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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Christina
by Oyster50 (oyster1950@gmail.com)

***

As we crawled out of town with the evacuees, she was 
sitting there munching on a granola bar and sipping a 
coke. I stole a glance over at her, removing my eyes off 
the traffic. She wasn't exactly smiling, but she did 
have a satisfied look on her face. (M/f-teen, underage, 
cons, rom)

***

-= Chapter One =-

Three hours worth of driving of the very worst sort. My 
trip was mixed in with the evacuation of parts of two 
states in the face of a hurricane barreling down on the 
Gulf Coast, and After white-knuckling a mere hundred 
miles, I pulled onto a secondary road thinking that 
maybe, just maybe, that the traffic would be less than 
the main highways. I was only partially correct, and I 
finally heeded my stomach's growling and pulled my rig 
into a roadside diner in a small town in north 
Louisiana.

I asked for, and got, a seat at a table in the corner, 
my back to the wall, so I could relax without dodging 
other clientele and also watch what was going on. 
Evacuations were sort of like kicking over the rotten 
log of civilization. You never knew what was going to 
scurry out into the sunlight.

I was entertaining a breakfast of steak and eggs, pretty 
nicely done, actually, and noticing the activity at a 
nearby booth. The occupants looked to be some bozo in 
maybe his early forties, around my age, a woman maybe 
five or so years younger, and a teen girl, I'm 
estimating maybe sixteen or seventeen at this point. 
They're just a little too far away for me to make out 
the conversation, but it doesn't appear to be too 
cordial, from the expressions of the participants.

I heard; "Mumble, mumble, mumble," from the guy. And, 
"Mumble, mumble, mumble," from the older female. And 
then, "Mumble, mumble, mumble," from the teen girl, 
except her voice had a tone of hurt and a bit of fright. 
Not my business. I forked another load of steak and eggs 
into my mouth.

The conversation changed. The guy's voice got loud, as 
in "MUMBLE MUMBLE" pause "MUMBLE MUMBLE MUMBLE" 
apparently directed at the teen who replied with a shake 
of chestnut hair, "mumble mumble".

The loudness put me on alert. I mean, country diner and 
all, you didn't expect to see people acting like this, 
and heads were turning in the direction of this one 
booth.

The guy got loud enough to understand. His actions made 
it even easier to understand. "YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE 
BITCH!!" and he reached across the booth table and 
grabbed the front of her blouse, pulling her up as he 
rose. His free hand was coming back. It didn't take a 
lot of analysis to see what was coming next. Me.

I stood up and pushed around my table. "HOLD!" I said, 
in my best command voice.

The dude dropped his free hand, shoved the girl backward 
against the back of the booth and turned towards me. 
"Boy!" he hissed. "You need to mind YOUR own fuckin' 
business!" I outweighed him and out reached him and was 
a good six inches taller. Bad odds. His right hand 
started into his pocket. The situation had just 
escalated.

My own right hand went across my midsection under my 
shirt-tail and came out with a compact 9mm pistol.

"Bud," I said, "if that hand doesn't come out of that 
pocket VERY slowly and VERY empty, you're gonna have a 
big hole in you."

His hand came out, slowly. The girl had slid down in the 
booth and was trying to get herself up form halfway on 
the floor. The older woman was screaming, "He's got a 
gun!" I didn't parse that very well. My own gun was 
obvious. Was she talking about her companion? The poor 
waitress was back behind the counter.

"Call 9-1-1," I said. "We need some law here. Fast!"

"They're on the way. I called when he raised his voice."

Indeed they were fast. Scarcely a minute and half 
passed, me holding the guy at gunpoint, when I saw the 
flashing lights and a deputy sheriff pushed through the 
door, gun drawn.

Three people said at the same time, "NOT HIM!" as I two-
fingered the gun delicately onto the table and stepped 
back. A second car pulled into the parking lot, light's 
blinking mad blue. A second deputy was in the place in a 
few seconds.

"Hurley!" screamed the waitress. "It's not the big guy!" 
I was the big guy. 6' 2", 200 pounds. I locked my 
fingers on top of my head, frozen. I mean, you never 
know with the small town cops, who's trigger happy, 
who's scared shitless, and any bad move, well…

"Hurley" was apparently the deputy who was first on the 
scene. He kept that damned pistol of his at eye level, 
midway between me and the bozo who started the mess. He 
addressed me. "Sir! Do you have any other weapons on 
you?"

"Yessir," I said. "I've got a folding knife hanging in 
my right pants pocket."

"Carefully remove the knife and put it on the table and 
step back."

I'm think that Deputy Hurley's thinking isn't really 
good if he lets me step close to the table with the gun 
laying on it, but I drop my right hand very slowly and 
remove the knife clipped in my pocket with a thumb and 
index finger and drop it softly on the table. And I step 
back. Hurley steps up and sticks my pistol and knife in 
his thigh pocket. He's looking at his partner.

"Jim," Hurley says, "That guy clean?"

"Jim" answers, "I haven't checked."

I know what comes next. "Sir," says Hurley, "turn around 
and put your hands behind your back."

And there I am, in the dining room of a Louisiana 
restaurant, in handcuffs. They perform a similar 
operation on the doofus and have a lot more fun with 
him, retrieving a little black automatic pistol from his 
pants pocket. Yeah. The pocket he was reaching into. Now 
he's in cuffs, too, and they're marching all four of us, 
me, the doofus, the middle-aged chick, and the teen 
girl, all of us, out into the parking lot. Now comes the 
fun part, where they try to unravel the story.

The waitress is out there too. And half the clientele, 
apparently regulars. And if you're a regular at a small 
town diner, you also get pretty familiar with the cops, 
so nobody was getting run off. They were the witnesses.

They started with the girl. Deputy Hurley asked, "Miss, 
do you have some ID?"

"I-in my purse," she sniffled. "It's at the table."

Hurley spoke to one old guy standing nearby. "Unka Bob, 
can you get this young lady's purse?" The old guy left 
and Hurley turned his attention back to the teen. 
"What's your name?"

"Tina. Christina Johnson," she sobbed, still shaken by 
the rush of events.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Now, very carefully, tell me what happened." He reached 
in his shirt pocket and pulled out a little recorder and 
punched a button.

"I- We were having breakfast, and had an argument, and 
Mister Jeff grabbed me and started to slap me." Sob. 
"And that guy stood up and told 'im to stop. An' Mister 
Jeff was pissed and threw me down and started to go for 
that pistol, 'cept that guy (me) was faster. Mister Jeff 
put his hands up an' you came in."

Hurley looked at me, then the doofus. "What was the 
argument about?"

Tina took a deep breath. "He said they didn't have 
enough money for breakfast an' cigarettes, and I was 
eatin' too much an' to give him my money so he could buy 
cigarettes. An' I told 'im "no" an' he called me an 
ungrateful little bitch an' grabbed me."

By that time Unka Bob was back with Tina's purse. He 
handed it to the deputy. The deputy eyed Tina. "Is there 
anything in there I need to worry about?"

Tina took another breath, trying to control her sobs. 
She shook her head. "No sir. My wallet. Tampons. 
Pictures. Little notebook. A pen."

He handed her the purse. "Show me your ID." She 
complied. He examined it and handed it back to her.

I was next. He stood in front of me, six feet away. "And 
you're?"

"Alan Dean Addison. Forty-one. From…" I named my home 
town.

"You heard what Miss Tina said?"

"Yessir," I said. Damned straight I called him "sir, 
despite him being at least a decade my junior. The guy 
was small town law enforcement and I was, in my own 
mind, 100% legal in my actions, but also 100% at his 
mercy as far as resolving the situation with the least 
pain to me.

"Is that pretty much what you saw go down?"

"Yessir," I said. "Except I didn't hear any of the 
conversation before he yelled "You ungrateful little 
bitch" and grabbed her. He was hauling his right hand 
back to slap her when I told him to stop. He threw her 
down, turned at me and said mind my own business and 
started reaching into his pocket. That's when I drew."

"Uh, Mister Addison, I'm gonna undo your cuffs. I want 
to see your ID. Don't move fast."

Freed, I very gingerly removed my wallet and retrieved 
two pieces of ID, a state drivers' license and a permit 
that allowed me to legally carry a concealed handgun. 
Hurley looked them both over and handed them back to me.

"So, you're carrying legally. That's one for you."

"Hurley. Son!" Unka Bob was interrupting.

Hurley turned. "Yessir?"

Unka Bob smiled at me. "This feller," he said, pointing 
to me, "saved that little girl a butt-kickin'"

The waitress intruded on the scene and joined in, "Yeah, 
I called your cell when that bunch started gettin' loud. 
Before he grabbed her. This guy stepped in just in 
time."

Things were lining up for me. Hurley looked at me. 
"Mister Addison, can you wait here? I need to get back 
with you."

Deputy #2 was going through the purse of the adult 
woman, and there were some curious artifacts laid out on 
the hood of his squad car, many of them involving tiny 
plastic bags.. The guy was already sitting in the back 
seat, behind a closed door. The woman ended up in the 
other police unit, still in cuffs. Their car was an 
older Japanese import and by the time the deputies 
started going through it, a state police crime lab unit 
was on the way. Drugs.

Deputy Hurley approached me. "What are you driving?"

"That rig over there," I said, pointing to my "on the 
road" rig, a big silver diesel pickup truck towing a 
thirty-three foot travel trailer.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "Can you follow us to the station? 
I'm gonna need a statement."

"Sure," I said. "I hope you have room for me to pull in. 
That's a bitch to back up."

He laughed. "We'll fix you up." And there was forgotten 
participant. Miss Tina. Hurley looked at her. She'd 
regained composure. Was standing there, all five-foot 
seven or eight (tall girl) of her, hips a little wider 
than a bikini model, the tiniest bit of a muffin top 
over her tight jean shorts, her blue cotton blouse 
knotted just above the beltline of the shorts. Auburn 
hair. Blue eyes. And pissed.

"What about me?" she asked. Hurley's eyes darted back 
and forth between his car and his partner's, each with a 
handcuffed suspect in the back seat. Hurley opened his 
passenger side door for her and the doofus in the back 
began screaming and cursing her. He took her to the 
other car, and got much the same treatment from the 
woman.

He looked at me. At her. At me. "You saved 'er. Got any 
problem with giving her a ride? Miss Tina? "Is that 
okay?"

Tina looked at me. "I suppose."

"Wait a second," I said. I spotted the waitress and 
pulled out a twenty dollar bill. Handing it to her, I 
said, "This'll cover my breakfast. And that little 
lady's. And your tip." I turned back to the deputy. 
"Let's go, then." I turned to the second deputy. "How 
about some flashy light stuff so I can get this thing 
out of the parking lot?"

"Sure," he said. "You just gave her like a six dollar 
tip. You gonna ruin 'er for the rest of us."

"Yeah," I said. "But her day went all to hell. Figure 
she could use a boost."

Lights flashing, I followed as we crossed the steady 
stream of hurricane evacuees and I followed him to the 
sheriff's office. True to their word, they led me around 
in a big parking lot so I didn't have to fight that long 
trailer. Tina didn't say a word the whole trip. It 
wasn't a long trip. Just awfully silent.

We followed the deputy into the building. He motioned to 
a set of chairs. "Ya'll can wait here. Wanna coke? 
Coffee?"

"Coffee would be nice," I said. I looked at Tina. "You 
want something?"

"Coffee, I guess," she said.

"Coffee pot's in here," the deputy motioned. "I'll make 
a fresh pot."

About that time, the entry door opened and the waitress 
from the restaurant walked in. She immediately went to 
Tina's side. "Hon," she cooed, "Are you okay?"

Tina nodded. "He saved me."

"Uh-huh," said the waitress. "That man was getting ready 
to knock the crap out of you."

Tina shook her head. "He was." She looked at me. "Uh, 
mister, I don't remember your name."

"Alan," I said. "Alan Addison. And you're..."

"Tina. Christina Johnson. Thank you. For stopping him."

"It's okay, Tina. I'm glad I could help."

The deputy stuck his head in the door. "Folks..." and 
then he saw the waitress. "Hi, Debbie," he said. "Uh, 
folks, the coffee's ready."

Debbie laughed. "I can do without another sniff of 
coffee today. You got some paper for me to write my 
statement on?"

"Sure," he said. "Just a sec." He ducked away, then 
back, handing Debbie a few forms. "Just write it out in 
your own words. I'll come by the restaurant in the 
morning and get 'em." He turned to us. "Come help 
yourself."

We stood, and I let Tina go first. She fixed herself a 
cup of coffee, then I fixed mine as she watched. I took 
a sip, savoring the aroma of the steam.

"Gah... I still have the jitters, Mister Alan," she 
said.

"I'm kinda the same way."

"You pulled your gun on 'im."

"I didn't have much choice, Tina. He was... well, I 
didn't know what he was going to do. Gun. Knife. 
Whatever. And I wasn't going to stand there and watch 
him slap you around. Did I hear correctly? He wanted 
your money to buy cigarettes?"

"Yeah. Cigarettes. And Mom was mad because I didn't give 
it to him. I babysit for that money. It was all I had."

"That was you dad?"

"God, no! Mom's current boyfriend. I hate 'im. He hates 
me. Doesn't want me around. We evacuated an' he's got 
friends in Arkansas. I honestly don't think I'd've come 
home alive. Really."

We walked back into the waiting room. "So now what do 
you do?"

"I don't know. Mom was all I had. I've been living with 
her for nine months since Grandma died. I was living 
with Grandma for the past five years while Mom did her 
thing... uh, make that THINGS. Like that guy."

"Do you have any other relatives? Grandparents? Aunts? 
Uncles?"

"Not that I know of. If I had something better, I'd be 
doing it. And it wouldn't take much to be better than 
Mom and her druggie friends. 

I'm seventeen. I'd run away, but I don't know where to 
run."

"Gosh."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mister Alan. I don't mean to drag you 
down." She sighed.

I looked a little longer. She was not unattractive, even 
under adverse circumstances. I mean, evacuation by car 
is not conducive to good hygiene or personal care, but 
even with her hair in a bit of disarray (being thrown to 
the floor will do that) and face tracked with dried 
tears, she was cute. Maybe not a centerfold cute, but 
cute.

"You're not dragging me down, Tina. Everybody's got 
stories."

She sighed. "So what's yours? You evacuating too?"

I smiled. "Oddly enough, no. I just got caught in it. 
I'm on my way to a project in Tennessee. New factory's 
being built, and I'm the guy they chose to build the 
electrical part. I'm an electrical engineer."

"And you bring your travel trailer?"

"Yeah. I researched RV parks until I found one that 
sounds good, willing to put up with me for a few months, 
off the beaten path, and I'll park the trailer there and 
live out of it for the duration of the project."

"Is that good money?"

"Yeah, pretty nice. They pay me a hundred and seventy 
five dollars a day to live there. My hour rate works out 
to seventy-five bucks an hour. Plus I get a twenty-five 
percent bonus if I stay until the project completes, 
plus we get bonuses if we make certain schedules."

"Gosh. And you're just going there? Today?"

"No, I was planning on a night in a motel on the way. 
About halfway. But right now I'm sitting in a sheriff's 
office in Armpit, Louisiana instead of driving, so I 
don't know how far behind I'm going to be. I wasn't 
supposed to start for a week anyway."

"Oh."

"So what happens to Tina?"

"I don't know," she said. "I'm sure there's a shelter or 
something."

"Or something." I was thinking. Shouldn't be. But was. 
After all, I'd already helped once today.

Another deputy stuck his head in the door. "Uh, could 
you folks come back here with me?"

Tina and I ended up in separate offices. I imagine she 
was doing what I was doing, getting another round of 
interviews about what happened.

I'm good at interviews. I interview lots of people for 
jobs, from shovel-jockey to engineer, so I know how to 
handle myself. And I was having fun, once the pressure 
was off. I gave them all they wanted to know. The deputy 
who did the interview was sympathetic to my position. 
Asked about my holster, my gun, my carry, how often I 
practiced. I took him out and showed him my travel 
trailer, a heavily modified floor plan I'd ordered 
special for MY requirements. And the truck. A nice 
pickup truck is like a social event in some circles, and 
although it was only a tool to me, I knew that some 
people liked seeing one well turned out. They were 
finished with me. I got my pistol and my knife back.

I was walking up the hall and I saw Tina sitting in an 
office. I saw Deputy Hurley sitting in another office. I 
knocked on his door. 

"Hey," I said. "I want to thank you for the professional 
job you guys did today." A little honey catches flies, 
you know. "Can I ask about the other people? What's 
happening?"

"Uh," he said, "Off the record, you know..."

"Of course," I said.

"The guy, your buddy? Outstanding warrants. A bunch. 
Parole violation with him having a gun. And drugs. 
Intent to distribute. That puts him in state and Federal 
jurisdiction. He ain't comin' out any time soon."

"I ain't supposed to say "he looked the type..." I 
started.

Hurley finished. "He looked the type. And the adult 
woman, damn near as bad. Parole violation. Probation for 
previous drug offenses. 

Prostitution. And drugs in her purse. She's gone."

"Uh, what about Miss Tina?"

"That's the tough part. Best we can tell, she's never 
been in trouble. Not even a traffic ticket. Her personal 
possessions are clean. I tell you, Mister Addison, I 
just think she was being dragged along. Not very 
willingly."

"So where's she go?" I asked.

"That's the tough part. She's seventeen. We're trying to 
find something for her. But right now, she's kind of in 
limbo. I mean, she could walk out the door right now and 
we couldn't stop her. But the sad thing is, she says 
she's got nowhere to go." He looked genuinely concerned. 
"She's just a little younger than my kid sister."

"Can I talk to her?" I asked, knowing that I could be 
treading on thin ice.

"Sure. But... Why?"

"I dunno. Offer to help. Again."

Hurley half-smiled. "Might be the best chance she has 
right now."

I walked back up the hall and stuck my head in the door 
where Tina was sitting. "Tina," I said softly, "you got 
a minute?"

