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Michigan Weather and Women: Part 3
Michigan Weather and Women: Part 3
How did we ever get here?
Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the
Podcast at Connected.
"When I was fourteen, Mr. Johnson introduced me to a
friend of his, Henry White, who was a master plumber. Henry was a
high-functioning alcoholic whose temper had driven away all his old apprentices
and journeymen. Luckily, I was always big for my age, and Mr. Johnson assured
Henry that I was seventeen, turning eighteen in the next few months, so he took
me on with the promise to make me an apprentice as soon as I was old enough. By
the time that Henry learned my actual age, he had come to rely on me so much
that he kept me on."
"But what about school? Don't you need a high school
diploma to become an apprentice?"
"One good thing about growing up in a small town is
that most people know the score. I made it to school when I could, and Henry
and I worked a lot on the weekends, while Alison watched the rest of my
siblings. Most of my teachers let me through with C's and D's, even though I
must have missed half of my classes. Everyone knew that I was working with
Henry and that I would need my high school diploma to become an apprentice, so
they just kind of let me slip through.
"I had well over 6,000 hours of experience plumbing
before I even turned 18 and could formally become an apprentice. By that point,
Henry was a significantly less functional alcoholic, and I was doing everything
for his business; all the plumbing and all of the invoicing. He just signed off
on the work. If anyone had ever looked into it, he could have gotten into real
trouble, but we did smaller jobs for folks who didn't have a lot of money, so
no one ever noticed or cared.
"Just about the last thing that Henry did before he
passed was to swear out my application to become a master plumber. Then one day
I showed up for work, and he had died in his sleep. He didn't own much of
anything, other than his tools, and he didn't have any family that I knew of,
so I just kept on working."
After a few minutes spent lying together in silence, I
thought that Erin might have drifted off, but she had one more question for me
before she did.
"When did your mom leave?"
I had never told anyone that part of my story; even my
brother and sisters thought that Mom had just left one day, leaving me in
charge. The reality was so much worse.
"By the time Lane started school, Mom had already left
us. Not physically, but in all the other ways that matter. She didn't work, and
she regularly brought her 'boyfriends' back to our house to trade sex for
drugs. Any support she got from social services went straight into her arm or
up her nose. I was working long hours by then, to pay the rent and put food on
the table, so sometimes that meant that Mary or my brother would be at home
with Mom when I wasn't there. I knew it was playing with fire, but there was
nothing I could do about it other than pray.
"Normally, when I got home, I would blow my horn as I
pulled into our drive and Lane would come running out to hug me and tell me
about his day. So, I knew something was wrong when I came home late one
evening, turned off my truck, and he still hadn't come out. I went inside, and
Mom was sitting stoned in the living room watching TV. I asked where Lane was,
and she just waved toward the back of the house. Alison and Sharon were out, so
Mary and Lane were home with her by themselves. I found him in the room that we
shared, cowering in the corner, with little Mary guarding the door. She was
only eight at the time.
"After a few minutes, I got Lane to tell me what was
wrong, and he showed me his arm. Earlier, he had been in the kitchen and had
bumped into Mom while she was cooking something on the stove. In a burst of
rage, or maybe just evil, she grabbed his arm and held it against the burner.
You can still see the scar on his arm today.
"That was the end of it. I asked Mary to stay with Lane
in our room, I packed Mom's things into the one suitcase we owned, and I drove
her to the bus station. I bought her a ticket to Grand Rapids, gave her all the
cash in my wallet, and waited with her until she boarded. I told her I would
call the police if she ever came back.
"Before she left, she spat on me and told me she wished
I had never been born."
I marveled at how flat my voice sounded, but to my surprise,
my cheeks felt wet. I thought I had lost the ability to cry long ago.
"Can you imagine that, abandoning your own mother? I'll
probably burn in hell, but it was the only way I could think of to keep my
brother and sisters safe. I haven't seen her since, although she used to call a
couple of times a year asking for money. I didn't feel too bad about hanging up
on her when she did, though, since she was still collecting family benefits for
us all. Lane barely remembers her, which is likely a blessing, so I made up the
story about Mom going away for the weekend and never coming back.
