Insomnia

There seems to be an ongoing need for my mind to keep my body awake long after my body would rather be asleep. I know people have a tendency to suffer from insomnia as they age, and believe me, I have aged. Nonetheless, it seems unfair to suffer this ailment, if indeed it is an ailment. It certainly feels like an ailment, I usually feel pretty wiped out in the morning and have trouble getting started on the simplest of tasks. Often it is accompanied by headaches and generally feeling crappy. While I'm awake, however, I feel like I should be doing something constructive, working on a project, writing, painting, cleaning, doing laundry....something, anything but sleeping. To be honest, most of my insomnia is brought on by an innermost feeling of guilt, tortured soul of mine filled with regrets, fear of having done wrong in some aspect of my life, knowledge that I absolutely did do something wrong in my life, a wish that I had been better equipped to live my life better. I really don't want to purge myself here. It is too public, even if no one ever reads this bumbling rambling nonsense, I could never reveal my real self here. I have great difficulty revealing my real self to people I love and trust. Hmmm, trust, now that is something very rare for me. Only one person comes to mind when I think of who I truly trust with my innermost self. My oldest and closest friend, whom I consider to be my sister, is actually the only one that I can think of that I really trust with my secrets. My real sister, the one I grew up with, who shared a bedroom with me, I really don't trust. Not really. Certainly she knows a lot about me and has shared almost every aspect of my life over the decades, but I have too often felt an undercurrent of her dishonesty towards me. Ooops! I've already said too much. This is how my tricky brain works...I run off into tangents of thoughts and memories, uncontrolled, and it gets me into trouble. I focus on some long past 'wrong' I have felt either done towards me or that I've done. I am a firm Christian and know Christ as my savior and my forgiver of all transgressions, but, even though it is my duty to forgive, I find it enormously difficult. It takes me years to forgive others, after much hard work and prayer. I mean to completely and thoroughly forgive. I am quicker to accept fault in others than I am in myself and even though I REALLY try, I can't seem to forgive myself, hence the breeding ground for my insomnia is kept fertile and well plowed, as I seem capable of digging up every detail of any shortcomings I recognize in myself, turning them over and pulling them to the surface for examination and scrutiny. Then, instead of weeding these thoughts and memories out of my heart and mind, I carefully replant them and feed them, either with self loathing or some twisted need to "never forget so as to never repeat". My best medication seems to be the television, where I can mindlessly engross myself in a program that fills in the voids of my brain, or numbs those electrical impulses that keep digging up the crap that I try to keep buried. In any case, I think this will be my best prescription for tonight's malaise. With that, I will quit my rambling and turn on the boob-tube and drift off, hopefully to sleep. Even if only for an hour....

Emma Faith

Yesterday my beautiful daughter(in-law) sent an email to me with an attachment. I am still reeling from its impact. That unobtrusive little click still echos in my brain. If you're wondering what the heck could make such an impression on an old woman, I can only say....too bad for you, that I can not make this wonderful moment available to you. My amazing granddaughter, Emma, recorded a song at her greatUncle Jim's studio. The only background is a lilting riff played on piano by a family friend. At first I was sure that Noel had inadvertantly sent the wrong attachment because the recording is so amazing, clear, professional and heart-stopping. Emma's voice is like a tall glass of lemonade, full of crystal clear cubes of ice, as droplets of water slide down the sides of the glass with the sun shining through the refreshing tartness of the contents, sitting on a table filled with vases of flowers and lovely edible treats where your favorite person waits for you to join them....all of that and more! She possesses an ethereal quality in her voice that resonates of angels, every now and then a sweetness, grounded in reality, that sweeps you away into the lyrics and brings tears to the eyes and a lump in the throat to imagine that this is the voice of someone you know...someone in your very own gene-pool! This girl is only just beginning to dip her toe into adulthood. I have no doubt of her parent's ability to protect her from harm while encouraging her to expand and experience all that life has to offer her as she zooms ahead of 'the crowd' and follows her star. She is a star. She shines as brightly as any sparkling light that God ever created. I can't wait to see what comes next for her. It's just a little bit sad that I am so surprised by her talent. It is a statement of my absence in her life, that I didn't know this greatness in her. I have always known she is beautiful, loving, kind, sweet, artistic, independent, intelligent....the list is endless. But to not know she possessed such a singing talent is heartbreaking. Was heartbreaking....I am no longer oblivious to her "hidden" ablility. Several years ago, during a family reunion at my brother's ranch in San Gregorio, California, she sang with her cousin for a 'talent show' the kids produced for all to enjoy. They stood aloft, on a platform near the ceiling of the barn, singing some popular tune they both knew. Their voices blended beautifully and giggles spiked their performance. I couldn't tell which voice belonged to which girl. We enjoyed it, I remember thinking they had really good voices, but the realization of their talent never really hit me. Part of the reason, I'm sure, were the distractions of the other kids, being with the family all together again after many years of distance and busy lives that had kept from oneanother's company, the novelty of having the kids band together to put on such a performance...many reasons. But when I look back now, I can recall how surprised I was by their ability to sing a'capella and stay on key. Even when Noel told me that Emma had been chosen to sing at her classes graduation from Junior High School to High School, I think I kind of dismissed it as her having the kind of talent that merely exceeds that of her classmates, maybe also an element of her willingness to perform. BOY WAS I WRONG ABOUT THAT!!! I suppose by now you've grown quite weary of my crowing about my granddaughter. Just as any of us, soon enough, grow weary of another's endless stack of photographs and bragging about grandkids, I'm sure you've heard just about enough. Keep in mind, however, that someday, probably soon, if you're really lucky, you will be hearing this gem on the radio or be seeing her on television, or on stage. Emma Faith Scofield....a star is in the wings!

Rambling on and on about nothing...

Just spent a few minutes re-reading my blog comments from you readers (NOEL!) and it refreshes my soul to know you love me. I'm still slogging through the ceiling problems with our little beach condo #305. I am astounded at how long people can drag something so simple out over time. The insurance company doesn't know what the adjuster report says, the adjuster has gone on vacation without having contacted the insurance company (or me), the board of directors on the HOA condo board consists of two guys that have been doing it for years on end...and I can't seem to get anything I've requested from them, like a current financial report, when the meetings are, who is currently listed on the membership rolls, why they haven't complied with the bylaws regarding maintenance of the property, etc, etc. I guess I should just fix the damn ceiling and hire a lawyer! Whew!, that was cleansing... Sometimes its hard to not get caught up in a spiral of distress and anger over things I have no control over. The famous words (from 'Scarlet O'Hara' after surveying the damage to her estate) "Fiddley Dee, tomorrow's another day..." or something like that, are echoing in my mind. It has been many years since I've seen the film, so long in fact I am wracking my brain trying to remember the title. Oh well, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about and I am also quite sure you will comment on this lame blog to remind me. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Actually I do, but that line also sprang to mind and I can sure see the smirk on old Bret's face as he delivered it. I suppose I'll have to go to Netflix and try to find it so I can watch it again. I'm sure if I ask Tom he'll know what I'm trying to remember. I feel as though if I just keep rambling on enough it will break through the fog of my addled brain and I will be able to recall it all on my own. . . . . Nope, all that is coming to mind is "Wuthering Heights", that's not it! I guess I'd better drop it. This is such a perfect example of what happens to my brain at such inopportune times, a forgotten name, place....wait, what was I just saying? Must be early onset dementia. Sometimes I wonder if I'll get to see my beautiful granddaughters reach full adulthood, if I'll get to see my great-granddaughter celebrate her twentieth birthday. I wonder if I'll ever be able to see my grandsons graduate from college or even high school. All of these dreams of the future are really only twenty years away, or less. That will make me 83? Or so. My own grandmother on my dad's side lived to be 87. Clara, she might have even lived longer had she not tripped over the dog that was lying on the step. She fell nearly a full flight, tumbling to the bottom and ending with a broken hip. Pneumonia developed during her hospitalization and eventually was her end. She was still living independantly above the garage at my Auntie Getha's. That old dog, Pal, was the culprit, sound asleep (probably due to her being deaf) in the stairwell, near the top step. That was on the Bell side of the family. On the Bernal side, nearly all of my ancestors were already dead before I was even born. Those guy lived fast and furiously, to hear my dad tell. During my teen years, if I slept in he would wake me with a loud "Dancey dancey, get up. You're like a Bernal, play all night and sleep all day". I don't even remember ever "playing all night" until long after I had moved out of my parent's home. There were a few years where I'm sure, if indeed the Bernals were great partiers, my Spanish forefathers were quite proud of my behavior. But that is another blog altogether. I guess I'm done.

I've just been poking around in my blogger account and found all of the comments my readers have made over the years. Huh, I never knew. Thank you all for your interest. I hope I haven't disappointed you too greatly for my months of silence. We were back at the beach condos today getting #306 ready for a guest expected on the 26th. Still no work being done on poor little #305! We're waiting to hear from the insurance guy. Things seem to move so slowly when I'm trying to get something done around here. I'm beginning to think all of these condominium complexes are run by a bunch of crooks. We have had two experiences buying condos down here and both times we've run in to these big jerks that are kind of self appointed KINGs of the HOA and they pretty much do whatever they want. Whenever someone questions them, they shout and tell you to do away. Since I am retired, I have nothing better to do than just keep shaking their cages and watching them stomp and holler before giving it another shake. It's my entertainment these days. Not that anything is being accomplished by it all....I am still frustrated by the lack of forward motion in getting improvements and needed changes. BUT, they are painting the building and stairwell which are a couple of things on the top of my list. Tonight I fixed a beautiful piece of halibut that Tom brought home from his trip to Alaska. Pretty simple actually, I sprinkled the filets with a season mixture I had made while Eileen was here, (fresh lime zest, finely chopped fresh cilantro, Hawaiian salt, chili powder and garlic powder) and patted the fish with sliced almonds then plopped it down into the electric skillet that I had melted butter and a drizzle of olive oil in. Lid on, 4 to 5 minutes per side...only 9 minutes total, onto warm plates and a spoonful of rice-a-roni (the San Francisco treat!) on the side and dinner was ready! So incredible! The meat of the fish was wonderfully white and firm and perfectly cooked. I ate all of mine...and yes, Tom ate all of his. I've been scoping out the roadsides while I drive around hoping to find a nice unattended banana palm to steal a leaf from. I've been wanting to bake some of the halibut wrapped in banana leaves, maybe season with a little soy sauce, ginger and brown sugar teriyaki style and have it with some nice steamed rice and sweet coleslaw with apple and carrot. Sheesh, I'm still full from dinner yet sitting here salivating at the thought of more of that gorgeous North Pacific treasure. Spoiled little piggy...that's me! OK...enough rambling. I will try to be more dedicated to writing, even if it has no real meaning to the rest of the world. Email me if you read this, please. I'm curious to know if I've lost the few who once read my babblings.

I have never been one to use earphones/headphones but having recently come across a set that were included with my old laptop, I decided to leave them in an accessible place and today actually plugged them in and now I am typing to the lilting harmonies of beautiful Hawaiian music, courtesy of Pandora Radio. What a wonderful world! I've been swept away to those soft sands, shaded by palms and gently lapped by aquamarine clear waters. Memories of canoe races and healthy tanned bodies that we once all lived in, never once dreaming we too would be aged and stiff. Ah, Kailua beach! Auntie Margret and Uncle Don, their lovely home on Wanaao Rd. where Pua and Ronnie now live. Ardie, now dead from cancer (long time) taught me how to make a haku lei which I wore on a white Panama hat for decades. Nane'a now cooking for real, talented and capable. Kaipo, who I still hold in high esteem for her breathtakingly beautiful hula, now works for the Hawaiian people helping them to re-establish their lands that the haoles greedily took during their years of occupation. And the gift of the Hawaiian plate lunch...teriyaki, white rice and macaroni salad...so ONO! Mahalo for your influence on my family with the concept of ohana and aloha. All the world could take a great lesson from the Hawaiian spirit, where men are fearless warriors, women are graceful and sexy and the keikis (kids) run free and happy. Yes, there are much deeper aspects of their culture, but every individual seems to also be blessed with these fine features, inner happiness, confidence, love and appreciation of family and honor for the aged. I am happy to think that when Roxie and Kay lived in Hawaii so many decades ago with Kay Jr. and Roxannie down the road from Don and Margret with Kaipo, Michael, Pua and Terry they had some idea of how these two families would be forever intertwined. Jim, myself and Eric were yet to born during those years, although Roxie and Margret were pregnant with we two Virgos, born within five days of oneanother. Even today, when generations later (Baili, Ben and Kaylanne) spent time in those sacred islands, their influence is deeper than just the call of the water, sun and scents that permiate the air. These young also feel their connection, deep within them, that longs for the island lifestyle. Those four friends, Kay and Don, Roxie and Margret, really started something......I wonder if they had any idea.