When she turned there was moisture in the corners of her 
eyes. "Looks like I've got more than a minute, Mister 
Alan. Why?"

"I was talking to Deputy Hurley. He's telling me what 
you're up against right now. I know this may sound 
strange, but... don't take this wrong. I could make room 
for you for a while. With me. Until school."

"School's over, Mister Alan. I dropped out. Mom moved us 
six times in nine months. I tried changing schools three 
times. And I gave up." 

She hung her head. "Grandma'd be crying to know that."

"I'm sorry. But then, school. Or no school. I have a 
place for you to stay. No strings. None. I mean it. 
None. If you want. It ain't much. A travel trailer."

She turned teary eyes to me. "You'd... you really 
would..."

"I really would," I said. "You want to go tell Deputy 
Hurley?"

She was starting to smile a bit. For the first time 
since I met her. She knocked on Deputy Hurley's door.

"Come in, Miss Tina," he said.

"Deputy Hurley," she said, "Uh... Mister Alan has 
offered to give me a place to stay for a while. I just 
wanted to let you know."

Hurley looked at me. "Uh, Mister Addison. A minute, 
please? Excuse us, Miss Tina."

I knew where this one was going. "Okay, Deputy Hurley. I 
know what you're thinking."

"No shit," he said. "D'you KNOW that she's still under a 
lot of confusion and crap from this morning?"

"Yes I do," I said. "And I aim to reduce that a bit by 
NOT forcing her into a temporary home or a shelter for 
battered women or whatever else comes up."

"You tell me with a straight face..." He glared.

"Deputy Hurley." I glanced at the nameplate on his desk. 
"Bill, if I can be so bold. I am a man of honor. I stood 
up for that young lady this morning under threat of harm 
to my own body. I am not about to cart her off somewhere 
to turn her into a sex slave or a play toy. I'm just 
trying to help." 

I reached in my wallet and pulled out a business card. 
"This is MY business card. You can call it tomorrow or 
next week or next month. I will answer the phone. If 
Tina is around, SHE will talk to you. And like I told 
you, I am going to work for six months on a project, and 
my name and reputation are on the line. I am a 
professional, as are you. Give me your trust."

"Damn, man! What a speech. Okay. Okay! I'm sorry. Like I 
said. Little sister. Okay?"

"Okay," I said. "And like I said, I appreciate you doing 
your job as conscientiously as you've done it. Including 
this."

"Okay, Mister Addison."

"Alan," I said.

"Alan. Open the door and ask Tina back in."

Tina popped back in. "Yessir?" she asked.

Hurley said, "Me and Alan had a discussion about you. I 
understand that he's offering to give you a place to 
stay. But here's the deal. I don't care if you ARE in 
Tennessee. If you get in trouble. With him or anybody 
else. Here's MY card. You call me and I will personally 
come up there and get you and kick whoever's ass needs 
kicking."

"I believe him, Miss Tina," I said.

"So do I," she said. "Thank you, Deputy Hurley. You've 
been good to me. I'll call you and tell you how things 
are going."

"You do that, little sister," he said.

We were walking out to the truck. "What'd he mean, 
"little sister"?" she asked.

I told her, "He said you're just a few years younger 
than his little sister and he didn't want anything bad 
to happen to you."

She looked at me. "You mean, like getting slapped around 
by Mister Druggie this morning?"

"Or worse..."

"Mister Alan, there's no telling how much worse it 
would've been."

She climbed in on the passenger side of the truck and I 
cranked up the diesel and let it clatter at idle for a 
minute.

"Nice truck," she said.

"Tool," I said. "Some people treat it like a status 
thing. To me, it's just a good tool for what I need. And 
I take care of it. That's why we're sitting her for a 
minute, to let things get warm."

"Oh," she said. She clicked her seatbelt and I clicked 
mine and I shifted into gear and off we went. 
Considering that I was at breakfast at eight when things 
went bad this morning, and it was now two-thirty, I 
counted myself lucky.

"If you're hungry," I said, "there's granola bars and 
stuff in the console. Help yourself. And the ice chest 
behind the seat has cokes."

"D'you want one?" she asked.

"I could use another coke," I said.

As we crawled out of town with the evacuees, she was 
sitting there munching on a granola bar and sipping a 
coke. I stole a glance over at her, removing my eyes off 
the traffic. She wasn't exactly smiling, but she did 
have a satisfied look on her face.


-= Chapter Two =-

An hour and a half later and we were out of the worst of 
the traffic and I had the cruise control locked in at 
seventy, letting that diesel engine do what it did best, 
eat up miles. I'd noted that, despite a cup of coffee 
and a coke, Miss Tina'd seen fit to doze off for an hour 
or so. She woke up to the rhythm of the interstate under 
our wheels.

"Are we gonna get there this evening?" she asked.

"Nope. If I drove straight through, maybe we'd get there 
sometime after midnight. I'm not up to that kind of 
driving if I don't have to," I said.

"I've got my license. I could drive," she said.

That was an interesting thought that I hadn't 
entertained. But, "No, you're not on my insurance, Tina. 
But I appreciate the offer. Really."

"So what are we going to do? For the night, I mean?"

"Let's see," I said. "Open this map." I still had paper 
maps. She complied. "In two more hours we'll be here," I 
pointed to a town in Mississippi. "If you check my 
cellphone under "Holiday Inn" you'll see a number for 
them. Tell 'em we need a room with two beds, non-
smoking. Uh... you don't smoke, do you?"

"Yecchhhhh!" she spat. "Uh... I have a problem," she 
said. "Actually, a couple of 'em."

"What sort of problem?"

"One, I'm... Uh... let me put it delicately... I'm on my 
period, and I have two tampons left. And two, all the 
clothes that I own are in that Wal-mart bag behind the 
seat."

"Oh," I said. "I thought you said "problem". Make the 
hotel reservation. That town's big enough to have a mall 
and we'll hit town at six or so. We go to the mall, you 
get what you need. No problem as far as I can see."

"Nuh-uh. Problem. I almost got the crap slapped out of 
me for forty bucks. That's all the money I have."

"You keep arguing," I smiled. "I got a gold card in my 
pocket and it needs exercise."

"But I can't pay you back, Mister Alan."

"Look, Miss Tina, first thing is, we get rid of this 
"Mister – Miss" stuff. I'll be Alan and you'll be Tina, 
okay?"

"Uh, okay..."

"And second, buying you the things you need is NOT going 
to inconvenience me in the least. You need stuff. I'm 
getting you stuff. Pretty simple. And I didn't say 
anything about paying back. So stop worrying."

"Okay... Alan." And she smiled. Just a little bit. And 
it was wonderful.

I listened to her reserve us a room, reading numbers off 
my Visa card. An hour later we were at the mall, and I 
followed her part time, led her the other part, forcing 
her to get a couple of changes of clothes, bought both 
of us pajamas, extra bath towels, an inordinate amount 
of strange substances apparently needed by young ladies 
in the bath, a hair dryer, and as we were heading out, 
me carrying six huge bags, her carrying one, we happened 
past one of those accursed perfume counters and she got 
whiffed by a charming, perfectly coiffed lady wielding a 
sample spritzer like an artillery piece.

"Mmmmmm," Tina said. "I love that stuff. Always have."

I dropped my load of bags and reached for my wallet. She 
put her hand on my arm. Electricity coursed through me 
at this, the first touch. 

"No, Alan. I understand all this other stuff. I need 
things. But I don't NEED perfume."

"Hush!" I told her, slapping the gold card on the 
counter. To the lady with the spritzer I said, "Which do 
you recommend? The cologne or the perfume?"

And Tina added another bag. We guarded our treasures as 
each of us made a run at the food court for dinner.

We got back in the truck and drove up the highway away 
from the mall to the hotel on the side of the 
interstate. I checked us in and we started unloading 
bags into the room. I had my one overnight bag, the 
remainder of my stuff being stored in the trailer. Tina 
had two loads.

And now I began to see how sticky things might be. At 
this point, I was being completely non-lecherous. I was 
truthful when I told both Tina and Deputy Hurley that I 
had no intention of Tina being my sex toy. I was as 
serious to myself. In my own mind, she was as 
untouchable as a vestal virgin. And here we were in the 
same hotel room.

First line of business was for us to rifle through the 
bags for pajamas. She continued past that point to 
locate panties (hip-hugger, in pastel colors. I bit the 
inside of my mouth) and a new bra, 34-B. She also chose 
the next day's ensemble, jeans and of all things, a 
rugby shirt. Those were all carefully laid out, along 
with my shirt for the next day. My pants had yet to 
suffer to the point that I determine a fresh pair is 
needed.

Next, it's shower time for Tina. I plopped my ass down 
in a comfy chair and found TV channels to surf while she 
hauled her bag of goodies into the bathroom and shut the 
door. I heard shower for a while, then various noises 
including gargling sounds and then ten minutes of hair 
dryer. And the door opened, and out of the darkness came 
a vision. Clean, sweet-smelling, hair washed, dried, and 
brushed to a shine, her bangs glistening like jewels 
above those blue eyes, the slightest curl where her hair 
just brushed her shoulders. And she was smiling.

"Gah, Alan, I feel so much better."

"You look much happier," I said. "Lemme go see if the 
works for me."

Half an hour later I was shaved, showered, deodorized, 
and after-shaved. I told myself that the aftershave was 
because it made my face feel good. For me. I slid into a 
new set of pajamas, a big change since my usual bed-time 
garb was a t-shirt and drawers. But there I was, in 
PJ's, walking out of the bathroom.

To a smiling Tina. "Wow! You smell better."

"Uh... I'm sorry. I didn't know I smelt BAD..."

She smirked. "Maybe it was the adrenaline."

"Yeah... probably so." I turned down my bed and 
stretched out in it.

"Are we gonna fight over the remote control?" she 
laughed.

"Nope. Tonight I relinquish the control to you. Whatever 
you want to watch."

She flipped channels. Paused on "Cops". "Hmph!" she 
snorted. "That's where Mom's guys get their career 
tips." Kept flipping. "Oooooooh! Do you mind? Animal 
Planet. "The Blue Seas"? I LOVE this!"

I was pleasantly surprised. I figured, oh, I don't know 
what I figured. This was good. No, great. "You like this 
stuff?"

"Oh, gosh, yes! My favorites. Learn stuff."

"Well, then be my guest, little princess. We're not 
going to argue about TV."

"Really?"

"Really," I said.

She turned her own bed down. We watched and talked. And 
what I didn't hear was as important as what I did hear. 
I didn't hear "like" and "ya know" and "He's like" and 
other contemporary argot. That left me to parse the 
"high-school dropout" angle.

Ten o'clock came around and I noted that we needed to 
get rolling by 0700.

"Okay," she said. "Can I set the sleep timer on the TV?"

"Sure," I said.

She set the timer and I reached to turn out the lights, 
and I heard in the room, dimly lit by the flicker of the 
TV screen, "Alan, thank you."

"No, thank you, Tina. You've added a new adventure to my 
life." And that is the note I went to sleep on. And 
strange dreams.

***

The alarm woke me up from a sound sleep. I looked over 
at the next bed and saw the lump that was Tina. She 
stirred.

I turned on the light. "Owwwwww," she complained. Then, 
"oh, yeah..." And she sat up, rubbed her eyes, looked at 
me, and smiled. "Hi, Alan."

"Hi, Tina. I hate to be a party pooper, but we have to 
get in gear, dear."

"Yes, dear," she teased.

"You want the bathroom to get dressed, or here? I'll 
take the other one."

"Bathroom," she said.

"Wait," I said. "Before you take over."

I went and relieved my bladder. When I got out, there 
was Tina, eyebrow raised, baby-talking, "Did my widdle 
boy have to go potty?"

"Like a racehorse," I countered.

She took over the bathroom. I heard face being washed, 
teeth being brushed, and in ten minutes a Tina showed 
up, ready for the day. I did the teeth thing and I was 
ready to go, that is as soon as we packed up. Two trips 
to the truck. I stopped by the front desk and paid the 
tab, and we made a short run across the interstate to a 
diner for breakfast.

Pancakes and coffee, and conversation. "Maybe we won't 
have to shoot our way out of this one, babe," she 
smirked.

I noted with interest, the term "babe" used in reference 
to me. "Gosh," I said, "At least not until next week."

Walking back across the parking lot to the truck and 
trailer, I noticed that there was less distance between 
us than before.

In the truck, in five minutes we were back on the open 
road, locked in at seventy. She loosened her seatbelt 
and turned sideways.

"So if we're gonna be living together, don't you think 
we should know something about each other?"

"That might be good. I figured you'd tell me what you 
wanted, whenever you felt up to it."

"I'm talkin' about you, Alan," she said.

"Okay. What do you want to know? If I don't want to 
answer, I'll tell you. Between us, that's gonna be the 
rule. If you don't want to tell, just say no. No lies, 
okay?"

"Okay. Wife?"

"Nope," I said. "Divorced four years ago. She left with 
a high school sweetheart. Living in California with new 
husband and our daughter."

"Daughter?"

"Yeah. Sara will be seven this year. Have her a month in 
the summer. Might fly her in for Christmas or 
Thanksgiving, IF the ex will submit to such horrors. You 
want to know what's sad?"

"What's sadder than that?" Tina asked.

"She had complications during the pregnancy and delivery 
and her doctor said another baby might be very bad for 
her or the baby, so she talked ME into getting a… uh… 
fixed. Of course, now that I'm forty, that's not as big 
a deal, but to some women…"

"Yeah, I guess some women would see that as a minus. 
Girlfriends?"

"Nope. Not in the last two years. Gave up on the dating 
scene. Don't do one-night stands. Morals, and all that."

"Really? It's been a long time since I heard that," she 
said.

"Besides, I'm weird. Just ask the ex. I listen to the 
wrong kind of music. Watch the wrong kind of TV. Laugh 
at the wrong kind of jokes.

"I thought you liked the right kind of TV last night." 
She paused. "Okay. Let's move on to the music thing. Let 
me guess. Hip-hop." 

She smirked again.

"You need a magic marker to make you a cardboard sign 
for the side of the road?"

Laughing. "Okay, so what..."

"Look in the console."

She opened the console and pulled out two CD's. "Uh... 
if this is the wrong kind... Alan, I miss this music."

"Are you looking at..."

"Bach. Brandenburg Concertos. Beethoven. Symphonies. Oh, 
god! Pastorale!"

"W-w-wait! You're a teenaged girl. It's supposed to be 
boy bands and hip-hop."

"Not when you're looking for a little bit of theology 
and geometry in your universe."

"Theology and geometry? Like in "Confederacy of 
Dunces"?"

Squeal. "You know the book?"

"Not the kind of book I expect to be known by a high 
school dropout, Tina."

"About that," she sighed. "I wanted to explain. This is 
as good a time as any. When my Grandma was alive and I 
lived with her, I had a 3.8 average. When she died, and 
I had to live with Mom, like I said, school after 
school, never enough days, I gave up." She looked at me 
with serious eyes. "I'm not stupid. And I'm not lazy. 
I'm not my mother's daughter, I'm HER mother's grand-
daughter, and I want to go back to school."

"That answers that question, then," I said.

"You had a question? Really? About me?"

"Yes, Tina, I did. I was quite happy to help you out, 
but honestly, I didn't know how much I could do if you 
were a dropout and done with school. Now I have some 
hope. 3.8? Really? Wow! I didn't do THAT good."

"So you're thinking about my school now?"

"Yeah. We'll have to figure some stuff out. Get you 
graduated from high school. College?"

"Was a dream. I was hoping for scholarships. Grandma was 
going to help, but she was on fixed income. And when she 
died..." she sighed. 

"Hope of college died too."

"Don't give up hope, Tina. Let's see where this leads, 
okay?"

"Okay. Now, back to Alan. You went to college, 
obviously. Engineering. Isn't that tough?"

"Not if you get your head into the game. And I was Army 
ROTC, so I spent four years as an engineer lieutenant."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"And now..." She was paying close attention now.

"And now I'm pretty well known in a small field of 
people who take care of industrial power systems, and 
that's what I'm, we're going to go do in Tennessee. It 
pays good if I'm willing to travel, and with no wife and 
kids to take care of, I AM willing to travel."

She was smiling. "And rescue young damsels in distress."

"That too. Now, tell me more about Tina."

"I turned seventeen three months ago. I should be 
starting my senior year in high school. I used to swim 
on the city team. I am computer literate. I like 
classical music, although I think Chopin is trying too 
hard to sound sophisticated and darned little good 
classical music has been written since 1900. Well, some 
of Copland's stuff, and a few others. I can stand some 
ragtime and some bits of other genres."

"Boyfriends?"

"I've dated a few. Nothing serious. Because boys my age, 
at least the ones I met, AREN'T serious. They're as bad 
as girls except it's pickup trucks and cars instead of 
nail polish and hairdos, and there's that ONE thing 
that's always on their minds when they're on a date and 
get you alone."

"Ah, yes," I said. "I remember being young and stupid. 
Thanks for reminding me."

She was on a roll. "So I'm out on a date with a guy I'm 
thinking is cute and smart and I've just finished 
reading "Confederacy" and I start talking about it and 
he's all about, "Can I touch your tits" and I'm pushing 
hands away. She sighed. "I want to be a MIND."

"I understand," I said.

"No you don't. It's different for guys."

"No, babe," I said. Oops. Called her "babe". Move on. 
"When the men and women are forty, it gets all screwed 
up. Women think that if they get you into bed a time or 
two that you're ready for marriage. And I'm thinking, 
"Hey, you hated my music. And I supposed to spend the 
rest of my life in a house without Beethoven?"

Her laughter was like tinkling bells. "Maybe you DO 
understand."

She continued. "And then I moved back in with Mom. 
SuperMom. As in, "Oh, baby you're old enough. Go out 
with HIM. He's got a nice car." 

