A Well-Lived Life - Book 2 - Jennifer
Chapter 3: Trying to Fix Things

Copyright © 2015-2023 Penguintopia Productions

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 3: Trying to Fix Things - Following the dramatic end of Book 1, Steve is reeling from the devastating news he and his closest friends received. With their help, he begins to pick up the pieces and come to terms with the heartbreaking aftermath. Even as his body count of girls at Milford Junior and Senior High continues to rise, he develops several relationships that will drastically affect the direction of his life, starts a computer programming business and becomes aware of his little sister’s deepest secret.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   ft/ft   Mult   Teenagers   School  

June, 1978

On Tuesday evening, after Jennifer left, Melanie called. She asked how I was doing and told her I was better. Instead of feeling like my heart had been ripped from my chest, it just felt like I had a huge hole there. She said she was doing better, but still couldn’t believe that Birgit was gone. That made two of us.

She had called Pete. He was somewhat cold to her, but agreed to meet her for ice cream on Wednesday. I told her that was a good sign. I gave her the same marching orders as that day in the deli. Go apologize. Work it out. Make sure he knew she wanted him back. And that she was sorry.

“So,” she sighed, “what if he won’t take me back?”

“I think he will. Don’t go in with a negative attitude. Make sure he knows how you feel.”

“I will,” she agreed. “What about us?”

“There is no us until you do this, Melanie Spencer. And no sabotaging things with Pete so you can have sex with me. Remember what I said.”

“I do. Will you still be my friend?”

“I never stopped being your friend, Melanie. That’s why I’m doing this. I love you. I hope you know that.”

“I do. I guess I forgot when I got mad at you for not having sex with me.”

“Don’t forget again!”

“Yes, Steve.”

“Go get your boyfriend back.”

“Yes, Steve.”

I called Bethany and asked if it would be OK if I biked over on Wednesday morning. I needed to talk to her and it had to be face to face. She checked with her mom and said to come around 9:00am. I told her I’d see her in the morning.

I called Joyce and let her know. She was very concerned and asked if I needed anything. I told her that for the moment I just needed friends, and if she wanted to stop by on Thursday or Friday, I’d welcome it. She said she’d come by on Thursday afternoon.

I called Anna as well. She expressed her concern and said she wished she could see me before the end of the month. I told her I was doing OK and I had good support from my friends. She told me to call her if I needed to talk. I thanked her and told her I’d call her in a few days.

My last call was to Jennie. She started crying as I told her what happened. She asked if I wanted to come over on Sunday, perhaps I could do some yard work. I knew she wanted to talk and told her to please call my mom and ask her. I’d love to go work in her yard.

I pulled out my journal and started writing. I wrote five pages of my feelings about Birgit and what happened. I decided I needed to put it aside for a few minutes and try to talk to my mom again.

I found Mom and Dad in his office again. I shut the door, like last time.

“Mom. I know I said this before. I know you didn’t think I meant it, but I did. I do need to apologize for how I spoke to you. I completely lost my temper. It was disrespectful. I should not have done it. I was very upset and wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry.”

She was quiet again. I waited. Nothing. Dad spoke again.

“Judy, that’s enough. He is apologizing, damn it! This girl he loved died and all you can think about is that they had sex. What is with you?”

She got up and left the room. I started after her.

“Steve, let it be. She’s not ready to hear it. Give her a couple of days.”

“OK, Dad. I owe you an apology as well. I shouldn’t have spoken to Mom that way. I lost my temper. I was out of control. I know why, because I was emotional. But that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Son, I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. But you do have to learn to control your temper and your emotions. You really hurt your mom with the way you spoke to her. Wait a few days and try again.”

“Yes, Dad.”

I went back to my room and wrote several more pages in the journal.

Wednesday morning I awoke with a start. It took me a moment to gather my senses. As a morning person, I usually woke up quickly and bounced out of bed. Something was wrong. Then it hit me like a freight train — Birgit’s funeral was today. It was probably happening right at that moment! I cried. It took me about 20 minutes to compose myself enough to get up and shower.

