Maureen's mom had walked her daughter through her earliest years; her injury, those awful first months when she nearly died, the little boy who was her companion and savior, their separation, and her subsequent surgeries and therapy. Maureen listened at first with polite condescension, but her patronizing demeanor soon evaporated; fading into disbelief, then confusion and denial; and last to appreciation, an appreciation tempered with profound feelings of guilt and grief, guilt over her own insensitivity and grief for her mother's suffering. She'd just never realized the worry and concern she'd put her mother through, nor had she understood the meaning, or power, of selfless love, unrequited devotion.
Subsequent to her mother's revelations Maureen struggled with her missing early years, and with how to introduce Cal to their shared history. She didn't doubt Cal; only her own inadequacies.
Across town Cal had found his grandfather waiting for him with the only personal treasures the old man had; his long deceased wife's wedding and engagement rings. The discovery of the rings, his grandfather's more than casual willingness to see they went to Maureen, and his grandfather's very obvious approval of a girl Cal had mistakenly believed the old man hardly knew caused considerable confusion. Cal knew he was socially backward, often unaware of what was going on around him, but more and more it seemed like he was standing in the eye of hurricane; a storm whose force he neither appreciated nor understood.
Later that night, maybe 5:00 a.m., unable to sleep, and unraveling emotionally, he called Maureen. His insecurities had caught up with him. How could anyone as beautiful, intelligent, and dynamic as Maureen fall for a fool, a buffoon, like him? He called. She was reassuring, but he still couldn't get to sleep. He was lying there in bed, Maggie slobbering on his pillow, still worrying.
Not that many days before sleep had never been a phantom; his head would hit the pillow, and he'd be out till morning. That was before Maureen, since then he'd started thinking. He thought about the future, his future, his future with her, having kids, thinking about becoming a husband, a father, actually becoming something. What if she did change her mind? It was driving him to distraction; when a person who never had anything and had no expectations of having anything found they had something, someone, then life became more complicated.
He felt like he was watching, or living, the movie The Wizard of Oz; in one scene everything was black and white, no color, no focus, no vibrancy; then in the next scene everything was in vivid color, alive, purposeful, and filled with meaning. It scared the shit out of him!
Cal's cell phone rang. He opened it. It was Maureen. Oh no, she's calling back, she's changed her mind after all.
He tremulously spoke into the phone, "Hello?"
"Cal, why don't you come on over right now? My mom's upstairs. I know you're a little scared." He could almost hear her purring, "I don't want you to be upset."
What a relief! Great! He answered, "I'll be right there." He hesitated, "It is OK?"
She answered, "It's OK. I need you."
"OK," he said. He hung up the phone and looked over at Maggie, "Come on girl."
The drive back to Maureen's was quiet, traffic was light, and he got there in no time. Walking up the porch to the door he knocked.
Maureen was waiting for him; she opened the door before he'd finished his first knock. She had been desperate to see him anyway. His late night call only convinced her of her need to have him underfoot that much more; like a puppy dog, she thought, he might wander off and get hit.
She was wearing a single piece nightie. A pale pink baby doll, empire waist, low cut neck line, short capped sleeves, and a hemline that barely reached the tops of her thighs. She was barefoot, had no make up on, and her hair was in two pig tails. Cal found himself in an immediate state of agitation. God, she always looked so damn beautiful.
He told her, "You always look so pretty. Every time I see you I ask myself how I got so lucky."
Maureen had deliberately changed into this particular nightie knowing it would have just the kind of effect it had. She liked the looks he gave her, and she liked his compliments. She'd been complimented by others, but she knew his comments were always sincere. At the moment though she wasn't taking any prisoners, "Well you sure look awful. You need a shave. Have you slept at all? And I smell you."
He blushed and then stammered, "I, I, I'm sorry. Oh, I mean."
She reached up with her right hand and pulled his head down so she could reach him. She kissed him, then smiling, "I want you to look haggard when I'm not around, and I want you to be sweaty, then I'll know you're worried."
He kissed her back and tried to pull her closer but she wouldn't let him, "Maureen I'm sorry I woke you up. I got scared."
She took his hand and walked him inside, "Come on over to the sofa. We'll talk."
He followed her in and they sat down beside each other. She asked, "OK, so what's the problem?"
"Oh it's nothing I guess. I just got scared."
She asked, "Yeah, like of what?"
He put his right arm on the top of the couch above her shoulders, and put his left hand in her lap, "A few days ago I was a happy nobody. I worked, built a few things, had a dog, but that was it. I was happy. I wasn't anything or anybody. Then I met you. You said, and I believe you, that you loved me. We made love. You took me over, bought me stuff, took me out to the tavern, we announced marriage plans. When I'm around you I feel important, when I'm not, well, I'm just not. Don't you see?"
Maureen saw and understood. She felt the same way, but wanted him to say it, "Say it again, just what you want me to see."
He responded, "Oh Maureen the other day I was nothing; I was nobody, going nowhere. Then suddenly I'm somebody; I have a life, a real life, somebody loves me, you love me. Sometimes I get scared. Look Maureen. You're pretty, smart, popular, you have everything. What would somebody like you want with a nobody like me? You see don't you?"
Maureen was glad they could get it all out in the open again. They'd had this conversation before. He lacked confidence, in himself and in her, "No Cal I don't see. I mean I don't see what you see."
He looked at her with a confused expression.
She went on, "Haven't we had this discussion before? Remember the night of the fireworks? I do. I remember how uncomfortable you were, but you let me lie on you. I got to be relaxed and comfortable while you were miserable. You hardly knew me. Heck Cal, you knew me as the girl who'd hustled you at pool, and you still were looking out for me at your own expense."
He started to say something, "But I..."
She stopped him, "Shut up. Look, you're the blind fool of the century. You're a wonderful good looking man," She had to put her fingers over his mouth to make sure he didn't say anything.
"You are good looking. You're very handsome, and people like you, not because you're handsome, but because you're good, you're sincere, you're kind, and you have a really nice smile."
He started to interrupt again, Maureen I..."
She held her hand over his mouth, "I said shut up. Look, no one knows more about you than I do. You haven't got a clue about what I know. I love you. Look here. I love you Cal." She took his left hand and placed it on her left breast, "Hear it? That's my heart. You've stolen my heart."
He felt her breast. He could feel her heart beating, "I'm sorry I know I'm being stupid."
She took his right hand down from the sofa and put it in her lap, on her vagina, she smiled, "Look what you did for me."
He asked, "What was that?"
She was really grinning, "You gave me your cherry. I took your virginity. Do you know what that means to me, to any woman?"
He shook his head.
She pushed his right hand further down between her legs to her uncovered pussy, "Whenever I go into a bar. If I ever walk into a tavern I'll know for sure no woman will ever be able to look at me and say, 'I had your man.' I'm going to be the only woman you'll ever have."
He squeezed her mons. He leaned forward and started kissing her. He interjected, "Isn't that what the man's supposed to say?"
She bit his lip with her teeth, "You can't handle a little role reversal?"
He ignored the bite and kept kissing at her, "With you? Never!"
She kissed him back; then she asked, "Have you ever wondered about the scars on my legs?"
He stopped kissing her, "Yes, a little, but I didn't want to pry."
She started unzipping his fly, "Go ahead; pry."
He asked, "You don't mind?"
"Ask," was her retort. By then she had his belt undone and was busily pulling his pants down.
He kissed her on the lips, then her nose. He nuzzled her ear; he used his left hand to squeeze the top of her puss, "What happened to your legs Maureen?"
She'd gotten his boxers down and was holding his thing in her hand. It was already very hard, "I don't' remember really, but my mom told me."