 And "You might give a little to get a little, you know 
what I mean?" And "He didn't mean to walk in on you in 
the shower. And it's no big deal if he saw you naked." 
And "don't be so sensitive. A lot of people ain't as 
picky about showing off their bodies. Get over it."

"Really? That bad.?"

"That bad. Grandma cried about how her daughter turned 
out to be such a, in her words, slut." She sighed. Then 
I saw her smile. "School. I get to go back to school."

"If that's what you want, Tina."

"That's what I want."

***

Lunchtime saw us parked in the back corner of a roadside 
restaurant, inside for a stretch and a bathroom break 
and a decent meal. Two o'clock saw us pulling into the 
RV park we'd be calling home for the next six months. 
That was the plan, anyway. We got down together and I 
signed in at the office, meeting the manager, getting 
the talk about the lay of the park, the amenities, the 
rules and we got pointed to a spot in the most remote 
corner, per my request.

I did the much-hated backing of a thirty-three foot 
trailer into a spot, then with Tina helping, got 
unhitched, leveled, electricity, water and waste 
connected, then I climbed a ladder and installed my 
satellite TV dish. To Tina I said, "There. Animal 
Planet, Discovery, History, MTV, VH1..."

"Watch it, Alan. You're falling off your white horse." 
and laughter.

"Okay, princess, it's time to see your new castle," I 
said, unlocking the door and lowering the retractable 
step. She stepped in first.

"Wow! This is nice! I haven't lived in anything this 
nice since Grandma's."

"You like it? Really?"

"Yeah," she said. "It's small, but you've got 
everything. Kitchen. Little washer and dryer. "Uh... 
just one bed..."

"And the sofa makes out into another. I had this one 
custom made. I didn't plan on company. But I've slept on 
the sofa and..."

"It's nicer than anything I've seen in a year, Alan. 
This is wonderful."

I wish I heard more assurance in her voice.

We moved her stuff from the truck to one of the two 
clothes closets. I showed her the bathroom. Storage 
space. Where to turn water on and off. Gas. Electricity. 
I also showed her how the sofa made out into a bed, a 
fairly easy operation but instead she stretched out full 
length on it in "Sofa" mode.

"This is a sight better than I'm used to. I had a single 
bed in Mom's apartment and the mattress was shot."

"I'm sorry, b…" I caught myself. "uh, Tina, but when I 
designed this I didn't plan on a teen girl living with 
me."

"That's okaaay, Alan, really. If you put up with me, I 
can put up with this." She got up and opened cabinets. 
"You got pots and pans. We need to go grocery shopping. 
Get stuff to cook."

"Uh," I said, "I don't usually cook much past TV 
dinners."

"But I can cook. So let's make a list. And then go 
shopping."

She retrieved the little notebook from her purse and 
started writing. As she wrote, she questioned me about 
foods I liked and disliked, studiously scribbling in her 
notebook in a tight and even hand.

"'Kay," she announced. "Now let's go buy groceries."

And we did. Once in the truck, I asked, "Tina, if you're 
serious about going back to school, I'm gonna call 
tomorrow and see what it takes to get you in. if you're 
serious."

"I'm serious. I can't imagine not having at least a high 
school diploma, Alan. What do people do?"

"I don't know. Some make it without the diploma, but 
that's not the way to bet."

"I'd really like college."

"That's what you said. Let's get you through high school 
first."

Giggle. "Yeah. High school."

Driving out of the park, we drove past the pool. There 
were two couples sitting poolside watching some kids 
splash around.

"I need a bathing suit. I could enjoy that pool," she 
said.

"Me too," I responded. "We'll see about getting suits. 
Maybe tomorrow."

As we drove, she asked, "What's the plan for tomorrow, 
anyway?"

I glanced at her. "I figured we'd find where I have to 
work, and see what kind of drive it is. Maybe find the 
high school. Go into town 

and get a couple of swimsuits. And YOU get to say, too, 
you know. I don't start working until next Monday. We 
have all week."

"'Kay," she smiled.

Groceries collected we retired back to our trailer. It 
was nearing darkness. "Tina, I'm going to walk a lap 
around the park. I need the exercise." I tried to do 
something three or four times a week. Kept the weight 
down and my health up.

"Uh, okay," she said. "Is this your 'alone' time, or can 
I walk with you?"

"Let's go. If I need 'alone' time, I'll tell you. I've 
had plenty enough in that last couple of years. It's 
nice to have somebody to talk with."

We locked the trailer and started walking. Sunday 
evening, there were still three other trailers in the 
park. Two retired couples were sitting outside near one, 
chatting. We stopped and exchanged pleasantries. 
Continuing the walk, we caught up with a third retired 
couple walking like us, enjoying the evening calm. We 
made a point of examining the park's pool area. Looked 
like a good thing. At least through September, before it 
started getting too cool. So we had a month.

I walk pretty briskly, so I was stepping out. I noted 
that Tina was matching me step for step without 
complaint, and carrying on conversation as she did so. 
Healthy. Okay.

I unlocked the trailer and let us in. "Who goes first?"

"Me, if you don't mind…" she said.

"Okay, but remember to go easy on the hot water. We got 
a ten-gallon heater. So wet down, soap up, rinse. Same 
thing on shampoo."

Giggle. "I read that's how you do it on a boat," she 
said. "I'll leave you some hot water."

"Uh, another problem. These things aren't exactly built 
for privacy. I'll stay in my end with the curtain closed 
until you're dressed, okay?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." She fixed me in a stare. "This is 
gonna be difficult, huh?"

"I'm sorry. You got a better idea?"

"Yeas, I do, if YOU'RE the kind of man I think you are. 
I mean, locking yourself behind a curtain…"

"What's the alternative?"

She stared at me, her lips belying a firm resolve. "You 
can just decide that you might see as much of a female 
as you would on any beach in the country. I won't flash 
you or tease you. And you try to be the same when it's 
your turn. I've seen guys before. I think we're both 
adults and we can restrain ourselves."

"There you go, making sense," I said.

She smiled. "I don't want to mess up your life, Alan. We 
just both live here, and we get along, and treat each 
other like adults, okay?"

This from a cute seventeen year old girl. That, yes, 
part of me definitely wanted to see naked. But I pushed 
that part back down in my head. "Okay, princess."

She huffed. "Stop calling me princess."

"You ARE a princess."

"I will carry my weight in this house, okay? Really."

"Okay," I said. "Then we'll have a couple of TV dinners. 
And tomorrow we'll try cooking."

"Okay." She smiled. "Alan, I appreciate what you're 
doing for me. What you've already done. We'll work this 
all out, okay?"

"Okay. Get your shower." And I went back to my chair 
with my back to the bathroom. I heard the water run. 
Stop. Run again. Stop. Run again. Then bumping and a 
towel-clad Tina zipped up the narrow aisle to the 
bedroom where her clothes were. The privacy curtain 
closed for a minute, then she emerged.

"See!" she laughed. "We made it. Your turn. I'm gonna 
dry my hair." Pajama-clad, she sat on the steps to my 
bed and started brushing and blowing.

I'd done enough in this trailer to have a routine, but 
that had to be altered at the point where I walked 
around nude. I brought my tighty-whities into the little 
bathroom and in the confined space, I toweled off and 
donned them, then opened the door to let the moist air 
out while I shaved. I emerged and Tina was sitting on 
the sofa.

"Oh, wow," she laughed. Tighty-whities. I can hardly 
contain myself." Sarcasm dripped.

"I didn't know I was sharing a trailer with a smartass," 
I laughed, as I donned my own pajamas.

"One of my many talents," she smirked. Punching the 
start button on the microwave, she giggled. "This is 
another."

TV dinners and soft drinks. "We can do better than 
this," she said as we sat opposite one another in the 
dining booth. She was right. We watched TV together, me 
with my laptop and a wireless card, checking email and a 
couple of engineering websites. She looked.

"I haven't used a computer since Grandma's house. I had 
a laptop. It "disappeared" at Mom's."

I picked it up and handed it to her. "Use this one."

"You don't mind?"

"I gotta trust you, huh?"

"You CAN trust me, Alan. Mom didn't raise me. Grandma 
did. Right." She got serious fast.

"Sorry, Tina. That's YOUR computer now. Just don't erase 
my old stuff."

Squeal. "This is MINE? But don't you need it for work?"

"Got another one in the truck for work. I can bring it 
in if I need it. What'd'ya got? Email? FaceBook?"

"Uh-huh. That I haven't checked in months. Only got to a 
computer at the library. And I didn't get to the library 
very much."

I flipped through some TV channels as she concentrated 
on the computer screen. I heard her muttering under her 
breath, "Nope. Nuh-uh. 

Nope. No way." A pause, a flurry of keystrokes, the back 
to "Nope. No way."

"You sound awfully busy," I said.

"Catching up with people I don't really want to catch up 
with, mostly. I'm answering a couple, though."

I looked at her as she went back to her task. I didn't 
stare, but I was looking at a cutie who wasn't working 
at being cute. She just was. I went back to TV. It was 
safer.

Finally she looked up. "Done!"

"That was fast. How about looking up the local school 
board? We need to get the ball rolling on getting you 
back in school."

"Okay," she said. A few more keystrokes and she passed 
me the laptop. I looked at the website.

"That's where we'll start tomorrow," I said. I looked at 
my watch. "It's about bedtime. Lemme get you a pillow 
and some sheets." I retrieved a set of sheets and a 
pillow from my bed.

"But this is YOUR pillow," she said.

"I had three. I can live with two."

She unfolded a sheet and tucked it into the sofa 
cushions, making a clean smooth surface, then positioned 
the pillow and pulled the other sheet over her. "This'll 
work," she said.

"If you get cold, I can get you a blanket. I like 
sleeping in a cold room myself."

"I'll be okay," she said, smiling. "G'nite, Alan. Thanks 
for a nice day."

"No, thank you, Tina. You're fun to hang out with."

She smiled. I made my way to the bed at the opposite end 
of the trailer, turned down the covers and crawled in. I 
didn't close the privacy curtain. The light at the other 
end of the trailer blinked out, leaving a little night 
light's soft illumination. I went to sleep.


-= Chapter Three =-

I woke up to the smell of frying bacon, an alien smell 
that my sleep-fogged mind took a few seconds to parse. I 
sat up. From my vantage in bed at one end of the trailer 
I could see all the way to the other end, and there in 
the middle, at the stove, was Tina, fiddling with a 
skillet on the stove. I guess she caught my movement.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she chirped. "I hope grits 
and bacon and eggs is good for breakfast."

"Oops," I said. "I woke up in the wrong trailer."

"Whaaaat?" she giggled.

"Do you know that there's NEVER been a meal cooked in 
the trailer that I didn't cook myself?"

"Then get used to it. I think I like to cook every now 
and then."

"Me too," I said. "But cooking for one? Kind of a drag."

"So is cooking for people who could give a shit," she 
said. "But I thought I'd try with you. Make up for the 
breakfast you didn't finish Saturday."

"Well it smells good enough. Lemme get dressed."

"I won't peek," she said.

I slid out of my pajamas and into a clean pair of pants 
and a pullover shirt, grabbed a pair of socks and headed 
toward her. I noticed the bacon was cooking to 
perfection and the grits were happily bubbling on a rear 
burner.

"How do you like your eggs?" she asked.

"Can you do "over easy"?"

"Piece of cake," she laughed. "Grandma showed me. I 
practiced."

Soon we were seated opposite one another in the little 
dining booth, eating.

"So how'd I do?"

"Very good. I figured burnt bacon and crunchy eggs."

"Why?"

"Because pretty teen girls aren't supposed to know how 
to cook," I said.

"I'm NOT pretty," she said.

"Hah. I think you are."

"Thanks," she said. "You don't have to say that, you 
know."

"You're right," I said. "But it's true, and it should 
make you happy to hear somebody say it."

"Okay. Thank you."

"I'm sorry, Tina. I didn't mean to make you 
uncomfortable. I just meant that you… Oh, never mind…" 
Inwardly I kicked myself. This was a sticky situation, 
and I was still trying to figure out how there could be 
a good outcome.

"No, I'm sorry, Alan. You were just trying to be nice. 
I'm not used to having people be nice, not the last few 
months."

"Tina," I said, getting up from my now empty plate and 
gathering hers, "if we're going to exist in this 
trailer, we need to get along."

"I know," she said. "But Alan," she continued, "you 
gotta understand how it was, living with Mom and a 
stream of trash she brought home. I mean, guys that came 
home with Mom, they'd hit on me in a second if she left 
the room. They thought if she was easy, then I was easy. 
And I'm NOT easy."

"I understand, Tina," I said. "You want coffee?"

"Yeah. Lemme watch you make it. People are particular 
about their coffee, so I didn't try." She watched as I 
threw a little drip pot together and put water on to 
boil.

"You are NOT my maid, Tina."

"Yeah, yeah…" she said. "But two people. Little trailer. 
If we don't share the work…"

"I know. Can't leave anything out of place, or it gets 
cluttered fast."

"And we're in a tight space, so we need to NOT be 
sensitive. You've known me, what this is the third day? 
I am NOT an asshole unless somebody deserves it. YOU 
don't deserve it. Therefore, please don't consider me to 
be an asshole."

"I'm SORRY!" she said, "I just REACTED, okay?"

"That's not the point, Tina. We can make this whole 
thing work, but WE need to be nice to one another. And 
that means that I don't suspect you of ulterior motives, 
and you treat me the same."

The kettle whistled, thankfully giving me a stopping 
point. I poured the water into the drip pot, took out 
two mugs, the sugar canister and a little carton of half 
and half. I poured two mugs. "Fix yours," I said. "I 
don't know how you want it."

"Two spoons of sugar, and cream like you put in yours."

"How do you know I put cream in my coffee?"

"Hah. First, you got it out today, AFTER you bought it 
yesterday. So I figured you used it. Second, you put 
some in your cup every time I saw you drink coffee the 
last two days. So I trust you to put cream in my 
coffee." She did that little smirk thing I'd noticed 
several times before.

With a clinking of spoon against cup, I handed her a 
mug. She sipped. "Perfect!"

I sat down opposite her again. "Well, good. I did 
something right."

"Oh, Alan, I don't mean to be like that. Just…"

"Just a lot of changes in three days."

"In nine months," she sighed. "And things, uh, they 
looked so bad… with Mom."

"You're past that, Tina. If we can figure this all out." 
I sipped my savory brown liquid, gazing at her face.

She shook her head, flaring her hair and letting it fall 
in place. Her hand went up and brushed it off her 
collar. "Uh, Alan, how… I mean, am I askin' too much to 
get my hair trimmed?"

"No. Is it too long?" It overlapped her collar by half 
an inch. Auburn, shiny, a little curl at the ends, it 
framed her face nicely.

"Uh, I like it shorter. Needs an inch or so cut off. 
But… I… money."

"Not a problem. I don't know how you want to do it, but 
find a place, and we'll get it done." I drained my mug 
and got up to start washing dishes.

She shoved me out of the way. "Lemme do that."

"Okay, boss," I said. I gathered clothes and started 
filling the little washer. "I'll do the laundry."

With dishes washed and stacked to dry, and a load of 
laundry in mid-cycle, we headed out of the park with the 
address of the jobsite on the GPS. It wasn't too long a 
drive through the countryside. I found what I expected, 
a site consisting of several acres, cleared from the 
surrounding woodlands, a new railroad spur and pipeline 
going in, and huge amounts of bare dirt and rock with 
curiously shaped trenches and holes and interesting 
formations of concrete and steel rising out of them. And 
a complex of temporary office trailers. In one of them 
was my new office, but today wasn't the day to look at 
it.

"So that's where you work," Tina commented.

"Yeah. They all start out as a big mess like that. In 
six months we ought to be ready to make stuff. Or at 
least I'll have the electricity on."

We drove towards the county seat. I was looking for the 
school board office. Nine AM. I guessed that government 
employees should be at work by nine. I punched up the 
phone number from the search the night before. I got a 
menu. I navigated until I got a human. "Hi, I said, "I'm 
Alan Addison. I need to talk to somebody about enrolling 
a student in your high school."

The female voice said, "Yessir. Let me connect you with 
Mister Jenkins."

Click. A male voice. "Dan Jenkins. Can I help you?"

"Yessir, Mister Jenkins. I'm Alan Addison. I have a 
student who needs to enroll. We just moved here."

"Easy enough," he said. "I'll just need the information 
from her last school. You wouldn't happen to have 
transcripts with you?"

"Nossir," I said.

"Didn't figure you did, but I thought I'd ask. We can 
get those. What grade?"

"Uh, that's the problem. Hey. We're on the road. Can I 
come by and talk to you in person?"

"Sure," he said. He gave me the address. "Just tell the 
lady at the front desk that you're here to see me."

"Looks like we'll see you in twenty minutes or so."

"Okay, Mister Addison," he said. "I'll be waiting."

"So we're going to see him?" Tina asked. "I'm not 
dressed."

"Uh, Miss Tina," I stated, "you're dressed quite 
nicely." She was. Jeans, athletic shoes, a conservative 
blouse that accented that head of hair.

"I get nervous."

"You have nothing to get nervous about. We're just 
trying to get you back in school. These are the people 
that will help us do that." I pulled into the parking 
lot and maneuvered the big pickup into a slot and we got 
out.

Walking into the office, we met the receptionist, a 
nicely dressed black lady who directed us down the hall 
after she notified Mr. Jenkins of our arrival. I knocked 
on the office door and heard a "Come in!" I ushered Tina 
in ahead of me.

"You're Mister Jenkins?" I asked, extending my hand.

He shook it. "And you're Alan Addison. And this is…" he 
asked, looking at Tina.

"This is Tina, uh, Miss Christina Johnson. She's needing 
to be in school."

"Hello, Miss Tina," he said. "You folks can sit down."

We sat.

"So what's the deal? You're her, uh.. relation?"

"None," I said. "She's, well, I don't know how to 
categorize…"

His eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly.

"No," I said. "Not like that. Like "foster home"."

