My Number

The Thanksgiving weekend rolled by pleasantly. It was sunny, and cool but not cold. The Parkers' harvest was already in, and Dave walked me around the farm, with cut cornstalks and some of the debris of harvest that I really didn't understand. There was the hard-packed lane which led down to the dock, and we had to go there, since that was where Dave and I got engaged, and we walked along the riverbank some, and then up the fence line. We talked about important things and we talked about silly stuff and everything was just calm and pleasant. I'd never thought about living on a farm, but if this was what life was like out in the country, it must be wonderful.

So, for the weekend, I helped with the dishes and the cooking – which helped me a lot, because I'm not exactly the best cook around – and on Saturday, the guys were glued to the TV, as UK upset Louisville 41-38 in football. U of L had a Heisman Trophy candidate at quarterback, Lamar Jackson, but with Louisville driving for the go-ahead touchdown, Jackson fumbled at UK's 10 yard line. I was in the kitchen at the time – I'm not much of a football fan – when the living room exploded as UK recovered that fumble. A quick drive, and then UK kicked a field goal to win it.

Believe it or not, I actually helped with a quilt! Mrs Parker liked to sew them up from scrap pieces of material, and she showed me how to do it. I mean, I didn't get all that much done, and I sure wasn't fast, but it was kind of fun. I'd probably get too bored if I had to do the whole thing myself, but working on one corner wasn't bad at all.

On Sunday, Mrs Parker drove us back to Lexington. We needed to get back, of course, and she wanted to see our apartment. I was really glad that Dave and I had cleaned it before we left, before my mother got there, but Dave insists that we keep it neat; it's small, and once all of my stuff got moved it, it's so jam-packed that almost anything left out makes the place look like a mess.

Of course, Mrs Parker wanted to see if there was anything in particular we needed, especially for the kitchen, and yeah, there was plenty of stuff we could have used, but there wasn't much room to put more stuff in there.

Eric and Amanda came over that Sunday, and it was just like the last time: some talking, some laughing, playing cards, and a fun time, but really nothing special or out of the ordinary. Amanda did whisper to me that she needed to see me Monday, alone, so I kept that one to myself. After Eric left, I told Dave that I had to ditch him Monday afternoon for whatever it was Amanda wanted.

It turned out to be a big issue. Amanda had gone home without Eric for Thanksgiving, and she ran into an old boyfriend. Some drinking on Friday, and one thing led to another, and yup, Amanda slept with him.

"Does Eric know?" I had to ask.

"No, he doesn't."

"You going to tell him?"

"Oh, Hell no! He doesn't need to know that."

"How bad would he take it if he found out?"

"Oh, I don't know, but probably pretty badly. Yeah, he knows I've done a lot of screwing around before, but I haven't slept with anybody but him since we started going out, and with us in the same dorm, he pretty much knows that."

"Do you want to keep him for a boyfriend? I mean, why'd you screw your old boyfriend if you do?"

"Can I blame it on the booze? Hell, Marcy, I had dated him for about six months, and he was a good time, in bed and out, but he sure isn't anyone you'd stay with for a long time. I think he might have had a girlfriend already, but she wasn't there, and I was, and we just fell into the same shit we used to do. But yeah, I think I do want to keep Eric. He's fun, too, in a weird, nerdy way, and he's responsible and respectable and he has a solid future in front of him. Thing is, he's perfect future husband material, but not so much exciting boyfriend material. I can just see myself, married to Eric, then every once in a while running into some hot guy and getting my brains fucked out, and fucking everything up."

"Well, wow, just wow."

"I know, I know. Eric's even decent in bed, and getting better, but I still had to lay right down for Dylan when the chance came. I'm just an awful person."

"No, you're not, you just made a mistake, is all. You'll get over this."

"Yeah, right, and how would you be feeling is all of a sudden you took Eli into a dark corner somewhere?"

"Like shit, I imagine."

"And would you tell Dave?"

"Oh, no, Hell no! It would kill him."

"How much more have you told Dave about your past?"

"Nothing really. Dave knows I have a past, but he never asks about it, and if he isn't going to ask, I sure as Hell won't volunteer it. I mean, I've been trying to just wipe my past clean, and it's pretty much working; I haven't been worried about it nearly as much as I used to be."

