13 comments/ 17337 views/ 3 favorites In the Wake of That Night By: A_Satori copyright ©2009 by A_Satori. All rights reserved. (Author's notes: This story is a sequel to A Prison Break. I suggest that three part story be read prior to reading In the Wake of That Night although I believe it can be a "stand alone" piece. This is a story about different kinds of love, loss, longing, guilt, and sadness. It's also about hope. There is erotic content, albeit a minor thematic element.) In the Wake of That Night She recalled his father's words at the wake. She overheard Anton saying, "If that kid would'a ever listened to me, he might'a made something outta himself. He never listened, and he always had that goddamn temper. He always knew better. The goddamn kid never listened to me, that was his goddamn problem all along." Lana surprised herself during the evening of the wake. She didn't get upset. She didn't take into account her anti-anxiety med which was working much better. She only had a few days of it left. She thought it might have been due to two things. None of it seemed real to her, like she was walking in a terrible dream. The other reason, maybe the more important one, was that many of her friends and vague acquaintances from high school showed up. She knew they weren't there because of him, or her, or his parents, and it made her angry which seemed to put a shell over her grief and guilt. Except for Cindy and a couple other friends, she wished none of them had come. Only two guys he had worked with attended and they stayed ten minutes but had been nice enough. His mother, Celia, had been stoic, almost cold towards her the two days making the preparations, then through the evening of the wake, the funeral Mass his mother insisted on having even though his father was against it, and the time in between, until the cemetery. Lana had felt so full of guilt, so responsible for all of it, so full of grief and love and sadness and shame that she had broken down again, even falling to her knees as they walked away from the grave site, sobbing inconsolably. His mother had knelt down and hugged her, then had finally started crying herself. His parents stayed that night too at the motel. The next morning they met at the house again. Lana wasn't sure what to do with any of his stuff. She asked his parents if they wanted to go through his things for a memento or something they might want, that there were a lot of tools in the garage. They said no, but then his father looked through the garage and almost took a few tools then decided against it at the last minute. Celia sat with her at the kitchen table, helping her get organized about all the things she'd have to do, making a list for her regarding moving out of the house and renting some smaller place, calling the utilities to cancel service, calling the landlord, and mentioning she'd probably lose the security deposit on the rental house but couldn't be held responsible for any additional charges although her mother, Barbara, might be. She talked to her about having a garage sale and selling most of everything. Celia tried to get her husband involved in that, asking him how much to price all the tools, but he just shrugged and said he didn't know, then said he was going out for a while. When he left, his mother had said, "He and Anton never got along very well." When his father returned, Lana could smell whiskey on his breath. He began saying he wanted to get on the road, kept asking Celia when she would have it all wrapped up. Celia's face expressed anger when she had finally responded, "We can't just leave her with all this." Anton's face and voice also showed anger. "Why the hell not? What the hell did he ever do for us? Huh? He never goddamn listened to me! He never goddamn showed me any respect!" Celia gritted her teeth for a moment, then nearly spit out her words, "Anton... go... go and watch TV." "Well... just goddamn hurry up." Anton went into the living room. Ten minutes later, Lana heard him snoring on the couch. Two hours later, after Celia had helped her not only with her list of things needed to be done, but telling some stories about her son, both she and Lana getting teary during them, did Celia wake up Anton. He went to the bathroom then when he came out he overheard Celia telling her that maybe she and Anton would come and help with the garage sale. "The hell we are! We're not coming again to help with his shit. It's not our problem." Celia ignored him. "I'll call you soon, you should see about an ad in the local paper tomorrow, have the sale as soon as possible, the weather will be getting cold soon." "Call her all you want, but you're not goddamn coming here again to help with his shit!" Celia called a few days later and said she'd not be able to help. Luckily Cindy, Cindy's mom, and even Cindy's dad for a little while, helped with the sale. She didn't make much money, not many people stopped because it had been a cold and drizzly weekend. She virtually gave away his tools, then literally did at the end of the sale to Cindy's father. They must have been worth a lot because before she went to bed that night, he gave her a hundred dollars, saying it should be more, especially for the power tools. The next day Amvets picked up the remaining furniture, and she loaded the pickup with the remaining smaller items and donated it to the Salvation Army Store. She also went to his bank to get forms for her mother to sign to close his accounts. She was surprised to learn he had added her name on both his checking and savings accounts. She didn't need her mother's signature. It wasn't a lot of money, it amounted to $973 dollars and some change. She remembered the night when it all started and recalled him in the master bedroom closet. She discovered the slot in the casing and found another $400. When she did, she cried for a half hour without letup. As Celia predicted, she didn't get any of the security deposit after she fully moved out of the house and into the guest bedroom at Cindy's. Her parents said she could stay until the spring but then should look for some small apartment. Lana wanted to pay them rent but Cindy's parents said they'd talk about some other time. The few bulky things she kept, including boxes of Barb's clothes, one of legal-like papers, and one piece of furniture, were