"Sir," Tina interrupted, "I have no living relatives who 
aren't in jail. Mister Alan has provided me a place to 
stay and has offered to get me back in school."

"Okay," he said. "We'll leave that as it is. Mister 
Addison, what is your legal relationship? Guardian? 
Something that says you're "in loco parentis", legally 
able to sign for her? I'm assuming she's still a minor."

"Seventeen, sir," said Tina.

"Uh, yes. Minor," said Mr. Jenkins. "Sir," he said, 
looking at me, "I'm afraid that you need something to 
say that you have legal standing to make decisions 
concerning her life."

"I understand," I said.

"I DON'T!!!" hissed Tina. "Two days ago this man saved 
my life. From that, my mom and her boyfriend went to 
jail. I don't HAVE anybody else to make decisions. He's 
the one."

"I'm sorry, Miss Tina," he said. "But that's what the 
law says."

My head was full of spinning gears. They lined up and 
clicked. "Uh, Mister Jenkins, can I make a cellphone 
call? I don't want to be rude."

"No," he said. "If we can get this straightened out."

"Tina," I said. "Let me have Deputy Hurley's number."

As she opened her purse I said to Mr. Jenkins, "This guy 
might be able to help us out."

"Yeah?" he said. "Then use my phone. Here!" He turned it 
around. "Punch this button if you want to use speaker. 
Dial nine to get an outside line."

"Thanks," I said, punching buttons. I put us on the 
speaker.

"I'm really trying to help," he said.

The phone rang. I wasn't sure of success on Hurley's 
office phone, but we were surprised to hear "Sheriff's 
office. Deputy Hurley. Can I help you?"

Here goes nothing, I thought. Uh, Deputy Hurley. Alan 
Addison. From Saturday morning at the diner?"

"Hello, Mister Addison," He said. "What can I do for 
you?" His voice sounded a tad apprehensive.

"Uh. I'm here in Tennessee with Miss Tina and uh, Mister 
Jenkins of the school board. We're trying to get Tina 
back in high school."

"Oh, really?" his tone took a definite upward turn. 
"That's great! She doin' okay?"

"Yeah, so far."

"Hi, Deputy Hurley," Tina piped in.

"Hi, Miss Tina," he said. "How can I help you?"

I said, "Mr. Jenkins here says I… we need some sort of 
legal document saying that I have some standing to sign 
for her to get in school. Can you help us? I mean, you 
know the situation and all."

"I dunno exactly how that's gonna work," he said. "Tell 
you what, lemme call my uncle. He's the district judge. 
He'll know."

Mr. Jenkins injected, "How long might that take?"

Hurley came back, "I'll get off the phone with you and 
call 'im. Call you back in ten minutes. Gimme a number."

Jenkins read him off one.

"I'll call you back in ten minutes, fifteen, tops."

"Okay, thanks, man! We appreciate the help."

"Don't thank me yet," Hurley said. "I haven't done 
anything."

"We trust you," Tina said.

"'Kay. Bye, ya'll." Click.

I looked at Mr. Jenkins. "Okay, we're working on it."

"Saturday? At the diner?" He looked interested.

"You want the story?"

"Sure," he said.

"You don't mind, do you, Tina?" I asked.

"Certainly not. We lived through it."

So I told the story, aided ably by Tina. "And," I said, 
"That's how a forty year old engineer ended up with a 
teenaged girl in Tennessee."

"Okay," he said. "Let's assume that we get something 
going that lets you sign for Miss Tina." He turned to 
Tina. "What grade are you in?"

"I dropped out in the eleventh grade," Tina said. "I was 
a 3.8 student. Then I moved in with Mom when Grandma 
died. And I dropped out."

"Hmmm," he said. "That changes things a bit."

"How so?" I asked.

"We have to do a placement test. To see where she starts 
back. Pretty standard thing."

Uh, okay? When? Where?"

"We can do it here. Tomorrow if you get us something to 
fix things. Or this week."

I eyeballed the diploma on his wall. A picture of a 
happy Jenkins with a pretty, if somewhat chunky wife and 
two kids, maybe eight and ten. 

 And to go with the conservative haircut, a framed 
honorable discharge certificate from the Marines.

"Marine?" I said.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "You?"

"Army. Combat engineers."

"Chopper pilot."

"Really?!?" I said. "Gulf War?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Uh-huh. Blew one of the minefields to cut the army 
loose into Iraq."

"Small world, ain't it? I flew into Kuwait."

"Hah!" We laughed together. Tina was alternating her 
gaze between the two of us.

Jenkins saw her expression. "Sorry, Miss Tina, we're not 
ignoring you."

"Oh, don't worry about me, Mister Jenkins. I'm learning 
stuff every day. About him."

The phone rang. Jenkins answered, then punched the 
speaker button. "Okay, Deputy, uhhh, Hurley, is it? 
We're all here. So what's the good news."

Hurley's voice as tinny on the speaker. "Hi, folks! 
Hizzoner Judge Hurley, my dear uncle, says that I need 
for you two to fax me copies of your drivers' licenses 
so he can get the paperwork done up properly. I can 
overnight it to you. You both sign. Overnight it back. 
The judge signs. And it's back to you. We can get it 
done by Friday that way."

Mr. Jenkins asked, "So this is a hundred percent? No 
questions?"

"Nope," the tinny voice said. "Hundred percent."

"Great," said Mr. Jenkins.

"The fax number on your card works?" I asked.

"No," Hurley said. "Use this one. It's the judge's law 
office. And you owe me seventy five bucks. Court costs." 
He gave me a fax number. Tina was already pulling out 
her drivers' license.

"Tell your uncle that his name goes on the list of good 
people," Tina said.

"Uh, Deputy Hurley, Let me give you an address for the 
deliveries." I gave him the RV park. Made a mental note 
to make arrangements for them to watch for me and call 
when things came in.

"I'll do that, Miss Tina," Hurley said. "I'll call 'im 
back and tell 'im to expect the fax."

"Hey, Deputy Hurley," I said.

"Yeah."

"Can your uncle fax me back a copy of the document. A 
draft? So Mister Jenkins will have something in his hand 
pretty quick?"

"Yeah. I can do that."

"Great! We're gonna fax that stuff right now."

"'Kay, folks! Let me know how things go. Bye!" Click.

Mr. Jenkins sat back, bridging his fingers at his chin. 
"Well!" he exclaimed, "That looks pretty good. Lemme 
make quick call. He picked up the phone. "Hi, Janie. Dan 
Jenkins. Yeah. Look, I got a young lady who needs to do 
a grade screening for high school. Uh, yeah. She dropped 
out last year in, uh, Louisiana. Wants to start here. We 
need to determine grade placement. Can she… Uh, 
tomorrow? Yeah. Wait a sec…" He looked at us. "Tomorrow 
okay?"

Tina nodded vigorously. "Yes, fine!" I said.

He went back to the phone. "Yeah. Tomorrow. Eight-
thirty? Till, what, lunch-time? Okay… she'll be there. 
Uh… Christina Johnson. 

"'Kay. Thanks! Bye!"

"Okay," he said, turning to us. "Now, let's get these 
licenses copied and faxed." He took them and left, 
coming back in a few minutes. He handed us back our 
licenses.

I gave him a business card. "Cell number and email 
works. If you need anything. I sure do appreciate your 
help on all this." I stood up, Tina rising by my side.

He handed me his card. "Same thing goes."

"Thank you, Mister Jenkins," Tina said. "I'll be here, 
what eight-thirty? I'll be early. Okay?"

He smiled. "Good. We're looking forward to having you."

Tina was a little old to be skipping beside me, but 
there was a definite bounce in her step as we left.

"Are you nervous? I mean, TESTS!"

She shook her pretty head. "Nuh-uh. I'll do my best. 
Things will work out. Again."

"Again?" I questioned.

"Yeah," she smiled. "Things seem to have taken a good 
turn for ME since Saturday, dontcha think?"

"I suppose. That is, if you can get over your living 
arrangements."

"I'm sorry about this morning, Alan. I'm just, you 
know…"

"Don't worry, Tina. Lots of changes."

"Uh, AND a period. And I get a bit edgy. I'll try to be 
better."

"Just be you. We'll work things out."

"'Kay, babe," she said. Giggled .

And I noted the word "babe".

We took off in the truck, went to find a good clothing 
store, and bought a couple of bathing suits. I left her 
to her own devices in choosing, and her choice as a very 
conservative one-piece. I'd imagined a bikini, a not 
unpleasant set of images, to be sure, but most 
disturbing to my efforts at maintaining an almost 
fatherly distance.

That effort put us within hitting distance of lunch. 
"Where do we eat?" questioned Tina.

"I got an idea," I said. I whipped out the business card 
from my shirt pocket and dialed the number.

"School board. Dan Jenkins. Can I help you?"

"Dan Jenkins, this is Alan Addison. We're looking for a 
decent lunch meal and thought we'd ask you to come along 
and show us one. Meal's on me."

Laughter. "How far out are you?"

"About five minutes."

"I'll be standing beside the road with my hungry look…"

Tina grinned. "Do you, like, go out of your way to make 
friends?"

"Life is a lot better when people are happy to see you. 
And the day goes better when you don't go into it pissed 
off all the time."

"Hmmm. Interesting." She smiled. "You're really 
something, you know."

"Nope, just a plain ol' engineer trying to have a good 
life in the middle of all the mess."

She smiled as we pulled into the parking lot at the 
school board. She waved at Dan Jenkins and he started 
toward us. As he approached, she unbuckled her seatbelt, 
stowed the console that separated the passenger side 
from the driver side of the truck's bench seat, and slid 
beside me. She was buckling herself in the middle as Dan 
got in to occupy the passenger side. Buckled in, we 
started back out of the lot.

"So what are you looking for?" He asked.

"Tina? Are you hungry for something in particular?"

"Oh, no," she said. "Let Mister Jenkins show us."

"Okay, Dan," I said. "take us to the showplace dining 
experience."

He laughed. "Uh, well… I know a place. Family style 
food. Good for lunch. And not expensive. Turn right at 
the next light."

We were early enough to beat the lunch crowd and had a 
very nice meal presented to us.

"So where are you working," his first question came.

"That new factory going in over off the main highway? 
I'm doing the electrical."

"Engineer?" He surmised.

"Yep. I was headed this way and stopped for breakfast. 
Tina told you the story."

Tina smiled.

"So where are you living?" he asked.

I named the RV park. "For at least the next six months. 
Not quite long enough to be a resident. Too short to be 
called transient."

"Yeah," Dan said. "I suppose somebody could make a big 
deal out of your address being an RV park, but you 
explained the situation and I'm happy with it." He 
turned his attention to Tina as she worked her way 
through her meal with surprisingly good manners. "Miss 
Tina, not many dropouts go back to school like you're 
doing."

She put her fork down. "I suppose," she said. "But I 
hated to drop out, Mister Jenkins. It's just that with 
my home situation, I was out of school more than in."

"Are you thinking of college?" he asked.

"Yessir," she answered. "I was, before… and now I'm 
thinking about it again. If I have a chance."

"Good. I know the guidance counselors at the high 
school. Let's see how the tests go."

"We'll find out, won't we…" and she smiled 
enigmatically.

We continued a pleasant lunchtime conversation and then 
drove back to Dan's office and dropped him off. I 
expected Tina to slide back over to the empty passenger 
seat, but it was almost as if she hesitated before 
moving, buckling in, and lowering the console as a 
barrier between us. A sort of pickup truck chastity 
wall.

I let the GPS take us to a nearby recreational park on a 
lake and we walked around, savoring the afternoon, even 
though it was a little warm. I wiped some sweat from my 
brow. Tina saw that.

"Alan," she said. "we have brand new swimsuits and I 
know where there's a pool. Good idea?"

"Great idea! Let's go."

We drove back to the RV park. "I need to stop in at the 
office and tell them we're expecting deliveries," I 
said.

"Yeah, we are, aren't we?"

We both got down and walked into the office. The manager 
was an older lady, maybe early sixties, at the counter. 
"Hi, again," I said.

Lillian Graves was her name. She smiled. "Oh, yes. You 
came in yesterday. Uh… Alan, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She looked at Tina. "And Tina. What can I do for you 
folks?"

"I gave this address for mail. And tomorrow I'm 
expecting a Fed-Ex overnight. You have my cell number. 
Can you call me when it comes in?"

"Sure," she said. "Didn't you say you're going to be 
working around here?"

"Yes ma'am," I said. "That new plastics plant off the 
main highway."

"Oh, yes," she said. "My son in law is going to be there 
as a construction foreman."

"Great!" I said. "His name?"

"Rollie Stebbins. You can't miss him. He's taller'n you. 
'Bout three hundred pounds. Beard."

"I'll look for 'im! Tina's probably gonna do high school 
from here. Start next week, we're thinking."

"Oh, that's good. I can get the bus to stop here to get 
her in the mornings."

Tina looked at me. "Uh, okay. That's good. I was 
wondering how I was getting to school."

"And baby," Lillian said, "you're always welcome to come 
sit here with me in the afternoons while he's still at 
work. If you don't mind sitting with us old folks."

"Oh, no ma'am," she smiled. "I loved talking with my 
grandmother."

I said, "Well, we're gonna go swim for a while."

"Well, ya'll have fun, then. I'll watch for your stuff 
tomorrow," she said.

We climbed back into the truck and drove the short 
distance to the trailer. In ten minutes I was wearing a 
conservative pair of swim trunks and Tina was in a one-
piece suit that clung to sleek curves and bulged out 
over set of B-cup breasts. I tried not to stare.

"Grab us some towels," she said.

"Yes ma'am," I said, exaggerating my servitude.

"Oh, stop that. You're being a butt…"

"Walk or ride?" I asked.

She gaged the distance from the trailer to the pool. 
"Uh, with what we've been eating, I'm thinking that the 
walk is a good thing."

"Smart girl," I said.

We started walking, side by side. Could've been a dad 
and his daughter. Could've. And as far as I was 
concerned, that was what we were.The pool was bigger 
than I expected. Certainly not Olympic-sized, but plenty 
long enough for laps to be meaningful. I stripped off my 
t-shirt and slipped into the pool, letting the water 
envelope me, then ducked my head and started laps in an 
easy crawl. And got passed up by a seventeen year old 
girl.

"This isn't the way it's supposed to go," I thought to 
myself, and I kicked my effort up from "recreational" 
level towards "Showoff". And I struggled to close the 
gap. Kept trying, too, expecting her speed to be a 
fluke. Wasn't a fluke. Back and forth. Finally she 
pulled up on the edge of the pool and I hit just seconds 
behind her, and I was breathing pretty good.

"Okay," I said, between breaths. "Now tell me why Miss 
Tina is whipping my butt in the pool."

Giggle. Then a little snicker. "High school swim team. I 
had trophies."

I heaved a cleansing breath. "Now I remember. It shows. 
Very good."

She smiled at me, her hair dark with water and plastered 
against her head. "You didn't do bad yourself," she 
said. "I could feel you almost catch me. You have a 
better kick off the wall."

"You beat me. In a regulation pool, you'd have lapped me 
in five laps."

She smiled. "Nice to know that I have something on you." 
She ducked under the water to cool off. I did the same, 
then watched her leggy form exit the pool and settle 
onto a lounge beside the walk, toweling herself off. Her 
height was from those long legs, not her torso, I 
observed.

I got out and sat on the lounge beside her, drying 
myself off, then laying back. I closed my eyes to the 
late afternoon sun, but not before I saw her eye me. She 
stretched back on her own chair.

"Mmmmm, this is really great, Alan. It's so much 
different than what I was looking at Friday night. I 
think I'm in heaven."

A gentle zephyr stirred the nearby trees and cooled my 
damp body. "Ahhhh, yes, lady, I think it's great. 
Different, but great."

"Alan," she said, "how do you usually do these jobs? 
What do you do? Work, I know, but after work?"

"That's where I part ways with a lot of guys, Tina. Lots 
of construction people party hard. The bars and clubs 
around here are going to make a fortune when this thing 
is being built. And there's be a lot of women chased and 
a few caught, and all. But that's not my thing."

"So what DO you do?"

"I find the library, or the internet, and if there's 
some good concerts, I go to those, and if I find friends 
that share my desire not to go out drinking and 
cavorting then I might spend the evenings with friends."

"No women?" she asked.

"Not for the sake of the standard things that men chase 
women for. Like I told you the other day, I don't do 
casual sex and I am not going to get serious with 
somebody who's not on the same wavelength that I am. 
There's too much pain in trying to fit the wrong pieces 
of a puzzle together."

"But…"

"But that's too serious a part of my life to compromise. 
Been there. It hurts. So I quit."

"Uh… I guess that's a better approach than Mom's… she 
kept tryin' and tryin' and then it was just for, I 
guess, the physical thing… and it seemed like a bad way 
to go through life." She sighed.

"Some people go their whole lives like that and they 
don't suffer consequences, but every one of those one-
nighters, or short things, there's two people involved, 
and what doesn't bother one can leave a mark on the 
other."

"Yeah," she said.

"Or you end up with two people who just want to use each 
other, and… I don't know. I thought I was connected in 
my marriage, but apparently she wasn't. And when it hurt 
me like that, I decided I never wanted to do that to 
another person."

"Me neither. I saw Mom and it looked like a train wreck. 
People bent and broken all over the place."

"Life sucks, sometimes…"

"But then," she smiled as I looked at her, "there are 
days like this. Look!" She pointed upward to a hawk 
circling high overhead. "That's freedom."

"Yes it is," I said. "And he can do that when his 
belly's full and the babies are fed. If he's a good, 
successful hawk, he gets to circle in the afternoon 
skies."

We chatted for a few more minutes then I watched her 
form do a little knifing dive off in the deep end of the 
pool and I did a backflip in to join her. This time I 
knew better than to let her surprise me, but she still 
was nothing I could catch. Finally we got out again and 
walked back. Passing a couple of the other trailers, we 
smiled and greeted them as we walked.

