Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Squirting,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - At 1:00 am, Tom arrived at his lakeside cabin for a week of peaceful reflection. Upon entering, he was shocked to find that an intruder was there. His discovery begins a story of intrigue, revelations, miracles and messages that change the lives of two lonely people. Pamela is fleeing a tortured past. Tom only wants solitude to grieve the death of his wife. Their encounter at the cabin sets them on a path neither had envisioned. This is a story of passionate love and forgiveness.
I glanced at the car's clock. It was almost 1:00 am. It'd taken much too long to get there. Atlanta's Friday evening rush hour was horrendous, and I had to stop for groceries and gasoline.
Arriving, I drove up the steep gravel lane to the cabin overlooking Lake Lanier. After pulling into the guest parking spot near the front door, I turned the engine off, took a deep breath and yawned. I was very tired and ready for bed but still had work to do. It was a dark moonless night and very quiet. The only sound was a splash when a fish jumped in the lake below.
Using a small flashlight to illuminate the lock, I opened the door and turned on the interior and porch lights. When entering the cabin, I was surprised to see two beer cans sitting on the kitchen counter. The kitchen was spotless when I'd left two months earlier and no one should have been here. The room was warmer than I expected, and I noticed several other items out of place. The sofa cushions were piled up, not in their normal position and someone had moved an armchair to the family room. It should be in the guest bedroom.
I walked to the fireplace and saw a few glowing embers. There'd been a fire just in the last few hours. There was a light smell of hickory smoke still present. Somebody was here and tingling fear shot through me. The poker from the fireplace was the only weapon I could find. Picking it up, I walked softly to the guest bedroom.
After slowly opening the door, I switched on the room light. All was in order. When I opened the master bedroom door and switched on the light, someone started screaming and screaming. It was obviously a woman and she could really scream; and scream, she did. She pulled the covers up around her and just peeked out as she screamed. The whole bed was shaking as she tried to protect herself with the blanket.
I held up my hands and said, "Please, lady, please stop screaming. I'm not going to hurt you. Please calm down."
"GET OUT!" she yelled as loud as any human voice I'd heard.
"Okay, okay, but please calm down. I'm not going to touch you. I'm very sorry I scared you."
She peeked out and said, "Well, you should be. What are you doing here?"
"I own this cabin."
She studied my face for a moment. I suppose she concluded I was telling the truth.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "If you'll leave me alone for a few minutes, I'll gather my stuff and get out."
I shook my head and replied, "It's much too late at night for you to leave. Why are you here?"
"That's none of your business."
"Okay. Maybe we can sort things out in the morning. I've groceries and supplies to bring in. Stay where you are and try to get back to sleep. You're welcome to stay here for now." She stared at me over the top of her bedcovers. At least she was quiet. I turned the room light off and closed the door.
While walking to the kitchen, I heard her footsteps running to the bedroom door. She locked it and I could hear the unmistakable sound of a chair being dragged across the floor and wedged against the door.
After storing the food and other supplies, I went to the guest bedroom. At least it had a full bath so I could shower ... except there was no hot water. I guessed the pilot light had gone out again. I wondered if she had been taking cold showers?
I lay awake in bed for a long time, unable to get her presence out of my mind. What was she doing here and how did she get in?
I finally fell asleep sometime in the middle of the night; and wouldn't you know it, I dreamed about her. For some reason, the name "Pam" kept coming to me in the dream. I didn't know anyone named Pam, but the dream seemed very real and, unlike most dreams, I remembered it when I woke.
The sun was just coming up and I needed to start a fire. The house was cold. I hurriedly put on trousers, a t-shirt and a robe I found in the guestroom closet. As I went through the motions of laying the fire and making the coffee, she was all I could think about. I didn't even get a good look at her, except the top of her head and eyes. Where did she come from?
Shortly after the coffee was ready, I heard her bedroom door open. She slowly came out carrying a suitcase and wearing a winter coat. I smiled but she glanced only briefly at me as she walked toward the front door. "I'm sorry," she said.