stored in the basement. Cindy's dad let her park the pickup in the driveway. With the horror of that night, the police questioning, the inquest and coroner's jury, the funeral had been delayed, then getting organized for the garage sale, plus all the other things she had to do; she had missed nearly three weeks of community college classes. She was incredibly behind in all her courses and getting F's in them, due to missing all her mid-term exams. She tried to catch up but a week later she got a part-time job in one of the apparel shops where she had applied during the summer. She dropped out of school, all her teachers were decent about it, they knew what had happened. They all gave her WP's, withdrawal-passing. She still hadn't seen Barb. From what the prison officials had told her, her mother was under suicide watch and it was thought best not to allow visitors, she was however getting visits from the prison therapist and chaplain. Lana wanted to see her for more than one reason. She also was scared to her marrow to see her, also for more than one reason. She had tried writing her mother a number of times but she had never finished a letter, not sure how to not lie to her, yet not really tell her the full truth either. She finally mailed her a note: Dear Mom, I've been calling the admin people every week trying to find out when I can visit you. The police told me that someone at the prison told you what happened. So you probably know I was with him when he died. He told me to tell you that you are so very beautiful and that he loves you very much. He told me to tell you other things that I didn't really understand or maybe didn't hear right, and told me to ask you some things, but I'll tell you those when I visit. I hope I can see you soon. Mom, I love you. I really do. I'm so sorry, so very, very sorry. Lana Lana had cried writing it and had thought about not sending it for a day before she finally decided to mail it. She was able to visit her mother the following weekend. The visit didn't quite go the way Lana anticipated. In the Wake of That Night "Are you all right, Mom?" Barb nodded. She cleared her throat then said, "Did he say anything more?" Lana nodded. She was almost as afraid of this part as what she had nearly admitted to earlier. "Mom... he... he said I should talk to you, ask you... he-he said I should find my grandparents... he said... 'find them' a-a couple times." Lana got more scared when she saw her mother's face go slack. "Mom... I... I want to do what he said. I-I at least want to meet them. Can... can you help me with it?" More tears ran down her face. Barb stared unseeingly at her daughter. She didn't know it was for over a minute. During that time she recalled what she had thought only a few minutes previously, how it might have been better to have let her parents raise Lana, at least for a time if she herself had gone into rehab and changed her own life. Maybe even after that. Since being incarcerated, she had spent a lot of time thinking about her parents, her growing up, how things seemed to change after she started high school. She had always blamed her parents for the lousy relationship they had during her teenage years. She had thought they were dictators, mean, too strict, too overbearing, but since entering prison, she had concluded that they had been worried sick about her, that they had tried to control her stupid and wild behavior, but just didn't know how to do it. She had been slow developing and petite like Lana and went out of her way to appear her age or even older, probably for her self-esteem. One way she had come up with was to attract the attention of the boys. She had started having sex when she was fourteen, a freshman in high school. At fourteen she also had her first drink, not beer or wine, but whiskey with a couple guys and another girl. A year later she was pregnant with Lana. She had insisted on keeping the baby, and her parents never once tried to convince her otherwise, but kept saying she'd have to grow up really fast. That made her angry too back then, she had told them she was grown up already, she was going to be a mom. She had been wild and crazy and arrogant. She had stopped drinking during the pregnancy though, she had all the attention she craved, not only from her friends, but her parents too. Those nine months were the longest dry period she had, that is, until she was incarcerated. Barb blinked. She saw fear on Lana's face. Barb took another slow breath. "What... what have I told you already? I... I-I can't remember." "You... you said you had a fight with them, that... that they said they were going to take me away from you, that they were going to call the cops and have child services take me away for adoption. That... that they didn't love you or me, and got so angry at you that... that they threw us out of their house. Is... is that the truth?" Barb suddenly felt as if the entire weight of the building had come down on her. She only vaguely remembered telling Lana those things. She had been drunk the two or three times Lana had asked about them. How could I have told her that?! Once again tears started running down her face. She wiped her eyes with the tissue. She squeaked out, "No." "No? No to what?" "All of it. M-most of it." Barb wiped her eyes again. "I'll tell you the tru... Lana... Lana they... th-they loved you so much... and... I'm sure... they... they still love you... ju-just as much now." Lana started crying too. "T-tell me about... about them." Barb did. One of the first things Lana learned was that her real surname wasn't Sullivan, it had once been Logan. In the Wake of That Night Maureen began rocking on the couch as she started crying and repeating in a squeaky voice, "Oh my god... oh my god..." Lana didn't know what to do. Tears also ran down her face. "I'm sorry... I-I didn't know how else to tell you." Pat felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. It took a few moments for him to gather his wits. He moved off the arm of the couch, then crouched at his wife's knees. He slid his arm around her waist. Maureen stopped repeating and rocking. He grabbed a couple tissues from the box on the coffee table and handed them to Maureen, then did the same for Lana. He waited until his granddaughter wiped her eyes. "How long has she been in