Chapter 42: Will You Be My Valentine?

February, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday morning, while Stephie and I were driving to school, she asked what I was doing for Valentine’s Day. I let her know I was going to Ohio, but that I’d be happy to celebrate with her either on the 11th or the 16th, because I was taking the three-day weekend in Milford.

“I guess that will have to do,” she sighed, “because it does make sense that you would be with Kara on Valentine’s Day.”

“Are you going to be OK, Peaches?” I asked.

“Do I have a choice? Don’t mind me. Like I said, I knew exactly what I was getting into. And you like what you got into!” she added with a smirk.

“Oh, I most certainly do like it! Peach juice is one of my favorite things!”

“And you can have that anytime you want, Yankee! So how about the 11th? We got karate class, but we could skip that and go to dinner, then go back to your place and make love.”

“It’s a date!” I said.

I parked and walked with Stephie to her dorm to drop her weekend bag, then we walked to class.

The next two weeks flew by. I wanted to do something special for Stephie, so I made reservations at Chez Paul, a renowned French restaurant in Chicago. It didn’t quite match the quality of The Maisonette in Cincinnati, but it would certainly be a new experience for Stephie. I did check to make sure that she had a nice dress to wear, teasing her that a gingham dress was not considered formal!

“You know, Yankee, one of these days, I’m going to take you down South and show you that we ain’t nothing like you think!”

“Peaches, I’m teasing. I’m absolutely sure that a proper Southern Belle has the attire to go to a place like Chez Paul.”

It turned out she did. When I picked her up at IIT after having gone home from the computer lab to put on my black suit, she came into the lobby in a gorgeous emerald green gown that perfectly accented her body. Her hair was draped over her shoulders and she had on ruby red lipstick and pale green eyeshadow.

“Why, Miss Scarlett, you are a sight!” I drawled.

“Oh stow it, Steve!” she said with no trace of her Southern accent but a huge smile.

We got into my Trans Am and headed for the north side of the city. Chez Paul was in the McCormick Mansion on Burton Street. I pulled up in front and turned the car over to the valet, then we walked up to the door, which was opened by a doorman. The maitre’d quickly found our reservation, and we were seated at a small table near the front of the room.

“I’ve never been in a place like this!” Stephie declared, her accent returning. “Not even close!”

“I went to one in Cincinnati with Bethany. That’s where I got the idea.”

“This place must be crazy expensive, Steve! I’d be happy with pizza!”

“Don’t worry, and just enjoy it. I make enough money from my business to do stuff like this every once in a while.”

The service was over-the-top, just as I had expected, and the food was fantastic. Unfortunately, my dad didn’t know the owner, so we couldn’t have wine with our meal, but that was the only negative and it was a small one at that. But then, I suppressed a smirk, knowing that I’d be drinking the ‘blended wine from her goblet’ later on! I wondered if it was possible to make wine from peaches.

“What’s so funny?” Stephie asked, seeing me fighting the smirk.

Caught!

“Oh, nothing, Peaches, just enjoying the moment.”

“Yeah, and what’s coming later, right?” she asked with a sly smile.

When we finished, rather than retrieving the car from the valet immediately, we walked arm in arm around the neighborhood in the cold Winter air, just enjoying each other’s company. Eventually we made our way back to the valet who brought the car, and then we headed back to Hyde Park.

“Wow! Look at you two!” Elyse said when we walked in the door. “Let me get a picture!”

She ran to get her 35mm SLR and took several pictures.

“I could take some in an hour or so, if you want,” she giggled, “though I’m not sure where I’d get those developed!”

I was surprised when Stephie laughed and teased back, “This hot bod? You’d be able to sell them for millions!”

I chuckled and Elyse laughed hard as Stephie and I walked down the hall.

“You’re a whole new person, Stephie,” I said.

“Remember the comment about hanging around with you? I think you’ve rubbed off. Nobody at home is going to know what to do with me! I’m all citified and open about sex and stuff now!”

“Are you complaining?”

“Only if you don’t get this dress off me and have peach juice on your face in two minutes! Then you’ll hear complaining!”

It was a close thing, because I didn’t want to mess up the dress, but two minutes later, my tongue was in her tight pussy, and I soon had peach juice all over my face. Not long after that, I had it all over my dick as well. Before we were done, we’d done it from just about every position — me on top, her on top, from behind, and me standing holding her legs on my shoulders. We’d only done anal that one time, and she’d not asked for it nor given any indication she wanted it again, so I didn’t try, but by the time I thought of it, I was tired, sweaty, and satisfied, and Stephie was exhausted.

