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The First Moms Club (S&P)

By: Captain Midnight



Based on the series of stories by patricia51 and linda_s ©

To Linda and Patricia:

I can't thank you enough for letting me write for your series. And I also can't thank you enough for the encouragement you gave me. 

To the rest of the readers:

This is my first erotic story for publication in any medium. Feedback is greatly welcomed. But I'd like to recommend that you visit my homepage and see a list of my favorite authors and stories, and visit those sites as well. I'll update the list every so often, and I hope you like what I like.

Although this story is fiction, there ARE some autobiographical elements in it. Lori, as she appears here, is based on a real person I knew a few years ago. The sex scenes – well, I have learned a few things. And a Helen Palmer Geisel book about the goldfish, recently reprinted, now sits on my sister's bookshelf awaiting the time my niece is old enough to appreciate it.

Michael Gibson could hardly wait as his wife, Lori, "freshened up" in the bathroom. She had just spent an hour putting Carol, age four, and Stephanie, just shy of two, in bed. Carol could talk pretty well, Stephanie was just learning, and he had heard them both chatter that they weren't sleepy even though they were. Mike and Lori had wondered how the girls would do together. So far, so good. Carol seemed to love her little sister. Mike thought he was a pretty good father, but he thought his discipline was wretched. Fortunately, neither of the girls had done anything out of the ordinary. Besides, one look from Lori and the girls minded. 

A shadow went over Mike's face as he thought about Lori's miscarriage a few months earlier. She had been far enough along for them to know it would have been a boy. Mike thought he took it harder than Lori did. But Lori was so sweet and good-natured that she seemed to take it all in stride. Mike was very grateful that Lori's job with the city had given her enough insurance to carry her through the pregnancy, the rush to the hospital, and the recovery period. 

Mike was a police trainee, having dropped out of the Academy twice when each girl was born to be a house dad. Police trainees don't get paid much. Fortunately, Mike was ranked at the top of his class and he was sure to get a job with the county sheriff's office. He had been working extra hard, and he had been too tired at the end of each day to do much more than sleep. Tonight, with exams out of the way, he was hoping for more.

Lori was taking an unusually long time to freshen up, and Mike thought he knew why. They weren't going out tonight – couldn't afford to, unless Lori got gift coupons from her friends at work – but he had an idea about what she was wearing. Lori really liked to dress up nicely, and had since he had met her in Marine boot camp a decade ago. She still had her dress uniform carefully packed away in a special closet. Now, working in one of the top city offices, she wore nice dresses or suits with various feminine touches. At home, she usually changed to jeans and pullovers or T-shirts, but sometimes she wore short skirts or short dresses and lingerie to die for. 

He hoped she would wear a short skirt tonight. They were going to watch a movie on DVD – she had gotten a good deal on the player through friends at work – and he had a really good idea that they would pay more attention to each other than the movie. He wondered if they would make another baby tonight. The girls were the only people he and Lori loved as much as each other, but he had always wondered how Lori would do with a son. He also wondered if he could provide for a son, and how he would raise a little boy. 

And that's all he got to wonder, because Lori came out of the bathroom. She was wearing a short skirt all right, with bare legs and a sheer short-sleeved blouse. The blouse wasn't too tight, and Mike could tell Lori had on a camisole and her pink bra underneath. His eyebrows went up. The camisole and a bra? That meant she was wearing the full ensemble that her Marine basic-training bunkmate had given her, to show to him one steamy night. She had kept the ensemble as carefully as she kept her dress uniform. He could count on his fingers how many times she had worn that lingerie since.

"Are you ready, Sergeant Gibson?" asked the former legal secretary in the Judge Advocate General's office, with a twinkle in her eye. 

"Ready if you are, Corporal Gibson," replied the former tactical advisor to a country plagued by narco-terrorism. Mike had loved a lot of his assignment – especially meeting the common people who were trying to survive in a place where "turf war" was a literal term. He had put in for patrol duty so he could meet the people of his adopted hometown and help them out whenever possible. Lori's job with the County Attorney's office had helped him out a lot, because she got to meet a lot of regular citizens and had told him about their problems and hopes. 

And that was as far as Mike's practical mind got. Lori took his hand and led him to the family room, where a romantic comedy awaited.

*****************************

As romantic comedies go, Mike thought, this one wasn't bad. During the first hour, he had laughed out loud several times. Lori, he noticed, had that "oh, how sweet" look on her face quite often as she looked at the two romantic leads. "Oh, how sweet" wasn't what Mike thought when he looked at the woman on the screen, who though chastely dressed so far had a body most other women would die for. Mike suspected she kept making movies to pay for cosmetic enhancements.

Lori, on the other hand … she was all natural. Mike had long decided she was so pretty because of her nature, glowing through whatever imperfections she had picked up over the years. Take her hand, for instance, which is what Mike had done about a half hour into the picture. The back of it was kind of bony – Lori seemed a little underweight – but it was so warm and so soft. Mike had been caressing it for about twenty minutes now. He sneaked a look at Lori, let go of her hand with one of his and switched to his other hand, and put the freed arm around her shoulders. Lori liked it and snuggled closer to him, putting her head in the hollow of his neck. 

The maneuver was something Mike and Lori hadn't been taught in the Marines, literally. The first time they had made love, on the sly in a training area at the base, the passion had been much fiercer, two teenagers experiencing true lust for the first time. Not until after Mike's first leave from South America had they gone on a "first date." Mike had been unusually shy then, whispering to Lori his request that he hold her hand and, later, to put his arm around her shoulder. 

It had taken five more dates before they had again thrilled to the rhythm of intercourse, and then only the one time before he was shipped back. Each leave after that, until they both had honorable discharges, it had been the same ritual. Lori had gotten bolder each time, finding new ways to pleasure herself, and Mike had gone along as his excitement built. Even after five years of marriage, he thrilled to the thought that Lori might find out something else about her body that would let her enjoy lovemaking even more.

This time, the length of his arm allowed him to hold her shoulders in a firm grip while his fingers touched her cheek and curved up to stroke her earlobes. Mike knew from past experience that kissing Lori's neck and sucking on her earlobes sent her to a new level. But not yet, he reminded himself. Then the male comedian who was the romantic lead did a pratfall and Mike forgot his grip, bursting out in laughing. 

Lori shifted position. She curled her legs up and the couch and laid her upper torso in Mike's lap. She took the fingers of Mike's curving hand and caressed them. Mike's other hand caressed her forehead. At one point, when a steamy love scene began, he pulled down his fingers and mock-covered her eyes. She giggled, let go of his hand and gently shooed his other hand away. It left, but returned on the back of her neck, gently massaging it. The hand curled around her settled on the top of her chest, just below the collarbone.

