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Paddling Upstream

By Strickland83

I had enough written to give a good idea of where the book was heading. I sent what I had written already off to my agent so he could see what I was up to, then I headed to bed. The sheets felt stiff where the several wet spots had dried. Instead of changing the sheets, I drifted off to sleep, smiling as I remembered how those spots had been made.

"I love it, Michael," George�s voice gushed forth from the telephone the next day. "I see the old you in here. It warms my heart to see you back on track."

"Thanks, George. I feel it, too. I feel good about this project."

"So do you have an idea of how long to finish it?"

"Give me at least a few months, less than a year at the outside. I don�t have an idea for the ending yet."

"Okay, okay, I won�t push, but I will start sending it around to the publishing houses. They are going to want to take a good look at this."

"George�"

"Don�t worry. I know it�s rough. They know it, too. I just want to stir up interest. You know, let them all know you�re still working. You do your part and let me do mine."

"You know best."

George laughed. "You just keep making us money. I�ll call you back next week after I let a few people look at this."

The phone call had really brightened up my morning. I didn�t expect to hear from George so quickly. He must have been very anxious to see what I was working on to read it right away and call me. Even with his office an hour ahead of me, it still wasn�t even lunchtime for him. Satisfied with his response, I put the writing aside for the rest of the day and thought about the evening ahead.

Whenever I thought of Lindsey, I smiled. I didn�t even feel guilty when I thought of Theresa. I was coming to grips with the reality that she was a part of my life, a former part, and Lindsey was the present. Perhaps even the future? I wondered. It was too early to think about that, but it was a nice daydream.

I thought about bringing something to Lindsey, remembering what Amanda had told me. Lindsey had never said what she was planning. She had really liked the margaritas so I wanted to bring those. I ran to the grocery store after lunch and picked up a few things.

Being a small town, I ran into many of Fournton�s residents as I negotiated the narrow aisles of the grocery store. It was a problem because everybody remembered my name while I in turn had so many new names to learn. To them, I was a celebrity. An anonymous one, but celebrity none the less.

I also picked up some flowers and, at the checkout, grabbed a packet of catnip for Brisco. I thought, on the drive home, how I was acting the way I had when I had first met Theresa. That had been a wonderful time in my life. I missed that time, the newness of falling in love, and I was enjoying reliving it. I still missed Theresa, but I had finally reached the point where I could move on and start over.

I showed up at Lindsey�s door at three o�clock. I was early, but I was anxious to see her. When she came to the door, she was wearing a light robe.

"I was getting out of the shower when I heard the doorbell. Come on in while I get dressed."

"Don�t get dressed on my account," I said with a smile. "Hello, Brisco. I have a surprise for you."

"Pervert," Lindsey teased, kissing me. Then, bending down and scratching Brisco�s head, she told the cat in a stage whisper, "I think he likes us. He�s bringing us presents."

"For the lady of the house," I said as I handed her the flowers, "and for you, Mr. Brisco."

I opened the plastic bag and put the cloth pouch of catnip in front of her cat. He sniffed curiously at it twice before picking it up in his paws as he rolled over on the floor. Lindsey laughed.

"Are you planning to get us both drunk just so you can take advantage of me?"

"Speaking of getting you drunk, I brought the stuff to make margaritas. I hope that�s alright."

"Yes, I love your margaritas. I�m glad you thought of that."

"I�ll go out to the car and get the rest of the stuff."

Lindsey went off to get dressed while I brought in the VitaMix, Margarita mix and tequila. I set up a makeshift bar on her counter while I watched Brisco play.

"Better take that stuff a little at a time, fellow, or you will end up with a hangover."

"He can do that for hours," Lindsey said as she walked back in the room. "I love to watch him. It�s his way of getting stoned."

"What�s for dinner?" I asked as I loaded up the blender.

"Men! Is that all you think of? Food and sex?"

"Pretty much," I said. "But I am willing to help� with both."

"Good. Make me a good stiff drink."

I did just that. I admired Lindsey�s ass while she was reaching up to get two glasses. She was wearing very short terrycloth shorts and a t-shirt that came only to her midriff. She was obviously showing a lot of skin for my benefit and it was my intention for her effort to not be wasted.

We took our drinks outside to her swing. It had been another really warm day but the shade was nice and the frozen drinks helped cool us off. Lindsey sat with her legs crossed on the seat and I rested a hand on her knee.

"How did it go at the market this morning?" I asked her.

"Fine. We�re getting to the end of the summer vegetables. Grandpa is already talking about his winter garden. I�ll be starting school soon, too."

"Yes, school. The little ones. Are you looking forward to that, or do you hate the start of school?"

