Chapter 18

I settled next to Lindie after we'd had sex, needing twice a change of Trojans. We'd kept a damp washcloth and hand towel nearby to clean up with so we would not have to get out of bed to freshen up. As she cleaned me off one more time, I laughed and said to her, "You owe me one."

"Fine with me," she answered and as I moved to spoon tightly against her, my arms wrapped firmly around her. They were crossed in front of her, with my hands on her opposite breasts. She hummed when I kissed the nape of her neck.

She bent her chin down to touch her chest, humming more, as I licked away the moisture I'd left there from its wetness. I used the point of my tongue as if she was a McDonald's Ice Cream Cone.

"Do that again," she whispered as she noticeably shuddered.

Another pass of my tongue, followed with a wet kiss, elicited from her a giggle as she said, "That tickles!"

It had been many years since we'd had a tickling match. Somehow she'd always let me win. I started to release my light grip on her breasts when she sighed. "Not now Mikey," she softly said. "I just want to snuggle like this. It's been so long since I've had anyone just hug me and love me."

As I massaged her breasts a little, just moving the tips of my fingers she said, "Thanks."

"Michelle really had a wonderful time tonight, didn't she," I said to Lindie.

"I've never seen her so happy. Thank you so much Mikey ... for both of us."

It came on slowly but I sensed it coming. First she tensed as she fought it but soon her body released the tension she was feeling and sobs escaped from her. "It's been so long since I've been happy too Mikey ... So long."

I changed our position so she was facing me. I slid my right arm under her, holding her to me. My left hand began stroking her face and lifting the tears from it. I moved my lips to one trace rolling down her face and drew up her salty moisture, savoring it with my tongue.

"That night my mom stomped on her toy, was just about one of the worst. Michelle let out a huge scream and ran into our bedroom for refuge. She was sobbing uncontrollably. I sat on our bed with my back against the wall.

"I drew her up into my lap, my arms surrounded her. I hope you never hear it but, her cry turned into a desperate squeak of a squeal.

"I couldn't answer her when she cried in that high pitch, 'Mommie? Why did they do that to my Princess ... Why?' Mickey said as she sobbed and sobbed."

I can't describe the emotion I felt at that second. Frustration and anger swirled together perhaps. I blamed myself and Lindie for our fourteen year-old love and then I didn't. Confusion set into my head.

Quickly I realized, there was nothing I could do to change the past and what Lindie's family had done to her and our daughter. Like Lindie had told me. I had to let it go or it would burn a hole in me. All I could do was take a deep breath and let out a silent sigh to expel the hatred I was feeling seep into me.

How my two loves had come through the horror they had to grow up in is difficult for me to imagine. They had so little and yet, they are both strong and so capable of expressing love. Lindie's mother, as had her brother, truly missed out on my beautiful child's ability to give affection and the identical beauty of her mother.

Nothing would please me more than meting out some sort of justice to those two. It would have to be creative and one way or the other, I'd see they got their due. But for now, I had to let it go. What was the only thing that counted now, was I had my two Lindies.

"I'm not ever going to let you go," I told her and I was sure she heard the regret in my voice at not trying harder to find her. But what resources does a fourteen year-old have. What could I have really done?

Then something shocked its way through my mind. I had subconsciously wondered WHY Lindie hadn't tried harder to find me? I'd just answered that question. What resources does a fourteen year-old have? Especially when she is pregnant!

"I wrote you dozen's of letters Mikey," Lindie said after her sobs ran their course. "I kept asking mom for a stamp to send them but she laughed at me. After a while, I changed from writing letters and used one of my old notebooks from school here in Rock Creek to keep a journal.

Then in a very soft voice she added, "I had to keep the journal in secret and hide my letters to you. Whenever mom found anything I wrote to you, she'd rip it up.

"Mikey, I wrote to you every day for over a year. Sometimes two or three times a day. Right up to after a few months when Michelle was born." She sighed when she said that. "Then, it just became very difficult to write every day. She was a handful. A wonderful handful."

I brought my hand over to her head and stroked her hair, brushing at times down and over her ponytail. I love its softness and when Lindie paused for a moment to stifle another sigh, I said, "It's too bad we weren't together back then. I missed a lot."

Then as a sly smirk of a smile spread on my face I said, "We'll just have to make a couple of brothers and sisters for Michelle. This time I won't miss a second of them growing up."