over with her right hand pulled his head toward her; and she pulled him over the console that separated them. She placed her mouth next to his left ear, "You bring me so much joy. You make me feel like I'm the center of the universe, that I'm just this really special person, that everyone wants to be me. And when I think of that little boy, my little hero with his toy shield and toy sword, I don't remember any pain. I only remember my wonderful little defender, my brave little soldier, the sandy haired child who fought off the dragons, Cal the courageous."

Cal didn't say anything. He wrapped his arms around Maureen. He nestled his head in her rich, well braided, hair. It was all right. Everything was all right, "We better get to the hospital." 

++++++++++++

Jared was sitting up in bed; his foot elevated above his heart. Though loaded with pain killer he knew as soon as they entered the room they'd figured things out, "Got it figured out, huh."

Maureen leaned up and kissed Cal's left cheek. She unconsciously lifted her right foot as she completed the oscillation, "Yeah, we got it grandpa."

Jared looked at his grandson, "That makes me feel good." He looked at Maureen, "When's the wedding?"

She was resting her head on Cal's left arm. Her left hand was fiddling with his belt; adjusting his T-shirt back in his pants. She had her right arm around his back at waist level, "As soon as you're up and about."

The old man, cocked his head a little to the right, half smile on his lips and said, "Maybe the end of September."

She slipped over, put her left hand around his head, "A September bride." She whispered it in a wistful, breathy, ethereal voice. 

"I'm a little worried about something though."

"What's that sir," Cal assumed his standard obedient tone.

"I'm not sure I want you to use your grandmother's old rings."

Maureen's eyes widened in surprise; Cal stood there nonplussed, more than a little surprised.

"I mean they're nice and all, but maybe they'd be better used in another way."

Maureen started to ask what that might be, but Jared stopped her, "I mean I think I'd like to buy you two some real expensive rings." He gave Cal a fixed look, "Never got a chance with your grandmother. Thought I could do it now. Then we could take these old rings and make something else, like a necklace or some sort of broach. I'm no jeweler, but I bet somebody could come up with something. Besides, your mom never got..." The old man didn't finish; he glanced away, then added, "You know."

Cal gave a noncommittal nod, "I see. The thing about the rings; that might work. Maureen what do you think?"

Maureen successfully held her excitement in check. Growing up she'd never exactly been what people called a wall flower or ugly duckling, but her years of invalidism and the therapy had led to some serious day dreaming; a really big diamond had been something she'd looked forward to, "I like these," pointing to the one ring on her finger, "but I think having one of my very own would be nice too." 

The old man took her hand and pulled her closer. He was tired, and the medications made him groggy, still, he needed to touch the girl who would be his granddaughter; the young woman who would make his great grandchildren. He didn't have anything to say. He just wanted to experience her physical presence. She made him happy.

"I think we better leave so grandpa can get some rest."

Maureen nodded, agreeing with Cal.

Jared said, "You get home and tell your mother and father."

Cal asked his grandpa, "What about us knowing."

Jared growled, "No, tell them you're both worried about global warming." He looked at Maureen, "He can be thick sometimes. Try to keep him in line."

She wiped an errant tear from an eye. In a raspy whisper, "I will."

++++++++++++

Cal and Maureen left Jared in the emergency room. He looked frail, a lot worse than the injury warranted. They both silently and separately wondered if he'd be around much longer. Maureen secretly hoped she'd already gotten pregnant. Seeing the old man hold his first great grandchild would be sort of nice.

As they traveled back to see Andrea they passed a of myriad sights neither had paid much attention to before, but this time, on this trip, both seemed to be looking at things in different, newer ways. 

The distance that separated the hospital from Maureen's childhood home was covered rapidly. Maureen noticed the many churches. There were two Baptist churches, a Catholic church, one for Presbyterians, two Methodist churches, a quiet little synagogue, and several nondenominational churches. 

They'd have to pick a church. She wasn't Jewish, but she thought she might have had a Jewish grandmother. She thought Jewish people had it wrong. That was OK though. She figured God wouldn't hold it against them. Besides she sort of thought Christians and Jews needed each other; like they were stuck in this bad marriage that neither wanted to leave.

The smart thing to do was be an atheist. She'd thought about it, but she didn't think God would approve. That sounded silly, but not believing in God was about the silliest thing one could do. He was here. She knew he was here. She knew because he talked to her all the time when she was little. 

She'd never been much of a church goer growing up. The hospital where they'd worked on her had been Catholic; it had a beautiful little chapel, and some of the nurses were nuns. They were all nice to her, and she thought the Catholics had things pretty much figured out. She could go that route; but preferred something else; the idea of a Pope being smarter than the Bible didn't make much sense.

Another thing she knew from what she'd read and been told was the Lutherans, Presbyterians, and most of the more evangelical groups sounded too damn dead sure. Anybody that sure was probably less sure than she was, and she sure wasn't sure.

From among all the denominations she thought the Methodists made the least sense, and by making the least they made the most. Based on what she'd read, and she'd read a lot about God when she was younger, figuring she might not be around all that much longer at the time, the Methodists always sounded like they had the most questions and the fewest answers. Based on what she'd read they never seemed to have any, what she liked to call, definitive answers. Everything always ended with the same thing, 'belief in things unseen', or more simply put what they called faith, simple faith. What was it; 'trust and obey, for there's no other way', and don't be telling other people they're wrong.

She thought the Baptists were just like the Methodists about most things, and they sounded friendlier. What turned her off about the Baptists was the Matthew thing, Matthew twenty-seven she thought. "Let his death be on our heads and the heads of our children." The way she saw it, if Jewish people had killed Jesus they'd have probably stoned him. Even if they had done it, or caused it to be done, she didn't think it was fair to blame millions of people for what somebody in a crowd said once two thousand years ago. Heck she'd read about all the lynchings and stuff in the South, and she certainly didn't want a lot of black people blaming her for all that. She felt bad about it, but she didn't want to be hated for it.

Still, all in all, any church was probably OK. They all had their points. She guessed it would all come down to which church had the biggest children's Sunday school, and which church had the best Vacation Bible School program. After all, wasn't church really about getting the kids off to a good start? And she and Cal were going to have a bunch of kids, and her kids were going to get the best. By the best she told herself that might not mean a lot of money or stuff, but it would mean a good family life, and a life brought up inside a church.

She figured Cal would go along with whatever church she picked. He was more a God guy, not a religion guy.

Cal looked over at the pensive woman beside him, "What's on your mind?"

"We have to pick a church?"

"What, for the wedding?"

"Yes that, but we'll need a place to go on Sundays."

He teased, "You a holy roller?"

"Not at all, but we'll need a good place for the kids."

"Do I have to go too?"

She punched him, "Of course you'll have to go. We'll go together, sit in the same pew every Sunday, hold hands; we'll sing hymns, pray. We'll do it all. At the very least everybody will see the handsome man I caught."

"Ouch!" He flinched from the sock in the ribs. "Yeah, I guess we better go. We have a lot to be thankful for."

"I love you Cal."

Cal sat up extra straight in his seat. Nothing else she could have said was better than that.

+++++++++++++

Back home at Andrea's Cal and Maureen sat around and waited for Andrea to get home. Maureen went upstairs and got the old pictures and old toys to show Cal. He loved them. He remembered the toys, and he sort of even remembered the day they took the big family picture.

"I think I remember the day this picture with everybody was taken. You were having lots of trouble all day getting straightened out. Your mom had an old pink pillow she used a lot to soften the chair."

Maureen jumped up, "Wait here!" She ran upstairs and came down with an old tattered, almost flat pillow, "Is this it?"

"That's it. I remember it. Your mom used to put it under your bottom. She smelled at it a lot, and constantly washed it. I guess you lost your bowels a few times and the pillow took the heat."

Maureen held the pillow in her hands. She put it too her nose, but couldn't smell anything, "My mom must have had a hard time."

"I don't know. I was little too, but I do know you were never alone. My mom, your mom, or one of the nurses was with you all day and all night. I remember listening to you at night. You cried a lot."

"It must have been hard for you too; a little boy like that I mean." 

"I look at you now, and I see so much beauty, so much goodness, and so much purity. Maureen I love you so much. I feel lucky I got to be with you when you were little. It makes everything that much more wonderful."

Maureen looked away. She didn't want him to see the tears.

++++++++++++

Andrea's mom pulled in the gravel drive. She got out and inspected the gazebo. She guessed they must have been tired and took the day off. She saw Jared's car parked nearby; she figured they were inside. She was tired, but wanted to hear how they were doing.

As the screen door slammed Andrea called into the living room, "Is anybody home?"

"We're in here mom."

Andrea went in and sat down on the only other seat, an old easy chair, "How did your day go?"

"Cal's granddad is in the hospital, nothing serious. He broke his foot. Mom, Cal knows."

Andrea flushed, "Cal knows about you and him?"

"He knows everything. He remembers more than I do."

Andrea looked at Cal. She felt old, "How do you feel about...things?"

He saw she was tired, and he could tell she was probably close to the end of her emotional rope, "I feel complete. I'm filled with all this love; love for you, for your husband, for my grandpa, and for Maureen. It's like all of a sudden my life has purpose, I know where I want to go, what I want to do, and who I want to be with. Suddenly I have all these dreams; dreams about my girl here, our future, the children we're going to make, the children you'll get to play with. You know it was like I was living in a cell, alone, in a fog, and then the fog cleared, the sun came out, and the sky got real blue. I feel like I've been set free."

He paused long enough to collect his thoughts and let everything he articulated set in, "Andrea, you made this happen. Not many mothers would have had the courage you had. Most moms I think would have given up. You didn't. I can remember. Sure it's the memory of a little boy, but I do remember. You were always awake when I went to sleep. You were always awake when I woke up. I don't ever remember you being asleep."

He patted Maureen's arm, "Look at what you made."

Andrea felt like crying. No one had ever seriously said any of these kinds of things to her. She felt so good. Someone had noticed, and then 'that someone' who'd noticed was the little boy, the little boy who turned out to be the man who was going to marry her little girl, "Thanks Cal. It's nice to hear that, especially from you." She turned to Maureen, "Let me call your father. I know he'd like to come home. He's been hiding out till you got the gazebo done, but there's no need for that now." 

Maureen yawned. It was a large fake yawn, "I'm tired."

Cal replied, "Me too, let's go to bed."

"Just sleep OK?"

"Yeah just sleep tonight."

After Cal let Maggie out for a smell around and a dump, he and Maureen, hand in hand, slumped off to her bedroom. Both were tired, and both knew tomorrow, Saturday, was going to be a busy day.

++++++++++++

Later that same evening Travis, Maureen's dad got home. He looked at his wife, "Tell me how things are."

"Would you believe Trav.? They're really in love; a match made in heaven. 

"They're still working on the gazebo I see."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that Trav. Though it started out as Maureen's gift for you, it evolved out and away from everything."

"It was a nice thought just the same."

"I think the idea of building something drew Cal to our girl, then with Maureen and her, well you know the odd way she has of alienating and embracing people at the same time, the gazebo was the magnet that kept them going. The next thing I saw; they were in love."

"He was a good little boy. Has he changed much?"

"The good boy has grown into a wonderful young man. His mom, you remember her, would have been proud of him. I know Jared is."

Travis looked toward Maureen's bedroom door. He had a far off look in his eyes, "Do you think they're asleep?"

"Oh yeah."

"Mind if I look in?"

"No, let's look in together."