Mike sneaked a peek at Lori's lower half. Her long legs were exposed all the way up; he could even see her panties peeking out from underneath her skirt. They were the panties from the lingerie ensemble she had worn that first night. She had worn them again on the night they made Carol, and on the Saturday morning they had awakened early, decided to have breakfast in bed, and wound up making Stephanie. He couldn't remember a half-dozen other occasions where she had worn them. It didn't really matter to him – she seemed to love his caresses no matter what she was wearing, if anything – but sometimes she felt sexier than usual and brought them out for his benefit.

Lori let out a deep sigh as Mike worked the muscles in her neck. It wasn't easy with his hand crowded in between his chest and her back, but he really liked working the kinks out. His other hand was caressing the very top of her chest, feeling the pectoral muscles, straying to the shoulders to see about the arm muscles. Lori did a tremendous amount of data entry and her back, neck, arms and fingers got a lot of work. Even when Mike was too tired for sex, he would try to make the stiff and sore muscles revive so Lori could sleep better. She had had a lot of trouble sleeping lately.

Mike brought his hand back to Lori's chest. He let his fingers slowly slide down her breastbone, feeling the camisole and the bra beneath it. His palm stayed on her sternum; his fingers splayed out. He could feel the breasts, delicately covered up, the material above them somewhat silky, the rest smooth. He let his fingers massage the breasts, well away from the nipples, for a while. Then he moved that hand away and placed it on her hip. He took the other hand away from her neck and put it on her chest. Lori felt like she was being cradled. She was paying less and less attention to the movie.

Mike let his fingers run down the side of Lori's leg until they reached her knee. Then he touched her leg behind the kneecap. The flesh is softest at the point, and very sensitive. Lori could feel her nipples hardening. 

Mike stroked up and down Lori's leg for a while. Lori turned her head to Mike's chest and kissed it through his shirt, then kissed him on the mouth. Mike enfolded her and rubbed her back, from neck to bottom, caressing the buttocks through the material of her skirt. He let his hand wander up the hem of the skirt and touched her bottom through her panties. Then he ran his fingers down her legs again, this time on this inside.

Lori lay down on Mike's lap, face down, as if she was expecting a spanking. Mike had given Lori a spanking once, but he was definitely not into that sort of thing. He was, however, very interested in her back. Returning his hand up her legs, touching her bottom again, he went to her blouse and pulled it out of the waistband of her skirt. He felt the camisole underneath, so soft, and higher up to where the bra closed in the back. 

Lori rose up, kissed Mike again, unbuttoned the blouse and shrugged it off. She lay back down again, on his other hand, so it could caress her front while he caressed her back. Mike found the clasp of the bra and managed to undo it with one hand. Meanwhile, Lori had reached around and was touching Mike's inner leg with one hand and his chest with the other. 

With Lori's entire back now exposed, Mike saw his chance to caress it. His eyebrows went up a bit as he saw a dark mole in the lower center of the back. Lori normally didn't lie out in the sun except for rare trips to the beach, and she hadn't sunburned in a long time. He shrugged, then used his other hand to push Lori's bra aside and massage her breasts through the camisole. 

This time he pulled no punches. He covered the entire breast in his palm – not easy, but he had the hands to do it – and trapped the nipple between two fingers, sliding them up and down. The nipple hardened rapidly under his touch. He did the same thing with the other breast. Lori moaned. So Mike, after trailing his fingers gently down the length of Lori's back, touched her bottom through her skirt and inched it upwards. Her hands, he could tell, were getting very close to their intended target. He was getting mighty aroused. 

Lori shifted around so she was on her side facing Mike. She gave him a huge kiss, then presented her neck for him to kiss back. He obliged, licking the side of the neck about halfway up and then switching to the earlobe, sucking on it and nibbling it. Lori closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and breathed heavily.

It was just about the right time. Mike slid his hand down the waistband of Lori's panties, caressing her cheeks. He didn't go for the area between them yet – they had tried anal sex during her pregnancies, and he had liked it but she didn't – but he gave the skin there the tenderest touch he could manage. Then he slid his hand out of her panties and moved it around to her tummy.

Lori scooted back until she was resting his whole weight on his knee. With an arm supporting her, she stroked his cock – it felt like a log – through his pants. She put a finger at the top and traced it down from tip to balls. At the same time, Mike began to run his hand down Lori's groin, staying outside the panties. He took his time, and he splayed out his fingers so he could touch the insides of her thighs. His thumb was hooked in the waistband of her panties, pulling them out. The two outer fingers were on her thighs, ready to curl inside the leg holes. The two middle fingers slowly but surely slid down until they covered her crotch.

Mike knew well that women's bodies show a lot of signs other than the obvious ones. He could feel through the panties that Lori's pussy lips were still closed. She was probably wet on the inside, but it would take some doing to bring the wetness to the surface. So he slid the two middle fingers up and down, up and down, occasionally feeling for her clit through the material and gently touching it. Slowly, the panties became embedded in Lori's crotch as the lips began to open. 

Mike knew that the source of Lori's wetness was some sort of gland – he didn't know its name, and Lori didn't either – located at the base of the pussy, secreting fluids into the vagina to allow for easier passage. But some of the fluids escaped, coating the rest of her womanhood and making the clit and lips glisten. After a while, he used the middle and index fingers to probe inside her leg hole. There it was, the reservoir of woman juices. He dipped his middle finger in it and began spreading the juices up and down. When he got to the clit, he used his wet fingers to massage it and the area around it.

Lori hadn't been idle through all this. She found Mike's zipper and pulled it down, tugged his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned it, and began kissing every part of his exposed flash. When his proud male organ emerged, she licked up its entire length, took the head in her mouth for a moment, retreated, touched her tongue to the little opening and licked up and down the slit. This maneuver did not go casually rewarded. Mike used his fingers to caress Lori's breasts and to delve deeply between her labial lips. He slipped a finger into her vagina to probe for the G-spot. He seldom found it, but he had a lot of fun trying, especially when his other fingers stimulated her clit at the same time.

"I've got to take you!" Lori uttered in a tone that Mike momentarily thought would wake up the girls. "Raise your hips up and let me pull your pants out of the way! I've got to ride you like a stallion!"