prison?" "A... about a year and a half." "What was she convicted of and what was her sentence?" "Three to five years, for... for reckless um... depraved reckless... um..." Lana couldn't think straight, couldn't remember the word. "Depraved reckless endangerment?" "Yes... yes, that's it." Maureen wiped her nose. "Pat, what can you do for her?" "Now? Probably not much." He shook his head. "I can't believe she didn't call us. I... I could have at least found her a good attorney. I haven't done criminal in a while." He looked at Lana. "What prison?" Before Lana could answer, Maureen asked, "You... you said she was with her husband. Where... where is he? Do you... do you have any brothers and sisters?" Lana thought of her brief conversation with her grandmother just a few minutes ago, of the word Maureen used. Lana suddenly felt overwhelmed. "No... no brothers or s-sisters, and... and..." She started crying again. "It's... it's all... all so c-complicated." Over the next twenty minutes, sometimes with tears running down her own and Maureen's face, Lana related the general story of what had happened over the past few years, and answered questions her grandparents had. Lana didn't paint herself very well in any of it, saying she had been terrible to her mother for a long time. When she got to the killing, she of course didn't mention her secret relationship with him. She first told them how Rich wasn't charged with a crime, and then when she began to describe the night of the killing she started crying, barely able to get the words out. "I kept screaming at them to stop fighting, and... a-and at Richie to leave b-but th-then he attacked Rich again, and... a-a-and R-Rich... R-Rich grabbed a kitchen knife... a-and he s-s-stabbed him." Lana broke down. Maureen had moved closer and had her arm around her. Her grandmother held her tighter. She was crying too. Patrick was sitting on her other side, his arm on the back of the couch behind her. "I-I c-called 9-1-1, b-but... h-he d-died w-when I-I w-was holding h-his h-head." Lana bent forward and began sobbing nearly as badly as she had that night. She could barely breathe. Maureen stuttered through her own sobs, "P-Pat... p-pick her up. T-take her to the g-guest room." Pat moved quickly and scooped up his petite granddaughter as Maureen led the way. Lana loosely draped her arm over his shoulder, and started repeatedly mumbling, "I'm sor-ry... I'm s-sorry." She was overwhelmed again with guilt and grief, and now added to that the fear she had told them too many details or they would guess the ones she had left out. Pat told her to relax, not to worry about anything. There was nothing for her to be sorry about. "We love you, Lana, just remember that." He lay her on the bed. Maureen quickly walked to the bathroom and returned a few seconds later with a wet wash cloth. She sat on the bed next to Lana who had turned onto her side. "Lay on your back, Lana, let me wipe your face." She didn't look at her husband. "Pat, get that glass of ice water." "Yeah." He quickly left the room. Over the next five minutes, Maureen calmed Lana down, while Pat figured it was best he not say much, but he never left the room, standing back from the bed. Finally Lana stopped crying and switched to apologizing. Maureen spoke softly, "Lana, there's no need for that. I think... you should just rest for a while. It was a long drive, and-and things are probably... a little unnerving, just meeting us after so long. I think we should all just relax for a while. So, why don't you rest. Take a nap if you can. I'll come back in a while and check on you, then... then I think you should eat something. I've got chicken breasts ready for the oven. You eat chicken, don't you?" Lana wasn't hungry at all, but she nodded. "Yes. Do... do you want me to help?" "No, you just rest. I'll be back in a little while. All right?" Lana again nodded. Maureen smiled softly, then squeezed Lana's hand. She wanted to kiss her granddaughter's forehead but held back from doing so. She rose from sitting on the edge of the bed. Pat smiled. "Just rest, Lana." He put his arm around his wife and they left the room. Maureen closed the door about half way, just as she had done all the years Barbara was growing up and for Lana too. They returned to the sitting area. Maureen was already quietly crying. They sat on the couch. Pat kept his arm around Maureen's shoulders. "Oh my god, Pat, our baby's in prison. And... Lana... seeing Barb's husband killed like that... and-and Barb... how did she handle that in prison?" Her crying got louder for a few seconds, but she got it under control, she didn't want Lana to hear her. "W-what are we going to do?" He had already been thinking about it. "Barb will have to put us on her visitor's list. We'll see if she'll do that. I'll look into the case, but..." He took a slow breath. "Maureen, if she was intoxicated and committed a vehicular homicide, she... she got off easy with reckless endangerment and three to five. It... it could have been much worse." "She's in prison, so... so how could that Rich have not even gone to trial after he k-killed Barb's husband?" "What Lana said, self-defense... justifiable homicide. He was drunk and..." Pat closed his eyes and smeared his palm around his face. He and Maureen had been so excited about Lana's visit and about the possibility of reconnecting with their daughter too. He had never expected this. They should have anticipated something... something awful when Lana didn't want to talk much when she called. He and Maureen had been so elated, so damn happy that she had called and would be visiting within days that they hadn't given any thought about the negative things that might have happened to Lana or Barb. They had done that for years and then her call came and they no longer had room in their minds or hearts for negative possibilities. My god... he was killed right in front of her. He dropped his hand. His eyes settled on the photo albums of Lana's baby pictures, many photos of her with Barbara, the times that he and Maureen had hoped their daughter was going to straighten out, going to get her alcohol and then also her drug abuse under control. He blamed himself and knew Maureen blamed herself too for their daughter's failings. They had been over everything a thousand times, about how they raised