Andrea and Travis both sneaked over to Maureen's bedroom door and slowly opened it. They eased it open just enough to allow a smidgen of light to peak in. Maureen was curled up in a fetal ball. Cal was lying up against her, left arm wrapped around her chest, hand pressed against a breast. Andrea and Travis looked at the children, then at each other.

Travis whispered, "This is wonderful."

Andrea pressed her head against her husband's hollow chest, "Our prayers have truly been answered."

Reading his wife's mind he opined, "This is what it's been about. We may be poor, but we're rich."

"I love you Trav."

Travis,the tired and haggard father, pulled his wife into his arms. He wiped his hand over her greying hair, "We did it Andy. We got it done."





A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 09



Andrea leaned up and kissed her husband, "Come on; let's go to bed." Together they softly closed the door, and drifted up the stairs, walking past the paper toys lying on the worn old sofa.

++++++++++++

Maureen had only been pretending to be asleep as her parents peaked in. She heard most of their whispered comments. These were the happiest moments of her life; her parents were happy, she had Cal, Jared would live long enough to hold his great grandchildren, and they'd all live happily ever after.

++++++++++++

Not too far down the road Sandy was plying Cal's half sister with expensive cognac, "Tomorrow night there's something of a do on at my country club. I want you to come."

Laurie was only half listening to her new friend Sandy; she, Laurie, had never been much of a socializer. She'd been her father's only child, her father had been a womanizer when she was little; eventually her mother had divorced him and disappeared, leaving the two of them alone. Her dad remarried and straightened up, but he and his second wife had their own lives, and somehow she got left out.

It wasn't that her father didn't love her; it was more about him not knowing or caring much about children. She got things; she just never got much attention. Truth was, she was kind of lonely most of the time; big house, lots of stuff, indifferent parents, no friends.

There had been other problems too. Her dad's business went south, and they had to rely on her step mom's resources. Luckily step mom had money; there was no financial stress, but that didn't make her life any easier. Laurie knew she was never anything more than 'the child'. She knew to get anywhere it would be on her own. She devoted herself to getting good grades in school, doing the best she could. It paid off too; top ranked S.A.T. scores got her recognition, scholarships, and all kinds of other outside help. 

Then at the end of her senior year of high school she was diagnosed with leukemia. One would have thought that would have awakened something in her father; it only drove him further away, like he'd been right all along not to invest too much emotion in a child. Treatments had cost a lot of money, but it also cost a full year away from the books. Her cancer went into in remission, but it had really slowed her down; still she got on with her studies and her life, such as it was.

Now she'd just finished her senior year of college, almost ready for graduate school, with a promising future as a biochemical engineer, nothing like a little cancer to give one a goal in life. She remembered she had an older half brother, Cal something. She'd learned about him when she was in junior high; she got her first good look at him in her high school freshman year. From then on she fantasized about him. He was so handsome, the other kids all talked about him; what a great guy he was, how considerate he was, what a gentleman he was. She imagined they'd meet up, become true brother and sister; maybe even stay together. It never happened. 

She saw Cal a couple times, once up close. She knew who he was, and she could tell he knew who she was, but nothing ever came of it. She guessed he hated her because she was the 'legal' kid and he was the 'illegal' kid. She never felt especially 'legal'. She wished she'd had the courage to go up to him. Even though they were related she'd kind of fallen in love with him.

Sandy kept going on about the dance, about some people she wanted Laurie to meet, and how the dance could be a big step for Laurie. Laurie wasn't interested, but agreed to go anyway. What difference did it make? Laurie figured she'd have some fun, meet some people, dance a little, and in a week or so be back at school, no big deal.

++++++++++++

Saturday morning came early for Cal and Maureen. They were up with the sun, and outside working on the gazebo by 8:00 a.m.; between the two of them they got the rafters for the roof in place. It was hard work, and a couple times he was afraid it was too much for Maureen. She hung in there though, and by lunchtime he was ready to start cutting out the plywood sheathing and fit the sheets in place. Maureen, however, persuaded him they should give it a break till Sunday. She wanted to be well rested for the dance, and she wanted to give Cal some rudimentary lessons on how to dance at a gathering where a lot of older folks would be watching.

Andrea fixed everybody lunch; grilled cheeses and tomato soup. Maureen thought it was a little out of season for cheese and soup, but if that's what her mom wanted, that's what they'd eat.

They all sat around the kitchen table slurping up sodas and wolfing down the food. Cal had on his standard uniform, raggedy T-shirt, jeans, white socks, and tennis shoes. Maureen was imitating her future mate with her own version of the same attire, though from Cal's perspective T-shirts took on an entirely different outlook on Maureen. Andrea was lounging around in a short baby blue romper. Travis was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a yellow polo shirt. The yellow shirt did nothing to hide his sallow appearance. His poor health stood out like a beacon.

Cal asked, "What do you do Travis?"

He answered, "I'm in sales."

"Like what?" 

Travis replied, "Right now I'm selling tools. A few months ago it was electronic equipment."

Cal asked, "You know much about computers?"

"Some," was the reply.

Cal said, "You know I'm heavy into the electronics piece, software, and hardware. It's a busy time right now, and I could use some help."

"I don't know," was Travis's response.

"No I mean not in sales, but in managing inventory, and in taking calls; I get a ton work from people. I specialize in finding people with ideas, and in helping them get started. You'd be surprised how many people are out there inventing and creating, but who lack the back up. I mean the infrastructural support. I'm busy all the time. The people I work for and with are always on the look out for reliable and smart middle level types. I mean I'm not putting you down, but it would keep you off the road; out of trouble as it were."

Travis sat back, "What is this; my future son offering me a job?"

"No more a partnership." Cal could see Travis needed rest as much as anything, and he, Cal, could use some back up. He had a couple really big ventures on the immediate horizon, a responsible older person, even if it was just to answer the phones and the e-mails, would be a big help.

Travis looked at his wife. He could tell she wanted him to take the opportunity, "I'll think it over, and get back to you."

Cal answered, "Fair enough."

Andrea watched the interplay between the two men. She knew how tired Travis was. He was worn out. Cal was accomplishing two things; he was giving their daughter a life, and he might be saving her father's life, "I think you ought to take Cal more seriously Travis."

Maureen added her two cents, "I would be nice to be able to see you on a daily basis dad."

That sold Travis. He didn't care if it turned out to be minimum wage, if Maureen wanted him home, knowing what the doctors had said, this was a chance to at least slow down a while, "OK Cal. Let me wind up what I'm doing, and in a couple weeks I'll give you a call."

Cal grinned, "You won't have to call. I expect to be right here every night."

Everybody had a good laugh.

++++++++++++

Cal and Maureen spent most of the rest of the afternoon practicing their dance steps. Cal was true to his word. He couldn't dance worth a darn, but Maureen was gracious, and after several long tedious hours, numerous unintended stomps on innocent feet, and long periods of counseling Cal was at least minimally able to pretend to lead. 

Maureen especially wanted him to do more than the usual fake slow dancing young people their age were so pathetically committed to. With love, and lots of patience, she got him to learn to fox trot, and waltz. It wasn't pretty, but he wouldn't stand out as being any worse than a lot of the people, some older ones too, who couldn't tie their shoes without stepping on someone's feet.

Around 4:00 they agreed a good nap was in order, so off they went to Maureen's bedroom. Cal tried to get frisky, but Maureen fought him to a stand still. This was her time; she was teaching him to dance, how to behave, and most importantly, how to obey. She'd decided after their first couple dates she was the one who would figuratively wear the pants in the family. She'd save him for the big decisions. 

Cal liked the arrangement that had evolved between them. He knew she liked to boss him around, and he enjoyed making her the center of attention. It was fun watching and listening to her; she had a way about her, she could seem to be bossy without being abrasive, at least that's how he saw it. He was confident, he'd already seen it, when there was something really important, his word became the last word. Their relationship was becoming a very positive symbiosis; they both liked it.

Shortly after 7:00 they awakened; it was time to get ready for the dance. Andrea had prepared a light meal; some broiled crab cakes and a tossed salad. She was determined Maureen wouldn't go out and make a pig of herself; it was an old drill, it followed along the lines of the opening scenes of 'Gone with the Wind'. Nobody wanted their daughter to act like a field hand at a party; and Andrea was the classic mother hen. 

Maureen had what she wanted Cal to wear laid out for him as he got out of the shower. She had a pair of dark tan khaki pants, a light blue button down shirt, simple tie with subdued stripes, a pair of dark brown socks, and his dark brown loafers. She capped it off with a light tan sports coat she'd bought just for this occasion. Yeah, she figured, he'd play the preppie tonight.

While Cal got dressed Maureen showered, fixed her hair, did her make up, and got ready. She let her hair fall back and away from her ears' pinning it back with two barrettes. She kept her make up to a minimum, a little pink lip gloss, some pale pink on her cheeks, a little blue eye shadow, and a hint of mascara. 

Underneath she donned a simple dark blue bra and a pair of dark blue panties; both trimmed in lace. The brassiere was specifically designed to match her dress.

It was Maureen's dress that was her pride and joy this night. Since the dance was both inside and out, and the inside would be air conditioned she went ahead and selected something darker, and she hoped more elegant. It was a navy blue number with the most subtle hints of a slightly lighter blue pin striping. It was short sleeved; with slightly puffed capped sleeves and a hint of ruffle. The bodice, that area from her upper waist to her shoulders, had a modestly plunging V-neck, just reaching her breast line, giving a hint of cleavage; it was slightly shirred with another tiny hint of ruffle along the plunge of the dress down between the line of her neck. It gave an alluring hint of sexuality without revealing more than the minimum of her ample bosom. 

The waist of the dress was slightly higher, with a few broad pleats flaring out in a modified A-line style. The hemline was slightly below mid-thigh, and was also trimmed with a minimalist amount of ruffle. She accessorized the dress with a pair of dark nylons, very dark high heeled shoes, a small dark blue patent leather clutch purse, and white gloves. 

While Cal waited stoically out front with her mom and dad, Maureen surveyed herself in the mirror. She knew tonight she'd be the center of attention. She was ravishing, and with Cal at her side she knew this was going to be their night of nights. She stepped into the living room, and got the response she expected. Her mom and dad were stunned. Was this the same little girl who'd suffered so much? Cal was overawed. His first reaction was the think maybe they shouldn't go out; someone might steal her. Then he reflected, this was his girl, let them all feast their eyes. She was his!

Cal smiled, "You're beautiful Maureen. No one could ever doubt that."

She winked, "You look pretty good too."

They walked to the porch, down the steps to Jared's car. He held the door while she got inside. Cal's chest was puffed out like he'd just caught the biggest fish in the ocean; and in a way he had. He'd never felt this proud before. He got in, started the engine, and off they went. 

++++++++++++

Laurie called Sandy; she told her she'd decided not to go. Sandy begged and pleaded, so in spite of the way she felt Laurie agreed to show up but she would only stay for a little while.

Laurie's leukemia had been in remission, but lately, the last several days things seemed to be going wrong. The headaches were back. Every joint in her body ached. She'd lost four pounds, and she had that oh so familiar oh so disquieting sense of ennui. She knew what the symptoms were. Her cancer was back. She knew what that meant; more chemo, more radiation, and more attempts to find someone with bone marrow her immune system wouldn't attack. 

The last time had been terrible. She didn't think she could go through it again. The doctors had repeatedly told her she was lucky; her type of leukemia was the most treatable. It didn't matter much when it meant the loss of her hair again, the vomiting, and the all encompassing pain. She felt like the cure was as bad as the disease. Sure she was young, but maybe this time she'd just call it quits. No one would care if she died; heck no one even really knew she was alive.