Mike was as startled as he could be, but this wasn't something he was unused to. He quickly shed his pants and underwear, leaving his shirt (and shoes and socks) on as Lori very carefully took off her camisole, bra and panties, neatly folding them up. Then she was all over him. She positioned herself so her vagina could absorb his hard-on in one massive thrust, and took him right down to his balls. She started rocking back and forth, frantically kissing him and touching his chest. It wasn't easy for him to caress her breasts and back, since he was lying at an angle guaranteed to produce backache and she was leaning over him. But he tried.

Lori was a noisy lover, and periodically Mike feared she would wake the girls and bring them into the living room. The house was pretty darn small for four, so it was no idle question. To counter it, he covered his mouth with hers and gave her tongue kisses until he was blue in the face. To counter his own desire, he began bucking at his own face, shifting his hips around, twisting his cock in Lori's cunt as he searched for that G-spot.

This went on for about five minutes before Mike suddenly got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The sinking feeling was caused by an intense sensation in his shaft. He was beyond the point of no return. He didn't think Lori, despite all the foreplay and her excitement, was nearly there yet.

"Lori … I'm gonna … CUM!" And that's what he did. He blasted her insides like a fire hose. She rode him as his face turned purple from exertion, until he had gone completely soft and had slipped out. She had never reached orgasm.

"Lori, let me do you, okay?" Lori slipped off Mike's lap, seeing the look of disappointment in his face. Lori didn't cum all the time, although Mike did, and he always felt terrible leaving her high and dry. He always tried to make up for it. Sometimes he succeeded.

Lori clenched her uterine walls to keep Mike's semen and seed inside her. She didn't know how she would manage raising another baby, but she loved Mike and the girls so much, and knew how much he wanted a son. Lori didn't love being pregnant and getting up to change diapers, and all that followed as time went on, but she had hoped for a son herself.

Mike settled down on the floor between Lori's legs. He wasn't into the "cream pie" bit, licking semen from a pussy, but he had no problems with touching a freshly fucked cunt. He held his palm turned upward and gently ran his fingers up and down the woman's slit, noting with pleasure that it still bloomed and that the clit was still engaged and filled with blood. Then he plunged two fingers way up inside her, touching all the walls, looking for that elusive orgasmic trigger. He was already stimulating her clit with his thumb.

"Ow," Lori said.

Mike froze in his tracks. Very carefully he extracted one finger from Lori, keeping the other pressed against the upper vaginal wall, trying to find a rough patch in those tissues. He used the withdrawn finger to stimulate the clit. He pushed the other finger in as deep as it would go, finding the cervix – there was a special patch of smooth tissue there, which often served as a trigger – while vigorously rubbing the top wall.

"Oh, Mike, it hurts, honey, would you please stop?"

Mike's face went gray, or at least it felt like it. Without a word, he withdrew entirely from Lori's body, stood up, and sat on the couch next to Lori. He cradled her in his arms. He nearly cried.

"I'm so sorry, Lori … I wanted you to have as good a time as I had."

"I know, Mike. Sometimes you try too hard. It's OK, really it is. I guess things weren't just quite right tonight."

The condolences on both sides went on for a while as the movie wound up. Mike sat in silence, catching the last twenty minutes. One time, he laughed. Lori cooed a couple of times. Mike eventually became hard again, but he didn't want to try fucking Lori a second time and risking failure a second time. Lori didn't push it. To tell the truth, things hadn't felt quite right from the beginning. She already had a doctor's appointment scheduled for next week.


The First Moms Club (S&P)



Finally, when the movie was over, Lori rose to turn it off. She had kept most of Mike's juices inside her body, but some of his cream trickled down one of her thighs. Mike's lap was a mess from mingled semen and pussy juices.

"Let's go look in on the girls," Lori said quietly. Then she grinned. "I know you don't want to, but you better put your pants on."

A couple of minutes later, with Mike fully dressed and Lori back in her blouse and skirt – the camisole, bra and panties would go to a special extra-gentle laundry – the proud mother and father walked into their little ones' room. The girls were sleeping soundly. Mike took Lori's hand in his and reveled at the sight. What a woman Lori was to have conceived the two little girls, not to mention raising them. Then he let go of her hand, walked over and kissed Stephanie on the forehead. Lori was already over at Carol's bed, caressing her gently. Carol woke up.

"Mommy?"

"Daddy and I just came to wish you good night. We didn't mean to wake you."

"You're the bestest mother in the world, Mommy."

Lori smiled. "Thank you, sweetheart. But there are lots of good mommies around. You may meet some of them someday." She kissed Carol on the forehead. "Give Daddy a hug and then go back to sleep."

Carol obliged, and was asleep almost immediately. Lori kissed Stephanie, who hadn't awakened (thank heaven!), and started for the bedroom. Mike came behind her. He held her hand.

*********************

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

Father Al Cunningham, an assistant pastor at Saint Theresa's Church and, on the side, the Chaplain to the Sheriff's Department, sighed a little bit as he sat in his side of the confessional, recognizing Mike Gibson's voice. He had known Mike a long time. Mike attended every Mass on Sunday and did everything he thought was required of a good Catholic. Lori had been raised Baptist and only came to the church occasionally, although she had raised no objections when Father Al had asked to baptize the girls into the faith. The girls came some of the time, when Mike could get them into the car. But they were still a little young to have the devotion Mike had, and Father Al hoped Mike wasn't forcing it on them. 

"What is this sin?"

"I have treated my wife wrongly."

Father Al sighed again. He liked Mike, but sometimes Mike's moral senses got warped. If Mike had cheated on Lori, or had succumbed to corruption, that would have been something. But Mike confessed few faults – too few, in Father Al's opinion. He knew there had been an allegation that Mike had raped Lori the first time they had made love. Father Al had checked the rape allegations thoroughly when Mike brought them up during a premarital counseling session. Lori hadn't been the accuser. An outside witness had been, and he had trespassed onto the scene in order to get a very good look. He had been a military policeman on the lookout for a good scalp, and Mike's taking Lori's cherry had been the perfect excuse. Father Al also knew that Lori had taken Mike's cherry at the same time, and neither of them had had any other lovers. 

At the next counseling session, Father Al had chided the lovers about pre-marital sex, sent Mike off to say his Hail Marys, had talked with Lori about what she might do to make peace with God as she saw fit, and had presided over the marriage ceremony and the girls' baptisms. Still, Father Al knew that Mike had never made peace with God on that score, because he hadn't made peace with himself.

"Would you wish to go into detail, my son?"

"Father … we made love a few nights ago." Pause. Father Al wanted to say, "That's what married couples do, you twit." But he kept silent until Mike said, "I'm pretty sure I hurt her."

"How did you do that? Did you injure her physically? Did you say something careless to upset her?"