"Since then, I have done what was needed for us to
survive. When Alison finished school, she wanted to stay home to help look
after the others, but I convinced her to go to college. I said that Mom had put
aside some money for her tuition, but of course, that was a lie. I have been
making the payments for her, but I wanted her to have the chance to just be
young, for once. To get away from all of this, at least for a while."
"But what about you, Davis?"
"I don't matter."
"Well, you matter to me."
While I was speaking, Erin had wrapped both arms around me
and was now holding me tight against her body. When I finished, my body was
wracked by waves of uncontrollable grief, but she held me through it all.
Eventually, as I started to calm down, she gave me gentle kisses on the nape of
my neck and whispered to me in a soft voice.
I don't remember what she said, but I fell into a deep and
dreamless sleep.
The power came back on early the next morning, and Erin and
I were the first people to wake up. She lay beside me with a small smile on her
face.
"You've had some hard times, Davis Crawford, but you
have come out the other side. You're pretty amazing."
I felt a sudden burst of both elation and fear as I returned
her smile.
"Thanks for listening and not judging me. I've never
told anyone some of the things I shared with you."
"It was my pleasure. Now let's get up and make some
coffee."
Looking out the window, the snowdrifts were over two feet
high in places, but I knew they weren't going to get any lighter as the sun
came out and they started to melt.
"I am going to get started on the shoveling if you want
to start on breakfast."
Erin gave me a bemused look.
"Or maybe, I am fully capable of shoveling snow, and we
can get it done twice as fast by working together."
A few minutes after we started, Lane came out to help. At
one point, when Erin was on the other side of the yard, he started to speak.
"I heard some of what you said to Erin last night. I
never knew what Mom did to you, what you did to protect us. Thank you."
"Ah, Bud. I never wanted you to worry. Mom wasn't well
for a long time, and she made some terrible choices. But she's gone now, and
you will always be safe with me."
By the time we finished, we had worked ourselves into a
lather, so I suggested to Wilma that she get a snow plowing service for the
winter. She gave me a look that implied that somewhere there was a village
searching for its idiot; and that idiot was me.
"Oh, I have a service, but they take so long to come
that they are useless if they bother to show up at all."
Erin jumped into the conversation, looking pissed off.
"It's part of my family and the McDougal's ongoing
campaign to get Gran to move. I have told them how dangerous the game they are
playing is, but they just don't seem to care."
I thought for a minute, before walking a little ways away
and making a call. When I returned, I had some good news for Wilma.
"Go ahead and cancel your current service. If they
aren't going to do the work, they shouldn't have a problem with not getting
paid. I called an old friend of mine from school who runs a snow removal company
out of Harbor Springs, who owes me a favor or nine. From now on, you will be at
the top of his list."
Erin and I texted just about every day between Thanksgiving
and Christmas, and we talked most nights when she wasn't working. We were both
insanely busy; Erin was providing pediatric coverage for two hospitals that
were three hours apart, and I was working as much overtime as possible, to save
up for Christmas. Some weeks, the only time we had to meet in person was Sunday
afternoons at Wilma's.
Mary, in turn, was flourishing under Wilma's guidance. It
seemed like she was channeling her emotions into her art, and I began to see
the kind and thoughtful sister reemerge that I thought I had lost forever. She
wouldn't show me the painting she was working on, but Wilma said she was making
good progress, and that was all I needed to know.
As it got towards mid-December, our thoughts turned to
Christmas. Since Wilma's family was still boycotting the holidays, we decided
to have a joint celebration like at Thanksgiving. Erin was going to be working
at the hospital in Petoskey on Christmas Day, but we promised to keep Wilma
company and to bring her a Christmas meal that she could eat on her break. In
typical fashion, she tried to convince us that she would be fine with cafeteria
food, but we would hear nothing of it.
When we got to Wilma's house for lunch on Christmas Day, she
had stockings laid out by the fireplace with a present for each of us. Santa
must have had a very healthy budget, because he brought Lane a new fishing rod,
Mary a set of expensive paints and charcoals, Sharon a contribution to her
college fund, and Alison a specialized nurse's bag with a personalized
stethoscope.
