Mind Made Up

Castillo. Day three.

There's a knock on my door that wakes me. It's been years since there's been a knock on my door. I'm confused for a moment.

- Yeah?...

- Grant, dear? Breakfast.

Mom's voice. Calling me. Waking me up. My eyes struggle to open.

- Uh...

- I made your favorite, she says. At least, I hope pancakes are still your favorite.

I hear her giggle, then walk away. It takes me another moment to stir to wakefulness; as I rise, I notice that I have kept the ring on all night. That ring. The one my dad claimed was lucky.

It certainly got me lucky with Dolores yesterday, I tell myself.

I join my mom and sisters in the kitchen; Stacey, the eldest, is already dressed for the day, but Heather is lounging in her pajamas. I can't help but notice that two buttons are undone at the top, and two at the bottom, granting me a nice view of her cleavage and belly. Stacey's dressed for business - jeans and a form fitting t-shirt. They both wink at me as I walk in. Mom is hard at work setting up the table - she looks content to have her family at the table. It's been years since we've been together like this on a normal occasion - though my father's passing can't really be called normal.

I notice mom has put her best apron, the one we bought her for Mother's Day way back when. It reads across her chest: WORLD'S BEST MOM.

- So, what are your plans for today?

- Well, Stacey intervenes, if you don't mind, I'd like to take up selling dad's old stuff that you don't want.

- I'd like to go with you, mom says. I may have changed my mind about not keeping anything.

We smile; it's good that my mom can take advantage of the situation to fetch herself a little happiness. Eyes turn to Heather.

- What? I'm home. It's summer. I have no classes. I'm going to be lounging all day.

- Can I ask you to the laundry then? my mom asks her.

- Fine.

I'm about to speak up when mom turns to me, smiling.

- Now, Grant honey, you just take it easy today.

- I could help out, mom.

- I'm sure you could, but you've been under a lot of stress lately, so maybe you should take example on Heather here.

I'm wondering if they want to keep away from their own activity, but the sentiment, from my mom, can only be sincere. I thank her for the opportunity, though I insist they call on me for heavy lifting. Stacey literally comes over to squeeze my bicep. I'm certain the next comment will be snarky.

- You have been working out, haven't you?

- Yeah, yeah... laugh it up.

Except even as I speak, I have failed to catch the innuendo in her voice - because there isn't any. Mom joins in.

- It's true. You look better than ever, son.

- Thanks.

And the deluge of praise continues; I glance at the ring, wondering if IT has anything to do with this strange situation I find myself in. As with before, I decide to indulge in it. The validation is immensely satisfying.

Mom and Stacey leave before me; I plan on going into town today. Before I can depart, Heather grabs my arm and pulls me back into the house.

- What is it? I ask.

- What are you gonna do today?

- Hang. See the sights. Maybe call up some old friends.

- Oh.

She seems disappointed; I inquire. She smiles at me.

- Well, we don't get to see each other a lot, so I thought maybe you'd like to spend some time with me.

The thought of hanging out with my younger sister had not even occurred to me; now that the desire is stated, I can't see any problems with it. I do want to go out, however, so I compromise.

- You want to do something this afternoon?

- Sure.

- Like what?

I see her eyes race to ideas of activities we could do together.

- Well... we could just walk around town. Get some ice cream at Janie's.

- I haven't eaten there in ages! I reply.

- Another reason to go. And we could go to the beach, or even to the park. I just want to hang out with you, Grant.

- All good ideas. Let's say we think on it? I'll be back for lunch, and then we can head out.

- Neat!

Heather pulls me towards her and offers an embrace; I extend it back. I've never seen her this happy to be home, or with me. If anything, dad's passing has brought us closer. Eventually, she lets go and I walk out.

I'm not ten feet from my house that a greeting comes my way. My head swivels to spot our neighbor, Pauline Walker, glancing and waving at me. I wave back.

- Grant, come over here, please! she asks.

I shuffle around our lawn onto hers and greet her with a polite nod.

- Mrs. Walker. Hello again.

- Pauline, please.

- All right.

She offers me a sympathetic tone.

- You all right? About your dad and everything?

My finger rubs against the ring. I nod that I am. She smiles.

- That's good. Best be moving on, anyway. It's not like that man was really in your life, you know.