"Physical. We were going along and all of a sudden –" Mike chose his words carefully – "I reached my peak too early. And then, when I tried to stimulate her, she thought it was too rough and made me stop."

Is that all?, thought Father Al to himself. "Did she say it was too rough? Did you get carried away? Were you taking out frustrations on her?"

"No," came the reply. "I tried and I tried. Maybe I did get frustrated, but I didn't try to injure her. I just wanted her to be happy."

A long silence from the other room. Then Father Al finally spoke. "Is that all you are willing to confess today?"

"Yes. I have tried to lead a wholesome life other than this."

"Then here is your penance. I direct you to step outside this church, stand on a street corner, balance yourself on one leg, and with the other leg kick yourself in the butt until your heel gets tired. Put that leg down, rest it until you can stand on it, and repeat with the other foot."

"What the …?" Mike was genuinely shocked. Nobody except his drill sergeant, now a tearoom owner downtown, had ever talked to him in that fashion, and the drill sergeant's words had not included "butt" or instructions on what to do to it.

"Michael, you've been my parishioner since you moved down here, and you and Lori and the girls have been friends since your engagement. But my marriage counseling must have gone right through your ear canals. Now turn around and look at me. I've taken a vow to keep your confessions secret. Now I'm going to confess to you, and you either take the same vow or go back to your penance."

A rather startled Mike took Choice #2. Father Al administered a quick version of the priest's vows to him, adding the joke threat of the 10 plagues of Egypt to descend on Mike's head if he ever broke them. Well, nine of the ten, anyway. Father Al knew about Lori's miscarriage of her son, and – with a widowed Abbess with children and grandchildren - had counseled her. She had taken it almost too well, but her grief had finally poured out until she was on the road to recovery.

"Mike, do you know how much work it entails to become a priest in the Society of Jesus?" The Jesuit order, one of the highest orders in Catholicism. Father Al seldom talked about it, although he had a Bible trivia game on his office computer -- the squad officers loved to play it -- and regularly contributed questions for people playing online.

"Nine years, isn't it?"

"That's right. Nine years of the most rigorous study and discipline you could expect from a seminarian. Do you know when and why I went through all that training?"

"Well, if I remember right, you were consecrated three years before Lori and I moved here. Hadn't you just been assigned to this parish?"

"Correct on the when, but you missed out on the why. I took these orders to bury myself. I blamed myself for the death of my wife. It was a brain aneurysm, something they could have found, but she never knew about it and I never looked. The doctors told me it was incurable anyway, but if they had found it earlier they might have been able to control it. Guilt drove me away from my entire family. My three kids, seven grandchildren to date, and an army of brothers, sisters, nephews, and nieces. They're scattered to the four winds, so I rarely see them even now."

"Have you stopped blaming yourself, Father?"

"Call me Al, we're equals now --for the moment, anyway. Yes, I did, once I started treasuring the good times we had together. Even her throwing a saucepan at me once, when she was pregnant and had a mood swing. I learned to duck. Later, I learned to stand still, because we would still get into arguments and she would throw things at the spot where she expected me to duck to. But we always made up for it. And not just in the bedroom, either. We genuinely cared for each other. That is the kind of thing that just doesn't go away, even when somebody dies or you have a fight or you feel like you haven't lived up to your responsibilities."

"There are a lot of nasty divorces," Mike replied. I'm going to be a cop. She may get tired of worrying about me all the time and take a hike."

"Well, if she does that, I've gravely underestimated her and I've pretty badly underestimated you. God really does know how many couples I've counseled where the marriage couldn't be saved and the two of them hate each other. But there was always something there, a love that exists under the surface. No matter what happens, there will be something deep inside that bonds you, and not just the girls either. Unless you go totally psycho and turn your back on God, He'll watch over you." The priest paused to let Mike think it over, and then continued.

"So, do you want to do the special penance, or do you want to talk with Lori and see what might have been wrong that night or any other night you feel guilty about? From my own personal experience, when a wife complains of hurting when her husband does what 's normal, she's probably ill and doesn't know it, or has some stress that she doesn’t want to talk about, or her vision of the husband is just a slight bit blurred. Don't ask me to define that last one, you'll know it yourself."

"Thank you, Al – I mean, Father Al," replied Mike. "I won't say anything to anybody about what you told me. God bless you and your family."

"Your intercession is gratefully appreciated," replied the priest. "Now get your butt out of here. Lori called me, knowing you were coming here, and wanted you to pick her up at the hospital when you got through with this confession business. "AND," Father Al fired at Mike's back, "you bring those girls around here more often. I know that to four- and two-year-olds, Mass is more boring than a Psychic Friends Hotline infomercial, and we don't have Sunday schools like the Protestants do, but we have all sorts of youth groups and play groups for them whenever you want them to meet some good Catholic kids."

Mike grinned, gave the priest the high sign and left. He had gotten as far as the vestibule when the church secretary came hurrying up to him.

"Mr. Gibson?" the secretary inquired, out of breath. "Mrs. Gibson telephoned the office a few minutes ago. She wouldn't tell me what was wrong, but it sounds really bad. She said for you to meet her at the hospital ASAP."

*****

Mike double-timed it to the hospital. A patrol officer actually pulled him over, heard his story and gave him an escort. He got to the reception desk and was told Lori was over at the oncology clinic. Oncology?, he wondered as he got directions to the waiting area. Once there, he was given directions to an examination room. Lori was there, wearing a hospital gown and nothing else. A doctor was with her.

"Do you want to tell him, or should I?" the doctor inquired of Lori.

"You tell him. I'd stumble over the definitions. But I'll show him the spot."

Lori's gown was the usual almost-backless type. It was no trick at all for her to raise it and show him the mole.

"Mr. Gibson, you are looking at a malignant melanoma. One of the worst types of cancer you can find."

Mike sank into a chair. Lori picked up the story.

"The doctors told me it had …" she searched for the word "metastasized," which the doctor gave her. "I've got it in my spine and my uterus as well. That's why I was hurting the other day when we made love. It's probably why we lost the baby."

"Oh, dear God," Mike murmured.

"I'd like permission to perform a hysterectomy, and start Mrs. Gibson on a course of chemotherapy and radiation treatments. I've spent the last hour talking to her about all it entails. Mrs. Gibson, would you want to tell him?"

"Later," Lori said. "It'll be bad. But they think they can cut or bombard everything. I want them to. Every moment is precious now, with you and with the girls."

