Full Circle

Sarah didn't know what woke her up. She didn't know if it was the bright flash or the sound of the sky tearing. For a brief moment, she saw the time on her clock, midnight, and then the red digits went blank.

Her heart pounded as she listened to the sound of the tree branches slamming against the side of the house. Storms terrified her; they always had. Even as a teenager, she would run for her parents' bed at the first sound of thunder, or the first flash of lightning.

Sarah slowly crept out of her bed, clutching the blanket to her chest. All of the lights in the neighborhood were out. It was completely pitch black out. She let out a scream when the skies lit up with a white hot flash. The loud explosion of thunder immediately followed. It shook the house, and rattled the windows.

The sound of breaking glass from downstairs caused Sarah to jump. She peered out the window and whispered, "Please, Pete, be up."

A yellowish glow showed from one of his downstairs windows. Her heart leapt.

Blindly, she found her way back to her bed. A few seconds groping found what she was looking for, the flashlight on the nightstand. She breathed a sigh of relief as the white beam of light shot from its end.

Down the stairs she ran, out the door and across the grass towards Pete's house. She didn't feel the driving rain soaking her. She pounded on his door.

The door swung open and Peter looked surprised to see Sarah shivering on his front steps.

"Sarah, what's the matter?" His voice was laced with concern. "Are you still afraid of storms?"

"Yes." Sarah nodded.

Pete opened the door wider and stepped back. "You'd better get in here."

Sarah's thin nightgown was drenched and did very little to hide her breasts. Pete blushed as he stared at them for a moment. Her dark pink nipples jutted stiffly from behind the wet cloth. He turned and pointed to the hallway. "Go into the bathroom and take your wet things off. There are a couple of bathrobes hanging on the back of the door, help yourself to one."

"Thanks, Pete." Sarah suddenly realized she was soaked and began to shiver.

He lit a candle and handed to her. "This might help."

After closing the bathroom door, Sarah blushed as she caught her reflection from the mirror. Not only did her hair make her look like a wet cat, but also her saturated nightgown left little to the imagination.

A crack of thunder made her forget her embarrassment. She pulled off her dripping gown and hung it over the shower rod. The bathrobe she put on was too big for her, but it felt good.

"I'm sorry to be such a bother," she said after leaving the bathroom.

He waved her off and laughed. "It's no problem. I had almost forgotten you didn't like storms."

Sarah shook her head. "Yeah, here I am, thirty-two and still afraid of thunder."

"Would you like something?" Pete asked. "With the power off about all I can offer is a glass of wine."

"I'd like that." Sarah began to calm down. Her heart had finally stopped racing.

Sarah sat down on the small loveseat in the living room. The house was as she remembered it, neat as a pin.

As Pete returned from the kitchen carrying two glasses of wine, the lights flickered for a moment and then burst into life.

Pete laughed and handed Sarah a glass. "Well, dang it. I thought the atmosphere with just the candles was perfect."

She didn't realize how much she had missed Pete over the years. He had been her best friend growing up. More than a friend, they had been like brother and sister at times. He had always teased her in a good-natured way.

"Turn the lights out and leave the candles lit." Sarah took a sip of the wine.

"Are you sure?" Pete asked.

"Yes, it's not the dark that scares me. It's the lightning and thunder mainly."

Turning off the lights, Pete sat down beside Sarah. "Wanna watch a movie?"

Sarah smiled. "I'd love to."

The wine made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. She leaned against Pete and whispered, "Kind of makes me feel like we're kids again."

Pete nodded and put his arm around her shoulder. "Yeah, we spent a lot of nights like this, watching TV with mom."

---

The sun shone brightly in through the bedroom window. Sarah opened her eyes. It took her a moment to realize where she was. Pete must have carried her upstairs and put her in his mother's room.

She was still wearing the bathrobe he had lent her. As she sat up, she noticed a note on the small table by the bed. It was Pete's scrawling handwriting; she smiled as she read it.

Sarah, the tree in your back yard broke your bathroom window. I've run down to the hardware store to pick up some stuff to fix it. The coffee is ready downstairs, help yourself. I shouldn't be gone very long. Pete.

The coffee tasted great. Sarah went out the back door and sat on the deck. Broken branches littered both back yards. Remnants from the storm. Sarah shivered for a moment as she remembered the force of the storm.

The sound of Pete's truck pulling up interrupted her thoughts. He stepped out of the truck and waved. She thought he needed a haircut; his tousled brown hair seemed to go in every direction.

"Good morning!" He smiled cheerily.

Sarah blushed. "Sorry for falling asleep."

"That's okay." His face lit up as he laughed. "Reminded me of when we were kids. And to be honest with you, I don't know who fell asleep first. I woke up, and carried you up to mom's room."

"I miss your mom." Sarah instantly wished she hadn't said it.

Pete's face changed. A sad look washed over it. "I miss her, too. First your parents, and then just over a month later, mom."

Sarah's parents had been killed on their way home from church just after New Year's. They had hit some black ice and skidded into the path of an oncoming truck. There was nothing the truck driver could have done; there had been no time for him to react. Her father had been killed instantly. Her mom had died several hours later in the hospital.

Pete's mother had succumbed to cancer almost five weeks later.

Sarah's voice was soft. "When I was growing up, there were times I wished your mom was my mom. I loved my mother, but she seemed so distant most of the time."

"Yeah, and I wished your father was mine. Well, he was my father growing up. I miss seeing him. Talking to him." Pete's eyes got a little misty. "He did so much with me, taught me how to play baseball, how to fish. All the little things dads teach their sons."

The war in Vietnam had claimed Pete's father. His parents had only been married for a few weeks before shipping out. Pete's father had never knew his bride was pregnant.