I felt better after the shower, but I knew the hole in my heart would be there for a long, long time. I needed my friends. All of them. I was determined to fix every one of the relationships. Right now, Larry, Jennifer, Melanie, and Becky were a lifeline. Then there was Stephanie, who had been there for me since I had been with Birgit. They would get me through this.

I ate breakfast, checked the pool pH and chlorine, added some chemicals, then biked over to Bethany’s house. She let me in and offered me OJ or milk. I took the OJ. I told her what I had to say was really important and I didn’t mind if her mom was there. She looked concerned, but said nothing.

We sat at the kitchen table and I told her the broad outlines of the story, leaving out the fact that Birgit and I were lovers. When I got to the end, I had tears streaming down my face. I saw Bethany was crying as well. I apologized for upsetting her and told her I’d talk to her soon. I got up to leave.

“Steve, stop for just a minute,” Bethany said, sniffing.

She looked at her mom and they exchanged a look. I saw Mrs. Krajick nod. Bethany came up to me, put her arms around me, and hugged me. She kissed me on the cheek and told me how sorry she was. And then she let me go. It was only then that I noticed she hadn’t been shaking. I told her I would call her, said ‘goodbye’, and rode home.

I arrived home to find a message from Jennifer. I called her and she said she was checking on me and asked me to call her after Becky left, no matter how late. Her mom and dad knew I needed her and let her know that they would help in any way they could.

Around noon the phone rang. The voice on the phone raised my spirits immensely. It was Pete. Melanie had called him. They were going to meet later that day to talk. I told him I was happy for him. He told me not to get my hopes up because he was pretty upset with Melanie. I told him that I understood and hoped that he’d see fit to give her a second chance.

I told him I hoped we could get together over the Summer, and I really hoped it was a double-date. He told me he’d love to get together but the double-dates would have to wait.

When I hung up, I immediately dialed Melanie’s house, but there was no answer. I’d have to talk to her later. I went and took a shower and got ready for Becky to arrive. I was a bit nervous about the situation, and wondered if I was doing the right thing by seeing her. We hadn’t had the cooling-off period on which we had agreed.

I was concerned that Becky would see this as an opportunity. Maybe not consciously, but very likely subconsciously, she would think that the way clear. Birgit was no longer an impediment. As far as Becky knew, Jennifer and I were still on the outs. Of course, fixing my friendship with Jennifer took precedence over anything else I might feel for her now or in the future.

I ran through how I wanted to talk to Becky and what I wanted to say. I had to be careful not to give her false hope or deceive her. I had to guard myself against trying to fill that hole in my heart by making love with Becky. Doing that could be a disaster. I knew my emotions made me vulnerable. I’d just have to keep them in check.

I went to find Stephanie and asked her to keep an eye on me and Becky. If she wanted to sit with us, I’d be fine. What I didn’t want is for the situation to get out of hand. Stephanie agreed.

“So, Big Brother is afraid he can’t keep his hands off his ex-girlfriend?”

“Not funny, Squirt.”

“That’s what you just told me, if you think about it.”

“Yeah, I guess I did, didn’t I? And you’re right. I am afraid. I didn’t feel that way with Jennifer. I guess I trusted her to keep me on the straight and narrow. But I’m afraid Becky will try to take advantage of the situation.”

“She wouldn’t really do that, would she?”

“Maybe not consciously, but perhaps subconsciously. We loved each other pretty deeply. Now the thing that was blocking a permanent relationship is out of the way. I have to be super careful.”

“You know I’ll help, Steve. Just don’t be alone with her where something could happen.”

“I won’t. Thanks, Steph.”

“So long as you aren’t a dumb boy, you’ll be fine,” she said, sticking out her tongue.

“True.”

“Wait, what happened to your usual comment?”

“Not in the mood, Squirt. Not in the mood.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but Mom and I are fighting. She thinks you’re corrupting me and that I need to stay away from you. She is scared to death that I’m going to be like you, and she blames you for that.”

“I know, Sis, I know. I’m sorry.”

“You never did anything except what you thought was right. I couldn’t have a better brother. Mom doesn’t like it that you have lots of sex. I don’t think that’s your problem. It’s hers. And I will make up my own mind about it. But I’m not going to decide based on what she says. Especially after you figured out about her not being a virgin!”