She got in her car and pulled away. She hated herself, the way she looked, the way she felt. She was small anyway. When her clothes were new they looked pretty good, but she'd lost the weight and everything just hung on her. Here was she; the late summer pasty faced, claw handed, flat chested wonder on her way to be sneered at and ridiculed. 

She drove along half wondering if she shouldn't just turn around and go back home; nobody would miss her anyway. It was dusky dark, twilight time; and almost impossible to see anything in the half light. She felt horrible. Her head pounded, her ears were ringing, eyes felt scratchy, every bone ached, and every joint throbbed. 

Oh! There was a car up ahead! She blinked! She squinted and squeezed her eyes together, but the lights of the oncoming car were too bright. Her head started to spin around and around, her visual acuity was all awry; she lost control of the car. She flew off the road into an embankment!

++++++++++++

This was it; the big night for Maureen! She was really going to show off her man. Cal was excited too. He wanted to see the inside of the country club, rub elbows with some of the hoi polio, show off his fiancee, and see if Maureen's dancing lessons were any good.

He turned the radio up loud. They were playing the Eagles; his all time favorite group. He and Maureen sang along with the song as they cruised up the highway, 'Take it easy, take it easy, don't let the sound of your own wheels make you crazy, Come on baby...,'

From out of nowhere a car swerved in front of them. Cal hit the brakes, then let off; he veered to the right to avoid the onrushing vehicle. The road had a low, small, soft shoulder; he momentarily lost control. The car appeared to be flipping over. He tried to right it. 

His grandfather's car was old and the seatbelts were old, tattered. Shit! He'd had his high beams on; he bet he blinded the approaching driver. Worse, his grandfather's old car lacked the automatic safety locking devices newer vehicles had; stupidly he'd forgotten to lock the doors. Maureen's seat-belt, frayed and loose snapped. Her car door swung open. The last thing he remembered was letting go of the wheel to grab Maureen to pull her back inside. He reached blindly! He wasn't sure if he got her. That was the last thing he remembered; everything went black!

++++++++++++

It was a beautiful late August afternoon. The sun shone brilliantly in a vividly blue sky; the sun's warm yellow beauty was obscured only occasionally by a passing cumulus cloud. Back at the funeral home the old Baptist minister had delivered a heart warming service. The preacher's retelling of Maureen's sad childhood was breathtaking; there was a gut wrenching poignancy to everything the man said. There hadn't been a dry eye in the place.

They were at the grave site now; it was at the bottom of a gently sloping hill. The grass was immaculately kept; tiny American flags intermittently dotted the places where he supposed veterans were buried. Off to the left was a copse of evergreens, and underneath was the statue of a bronze angel, her arms outstretched. Andrea and Travis were seated under a low dark green pavilion. Heaps of recently turned earth lay nearby under a similarly colored tarp. 

Andrea and Travis were desolate. All their life's purpose, their hopes, their dreams, everything they loved and worked for lay stashed inside a cold grey metal box sitting astride two brass bars, over a hole, waiting to be lowered in the ground.

Cal stood behind them. He had his fingertips on Andrea's shoulders. How had it come to this? Everything had been so perfect. The little boy, the little girl had grown up, they'd rediscovered each other; they'd kindled a special new love. Now she lay inside a long rectangular container; alone, barren, a waxen doll like figure. She had been wrapped in the beautiful navy blue dress she'd bought especially for a dance they never got to attend. 

The old pastor droned on, "ashes to ashes."

Cal hated himself. Why was he allowed to live? Why did it have to be Maureen to be the one who was lost? He'd do anything to trade places with her. She'd deserved a better chance, a real chance.

The old pastor was nearly finished, "dust to dust..."

Cal's heart cried out, 'Why wasn't he more alert? He should have locked the doors, checked the headlights. He was driving too fast, not paying enough attention to the road. Now he'd lost her. She was gone, gone forever.'

What was the old man saying now, "This day we mourn the loss of Maureen; she left our earthly presence too young, too pure; but there's another place, and in that other place there's a celebration, a celebration in heaven because a new young saint is being welcomed home."

Oh Jesus he wished he were dead!

++++++++++++

"Cal!" Cal!"

Someone was shaking him. He must have blacked out for a moment.

"Maureen," he cried! "You're all right!"

She cried out, "Oh thank God. I thought for a moment I'd lost you."

"Maureen I just had this terrible dream. I dreamed I was..."

"Not now Cal, there's somebody in the car across the way; the car that cut in front of us. You call 911. Here's my phone. I'm going over to see if there's anything we can do." 

While Maureen ran across the road to the other damaged car, Cal called the emergency number. He gave a prayer of thanksgiving as he called. Jesus, he'd thought he'd lost her!

Maureen reached the car and saw there was a young woman inside. The girl was unconscious, but Maureen didn't see any injuries. Maybe she was just out, sort of like the way Cal had been.

Cal came across the road, "I called them. They're on their way." He looked in the car. Surprised he said, "I know this girl."

Within minutes the paramedics arrived, while one gave Cal and Maureen a quick check the other one climbed in the damaged vehicle to look over the girl. He hollered back, "I don't see anything. Bring the stretcher. We'll get her out carefully, and get her to the hospital. 

Like the true professionals they were, the two young men got the girl's head braced, and gingerly moved her to the stretcher. Within another few minutes they were on their way. Cal thanked God there were dedicated young people like that. He reminded himself to vote in support of any legislation that came up about them. They deserved it.




A Fool Stumbles Into Love Ch. 09



The police arrived. They took Cal's information, checked his grandfather's registration, called Maureen's dad to come get them, called a towing company, and went on to the other damaged automobile.

Travis and Andrea were there in minutes. Travis asked, "You two OK?"

Maureen answered, "Yes dad, but we still need to go to the hospital."

Andrea nodded her head, "Certainly, we can't be too careful."

That's not it," replied Maureen, "Cal thinks he knows the girl in the other car. He's worried."

"Who do you think she is?" asked Travis.

"I'm not sure. I'll know when I see her name."

The four piled back into Travis's car and took off down the road to the hospital; the same one that housed Jared.

++++++++++++

The Theissens and Cal got to the hospital and went to the emergency room. Cal asked the lady at the triage desk, "Can you tell me who the girl was they just brought in?"

The lady at triage asked, "Are you a relative?"

Cal answered, "I'm not sure."

The lady replied, "We've been trying to reach her father, but no one seems to be home. Her name is Laurie Polhaus. Do you think you could be of any help? We want to take care of her, but we're lacking any insurance information."

Cal answered, "Don't worry, she has coverage, and if she doesn't I'll take care of it."

"Who are you?" asked the triage lady.

"I'm her half brother."

The lady asked, "I think she's awake. Would you like to go see her?"

He answered, "Yes I would." He turned back to Maureen, "Laurie is my half sister; we have the same father."

Maureen nodded. She was partly familiar with the story.

Cal walked back to the room where Laurie was being cared for. He saw her. She looked a sight, but at least she was awake and alert, "Hello, Laurie?"

She knew who he was right away. She didn't know what to say, "You're Cal, my half brother."

"What happened to you?"

She didn't want to trouble this man. She'd never done anything for him when they were younger. There was no reason for her to reach out to him now that she was in trouble, "Nothing really, I'll be all right."

He sat down in the chair someone had placed beside her bed. He could see she was anything but all right. It wasn't in his nature to leave a young woman who was in such obvious distress. He had to do or say something to break the ice, "Laurie we're brother and sister. I know that hasn't meant much, but I would like to be your friend. What do you say?"

She was at the end of her tether. She couldn't bear another round of chemo and radiation all alone. She'd rather be dead, "I have leukemia. It was in remission, but came back. That's why I passed out."

Cal wasn't stupid, "What kind?"

"Acute lymphoblastic leukemia."

He was relieved, "Why that's not so bad. I mean leukemia is bad, but you've got the most treatable kind. I know it takes chemo, radiation, and sometimes, with the right donor a bone marrow transplant." 

He could see he wasn't making any headway. He'd made up his mind. He wasn't going to let her down, "Where's your dad?"

"Europe."

That's bad, good thing I'm here."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to take care of you silly. I'm your brother."

She started to cry, "You're crazy; why would you care what happens to me? What have I ever done for you?" The tears were rippling down her face.

He took her right hand and held it, "True we've had almost no contact, but I know you're an only child. I was an only child too. I know now you got a pretty bad thing. I think you need someone, a friend maybe, maybe just someone to talk to. You know what else?"

She'd stopped crying, but the tears were still trickling down her face, "No what?"

"I remember you. I always wondered what it would be like if we ever became real brother and sister. I thought about you a lot. I even dreamed that how I took up for you, and you thanked me, how you looked up to me. Now look at me. I really can take up for you. Laurie, you're my little sister."

She started crying again, really blubbering.

He smiled, "Now look at you. You're a silly. He reached for a Kleenex and wiped her face. You're with me. I'm your big brother." Cal was having his own 'silly' sensations.

The doctor on call came in the room, "What goes on here?"

"Hi I'm Laurie's brother. She's got a recurrence of leukemia, and it's really getting her down. Tell her doc. Tell her she'd got nothing to worry about."

The doctor asked, "What kind is it?"

Cal told him.

The doctor looked at Laurie, "You've got leukemia?"

Laurie nodded.

He looked at Cal, "Have you given any bone marrow before?" 

Cal lied. He knew they could work it out later, "Sure did. We'll be at again now."

The doctor looked back at Laurie again, "You'll be fine." He looked over at Cal, "Maybe you should go now. Let's give her a chance to get some rest. We'll check her status, and if her leukemia is back we'll move her into a room in the morning."

Laurie was still crying. She looked from Cal to the doctor. 

The doctor stepped in the hall to summon a nearby nurse, while he was at the curtain she asked, "You'll do that? You'll do that for me?"

Cal leaned down and kissed the forlorn young woman, "Look kiddo. I've got all this extra bone marrow, and I don't know what to do with it. If I don't give it away to someone, I'll probably just throw it out." He smiled reassuringly. 

Laurie had stopped crying, though she was still sniffling; now his comment made her break into tears all over again. She squeaked out, "I used to fantasize about you too. I used to pretend you were my real brother. I guess I sort of fell in love with you."

Cal took both his hands and placed them on her cheeks. He leaned down and kissed her fully on the lips, "I am your real brother Laurie, and I love you. I mean that. I really do, we're going to make you well." He made a pretense of looking at a watch he didn't have on, "The doctor said I've got to go right now, but I'll be back tomorrow. That's a promise. Besides there's someone I want you to meet."

She looked at him with wide eyes, eyes brimming with tears waiting to spill out, "This is really happening?"

He smiled back, "This is really happening."

The on duty nurse was at the curtain, "Time to go."

He looked back, "Tomorrow."

Laurie gave him a weak smile, "Tomorrow."

++++++++++++

Cal stepped out and walked back down the hall. Maureen, Travis, and Andrea were in the waiting area. He went over and sat down, exhausted, "The girl, the girl is my half sister. I've known about her for years, but never tried to reach her. It seems she passed out on the road because she has leukemia. She needs bone marrow." He looked at Maureen. He took her two hands and held them in his, "You know how it is. I'm going to give it to her."

She gave him a reassuring smile and a warm hug. This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with; a fool, a hero, a very special man, "Of course you will. That's just who you are, you're my hero."