"I always wondered why your mother never remarried." Sarah looked at Pete. "She was so pretty and so young."

"I asked her a couple of times after coming home from the army," Pete recalled. "She always did the same thing, smile, and say there had never been time at first, and then when there was time, she was too set in her ways."

Pete eyed the mess in the back yard. "I suppose I should get at it. I'll fix your window first, and then I'll clear the mess the storm left."

"I should get home. I need to really start going through mom's and dad's stuff and decide what to do with it."

"Have you decided what you are going to do with the house?" Pete asked.

"I don't know. More and more I keep thinking about keeping the house and applying for a position here." Sarah gave Pete a small smile. "I like it here."

---

Thirty some years' worth of stuff. Her parents had lived in this house since before she was born. Start at the top and work her way down. That's what she decided to do.

Sarah was an only child. There had been another child, a boy. Allan. He hadn't made it through his first day. He had died in the hospital about twelve hours after being born. Tears formed in Sarah's eyes when she opened a small box containing the blank birth announcements.

Sarah's mother had changed drastically after Allan's death. Pete's mom had told her stories. On rare occasions, her father would talk about it. Gone was the free spirited woman who had given birth to her.

Sarah's mother had withdrawn and become a shadow of the woman her father married. Her church was all that mattered — a fundamentalist Christian church that only preached doom and gloom.

She removed one of the birth announcements and set it aside. The rest, she tossed into a garbage bag. At the back of the closet, she found a box of photo albums she had never seen. It was full of unknown faces and places. Little notes at the bottom of each picture did little to explain who the people were.

One of the albums made her smile. It was her mother and father just after they were married. She recognized her father, but her mother looked so different. There was happiness in her face, a joy Sarah had never known.

---

Sarah turned the faucets. She loved this tub. It was very old, and stood on clawed feet. Foamy suds began forming from the generous amount of aromatic bubble bath she poured into the water.

It had been a busy day. It had taken most of the afternoon, but she had finished clearing out the spare room. Bags filled with things to give away to charity sat in the front hall and other bags full of trash were by the trashcans outside.

Pete spent the morning and part of the afternoon replacing the broken glass in the bathroom window. His workmanship impressed Sarah. It was nearly impossible to tell the glass had been smashed and muntin bars broken. He had gathered up and disposed of all of the debris from the storm.

Sarah pulled the comb from her shoulder length hair and shook it free. She smiled back at the reflection in the mirror. In keeping with her nightly routine, she thoroughly scrubbed her face before climbing into the tub.

Pete was ready for a shower. He felt pleased with all he had accomplished. Tomorrow was Sunday, the day he usually relaxed. He looked towards Sarah's house and wondered if she would be up for an afternoon barbeque tomorrow.

The breeze that was blowing in felt good. Sarah decided against closing the window and pulling the blinds down. A row of tall hedges protected the window from view of neighbors.

"Yeah," Pete said to himself as he closed the door on his tool shed. "A barbeque sounds good." He cut through his back yard and headed toward Sarah's back door.

Sarah lit the candles in the bathroom. She loved candles. One could never have too many. She turned the light off. The warm, soft glow from the flickering flames bathed the room. She whispered to herself as she removed her robe, "Perfect."

Pete froze in his tracks as he glanced at the bathroom window he had repaired. A large tree stood between him and the window. His hand rested against what was left of the tree branch, keeping him steady. He held his breath. Pete knew the right thing to do would be to just turn around and go home, but his feet wouldn't move. He could feel his heart pound as he watched her slip off her robe.

He felt his erection growing as he stared at her nudity. Sarah had always been Sarah, the girl he had grown up with, his resolute friend throughout childhood. The swelling in his jeans embarrassed him. He shouldn't be having feelings like this about her. His eyes drank in her slender body. All of a sudden, he longed to reach out and touch her naked breasts.

Sarah slid into the tub. "That feels so good."

The warm water enveloped her body. All of the anxieties of the day melted away. Sarah smiled as she dangled her foot over the edge of the tub. It held special memories. This was where she had learned how to masturbate. It was the one room in the house where she had complete privacy as she grew up. She closed her eyes as her hand slid down in the water between her legs. Her other hand reached for her breast.

Pete couldn't remember the last time he blinked. The swelling in his jeans continued to the point where he felt uncomfortable. The urge to pull his zipper down and remove his erection was becoming overwhelming. His hand trembled as he watched her fondling her breast.

Technically Sarah was a virgin. She hadn't engaged in intercourse with a man. The thin membrane, which normally signaled a female, was pure and untouched was long gone. It had been lost to a vibrator in her sophomore year in college.

Her fingers teased her swollen clit. It had been too many days since she had touched herself like this. She still felt a bit guilty about masturbating in her room. She felt her mother would burst through the door and catch her.

The night air felt cool on his erection. His hand grasped his swollen shaft and began to stroke it slowly. Pete watched as Sarah continued fondling her breasts. Occasionally he would catch a glimpse of an erect nipple through the suds. He had never seen Sarah like this. He would have never imagined this side of her existed.

With closed eyes, she let her fingers carry her away. Waves of pleasure flowed through her body. Her fingers rubbed her swollen clit in tight circles. Faster and faster they circled, her hips moving to her fingers. Both of her feet were propped against the end of the tub.

"Oh, yes," she moaned softly as her body reacted to her fingers.

Pete worked his lust-swollen shaft. His eyes were transfixed on Sarah and on what she was doing. Gone were the feelings of guilt. All he felt now was an incredible lust for the girl in the tub. He had never seen a girl masturbate. Occasionally he had seen things in the videos he rented, but that was different.