"That your way of saying I shouldn't tell Eric about this?"

"I sure wouldn't, at least not right now. If it turns out that you can live with it keeping it a secret, go for it. If you feel that you've got to tell him, well, good luck. But Eric and you haven't made the commitment that Dave and I have, so yeah, I think you can just let it go for now."

"I don't know, Marcy, 'cause it's eating me up inside. I can talk to you about it, but I get eaten up with guilt every time I see Eric or talk to him."

"Listen, back when I was still in high school, I remember a Hallowe'en party just before my parents broke up. All of the grown-ups were downstairs, in a basement bar, and they were all drink and joking, and anyway, somehow it came up about people's 'numbers.' I remember my mom saying that no matter what it really was, you always told your partner that it was five. Not too slutty a number, but big enough that you could have known everything you knew in bed. Everyone laughed at that, including my dad, so I guess that he knew my mom's real number. Of course, her number kept going up and up, and they broke up not too much longer after that.

"Strange thing is, now that she's divorced, I don't think she's been screwing around nearly as much, and I know that she knows that she's made a huge mistake."

"Your dad remarry?"

"No, at least not that I know of. I don't even think he's been seeing anyone. It's just sad, for both of them."

After that, Amanda and I caught up on small talk. We wound up back at Blanding, and I caught up with some of my old floor-mates, girls who just couldn't believe how much I'd changed. The old slut Marcy was gone, and here I was engaged to a guy who'd been a virgin when I met him. (Amanda had already told them that part of the story.) Some of them still didn't believe it. There were a couple of comments about me not having an engagement ring, but I had never worried about that. Before I met Dave, yeah, the whole idea that a man wouldn't get me an engagement ring would have been unthinkable, but now, now that I was with Dave, my whole mindset had changed: we weren't wasting money on something pretty, but useless.

Then Sarah asked, "Is you being with Dave why you looked so annoyed when Brandon was in the shower a few weeks ago, commenting about, you know, you shaving?"

"Yeah, kind of. You still seeing him?"

"Not anymore. He's pretty much of a waste case. He's fun, but all he wants to do is drink, smoke weed and fuck. Fun for a night or two, but I'd never get attached to him."

After that, I had a long walk back to the apartment, over a mile, I'm sure, and that gave me plenty of time to think. There was no way I was going to tell Dave about Amanda screwing around on Eric, because Dave might let that slip. If Amanda wants to tell him, that's her decision, and I'm not going to undermine that.

But there was more. I hadn't felt an urge to screw around on Dave, none at all, even though a couple of guys had made passes at me. Then again, I was almost always with Dave; what would happen if we were separated for a bit, and some hot guy made a move on me?

No. Not just no, but Hell no, I was never going to screw around on Dave! That destroyed my parents' marriage, and it might mess up whatever Eric and Amanda have going. It's just not worth it, not ever.

The weeks passed, and then the end of the semester, and Christmas break, were upon us. Dave and I had to study hard, because finals were brutal. We were both taking 18 hours, six classes, when most students only took five. Dave's only a sophomore, so his exams weren't quite as tough as mine, but they were still hard enough. But, that was one great thing about us living together: we weren't out wasting time looking for people, and we could help each other. It might not seem all that effective a studying technique, but when we both had reading to do, it was like we had always been doing, one on each end of the couch, with my feet in Dave's lap, just enough to keep us both happy, and that didn't make studying seem like such a chore.

And the sex! OMG, it was wonderful! We had tailed off a little bit, but once finals week arrived, we were like rabbits, every morning and every night, and that sure put us in better moods for the tests themselves.

UK had a 3½ week break between the Fall and Spring semesters. We'd spent the Thanksgiving holidays with Dave's parents, so it was my mom's turn for Christmas. We wound down from the semester over the weekend, and then on Monday the 19th, we headed up to Shelbyville. The plan was to stay there through the 26th, and then head for Dave's parents after that. This would be the first Christmas that their son wouldn't be there on Christmas morning, and I knew that bothered them, but their little boy was a man now, a man beginning his life's journey with a family of his own.

Of course, my mom was delighted to see us, and, like the Parkers, had no objection to us sleeping together even though we weren't married yet. The house was neat and clean, but mom still had to work, so she was gone from like 7:30 until after 5:00. I took Dave around town, and showed him my old high school, and where we'd all hang out. We went to a couple of the places, but I'd been gone for almost three years, and nobody there really knew me. The high school seniors of today were freshmen when I was here last.