“Steph, be careful. Don’t push her too hard. And be real careful on that virgin issue.”

“Well, I’m not staying away from you and I told her so. She wasn’t happy, but she can’t really prevent it.”

“You are awesome, Squirt!”

“I am, aren’t I?”

She just couldn’t resist the comeback.

I went to grab some lunch and picked up a book to read to wait for Becky’s arrival.

Around 1:00pm I saw Mom and I said, “I’m ready to talk when you are. Just let me know.”

She didn’t respond. I had been way out of line and I knew it. But, she still insisted on treating me like I was eight or so, rather than fifteen, with a life independent of her, at least to a point, with my own needs, desires, and dreams. I was growing up and she didn’t like it. I didn’t know if I could solve that problem or not.

Becky arrived just after 2:00pm. Her mom and dad came to the door with her and I invited them in. Becky hugged me and kissed my cheek. I was happy with that. It was a sign that she understood at least some limits were in place.

Mr. van Hoek said, “Steve, we’re sorry for your loss. I don’t know what to say beyond that. I know you and Becky had some kind of falling out, and I know you were taking a time-out, but I’m glad you called her. I hope you two can work things out.”

Mrs. van Hoek hugged me and said, “Steve, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

I called Dad to come to see Mr. van Hoek. I knew at some point they needed to talk and I figured face-to-face was good. They stepped outside to speak for a few minutes. I had an idea of what that conversation was about, but I figured Dad would tell me if I needed to know. Dad came back in and the van Hoeks left.

“Mom and Dad will pick me up when I call them. I brought a bag with a bathing suit and other stuff, so I can stay as long as you want, even overnight.”

“Thanks, Becky. Overnight isn’t a good idea, but stay as late as you are able and still have your parents get you, OK?”

“Whatever you need.”

“What I need is for us to talk. To sort out the mess we’ve created. To see what the next steps might be.”

“I’d like that.”

“Let’s go sit on the deck,” I suggested.

She nodded and we walked out past the pool, through the sliding glass doors to the deck. The day was warm, but not too warm, and there was a nice breeze. The heavily wooded ground behind our house rapidly sloped away, leading to a valley. The view was beautiful and for a few minutes, we just stood and took it in.

I motioned Becky to sit down. We sat side-by-side in deck chairs, facing the valley.

“Becky, I’m sorry about how things turned out between us. I want to discuss everything and get everything on the table. I want to have an honest, no-holds-barred conversation. OK?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll say right up front I am in no state to re-start our romantic relationship. My emotional state is, well, unstable; I guess that’s the best way to put it. For the same reason, I want to limit any physical interaction to hugs. I need these limits right now and I hope you’re OK with them.”

“Right now, I’m just glad you called me when this happened. That you would think of me and need me is important. From what you said, I can tell you are afraid I came here to try to get you back, to take advantage of Birgit’s death. And you know what, you are probably right to be worried about that. I did think about that. It was tempting. But I knew if I did that, it would make things far worse.”

“I’m relieved,” I replied. “I really am. So let’s start with the most important thing. I still love you. If anything, Birgit’s death has shown me just how important love is. I need as much love as I can get from my friends — you, Larry, Melanie, and Jennifer. I’ve already taken steps to repair my friendship with the girls, and to recover the one with Larry that’s kind of fallen between the cracks.

“Sadly, it took Birgit’s death to get Melanie and Jennifer to talk to me again. I’m going to take full advantage of that. Jennifer spent a couple of days here just being with me. As a friend, nothing more. We have a long way to go to repair our friendship and figure out where we are, much like I do with you.

“Melanie finally called Pete. I hope they work things out. Her making that call was the first step to repairing our relationship as well. That one is very different, of course. I’ve made it clear to Melanie that I’m not available in any way, shape, or form as anything other than a platonic friend. She needs to fix things with Pete. I’m pretty sure they’ll get back together. She’s had a huge loss as well — Birgit was like a sister to her.

“I spent some time with Larry, but not much. I need to spend time with him and just hang out. To get back to where we were. And to move forward. I need him as a friend and I’ve more or less let that friendship shrivel up. He’s hurting too, because Birgit was his friend.