"Would you like coffee? I just made it."
She stopped and glanced at me and appeared to be uncertain of what to do.
"No, I'd better just go," she replied.
"I'd like you to stay and have breakfast. Can you at least do that? I promise not to touch you. Please stay."
Her resolve to leave seemed to slowly ease. After a moment she agreed. "Okay, maybe for just a little while." She removed her coat and laid it across the back of the sofa.
I poured a cup of coffee and sat it on the counter. "Do you take cream and sugar?"
"No, just black please." She walked to the counter, picked up the cup and stepped back. She was obviously scared.
She was a beautiful young woman, in very good shape, with long wavy blonde hair that fell well below her shoulders. I could see the outline of a very nice bosom and a narrow waist that flared into a firm and pert bottom restrained by her tight jeans. Her sultry eyes were an amazing blue color that gave a sparkle to her facial features.
I said, "We didn't get off to a good start last night and I'm sorry for that. My name is Tom. Can you at least tell me your name?"
My heart seemed to stop. This scared me and a sudden rush of tingling chills raced through my body. I felt lightheaded.
She said, "You don't look well. Are you about to faint?"
Holding onto the counter, I breathed deeply and slowly regained control. "I'm okay. Just hungry and tired, I suppose. I didn't get much sleep last night."
"I didn't either after you opened the door."
"I'm sorry for that. I didn't expect anyone to be here. Believe it or not, I'm glad to meet you Pam."
"Because you seem like a nice young lady that maybe needs a little help."
"I don't need anybody's help." Her eyes showed defiance.
I smiled and replied, "What can I fix you for breakfast? I've bacon, ham, smoked sausage and eggs. I can do pancakes or waffles or oatmeal."
"You're like an IHOP." She finally grinned, but just barely, and then looked away when our eyes touched.
"Well, I wouldn't say that but I think my pancakes are better than theirs. You want to try them?"
"And what about a few bacon strips?"
"That'd be good."
"Why don't you have a seat at the table and I'll get going."
"I think I'll go over next to the fire. It's very cool in here."
"Good, can you put another stick on?"
I worked in silence to mix the batter and heat the griddle while the bacon sizzled in a skillet. She stood with her back to the fire and watched, never seeming to take her eyes off me. I glanced at her a couple of times and smiled. She remained stone-faced.
In a few minutes, the first batch of pancakes was ready and the bacon was crisp. I heated maple syrup in the microwave in a small cream pitcher my wife had always used.
"I think it's ready. Come on over." She walked to the kitchen but kept the island counter between us. I respected that and put the platter with the food on the counter, along with her plate and utensils. I busied myself with the next batch while she filled her plate and sat at the table. She seemed to have a good appetite.
After a few moments, Pam said, "These are very good. What do you do to make them taste so much better than normal?"
"I add cornmeal to the batter mix. That gives them texture and adds a roasted corn flavor that's good with the syrup."
"I'm going to remember that."
"Can I ask a question?"
Her guard quickly went up but she eventually replied, "I guess."
"How did you get in the cabin? I didn't see anything to indicate a break-in."
"I found a key under the flower pot on the front porch."
I smiled and recalled, "I let a friend use the cabin last spring. I forgot to retrieve the key I left for him."
She asked, "Why did you come so late last night?"
"I had to drive from Chattanooga and hit rush hour traffic around Atlanta. Then I had to stop for groceries and gasoline. How long have you been here?" I glanced at her but she looked down.
"About a week."
"My goodness, what have you been eating? There wasn't much here."
"I found canned vegetables and you had some frozen meat. I also found a six-pack in the fridge. I'll pay you back."
"Don't worry about it. All that needed to be eaten soon anyway. Was the beer still good?"
"Yes, but why are you being so nice to me?"
"Why shouldn't I be?"
"Well, for starters, I entered your house without permission. I slept in your bed, burned your firewood, ate your food and used up a lot of electricity."