"There are no guarantees with this type of cancer," the doctor said. "We may be buying time at a terrible cost in pain, nausea, weakness, fragile bones, you name it. I can tell you she'll battle this for the rest of her life. I can't tell you how long that will be. But," turning to Lori, "you have an indomitable spirit. That makes a lot of difference, I promise you. From what you and others have told me, you have enough happiness and love for several people, and enough desire to fight for your life to make it worth trying."

A long pause.

"We'll try," Mike finally said.

***************

They had gotten two years.

Two years could be excruciatingly long or agonizingly short. As Lori lay in the hospital bed, she knew Mike had felt it was the latter. Especially the last few months, when the spinal cancer had returned and she could no longer walk or feel sex. She had broken several bones. And the pain … Lori closed her eyes as she remembered it. The worst part was how it had hurt Mike. 

Mike had moved up quickly in the ranks, becoming one of the most respected men on the beat. Lori had worked until this most recent crisis. They had managed well enough financially. And now the girls were six and four, old enough to know their mother, not yet old enough to feel the pain Mike had felt.

There had been some good times. Lori loved remembering the trips to activities at the Catholic preschool for the girls. She had never converted, and the girls were still too young to make a personal commitment to the Lord, the way Lori had been raised. But that was a minor detail. They enjoyed play and story time and arts and crafts, and Carol was starting to play T-ball. She was pretty good at it. 

And there had been some good times in bed too. One lovemaking session in particular came back to her. Mike had been so concerned that Lori would break, he had been extra gentle and caring. What a surprise he got when Lori rode him like a racehorse, dragged his face into her pussy and made him lick the combined juices, gobbled his cock like it was the best chili dog man ever made, got on her hands and knees and lubed up her bottom, and a few other things – all in the same sex session. It must have been the hormone replacement therapy, or maybe one last effort at teenage love. That night, she didn't break – although she bent like a gymnast several times. Mike had finally fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion, having set a personal best for orgasms in one night. Lori had had twice as many, maybe more.

Mike wasn't here at the moment. He was working a long shift, trying to string work times together so he'd have all the time in the world to spend with her when the end came, which wouldn't be long now. He was scheduled to come in, with the girls, in the early morning. Lori offered a silent prayer of thanks that the hospital supplied its own beauty stylists for women. She had lost so much weight during her illness, and pain had etched itself so deep into her face, that without her wig and without lots of corrective makeup she would have traumatized Freddy Krueger, not to mention little girls.

Lori had a television and plenty of reading materials in her room, and she used them fairly often, but sometimes she needed human companionship. She thought for a little while, and then pushed the call button for the nurses' station. She wondered what was going on tonight, if they were busy or if things were slow.

The answer was not long in coming. Sandy Kendall, the charge nurse, came into Lori's room. Sandy was pretty young to run a ward, but she had a friendly and easygoing manner that reminded Lori of herself … back when. Lori's eyebrows – recently grown back after a round of chemotherapy – went up when she saw Sandy was carrying a big book and a well-thumbed spiral notebook under her arm.

"I hope I didn't disturb you, Sandy," Lori said.

"Oh, no, not at all! It's very slow tonight and I thought I would get some studying in. I'll just put these on the table and pull up a chair."

"What are you studying for … re-certification?"

"Actually, I'm in pre-med." Sandy lowered her voice and continued. "You're lucky in one way. Doctor Butler isn't an asshole. He's about the only one who isn't. I swear, I could do a better job with patients than almost any doctor affiliated with this hospital, and I'm going to try and prove it."

The complaint didn't surprise Lori at all. She'd seen more doctors in two years than most people saw in months at a golf course. Some of them were nice. Others were very brusque. Sometimes the brusque ones were very efficient, and she appreciated that, but some of them didn't see her as a person at all.

"The reason I called you in, Sandy … there is one thing Mike can still do for me, but he's not here. My neck still gets stiff. Could you rub it?"

Sandy was happy to comply. As she rubbed Lori's neck, the two women chatted quietly, as if one of them wasn't going to die very soon. At one point, Sandy's wedding ring got turned around and the stone dug into Lori's flesh. Lori put her hand up. Sandy realized her mistake and took her hand away, but Lori took hold of the hand and admired the wedding band.

"What does your husband think about you becoming a doctor?"

"He's not happy about the cost, or about being the only wage earner in the family, but other than that, he likes it. I think he thinks he's got his in-house physician for free. Or at least, at a price he can afford." Sandy giggled, then told the truth. "Actually, he's had his share of bad doctors. He got burned in an accident while we were dating – fifty percent of his body, including much of his face. He couldn't believe I still wanted to marry him. I told him, are you kidding? He had learned so much about suffering that he was the world's most compassionate lover."

"I challenge you on that," Lori said, waggling a finger playfully. "I still have Mike."

"I know, but Mike carries his sorrow around with him. I've seen him sitting by himself in the waiting room when they're working on you. I don't know when he'll be truly happy again."

I do, thought Lori as her neck muscles relaxed. When he learns to love again, and someone loves him as much as I do. Thank God he loves the girls and his work.

"Is that enough?" Sandy asked. "I think I got the knots pretty well this time."

"I didn't notice," said Lori. She swiveled her head around. "But it doesn't hurt a bit. Sometimes you forget the good things. Thank you so much. Now, get back to your studies. And tell your husband hi for me."

Lori must have dozed off very soon after Sandy finally left. When she woke, she realized it was only a few minutes until her beauty appointment. The door to her room was already open. Lori realized Mike must have gotten there earlier than usual and looked in on her sleeping. And then – of all things – she heard Stephanie's voice out in the hall, responding to something.

"I want to be a doctor too someday," Stephanie was saying clearly.

**********

Apparently those out-of-body stories are true, Lori thought. She was standing at the entrance to a long tunnel. She could see people at the end of it, but they were too far away for her to recognize. 

Lori turned around and saw herself in bed. She had been sedated two days earlier. She still had an oxygen tube. Her memories of the last days were fragmentary, but she thought she remembered a discussion about whether to take her off the ventilator. Mike had finally said no. "I don't want her to smother to death." Lori was grateful for that. In the very last stages, the pain had abated and she had had some peace.

Lori looked around and realized the tunnel was shorter. There was a young man standing at the edge of it. Lori stared until she recognized him. Danny Bergen! He had been the class nerd with crushes on all the pretty girls, the subject of lots of teasing and bullying. But he was smart, and he had helped Lori out with her homework a few times. She hadn't returned his puppy love, but she had liked him. He had decided to try to go macho in his senior year at high school, had bought a motorcycle, and had died in a crash. Lori remembered his funeral, the largest ever seen in the county. He waved hello. She waved back.




