Liz, Angie & Barry
This is a follow up to Holidaying with Grandma, all participants are over the age of 18. It is narrated by Liz.
It was now a little over 6 months since Barry and I had spent a month in Spain, 6 months since I had taken my grandson into my bed and turned him from a shy, reluctant teenager into my highly virile and now increasingly self-confident lover.
Barry was now studying hard at university, a place over 150 miles from where I lived, making our time together frustrating and short. We managed to spend a few weekends together but for the sake of discretion any family get togethers had, by necessity, to be distant.
I had a bigger problem to deal with, namely Angie, my daughter who had self-invited herself into next year's month in Spain which Barry and I had planned before we left the previous holiday.
I could not very well tell her she could not come because I was shagging her son practically every day we were there, fate, however decided to lend a hand to my problem.
It was early evening when my cell rang, looking at the screen it simply said "Angie."
My daughter, Barry's mom, and the current cause of my musings as to how I could dissuade her from joining us later that year, her appearance in Spain would, certainly, spoil a very sexual tryst for Barry and myself.
Pressing answer, I spoke, "Evening dear, how are you?"
The voice at the other end of the connection sounded distant and, I thought, lonely.
"I'm alright Mom......really."
This did not sit right with me, Angie, normally a bubbly and bright soul, sounded down and depressed.
"You do not sound alright to me darling, are you going to tell Mom all about it?"
Angie ignored my request and pressed on.
"No really, it is nothing, I'm fine," she continued, "How are you?"
Knowing Angie of old I did not press her further for an explanation, which would come in time, it always did with Angie, everything always came out eventually in her own time.
"I'm good," I answered, "keeping busy as always."
"That is good Mom," she said hesitantly before continuing, "E.r.m, have you anything planned for tomorrow by any chance Mom?"
The phone call began to fall into place now, there was a reason behind it and now I was about to find out.
"No dear," I replied in my best motherly voice, "nothing planned for tomorrow, just me on my own all day."
I could hear a palatable sigh of relief in Angie's voice as she replied to this.
"Would it be alright if I drive over, say, after lunch-time Mom?"
I almost laughed aloud when I heard this, all her life Angie, my Angie, had taken a roundabout route whenever she needed to speak with me about something that really concerned her, and this evening was no exception.
"Of course, it is alright darling," I answered, "it is always good to see you," then as an afterthought I added, "do not eat before you arrive, I will make something, and I'll chill some wine for us."
"Great Mom, thank you," Angie's voice had changed, as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders.
"Thank you, Mom," she gushed, "I'll see you tomorrow, love you Mom, bye."
I put the phone down and began to ponder the conversation that had just taken place.
Angie was concerned about something, concerned enough to run home to Mom but what could it be?
I put all conjecture to one side, no good fretting over it tonight I had to plan for tomorrow.
I stood and walked through to the kitchen, opened the cellar door, switched the light on and descended the stairs.
My late husband had laid down a decent wine cellar down there and despite it being over 10 years since his passing I maintained it.
I looked around, there were over 50 bottles to choose from, I pondered deep in thought.
"Chardonnay," I thought, "yes Chardonnay, that will be nice."
I selected two bottles from the rack then headed back to the stairs, stopping at the bottom, deep in thought, I turned and back at the rack selected another bottle.
"Three," I thought, "just in case!"
Back in the kitchen I carefully placed the bottles into the wine chiller then collecting the bottle of Merlot, I had planned to drink that night, from the counter I returned to the living room and switched on the TV.
The following day, just after 1pm, I heard a car on the driveway, I stood and crossed to the window and looking out I saw Angie's BMW on the driveway.
As I stood watching Angie exited the car, I caught her eye and we both waved.
I could not help but think how beautiful she looked, at 38 years of age she was a Milf, I laughed inside at this remembering how Barry, after making love with me, had shown me on his laptop what exactly a Milf was!
"Am I a Milf then?" I had asked him jokingly.
"No Liz," he had replied in all seriousness, "You are much better, you are a Gilf of the highest order!"
Now looking at Angie I fully understood where Barry had been coming from.
Angie and I were almost two peas from the same pod, albeit two peas with a 23-year age difference between them, indeed on more than one occasion when out together I had been mistaken for her older sister.
Angie stood the same height as me, the same shoulder length blonde hair, the one glaring difference being Angie's bust size, I was a full 38C whereas Angie a petite 36B, her make-up light but expertly applied with a coat of red lip gloss highlighting her full, pouty lips to perfection.
Dressed in a green, floral summer dress cut around 4" above the knee Angie exuded beauty and class apart, that is, from the flat heeled sneakers she wore for driving!
I chuckled to myself at this as I walked to the door to greet her.
"Mom," Angie shrieked as I opened the door, "it is so good to see you."
With that she threw her arms wide, I reciprocated by hugging her close to me.
"Hello darling," I said, "come on through."
As we walked down the hallway to the living room Angie clutched my hand.
"Thank you, Mom."
"Whatever for dear?" I replied, somewhat taken aback by the show of affection.
"Oh, I don't know, just for being you I guess, for being my mom!" she gushed.
This was beginning to worry me; this was not Angie's style unless something profoundly serious was happening in her life.
In the living room I motioned to Angie to sit on the sofa whilst I disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve the wine from the chiller.
I chose two bottles then opened a cupboard door for glasses, I picked up two large glasses, you know the kind, the ones that hold half a bottle at a time.
I reasoned that these were probably going to be the required type, I was not proven wrong.