Natalie

"Hey Christian, Juju just called and isn't going to make it. Any chance you can come by and mow for me?" Natalie's voice was a little tense and she could feel the tightness in her throat. She was so sick and tired of disappointment and kissing ass. " Someday," she told herself, " I'm just going to drive away and not tell anyone where I'm going. I'll just disappear."
"Sure", came the easy reply. Christian was always amused by Natalie's 'to the point' telephone calls. He had known her long enough and well enough to be able to read between the missing words. Jewels was Natalie's granddaughter and he had grown up with her since before either of them had even started school. Natalie was like another gramma to Christian and even though he had held a secret crush on Jewels since they were young teens, he thought more of her as a sister. Juju was spoiled and selfish and Natalie adored her. Mowing Natalie's yard was a token gesture towards earning the $200 that Jewels would get for riding the little tractor around the four acres closest to the house in her bikini and sunglasses. Even when she did show up, she usually called Christian to help her out in some way and flirted with him shamelessly. He couldn't help wanting her and wishing that she'd take him seriously, just once.
For years he had been enduring the teasing and ribbing from his sister and her husband about Juju. "Why don't you just kiss her, Christian? When are you going to tell her how your feel?" Even after he had given up the notion of Jewels as his, and had taken a girlfriend, he found himself at her beckon and call. Mowing the grass would be a mindless task, but he would be happy to do it for the old lady. Who knows? Maybe Jewels would show up anyway and they could take a swim together or ride the horses.
Natalie hung up the phone and grabbed the cotton horse blanket that had been slung over the back of a chair as she headed towards the front deck, a steaming mug of coffee in her other hand. She carelessly tossed the vividly colored fabric that she had picked up during a visit to Santa Fe over one of the peeling and worn Adirondack chairs as she settled comfortably to enjoy her second
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cup of Joe. The sun was still low in the sky and a trace of pink and
lavender sliced across the horizon, reflected in the pond before her. The colors immediately calmed her spirit. "How could I even consider leaving this chunk of paradise?" she asked herself out loud. Seemingly in answer, the two farm dogs hopped up on the deck and settled themselves at her feet, the chocolate lab, meeting her gaze with his yellow eyes, dropped his muzzle into her lap. "Get outta here you mutt" she muttered affectionately as she rubbed the top of his head. A slight breeze was blowing down the length of the driveway, sending the leaves of the maple trees, that created a tunnel of green, into a shimmering whisper and caused ripples to dance across the mirrored surface of the great pond. It amused Natalie that so many referred to the pond as a lake. Once, long ago, a realtor had shown her a place in Florida where he pointed to a rather large mud puddle and said, "This is only one of two ponds on the property". What a joke that place had been. The 'modern farm house' had been a double wide trailer with black mold creeping down the walls of the living room. She and Todd had beat the flames off their backs getting away from the place and laughed uproariously as they drove away down the dirt road, leaving a rooster tail of dust behind them. The memory brought a smirk to her lips as she thought about the search to find this place.
And now Todd, her faithful and loving husband of twenty years, the guy she put up the fences with, argued with about laying new marble tiles in the guest bath, the guy who put up with her constant projects, was gone. She looked wistfully at the empty chair next to her, the paint peeling and sun bleached. He had been her constant companion, her friend and partner. Together they had created this wonderful estate, It was both her blessing and her anchor. That is what Todd had been, too. Her blessing and her anchor, keeping her from drifting. In her youth, Natalie had been a gypsy. She had lived throughout the western states and Hawaii, waiting tables and moving nearly every six months or so. Even when she kept the same job for a few years, she moved from one house to another. Shortly after she had married Todd, they bought the big old farm in southern Mississippi. They had been on the move then. He had sold his home in the San Francisco Bay Area and bought her a travel trailer, hooked it up to the back of their pickup truck and hit the road. They
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roamed the states together, looking at real estate and wondering where God would take them. After over three months they came across the place they finally bought.
The neighbor had been sure they were on the run from the law or drug lords, having heard they paid cash for the place. That first morning of their arrival with the furniture still in the rented moving van, having only dragged the mattress out to sleep on, the neighbor had come pounding on the door with the local sheriff in tow. He just knew he was going to be the hero and get these new comers busted. As it turned out, Billy Ray, the sheriff, became good friends with Todd and Natalie. The neighbor, not so much. Disappointed that his plan flopped, he was left to create the stories that sounded so great told down at the barber shop or over coffee at the local cafe to the idle of Clarke County's elder gentlemen. These outsiders made for good gossip, even if he did have to make the stories up himself.
Natalie sighed as she recalled the years of hard work they had put in together. The distant ring of the phone called her back from her musings. She sipped her coffee, now quite tepid, and chose to ignore the ringing. It was probably friends seeing if they could do anything to help, or someone from church seeing if she was going to be home. It was a long drive from town to the sanctity of their place and few made the trip without knowing first if anyone would be there. Natalie had a freezer full of casseroles and pies and she just couldn't face another well meaning visitor, with their earnest faces looking to see if she was going crumble. Her eyes stung at the thought, but she had yet to really cry. Usually she was a baby and bawled at the drop of a hat. Hell, she even cried at Disney movies. Lately, though, it was as if she had just dried up. She had loved Todd, dearly. For some reason she didn't miss him, she still didn't even feel like he was gone. For most of the last few years they hadn't even talked much, their company silent and comfortable. Meals and even drives into town were frequently silent, not tense or the result of holding back conversation out of anger or annoyance, it was just they had nothing else to say. Being in each others company constantly had erased the need for verbal communication. It seemed silly to talk about what they had both seen or heard and Natalie had learned to keep her thoughts to herself, over the years. It had been a slow disintegration or erosion of her self that had caused her silence. As her youth had
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slipped away with each passing year, so had her sense of identity.

