Chapter 4

"Help me into the wheelchair, babe. I need to go to the bathroom. That coffee."

Ronni stood and helped me up, an act that still brought pains. I sat rather heavily in the wheelchair and she rolled me to the bathroom. With help I stood and started to use my right arm to attend to my needs.

"Nuh-uh, babe," she said. "let me..."

I kept my good right arm around her shoulder. She supported me with her left, and with her right hand she unsnapped those accursed pajamas. When the last snap parted she looked at me. "Uh, purely clinical, okay?" And she reached her fingers inside and caught my dick. "I've never done this before, Dave," she said. "I just watched you."

Now, if you've ever tried to pee with a sweet girl holding your dick for the first time, then you might understand my problem. I wanted to go. I needed to go. But I couldn't go. I explained the problem to her and she started giggling.

"I'm sorry," she said in between chuckles. "I was really trying to help."

"Let me take a few deep breaths," I countered. I breathed. Tried not to look into her eyes as she waited patiently. After a few moments I said, "Okay. It's getting ready to. Just don't let me pee on the floor."

Giggling, she played the stream around the toilet.

"Drawing designs in the bubbles is NOT clinical, little girl child," I said. "Now shake it."

She didn't shake it. She tore off some toilet paper and dabbed it dry. "There," she announced, then tried putting it back in my pajamas. She was successful, but couldn't refasten the snaps with only one hand.

"Is it too early for us to get you in bed?" she asked.

"No, it's not. Let's go." I said. We hobbled back into the bedroom and she helped me lie down.

"Do you want a pain pill now, babe?" she asked.

"Not yet. Let's lay here and watch TV for a while."

"Okay," she said. "I'm gonna get my shower. Here's the remote." She put the control in my right hand and then left, stopping to kiss me gently.

I heard the shower run, then stop, then the hair dryer. And then she bounced back into the bedroom wearing that darned nightshirt. "Put your arm out, babe," she said.

I stuck my right arm out and she cuddled into it. Very pleasant feelings came over me. My nostrils flared as I turned my head to nuzzle her. "Mmmmm, you smell good, angel," I said.

"I'm trying to be careful, babe," she said, turning to face me. "I've wanted to do this for so long, and now you're fragile." Her face met mine, lips first. The kiss was ... hot.

"Where'd you learn to kiss, baby?" I asked.

"I dunno," she said. "I haven't kissed a boy since I was ten."

"Then you were made for me to kiss, angel."

She smiled and kissed me again. I did the best I could to hug her with one arm. Her night-shirt-clad body was pressing against my side.

She giggled. "Babe, it's a good thing you're crippled. If you weren't..."

"If I wasn't? What?"

"Hush," she said, silencing me with kisses.

I accepted her kisses and answered with my own. I wrapped her with my good arm, fitting my hand on her waist, feeling her feminine firmness beneath my hand. The thought crossed my mind that this was the first time I'd touched Ronni except for the occasional "Help me climb up THERE" sort of events in a young person's life. And now she was no longer a generic "young person", she was a soft feminine form dressed in panties and night shirt, she was in MY bed, and she said she loved ME. My life was changing.

So was hers. She giggled. "I like you holding me, baby."

"I wish I had two good arms, sweetness," I said. Well, I sort of had an arm and a half. I could swing my left arm up and over her, but with the soreness and the tugging of the healing rift, the arm was useless for hugging.

She had two hands, though, and she caressed my face as she kissed me and never in my life had I felt as loved as seeing those brown eyes sparkling in front of me as our lips parted. I felt her body shift. "Tell me if I start hurting you, babe. I've never snuggled with a guy before. And I don't want to hurt you." She eased her right leg over me, insinuating her body snugly against mine.