- He wasn't. He had his issues. Rest his soul.

- Amen.

I take a moment to take her in; she's wearing shorts that stop mid-thigh, and a tight green camisole convenient for yard work. Her nipples pierce through the cloth, telling me she's not wearing a bra.

- Still working on the garden? I ask.

- Somewhat. Mostly taking in the sun. Beautiful day.

- It is.

She seems hesitant about something but I decide not to ask about it; she finally speaks up.

- I was wondering, Grant, if you'd be so kind as to help with a few things around the house.

- What kind of things?

- Well, I'd like to move a few pieces of furniture around, and maybe get some stuff out of the shed for the summer. Could you?

I can't help but wince; my memory tells me I've read this scenario before. A big part of me just wants to go away into town, do stuff, hang, just wander about my old stomping grounds. But a little voice in my head, getting stronger, tells me to stay and help out.

- Why not? I finally reply.

The smile on her face shines beyond my expectations; she reaches out and grabs my hand, holding it a moment.

- That is so sweet of you, Grant. Come on.

She turns around and heads towards her home; I follow, my eyes darting to her derrière as she sways forward.

- Are you alone? I ask.

- I am. Jeff (that's her husband) is at work, and my two boys are out at summer camp.

We pass through the doorway; I close it behind her. Given what happened with Dolores the day before, I'm expecting a certain direction for this scene - but I'm unsure how it might unfold. I take a moment to consider if I would really enjoy to spend some quality time with my neighbor. There was a time, in high school, where the horny young teenager I was would have given it up - and not necessarily specifically for Pauline. The list of women I wanted to bed was exhaustive.

We get to the living room and she looks around, as if planning how to redecorate the place - or maybe she actually is thinking. She turns around and faces me.

- What a strong boy you've become! she says.

- Are you feeling all right, Pauline?

- I am great. Why do you ask?

- Because...

I want to say that I ask because she seems to be acting out of an expected pattern. She's always been friendly with me, but this is downright flirty, if not provocative. In fact, she bends her hip to the side to emphasize her curves - or maybe for comfort, but that is engendered effect. I opt for a different direction, one that works within what I perceive to be her mindset.

- Well, because I care. Because I wouldn't want you to feel any form of pressure to... for anything, really. I want you to be well.

- I am much better with you here, she blatantly says.

I don't really know her husband. He was never really around when I lived with mom. Apparently, he used to drive a truck for a living. Now, he's in an office, doing administrative work for that same company. Bottom line is he is an unknown quantity - the vision of his wife flirting with me certainly wouldn't be seen kindly. If there's to be anything happening today between Pauline and myself, it'd be nice if it didn't get out. At all.

- I'm glad to hear it, Pauline.

I stare at the furniture.

- Where shall we start then?

My voice is full of innuendo; hers is the same.

- Well, I was wondering what to do with the couch...

She shuffles over and leans forward against it, quite literally offering me her backside for the view.

- I mean, she continues, I do like it where it is, but sometimes, you need to change it up a bit.

- Is that what you want to do today, Pauline? Change it up?

- I'm open to whatever you may propose.

I don't like playing coy - I mean, I like it, in fact, I enjoy it quite a bit - it doesn't get me what I want, which is an official declaration of purpose. If I make a move on her and she rejects me, I'll never live it down. I decide to go stand right behind her and rub my thigh against hers. I can feel her shivering. I'm hopeful my next move will also yield positive results. I put one hand on her lower back and apply slight pressure, almost caressing her. She does not back away or cry out; in fact, she leans against my hand.

- I think... we both want the same thing, I tell her.

- I think we do.

- Can... I ask why? I decide to inquire, then sharpen my question: I mean, what's changed with me since the last time you saw me?

She doesn't turn around but she rises and presses her back against my frame as she answers.

- It's not one specific thing, she tells me. It's what you exude, Grant. Something musky, something inviting. It's been years and seeing how as an adult, seeing how handsome you are...

- You really do find me attractive?

She starts rubbing her ass against my leg.

- What do you think?

I have to tempt fate and test further; yesterday, with Dolores, I was merely a stoic participant. But if there's some 'power' or 'ability' involved with the ring that allows me to be this desirable (I can't think of a non-magical or logical explanation for the change), I want to know more and find out how it works. I also realize, quite plainly, that I feel more aroused than ever. Already, the slight stimulations that Pauline is offering me are having the desired effect on my libido.