Lindsey giggled. "Believe it or not, I really enjoy the start of school. It�s the children. They come in with eager faces, all ready to learn. I love teaching." Then, she put her feet down and turned to fully face me. "Michael, will you do me a big favor?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked warily. I had no idea what she wanted but I was willing to do just about anything for her.

"When school starts, would you come talk to my class? It would be wonderful for them to meet a real life author when we�re studying creative writing. Please?"

"Lindsey, I don�t know�"

"Aw, come on, Michael. For me?"

I wavered but I knew in the end I wouldn�t be able to tell her no.

"You know that I have never publicly�"

"This is elementary school, after all. Come on. I�m not asking you to name your books. Just talk about creative writing."

I didn�t have a chance. Not with that cute face asking so coquettishly. Before I knew it, I was caving in.

"Okay, I�ll think about it."

"Think a lot about it. It won�t be for several weeks yet, but I would love for you to talk to them. Maybe even a few of the other classes?"

"Lindsey�"

"They�re small classes."

I knew I was defeated.

Looking into those lovely blue eyes, I said the only thing I could.

"I�ll do it."

As soon as I said it, I regretted it. This was a big step for me. I was agreeing to appear in public as an author.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Lindsey said as she hugged me. "This will be so awesome. My creative writing lessons will never be the same," she said excitedly.

I didn�t share her excitement, but I was happy to be doing something for her.

"When?" I asked.

"Oh, don�t worry about that. I can schedule it around you. Not until about a month into the school year."

Brisco had followed us outside. He jumped up on the swing and settled next to me. I petted his coat and Lindsey noticed I had become quiet.

"You don�t really want to do this, do you?" she asked gently.

"That�s not it. Well, not exactly. I want to do it for you. I just didn�t intend to be doing anything publicly as a writer."

"Why are you so secret about it? If I was famous, I would tell everybody."

"No, you wouldn�t."

She leaned over me a little and petted her cat along with me.

"Why not?" she asked, still looking down at Brisco.

"Being famous is not all it is cracked up to be. There is a lot to be said for being unknown. You have a lot more freedom to move around, to make friends." I put my hand over hers. "You know that people are your friends because they like you, not because of who you are."

Brisco forgotten, Lindsey turned over until she was lying in my lap and looking up at me.

"You don�t ever have to worry about me, Michael. I like you for you, not for any fame you might have."

"Thank you," I told her. Then I put my arm behind her neck and bent down as I lifted her so we could kiss. The tenderness of that kiss spoke volumes. I knew I wasn�t falling in love with Lindsey. I was already there.

My stomach seized that moment to grumble, spoiling the moment. Lindsey giggled as our lips parted.

"I think it�s time to get dinner going."

She poked me in the stomach gently before getting up. I followed her back inside. Brisco chose to keep sleeping on the swing.

We worked side by side in the kitchen as we had done before. We worked well together and had fun doing it. Dinner this time was less formal, a sign that we were becoming more comfortable with each other. As Lindsey began serving the plates, I heard Brisco meowing at the door so I let him in. He seemed to have a knack of knowing when mealtime was.

After dinner, we watched a movie together. Lindsey had picked out one of her old romantic favorites�Somewhere In Time. I held on to her as we watched, my thoughts drifting to how the two of us were separated by time. My life was becoming divided into two times. The first was my life with Theresa. The second was my life with Lindsey.

After the movie was over, we retired to the bedroom where we shed our clothes and joined as one. After we had made love and cleaned up, I was on my back in the darkness, aware of Lindsey�s body across my chest. She had pressed one ear to my chest, saying she wanted to listen to the sound of my heart.

We were quiet and I did some thinking. I thought of how my life had changed. I had finally come to grips with the loss of Theresa. She would always be in my heart but Lindsey had taught me that there was room for another. Now I could not imagine Lindsey not being part of my life. It had been a hard journey paddling upstream but she had given me the guidance I needed. I felt it was time to tell her about my past, about Theresa and about who I really was.

"Lindsey?" I called out softly.

"Hmm?" she answered sleepily, not moving.

"I have something to tell you," I said.

"That�s nice," she said very sleepily.

"I need you to listen. I don�t know that I have the courage to tell you more than once."

But it was too late. I could hear that her breathing was deeper. She had fallen asleep. The moment was lost. By morning, my courage had faltered.

It was a few weekends later when we had some friends over for a pool party. I was serving my now famous Margaritas along with barbeque from the big circular brick pit. It was mid afternoon when Lindsey went to pour another drink and the pitcher was empty.

"I�ll fix another batch," she called to me as she headed inside. I nodded and went on talking, answering questions about what it was like to be a writer.

When I noticed that Lindsey had not returned, I grew concerned and excused myself to see if she was having difficulties. I found her in the kitchen, the VitaMix sitting untouched. She was sitting at the table, where I had left my notebook turned on. The screen was on and she was reading intently. I panicked, silently chastising myself for leaving it open. She heard me come in but didn�t turn away from the screen.