Sarah was lost in her lust. She pushed her breast up, and leaned her head as far forward as it would go. Her tongue flicked out at her taut nipple, and then her lips began to suck on it. Faster and faster, her fingers rubbed her clit. She was getting close. As her teeth bit down lightly on the rubbery nipple, her climax began.

Pete's cock erupted as he watched Sarah sucking her own nipples. Long streams of white cum shot out into the darkness. His knees felt weak as his hand stroked his pulsing cock. His heart pounded and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. The sounds of Sarah's moans carried out of the window.

A warm rush took over her body, like a narcotic high. Her whole body shook as she moaned in pleasure.

Pete slipped his deflating and wet cock into his jeans and he turned and headed for his house. Now that his lust had dissipated, what remained was a bit of guilt at what he had done. He felt he had invaded her privacy.

Sarah thought she heard something. Her eyes snapped open and for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw a flash of blue. Had someone been watching her? She slipped deep into the tub. Blue. Pete had been wearing a blue t-shirt. Had Pete been watching her?

She remembered the flash of hunger in his eyes when he had looked at her breasts in her wet nightgown. Had Pete seen her masturbating? Her fingers began to work her clit furiously again as she thought of Pete watching her. Had he masturbated while watching her? She wanted to cum again. The wave of lust which overtook her, was completely unexpected. The resulting orgasm was one of the most intense she had ever experienced.

Pete stripped out of his jeans and underwear. His cock was still wet with his cum as he got into the shower. He had never felt this way about Sarah before. He had never seen her as an object of sexual attraction. As the warm water from the shower hit his body, his cock began to grow.

His mind wandered back to the morning his mother had walked into his room and caught him masturbating. It had taken him a couple of hours to work up the nerve to leave his room and face his mother.

She had worn a serene expression when he walked into the kitchen. "Sit down, Peter. We need to have a talk."

His face had burned with embarrassment as he sat down at the table.

"There's nothing wrong with what you were doing. It's perfectly natural. Most people will deny they masturbate, but almost everyone does. That includes me." Her voice was full of caring. "The only thing I ask is you lock your door."

Shortly after their talk, issues of Playboy began to arrive in the mail in his name.

Everyone does. The words echoed through his head. His hand stroked his soapy cock to another orgasm.

---

Pete had knocked at her door. Sarah was grateful for the break. She had started clearing her mother's closet out. He had suggested they barbeque later in the afternoon, an idea she found appealing.

Something had changed. Both Pete and Sarah could feel it. There was a tension between them. It wasn't an uncomfortable tension. It was more like a feeling of excitement.

Sarah filled bags and bags with religious tracts her mother had saved for over twenty years. Her mother had been flooded with guilt over the death of the baby. "It's God's punishment for my wicked ways." Her mother's voice sounded in her mind.

School had helped Sarah understand her mother. The courses in psychology had explained a lot, and talking with her professors had helped her understand.

"Dad, she's depressed. Why don't you try to get her help?" She remembered saying that to her father.

His face held a sadness she had never witnessed before. "I know she's depressed, and I know there is help out there for her. Lord knows how many times I have tried to get her help. She believes God is punishing her and won't even go see or talk to her doctor about it. I've even talked to the preacher. His answer is that God will cure her when He is ready."

She had never liked Preacher Simmons. The way he had looked at her after she had gone through puberty had always made her feel nervous. It was a leering look, as if he was trying to see beneath her clothing. She shivered for a moment as she banished him from her mind.

---

"Come in," Pete responded to the rapping on his back door.

Sarah walked into the kitchen and sat down on a chair. "Anything I can do to help?"

Pete shook his head. "Nope, I just put the chicken on the rotisserie and the baked potatoes are ready to go."

He washed his hands in the sink. "Do you want to go sit outside? Oh, and I made a pitcher of margaritas, if you would like one."

"I would love one. I could use one after going through mom's closet."

The afternoon was warm and the trees swayed lazily in the breeze.

Sarah laughed when she looked at the lawn chairs Pete had set out. "I had no idea these were still around."

Pete smiled proudly. "Yup, your dad gave them to me last year. I just scraped the twenty years of paint off and refinished them."

Sarah sat in the chair and took a sip of her margarita. "How many times did we do this when we were kids?"

"I think every Sunday that it wasn't raining or too cold." Pete smiled warmly. "We still did it occasionally after I came back from the army."

"I wish I would have come home more often." Sarah looked towards her house. "It was just hard to see mom..." Her voice trailed off. "I don't know if she was getting worse, or if I just wasn't used to it like I was growing up."

"I think it was a little of both. I know your dad was worried about her a lot. There were days where she just wouldn't get out of bed."

Sarah remembered the day of the funeral. A lot of it was a fog, but the one thing that was crystal clear in her mind was how calm and serene her mother looked. Tears began to form in her eyes.

Pete could sense how Sarah felt. "Well, if we are to believe what they say in church, she's in a better place now."

Sarah reached over and put her hand on his. "Yes, that's what I keep telling myself."

Pete got up to check the chicken. He brushed some marinade on as the chicken slowly rotated over the grill.

"Can I ask you a question, Pete? A personal question."

He turned and shrugged his shoulders. "Sure."

"Why aren't you married?"

"Well, I could ask you the same question."

"Fair enough," Sarah replied. "I'll tell you after you tell me."

Pete sat back down. "The honest answer is, I don't know. I was gone in the army for four years. I had a couple of girlfriends, nothing serious. I got moved around a lot, so there was no real chance of meeting anyone." He took a sip of his margarita and continued. "When I came back here, most everyone I knew had either gotten married or, like you, had moved away. Am I boring you yet?"

"No. Please keep going."

"I had a couple of girlfriends for a bit after getting back, but nothing ever came out of any of it. Then I started my own business about five years ago. There never seemed to be time for trying to date. Then mom got sick about a year ago. It's like looking back and wondering where all the time went."