"That doesn't hurt a bit. Matter of fact, that's the finest feeling I've had in ten years." It was. I didn't realize how much I missed a hug that went past the one you gave your kids or your sister or a happy co-worker. Ronni's leg over me, her smiling face, and all desires I ever had of being possessed by a loving partner came tumbling out of dark recesses of my memory, and compared with the sweet, soft innocence of Ronni, those memories faded. This was better.

It got better than that. Ronni's hand slid in between the snaps of those accursed convalescent pajamas and gingerly, tentatively caressed my chest, at least the undamaged right side. I was overwhelmed and one particular part of me was more overwhelmed than the rest. And it was pressing against the inside of Ronni's thigh.

She slowly moved her thigh. And giggled. "I feel that, Dave," she said. "I'll stop..." She kissed me. "This is all new to me ... I mean, I listen to the girl talk an' stuff. But it feels so good to be so close to you, babe. I don't mean to tease you, though..."

"This is the best I've felt in years," I repeated. I kissed her as my right hand touched her chastely.

"It's the best I've felt, EVER!" she purred. "I knew that if you and I could hold each other, it would be like magic." Her smile, coupled with happy eyes ... that was magic. Her leg moved again, rubbing.

Her eyes connected with mine. "I've touched that before, Dave."

"Yeah, babe, but that was different." I sighed. "Baby, we just found out we loved each other."

"Mmmm, Dave," she countered, "I've known I loved you for years, you know..."

"And I've loved you for years too, Ronni. But..." My protests disappeared as slender fingers traced their way down from my chest. When her fingers slid under my waistband, I caught my breath. "I should stop you, Ronni."

"Why would you, Dave? Don't you think I'm old enough to know what I'm doing?"

"Are you? Ronni ... I love you. But I don't want to take advantage of you."

"Too late, Dave. You've been taking advantage of me for ten years, being nice and decent and caring. Now it's too late. I'm in love with you. And ... you said you love me too, Dave."

"I do, Ronni," I said.

"D'ya mean it?" Her face was mere inches from mine, her brown eyes soft, that slightly crooked nose, those wet lips.

"Yes, I mean it, Ronni."

"Ya know, Dave, I go to school and I know a lot about kids my age. I don't think I'm like that."

"I don't think you're like that, babe," I admitted.

"Darned straight, Dave. For one thing, I'm still a virgin. Another thing. I haven't thought I've been in love sixteen times like most girls my age. And I've got BOTH my original parents still married to each other and I think they're great and they love each other. And that's how I want to be. US to be"

"Ooooo-kayyyy..." I answered.

Ronni was on a roll. "D'ya think that ... Wait! D'ya know how old Mom is?"

I knew this. I'd been at Rena's last birthday party. She was thirty-six. "Yes, Ron," I said. What's that got to do with this?"

"They were married TWO YEARS when I was born. Mom was NINETEEN when I was born. She got MARRIED when she was my age. She met Dad because he used to come in where she worked after school. And Dad's older..."

I interrupted. "Ronni, I know. Your dad's ten years older than your mom. I know all that. I know your parents. So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that it is just possible that a seventeen year old girl just MIGHT be mature enough to decide ... Uh, David Johnson, REAL love is forever..."

"I know, Ronni," I answered. "that's the scary part..."

She'd pulled her hand out of my waistband. It was on my chest and she was resting her chin on it, gazing into my eyes. "Why's it scary, babe?"

"Dear little one," I said, "It's scary because I put my heart into this and I think it's forever ... and I can tell you how it hurts when the other person decides that it's not."

"You're talking about when Mizz Lisa left, aren't you?"

"Yes, baby."

"I'm not her, Dave. I know what forever is..."

"So what you're saying, Ronni, is that you love me forever..."

"Like in Mom and Dad "forever", Dave."

"There's another thing, Ron," I said. "It's a big thing."

"What?" she looked worried.

"Uh, baby ... that's it: babies. I can't make any. When Brittney as born, there was something wrong with Lisa and it would have been dangerous for her to get pregnant again. So I got fixed. I can't make babies."

