A Wal Changed Everything

(Revised 11/23/2022)

All characters engaged in adult activities are over the age of eighteen, and yeah, I guess this needs to be said: This is entirely a work of absolute fiction. Places and parties described are incidental and used only to add realism.

WARNING:

This story is presented very differently than our prior works. It progresses in a nonlinear manner. We think the tale carries greater weight and impact this way. The dates heading each shift will keep the arcs clear. Most of the feedback we've received supports our choice, but it's important to the revelation of the plot as it moves.

If you find it too difficult to track, there's

a different version

with the same story restructured into a linear sequence. Do note, though, that version won't receive revisions and edits like this version will thus might contain errors already corrected in this one.

There's plenty of eroticism in most of our other tales, but there's not so much in this one. If you are expecting this story to be similar to our others, you might prefer to simply skip this one.

Though this story completely stands on its own, it's related to

The Flight Before Christmas

, so you might want to read it first, as there are some minor spoilers to that story contained within this one.

We Did a Good Thing

should be read after both.

Let us know your thoughts in the comments!

We hope you enjoy:

A Walk Changed Everything

"I can't accept it," she whispered, looking down to me. She pulled her hand away from mine.

I stared up at her. My heart skipped several beats.

"Why not, love?"

"You know the answer to that."

March 3, 2015, 2:58am

"Rob," I heard with her jostles. "Babe, wake up."

"What's wrong now?" I groaned into my pillow when I checked the clock.

"We have to go," she answered and turned on the overhead lights. The glare made me squint my eyes.

"It's barely three o'clock. We're not even supposed to check in until seven."

"No, we need to go now. I'm in labor."

"You sure it's not Braxton Hicks again?" I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"Braxton Hicks wouldn't cause my water to break," she said. "I think our baby is coming the usual way."

The urgency of the situation struck me quickly, and I clambered out of the bed. I trotted to the kitchen in my underwear to turn on the coffee maker, then went back to the bedroom where I threw on the clothes I'd placed in the "dash stack" which had been assembled on top of the dresser. It'd been there for a month. It held briefs, a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, socks, even a separate pair of shoes and a coat so I wouldn't need to run around the house looking for my everyday ones.

Corrie had already dressed before she'd awakened me. She added her e-reader, phone, and a charger which worked for both into her own "go bag."

I expedited the rest of my morning needs and met her in the kitchen where she'd poured me a travel mug of hot brew. She'd abstained from coffee for eight months.

"We got everything?" she asked as we made our way to the garage.

"I think so."

I'd relentlessly teased Corrie's insistence of planning all the "dash details," but was honestly glad I'd acquiesced because my mind was reeling. I wasn't even sure I remembered the route to the hospital, even though we'd driven there three days before only to be discharged due to false labor.

"This is really happening," I said, grinning at my wife, rubbing my palms together to warm them as the garage door rose.

It was cold, and about two inches of fresh powder was on our driveway.

"That's not going to help," Corrie groaned as she climbed inside the passenger side of the car.

"There won't be any traffic this early. It shouldn't take more than half an hour to get there," I said with cautious optimism. "Just … clench. Do Kegels. Just … keep the door closed."

She laughed. "Sweetie, it doesn't work quite like that."

"How far apart?"

"Maybe ten minutes. I don't have any comparisons, but I think they're mild," she said, describing her contractions. "I felt the first twinge a few hours ago."

"Plenty of time.

Pal-hen-tee

of time."

The snow audibly popped and crunched under the tires as I backed out of the garage. It was the dry, fine sort impossible to form into snowballs. The upside to it was that the traction and stability control system in our four-wheel-drive SUV had no problems gaining purchase.

I chose to drive the surface streets instead of taking the three-mile shortcut on the highway. The lack of traffic would favor us, and the flashing signals wouldn't consume more time than a stop sign would for one solitary car.

"Are you excited?" Corrie asked, reaching out and grasping my free hand.

"Like you read about," I answered with a broad smile.

"Me, too."

She winced for several seconds.

"Oh boy," she said, panting a few times.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. That one was a lot more than a twinge. I hope I'm not too far along for an epidural."

