I'd like to thank kenjisato, again, for great editing. If you find any mistakes, it's probably something I did after editing.
Active sexual activity only involves characters over the age of eighteen. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Names have been changed to protect the innocent and my bank account.
The Beach House
Widowed father of twins finds love again.
It was 1991, and I held my twin daughters' hands as we walked into our beach house, the first time since we lost Shiloh Lynnanne Grayson, my wife. She had then been gone two years, having died of an aggressive cancer just four months after being diagnosed. The doctors had told me it was from exposure to carcinogens that were present at her workplace. I had lawyers working on lawsuits against her employer; the building owner; the former occupants of the building; and anybody my lawyers could put a name on a legal brief. WHY? Because I had two almost twelve-year-old twin daughters, Faith Lynn and Grace Ann, who had not had a mother for two years, and I had not had a wife for two years! It would still be some time before we got any money.
Sorry, I do get mad at times. My name is Robert John Grayson, Bob.
Our love
Shiloh and I had met in college, at a weekly, old-movie festival held in the student union; it was horror movie night and she and her girlfriend had sat down next to me. The movie was 'Psycho', she and her friend were chit-chatting like all the other students were, since this was a social event where a movie just happened to be showing. Shiloh was a dazzler; she had blonde hair, bright blue eyes, curves where they belong, and nice B-cup breasts (my kryptonite).
Shiloh had never seen 'Psycho', so when the stabbing scene came on, Shiloh jumped into my lap, and buried her head into my neck— she was actually shaking. I instinctively wrapped my arms around her and held her 'til she stopped shaking.
She was very red-faced when I let go of her, saying, "I'm sorry."
I said, "I'm not sorry. Would you like to go for a bite to eat after the movie?"
Shiloh's friend whispered, "Say yes."
My roommate who was sitting on the other side of me just said, "You, son of a bitch, you just had a hot girl fall in your lap, and now you are going out with her."
Going out with her, indeed. This was the start of a forever-soulmate connection, or so we thought.
Mr. Bob Grayson and Mrs. Shiloh Grayson
We finished college, got married, and both of us got wonderful jobs. I was working for an accounting firm with my Bachelor of Arts in Accounting. I was heavily recruited and put into a managerial position because of employees having left the company; retirements, terminations, just quitting, and such.
Shiloh used her Bachelor of Arts in Business Administration to become a Human Resources Manager, her workspace was in a remodeled manufacturing facility— it was what was left behind that caused Shiloh's cancer.
We both received a contract bonus for signing, and with it, we bought a beach house just before we became pregnant, a year into our marriage.
We were a typical newlywed couple, we made love frequently. You'd think we were on a yearlong honeymoon. Within months, we knew each other's joys and wants when it came to our lovemaking.
As for her pregnancy, since she had a basically a 'sit and work' job, she worked until almost her due date.
We had many memories of when the girls were little at the beach house— we had many
:
sandcastles and bonfires; caught little crabs and collected seashells; watched the sunsets; we tried to fish; played in the surf, trying to surf; and getting a tan. Shiloh would wear her bikini with pride. Even after the girls came, her body was still beautiful, you would never believe she had carried twins. The beach house became our refuge from the everyday world— the hustle and bustle of our lives; no bosses; no underlings; and once the girls were asleep, we enjoyed our love life.
The girls had a seashell collection to take to show-and-tell. Their "What I did on my summer vacation" essays were always about the beach house and the boardwalk along the town beach. The arcade, the carousel, and the ice cream parlor, there was always something to write about.
Before the girls were born, Shiloh would sunbathe topless on our deck since we had a solid half wall around it. Needless to say, after her sunbathing, we always had a great session of lovemaking. We kidded each other that one wild night after Shiloh's sunbathing, we conceived the twins.
Shiloh's pregnancy was uneventful, I would take off work early and pick up Shiloh almost everyday. When the time came, I was in the delivery room and cut two umbilical cords; after the nurses cleaned up the girls, I helped guide our babies to a breast each. When the girls were finished nursing, they were given to me to rock— they had a special rocker just for twins. The nurses had me take off my shirt; they said it was called skin-on-skin contact. With their little bodies, they snuggled up to me; it was the first of many snuggles we would share, especially after we lost Shiloh. Even at ten years old, the girls would pull my shirt up so they could snuggle up to me, skin-on-skin. The night when we lost Shiloh, we spent the whole night snuggling and crying.
When my girls were babies and toddlers, I took my Faith and Grace to work with me every day, and dropped them off at the company's daycare. I ate lunch with the girls and Shiloh would fix dinner with the girls' help (at an early age the girls' help was just giggling). By the time we lost Shiloh, the girls could cook full meals. Shiloh's workday finished an hour earlier than mine, so she would pick up our girls early. As the girls got older in elementary school, they would take the school bus to my company's daycare.
I had Faith and Grace checked for any signs of Shiloh's illness— they always tested negative.
My girls were not just sisters, but best friends, too.
Shiloh and I had many talks about what was to come after she was diagnosed; we talked about college for the girls. What her dreams were for Faith and Grace.
Before Shiloh left my world, she made me promise to find love again, to find a woman who Faith and Grace could look up to as a mother and a strong woman.
When Shiloh passed, I had to be the
Big Strong Daddy
for my girls, and I aced it! For me, many times at night, my pillow would catch my tears. The girls were just past ten years of age, when I took them to see a counselor; after a year, they were lessening their time needed with her. For me, after two years, I still saw the counselor once a week and sometimes twice. Going back to the beach house was our counselor's idea.
My girls, one on each side, walked with me through the beach house and on the grounds. I had a company that had cleaned the house and had kept up the grounds for the last two-plus years. We had all seen the counselor before leaving, and her advice was to remember the good times; she had us make a list of happy times and told us to read it aloud whenever we felt down. Believe it or not, it brought me out of a funk a number of times.
********
I had built up a big reserve of vacation days. So, I was taking four weeks' vacation. Plus, I was able to get two more weeks, by working remotely for a couple of days a week from the beach house.