"I can understand that," Sarah answered. "So it was never that you didn't want to get married."

"No, not at all." Pete sipped his margarita. "Okay, your turn."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Well, I got closer than you did. I almost got married. I got engaged to a guy in my senior year, we were supposed to get married after I graduated."

"I remember mom saying something about you getting engaged."

"Well, it didn't last. I showed up at his apartment one day after class, unannounced. I caught him having sex with another girl on his sofa."

"Holy crap!" Pete exclaimed.

"Yeah, and after all his talk about remaining pure for each other. That devastated me. I broke up with him. I was so hurt. I felt so betrayed. I didn't go out with another guy for well over a year after that. And I guess like you, I got busy with my career."

Pete raised his glass. "Here's to us. What's that line in that Pink Floyd song? We're like two fish, swimming in a fish bowl, year after year."

Sarah laughed. "You know, that sounds appropriate."

The supper was a success. The chicken was delicious. Pete and Sarah sat in the back yard well after dark talking and laughing. Sarah couldn't remember feeling so happy in a long time.

"Do you want some help cleaning up?" Sarah offered.

"No, there's not much to do." Pete shook his head.

"I know you need to be up early in the morning, and I need to get to bed. Another busy day ahead of me." Sarah sighed as she looked at the house.

"If you need any help, just call me." Pete offered.

Sarah looked at Pete and then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Thanks Pete."

She turned, and began walking across the grass leaving Pete standing there in astonishment. She turned her head and called back to Pete, "Phone me when you get home."

Later in bed, Sarah wondered what it would be like to be held by Pete, the way lovers held each other.

Her hand slipped between her legs, and she began to touch herself. There was no guilt on this night.

---

Sarah set her coffee cup in the sink. She wasn't looking forward to cleaning out her father's closet. So much of what was in there was personal. She knew there would be a fortune hidden in his closet. Not a fortune of money or valuables, but a currency measured in memories.

It was harder to pack his clothes into bags for Goodwill. Everything seemed to hold a memory. She sat on the floor and held one of his old sweaters close to her face. The aroma of his aftershave still lingered on them.

She laughed, tears rolling down her face, when she found his two suits. The grey was his Sunday suit, and the dark blue was his 'good' suit. In his words, the 'good' suit was for weddings, funerals and other solemn events.

His life was in this closet, that's what he used to tell her. He had built shelves in the back. Neatly stacked boxes lined the shelves. The first box made her smile. It was full of all of the cards she had made when she was in elementary school. She sat and looked at each one, trying to remember what she felt when she had made them.

One card looked odd — it didn't look like her work at all. She opened it up, and smiled. It was from Pete to her father. Her heart almost broke when she turned the little note over.

Uncle Frank,

I don't got a dad to give this card to. I would like to give it to you.

Peter Radcliffe

As she looked through the cards, she found several others from Pete to her father. Sarah set the box aside.

Many of the boxes held bank statements, tax returns and other legal looking documents. Those would have to be gone through carefully.

Some of the boxes were stuffed with miscellaneous items. She had no idea what these things were and wondered if Pete could use any of it.

Finally, all that remained was the green steel box at the back of the closet. She remembered seeing it as a child, but had no memory of seeing what was inside. The latch was locked, but the key was in the lock.

The box was nearly empty. Only a few folded letters lay in the bottom. She reached in, pulled out a letter, and began to read.

Dear Frank,

I got the note you left. Please don't be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing happened that I didn't want to happen. I wanted you to make love to me, Frank. I needed to feel like a woman again.

Debbie

Sarah's jaw dropped. With a shaking hand, she selected another of the letters.

Dearest Frank,

I love you too. I just want you to know that I never expect anything from you, except what you are willing to give. I know you love Ellen, and I do as well. I would never do anything to hurt her or Sarah.

I can never thank you enough for the time you spend with Peter. He looks up to you, and you are the father figure in his life. I can't think of a better man for him to look up to.

Love,

Debbie.

The other letters were similar in tone and content.

Sarah didn't know what to think. Her emotions were confused. She couldn't believe her father had been Pete's mother's lover for all of those years. She felt hurt, and betrayed by her father. Questions ran through her head, questions with no answers.

---

Pete was surprised to see Sarah sitting on his front steps when he pulled into his driveway. He parked his truck, picked his thermos and cooler off the seat, and walked around the house. His smile vanished when he saw the tear streaks on Sarah's face.

"What's wrong, Sarah?"

She looked up at Pete with a sad expression and handed him the bundle of letters.

Pete felt his heart sink as soon as he read the first letter. "Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry." He was overwhelmed by the urge to hold her in his arms and make her hurt go away. "Come inside, Sarah, and I'll tell you everything I know."

Sarah stood up and followed Pete into the house. He walked into the kitchen and put his thermos and cooler on the counter. She sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. "I don't understand, how could he─ they have done that."

Pete let out a long sigh as he rested his arms on the table. He looked at Sarah, wishing there were something he could do or say to take the hurt away.

"Mom didn't say much about the how, or why it began, and I didn't ask." Pete looked up at the ceiling, searching to find the right words.

"You knew?" Sarah couldn't believe her ears.

Pete nodded. "Two days before she passed away, that's when she told me. She made me swear not to say a word to you."

"How long did it go on for?"

"I don't know for sure. From when we were young right up to the end I guess, over twenty-five years."

"It goes against everything he taught me. How he could have treated my mother like that?" Tears began pouring from her eyes.

"He loved your mother. I know that. He told me that many times."

"Well, he had a funny way of showing it." Sarah wiped her tears. "I don't know if I want to keep that damned house now. It's a house full of lies and deceit."

Pete felt helpless. "I wish I could say something that would change it all around."