In some ways, being sixty was a relief. She no longer felt compelled to be the energetic bombshell. Her figure and looks had settled into a grandmotherly visage. Graying hair, wrinkled face and sagging boobs had greeted her in the mirror for enough time that she hardly remembered the wild haired vixen that tormented men's souls she had been just a few decades ago.
When Todd had met Natalie, they were both already in their late thirties. Todd's first born son was going to get married and wanted the families to meet. Todd and his wife Gloria sat in the little apartment where Todd Jr. and his pregnant girlfriend had set up housekeeping waiting for the "mother of the bride" when Natalie walked through the door. An initial attraction to Todd was quickly suppressed and Gloria and Natalie soon became fast friends, sharing their roles as first time grandmothers. The new marriage didn't last long after the arrival of Jewels and Natalie’s daughter, gypsy blood coursing through her veins also, took to the road. Soon the two grandmothers were sharing a lot of the childcare between them. When Gloria and Todd announced that Gloria had cancer, she was already coming down the home stretch with the lousy disease. Visits increased and Natalie and Gloria often sneaked into the kitchen for a forbidden cigarette together while Todd played with the toddler Jewels in the living room. Natalie's own father had been battling cancer for years and she knew that if Gloria wanted a smoke, what the hell, it didn't really make much difference at this point. After Gloria’s funeral, little Juju went to live with Natalie full time and Todd frequently came to pick her up for a visit or outing. She was, after all, his little princess, the daughter he had always longed for. Within a year Todd proposed to Natalie, suggesting that they become a regular family. Natalie and Jewels had been living in a little house on the banks of the Russian River just a few miles from the Pacific Ocean, very different from the cookie-cutter tract home that Todd and Gloria had bought together to raise their sons on the eastern shores of the San Francisco Bay.
Natalie had been divorced for over fifteen years and enjoyed her independence, but also was acutely aware of her inadequate preparations for the future. Todd promised security and fidelity in
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exchange for her freedom. He had kept his end of the bargain and even relented on several occasions to let her stretch her wings a little with girlfriends for a few weekend getaways. Now she would have all of the freedom she wanted and she wasn't quite sure if it was too late, or not.
Natalie's daydreaming was again disturbed by the ringing of the telephone. She took a final swig of her now cold coffee, tossed the last half inch of dregs into the overgrown flowers that surrounded the deck and rose from the blanket wrapped chair. "Hello," Natalie was pleasantly surprised to hear her sister's voice as she grabbed the phone on the fourth ring. "Hey Nat. How're you doing? Are you ready for a couple of days in Mobile?" "Get to the point", Natalie thought, amused at Frankie's ready solution to the blues. A trip to Mobile meant room service, Skye Vodka Cosmos and probably an hour massage afterwards. "Hell yeah!" intoned Natalie, "When are you coming?" Within a few short comments, the plan was in motion and Natalie hung up the phone. Frankie would be arriving at the Meridian airport that evening, they would return to the ranch for the night and then drive the scenic ninety minutes down to the city together. "I better put some clean sheets on the guest bed for the Queen", Natalie mumbled to herself. She loved her sister more than any other human on the planet. Frankie had been a silent bone of contention with Nat and Todd over the years. She was the one person that had always inspired a wave of jealousy in Todd. He knew there was a deep and special bond between the sisters, but had never quite understood it. It had always made him feel like an intruder when she visited, even though both women were very sensitive to the dynamic and tried to include him in their time together. Visits had been timed carefully so as not to stir up unneeded angst between the couple. The price had been a slow and subtle chasm created in Natalie's feelings for Todd. She hadn't been aware of its sly development until it had already deepened and set itself like concrete, brittle and gray, deadening the once passionate relationship into its ultimate flatness. She and Frankie had spent endless hours discussing it. Natalie had berated herself for not talking to Todd about it honestly. She only had herself to blame for all those years of a lifeless relationship.
Natalie busied herself preparing the bedroom for Francine’s arrival,
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fluffing the pillows and pushing back the creamy silk drapes to allow the view of the courtyard outside to spill into the room. She could hear the deep throated rumble as the mower sprang to life and smiled as she watched Christian ride by, baseball cap pulled deep down over his eyes, muscular and tanned from the countless days spent mowing yards shirtless. Next year Christian would be graduating from college and had earned his way through doing yard work for friends and relatives. Natalie could vividly recall him as a little shy boy, hiding behind his momma’s skirt when she and Jewels saw them at the country church each Sunday. They were separated in age by less than a year, Jewels the elder of the two. Both were blonde, Christian had brown eyes with thick black lashes, Jewels’ almond shaped eyes a bright blue. Other than that, their coloring was almost identical, they even looked alike around the mouth and nose. Until they had graduated high school, Jewels had always been a little taller than Christian. Now he had reached his physical maturity and towered over her by more than six inches. Natalie waved at him through the window of the bedroom and pantomimed him to the front deck. “I’m going to go to Mobile for a couple of days, will you house sit for me?” she hollered. Christian shut down the mower, “Huh? What did you say?”
“Frankie called and I’m going to Mobile with her for a few days. Do you want to house sit for me? I’ll be leaving tomorrow but I’m not sure for how long. Probably just a couple of days.” Natalie checked off the level of dog food in her mind and whether there was anything out of the ordinary she should mention. “No problem, Miss Nat. Will you feed the boys before you leave or do you want me to?” Christian often watched the place and knew all of the routines. It was comforting to know her place was secure and in good hands. He had never used the place for parties, although occasionally had pals drop by for a swim or game of pool, but always left everything in good order. “No, I’ll feed them before we leave, but could you make sure the horses stay out of the back pasture for me? I’m hoping you can get in there in a few weeks and cut hay.” “Yeah, I planned on it. OK, well, I’d better get back to it.” and with that he started the mower and was off like a shot.
Natalie went back into the house to putter and pack. Frankie would be there around dinner time so no need to cook, they could stop and
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eat before driving home. She decided to toss her swim suit into the
overnight bag at the last minute and debated over whether or not to pack her little cosmetic case with the eyeliner and blush and not much else. It had been years since she had taken the time to really ‘put on her face’ and usually just rubbed a little anti-aging serum into her skin after scrubbing with a bar of soap and water. Knowing her sister would mention her stubble, Natalie decided to take the time to draw a bath and shave her legs. “Might as well start the pampering now,” she mused. After stepping out of the tub and wrapping herself in the big white terry robe, she straddled the floor register and let the blast of cool air from the air conditioner dry her legs while she rubbed her graying hair with a thick towel. On a whim she dropped her robe and towel and slathered every inch of her skin with a rich moisturizer she had only used once. It was scented with ‘5th Avenue’, her favored perfume that she wore nearly every day during the summer. She also loved ‘Opium’ but more for the cooler months. Something about it just made her think of Fall colors and roaring fires enjoyed with steaming mugs of hot cocoa. The lotion had been a Christmas present from Todd over two years ago. A sharp lump suddenly lodged itself in Natalie’s throat and hot tears stung her eyes. She let go of a goofy laugh, catching her reflection in the steamy mirror over the sink. Her lower lip trembled and she thought about how detached she felt from her emotions, a little surprised by her own outburst, brought on by the memory of Todd. It had been close to Christmas, years ago, they were driving home from Waynesboro, about twenty miles from the ranch and passing the local Wal-Mart. “If I give you the money, will you buy yourself some cocaine?” Todd had blurted out. Natalie could remember the shock and confusion she felt that must have registered on her face as she whipped her head around to look at Todd. “Isn’t that what that stuff is called, that you like? Your perfume?” he stuttered. Natalie had dissolved into laughter, “I couldn’t believe what you were saying…no it’s Opium. You’re too funny, honey.” She had plenty but knew it was hard for him to think of anything to buy her. Without realizing it, she had hurt him once by returning his gift for something else, being practical and not wanting to just keep something because it had come in a pretty box. It was completely unintentional but stung him nonetheless. He had brought it up during a rather heated discussion Natalie had started by
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complaining that he never bought her presents anymore. “I’d love a bottle, thanks love.” she had responded. “What a ball buster I was to that man, poor guy.” Natalie looked at herself in the mirror, a dark frown shadowed her face. “I’m sorry Todd” she said out loud. She glanced at the clock, loudly ticking on the wall next to the mirror. “Shit!” where had the time gone? Forgetting all about her plan to beautify herself, Natalie quickly combed her short hair with her fingertips and brushed her teeth before turning off the light and leaving the master bath. Crossing over to the antique dresser, she pulled out a pair of sensible cotton “granny panties” and bra, dug around for a clean pair of blue jeans and grabbed her favorite denim shirt from the bed post where she had thrown it earlier. Giving the shirt a sniff, she shook it out and put it on over her fresh clean body, rummaged her diamond studs out of the little bowl on top of the dresser and headed for the door as she poked the sparkling earrings into her lobes.
The drive to Meridian was uneventful and easy, the heavy Suburban sailed along the highway. Natalie would have preferred to drive her little white Mercedes and take the winding back roads, but Frankie hated that car and besides, who knew how much luggage she’d have with her? Easily pulling into one of the many available parking places, Nat was grateful for the small local airport that connected her to the outside world. By the time she entered the building, the plane load of passengers was already disembarking. Frankie waved and skirted the other passengers to join her sister. “I only brought this,” she gestured to her little carryon bag “so we can dig on out of here. I’m starved, where do you want to eat?” A simple enough question, but one that always stumped Natalie. There were so few great places to eat…plenty of mediocre ones. “Do you feel like some Thai?”
“Always. I love that place” Frankie knew the Faraway Places like it was an old friend. It was the only place that Nat liked in the whole town of Meridian. Nat grabbed Frankie’s bag and the two walked out to the parking lot.
“How was your flight?” Nat asked as she started the engine.
“I met this great guy during my layover in Atlanta. He might meet up with us in Mobile. He said he was going to be down there looking at some tug boats or something. Anyway, I wasn’t even sure which
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hotel we were going to be at, but I told him probably the Renaissance Inn downtown.”
The food was spicy and delicious, the dim light of the restaurant hiding it’s dingy interior. The owner, Lisa, stopped by the table to chat with them while delivering a couple of icy beers. “You’re not having the curry this time?” she asked amiably. It could be months between visits, but somehow this exotic woman would remember what they had eaten the last time they were there. “No, it’s wonderful but we felt like having your special Pad Thai this time,” Frankie responded. “Oh Kay, but you girls better have some ‘sex on the beach’ hey?” she laughed as she walked away. Lisa always recommended the drinks with the racy names and got a kick out of herself by doing so. The sisters smiled after her. “Maybe,” they called in unison, knowing they wouldn’t. It was a long drive back to the ranch in southeastern Clarke County and the roads were dark by the time they headed home, bellies full and a little giddy from the food, drink and laughs.
The crunch of the wheels on the gravel road greeted them as they pulled through the front gate. Moonlight sparkled on the pond as they drove by, heading toward the house. “This place always feels like home,” Frankie mumbled. She had come every year, spring and fall, to visit her sister and brother-in-law, since they had bought the rambling property. She knew every change they had made to it over the years, noticed the rearrangement of furniture slowly settle down as her sister’s gypsy spirit settled along with it. Now it was homey and familiar, a place filled with Nat’s collection of antiques and family pictures. Funny how her sister could combine primitives with opulent fabrics and have it work so well together. As they came into the downstairs great room, off of the garage, the earthy smell of leather from the racks of saddles and greeted Frankie’s nose. Her sister had inherited their grandfather’s touch with horses and had bred and trained all of the great beasts that lived on the ranch. Frankie had been there the day E.B. had been born, the tall sorrel with the snowy blaze and four white sox. Every morning, during her visit that year, she took her coffee to the paddock and sat in one of the two plastic chairs alongside her sister, the mare and her newborn. The spindly legs of the colt carried him to her where he nuzzled her and explored her hair, curious about these two “Aunties“. She had held his face in
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her hands while blowing into his nostrils, rubbing his neck and back and murmured into his ears. Frankie had named him E.B. for Easter Boy since he was born only two days before Easter Sunday and the moniker had stuck. By the time she departed that year, he was trying to sit in her lap and she could easily slip the little halter onto his small head. Of all the horses, he had become her favorite.
“What time do you want to get up?” Natalie asked as she flipped on the light in Frankie’s room. “Early. I’d like to take a swim before coffee. I’m still trying to get these last two pounds off.” Frankie was already digging her toothbrush out of her bag.
Morning came with a fast moving thunderstorm, followed by a burst of bright sunshine. Even though the big yellow rooster had announced the sunrise, neither sister had heard him. They were sipping their coffee poolside, wrapped in their thick white robes, swimsuits dripping from the back of the two unoccupied chairs next to them, when Juju arrived. “What are you two up to?” she greeted them with a dazzling smile. “Are you naked? What a pair! I can’t trust you alone for a moment.” she joked. “Any more coffee?” she asked as she greeted her aunt with a hearty kiss.
As Jewels headed for the French doors leading into the kitchen, the two older women followed her into the house. “We’re headed to Mobile for a couple of days. Want to join us?” Frankie offered.
“Nah, if you’re just going to get drunk and spend all of your time in some spa I think I’ll hang out here and maybe ride. It looks like everyone of those hay burners is fat and getting lazy. The place looks great. Has Christian been by?”
“Yes, he mowed for you, again.” Natalie’s voice had a brittle edge to it, unnoticed by Jewels. She was used to her grandmother’s thinly veiled disapproval. “Feed the mutts for me, will you? We want to get going before the next wave of this storm passes through.” Natalie added.
“No problem-o” Juju offered as she snatched a piece of melon from the platter of fresh fruit sitting on the kitchen island.
“Are planning on staying until we get back?” Natalie asked her slim and beautiful granddaughter. She had spent years driving Jewels back and forth to Alabama, three times a week, for her ballet lessons and the training still reflected in the posture of the young woman.
“Mmm hmm. I didn’t know Auntie was here and I sure need me some
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Frankie love.” she smiled as she gave her aunt a tight squeeze.
“Sure you won’t join us?” Frankie loved her great-niece like she was her own daughter and enjoyed her company.
“I’m sure. Have a Cosmo for me and I’ll be here when you get back. Is it OK if Katie comes down and stays with me?” Katie and Jewels had been best friends since being in the Girl Scouts together during grammar school. The two were as tight as real sisters. Natalie understood the relationship well, even if she often found the two girls troublesome. What one didn’t think of the other did. Kind of like her and Frankie, in their youth. She had to smile a little at the thought.
“Always. Just don’t tear the place up. She’ll have to share your room of course. There’s tilapia in the freezer and plenty to eat in the ‘fridge. Christian should be by and maybe he’ll feel like riding with you.” Natalie was drifting off to her room to shower and dress, Frankie was already emerging from her own bathroom with her little cosmetic case, wearing only her panties and bra.
“Come on, Nat. Let’s get a move on.” she hollered to her sister.
Within minutes they were scooting down the canopied driveway in the little 450SL, top down and trunk loaded. Frankie didn’t really hate the car, she just preferred the safety of the bigger Suburban. Still, with the wind in their hair, it felt good to sit back and let her sister maneuver the country roads while she fiddled with the radio.
“Here, put this in.” Nat handed her a CD and soon the sultry voice of Annie Lennox floated along with them. Knowing they’d have plenty of time for visiting and conversation later, the two rode along in silence, occasionally singing with the familiar tunes. In less than two hours they were pulling up in front of the luxurious Marriott Renaissance Inn. The car was whisked away by the valet and they entered the cool lobby, their bags hanging on their shoulders as they approached the registration desk. “Good morning. Do you have reservations?” the young girl in the navy jacket and white blouse inquired. Natalie handed her a credit card marked ‘Marriott Rewards’ across the top and smiled. “No, but we’d like one of the corner suites overlooking the harbor side.” As she took the card without looking up, the receptionist began clicking away on her computer terminal. Within minutes the women were tossing their light luggage onto their beds and pulling back drapes. “Ahh.” Frankie exhaled as she opened the sliding glass door onto the rooftop veranda, letting the
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warm breeze enter the cool room. “I just love this town. Do you want to walk around a bit or should we just chill?”
“I’m ready to stretch my legs a little.” Natalie answered. “Let’s stroll over to the art museum and see what’s new.” Frankie clicked on the TV with the remote and tossed it on the bed. She had always liked to leave the television on while out of the room, feeling like it would deter intruders. Nat thought it comforting to have it on and didn’t say a word, knowing that it wasn’t the plan to watch it.
“OK, we can pick up the makings for our Cosmos while we’re out.” Frankie was already thinking about the cool sweet drinks and sitting out on the windswept patio for sunset, a favored ritual.
“We don’t have to go right now, if you want to open that bottle of wine we brought and cop a buzz” Natalie suggested. It was only 10 a.m. but the idea of getting a little drunk sounded good.
“Yeah, let’s start there,” Frankie agreed.
By noon the two were ready for some lunch and headed for the elevators. Once on the street, they turned toward downtown and walked the long blocks to a busy sidewalk café where they found a table under the shade of a tree and ordered sandwiches.
…..meanwhile, back at the ranch…
Christian’s heart took a little leap when he saw Juju’s dusty Blazer in the driveway next to the house. Even though he still refused to admit it to himself, he always got a little rush when he knew she was around. Now he hoped she’d be at there and not have gone out of town with Natalie and Frankie. He grabbed his black gym bag that contained his few needs from the seat beside him and sauntered to the front steps. The two dogs greeted him as he approached the deck and he caught Juju’s shape through the windows as he reached the door. She pulled it from his hand as he started to turn the knob and threw her arms around his neck, lifting her feet. He dropped his bag and staggered backwards for a couple of steps, closing his muscular arms around her. “I was hoping you’d come!” she smiled into his face.
“Your gramma asked me to watch the place. You staying while she’s gone?” his voice took on a husky tone and color shot up his neck. She was clad in a string bikini and the feel of her skin against his shirtless chest caught him off guard. Juju clamped her bare legs around his waist and refused to let go of his neck, knowing the
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reaction she was causing.
“Yup, you should stay too. It’ll be like old times. We can stay up and watch movies and eat gummy bears together.” reminding Christian of the many times he had spent the night when they were kids and the only companions for miles. Being raised in the rural back roads with no neighbors, the two had developed a special bond. Christian reached up and separated Juju’s hands from behind his neck, easily supporting her weight with his strength and tried to free himself from the flirtatious grip of Juju’s legs.
“I’m not letting go until you say you’re staying.” she taunted.
“I’m staying. Now get down” Christian begged. Juju slowly slid down, feeling Christian’s unruly erection through his thin shorts. She was caught between her own amusement and the wave of long denied attraction she had felt for him. A force that overwhelmed them both so suddenly and completely, compelled them in an embrace each had imagined but never acted upon. For the first time they kissed, entwined in each others grasp, feverish and searching. Christian’s heart exploded in desire, his body responding with an intensity he had never imagined. For years he had held back, refusing to jeopardize the deep friendship on the chance of a ruined romance. Now he could not stop the flood of passion as it rose in his body. His mouth consumed hers, together they fed each other their love for one another, deeper than either had ever known, richer than ever imagined. Dizziness was accompanied by a wave of heat, generated by the other’s body, molten and flaming through them both, welding them together in a union of their very souls. Gasping and pawing, Christian carried Juju through the door of her grandmother’s house and slammed her against the wall of the entryway. The pain shot through her like a bolt of lightening, increasing her savage hunger for him. She couldn’t stop herself. All of the years she had teased him, flaunting her body and sexuality in front of him had been to her amusement, she thought. Now she had opened the floodgates of her own unconfessed desire for him. Secretly she had watched him, fantasized about feeling his strong arms holding her and lifting her as he plunged into her. This was more than she could have envisioned, more than she had felt she was capable of experiencing. The total surrender and trust she suffered swept her into his complete control. She wanted him to