"What the hell is this?" she said, but her tone was not apologetic. Rather, it was cold. Cold like the ice cubes melting in the pitcher sitting next to her. "You�re Ken Stryker, aren�t you?"

I tried to answer, "Yes" but fear made the words stick in my throat.

"You�re writing about us. About me. This is me in here. I looked through some of this. It�s the stuff we did, what you did with me." It was a cold statement, not a question. She turned to face me and I immediately saw angry tears on her cheeks. "I was falling for you. I thought I was in love with you. I thought you were in love with me. Is that all I am to you? Research? I�m not one of your characters."

"Lindsey, let me�"

"You son of a bitch. I was falling for you and you were nothing but a, a, phony!" She was screaming at me now, standing and in my face. She was shaking she was so angry. "All this time I thought we had something. I thought you cared about me."

"Lindsey," I tried again.

Her gaze left my eyes and she looked away, to the door.

"I don�t want to hear what you have to say. There is nothing you could say that could possibly explain what you have been doing. I�m getting out of here. I don�t want to speak to you. I�ve had enough of you. And get rid of this story. Delete it. Do not use me in one of your books."

She headed for the door. I tried to reach out to her.

"Do not touch me," she warned in a low even voice, almost a growl.

I backed off, wondering if I would ever get to look into those lovely eyes again.

"You don�t understand," I said finally, only I was saying it to the door that had slammed shut behind her.

I heard her car start on the driveway, then the engine turned off. My heart leapt at the thought that she was going to give me the chance to explain. Through the side window in the kitchen, I saw her walking around to the pool. As I opened the back door, I heard her asking for the other guests to move their cars so she could leave.

"What�s wrong, Lindsey?" Claire, her best friend asked.

Lindsey glared at me and, turning back to Claire, told her that I had not been completely truthful with her. I was waiting for her to tell them who I was but she didn�t. She wouldn�t explain further despite their repeated requests.

"I�m getting out of here," she said, tears making tracks down her cheeks.

A few of our friends were looking at me, no doubt wondering what I had done to her. I felt my face flush even as my heart was tearing apart inside.

"Lindsey, please let�s talk about this," I offered but she completely ignored me.

She turned and walked out to the street, leaving me in the middle of the awkward scene. I could feel the curious stares upon me, as if it was a physical pressure. They were all wondering what I had done to her.

They had been Lindsey�s friends before I came along so they naturally sided with her. They began drifting away, two by two, leaving me. I reached out to one as she started to walk out.

"Terry, talk to her for me. Please? Ask her to let me explain. She doesn�t understand."

"What did you do to her, Michael? What made her so upset?"

"I," I said and sighed deeply. "I based a character on her, in a book I�m writing."

Terry looked at me dubiously.

"It had to be more than that."

"That is why I need to talk to her. I don�t understand. This is all a big misunderstanding."

"You didn�t hit her? You aren�t cheating on her?" she asked.

"No! Certainly not. Not at all. I could never do any of that."

She studied my face for a long moment, perhaps deciding whether to trust me. Finally, she spoke.

"Okay, I�ll talk to her."

"Thank you."

"I can�t guarantee anything. I will see if she wants to talk to you. You need to give her some time to cool off."

I nodded.

"Yes, that would be good. Please call me, though? Let me know how she is doing."

"Okay," she said softly as she left.

One couple, Sam and Carly, stayed to help me clean up. They were silent at first as we picked up cups and plates, and put away leftover food. I was trying to hold back my own grief. I kept thinking that I might never get to hold Lindsey ever again.

Finally, as we were finishing up, Carly touched me on the arm.

"Michael, what really happened?" she asked.

She guided me to a chair and all three of us sat.

"Sam and I had a few rough spots that first year we were dating," she continued, "but we got through it. I hope you and Lindsey can work this out, whatever it is."

"I don�t want to lose her," I said, and a few tears escaped.

Carly embraced me and I began sobbing. Grief was consuming me, grief at the thought of losing Lindsey. In time, I managed to compose myself. I felt they deserved an explanation.

"Lindsey found my computer. I had left it on and she saw what I have been writing. I based the main character in my novel on her. I think she thinks I was dating her just for story ideas."

"Were you?" Carly asked me.

"No, of course not. I love Lindsey. I really do."

Carly smiled.

"I know you do."

When my face showed uncertainty, she touched me on the arm and said, "It shows when you two are together. It�s obvious you two have something special. I�m sure this will blow over. Give her some time."

I had time. I had the rest of my life. What else was there in my life if not Lindsey?

"Michael, I trust you. I know you wouldn�t hurt Lindsey intentionally. I will do my best to argue your case to her if I get the chance."

I looked to her with gratitude.

