Chapter 31

March came in like a lion with PMS as Lisa Carver did all she could to attract my attention, and Peter Hawkins, as Gail had warned me, had it all backwards. He threatened me several times, despite my assurances that I had no interest in his bottle blonde girlfriend.

This madness only served to bring Missy and I closer together. We shared memories from our past. We shared our impatience with the present. We shared our hopes for the future. I told Missy about my dreams, and she told me about her fears. I did my best to allay those fears, and I was surprised at how easily I could do this. I realized that as we shared ourselves, our hearts, Missy's confidence in us was growing very strong.

I found out later that Missy had gone to the doctor's office Monday morning. When I'd asked if there was anything wrong, she'd just smiled and said the doctor told her that there was nothing to worry about. She'd given me no other information, but her lack of concern reassured me, and I forgot about it.

We fell back into our Friday night date routine throughout March. Each date ended with an intense but short groping session. My hands and lips were intimately familiar with every inch of her boobs. There were a few short forays below the waist but they were fended off swiftly. I was encouraged when Missy began to explore a little, too, moving from rubbing my erection through my jeans to sliding her hand into my underwear and onto my cock. I never actually removed my pants, and Missy never lingered there too long. For Missy, though, it was a big step.

The arrival of April and some warmer weather was a relief to nearly everyone in town. March had proved a rainy month with little or no sunshine to warm the fields, and everyone was suffering from cabin fever and feeling just a bit water logged.

I enjoyed the serendipitous changes that accompanied the warmer weather. Winter coats were replaced by windbreakers and vests. Bulky sweaters were replaced by thin silky blouses and light sweaters that seemed to cling and emphasize rather than disguise.

The best part, however, was the appearance of skirts. It was like all of the girls at school grew legs all of the sudden. I mean the guys all knew they were there all along, but when the skirts sprouted in April, we no longer had to imagine, and it was a leg man's paradise.

Missy was no exception. She appeared at my door early on that second Monday of April. Her light sweater was open, showing her white blouse. After a steamy kiss, I followed her off the porch to her car and recognized immediately that the blue jeans were not pants, but a skirt that ended just above the knee.

"What?" she teased as I stared at her bare knees as she parked the car at school.

"I like skirts," I replied.

"Oh, and why is that?" she asked with a sly grin.

"It's so easy to reach over and do this." I slipped my hand onto the inside of her knee and slowly slipped it upward until she closed her thighs, trapping my hand between them just shy of her panties.

Her eyes were closed and she blushed, but she did not push my hand away. Instead, she sighed and then opened her eyes and smiled. "We need to get to class, John," she whispered huskily.

"We need to change our weekend plans, John," Missy said as she sat down next to me for lunch.

"This is not an April Fool's joke, right?"

"Besides being sophomoric, it's a couple days late for that," she pointed out reasonably. "No, Momma has decided that she is throwing me a big birthday bash this weekend. Momma's sisters and a few of her friends from school will be here, and I'm supposed to invite all of my friends from school." She laughed. You know, you've provided Momma a huge dilemma; this past year, Tracey has gained the reputation as the best caterer in town, but she is your sister. She isn't happy about it, but everyone's told her if she has it catered, she has to use Tracey." She shook her head and laughed again. "I didn't even have to say a thing." She suddenly sobered. "You did say Tracey had no plans this weekend, didn't you? I mean she's still available, right? That's why we were going out on Saturday."

"Well, Tracey didn't have plans." I grinned. "Besides, even if she did, she'd change them, for you if not for your mother. How many people are we talking about?"

"I'm not exactly sure. Besides my aunts and Momma's school friends, I guess she's inviting her other friends, too. Mr. Warren from the bank, Mr. Reynolds, our lawyer, and Mr. Perkins from the Factory are all going to be there. She also hinted that Daddy gave Mr. Reynolds something special to hold for me. You should probably have Tracey call her to get better numbers."

"Okay, I'll call Antonio's and cancel, and then I'll call Trace."

"Thanks, John. I sure hope Momma's not up to something. She's still not happy with us dating."

"I guess she doesn't like you robbing the cradle," I joked.

Missy giggled. "Yeah, right. You're what, two months younger than me? Robbing the cradle: next you'll be calling me an 'old maid'."

"Well, if the shoe fits..."

"Don't you even go there, John Robinson," she hissed with a grin. When the rest of the crowd got to the table, Missy told everyone else about the party, and the rest of lunch was filled with the girls all talking about what to wear.

The party on Saturday went well. Tracey had been excited about Missy's comment about being the best caterer in Ridgemont, and she set out to prove it, handling it with her usual ease despite the short notice and not having Liv or me available to help out. Liv was absolutely floored when Missy asked her and Wally to come as guests. Despite her mother's desire to have a big party, Missy only asked two dozen of her classmates and their dates to the party.

I'd just closed the front door after saying goodbye to Mary Jo and Jesse, the last of our friends to leave, when I heard a commotion near the kitchen.

"I don't want him there," I heard Mrs. Harmon say sharply.

"Well, I do," I heard Missy reply with a bit of heat. "If this is about my future, it affects him too. He should be there."

A calm male voice interrupted the argument to agree with Missy. "If what Melissa says is true, Annabelle, the boy should be there. It's what Morris would want."

"I won't have it!" Mrs. Harmon said angrily.

"I'm sorry, but as much as I love you, you don't have a say, mother," Missy said. "I'm eighteen. I get to decide these things for myself, now."

"She's right, Annabelle. Bring him to the study, Melissa. I'll start when you get there." The man turned and walked down the hallway.