Chapter 2

The next day after breakfast at a road side diner, they returned to what Marsha would call home for the unforeseeable future.

The small, two bedroom trailer had been purchased by a dealer who renovated it, such as it was, and resold it at a tidy profit. Small though it was, Marsha made it home and began tidying up, hanging some curtains and otherwise making it a home.

Randy seemed appreciative of her efforts, especially since she did them on a shoestring, but his mother seemed to find fault with everything Marsha did. When Marsha had baked an apple pie to take to her in-laws, Norman gobbled his piece down but Cecilia picked at it as if it might be infected with something and finally pronounced it too tart.

She criticized the curtains and the linens Marsha had selected as well as suggesting Marsha might want to try a different hair style.

It wasn't long before Marsha quit visiting her in-laws any more than she had to and she stopped inviting them except when Randy insisted.

But Marsha settled in to married life and despite the difficulties she found some semblance of happiness even though Randy's fascination with her youthful appearance continued, especially when her body began to develop and her featureless figure began acquiring some sensuous curves.

"Oh, by the way, I got a letter from Trent. He wants to come for a visit. School will be out in a couple of weeks and he'd like to spend the summer," said Randy one morning.

"I ... uh ... sure. I'll fix up the other bedroom for him."

"He may just be fifteen but he learned about the birds and bees a long time ago."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"He likes girls, Marsha. He likes them a lot."

"Meaning he's experienced."

"Yeah, but I don't want him running around while he's here and possibly getting into trouble -- girl trouble."

"What can I do?"

"Well..." Randy smiled in a way she had never seen before, "you know, be friendly."

"Well of course I'll be friendly," she responded wondering what he meant.

"I'm sure you will," he smiled again.

A few weeks later Randy made the trip to the bus station to pick up the boy. Marsha had to admit he was a handsome lad, tall and muscular, shock of dark hair and those same eyes as his father.

Marsha felt ill at ease however, as the moment they met the lad eyed her up and down more than once, a slight superior smirk on his face. It was obvious he was checking her out and although Marsha knew that boys of that age with their raging hormones were wont to do so, it still unnerved her, especially the self confidence the boy showed in every aspect of his demeanor. Even after they were seated in the kitchen and she rose to get them all a soft drink, she could feel his eyes burning into her, exploring every curve.

"So what do I call you?" he asked accepting the cold drink.

"How about Marsha? I really do want us to be friends."

"Oh, I'm sure you and I are going to be great friends, Marsha," he responded almost in mirth.

Marsha felt a chill run down her spine, but when she looked to Randy he seemed to have noticed nothing unusual so she tried to overlook it. When questioned by his father, the boy talked about school, his grades which had been passable and his playing on the soccer team. Marsha was just beginning to relax a bit with the conversation turned toward the boy. That is until...