“Pretty good, Yankee, I got no complaints!”

“Me neither, Peaches!” I smiled, pulling her into my arms.

We fell asleep in the tangled, soiled sheets, our bodies pressed together and my arms tightly around her. In the morning, we showered together, and then had breakfast with Elyse before heading to school. I was heading back to Milford as soon as my history class was finished, so after lunch, Stephie and I kissed deeply and said goodbye. She was going to take the El out to Hyde Park on Saturday to go to karate class and then have lunch with Elyse and Warren.

I was happy that Warren was still around. He was slowly but surely coming to grips with the craziness that seemed to follow me around wherever I was. He had, much to my surprise, commented that things were way more exciting around my friends than around his High School group. It dawned on me that his life had been very much like Elyse’s, though he’d never had the kind of sexual relationship she’d had at a young age.

As soon as class let out at 4:00pm, I quickly walked to my car and saw my Georgia Peach leaning against the driver’s door.

“I came for a kiss!” she said with a big smile.

We kissed deeply, hugging each other tight.

“See you Monday night?” she asked.

“Absolutely! Shall I pick you up?”

“No, I’ll be hanging out with Elyse for the weekend. I assume you don’t mind me sleepin’ in your bed while you’re gone?”

“Of course not! Have fun and don’t get too crazy! Do you want me to drop you there? It’s more or less on my way and would only add maybe ten minutes to my drive.”

“Sure. She’s not expecting me, but I guess that’s not a problem.”

Stephie ran to the dorm and was back ten minutes later with her weekend bag. That meant twenty minutes, but I’d still be in Milford before 11:00pm, so I wasn’t too worried. I had no plans to see anyone other than Kara, though I would see my little sister for swimming and breakfast all three mornings I was home. Pete and Melanie had said that they might drive down on Saturday if Kara and I wanted to go out. I just needed to call them on Saturday morning.

I dropped Stephie at the apartment, made sure that she got inside, and she and Elyse both waved to me from the bay window in the living room. I got back in my car and headed for the Dan Ryan Expressway to start my drive back to Milford. I quickly realized I wasn’t going to make quite as good of time as I had thought because a light freezing rain began to fall. Traffic quickly slowed, and it took nearly an hour longer than I had planned to get to I-65 in Indiana.

February, 1982, Milford, Ohio

Fortunately, the weather cleared as I headed south-east and I made up a bit of time by pushing the speed limit. The national 55MPH speed limit was annoying as hell because the roads were constructed for 70MPH. I ended up arriving at the Spencers’ house at 11:45pm. Mrs. Spencer was waiting up for me. She let me in, handed me my key, and then headed off to bed. I went upstairs, used the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and collapsed into bed, remembering just before I fell asleep to set the alarm.

On Saturday morning, I quickly dressed and headed over to my parents’ house. I used my key to let myself in. My mom had, at one point, insisted that I give her my key, and I had, but my dad had given me another one. I went down the hall to my old room, changed into my swim suit, and knocked on Stephanie’s door. She came out, gave me a quick hug and then we went to swim. It had been a couple of months since I’d been swimming and she managed to outpace me for the first time in years.

“Getting out of shape, Big Brother?” she teased.

“No, but karate and jogging don’t build the same muscles. My chest aches from doing the crawl for fifty laps!”

“Wimp!” she giggled.

I flicked my towel at her and she danced out of the way. We went down the hall to our rooms. Once we’d each showered and dressed, we met in the kitchen for breakfast. I started preparing everything and a few minutes later, my dad came in and greeted us. We talked while I fixed breakfast. He asked about Kara and I told him that I was basically spending the weekend with her, though she’d have to sleep at her house each night. He was glad that I’d come to see her for Valentine’s Day and was sure she’d appreciate it. He asked about my trip to DC.

“It was interesting. I really like the Voronins, and it’s really funny that I get along really well with the head of his security detail, a Colonel Yekaterina Sergeyevna Anisimova, of the KGB!”

“KGB? Russian diplomats? That’s a very interesting situation. You want to be somewhat careful how involved you get with them.”

“Dad, they are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. And I’m certainly in no position to provide them with anything other than friendship. I’m just a college student with some programming skills. It’s not like I have a security clearance or anything!”

