items. He kept
his back to her, thereby hiding his booty. If his was anything like hers…
***
Sharon dozed part of the way back
to Parkersburg. She offered to drive at the half way point, but Pete winked and
said he wasn't tired. Thoughts of her purchases kept her on the edge of
arousal, and she wondered if they'd get to them tonight. One of hers was fairly
tame, but the other was freaky. She shifted in the seat as her pussy pulsed,
and she tightened her lips so a moan wouldn't betray her anticipation.
Her stomach took a nosedive when
they approached her house. A car sat at the curb. Shit. Why is he here? The last person on earth she wanted to see was her father.
"Well, looks like you have
company," Pete observed.
"Shit," she murmured
under her breath.
"Do you want me to get rid of
him, then we'll go to my place?"
She absolutely did not want to
involve Pete in this sordid mess of a family of hers. Why was her father here
to ruin all her good feelings from the weekend with Pete and the wedding?
Resigning herself to another confrontation, she said to Pete, "Let me
handle it. You go on home. I'll call you later."
"I don't like leaving
you."
She closed her eyes in heartache.
"No, I want you to go. I can handle this." God, please go, Pete.
After promising to come over later,
at least call, she longingly watched him drive away, took a deep breath, and
invited the man inside.
***
Alan Timmons plunked himself down
in a chair, crossed one leg over the other knee, and jiggled it like an addict
in withdrawal. Oh, great.
"Your mother and I are getting
back together."
Sharon closed her eyes. Had she
heard correctly? "Why?" she asked, her inflection flat. She didn't
want to become emotional. "After all these years, you want to come
back?"
"I told your mother you
wouldn't like it," Alan said. "If she can forgive me, why can't
you?"
Why indeed? She needed to
get away. Just for a minute. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, she braced
her fists on the counter and took deep breaths. Alan sounded unsure and
nervous.
She couldn't let go of the anger at
his disappearance so many years ago. Hurt, humiliation, confusion, self-blame.
The adult Sharon didn't believe she was the cause of his leaving, but the child
Sharon had. For so many years, it had been her fall back fixation. She wasn't
worthy of a father's love. Why would she be worthy of any man's love?
Her heart in turmoil, she put all
thought of Pete out of her mind. She had to do something about the man in her
living room. "What do you want me to do?" she growled.
"Sharon, you always were
hard-minded. Even as a little girl."
Oh, God, it was starting again. Her
insides quivered. His criticism hurt as much now as it did then.
"Yeah," he said.
"You never had a bit of sympathy for someone making a mistake."
"Okay, stop right there."
Sharon finally found her voice. "I'm not going to take any blame for the
past. I wasn't the one who didn't have the guts to stick it out. I'm not the
one who ran away. You left with no warning, no word. Mother didn't explain
anything, didn't act like she cared how I felt or what I did. She brought men
into the house. I didn't like them. I didn't feel like it was my home any
more."
He crossed his arms, put on a
mutinous expression.
"I had to escape," she
muttered bitterly.
"Did one of them ever touch
you?" he asked, with a bit of trepidation at what the truth might be.
She felt as if a weight were
pushing on her chest. She didn't want to remember this. Shaking hands matched
shaking insides. "One did," she said in a soft voice. "I kicked
him."
"Damn it!" Alan blurted.
"Don't act like you care now.
Did you think I was so fat no one would bother me?"
He opened then closed his mouth.
"I grew up thinking I didn't
deserve any love." She shook her head back and forth ending in an agitated
tremor. "It took a guidance counselor to reach me." For some reason,
the memory of that rescue, the liberation of someone finally saying none of it
was her
his back to her, thereby hiding his booty. If his was anything like hers…
***
Sharon dozed part of the way back
to Parkersburg. She offered to drive at the half way point, but Pete winked and
said he wasn't tired. Thoughts of her purchases kept her on the edge of
arousal, and she wondered if they'd get to them tonight. One of hers was fairly
tame, but the other was freaky. She shifted in the seat as her pussy pulsed,
and she tightened her lips so a moan wouldn't betray her anticipation.
Her stomach took a nosedive when
they approached her house. A car sat at the curb. Shit. Why is he here? The last person on earth she wanted to see was her father.
"Well, looks like you have
company," Pete observed.
"Shit," she murmured
under her breath.
"Do you want me to get rid of
him, then we'll go to my place?"
She absolutely did not want to
involve Pete in this sordid mess of a family of hers. Why was her father here
to ruin all her good feelings from the weekend with Pete and the wedding?
Resigning herself to another confrontation, she said to Pete, "Let me
handle it. You go on home. I'll call you later."
"I don't like leaving
you."
She closed her eyes in heartache.
"No, I want you to go. I can handle this." God, please go, Pete.
After promising to come over later,
at least call, she longingly watched him drive away, took a deep breath, and
invited the man inside.
***
Alan Timmons plunked himself down
in a chair, crossed one leg over the other knee, and jiggled it like an addict
in withdrawal. Oh, great.
"Your mother and I are getting
back together."
Sharon closed her eyes. Had she
heard correctly? "Why?" she asked, her inflection flat. She didn't
want to become emotional. "After all these years, you want to come
back?"
"I told your mother you
wouldn't like it," Alan said. "If she can forgive me, why can't
you?"
Why indeed? She needed to
get away. Just for a minute. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, she braced
her fists on the counter and took deep breaths. Alan sounded unsure and
nervous.
She couldn't let go of the anger at
his disappearance so many years ago. Hurt, humiliation, confusion, self-blame.
The adult Sharon didn't believe she was the cause of his leaving, but the child
Sharon had. For so many years, it had been her fall back fixation. She wasn't
worthy of a father's love. Why would she be worthy of any man's love?
Her heart in turmoil, she put all
thought of Pete out of her mind. She had to do something about the man in her
living room. "What do you want me to do?" she growled.
"Sharon, you always were
hard-minded. Even as a little girl."
Oh, God, it was starting again. Her
insides quivered. His criticism hurt as much now as it did then.
"Yeah," he said.
"You never had a bit of sympathy for someone making a mistake."
"Okay, stop right there."
Sharon finally found her voice. "I'm not going to take any blame for the
past. I wasn't the one who didn't have the guts to stick it out. I'm not the
one who ran away. You left with no warning, no word. Mother didn't explain
anything, didn't act like she cared how I felt or what I did. She brought men
into the house. I didn't like them. I didn't feel like it was my home any
more."
He crossed his arms, put on a
mutinous expression.
"I had to escape," she
muttered bitterly.
"Did one of them ever touch
you?" he asked, with a bit of trepidation at what the truth might be.
She felt as if a weight were
pushing on her chest. She didn't want to remember this. Shaking hands matched
shaking insides. "One did," she said in a soft voice. "I kicked
him."
"Damn it!" Alan blurted.
"Don't act like you care now.
Did you think I was so fat no one would bother me?"
He opened then closed his mouth.
"I grew up thinking I didn't
deserve any love." She shook her head back and forth ending in an agitated
tremor. "It took a guidance counselor to reach me." For some reason,
the memory of that rescue, the liberation of someone finally saying none of it
was her
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