Chapter 14

Tim's turn:

I've become a legend for all the wrong reasons. Well, I guess that's incorrect. Kimberly Elkins is the very right reason. Medium-sized town. Many of the people I work with are married to or related to or friends with people at Kim's high school, so outside the few that already know who I'm marrying because I told them, there are others who found out from that other path.

Some people shake my hand and congratulate me. Some just ask if it's true. Some shake their heads.

Sitting in the kitchenette with a cup of fresh coffee and a vendor-supplied pastry, talking with our office administrator, Gail.

"Okay, Tim ... You've pretty much gone off the deep end, huh?"

"About what?"

"Not what, who. Your sixteen year old fiancée."

"Ah, my Kimmy," I said. I can't avoid smiling when I think about her. Gail noticed.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're happy. I wish you all the best. But that news doesn't sit well with a few people."

"Oh, let me guess. Forty year old guy, sixteen year old girl. Exploitation written in big red letters all over the place. Am I right?"

"Pretty good synopsis," Gail said. "Sister-in-law teaches at the high school. Word's out in high school."

"So Kim's told me."

"It's pretty much common knowledge around here, too. Some of the ladies at the office, one in particular, were[PtC1] very vocal about how wrong it was."

"According to whom?" I asked. "It's not the norm, but wrong? There's a lot of ways this might be wrong. We're not about any of them."

"Well, you know all the stories about exploited girls, Tim," She said.

"Nobody's exploiting anybody here, Gail. I'm not chaining her to the bed. She's not some socially stunted feebleminded moron. She's an honor student in high school and she'd be rich if she had a buck for every time somebody thought she must be pregnant. She's not. She's bright and she's funny and she's pretty, at least by any standard I care about."

"Wow," Gail said softly. "You get rolling, don't you?"

"My favorite person on the planet. We're talking about her."

"You're serious, then."

"Gail, I'm dead serious. Do you think whoever it is that's upset is in position to make trouble here for me?"

"Nah," Gail said. "You might not have a lot of time in this place, but you're getting a reputation for having your stuff together." She smiled. "Of course, most of that is because I keep you between the lines."

"I humbly acknowledge that I would be a mere worm without your guidance," I said.

"And your Kim KNOWS you're like this and she still wants to marry you?"

"Her only flaw," I laughed.

I didn't expect everybody to be onboard with the marriage of a high school girl to a middle-aged engineer, but the idea that somebody would think badly enough to tell others, well, that's uncomfortable.

Buzz walked in on the conversation. "Ah, donuts! Days are better when you get your Vitamin D." His eyes flitted between me and Gail. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Gail was catching me up on the perceptions of my impending nuptials."

"Mostly good. As in 'Man! He got a sixteen year old?!?' You're a legend."

"Apparently not everybody thinks favorably. Gail says..."

"I know who you're gonna mention," Buzz interrupted, shaking his head. "Up at the Ivory Tower. Woman's got her nose in everybody's business, and that same nose stays out of joint. If I was you, I wouldn't send 'er an invitation."

Gail laughed. "Buzz, you disappoint me. I'd recommend that not only he send her an invitation, but he include a picture of him and a mini-skirted bimbo wearing a pushup bra and a bare midriff with a tattoo."

"Gail!" he squawked. "I had no idea your head worked in that direction!"

"Used to not," she smirked. "Your bad habits rub off on me."

Of course, Buzz has actually met Kim a few times and he knows that miniskirts and bare midriffs are not in her repertoire.

He didn't let that stop him. "Tim, I have a niece who we could pose for that photo," he grinned.

I left him and Gail giggling and went back to work. Working through a couple of proposals kept me occupied until lunch, then the rest of the day slipped past. The whistle blew and the majority of the workers made a mad rush out the gates. As with most days, I didn't join the race. I sat in the lunchroom with a couple of co-workers. We used the time to catch up on the latest rumors.

Yes, I'm one, me and Kim, that is.

"It's a good thing," I answered in response to the usual questions. "If she had ten more years, nobody'd question a thing, but the point is, she's smart and sane and quite the cutie on[PtC2] top of the other stuff."

"Yeah, I can understand sanity being attractive," one of the others said. "I've been with some who didn't meet that standard."

Home. Kim's on the sofa, smiling. "I love you, Timothy," she said.

"I love you too, Kimberly. And I'm glad you're sane."

"You're glad I'm sane? What brought that on?" she questioned, rising to kiss me. "Besides who says either of us is sane? I have a lot of people telling me that I'm crazy."

I sat back on the sofa and tugged her into my lap, a wonderful thing wherein her arms go around my neck and her face ends up at kissing distance.

"I had the same conversation, little brown-haired girl."

She turned her eyes to mine, connecting. "Are we really crazy, guy? So many people think there's something wrong with this."

I stroked her sleek hair, planted a soft kiss on those red lips. "Kimberly, nobody gets to say we're crazy. We're outside the normal range on a lot of standards, but we're not crazy."