++++++++++++

This is the epilogue: Well, the story has to end someplace. 

Of course, we know Cal donated his bone marrow. No it wasn't good enough. Laurie still needed the chemotherapy and the radiation. She lost her hair again. She suffered through all the pain and misery all over again, but she wasn't alone anymore. Both Cal and Maureen were with her every step of the way. Everyone knew they would be. The leukemia went into remission again. Cal and Maureen never left her side; after all, she was part of the family.

Laurie did finish her graduate studies. She went on to do research to find new ways to deal with numerous other ailments if not her own. She found a good man, a doctor, and they got along well. Cal was there when they got married. Maureen was there too.

What about Jared? He got better. He hung around for several more years. He got to hold his first, second, and third great grandchild. He bounced them on his knee, took them to stores, bought them junk food, and spoiled them terribly.

Travis found working with Cal wasn't as easy as everyone thought, but he stuck with it long enough to recover his stamina. With Cal's, Andrea's, and Maureen's help he started his own business. He didn't last as long as Jared, life had taken a terrible toll, but he held his grandchildren. He got to see his little girl make a place for herself. When they finally turned the lights out on Travis he left with his head up, a happy successful man.

Andrea stuck it out. Cal and Maureen had a doting grandmother and full time baby sitter for as long as they needed. As the years went by they used to laugh, Ruth had Naomi, and Maureen had Andrea. The parallel didn't exactly fit, but it was close enough.

Then what about Cal and Maureen? Well Maureen was ripe the night they did it that first time. She got pregnant, and then got pregnant again and then again; they had three kids, all girls. She was a good mom, a little strict maybe, but still a damn good mom. What about the wife thing. She made Cal tow the mark; up in the morning, off to work, home for dinner, what did you do, how was your day, here's what's happening this weekend?

Cal lapped it all up, every minute of it. Maureen was the boss. She set the table, made the decisions, and she carried everybody's water. Cal wanted, needed and loved the discipline. 

Together they finished the gazebo; then they had a home of their own built, that one had a gazebo too. Cal bought a pool table for the new home. It didn't matter; he never did beat Maureen, he didn't want to anyway. It never was about winning; it about being able to play with the right person.

Yes, they joined a church. The denomination wasn't important. It had a Sunday school, and an active V.B.S. Maureen sang in the choir. Cal read scripture once a month in the front of the sanctuary. They gave their offering every Sunday, and though they were never quite able to make the full ten percent they really tried.

They did a lot of things; bought a trailer, traveled, gave to charity, looked out for Laurie raised their kids. They did all the things the little boy and little girl once dreamed of doing. They even made up with Sandy. Sure there were good days and bad days, but even the bad days were good because, after all, they were with the right people. Yeah they made mistakes; he never invented that great new software technology, and maybe Maureen never devised the great new whatever it was she wanted, but mostly they did what everyone else was trying to do, that was what, mostly that was just living happily ever after. And they did. 

The end.

++++++++++++

A note or two from the author:

I'm sorry it took such a long time get chapter nine done. I didn't want to end this story, but it had to end someplace.

I apologize for any typos. My two primary editors are my wife and younger daughter. My daughter has end of school stuff, and my wife has been preoccupied.

I always fall in love with my people. I found Cal and Maureen very special. Laurie caught my fancy at the end.

Please, if you feel inclined leave a comment or two; and I'm not fishing, but don't forget to vote. It gives me something to go on. 



A Fool Stumbles Into Love



After three games Maureen asked, "Want to make this a little more interesting?"

Cal knew he was a lousy pool player, but Maureen was worse. It wasn't in his nature to take advantage of any one, especially a girl. He wasn't built that way, "No. It wouldn't be fair."

Maureen insisted, "Oh come on, just a dollar a ball."

Cal was not only poor at pool, he wasn't a gambler. He'd have felt funny playing for a nickel a ball, "No Maureen let's just play for fun."

Maureen answered, "OK."

Cal and Maureen knocked off two more games. Cal won both of them.

All the while Warren, Sandy, and Annie were partly watching, partly talking and arguing, and partly listening to the band. 

Maureen asked again, "Let's play a buck a ball."

"Cut it out Maureen. I feel like I'd be cheating or something."

Maureen contributed a different idea, "Look, you get a ball I'll pay you a buck. If I get a ball you pay me two. That's more than fair."

Cal hesitated. It sounded better, but he'd won every game, and the last game he'd won by five balls. He wanted to be fair, "Look let's make it one for me and three for you. That's fairer maybe."

Maureen answered, "Sure, I get a ball you pay three dollars, you get a ball I pay one."

Cal kept trying to offer Maureen a chance to back out, "Well maybe, but that's the only way I'll play you for money, but I'd really rather not try to take advantage of you." He didn't want to do it; he sort of liked Maureen. It wasn't fair to her.

Maureen laughed, "Don't worry, it's only money. How I piss it away is my business."

They played another game and Call won by four balls. He was deeply chagrined having to take Maureen's money, but she insisted.

They played another game and he won again.

Maureen volunteered to up the ante, "Look let's make $5.00 a ball, even Steven."

Cal answered, "Certainly not, but I will agree to pay out $5.00 for every ball you get, but I'll only take $1.00 for mine, regardless of the difference." Then he added, "Look Maureen, I'm not very good at this, but you're worse. I don't want to cheat you. Come on, let's just play for fun."

Sandy, Warren, and Annie had been watching a little more closely. Warren was a little worried about the direction of the betting, but Sandy thought it was fun.

In fact Sandy offered to change the stakes again, "Why don't you make it $10.00 a ball Cal?"

Cal listened. This was Sandy, the girl who'd been his date. She'd kissed him when he'd protected Maureen her friend. He thought if he let the stakes go to $10.00 for each of Maureen's balls, that would really impress her, "OK," he said, "Maureen, for every ball you make I'll pay out $10.00." 

Maureen giggled, "OK Fast Eddie, rack the balls."

Cal, gentleman extraordinaire, racked the balls. He insisted that he break so Maureen would get the second shot. He even made it a loose rack so the balls would spread around more easily. He racked and took his first shot. The balls, just as he hoped, rolled all over the table. None went in. 

Cal looked the table over. Maureen would have a clear field. He felt a keen sense of true nobility.

Maureen looked the table over too, "I think I'll try the low balls." She started shooting. It didn't take long before a pretty nice crowd was around the table. Maureen wasn't a lousy pool player, she was a pro. It took her about five minutes to clean the table; all seven low balls, plus the eight ball. She didn't miss a shot.

Maureen smiled at Cal, "Let's see that's eight balls, at ten dollars a ball, I think that comes to eighty dollars." 

Cal was stricken. He'd been hustled! He'd seen it happen to others, but never to him. He looked around the tavern. People were all laughing, laughing at him. He reached in his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and counted out the money. He handed it to Maureen, "Here you go. You won it fair and square."

Maureen took the money, "Thanks Cal, want to play again?"

He answered, "No, that's all right."

Everybody in the bar had a good laugh. Call looked around. Maureen had made a fool of him. No, actually, he'd made a fool of himself. This was his fault. He'd remember in the future to trust his initial instincts, "I think I'll go have a beer."

Sandy sidled up and put her arm around him, "She took advantage of you. I'm sorry."

Cal looked down at her. She was so gosh darn pretty, and so sincere, "That's all right. That's how we learn. It was only money after all."

Warren didn't think it was so funny. He watched Sandy and Maureen. They were both in on it. He was sure.

They retreated to their table, all five of them. Maureen used Cal's money and bought everyone a round of drinks.

Everyone at the table was having a good time, everyone but Cal. He knew he'd been swindled, and he knew he was made to look like a fool, by a girl even. After a polite interlude he quietly announced it had been a long day, he was tired, and needed to get to bed. 

Maureen watched Cal leave the tavern. She thought of the Broadway play Chicago and one of its better songs, 'He had it coming'.

Sandy walked him to his truck. When they got there she handed him a piece of paper, "Here's my number. Don't forget you promised me a boat ride."

He was surprised she remembered. He figured she'd had enough of him, and would want to find another guy, a winner. He answered, "Sure, I'll call you tomorrow and we'll set up a time."

Sandy reached up, put her hand on the back of his neck, and kissed him, "Don't forget." She turned and skipped away.

Cal got in his truck, a dark blue Dodge diesel, started the engine and pulled away. He thought, he'd lost a lot of money, but things hadn't turned out too bad. He'd met a nice girl and her shitty friend. Maybe something will come of it? He drove home, a little depressed but hopeful.

Later that evening after Annie and Warren left, Sandy and Maureen got in Sandy's car and drove off.

Sandy said, "That guy Cal is a real fool isn't he?"

Maureen answered, "Why do you say that?"

"Look Maureen you got him for nearly $100.00."

Maureen answered, "No you got him for nearly $100.00. He wanted to be a gentleman, but he wanted to impress you with what a nice person he was. He knew he was lousy at pool; he just thought I was worse. I may have set him up, but you lowered the boom. He didn't want to bet." 

Sandy replied defensively, "That makes him a real asshole doesn't it. Any normal man would have seen the chance to make a quick dollar, but he was too sappy to see the chance."

Maureen rebutted, "Oh he saw the chance. He was just too nice a guy, at least until you backed him into a corner. He only did it to impress you." 

Sandy changed the topic, "Did you know I made another date with him?"

Maureen responded, "Really?"

Sandy, "Yeah, he has this homemade boat. He wants to take me out on the water."

Maureen chided, "You better watch it. He probably likes to fish."

Sandy laughed, "Don't worry; we know who the fish is."

The two girls drove off into the night.



Part Two: 



Cal had everything planned for their first real date. They'd use his boat and go fishing. He called her up, and the first thing she said was, no fishing. Well OK, they could just go out for a boat ride, he'd pack a lunch, and they could pull in at a spot he knew. She said that was great, but she'd meet him at the public put in. They set a time, and Cal was on his way; a date with a great girl, a girl who really liked him.

Around mid-morning Sandy called Maureen, and told her where she'd be, and who she'd be with.

Maureen asked, "Are you sure he's ready for you?"

Sandy laughed, "Is he ready for prime time? No I don't think so, but I'll have some fun."

Maureen admonished, "OK, just remember he's Annie's and Warren's friend. Have fun, but don't let him down too hard."

Sandy giggled, "Don't worry, this one's too stupid."

Maureen wasn't so sure. She thought 'Stupid', her name for Cal, was too much of a gentleman, too much of a romantic, for the likes of Sandy.

Sandy found the boat put in. Cal was already there, and he had his 'vessel' already in the water. He looked good, she thought. Better than she had a right to expect. He was pretty muscular, no Adonis, but pretty well built. He still hadn't found a comb for his hair, but out in the sunny sky it didn't look half bad. He had on a wrinkled white T-shirt, a pair of equally wrinkled up khaki shorts, and of all things a pair of work boots, at least they were low cut; a real Beau Brummel.

She took one look at the boat and nearly gave up. He'd said it was homemade and a hybrid and he wasn't kidding. It was a very homely looking glorified rowboat with an outboard motor strapped to the rear, or aft, or whatever they called the back end of a boat. It did have a small windshield, and he'd fashioned some sort of stupid looking umbrella thing to the middle, but otherwise it had more the look of a miniature Titanic, something ready to sink.

She smiled as she got out of her sports car, "Hi, are we all ready?"

Cal beamed, she'd actually come, "We sure are. Since you didn't want to fish, I made a picnic lunch. How do you like fried chicken, potato salad, and beer? I brought a bottle of white wine just in case you didn't like beer."