Inside the trailer, Tina grabbed her night-clothes and 
hit the shower first. "Won't take long. I just need to 
rinse," she said. And true to her word, she was out and 
drying her hair.

I did a similar move, but had a few more minutes 
scraping the hair off my face. A splash of aftershave 
left my face tingly. I exited the tiny bathroom to a 
sleekly coiffed Tina, eyes blue and twinkling.

"Gosh, you smell good again," she smiled.

I sat in my recliner and she lounged on the sofa and we 
watched TV until about eight when she picked up her 
laptop. "Just want to see if I got any responses to my 
email," she said. Ten minutes later, she turned the 
computer off. "That's that," she said. "I sent email 
last night to see who wanted to keep in touch. No 
responses. I guess those friends gave up."

"I'm sorry, Tina."

"Oh, it's okay, Alan. You know, this is almost a new 
life. I mean, I had that life with Grandma, then she 
died, and I had that life with Mom, and it was horrible, 
and now that's over, and I have this new life, and 
you've been good to me, and I'm gonna go back to school 
and meet new friends and start over. Not many people get 
to do that."

"I know." I was parsing the "meet new friends" 
statement. I knew that she was seventeen and the world 
was there for her and a new high school was rich ground 
for relationships and friends and boyfriends and, I 
hated to think, prospective mates. I pushed that out of 
my mind. 

 Hard. "Uh, do you play cards?" I asked.

"What kind of cards? Like rummy?"

"Yeah. Can you play rummy?"

"Grandma and I used to play several times a week. I like 
it. You got cards?"

And we sat at the table and played rummy. And it wasn't 
easy. She was no slouch and we each won a game and I got 
a lucky draw to beat her on the tie-breaking third game. 
And it was bedtime.

She made her bed and I retreated to mine and we went to 
sleep.

 
-= Chapter Four =-

The accursed alarm clock went off as expected at six-
thirty. We got up and dressed and because of her 
appointment for testing, we hit a local diner for 
breakfast of pancakes and coffee.

At eight fifteen she was walking in the door of the 
school board offices. There was a lady expecting her, 
and I left her with my business card for her to call me 
if she needed me.

"Oh, don't worry," said the lady. "These tests are 
timed, but she's the only one taking them today, so 
she'll be finished at eleven-thirty."

"Good luck, Tina," I said.

She smiled. And kissed me on the cheek. I was still 
standing there when she followed the lady up the hall.

I left, a thousand thoughts going through my head, and 
drove to the new jobsite, checked in the front gate and 
introduced myself to the people already on site. A few 
faces and names were familiar to me, including the 
engineering manager who'd asked for me by name and 
reputation. I looked at my new office, bare, with a desk 
and a large table to spread out prints and drawings, and 
a few chairs for the inevitable meetings and 
conferences. We talked about the progress so far, and 
the target dates for my equipment to begin arriving, and 
I looked at the schedule of construction, and we laughed 
at a few old tales, and I saw it was ten-thirty, and my 
cell phone rang.

I looked at the display. Unfamiliar number. I answered. 
Familiar voice. Tina.

"Hi, Alan," she said. "I'm finished."

"I thought the lady said eleven-thirty."

"Yeah, I know. But that's if there were others who need 
the whole time… but I just did what I could and then 
stopped and we went to the next one. So I'm finished."

"Okay, sweetie," I said. "I'm out at the plant. I'm 
leaving now."

"Okay. Uh… I see Mister Dan. I'm gonna go see if he has 
time to talk. See ya in a bit."

"I gotta go," I told the crew. "Had a kid taking a test 
this morning. She's finished. I'll be here bright and 
early Monday." And I left. 

Thirty minutes later I walked into the school board 
offices. The receptionist spotted me immediately.

"She's in Mr. Jenkins' office. Go right in."

I walked in, spotting Tina sitting in a chair smiling. 
Mr. Jenkins… "Hi, Dan," I said.

"Hi, Alan. I'm being surprised today."

I looked at Tina. She was smiling. "How so?"

"She took the placement tests. They're timed tests, 
Alan. Usually nobody finishes."

And I looked at Tina. She was smiling. And it was a 
self-assured little smirk of a smile.

Dan said, "Tina finished. I, uh, we, the lady who gives 
the tests is scoring them right now. If you want to grab 
lunch, she'll be finished by the time we get back."

"Sure," I said. "Come on, punkin," I told Tina.

We all walked out to the truck and got in, Tina taking 
the center seat again. I know Dan noticed that she had 
to move the console out of the way. But she buckled in 
rather more to my side than his, and she was STILL 
smiling.

This time Dan directed us to a barbecue joint. "I don't 
go here often during work," he said, "because they laugh 
when I come back with sauce on my tie."

We could see why. The barbecue was good, but eating ribs 
was not for the fastidious. We cleaned up as best we 
could. Dan was laughing. 

"They'll know where we've been."

Back at the office, Dan walked in to see a score sheet 
on his desk. "Wow," he said. One word. "Wow."

He looked at us. "Just a sec," he said, punching the 
phone. "Uh, hey, Louise. Yeah. I got'em. Thanks for 
doing it this fast. I know. I was curious too. Yeah. 
I'll tell 'er. Thanks!" He turned his attention to us. 
Tina was sitting next to me.

"Well," I said, "Back in the eleventh grade?"

"Yeah, right." His tone was happy sarcasm.

Tina was still smiling. I wasn't. I was trying to 
interpret Dan's demeanor. "So what's the deal?" I looked 
at Tina. "You did your best, didn't you? You didn't just 
quit?"

"No, Alan. I did my very best."

Dan said, "Uh, Alan, she's twelfth grade. And I'm 
recommending advanced placement in all her subjects. 
That way she gets college credits before she graduates 
high school."

"You're kidding!"

"I'm NOT kidding. These scores are the best I've ever 
seen. Or Mrs. Conner. She does our testing for us. Oh, 
and I got a faxed draft of your guardianship this 
morning. So we're operating like you can sign her 
papers."

"That's good," I said. "When do we have to give you a 
decision about the advanced placement stuff? And when 
can she start classes? Monday?"

"Monday will be fine. And we can set her schedule if you 
decide. I'll call the guidance counselor at the high 
school, but she can start Monday." He smiled back at 
Tina. "You're a pleasant surprise." To me he said, "Did 
you know any of this?"

"Uh… You know I've known her since Saturday. I knew she 
was bright, just talking with her, and she told me about 
the 3.8 GPA, but… how was I supposed to know?"

"Well now we know. Can you go to the school Friday and 
get with them about the schedule and stuff? Since she's 
a new admit, you need to go with her, Alan."

"Okay. Not a problem."

Tina was still smiling. "Mister Dan," she said. "Thank 
you for taking care of us."

"We're the ones who are getting lucky, young lady, if 
YOU work to your potential. Just one question. What kept 
you from getting a 4.0?"

"I missed some tests when my grandma got sick. Mom 
pulled me from that school and moved me and I couldn't 
make them up."

"Oh, okay. Uh, Alan, can you sign this release so we can 
get her transcripts from her old school?"

I signed. We left, headed to the RV park. She got in the 
truck giggling.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"That lady. Mrs. Conner. I took the first test and 
finished and she told me to check my work, that I 
must've missed some pages. And I 

showed her the answer sheet. And she asked me if I 
understood the questions. It was funny. She just didn't 
believe that I did the work."

"You've surprised a bunch of people today. I'm one of 
them."

"Really?"

"I mean, I knew you were smart. It shows in the way you 
talk about things. But now… it's like your swimming. 
Another surprise."

"I'm glad I surprise you in good ways."

"Me too," I said. "And I thought of something while I 
was out. Let's go get you a cellphone. I don't want you 
without a way to get hold of me or whoever…"

"My own phone?" Squeal!

"Yeah. I think it's a necessity, with you in school and 
me at work and schedules change and things happen. And I 
don't have to tell you how you need to take care of it."

"Nobody will touch it, Alan," she said seriously.

That was a minor stop. And the day ended in what would 
become routine: a walk, a swim, a dinner, TV, games, and 
bed. Her at her end. Me at mine.

The Friday meeting at the high school with the guidance 
counselor was interesting. These things were a lot more 
fun when you walked in with a winning hand, and Tina was 
an academic winning hand. "Yessir," she said. "I DO want 
the advanced placement classes."

"Which ones?" he asked. "Physics? Trig? English? Social 
studies?"

"All of 'em," she smiled.

I smiled too.

Our last weekend before we both started acceding to 
fixed schedules. We abandoned the trailer and drove a 
hundred and fifty miles to take in a concert and spend 
Friday and Saturday nights in a hotel with a full-sized 
shower and two queen-sized beds. The concert was a very 
workmanlike performance of Mozart chamber pieces by the 
local university's strings and several times during the 
performance I stole glances at Tina, a young perfection 
in an austere little black dress, tastefully simple 
pumps and tiny gemmed studs in her ears. Her hair was 
auburn perfection. And her eyes were closed and she was 
smiling as the notes soared over our heads.

It was with reluctance that we headed home, talking 
about the museums and the concert and the sights and the 
food.

***

Monday morning came. We did a bit more hurried breakfast 
of grits and eggs and bacon and I headed out to the 
project and she cleaned up then went to wait for the 
bus.

My day went just as chaotically as I expected for Day 
One. By four-thirty I was ready to leave and I did so. I 
stopped by the front office and found Tina and Lillian 
talking. Tina had a book and notebook open on the 
counter.

Lillian handed me the Fed-Ex package that contained the 
final versions of the documents that gave me legal place 
in Tina's life, the power normally attributed to parent.

"She's been talking and working since she got off the 
bus," Lillian said. "It's nice to have young company."

"You don't mind her chatter?"

"Hah!" Lillian answered. "Half her schoolwork I don't 
begin to understand, but she talks about everything. 
It's mighty nice."

Tina poked at her trig book. "You might have to give me 
a hand on some of this. I think I understand, but I want 
to be sure."

"Okay, little girl," I said. "Swim. Food. Homework?"

"A plan," she laughed.

We bid Lillian goodbye and went to change. Our swim was 
abbreviated, and we hit a local eatery for supper, and 
then homework and showers.

Somewhere during the evening I asked about her bus ride.

"Not exactly my favorite thing. Rowdy kids. Long. Bumpy. 
I wish I could do schoolwork, but that's pretty much 
impossible," she said.

"Then let me ask you this," I said. "I think I know the 
answer, but I want YOU to say it. Can I trust you with a 
car? I mean, school and home on school days, and I know 
exactly where you go and who you're with at all times?"

Squeal! "A car?"

"It makes sense to me. That way you get a little more 
time before and after school. You're carrying a heavy 
load. You need the time. And you can run errands for us 
when I have to work. Makes my job easier."

"You're gonna give me a car?"

I got serious. After all, I'd known her a week. I knew 
her to be a serious and unusual specimen of teenaged 
girl, but… "No, the car will be in my name. You're still 
a minor. And I have title. So if it disappears from my 
control, it's stolen. Like if you were to take off for 
parts unknown…"

"Alan! I would NEVER do that! I don't have ANYTHING 
without YOU!"

"Baby," I said, using the term as if she were my child, 
"I believe you. But I also know that strange ideas come 
across people's minds. Just saying."

"You needn't worry. Really."

She was unusually chipper when she whipped my butt at 
cards before we went to bed that night.

Another day. This time I left work a tad early and 
picked Tina up at the park and headed to a used car 
dealer. I'd driven by earlier and saw what I had in 
mind, a little Japanese sub-compact, reliable, safe, and 
with good resale value. Practical, that's me. Tina 
looked good behind the wheel. With stars in her eyes. 
I'd already warned my insurance agent and the car dealer 
faxed him the information.

That activity cost us the day's swim. I wasn't sure that 
I could ever wipe the grin off Tina's face. I gave her a 
gas card, planning on calling those people for a second 
card on the account to replace it. Sitting in a 
restaurant for supper, as in "I'm driving us to supper, 
Alan!" she looked at me.

"I know you're just dying to give me the speech, huh?"

"What speech? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right," she grinned. "Let's see. Obey traffic 
laws. Don't speed. Don't take risks. Pay attention to 
the road. Nobody else drives this car but me and you. No 
illegal substances. No alcohol. Don't leave it unlocked. 
Keep my keys with me."

"Okay, just do all that."

She smiled. "Alan, this is something Grandma would've 
done if she was still alive. It's wonderful . I never 
expected…"

"Just trying to make our lives better, babe," I said.

We got home. Did the homework thing. The shower thing. A 
round of rummy, 510 to 480, my favor. And to bed. Her at 
her end. Me at mine. 

 The six o'clock alarm ruled the morning. Wednesday.

Thursday. We started our swim. She was unusually quiet. 
"What's up, Tina," I asked. "Trouble?"

"Well," she said, "not really. But I don't know how to 
ask this."

"Ask what?"

"It's a new school, Alan. And I'm making friends. And 
they want to get together Friday evening. They ASKED me 
if I'd come with them."

This was a day I knew would come. At this point, for all 
intents and purposes, she was like a daughter. And I was 
a dad whose teen daughter wanted to go out. She was 
seventeen, and when it came right down to it, I had only 
the most tenuous of holds on her. "So what's the plan?"

"It's not a big deal," she said. "One of the girls is 
getting some movies, and we're gonna meet at her house 
and watch 'em."

"Are her parents going to be there?"

"Yes. She seems like a nice girl. She's in my AP English 
class."

"Then I guess I should let you go. You're seventeen. You 
know the ropes."

"Thank you, Alan," she said.

We swam our laps and then showered and went to supper. A 
part of me was crying inside and I couldn't tell if it 
was the "daddy's little girl" part or the "there goes 
your heart" part or if those were both the same or what. 
I did my best to keep conversation light.

We did homework, and I noticed that she didn't need 
quite the help of two days before. She beat me by a 
hundred and fifty points in rummy. Friday. I got tied up 
over a botched shipment and was still arguing on the 
phone as four o'clock passed. I pulled into the park at 
five and saw Tina's car at the trailer. Knowing she was 
likely doing date prep, I knocked before entering.

"Come in, silly," she said, giggling.

I wanted that to be MY giggle. I really did. "I thought 
you were getting ready for the big date," I said.

"It's NOT a date," she said. "There's a bunch of us."

"No special boy?" I really didn't want to hear "yes".

"Well," there's this guy. He's in my AP science. Cute. 
Smart. And my friend Susan says he likes me…"

Inside I died a little. "Just go and have a good time. 
I'd like you to be home at a responsible hour. Say, 
before midnight. And if you have any trouble, call me. I 
mean it. That's what I'm here for."

"I'll be careful, Alan. And I planned on being home by 
eleven. She was standing in the door, ready to leave. 
"Bye! I'll see you later!"

And I let her leave. I rewarded my restraint by treating 
myself to a tasteless TV dinner and then showered and 
stretched out to watch TV a book in my lap. I didn't 
want to close my eyes for fear of seeing images I didn't 
want to see. Time crept. It was Friday, and I doubt that 
I ever felt that lonely on a Friday in my life.

And that's why I was surprised when I heard the crunch 
of a car pulling into the gravel parking space at a bit 
past eight. And the door opened and a Tina walked in 
with a hugely exasperated expression plastered on her 
face.

Silently she stalked to the sofa and plopped down. Her 
face turned to me and I saw tears marring her 
complexion. "SHIT!!!" she said. 

"Fresh start, my butt!!!"

"What's wrong, Tina?"

"People LIE! That's what!"

"Uh..how?"

"Oh, just peachy. No parents at home. And a cooler full 
of beer. And Mister "I think he likes you" is like, "Uh, 
let's go someplace in your car. I got some weed…" and 
he's also got enough hands for a roomful of clocks and 
he thinks he's all IT an' everything. Wouldn't take "NO" 
for an answer. He's gonna walk funny tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, babe," I said.

She was on the verge of tears. "I expected different. I 
hoped it would be different. But I'm the new girl and 
therefore I'm lucky that anybody pays attention to me 
an' I live in a trailer park an'… I'm pissed."

"Uh…"

"Okay, sorry… I am seriously upset."

"Better."

Her eyes turned shyly in my direction and the barest 
beginning of a smile appeared. "Okay. So what does Alan 
say about crap for friends?"

"Move on. People can be depended on to be people. And 
the behavior you describe is, unfortunately, pretty 
common among your age group. I won't say your peers, 
because apparently you don't have very many peers."

"So?!?"

"So life goes on. Even when things don't go your way. 
You get to keep being you. Uh… why's the guy gonna walk 
funny?"

"I tried "NO". I tried pushing hands away. And he 
wrapped me up in his arms and tried to kiss me and he 
had his hands all over, so I reached down and grabbed. 
Hard. And yanked. He was on the floor crying when I 
left. And Susan was looking at me funny. And I came 
home."

"You had a rough evening. How about hot chocolate for a 
change." I paused. "On the floor crying?!?! Whatta 
girl!"

"I'm NOT going to be a slut, Alan. NOT. My first time is 
going to be with WHO I want, WHEN I want." She paused.

Now that bunch of gears in my mind was really 
clattering. Her first time? She hadn't HAD a first time 
yet? "Sorry, babe," I said. "Hot chocolate is instant 
tonight. Remind me to buy some cocoa next time we do 
grocery shopping."

She accepted the steaming mug and sipped loudly. 
"Mmmmmm" she said, then "Dammit!"

Her cellphone rang. She looked at the display. "That's 
Susan," she said. "Shhhh!" She answered the call. "Uh, 
hi, Susan. Yes, I AM mad. I expected a nice evening of 
watching movies and talking and stuff." Pause. "No, I 
DON'T drink." Pause. "No, I have NEVER tried pot." 
Pause. "Uh… No, I'm NOT a prude. I know stuff about SEX 
that will curl YOUR hair. And I think LOVE is better." 
Pause. "Oh. How is he? Walks funny? Good!!! He should. 
He needs to learn the meaning of NO!" Pause. "No, Susan, 
I don't HATE you. I don't HATE him. 