“That brings us to you. I made quite a few mistakes. I missed a lot of signs. I didn’t listen to what you meant; I only heard what you said. The signs were all there and I ignored them. I let Jennifer push me, and you pull me, into a relationship that I couldn’t sustain; that I couldn’t handle. Don’t get me wrong, making love to you was fantastic, but it was also a mistake.”

“Steve, no! How could it be a mistake? We love each other!”

“Yes, Becky, we do. But that step meant something very different to you than it did to me. Yes, it was an expression of love. The thing is, for you, it was as if I had given you an engagement ring. To you, giving me your virginity was in exchange for a promise for me to marry you eventually. You told me that in so many ways. Yes, yes, I know you said otherwise, but I ignored all the signs. In effect, I made love with you on false pretenses.”

I had tears now — and they weren’t tears for Birgit. They were tears for me. Tears for Becky. Tears for a ruined relationship. I couldn’t give her back the thing I took from her. She wouldn’t have that to give to anyone else. For some people, it wasn’t that big of a deal. For Becky, I was sure it was.

“Becky, as I see it, your virginity was something precious you wanted to give to me on condition that I commit to you, kind of a pledge, I guess. Even though I was saying otherwise, I believe that’s what it meant and what you meant by it. I can’t undo it. I can’t make any promises or commitments to you. I hurt you and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Steve, I admit I lied to you. I did think that making love would pull you away from Jennifer and Birgit. But I lied to myself, too. I heard you say what you did. But I didn’t believe you. Or rather, I believed that making love with you would overcome your resistance. That was dumb.

“But, it was amazing. As much as you’re right about the pledge, I don’t want it back. Sex with you was so good, it showed so much love and it moved me deeply. Remember, too, I wanted it, and not just for the long-term relationship I wanted, but because my body ached for you. Remember the day after Thanksgiving? I almost got past my fear and did what you wanted. Not because of the bet, but because I had a deep, uncontrollable need to be with you physically. I don’t understand it; maybe I never will.”

She had started crying as well. We had it out on the table. The question now was where did this lead to? I truly had no idea. My mind mapped out the possibilities like moves on a chessboard. But the lines and variations were infinite. Jennifer figured prominently, just like before. What I had to do was avoid re-creating the same horrible situation.

I had to think about Bethany, Anna, and Joyce as well. I was still seeing them and developing a relationship with each of them. Each offered something unique, something different, and in the case of Bethany, something completely unknown and quite risky. My safe option, if there was one, was Jennifer, but I knew I wasn’t in a state to make that decision, and despite our banter before she left, it might never happen.

What did I want from Becky? I had no idea. None at all. All I knew was that I loved her. What I didn’t know was if we could establish a friendship. Would she see that as a promise of more in the future? Did I want to date her? Would she see that as a promise? Could I trust her if she said she didn’t? Only time would tell. I knew I had to ask her.

“Becky, what do you want to do? How do you want to move forward? What do you want? Be honest. If you aren’t, then we’ll end up right back where we were at your house when we dropped the chains on the bed.”

“I have no idea,” she sighed. “When you left and we were going to take a month off, I knew it was over. Even if you came to dinner after a month, the necklaces on the bed told me we were through. I hated it. I hated you. I hated myself. I cried myself to sleep holding those necklaces. They’re actually in my bag. Not because I thought we’d get back together, but because I want you to keep yours, even if you never wear it again.

“What we had was special. I would be a liar if I said I didn’t want you back. But I can’t handle your conditions and you can’t handle my requirements. Not now. Maybe not ever. I hope that’s not true. I hope somehow, in some way, fate is playing tricks on us now and that in the end, we’ll be together. But I know I can’t plan on it.

“What do I want? I would like nothing better than for you to take me to your room and make love to me one last time. Well, maybe not the last time forever, but the last time for now. But you already took that off the table. You’re probably right — I don’t know if I can handle being friends. I don’t know if dating is the right thing to do. I just don’t know.”