Oh great she thought, grease, starch, and a carbohydrate drink, "Sounds wonderful," she said, "I just love it."

He helped her climb aboard. She looked marvelous, but a little under dressed. She had on one of those tight fitting summer T-shirts. It was a beautiful pale blue that matched her eyes. She had on a neat looking pair of white shorts, and tennis shoes, "Do you have any sunscreen? It could be a hot one today."

Shit she thought, "No I forgot."

He grinned broadly. He figured she'd forget, "Don't worry I have mine."

He settled her in the front of the boat. Gave her his bottle of Coppertone, and scampered aft to the motor, "I'll get us started, and we'll ride down the bay. I know a great place where we can stop for lunch. He reached down and pulled up a big plastic bag, "Look I brought a blanket!"

Great she thought; I've got Wal-Mart sun lotion, and a scratchy army blanket to look forward to. He's going to pay for this, "This is terrific Cal!"

He started the outboard motor, untied the rope that held the boat to the landing, and started down the channel. In no time they were cruising along at a terrific clip. He knew how fast the boat could go, and he knew the places in the water to avoid. Sandy sat up front, and as he powered the boat to go faster she got a good whiff of spray and a real taste of the breeze.

In a few moments Sandy forgot she was with a jackass on a stupid old homemade boat. The wind and the water were delightful. Soon she was soaking wet, hair flowing outward, and cheeks aflame. She was enjoying every minute of it. 

True to his word Cal knew a great place. It took them about thirty minutes to get there. He drove the boat right up on the beach, hopped out, and plopped the metal anchor on the sand.

He ran back and held out a hand, "Here Sandy let me help you out."

She eagerly took his hand. The boat ride was more fun than she expected. Most of her past boat trips had been on much larger and much more elaborate craft. She never imagined she could have this much fun on anything this cheap.

"Want to go for a walk?" 

"Sure," responded Sandy, "is there anything around here to see?"

Cal answered, "It's a surprise."

He held her hand and together they walked along the short beach till they came to a path, "This way," he said.

Sandy followed, but wasn't much impressed.

He walked her around a short bend and pointed, "Look."

"What," Sandy asked?

"Look there," he said.

All she saw was an old graveyard, "That?"

"Come on over and look," he said.

Sandy walked over and checked out the headstones, "So what."

"Look how old they are," 

There were four stones, two were large, and two were much smaller. She read the dates and the inscriptions. It was obviously a mother and father and two children. The dates on the graves placed them in the mid Eighteenth Century, "Yeah," she said, "I see four graves from the 1700's."

Cal was looking at them like they were sacred treasures, "I found these graves when I was a boy. You're the first person I've shared them with. I don't think anybody else knows they're here. I think its kind of sad, two children and two parents, and they're so old."

She looked at the stones with no interest, "Yeah sad, and old." Was this supposed to be something special? Sandy had been all over Europe, a place Cal had obviously never visited. It wasn't unusual to find graves eight even nine hundred years old in the cemeteries in Europe, "I'm hungry. You said you had chicken?"

Cal was a little disappointed. He thought for sure Sandy was the sentimental type, and she'd be impressed by the graves. He guessed she wasn't as sentimental as he'd thought. That was OK though, "Sure come on back to the boat. I'll get the grub out, and we can chow down."

Sandy was incredulous, did he say grub? Did he say chow down?' She smiled, "Yeah, let's eat some grub."

Cal's smile covered every inch of his face. He led her back to the boat. Spread the big brown army blanket, and placed the picnic basket and cooler in the middle.

Sandy looked at the spread; unbelievable! She saw a picnic basket. She thought of the musical Oklahoma. She was with Judd Fry, "Great, you brought everything but the ants!"

Cal whispered. He put his finger to his mouth, "Careful, don't let them know we're here." He smiled.

Jesus thought Sandy, "Oh boy real paper plates, paper napkins, and plastic forks. You brought the works. Let's dig in!"

Cal was so proud of himself.

Together they ate the chicken, potato salad, and both had a beer.

Sandy thought, in spite of everything the chicken was really good, not greasy at all, and the potato salad had just the right mixture of mayonnaise, mustard, and sesame seed. The beer was icy cold, and a great domestic brand, "This is great Cal. Where did you buy the chicken?"

"I didn't buy it. I cooked it myself last night." He was so proud. He'd done all that for her. He didn't understand why she only ate one more piece.

Sandy acknowledged how good everything tasted, but to think his fingers had been handling everything she ate was a turn off. Though it wouldn't have been as good, she'd have preferred some greasy KFC, "It's delicious Cal, but I have to watch my weight."

He looked her over. Her clothing had dried. Earlier he was able to see everything she had, her boobs, her brown aureoles, even her puss had shown through, "You look great to me just the way you are. I wouldn't try to lose any weight."

Sandy hoped she looked great. She spent enough time and money at the spas, "Thank you Cal," she said sweetly.

They sat side by side on the blanket. She talked a mile a minute about anything and everything. He had trouble keeping up. Half the stuff didn't make any sense anyway. He stretched back on the blanket, putting his hands behind his head, "I really like it here."

Sandy leaned down beside him, "I do too." She started kissing him. While she kissed him she took her hands and started playing up and down his body, down around his legs, on the insides of his thighs, around the nape of his neck and along his rib cage.

Almost immediately he felt his manhood stirring. He returned her kiss, but felt self conscious about the condition of his pants.

Sandy saw what was happening, and started moving her fingers closer to the site of his embarrassment. How backward could one man be she thought? She crept her hand closer and closer to his crotch.

Cal rolled on his side facing her and tried to touch some of her body parts. He wrapped his arms around her, but every time he got anywhere near her breasts or inner thighs, she pushed him away. It pleased him immensely that she fended him off. It confirmed his earlier impression that she was a very good girl; probably a virgin even. He'd known she was a good girl all along.

They kissed, giggled, and laughed for quite a while. Then, like an alarm going off Sandy sat up, "What time do you think it is?"

Cal looked around, "Maybe 2:00, why?'

Sandy stood up, "I have to get back. My mother will be expecting me."

What a great girl Cal thought she was concerned about her mother, "OK, You tidy up while I pack up the debris and get the boat back in the water." In no time he had everything stowed away, the boat in the water, motor running, and powering back up the bay.

All the way back Sandy sat under the makeshift umbrella, glad it was there. 

When they got back Cal helped her out, "Can I see you again?"

Sandy answered, "Sure, call me. We can go to a movie."

"Great," answered Cal, as he hoisted the boat back on its trailer, "I'll call you tomorrow."

Sandy was already halfway to her car, "Don't call too early," and zoom, off she went.

Cal drove home the happiest man alive. He and Sandy had had one great day. She liked his boat, ate his chicken, and they'd made out. What could have been better? When he got home he went straight to the newspaper to see what was playing. Cal was falling in love!

On the way home Sandy called Maureen on her cell, "Maureen you'll never guess."

Maureen responded on the other end of the line, "No tell me."

Sandy went on about how the fool had made his own chicken and salad, taken her to look at some stupid graves, and how they'd played like two teenagers on the beach. It was all too surreal!

Maureen listened. She laughed at the appropriate times. She thought what a fool the man was, wasting his time on Sandy. He must really like her, and that was too bad. He sounded pretty backward, but pretty damned sincere too. He might not know what he was doing, but she figured some girl was going to find him. Whoever it was they'd be pretty lucky. She knew one thing, that girl wasn't Sandy, and it sure wasn't going to be her.



Two More Dates!



Cal got the newspapers and found the entertainment section. He checked out the movies, found a pretty good PG-13, and called Sandy the next day. She was ecstatic! 

He picked her up at the tavern in his freshly washed and waxed truck two evenings later. They went to the movies. She wanted popcorn, and insisted he put the container between his legs on the seat. All through the movie she ate popcorn, breathed in his ear, and rubbed up and down the insides of his legs. Three or four times she found his manhood and rubbed that too.

Sandy seemed to enjoy the movie. It was a romantic comedy starring Paul Rudd, an honest hardworking kind of guy, and Reese Witherspoon a rich babe who fell in love with his honesty and sincerity. In the end everyone knew they were meant for each other. 

He dropped her off back at the tavern, and asked if she'd like to go out again. She said sure. He asked if she'd like to go out to eat. She thought that would be a great idea.

Two nights later he was with her again in his truck. He'd made reservations at one of the nicer restaurants in town. They drove down, and after a brief wait were seated. 

Sandy ordered lobster, so he had to stick with something on the less expensive side of the menu. She asked if the lobster was too expensive, but he decried the cost. He said he had plenty of cash. Actually he was strapped. He was on a tight budget owing to some college courses he was planning to take in September, and Maureen's fleecing had left him kind of dry. 

Still it was a great meal. Sandy took quite a few liberties with Cal's thighs under the table. He worried if this kept up he'd have to give his little soldier a dishonorable discharge one of these nights.

Once dinner was over, though Cal had hoped they'd sit and spoon in the truck a while, Sandy insisted she had to get home early. Her mother needed her, so Cal got her back to her car at the tavern by 9:00, and drifted on back home alone.




A Fool Stumbles Into Love



As soon as Cal dropped Sandy off she called one of her other boyfriends, a fellow named Skip. There was a party at the club, and she didn't want to miss it. Besides all the fawning and mooning over Cal had left her horny, so she thought she'd give Skip a treat. 

Of course, she called Maureen, and told her to meet her at the country club. Maureen asked about her date with Cal. Sandy said it was great, but he was her early boy, she needed a late night with somebody else.

Maureen was amazed at Sandy's cheek. She knew that 'Stupid' was all cow eyed over her. She only hoped Sandy would let him down easy. She got up, pulled herself together, and drove off to meet her girlfriend at the country club.

The girls met at the club, where they hunkered down over glasses of wine. Sandy wanted to keep Maureen informed about what she intended to do with the idiot Cal. Maureen thought the whole thing was a joke; not worth the time to tell the story.

Sandy explained, "Cal makes stuff. He makes boats, and chairs and shit like that, all very stupid. I don't really like him, but he's good for a few trips to the movies and some free dinners."

Maureen chuckled, "Sandy you're a bitch."

Sandy added, "You know what else is fun? He gets so excited every time I touch him. I wiggle my finger at his scrawny ass and he gets turned on. I don't think he's been with a girl in years. For all I know he might be virgin."

Maureen laughed at that, "A twenty something college educated virgin; that I'd like to see."

Sandy yawned, "You can have him when I'm done."

Maureen smiled, "He won't be a virgin then."

Sandy answered, "Oh yes he will."

Maureen, "You mean?"

Sandy, "Right, he'll get nothing from me."

Maureen laughed out loud, "You really are a bitch."

Sandy looked across the hall of the country club and saw Skip, "Look I've got to go now; kind of horny you know, and I owe Skip one."

Maureen smiled, "See you later." She watched as her friend walked off. She thought about 'Stupid'. She was almost certain he wasn't a virgin, but she bet he hadn't had much experience. Shit, neither had she; there had been the backseat of an Explorer in high school, and one time at her old boyfriend's Frat house when she got drunk. That was it. 

She reflected on 'Stupid' a little longer. What was his real name, Cal something? He liked to fiddle with carpentry. Her father was out of town on business, and she'd wanted to surprise him with something. Maybe 'Stupid' could help her out.