“I understand that, Steve, but just be careful. If you sense anything strange at all, let me know.”

That was an odd thing to say, and it didn’t make sense, but I guess he figured he could give me advice instead of having me go to the FBI and causing trouble for myself in the process.

“I will,” I said as I put breakfast on the table.

We ate and then Stephanie and I cleaned up and true to form for just about every Saturday morning when I had been living at home, my mom and Jeff came into the kitchen just as we were finished. Neither of them said anything to me, and I chose not to say anything to them. The last thing I wanted to do was engage in conversation with my mom.

Stephanie was a bit disappointed that I wasn’t going to have much time to spend with her, but she understood that it was Valentine’s Day weekend and that Kara and I needed to be together.

I left home about 8:15am because Kara was expecting me at 8:30am. I pulled into her driveway at 8:28am and she came tearing out the door before I’d even shut off the engine. I got out of the car and she jumped into my arms and hugged me tight.

“Hi, Snuggle Bear!” she gushed.

“Hi, Honey! Happy to see me?” I grinned.

“I’ll show you if you take me somewhere private!” she smirked.

“I think I know just the place!” I grinned.

She released me from her bear hug, and I opened the passenger door to let her in. I saw her mom standing in the front door and waved to her, then got into the car and headed for the Spencers’ house. When we walked in, Mr. and Mrs. Spencer were eating breakfast and asked us to join them for coffee. We sat down and Mrs. Spencer poured coffee for us and offered us something to eat. Both of us had eaten breakfast already, so we declined.

“On Sunday, Frank and I are going to go out for Valentine’s Day and spend the night in a hotel. You kids can have the house to yourselves. Melanie suggested that Steve might want to cook a romantic dinner for you, Kara.”

“I owe Melanie one!” I said.

“Careful, Steve,” Mrs. Spencer teased. “She might take you up on that!”

“No, she won’t,” I replied with a smile. “She and I have an agreement and I’d never, ever do anything to upset Pete.”

“A wise move, Steve,” Mr. Spencer observed, “Pete is likely to have a gun and a badge in eighteen months. He plans to apply to the FBI and the Marshals Service.”

“Interesting. I never did see Pete as a beat cop. Both of those make sense. I guess that means that he and Melanie won’t marry until she graduates in ‘84 because he’d have to go to training in Virginia for the FBI and could be assigned anywhere. I’m not sure where the Marshals train,” I said.

“Most likely, though, if he could get assigned in Columbus or Cincinnati, they might get married sooner,” Mrs. Spencer said. “It doesn’t actually matter when they tie the knot, those two are already married!”

“Well, if the gorgeous blonde to my left has her way, that’ll be us in five months,” I teased.

“Don’t listen to him, Mrs. Spencer,” Kara said with a smile. “He’s counting the days more carefully than I am!”

“Just because I know that it’s exactly 147 days until she moves in with me does NOT mean I’m counting!” I grinned.

“See!” Kara said with an even bigger smile.

“Melanie said she was positive you two were going to make it. No offense, but she always thought it was going to be Jennifer.”

“None taken,” Kara said, “I thought so too, a year ago. Or at least I was afraid that was the case. But things have worked out the way I’d hoped, well, minus the engagement ring, but that will come in due time.”

“Speaking of Melanie, Kara,” I said, “do you want to have dinner with them tonight? Pete said if we called them by lunchtime, they’d come down for dinner.”

“Sure! That would be fine. I’ll be done with you by then,” she smirked.

“Done?” I chuckled, “I doubt it!”

Mr. and Mrs. Spencer laughed, and we all got up from the table. I borrowed the phone and called Pete and Melanie’s apartment in Columbus and they said they’d be at Melanie’s house around 5:00pm. When I hung up the phone, Kara and I headed upstairs to the guest room.

“What can I do for you?” I said with a smile.

“You can get your clothes off and get into bed with me, future husband of mine!” Kara said, as she quickly shed her clothes.

“You’re getting pretty bold there, Miss Blanchard!”

“No, bold would be if I stripped downstairs at the kitchen table and told you to fuck me there!” she giggled.

“Kara Anne Blanchard!” I said in mock horror.

She laughed, “You know darn well I’d never do that!”

“Actually,” I said quite seriously, “I don’t know that at all.”

She stopped short as she was getting into bed and looked at me as I finished taking off my clothes.