I replied with a smile, "This is beginning to sound like 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears'." She finally smiled. "You did that because you needed to. You did no damage at all. You were very neat. I don't think I'd have known you were ever here had you departed before I arrived. Sure, I might have missed the beer but probably wouldn't have remembered it anyway."
"I'm sorry I did it, but you're right. I needed a place to stay." She stood and walked to the counter. "Can we start over? I haven't been very nice to you and you didn't do anything wrong."
I smiled and she returned it. "I'd like that. Can we go over and enjoy the fire?"
Pam sat at the far end of the sofa and I sat in the armchair. We both sipped coffee and studied the crackling fire for a few seconds.
I broke the silence. "So, you've been here about a week. Why did you come to this cabin?"
"It was actually the third one I tried. The others were locked and I couldn't find a key hidden anywhere. I didn't want to just break in."
"Do you have a car?"
"Yeah, such as it is. It's in the garage around back."
After another moment, Pam said, "Since it's November, I was hoping that no one would be around. Most of the houses here at the lake appear to be closed up for the winter. Why did you come?"
"I always come for a week to relax, read and enjoy the quietness of the lake."
"Just my luck. There must be 150 cabins here and I picked the one that someone is coming to. But why do you come in November? It's cold here."
"Yes, but the fireplace makes it cozy and I enjoy the crisp air and solitude."
She sighed. "I guess all my screaming wasn't the solitude you were expecting."
I smiled. "You have a powerful set of lungs."
Pam smiled again. "Well, I need to be going."
"Where are you going?"
"I'll find someplace."
"Pam, I'd like you to stay. I promise I won't try anything. I can sense that something bad is troubling you. Maybe I can help." She sat and watched the fire in silence but was obviously debating with herself.
After maybe a half-minute or so, she replied, "Okay, but only for a day or two. I've some school friends in Atlanta so maybe I could contact them and see if they could put me up after that."
"Good. How about more coffee?" I asked.
"Sure, I'll get it." She walked to the kitchen, brought back the pot and poured fresh cups. I watched how graceful she moved and admired how perfect her body appeared to be. She was taller than most women at around 5'6" give or take, and had long legs like a professional dancer. Her tanned facial features were just breathtaking, like you see in men's magazines or in the movies. Those eyes were to die for.
"Pam, can we at least share a little information about ourselves?" She nodded. "I'm Tom Sumter and I live near Chattanooga. Have you ever been there?"
"Just driving through. I remember going by the river and seeing part of the city skyline. I was headed to Nashville with a friend."
"That's the Tennessee River and it makes a big turn and heads north where the Interstate passes. That's called Moccasin Bend or River Bend."
"Why would someone name it after a shoe?"
"It's actually named after the water moccasin snake. If you look at the river from the top of Lookout Mountain, it twists and turns like a snake as it makes its way around Chattanooga. I live on another ridge top called Signal Mountain. It's to the north of Lookout and it also has a nice view of the valley."
"Why's it called Signal Mountain?"
"Tradition says that early Native Americans used the cliff point there to send smoke signals that could be seen across the valley. During the Civil War, the Federal troops used it to send signals, I suppose using mirrors. Those could have been seen for miles from that point. What's your family name and where are you from?"
"It's Davis and I'm from a little village just outside of Greenville, South Carolina, toward the mountains."
"That's a beautiful area with the mountains and farms. I think Furman University is there, as I recall."
"It is. I went there for two years."
"Has your family lived in that area for a long time?"
"For generations. We were kind of an old-fashioned, traditional family. We had a farm and it was expected that we'd learn all the basics such as cooking, taking care of the livestock, repairing fences, putting up hay and so on. I've an older sister." She paused and stared at the fire for a moment. "We always tried to figure out how to avoid as much work as possible." She smiled. "Those were good times."
"Why did you leave Furman after just two years?"
She was very quiet for a few moments. I sensed she was struggling with what to say before she replied, "I thought I knew more than anyone else and I didn't need to go to college. Money was also tight and I thought I was just wasting it. That was a stupid mistake."