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ravage her, take her from herself into himself, join with him into a single entity. Christian’s fervor rose to an ache he had never before realized. With every ounce of his being he separated himself from Jewels. Panting and stupid, he held her a arms length.
“What the hell!” was all he could say. “Jesus, Jewels, what are we doing? I can’t, I just can’t. What if… what if you…I can’t” and he turned away from her, head splitting with pain and tears rushing to his eyes. Just as quickly as the passion had flared, the genuine love she had always felt spilled out of Juju as she found herself comforting her friend, her secret crush once again suppressed. She pressed her forehead to his and said, “I’m sorry Christian. I don’t know where that came from. Don’t be mad. Don’t hate me, please, I couldn’t take that. I love you, I do. I always have. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Look at me. I promise, I won’t push you into something we might both regret. Don’t pull away from me.”
Christian raised his eyes to meet hers. “It’s not you, Juje. Just give me a minute. Don’t touch me. I think I’m going to barf.” And he pushed her back from himself. She reached out and grabbed his hand.
“I know what’ll help” and she pulled in forward and through the house to the French doors leading to the pool. Without restraint she tugged him in after her as she leapt into the cooling water. The shock rinsed the preceding minutes from both of them.
“Holy crap! It’s cold!” Christian gasped as he broke the surface in a fountain of droplets. They both burst into laughter, releasing the pent up emotions of their embrace, and divergence.
“Where the hell did all of that come from?” Jewels laughed as she splashed a great wall of water into Christian’s face. Both were unable and unwilling to acknowledge their participation in their actions. It was better, more comfortable and familiar, to ignore it and pretend that it hadn’t happened. They looked upon the incident as a team, mutual foes of the monster that had overtaken them in one swift and unexpected moment of truth.
“Hey!” Katie called out as she approached the two swimmers. She waved a six pack of Samuel Adams above her head. “Anyone want a beer?” Jewels and Christian, relieved at her presence swam to the edge of the pool.
“Is it OK that I brought my little sis along? I figured we could just
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bunk on the futons together” Audrey’s flaming red head and lovely face peeked around the corner of the brick wall. “Surprise!” she squealed. Once again Christian was surrounded by the three beautiful young sprites. He was so accustomed to their presence that he seldom saw them for their unbridled beauty, mostly seeing them as silly and full of mischief. His buddies, not girls, just lifelong friends that he had gone to school with, sat through Sunday services with and, in one configuration or another ridden miles of trails with.
“Yeah, Audrey Bunny. How’d you do in the pageant?” Jewels greeted her friend’s sister as her own, rising from the pool and hugging her with dripping arms. “Pretty good, I came in second runner up.” Audrey answered.
Juju grabbed a beer and twisted the cap free. “You know how to start the party, sistah,” she smiled at Katie. ‘Big Nose Kate’, that’s what Natalie called her. Not because she had a big nose, to the contrary, it was a perfect little beak. It was because Natalie had seen Isabella Rossini play the part of Doc Holliday’s mistress in a western years before. The character was known as Big Nose Kate. Katie resembled the actress and Natalie’s nickname was carried with a sense of pride by the dark haired knockout.
“When are Gramma and Auntie Frankie coming back” Katie questioned. “I haven’t seen Auntie in ages. How’s she doing?”
“Great, she’s here to keep G Ma from getting too blue.” Jewels offered.
“I almost forgot. Has she cried yet? That was really a nice service for your grampa.” Katie added.
“I think so, but not while anybody was watching. The house is full of food from all of the neighbors. We won’t have to cook for the whole time. Anybody hungry?” Jewels went into the kitchen to rummage for something to take back outside for the gang to nibble. Christian appeared at her side as she stared into the refrigerator. Spontaneously they both reached for a platter of cheeses and cold cuts, their hands brushing each other in the process. A jolt of electricity raced up each arm, shocking and embarrassing them. Quickly Christian retreated to the far side of the island and began searching for small plates in the cupboard. “Any bread?” he asked off handedly, trying to conceal his discomfort.
“You know G Ma, always. Look on top of the microwave.” Jewels
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pointed toward the appliance with her chin, both hands being occupied with the generous platter of food. Christian found the stash of homemade French bread, crusty and fresh. “I’ll grab a knife. We need anything else?” he asked.
“Why don’t you grab that jar of pickles and the melon” Juju spoke over her shoulder as she past him on her way to the pool. Years of denying their feelings had been great practice for them as they both ignored the electrical current passing between them. They were sure no one else was aware of their true feelings. The truth is that all who knew them well were very aware of their attraction to each other as well as their stubborn refusal to acknowledge it. As Juju came through the French doors to the bricked yard surrounding the pool, Katie caught the backward glance, the edges of Jewels’ eyes furtive belying the affection she carried for Christian. “He’s sure looking buff these days” Katie commented to no one in particular.
“Mmm hmm” Jewels whispered. Christian appeared at the doorway, balancing his load of offerings looking for help from the charming Audrey. She jumped at the chance to be near the handsome young stud and quickly relieved the precarious armload, closed the door and followed him to the glass topped table under the enormous umbrella. “Katie, can I have a beer too?” she whined, unaware of her tone to her older sister. “Sure, when you start buying it” Katie taunted. “I saw some lemonade in the refer. I’ll get you some.” Christian offered. “Thank you, Christian.” Audrey purred, as Katie and Jewels rolled their eyes at each other and chuckled in unison. “Eww! Audrey has a crush!” Jewels teased. Christian shot her a dark look and she stuck her tongue out at him in return. Katie shook her head at them both, familiar with the jousting.
As the afternoon wore on, the four friends lazed in the sun and dined on the offerings meant for Natalie. The idea of going for a trail ride slipped into procrastination and the mild buzz of the beers. Audrey continued to find herself following Christian’s every move. If he lay on a chaise, she took the one next to him. If he moved to a chair in the shade, she complained of the heat and sat down close by. The two older girls ignored her puppy-like behavior and engaged in their endless prattle about nothing and everything, interrupted now and then by the disjointed sounds of pop music erupting from their cell phones as one person or another called to find out where they were
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or what they were doing.
Christian was both annoyed and relieved by the presence of the O’Neal sisters. He like both of them and was grateful they were there to diffuse the volcano of emotions that he knew seethed between he and Jewels; but he also wished to be alone with Juju. This was nothing new, it was always like this, he thought. I’m afraid to be around her when no one else is there and it’s all I look for in life. Why can’t we just go live on some deserted island together and let the rest of the world just dissolve? Exhausted by his own musings, Christian suddenly stood and announced his intended departure.
All three girls expressed their disagreement, begging him to stay and suggesting that they go inside the house and play some pool or put on a movie. He promised to return later, but begged off with some lame excuse about having to run some obscure errand, even though he hadn’t gotten a call or mentioned anything earlier. His mood seemed dark and brooding, the look he shot at Jewels accusatory as he headed towards his truck. She escorted him to the driveway. “What are you mad about?” she asked, knowing he wouldn’t tell her. “I’m not mad,” he growled.
“You are coming back tonight, aren’t you?” she wanted to know. “Yeah, I’ll be back” he mumbled as he started his engine. ‘Yeah, I’ll be back and you know I will. I couldn’t stay away from you if I tried.’ his inner voice screamed at her. “See ya later.” was all he said out loud as he pulled away from her.
Jewels followed the slate pathway back around towards the brick archway and to the pool where Katie and Audrey still lounged. “What’s with him?” Katie asked, eyes closed to the lowering sun. Audrey sat at the edge of her chaise, a questioning look upon her pretty face. “Was it me?” she said.
“Not everything is about you, little sister.” Katie retorted. Jewels just dropped the subject and the three continued their afternoon in amiable quiet, enjoying the building breeze and the song of a mockingbird that had taken up residence in one of the nearby trees. Slowly the sky began its transformation into a color pallet of yellows and purples, the cheese and cold cuts curled and dried, the bread became brittle and inedible. Only the melon had been finished along with the beer. The empty bottles were still where they had been laid
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upon being emptied down the parched throats. Jewels wondered why her grandmother wouldn’t hire a housekeeper as she looked upon the mess they had made. Katie picked at her itchy butt, ready to get out of her wet swimsuit and into a shower. Audrey pulled a strap down one shoulder to reveal a white stripe and whined about getting sunburned. Slowly the three gathered up the remains of the day and headed into the house. They deposited their collected litter onto the kitchen island and each drifted off to her own private bathroom. A couple of beer bottles still lay on their sides next to the poolside chairs. The uneaten remains of the loaf of bread, having been tossed to the lawn, was being fought over by the two fat dogs.
As the sun became a great red ball over the Mobile bay, Frankie rattled the ice in her glass, and sipped the last of her third Cosmo. The two gals had quite a heat on and had become mute, their conversation dwindling with each fresh drink. At first they had been animated and laughing at every unintended pun. Little by little they were numbed into the easy silence, sat and enjoyed the breathtaking beauty surrounding them. The heat from the concrete rose from the streets, battling the cool breeze that was moving in from the bay. A big sigh escaped from Natalie. “What do you say we move inside?” she suggested.
“One more, then I’ll be ready. It’s so perfect right now. You be bartender this time.” Frankie ordered her sister with a silly smirk, as she offered her glass by raising her arm. Natalie pushed herself out of the comfortable chaise provided by the hotel. As she stepped into the room through the open glass door, she caught her toe on the metal frame and stumbled slightly. “Shit!” she chuckled as she headed towards the ice bucket. After fishing out the last remaining cubes with her bare hand, too lazy to get more from the machine down the hall and too drunk to care, she poured what was left of the Skye vodka equally into the two glasses. There was still plenty of cranberry juice and Gran Marnier, but the limes were exhausted. Nat figured whatever was left in the bottom of their glasses would have to do and added an extra splash of the sweet orange liquor to each drink and gave it a stir with her index finger. “Here you go my Queen,” she teased as she handed her sister the freshened drink. “Perfect, thanks.” Frankie reached for her Cosmopolitan and rested her head back, the light of the setting sun reflecting off of her
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sunglass lenses. “This is the life, eh sis,” she murmured. Natalie settled herself back into her chaise. “Oh yeah…life” and she raised her drink to her lips and silently toasted her dead husband.
Frankie was just getting up from her chaise, the need to pee propelling her, when the telephone in the room began to ring. “I’ll get it,” she grunted as she stood up.
“This is Cameron, Cameron Beal” a masculine voice said. “Is that you, Frankie? I’m downstairs in the lobby. I’ve bought myself a tug and thought you’d like to celebrate with me. This is a great hotel. Never stayed here myself, before. Can’t believe how convenient it is to the port.” Frankie was slowly adding the commentary up in her mind…“Cameron? Oh yeah, hey. Why don’t you come up? We’re in, just a minute. Nat, what room is this?”
Natalie rose to stand in the doorway. “Who is that?” she whispered. Frankie returned the stage like whisper, “That guy from Atlanta. He’s downstairs.”
“Well don’t invite him up here, for God’s sake. Tell him we’ll meet him in the bar in half and hour!” Natalie rolled her eyes at her sister.
“Right, right. Sorry…Jesus, you don’t have to get all wound up. Cameron, my sister’s afraid your an axe murderer. We’ll meet you in the bar in fifteen minutes.” Frankie hung up the phone and dashed to the toilet. “Whew! I thought I was going to pee my pants.”
Natalie had followed her into the spacious marble floored bathroom. “Why did you say that? You make me sound like a total twit. I just didn’t feel like entertaining. Besides, we’re out of Skye.”
“You’re right, he just caught me off guard. Wait’ll you see this guy. Drop dead gorgeous in a highland kind of way. I’d love to see him in a kilt.” Frankie ran her tongue across her teeth while watching herself in the mirror as she lathered her hands. Natalie stood next to her, damp wash cloth in her hands. She wiped her face and eyed her sister. “Since when did you go for the ‘highlander type’ as you put it.”
“Since I saw that movie, you know, about the woman who’s husband died. He drove a taxi or something and she went to Ireland to meet his folks.” Frankie was stripping down to her bra and panties.
“You mean P.S. I Love You ? He drove a limo, not a cab. Oh yeah, what a hunk, it was Gerard Butler. And that other actor, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, not too shabby either. Geeze, it’s about time you lift
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your skirts for somebody. How long has it been?” Nat teased.
“Well, not including the fourteen years I didn’t sleep with my husband, three years.” Frankie had finally left her husband of more than forty years just three years ago. It had been a long and painful marriage with innumerable attempts on Frankie’s part to break free. Even after she had finally left him, for the last time, it took her two years to finally get her own place and start a life. Now it was as though the butterfly had at last left her cocoon. Frankie had her own successful business and couldn’t be happier. Her newly acquired freedom had been paid for at a dear price and she had no intention of trading it for another man. But getting laid, that was something else entirely. During her steadily declining marriage, Frankie’s weight had steadily increased. Now, three years of healing and hard work had turned her once stout frame lean and lithe. She was a beautiful mature woman with intense blue eyes and a head of wildly curly mane, streaked with gray. She had always held herself with rigid composure and now her body relaxed into a striking self-assured pose many men found attractive. Frankie’s spray of freckles across her nose maintained a youthful mirth in her face and her even white teeth were her sister’s object of envy.
“Well, come on. Get yourself together. You want to meet this guy or what?” Frankie gave herself a generous spray of her sister’s 5th Avenue and lifting her breasts while sucking in her tummy, admired her reflection in the full length mirror. She had nonchalantly stepped into the white linen shift and sandals purchased that afternoon, dropping her shorts and t-shirt to the floor, which she kicked under the bed.
Natalie noticed the transformation of her sister, once a total compulsive neat freak.
“Keep you knickers on, I’m almost ready. Here try this on.” and she handed a heavy gold chain with an arty gold and diamond clasp to her sister. “That’d go great with your neckline.”
Both women had a penchant for fine jewelry and each owned a treasure of fabulous pieces which they often shared and swapped.
“OOH, yeah, nice. Where’d you find this?” Frankie exclaimed appreciatively as she placed the warm golden piece of art around her neck.
“I found it at a rest stop outside of Albuquerque of all places. They
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had cases of the most amazing stuff from local artists. I couldn’t resist. OK, ready. Let’s go see this Adonis of yours. Excuse me, your ‘highlander’.”
Leaving their purses behind, purposely, they each grabbed a card key and slipped out the door into the quiet hallway and headed toward the elevators.
He was sitting at the bar, facing the door, an expectant look in his grey eyes. A smile broadened his face as her recognized Frankie, fabulous and breezy in her white linen. Her skin had the glow of an afternoon sitting in the sun, her streaked hair billowed about her face. The light from the street side windows caught the diamonds at her throat and shot a rainbow sparkle across the room, drawing his eyes back from their wandering gaze of her body to her face. “Hey Gorgeous,” he rose to greet the two women.
“Cameron, this is my sister, Natalie. Nat, Cameron” Frankie turned to her sister and raised an eyebrow, the nod, nearly imperceptible, seemingly said ‘hey, did I tell you?’. Natalie reached out and shook his extended hand, meaty and rough. He stood as he clasped hers. He was tall, probably six feet two inches, maybe a little more, broad shouldered and had more than a little meat on his masculine frame. Cameron was dressed casually, worn blue jeans and slightly faded rayon Aloha shirt with coconut shell buttons. “The real deal” Nat thought to herself. His face was broad and tanned, eyes bright and smoky gray. Whitened teeth revealed his vanity of their perfect evenness. His hair was slightly overgrown, salt and pepper with a decided wave to it, thick and probably curly had he not combed it into submission. He gestured towards a low table surrounded by comfy leather upholstered club chairs as he swept his drink from the bar into his great paw of a hand. “Ladies,” he offered.
The evening was spent in lively conversation. Cameron was excited about his latest acquisition, an old tug that he would add to his fleet to move barges up and down the Tombigbee and Alabama rivers. He offered to take the ‘girls’ (as he insisted on referring to them) on a tour, which they were delighted to accept, for tomorrow. They had dinner in the hotel dining room and strolled the warm street afterward in comfortable camaraderie, Cameron between the two sisters, their arms tucked into his. His voice, rich and baritone, dominated the sounds of the city. Natalie noticed that each time he glanced at
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Frankie their eyes locked and an unmistakable current flowed between them. As they again approached the front doors of the hotel, Cameron suggested a nightcap. “Ah, finally. A way out” Natalie thought to herself and she begged off with a feigned headache followed by mild complaints of fatigue. Frankie halfheartedly offered to go back to the room with her, but Natalie insisted the two go on without her. Cameron gave her a dry but honest kiss on her cheek and assured her he would see them in the morning for their ‘grand tour’ and wished her goodnight. Natalie walked alone to the elevators, smiling at the thought of her sister’s sure romance with the handsome Cameron.
The couple settled into the comfort of a large overstuffed loveseat in the lobby after picking up a couple of Grasshoppers from the bar. The drinks were sweet and very old fashioned by refreshing in their mintiness. Cameron rested his arm on the back of the small couch, encircling Frankie’s shoulders and absentmindedly wrapped a stray curl around his finger while he spoke. He talked about his life, his business and his failed marriage. He had two grown children, both of whom worked with him in his shipping business. His daughter ran the dispatch and his son kept the team of pilots and deck hands scheduled, overseeing the maintenance of the tugs and barges as well. He was openly proud of them. Frankie deftly averted the subject when he mentioned a possibility of meeting them, reminding him that she lived on the Oregon coast to where she would be returning before long. The hours ticked away, the cubes of ice had long melted in the glasses making a slightly greenish milky residue at the bottom. Frankie yawned. “Well, my charming new friend. I think I had better head back and see how my sister is feeling. What time do you think you’ll be by in the morning for our tour of your new tug?” she looked for a way to excuse herself. Not that she wasn’t enjoying the company, but she was tired and had been suppressing a fart for over and hour, butt cheeks locked tight and starting to ache.
“Do you want to meet for breakfast? I think I’ll just get a room right here and have someone from my hotel deliver my stuff so I don’t have to drive. I’m a bit tight and don’t want to chance it.” Cameron was a smart man and had learned over the years that his money would afford him the ability to make these choices. It was a convenience to be able to pay someone to do menial tasks for him
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and he never considered the cost too great to save himself the bother.
“Sure, how about eight, then?” Frankie glanced at her wrist checking the time and figuring at least six hours of sleep.
“It’s a date.” Cameron rose from his cushion and offered his hand to Frankie, pulling her to her feet in an easy flex of his bicep. He cupped her chin in his
hand and bent to kiss her on the mouth. Frankie’s lips slightly parted and Cameron deftly ran his tongue across them, wetting them and parting them ever so slightly more. His free arm circled her waist as his hand traveled from her chin to the nape of her neck, pressing her to his powerful frame. She felt his pulse quicken through the light floral fabric of his shirt as her own breasts were smashed into his broad chest. A slight moan escaped Frankie’s throat. Her knees felt a little wobbly as he released her and walked her to the bank of elevators across the broad lobby. He pushed the up button and smiled down at her as the doors whispered open. She stepped into the empty box and turned. He cocked his head and lifted one hand in a little wave and headed toward the reception desk as the doors closed. Frankie stepped back and pressed herself against the wall of the elevator, a great grin slowly emerged on her face. “Wow!” she openly exclaimed in the private vacancy of the elevator as it lifted her to her floor. She was still smiling broadly as she opened the door to the suite. Her sister’s form, motionless on one of the queen sized beds, made Frankie hesitate before turning on the overhead light and letting rip with a loud long explosion of gas. Natalie rolled over in her bed and mumbled, “Jesus Todd. I told you, don’t have the chili”.