Sarah felt her anger burst. "You could have done something, anything! Surely you must have known my father was coming over here to..." Sarah stopped herself when she saw the hurt in Pete's eyes.

"No, I never knew or even suspected anything." He stood up from the table. "Wait here, I have something for you."

He returned with a letter in his hand. "This is for you. Mom gave it to me and said to only let you have it if you found out. I have no idea what is in there, I've never read it."

The envelope felt thick in her hand. The only word written on the white envelope was her name.

Suddenly, Sarah felt ashamed of her outburst at Pete. She mumbled a goodbye, walked out of his house, and returned to her own. She laid the envelope on the kitchen table and stared at it. Did she want to read words from the woman who her father had cheated with?

Sarah tried to sustain her anger at her father and Pete's mother. She feared that by reading the words, she might feel sympathetic towards them. Sarah suspected Pete felt that way. What was Pete? He was a man, and what was a man? A walking penis. That's all men thought about, their penises.

---

The morning sun streamed through her bedroom window. Sarah lay there, staring at the ceiling. She hadn't slept well, her night filled with fitful dreams of her father and mother.

Even the shower did nothing to improve her mood. She had planned to clean out the rest of her parents' bedroom. She took one look at the room, walked downstairs, and started the coffee pot. Her funk was still with her. For a moment, she wished her father were alive just so she could scream and yell at him.

The letter still sat on the table where she had left it. The urge to burn it without reading it had come to mind the previous evening. Nevertheless, she hadn't read it, and it still sat there, unopened and unread.

What excuse could she possibly give? What would her rationale be? Sarah stared at the letter. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her, so she picked up the letter and tore it open. It was dated the day after her parents' funeral.

Dear Sarah,

If you are reading this letter, then you already know about your father and me. I am dying, and do not have much time left. Even Peter has no idea how serious it is.

I wanted so much to talk to you after the funeral. There was so much more that I wanted to say. I wanted to tell you what a wonderful man your father was, and how I wished things had been different for your mother.

Please don't be angry with Frank, hate me if you wish, but not your father.

I'm not sure where to begin.

When you and Peter were very young, your father would come over and help me work on the house. Your mother had gone downhill so fast. She shut him, and everyone else, out of her life and he was confused. We would often talk for hours. He loved your mother very deeply and didn't understand what had happened to her.

I was going to school, and working at the time. No boy at that time was interested in a young woman with a baby. Used goods. And there was never any time. If I wasn't at school, then I was working.

I had been married a total of seventeen days when my husband was sent off to Vietnam. He was killed in his second week of duty, before I even knew I was pregnant. A few months later, I realized I was pregnant. I was alone, and with a child on the way. Your parents were my support, as my family had pretty much disowned me for getting married without their blessing.

I'm not going to go into the details of our relationship, for I feel I would be betraying him. It started by accident, in a moment when we were both weakened by the stress of our lives.

After the baby died, your mother refused to have any sort of physical relationship with your father, yet he stood by her. He never gave up on her.

Our relationship was never sordid, it was one of love. Each gave the other what was missing in their lives. It made us stronger. Your father saw Peter as the son he never had, and I saw you as the daughter I never had. We saw the five of us, your mother included, as one family.

We loved each other deeply, Sarah. Your father's love for your mother never diminished. Not once in over twenty-five years did either of us discuss him leaving your mother.

I miss him so much right now. I know he would have made my last days brighter. He does live in my heart.

I hope this letter helps. Please forgive us for our weaknesses. Most of all, if you are angry with your father, please forgive him.

Debbie.

PS. I will leave it up to you if you want to share the details of this letter with Peter.

Sarah set the letter on the table and stared out the window towards Pete's house. The letter wasn't what she expected. She had fully expected to be able to use its contents to fuel her anger. As she read the letter a second time, she felt her anger towards her father begin to wane.

Tears welled in her eyes. She hadn't been able to attend the funeral for Pete's mother. She hadn't been able to get the time off from her position at the school. Now, she regretted not coming even more. She wished she had been more forceful in her request for the time off.

Debbie had been much like a mother to her. She remembered how Debbie had enjoyed having long girl-to-girl talks with her. Sarah began to cry as she remembered sitting on Debbie's bed, trying different shades of nail polish and laughing. Then, just before going home having to take it all off, because her mother didn't approve of nail polish. She said it came from Satan.

The anger she felt towards her father vanished. A deep sadness overtook her. She tried to imagine what it must have been like for the two of them, sharing a love that couldn't be shared with anyone else.

Pete's driveway lay vacant well after dark. Sarah wanted to apologize to him. Her outburst at him embarrassed her now. She fell asleep before he got home, and by the time she woke up, his house was dark.

The next three days blurred together. She would get up in the morning and see his truck gone. She continued going through the house, deciding what to keep and what to give away. Each night his truck remained gone until after she had gone to bed.

---

Tap. Tap. Tap. Sarah's eyes opened. There it was again. Tap. Tap. It was coming from her window. She glanced at the clock and groaned. It read 6:04. Tap. Tap.

She opened the curtain and looked outside. Her heart leapt and a smile formed on her face. Sarah poked her head out the window and waved to Pete. "What on earth are you doing?"

Pete gave her a big grin. "I wanted to see if you wanted to go out for breakfast."

"Why didn't you just phone me?"

"This was a lot more fun. Like when we were kids."

"It's only six in the morning."

"We'll beat the rush and get a good seat."

Sarah found his mood infectious. "Okay, give me a few minutes to run a brush through my hair and throw something on."

"I'll be down here."

---

The café was busy with the morning breakfast crowd. Most of the patrons looked like they were involved in the construction trade. Some of the diners waved and greeted Pete by name.