I was surprised at her apparent honesty. "What happened after you left college?"
"I left home. I was almost 20 and tired of the farm life. I wanted some excitement. While my parents and sister were away, I packed and left. My dad and mom had been strict and we were not allowed to do things all our friends did. I rebelled and, like a lot of dumb teenagers, thought I knew better."
"Where did you go?"
"A friend from school drove me to the bus station and I bought a ticket to Charlotte. A boyfriend that my parents didn't know about lived there. We had met at Furman and I thought I was in love with him. He had already graduated and was working in that area."
She continued studying the fire as she silently reminisced. A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away.
After a moment Pam said, "Oh, I need to put wood on. Excuse me." She walked to the back porch and came in with several pieces and placed them gently on top of the glowing embers. They began to pop and crack, and sparks flew into the fire screen. She sat on the sofa again but not so far away this time. She removed her shoes and curled her feet beneath her.
"What do you do in Chattanooga?" she asked.
"I own a few restaurants and a kitchen supply company."
She seemed very surprised. "How can you manage to get away for a week?"
"I've very good managers. They'd like for me to get away more often, I think." We both chuckled.
We studied the roaring fire for another moment before Pam asked, "Are you married?"
"I was. She died two and a half years ago."
She looked at me. "Oh no. Was it an accident?"
She stared briefly at me, obviously surprised. "That's a bummer. How old was she?"
"She was 29." After a few moments, I added, "We were born within a few days of each other and always celebrated our birthdays by coming here."
"When's your birthday."
"Oh! That explains why you came. I'm very sorry I messed it up for you."
"Well, you didn't know and you certainly aren't messing it up." We sat in silence and watched the fire.
Pam asked, "Do you have children?"
"No. We were just starting to try when we found out she had cancer."
"How did she find out?"
"We were making love one morning. I felt a lump I'd not noticed before. Of course that scared us. She went to the doctor the next day and the x-rays showed a possibility of cancer. She had a biopsy and an operation a month later. They removed what they could but it'd spread and was in her lymph system." I could feel a tear running down my face.
Pam glanced at me before saying, "That's tragic. I don't think I've heard of anyone that young getting breast cancer."
"We were obviously shocked. It was the last thing on our minds, in fact. But life is strange sometimes. We never know what'll happen. Just when you think everything is going great, it can suddenly change."
After a few moments I asked, "What happened in Charlotte?"
"Well, he was glad I came and there was an extra bedroom in his townhouse so I moved in. Of course, it wasn't long before we were sleeping together. I found a job in a restaurant as a cook but I really wanted to be a server for the tips. When an opening came, I jumped on it. The money was good but the hours were terrible. He worked days and I often worked nights."
"That's always tough on any relationship," I added.
"Yeah, it was. We slowly drifted apart and I knew our relationship just wasn't to be. He let me stay there until I found another place. A handsome police officer would often come to the restaurant and he always asked to be seated in my section. We hit it off. He was very nice and we started dating. Nothing serious at first; but he eventually asked me to move in with him and I did."
She suddenly paused and shook her head. "Why am I telling you this? We just met. No one knows this."
"Sometimes, it easier to talk to a stranger," I replied, "than to a loved one."
She continued to stare at the fire and we sat in silence for a while.
"That was another big mistake," she added. "He was always so nice at the restaurant and on dates but he wasn't as nice at home. Our sex was always rough, almost like he was raping me. He left me bruised many times and I dreaded making love to him.
"One morning, after he left for work, I was putting clothes away but had trouble opening one of his drawers. It appeared to be stuck so I pulled really hard. Suddenly, it broke free and I found that a book had been wedged in the drawer. I guess it was turned up and caught on something. It was a soft cover book and was partially torn from my jerking on it. I tried to straighten it out but it was damaged too badly.
"I looked through it to see if I could figure out what it was so I could buy him another one. It was just a small notebook with lots of names, what looked like phone numbers and symbols. I didn't know what to do so I put it back where I found it.