Frankie chuckled. “Nat, wake up.” she insisted.
“What time is it?” Natalie’s voice was muffled and sleepy. She lay with her eyes still closed and tried to remember where she was. She had heard her sister’s voice, but remembered Todd next to her in their bed at home. As she peeked out of one eye into the bright overhead light, she raised her arm, waving to her sister. “Shut that thing off, will ya?”
Frankie crossed to the bathroom, flipping the light on and opting for the gentler illumination that spilled through the doorway and then turned the brighter light off. “He’s meeting us for breakfast. Downstairs.”
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“What? Now? What are you talking about?” Nat still hadn’t quite cleared her head of the sound sleep she had only moments before been enjoying.
“No, in the morning, doofus. He’s moved to this hotel and said he’d meet us for breakfast before we go over and check out his tug boat.” Frankie was stripping out of her now wrinkled dress and headed for the bathroom sink.
Natalie rose to one elbow, a smile replacing her intital frown. “He’s quite the charmer, Frank. You weren’t lying when you said he looked like he should be wearing a kilt and standing on a windy bluff. It’s pretty obvious he’s smitten by you.”
Frankie poked her head around the corner of the doorway to look at her sister, mouth frothy with toothpaste. “He kissed me,” she gargled. She turned to spit and rinse her mouth. “I mean really kissed me.”
Natalie sat up in her bed, poking her pillows behind her and patted the sheet around her bare legs, waiting for the ‘full report’. Frankie emerged from the bathroom and plopped onto Natalie’s bed. For the next forty minutes the two recounted the evening’s events before both began to yawn and slowly sink lower and lower into the bed until they were snoring softly in the dim light, both draped across Natalie’s bed.
The big yellow rooster crowed the dawn, no one listened. Everyone sleeping in the rambling ranch house was used to his announcements and had come to ignore them. Christian pulled into the drive, sending a spray of gravel to bounce off the gate and slowed as he made the gentle curve out of the tree tunnel. The morning sky reflected on the pond’s surface and the two dogs chased each other down the road to greet him as he approached the front of the house. He gave the throaty engine a little rev before turning the key to kill its rumbling. Swinging his door open and stepping into the early sunlight, he reached down to pet the two waiting heads, as they pushed each other, jockeying for position and wagging their whole bodies in counter rhythm to their tails. They followed him to the garage where he filled their bowls with dry dog food and then settled into the wooden bench swing that hung from the rafters of the covered porch adjoining the garage. If he didn’t
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watch them as they ate, the smaller dog would run the chocolate lab off of his food and hoard it all, growling and nipping at the bigger canine.
Christian hadn’t returned to spend the night as he had promised. A chain of text messages and ignored phone calls had eventually stopped and he knew that the three girls would all still be sleeping in the cool dimness of the house. As the lab finished his kibble, Christian rose and meandered around the perimeter of the house towards the bricked courtyard surrounding the pool. He bent and picked up the last of the stray beer bottles, wet with dew, and headed through the French doors into the kitchen. A pile of platters, glasses and food still lay on the island, mixed with plates of half eaten casserole. A bowl of wilted green salad sat on the counter next to the sink. He debated as to whether or not he should clean the mess, but decided that he would shame the girls into the task later. As he started the coffee maker, Jewels came up behind him, clearing her throat. She rubbed her face and stood before him, braless, in a t-shirt and cotton shorts that had been rolled down at the waist to reveal her pierced navel. Christian pulled his eyes away from her thinly covered breasts and said, “Boy, you guys sure left a mess” referring to the kitchen island that Juju leaned on.
“We’ll clean it up before they get home” she shot back to him as she turned towards the dining room. She had a nondescript tattoo just above the crack of her butt, visible above the rolled waistband. The ‘tramp stamp’ had been acquired during a weeklong visit to Destin, Florida. The beach vacation with Katie had been a gift from Todd and Natalie the summer after their high school graduation. Christian resisted the urge to spank the naughty symbol and followed her to the heavy eight foot long table that dominated the cavernous room. It had been made of a single log, hand hewn with broad axe and adz and bore a small brass placard on one of the massive pedestal legs. The shiny brass plate, no larger than a business card, was engraved with the inscription: ‘This table was made for and inspired by love for Natalie’, and signed by the rugged lumberjack that had made it. Though she had never shared the story, Christian correctly assumed the creator of the table had been one of Natalie’s lovers. The massive yellow cedar table was surrounded by eight great chairs, each nearly wide enough to seat two adults, certainly two children
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easily. At the far end of the room a tall primitive and rustic armoir dominated the barn wood paneled wall. The doors had been removed and the shelving inside revealed Natalie’s collection of ancient pewter and a stack of multi colored quilts, faded by time. Most had been hand sewn at the turn of the 19th century. In the corner, an antique kitchen range with white enameled oven doors and knobs acted as a sideboard. A weathered hand painted sign declaring hay and eggs for sale hung on the wall above the stove. The room was oversized in its dimension and furnishings, yet comfortable and relaxed. Both young people sat in their habitual places, having had innumerable meals served them at the worn and sturdy table. Jewels stretched her arm out in front of her, reaching across the table and laid her head on her shoulder. Her hair was in a matted and tangled knot, secured with a hair band at the back. She hadn’t yet washed her face or brushed her teeth. Christian still found her beautiful and again suppressed the urge to embrace her.
“I was here all alone last night,” Jewels whined. “Katie got pissed with Audrey because she complained about having to sleep on the futons and decided to just go back to her momma’s house. I had hoped she’d come back out, but it was pretty late. Then you never showed or answered my texts. What’s up with that?”
“Well, I just figured you were having a girls night. How was I to know you were here by yourself?” Christian defended himself with a shrug.
“Never mind, poop head.” Juju countered and rose to pour their mugs of coffee. Christian rose to follow her and together they took their steaming cups out to the pool, sitting side by side at the glass topped table to watch the morning set in. After her second cup was half finished, Jewels spontaneously jumped to her feet and dived into the brisk water. “Whoo! That feels great! Come on, Poopface, get in here.” Christian sunk down into his chair. “Nah,” he wasn’t ready for a swim. “I’m going to sit on you if you don’t come in,” Juju splashed at him playfully. Christian cocked his head and looked at the water nymph out of one eye, the other squinted by the sun reflecting off the surface of the sparkling water. Jewels swam a couple of laps then emerged, dripping, from the steps at the shallow end of the pool, her breasts clearly visible through the wet clinging cotton of her t-shirt. Without hesitating, she walked straight to Christian and sat in his lap as though her were an unoccupied chair. “How’s that?” she laughed,
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squirming to get as much of Christian’s lap wet as possible. His response was immediate and uncontrolled. Jewels felt him harden in answer to her body’s flirtation. She pressed herself into him, drenching his chest and lap with pool water. Christian, intending to push her off of himself, grabbed for her wrists and stood up. The unexpected rejection caused Jewels to slip from his lap and land at his feet. Instinctively he scooped her up and she spun to face him. This time, she vowed to herself, he wasn’t going to stop her. “I think I hurt myself,” she lied. “Carry me into the house.”
Concerned, Christian lifted the dripping vixen in his arms like a small child and carried her through the French doors and beyond, to the dim light of her bedroom. Her smell filled his nostrils as he set her on her feet, still dripping, to stand on the thick pile of the Moroccan rug. She locked his eyes with her own and peeled the wet shirt from her torso. Christian didn’t move, but watched, transfixed as she continued her strip. She reached out and pulled at his jersey, faded and threadbare, a remnant of his days on the football field. He allowed her to lift it over his head and he slid his shorts from his own hips. Quivering they stood there, barely and inch of space separating their bodies. Both could feel the other’s skin, even though there was no direct contact. Jewels leaned forward, the coolness of her wet skin causing a mild shock to flow through Christian’s stomach as she pressed into him. Carefully he lifted her until their faces were even and gently kissed her full on the mouth. Their eyes were still locked as she wrapped her long thin legs around him, his hands cupping the cheeks of her smooth ass held her just above the head of his throbbing penis. Her back arched as she sensed his manhood, waiting patiently at the opening to her darkest secrets. Heat poured from her wet and waiting pussy, inviting him in, demanding he come to her and invade her privacy. Christian lowered Jewels just enough for each of them to feel, fully, the mutual invitation. Still, they held each others eyes, knowing that this would be the time. This would be the culmination of all the teasing and flirting they had tortured each other with for years. They knew they wanted to experience it fully, slowly, deliberately. Not like yesterday when they had been swept up against their will, hungry and savage. That had been their first kiss. That had been when they both realized the true nature of their passion for each other. They had each spent the night fitfully,
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dreaming and waking with the specter of the other haunting them throughout the darkness and into the hours of the morning. This would be their marriage, the ultimate joining of their souls. An unspoken bond of communication agreed between them that this would happen slowly, deeply, perfectly. An act never to be refused again, allowed to bring forth all of the trust and willingness that each had felt for the other. A deep shudder ran through one into the other. Neither knew it origin, both feeling the quake. Christian felt as though his arms were Herculean and he could hold her like this forever, perched at the precipice of oblivion, utter mind boggling oblivion; knowing that once they started, there would be no return. A sudden shadow of fear coursed through him and Jewels watched it as it passed through his eyes. She spoke softly and gently. “Christian. I love you.”
He took a step toward the unmade bed, and lowered her onto it, never breaking the closeness of their entwined bodies, his pulsing and hard penis penetrating her as his weight press upon her. She moaned and her eyelids closed as the sensation swept through her. She was wet and warm, welcoming him into her with a sultry and unexpected spasm as she climaxed. An almost imperceptible smirk played across Christian’s mouth as her realized her early response to him. It was quickly replaced with an earnestness and deep love for her he had known existed but had long denied. Holding her in their embrace and rolling to position her above himself, she was able to straddle his bulk and sit up, her face flushed and beautiful. He reached up and pulled the hair band from her tangled tresses. She shook her hair loose, and smiled down to him slowly and deliberately rolling her hips, grinding her pelvis into his, deepening the contact of his penis inside of her. Again a deep spasm of contractions wracked her as she climaxed, a long high call escaped her throat as she again arched back lost in the splendor of the sensation. Christian continued to rock her hips with his strong hands, as Jewels rolled forward, quivering and spent. A flicker of fear passed through her as she felt her body responding again to his persistent rhythm. She felt she knew the very shape of his engorged penis, buried deep inside of her. He cautiously shifted her, allowing the full length of his manly shaft to penetrate her. A little whimper escaped her lips, the ecstasy of the feeling washing over her. “My God” was all she could manage,
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a slight tickle danced at the back of her throat. She had never been so filled, so sensitive, so amazed by the feelings of completeness. Christian again rolled her, this time his weight lifted from her by his powerful arm, still deep inside her. With one hand he lifted her hips as she locked her legs with his. Bending his elbow to bring his face to hers, he began kissing her, lightly at first then deeply, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, matching the tempo of his hips as he thrust himself ever deeper into her wet and swollen abyss. Again, he could feel her mounting excitement and the feral reaction to his relentless drumming. Just as her uncontrolled spasms once again rocked her he released, pulsing and meeting each of her contractions with another throb of his penis, injecting her with his seed. He lifted his weight to alleviate her strained gasps for air, as she wagged her head from side to side. She began to laugh, with an edge of hysteria creeping into it. For a brief moment, she was totally out of control. Christian watched her with great satisfaction. Just as suddenly she began to sob, great body wracking sobs, tears streaming from her eyes. Christian rolled to her side, gently wiping the tears, cooing gentle noises to her to calm her. He knew he hadn’t hurt her. He was alarmed that she had reacted to completely to him, at first, but knew deep inside that this is what it was supposed to be. This was the magic of lovemaking. It went so far beyond screwing or fucking. Both lovers had experienced those shallow attempts at intimacy before, with others. This was nothing like that. This was the realness of what those other encounters had only hinted at. A shaky inhale and Jewels opened her eyes and looked into the mirror of her soul’s mate. This was her man, her old friend and trusted companion. All fear of the possibility that this could ever end or diminish were evaporated by the heat of their love. Christian wrapped Juju in the protection of his arms and without speaking the two fell into a peaceful and serene slumber. The overhead fan, cooled them and echoed the rhythm of their breathing, both in unison, deep and contented.
A slight chill wakened Jewels as she reached for the rumpled sheets to cover herself. Christian, sensing her movement, returned to consciousness alongside her. The two instinctively scooted closer to one another, Jewels turning her back to be ‘spooned’ by Christian. He nuzzled her neck, finding in salty and still damp. The
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instantaneous reaction of his dick as he pressed his hips into Juju’s buttocks pleased them both. Once again the sheets were pulled aside in response to the heat generated by the two young bodies as they roused to each other’s touch. Deliberately he ran his rough hand down the length of her, reaching towards her belly, and explored her wet pussy with his fingertips as his hand scrubbed her neatly trimmed pubic hair. She winced and he realized that he had injured the delicate tissue with his previous invasion and rolled her with him as he proceeded to rise from the sweat dampened bed, holding her infant like in his arms.
Walking through the house, naked and carrying his prize, he went straight through the kitchen and to the French doors, where he ordered Juju to open them, “Like a good girl”. Without shifting his hold on her, he continued his trek to the deep end of the pool and plunged them both into the refreshing water. The startling sensation cleared the drowsiness from both of them and they parted amid a cloud of bubbles. After swimming a few laps, Jewels emerged, wet and glistening in the late morning sunlight to fetch towels for both of them. Wrapped in a couple of Natalie’s roomy white robes, they rummage the refrigerator together. After toasted bagels and cream cheese washed down with freshly squeezed orange juice, the couple quickly dispensed with rinsing and stashing the pile of dishes into the already half full dishwasher. The leftover cheese and meat was tossed to the waiting hounds through the poolside doors. Jewels poured the dishwashing gel into the machine and set the knob to start the cleaning process. Christian leaned back on the counter opposite her, letting his robe fall open to expose his rapidly stiffening manhood. Without waiting for an invitation he scooped Jewels up and deposited her on the end of the great dining table, like a feast to be devoured, and pulled up a chair.
“Mmm, me like meat” he growled as he spread her legs and pushed her back on the length of the table in front of him. Jewels feigned resistance but allowed him to bury his face in the hollow of her belly. He grabbed her long silky legs and draped them over his shoulders, her knees bent and open. Christian reached forward and clasped her hands, intertwining their fingers as he drew her hips toward the edge of the table by dragging her. With great rumbling and animal like growling he pushed his face into her, invading her with his
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tongue. He scolded her spoiled slit with his wet mouth sliding it up and down using the tip of his tongue to discover her rosebud which he began to massage and gently suck. Her response was immediate and violent as he relentlessly pursued her excitement. His tongue darted into her, coaxing a spasm, returned to her clitoris and again massaged and sucked her until she began to wail, never releasing her hands, forcing her to climax again with his mouth. Jewels head felt like it would explode and she began to wriggle and look for relief from the tide of spasms that shook her. Christian followed her moves, keeping his face buried, forcing his tongue ever deeper into her, circling her rose and licking the sweetness from wound. “Stop! NO MORE!” she cried for mercy as another body quake took her still higher. Christian sat up, face dripping and red from the friction of his pursuit. “Hey? What’s that you say? No more? Are you sure?” He smiled down at the panting Jewels, her hair spread out under her head like an explosion of sunshine. Her bare chest heaved as she gasped for recovery.
“You’re a mad man,” she cried out, refusing to look him in the eye. He unlocked his fingers from her numb hands and plunged a finger into her depths before completely releasing her, licking the juicy digit upon its departure from her body. “My oh my, I do love your taste” he leered at her. Jewels coughed and rolled onto her side, closing her legs as she disentangled them from Christian’s shoulders and wrapped her nakedness in the folds of her robe.
“I’ve released a monster,” she whimpered.
“Too much for you, little girl?” he teased.
“Let’s see how much you can take,” she challenged in return and rolled off the table to stand at his side. Even though her legs felt like scrambled eggs, she grasped the arm of the chair and tried to jerk it sideways in an effort to confront him face to face. His robe still hung open, a raging hard on greeted her. “Come here, tough guy,” she taunted as she grabbed for his hand, raising him from the dining room chair. Willingly he let himself be led to the next room and pushed into one of the comfortable easy chairs. As she gave the ottoman that had been pushed aside a little kick, she lowered herself into a kneeled position in front of him. She theatrically rubbed her palms together and leered up at him.
“Let’s see what you’ve got”, he challenged.
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He had expected her to give him a rather technical rendition of formal fellatio, similar to that he had gotten from his high school girlfriend. A simple head bobbing with the lips protecting him from her teeth. He was not prepared for the tender appreciation she now displayed. Slowly, sweetly, she took his fully erect penis into her mouth, gently, as she worked her tongue up and down the throbbing vein that ran its length. She sucked and licked, as though he were made of chocolate ice cream, flicking her tongue over the head and down the shaft to his balls. Gently she sucked his testicles into her mouth and pushed them out again, lips pouting and full only to nibble them with playful nips of her lip protected teeth, her tongue firm and circling, sucking and pressing, gently and carefully. Her mouth again wrapped his hotly throbbing cock, her small girl fingers gently tickled his balls as she continued to draw him into her mouth. Every now and then she gagged, as he plunged down her throat, creating a sensation of her climaxes. She circled her fingers around his penis and stroked him, first in unison with the tempo of her head and mouth, then pulling away as she continued to suck, gliding upwards to meet her lips as she pressed her face downward. Soon the room slipped away from him as he laid his head back into the pillow of the chair and allowed his eyes to close. He had been watching her, the messy blonde head, the distorted face, consuming him, loving him, eyes sparkling and filled with pleasure at pleasuring her man. Now the localized sensations were taking control of him. He no longer wanted to resist the final outcome her stimulation. The wave began to fill him, the pleasant cramp of his groin readying him for the burst of his fountain as his semen built in its chamber, wanting release, demanding release, exploding and throbbing its release into her mouth. A low moan escaped his chest. Without realizing how tense his whole body had become, it now relaxed itself into total oblivion, sank into the wrap of the chair, his legs turning to spaghetti, the bottoms of his feet having released their arc of lightening into the room. He was speechless. Reaching down he grabbed Jewels by the hair pulling her mouth away from his crotch, fearful that she would torment him the way he had been tormenting her. His hands slipped under her arms and lifted her to his lap and she snuggled into his neck, wiping her face on the collar of his robe before kissing him,
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long and deeply, with great emotion and love. These two were soul mates. The long years of their devotion to one another, the tense sexuality that had been avoided, now bloomed and rocketed them to complete and utter communion.