"Even if you are, just remember. You'll forget the pain as soon as you hold our baby in your arms."

"Maybe, but I'm not sure I can endure a long ordeal."

"You can get through anything, Corrie. You're the toughest woman in the universe. Unless I have to take a wee or something, I'll be by your side the entire time."

She grunted. "

Oh

! Never talk about peeing to a pregnant woman!" She laughed. She laughed

hard

. "

Gahh!

Darn it, Robin! That's why I've had to wear pee pads these last two months. Don't make me laugh!"

"I love you to the moon and back, Corrie," I whispered, shooting her a smile.

"Corrine S. 2/10/97" was written on yellowing paper which her mother had sealed in a page of the scrapbook she'd made. I knew the year but didn't remember the precise date. I was lucky to have it in my possession.

"Can I use your glue stick?"

Though I'm certain they weren't, those were the first words I remember Corrie saying to me. It was during fourth grade art class at S. W. Majors Elementary in Shawnee, Kansas.

"Sure," I answered, handing her a stubby tube of Elmer's.

I remember being awed, as well as somewhat shamed, by what she did with it. I watched as she used a popsicle stick to scoop a bit of the glue. She traced the paste on the few remaining penciled lines and sprinkled colored sand on them.

At the time, I didn't know such a thing was called a mandala, but I knew what she was creating was better than the construction paper abomination I'd "crafted."

"Thanks," she said, then took her creation and hung it from two clothespins to dry. "What are you making?"

"Mars."

"Oh. Cool."

It was the day before the school's open house.

Her project was featured on an easel. Mine still hung where I'd clipped it. Parents slowly milled by the displays, feigning appreciation and pride in their kids' immature art.

"Mars, huh?" she asked when we encountered each other during the event.

"Yeah."

She pointed and inquired, "Why is this part green?"

"Because I ran out of orange and red."

"You could have used mine."

"What's yours called?" I asked.

"I don't know. What would you call it?"

"The winner."

She smiled and waved lightly as she departed with her parents. "See you tomorrow."

"See ya, Corrie."

March 3, 2015, 3:17am

"Ooph," my wife groaned.

"You going to make it?"

"Yeah. I think."

"Kegels, girl."

"Shut up, Robin! Unless you're prepared to pass a ping-pong ball through your ding-dong, don't tell me to squeeze off a cantaloupe!"

"Fair enough. Only about ten minutes more until we're there."

"You know I love you, right?"

"I absolutely do."

"

Ooouchieee

!" She hissed as another contraction gripped her. Her hand grasping mine proved she understood I was only trying to distract her.

August 18, 2005

"Stop!" she shouted. "You missed the turn. Turn right at the next light."

She teasingly chuckled at me as she held my hand.

"Sorry, but you were distracting me from navigating."

"I love

a cappella

stuff," she said in a sigh. She stopped the CD she'd been singing along with.

I smiled. "You have a talent for it. I enjoy listening to you sing. Your voice is … angelic."

I rounded the corner, entered the shopping center from the back, then pulled into a parking spot at the cineplex.

"What do you want to see?" I asked as we walked past all the back-lit movie posters.

"You're going to think I'm weird."

I grinned teasingly. "I already do. Whatever you choose is okay with me."

She laughed her sweet laugh. "How about

Wedding Crashers

?"

I yelped in absolute delight, then bought us two tickets.

"You seem kinda giddy," Corrie observed after we'd stepped out of the queue.

"Well, yeah! I didn't think you'd be into that kind of movie."

"Rob, come here," she said, taking my hand and guiding me around the corner of the cinema's front exterior, away from the flow of people, instead of stepping through the doors.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she whispered.

She gave me an awesomely soft, tender kiss. It surprised me because she'd never been a fan of public displays of affection.

"I love you, Robin."

"I love you, too, Corrie," I said through a deep sigh, holding her small frame to me.

She leaned back a little, smiled sweetly, and softly brushed the tip of her nose across mine. She took my hand again, and we walked into the theater.

As we both laughed at the idiocy of the movie, I enjoyed feeling her resting her head on my shoulder and the fingers of her left hand intertwined with my right. As we walked back to my car later, I heard her sniffle and saw tears in her eyes.

"Corrie? You okay?"

She sighed in exasperation. "No, you

dork

."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm going to miss you

so much

."

She reached for me and quickly pulled me into a tight embrace before she began crying. I held her close to me, stroking her back and running my fingers through her soft auburn hair.

"I feel the same way," I confessed. "I just couldn't bring myself to say it because it hurts to even think it."

I tilted her head so I could look into her soulful brown eyes. I wanted her to see that I was also fighting tears before I kissed her.

"Give this a kiss, too, please?" I requested, offering her my hand.

She placed her lips on the signet of my class ring.

I smiled. "Now I'll always have one near me when I'm missing you. You'll have to do it again as soon as we're both back home in case it wears off."

She asked me to do the same for the heart-shaped charm attached to a bracelet on her left wrist which bore our initials, RGCS. I'd given her the set as a gift for her eighteenth birthday seven months prior. Her perfume delicately laced her skin. I inhaled quietly. It was a scent I never wanted to forget.

"I can't believe the time's come already."

Both of us applied to the same pair of schools, but, as luck sometimes means sacrifice, we earned full scholarships from the opposite ones.

"I'm proud of you. UCSD will be good to you," I whispered.

"UNC is one of the best communications schools in the country, too, and you're going to do so well. I just know it."

I felt a noose tightening around my neck as 1:00am approached. Corrie had promised her parents she'd be home by then in order to make sure she was able to catch her flight to San Diego the next morning. I drove her back to her home. I asked her to sing for me again, but she couldn't, so the drive was almost wordless. I stopped at the end of her street so we could kiss one last time.

It became at least seven last times. My mind focused on the flavor of her kisses and the scent of her breath. I didn't want to forget either.

I pulled into her driveway where she exited the car. My tears came when I dropped my bravado after I saw her go inside her house.

My flight to North Carolina departed two days later. At that point, there were more than two thousand miles between me and the girl I loved with all my heart and soul.

October 31, 2015, 5:30pm

I made sure the house's exterior and interior lights were turned off. I couldn't stand the thought of seeing all the happy little kids dressed up for trick-or-treating and hoped the appearance of vacancy would keep them from ringing the doorbell.

I decided that any who did, I'd ignore.

Instead, I reclined into the bed in the guest room to binge on Netflix.

March 3, 2015, 6:16am

"You are correct, Mrs. Grant. I would have bet on it since you're more than two weeks overdue, but a Cesarean won't be necessary now."

"Duh!" Corrie barked at her obstetrician.

He was a little bleary-eyed, having been awakened a couple of hours earlier than he expected. He laughed good-naturedly.

"Yeah. I know. And you're already at nine centimeters. The anesthesiologist is giving an epidural to another patient right now, and I doubt he'll be done in time to take care of you. You, your baby, and your husband are going to get through this the way billions of women have throughout history."

"The hard way?" she grunted.

"You'll have your little one in your arms within the hour. Your husband is right there," he said, pointing at me with a chuckle as I sat next to her on a rolling stool. "Remember. It's his fault, not mine."

My wife shot me a look. Yeah, she was in a lot of pain, but her expression also conveyed joy and anticipation.

"Sienna," Doctor Wilkes said, "I need her on mag sulfate. A half gram IM now, and an IV of ten percent solution at one mil per minute. Set the monitor to check her BP every two minutes."

"What's that mean?" I asked.

"Corrine, your blood pressure is a bit high for my liking. I'm only being cautious," he answered to her instead of me. I understood why he would.

"Robin, I love you so much!" she hissed through the grunts of a strong contraction. "I can't wait to see our child in your arms!"

"That's the spirit," the doctor said, laughing lightly while rolling his stool into position at her pelvis. "I usually hear more hatred than love about this point."

June 15, 2014

"I've got something to show you, I've got something to show you," Corrie sang to the tune of

nanny nanny boo boo.

I'd come home from work. It'd been an incredibly fatiguing day. I figured she'd returned maybe an hour before.

"Oh, crap," I groaned. "What'd I do?"

She was laughing, but it didn't settle my unease.