"But, you have to promise me one thing."

"Anything," I told Carly.

"If you get back together, you will take care of her. You will love her."

"How could I do anything less?"

They both smiled at me and Sam shook my shoulder.

"It�ll be okay, Michael. Give it time."

Then they left and I was all alone. The house had never seemed so empty before, even before Lindsey filled it with her laughter. It was like�

When that thought came into my mind, I broke down and cried. I cried harder than I had ever had before. I was facing the reality that I had lost Theresa and I had probably lost Lindsey, too. I ended up with my head on the table, the cold hard granite offering no comfort. Like a tombstone.

I thought about getting drunk but I didn�t want to be that way in case Lindsey decided to call. I needed comfort at that moment but I was all alone. Then I remembered Amanda.

"Hi, Michael," Amanda greeted me cheerily. I could hear the smile on her face.

"Hi, Amanda. I really need a friend right now," I answered.

"What happened?" she asked, concern at once coloring her voice.

"I screwed up. Lindsey is furious with me."

"What did you do, hon? Tell me all about it."

Between sobs, I did just that. Over the course of a few hours, I told her about the party and about how Lindsey had found my computer. I told Amanda how I was basing the character on Lindsey and how she found my text.

"How much did you base on her? On your relationship?"

There was a pause.

"Michael? How much?"

"A lot," I answered in a small voice.

"Shit."

"Yes, my name is shit," I said in agreement.

Amanda chuckled at that.

"I�m sorry, Michael. That was funny, though. Seriously, I can see how she is pissed off at you. If you wrote about things in your private life, things the two of you shared, that would make her really furious. She didn�t find out your pen name, did she?"

"It was in the file," I said.

"Yeah, she�s pissed at you, alright. She found out what you�ve been hiding, and now she discovers that you have been writing about her without her knowledge."

"So what do I do now?" I asked.

"Hell, I don�t know. What you do not want to do is show up at her door and try to talk to her. Let her cool off first. Give her a few days."

"That is probably a good idea."

"That is a really good idea. You will have to go to her and apologize, but not yet. Do you two have any mutual friends? Any that are still talking to you?"

"Yes, a few. I asked Terry to keep me informed about how Lindsey�s doing."

"That�s good. Wait for her to call you. In the meantime, I wish I could give you a big hug. You sound like you need one."

"I do, Amanda. I really do."

We talked until her husband got home as she tried to comfort me. She certainly gave it her all as I was a difficult charge. By the time we hung up, I wasn�t feeling much better, but at least I had talked it out. I thanked Amanda and went to bed. Alone.

The loneliness was like what I had felt right after Theresa had died. I thought about moving away but I remembered what Amanda had told me the last time. Running away was no answer. I had to face up to this.

A ringing phone woke me Monday morning. I was still tired from the fitful sleep that had finally overtaken me.

"Michael?" the voice asked, a voice my foggy brain identified as Terry.

"Yes? Oh, hi, Terry." Then realization hit me. "Terry! How is Lindsey doing? What is she saying? Does she want to talk to me?"

"Calm down. I�m just giving you a status report. She�s not ready to see you. Give it time."

"How is she?" I asked again.

"She�s really upset. She keeps talking about wanting to rename her cat, if that means anything to you."

I groaned.

"I have no idea what Brisco has to do with all this. She had him for a long time before she even met you."

I didn�t want to tell Terry what Brisco had to do with me.

"I have to get back to work. I just wanted you to know that things haven�t changed yet. I�ll call you later when I have more information."

"Okay. I really appreciate what you�re doing."

She hung up and the silence closed in again. I lay there in bed with a lot of time to think. I kept wishing I could go back in time and put my computer away before she had arrived. Or even that I could go back in time a few weeks and tell her who I was, before she had fallen asleep. Or that I would have had the guts to tell her that next morning. I didn�t cry, but I still wasn�t very happy with myself. I kept thinking of how my life had changed for the better when I met Lindsey. I wanted to go back to that happy place but I didn�t know how.

Eventually, I got up and got dressed. Not feeling like eating anything, I walked out to the river. I sat on the wooden planks and watched the water flowing towards me. The water made trickling sounds as it flowed around the wooden pilings. I ended up spending a few days doing not more than this. I couldn�t write in that state of mind. There was nothing in my life at that point I wanted to write about. The memories that I had hoped to make in this place now seemed impossible. I finally realized what Amanda had been talking about. I had come here to run away. Where can I run to now?

I somehow survived the rest of the week. The weekend was especially difficult because Lindsey wasn�t there. She had become such a part of my life, filling an emptiness. Now she was gone and that emptiness threatened to consume me.

Finally, early the next week, a thought came to me, something Lindsey had said to me a few times. It was harder to paddle upstream.