"Later that night, he saw it before I remembered to tell him about it. He screamed something about me looking through his stuff and hit me so hard that I thought he'd broken my jaw. I was both hurt and scared and ran into the kitchen to get away. He ran after me and threw me on the floor. He said that if he ever caught me going through his stuff again, he'd kill me. I believed him. I've never seen a person so angry."
"Did you call the police?"
"He was the police."
"What did you do?"
"I ran. The next day, I quit my job, packed the car and started driving."
"Why did you end up here, so far away from anywhere?"
"About five years ago, I came here with my uncle and aunt. My uncle was a keen fisherman and he loved coming to this lake. They asked me to tag along. I was just learning to drive and I studied the maps as he drove. As I was coming down I-85 a week ago, I suddenly remembered all the nice houses here. I looked it up on Google Maps and found my way. I figured he'd never find me here."
"Well, I'm glad you found your way."
"You are? Why?"
"Like you said, you're safe here and I got to at least meet you." She glanced at me but then quickly away as our eyes touched. We sat in silence and watched the fire as it popped and cracked, warming the room and us.
After several moments, she asked, "What are you thinking about?"
"Just all the things that have happened here. My wife's name was Lydia and she loved coming here. In the summer we would swim and take the boat out about every day. She loved to cook so it was always fun to see her in the kitchen and try her new recipes. Every November, we sat in front of the fire and talked like you and I are doing. I really miss her."
"This was your special place to be together?"
"Yes, it was. We came here at least three weeks every year. We didn't watch TV or use the phone or computer or anything. We were totally involved with each other, talking for hours, walking, boating, and cuddling together in front of the fire. This was our place of refuge and a time to be totally together."
"How long were you married?"
I glanced at Pam. "About seven years. We were married young. She had just graduated from UT Chattanooga before our wedding. We had dated for three years." I paused. "The ten years I knew her just weren't enough."
"I'm sure she loved you very much."
I glanced at her again and smiled.
After a minute or so I asked, "When I tried to take a shower last night, we didn't have hot water. Is it turned off?"
"I couldn't figure out how to turn it on. Nothing I tried worked."
"Have you been taking cold showers all week?"
"I heated water on the range in a big pot I found. That helped some."
"The pilot light must have gone out again. I had trouble with it before. Let's go check."
We walked together, actually with her several feet behind me, to the utility room. I sat on the floor in front of the water heater controls and looked inside to where the pilot light should be burning. It was dark.
"The pilot is out and it's tricky to re-light. I have to pull out the owner's manual every time just to remind myself how to do it. Can you look on that shelf behind you and find the manual?"
She handed it to me. I read the instructions carefully and followed the steps in the prescribed order. When I pushed the start button, the pilot and the burner ignited.
Pam was elated. "I can't wait for a hot shower."
"Me too. I'll need to change the pilot light nozzle this week. It's probably five years old. While we're near the porch," I said, "let's carry more wood in. Can you help me?"
I opened the door and walked onto the cold screened-in back porch. There was more than a full cord of wood stacked here when I left two months ago. It appeared that about a third of it was gone. "Well, you did burn a lot of wood. Has the heat pump not been working?"
"That was another thing I couldn't figure out for several days; but I finally got it on." She held her arms out and I stacked five pieces across them. I tucked another five pieces under my arm and we walked into the warm house and carried it to the fireplace. I put one piece on the fire and stacked the rest in the rack. This fireplace generated a lot of heat but it did consume wood quickly.
We resumed our places and I asked, "How did you figure out the heat pump?"
She glanced at me and said, "You're going to think I'm crazy but it came to me in my sleep."
Now she had my full attention. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"I'd tried everything I could think of. The thermostat indicated it was on. I checked the breaker box and the switches were all on. I turned them off and back on just to see if that worked, but nothing happened. When nothing worked, I just assumed the unit had died.