Rather than a present, my stocking came with a small
envelope that contained a pair of tickets to the traveling production of
"Moulin Rouge" that was playing in Grand Rapids in March. Although I
was happy to get a present of any kind, Wilma must have seen my look of
confusion at the choice.
"I was talking to Santa, and he mentioned that Erin
loves musicals. Phillip used to take her to them when she was younger. He would
put on his best suit, and she would get all dolled up in a dress with some of
my jewelry, and they would go out for a fancy dinner before the show and have a
grand old time."
I looked at her in amusement, before replying.
"Well, it seems that Santa is about as subtle as a
sledgehammer. But I will have to say thanks, next time I bump into him."
Our present to Wilma came in three parts. First, we included
her in our Christmas cookie exchange, and Mary even gave her a double portion
of the chocolate chip cookies she had baked. Second, the five of us committed
to helping her catch up on the yard work and house repairs that had fallen by
the wayside since Phillip passed. And finally, we pledged to do everything in
our power to make sure that she could stay in her house for as long as she was
able.
Wilma hugged and thanked each of us with tears in her eyes,
then looked over at Mary.
"Why don't you get your present for your brother."
Mary went to the studio at the back of the house and brought
back what looked like a small painting, wrapped in Christmas paper.
"I wanted to make you something to say 'thank you' for
everything you have done for us. And for not giving up on me."
When I unwrapped the painting, I was stunned. It was very
different from Phillip or Wilma's more realistic works and had vibrant streaks
of paint that burst across the canvas, meeting, seemingly at random, in explosions
of color. The entire piece was chaotic, except for a single corner that was
shielded from the turmoil by a solid arc of paint that was the exact color of
my eyes.
After lunch, Mary and Sharon kept Wilma company while
Alison, Lane, and I went to see Erin at the hospital. Things were pretty quiet,
so she had time to sit and eat her dinner with us. While she ate, I showed her
pictures from earlier in the day. She laughed at one, in particular, of Wilma
with her arm around Mary while they were wearing festive paper hats from their
Christmas crackers.
"Thank you for taking such good care of Wilma, Davis.
She would never admit it, but the holidays would have been very lonely for her
this year without you. It means the world to me that you could be there for her."
We chatted a bit longer before I pulled out my present for
Erin. It was a small flat package which she opened slowly. Inside was a framed
drawing of Wilma's house, as seen from the docks, as she looked out the picture
window in her living room.
"This is amazing, who made it?"
"I used to draw quite a bit in school. Since Mary has
been working with your Gran, I thought I might give it another try, and I
particularly liked how this one turned out."
"It's beautiful, Davis. Thank you."
She started to blush as she glanced over at Lane, before she
slid a card over to me, and whispered, "Maybe you should wait to open this
until later when you're alone."
Inside the card was Erin's two-part gift to me. First, an
invitation to visit her in Grand Rapids, and second, a night for the two of us
in a suite at a very nice hotel.
New Year's Eve was even quieter than usual at our house.
Erin was working in Grand Rapids and was on call that evening. I spoke with her
earlier in the day, however, and wished her a Happy New Year, and we sent each
other kissing emojis at midnight. The rest of us spent the night playing board
games. The only real excitement came a few days earlier when Mary asked if she
could invite a friend to join us.
"And is this friend a boy, by chance?"
As far as I knew, Mary had never had a boyfriend, so this
was a new development. Mary didn't have to answer, since her blush did the
talking for her.
"Do we know this boy?"
"It's; It's James McDougal. But he's not like his
brothers. He's a good guy."
I had my reservations about all of the McDougals, but I was
willing to give him a chance. I had only met James that one time at his
parent's house when I had gone to get Mary, and he seemed polite enough. But
since he was a McDougal, he was starting with two strikes and was in danger of
going down swinging.
To give Mary credit, James passed the first boyfriend test
before he even made it into the house. When he drove into the yard, Munchkin
was the first to greet him. He wasn't growling or barking like he sometimes did,
or showing his teeth, but he was plenty intimidating. James waited patiently
for him to approach before carefully scratching behind his ears. After Mary
came out to greet James, Munchkin decided he was alright and fell in behind
them as they came inside. Just after midnight, as he was getting ready to
leave, James took me aside.