The First Moms Club (S&P)



Then Lori was back in bed. The sedation must have worn off, she thought. Then she realized why she was back from the edge of the tunnel. The room was crowded with her friends, with her daughters, with Father Al, and with all the nurses on the shift. Mike was leading them in singing some of her favorite songs. Lori's eyes shone. Somehow – she didn't know how – she smiled. The breathing tube was impossible to remove, but she reached up with one hand and adjusted it so some of her lips were accessible.

The tunnel returned, much shorter now. Lori wondered if she needed to step into it and cross over. She decided no, the tunnel should come to her. She looked at Danny again. She gestured that she would wait a little while and he nodded his acknowledgment. Then she was back in the room.

More time must have passed than she figured. Father Al and the girls were gone from the room, along with all of the nurses except Sandy. Mike was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her hand. Lori realized Father Al didn't want the girls to watch their mother die. It's all right, she thought, I'm not afraid. 

There was one more thing to do. She pulled mightily. It barely translated, but Mike felt it. He leaned very close. With her last bit of strength, Lori inclined her head up and offered what she could of her lips. She closed her eyes as Michael kissed her.

The tunnel was gone. Lori and Danny stood side by side, looking down at the scene. Michael was sobbing uncontrollably. Thank Father Al for not letting the girls see this, Lori thought. 

Lori turned to Danny and asked, "Are you the Angel of Death?" 

Danny let out a hearty chuckle. "You must have watched too much Touched by an Angel. No, I'm just me. I came here to welcome you because you were always so nice to me. You were one of the few girls that I got over having the hots for. Your friendship helped me out a lot, more than you know."

"What will happen to Mike? Can you see into the future?"

"Naaaah. It's Dante's rule. From The Inferno. Only the souls in Hell have prophetic powers, and even then they forget what they have seen when the events come around. It's their own special brand of torment. Those of us, on this side, only have what we brought with us. We can know from observation and make some pretty good guesses, but that's about it."

Lori looked back at Mike, who had composed himself a little, and at Sandy, who had tears in her eyes as she pulled the sheet over Lori's face. "I don't know Sandy very well. Have you observed her?"

"Sandy's a good lady. I almost met her husband once, when he got burned in that fire. He stopped at the tunnel and resolutely turned back. He must have had a mighty good reason and it wasn't hard to guess what. I don't know if they'll have kids or not, but I have a really good idea that she's going to make a fine doctor."

Lori was looking at Mike. "He won't be happy again – truly happy – until he falls in love again."

"That's a mighty tall order there, Missy. I can't tell you how many times I've heard spouses say they could never love again, not after nursing their loved ones through a long decline. I even saw it on The Golden Girls once. Blanche's father remarried, and he said that exact thing. The woman he had found had nursed her husband through the same lingering illness at the same time he had cared for his wife. Not many people find that kind of coincidence. Whenever the show's on Lifetime and someone I know is watching it, I stop in for a peek, hoping to catch that episode."

"So we can go wherever we wish? Do whatever we can?"

"Go anywhere, yes. But all that intervention stuff is strictly for TV. Freedom of choice is God's strictest rule. Remember that parable of the rich man in Hell and Lazarus in Heaven? We can't intervene, we can't come back as someone else, any of that. We can root for them, but that's about it."

Lori thought about that qualifier, but decided to let it pass. She had a lot of things to learn. And she was already rooting for Mike and the girls. She could tell Mike would get all the help his friends – and her friends – could give her.

"Come on," Danny said. "I'd like you to meet some of my friends."

**************

Six months later, after Mike had made Corporal and had bought a new house with Lori's insurance money, he met Detective Linda Shannon for the first time. Like Wyatt Earp before him, Mike used his prowess in target shooting – going through the "Hogan's Alley" firing range and dropping the targets with astonishing efficiency and speed – to bolster his reputation on the street. That, combined with his muscular Marine bulk, had made more than one "perp" throw down his gun and give up meekly rather than challenge Mike in a fight, and the word on the street had spread that nobody took on Shannon unless the perp had a death wish for himself. 

But that afternoon, he met his match. Mike, a little prone to vanity, had bet Linda dinner she couldn't match his score. She collected promptly and succinctly. Linda hit every target, tying the course record Mike had just set for speed.

Mike was a very gracious loser – in part because he found he REALLY admired Linda's professionalism. After dinner, one thing had led to another, and Mike wound up astonished and delighted when Linda made love to him with the same skill she had shown with a gun, and with a lot more caring and enthusiasm. Before much time had passed, Mike and Linda were putting the guest bedroom to good use – Linda never asked to use the master bedroom, which was next to the girls' room – and Carol and Stephanie were becoming two of Linda's best friends. 

"Going voyeur, are we?" Danny said, as he strolled up to Lori shortly after Linda and Mike had disengaged from one session. Lori blushed.

"I have to admit, I was curious. I wanted to know what Mike had learned about lovemaking. I sure learned a lot when we were together. Linda knows a lot too."

"So, Miss Know-It-All, is Mike going to fall in love again?"

"I really doubt it," Lori said. "There's something about Linda. I can't place my finger on it, but I don't think she's in love with him. This is some kind of mutual help society. They are really close friends and I know she's helping him with his grief, but I don't know what's in it for her."

Linda, now fully dressed and not showing any signs of past activity, headed for the girls' room. Linda knocked on the door and was granted admittance. Linda sat down in a rocking chair and both girls clustered around her. 

"How did the reading lesson go tonight, Carol?" Linda asked with a twinkle. Carol was now seven and was teaching five-year-old Stephanie how to read. 

"Great!" Carol replied, producing a Dr. Seuss Beginner Book. The girls pointed out all the words that Stephanie had recognized. Linda's pleasure was obvious. 

"Do you have any more Beginner Books? Dr. Seuss must have written a hundred of them. I learned to read from them, and I think my mom did too."

Carol hopped up, went to the bookshelf, and searched a batch of books with the Cat in the Hat on the cover, finally selecting a story about a goldfish. 

"Oh, I remember that one! Mrs. Dr. Seuss wrote that one. I read that when I was a little girl. But I never read it aloud. Would you let me read it aloud to you?" The girls acquiesced happily. 

The cover of the book indicated its fantasy tone– a goldfish the size of a dolphin went cascading down the basement stairs, with its little boy riding the wave behind. It was a straight narrative rather than a Seussian rhyme, and Linda stopped before each turn of the page to show the increasingly bigger goldfish being transferred from fishbowl to flower pot to cooking pot to clothes washtub to bathtub, down to the cellar, out the cellar window and into a truck, and finally ending up in a municipal swimming pool – all as a result of eating too much. Finally the pet-store owner leaped into the pool, did something – he never told what – and brought the fish out, back to his normal size. Lori thought, "Boy, that fish was lucky he didn't die from the chlorine in the pool," but that was a minor quibble. Linda seemed to really get a kick out of it.