Barbara, how they handled things when she got pregnant and after she had Lana. The only thing they had done wrong in his opinion was that they told her they'd legally take Lana away from her if she didn't go into rehab and then stay clean. After she ran away with Lana, he knew they should have just done it, committed her to rehab without warning her, without giving her another chance. Now sixteen years later, his daughter had taken the life of some boy because she was intoxicated, and his granddaughter had seen a man, Barb's husband, killed in front of her eyes. He had tried his best to raise his daughter, and he had failed. Even though he knew he and Maureen had done their best, had not really done anything wrong, he felt guilty, he felt responsible for it all. His eyes welled up. Maybe his best hadn't been good enough. I should have been a better goddamn father! He held Maureen closer as his free hand quickly wiped his eyes. He had to get it together, start thinking about what to do and not wallowing in past mistakes. He turned his head and kissed Maureen's temple. "Try to settle down, sweetheart. We... we have to keep calm for Lana." Maureen leaned forward and grabbed a few tissues from the box. She was still trying to accept that she had given birth to a child who killed another human being. She felt herself to be the worst mother in the world. Without knowing it, she went through the same thoughts as her husband just had, then as she wiped her eyes, she realized it. "It's... it's not your fault, Pat. We... we did our best... tried our best." Pat's voice was soft and sounded tired, "I know, sweetheart." Lana was still on the verge of an anxiety attack. She realized she should have told them everything on the phone. She had just shocked them, and made their heartache about Barb running away from them even worse. She had just told them their daughter killed a sixteen year old boy, and that she herself had... had seen... a killing. They had expected a reunion with their granddaughter, hopefully a happy time, not... not a list of killings and finding out their daughter was in prison. What had she been thinking?! They weren't prepared for this! She had been afraid to tell them on the phone. She knew that if he hadn't told her to find her grandparents, she might not even be here, might not have made their lives even worse. Yet, she had wanted to see them, meet them all her life and they had just told her they had searched for her and Barb. She could already see even though they didn't know her, they loved her, at least loved their granddaughter, maybe not 'Lana,' but did love their granddaughter. She had considered writing them a letter to them first, telling them everything, but she hadn't even been able to figure out how to say what she knew she'd have to tell them today. She had tried to write it down and failed, a letter would have been just as big a shock, but at least she herself wouldn't have broken down which probably made it worse for them, and they would have been more prepared for meeting her too. Lana closed her eyes and once again did her relaxing routine. She had to stop crying so much, she had to stop losing control. That itself was upsetting them. How could she have possibly thought she'd be able to tell them everything and do it without them or herself getting terribly upset? She took a few more slow, deep breaths, then made a decision. She slid off the bed and went into the bathroom. She washed her face not worrying about her makeup. She then headed to the sitting area. She saw them on the couch, Pat's arm around Maureen. They both looked sad and deep in thought. Maureen was twisting a tissue in her hands. Her grandmother noticed her approaching first. "Lana? Do you need something?" Maureen started to stand. Lana spoke quickly, "No, please... keep sitting." She walked up to them. "I-I know what I told you shocked you, probably... probably made you very sad. I... I'm sorry." She felt tears rising. She cleared her throat. "I... I'm thinking that... th-that maybe I should just leave. I think..." "No!" Maureen jumped up from the couch. She told herself not to overreact. She stepped to Lana and held her granddaughter's shoulders and looked into the pretty girl's teary eyes. "Lana... yes, we... we are sad about... about Barbara, and... and what you've gone through, and, yes, the deaths of others, but... w-we are so..." Her eyes welled yet again. "... so happy... so elated to have you here with us. Oh, honey, please... please don't leave. I know this is all very upsetting for you too, to... t-to have to tell us all this. But please... sit with us, don't leave. I'll make dinner soon, you need to eat, we... we all do. And... you are staying overnight, if... if not here, then at a motel like I said. You can't be driving back tonight. It's too far of a drive. Now... please, sit down, please." Pat had also gotten up. "Lana, please stay, don't leave. I'll... would you like something to drink? Juice, a soda?" Maureen took Lana's hand. "Please sit, sweetheart." Lana looked at Patrick. She couldn't leave. It would hurt them even more. "I'd like a... a cranberry juice, please." Pat smiled. "I'll get it." He turned and headed to the open kitchen, his smile vanishing. Maureen sat and patted the center of the couch. Lana sat down. Her grandfather came back a moment later with a glass of juice. "Thank you." She took a sip. Patrick sat on the other side of her, leaving more than enough space between them. There was over a minute of silence. Pat broke it. "Maybe we could... take a break from... from worrying so much about everything, and try to relax a little, maybe do something that might be a little fun. Have you seen many pictures of yourself as a baby and toddler, Lana?" "No, not... not any really." "Would you like to see some?" "I... um... yes." He reached towards the pile of albums. "Which one do you think, Maureen?" Maureen smiled softly. "Lana, we went nuts taking snaps of you... you and Barb. We don't have to look at all of these right now. Let's... start at the beginning, Pat." "Ahhh... I like the toddler ones better. I mean... Lana was a beautiful baby, but... there's not much action in those." Maureen made a sucking sound with her tongue, then said, "Patrick, start at the beginning." "Oh... all right." He smiled and picked up the top