Sarah didn't tell Pete, but she was relieved to find out his late nights and early mornings were because of a rush put on a job. The worry that he had found a woman had started to fester in her mind. She felt her face blush slightly when he told her about the job he had been doing.

After the waitress had taken their order, Pete looked at Sarah, "How is everything? I've been a bit worried about you. I wanted to come over and see you, but the job's had me going for about eighteen hours a day."

"Better. The letter helped. I still don't understand why, and probably never will. I'm not angry anymore. I don't condone what they did, but I can understand why it happened." Sarah shook her head in sadness.

"Your dad used to tell me, you can only do what you can do with the cards you're dealt. You can't make aces out of eights." Pete took a sip of his coffee. "It took me a long time to fully understand what he meant."

Sarah paused and thought for a moment. "What do you think he meant?"

"You take what life gives you and do the best you can with it." Pete looked directly at Sarah. "Life dealt him a bum hand. He lost a baby and a wife at the same time. He did the best he could with what he had." He paused for a moment and took a drink of coffee.

"Same with my mom, she lost a husband and was left alone with a baby. I can't say for sure because I don't know, but I think they supported each other."

Sarah thought about what Pete had just said. It struck a chord inside of her. For the first time, she thought she understood the reason why.

"Do you have to work today?" Sarah asked as Pete drove them home.

"Nope. I finished the job I was doing, and I don't need to start the next one until Monday."

"Any plans for the day?" Sarah asked. She was hoping the answer was no; she could use Pete's and his truck's help.

"Not really, the only thing I was planning on doing was washing my truck."

"My car could use it, too." Sarah replied.

"Was there something you had in mind?"

"I was hoping I could borrow you and your truck to haul some of the stuff down to the Goodwill."

"Sure, we can do that this morning, wash the car, and truck this afternoon." Pete suggested.

Sarah liked the idea of spending the day with Pete. She found herself attracted to him. She no longer saw him as the boy that lived next door.

---

Pete felt relieved Sarah was no longer angry over what had transpired between their parents. The thought of spending the day with Sarah appealed to him. Like her, he sensed a growing attraction between the two of them.

"That's the last of it. The rest is trash." Sarah was pleased with what the two of them had accomplished.

"Good!" Pete laughed and mimicked an aching back. "Between my mom and your parents, I don't think the three of them ever threw anything away."

"I know they didn't." Sarah agreed. "I think I found every piece of homework I ever brought home."

Pete looked at the back of his truck loaded down with bags full of clothes and other miscellaneous items. "I'll go drop this load off."

"I appreciate all of your help, Pete. I'll cook us supper tonight, okay?" She gave him a hopeful look.

"I'll hold you to that." Pete laughed as he got into his truck. He grinned at Sarah. "One thing a single guy never does is turn down a free meal." He paused for a moment. "Especially with a pretty girl."

Sarah felt her cheeks blush. As Pete backed out of the driveway, she yelled at him. "Flirt! Flattery will get you..." She felt her blush deepen and whispered. "...everywhere."

She watched his truck turn the corner before going back into the house. It felt like she had butterflies in her stomach as she walked into the house. She sat in the kitchen, trying to decide what Pete would enjoy.

Sarah looked in the freezer and smiled. "Perfect." She checked the pantry and the cabinets to make sure all of the necessary ingredients were on hand.

A rapping at her back door caused her to look up from her cookbook. She smiled as Pete poked his head in the door.

"Hey, pull your car over into my driveway and we'll wash both vehicles."

"Okay, I'll be right out." Sarah closed the cookbook and retrieved her keys from her purse.

Pete had a big bucket full of sudsy water ready, along with sponges and old towels. "We'll do your car first."

The dirt seemed to melt off her car as he sprayed it with hose. They attacked it with sponges, and then hosed the car off. The giggles and laughter began when they started flicking suds at each other.

It escalated when Pete sprayed Sarah with the hose. "It was an accident." His words said one thing, but the laughter in his eyes gave away his true intention.

"I'll get you." Sarah laughed as the soggy sponge she lobbed caught Pete on the side of the head.



"Oh, now that's low." Pete laughed as he went for the bucket.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh, no, you wouldn't. Pete, you wouldn't."

Pete dropped the hose and shook his head innocently. "Me? How can you think such a thing?"

Sarah edged her way around the car as Pete picked up the bucket. He circled around behind her.

"You put that bucket down! Right now!" Sarah tried to sound serious, but a fit of giggling took over.

Pete rushed her and threw the water from the bucket at Sarah. She ducked and avoided most of the soapy water. She picked up the hose and caught Pete square in the crotch of his shorts with a stream of water.

"Oh, Petey. Did you have an accident?" Sarah's giggle had turned into full laughter, and tears ran from her eyes.

"Oh, you're going to get it now!" Pete laughed as he moved towards Sarah.

"No!" Sarah squealed. She squirted him once more with the hose before dropping it and running across the grass.

Laughing as she ran, Sarah could hear Pete right behind her. Her foot slipped on the wet grass as she tried to cut hard right. They ended up tumbling into a heap on the grass. Pete's arms were around her as they laughed. Their eyes locked and they both got quiet.

Pete moved his lips to Sarah's and kissed her. Her eyes opened wide momentarily in shock.

He pulled away from the kiss as he felt her body tense, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"No." Sarah shook her head. "It's okay. Kiss me again, I want you to."

---

Sarah set the table. She lit the two candles, which stood in the center of the table. It looked exactly how she wanted it to. A quick glance at the clock told her Pete would be here at any moment. The lasagna had just come out of the oven.

She checked her makeup in the mirror once more, and adjusted her hair. A blush formed on her cheeks. She felt like a schoolgirl primping for the boy. They had laid on the grass kissing. Sarah had been glad when his tongue had slipped through her lips. The familiar ache and warming had formed deep inside of her.