“How about we just agree to talk on the phone?” I asked. “Talking can’t hurt anything. It will keep us connected and we’ll see where things lead. I can’t promise anything except to be your friend. I hope you’ll let me. But I’ll understand if you can’t. Will you at least try?”

“I guess I can try,” she replied, sounding depressed. “For you, I guess I can try. I still love you so much it hurts. I miss you. Yes, let’s do that.”

I stood up and took her in my arms and hugged her. We stood there for a few minutes.

“Would you still come to dinner in 3 weeks as we agreed?”

“Yes, of course,” I said.

“And if I ask you to make love to me one last time then?”

That was a minefield I knew I shouldn’t enter. But I didn’t want to hurt her. Or lead her on.

“I can’t answer that question now. I’m pretty sure it’s a bad idea. But we’ll talk about it then. OK?”

“Yes.”

“Want to hop in the pool?”

“Sure.”

We spent the rest of the day in the pool, and playing pool. We took a long walk and just talked. After dinner, she called her parents to come and pick her up. When she hung up, she went to her bag and pulled out the chain with her ring on it, and handed it to me. I took it and walked her down the hall to my room. I hung it over the post on the headboard of my bed. She smiled at that.

We walked back to the living room to wait for her parents. I told her to call whenever she wanted to talk and I would do the same, but at least once a week until we met again for dinner at her house. We sat in silence then waiting for her parents. When they arrived, I hugged her and we exchanged a quick kiss, and then she got in the car and they drove away.

I went to call Jennifer as she had asked me to do. She asked a few questions and I think she was satisfied that I wasn’t going to change what I intended to do. She encouraged me to remember that she loved me and was there for me whenever I needed her.

After I hung up, I wrote a couple of pages in the journal, trying to sort out my feelings. They were so jumbled and conflicting that I couldn’t do it. But, I was a bit more upbeat. I had fixed things to a point where I was talking to the people with whom I had broken relationships, and that was good.

On Thursday morning I made a decision — I called Bethany and asked her to ask Doctor Mercer for the name of someone who dealt with teen problems and with grief. I had seen how Doctor Mercer was helping Bethany over her trauma, and how Jennie McGrath had suffered for five years before being able to get on with her life. I didn’t want that to be me.

Yes, I was trying to move forward and keep a positive outlook, but I was still in such turmoil that I didn’t trust anything I was thinking or doing because of all the emotions. Was I trying to fill the hole by papering over things too easily? Was I going to fall back into the same traps? I didn’t want to. I needed help.

Bethany said she would ask. I went to tell Dad about that and he was a bit surprised. When I explained that I thought I needed help with my temper, my emotions, and dealing with Birgit, he gave his approval. I told him maybe it would help with Mom. He thought it might, but she was still in a terrible state. I said there wasn’t much I could do until she was willing to talk. He nodded in agreement.

On Thursday afternoon, Joyce came by as planned. When she came to the door, she told me to grab anything I needed and come with her. I asked what kind of stuff I might need. Anything I’d need on a date, she said.

I went to my room, grabbed my wallet and my house keys. I thought about it for a moment, and then grabbed a couple of rubbers from my box. She had said whatever I needed for a date. I knew I could certainly use that kind of release, at least physically, but was Joyce the right person? I’d cross that bridge if and when we came to it.

I told dad that we were heading out and that I’d be back before 10:00pm. Joyce and I got in her car.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Well, how about some ice cream to start?”

“Sounds good. It always cheers me up.”

She drove us to Graeter’s. We both ordered sundaes.

When we sat down to eat, Joyce smiled and said, “Do you want my cherry?”

‘What?!’ I thought but didn’t say. She had to be joking, but, why not play along.

“Sure! I was wondering when you would offer.”

I took the cherry from her sundae and popped it into my mouth.

“Not that one!” she said breaking out in laughter.

She was teasing me.

“Too bad you couldn’t keep a straight face. I might have actually believed you.”

“Yeah. I know you needed cheering up so I thought I’d pull that line and see how you reacted. I guess it’s a good sign that you went along with it.”

“Yeah. I’m in a bad state, no question. I asked my dad about seeing someone to work on my temper. I really laid into my mom the other day. She was on my case about having sex with Birgit instead of letting me deal with her death. I completely lost it. I was out of control. I need to learn how to control my temper and emotions better.”