album. His mind was on Barbara in prison though. Lana relaxed a tiny fraction. With their last verbal exchange, her grandparents suddenly somehow seem more real to her. "Here, Lana, let's put it on your lap so everyone can see." Pat shifted closer to her. "Okay." She set her glass on the coffee table, then took the album and opened it. She saw Barb in a hospital bed, smiling and holding a baby. Lana was surprised her mother looked so young, a girl really, and a tiny bit like her although Barb's hair was a much lighter brown, almost dishwater blond. Lana stared at the baby. "That's... that's me?" Maureen moved closer, her arm went around Lana's shoulders. Maureen was genuinely smiling. "Yes, all seven pounds four ounces of you. You were so... cute." Pat grinned. "She was beautiful, Maureen, still is beautiful." He moved closer too, placing his arm along the back of the couch. "Barbara was too." His smile faded a notch. Lana turned the page. She blinked. "She... Barb... Mom breast fed me?" Maureen answered, "Mmm... yes, and no. She didn't have enough milk so we used formula too." Pat said, "You know, these are only the ones we put in albums, we have a big box full of all the other photos." Maureen added, "We always had the camera around." Pat smiled. "Two cameras." He recalled how devastated they were when they found out Maureen couldn't have more children. They had hoped for three kids. It was probably one reason they had loved Lana so much from the very start. They always understood they weren't Lana's parents though. Barb was her mother and they were the grandparents. Lana stared at a photo with Patrick in it. He looked much younger. He was sitting cradling her in one arm, both her tiny hands holding his index finger, she looked like she was smiling and her grandfather was grinning like she had just made his day. Lana smiled but her hand rose to wipe her eyes. "I've... never seen any pictures of me as a tiny baby. I... I guess I said that already, didn't I?" Pat spoke softly, "You can have any you want, we have duplicates on nearly all of them." Maureen added, "We'll put together some albums for you." They looked at photos for nearly an hour, mostly Maureen telling little stories, but Patrick told some too. After that Maureen started dinner. Back in the sitting area, Maureen and Pat asked Lana more questions about her life. She didn't go into too many details. Pat asked if she was attending college. Lana said she had dropped out of community college, but hoped to return after she got a full time job and an apartment. She said she knew it would take a while to earn a year's worth of credits, then hopefully she'd have some money saved and was hoping to start at a university, maybe at DeKalb or Champagne. Pat asked, "What about the university here?" "I... I didn't apply here." "We have a bit of a rep as a party school, but this is a good university. We offer as many majors as DeKalb, plus a med school. Champagne is the best state university, but this is a good school, Lana." "Maybe... maybe I'll apply here, but that's in the future anyway." Maureen looked at her husband. "Pat?" He smiled at his wife, then looked at Lana. "I think you should apply here as soon as you can, and... and not worry about tuition or where you might live, but... we can talk about that later." Lana blinked, then her stomach knotted. "I-I didn't call you or come here because..." Maureen cut her off. "We know that, honey. We'll talk later about it, like Pat said." During dinner, Maureen and Pat asked more questions about Lana's life. Nothing too deep or probing, keeping things light. Pat asked if she had played sports in middle or high school. Maureen asked her what she liked to do to have fun. Lana asked questions about them, where they had grown up, where and when they met, when they were married. She even smiled at what Maureen said after she asked Patrick if he had been in sports in high school or college. Maureen rolled her eyes, "Oh god... don't get him started!" After dinner they watched some home movies and some home videos. The home movies were transfers onto video tape, of Barbara as a baby and a little girl, then some movies to video tape of Lana as a baby, then straight video of Lana as a toddler. The conversation got serious again for a half hour or so. Pat had a legal pad and he quizzed Lana more about Barbara's conviction, the name of the lawyer she had and where his office was located, which women's correctional facility she was in. He asked Lana if she knew if Barbara had been serving "good" time, not getting into trouble. That sort of thing. Pat kept an eye on his granddaughter to make sure he wasn't upsetting her. He noticed Maureen doing the same thing. During that, Lana glanced around the living room looking for the dark blue, velvet upholstered armchair even though she doubted it would be there. No chair lasts nearly twenty years. She asked Patrick if he thought there was anything legal he could do for her mother. He said he'd look into it, talk to her lawyer, look at the trial transcripts, but that Lana shouldn't get her hopes up. He glanced at Maureen and told her not to get her hopes up either. Maureen was sad and saw Lana was too. She stood up. "It's time for dessert. Lana? Would you mind helping me? You like ice cream, don't you?" Lana forced a smile as she stood up. "Yes, I like ice cream." Maureen put her arm around Lana's shoulders as they started towards the kitchen area. "With whipped cream, nuts, and topping?" Pat was perusing his notes. "That's how I want mine, the works." Maureen rolled her eyes, then whispered to Lana, "I think he could stand to skip the whip cream, but not you and me." Pat turned his head. "Hey... I heard that, Maureen." Lana genuinely smiled, "I want the works too." In the Wake of That Night She closed her eyes and tried to relax her entire body, toes on upward. When she reached her shoulders she just couldn't get him out of her mind. She recalled a night they sat in the single redwood chaise he bought, not the night she told him that awful story, another night, a night he had said was the perfect temperature, not too warm and not cool. There had been a soft breeze. She was sitting between his thighs, her back against his chest, his muscular arms around her, holding her, her head resting on his shoulder. They hadn't talked