All this time I had been letting her do the work. I waited for her to come to me. It was time for me to make the effort. She might not want to see me now, but I hoped for a time when she would be ready to see me again. I had to be ready to make the effort.

Two hours later, I was downtown at the sporting goods store on the side of the courthouse. I explained to the owner, Mr. Martin, what I wanted and he helped me pick it out, along with the necessary accessories. I bought two paddles to go with it. Mr. Martin apologized that his deliveryman was out sick but he assured me that it would be delivered by the next afternoon. I thanked him and left.

At the traffic light, I looked ahead, down Willow Street. I knew Lindsey was there, just a few blocks away, selling her grandfather�s vegetables. I wanted to go to see her but I remembered Terry�s advice. I turned left and headed home instead.

When I got home, I felt lost. I certainly didn�t feel in the mood to write. I thought about going swimming but the pool just reminded me of the party and how it ended. I finally went out to the riverbank to my hammock. Looking at the sky, I listened to the wind in the trees and strained to hear the bump of Lindsey�s canoe against the wooden pilings. It was a sound that never came.

I got another call from Terry the next morning. Lindsey was still very angry with me and was showing no signs of wanting to ever talk to me again.

"She frowns whenever anyone mentions your name," Terry said. "Oh, and that t-shirt you gave her? The one with the book publisher�s name on it? The one she used to sleep in?"

"Yes, I remember the one," I said, confused.

"I hope it wasn�t too important to you."

"No, I guess not. Why?"

"Well, she was really pissed. She kind of, uh, burned it in her barbeque pit. Sorry. Anyway, I just wanted to suggest that you leave her alone for a few more days. Don�t try to visit her or go to the Farmer�s Market. Let her cool down, okay?"

"Sure, Terry. Thanks."

As promised, the truck from Martin�s Sporting Goods showed up right after lunch. I helped the deliveryman carry my shiny new canoe to the water. After he left, I put on my lifejacket and went for a ride. I paddled upstream towards town, looking longingly at Lindsey�s house as I passed it. There didn�t seem to be anyone home.

Amanda caught up with me that evening on Skype and we talked. She was very concerned about how I was doing. I wasn�t happy yet, but I wasn�t feeling as badly as I had been. I even chuckled when I told Amanda the story about Lindsey burning my t-shirt. We laughed together as we tried to imagine how hard it must have been to light it.

Amanda seemed really concerned about me and I commented on that.

"Michael, you�re like a brother to me. I worry about you."

"Thanks. I need someone to worry about me."

"Yes, you do," she said.

Wednesday afternoon, when Terry called, I was relieved to hear from her. I was sure the news would finally be getting better.

"How is Lindsey?" I asked hopefully, maybe even cheerily.

Terry�s tone was even, strained, serious.

"Michael, did you read The Banner yet?"

"The Banner?" I asked.

"The Banner. The paper. Did you read today�s paper yet?"

"Oh, the newspaper. No, I didn�t see it yet. Why?"

"Lindsey�s grandfather is in it."

Still not catching on, I asked, "Really? What did he do?"

"Michael� he died."

A ton of bricks crashed down upon me. The silence drew out.

"He did?" I finally asked weakly.

"Yes, yesterday. It was a heart attack."

"How is Lindsey doing?"

"How do you think? They were very close. She really needs support right now."

"I suppose she does."

"The wake is tomorrow evening and the funeral is Friday. Michael, you really need to be there for her."

"Is she ready to see me?" I asked.

"She needs you right now. It�s next to the big church on Main Street. Show up. Play it by ear but I think it will do Lindsey some good to see you there."

"Terry, I don�t do funerals," I said.

"Michael, if you want to get Lindsey back, you have to go to this funeral. She needs you."

"Michael, you need to go," Amanda said.

I had called her right after the call from Terry. I needed the support.

"It�s not that easy."

"It never is. That is why the girl needs you."

"No, you don�t understand. I haven�t been near a, a place like that since, well, since Theresa�s."

"Michael, you need to do this," she pleaded with me.

"I can�t do it. I haven�t even been to visit Theresa�s grave. I cannot face it."

"Michael, if you don�t show up, you will lose Lindsey for good. She needs you."

"I wish I could do it."

Amanda�s tone changed. It became harsher.

"Michael, don�t call me back until you go there and show your support."

Then she hung up.

I sat there, too stunned to take off the headset. I knew she was right, both of them were right. Lindsey needed me. I just couldn�t make myself do it. Not so soon after Theresa�s funeral

I read the paper, saw Lindsey�s name as one of the survivors. I tried to imagine how it must be for her. I knew what pain she must be feeling. The next afternoon, I got dressed but just sat on my bed until it was too late to go to the wake. I couldn�t make myself go. Not to that place. Then I got undressed and went to bed, feeling terrible for letting Lindsey down. I got up and got dressed on Friday morning, but I still couldn�t make myself go out to the car. I couldn�t drive to that funeral home.

