That Summer - Alice's Story

By extremely popular and somewhat emphatic demand, here is the companion to my story "That Summer." This is not a sequel by the traditional definition but there was some part of my story that was begging to be told after I completed it. I only ever intended to make it a stand alone story and honestly, I think it best represented all I wanted; the song, a brief but intense summer romance and the longings left behind.

So thank you if you were one who sent me positive feedback and I hope you enjoy this installment. Hopefully it answers any lingering questions you may have had. Though I will warn you now, this is all there will be to "That Summer," any more and it would lose some of its magic. My apologies if you disagree but that is my opinion.

Happy Reading!

M.

***

Most nights I never thought about it.

It was a long time ago and it did me no good to dwell on the past. I missed him of course and I could never forget the way he made me feel when he held me in his arms. But dwelling on that and missing him didn't change the fact that I had a farm to run and a life to live.

I lived alone on the farm for months after my husband's death. Many neighbors and family members spent a lot of time "checking in" on me that first year, ensuring I was eating - as if I'd starve myself because Todd had died - and making sure I wasn't working too hard. Well, there wasn't much I could do about the work unfortunately and so I accepted much of their help with gratitude.

After that first summer alone on the Square One, I decided to start hiring help for the busy months. Family and friends had more than enough suggestions for young men and high school boys looking for work throughout the summer months. For the next five years, I hired on three or four to help me. But then the profits began to drop off and I couldn't afford to keep more than one or two. After another two years, I could barely keep a single helper on hand for three months in the summer.

It was beginning to feel hopeless at that point. How was I supposed to keep a farm running and successful if I couldn't get enough help to keep it running day to day?

The house began to suffer for the loss first; shutters falling off hinges and the porch steps creaking ominously season after season. Soon there were leaks in some spots of the roof and instead of patching them, I merely shut up the rooms and avoided them altogether. I ate little through those two years, keeping to simple fare like potatoes and salad every night, food I could make using what I grew myself.

I eventually began to sell off the stock, first some of the smaller cattle, getting some profit off their pedigrees; Square One had been known for generations as an excellent source of breeding stock. I thinned the herd down to a more manageable number and still couldn't seem to make enough.

That spring of 1976 I came to a decision; I'd have to sell the Square One. It broke my heart to let it go but without Todd around to work his magic, I was left with little choice. I could use the proceeds from the sale to get a nice place in town and do something different for a living, something I actually enjoyed. So for the last season, I decided to hire only one person to help clean up the place, do repairs and maintenance that had been so woefully neglected over the years.

While in town one day, I ran into Madeleine Harvey, a woman who'd known my mother for years. We chatted lightly on the street corner with the sun sparkling brightly over our heads. Eventually the conversation turned to the farm and I admitted sadly to the older woman that this would be my last summer there.

"Oh dear," she exclaimed, her ready smile fading from her wrinkled face. She smiled weakly and patted my arm. "Are you sure that's what you really want?"

"Whether I want it or not, I have little choice," I replied. Although touched by her sympathy, I couldn't help the twinge of annoyance I felt at her tone. Everyone I'd come across in recent weeks had given me the same reaction when told of my plans for the Square One, though not always the same exact words; "You can't sell the Jenkins farm!" or "Oh, but Todd never would never have sold the Square One." Well, Todd just wasn't around anymore was he?

"I suppose it has been difficult for you since Todd passed," Madeleine said with a nod. "If you need anything, dear, just let me know. I'm only a few miles away."

I laughed lightly and nodded. "Thank you Madeleine. Actually, if you know of anyone looking to get a job for the summer, I haven't hired anyone yet."

"You're still hiring someone for the summer?" She said, her brows drawing together in concentration. "I might know of someone. My friend Rachel, her niece has a college-age boy who's coming home for the summer apparently."

"Oh? And they live around here?"

"They're in the city," Madeleine replied. "Would you like me to have Rachel's niece call you?"

"Absolutely. You still have my number?"

"Yes, dear. I'll tell her to call you this week."

"Thank you very much, Madeleine. I'll talk to you later!" And with that, I turned around and headed for home.

Sure enough, that very weekend a woman named Janet called me. We spoke for a while, discussing many things. She'd actually grown up in the same town and we'd gone to the same schools, although she was quite a bit older than me. Still, it was nice to reminisce.

"So I understand you are looking to hire someone on for the summer?" Janet asked after some time.

"Yes, I own a farm called Square One," I explained quickly what type of farm it was and what kind of work I'd be getting my helper to do all summer.

"Well, my son Erik is just coming home from his first year of college in another week and my husband and I are trying to find something for him to do," she said.

"How old is he?" I had to ask.

"Nineteen last month," Janet told me. "He's a good boy." Something in her tone made me smile, as though she was trying to convince herself that he was as she said.

"But...?" I prompted gently, letting the question hang in the air. I'd hired on some pretty tough kids in the past years, some had just had bad attitudes but there had been a couple who'd had a brush with the law; vandalism, theft, basic teenage boy stuff that I could hardly blame them for since I'd met Todd when he'd been living through the same phase.

On the other end of the phone, Janet sighed and I could almost see her readjusting her position as we spoke.

"We made a deal with him at the beginning of his school year," she began. "We would pay for the year so long as he kept his grades up. If he couldn't, then we'd find him a job during the summer to pay for his own tuition."

"Sound fair," I put in, sipping my coffee and tapping my toe against the leg of the kitchen table.

"I thought so too," she agreed and sighed again. "But we just found out a week ago that he failed two classes."

"Oh dear."

"Yes. So we've been scrambling, trying to find him work for the summer. My husband is going to pick him up from school this weekend and we have to have something lined up or he'll just mope around all summer."

In spite of myself I chuckled. I had no wish to offend Janet by laughing, but I could just picture another teenage boy coming home to a summer of lectures and guilt from his parents.

"Well, he won't have an easy time of it here," I warned her after a moment. "Its decent pay but he'll earn every penny of it."

"Good!" She exclaimed and then laughed at herself. "Don't get me wrong, I love my son but he's had a rough year. I think it might do him some good to get out of the city and do something productive for a change."

"It'll be productive, that's for sure," I replied with a laugh of my own. Inside my head though I was listing all the things around the house and property that would need repairs before this place would be fit for sale.

Janet and I chatted for a while longer, making arrangements for her husband to drive Erik to Square One the first weekend in June. She gave me their phone number and we wished each other well for a nice summer.

***

The days passed by quickly and before I knew it, I had another call from Janet, informing me that her husband and son were en route to my farm. They'd be arriving in less than three hours. I thanked her and hung up the phone. I headed to the tiny room above the garage and tidied up, throwing fresh sheets on the bed and adding another heavy blanket. It could get very cold in this room at night and I didn't want to be responsible for killing the kid.

Then I headed downstairs to start something for dinner. It was already late in the afternoon and by the time they arrived, it'd be the dinner hour. So I put something together and threw it in the oven to cook. Another hour passed as I went over the accounting books for the farm in the kitchen.

At last I heard a car approaching up the long driveway. I stowed the books in a cupboard and made my way to the front of the house as a knock sounded on the front door. I walked to the door and opened it to see an older man, Janet's husband and Erik's father standing there, smiling broadly at me. I returned the smile before my eyes slid to the face of the young man standing next to him.

It shouldn't have affected me the way that it did, seeing him standing there, an astonished look on his face. Something about his expression did something to me though and I felt my heart patter wildly for an instant within my chest.

No one had looked at me like that since Todd died.

The breath caught in my throat and I was struck silent for a minute. Then I smiled widely and turned slightly towards the younger man as his father introduced us. Something his father said caused Erik to blush a deep red and exclaim sharply in retort. Hearing this and seeing his wounded expression, I immediately felt sympathy for the younger man.

Smiling again, I spoke to him, the poor dear. "Nice to meet you, Erik." I did not expect the little shiver to run up my spine as I spoke his name for the first time.

I think he mumbled something that sounded like a similar greeting but I couldn't understand around the roaring of the blood in my ears. After another few words with Erik's father and a hand shake, they walked together to stand next to the car. His father gave him what I suspected were encouraging words about how much fun he'd have this summer. When his father finally drove off and left him standing alone in my gravel driveway, I felt my heart leap into my throat.

Oh god, I thought suddenly. Am I going to have to make conversation with him now?

I stood still on the porch, unable to move. My eyes followed his movements as he slowly turned from the dusty trail left behind by his father's car. Then he walked up the porch steps and stopped in front of me, not quite looking me in the eye. I stifled a smile at his demeanor and felt immediately better about the entire situation.

At least I wasn't the only one disconcerted by our meeting. But I was the adult and so I pulled myself together, sternly but silently reprimanding my heart for its erratic behavior before turning towards the house.

"I bet you must be tired from your trip," I spoke up, breaking the silence. "Come on, I'll show you to where you'll be staying. You can rest for today and we can start in the morning."

I grabbed one of his suitcases as I spoke and turned to walk inside without waiting to hear a response. I figured he'd follow rather than risk being left outdoors all night. I smiled to myself when I heard the screen door bang shut as he entered the house behind me.

All the way through the house and up those back stairs I tried not to think about him staring at my ass. In spite of myself, I felt a flush creeping up my neck and in seconds I was overheating. I hurried up the last few steps to the little room over the garage, wanting to leave him and get a grip on myself somehow.

I explained that the room had belonged to my nephew the summer before. As I followed his gaze around the small room, I cringed inwardly, knowing how tiny it must seem to someone from the city.

"Hopefully you aren't too cramped in here," I added as an afterthought.

He still didn't say anything, his eyes roving over the sparse furnishings. Suddenly his eyes swept to my face and my breath caught in my throat. I realized then that I'd been staring and I smiled to cover my guilt.

"You don't say much, do you?" I said out loud.

He blushed that remarkable red color again and I couldn't stop the smile from spreading wider across my face. Then I laughed lightly and waved a hand at him.

I assured him that I didn't mind his shyness. I privately found it endearing and was rewarded with a tentative smile. It completely transformed his face and I nodded in satisfaction. It would be very easy to like him.

Too easy.

I informed him that dinner would be ready soon and he could join me when he was settled. Then I left the room, shutting the door firmly behind me. I stood on the landing for a minute though, breathing deeply and trying to calm the beating of my heart. In spite of my earlier reproach, the organ was trotting along at its own carefree pace, leaving me breathless in Erik's presence.

After that minute passed, I felt solid enough to descend the staircase, shaking my head as I went. He was just a boy, after all. Hardly old enough to even know about women. I smiled at the thought of him trying to speak to girls his own age and I wondered if he blushed the same way with them.

Laughing to myself as I reached the kitchen, I bustled about, convinced at last that it must have just been a momentary lapse; a touch of faintness because of the heat and humidity outside. I had been inside all day after all and the oven had been heating the house for the better part of the day with dinner tucked inside.

Reminded of the task at hand, I removed the dish and set about making a salad. By the time Erik clomped down the back stairs, I was quite in control of myself again.

That is, until he smiled that shy smile at me after I caught him staring at my ass.

This was going to be a long summer.

***

The first few nights with Erik in the house were pure torture. To know that a healthy young man was sleeping mere feet away from my bedroom was enough to keep me awake until the wee hours of the morning. As a result, I was less than chatty in the mornings and could only conjure enough presence of mind to give him chores around the house.

Finally on the sixth night, when I thought the loss of sleep and crazed thoughts would drive me mad, I slunk under my bedspread and squeezed my eyes shut. Then I did something I'd never done, not in all the time I'd been married, or widowed for that matter.

Slowly I slid a hand between my legs, under the cotton waistband of my panties and through the curls above my moist womanhood. I gasped as I touched myself there, surprised to find myself so wet. Even with Todd it had taken some coaxing on his part to get me this excited. Now, the mere presence of a virile young man was enough to send me careening towards this, my current state of unrest.

I moved my hand, my fingers slipping lightly over the sensitive lips. I sighed and eased one finger inside the warm hole, my mouth dropping open as I did so. Then I pulled my hand up and stroked that slightly protruding nub that used to draw so much of Todd's attention. He'd always enjoyed lying between my legs, his cheek pressed against my thigh as he lapped at me with his tongue, crooning in between motions about how sweet my clit tasted.

Moaning, I began to stroke faster, seeing instead the youthful face of my summer helper looking up at me. His eyes shone in the darkness of my room and when he smiled his sweet, shy smile, I came. I exploded, years of pent up sexual energy washing over me in seemingly unending waves.

After several minutes of stars circling my head and my rough attempts to catch my breath, I rolled over and pressed my face to the pillow beneath my head, wishing I could take back all the ungodly noises I was certain I'd just made. I couldn't help but wonder if Erik had heard any of what I'd cried out in the midst of my release. Shaking my head at my own thoughtlessness, I rolled onto my back once more and fell into a somewhat restful sleep.

In the morning I told myself that I was overreacting. Erik had been working so hard on the house over the past week that he must be sleeping like a log at night. There's no chance he'd heard me the night before. And even if he had, he wasn't forward enough to say anything about it. At the most, he'd blush and hurry outside without breakfast. The thought made me smile and I shrugged. Now that I'd got it out of my system, maybe I'd be able to sleep better at night too.

But as Erik walked down the stairs into the kitchen that morning, I knew it wasn't true. He looked just as appealing as he had before I'd made myself climax the night before.

Damnit!

So the summer wore on. I took to pleasuring myself nearly every night in an effort to erase the desire I was feeling.

It's absurd! I thought one evening as I handed him several extra blankets to ward off the chill at night. Here he is freezing his ass off every night and all I can think about is ways to keep him warm. That don't include these damn blankets.

It was all I could do not to throw myself at him whenever he walked into the kitchen for breakfast or dinner. I had to turn away half the time just so he wouldn't see my mouth gaping or hear me gasping for air. Even the fact that he refused to use my given name seemed to incite something inside of me.

I'd very nearly accosted him the day I'd wrapped his hand after a nasty cut he'd sustained while working. It had been a considerable feat of mental strength to keep from sliding into his lap and sucking on his ear lobe. That such a thought even entered into my mind shocked me. I'd turned away as soon as the bandage was tied and served him a piece of cake to cover my own discomfort.

I felt like a teenager again, not a thirty-one year old woman who owned her own farm and who'd been married once for three years. Who the hell was this kid that he could do this to me? Or was it just that he was a male and I had been without affection for so long? I couldn't figure it out and if I was being honest with myself, I didn't care.

For several weeks I simply told myself that there was nothing to be done for it, beyond what I was already doing of course. But my fingers were tired and my body ached for something more.

The weekend of July the 1st rolled around before I knew it and I spent the better part of that morning pacing in the yard near the house. There were many tasks I could be taking care of but instead I reminisced about the few summers I'd had with Todd and how we'd celebrate in town with all the other people we'd known all our lives. This wouldn't be the first summer I hadn't gone to town for the big picnic and all the games but somehow I knew my reasons for not going this year were entirely new.

My eyes scanned the horizon as the day wore on and I frowned when I saw the thunderheads forming in the distance. Sighing in resignation, I went inside to start dinner. I knew Erik would be heading in from the fields soon and I made a point of always having dinner ready promptly at six o'clock, if only so I'd know exactly when I'd see him again.

I was just removing the casserole dish from the oven when the door opened and Erik entered, in something of a hurry. The wind swept past the house outside and the door banged shut behind him. He winced and put a hand out to stop it belatedly. Smiling, I carried the casserole dish to the table.

"It's going to be bad, I think," I remarked casually as I set the dish down.

Erik nodded his agreement as he sat down across from me.