much, just looked at the stars in the dark sky above. Sometimes he'd kiss her temple or stroke his face through her hair. She had never wanted that night to end. It had been so loving, so intimate, so... so... ... Lana held onto the pole near the doors of the crowded el car. It was rush hour, all the seats taken, people were standing in the aisle. She was nervous. She was hoping this evening would be one of the good ones. She gazed out the window and thought her stop might be next. A distorted, scratchy voice came over the PA, "Western... Western Avenue." It was her stop coming up. The car jostled side to side for a few seconds, making her stance unsteady for a moment, then the train started slowing down. The platform came into view at the side of the train, the brakes squealed harshly like steel fingernails on a steel blackboard, finally the train slowed to a full stop. Whoosh! The doors opened. She quickly stepped onto the platform, glad to be the first one out of the car and almost the first one headed down the stairs to the street. She was only a minute's walk from the apartment. She was sitting on the edge of the bed in the dark, the only light entering the room was the soft, sulfur yellow light from the street lamp squeezing inside around the closed blinds. All she had on was the mens white tank shirt he liked so much. Although everything in the room felt very familiar because it was their bedroom, she also had a sensation she had never seen it before too. Was that why she was so nervous? She remembered he had come home and showered while she set out a big dinner to surprise him, and that he had really enjoyed it, but then right afterwards he said he had to go out and pick something up for the next job. That was an hour and a half ago. Ninety minutes. Was that why she was nervous? Yes, that was it. She had thought it was going to be one of the good nights, but now he was out and she was afraid it was all going to change into one of the awful episodes, one of the horrible nights. She was so afraid he was going to say he failed to keep his promise again. He had been doing so well. She had started to believe this really was the time. She felt another el train approaching, the entire three flat building began to tremble, then shake as the deafening, scraping, rumbling noise raced passed the rear of their apartment. A minute later she thought she heard footsteps coming up the alley stairs, then definitely the sound of a key sliding into the back door lock. Her stomach knotted and she held her breath. She heard him step into the kitchen and then there was a clunk on the floor before the door closed and the dead bolt lock was engaged again. She listened to the rustle of his jacket coming off as he stepped into the small storeroom to hang it up. "Lana? Where are you? Why is the place all dark? Lana?" She could hear her heart beating in her ears. She exhaled and sucked a few quick breaths. He didn't sound drunk. Sometimes he could do that though, sound sober when he wasn't. She saw his darkened figure appear at the bedroom doorway. "Are you all right? Is something wrong? Why are sitting in the dark?" She hurriedly turned on the bedside lamp, the bulb though was suprisingly dim, not even as bright as a night light. She looked at him, barely able to see the details of his face in the dim illumination. "Is... is this going to be one of the good nights?" Her stomach tensed more. He frowned for a moment, then his face became warm with understanding as it did sometimes. He walked up slowly, then knelt, pushing her knees apart so he could move closer to her. He put his arms loosely around her waist and kissed her cheek, then her temple. His voice was low and soft right at her ear, "Sweetheart, it's been five weeks. I've never made it to five weeks. I promised you, remember? But... I know I've broken promises before, so... so keep asking me if you have to." Tears welled up and her throat constricted, her voice was squeaky, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry." She felt sorrow burgeon within her, yet didn't understand the reason for it. He whispered softly, "Hey, none of that." He pulled his head back and gave her lips a soft kiss then kissed away the tears from her cheeks. He leaned back and smiled as he gazed into her tear welled eyes. "You know why I'm going to make it this time?" She sniffled, then shook her head slightly, "Why?" "Because I love you, Lana. I love you more than words can describe." More tears ran down her face. "I know you do. You... You finally told me." Her face scrinched and she started crying softly. He smiled. "Is that what's making you so sad you're crying?" "I-I'm happy... just so happy you love me. I love you... so... so much." Her stomach was still knotted with fear and sadness and she didn't know why. His smile remained on his face. "Well, then do you want to make love with me?" "Yes. Do... Do you want to make love with me?" "All the time, sweetheart, but... could you do something for me first?" She sniffled again. "What? I'm not wearing my piercing." He reached to the bedside table and then held a box of tissues in front of her. "Could you wipe your eyes and blow your nose first." He grinned again and then chuckled. She began to relax. She release a quick giggle. "Okay, I'll do that... if you insist." They both laughed softly through three nose blowings. He kissed her lips softly. "Feel better now?" She nodded. "Uh-huh. I want you in my mouth first." He stood up and started taking his shirt off. "No. I need to lick you first." "Nuh-uh. I get you in my mouth first." She smiled. "I insist. Hurry up. Get undressed." "Jeezuz... you're such pushy broad." "Don't call me a broad, you ass. And hurry up, get those jeans down. I've been waiting a long time." She watched him undress, when he stepped closer she wrapped her hand around the root of his cock. "God... you're so big." He exhaled sharply. "Lana, I've told you..." She interrupted with a giggle. "I know, shut up." She pulled him closer and her mouth formed a large "O" as she engulfed the top third of his thick manhood. Her tongue swirled around the glans, then her cheeks went hollow with her first intense suck. "Arrrhh... jeezuz... Lana." His splayed fingers combed her dark hair away from her face and held it back, his palms resting on her head. He