Chapter Two

Part Thee:

Cal had just hung up from a short conversation with Sandy. She agreed to meet him at the tavern that evening. They'd plan to have a drink or two, and then slip out to the lake. The town was holding its annual fireworks display, and if they used his boat, they'd get a great view of the ground action from the water. It wasn't the Fourth of July or anything like that. It was August, but the anniversary of the town's first settlement was in August, and the American Legion always had a carnival and there was always a big fireworks display the first night.

He got to the Tavern at 5:30 just like they'd agreed. He walked in; the place was only about half full. He didn't expect to find a big crowd; he was only looking for Sandy. He sidled over to a group of her friends and ordered a coke, and he waited around till 6:00. She was late. 

One of the guys asked, "You waiting for Sandy?"

Cal answered, "Yes, have you seen her?"

All the guys and girls around the bar had seen her. She'd stopped in a little ahead of Cal and met another boy called Skip. They'd left just before Cal got there, but no one told him any of that.

The guy who asked if he was there to see Sandy told him, "No, no one's seen her today."

All the others sitting around sort of looked back and forth or nodded their heads at each other, but no one had anything more to say.

Cal figured he'd wait a little while longer, "She said she'd meet me here. We have plans to watch the fireworks from my boat."

One of the other men said, "She's a great girl. You're lucky."

Call smiled, maybe he stuck his chest out a little, "Yeah, I like her a lot. We've been out several times."

A couple of the men chuckled. One said, "She talks about you all the time."

That made him feel even better, "Nice things I hope."

One of the girls said, "You'd be surprised."

Cal was glad to hear these things. It tended to confirm what he already thought, that maybe she was getting serious about him. He knew he was serious about her. Then, to his discomfiture Maureen walked in.

Maureen knew he'd be there. Sandy had stood him up for the chance to watch the fireworks with another guy. Sandy sent Maureen to make excuses. She walked over to where he was sitting, "Hi Cal. I have some bad news."

Cal knew. Here it comes, "What Sandy can't make it."

"No she's staying home with her mother."

He grew concerned, "Hope it's not serious" He overheard some of the other people laugh. Pretending not to hear he asked Maureen, "Maybe I should go over?"

Maureen put a stop to that, "No don't do that. She'll be too busy. Besides I have something I want to show you." She pulled out a couple scraps of paper, "Sandy said you're sort of a handyman, a do it yourselfer when it comes to carpentry."

"I've done some things. Why?"

Maureen showed him the little pile of papers, "My Dad's away on business, and I thought I'd make him something as a kind of surprise for when he came back."

Cal wasn't sure he especially liked Maureen. She'd taken him at pool, but this interested him, "Yeah, what have you got in mind?"

Maureen opened the wad of papers, "I thought I'd build him a gazebo."

Cal refused to take this seriously, "Like a model he could put on the mantle."

"No," answered Maureen, "like a real gazebo he could sit under in his back yard." She pushed the papers at him.

He took them and looked them over. He could see she or someone had taken some time to put it all together, but he could also tell the planner didn't have a clue what they really wanted. He didn't want to hurt this girl's feelings, but he had to be honest, "This looks like a good start, but to tell the truth, the way this is laid out the thing won't work."

Maureen had put some time in on the gazebo idea, and was a little put off, "What do you mean it won't work?"

Cal opened the papers out further, "Here see this, that's not right, look this here won't work, and that's wrong and needs to be changed." He saw the hurt on her face. He realized they were her plans, "Look let's sit down and reexamine what you've got." He wanted to be nice, "I think it's good as a kind of embryonic concept. With a little nip here and a tuck there I think we could come up with a pretty good plan."

Maureen had been on her way to telling him off, but maybe, by what he said, it wasn't all that bad an idea, "You think you could tidy it up a little."

"Sure," said Cal. He looked at the barmaid, "Could we have a couple sheets of computer paper and a pencil?" 

The waitress brought over what he requested. Maureen and Cal walked over to a nearby booth where the light was better and sat down. For two hours all anyone could see from the bar was two people intensely discussing and arguing about how to build a gazebo.

Around 7:30 outside the sun was setting. Cal suggested, "Why don't we put this stuff aside for a while?"

Maureen was worn out, "Good idea."

He said, "I'm sorry Sandy couldn't make it, but you're here, if you don't have any plans maybe you would like to watch the fireworks from my boat?"

Maureen had nothing better to do, she felt guilty about robbing him the other day at the pool table, and she felt bad about lying to him about Sandy. He wasn't exactly her cup of tea, but she could write it off as her good deed for the day, "Sure, why not."

Cal looked her over. Immediately he knew he was being stupid. This woman was alert to that sort of thing, still he noticed her, how she looked, what she had on. She was pretty, prettier than Sandy in a lot of ways, and she had a better shape. Not only that, she was brainy. She was really into the gazebo thing, and she picked up on everything he said. She had a serious mind. He was crazy about Sandy, but she was a little flighty at times.

Maureen's antennae went up. She knew instinctively when she was being sized up, and Cal had about as much subtlety as an elephant. She stretched just enough to let her bosom press out against her blouse. She pulled her stomach in. Wait a minute she thought. She wasn't into showing off, and she certainly didn't want to give 'Stupid' here a show. 

She got up and dropped a $5.00 on the table, "I'll pay. I owe you anyway."

Cal took her $5.00 and pushed it in her hand, "No you don't. I'm the man, it's my treat."

Maureen sighed thinking, stupid is as stupid does, "Suit yourself."

They walked out and got in his truck.

Cal and Maureen rode down to the put in where he worked to get his boat in the water. To his surprise she pitched in and helped.

He watched her work the hoist. The blouse she had on was navy blue, and she kept it outside her knee length shorts. She had shapely, muscular, legs, and overall a very well built frame. Comparing her to Sandy he knew was a mistake. Sandy was his girl, and he really liked her, but Maureen's shape certainly had it all over Sandy. Maureen had thick dark hair. He liked that. Shoot he thought, one girl at a time. Still he liked the idea that Maureen was somewhat intellectual.

He powered the boat to where they'd get the best view of the ground display and the pyrotechnis. He'd collected pillows and several blankets in order to make the boat as comfortable as possible. 

They squatted down in the bottom and got ready for the show. It was a little tight, and Maureen found her best position was to lean up against Cal and rest her elbow and forearm on his lap. She was careful not to get too close to his crotch. Sandy had warned her about this guy's proclivity to get hard at the drop of a hat.

The ground display started, and they both had a good time watching the picturesque scenes made by the works. When the sky works started both were warmed to the idea of a good show.

Maureen was enjoying the displays. Cal didn't have a lot to say, but what he did say almost was always interesting, and he behaved like a gentleman. Still, she was tired, it had been a long day, and she was by nature an early riser. Some people she remembered were owls and some were larks. She guessed she was a lark. By 8:30 she was ready to go home, but she didn't want to spoil the evening for him. She figured it was the least she could do. Even so it was tough to keep her eyes open.

Cal could see she was tired, "Here let's relocate." He moved around a little, shuffling the pillows and blankets into a makeshift bed. He laid his body on the harder flooring of the boat, "Lay on top of me, it'll be more comfortable."

Maureen was pooped. She readily agreed. Together they lay in the boat, he in the hard wooden bottom, her a little atop and beside him. 

Cal lay there feeling physically schizophrenic. Everything touching the floor of the boat was in agonizing pain, but everywhere he was touched by Maureen he was in a state of heavenly bliss. The damn boat was hard and uncomfortable, but she was so soft, warm, and wonderful. He kept his arm around her for support, and sucked up the pain for the joy of her warm presence.

Maureen snuggled in close to Cal. She figured he was a little uncomfortable, but didn't especially care. She was so relaxed and so at ease. She liked the situation. She rested her head on his chest. He was so comfortable to be with. For want of a better descriptor she thought she felt sort of kittenish. After a few minutes she dozed off to sleep.

Cal sat, or lay semi-prone, immobile, uncomfortable, stiff, and sore for nearly two hours. The fireworks display was stupendous, and if he wasn't so damned cramped up he might have enjoyed it. He dare not move, one false move might awaken Maureen, and he didn't want to do that. She might want to leave, and he liked being with her.

She looked so damned peaceful all curled up on him. Every now and then she squirmed. Damn she had some hard elbows! He discreetly brushed his hands through her hair. Wow was it thick, soft, and it smelled good too! Crap! Every time she moved he experienced a shaft of pain somewhere. 

By the light of the exploding fireworks he could see her face. She was terrific! She had long eye lashes, and little round ears. Each ear had a tiny gem stone in it; they looked like little emeralds. She had a pretty little turned up nose, and a great heart shaped mouth. Her lips looked damned kissable, like they were all puckered up.

Cal swore he never saw a mouth that looked like hers before. That was definitely one kissable mouth. He did something stupid. He took his fingertips and touched her lips. She wriggled around. It must have tickled. He really liked it. He didn't do it again though, too dumb he thought.

Finally, close to 10:00 he decided he couldn't hold out any longer. He nudged her head slightly, "Maureen."

She didn't move.

He nudged her again, a little harder, "Maureen."

She grudgingly started to move, "What?" She nodded her head, "Where are we?"

Cal told her, "The fireworks are over."

Maureen stirred around. She fumbled around with her legs and arms, feeling stiff, she asked, "What fireworks?" Then she remembered, "Oh them, what time is it?" 

Cal answered, "It's past 10:00."

Maureen was coming awake, "Oh shit. I'm supposed to meet Sandy at the club." Then crap she remembered; it had been her job to lie to Cal. She hoped she hadn't given anything away.

"Isn't Sandy with her mother?"

Maureen had to think of something, "She was, but a nurse was supposed to be on the way to relieve her. I was going to see her at the club to find out if she needed anything."

It sort of made sense to Cal, but only in that odd convoluted way things made sense to women, "I'll drive you over." 

Cal wasn't a country club type of guy. He'd never been there, never been invited by anyone, never been asked to any of their dances, had little to do with most of the people who belonged, and fully understood why. He just wouldn't have fit in.

Maureen was sitting up and stretching, "No that's all right, just take me back to the tavern. I'll drive from there." 

Cal asked, "You sure? Do you feel all right?"

Maureen answered, "Yeah, just get me to the tavern."

Cal got the motor going, powered back to the put in, helped Maureen out of the boat and into his truck. He could tell she was at least as stiff and sore as he was. As they drove to the tavern he asked, "You're sure you're all right?"

Maureen responded, "Oh yeah."

Once at the tavern she got out of his truck. He walked her to her car. Before she got in she put her hand on his neck, reached up and kissed him. Even in the dark she could see him blush. She thanked him for the fireworks, got in her car and drove off. As she left she recollected how Sandy said he acted like he was a virgin. Maureen wondered if Sandy wasn't right.

As she sped away he yelled, "My pleasure!" He decided he liked Maureen in spite of the pool hustle.

Cal decided to go in the tavern and get a beer before heading home. He was tired, but believed he needed something first. When he walked inside it was like everyone in the room stopped talking and turned to look at him.

There was some hushed laughter, and a few giggles. One of the girls asked if he'd had a good time. He told them he and Maureen had watched the fireworks from his boat. Someone said something about fireworks to come. He didn't understand what they meant, and paid it no attention. He got his beer, quaffed it down, and went home.



Part Four:



The next day Cal was off from work so he had some free time. He made two phone calls. 

First he called Sandy. He wanted to find out about her mother, and to see when they could go out again. When he reached her he asked, "Hi how's your mom?"

Sandy answered, "About as well as can be expected."

Then Cal asked, "If its OK could we go out again?"