“That’s good, I think. Let me ask you, though, just out of curiosity, mind you, if I had kept a straight face would you have believed me?”

“Maybe. You’ve implied several times that at some point our relationship would progress past kissing. But you’ve always been very, well, conservative with how you handle that. And I’m fine with that. I’ve told you that several times.”

“Yes, you did. And you don’t think I’m a tease?”

“No Joyce, you’re not a tease. I wouldn’t mind if you teased me more. There’s a difference between being a tease and teasing. The first one is when you purposefully get the guy all excited and imply that things will happen, but then leave him hanging. The second is making jokes and being silly. I remember a female friend once was eating a banana, and doing so suggestively. Then she bit down. Hard. We both laughed about it. That’s teasing. And it’s just fine.

“Remember, I obey the boundaries. So if lines are drawn, I’m OK with it. That’s not being a tease, either. I’d say it’s when you draw a boundary, but then go past it, only to bring it back. And you do that repeatedly. So, say, your rule was no touching under clothes, but then you put your hand in my shirt. Then when I tried to do the same, you stopped me and said no touching under clothes. And then you did it again. That’s when it gets to be a tease.

“It’s kind of hard to explain for me because most guys think getting them worked up and not giving them ‘relief’ is being a tease. I don’t. Sure, I have the same urges, but I also know that no girl owes me anything. That was really driven home by a new friend of mine who was raped before I met her. She wasn’t being a tease, she just kissed the guy and let him touch her over her clothes. He took that as license to rape her.”

“Oh my God!” Joyce gasped. “So he thought she was being a tease or playing hard to get when she tried to stop him from going further?”

“Yeah, I would say that’s probably true. It’s also possible he decided he was going to have sex with her no matter what she wanted. If I ever find out who it was and meet him, I’ll be sure to ask him before he dies.”

“What?!”

“I have no idea who it is. She won’t tell me, and that’s probably best all around. But a guy like that who would hurt a sweet young girl like my friend, well, he deserves whatever might come his way.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Joyce, no girl owes any guy anything. Ever. You only do what you want when you want and nothing more. Any guy who doesn’t follow that rule is, well, slime.”

“You know, you’re pretty amazing. So you follow those limits? Really?”

“Joyce, I’ve had a naked girl in front of me, saying she wanted to have sex and I made her put her clothes on because I could tell she was scared out of her mind. Her body was screaming for sex, but she wasn’t mentally or emotionally ready. So I refused.”

“Wait, you had a naked girl in front of you and you refused to have sex with her?”

“Yes. Even though she said there were no boundaries, there were. I sensed them. And I honored them. I did eventually sleep with her, but that was some time later. By the way, this same girl got into bed with me at a party and I turned her down then, too, because I didn’t have any birth control available.”

“So a girl could trust you to not take things too far then?”

“Absolutely.”

We finished our ice cream and then walked along Main Street and along the river. We talked. I told her the complete story about Birgit, about everything that had happened, and about our plans. I cried, of course, but not quite as much as earlier in the week — I guess I was more or less cried out.

Joyce didn’t say much, she just listened and asked the occasional question. I found the more I talked about Birgit the better I felt. Not that I was feeling good, but that I was somehow coming to terms with her death. I wasn’t sure I’d be over it until I was in Stockholm to say goodbye. And I knew that would tear me to pieces again.

Eventually, Joyce suggested we get some food. I suggested Skyline and she thought that was a good idea.

“Should we get it to go and take it back to your house?”

“We could, though I have another option if you trust me.”

“I think so, but tell me first.”

“First, I need to check something.”

We walked back to her car and I directed her to the apartment building. I asked her to wait in the car, checked the mailbox to find no letter sticking out. I opened it and adjusted the envelope and went back to the car.

“Let’s go get our Skyline takeout.”

“What were you doing?”

“Checking if my boss’ apartment was free, and it is. We can eat there, if that’s OK. If you aren’t comfortable, we can take it to my house and eat on the deck.”

“So we’d be alone?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t say anything more until we had driven to Skyline and got our order. We walked back to the car.