didn't push or pull at all. She let some saliva drool down from her mouth, using it as a lubricant for her hand as it started stroking up and down, twisting along the way, its upward journey meeting her descending tight lips. "Urrrh... god... Lana." He shut his eyes as his hips moved forward slightly. Without looking up she knew his eyes were closed, knew he was enjoying the beejay. She remembered her lie to him, implying she had done this a lot before him when she really hadn't. He now said she did it too well. She wondered for a moment as she always did, whether she was as good as Barb at it. She kept her hand moving as her mouth stopped on the head, her tongue swirling repeatedly about the bulbous form. "Just... just give it a hard suck, baby." His eyes shut tighter. "Yeah... yeah... like that." His breathing had grown ragged. He looked down at her. His hands held her head and started pushing her back as his hips began pulling away. "That's enough... I don't want to cum.... Lana... Lana?" Her hand stroked and twisted faster. She wanted to make him feel good. She wanted to make him cum. Her head started bobbing quickly in short strokes, up and down an inch or so down from the helmet ridge then up over that same ridge, her tongue fluttering and circling around the smooth glans. She felt his hands hold her head more firmly pushing her away. She protested, "Mmmmhhh!" "Stop... jeezuz... c'mon.... I... I need to lick you, baby." "Mmmmhh!" She felt him pushing her away harder and pulling his cock away. "Mmmh!" He jerked his hips back. POP! She whined, "Don't... c'mon. I want to." She swallowed saliva a couple times. He was already going down to his knees. "I need to kiss your sweet, little pussy." On his knees his hands started pushing legs apart. "Lay back." She blinked then almost started laughing as she remembered the surprise for him while simultaneously wondering how she could have forgotten about it. "Are you sure you want to kiss me there? Don't you just want to make love now?" "Kissing your sweet, little flower is us making love. How many times do I have to tell you that." She smiled. "Oh, uh-huh... I remember." She let him open her legs. Her pussy was already clenching in anticipation. She lay back but propped herself up with her elbows. The light was so dim in the room she wondered if he'd notice. She also briefly wondered how and when he had taken her shirt off. "Lana... you... you shaved your muff." She grinned. "Uh-huh. Do you li..." His hands gripped the cheeks of her bottom pulling her upwards as his face dropped to her pussy. She felt his warm wet tongue bathing her slit, clit and the smoothly shaven surrounding area. Her shoulders and head dropped to the sheet as intense, shivering waves of delight radiated from between her legs. She moaned, "Oh... oh gahhd." Her breathing increased tempo. She felt his tongue concentrate on her clit. It made her body shudder in pleasure for a few moments. "Oh... mmmh." He raised his face a little, gazing at her naked slit, kissing her labs a few times, then said, "Fold your legs up and back." His head dipped once more, his tongue pushing and diddling her pink pearl. She did as he said, her knees rose, then her legs folded back. Her slender forearms moved behind her calves, her hands cupped behind her ankles. When he had her do this the first few times she thought it was kind of slutty. She didn't feel that way anymore. She felt his tongue plunge into her pussy then twist and swirl. Her neck arched pushing the back of her head into the mattress. She murmured, "Oh god." Abruptly his tongue moved to her squinting anus. "Oooh!" Her body tensed with the new sensual, erotic delight, then his tongue moved to her clit again, wildly rubbing, diddling, pushing her pearl around and around, flickering on it, then covering it, undulating and stroking again. She was suddenly near peaking, so close to orgasm it almost made her scream. His tongue moved quickly again, she felt it swirl around her hot anus once again, making her tense up, then it plunged into her drooling channel again and that was it. Her orgasm took possession of her body, she twitched and shuddered, moaned and yelped. She felt his tongue cover her clit, undulating against it, then slow broad licks. Her arms released her calves, she reached outward from her body, her hands clutched the sheet as her shaking legs unfolded, her feet lowered onto his back, her thighs clamped his head. His tongue slowed but kept in motion. Each little movement made her body twitch or jerk with another intense, tingling wave of delight. It was almost too much pleasure. Her thighs closed tighter against his head in response. She gulped breaths. His tired tongue finally retracted into his mouth. His head twisted against her hugging thighs as his hands lowered her firm, fleshy buns to the sheet. He pulled his head up higher. His palms slid up the backs of her thighs, then cupped behind her knees. She looked at his face. Even in the dim light she could see the area about his mouth was glistening with her dew. She was still panting her breaths as he opened her thighs and his lips caressed the inside of each of her knees. He smiled. "Did you like that?" She giggled breathlessly and nodded. "Yes... you know I did." "Do you want me inside you?" "Yes. It's... it's been so long." She felt a sudden stab of sadness and didn't know why, nor did she understand why she had said it had been a long time. He held her knees, half folding her legs as he stood and the sight of his hard, thick cock made her stop wondering. "Guide me in, Lana." She twisted her shoulders and reached for his beautiful cock. She felt what she had many times, the sensation of pleasure just knowing she could excite him, make him want her, make him hard. "Rub the tip against you, your lips and pearl first, okay?" She nodded. She loved it when he asked her to do that. Her eyes shut as the helmet touched her slippery slit. She twitched again when the tip stroked over her still tingling clit. His voice was low and growly, "Ahhh... yeah, right on your pearl, Lana... do that. I like that... a lot." She did too, even when she was hyper-sensitive as she was right now. It was odd though, almost... not painful, but made her tense up so much for moments, it was nearly like little electric shocks. "Ye-ahhh... now... stroke