Cameron held Natalie’s hand as she stepped onto the deck of the work boat. It smelled of diesel and man sweat and she recognized it’s value as a machine that could jostle the great lumbering weight of barges, filled to capacity and fighting a current of water. Frankie stood back, waiting for her sister to find her footing on the oily deck. There were no hand rails, no place to lean over and wave to the folks on the dock as the boat pulled away. This was a work boat, plain and simple. Bigger than either woman had ever seen. But then, neither of them had been on that many tug boats.
Breakfast had been pleasant and leisurely. The three had eased into a comfortable camaraderie and the conversation they shared was amusing and light. They had walked to the harbor from the hotel, a distance that had seemed to stretch as they strolled, the morning air gaining in its heat and humidity. The breeze off the water cooled the dampened hair at the nape of Natalie’s neck. Glad she had sense enough to have worn low sandals, she wondered at how wise she had been to choose the billowy white trousers and tunic. She never dressed like this at home, opting for denim and chambray or cotton t-shirts. It just made her feel more as though she were on vacation when she wore the stylish and feminine clothing that normally hung in the recesses of her closet. Francine was similarly dressed, a testament to the identical taste in clothes that the sisters shared. They no longer even noticed, but it was always apparent to others when they encountered the two together. If one wore a white shirt and blue pants, the other had on a blue shirt and white pants, or maybe even the identical outfit, similarly accessorized and often the same shoe style. The breeze lifted the long white skirt from Frankie’s ankles and revealed her tan legs. George, Cameron’s pilot, stuck his head out the door from the wheel house. “Hey, boss.” he greeted the older man with casual respect. “Hi George, just giving a tour. Don’t mind us.” Cameron dismissed the younger man to his duties. They would move the boat later in the day, once the last of the paperwork had been filed and it would immediately be put to work
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with a full crew. Cameron and George had already climbed over every inch of the tug, inspected its motors and inner confines, making sure it was worth the sizable fortune it had taken to acquire it. It was an impressive boat, clean and well maintained. Cameron ushered the women into the galley where a pot of coffee released the aroma of stout strong brew. Everything was stowed away in its proper place and the table tops and floors were immaculate. As the three pressed forward, they squeezed down a narrow hallway to peek into the staterooms and forward bunks. Cameron wisely excluded the engine room from the tour, knowing the noise would make it impossible to hear each other and aware of the ladies’ white clothing. He had to chuckle, just a little, to himself at the inappropriate color for a work boat. Both he and George wore blue jeans and long sleeved denim work shirts, sleeves rolled up to reveal their tan and muscular forearms. Neither man sported tattoos, Natalie noticed.
Returning to the relative roominess of the galley, Frankie leaned on the center table, Cameron having sidled up to her and draped a casual arm over her shoulder. Nat perched on a stool, permanently attached to the floor. “Well, what do you think of her?” Cameron asked the two, referring to the tug.
“Very impressive. She’s much bigger than I had expected.” Frankie looked in his eyes with approval.
“I’m actually a little surprised at how clean it is” Natalie added.
“Yeah, well you know. ‘Ship shape’ and all that.” Cameron beamed. His pride of ownership swelled his already broad chest. “Did you two want to go for a spin?” he asked them. “I can get clearance from the port to go out into the bay if you’d like.”
“No, no. This is fine. Maybe some other time.” knowing full well that she would very unlikely be aboard this boat again, Natalie politely begged off. She liked boating, but also knew the red tape involved in taking a work boat like this out of the harbor as ships were being pushed and maneuvered into and out of the bay. Just touring it from while docked had been sufficient.
Frankie acquiesced to her sister. Hell, she’d have sailed to Tahiti if invited by the handsome Cameron. It had been a good thing her sister was there to chaperone her or she would have made the suggestion herself.
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George poked his head through the doorway, interrupting the easy flow of conversation. “Sorry boss. Do you want me to call the port authority and let them know our departure will be delayed?”
Cameron rose from the group and walked over to his pilot. “No, we’re done here. You should stay on schedule.” He turned to face his companions, “Well lassies,” he said jovially as he clapped his hands, “are we through here? How about I buy you two a tall cool drink?” He turned and winked to the pilot. “Did you call for the car?” he asked in a hush tone. “Yes sir” came the quick, low response.
“O.K. girlies, let’s get off this tub and see what this town has to offer.”
And he happily escorted the two women to the dockside.
Both women were relieved to see a roomy Jaguar sedan parked just past the gangway, doors open in invitation. “Ah, our chariot has arrived.” The big man easily lifted each of the women to the dock and held the back door for Natalie to slide in. As Frankie approached the car, he took he elbow and walked her around to the front passenger door. “Allow me,” he said with a flourish and closed the door after he. The engine was already running and the interior, smelling of new leather, was cool and a welcome relief to the warm sultry afternoon.
Cameron waived to his pilot from the driver’s window as they slid out of the parking area. “I know a great spot not far from here that serves really delicious crab chowder. How do you lassies feel about fish?” Natalie was sure she could hear a trace of a brogue in Cameron’s rich baritone voice. Cameron smiled warmly at his lovely companion seated next to him. “You’re one hell of a handsome woman, you know that don’t you Francine?” Frankie enjoyed hearing her ‘girl’ name on his lips. Usually she preferred Frankie or even Frank from those closest her, but this man, this MAN could probably call her ‘shit for brains’ and she’d think it was the prettiest name she’d ever heard. Natalie watched the interaction between the two of them and realized she had been included in the group, but felt like an intruder. Suddenly she had an understanding of Todd’s feelings when he had accompanied the two sisters on their outings. Knowing that the couple seated in the front seat would never have admitted to her intrusion, Natalie spoke up. “I kind of feel like I’m getting a migraine. I guess it’s the heat and yesterday’s Cosmos.” The mention of the headache would ring true to her sister, familiar with Nat’s regular bouts with the incapacitating noggin-knockers. “Would
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you mind just dropping me at the hotel and going without me?”
Nat didn’t miss the quick glance Cameron shot Frankie, a trace of concern in his face. Frankie turned to face Natalie and reached over the supple leather of the seat back to pat her knee. “Are you sure, sis? Do you want me to come with you?”
“Absolutely not. I’d rather just lie down, by myself, and close out the light before it gets out of hand. You know me…better to just be left out on the ice flow.” Natalie smiled warmly at her sister.
Cameron pulled to the front of the hotel, got out and opened Natalie’s door before the doorman could reach the handle. “I’ll take good care of her, lass. Rest well and we’ll be back before it gets too late. Do you think you’ll fee up to joining us later?” he politely offered.
“I’m betting that I’m done for the day. Please don’t be concerned. This is, unfortunately, a common thing for me. Maybe we can have breakfast again in the morning if you’re staying over.” Natalie waved to her sister through the tinted windshield and gave Cameron a friendly peck on the cheek as she moved toward the open front doors.
Cameron slipped back into the Jag and buckled his seat belt. “How about it, lass? You up to an adventure?” and he dropped the transmission into drive and punched the accelerator. The sleek car jumped ahead and the tires barked as they caught traction. “I am all yours” Frankie hummed as she laid her head back into the secure confines of the leather headrest. Cameron pulled up to the red light, made a right turn onto Water Street and headed toward the highway 10 on ramp, slipped through the tunnel and soon they were flying across the bridge heading east. Frankie watched through the window as they passed the USS Alabama, permanently docked and on display for the tourists and naval historians. She turned to admire her new friend. He had set a pair of sunglasses on his straight nose, his full high cheekbones holding the frames of the lenses. His brow was deeply creased with waves of a few wrinkles, the corners of his eyes sporting crows feet that told of his good nature. Deep lines curved around his mouth from the decades of his hearty smile. The current of air blowing from the air conditioners vent lifted and waved a lock of hair, curled and silver. Most of his thick hair was still dark, the gray most prominent at the temples. His body reminded her of a wrestler or weight lifter. It was thick and muscular, still, at what?
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Maybe early 60’s? Frankie felt feminine and secure in his presence. His masculinity complimented her and she reveled in the feeling of his attentions and affectionate touch. He didn’t paw her, in a begging sort of way. His touch was one of protection, a hint of ownership. Just enough to make her feel special, not objectified but cherished. The weight of his hand on her was not light or reticent. It was heavy and comforting. His smell was spicy and had a clean freshness even in the heat of the southern humidity. Frankie noticed the long thick legs, one knee casually bent and leaning against the door, the other with his foot lolling to the side as it pressed the accelerator. He had the seat pushed as far back as it would go to accommodate his great height and drove with one hand casually grasping the wheel at the center of the bottom. His free right arm draped across the back of the seat, he absentmindedly stroked her hair and played with the curls. He spoke easily and openly. Quick to tell an amusing story, often weaving a joke into the conversation as if it were something that had actually happened. Everytime he dropped the punch line, she had been suckered in and it made her laugh all the more. He was fun, charming and handsome. It made her feel great to know that he had pursued her. He had been the one to approach her at the Atlanta airport as she waited in the terminal for her connecting flight to Meridian. She had been sitting in a chair, watching the other travelers hurrying down the wide passageway, weaving in and out of one another as they searched for their gate. He had simply sat next to her and asked where she was headed. He lived in Birmingham, but had been in Washington D.C. for some kind of meeting and was headed back down to Mobile to close a deal on a tug boat. Everything about him had been manly. His body language, his business, the way he spoke of his interests and family, it all shouted “Man’s man!” yet his demeanor was easy and soft. Like a big ol’ teddy bear, Frankie had thought. He had been gentlemanly and polite offering to buy her coffee when they walked to the Starbuck’s stand. When she told him about her sister and the recent death of her brother-in-law, his interest and concern were genuine. The moment she mention their plan for a couple of days escape to Mobile, he insisted that she let him meet up with them. “I don’t want to intrude. Just let me buy you girlies a couple of drinks” he had begged.
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Cameron took the Highway 98 exit and headed towards Fairhope. When he got to the old 98 alternate, he slowed to take the meandering road that would hug the bay and drop them into the hear of the little village. Cameron parked the Jag down by the community park and pulled Frankie toward him. “I’ve just got to kiss you again, lassie” he said as he deftly unbuckled her seat belt and turned her to face him. She loved the way he used his strength to physically move her into whatever position he desired. It wasn’t rough or demanding, just easy. It was like she was a feather and he was simply arranging her so that he could more easily admire her. He was gentle and sweet, yet his power was so great that it seemed effortless for him to slide her over on the seat. Lightly he took her face into his great calloused hands and pressed his mouth to hers. It was without demand, as though he knew she wanted to be kissed. He lingered there taking a deep breath, as though he were inhaling her scent. He spoke without moving away from her mouth, his breath invading her as he said “What is it about you? I am intoxicated by you. I try to behave as a gentleman, but I feel compelled to manhandle you.” He kissed her more deeply, pushing his tongue into her mouth as he held her face, slowly sliding his hands down her neck to her shoulders and continued to pull her closer. Frankie had kept her eyes open, looking into his deep gray eyes as they clouded and darkened. Slowly she let her lids drop as she felt herself being swept away by the intensity of his kiss. He had lifted her onto his lap and pressed her into his chest. His beard bit into her tender jaw as he continued to search within her mouth with his tongue. Pulling back, slightly, he rubbed his face against her cheek, whispering hotly into her ear. “Hmm, your smell. I can’t get enough of your scent. I want to rub you all over me, I want your scent to fill my nostrils so that every breath I take for the rest of my life smells of you.” Gently and slowly he released her. “Woman, you’ve put a spell on me.” he smiled into her eyes. The car suddenly felt hot and sticky. Cameron reached behind his back and opened his driver’s side door, letting the cooling coastal air flow into the car. “I promised to feed you,” he said as he swung around to pull himself out of the door. Frankie flipped the sun visor down to quickly examine the damages before he opened her door and helped her to rise from the soft leather seat. The coast breeze ruffled her hair and played with her light skirt. Cameron took her hand and they walked back up the hill to the
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colorful shops that lined the narrow street. “When will you return to Oregon?” he asked after a lengthy silence. They were seated next to the window of a snug café, the table small and wobbly, the chairs much too small for his massive frame. She had commented on its cozy appearance as they had walked by and he led her through the doorway by the wrist, her mild protests ignored. They had been given menus and tall glasses of iced water, wheels of lemons floating at the top. A basket of warm bread wrapped in a colorful cloth napkin had taken up most of the remaining surface of the little table and the yeasty aroma drifted up, neglected by the couple. Frankie looked over at his dark and brooding face. He was staring at the menu eyes fixed and obviously not seeing the printed page in front of him.
“I’m not sure, exactly. When we leave here, we’ll go back to Nat’s place for a while. She’s had it kind of rough the past few weeks and I want to make sure she’s not going to head into a tailspin. She always keeps up a strong front, but I think it hasn’t really hit her yet, that Todd is gone, I mean.” Frankie searched his eyes seeing a small wave of relief.
“I’m being selfish, I know. But I’ve only just found you and it aches me to think that you might slip away before I’ve had the proper chance to get to know you better. I shouldn’t have taken you away from your sister when she’s needing you.” he was apologizing and yet looking for absolution from her. Frankie reached out a patted his meaty hand.
“If you knew Natalie better, you’d know that she would rather I were here with you than hanging out in our hotel room, flipping through the television channels trying to find a movie neither of us had seen more than eight or ten times. Cameron, I want to be here with you. I want every second I can get.” Frankie reached into the basket and lifted a soft warm slice of whole grain bread and held it to her nose, inhaling the fresh homey smell. “What looks good?” she asked of Cameron, who still held his menu like a giant playing card.
They dined lightly, the menu typical of a ‘ladies luncheonette’ and shared a rich chocolate dessert before heading back into the bright sunshine of the street. Neither felt like wandering through the little shops filled with candles and cookbooks. They turned and walked back to the Jaguar. A parking ticket fluttered under the driver’s side windshield wiper. Cameron pulled it free and stuffed into his jeans pocket without even reading it and walked around to open Frankie’s
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door for her. They drove down the road following the water. As they were approaching Point Clear, Cameron suddenly pulled into the driveway of a picturesque cottage. The yard was manicured and well kept with a colorful planting of flowers edging the multi-paned windows that faced the street. Frankie could see the sparkling water of the Mobile Bay through the void created between the drive and lawn that rolled down to the water’s edge. An ancient magnolia shaded the lot with lesser trees marking the boundary between the little house and the neighboring lots. “This used to be my folk’s place,” Cameron offered in explanation. “I’ve kept it for when I have to be down here for business. It’s not all that convenient, but I seem to feel at home here.” He had pulled onto the concrete slab that served as a parking spot and shut off the engine. “You want to see it?” he asked looking to her with a sparkle in his eyes.
“Absolutely, I’d love to” Frankie was sure she was going to love the place. “It’s just a wee nest, but enough for a place to land.” Cameron excused the diminutive abode. The neighboring houses were grand in comparison, but Frankie thought Cameron’s house to be much better. He opened the door to expose a light filled room, the reflection of the late afternoon sun played through the sparkling windows that faced an unobstructed view of the bay. The whole house had hard wood floors, a soft patina and worn paths that all lead to the kitchen created an immediately comfortable ambiance. The furnishings were obviously expensive but dated and slightly threadbare. “Most of this was my mom’s stuff” Cameron offered in explanation to the feminine choice of fabrics. Frankie felt instantly at home and walked directly into the kitchen. The sink was deep and white, with a large window directly behind the faucet that had a broad sill lined with several pots of African Violets. The counter tops were snow white glass tiles, set tightly together with barely any grout between them. Tall cabinets with glass doors reached nearly to the ceiling and displayed a haphazard collection of dishes and glassware. Frankie’s hand traced the bullnose edge of the tiles as she admired the total effect of the vintage kitchen. The range was a great double ovened O’Keefe and Merritt with four gas burners and a griddle in the middle. Frankie noticed it still had its original matching salt and pepper shakers snugged up next to the ticking clock. “This place is fabulous. I would be here every chance I got.” she looked around to meet Cameron’s approving gaze.
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“I hoped you’d feel like that.” he countered. He approached Frankie head on. “Now I know I’ve only just met you, but I don’t know how else to say this. I’m hoping that each time you come to the south, you spend at least part of your time here, with me. I want to get to know you better, lass. I want it to be alright to try to bed you. I’m thinking its too soon to be saying these things, but I’m afraid if I don’t I won’t have the chance later.” Cameron took her hands into his. She felt as though her hands had shrunk in size and were being swallowed by the very mass of his. He could consume her with just a touch.
“Cameron, I’m fifty six years old. It will never be too soon for you to ‘bed’ me, as you put it. I have wasted too many years of my life waiting for the right time to do things. I’m not willing to wait any more. I haven’t been with another man since my husband. It has been nearly eighteen years since anyone made love to me. I’m a little nervous about it, to be honest. But you have made me feel more like a woman in the past few hours than I have felt in over a decade.” her voice trailed away, she felt a little shaky and exposed.
“What a damned fool! Any man who would treat you so deserves to be beaten to within an inch of his life!” Cameron swept her into his arms and held her so tight she could barely breathe. “Ah lassie, I had no idea. How could anyone have wasted you so? You’re a lovely woman and bright and shiny as a new penny. What a sweet gem you are, girl” He spoke to her lovingly and gently, looking into her now brimming eyes, tears close to the edge of cascading down her cheeks. Even as he witness them, they poured forth and he kissed them away.
The last time Frankie could remember being carried in the arms of a man, she thought might have been her own father carrying her into the house as a child, asleep from the car. It was a vague memory and she wasn’t even sure if he had, perhaps she had always just wanted to be carried that way. Cameron carried her now, easily, his powerful arms having lifted her like a small child, holding her to his chest so that she could rest her head on him. He moved through the house and took her into an airy bedroom, bathed in light. The multi-paned window was covered with billowing white lace curtains. Frankie could see the green lawn and sparkling water beyond through the pattern. Without adjusting her in his arms, Cameron reached for the light switch on the wall and turned on the overhead
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fan mounted on the high ceiling, probably twelve feet above her head. He walked to the bed and gently lay her across the eyelet coverlet, cool beneath her. She watched him as he removed her shoes, and slid his hands up her tanned legs, raising her skirt to her hips. He sat at the edge of the bed and admired her body. The body she had worked so hard on to trim and firm over the past three years. He traced the lines of her stretch marks, remnants of her only pregnancy. He bent to kiss them and unbuttoned the waistband of her skirt as he did. His strong thick fingers slid her skirt and panties off her together in one long slow motion, his eyes watching hers. A soft moan escaped from one of them, she wasn’t even sure if it had been herself. Without rising from her side, Cameron pulled his own shirt off over his head, having only unbuttoned the top few buttons to allow his shaggy head exit and tossed his denim shirt aside. He had broad shoulders, smooth and muscular, with a thick thatch of dark hair between his pectoral muscles. The rest of his skin was smooth and tanned, his nipples tight and hard. He had the beginnings of love handles at his waist and his belly pushed at the metal button of his jeans. Frankie could see the hard outline of his penis pressed against the fabric of his pants. His hand covered hers as she reached for the button, his fingers assisting her to free himself from the tightness of the worn and faded denim. He wore plaid boxers and the head of his meaty cock had worked itself free of the placket, engorged and proud. He lifted his hips and helped her to work his pants down to his ankles along with the shorts. He kicked his boots free and wriggled a foot out of one pants leg allowing gravity to free his other foot as his jeans hit the floor. Carefully he lifted her blouse over her head, revealing her silk chemise undergarment. She wore no bra. Her breasts still had their shape and fought the light fabric for freedom. Cameron pulled the straps down past her shoulders, pinning her arms to her sides. She twisted and relieved one arm, bending at the elbow and forcing the silk off of her arm. Cameron’s rough hand slid the other strap down past her arm to the wrist where she was able to easily pull her hand free. Her chemise circled her waist like a loose silk belt and Cameron rubbed his face in it, letting the softness and fine fabric caress him as he breathed in her scent. Heavily he pressed upon her, the full length and weight of his body covering her and crushing her into the soft mattress beneath her.
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He forced one arm under her waist and lifted her, bearing their combined weight on his powerful extended arm and toes in a one- armed push up, centering their unified mass on the bed. He easily spread her legs with his own. She could feel his sinewy muscles flex as he found his moist target, plunging in without hesitation. So many years of unfulfilled desire was instantly swept from her as this massive man entered her. She was filled, completed, totally satiated by him. Her innermost being devoured him as he indulged her. He pulled himself from her, rolling to his side as he looked at her, running his calloused hand over her breasts. He lowered his head and began to bite and suck her nipples, hardening them with the tortuous attention, sharp pleasant agony rippled through her as he awakened her sensuality. He was endearingly gentle, yet raw and savage in a way that brought her back from her grave of neglect. The unanswered needs she had felt for so long, buried and dormant rose to the surface of her consciousness. The muscles of her stomach began to quiver with the anticipation of his touch. He lightly dragged his rough fingers down the inside of her raised arms, held above her head by his free hand. It tickled and brought goosebumps to her flesh. Cameron rolled himself onto her once again, scooting down her body, his waist occupying the v where her legs met her torso and pressed her breasts together with his cupped hands, forcing his nose and face into the shallow cleavage. Deeply he inhaled her, sighing as he breathed her out with a low rumbling moan. “I’m wanting to rape you and ravage you. It’s all I can do to hold myself back from tearing into you. I’ve never felt such hunger for a woman before, Francine. You’ve bewitched my. I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t imagine any man resisting you.” And he moved up her again diving his penis into her full hilt, the muscles of his butt flexing as he started a slow deliberate dance, entering and exiting her. He reached his hand down to the hot wet place between them and searched for her clitoris, finding it easily and pressing gently, began the easy stimulation keeping pace with his body’s rhythmic pulse. Deep inside Frankie could feel the response of her own body as he plunged into her, stronger and more intensely with each thrust. A wave built in her, light building behind her closed eyelids as she felt herself spilling over, unbridled. A long lost wildness returned to her senses as she began to buck in response the this giant’s demands. She was swirling away from the earth in a pulsing, pounding wave of ecstasy.
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The deep furious contractions of her climax , terrible and exquisite, ripped through her. A high mounting scream left her as the climax continued, coaxed into greater spasms by Cameron’s relentless pounding. With a great roar the curly headed giant released his semen into her with great choking vibrations, electric and fleshy, drowning her with his feral fluid. He collapsed upon her, sweating and heated. As she struggled for breath, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled over. She lay on him, rising and falling with his great gasps for air. Cameron raised his arm, ran his great meaty hand through is now wild curly hair and tilted his chin down. His eyes were shot with lightening and the sweat glistened on his brow as he searched her face for her response to him. Frankie raised herself onto her elbows, supported by his still heaving chest and reached up, tracing his lips with her fingertips. No words came to her own lips, but he could see the submission in her eyes. She had given herself to him, without restraint, without fear. It was the closest she had felt to a man her whole life. He had been the gift, she the receiver, and now he looked at her with searching eyes, asking her if it was good enough. This was heaven. Frankie adjusted herself on his bulk with a squirm and squeak. Cameron’s heavy arms lay across her, binding them together. She could feel herself drifting as she lazily watched the sunlight’s dance ripple across the ceiling, reflected from the liquid surface a short distance away. Her eyes combed the room and caught on the glint of a silver picture frame. The photo was of two men, one younger and taller, both with their arms locked over each other’s shoulder in a manly embrace. Their faces were nearly identical, rugged and broad. Smiles revealing white even teeth and straight long noses blessed the faces of both men. Square shouldered and with chests inflated by pride, the two stood, locked together for eternity in the timeless black and white photograph. Frankie raised the back of her hand to her mouth, savagely biting the knuckle of her middle finger in an effort to suppress the hearty laugh that dared to escape her. The two men wore identical kilts. Her mirth was not unnoticed by Cameron who followed her gaze to the photo. “Tha’s my dah and me when I was only twenty.” he said with great pride. “He was my age now, in the picture I mean.” The similarity was unmistakable. Cameron was more massive, his power, even in youth, was translated in the small photo. “None of my pals could understand a word he said,” Cameron confided. “He had quite the
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brogue. Me mah too.”
‘So that’s where that comes from’, Frankie mused. She had been sure she heard it, but it only surfaced occasionally and she had begun to think it was her own imagination, her desire to cast him as her “highlander”. She looked back at her great wooly giant of a man, now quiet beneath her and detected a glisten in his eye, an unreleased tear of sentiment. ‘What a great old softy, this guy is’ she thought to herself and a wave of tenderness and affection passed over her. “You are the very man of my fantasies,” she said aloud to him as she continued her search of his gray eyes. His focus shifted from the old picture to her, “Yeah?” he burst out. “Well then, how about another round, lass.” and he again rolled on top of her.
“Holy Crap!” was all that had escaped her before she was again buried beneath his mass. His touch was less aggressive, tamed by the tenderness he felt in his chest for her. He was determined to watch her, this time, as she fell over the edge into the volcano of her own passion. As she neared oblivion, her lids parted to reveal his approving gaze. A wave of deeply rooted shyness washed over her, and the near arrival to her climax slipped from her. “I don’t want to be alone” she whispered and he knew her intimate meaning. Together they made another approach to the brink of their ecstasy and plunged past the point of no return into the pulsing briny dream. Cameron again exploded into her, hot and throbbing, grabbing her hair and kissing her hard on the mouth as he came inside of her. Frankie gasped for air and felt as though she were swirling into unconsciousness, dizzy and reeling from the intense pleasure of her body. She had again fallen into the precipice with him, only this time no scream, no feral reaction to his ardor. This time she felt herself connected and completed by his body. Deep sobs began to fill her as his weight continued to crush the breath from her lungs. Abruptly Cameron released her, lifting himself from her now convulsing body as it was being wracked by the emotional sobs. Fear grabbed his heart as he realized he had been crushing her, thinking that he may have brought her to the brink of death. Her distorted and anguished expression terrified him and he lifted her with great tenderness, sitting up in the process and holding her like a small child in his lap. “Oh, darlin’, don’t be doin’ that now. I’m sorry, I did nah mean to hurt you.” The alarm in his head had opened the window of his ancestral tongue as his brogue thickened as he comforted the stricken damsel.
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Frankie began to openly cry, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I’m not hurt, Cameron. I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s like I’ve been pulled from a well, a deep and dark well, where I’ve been held captive. And you, my handsome man, are my salvation. My knight, saving me from a long deep sleep of death.” Frankie nuzzled into his neck and allowed herself to be comforted by this naked warrior.