"She has some kind of love, doesn't she?" Danny again. Lori had almost forgotten he was there. "Do you know much about her?"

"I never saw her before she caught Mike flatfooted on the firing range. But her name is familiar … Linda … Linda Shannon?"

Danny's eyebrows went up. "There was a guy in business school who talked to our class once. His last name was Shannon. Went on to be a banker. Big shot guy, but he went through an ugly divorce over his wife's career."

It was coming back to Lori. "Oh, God bless her! She's buried in her work, has two children she never sees, and not too long ago she lost her best friend." To Danny's quizzical look, Lori explained: "One day when I was looking over my grave, a funeral procession came in. An undercover cop killed on duty. After everyone else left, Linda got a special bouquet from her car and placed it on the mound of earth." 

Danny had a smirk on his face. "Yes, I've been following Linda around," Lori snapped. "She has a photo album at home with pictures of her kids, her ex-husband, the divorce decree, and the other officer, and with the other officer it's obvious she's been deeply in love. Mike doesn't know anything about any of it."

"Well, that explains a lot," Danny said. "We have two people, each mourning a loss, they find each other, they obviously bond with each other, and yet neither one is in love with the other because they feel they can't love again?"

"Linda loves those girls," Lori said, softly. "She likes Mike a lot. Mike doesn't seem nearly as downcast now as he used to be. And he's one really good cop. For now, I'm satisfied."

**********

It took five more years before another woman entered Mike's life. 

To Lori, who had followed Linda's progress through the department, the contrast between the every-inch-a-cop Detective Shannon – the woman who took a new promotion exam every year and aced it, the tough and incredibly skilled police officer who did more than almost anybody to keep the streets safe from drug pushers and other thugs - and the woman who read to her daughters, taught them about going to school, hinted at the facts of life and cheered them on at everything, particularly ballet, was precious. Oh yes, Mike had worked hard to keep Lori's memory alive, and Linda revered Lori from her distant vantage point. But Aunt Linda had been the girls' best friend and confidante, and she could silence their misbehavior with a Lori look. 

But that was the point. She was Aunt Linda. Mike and Linda had never been a true couple. They had been bedroom partners, they had had a close and mutually supportive professional relationship, and they had even been personal friends. But the love had never come. It had taken Pat Morrison to win Mike's heart, and he hers. Lori had fretted about that, mostly wondering if Carol and Stephanie would take to Pat as a mother rather than as a stepmother. To Carol and Stephanie, Stephanie in particular, the woman who had given birth to them was more of a memory than anything else. Lori didn't mind that as much as she thought. What she wondered was whether Carol and Stephanie would ever know a real mother. That problem was solved early on, and Lori thought the girls' love had played a major role in Pat's wholehearted acceptance of Mike's marriage proposal.

Mike had never mentioned Linda to Pat, which was very curious to Lori (and in fact to Father Al as well). Was Mike afraid of jealousy between the two women? Although Mike and Linda no longer worked together, and Pat had been a mother figure to the girls almost from day one, both women had proved they could be the most loyal of friends, and from Lori's observation they had a lot in common. She hoped the two women would meet, and soon.

Mike and Pat got married on a beautiful morning. Lori stood just a few feet from Pat and Mike, and within inches of her daughters, during the ceremony. Linda slipped in at the back of the room, and Lori stood beside her for a few minutes, wanting to reassure her but resisting. After the ceremony, Pat and Mike raced through a hail of rice and well-wishers to head for Mike's car and their honeymoon on an island getaway. Lori didn't follow them. She waited until the day they got back into town, to spend one night in the house – for the first time, Pat would sleep in the master bedroom - before taking the girls on a Disney World vacation.

That night, Pat went into the master bedroom early, while Mike sat down with the girls and explained what they might hear and why. It went more smoothly than Mike expected. Carol was an early bloomer and Pat had been careful to talk to her about reproduction, health, and the feelings most adolescents get toward the kids who formerly "had cooties." Carol had been enthralled, and had told Stephanie as much. Still, "Mommy and Daddy are going to make love now" didn't sound quite the same when Mommy wasn't there to help Daddy with his own shyness. But Pat had a different purpose.

Pat had moved her things into the house over the last several weeks, but there were a few personal items remaining to be put in place. She unpacked a suitcase with her nightwear and lingerie, and opened a half of the dresser. Mike had cleaned it out after Lori's death, putting her Marine uniform in mothballs (along with his own), and saving some of the items for hand-me-downs to the girls. So, why would the empty drawer stick?

All police officers have flashlights for patrol duty. Some of them buy spares, the $100 super-powerful kind, and keep them at home, just in case. Pat went to the nightstand and found Mike's right away, along with his Swiss army knife. Then she went to work on the drawer. 

That was curious! A folded and taped piece of paper had been wedged in the track, preventing the drawer from opening. Pat could have given it up there, left the paper for the privacy of whoever wrote it, and stuffed her items in the half-open drawer, and that's almost what she did. But then she felt a touch on her shoulder. She spun around guiltily – but there was no one there. The only thing different was she now had a feeling that this was all right. 

Using various segments of the knife, Pat got the paper loose. Unfortunately, she had to lean on the drawer to do so, and she wound up in an unceremonious heap on the floor, back against the bedrail, drawer upside down in her lap. That's how she spotted the neatly folded plastic bag taped to the back of the drawer. The note went flying, and fluttered down almost in her face. Using the knife blade, Pat very carefully slit the tape until the note was fully opened. In a trembling hand, it read:

To Mike's new love,

If you are reading this, you must be the right woman for the man I loved for so long and still love today. He must love you with all his heart, and you must love him, perhaps even more than I did. 

Please go ahead and open the plastic bag. It contains some items that are very dear to us both. I have a few other trinkets scattered around the house, but there's also a note in the bag, which will tell you how to find them. But, if you love Mike, please take the items in the bag and use them right now, tonight. I can't explain why in words, but he'll know and then you'll know.

The First Mom,

Lori

Inside the bag were the camisole, the bra and the panties from that first night.

Pat tore off every stitch of her clothing in a matter of moments and put on the lingerie items. None of them fit properly – the camisole was too short, the bra too small, the panties too large – but it didn't matter.

