Chapter 3

As soon as we got home, Sarah started on the dirty laundry, while I put the perishables in the refrigerator. Then, while I went to my office to check the mail and phone messages, Sarah moved into the master bedroom. She hadn't consulted me, but I had no complaint. It was-naturally and necessarily-where she belonged.

When I emerged an hour later, she was done and had found the card from the fed. He was a Special Agent Norm Johnson of the Drug Enforcement Administration, Denver office. I tried to call him at once, but he was out-half of the staff of his office was still out on the long weekend.

Because we only had the one car, which we'd driven from Colorado, Sarah asked if maybe we should get a pickup for her to drive, which would also tow the boat if we wanted to go to Puget Sound next summer. We really did need another vehicle, so I looked at the ads and took her to a couple of places. She ended up with a van instead, saying it was more practical in Oregon's wet climate and would tow the boat with ease. (We'd made sure of that!)

As soon as we had it safely in the garage, alongside my 3-year-old Chrysler, we grinned at each other, pleased with ourselves. "Is there anything else you just can't live without, love?" I asked, facetiously.

"Well, as a matter of fact..."

Surprised, I asked, "Well? What?"

"I'd really like..."

"Come on! Spit it out."

"I really want to get pregnant and have babies as soon as you can arrange it," she said, with a happy grin.

"Oh. That... Always after my body," I teased. "Just as quickly as we can, honey. I can't think of anything I want more, either. Especially if they are all mellow kids like you."

"No guarantees on that. Just that they'll all be part you and part me and part mom, too," she said. A shadow passed across her face. Then, "Did you know that mom and I talked about this-having babies-your babies-just a few months ago?" My look of utter incomprehension made her giggle. "Yeah. Mom and I had several good 'girl talks' over the past couple of years. She knew I was hot for you and determined to have your babies. We'd have talked with you about it soon. But then there was the accident."

Sarah gave me a minute to digest this, then went on. "We both loved you more than anyone and we both wanted you to have more children, knowing how much you've always wanted them. Mom didn't have any problem with me having them for you-for all of us."

I'd noticed a special gleam in Sandy's eye during her last couple of weeks. I'd forgotten all about it, figuring I'd never know what it was about. Now I knew. I felt a sharp pang of love and loss for Sandy-such a special wife, who'd put aside the exclusivity which had been so important to both of us, in order to achieve something greater-the fulfillment of all the members of her family, herself definitely included.

"Thank you, dear, for telling me that. It's like your mom was here, blessing us, to hear that. She was really special-and so are you! Thanks."

Both of us had happy tears in our eyes, as we hugged each other, than kissed tenderly. In minutes, we were working hard to provide her with the baby we wanted so much. In a few minutes more, Sarah was screaming her completion and I was moaning in ecstasy, as I pumped into her hungry womb.

The next morning the DEA agent, Norm Johnson, returned my call from Denver. After hearing a short summary of my information, he asked if he could come to see me. I told him to come ahead.

That was dumb.

Sarah wanted us to get involved in the community. After all, we owned a home and were going to raise children here. For starters, she made a list of the churches in the area, but crossed off those from denominations she felt wouldn't fit our needs and beliefs. Then she located the rest on her map and drove by each one. If the church looked like the people who attended it didn't care about it much, she crossed it off, too. If she liked the outside appearance, she tried the door and looked around inside, if it was open. For those that passed that test, she wrote down the times of the services. We'd visit the most interesting and choose one to attend.

Next, she found out where the country club was and visited there. There was also a private golf club, which had tennis courts and a nice clubhouse-but membership was by invitation only. She got membership information about both, with dues and fees. She started asking around town about both places and about a couple of the churches that particularly impressed her. She made a point of getting references to professional people, too. "Who is the best family doctor around? Why do you like him? Who is your lawyer? How often have you used him? Why?" And so on. Sarah is very good at that kind of thing. She interviewed a couple of doctors and three lawyers, including one who turned out to live two houses down from us. While she was at it, she asked them about churches and country clubs.

The Sunday after Labor Day we attended the church that was on the top of her list. I confess I wasn't impressed. The building was lovely, but the congregation was small, the sermon was 'social gospel' and I was the youngest man there. Since we were going to have children, we needed a church with a program for children. Some people Sarah's age wouldn't hurt, either. We crossed that one off our list.