I raise my hands, reach around her body and cup her breasts over the camisole. She leans forward into my hands, moaning gently. Her response is to rub her ass against my crotch; she can now feel my erection clearly through my pants.

- Damn... I mumble.

She giggles.

- This feels amazing!

I agree; I'm turned on.

- How... do you want to do this? I inquire.

She pulls away from me and finally turns around. Her nipples are hard under her shirt, though I could feel it under my palms.

- Please take off your clothes, she tells me. I want... to see you all.

I take a step back, grabbing my shirt from the bottom, then pull it upward. I can swear she is holding her breath as I expose myself to her. I toss the shirt in her direction - she catches up, then pulls it to her face and smells it. She looks on as I unclasp my pants and pull them down, revealing my form-fitting underwear. The bulge is quite visible and Pauline stares, wide-eyed. Pants are off; socks follow. I stand before her like that, then decide I want to take charge a bit.

- Before I go any further, I tell her, I want to see some of you too.

My request makes her happy; without standing up, she grabs the sides of her shorts and pulls them down, revealing a lack of underwear. She doesn't provide me with a good view of her flower, but I do see that it is shaven. She comments on it.

- I shaved this morning - for you...

- So you've been thinking about this, I reply.

Her only answer is a smile, and she spreads her legs for me for a full view. I feel myself hardening just by staring at her. She giggles again from the excitement and contemplates as I reach to my waist and pull down my underwear. The revelation of my manhood stirs her up even more.

- Oh... Grant... I want you.

I walk over to stand atop her as she leans back on the couch. She grabs her top and pulls it off seductively; her breasts bounce down as they are released from the cloth. Pauline Walker is naked underneath me, staring up at my face, then pulling her eyes towards my erection. I'm ready for the main course, so I bend my knees to her height and connect our sexes.

- Ooooh... she mumbles.

Other circumstances might have me play with her but I am eager for the feel of a woman's insides, a sensation not felt in many years for me. Yet before I enter her, maturity kicks in.

- Do... I need protection? I ask.

- No... now please... put it in.

I take her at face value and position myself; I test the waters and find them quite receptive. Gently, I push forward and watch my shaft slowly vanish inside my neighbor's sex. We both moan from the intense sensations that assault us as we sexually connect with one another.

- Ooooh... Grant... Yes!

- Fuck... Pauline. Wow.

I'm not moving. Being inside Pauline is the most wonderful sensation I've had in years. Pauline blankly stares at where our bodies connect; her smile is amazing. I lean in against her to reach for a kiss. Our lips lock together as I give my first thrust inside her. Her entire body vibrates. Our kiss seems to last forever, until I pull away, out-of-breath. Then, I start to sway. Pauline moans loudly, in response to each thrust inside her body. My hands grab her hips to help me with the rhythm of our love-making session.

My movements are punctuated with kisses to accentuate our experience; Pauline welcomes them (and me) with all the lust she can muster. When our lips aren't joined, she offers me a delicious vocal display to excite and encourage. I'm not tempted to pull out and switch positions; the desire is too strong to never leave her body. Yet I'm not surprised when arousal builds up in my shaft, a not-unexpected tension that comes a bit too early for me. I don't think I've managed to give my partner an orgasm yet. I'm torn between my need for release and the desire to please Pauline.

- Aah... fuck, Pauline... this is too good, I manage to utter.

- You want to come inside me? she asks through her heavy breathing.

- I do... but... what about you?

- Don't worry... about me... Grant.

Years since I spent myself inside a woman; I can't hold on any longer and abandon all resistance. Warmth shoots out of me and into Pauline as I groan heavily the pleasure I draw from the release. Thrust after thrust spills fluids inside her and she welcomes it by grabbing my hands, still on her hips.

When I stop moving, she releases my hands, pulls me close to her face and kisses me gently. I return the sentiment and close my eyes through the exchange. Finally, as she releases me, I stare at her.

- Oh god... that was wonderful.

- It was, she smiles.

- Did you...? I begin to ask but she interrupts me.

- I had fun.

I don't ask any more questions; I just enjoy the bliss a moment more before pulling out of her, to look at the mess I made. She shrugs it off.