In the early afternoon, I came to my senses. Even though the funeral was over, I had to go to her. I had to apologize and offer my support. She might not accept it, but I had to offer. I loved her regardless of how she felt for me. I wouldn�t blame her if she still wouldn�t speak to me. I had abandoned her when she needed me.

I drove to her house but no one was there. I had looked up the address of her parents� house and driven there, finding several cars parked in front. I nervously walked up to the door and knocked.

I extended my condolences to her family but Lindsey wasn�t there. Her mother told me that she had gone back to the cemetery. I knew what I had to do.

I was actually trembling as I turned into the narrow drive. It was a very old cemetery filled with tombs. Filled with death. I felt it closing in around me as I drove in. I had no problem spotting her grandfather�s grave. The flowers were all around it, and Lindsey was standing there all alone.

I parked my car behind hers, under a gnarled cedar tree. I sat there, trying to convince myself to get out of the car. It took four tries, but I finally did it. I got out and walked across the single lane to the gravesite where Lindsey was standing. I could see her shoulders shake as she sobbed.

"I am not leaving,"� she said evenly.

"I�m not here to make you leave. I�m just here for you," I said.

I saw her stiffen at the sound of my voice. Seeing her react that way hurt all through my very being, knowing that my presence was a pain to her, not a comfort. Still, I didn�t turn back as much as I wanted to. I knew she needed someone at that moment. I walked up alongside her, not touching her but standing next to her. We each stared ahead, not looking at each other.

"Michael, I really don�t want to see you now. When you didn�t show up at the funeral, I realized I couldn�t count on you to be there anymore."

My heart was tearing apart at her words. I knew it was now or never. Maybe it would be the end, but I had to do it.

"Lindsey, please just listen to me. When I am done, I will leave if you want me to. But first, I have to tell you something. Something about me. You deserve to know."

When she sighed heavily but didn�t say anything, I continued.

"Before I came here, I was married. She was the other half of my soul, my very being. The great love of my life. Then I lost her. To cancer."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lindsey turn to me.

"After Theresa died, I couldn�t see myself going on. I couldn�t write; I couldn�t function. It was like my life was over, too. I ran away from everything. I came to Fournton."

I took a deep breath and licked my lips.

"I came here to hide. I didn�t want to see my friends. I didn�t want people to pity me. I just felt empty and I wanted to hide."

I took in a deep, shuddering breath.

"Then I met you."

I finally turned to her, surprised to see a look of compassion on her face.

Facing her, I explained, "I wanted to hide and sulk in my pain, but you wouldn�t let me. Your friendship drew me out." I sobbed, but then I smiled as I said, "Then your love showed me. It showed me that my life was going to go on. It showed me that I could love again."

"I had no idea," she breathed.

Then she reached out and hugged me. I put my arms around her and held on to her tightly.

"I am so sorry," I sobbed.

"Me too."

"I wanted to be there for you this morning, but I couldn�t. I tried but I couldn�t bring myself to come. Until now. I wish I had been there for you. You needed me."

"But I made it pretty clear that I didn�t want to see you. I didn�t really mean that."

"I know," I told her.

"I burned your shirt."

"I heard. It was an old shirt."

She cried and I held her tighter. I let her cry. She cried for her grandfather and, for the first time, I let myself cry for Theresa.

We sat down in the grass together and talked. She told me about her grandfather and I told her about Theresa. I also told her about my life as Ken Stryker.

Two hours later, we were ready to leave.

"Can I ride with you?" she asked me gently.

"Sure."

Sitting behind the wheel, I asked her, "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere," I said.

"I want to show you his fields."

"I�d like that."

She guided me back to downtown and across the bridge. Before long, we were walking through a well-tended field. Lindsey bent down and picked up a handful of dirt, letting it sift through her fingers.

"He loved this land. He could make anything grow here."

"It shows," I said.

Lindsey showed me where the vegetables I had been enjoying had come from.

"I wish you could have met him."

"Me too."

Then she surprised me by changing the subject.

"Tell me more about Theresa?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please? Tell me everything. What was she like? What did she look like? What did she do for fun? How did you two meet?"

"Okay."

I told her about my wife. It was strange telling this woman that I loved about the love I had for Theresa. In that moment I understood that the love I had for Lindsey did not diminish the love I had for Theresa. My love had never ended. It had lived on.

"You two had a wonderful life," she observed after my tale was complete.

"Yes, we did." Then, "Thank you for showing me how to love again."

Lindsey smiled weakly as she asked, "Why were you writing about us?"

"I write about what I know. You were the only bright spot in my life. It isn�t really us. What we did just inspired it."

"I over-reacted."

"I should have told you sooner."