The following Friday evening, we had an invitation to join some neighbors for dinner at the golf club. Sarah was anxious, since we'd never been the 'country club type'-usually having just quiet family evenings on the weekends. Occasionally we'd go to a friend's for dinner, or have someone over. Sarah was nervous that she wouldn't dress right, or behave properly.

I grinned at her, told her to put on any nice summer dress-the one she'd been married in would be fine-and just act naturally. "Really, honey, you do much better with people than I do. Why don't you just pretend they're part of your research project and be 'Sarah'?"

She tried. When she appeared in the living room, dressed for the evening, I was stunned. This is one outrageously gorgeous woman! I guess my thoughts showed. Reassured, especially when I complemented her profusely on her appearance, Sarah decided she could do this.

Arriving at the club, we found that our party consisted of three other couples. One pair was Sarah's age, the other two older, but not as old as I. Age wasn't a factor, as we saw it. This was a new community for us and we wanted to meet people who would be our friends. We knew that our first impression on people would be that Sarah was a 'trophy wife.' After spending some time with us, most folks, especially those who became friends, would know different. For the rest, we didn't care.

These three couples all became good friends. The invitation came from our neighbors, Bill and Gloria Knight. Bill was a lawyer and Gloria had taught school, but quit after the birth of their second child-when Bill's practice was able to support them. Gloria called Sarah with the dinner invitation after Bill told her about his interview by their new neighbor.

John and Marcia Magruder were a couple of 'live wires'. They did the 'John! Marsha!' thing to perfection. We found it was a running gag with them and their friends. John owned a couple of businesses in the area, the main one being a large farm supply operation, serving four counties in two states; a tough, competitive business, at which he did very well. His 'sideline' was to own the marina where we kept Sandy, because he loved boats.

The youngest couple was Mark and Melodie McGuire, a very nice, very serious young couple just getting established. Mark was a dentist and Melodie was another teacher. They met the others through Gloria, who taught at the same school.

All three couples were attractive, nice people. They weren't 'swingers'. And none of them was a drunk-although we found that Melodie got a little tipsy after about two drinks and could be very funny in that state.

Of course, they wanted to know all about us, so we told them what became our 'official' story. My first wife had died in an accident and Sarah, a long-time neighbor, helped me with 'arrangements' and so on. One thing led to another-she had a crush on me since she was a little girl, it seems-and we found I loved her, too.

"When I found out Mike was going to move away, I wouldn't let him leave me behind," Sarah interjected.

Married recently, we moved out here because I felt my business could do better on the coast. California or Seattle would have been a bit better for business, but we wanted to live in Oregon. So here we were.

It was a good story. Mostly true. It would be hard to trip us up on it.

Of course, they wanted to know what I did and I was happy to tell them all about the world of high level consultants. 'Hired gun', I call myself.

Sarah, the excellent salesperson, didn't have any trouble selling herself as a friend and good person-and as a woman totally in love with her husband. She talked about the job she had cheerfully abandoned when I was hurt and how she might get into something like that here, but we weren't in any hurry for her to get to work. We were doing OK and we really wanted children right away.

While we were at it, we-well, mostly Sarah, 'cause she's so much better at it-pumped our hosts about themselves and others in the community. Doctor recommendations, churches-where did they go?-and so on. (That girl gets going on a research project, she just don't stop! But she's so interested, people fall all over themselves, giving her whatever she asks for.) We found that one doctor was consistently recommended for family practice and another for OB/GYN stuff. Sarah even started gathering information on pediatricians.

We found out that Bill's practice was mainly in business and real estate law and that his partner was excellent, in Bill's opinion, in torts and criminal work: The courtroom guy.

All our hosts had good things to say about the local schools, which pleased us. And there was an excellent pre-school in town.

All three couples attended one of the churches high on Sarah's list and they were happy to tell us about it. To hear them tell it, the church had a lot going for it. It served the whole range of ages, from newborns, to nursing home seniors. A fair number of professional and self-employed business people went there. And the programs were well organized and served the needs of the congregation and the community. We asked about the preaching and the beliefs of the church and were pleased with the answers we got.

As our meal reached the dessert stage, a small band started playing dance music. It was mostly 'slow dancing' music, with just enough swing and soft rock to keep it interesting. Nice, but not so loud it prevented conversations at the tables. John suggested we dance a little (He and Marcia love to dance) and continue our discussion after.