On Thursday, we drove over to see my dad. He had moved to the east end of Louisville, which was a lot closer to where he worked. Naturally, he was overjoyed to see his little girl – I could be 60, and I'd still be his little girl! – and meet her fiancé. After dinner, I kind of shooed Dave into the living room, so I could talk to my dad.

"Dad, I've got to know: how are you doing? I mean, I don't hear from you, and it seems like you're just really lonely here."

"Well, Marcella" – dad was the only one who ever called me that. I hated that name, but he could get away with it – "yeah, it can get lonely, but I'm doing OK. I've got friends from work, and we go out on the weekends, so I'm doing alright."

"Dad, you're going to think I'm meddling, and maybe this is just plain out-of-line, but mom's lonely, too."

"So?"

"Maybe you could think about giving her a call, and maybe going out?"

"Listen, Marcella, every child wants her parents to get back together, but you know how things were."

"Yeah, I do, I heard the fights, and I know that you put up with a Hell of a lot, but that was five years ago. Mom isn't doing that shit anymore, and she knows just how badly she blew it. I don't know how you can possibly forgive her, but if you could, if there was any way possible, maybe you could try. Please? It would be the best thing for both of you.

"I mean, everybody makes mistakes, and mom made some big ones, but it's Christmas, and that's a time for forgiveness. It'd be hard, I know, but I think that it would be worth it."

I don't know, maybe I had said too much, but both my mom and dad were just lonely. I had been thinking about this ever since Amanda told me she'd cheated on Eric, and how she'd learned her lesson, and I was just praying that my mom had and that daddy could forgive her, one more time.

Thing is, Amanda had cheated on Eric just the once, while my mom had done it a lot more. I know that my dad's pride was hurt, really hurt, but he was hurting just living by himself, in a small apartment. Deep down, he and mom still needed each other. I just didn't know if it was possible, if there was any hope.

The visit to my dad's was depressing, and I talked to Dave about it on the way back to Shelbyville, though I left out the part about Amanda cheating on Eric.

It was kind of weird. Dave didn't have any problem with making love to me at his parents' house, but, I don't know, maybe because it was kind of lonely and depressing, he just wasn't very interested in making love to me at my mom's house. The bathroom was between my bedroom and mom's, so it wasn't like we'd be heard – as long as I didn't get too carried away! I can be noisy at times – but he really wasn't very interested, even when mom was out of the house at work. We'd gone a whole week without, and finally I practically raped him.

Once we got started, thanks to his morning wood, he got back into the swing of things. I hadn't given him any choice: I just climbed on top of him and took him inside of me, without kissing, without any warning, without any preliminaries. It was a good thing that I was so horny that my climax built up inside me really quickly, because after a week of no sex, Dave's orgasm was building up really quickly. He was trying to hold back, but as soon as he saw me going off, he let loose as well.

And that pretty much broke the ice for us. After that, we got back to normal, even better than normal, because now I was getting laid every morning, once mom left for work, and a couple of nights as well. The only thing was that it was strictly in the bedroom; I tried to entice him in the living room, but he wouldn't have any of that, not in my mom's house.

Christmas morning broke sunny and cold, and even though mom was in the house, Dave and I made love. It was slower and quieter, good old missionary style, Dave making sure that my mom wouldn't hear us, but it was long and languid and just amazingly good. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth a few times, as climax after climax washed over me, not as intensely as sometimes, but just wonderfully satisfying. Finally, I could see it building up in Dave, and I reached down, grabbed his cute ass, and just pulled him as deep inside me as I could. Our pubic bones were jammed together, which sent another shock wave through me, and I could see Dave clamping his jaw shut to avoid screaming as he emptied himself into me.

Once the tension was gone, and he unlocked his elbows, I could reach up and pull his wonderful face down for kiss after kiss. Dave has the most amazing smile, a Tom Cruise smile, and I can always tell when he's happy, and boy was he happy this Christmas morning! And I was, too.