"I just wanted to say, sir, that I am sorry for what
happened with Mary a few months back. I should never have brought her over to
my house without your permission, and I should have brought her right back home
once I saw that my brothers were home. I promise you, that despite my bad
judgment, I would have made sure that nothing happened to her, and I won't ever
make that mistake again."
I had to admit that James was growing on me.
Chapter 5.
It wasn't long before Mary introduced James to Wilma. I had
to work on a Sunday in early January, so he offered to drive her to Wilma's in
my place. I could tell he was nervous, and he was wearing a nice, collared
shirt with some clean jeans, under his winter jacket. By the time he brought
Mary home, his shirt was soaked in sweat, and he looked a little like a young
man returning from war. Later that week, I asked Wilma what she thought of him.
"He seems like a nice, polite boy and he sure is
besotted with our Mary. While Mary and I worked on her latest painting, he did
some chores for me, including chopping and stacking the entire half cord of
wood you dropped off last week. But he didn't complain, and he was still
smiling at Mary when he was done, so I think he will do."
Wilma's relationship with the rest of the McDougals,
however, remained tense, and they made it clear to me that continuing to help
her would come at a steep cost. I ran into Calum one evening at the grocery
store and he made their position crystal clear.
"We've got a big job coming up in Indian River that you
might be interested in. Starts in a week, and it would keep you busy for the
better part of the next year, solid. The job is yours if you want it."
"What's this job going to cost me?"
"It's yours, no strings attached. But you wouldn't have
time to help old lady Anderson anymore. You know, and I know, that it's time
for her to move on from that land. It's what her family wants and it's what's
best for her. I am sure that doctor down in Petoskey would understand, I figure
she must be tired of looking after that grandmother of hers all the time
anyway. Think how much more time the two of you would have together if you were
working a regular nine-to-five kind of job.
"On the other hand, if you don't work with us on this
project, my family is going to take it pretty hard. Hard enough that we might
reach out to our friends and neighbors to let them know that you are not a team
player and that they may not want to do business with you."
There it was. They were threatening to ruin me if I didn't
do what they wanted. I knew they couldn't cut off all of my business since
there were too many people in the lower peninsula who had been screwed over by them
in the past. But they could sure make things tough for me. I am really bad at
taking orders, however, particularly from dickheads like Calum McDougal.
Calum had a cynical smile as he walked away. He didn't value
decency or loyalty, so I was sure he thought he had won me over. All he had
done was harden my resolve. I felt honor-bound to reach out to my friend who
was clearing Wilma's driveway, though, to let him know that he might get some
heat from the McDougals. He was surprisingly poetic in his response.
"Fuck those arrogant worm-drowners and the horses they
rode in on."
Valentine's Day was never a big deal for me. Over the years,
I hadn't had time to date, and I wouldn't have had any money to do anything
special if I did, so the Hallmark holiday passed me by without too much fuss or
bother. I had hoped things might be different since I was with Erin, but she
was on call at the hospital in Petoskey, and I was pushing hard on a large
multi-unit build that was on a tight schedule, so I was working six or even
seven days a week until it was done. My work hadn't completely dried up since
my run-in with Calum, but it had certainly taken a hit, so I was not in a
position to turn down jobs, no matter how inconvenient.
My one consolation was I knew I would see Erin in a couple
of weeks when I visited her in Grand Rapids for the show. I had some flowers
delivered to her at the hospital anyway, to let her know that I was thinking of
her. That earned me an emoji-filled text and an enthusiastic video call when
she was done with her shift.
As the date of the show got closer, I started to get
anxious. I had never been to a live performance of anything, except the
occasional high school assembly, and I worried that Erin would be disappointed
in my lack of manners and refinement. Wilma noticed my growing nervousness and
decided that I needed a pep talk.
"Listen, Davis. Erin likes you for who you are. She
doesn't need or want you to act like some slick yuppie from the big city."
"I know, Wilma, but I don't even know what to wear. The
nicest outfit I own is still just a collared shirt over a pair of jeans."
"Hmm, I can help you with that. I still have some of
Phillip's old suits and ties, let's take a look and see what might fit."