Mike knocked on the door just after Pat had loaded her stuff into the drawer and put it back into place. The plastic bag and its note were under the bed. Pat let Mike hold up for a moment, arranged herself on the bed, and called out, "Come in, Lieutenant-to-be Gibson."

Mike came in the door so turned on that for a moment he didn't notice what Pat was wearing. But only for a moment. His knees went weak and he sat down on the bed beside her.

"Where … where did you find those?"

Pat thought of telling him the whole story, but then she felt something again. All she said was: "Lori gave them to me."

Mike couldn't understand. Pat gave him the note. He read it and burst into tears. 

"Lori wore that ensemble for me the first time we made love … the first time either of us made love. I hadn't seen it since before she got sick. I never saw anyone more beautiful than her in that outfit – until I met you." He jumped off the bed, knelt, mumbled a very quick prayer and crossed himself. 

Then he was back, and with a hunger he hadn't felt since that first night with Lori. And Pat matched it. They embraced so hard they tumbled off the bed and onto the floor. Mike went straight for Pat's neck, kissing and sucking on it like a wild man, while he palmed her breasts thought the camisole. To Pat's delight, she loved the neck kissing and earlobe-sucking. She ripped his shirt out of his pants and clutched his bare back as he kissed all the way down her front, including a big juicy one on the crotch of the panties, then down her legs and back up again. 

When he arrived back at Pat's face, she grabbed him, plunged her tongue into his mouth, and ripped every button off his shirt. Then she kissed all the way down his front, tearing the button from his pants loose and yanking out his belt so fast he thought he heard a whip crack. When she got his pants unzipped and his erection in reach, she swung around on top of him, grinding her front into his front, the crotch of the panties in his face. He shoved his face in deep and licked every piece of flesh he could find, occasionally using his fingers and nose to get at more. She screamed her first orgasm within minutes. Pat was doing a great job touching, licking and sucking his hard-on, but she flung herself off, landed on her back in a splayed position, and said, "Lori won't mind anymore! TAKE ME!"

Mike grabbed the panties at the waistband and tore them right down the middle. He plunged his face to her chest and face for a minute, licking and sucking and tearing the bra to pieces. Then he posed himself at her entrance and slammed in so hard that both of them saw stars, courtesy of the headboard. Mike dragged Pat down to the bottom edge of the bed and plunged again. And again. And again. Meanwhile, Pat was gripping his hands, sucking on his nipples (surprise, he liked it!), and kissing everything she could. He blasted off so deep and hard that he was surprised he didn't hit her Fallopian tubes. 

Pat grabbed Mike by the shoulders and kissed him as hard as she could. Then she asked: “Did you ever try anal sex?”

The look on Mike’s face told the whole story. Pat pulled out from underneath him, flipped over and wiggled her bottom at him. Over her shoulder she cooed: “I don’t always get off on it myself. But if you’re still a virgin that way, or think you are, then I want to take your cherry.”

Mike thought his hard-on would have deflated after an orgasm like the previous one. He looked down at his shaft and got a lesson in how desire overcomes physiology. But there was still one question to ask. “But you’re not lubed up. How could you take me back there without breaking the mood?”

Pat squeezed her vaginal muscles together and released them. Mike’s eyebrows widened. She said: “Use your imagination.”

By the time Lori exited the room, Mike had gripped the sides of the camisole so hard that the seams had torn almost their entire lengths. Mike had come three times to Pat’s four.

Lori wondered how the girls had taken the sounds of lovemaking, and ventured into their room. The minute she saw them, she knew Patricia was an official mom to them. They were almost asleep, smiles of little-girl pleasure on their faces which divulged their feelings about Dad’s new happiness. Lori touched them, the way she had touched Pat a while earlier. She kissed each of them on the forehead and left.




The First Moms Club (S&P)



Danny was standing in the street when Lori came out of the house. He waggled his finger at her.

"What did I tell you about the non-intervention rule?" 

"Oh, Danny, I know, but I'd spend 50 years in purgatory for those people. I just hope I'm out by the time Pat gets to heaven. I want to meet her in person."

"Oh, come on. You didn't do a thing wrong, really. Question, though. How did you plant the lingerie in the drawer? You can't move things."

"I did that before I went to the hospital for the last time. I knew Mike would never let another woman into his bedroom unless he was truly in love. I wedged it in there so Mike wouldn't find it himself by accident. You know how men are!"

Danny grinned. "But you still touched Pat."

"Just in case. I wanted to make sure she didn't get all mushy and leave my business to myself. And I did kiss the girls before I left. They were too asleep to remember what happened to them, but now they have a new mom and I want them to use all the love they had for me toward Pat. Call it 'The First Moms Club.' Like the First Wives Club, but more benevolent."

"I'll say," Danny said, ruefully. Then he stopped and looked around. He pointed to the back door.

"What are they doing now?" he asked. Lori looked puzzled, then headed to the back yard. 

Pat, wearing one of Mike's shirts and her own panties, and Mike, wearing a T-shirt and shorts, were out back. Mike went to the tool shed and got a shovel. Pat looked around the yard until she found a clear spot. Then she brought out something. Lori instantly recognized it as the bag she had just given Pat. What was left of her camisole, bra and panties were inside.

Mike quickly dug a hole and Pat placed the bag inside it. She knelt in the loose dirt and spoke to the bag.

"Lori," she said, "I'll find those other keepsakes and treasure them. I'm sorry we wound up destroying your gift, but I hope you'll understand. You helped make Mike the wonderful man he is. I can't thank you enough. We can't just throw these away, so we'll bury them here and use the rest of the space for a pet cemetery if we need one. I have a feeling you can hear me. I hope someday I meet you."

Mike filled in the hole, crossed himself again, said a quiet blessing and took Pat by the hand. They exchanged a huge kiss. Then they went back into the house. It wasn't hard to figure out what they would do next.

"Well! I never saw that before, and I'm pretty sure nobody else has." Danny.

"Guess it's time for me to go. I'll drop back by every so often to check on them, but I can tell they're all in good hands – except maybe Linda, and she's bound to find SOMEONE." Lori kept the photos of Linda's loved one to herself. Sooner or later, she vowed, Linda would meet Pat and then rekindle her friendship with Mike. Lori wouldn't intervene; she would just wish and she knew it would happen.

And with that, Lori started walking away, back to her new friends.

"Say," said Danny, "I made a new buddy last week. You might want to meet her. She talks kind of funny, because she's Albanian and learned her English in India, but she sure likes to chat with young folks. You may have heard of her …"

THE END

SEE YOU IN 50 YEARS – OR SO