“So, where to?” she asked.

“That’s up to you. Apartment or house. Either one is fine. No expectations either way. And no disappointment.”

“I can trust you?”

“Yes. But you have to make the decision.”

She put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. Left would be my house; right would be the apartment. She turned right and navigated back to the apartment building. We walked up and I let her in. I put the food on the table, turned on the radio, and went to the fridge to grab a couple of Cokes. I laughed when I saw the sundae stuff still there.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, you remember that story I told you about the ‘cherry’ girl? Well, I have chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and cherries here. I made a ‘Kellie Sundae’ when we came here.”

“So this is how you manage to have sex without getting caught!”

“Well, yes and no. I’ve been lucky enough to have been with girls who have understanding parents.”

“You have sex at their houses? And their parents know?”

“Crazy isn’t it? My parents would flip their wigs if I did that at my house. But I’ve been lucky.”

“My parents would kill you if you tried that,” Joyce declared.

“I’d be more worried about your grandfather.”

“Yeah, there is that, isn’t there?”

“I’d be afraid to find a horse’s head in my bed.”

“Grandfather is too nice to do that,” she smirked. “Well, because he likes horses so much.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But I’m a boy, not a horse.”

“True. So what is this ‘Kellie Sundae’ thing?”

“I put chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and a cherry on, uhm, interesting, spots and then licked them off.”

“You didn’t!”

“I most certainly did! And if you would like a demonstration, all you need to do is ask.”

“I’ll let you know,” she giggled nervously.

I just smiled. We got out our food and ate our 5-way chili. Skyline Chili was some of the best in the country, and having it 5-way was the way to go. It started with spaghetti covered with chili, then shredded cheddar cheese, plus onions and beans. Great stuff.

We finished eating and I tossed the bags and containers in the trash. I excused myself to take a leak and came back to find her sitting on the sofa. I went and sat on the opposite end of the sofa and just relaxed.

“I don’t bite, you know,” she said.

“That’s too bad,” I said.

She laughed. “Don’t be so sure! Remember your friend with the banana!”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly.”

“Were you inviting me to sit closer?”

“Yes.”

I moved to sit right next to her. I took her left hand in my right and we just sat there quietly. I wasn’t sure if I should progress things or not. I was content to sit there just holding her hand. I wondered how far this would go, and how far I would let it go. I was so messed up emotionally I didn’t know if I could handle it.

Truth be told, I was a bit gun-shy. Sex had messed up so many things in my life. If this were Mary, I’d have no qualms at all. The same was true with Melanie, if Pete weren’t in the picture at all. I still had to decide what to do about Vickie, though that situation was very different from this because there was no risk of a relationship given that we were first cousins, and even if it went badly, we could easily avoid each other except for the mandatory family gatherings. Even then it was easy enough to stay apart and move on with our lives.

My mind was wandering again. It was no surprise to me that it wandered to Birgit. I missed her. She had such a healthy outlook on life; I wondered if I could develop something like that. Develop the confidence to do what she did; gain the understanding of life she had. In my mind, I shook my fist at fate for taking such a wonderful person so young.

I pulled my thoughts back to the here and now. What was I doing? Why did I offer to bring Joyce here? Why did she come? I think the teasing about the cherry pulled me back to Kellie, which made me think of this place. So I had offered, expecting to be turned down. But she said yes. Her voice snapped me back to the apartment.

“What are you thinking about?”

“My mind was wandering. It does that a lot. I try to think about what I’m doing and analyze why I’m doing it and what the right thing to do is. Doing the right thing is sometimes hard. Knowing what the right thing to do in any situation is even harder. And I’ve had times when I could only do the right thing by doing the wrong thing first!”

“That’s heavy; too heavy for me to think about.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s OK,” Joyce said. “What else were you thinking?”

“About why you came here with me. About what you want. About what I want.”

“And?”

“That’s dangerous territory,” I said.”

“What do you want, Steve?”

“Joyce, being with you is enough. I’m content if we just sit here and hold hands.”

“That’s not what I asked. What do you want? What do you need?”