But HE'S not getting within six feet of me. EVER. And if 
you want to be my friend, then YOU need to be straight 
with me." Pause. "No. I don't like being blind-sided." 
Pause. "No. If you want us to do something together, 
tell me what's going down, up front. And give ME the 
chance to say no." Pause. "Yeah. Okay. Yeah, I'll still 
talk to you." Pause. "Reputation? If **I** get a 
reputation, it's NOT gonna be because I let Brad Jamison 
put his hands on my tits. Or anything else." Pause. 
"Yeah. Okay. See you Monday." Pause. "Yeah, you can 
call. I'll talk."

She looked at me. "Now my chocolate's cold."

"I can fix that," I said, taking her mug to the 
microwave. "That was quite a speech."

"Sounds like one of those "Alan" speeches, huh?"

"You have to know that all at once I'm sorry you didn't 
have a good time and I am relieved you're okay and I'm 
proud that you can say no… peer pressure is a hard thing 
to get past."

The microwaved chimed. I handed her back her mug. "Oh, 
no, Alan. I've pretty much "peered" at enough with Mom." 
She took a sip. 

"Mmmmmm. What are we watching?"

"Good movie coming on in half an hour, I said. I was 
gonna stay up late and watch it by myself."

"You're not by yourself now," she said.

We watched the movie and at eleven thirty she changed 
into her PJ's. "Bedtime?"

"Yeah. Let's do an "us" day tomorrow. If you don't have 
plans." I waited.

"My plans pretty much got erased."

She made her bed as I rinsed our mugs. I started toward 
my end of the trailer.

"Wait, Alan," she said.

"What?" I stopped and looked at her.

She walked up to me and tiptoed and kissed me on the 
cheek. "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked.

"For being decent and understanding. And good to me."

"You're one spectacular young lady," I said. It's easy 
being nice to you." And I went to my bed.

From the other end of the trailer I heard, "g'nite, 
babe!"

And I went to sleep. Somewhere around two o'clock I 
started to turn over and ran into an unexpected 
obstacle. A seventeen year old girl. 

She was lying on top of the covers and I was underneath 
them and I decided that chastity was being observed, so 
I carefully rolled the other way. An hour later I awoke 
again, this time to feel a pajama-clad form sliding up 
against me.

"Tina," I whispered, not wanting to startle her.

"Alan… I…"

"Tina, I… you're…"

"I'm… the sofa hurts my back… and I got cold laying on 
top of the blankets."

"Okay… "

"I'm cold." She slid closer. I didn't feel "cold". I 
felt heat.

"Okay," I said. "Come here." And I let my arms encircle 
her. And I smelled the sweet trace of perfume on her, 
and I breathed and she snuggled into me and said, 
"mmmmmm". And we really DID go back to sleep.

And that made for a very interesting wake up. I woke up 
first and looked at the lump in the bed beside me. Her 
hair tossed crazily in her sleep and ended up wreathing 
her face, that pretty face, asleep, looking cherubic in 
its innocence. Innocence! That clanked in my head. 

She'd told her friend that she was a virgin.

I started to get out of the bed and I felt a hand on my 
arm. "Noooo, babe," she said. "stay here."

"I'd love to, babe, but I gotta go to the bathroom."

"Okaaay," she whined.

"I'll be back," I said. "If that's what you want."

"Mmmm-hmmm" she said.

I was up the hall, into the bathroom and back out. I 
eased under the covers and she scooted towards me. "Are 
you sure this is…"

"I want to cuddle."

It was my turn. "Okaaaay…"

Our bodies met. For some minutes I held her, her face 
pressed against my chest, my cheek against the top of 
her head. She moved. Her face turned towards mine. And 
things went horribly wrong. Or right. Because she kissed 
me.

I let her slide out of my arms and sat up. "God, no, 
Tina…"

"Alan…" she said, putting her hand on my arm. "What's 
wrong?"

"Tina… I… we… No…"

"What?" she asked. "D'you know that I didn't go to sleep 
last night? Not until I got in your bed?"

"No…" I answered.

"I didn't. I just lay there thinking about things, and 
how a guy my age thought that the first time he got me 
in a room alone that I belonged to HIM, and he's 
supposed to be a GOOD one, and I thought, "well, dummy, 
there's a guy thirty feet away that never so much as 
made a move, that treated me like a princess and an 
equal and a valuable person and SAVED me at the risk of 
his own life, all at once, and I said, "Stupid girl, 
exactly what ARE you looking for?". So I crawled in your 
bed."

"B-but… Tina, I didn't, I mean, I… I told Deputy Hurley, 
I didn't take you to turn into a sex toy…"

"I am NOT a sex toy. You don't listen, Alan. You treat 
me like I want to be treated. If you were only my dad, 
I'd have a perfect dad. 

I'd be so lucky. But you're NOT my dad. You're… well, I 
don't know what you are. I know what I want you to be…"

I knew what I was… speechless. "uh…"

"Alan. Do you love me? For real? Not saying it to make 
me feel good?"

This one was easy. "Yes, Tina, I love you."

"Then tell me, Mister Engineer, if you love me, don't 
you think it might be possible that I love you?" She had 
an awfully serious look on her face.

"Precious, I can believe that. But then what? I mean…"

She knelt beside me. "Then this…" and she kissed me. Her 
lips were hot and soft and as they met mine this time 
mine parted involuntarily. 

The tip of my tongue brushed her lips softly and they 
parted and her own tongue gently met mine. "Mmmmmmm…." 
escaped her and resonated throughout my being. My arms 
enveloped her and she molded into me, separated from me 
by only a couple of layers of cotton pajamas.

Our lips finally parted. Blood was pounding in my ears. 
"Alan," she said, "Tell me you love me again."

"Heaven help me, darling," I said. "I love you, Tina." I 
kissed her this time. Finally we stopped. Her eyes were 
bright and blue and I could lose myself in them, and 
there was a satisfied smile on her lips.

"That's all I want to know. I love you. You love me. I 
can stop worrying." And she got up. I had a raging hard-
on that I wasn't supposed to have, but I'd just been 
kissing a beautiful, nubile, intelligent, funny 
seventeen year old girl. And I wasn't dead. But I wasn't 
ruled by my baser urges, either. I got up too.

"So now what?" I asked.

She pushed up against me. "All things in due time, 
babe," she said, kissing me lightly. "Mmm-kay?"

"Okay," I said. I ran my hands down her sides. The 
embrace was invigorating. And I know she felt the 
erection I had. Still in each other's arms, her face 
turned to me. "In due time."

So Saturday morning we drove out for breakfast, then a 
ride through the countryside. Away from the home area, 
she pushed the console out of the way and slid beside 
me, wrapping my bicep with her hands, putting her chin 
on my shoulder.

"You're mine? " she asked.

"I'm yours," I said. "That's kind of scary, babe," I 
said.

"Why's it scary? I love you?"

"Because you're seventeen and I'm forty and…"

"And it makes no difference at all. I thought about 
that. Is love supposed to be about physical things? Like 
MY looks or YOUR looks? Or is it supposed to be that the 
real YOU and the real ME, personalities, likes, 
dislikes, dreams, thoughts, all of US fits. That US is 
right…"

"You're gonna make a habit of this, aren't you?"

"A habit of what?"

"Being all smart and right all the time…"

She kissed me, giggling. "Just let us be US…"

"Okay, smart girl," I said. "You just bought yourself a 
forty year old engineer."

"And you got yourself a… well, you got ME… and whether 
I'm seventeen or the reincarnation of Cleopatra, Queen 
of the Nile. And I am YOURS…"

She looked thoughtful. "Uh, babe… can we do a hotel 
tonight? And don't get two beds… Never again."

"But, babe… we didn't pack…"

"I know for a fact, Alan Addison, that you keep an 
emergency bag behind your seat with a change of 
underwear and a shaving kit. She smiled demurely. And we 
won't need pajamas. Not tonight."

"Babe, didn't you say last night that you wanted your 
first time to be…"

She interrupted, "Don't feed me my own speech, dearest. 
I said, and I quote (I loved it when she got academic) 
"Who I want and when I want." And, babe, the "who" is 
YOU and the "when" is before this day ends."

"But, babe… you only get to do that once."

"You know," she said, sitting back, "I love you. We 
share this together…"

"Okay. Jackson is an hour up the road. Here's my phone. 
Look up either this hotel or that one. And get us a 
place…"

A very businesslike Tina did the reservations and an 
hour later we checked in with my emergency bag for 
luggage. And went straight to the room. And locked the 
door. And she pushed me back against it and almost 
climbed up me, kissing. And I gave up. I loved it. I 
loved her.  And the girl I loved was tugging my shirt 
out of my pants…

I ran my fingers through that short, sassy hair and 
fastened my lips to the side of her neck, getting 
squeals and wiggles in response. She pulled free and 
grabbed my hand and we went toward the bed.

Her sloppy, floppy Saturday blouse was loose and I ran 
my hands under it, feeling her flesh for the first time. 
"Mmmmm… ohhhh, baby…" and she giggled. "You don't know…"

I turned and sat on the bed, drawing her toward me. 
"What don't I know?"

"That I've been wanting to do this… for you to touch me… 
but I tried, too, Alan. I tried telling myself that you 
were a nice guy who really just wanted to take care of 
me and it wasn't like that and I shouldn't push for 
anything else…"

I laughed. "Then we were both doing the same thing…"

"I know," she giggled. She started to unbutton her 
blouse. I helped.

"Uh, Alan… I never… before…"

"But you're unbuttoning…"

"I knowwww," she said. "But I'm… uh… bashful…"

"Then do it YOUR way."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay then…" and she 
stopped unbuttoning and pulled the shirt off over her 
head, leaving me staring at her bra. She reached behind 
her.

"No, I'll do that, babe," and I reached around her and 
unhooked two hooks. Her bra lid off her shoulders. Two 
perfect titties…

"Your shirt," she said. I peeled my shirt off. Her hands 
went to my chest, her fingers clutching my chest hair. 
"God, I've wanted to do this every day we went to the 
pool," she said. She pushed me back on the bed and 
straddled me. We both still had jeans on at this point. 

More giggles. "D'you KNOW what you did to me this 
morning when I hugged you and felt that THING pressing 
against me?"

"No. What?"

"Beast! She laughed. "D'you think you're the only one 
that gets aroused? I had to go swab out my… uh… THERE!" 
Giggle.

"I'm glad. I thought I was going to explode. And you 
just went "la-di-dah…" What were you thinking?"

"That we needed to talk," she smiled. "'Cuz I'm only 
doing this once. And you, mister, you better be 
forever…"

"Forever," I repeated. "Uh… little darling, you're too 
damned smart to be confused as to what that means…"

Naked chest to sweet, firm titties, we kissed. "I know 
exactly what it means." Another giggle. "There's that 
thing again." She sat back, still straddling me. "It's 
time I get to see it."

"I'm not going to ask if you're sure again."

"Good!" Giggle. She got up. I stood, started to unbuckle 
my belt. "Nuh-uh," she said. "MY present. I get to 
unwrap it." She worked my belt loose, then unsnapped my 
jeans and unzipped me. I was hard. Diamond-cutter hard. 
It tented out my drawers. She slid my jeans down my 
thighs. I wiggled my legs and they fell to my feet. I 
stepped out of them. Blue eyes turned up to me and her 
mouth formed a smile. 

"This is supposed to be fun, right?"

All I could do was nod. Her fingers hooked the elastic 
of my drawers and in one move pulled them out and down 
over my dick. Keeping her eyes fixed on it, she slid my 
drawers down my legs. I stepped out of them too.

"So this is the thing…"

It was. All six inches of absolutely normal. And I died 
when her fingers wrapped around it.

"Uh, babe," she said, looking up at me standing in front 
of her, "Am I supposed to think this is, uh.. like… 
beautiful?"

"I don't know, babe. I never thought about it. I'd 
settle for you not finding it too disgusting to 
touch.,."

Her grin was joy to behold. "Oh, yeah, it's disgusting. 
Like this."

Every ounce of strength I had, I used to keep my knees 
from buckling when she stuck the head in her mouth. She 
heard me suck in a sharp breath. "I… I didn't hurt you, 
did I?"

"Oh, god, no, sweetness. Surprised, yes. Hurt? No."

"I've heard about that for years. Saw yours. Knew that 
I'd like it, with YOU." She stood up. She eyed me 
questioningly. "You want?" she touched her jeans.

"Oh, yes," I said. I knelt before her and unbuttoned her 
jeans, taking time to run my hands over that perfectly 
framed ass. "Perfect," I said.

"Glad YOU think so, baby," she said.

I slid them down, helping them as they clung to her 
thighs, then down past her shapely calves. She raised 
first her left foot, then her right, stepping out of her 
jeans, leaving her clad in a pair of powder-blue hip-
hugger panties, her rounded mons, beckoning. Yes, it WAS 
beckoning. So I did the thing it needed. I planted a 
kiss on it. It was her turn to suck in a breath. 
"Ahhhhhhhh."

"Did I hurt you?" I asked.

Giggle again. "No, but I'm gonna hurt YOU if you don't 
pull my panties off and do that again."

I slid the panties off her plumpish rounded ass and 
down. She stepped out of them and I kissed her mons 
again through a fine down of brown pubic hair. Hands 
held the back of my head. I eased a little lower and I 
let my tongue tease the beginning of her slit. "Nnnnnnn, 
baby…."  I stood up and our bodies touched naked for the 
first time.

She shook her head.

"D'you know," I said, "how wonderfully adorable you are. 
Right down to that little head shake."

"I need a haircut," she said. "But then you might think 
it's too short."

"Nuh-uh," I said. "I like your neck." And I attacked it, 
turning her into a wiggly, giggly mess in my arms.

She pushed me backward onto the bed. "Now," she said, 
"this is my first time, and I know it's supposed to hurt 
some. So I'm gonna be on top, okay?"

All I could do was nod assent. She straddled me and for 
the first time in her life her pussy met a dick. My 
untold riches lay in the fact that the dick was mine. 
The wet lips of her pussy wrapped the shaft of my dick. 
"Ahhhhh," she said. "THAT is GOOD!" She smiled at me and 
slid back and forth a few times, letting her clitty ride 
in contact with the underside of my hard and wonderfully 
trapped dick.

While she was enjoying that I was enjoying the beauty of 
her body, tracing sweet curves with my hands, moving up 
from her delightful ass, up her sides, around to cup 
twin handfuls of firm, warm flesh, letting my thumbs 
tease pink strawberry nipples, circling the quarter-
sized areoles.

"You're killing me, baby… and I'm loving the death…" she 
sighed. Finally she raised her hips and let my dick 
rise. Lubrication was complete. Her juices far exceeded 
my own, and between us, we were ready. Her hand went 
between her thighs and she guided me with fingertips, 
lining the head of my dick with her waiting hole. Her 
face showed concentration. She bit her bottom lip, 
pressing down, the head pushing against her cherry. Her 
eyes went full open, she took a deep breath, and 
pressed. She went "Mmmph!" and I was in.

"We're… You're in ME, Alan."

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She nodded. And answered by rising, letting me slide out 
of her a little, then she sat back down, pushing me all 
the way back inside. Her back arched. I put my hands on 
her hips and she started slow oscillations, back and 
forth, sitting back to angle me so her clitty was again 
in contact with the dick inside her. I was trying hard 
to keep from coming right then but her hips were, her 
pussy was, working against my best intentions.

"Oh, baby," she moaned. I curled forward to suck one of 
her titties into my mouth. My tongue played on her 
nipple. "Babe… tooo. Much… I… I… ohhhhh." Thrust. "I'm… 
I'm… doinnnnnnnn'….. it…" the last syllable was a hiss. 
Another thrust was all I could stand, and I squirted. 
Hard. Deep… Her eyes blinked open. "Is that… you're… Oh, 
god… I feel it… again…" she breathed. "Another… 
babyyyyy."

She fell forward into my arms and our lips sealed 
together. I ran my hands over her ass. It wouldn't be 
still, and active muscles in her pussy teased me through 
orgasm to hardness and she started humping me as we 
kissed. I held her in my arms and rolled her over onto 
her back, still inside her. Her hips pushed me deeper 
into her. I started plunging into her again, rolling her 
almost immediate second orgasm into yet another for me.

After the fire subsided for the second time, I rolled 
her back on top of me.

Finally we regained the power of speech. "Darling," she 
said, caressing my face, " everyone told me the first 
time was gonna hurt and wouldn't be much fun. I had fun. 
Did you have fun?"

"I'm returning from a parallel universe, little girl," I 
said.

She kissed me lightly. I looked into those blue eyes. 
"Tina, will you marry me?"

Giggle. "You ask me to marry you with that THING stuck 
in me? Uh…" her hips wiggled and I fell out, soft, 
spent, with a soft plop. "Okay, it's out. Now ask me."

"Tina, will you marry me?"

"Yes, Alan, I will." She got a semi-serious look. "IN 
fact, in SOME societies, we're married NOW."

"Good enough for me," I said. "But when you're old 
enough… we'll make it official."

"Old enough? I'm seventeen…"

"That's old enough for you to get married if your parent 
signs for you. But at eighteen, you won't need a 
signature."

"What about you? You're my guardian."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure that I can't sign for you to marry 
me…"

"So we can like, live in sin for a year…"

"I wouldn't call it sin, exactly," I said. "After all, I 
am not going to be with anyone else for the rest of my 
life. What about you?"

"You're it, babe. One. Only. Forever." And that 
statement was sealed with a kiss.

 
-= Chapter Five =-

Of many things is a life built. Together. Things like 
finding out that we loved the same music. Food. 
Lifestyle. We didn't leave the room until we left for 
home the next day. Our marriage day dinner was a 
delivery pizza and a liter of coke.

We took our first shower together in that room, 
luxuriating in endless hot water and plenty of room to 
move and love. And dried off, we were back in bed. I 
forgot I ever knew a female form before Tina. Each touch 
of my fingers, lips, tongue, dick to her was a 
discovery.

