I looked out my kitchen window, feeling a bit down on my luck. I was 34 weeks pregnant, and I was terribly alone. I was happy about the baby, but being a single mother was going to be tough. Not only on me, but on my baby as well. The father, whose name was not worth mentioning, skipped town when he found out. And my mother, who was ecstatic about becoming a grandmother, lived in another state and wouldn't be able to help out much.
A sudden knock at the front door startled me. I opened the front door and there stood my grandfather. I hadn't seen him in many, many years and really didn't expect to see him now. He had basically disowned my father when I was very young, and I had never seen him again after that. But in between the years since then, I had basically disowned my father, too, so I guess he and I were sort of on the same side, now.
He was older looking than when I had seen him last. His face was weathered, wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. His hair was completely white, unlike the flat black it had been when I was a child. Though he was still a large man, his shoulders wide, he somehow looked frail.
"Hello there, Anna," he greeted me cheerfully.
"Hi Grandpa," I said, hoping I was masking the shock I felt.
"So the rumours are true, then. You ARE pregnant. Wow," he laughed.
"Yeah," I said, unable to imagine who would have told him about my pregnancy. "Won't you please come in?"
"Thank you," he said as he moved into the house.
After preparing my grandfather a cup of tea, we sat, talking quietly about my situation.
"I know you have no where else to turn to," he was saying. "And I know you probably wouldn't have called to ask for my help, which is why I decided to come see you."
I felt tears begin to sting the back of my eyes at the sincerity of his words. I stood up, moving to the kitchen sink with my empty teacup, my back to him to hide my face. I didn't hear him get up until he was suddenly standing behind me.
"I will do anything I can to help you," he whispered, his lips pressed to my ear. His arms snaked around me, and his hands were caressing my belly, very gently.
A sudden tightening of my clitoral muscles made me suddenly aware of how long it had been since someone had held me this close. He spun me around slowly in his arms and looked deeply into my eyes. He smelled slightly of tobacco, with a hint of mint.
"Do you want to find out what I can do for you?" He pressed as tight against me as my belly would allow.
My heart picked up the pace, slightly. "I would appreciate any help you can give me," I said carefully. As much as I loved my grandfather, I was unable to let myself think the obvious in this situation. Was he beginning to cross a line, or was he just being nice?
"Good," he replied, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. "Because there's alot of things I would enjoy helping you with."
Despite how frail he had looked standing in my doorway, his hands were very strong, giving me goosebumps. The contact almost made me wish I was wearing a bulky sweatshirt instead of the maternity dress I wore. The fabric stretched tight across my breasts, leaving nothing to the imagination. His eyes were intent on my face, and then slowly, very deliberately, he lowered his gaze to my breasts. My nipples were hard, poking out against the fabric of my dress. Bringing his gaze back my face, I could suddenly see a feverish light in his eyes.