"So what? Do YOU need a baby from ME to show that we love each other? Does a baby seal the deal?"

"It didn't with Lisa," I admitted.

"We'll borrow some. The countryside's crawlin' with 'em," she giggled at her own joke. "I love YOU!"

And inside my head thoughts were running a mile a minute. I know that the normal thing was to meet somebody, spend weeks and months dating and getting to know them, their habits, likes, dislikes and then, after careful thought, the subject of marriage could be sensibly considered. And I thought about me and Ronni. I knew Ronni. Possibly the only person on the planet that I knew more about than Ronni was me, and sometimes I wondered about me.

I thought about times I was driving Ronni across the state, two or three hours in a car together, laughing, talking, on the way to or from a sports tournament and I knew Ronni's taste in music and movies and TV. I'd tutored her for years in academics, and I knew what she was like when she was frustrated and disappointed and aggravated. I'd seen her win and I'd seen her lose and I'd watched her interact with her team-mates, and I knew that those eyes six inches from mine were the property of a quite decent person. Young, maybe, but level-headed. And smart. Not 4.0, but almost.

And as the program ran in my head, I could see the register filling up on the "don't be a dumb-ass. She's the ONE" branch of the program.

I sighed. "Ronni, I love you. Like in "forever". I think you and I..."

Her eyes brightened. "Belong together. Like Mom and Dad."

"Yes. Does that scare you?" I asked.

"No, Dave. It makes me feel happy. And cared for. And secure." She smiled. "I know you, Dave. You're my best friend, but you know that we've been around each other for ten years."

It sounded like she was mirroring my own thoughts.

She continued. "I used to lay awake at night and go through the list of things that I liked about you and that I didn't like. That last list is short. And silly. And when I thought about it, and I thought that I loved you, I used to think what it would be like if we were married. Like, would I change, or would you change. Do you think you'd change?"

"No. Are you saying..."

"That I thought about marrying you? Yes." She smiled.

Oh, well. Dive off the cliff, Dave. "Veronica Jameson, will you marry me?"

Squeal. "Yes, David Johnson, I will marry you." And she kissed me. "Now what?" and a little giggle. "I've never been engaged before."

"I need to give you an engagement ring. And we need to set a date. And you tell all your friends and they get all squealy and stuff, and they plan your wedding and you have a wedding shower and..."

"God, no, Dave. That's not how we'll do it, if you don't mind, babe."

I grinned at her. "Goodness, Ronni! You've given this a lot of thought."

"I have, Dave." She had that wrinkle over her nose that was her "I'm determined" look.

"Then how do YOU want to do this?" I asked.

"We tell Mom and Dad. Because they have to sign for me to get married since I'm only seventeen. And we have a simple wedding. If you want your brother and sister, and of course Mom and Dad, and then we can go off for a little honeymoon somewhere."

"Your dad will be relieved to hear that. What about your mom?"

"Mom and Dad got married in the pastor's office of Grandma's church. She thinks those big weddings are a waste of money. But they'd try. But why would we want to do all that? You and I and our families are what's important, right?"

"You're a wise young lady, babe."

"And I want a wedding band. No diamond. Just a band."

"Babe, I'd buy you a diamond the size of a doorknob..."

"And then I'd have what? A piece of carbon on my finger? Nope. A gold band."

"Okay. As soon as I can get out of the house, babe."

She smiled. "Would it be too soon to tell Mom?"

"I don't think your mom's gonna be surprised, sweetie."

"I don't think so either," she smiled. "But I'm about to burst ... I gotta tell SOMEBODY!"

"Call her, then. After you kiss me one more time. That way, when she comes over here with a butcher knife and stabs me fifteen times for molesting her daughter, I'll die with your kiss on my lips."

"Daaaave," she giggled, picking up my cellphone. She punched the button to dial her house. "Hi, mom," she said. "No, nothing's wrong. Everything is VERY right." She paused. "Mom, Dave just asked me to marry him."