For a few moments on the grass, she would have let him take her right there. A nervous excitement grew inside of her tonight. Would there be a repeat tonight? Or had this afternoon been just an accident

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts. Sarah opened the door and was impressed at the man standing there. In one hand, he held a dozen roses, and in the other, two bottles of wine.

"Come in." Sarah smiled. She was glad now she had opted to wear her black dress. Pete was wearing a pair of dark grey pants, grey sweater, and a grey tweed jacket. "You look very nice, Pete."

Pete gazed at Sarah. Her dress fit her perfectly, the material following her curves and clinging in all the right spots. "You look..." he smiled into Sarah's eyes. "Like the most beautiful woman in the world."

Sarah blushed. "Thank you, Pete."

She took the roses from his hand and pointed to the two bottles of wine. She smiled as she raised her eyebrows. "Planning on trying to get me drunk and taking advantage of me tonight?"

Pete blushed as he stammered. "N-n-no. I wasn't sure what you were cooking, so I brought a bottle of red and a bottle of white."

Sarah was surprised at what she had just said. "If you want, open the red, the corkscrew is in the drawer. We're having lasagna."

"This is really nice," Pete commented as he sat down.

"Thanks," Sarah beamed at the compliment. "I wanted to thank you for all the help you've been. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You're welcome." Pete took a bite of the lasagna. "That's really good."

Sarah gave him a warm smile. "Thanks. I really love to cook. It's tough cooking for one."

"You can cook for me anytime." Pete shot Sarah a warm smile as took another bite.

They consumed the bottle of red, and half the bottle of white with dinner. The two of them sat on the couch, happy with life, and slightly giddy from the wine. A cool summer breeze wafted through the open windows, bringing the sweet scent of lilacs into the house.

A silence fell over of them as they listened to the soft music from Sarah's father's old stereo.

Sarah could feel a ticklish, tingly feeling in her stomach. There was something between them. She thought that because this was her house, she might have to make the first move. Summoning all of her courage, she took Pete's hand in hers. "About this afternoon."

"I know, I've been meaning to apologize." Pete's voice was quiet and he cast his eyes downward.

"No." Sarah took his hand and placed it on her breast. "I'm glad it happened and I want you to kiss me again."

Pete liked how her breast felt in the palm of his hand. He was surprised when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. He leaned towards her and their lips brushed.

Sarah's mouth opened slightly as his tongue slipped over her lips. Their mouths began to move as their lips pressed tightly against the others. Pete's hand gently fondled her breast through the dress while Sarah's fingers ran through his hair.

Sarah felt her pulse quicken with the kiss. She liked the touch of his hand on her breast, firm, but gentle at the same time. A moan escaped from her lips as his mouth traveled to her neck.

Pete's fingers found her nipple trying to poke through the black material. The tips of his fingers stroked her taut nub in slow and gentle motions.

Since the broken engagement and subsequent graduation from college, Sarah had been involved in only a few relationships. Her unwillingness to fully consummate the sex act hadn't been an issue, especially after the men found out she was willing to use her skillful hands, and on occasion, her mouth to give them release. It wasn't that she was saving herself for marriage, a prospect which seemed to be less likely with each passing year. It was that she had been willing to give herself totally to the guy she had been engaged to, and had been betrayed.

Their kisses deepened. Pete's hands roamed over her dress, his fingers mapping her body.

Sarah liked his touch. There was a firmness to it she found exciting, and at the same time, a gentleness she found sensual. Sarah caressed his thigh, moving slowly towards his hip.

When her fingers grazed the bulge in his pants, he released a soft moan.

Sarah stopped his advance when he he began to reach under her dress and between her legs. "No, Pete, please..."

Pete looked confused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." He was embarrassed. Inwardly he was kicking himself for moving too fast.

"No, Pete, you don't understand. I don't want it to be here." Sarah's hand caressed his cheek. She looked deep into his eyes. "I want to go upstairs. I want you in bed with me."

He kissed her on the cheek and whispered, "I'd like that."

After blowing the candles out, Sarah led Pete upstairs to her bedroom. There, she lit a single candle. A dim yellow glow made the room soft and warm.

Sarah slipped his jacket from his shoulders and hung it on a chair. Pete watched as she began to unbutton his shirt. He couldn't feel her fingers trembling with nervous excitement as she undid one button after another.

She unfastened his belt. She held her breath as she undid the button at the top of his pants and then unzipped his fly. His erection ballooned inside his underwear. Her hand slipped in and wrapped around his stiff manhood.

"You might want to take your boots off." Her whisper was husky. The sexual excitement was building in her. The warm dampness she had felt downstairs had given way to a hot wetness.

She watched as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled one boot off, and then the other. Pete stuffed his socks into one of the boots. He stood up, and slipped his shirt off. Sarah took it and held onto it as he removed his pants.

Pete liked the feeling of her eyes on him as he removed his clothing. She took his pants from him, but her eyes were locked on the bulge in his underwear. He hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband and removed them. He stood, his swollen cock pointing towards Sarah.

She smiled, and presented her back. "Unzip me."

He stepped forward, his fingers shaking as he took hold of the zipper and pulled it down. Sarah turned around and let the dress drop from her body. She liked the excitement in eyes as he drank in her near naked body. As she pulled her panties down, she looked at Pete. "You saw me naked the other night, didn't you? When I was in the tub."

Pete's face turned red, and he tried to say something, but no words would come out.

"That's okay." Sarah's excitement grew at thought of what she was going to say next. "It turned me on knowing you were watching me."

She took a step towards Pete, wrapped her hand around his erect organ, and began to slowly stroke it. "I hope it turned you on."