Half an hour later, Wilma had picked out a heavier dark
charcoal-colored suit, a lightweight linen suit suitable for warmer weather,
and a dark grey suit with tight pinstripes for me to try on. She had some
shirts for me, as well, from when Phillip was younger.
"Phillip wore that pinstripe suit the first time that
he took me to the movies. I'll never forget that night, he looked just like
Cary Grant. If you bring these suits to the tailor in Indian River, he should
be able to take in the jacket and hem the pants to fit you perfectly. A good
tailor can make these suits look like they were cut just for you."
I didn't want to seem ungrateful, but I couldn't help but
wonder if I would look funny in a decades-old suit. Wilma dismissed my concerns
out of hand.
"Let me tell you a little secret. If you buy a cheap
suit, it will quickly begin to look tacky and dated. If you invest in a quality
suit, it will age gracefully and become a timeless classic."
Finally, Wilma selected a half dozen ties for me to try on
and spent an hour teaching me how to tie a half-Windsor knot.
"Get these suits altered, grab yourself a pair of
polished black leather shoes, and you'll have those snooty pricks at the
theatre thinking they are underdressed. And try to have fun. Erin loves the
theatre, so if the two of you continue to fall in love, you will be going with
her at least a couple of times a year, so you might as well enjoy it."
I stood there in shock for a moment.
"Do you really think Erin is falling in love with
me?"
"Well, yes, I do. And it's clear as daylight that
you're in love with her too. But don't overthink things. Just go to the show
and have a great night together. And here, take this with you as well,"
Wilma said handing me a navy blue pocket square with a distinctive paisley
pattern.
"Most men don't bother wearing a pocket square anymore,
but I think they complete the look perfectly. You should wear this one on your
date with Erin."
Wilma took a final look at me and then slipped a
twenty-dollar bill into my pocket.
"That's for you to get a haircut before the show. Your
normal 'shaggy mutt lost in a forest' look is adorable but not for your big
date."
The day of the performance approached with both aching
slowness and relentless speed. We hadn't discussed it, but I knew (or at least
strongly suspected) that Erin would have some expectations about how we spent
our time together after the show. Unfortunately, I had no experience when it
came to women other than a single kiss with Brittany Johnson back in my
sophomore year of high school. I was terrified that I would disappoint her.
To make matters worse, I had the three-and-a-half-hour drive
to Grand Rapids to overthink things. By the time I arrived at Erin's apartment
complex, I was a bit of a mess. My nerves were somewhat allayed, however, when
Erin came running out to greet me with a huge smile on her face.
"You made it! How was the drive? Wow, I love the
haircut! I hope you're not too tired. I can't wait for tonight. I have been
telling the girls all about you, and they are dying to see if the man lives up
to the legend!"
I guess Erin could see the sudden swell of anxiety on my
face, so she took my hand.
"Don't worry, the girls will love you, Davis. Why don't
you grab your bag and come inside? I thought we could get changed here and then
check in to the hotel before dinner and the show."
Erin's housemates were really sweet, and the three of us
chatted for at least an hour while Erin got ready before I excused myself to do
the same. I put on Phillip's charcoal grey suit along with the crisp white
shirt that Wilma had recommended. It took me four tries to tie my navy blue
tie, but even I could tell that it made the colors in my paisley pocket square
pop.
Despite my nerves, I was still ready before Erin, so I
rejoined her housemates in the living room while I waited. They kept sneaking
glances at me when they thought I wasn't looking, so much so that I thought I
must have done something wrong. Rather than second-guessing myself, I decided
to take the bull by the horns and ask; better to be embarrassed in front of
Erin's housemates than in front of her.
"It's; it's not that you did anything wrong. It's just
that you look; well, amazing; like an old-time movie star or something. Erin is
going to swoon when she sees you."
"You really think so?" I asked, still not sure of
myself.
Just then, I heard Erin's voice from behind me.
"I'm sorry I took so long; we should head out before
we're;"
Erin went silent as I turned to look at her. She was wearing
a floor-length emerald-green dress, which seemed to flow around her and mold to
her curves, gathering delicately at her neck while leaving her back bare. Her
sandy-blonde hair was styled in an elegant updo, while a few strands floated
loose, framing her face. But, as always, what captured and held my gaze were
her amber eyes, which danced and sparkled as she moved. My hands began to
tremble, and I didn't trust myself to speak.
