Part one was about an imagined person with flaws, weaknesses and a willingness to trust until proven he no longer could. Once he realized how foolishly forgiving he had been he started the process of moving on. He didn't need to physically harm the guy, or worse, his wife. He didn't need to burn the house and leave said cheating wife destitute, there were children to consider. No, he simply implemented a plan to move on without being consumed by hatred and animosity. Something not easily done. Would you or I have done things differently, possibly, but the story isn't about you or me. It's about a guy who made mistakes, and from what I understand, the only people no longer making mistakes are either ashes or ground temperature.
To those who stick with me even when I offer a dud, thank you. I appreciated the comments about spelling and grammatical errors which I have diligently sought to correct in part two. To those who pointed out laws on inheritance, I can only say that I should have done more research. On that note I'll state that if you haven't read part one the following will make no sense.
Ridin the Storm Out
part two.
As I walked back to the hospital I chuckled to myself, not only had I become her personal punching bag but I was now a cowboy. This woman, I liked her more every time I was around her. I showered and changed before she got there, when she walked onto the porch I had a difficult time not drinking her in with my eyes. Gosh she looked great in a bright red summer dress, her hair was done up and it was obvious she'd put on a little makeup. Taking the pizza I caught a whiff of her perfume, I immediately felt a twitch in my jeans.
Walking to the kitchen with her right behind I was constantly scolding myself. Calm down you fool. Stop acting some high school perv. Be happy she dressed up and leave it at that dipshit. She didn't come here to get screwed. Get to know her, who knows where this might end. I grabbed plates while she grabbed beer, looking at one another I gestured toward the porch, she smiled, nodded and said.
"Perfect."
As the sun began dipping beneath the horizon she stood and moved her chair closer to mine. Looking at me she nodded her head toward the house.
"Get me another beer? Please?" I nodded and stood, "Thanks Cal, you're a nice guy."
When I returned I caught sight of a second button open on the dress, and, the hem seemed to be above the knees. Hmm, was she flirting with me? If she was I sure as hell liked it. We were on our second beer watching the fireflies putting on a show as we talked. At one point she reached out and put her hand on top of mine.
"Do you remember what we talked about last week? You know, the physical part of marriage?"
"I do. Why?"
"Do you ever think about being with someone full time? In a meaningful relationship, to include sex. Were you serious when you said you hadn't been with a woman since your divorce?"
I nodded, "What about you. Was it only the one guy whom you didn't let finish?"
She scoffed, "Yeah, that was a mistake. Much too early in being a widow, should have never gone out with the guy. It was a disaster, but that was then, this is now. To answer your question, yes, there's only been the once."
I was a bit confused and figured the best thing to do was ask.
"You said that was then, this is now. What exactly do you mean?"
She stared out over the lake for what seemed like an eternity before taking a swig and turning to look at me.
"It means that I have feelings for you Cal, feelings I haven't had for years, make that many years. I'm not saying we should jump into bed, that would just ruin it, what I'm saying is I would like to know you. Find out what makes you tick, stuff like that. If you're all that I think you are, I would like to reach the point where we can enjoy an intimate physical relationship."
It was my turn to stare out into darkness before I answered.
"I would very much like that as well Lynn. I find myself battling hormonal thoughts about you more than I probably should. I find you attractive, interesting, fun to be with and I'm gradually beginning to accept being your personal punching bag. I'm willing to give it a try if you are."
She belly laughed, "Punching bag. That's hilarious. I don't know why I do that, but know this, it only happens with people I am extremely comfortable with. You're one of the few. How are we gonna do this?"
I thought a moment, "Why don't we start Saturday. I'll come over and help with firewood, I'll take you out for dinner and maybe we can visit for a while before I leave."
She took my hand in hers, "I like that idea with one addition. Bring clothes to spend the night."
My face must have given away my hopes.
"No, we aren't going to roll around in bed and screw like bunnies. But I wouldn't mind snuggling and maybe necking a bit. Do they even call it that anymore? I mean necking. Would you be open to that idea?"
I wasn't going to hold back any longer. I leaned over the arm of the chair, took her chin in hand and kissed her. Soft, long, no tongues, just simple passion. When I pulled back I asked, "Do you mean like that."
She let out a deep breath. "Damn, I haven't been kissed like that in decades. Not to be gross but my nipples are hard and it isn't because I'm cold. Yes, just like that. Now that we know we make each other's motor run I should be going, it isn't that I don't trust you, it's that I don't trust me. Walk me to the truck."
We kissed at the truck, my hand was on the small of her back. I dropped it a little, squeezed her ass and patted it. She laughed.
"An ass patter. I love it. Jerry always did that to me. I think we're going to get along well. See you Saturday."