Even though we always slept naked, I had some pajamas in my old chest of drawers, so I pulled them on; Dave had to wear his jeans and a t-shirt to go downstairs for the morning. Mom was already up, with sausage in the frying pan and biscuits in the oven. She greeted us with a happy smile, more than I'd seen from her since we'd been there. I know that I was smiling, too, and when Dave stepped out of the kitchen for a moment, she whispered to me, "I heard you guys this morning. Sounds like you had better keep this one."

OMG, I couldn't believe that my mother had said that to me, but she was still smiling, and I was smiling, and she was as happy for me as I was.

My mom has to watch every penny, and Christmas is no different from any other time of the year. The presents were simple and mostly inexpensive. She had gotten Dave a nice sweater and some sort of long-sleeved grey undershirt, one that looked lightweight but still warm. I was pretty sure he'd like it, because he needed it. Dave didn't have a proper coat, but only wore these insulated vests, no matter how cold it was, and he rolled his shirt sleeves up to just below his elbow. He didn't seem to mind the cold on his forearms, but this kind of shirt would come down to his wrists, even when he rolled up the outer shirt sleeves. It would look good with his plaid flannels; he had several of those.

Me? Mom had gotten me a couple of nice sweaters, and then I opened the bigger box: she'd spent way too much, buying me some absolutely awesome boots, boots which were slender on the leg but went all the way to my knees. I'd looked at boots like this before, and always left without buying, because they cost so much.

Of course, Dave and I have to pinch pennies, too, but we got my mom a Keurig coffee maker. I knew that she wanted one, and we managed to scrape the money up to buy her one.

Mom had to work again on the day after Christmas, the dreaded sale and returns/exchanges day for retailers. We saw her off, and then got ready to head back to Lexington. We'd put away our Christmas presents, and grab the stuff we'd gotten for Dave's family, before heading to the farm.

Dave thought my new boots looked sexy on me, but there can be way too much mud on his parents' farm to wear them, so it was my hiking boots and old Converse Chuck Taylor All Stars for me. Hey, I was wearing the tennis shoes the night I met Dave, so I think they're pretty good luck! We grabbed the presents for Dave's family, which weren't all that much, and headed down to Estill County.

When we pulled into the parking area beside the barn, we got a surprise: a big old black lab galumphed up to greet us. It turned out that Dave's sister had rescued the dog from a shelter, but she couldn't keep it at her apartment, so, surprise, it had a new home on the farm. The dog was hugely friendly, and practically knocked me down jumping up on its hind legs and putting his front paws on my arms. If I had been carrying anything, it would be on the ground by now.

Once inside, we put our presents for Dave's family under the tree, and opened our own. Dave's sister had gotten me a flannel shirt that was actually my size, instead of the huge ones of Dave's I'd had to wear at times, and his mom gave me an iPad loaded up with recipes. Dave's father gave us what we needed most of all: cash!

Our presents to them were mostly simple, sweaters and stuff, but Dave had found an old-time hand plane that he bought for his father. It had cost something like $5.00, but it was something his dad would use and appreciate.

There was no specific lunch or dinner that day; it was you're on your own, fix yourself a leftover turkey sandwich. Dave made his a way I'd never seen before, with turkey – he preferred the dark meat – mayo, cranberry sauce and salt. I had to steal a bite, and it was pretty good.

"So, what are y'all doing for New Year's eve?" Mrs Parker asked me.

"You know, we haven't really given it any thought, unless Dave has some sort of surprise for me." That got me to thinking: I knew that New Year's eve was approaching, and I was supposed to be a total party girl, and the idea of not going out and drinking and dancing for that would have shocked me, but now, I had no plans at all. What has this boy done to me?

The days passed, and New Year's eve rolled around. Everything was nice and pleasant and comfortable. Finally, Dave asked me if I wanted to go out somewhere for New Year's eve, and I said no, I wanted to just stay right here with him. We couldn't go to a bar, anyway, because Dave isn't 21, and while he might be able to find a private party with his friends, his family were the only people I knew around here. Once there weren't any other ears around, I whispered to Dave that the only thing I wanted to be doing at midnight was to have him inside me. He liked that answer, liked it a lot.

It was around 5:15, and we were all sitting down to supper; the leftovers were long exhausted. Supper was some chicken, roasted with lemon and spices, nothing I've ever had before, but it was really good. My cell buzzed, indicating a text message, and I opened it. It was from my mom: