This story is a revision of a story I posted to Literotica several years ago. This story is a work of fiction and contains no references to any real persons or events.
***
Tapping on the patio door caught my attention. I shouted for Rick to come in. I looked up at his footfalls and smiled at the teenager. The boy had a parcel in his arms.
"It came, John. Can you believe it? It came so fast I can't believe it."
I handed him a pocketknife. "Awesome. Let's open it up and see if it's worth the list price. I've been worried about that."
Rick cut, or rather, ripped the package open and laid the pieces out. A nose cone, body, a couple fins, and a parachute. He dropped the box on the floor.
"Looks good Rick, give me the invoice and you check the fit." I reached for the crumpled paper. I gave the invoice a once over. "Holy buckets! That's more than we talked about. Does your mom know you spent this much on this?"
Rick shrugged. "I'll get around to telling her later on. Look at this thing, John. I'll bet if we get the right motor it'll even carry a real payload."
"For that much money it should come with a solid gold payload and a motor."
"They can't send motors through the mail."
"Rick, we've talked about this before. You can't keep spending this kind of money on rockets. You and your mom are just getting by."
The boy beamed. "It's okay. The tax return came. Mom said we should splurge on something, so I got this."
"I'll bet she had something else in mind, kiddo. Something like a car maybe."
Rick placed both hands on the table and shook his head. "She wouldn't get me a car. She never lets me drive the one we have."
"Where's your mom at anyway?"
"Work. Look at this baby, John. I'll bet we'll have to get clearance from the airport to launch this puppy."
I groaned. "It'll probably come down in the lake and you'll never see it again. What time does she get home?"
"About six. Why?" Rick simulated a launch with the partially assembled rocket, including sound effects. "Whoosh!"
"Rick, put the rocket down. Don't you have chores to do?"
"Yeah, but I wanted to show this to you. Can we launch it on Saturday?"
"We'll see. Maybe your mom will make you send it back. That's an awful lot of money for something you might lose the first time you use it."
Rick's joy slipped from his face, replaced by gloom. "Some days you sound just like Dad."
"Your dad was a good man and you're right, he'd say the same thing."
The boy's eyebrows met in the middle, darkening the gloom. "Dad wouldn't have let me order it in the first place."
I thumped Rick on the shoulder. "Well, he would've been excited to see it fly. So, how's school going?"
"So, so."
I allowed a stern expression. "Rick, if you think you're going to work for NASA you've got to get better than a C in Trig. You know that."
"Yeah, I know." He laid the rocket on the table. "Can I leave this here until I tell Mom about it?"
I shook my head and chuckled. "Sure, but tell her today and get your chores done before she gets home for a change. I've got to tell you I get tired of her complaining about your lack of work ethic."
"Great, I'll see you later." He left everything and ran out the patio door, leaving it open.
"Rick, get back here," I shouted.
"Yeah?"
"Close the door."
"Oh yeah. Sorry. See you later." Then he was gone.
***
I knocked on my neighbor's door. Rick opened it and let me in. We exchanged pretend body punches then returned to faux respectability as Rick's mother joined us at the door.
"John, so glad you could make it," Shirley said.
"I wouldn't miss it, Mrs. Jamison. Some guy told me you make the best pot roast in town." I accepted Shirley's motherly hug.
Rick laughed. "That was me."
I stabbed a finger at Rick, then handed a bottle to Shirley. "A little vino for later on, Mrs. Jamison."
She took the bottle without examining it. "John, it's been well over a year, please call me Shirley. Come in."
We had a nice dinner and the Shirley and I sat at the table enjoying an after-dinner cognac while Rick occupied himself with a video game.
"That was an outstanding pot roast, Shirley. Thanks for inviting me. I don't know how she does it, but my mom can dry one out to the point you'd think it was a big hunk of jerky."
Shirley giggled. "Thank you, John, but I must admit I have an ulterior motive."
"Really? What is it?"
"I was hoping I could convince you to give Ricky driving lessons and a certificate of completion, assuming he passes. I'm certainly not asking you to do anything unscrupulous. But if he had that certificate, I could get a break on my car insurance. I can pay you some, but maybe not your full price up front. I can make payments if that's all right?"
"I'll do that for free. Least I can do seeing as you and Mike helped me out when I was just getting started."
Shirley smiled. Her eyes sparkled. I thought she was very good looking for her age. Just a touch of gray in her hair and plenty of laugh lines around her eyes. She'd been a beauty when she was young and truth was, I'd masturbated a few times fantasizing about her. Losing Mike had been a cruel trick of fate.
"Well, I don't want to end up indebted to anyone," she said.
"Don't worry. It'd be my pleasure and a tax write off too. Win, win. Least I can do after getting Rick hooked on rockets."
"Oh my God, have you seen his room? Come on, let me show you." Shirley got up and held a hand out to me. I took it and marveled at how warm and soft it was. She led me upstairs. I paused and looked into the first room we came to.
It was neat. A colorful bedspread on a single bed with a doll clad in an antebellum dress sitting on the pillow. I smiled, obviously not Rick's.
Shirley's cheeks grew pink. "That's my room now." She pulled the door closed. Her face looked as if she feared I might discover some secret or something." I don't sleep in our room anymore. It just feels so...so lonely in there."