She stopped walking, tugging on my hand that was holding hers.

"I�ll forgive you if you forgive me." Then she thought about that and, before I could answer, she said, "No, I forgive you. No strings. Will you forgive me?"

"Of course," I smiled, looking deeply into those lovely blue eyes. Again.

"I don�t want to be alone tonight. Can I stay with you?"

"Of course," I said. "I would really like that."

"Me, too."

We stopped at her house so she could pack a bag. While she got her things together. I sat on the sofa. Brisco came and sat next to me.

"Hi, fella," I said as I scratched behind his ears.

"I tried changing his name,"� Lindsey called from the bedroom, "but he wouldn�t stand for it."

In a stage whisper, I told him, "Thanks for sticking up for me."

When we walked into my house, Lindsey breathed in and said, "It�s so good to be back here."

"I really missed you."

"I missed you, too. I didn�t want to. At least at first. I couldn�t help it after that. I missed you too much."

I squeezed her hand.

"It�s so good to be back together."

After dinner, she excused herself and went into the bathroom with her overnight bag. While I was waiting for her to change, I dug through my closet until I found what I was looking for.

When she came out and found me in the bedroom, she took my breath away. She was wearing (barely) a baby blue Baby Doll nightie that almost came to her pussy. That was clearly evident because she wasn�t wearing the panties. The top, almost transparent, gave me a view of her nipples which were rapidly hardening under my gaze.

"Hold me, Michael. Make love to me. Make me feel something other than grief."

How could I refuse a request like that? I walked to her, dropping what I was carrying on the bed, and took her in my arms. I reveled in the warm softness of her body as it pressed against me. Her nipples were poking me in the chest and my hands enjoyed sliding over her ass. I was, of course, instantly erect.

When Lindsey spoke, it was as much breathing as speaking as she commented, "I think he likes it."

"Yes, he does," I answered.

Gently taking her delicate chin in my hand, I guided her mouth upwards and pressed my lips to hers. She was opening her mouth even before our lips touched, and my tongue slipped inside to join hers. My hands became more urgent as they touched her back and bottom while meanwhile our tongues were dueling in their own erotic exploration.

It was several minutes before we broke the kiss, each of us breathing heavily at the exertion and excitement.

"You are so beautiful," I told her.

"Any woman would be beautiful wearing as little as I am," she said with a small laugh, trying to brush off the compliment.

I cupped her cheeks with my hands and pointed her face to mine.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you, my dear."

"Thank you," she told me, but I felt her trying to shyly turn her face away from mine.

She slipped free of my grasp and moved to the bed, sitting demurely on her knees as she waited for me to join her. She didn�t have to wait long. Not at all.

As I crawled to her, she noticed the puddle of yellow cotton on the edge of the bed.

"What�s that?" she asked.

I smiled and reached for it, holding it up for her to see.

"A replacement for the one that died on the barbecue."

"Oops. Sorry about that."

"I don�t mind. It wasn�t precious to me. You�re what�s precious to me."

"It was precious to me because you gave it to me. I was a real shit to destroy it like that."

"I was a real shit not to tell you who I was."

"Hey, apologies accepted on both our accounts. Now let�s do some making up, okay?"

"Yes, ma�am," I told her.

I reached for her and carefully laid her down on the bed as I crawled over her, kissing her as I did. She started pulling at my clothes. I got the message and stopped long enough to shuck what I had been wearing. My erection made its presence known as I rejoined her.

"That�s so warm,"� she observed as it pressed against her bare pussy.

"And wet," I countered.

I pushed her top up to expose her nipples, taking each in turn between my teeth and tugging on them as I intently watched her reaction. One hand strayed lower, enjoying how wet she felt. My fingers were slipping and sliding over her folds. I looked up to her eyes, seeing how she was watching me with that far away look of impending orgasm.

I pushed my middle finger into her as I softly bit down, earning a groan of pleasure. Her hand covered mine, setting the rhythm. Her index finger slid around my fingers and worked her clit as I penetrated her. When I felt her hips opposing my finger, I knew she was ready. I withdrew my finger and started to move on top of her but she stopped me. Instead, she pushed me to my back and climbed atop me.

With a hunger, she sought to impale herself on me. Her slippery tightness captured me. Once fully seated, she sat upright and pulled her nightie off as she rode. I watched fascinated as my shaft emerged wetly from her lips again and again.

Her breasts bounced slightly and she smiled a soft smile. She put her hands on my chest and leaned forward a little, allowing me to capture a nipple between my lips.

"Mmhm," she moaned in approval.

I sucked but her movements pulled the nipple from my mouth. I sucked hard as it moved away, leaving my mouth with a pop and making her moan louder. She moved upright and leaned back a little. One hand moved between her legs and attacked her clit. Her expression changed abruptly as she went over the edge.