Natalie frantically swept the sheets from her near naked frame, her hormones racing and igniting a firestorm throughout her whole body. She had been laying in the bed with only a worn t-shirt and panties on, her eyes near sleep as they vacantly witnessed the flickering of the television screen while Marilyn breathily sang how diamonds were a girl’s best friend. She shot from the mattress and headed for the bathroom, pulling her few clothes off as she closed the door. Soon the stinging needles of a cold shower soothed the inferno and she took a shuddering breath, letting the water run over her head and down her neck. As the searing heat subsided, she turned off the flow and stepped onto the damp pile of towels, left on the floor from the afternoon swim in the hotel pool. Wrapped in one of the hotel’s thick white robes, she remained naked, no towel on her hair, and returned to sit on the edge of a chair, picking up the remote control along her way. A room service tray, littered with the remains of a club sandwich and a small pile of hulls she had carefully extracted from a bowl of fresh strawberries, sat on the small table nearest the floor to ceiling glass wall. She considered calling the concierge desk for a second time to book another private massage. After all, why else had she driven all this way? She hadn’t heard from her sister at all, which was a good sign, nor had she gotten any calls from the ranch, neither Christian nor Jewels calling to report a problem. All was well with the universe, she mused to herself. Almost as though wishing it from the cosmos, the phone next to the chair came to life, whisking her back from her peaceful reverie. Before she had even lifted the receiver, she knew it was Frankie. “Hi sis,” she answered confidently. “Having fun?” The sun was just beginning it’s play of color across the western exposure of sky. Frankie, watching the same display, sat wrapped in a light cotton kimono, given to her by Cameron. She smiled into the feminine yet ancient aquamarine princess-line phone. “Yessss,” she drawled. “I’m having fun. How’re you feeling?”
Natalie, reminded of her feigned headache, switched her voice to a
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staged hoarse whisper. “Better,” she whimpered. “Thanks for letting
me have the time to myself. I hope Cameron wasn’t offended. He’s been such a sweetie.”
“I think he’s okay with it. We thought you might be ready for some dinner and company” her sister offered.
“How was the crab chowder?” Natalie asked absently
“He’s making it now. We drove down to his place in Point Clear, you know, just below Fairhope. It’s just the sweetest little house, right on the water. We’ve just been hanging out and enjoying each others company.” Frankie turned her head to watch Cameron in the kitchen, naked except for the ruffled apron that barely covered his dangling penis but left his magnificently muscled buttocks exposed.
“Fairhope? No, I think I’d rather just stay here. I ordered some fruit earlier and really don’t feel like eating anything.” Natalie fibbed to her sister. The thought of a gooey rich hot fudge sundae popped into her mind. “You two keep out of trouble and I’ll see you in the morning.” Natalie was fishing for details of Frankie’s date.
“Hmmm, maybe. I might be back tonight, I don’t know yet.” Frankie covered herself. Cameron, eavesdropping from the kitchen boomed out, “I’m going to kidnap your sister and you’ll never see her again!”
Frankie covered the mouthpiece of the receiver. “Stop that! She’ll never let me run off with a dark stranger again if you scare her!” Natalie could hear the good natured bantering, muffled by her sister’s fingers. “You tell him if he takes you, he’s got to keep you. No returns, no exchanges.” Chuckling, Frankie hung up the phone. “She’s fine. I’ll bet she’s faking it, anyway. She likes you.” Frankie rose to snuggle up to Cameron’s nearly naked backside. “What can I do to help?” she offered, her voice husky and smothered by his back as she pressed her face into him.
“Not a thing, princess. Just stand there,” he waved the blade of his chef’s knife indicating a vacant spot next to his cutting board, “and open your robe. I want to feast my eyes on you.”
“How about a glass of wine?” Frankie opened the door of the round-cornered Fridgidair to find it well stocked with essentials and several long necked bottles of a Gewürztraminer that she knew to be crisp and fresh with overtones of pear and apple. “You’re reading my mind” Cameron glanced at her, appreciating her silhouette, made clear by the light of the refrigerator. Frankie pulled the chilled wine
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out and rummaged a nearby drawer for the opener, delighted to find a ‘waiter’s key’ that she preferred. The glass front cabinet held a number of fine crystal wine glasses and she chose two. A contented sigh escaped her, not missed by her host. A smiled played across his mouth and he raised his focus to the lovely manicured yard that lay beyond the kitchen’s window. Frankie handed him the tall stemmed glass, half filled with the cool crisp wine. The lightly tapped the bowls of their glasses together in an unspoken toast.
The chowder was heavenly, rich and creamy, laced with saffron and sweet white corn. The subtle perfume of fresh dill had set it apart from the expected recipe. They had shared the better part of a crusty loaf of French bread, purchased during their short excursion from the cottage to get the carefully picked fresh crab meat. The meal had been simple yet superb and Frankie now experienced a complete sensation of satisfaction. Belly full, pussy still burning with the memory of Cameron’s invasion, the sweet and subtle buzz of two glasses of wine, she rested her chin on the palm of her hand, elbow on the table and watched him sop the last of his chowder with the soft inner sponge of his bread. A sly ‘ghost fuck’ filled Frankie’s groin as he looked up and caught her eye, a small crumb of bread just below his lower lip hung on the stubble of his darkening beard. She reached out with her thumb extended to brush it away when he caught her hand and dragged he wrist to his mouth, kissing it gently at her pulse point. “You are the first woman to be in this house since we buried my mother.” Cameron whispered huskily. “I thought maybe it was just your ‘love den’.” Frankie teased before she realized how vulnerable he had made himself to her. “No,” Cameron exclaimed with great earnestness. “Truly, Francine, I’ve not brought any other women here. Well, my daughter and grandkids of course, but no lovers.” Frankie was touched by his sudden outburst of defense.
“Thank you, Cameron. I didn’t mean to make you feel as though you had cheated on me. We’ve only just met and, well, I assumed you were a pretty active guy with the ladies.” Cameron’s neck and face flushed with the comment. “I admit I’m no celibate. But I’m not a whore either.” he pronounced the word ‘hoor’ which lightened Frankie’s guilt. “That’s not what I meant. I just think you are so amazing it’s hard to fathom that you have no full time woman in your life. I guess I kind of assumed that you would have a string of
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beauties waiting in the wings for your spare time.” Frankie playfully dipped her index finger into her wine and shot a sprinkle into his face. “Is that my blessing then?” Cameron returned her smile, the sparring averted.


On a whim, Natalie took a sheet of hotel stationary and a hotel pen and wrote: “Be happy. Do good works.”, laid it on the littered room service tray, turned and walked through the glass door to the private balcony. She passed the two chaise lounge chairs where she and her sister had sipped their cool and refreshing Cosmopolitans and approached the plexi-glass barrier that acted as a safety rail. The breeze coming off the Mobile Bay caught her face as she stepped over the barrier and took a swan dive to the pavement below. No one saw her or heard the heavy thump as she hit the steps of the back entrance to the hotel. It was late afternoon, traffic was light in the downtown area. The back doors of the hotel had been closed and locked. Normal foot traffic used the front entrance and no one approached the hotel from the seldom used broad steps. The heat of the black pavement coagulated the pool of blood that formed around her head. Her vacant and open eyes stared unblinking into the sky, like a cloud watcher.

The bodies of the two youthful lovers, intertwined and exhausted after a full day exploring their passions for one another, lay quiet. Neither slept. A breeze from the south lightly billowed the curtains and swept across their naked limbs, tangled together in their relaxed embrace. Jewels eyes were open, watching the spin of the fan, when she envisioned the face of her grandmother. She resisted the urge to cover herself, instead feeling a slight sense of defiance at the thought of being caught naked and in bed with Christian. A lightness and acceptance seemed to emit from the eyes of the imagined face. Juju felt a sudden and total wave of love and softness wash over her. An unexplained desire to cry filled her eyes with hot tears. She turned her head away from the fan to look at Christian, lying next to her, on top of her, underneath her. His face was placid, eyes open with lids relaxed and unblinking. “I wonder what your gramma’s doing.” he said absently.
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“Probably sitting on the balcony having a Cosmo and watching the sunset” Jewels offered.
Two hundred miles to the south, Juju’s auntie and handsome lover were seated on a hard wooden bench in the back yard of Cameron’s little house, soft green grass beneath their bare feet. He sat relaxed, with his knees apart, leaning back, arms outstretched across the cold
metal frame of the bench back. His left thigh touched Frankie’s right thigh as she nestled next to him. She still wore the light cotton kimono and he wore a soft bath sheet wrapped around his waist like a Samoan pareau. The breeze off the bay lifted the hem of the kimono, exposing her tanned legs and tossled the curls on both heads. The setting sun was painting the sky with lavender and pink. A feeling of utter contentment and peace flowed through them both. Cameron wondered how he could have such deep and utter love for a women he had never even seen three days ago. Frankie thought about her sister and silently thanked her for the gift of freedom. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, the vision of her sister’s eyes floated in the reddish blackness of her eyelids. They were soft and loving, filled with wisdom and experience. Even though Natalie was only five years older than Francine, she had lived decades more. It seemed to Frankie that she had spent so much of her life in a coma, her sister planted at her side trying to call her out of it. Now she was awake with life and soaring with the freedom of the world in front of her. “I love you, sis.”















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