It doesn't take much convincing to get me to put my arms around Sarah, so we joined them. Suddenly it dawned on me that I hadn't danced with Sarah since her cousin Anna's wedding, when she was in high school. I also discovered I'd want to do a lot more of this. Sarah is a dream, dancing. She fit so perfectly against me. In heels, she's only an inch shorter than my six feet, so her cheek went against mine; and her hand around my neck, playing with my ear was a real treat. Of course, I enjoy being pressed up against those curves. She's a good dancer.

We danced a couple of tunes with each other, then switched off and danced with the others in our party. I was with Melodie, when the band started playing some swing tunes. She was really fun. She'd only done swing once before, so I had to help her get the hang of it. But once she got into it, she really got going. What a gas!

Back at the table, the others announced that Bill and Gloria would pick us up and bring us to church Sunday, then we'd all go out for brunch-the club had a great buffet on Sundays. Sarah immediately agreed for both of us. It pleased me, that she was confident enough to take charge where she knew I wouldn't have any objection. She knows Sandy made most of the social decisions-unless it was business-and just expected that she would, too. Besides, I trust her social instincts better than my own.

Sarah wanted their opinion about the other country club she'd looked at. They were unanimous that it was a fine place, too. They just liked this one a little better. Bill liked the layout of the golf course better, Marcia liked the food and the service better. (Turns out, a lot of folks belong to both, if they can afford it. I don't play much golf and am mediocre at best at tennis. But Sarah excels at both. This club offered a good golf course and very good tennis courts-even two indoor courts. The price was OK, so in a couple of weeks, Sarah arranged with Gloria for us to be invited to join.)

Our evening continued with more dancing and conversation. We were profuse in our thanks when we finally broke it up. Sarah was as favorably impressed as I and was very pleased with herself for getting us invited. I told her I was proud to have been with her and slyly reminded her of her 'butterflies' before we left home.

That earned me a whack on the arm-deserved.

In bed, Sarah was incredible. When I'd come once and she twice, she wanted to go again. I didn't think I could and it was late, after all. Using a 'little girl' voice, she said, "But daddy! You promised you wouldn't stop until you got me pregnant. I want my daddy's baby growing in my little tummy just like my friend Janie. You don't want my friends to think my daddy doesn't love me, do you?" Even though this fantasy contained a lot of our reality, her words got me hard as a rock for one more try at impregnating her.

That time, she climbed on top, plugged me in, and curled up to my chest, her marvelous breasts cushioned against me. Then she proceeded to milk me, without any other movement! It didn't take long before I was panting and my hips started jerking, involuntarily. Soon I was shuddering and gasping, "Sorry honey. I can't hold out long enough to get you off."

Into her fantasy, she replied, panting too, "It's OK daddy. Come in me. Make a baby in your baby girl, daddy. Come. Come. Come in me, daddy!" And she convulsed in climax just as I finished pumping my load into her.

When we'd caught our breath and cleaned each other up, we cuddled like two puppies. "Whew, honey! You sure do know how to get what you want from a guy. Twice in an hour is pretty spectacular for an old coot like me."

"'Old Coot', indeed! You're an awesome lover, you know? Tonight has been such a special evening, meeting new friends, then making babies with my handsome daddy-why, what girl wouldn't try for seconds if she thought there was a chance?

"It's funny, Mike... I was reading where most women only achieve orgasm every third time or so. Do you know, we've never made love where I didn't come at least two or three times? That's not because I'm so hot, like you try to flatter me. It's because you're an extraordinary lover, lover."

"Well, the only thing I can say to that is that I have excellent inspiration," I told her. "All I know about it is what your mother taught me. Did you know that we-she and I-never had any other lovers?"

"Yeah, she told me that was why your marriage was so solid and why you were still so much in love. You both worked hard to take good care of the other, so neither of you ever had any motive to stray. I'm mom's beneficiary in so many ways. Most of all, you. I love you, you know."

After a big, sloppy kiss for punctuation, I mirrored her thought, "Love you, too, honey..."

My next thought was, 'I hope I'll be able to get it up again in the morning?', when I noticed the smell of fresh coffee and it was morning. I probably could get it up, but Sarah had let me sleep in and we needed to get moving-we were going with another couple on the boat.

We'd rented a covered moorage, so Sandy was protected from direct sunlight and rain. But she still needed maintenance and regular cleaning. After our long, wonderful weekend aboard, we'd made time one afternoon to give her a thorough going-over. She looked good as new, inside and out!