"I was asleep one night and had a dream. It was a very vivid one and, unlike most dreams, I remembered it the next morning. In my dream, I could see a switch outside on the house near the compressor unit. Now I had no idea that there was an outside switch. Anyway, I put on my coat and walked outside the next morning. Sure enough, it was there. When I pushed the switch handle up, the heat pump came on immediately. I can't explain how my brain knew about that switch. It was scary weird."
"I had the service man check the unit before I left in September. He probably left the outside switch off."
"Do you ever have dreams like that?"
"Yes, I do. Similar things have happened to me and I can't explain them either. I remember one in particular when Lydia and I were dating. A buddy asked me and another friend to go down to Myrtle Beach and play golf one weekend. He was planning to drive and I was all for it.
"Three nights before we were to leave, I had a dream that badly scared me. I saw his car in a terrible accident with the police and emergency vehicles surrounding it. That worried me so much I cancelled. I felt I was being silly and stupid about it so I never said anything to him, other than to be careful. The sad thing is that he did have a terrible accident and both he and his buddy were injured. I was shocked, dumbfounded in fact.
"How and why did I have that premonition? I've no idea. It really makes me wonder."
Pam added, "I'll share one other dream with you. Now this was scary to me. The first night I was here I had trouble getting to sleep. I guess the knowledge that I shouldn't be here was weighing on me and I was very restless. When I finally went to sleep, I saw a man coming into my room. It scared me so much that I woke up screaming. Of course, there was nobody there; it was just a dream. But, only six nights later, that exact thing happened when you came in. Now, how can I explain that? I'm not a psychic. Why did my brain give me a preview of what was to happen?"
I replied, "I suppose there are mysteries in life that we'll never understand or explain."
We gazed at the fire again before I asked, "Are you and your parents on good terms now?"
"No. My dad died early this year. He had a heart attack. My sister said he was heartbroken when I left. I assume he never really recovered from that. Mom and I occasionally talk but it's not like we once did. My sister is married and lives in Texas. We also talk two or three times a year but it's almost like we were strangers. Mom is alone but has some help on the farm. She's talking about selling it and moving to Texas to be closer to my sister."
"Is that why you didn't stop there rather than come here?"
"Yeah, I didn't think I'd be too welcome and I didn't want her to know I was running away again. I've really screwed up several times now and I'm ashamed of that."
"Pam, we all screw up in life. Some more than others, I suppose. I'm certainly not proud of everything I've done. My wife was about the most perfect person I've known but she messed up every now and then. It's part of our human struggles. What matters is whether or not we learn from it and become a better and wiser person going forward."
We sat in silence again and watched the fire before she asked, "Are you seeing anyone now?"
"No. I've dated a few times and had a couple of short relationships but nothing serious."
"You're a very handsome and successful man. I would think lots of women would be after you."
I smiled. "I suppose the right lady hasn't come along yet. After losing Lydia, my heart and spirit have just not been focused on finding a new wife. She made me promise I would but it's hard."
"I understand. It's got to be devastating to lose the love of your life."
I nodded silently.
After a couple of minutes I asked, "Is it okay if I take your suitcase back to your bedroom?"
She thought for a few seconds. "Okay, if you're sure you don't mind me staying another day or so."
"It's a privilege to have you, Pam. You're a very interesting young lady and I'm enjoying talking with you. Plus, tomorrow is my birthday, you can't leave me alone for that!"
She finally smiled a full smile and said, "Maybe I can bake a cake for you."
"We'll see, maybe a cupcake would be easier."
I carried her suitcase back to the master bedroom and noticed how nicely she had made up the bed and straightened up after herself.
Pam yelled from the kitchen, "Is it alright if I make some sandwiches for lunch? This ham you brought looks good."
"That'd be fine. I also brought potato salad, coleslaw and pickles."
I walked back to the fire and stood with my back to it, watching her work. Her skills as a restaurant cook showed. There were no wasted motions and she seemed to almost glide around the kitchen. Lydia had been the same way.