When she had finished cumming, she leaned forward again and looked into my eyes. With much sincerity, she said, "Thank you. I needed that so much."

"You have no idea how much I enjoy watching you like that. Your face is so beautiful when you cum. The look of total bliss is so beautiful, so erotic."

She blushed a little. "I missed this so much. Being so close to you, joined to you."

"I missed it, too, Lindsey."

I felt her tighten her pussy muscles and redouble her efforts.

"I won�t last long if you keep that up," I warned.

"I don�t want you to last long. I want to make you cum now."

And she did.

Minutes later, after she had rolled to her side and we were panting in each other�s arms, she asked me how it felt.

"Warm. Wet. It felt right. You took me to the place I most wanted to be."

"Good," she told me.

She made a happy moaning sound.

"I can�t believe I�m sleeping with my favorite writer."

"I can�t believe I�m sleeping with the one I love," I answered.

We were quiet for awhile after that. Then the phone rang. I tried to ignore it but it kept ringing.

"Answer it," she urged.

I reached for it and returned to her embrace before answering.

"Hello?" I said.

It was Terry�s voice. Lindsey was still so close to me that she could hear both sides of the conversation.

"Michael? Do you have any idea where Lindsey might be? She�s missing and we�re all worried. Her car was found in the cemetery but she wasn�t there."

"Yes, she�s right here with me."

"With you? Oh, that�s great! So you worked things out?"

"Well, we were in the middle of making up. You caught us while we were catching our breaths," Lindsey said unashamedly.

"Catching your�? Oh, shit! You were, uh, I mean, sorry, I get the picture. Go back to what you were doing. I mean, talk to you tomorrow. Bye."

She hung up to the sound of Lindsey�s laughter.

"That was naughty," I told Lindsey.

"That was fun," she countered. "Do you know what I want to do now?"

"I am almost afraid to ask."

"Go skinny dipping, like we did the first time."

"Are you serious?" I asked her and she nodded vigorously. I laughed. "Why not? I think everybody in town knows by now that we�re having sex. We might as well romp around the backyard naked."

I slapped her lightly on her trim ass as I got up to grab a large fluffy towel from the master bath.

"Just one towel?" she asked with an arched eyebrow as I slid the glass door open.

"We�ll manage. We will just have to be very close when we dry off."

She cooed her agreement.

I watched her walk to the deep end of the pool. From behind, her, well, her behind was very nice to watch. Her whole body was. She was short and trim, with a terrific curve at her waist. Her brown hair hung unfettered down her back just below her shoulders. Her toned legs barely revealed her brown-haired slit which peaked at me from beneath her ass cheeks.

When she reached the edge of the pool, she stood there with her toes curling over the rounded edge and looked back at me. I had a great side view of her breasts and the rest of her profile. How could I help but be in love with someone so beautiful? I don�t mean just her body. Everything about her was beautiful. The way she interacted with people, her bubbly personality (except when she had discovered my writing) was a big part of her beauty. I considered myself exceptionally lucky to have her in my arms and in my bed.

"Well? Aren�t you coming?" she asked.

Nodding, I joined her. Standing side-by-side, she grabbed my hand and said, "On three. One. Two. Three!"

We dove in together, holding hands. The noise and shock of entering the water was a shared experience. Being late summer, the water was very warm. It felt like slipping inside Lindsey�s body�warm, wet and slippery. I felt her hand tugging and let her guide me as she swam towards the shallow end.

We broke from the water where it was waist deep and Lindsey immediately pulled me into a kiss. I held her body to mine and savored the feeling. Our lips separated and we both blinked the water away as our eyes opened. I had my arms lightly around her waist while hers were around my neck. Water cascaded down our skin and I was very conscious of her breasts flattened against my chest.

"I missed being this close to you so much," she observed.

"I was afraid I would never get to be this close to you ever again."

"I am so�"

I stopped her.

"We already did that, remember? We are officially back together. It is over."

She nodded and, with a big smile on her face, leaned in for another kiss.

When we parted, she looked sad, though.

"What�s wrong?" I asked.

"I am so happy to be back with you, but I feel guilty being so happy right after the funeral."

I looked up to the night sky studded with stars. Looking back down to her, I said, "I think your grandfather is very pleased seeing you so happy right now. From what you told me about him, he valued your happiness very much."

"Yes, he did," she said quietly. Then, "Thank you."

We played in the pool like kids, enjoying each other. We had a wonderful time with our entire world shrunken down to that swimming pool. The darkness of the night hid everything beyond the pool deck. That wasn�t a problem for me. All that mattered was right there in my arms.

Lindsey had to leave the next morning, but she wanted me to come with her to her parents� house. I drove her back to the cemetery to retrieve her car and then followed her home to feed Brisco first.

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