I sat there for a moment, thinking about the answer. What did I need? What did I really want? Joyce was desirable. She might be available, if I understood the implication of her question. But did I want her to do something out of sympathy? Was that right?

A thought popped into my head, unbidden, from some deep, dark place. Did I really care? Did it really matter? I loved Birgit and she died. I loved Becky and I lost her. I loved Jennifer and I lost her. I might never get them back. Perhaps I should just say ‘screw it’ and have a good time. That was, more or less, Stephanie’s advice months ago. This was raw emotion, almost hatred, raging against the universe.

Joyce was here alone with me, and it seemed that she was implying something. If she was offering, I was going to take it. I just didn’t care right now. I was angry. The anger was welling up. Why didn’t I just take her and do it? Just grab her, kiss her and make her want me? Screw her silly. Fuck her brains out. Whatever phrase was appropriate. As long as she didn’t resist, just pound her and make the pain stop.

I had shoved it down for five days, trying to fight it with friendship. I had to let it out. Fortunately, a calmer, saner part of me fought back, and fought back hard. I couldn’t do that. That anger wasn’t me. At that moment I realized I really did need help; more than I thought when I asked Bethany about it.

I struggled mightily and finally got hold of my run-away emotions. It was a close thing, and I knew it.

“I’m not in a good place right now. If I answer that question, I might hurt you and wreck our friendship.”

“What do you need?” she asked again.

I had an answer, and I hoped she wouldn’t misinterpret it. I wondered if it was even possible? Love hurt. Love was making me crazy. Love caused me to hurt people unintentionally. I had a giant hole in my heart that I didn’t think could be filled. I hoped she understood.

“To be loved. That’s all.”

She took me in her arms and I broke down, though not quite as bad as on Saturday night. I simply collapsed in her arms. I felt that same ripping, tearing feeling of my heart being yanked from my chest. Joyce was amazing! She simply held me, stroked my hair, and let me cry.

It took about 20 minutes for me to be cried out and compose myself again. I got up and looked out the window. I was feeling terrible. My nose was clogged, my throat hurt, my eyes were red and I had a headache.

“Do you mind if I take a hot shower?” I asked. “I’ll only be about 15 minutes. I just need to use the steam and hot water to help clear my head and relax.”

“Go ahead.”

I went to the bathroom, shut the door, and stripped off my clothes. I adjusted the water to as hot as I could stand and got in. I stood under the spray and just let it cascade over me. After five minutes I started to feel a bit better, at least physically. My head was clearing. My emotions were still a mess, and no shower was going to fix that.

There was a knock at the bathroom door and Joyce opened it just enough to ask if I was doing OK. I told her I was but I wasn’t ready to get out yet. I heard the door close. A few seconds later the shower curtain moved. It was Joyce, and she was naked.

“Joyce, what are you doing?”

“Helping you. Just be quiet.”

She grabbed the shampoo and washed my hair. She soaped my body. It was odd. It wasn’t sexual at all. It was just pure loving, pure caring. She had me rinse off, then turned off the water. She got a towel and dried me off. She had me step out of the shower and handed me one piece of clothing at a time. Then she dried off and dressed and led me back to the couch.

It was, perhaps, the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. She put herself completely at risk, completely vulnerable, to help me. It dawned on me that I had never even really looked at her, and that I hadn’t had an erection. I was blown away.

“What was that about?” I asked, softly.

“You said you needed to be loved. I knew you didn’t mean going to bed together. I felt that I could trust you completely, so I came and showed you as much love as I could.”

“That was amazing. I’m blown away. Can I tell you something funny?”

“Sure.”

“I didn’t even really notice what you looked like naked.”

“I’m pretty sure that someday you’ll have an opportunity. No promises, of course, but I think you and I both know it’s probably going to happen sometime. This is not the right time, Steve.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

We cuddled on the couch for quite a while. We left the apartment after cleaning up. I adjusted the envelope in the mailbox and she drove me home. She walked me to the door and gave me an amazing French kiss that held serious promise.

“Not maybe, but yes. I’ll let you know when. Call me in a few days, OK?”

I went inside and went to my room. I wrote in my journal about the amazing young woman who had done exactly what I needed that day.

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