All Pete could do was nod.

Sarah liked how his cock felt in her hand. She looked down at it. In the dim glow of the candle, she could see the plum-like tip glisten with his excitement. She was tempted to get down on her knees and take him into her mouth, but decided to save that for another time.

She motioned to the bed. "Should we get in?"

"Yes." Pete nodded.

The crisp, clean sheets felt cool on Sarah's body as she slid between them.

Pete's hand fondled her naked breast. "You're so beautiful."

Sarah felt her cheeks blush. "Thank you."

As his lips moved to her mouth, his hand moved over her belly. Her legs opened to grant him access to her most private spot. When his finger found the waiting wetness, she whispered, "Touch me, Pete."

Pete's finger glided between her creamy lips while she rubbed the underside of his stiff cock with the palm of her hand. As their mouths met, their tongues snaked out and danced with the other.

Sarah held her breath as Pete's finger slipped where few had gone before. She felt none of the tenseness she had experienced in the past. She welcomed his finger as it slid inside of her. Her hips responded to his touch.

A quiet moan of pleasure escaped from Pete as he felt Sarah's fingers wrap around his stiff shaft. He looked down and watched Sarah's hand slide up and down his erection.

"Do you like that?" Sarah looked into his eyes as her hand continued to pump up and down.

Pete sucked in a deep breath. "Yes. It feels so good."

Sarah didn't know if Pete was doing it on purpose, or by accident. It didn't matter. It felt good. As his finger slid in and out, his knuckle was rubbing on her clit. The movements of her hips were becoming more pronounced and her grip had tightened on his shaft.

"I want you, Pete." Her voice was husky and full of want.

"I want you, too," Pete responded, his voice heavy with lust.

"Now, Pete. Please?"

She released her grip on his cock and drew her knees up.

Pete paused, "I forgot to bring a condom."

"Just pull out before you ..." She was too embarrassed to say cum.

He just nodded and put the tip of his cock at her entrance. As he leaned forward, his cock began to penetrate her.

It was the moment which Sarah had been anticipating and dreading. She closed her eyes as she felt his erection slip inside of her. It felt different, but in a good way. For some reason she had imagined it would feel like one of her toys. It was warmer, it felt alive inside of her.

Her hands wrapped around his waist as she welcomed his cock moving deeper and deeper. Her face glowed with warmth as she looked into Pete's eyes. She saw her own radiant happiness reflected in his.

She met his thrusts with her own, her hips rising up to meet his. The feeling of his warm, stiff cock filling her was better than she expected. Pete was resting his weight on his hands, which were planted beside her shoulders. She could look down and see his cock, glistening with her juices, pump in and out of her pussy.

When he leaned a bit more forward, the top of his shaft rubbed back and forth along her swollen clit, sending waves of pleasure flowing through her body.

"Feels so good, god, you feel so good, Pete." Her eyes were half closed as she ran her nails over his back.

Pete loved the feeling of her fingernails clawing at his back. It spurred him to increase both the intensity and frequency of his thrusts.

"God, yes, Pete. Fuck me. You're going to make me cum." There was no hesitancy now in her voice. She was deep in the fog of lust and wanted him to make her climax.

Spurred on by her words, he began to drive harder and faster. "Cum for me Sarah, I want you to cum."

"Y-y-es!" Sarah cried out as her body began to shake.

Pete felt her pussy gripping his cock like a thousand little fingers. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back the inevitable. As he pulled his cock from her pussy, he looked into Sarah's eyes. "I'm going to cum."

Pete was surprised to feel her hand shoot out and begin to jack his cock in rapid, tight strokes. He looked down and watched her hand stroking him. Pete moaned as he saw the first long, pearly white stream of cum shoot from the tip of his cock.

Sarah felt the wet warmth of his cum splash on her body. Over and over, it landed on her arm, and belly. Her eyes were watching his as he rode the wave of his orgasm.

"Do you want me to go get something so you can clean yourself up?" Pete half whispered.

Sarah shook her head and pulled him down on her. "No, not yet, I just want you to hold me."

His arms felt comforting wrapped around her body. She kissed his cheek softly. Pete was her first, but she wasn't going to tell him, at least not yet. This felt too special right now to share.

Pete's fingers played with her hair. "I wonder if this is what it was like for mom and your dad."

"I was just wondering the same thing. It's as if it's all come full circle."

---

Almost a week had passed since the night they first made love. They sat in the chairs which Sarah's dad had made, enjoying the summer evening, holding hands and talking.

"I got a letter today from the school I was teaching at." Sarah watched the last of the orange disappear from the evening sky.

"Oh?" Pete felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt he had found the person he wanted to share his life with. He was in love with Sarah.

"It's about my position." Sarah turned and looked at Pete.

He was calculating how long it would take him to drive to see her. He smiled and squeezed her hand, not really wanting to hear what the letter had to say, at least not right now.

"Pete," Sarah waited until he looked into her eyes. "They've accepted my letter of resignation."

It took a minute for it to register. "Does that mean you're going to stay?"

Sarah nodded. "Yes. I've applied for a couple of teaching positions here."

Pete's face broke into a wide grin.

"I'm going to need your help with the house."

"I'd be more than happy to help you."

"I want to remodel the upstairs, I want to turn mom and dad's room and the spare room into a studio where I can paint. Maybe turn the downstairs into a gallery."

Pete nodded. "Well, winter is my slow season."

Sarah giggled and moved from her chair and sat in Pete's lap. "I might need a place to stay for the winter." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips.

"Be careful, kiss me like that again and I might tell you I love you." Pete whispered.

Sarah kissed him again. Pete didn't see the small tear which had formed in one eye. "I love you, Pete. Somehow I think I've always loved you."