- Carpet cleaner will take care of that stain, she jokes.

- Thank you, Pauline.

- No. Thank you, Grant. You know, women don't necessarily need to have an orgasm in order to enjoy the experience. And there's always next time.

Those words snap me back into the moment, and I turn to her.

- Next time? Are you sure?

- As sure as I was about this time.

- Ok... but... I'm really sorry to ask...

She stops me with a wave of her hand, then finishes my sentence.

- Jeff? Screw him. I'm fairly certain he's having an affair.

- He is?

I'm wondering if she's just saying that to dismiss my concerns, but her tone and face are serious.

- You want to tell me more? I say, and I realize she may indeed want to.

- I... yes.

She may not have had any confidant to share this with. I climb onto the couch, sitting beside her, grabbing her hand.

- You can tell me. I won't tell. Or judge.

- You're kind, Grant. I knew you would be. She... Her name is Esther. She's about your age, I think. A secretary at Jeff's work. Hired right out of college. I met her only once, at a company event. Last Christmas. I could see it there, but I didn't want to see it. You know Jeff is no longer trucking, right?

I confirm my awareness.

- I think she's the reason. I think he wants to spend time with her. God! I'm so stupid for putting up with this.

- You are not stupid, Pauline. You're hurt.

- And I want to hurt him back. And her too - well, her, not so much. Now... if he found me in bed with someone, he'd throw a fit. And I can't prove anything, Grant. So...

She sighs, then grabs my hand.

- Still, that doesn't mean we can't - you and me - you know...

- I know.

I kiss her; she relaxes against my lips.

- Anyway, she continues, that's the story. You can come over whenever. My door is always open. In fact, if you don't mind, I'd like to give you a key.

- Really?

I'm about to refuse, but I see how much it means to her so I take it and thank her. I return to my clothes, put the key in the pocket, then start dressing up. Pauline remains naked, sitting on her couch.

- Well, Pauline, I state sincerely, you can be sure I'll drop in for a visit. Soon.

- I'd like that.

Her smile is gorgeous, as is the relief I sense from her, for the sex and for the revelation she was allowed to make. I walk over to her, kiss her again, then head out the door. My plans have changed.

I cross the connected lawns and head back to my mom's house. I push the door open and hear a scuffle from upstairs.

- Hello?

I see my younger sister Heather, still in her pajamas, race to the top of stairs, looking down at me. She seems surprised.

- You're back?

- I am.

The glint in her eye tells me she's been up to no good. I offer her the scolding stare of a brother, but she merely shrugs it off.

- Miss me already? she asks.

- What were you doing upstairs?

- Nothing.

I won't get her to talk; instead, I walk up the stairs towards her. She puts herself in my way, staring me down.

- You weren't gone long. I thought you'd be gone all morning.

- Change of plans. Now can I pass.

- Mmmm... ok.

It feels like she was going to say something - deny me access - but she steps out of the way and I pass. She dashes down the stairs. I walk to my room and enter it. It takes me a moment to notice but I realize some of my things aren't where I left them - I think that's what it is. Was she snooping? I hurry and close the door, lock it, then inspect my room. Dad's letter and the photo album are still in the box. The memory card is still in the data reader. That's what I'm looking for. I access the images on there - all those not in father's 'favorites' album - and check file names. Roughly three thousand pictures are in there, and they're not referenced by name. I start browsing. It takes me a few minutes, scanning through the images, to find the ones I'm looking for. They're dated about twelve years ago. Pauline Walker, in all her naked splendor, spreading herself on a bed for the photographer, in multiple shots. She was gorgeous then and she is gorgeous now.

There's something else I need to confirm. I get the photo album and compare a few of the images; every single one that's in the book is also on the data card. That's good. I set up a transfer of all the images to my cellphone via USB. I realize that, if I'm going to be running into my father's old conquests, I don't want to constantly have to come back home to look on the computer. It's a gamble, but I keep my phone locked. Transfer time is fifteen minutes.

I rise to my feet and exit the room, after carefully stowing the album back into its box, and hiding the box inside my closet, underneath a pile of old boxes.

I search for my sister and find her in the living room, watching some television. I want her to come clean about what she did and I don't see direct confrontation yielding any result. I stare at her, catching more cleavage and belly because of her half-open pajama top. Her head turns to me.