"Sure when," responded Sandy.

"How about tonight," asked Cal?

Sandy answered, "Tonight's not good, how about tomorrow night?"

Cal replied, "A movie sound good?"

Sandy answered," yeah sure, and hung up."

Sandy rolled back over in bed.

Skip, the guy with whom she spent the night asked, "Who was that?"

She answered, "Nobody just Cal. Go back to sleep."

Cal was satisfied; another date with Sandy, his new girlfriend. Now he had to make his second call. He dialed Maureen's number; after four rings Maureen picked it up. He asked, "Hello is this Maureen?"

She recognized Cal's voice, "Now who else would answer this line?"

Immediately flustered and on the defensive he replied, "Sorry, I just wondered, if you weren't busy, maybe we could look over your backyard to see where the gazebo could go."

Maureen asked, "You know how to get here?"

Cal answered, "Yes." He started to explain the route, but she cut him off.

"Just shut up and come on over."

Cal laughed, "Sure I'll be there in a jiffy."

Maureen scolded, "Cut out the jiffy. I stopped being a jiffy when I was eight. Just get over here." She didn't know what to do about Cal, or where she stood with Sandy. She'd had a good time the night before, but felt a little queasy about the lying.

Earlier that morning Sandy had called, and given her an earful. What Sandy was doing was becoming unconscionable. She didn't know whether to tell Cal or let him find out for himself.

Cal corrected himself, "Oops, I mean I'll be right there."

Maureen answered more gently over the phone, "That's better. I'll put some coffee on." Sandy was going to hurt this boy, she was becoming a part of it, and she felt guilty.

Cal was over about an hour later. It had taken longer than he planned. He ironed a clean T-shirt and had to load several tools in his truck. When he arrived he went up the front steps of Maureen's parent's home, which was where she was currently living, and rang the bell.

Maureen answered. 

She opened the door and Cal stood there with his mouth agape. She was wearing a summer jumper; not exactly a sundress and not a romper either; more a loose fitting dress with attached shorts. Her hair was done up in loose pig tails, and she had on white tennis shoes with thick white socks. Cal saw her and thought she looked very fetching; a lot prettier and a lot more feminine than he'd remembered her.

The expression on his face was just what she wanted, "You to coming in, or just going to stand there all day?"

Cal walked in the front door, "You want to check on where we can build a gazebo?"

"Yeah, but let's talk first."

"OK."

Maureen led the stupefied Cal back to the kitchen where she poured each of them a cup of coffee, 

"Cream of sugar?"

Cal answered, "Yeah, OK."

"OK what?"

Cal recovered, "Oh just some cream thanks."

Maureen handed him a cup of coffee, "Let's get a couple things straight."

Cal was still staring at her dress, how it wrapped around her breasts and her hips, "Yeah."

She went on, "I'm not hiring you. I can't pay you anything. You're only doing this as sort of a friend. You're just here to help out. I can buy the wood, nails, and so forth, but you'll have to work for free."

Cal couldn't take his eyes off her. He was having a libidinous reaction. She was so pretty. He couldn't help himself. She had red lipstick on, and her eyes, the way they were made up, looked so exotic and so big. She had dark hazel eyes, and they were enormous, but beautiful enormous. He thought about the emerald studs she'd had on the night before, how they matched her eyes.

Maureen stopped, "What are you looking at?"




A Fool Stumbles Into Love



Cal stumbled, "I'm sorry. I never saw you in the daylight before."

She gave him a disgusted look, "Come on, let's go out back. "She took his hand, "Come on."

Like a puppy, he followed along. 

They walked all around the yard. She held his hand, and showed him the different places where she thought a gazebo would work. She talked about each potential site, trying to give him some clues about what she thought would work best in each place.

After showing him several places she asked, "Well what do you think?"

He'd been day dreaming, "About what?"

"About where to put the gazebo?"

He'd already made up his mind about that. The first place she picked was far and away the best location. He didn't mention that, "Would it be too much trouble if I asked you something?"

Maureen was getting impatient, "What?"

Cal stood there for what seemed like an hour; actually it was more like fifteen seconds. Even then he thought he was going too fast. He was scared. He looked at her. He looked at her lips. He wanted to kiss those lips. Jesus, he felt like a complete fool. What kind of dumb ass was he? How stupid, "You have a boyfriend?" 

She laughed, "Don't know, haven't decided."

"Decided about what," he asked?

Maureen thought, like clay in my hands. She stepped forward, put the fingers of her left hand to the nape of his neck. She leaned forward and kissed him, "Just don't know yet."

He was breathing heavily. He hadn't felt like this since he was in the ninth grade and he was with Carolyn Marcum. He put his arms around her, and he kissed her again, "Thanks," he said.

Maureen looked at him like he was some kind of asshole, "Thanks for what?"

He tried to pull her close again.

She pushed him away, "Down boy,' she was a little nervous, "have you picked a location?"

Cal did the best he could to recover," Uh, I think the first place is the best, has the flattest hardest ground. We can sink some footers, and build the floor on them." He kept watching her facial expressions. God she was pretty.

"How long do you think it will take you," she paused, 'to get the whole thing done I mean."

He came back to earth, "A week, maybe ten days if it doesn't rain."

She asked, "Where are you going to get the supplies?"

Beautiful cheeks he thought. She has dimples, "Lowe's I guess."

Maureen proffered, "You go ahead order the stuff, and pay for it, and I'll pay you back."

He'd already decided, no matter how much it cost, he'd cover everything, "No I'll get it."

She responded, "Yes, you get it and I'll pay for the materials."

"No I'll do it all," he said.

She put her hands on her hips, "You're really stupid Caleb Burkheim. You do the work. I'll help, but I'll pay for the materials." She caught herself. She'd used his full name. She hoped he hadn't noticed.

He'd noticed. She'd called him by name. How could she have known, if she hadn't asked around? He stepped over close like he was going to kiss her again, but she pushed him away.

"Oh no, big boy, you're Sandy's boyfriend," She knew that wasn't really the case, but she was having trouble with her emotions. She liked him.

He stuttered a little, "Gee, it's really nice you said my whole name. I was beginning to wonder if you knew it"

"Oh just shut up. Let's figure what supplies we'll need."

After calculating their supply and equipment needs, and calling them in to Lowe's Cal suggested they go to the carnival. Maureen had nothing else to do, and so she agreed. 

At the carnival they visited the American Legion stand first and made a donation. Then they wandered around checking out the rides, the concessions, and all the gaming sites. 

He bought her cotton candy, pizza, and they shared a coke. It cost him a little money but he managed to win her one of the smaller stuffed animals. Maureen took it, but declaimed his efforts as silly and unnecessary. They took a turn on the Ferris wheel, but declined the Octopus. 

While they were strolling near the music stand Maureen saw Sandy with a group of men. One of them was the guy she'd decided to reward the other night. Maureen turned to Cal, "This has been very nice, but," looking at her wristwatch she added, "I need to get back now." 

Cal had been having a good time, but deferred, "Sure, besides," he said, "I'd like a second look at our gazebo site before the wood and everything gets there."

They drove back to Maureen's and walked around rechecking her parent's backyard. Maureen thought about the fun they'd had at the carnival, the fireworks the night before, his determination to build her a gazebo even after she'd ripped him off. This was a nice boy. Actually boy was the wrong term. Regardless of some of the backwardness, he was every bit a man. She didn't like what Sandy what was doing. She liked her part in it even less. 

Near the end of the backyard recheck Cal made another blundering attempt at a kiss. Maureen pushed him away, "No way bonehead, you're Sandy's meat."

Cal retreated. Yeah he thought. He was Sandy's boyfriend. Not completely certain of her last answer he asked again, "You say you don't have a boyfriend."

Maureen gave him the same response, "I said not yet."

"Have you got anybody in mind?"

Maureen smirked, "I'm not sure."

Cal was a little disappointed, "Let me know when you decide."

"I might," she answered. She walked him to his truck, opened his door for him, and saw him off. Watching him pull down the dirt road she gave herself a little hug. As the warm afternoon breeze whispered through her hair, she murmured, "I've got to stop her." She went inside to get fixed up.

While Maureen was inside showering, selecting a different dress, and picking out the make up she'd need for the showdown, Sandy was busy with Skip and her other friends. They'd left the carnival and gone straight back to the tavern; the plan was to have a few more rounds of something alcoholic, a nap at home, a late night at the country club, followed by another something special for Skip. 

On his way home Cal decided to stop off at the tavern. He hadn't seen Warren in a couple days, and hoped he'd catch up with him. One of the things he had on his mind that needed Warren's attention was the gazebo. There were some situations where another set of man's hands would be needed. He couldn't think of a better set than Warren's. 

As he pulled into the lot at the tavern he saw Sandy's car. Great, he thought. He could find Warren, set a day for him, and do a reset on his date with Sandy the next evening. 

Walking in the bar he saw her. She was with that Skip fellow and some of his cohorts. He didn't especially like Skip, not just because he seemed always be hanging around Sandy, but because the guy had a reputation. The closer he got to their stools the less comfortable he felt; it looked like Sandy was doing the hanging. In fact she had her arms draped all over Skip's shoulders.

When he got close enough he said, "Hi, everyone having a good time."

Sandy twirled around, if she was surprised she hid it very well, "Cal, where have you been. I thought we had an afternoon date."

"No, we're up for tomorrow night." He looked at Skip, "How you doing?"

Skip replied, "Just great old buddy."

Sandy moved to Cal and wrapped her arms around him, "I'm sorry about the fireworks. Maureen called me, said you and she were quite an item last night."

That was news to Cal, "Not exactly. We watched the fireworks from my boat, but she went to sleep. I took her home when they were over." He wanted to get off that subject, "I'm going to build her a gazebo."

"A what?"

"A gazebo, you know a sheltered structure. She wants one for her father, and I agreed to build it for her."

Sandy smiled, "I know what a gazebo is. Why do you have to build it? Can't she get someone else?"

"She sort of asked me."

"What now she's your girlfriend."

Cal was baffled. It was just a gazebo. "No she's not my girlfriend. You are."

Skip and the guys chuckled.

Sandy acted like she was hurt, "You could have offered to build me a gazebo."

Cal was completely duped, "Come on. She asked, and I said I'd help. That's all." He added, "Heck, she even had some plans she'd worked up."

Sandy laughed, "I don't care. Maureen's Dad deserves one." She did another pirouette, "I have to go now. There's a dance at the country club tonight." She looked at Cal, You're not a member are you?"

Cal sheepishly answered, "No."

Sandy smiled, "Too bad. Well have to go." She turned around and gave every man there a kiss on the cheek. Last to be kissed was Cal, "Bye now. See you tomorrow." 

Cal watched her go. He wondered why she didn't invite him to the country club, but then again he knew why. He paid for his beer. Said good bye to all the guys standing around, and left. 

Later that night Maureen found Sandy at the country club, "Sandy we need to talk."

"You bet we do," responded Sandy.

Maureen started first, "I'm uncomfortable with what going on with you and Cal."

"Really," responded Sandy.

"You shouldn't be taking advantage of him like this. He really likes you, and he thinks you're his girlfriend."

"Well he is Maureen."

"No you're not. You're just using him. What's going to happen when he finds out the truth?"

Sandy was a little tired of Maureen's involvement with what she was doing with Cal, "What's the difference to you Maureen? I'll be back in school in a few days, and you'll be off doing whatever it is you do. Cal will have had a little fantasy, and no one will be the wiser."