"Do I look alright, Davis?"
I took a deep breath that sent oxygen coursing through my
body, as I found my voice.
"I had no idea that anyone could look as beautiful as you
do right now."
Apparently, she liked my response, since her face broke into
a wide grin.
"You look mighty handsome yourself, Mister," she
said while making a small adjustment to the knot of my tie.
"Is that one of Grampy's suits? It looks amazing on you,
and I love the tie and the; Oh; Oh, Davis. Is that Grampy's pocket
square?"
I could see tears forming in her eyes.
"Wilma thought you might like it; that it might remind
you of Phillip and the times he took you to the theatre when you were younger.
I don't have to wear it, though, if you don't like it," I said reaching up
to take it out of my pocket. Erin stopped my hand with hers, however, and then
lightly ran her fingertips over the colorful square.
"Gran was right. It reminds me of Grampy and now it will
remind me of you. Please, I want you to wear it. For me."
I felt a bit self-conscious pulling up to a fancy hotel in
my ratty old truck, but it didn't seem to faze Erin in the least, so I decided
not to worry about it. The suite she had booked was by far the nicest room of
any kind that I had ever been in, but I tried not to seem like a country rube
as I looked around.
"Do you like it?" Erin asked a bit nervously, as
she tried to gauge my reaction.
"Honestly, I thought that rooms like this were just for
celebrities and movie stars, and folks like that."
"Normally that's the case, I guess, but for one night;
tonight; it's ours."
Dinner was lovely. I kept expecting people to see past my
suit and realize that I was an imposter; just a plumber from the peninsula; not
the kind of man who should be spending the evening with a woman like Erin. But
she seemed to be having a wonderful time, so I began to relax. My anxiety was
further abated when she leaned over the table and said in a low voice.
"Jesus, the women in this place can't stop checking you
out. I'm kind of wishing I had brought my bear spray now to keep them away. I
need to excuse myself for a minute, but I wouldn't be surprised to find one of
them trying to take my place when I get back."
"Erin, I would never;"
"I know, Darling. And frankly, they can look all they
want because I know who you're going home with tonight."
After that, I looked around the room with a new eye and
noticed the subtle glances in my direction, and the shy smiles and blushes. I
guess Phillip really did have good taste in suits.
After dinner, we walked arm-in-arm to the performance hall,
which was very impressive, with its soaring ceilings and plush velvet
upholstery. Our seats were in a box on the right-hand side of the hall, which
gave us a commanding view of the stage. As the lights went down, Erin took my
hand in eager anticipation. I don't remember much about the performance that
night; I spent more time watching Erin's childlike wonder than what was
happening on the stage.
Erin was still holding my hand at the intermission, and I
felt a warm sense of contentment wash over me.
"Oh, I forgot to mention, some of the largest donors to
the hospital are hosting a reception after the performance. Would it be alright
if we put in an appearance before we head back to our hotel?"
I agreed without hesitation; a decision I would second guess
before the night was over.
It was close to 10:30 by the time the performance ended, and
Erin held my arm, while resting her head on my shoulder, as we made our way
through the hall to the reception. We each grabbed a drink, and we drifted
through the small crowd until Erin was greeted warmly by a
distinguished-looking older couple. Erin introduced them to me as the hosts of
the reception, Mr. and Mrs. Wendel.
"Please, just call us Tom and Martha. And you two make
such a lovely couple. What do you do, Davis?"
"I am a plumber, Ma'am," I replied, wondering how
that news would be received by this obviously well-to-do couple, but I needn't
have worried.
"What kind of plumbing do you do?" Tom asked with
genuine interest.
"Mainly residential at this point, since I just got my
master's license last year. A lot of the larger builders want to see some gray
hairs on the heads of their skilled tradesmen, so right now, I am just doing
what I can to pay the bills."