"I think we're ready. Come on and get whatever you want to drink."
I decided to drink water and she had a diet cola. We sat at the kitchen table adjacent to each other. Obviously, she was becoming more comfortable around me.
"After lunch, maybe we can go to the store and pick up a six-pack or two," I suggested.
"Cool. I liked that beer you left. Also, I need a few things."
We continued to talk about small things over lunch, mostly food likes and dislikes. I learned she liked seafood but not escargot or frog legs, both of which I like. We both liked steak, turkey and chicken but she loved ham and bacon. Turned out they raised a few pigs on the farm and her dad smoked the hams and shoulders and cured the bacon like it was done for the last few hundred years. Her knowledge of food and cooking impressed me.
After lunch, she asked. "Can I take a hot shower before we go out?"
"Absolutely. I need one too but you go first. Our water pressure is not so good here."
I watched her walk to the bedroom before I put away the food and cleaned the table and dishes. As the water ran in her shower, I sat and watched the fire burn down to just a few small flames. That brought back memories of Lydia and me waiting for her to shower and dress before we went out. There were just so many wonderful memories of her at this cabin and Pam brought many of them to mind. The way she seemed so comfortable in the kitchen and enjoyed gazing at the burning fire was the same as Lydia. Also, like Lydia, Pam was a great listener.
Following a shower and shave, I dressed in warmer clothes and walked to the car. She was surprised when I opened her door. "I'm not accustomed to this. Thank you." She said with a smile.
As we drove to the market some six miles away, we talked about the lake and how pretty this area is, no matter what time of the year.
"When I came with my uncle and aunt, we stayed in the small motel we just passed. I remember how clean it was. He took me out with him one day while my aunt went shopping. We had a great time. He let me reel in a small bass he hooked and that was fun. The first fish I ever caught. Do you fish?"
"Yes, but probably not as often as your uncle. Lydia and I'd go out once or twice every time we were here; but we usually didn't catch anything. I remember one time, she hooked one and it seemed to fight very hard, much more than normal. She was excited, and I was too. I was expecting it to be huge but it wasn't ... only a couple of pounds. Turns out she hooked it in the side, not the mouth. Evidently, that gave the fish more leverage as it fought. We felt sorry we'd injured it so badly. By the time I got the hook out, there was a nasty cut on its side. We normally released everything we caught but decided we better keep this one. It'd probably die a slow painful death and we didn't want that."
"Did you eat it?"
"Yes. Lydia looked up recipes for bass and found one she thought sounded good. It was ... no fishy taste at all."
"My uncle always released the ones he caught. He carried a small digital camera with him to take shots of anything he wanted to brag about later. He was funny. He couldn't wait to get back to the motel every evening and show us his trophy pictures." She chuckled.
"Did he often catch big ones?"
"Well, I couldn't tell. There were no reference points in the pictures to go by. I couldn't tell if a fish was a foot long or two feet long; but my aunt and I pretended to be impressed and happy for him. That's all he really wanted."
I added, "And I'm sure they continued to grow bigger over the years."
"Exactly, even before we got home, they had grown." We both laughed.
She asked, "You ever go fishing for mountain trout? I think I'd like to do that sometime."
"I love to fish in the streams. When I was a boy, my dad used to take me into the Tennessee mountains to fish. We usually caught at least one but sometimes we caught our limit of five. The Fish and Game Commission stocked most of the rainbow trout so they were fairly dumb. Hatchery trout will eat anything and completely ignore the fact that some guy was standing next to them in the water. A wild trout would've been long gone, hiding under a rock. Maybe I can take you sometime."
Pam glanced at me and responded, "I'd like that very much."
When we arrived at the Publix grocery, Pam saw a CVS pharmacy next door. She headed there while I did the grocery shopping. I'd planned for only my meals this week so I needed more coffee, bread and meat for her. I also bought a case of Stella, the beer she liked. I was planning for her to stay all week, although she hadn't committed yet.
