Chapter 17: Making Things Right

After school on Wednesday Peter and Greg could hardly contain themselves. It had been a while since they had gone to Louie's; they were ready to leave for dinner right after they got home from school! When it was finally time to leave, Trisha found herself a bit nervous. She asked Mark to drive; she didn't think her nerves would be settled until she saw her eldest enter the pizzeria.

When they got there, the boys were eager to go to the game room. Trisha allowed it, with the strict warning that they had better come when they were told dinner was delivered. Soon after the boys left for the game room, Jeremy and Rachel arrived. Jeremy looked as anxious as Trisha felt. When their eyes met, they both smiled and some of the mutual anxiety seemed to melt away. The couple came directly to the table.

"Where are my brothers?" Jeremy asked, surveying the room, after greeting Trisha and Mark.

"In the game room," Trisha replied, looking toward the game room door. "Where else? I didn't tell them you were coming; I thought it was a better surprise this way." Jeremy just nodded. The foursome exchanged some pleasantries and soon the dinner had arrived. While Mark went to retrieve the young boys, Trisha and Rachel busied themselves with pouring the sodas and getting plates and such. As the boys approached the table, you could hear the squeals of delight.

"Hey, squirts!" Jeremy greeted, standing as his brothers pummeled him. He was happy; they were happy. As the boys sat down, Jeremy introduced them to Rachel and the dinner conversation flowed. All too soon, Jeremy announced that he and Rachel needed to leave.

"We've got to work tomorrow, but I'll see you soon," Jeremy promised; hoping to spend as much time as possible with them before leaving for the Navy.

"I tell you what," Mark offered. "Greg and Peter are at their dad's this weekend. What if we have Sunday dinner at my house after the boys return? Do you play pool, Jeremy?" Immediately, Greg and Peter urged their brother to accept, enticing Jeremy with stories of the wonderful pool table that Mark owned. Looking toward Rachel for approval, Jeremy agreed and got the address and phone number from Mark.

"Are you staying tonight, Mark?" Greg asked as they pulled into the driveway after dinner.

"Not tonight, guys," Mark answered. To their continued urges, Mark replied, "I didn't bring a change of clothes this time." Trisha shooed them into the house while she remained with Mark for a few more minutes.

"Do you really forgive me?" Trisha asked, concern shadowing her face. Without hesitation, Mark cupped her face in his hands and dropped his lips to hers. When his tongue began to caress her lips and coerce her mouth to open, he softly moaned. As their kiss deepened, Trisha's hands found their way to his neck, encouraging him to continue.

"Sweet," he began, breathless after releasing from their kiss, "I'm the one that needs to be forgiven. You did nothing wrong."

"I lied to you," she pleaded.

"You chose to not divulge a painful experience," Mark corrected. "So, if you forgive me for acting like a horse's ass; and, if that kiss is any indication, I think you do; then we can get back on track with the business of us." Trisha reached up to pull him closer to her again.

"Not tonight, Sweet," he complained. "I'm not going to be able to stop; I've missed you so much! Friday night, we'll be all about making up properly, what do you say?"

Reluctantly, she placed a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose and then turned and exited the truck. It was hard for Mark to leave that night, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Trisha had been inundated with many intense feelings over the past couple of weeks. He wanted her head on straight, when he fucked her senseless. He couldn't stop the smile that lit his face at that thought.

Friday morning, when Trisha arrived at her desk, there was a single red rose resting on her computer keyboard. A smile crept over her face; the card read "Tonight, Sweet".

"Trisha, you feeling okay?" John asked. He had approached Trisha's desk and started talking with her, but she hadn't acknowledged him yet. When she turned and showed him the rose, John understood. "Just as he can be an ass when he's not trying, he can be a pretty sappy romantic when he is trying." All Trisha could do was smile and nod.

The morning went by quickly. John pulled Trisha into a meeting with him to present some changes to their employee documentation for approval. Afterwards, John escorted Trisha to the lunchroom.

"What do you want for lunch," John offered, "my treat." Trisha didn't really want to eat anything, but knew that John wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, so she decided on a small salad. As they approached their usual table, Trisha noticed another rose. The card attached to this rose read "Toes". Trisha was hoping to question Mark about this, but he never showed up for lunch. She would call his office later, she assured herself. When she returned to her desk, there were three more roses waiting for her. Their cards read "Knees", "Fingers", "Elbows", respectively. Trisha wasn't sure what Mark was doing, but it was getting her aroused.

When she tried to call his office, his phone went directly to voicemail. She decided to go to his office; he couldn't avoid her all day. When she arrived, his office was empty. Mark's assistant noticed Trisha approaching, and stopped her before she left, giving her three more roses. When she returned to her desk, she read the cards. "Neck". "Earlobes". "Shoulders". Trisha was starting to get wet and, for the life of her, didn't understand why. These were only words. And, besides, she never envisioned herself as the flower-type girlie-girl.

Throughout the afternoon, co-workers would stop by Trisha's desk and deliver other roses. Each one had a different card attached. Before she left, she had eleven roses, and eleven cards. "Tonight, Sweet", "Toes", "Knees", "Fingers", "Elbows", "Neck", "Earlobes", "Shoulders", "Back", "Chin", "Lips". She thought she would combust before reaching Mark's that night. It took all her resolve to keep her mind on her work. As she was shutting down her computer for the weekend, John came over.

"Did you survive?" he asked, trying hard to suppress a chuckle.

"Barely," Trisha admitted.

"Oh, yeah," John feigned forgetfulness as he turned to leave and then turned back. "It's not good luck unless it's an even dozen." And, with that, he presented Trisha with the twelfth rose of the day. When she read the card, she couldn't help but moan. "Come" was all it said. John grinned as he watched Trisha quickly leave; his best friend was one lucky dog!

When Trisha arrived at Mark's, she was tense with anticipation. Mark met her when she entered his house.

"I've ordered Chinese," was all he said in greeting. He proceeded to relieve her of her overnight bag and coat, careful not to ruin the roses she carried in her arm. "Let me put them in water," he whispered, taking a nip at her ear after placing a small kiss on her cheek. Trisha still stood there; she was trying to keep herself from jumping in Mark's arms and taking him right there in the kitchen. He smiled to himself as he noticed Trisha's tension. When Mark returned to where Trisha was still standing, he decided to put his plan in motion.