And since I was her first, she had pure fun. A sharp 
mind, insatiable curiosity, and new-found sexuality made 
wonderful experience, especially coupled with her sense 
of humor. Her giggles weren't intimidation, they were 
just manifestations of the joy we experienced together, 
and I found myself giggling as we explored one another.

A happy discovery for both of us was that my Tina loved 
oral sex. From her first quick suck Saturday, she 
decided to do more after we showered, and she needed 
little coaching. All I had to do was limit the 
enthusiasm of her bites and how hard she squeezed and 
suck and bit my balls. I was in heaven watching that 
auburn-wreathed head working me over, especially when 
those blue eyes looked up, her lips smiling around my 
shaft. And a throaty giggle.

She pushed my head down from where I was working over 
her tits with my lips and teeth and tongue, urging me 
into her pussy, and I drank her, 

her juices sweet and salty and musky as I showed her the 
joys of multiple orgasms with my tongue and lips.

Sunday morning. Satiated. Sore. Aside from it being her 
first time, I know I'd come at least six times and we 
lost count of hers. And her pussy was as tender as my 
dick. And we checked out and hit a fast food drive-thru 
for lunch masquerading as breakfast. And she stayed 
plastered to my side all the way home.

Arriving back at the park, we entered the trailer. She 
picked up the linens from the sofa and turned to me 
smiling. "We won't be needing these again."

"Nope," I said. "I just started living again, baby..."

She smiled. "God, I'm sore. But there's our bed. And we 
need to initiate it…"

I started stripping. She beat me to nudity. She was on 
her hands and knees in our bed when I crawled in. She 
ducked her head, trapping my dick in her mouth for a 
languorous suck. Then she smiled at me. "That thing is 
made for me to suck on, Alan."

I returned the favor, kissing her lips, her tits, and 
then tonguing her sweet pussy. Moisture was flowing when 
I entered her and those muscular legs wrapped around me, 
pulling me in. In a matter of minutes we were wrapped in 
each other's arms, shuddering to orgasm. This time when 
I finally pulled out, I was kneeling in the bed and she 
was lying before me.

My dick was soft and dripping with the results of our 
joy and she surprised me by swiveling around in bed and 
taking my sopping dick in her mouth. "Mmmmmmm, baby, we 
taste good together. Wanna do me?"

I couldn't tell her no. Her clear juices were mixed with 
the translucent white of my own semen. And my lips and 
tongue working to empty her sopping hole brought her 
another orgasm. And lying in my arms, giggling.

"Are you happy, little girl?" I asked.

"Deliriously happy. Ecstatically happy." She smiled. 
"Are you?"

"I started living when you came into my life."

We lay in bed naked for an hour, too satiated for much 
more than occasional touches and caresses. Until Tina 
remembered her new friend. 

Warm lips closed over soft dick. "mmmmm," she said. Then 
a giggle. "Stop me if I do this too much," she said.

"Don't be selfish," I told her. "Turn around here and 
let me do you."

"Is that sixty-nine? I've heard…"

As a beautiful, deep pink, abused pussy opened in front 
of me, I said, "Yes, this is sixty nine, baby girl." I 
got another giggle before her lips closed around my dick 
and my own mouth formed to suck the juices from her 
pussy.

Finally we got out of bed long enough to shower and fix 
a quick meal, and then back in bed and more exploration 
and experimentation by Tina. I managed to set the alarm 
clock before we disintegrated into naked, drained, and 
sound asleep bodies.

The six o'clock alarm was still the boss, though, but 
instead of careful avoiding or averting eyes and trying 
to not bump each other, we took advantage of the 
efficiency of allowing nudity and touching, and we 
submitted each other to fondles and caresses. And it's a 
wonderful thing to leave for work with the warm feeling 
of hungry lips on your dick as you walk out the door.

Monday was the first day of school following a lot of 
things for Tina. By the time she walked into the halls, 
the news of her Friday night fiasco was coursing through 
the student body.

My own day at work was more like routine to me, the 
standard package of hurdles I'd come to expect from 
fifteen years of project work. I knew where the most 
likely screw-ups would occur, and I and my minions dove 
right into those. And Rome not being built in a day? 
Neither are plastics plants, and there was no good 
reason for me to extend my presence past normal hours, 
so at four PM I was climbing in the truck and twenty 
minutes later I pulled into the park.

Tina's little car was parked at the park office and I 
walked in to find her sitting with an open book and 
notebook, scribbling. She stopped when I entered. "Hi, 
babe!" she said.

Mizz Lillian smiled. "She's happier today than she was 
Friday," she said.

"Yes ma'am," I said. "Two weeks past disaster and she 
keeps getting happier and happier."

"It sure looks that way," Lillian said.

Tina was stuffing books into her backpack. "I guess we 
need to go do a swim, huh?" she asked.

"Don't you think that would feel good?"

"I do," she said. She turned to Mizz Lillian. "Thanks 
for putting up with me, Mizz Lillian!"

"Oh, dear girl, thank YOU for visiting. I appreciate the 
company."

We drove to the trailer and went inside to change. 
Changing was, well, would have been, a lot faster since 
we didn't have to work around exposing ourselves to one 
another. Except now we added naked embraces and teasing 
and caressing to the process. But we DID get out to go 
swim, striding through the park to the pool with towels 
in hand, pausing to greet the regulars who'd been in the 
park since before our arrival. Mid-week, the pool was 
deserted, afternoon swims not being a priority of the 
retired set who customarily stayed over the weekdays.

Tina was first splash, followed closely by me and 
despite the urges forming in my head by watching her 
butt in a bathing suit, we did our normal regiment of a 
few laps, finally ending side by side, hanging on the 
pool wall. Closer together than last week. As a matter 
of fact, a female hand under the water insinuated itself 
up the leg of my baggy trunks and gave a squeeze that 
brought me to instant erection.

"Stop that!" I whispered, half meaning it.

"Why? Bashful?" she giggled.

"Not in the least, little girl," I said. "I just don't 
wish to outrage the population."

"Uh… oh, okay… I understand…"

"I'm sure you do, babe. And believe me, I'd love nothing 
better than to parade through this park right now, 
holding your hand or with my arm around you. But we've 
sort of created an image…"

"Oh, yeah," she sighed. And gave me another squeeze. Her 
expression, biting her bottom lip, smiling, eyes 
twinkling… "Let's get out." She bounced out of the pool 
and sat on a lounge, toweling off.

I followed her. We were still alone, but I saw an older 
couple coming up the road, hand in hand.

"I wanna be like them, babe," she said.

"Me too," I said. "In due time. It's just that when we 
started in here, we were NOT a couple, and…"

"But I'm seventeen. I'm legal. I can do what I want with 
who I want…"

I sighed. She was right. Legally. "I know that, babe. 
But what's legal and what decent people think is right 
are quite often two different things."

"And we like being around decent people. Or we end up 
like Mom and her friends."

"Right. So we need to proceed gently. Let people get 
used to seeing us together all the time, and let them 
get used to thinking, "Hey! She's nice. He's nice." And 
then "You know, they almost make a cute couple" and then 
"Well, there's Alan 'n' Tina. Kind of odd, but they're 
happy." And when we get there, we'll have all but a few 
people accepting what WE already know. That a forty year 
old guy and a seventeen year old girl can be together 
because they LOVE one another, not because somebody's 
using somebody…"

"That makes sense. Uh… let's go back to the trailer, 
okay? I got homework to finish."

"Okay," I said. We got up and let the older couple in 
the gate as we left. Walking up the road, she took my 
hand. "Oh, you're going to make this difficult, aren't 
you?" I said.

And got a giggle in return.

Back in the trailer, and sad that only one of us could 
fit in the shower at a time. She was out first, sitting 
with her blow-dryer as I soaped quickly and rinsed off. 
I was shaving as the phone rang. My phone. Hers had a 
different ring. "Can you get that, babe?" I called. I 
was scraping whiskers off my face and listening.

"Oh, hi, Deputy Hurley. Uh… yeah, we got all that taken 
care of. Exactly what we needed. Yessir, I'm back in 
high school. Yessir. It's great! I wish we had a bigger 
place, but this is working good enough."

Since I didn't have to bother with dressing for modesty, 
I stepped out of the bathroom naked.

She said, "Here's Alan. And thank you SO much, okay?"

I took the phone. "Hi, Bill. I guess Tina caught you 
up?"

"Yeah, she's back in school?" he asked.

"Yeah. Damnedest thing. Since she was a dropout, they 
had to give her tests to see what grade to put her in."

"And…"

"And Miss Tina is in college level classes."

"Really? Great," he said.

"Did you get your check?" he'd said that fees and cost 
for filing our legal documents as seventy-five dollars. 
I'd mailed him a check.

"Hey, I was kidding…"

"Then put it in the coffee kitty. Extra donuts…"

"Hey! That's a stereotype." Laughing.

"Uh… any news on the disposition of our "friends"?"

"Momma's still in jail here. Couldn't post bail. So's 
the boyfriend, pending a hearing for extradition. They 
ain't getting' out, Alan. And if Momma was to get out, 
she has no legal standing for you an' Tina, what with 
Tina being seventeen."

"That's good to know. She's… Tina's good people."

"Uh… we did a check on her. Nothing. Clean record. Not 
even a traffic ticket."

"I know. We talked. She likes to talk." The little girl 
who "Liked to talk" was laying on the sofa with her head 
in my lap, her cheek pressed against the lump of my 
dick.

"Well," Bill continued, "She's legal, and she's out of 
my jurisdiction, and I was surprised when you called ME 
back to get the paperwork to put her in school. And now 
she's IN school, so I'm not surprised any more."

"I quit being surprised, myself…" I said.

"Okay, Alan, I'll let you go. But hey! Keep in touch, 
okay? And if you're ever back through Armpit, Louisiana, 
stop in and say hi!"

"Okay, Bill. And thanks again. Here's Tina." I handed 
the phone to Tina. "Say bye to Deputy Hurley."

"Bye, Deputy Hurley. Yeah, you've done VERY good. Uh-
huh. We'll take care of each other. Yeah. Bye!" and she 
disconnected. She rolled over onto her stomach and 
smiled. "He said to take good care of you." Her head 
bobbed downward. Several seconds of slurping and sucking 
ensued.

I dragged her naked, complaining "Why'd you make me 
stop????" body up and sat her in my lap, kissing her.

"See, babe? That's a nice person. I wouldn't want to 
have him think less of you."

She kissed me. "I know, babe," she said. "but in a few 
months…"

"A year. When we can say "Mr. & Mrs. Addison"."

"You're serious about marrying me?" Squeal.

"I am. Are you?"

Long kiss. "Most definitely."

My hands roamed freely over her sleek body, lingering at 
places where a touch produced a shiver or an "Mmmmmm."

"Let's not play cards tonight, babe. I need to finish 
homework. And then…" she smiled, blue eyes twinkling 
below auburn, burnished bangs.

"You're the boss," I said.

"I'm NOT the boss. I was thinking about this in study 
hall today. I own Part A. You own Part B. But we BOTH 
own what happens when we put 'em together. Giggle."

"I never thought about it like that. But I sure do like 
your Part A."

"And your Part B feels soooo good in so many ways." She 
smirked. "Stop that. I NEED to do the homework first, 
and I'm gonna be sitting in a puddle if we keep this 
up."

"Do your homework, little brown-haired girl!" I laughed.

She tossed her head, her hair bouncing. She knew that 
this drove me wild. "Okay. But I need to make an 
appointment to get a trim." She giggled. "And I may dye 
it orange." Her eyes flashed. "Like whats'er name in 
that movie…"

"Don't tease an old man, lover…" I laughed.

"Well, maybe not the "orange" thing. Mizz Lillian knows 
a hair salon. They'll do me Saturday morning."

"Sounds like a plan. Wanna do another "both us in the 
same shower" weekend somewhere?"

"Mmmm-hmmm… and we can hold hands in public."

"Yeah. Do your homework."

She smiled and went through the exercises. English and 
social studies she critiqued. We talked about the ideas 
behind the science. And numbers were numbers. I was on 
the laptop checking private email. One needed an answer. 
My sister.

"Dear Sis," I wrote. "I haven't heard from you in a 
month. What gives? Are they charging postage in 
Louisiana for email?"

"A lot of water has passed under the bridge since we 
talked last." Sis and I were not the "talk on the phone 
every day" siblings.

I continued typing, describing briefly the incident at 
the diner and the friends I found, including the one 
currently doing homework wearing only panties. I didn't 
mention that detail.

"And Sis," I wrote, "This may come as a shock, but what 
started out as a friendship has become more. We are 
getting married as soon as she turns eighteen. I hope 
this doesn't disturb you too much. I've been alone 
entirely too long, and genius females who like classical 
music are entirely rare creatures."

I signed it, "Love, big brother" and hit "send". I 
surmised a few days before I got an answer back. 
Apparently I need to rethink my "surmise" routines 
because a minute and a half later my cellphone rang. The 
sound shocked Tina and she put her pen down.

I punched the "answer" button. And got ready. "Hi, Sis," 
I said.

I held the phone away from my ear. "You did WHAT?!!?! 
Have you lost your ever-lovin' mind?!?! SEVENTEEN?!?! 
You old goat. You have nieces that age!"

Tina could hear the voice. She slid beside me and I held 
the phone so it was speaking to both our ears.

"Tina," I said, "Say hi to your new sister-in-law, babe. 
She sounds very excited at the news. You remember? Her 
name is Elise."

"Hi, Elise," chirped Tina in her cheeriest voice. Elise 
was still sputtering. Tina took it upon herself to fill 
the conversational void. 

"He's wonderful and I love him very much. We are so 
alike in so many ways…"

"Babe… uh, okay, Tina, he's been beat up about women for 
a long time. He's MY brother. Don't you dare hurt him. I 
have a garden. I can HIDE bodies…"

Tina's laughter pealed. "Oh, Elise, he was RIGHT. You're 
just like 'im…"

Elise feigned outrage. "He told you THAT!?!?"

"Uh-huh," Tina said. "And that you're his only sister 
and he loves and respects you. And you'd understand…"

"I understand… might take a while to fit my mind around 
it."

It was my turn to speak. "Well, Sis, get your mind 
around it. This is the real thing."

"Okay… if you say so. Send me pictures…"

Tina's turn. "We'll take some pictures. Huh, babe? 
Giggle."

"Not THOSE pictures, babe…" I laughed.

Elise's outrage was mostly still feigned. "Well, okay, 
brother," she said. "ya'll need to come down and visit. 
Let me know when, and I'll get your house all aired 
out."

"Okay, sis. We'll talk to you later. My fiancée has to 
finish her homework…" I laughed.

"Gahhhh," said Elise.

"Bye, Sis," Tina said. I ended the call. "well," she 
laughed, that was rather painless."

"If I can get my eardrum back in its socket," I laughed.

Giggle. "Eardrums don't have sockets, silly."

"And I have a perfect mate who knows that," I said. 
"Finish your homework!"

"Beast!" she laughed. Ten minutes later she closed the 
books and stuffed her backpack. She looked at me, 
smiling and said one word: "Bed!"

She stood for me to remove her panties. My reward for 
performing this task was permission to kiss her on her 
"Muffin", the name we'd given her pubic mound. We rolled 
backward onto the bed together. Her fingers found me 
erect and a couple of slow, squeezing strokes and she 
giggled. "You're leaking." Her fingers came to her lips 
and she made a show of licking them. Then she kissed me.

"Babe," she said, "you know how many times you've made 
me come with your mouth?"

"I hadn't been keeping count. A bunch?"

"Mmmm-hmmm," she purred. "and we've, you know, licked 
each other clean after we came together, so I have a 
good idea of what you taste like."

"yeah, and you're delicious."

"We taste good together. And you've made me come so hard 
with your mouth. You…"

"I like your taste, babe. And the way you wiggle when 
you're coming."

Giggle. "I'm glad. I love that. But… I want to make YOU 
come. With MY mouth…"

I smiled. "And that's something you think you have to 
ask permission for?"

Her bright-eyed face nodded. Smiling.

"Babe, I belong to you. As long as we both enjoy, 
anything, okay?'

"Then scoot up so I can lay between your legs."

I scooted, arranging pillows behind me. "You're the 
sexiest creature in the universe. I want to see you…"

Her eyes belied her love. And lust. "Then watch, babe. I 
need to learn how to do this."

Her head eased forward and she sucked my dick's head 
into her mouth, her tongue prodding and swirling. 
"Mmmmmm," she moaned. Muffled, "Good?" she asked with me 
still in her mouth.

"God, yes…" my hands stroked her hair.

She pulled back, releasing me, and rubbed her hair 
against my balls and thighs. Smiled. "I wanna bite, 
Alan. Can I? Does that feel good?"

"I think it does, babe… nobody…"

"But… it's MADE for my mouth…"

I sighed. "That's YOUR mouth, baby. Apparently everyone 
doesn't…"

Petulant. "But I want to bite. How hard?"

"I think I can show you."

"How can you show me?"

"I can bite you…"

That thought got interpreted in that pretty head 
quickly. "Oh, like… I LOVE when you bite my titties…"

"That's how hard. Just like Sunday. And be careful. The 
head's a lot more sensitive."

Giggle. "That's what this ridge if for. So I'll know 
where to keep my teeth!" The feeling of my dick 
disappearing between those lips was exquisite. As was 
the feeling as he white teeth playfully caught me behind 
my coronal ridge.

"Ohhhhh, god, yesssss," I hissed.

I felt the giggle as well as heard it. My dick popped 
out. "That's better than I imagined it." Her hand 
continued to work up and down the shaft. "So if a guy's 
doin' himself, this is what he does, huh?" She looked at 
me, smiling, questioning…

"Yeah."

"Show me."

I replaced her hand with mine and began the old, 
familiar stroking. It wasn't as exciting when I did it, 
even though twenty-eight years of practice made me sure 
of what I was doing. "Like that," I said.