it up and down between your sweet lips." She did that. It also made her shudder. She was still orgasmic but felt herself start towards another orgasm. Sometimes it happened like that. "Ohhhhh.... ohgod," she murmured. "I want to be inside you... now... okay?" "Uh-huh... yeah." She moved the tip to the entrance of her still drooling channel. She shut her eyes when she felt him push the head in. She let go of his manhood. He pushed in another inch. He felt so big. She had forgotten how he could feel like that sometimes. Her eyes blinked open. A stab of fear and sadness seemed to hit her core as she once more wondered why she thought it had been so long since the last time. "Ah mannnn... Lana... you feel so perfect. We're a perfect fit." He pulled back then nudged in a little deeper. Her eyes closed again as her hips squirmed by themselves. She stopped trying to recall when the last time was. He worked his cock in and back, until he slowly drove his manhood all the way inside her. She again thought he was big, and that he was right. It felt perfect. She grit her teeth as she clenched her channel around him. She never wanted to let him go. Her hips swayed. "Jeezuz... I love it when you hug me like that." They both pushed towards the other and grinded, then when she felt him pull back slightly, she loosened her grip around his cock. She wanted to feel him sliding in and back and knew he wanted the same. Her eyes opened, when she felt her legs fold back more. His arms moved, the crooks of his elbows settled behind her knees as his face descended and his lips met hers. Their tongues danced as his cock started a slow rhythm, deep then shallow, in then back, over and over again. Her hips kept swaying and she'd sometimes clench her channel around him when the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. She loved it when he made love like this, she loved it when they got crazy and intense too. She loved anything they did together when she was sure he was with her, when she felt connected to him, and she felt that to the depths of her soul right now. He broke the kiss, huffing breaths as he planted kisses on her shoulder. She arched her neck and knew he'd give her a necklace of kisses. When he started those her open mouth, gulping ragged breaths, formed a breathless smile. She felt the tempo of his movement increase. Her hips pushed in counterpoint towards his quicker inward strokes. Her hands gripped his shoulders. Their mutual rhythm sped up and grew more intense. She heard the sound she found so exciting. smat... smat... smat... smat... When it happened at times like tonight, she equated that sound with their care for each other, with their desire, with them doing an act that illustrated and underlined their connection. And now it was even more like that because she knew he loved her. She jutted her pubis towards him harder. He raised his torso and responded in kind. smat... smat... smat... smat... He spoke through his ragged breaths. "I... don't wanna... cum yet." "I want you to. Cum... cum in me." "Not yet." He slowed the rhythm, then plunged deep and grinded against Lana. She shut her eyes tightly as she pushed and squirmed against him, sometimes able to rub her clit against his pubic bone. "Oh... gahhhhd. Mmmmh." He moved his arms from behind her knees. "Put your legs around me. Let's... let's move to the chair." Her eyes opened. She really was close and didn't want to move. "What... what chair?" "Our chair." She turned her head slightly. She saw a recliner she hadn't noticed earlier. It was just like the chair in the living room in the house, but not the one she thought of as 'our chair.' She must have forgotten they brought it with when they moved. "Don't you want to just..." He interrupted, "I want us on the chair." "Oh... all right." He lowered his torso again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She tensed and giggled when he straightened up and his hands gripped the cheeks of her butt. Each step he took to the chair made his cock push to the end of her channel and she felt a quick thrill. When he sat down she knew he'd tell her to move her legs and then turn around on his lap. She also knew it would feel like she was twisting his cock when she did it and if she asked if she was hurting him, he'd just laugh. And it happened just like that. When she had turned around, she knew one of his hands would go to her small breasts, caressing, and teasing her nipples, as his other moved to her pussy, his fingertip diddling and playing with her clit. And all that happened too. His touches made her hips squirm as they always had, and then he did something else he always did, he growled and it sent a shiver through her. "Urrrrrhhh.... ye-ahhh.... jeezuz... Lana... you're so damn perfect around me." His face pushed and stroked into her long brunette hair. Her neck arched and he gave her breathy, moist kisses. She mumbled breathlessly, "You're... you're going to make me cum again." He smiled. "I want to make you cum." "I want to make you cum." She gripped the arms of the chair, folded her legs, sliding her feet closer to his hips and leaned forward. She pushed up then lowered, pushed up, lowered, again and again. His finger kept swirling around and over her clit. She was starting to twitch from it and felt herself getting very close to another orgasm. She wanted them to reach orgasm together. She loved when that happened. She was so close. She knew if he reached orgasm, she would too. She intensified her movements until she was virtually bouncing on his lap. "Urrh... Lana... slow down. I want this to... last a long time... Slow down." She breathlessly responded, "No... I want you to... cum in me." She rose even higher and shoved down. "OH NO!" His cock slipped out! She had risen too high! She heard him laugh. Her hips rose again as her hand desperately reached for his thick dick. "No. Let's go on the bed." She tried to get the head lined up with her entrance, but he was shifting on the chair. "No, let's stay here." "No, c'mon. I want to do this slower for a while. I want to face you. C'mon, Lana." She suddenly felt near tears and didn't know why. It was what she wanted too, to see his face, to look into his eyes when they both reach orgasm. "All right... okay." His hands cupped her breasts, then his face stroked through her hair.