"Amen, to that brother. I remember those days well. I
started out, over 30 years ago now, as a dry Waller, and I spent more years
than I care to remember doing whatever jobs I could get, just to get a foot in
the door. It paid off for me in the end, though. Say, I am working on a
development on the south side of town and was wondering;"
Before Martha could stop him, Tom launched into a long and
technical question about a challenge he was having with the plumbing for his
new development. When I started an equally long and technical response, Erin
kissed me on the cheek and whispered that Martha and she were going to go to
the bar to get another drink.
A few minutes later, I was still talking with Tom when a movement
at the bar caught my eye. I looked more closely and saw that Erin was speaking
with a tall, arrogant-looking man who kept trying to put his hand on her lower
back, while she forcefully pushed it away.
"My apologies, Tom, but could you give me a minute?"
Without waiting for a reply, I walked over to where Erin was
standing and slipped my arm around her waist, just as the man reached for her
for a third time.
"Hey, now," I said, trying to defuse the situation
with a bit of humor. "At least buy me a drink before you make a move on me
like that."
His hand recoiled like it had been scalded, and his cheeks
colored in anger. I could smell the alcohol on his breath from where I was
standing.
"Well, if it isn't the plumber," he said in a
mocking tone. He must have been eavesdropping on my conversation with Tom, and
he clearly wasn't impressed.
"What did you think of the show this evening? Actually,
that's hardly a fair question since you've probably never been to the theatre
before. So, how about something more your level? I wonder what you would think
of the bathrooms in my new penthouse. I am sure you would find them very
impressive. I will give you a call the next time my toilet gets clogged, and
you can come and check them out."
He seemed very pleased with his insults, so he continued, a
condescending grin on his face.
"Anyway, Dr. Anderson, as I was saying, it was
charitable of you to let the help see how the rest of us live, and I am sure he
is having a good time and all, but it's past time for him to bring his daddy's
suit home, don't you think? Why don't you leave him to it, and you and I can go
have a drink? And then; who knows?
I had dealt with people like this prick for my entire life.
When you grow up with one abusive parent and no money, you get used to just
about everyone feeling like they are better than you. There was nothing I could
do about that, but I learned to use humor as a shield to protect myself and
deflect attention. But sometimes humor just wasn't enough. And when humor
failed, a more direct approach was called for.
"You know, if you're trying to insult me, you're going
to have to work a whole lot harder than that. But I doubt that hard work is
something that you're too familiar with. I have been working since I was twelve
to put food on the table for my brother and sisters. I have been a plumber
since I was fourteen; by the time I was fifteen, I am sure I had already spent
more time ankle-deep in shit than you've spent doing honest work in your entire
life.
"I didn't borrow this suit from my father because I
don't know who my father is; that's right, I'm a bastard. But I am a bastard by
circumstance and not by choice. I was born this way, what's your excuse? And
since you asked, the suit I'm wearing belonged to Erin's grandfather, and you're
right, I would never be able to afford a suit like this myself. But it's an
honor to wear a suit that belonged to a man who loved Erin more than anything
in this world. If I am really lucky, maybe she will let me love her just as
deeply one day.
"I may not know that much about musicals or the
theatre, but anything that brings that much joy to Erin is more than fine in my
books. So, I am going to continue to have a wonderful time with Erin this
evening. Why wouldn't I? I am here with the most beautiful woman in the place,
or;" I swept my gaze over to Martha, who was still standing beside Erin,
"tied for the most beautiful, anyway."
The man's face was now distorted with anger, and he took a
step towards me. I stepped forward to meet him, my eyes never leaving his.
Before, I had been speaking loudly for the benefit of those around us, but now
I was speaking in a controlled voice, pitched for his ears alone.
"You can say what you want about me, you prick. I have
no respect for arrogant shitheels like you, so I just don't care. But before
you ever think about putting your hands on Erin again, without her consent, you
would do well to remember the Pipe Wrench Incident.
"When I was fourteen, two of the men my mother was
having sex with, in exchange for drugs, decided that my sister Alison should
join in their fun. She was just nine years old. Luckily, I was home at the
time, but I was just a kid, and they were fully grown men. When it was over,
they were in the hospital, and I was cleaning my pipe wrench with some WD-40
and a rag."
I looked him up and down once, dismissively.