As I was checking out, Pam walked in carrying a small bag. Seeing me at the register, she smiled and waved to get my attention.
While loading the items in the car, I asked, "Is there any place else we need to go while we're out?"
"Is there a bookstore anywhere around here? I'd like to look for something."
"I know just the place. There's a large one about five miles away. I'd also like to look for some new books. I think I've read everything in the cabin. I was hurrying so much to hit the road last night, I forgot to grab anything to read."
As I drove, Pam said, "I want to look for a book about dreams and what they mean. All these dreams have me wondering."
That surprised me. "Do you really think we can figure them out?"
"I don't know, but I'm intrigued. Why did they predict exactly what would happen and why did I remember them when I woke? I hardly ever remember dreams."
"I've had other dreams recently that I've not mentioned to you," I said. "I had some work issues come up a week ago and decided not to come as normal to the cabin this week. For three nights in a row, I dreamed about Lydia and her telling me that I should come. It was an odd dream and her voice in my bedroom seemed very real. Even this week, when I close my eyes at night, I can hear her as plain as if she were with me. This is very unusual. In the time since she died, this has not happened until recently."
"That's kind of scary," she replied.
"Lydia was a student of the scriptures and read them about every day. Her faith was unshakable. She told me one time about the number three and how it represented perfection and completeness throughout the Bible. That came to mind when she talked to me three nights in a row in my dreams."
Pam said, "I was never a strong Christian and don't know the Bible very well. Obviously, there is the trinity of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. But what other threes are mentioned?"
"Well, let's see. The earth was created on the third day according to Genesis. Jonah was in the belly of the fish for three days. There were three men of faith thrown in the fiery furnace but survived, according to Daniel. The ministry of Jesus lasted three years. Peter denied Jesus three times. Jesus was placed on the cross on the third hour and his body removed at 3:00 pm. His resurrection was on the third day. There were three disciples who saw the transfiguration of Jesus on Mt. Hermon-John, James and Peter. Only three angels are mentioned by name in the Bible-Michael, Gabriel and Lucifer. It goes on and on more than 400 times in the Bible."
We rode on in silence for several minutes, lost in our thoughts.
"Pam, I'm probably going to scare you with what I'm about to tell you. I think I shouldn't keep it from you since all these other dreams have occurred." I glanced at her and she stared at me.
"Last night, when I finally got to sleep, I dreamed of you and the name 'Pam' kept coming to me over and over."
"WHAT?" She sat with her mouth open and her hand over it while staring at me. Her eyes showed fear and she began shaking.
"That's why I almost fainted this morning when you told me your name."
"Holy crap! What's going on, Tom? This is scaring me to death!" She looked straight ahead with her hand over her mouth.
"Pam, I'm convinced there's something going on much bigger than we understand. Maybe we can find some books that'd help. There was one written a number of years ago by Dr. Billy Graham on angels. I haven't read it. I'll see if the store has it."
"Do you think an angel has been involved? Are we getting messages from God?"
"I've no idea. But something or someone seems to be communicating with us. Otherwise, I'm at a loss to explain any of the dreams you and I've had. The Bible talks about angels but I know little about them except for a few passages I read."
We rode in contemplative silence the rest of the way to the bookstore. As we arrived, I glanced at her again and saw a few tears running down her cheeks. I reached over and took her hand and she squeezed mine.
"Pam, we'll figure this out." I handed her a handkerchief and she dabbed at her eyes.
In the store, we split up. She went for the dreams and I went for the angels. About 30 minutes later, we left with four books including Dr. Graham's. As soon as I drove out of the parking lot, she was reading one of the books.
"Tom, it says here that our dreams are likely to be about situations or events that we'd like to have happen. But I never wanted a strange man to come into my room in the middle of the night."
"And it doesn't explain how I knew your name. You know, there must be a million names but my dream came up with 'Pam'. You're the first Pam I've ever known. How did that happen?"
She continued reading all the way home as I struggled to control my wild rambling thoughts.