It was a ten minute drive from the hospital to our house. My sister held my gaze, and my hardening cock, for the first half of the ride home. When I was completely erect in her hand, I finally whispered, "Please stop." She reluctantly released me, moving her hand to her lap and looking down into my lap. Her eyes shot open in disbelief before I crossed my legs uncomfortably. Fortunately, my mom took that opportunity to point out a house we passed that was on the market and told us about it. Beth managed to keep her hands to herself for the rest of the drive, and acted more like my sister once we were home.
Our house seemed smaller, somehow, when I walked up to the front door. It didn't feel like I had been gone almost two years, since I had been in a coma for most of it. The house felt alien to me, once I was inside. It was a large 4-bedroom ranch house. I could clearly see the water sparkling in the kidney-shaped pool through the sliding glass back door. The pool was surrounded by a wide cement deck. Three lounge chairs were spread around, and there was a picnic table with an umbrella built into it surrounded by three matching chairs. I shook my head as I looked out at the pool. None of that had been there before I got sick.
The living room and dining room furniture were also new. A large flat screen television on the wall had replaced the old television cabinet we used to have. The kitchen at least looked the same, although there was none of the "junk food" that I remembered.
My bedroom was unrecognizable. In addition to completely new furniture and curtains, it had been repainted, had new carpet, and the closet was open and empty. None of the clothes that had been in there would have fit me anymore. This was a grown-up's room now, I reflected as I looked at myself in the mirror above my dresser. In the mirror, I saw Beth was standing in my doorway. I turned to her and said, "This doesn't even feel like the same house."
"I know, right?" she said, as she came over and wrapped her arms around me. "Still...welcome home, Josh." I turned to hug her back. We stood there just holding each other for several minutes. Unlike earlier, this was just a warm, comfortable moment. I felt some of the tension drain from my shoulders and neck. Beth felt me relax and rubbed my back with her hands. For the first time since getting out of the car, I did feel like I was home.
It was still early in the morning, so we all sat down for breakfast. It was our first family breakfast in almost two years. My mother wanted to take me out shopping immediately, but I was exhausted. I hadn't slept at all last night. I was emotionally drained as well.
"I was just too excited to sleep last night," I told them. After breakfast I excused myself. I gave my dad a big, long hug. I held my mother, and my dad and I exchanged a helpless look as she sobbed uncontrollably in my arms. Beth sat and watched, still eating, and I kissed her on the cheek before padding down the hall to my room. I stripped, put on light workout shorts, and lay down to sleep. When I finally collapsed into my new queen-sized bed, it felt huge. And empty. I was fast asleep within minutes.
I woke up several hours later, bolting upright in the strange bed. My parents were standing in the doorway, my dad had his arm around my mother's shoulders, and they had the strangest look in their eyes. So many emotions were clearly washing over them as they watched me sleep, watched me wake in panic. I smiled at them, and lay back in the bed. "It's good to be home," I said.
I realized then that I was on top of the covers, and my grey workout shorts did nothing to hide my bulge. I sat up quickly and turned to the side of the bed, making a mental note to ALWAYS wear underwear in the future. My dad closed the door, giving me privacy to change into the one pair of cargo shorts my mother had bought for me. Mom wanted to take me out shopping for clothes, and dad was clearly not interested in any part of that expedition. He did, however, show me the excellent workout room he had made of the fourth bedroom. Beth had left earlier, while I slept. When she hadn't been visiting me in the hospital, she had been hanging out with her friends from high school.
Mom and I had a nice lunch out after we left the second store. The meal was nothing fancy, just pizza; it was just nice to be out with my mother. I had lost count of the times I had stepped out of a dressing room in a new outfit to hear her say, "Oh, you look so handsome!" I realize that sounds jaded, but, come on, it's my mother. Also, I now look so much like my dad that I would hope she finds me handsome. Otherwise, Dad's in trouble.
The clothes shopping tour went on for hours. I did get a lot of really nice clothes. I got final say before we bought anything; nothing was awful and forced on my by my mother. Not to come across as ungrateful, but...I'm a guy. It's clothes. Not that exciting. We were at it so long that we wound up grabbing dinner on the way home. Again, nothing fancy, some sandwiches from a Subway with chips and soda. We brought my dad's home for him, and ate it at the dining room table. I had just taken a big sip of my Baja Blast when my mom inadvertently dropped a bombshell on me.
"...mmm, that reminds me, your home healthcare worker will be here tomorrow. You remember Leanne? Your sister's friend?"
I coughed noisily on my soda, barely managing to avoid launching it everywhere. "Sorry. Yeah, I remember her."
Remember Leanne? My junior high wet dreams were full of Leanne. Half of all my boners were inspired by Leanne since the very first one—and that counted all the recent ones in the hospital. Most of the times I jacked off, it was Leanne I was picturing when I got off. So, yes, you could say I remember Leanne. You could also say Texans kinda remember the Alamo.
Leanne was easily the loveliest of my sister's friends. She was funny, smart, athletic (she was on the varsity volleyball team), and she was just an awesome friend to my sister. Twice that I could clearly remember, something bad happened to my sister. I was never made privy to what exactly had happened, but then Leanne was there, they went into my sister's room, and half an hour later, everything was miraculously better.
Leanne was also hopelessly out of my league. She was dating a guy named Steve in our high school. He was "the" Steve. He was the quarterback of the varsity squad. He was easily the most popular and attractive guy in the school his junior year, and only improved as a senior. Worst of all, he was one of the nicest guys I ever met in my life. I mean, from a distance, lusting after Leanne as I did, I wanted to hate the guy. Despite his popularity and his good looks, he was self-deprecating, polite, and treated everybody—even his girlfriend's best friend's dorky little brother—with kindness and respect. Once I had hung out with Steve a couple times, I actually felt guilty about lusting after Leanne. You know how it goes, though, that guilt didn't stop my fantasies from revolving around her.
I realized when I came out of "Leanne Land" that my mother had continued talking and I hadn't registered any of it. I just nodded, but she was already done with that subject.
She then suggested, 'Oh, Josh, you need to show your dad all those outfits we got for you. Maybe a little fashion show right here." She indicated the living room. She waited two seconds, and then just burst out laughing. "Oh, you should see your faces right now! Absolutely priceless." Yep. She got us.
I actually got a good workout with my dad before we called it a night. There were a couple of machine exercises I hadn't done at the hospital, like the rowing and butterfly machines, that I did for the first time. I was rewarded with an aching lower back and felt like I had been punched in the chest two hours later.
The next morning, I was shaken awake by my mother. After my usual morning panic passed, I looked at the clock. It was barely 8 am, so I wondered what was going on.