"That's not true and you know it Sandy. He's falling in love with you. He'll be hurt."

Sandy wasn't moved, "Oh so what! What do they say? Into life a little rain must fall. So he gets hurt. He'll survive." 

"Look Sandy, let this one go."

Sandy gave Maureen a suspicious look, "What's your interest in this guy. You afraid if he finds out he won't build your gazebo?"

It had been evolving over the past several days, but Maureen finally realized she no longer liked her friend Sandy, "I could give a shit abut the gazebo. Cal's a nice guy. He deserves better."

Sandy laughed, "Just think of all the fun you'll have consoling him after I'm gone." She walked away, leaving her girlfriend to stew.

Maureen didn't stay. She didn't feel like dancing anymore. She looked around the country club. Mostly they were a pretty nice bunch, but she knew there was an element, a tiny contingent, who got off on hurting people like Cal. Skip was one of them, and too late, she realized so was Sandy.

When Maureen got home she found there was a phone message on her family's house line. It was Lowe's. They'd be dropping off the lumber sometime in the morning the day after next. She knew she needed to be there to sign a receipt. 

Cal felt guilty about having taken Maureen to see the fireworks and then to the carnival. True he'd had a great time, and sure he and Sandy weren't officially boy and girlfriend yet, but they were pretty close. He stopped in at Waxman's Jeweler's and picked out a locket. It wasn't real expensive, but it was still pretty nice. He had them wrap it up and put a bow on the box. He'd give it to Sandy when he went to meet her at the tavern the next evening. He still didn't know why she kept insisting on being picked up at the tavern, but if that's what she wanted, that's what she'd get.



Part Five:



The next evening rolled around. Cal had worked at the office all day, and though tired, was still excited about his date with Sandy. He planned on giving her the locket right away, sort of show off, then they'd go to a movie, and perhaps later pitch a little woo. He dressed up for the occasion. He ironed a fresh button down shirt, and slipped into a pair of khaki trousers he hadn't worn in six months. There was a small horizontal crease across the tops of the legs, but he figured no one would notice. He shaved closely, and slapped on some Old Spice aftershave, hopped in the truck, and rolled off toward town.

Sandy got to the tavern early. She'd gotten a call from Skip who told her he had tickets to that night's college basketball game between their local heroes and the big crosstown rivals. Crosstown was nationally ranked so everyone expected it to be an exciting match. She was kind of sick of Cal's obsequious fawning and doting anyway. Let Maureen have him. If she was worried about him so much, let her hold his limp dishrag hands. She was off to the basketball game.

Maureen decided to wait till everyone was there before she went to the tavern. She'd bought a new dress. It was a dark blue mini with a plunging neckline that prominently displayed her well endowed chest. She didn't exactly know what she would do, but she had it in her mind to snatch Cal away from Sandy. Her woman's intuition told her Cal was cooling toward Sandy a little anyway. If she played her cards right she might get Cal out of Sandy's clutches before he realized what a fool they'd made of him. Maureen had figured it out. She wasn't doing this out of guilt or pity. She really wanted the guy. Maureen considered; if he was stupid, it was stupid in a good way, a way she liked.

Sandy was standing at the bar with her arms all over Skip when Cal walked in. His heart jumped in his throat, and his bowels turned to ice. He knew it had been too good to be true. No girl like Sandy would have anything to do with him for long. Why had he been such a fool? He should have remembered to have worn a hat, then no one would see the big sign on his forehead; the sign that read loser in big capital letters.

He walked over to the bar. His whole life was passing before him. He would have cried, but he was still holding out, hope against all hope, "Hi Sandy. You're here early."

Sandy still had her arm around Skip. She acted real innocent, like nothing was out of the ordinary, "Oh hi Cal. How're you doing?"

"We have a date, remember?"

"Oh that, well I'm going to have to cancel," she looked up at Skip, "Skip's got tickets to basketball, and I'm going with him, She smiled sympathetically, "Why don't you call me tomorrow?"

Cal heard the soft laughter, the chuckles, the giggling. He'd been right all along. He was a fool, an asshole, a sucker, "That's OK. I think I have something to do tomorrow." Though tricked, trapped, and humiliated, he was still too much of a fool to just walk off, "Anyway, I bought you this." He handed her the package.

Sandy took it, "Thanks, do you want me to open it now?"

Cal wasn't that big a fool, "No open it later," he paused just long enough to look at the smug expression on Skip's face, "Wait till after the game."

Sandy held the package in her hand, turning it this way and that.

Cal said, "I've got to go, catch you all later." He waved and left the bar. Laughter and giggling followed him all the way out the door.

Cal stepped on the lot outside the tavern just in time to see the two biker guys from earlier get off their cycles.

One looked at the other, "Isn't that the guy who?"

The other looked at his buddy, "Yeah."

They went straight for Cal.

Cal figured, oh hell why not. Let's get the shit kicked out of us tonight too. Nothing else could go wrong. 

The two guys closed in.

Cal stood stiffly. He hoped it was a sufficiently manly pose. It was about all he had.

One grabbed him by his just ironed shirt, and started pushing him against a dirty late model car.

It never happened. No one hit him. Cal was spared. From out of nowhere a swift karate chop descended on the guy who'd grabbed his shirt. Cal looked down ad saw him writhing in pain. His buddy was already in full retreat. It had been a one shot conflict, and it was over. 

Standing in front of him was Maureen. She looked like Chuck Norris, poised to rip somebody's head off, "You OK Cal?"

Oh Jesus H. Christ thought Cal. The girl he thought he was protecting several nights back was a karate expert. He hadn't, couldn't, didn't protect anybody. She was ten times the man he'd ever be. There he stood, wrinkled up shirt, grit and dirt all over his horizontally creased pants, having just been rescued by a girl. Not just any girl, the girl who wiped him up in pool.

He looked at her, "You know karate?"

Maureen answered, "Actually I'm a karate instructor. I teach it to the kids at my storefront, and offer additional instruction at some of the colleges."

Cal was absolutely, totally, irrevocably crushed. He'd never been so thoroughly and completely humiliated, "The other night. You didn't need me."

Maureen saw the confusion, then the humiliation on his face. This was the last thing she wanted, "Cal!"

He was down, but not inert, "You knew about Sandy too."

"Cal I'm sorry." She started toward him; if anybody ever needed someone, it was him. 

He held up his hands defensively, "No. Leave me alone." He turned. He didn't run, though he wanted to, but he strode as fast as he could to his truck, got in, slammed the door, and spun out. He drove off as fast as he could. He turned up the radio as loud as it would play. He smashed his fist into the dashboard. He found a side road, a road hardly anybody knew and turned off. He drove maybe a mile up the road, pulled over, and had one hell of a good long cry. 

He told himself over and over, 'You knew it would happen; it always happens. Girls don't like you. They never take you seriously. Why are you so stupid, and why does it always have to hurt?'

Maureen didn't bother going into the tavern. She knew what had happened. Sandy had told her over the phone she was ditching Cal for a basketball game. Maureen wanted to cry, but knew it wouldn't do any good. She was angry, but she was only angry at herself. She couldn't just blame Sandy; after all they'd been in it together, maybe not exactly, but Maureen had known what Sandy had been doing, and she'd done nothing about it. Now a nice guy, a really decent guy, maybe the only real man in the area had been made to look a fool. Sandy had done it, but she'd done it too.

Maureen drove home in a funk. She had to make this right. Hell she liked the guy. To be honest, she wanted him. By the time she'd gotten home she had it figured. He was building her gazebo. The wood was on its way. She help, she'd be 'Miss Helpful'. She'd fix lunch every day. They'd talk. Hell he was interesting. She'd make him fall for her. He'd be her boyfriend. She'd work it out.

When Maureen got home she saw her parent's home answering machine light was flickering. She clicked it on, "Hello, this is Cal. I'm sorry, but something's come up at work. I won't be available to do your gazebo, so if you would just cancel the wood order we'll call it even Steven." 

'Oh no,' thought Maureen. 'It's worse than I thought!'

The next morning, bright and early the Lowe's truck pulled in the driveway and dumped off the wood and supplies. Maureen looked it all over. What was she supposed to do? She hadn't bought it. Cal had insisted that he buy it. She was fully ready to pay him back once the damned thing was built, but now what should she do? She was stuck; a mountain of wood, a ton of nails, heaps of bags filled with concrete and sand, and box after box of metal kinds of things she'd never seen before.

Maureen checked her watch. It was early. She bet Cal, though also an early riser probably wasn't up yet. She bet he'd hang around in bed or around his house most of the day. She called him on his home phone. It rang the usual four times, and she quickly left a message, "Cal you have to get over here right away. I need you. Lowe's dropped all this stuff off, and I don't know what to do. I need you." She added for emphasis, "Please come over." She hung up right away. She didn't want to get into a phone conversation; that would be a discussion she'd be sure to lose. 

Cal heard the phone, and he heard the voice mail. It had been a long night. After his initial crying and reckless driving jag, he spent much of the rest of the night at home flicking through the television channels trying to find something appropriately violent to assuage his anger. By 4:00 a.m. he'd come to the conclusion most of what happened was his own fault, and even then the worst of it wasn't that big a deal. He knew from the start he'd end up the loser; so where was the big surprise?




A Fool Stumbles Into Love



One thing, actually the only thing, that really hurt was Maureen. Thinking back on Sandy, she hadn't really been serious, and if he'd been at all discerning he would have seen it. Shit, he'd never gotten any closer to her than the tavern.

Maureen was another story. Maureen had known what Sandy was doing, Maureen had made a fool of him at the pool table, and Maureen knew she was never in any danger from the bikers. He'd spent the better part of the morning being angry with her. 

Later, near sunrise he realized what really bothered him. Why was he so angry at Maureen and had already forgotten Sandy? That's when it finally hit him! He was angrier at Maureen because he expected more. He expected more because he wanted more. Sandy was cool. She was pretty, and she was incredibly popular. But there was one thing that Sandy wasn't. Sandy wasn't Maureen! 

All this time he'd diddling and fiddling around thinking abut the one girl, while he was seriously falling in love with the other one. He was in love. Old stupid Cal had fallen in love! He was in love with pool hustling, sharp tongued, karate chopping Maureen!

God was he glad he didn't get to the answering machine. He might have said something he'd regret. He got up off his ass, took a shower, slipped on an old faded gray T-shirt, a pair of old sweaty smelly jeans, and his work boots. He was a man with a mission!

Cal got to Maureen's parent's place a little after 10:00. Her car was still parked out front. He didn't bother to go to the door. He figured he better check what Lowe's had dropped off. 

Walking around the corner he saw her. She was sitting on a lawn chair. It looked like she'd been crying. He quietly walked up behind her, "Did you check the product list?"

Maureen turned around, "Cal, I'm so sorry."

He ignored the comment, "I said did you check to make sure everything's here?"

She answered, "No, I..."

He reached out his arms and helped her out of the chair, "If I tell you something, will you promise not to beat me up?" He was smiling.

Maureen was fumbling around trying to think of something to say, "Cal, I."

He wrapped his arms around the woman he loved, pulling her in as tight as he could, standing a cool eight inches taller, feeling very manly, He asked, "May I have a kiss," he hesitated, "please?"

Maureen reached up and clasped her hands around the back of his neck, big hazel eyes awash with as yet unshed tears of happiness, bright red rosy lips puckered up, she said, "I love you Caleb Burkheim."

Their bodies pressed together, eyes closed, their lips touched. It was to be the first of many, a very great many kisses.