"Uh, yeah. You're holding the skin and sliding it up and 
down."

I passed my hand over the head. "And the head…"

She interrupted, "…is made for my mouth. And you REACT…" 
She stopped smiling. "One of Mom's guys did that in 
front of me one time. I guess her thought I'd get turned 
on and want his toothless ass… Mom walked in and 
hollered at 'im."

"So he didn't…"

"No," she interrupted. Smile came back with little sucks 
on the head of my dick. "I've never seen it. But babe, 
when you're IN me, I can FEEL it." Giggle. "And I want 
to feel it in my mouth. And taste what I made YOU do."

And a brilliant, if inexperienced mind put hand and 
mouth together in concert. And teeth. Wonderful teeth. 
Stopped. Licked my balls. 

Giggle. "I love how they're all wrinkly. And they move 
when I kiss 'em."

"Just be careful…"

"Yeah. I know. Excruciating pain. Neat trick." She 
smiled wickedly. "Funny how just a little change in 
pressure can make it feel good…" 

her lips closed over one ball and she gently sucked and 
washed with her tongue. "That okay?"

I shivered.

"Wanna make my guy happy while I'm enjoying him." She 
moved up from my scrotum to my dick, nibbling and 
sucking, then tilted it toward her mouth and sucked me 
in, her lips, tongue and teeth working magic on the 
first two inches as her hand, a couple of fingers of it, 
jacked my shaft in time with lips an teeth and tongue.

I was… pressure was rising fast. I stroked that sassy 
hair lovingly, causing her to turn her face to me, 
smiling wickedly with my dick in her mouth.

"Mmmmmm" and then a giggle. "Something's happening," and 
then she was back on me.

"I'm… uhhhh…. Nnnnghhhhh! I'm comingggggg!" I shook 
uncontrollably as the first huge spurt erupted.

"Mmmmphh!" she reacted. I felt her swallow and suck. 
Second spurt. Swallow. Third, fourth spurts. Swallow. 
Then she sucked the remainder of my coming into her 
mouth. I went from pulsating orgasm to hot continuous 
ecstasy and she kept sucking.

I realized that I was curled up with my hands on her 
head, not holding her, just touching this girl who was 
pushing me to the stars. I relaxed, falling backward. 
The mattress shook. Tina looked up. Grinning. A droplet 
of my semen had escaped her mouth. Her pink tongue 
slipped out, collecting it.

My breathing returned to normal. I knew that if I never 
received oral sex again in my life, I could die knowing 
that I'd been DONE.

Giggle. "I get the idea that what I did worked…"

"Like using a steamroller to crack walnuts, babe," I 
said.

She crawled up my torso, folding her arms on my chest 
and resting her chin in her hands, smiling.

I had to ask. "Did you…"

She interrupted, "I LOVED it." Her finger wiped an 
imaginary drop. "Every last drop." She kissed me, lips 
closed.

"Nuh-uh," I said, putting a hand behind her head, 
pulling her to me. "Real kiss." Our lips met and parted, 
our tongues wrestling, dancing together. Yes, I detected 
a taste. Me. In the mouth of the girl who loved me so 
wondrously just a minute before.

Our kiss broke. She smiled for me. "Did it REALLY feel 
good? I mean, it's my first time… you're the only one… 
only one there will ever be, babe…"

"Babe, it was… beyond my imagination. What you are is 
what I want. Forever."

"You know, Alan, I wondered. I guess girls do that. I 
mean, I know you were married, and I know you've been 
with other women, too. And I wonder how… I mean, am I as 
good?"

I kissed her gently. "Baby. Precious Tina. The first 
time you kissed me, history disappeared. Making love 
with you, it was like I'd never touched a woman before."

"But Alan," she asked, "Us… I..."

"Let's put it this way, cutie. Before, I had fantasies. 
Even when I was married, like "If she'd do THIS or if we 
did it like THAT or it's good but it could be better." 
And then there's you. And I find out that my most vivid 
imagination couldn't compare with reality with you." I 
kissed her for punctuation.

"Mmmmm, she purred. "I know I LIKE what we do, babe… and 
it's part of love. The way we LOVE each other."

"That's the way it's supposed to be, sweetie," I said. 
"I hope it stays that way."

"Stop worryin', Alan," she said.

"I do worry, Tina. You're in school with a few hundred 
people your age, and in a week you already had a date 
with a cute guy… and it probably wouldn't have taken 
that long…"

"Yeah… a guy. I thought "smart" meant decent and 
civilized. I was wrong. And the rest of them? besides, 
after news got around, people travelled from one end of 
school to the other to get a peek of ol' lover boy 
walkin' funny. And he's whinin' that all he tried to do 
was kiss me. So it'll be a while before one of 'em's 
brave enough to ask me out. And I'm, well, I'm playin' 
things differently."

"Differently?" I asked.

Six inches from my face, she grinned. "Yeah. Next one 
asks, I'm tellin''im I have a boyfriend. And I do, you 
know…" she kissed me on the nose. "Right?"

"Right!" and I kissed her back. I wanted to kiss her for 
each of the freckles that spread across her cheeks and 
nose. That's a task for another day…

"What'd your friend Susan have to say?" I asked.

"Susan was sorry. At least she says… and she told people 
that Jeffy's lyin' that he'd bragged to HER boyfriend 
that he was gonna be doin' me before the night was 
over…" She giggled.

"That's funny?" I asked.

"Yeah. Supposedly he told his parents that he got kicked 
playin' soccer, that's why he's walkin' funny. And when 
I saw him in class, he stayed on the other side of the 
room. Didn't say nothin'." She smiled. "You know, I'm 
really glad the whole thing happened, just the way it 
did."

"You're glad?" I mused.

"Yeah. If it had gone the way it was supposed to go, I 
don't think I'd have had the same thoughts I had Friday 
night. At least not for a while. And I would have missed 
a chunk of the life we have together." Her smile was 
sublime. "And besides, now people are going to have to 
deal with me as a person who's different and not to be 
played with. And by the way, calculus? I aced the first 
quiz."


-= Chapter Six =-

Okay, we got into a new routine. No, not an "I'm bored" 
routine, but rather an "I can't wait to get home to 
connect with my soulmate" routine. Yes, the afternoon 
swims were part of the routine. The exercise kept us 
both fit, and at forty, it would have been too easy to 
spread out, as many of my contemporaries and co-workers 
had done. Besides, I had a hundred and twenty pounds of 
incentive.

Another part of the routine was the homework. I took an 
active part in Tina's education as I noted it usually 
took her longer to write her assignments than it did to 
derive answers.

Meals were another routine. Many mornings found us 
eating cold cereal in the trailer, and other mornings we 
ended up at the diner up the road in the direction of my 
project. We usually sat in a corner table. The 
waitresses knew us as regulars, and on the odd day, we 
were joined by one or more of my co-workers. Everybody 
was indeed getting used to Alan ''n' Tina.

Our weekends… Sometimes we took off on Friday. Sometimes 
we waited until Saturday morning, but most weekends we 
were on the road, laughing, talking, and searching parks 
and concerts and culture. And we found it. On the advice 
of Mizz Lillian, we went to a bluegrass festival and 
Tina found pure, acoustic, folk music to be something 
that meshed with our love of classical music, and heaven 
knows, Tennessee has a lot of bluegrass.

But Mizz Lillian. She saw the Alan 'n' Tina thing real 
quick. "You two look like you belong together," she'd 
told Tina one afternoon.

Tina related that conversation to me that evening, and 
the next day, when I stopped in to retrieve my sweetie, 
she was sitting in her chair in her customary spot. 
There was nobody else in the place, me, Tina, Mizz 
Lillian. Almost two months of visiting every day had me 
and Mizz Lillian as more than passing acquaintances. 
We'd shared gossip and laughter about some of the 
stories from her years of managing this RV park, and I 
guess she thought we were at a point where she could get 
a little personal with us.

I guess that's why I didn't hit the floor when she 
suggested that just maybe, Tina and I were a couple in 
the more traditional sense. "So the truth, Alan Addison, 
and don't bullshit an old lady. I have eyes, you know…"

Tina's the one who answered. "Yes ma'am. We are. And the 
day I turn eighteen, I'm marrying him!"

Lillian laughed. "Good for you, darlin'," she said. She 
looked at me. "Alan, I know what you were thinkin' but 
this is Tennessee and we've got a history of girls 
marryin' young. Even to older men. I've seen stranger 
stuff than you an' her. At least she ain't pregnant. 

And you have a good job. An' she's in school. That's a 
lot of "right". And I can't see much wrong." She grinned 
at me. "But if I was you, I'd buy her a ring."

That got a giggle from Tina. And got me to thinking. 
Tina and I headed out the door to the trailer and drove 
our separate cars. Ring? If she wore a ring and I wore a 
ring, we'd have US happy, but what would it be to others 
around us?

She'd been thinking, too, when we walked in the trailer. 
The door locked behind her, she was already stripping, 
preparatory to putting on her bathing suit for our 
afternoon swim. She got down to the "completely naked" 
part and stopped, waiting for me to get to the same 
state.

The naked embrace was wonderful. As were the kisses and 
the fondles. They didn't last, though, as we knew that 
sunlight was waning. Back out the door we went, towels 
in hand, holding hands. Alan 'n' Tina. "So what do YOU 
think? The ring thing?"

I dunno, babe. Part of me says "yeah, right NOW! But 
then I think about what we talked about the other day, 
about having to live in a world where the people we want 
to accept us might need a little time to get used to 
Alan 'n' Tina."

"The ring's already around my heart, Alan. I'd love to 
wear your ring. And I will. But right now, in school? 
That might open up a lot of trouble." She smiled.

"I know," I said. "Just as long as you know how I feel…"

"But," she said, "what about when we're NOT at work or 
at school?" Cool blue eyes. "Our weekends 'n' stuff…"

"You know," I said, laughing, "there you go being right 
again…"

"You know you were thinking it, too…" Giggle. "I mean, 
you want to…"

I laughed. "That's our goal for the weekend. Go find us 
rings…"

We continued our walk to the pool, waving, saying hello 
to the regulars, laughing. It was indeed Alan 'n' Tina. 
At the pool, the towels went on two adjacent lunges and 
we splashed in, making our laps for the evening, ending 
up our exercise cooling off, hanging on the side of the 
pool. After a cool-down we moved to the lounges and were 
joined by a sixty-something year old couple from Ohio. 
They were regulars, having been at the park when Tina 
and I moved in. We chatted about work (mine) and 
retirement (theirs) and school (Tina's and their 
grandkid's) for a while and then they slipped into the 
pool and Tina and I headed back to the trailer for 
homework and pasta carbonara.

The homework was just about over when the carbonara hit 
the table. We ate, talking about her school experiences. 
"I'm old news," she announced. "Susan's still my friend, 
and there're a few kids I talk to, but now people just 
walk past me in the hall instead of stopping and 
staring."

"Yeah," I said, "that's pretty much human nature, babe. 
Something new and exciting will attract their attention. 
Another shiny object. 

And life's back to normal."

"Oh, I love this normal," she cooed. "I love being 
loved." Giggled, too. "And I love our life together. How 
about a game of rummy?"

And that was usually preparatory to me getting a good 
workout at cards. I flipped through the steno pad we 
used to keep score and over that last month we were tied 
for winning the most games. And it was, after we became 
intimate, a bedtime thing. She was dressed in one of my 
t-shirts and panties, and I was in a t-shirt and 
drawers, and I don't know if that get-up did anything to 
her, but her in a simple t-shirt, those delightful 
nipples poking against the cotton fabric were visual 
candy. We played to five hundred points, a number she 
reached about a hundred points ahead of me. I put the 
cards and scorepad up and she turned back the covers on 
OUR bed.

In five minutes we were naked in the soft glow of a 
little night light, enough light to make out her face, 
her eyebrows, the way her hair framed her face, the soft 
curve of her waist. Loving her was pure joy, sometimes 
soft and tender, sometimes fast, hard, wet, but always 
exciting. Tonight loving Tina was the perfect cap to the 
day, easing from consciousness to ecstasy to blissful 
sleep. And wonderful sleep it was, rolling over in the 
night, regaining semi-consciousness to find a sweet, 
soft female form in the dark bed beside me.

Equally priceless was being disturbed in my sleep, 
waking to find that Tina had shifted positions and it 
was her arm or her leg pulling me closer to her.

We had the morning routine almost down pat, combining 
getting dressed with preparing and eating breakfast, and 
heading to separate destinations. To be factual, it 
wasn't uncommon for us to drive to a neighborhood 
restaurant and eat breakfast there; joined quite often 
by people I worked with. And some mornings my Tina was 
just a little bit wet between her legs from the remnants 
of early morning lovemaking.

That weekend we disappeared from the RV park to travel 
to the big city nearest us, and after an afternoon at 
the mall and a visit to a jewelry store, we left with a 
simple gold band on each of our ring fingers, her arm 
wrapping mine.

Chamber music. We stayed on the mailing list for the 
local university's orchestra and didn't miss a 
performance. Apparently there were several others in the 
same boat because when we walked into the hall, me 
wearing my "respectable engineer" suit, Tina wearing yet 
another understated dress that served well to accentuate 
her natural features. Most of these people had never 
seen either of us without the other, and we knew several 
of them by name. After the concert we accepted an 
invitation to a late night visit to a restaurant for a 
light meal. 

The other couple sipped wine, but I explained Tina's age 
and she and I had soft drinks.

"But you can have wine, if you want, Alan," she cooed. 
"I can drive."

"Sugar," said Sandra, the wife of our friendly couple, 
"I'm sorry! We ordered wine without thinking! We didn't 
mean to be rude!"

"Oh. Mizz Sandra, that's alright!" smiled Tina. "Alan 
and I aren't the conventional couple. You couldn't 
know…"

Brad, the husband, contributed, "Yeah, Tina, we're 
sorry. Not trying' to be a snob or anything, here…" to 
me, he said, "Alan, I'm sorry, buddy."

"No," I said. "nothing to worry about. We enjoyed the 
concert sitting with ya'll, and this is perfect. I mane, 
a few appetizers, chat among friends… perfect evening."

Sandra said, "Well ya'll have to come over for a visit 
one day. We could do a barbecue on Saturday and then go 
to a concert."

Tina answered for both of us. "That would be wonderful, 
Mizz Sandra…"

"Please, sugar, don't call me Mizz. Makes me feel so 
old…" Sandra smiled.

"Okay, Sandra," Tina said. "We can certainly do that. 
It's good to get away from the park for the weekend."

"Park?" Brad asked.

"Yeah, let me explain our circumstances." And I told him 
about how I worked these projects and added that Tina 
was in the local high school. And the part about being 
several hundred miles from home. "Fourteen hours," I 
said.

"If you have to drive," Brad said. "Pity you can't fly."

"Oh, I can fly. I just don't have a plane. And renting 
one, well, they got real expensive since I got my 
license."

Brad grinned. He was an attorney. Mostly family and 
business law. But he was also a lover of the music and 
he and his wife were bright, bubbly people who you just 
knew were going to be fun to be around.

"Alan," he said, " I might be able to do a couple of 
people a favor."

"What's that?" I asked.

"I just finished up the disposition of an old guy's 
property. He passed away, left a bunch of money stuff to 
his kids, stock portfolio, house, land, you know… And an 
airplane. Cessna 182. His kids don't want to mess with 
it. They want it sold, in their words "NOW!". I advised 
them that a more timely approach might net them a bunch 
more money, but you know how some people are."

"Cessna 182's a nice practical plane," I said, "but a 
good one's way into six figures."

"That's the fun part," Brad said. "The old guy loved to 
fly. Treated that plane like his personal friend. Tip-
top shape, all that, the plane, that is, and then he 
died. Aneurism took him. Bang! He'd been flying the 
weekend before, so I'm thinking it's current. I flew 
with him a time or two and he loved it. Said he wanted 
to sell it when the time comes, as he put it, "To 
somebody who'd love it like he did."

"Wow," I said. "I've often thought about it. But I just 
never pulled the trigger." I looked at Tina, who was 
looking at me, her chin propped up in her hand. "When 
can we see it?"

"We can meet tomorrow." To his wife he said, "Hon, reach 
into that Grant's Tomb that you call a purse and get me 
something to write on."

Sandra slapped a small note pad and a piece of paper on 
the table simultaneously with Tina's notebook.

"Ah, Alan, you're lost, you know," laughed Brad. "You're 
in the hands of a practical woman." He took Tina's 
notebook, whipped a fountain pen from his pocket and 
scribbled information in it. "You guys show up here 
tomorrow. What? After lunch? One o'clock?"

"Sounds good," I said.

Tina's turn. "Alan, you never stop amazing me. You're 
thinking about buying a plane?"

"No, babe," I said. "We're LOOKING at a plane. There's a 
lot more to buying one. Inspections and stuff."

Brad added, "Alan seems to know what he's doing, Tina. 
Let's see."

The remainder of the evening was spent in convivial 
conversation. At a bit after ten PM we all said our 
goodbyes in the parking lot and Tina and I headed to a 
slightly upscale hotel for the night.

We walked into the room knowing that the king-sized bed, 
and more important, the HUGE (in relation to the tiny 
closet in my travel trailer) shower was a happy 
indulgence for us. We indulged in the unlimited hot 
water and the space for two happy people to turn a 
sanitary function into an exercise in erotic 
stimulation. And pure fun.

After a half an hour shower, we finally got out and 
bumped into each other happily as she dried her hair and 
I shaved.

"Who gets to smell good tonight?" I asked. We'd had a 
discussion of her perfume being overwhelmed by my 
aftershave. That conversation had collapsed with me 
saying, "So what YOU'RE saying is that in any situation, 
ONE of us is supposed to smell like a goat…" Which 
brought us to tonight's decision.

"Me," she said. "I'm gonna put a dot of it in two 
places, and you get to find them."

"That's a happy task, cutie," I said, entirely meaning 
it.

To be continued?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 70