It was late in the slate gray afternoon when Diane returned from church, but she was full of the spirit as she opened the front door and turned on the lights in the foyer of her beautiful home. Nearly fifteen years after the miracle, and she still felt blessed every time she entered the four bedroom, two living room exurban beauty. Never more than at this time of year, as the weather turned colder and it was such a joy to be inside!
Or maybe it was just that Tim was due in just another hour or so.
Though she still felt horribly guilty about it, Diane no longer even tried to deny the tingling between her thighs as the clock wound down to Tim. Checking her watch, she even wondered if there was time to do anything about that tingling. She ought to at least change into a sexier outfit, she thought, looking down at her dowdy skirt and blouse. Something better suited to Halloween, at least. But then she didn't want to come on too hard to poor, sweet Tim.
Or did she?
That Diane had felt compelled to go talk to Father Atkins on a Friday afternoon was most directly related to the impending arrival of her daughter's old friend for the holiday weekend. The poor dear simply didn't like staying on campus when things got so crazy there, and Diane needed someone to rearrange some of the books in her newly remodeled library. It had been so very easy to convince his parents to let her welcome him to her home while they were off on their second honeymoon in the Caribbean. It had been even easier to invite her daughter home for the weekend as well, knowing perfectly well that Christie was not going to fly back from London just to see the boy she had so foolishly kept at arm's length all through high school.
It had not been so easy for Diane to deny her own prurient interest in having the young man to herself. But she had done so, instead couching her guilt in terms of her past instead of her immediate future. "Sometimes I still get panicked if I wake up at night," she had told Father Atkins that afternoon. "If I open my eyes I'm sure I'm going to find myself back in one of those dives I used to live in, and Christie sleeping next to me instead of in her own room!"
"I think we all feel that way now and then, Diane," he'd said. "After what you and Christie had to live through before you came here, it's perfectly natural to be scared of going back. Have you tried reminding yourself that it was your own hard work and pluck that got you here?"
Have I ever tried that!
Diane thought now, as she hung up her coat and set about making last minute preparations for Tim's visit.
Only every minute of every day for the past fifteen years!
But now was a time for being grateful rather than questioning. It was her home, all right, and she wanted everything perfect for Tim.
And what a home it is, Diane thought to herself as she took a look around the brightly colored room and savored her peaceful sanctuary. The big and expensive house was filled throughout with only the most tasteful and economical of furniture, though there was plenty of it. Since the miracle, with one exception she had avoided the rags-to-riches temptations to a garish, tasteless lifestyle. The one exception was that, after years of subsisting on peanut butter and canned soup at the end of each month, she had taken to eating a lot, and it showed in her full figure. Diane had made some efforts to diet early on, but had come to realize she enjoyed being plump after the many lean years. There was something almost empowering in having a large behind and a robust belly and not being ashamed. Most of all, the F-cup breasts that jutted majestically out from her chest were a kick, although they did mean her days of going braless even at home were over. But she welcomed that inconvenience for the most part.
She had caught Tim admiring them out of the corner of his eye enough times to know he thought so too. Now, as Diane retired to the kitchen to make sure she had put a bottle of chardonnay in to chill (Tim was not quite twenty, but he'd always been quite mature for his age, and after all it was their private party at home), she couldn't resist imagining his gentle young hands caressing them. Diane put two glasses in the freezer to finalize the preparations, and then decided she just had to get one off before he arrived.
Before she had even made it out of the kitchen, though, the doorbell rang. He was early! Diane was a bit disappointed that there was no time to change into anything sexier, but maybe Tim still liked the businesswoman look? She did seem to recall him admiring her in her work clothes more than once in the past. She slipped off her shoes to add a touch of intimacy to her formal appearance, and opened the door.
There he stood on the stoop, with that shy grin that had always melted Diane's heart but had somehow never gotten through to her daughter. Older now, no more the gangly awkward teenager she remembered so well, but still unmistakably the sweet boy who'd been so very good to Christie whenever some silly jock had blown her off again. "Hi, Ms. Prentiss," he said, and extended his hand.
"Tim!" she exclaimed, beckoning him inside. "You're not getting away with just a handshake, you know that!" She enveloped him in a smothering embrace and had no qualms about hanging on much longer than she would have with an ordinary hello. "It's so lovely to see you! I'm just sorry Christie isn't here to see you as well!" A white lie, but then Christie never knew the treasure she'd had in Tim anyway.
"How is Christie?" he asked when she had finally released him.
"Loving every bit of her trip. She sends her regards and she's sorry she couldn't be here for the weekend as well." Another lie; the silly girl had only said she couldn't come home just for the weekend, not even a word of regret for missing Tim.
"That's sweet, thanks," Tim said. "I was hoping she'd make it back for the weekend, too. But I don't suppose she dresses up for Halloween anymore?"
"She did last year," Diane said. "But enough about that, Tim..."
"Right, of course," he said. "The books. Let's get started."
"No!" she said. "Tim, you just got here and we've got all weekend for that! Come sit for a while first! I want to catch up, and honestly, I just want to get a look at you!" Truer word was never spoken, she thought, taking a seat on the couch and patting the cushion next to her. "You've grown so much, you know."
"Well, thanks!" Tim looked a bit nervous, but he did sit down as directed. "It's nice to see you too, Ms. Prentiss, but I have to admit I wasn't expecting this. I figured I was just doing you a favor with the books."
"Call me Diane. I'm not just your friend's mother, I'm your friend too." At least.
"Diane." Tim rolled her name around on his tongue and then grinned nervously at her. "That'll take a little getting used to when you knew me since I was thirteen, but I'll try! Thanks!"
"Thirteen?" Diane asked. "Were you really that young the first time Christie brought you home?"
"I'm pretty sure I was. Seventh grade. Hated that school, the new kid in town and everyone else being so rich while my parents were brand new in the money. Christie was practically the only one who didn't look down on me, you know."