She kissed me back. "I'm not crazy, Tim. This ISN'T crazy." Another kiss. "We have each other. We have your family. We have Aunt Jen and Laci. And I'm sure the 'that's crazy' business is not universal among our friends."

"You're right, you know."

"I'm used to being right, you know." She did that smile that got me in trouble in the first place. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"Not a single one. I'd give up the world to keep you."

"I'm not giving up either, my Timothy." Resolve filled her eyes. "I know what 'forever' means. People are going to talk. I listened to 'em talk about Mom, and when they got enough of that, they talked about me. When they run out of facts, they make things up. But they talk."

I nodded. Kimberly on a roll. Listen.

"I don't know what reaction they're looking for. Was I supposed to start crying and flop down on my knees and beg and say 'You're right! I'm shit! It's exactly like you say. Momma's a whore and I'm a whore too.' and beg for release? I don't think they knew what they wanted, besides the opportunity to talk down somebody else to elevate themselves." She heaved in a breath, restarted. "And what would that get me? What would THIS get me? I mean, if you and I were to say to all those people, 'You're right! We're wrong for each other. We're separating and going our separate ways.' Would that DO anything except validate their idle minds for that one topic, leaving them to go on to something else to be wrong about?"

"Wow!"

"Tim, I've been through this with Mom. You and[PtC3] I? We're just the topic of the week. I love you. Period. No, check that. I love you. Ellipsis. It just trails off into infinity. No end. I love you. Not that 'write your name on a page in flowery script' that passes for adolescent love. I'm sure. This is it. Forever."

"I worry about you, little one," I said. "I'm up to anything they can throw at me, but I worry about you."

"Don't worry about me, sweetie," she replied. "I've been through a lot. In four months, when I'd be starting to show a pregnancy, there are a lot of clucking tongues who will have to re-evaluate their suppositions. And by then I'll have been walking the halls sporting my wedding band for three months. And I'm sure there'll be some other earth-shattering event for them to talk about. You're not getting shed of me because a bunch of people need conversation in their lives."

"Good!" I exclaimed. "A man doesn't get too many winning lottery tickets in his life. You're mine. What's Jen say about all this?"

"Oh, pretty much what we say. She keeps me posted on what goes on in the teachers' lounge. I know she's taken my side before, so I'm sure she's still doing it." She paused. "Speaking of ... What about dinner?"

"We could order a couple of pizzas and have Laci and Jen come save us from the horrors of leftovers."

"That's good. All this talk is waaay too serious, Tim. Make me giggle!"

That's an order I can easily accommodate. If those ruby lips are within range, so's an ear. And a neck. And I can make my baby squeal and giggle and writhe in my lap.

That 'ear' thing? Turnabout is fair play, you know, and while my own breathing was ragged, she whispered, "We really need to work on our quickie techniques. Call the pizza place and then meet me in bed."

I suppose that she called Jen while I called the pizza order in, but when I get to the bedroom she was pantsless, kneeling, looking back at me over her shoulder. Grinning.

Oh, yeah ... I guess this is the part of 'he's marrying a sixteen year old' that gets to people, but I never pushed Kim, not from the very first. She sets the limits. The closest I have ever come to 'pushing' her was the occasional session that started after I kissed the back of her neck in the early morning, and that was only because I THINK she's asleep. Any other time? A kiss. A twinkle in her eyes. She takes my hand, and it's off to the races.

Today? Quickie? Oh, yeah ... My brain is deprived of blood. That's okay. I need so few neurons for this.

It's over fast and she's lying on top of me smiling. "Good?"

"Oh, God ... I'm sure that when the warp drive is invented it'll have something to do with what I just experienced. I definitely swapped dimensions."

Giggle. "Me too. You going gets ME going."

"I ... it happens so fast..."

"Sir, you're obviously mistaken that I spend all day doing equations in my head ... Nope. Timmy's there." Grin. "And you KNOW what Timmy does for me. And then sitting in your lap. I was primed."

"Since you and I started, I'm always primed," I said.

"Yeah ... somebody said old guys can't keep up," she giggled. "Quick shower. The pizza's gonna get here."

We were out of the shower before the pizza arrived simultaneously with Jen and Laci. We put on our civilized veneer for the meal, right up until Laci started in on Kim.

"Our Timmy looks kind of pale, Kim. What are you doing to him?"

Kim doesn't miss a beat. "I'm working with him on a regimen of contact aerobics, Aunt Laci!" she popped with a smirk. Giggle. "Lots of contact!"

I could feel the heat as my face changed colors.

"Oh, look, Laci. You two have embarrassed poor Timmy," Jen said. "See, Tim? I'm taking up for you. Don't want you running off, you know."

Kim giggled. "Yeah. I need to get him a collar and a leash." And she winked at me. I guess that'll happen.

Laci didn't let up. "If you train 'im right, you won't need the leash in public."

Laci and Jen and Kim played the 'Kim's pet' angle on me all the time. Truth is, I love being her pet. I guess that's my concession to the age difference: I feel like I belong to her, like some fortunate stray mutt.

"Well, Tim's owner," Jen said, "Have you thought any more about this upcoming wedding?"