Had I forgotten an important chore? I'd remembered to fold and put away the last load of laundry, the lawn was looking awesome, I'd changed the oil in her car at the quick lube place, and I'd double-checked the list before I returned with the groceries the day before.

"Corrie, please tell me what I did wrong!"

She slowly reached into a back pocket of her cut-off denim shorts. My eyes flew wide when I recognized the shape of the object she removed.

She grinned at me, clutching it in her fist.

"Corrie?" I whimpered.

She handed me a pregnancy test. I rotated it between my fingers and saw the obvious indication of a positive.

"What'd you do wrong?" she whispered, putting her hands on my hips. "Nothing, my love," she finally answered with a ravishingly happy smile.

"Oh, baby! Corrie! Baby! Are you sure?!"

She grinned, dimpling her cheeks. "Yes, Robin, we're going to have a baby."

"God! My

love

!" I grasped at her, pulling her tightly to me.

"You're going to be a daddy," she purred in my ear, wrapping her arms under mine.

"I won't be half as good a father as you will be a mother. We're going to have a baby?"

"We

are

. Are you happy?" she cried, her unchecked emotions gushing along with mine.

"More than I thought I could ever be. I love you so much!" I bawled in absolute joy.

My hectic day was completely forgotten as my beautiful wife drew me into our bed. We made slow, sensual, celebratory love. After dinner, we went at it again with shrieks of laughter and absolutely stunning joy in the knowledge our first child was growing inside her beautiful body.

December 24, 2009

"I love you, Robin," she whispered. "More now than ever."

"To the moon and back?" I asked after she kissed me warmly.

"Much, much farther," she answered. "I'm so glad you're home for good."

Corrie had graduated in May, but I stuck it out another semester because I wanted to earn minors in journalism and criminology. I spent the fall semester cramming the additional courses in and graduated two weeks before that night.

Corrie scored her dream job as an associate producer at one of the major TV network affiliates in Kansas City. She was employed as a media designer responsible for almost everything digital which appeared on-screen for the news broadcasts and station's commercials. All of the graphics and crawls used on screen, the weather styling, studio set pieces, even the musical stings and themes were her responsibility.

I scored my own dream job working for the Kansas City Star.

"Do you remember when I asked you to marry me?" I asked when we sat on her sofa in her apartment to cuddle under a blanket.

"I do," she said with a giggle, smiling warmly. "I even know what we had for lunch that day."

I chuckled. "

Lunch

? You remember

that

? What was it?"

"One of those nasty under-cooked rectangular oily cheese pizza shingle things, green peas, and chocolate pudding."

"Then it was on a Friday," I said, recalling the cyclical nature of our elementary school's cafeteria menu.

She smiled wistfully. "Looking back on that part of our lives, you were such a sweet boy."

"

Was

?"

"You've always been sweet to me, but now you're an even more incredibly sweet, handsome man," she said, kissing me softly, nibbling my lip a little.

"It's hard to believe we've known each other for as long as we have. A lot of thick and thin that whole time."

"But … the last four years? I don't think I could have gotten through them without you being there for me every step of the way."

"Same for me. I swear, if we had to pay for our cell minutes the way my parents whine they had to when cellphones first came out, it probably would have bankrupted the both of us."

"I think our calls and Skypes were the only way the whole long-distance relationship thing worked for us."

"I choose not to think like that. I prefer to think you and I could have made it through either way. Hell, we didn't even get to spend summers together."

"And now we're very much together," she said, and sighed pleasantly. She gave me another tender smooch.

She'd worked the three prior summers as an intern at two other studios, building an outstanding CV. My internships were all over the country, which meant she and I had only been reunited for a total of maybe three or four highly fragmented months during those four-plus years.

"Do you remember when you first realized you were more than my

bestest

friend?" she asked.

"I absolutely do. It was our junior year in high school when I broke my leg in the soccer game against Olathe and you visited me in the hospital. Seriously, Corrie, I can't tell you how much that meant to me," I said, thinking back. "How 'bout you?"

She laughed softly. "It was when I saw how you began looking at me differently when you returned to school a week later."

"What?"

"Yeah. It was when I noticed you looking at me with … very keen interest in your eyes."

I considered what she'd said. She was absolutely right.