"Remember that story the next time you're tempted to
touch someone I love."
I turned to Tom who had come over to stand with Martha.
"I'm sorry I interrupted your lovely event, and please
don't hold my bad manners against Erin. I don't want to cause any more trouble,
so maybe we should be on our way."
Tom held up his hand indicating that we should stay.
"Dr. Allen, you're drunk and making an ass of yourself.
Please see yourself out. On your way home, please consider what you would like
me to say at the next Board meeting regarding your behavior tonight."
As a chastened Dr. Allen left the reception, Erin leaned
over and whispered in my ear, "So, I'm someone you love, am I?"
Before I could stammer a reply, Erin kissed my cheek and led
me away to get a drink. We avoided the topic of Dr. Allen for the rest of the
evening until we were on our way back to the hotel.
"Did you really put two men in the hospital with a pipe
wrench?"
I chuckled softly before responding.
"That part of the story is 100% true. What I didn't
mention, though, was that they were both stoned at the time and facing the
other direction. They would have killed me in a fair fight."
It was close to midnight by the time we made it back to the
hotel. We held each other's hands as we walked to the elevators, and Erin
leaned against me as the doors closed.
"Davis, how would you like this evening to end?"
My heart started racing and my hands trembled.
"I; I want to be with you. But, I have never;"
"Are you still a virgin?"
"I kissed a girl once, back in high school, but it was
nothing like kissing you. I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in
my life, but I don't want to disappoint you."
Erin tried to stay calm as she replied.
"So, you think that I am some kind of floozy who is
going to compare you to all my past conquests?"
"No, that's not it at all, I;"
"Or do you think that I am so shallow that I will get
mad at you if it takes a little while for you to learn what I like?"
"No, I don't think that either;"
"Okay, then. Here is what's going to happen. When we
get to our room, you are going to move some of the furniture out of the way,
while I put on some music. You still remember how to dance, right? And then we
will take things slowly. I will let you know what makes me feel good, and you
will let me know what makes you feel even better. And we will be together, and
that's all that matters."
And that is what happened. Erin started a playlist of songs
that she liked, and we slowly danced together in our room. After the first song
ended, she nuzzled into my chest as she loosened my tie and undid the first two
buttons of my shirt. When the next song started, she started gently kissing and
then licking my chest, causing my manhood to stiffen almost painfully.
"Well, hello, my rather large friend. You need to be
patient, for now. But if you're good, I may kiss you as well before the night
is done."
Her sensuous voice, and the image it evoked, were definitely
not conducive to patience, and I let out a low moan of pleasure.
"That's what I like to hear," she murmured as she
untucked my shirt and continued to undo my buttons until she could run her
tongue over my nipples and tweak them with her teeth. She looked up at me with
sultry, half-lidded eyes.
"It's okay for you to touch me as well if you
want," she said, as she took one of my hands and slid it under the back of
her dress and down to her silky-smooth cheeks. She slid my other hand under the
front of her dress so that it cupped her tit, and she sucked in a breath as I
stroked my callused thumb over her nipple.
"Now some women like it when you;"
I kissed her before she could finish her thought.
"Erin, I don't care what some women like, the only
woman I want is you."
"Oh," she replied in a breathy voice. "Well,
I like it when you're a bit rougher with my tits. Not right away, I need to be
in the mood; like I am now;"
She lost her train of thought as my hand enveloped and
massaged her tit, squeezing her nipple lightly between my thumb and forefinger
as I lifted it away from her body.
"Mmmm, yes. Just like that, baby."
I felt a wave of heat roll up the fingers on my other hand,
so I slid it further down until I felt a small triangle of material, that was
slick with liquid heat. I slipped my finger a little further and felt her long
smooth cunt open at my touch.
"Oh, Baby," Erin whispered huskily into my ear.
"We are going to have so much fun tonight."
It was strange going back to my regular life after my night
with Erin. The time with her was so incredible, and so beyond anything I could
ever have imagined, that it didn't seem real. To be continued in part 4.
Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.
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"When I was fourteen, Mr. Johnson introduced me to a
friend of his, Henry White, who was a master plumber. Henry was a
high-functioning alcoholic whose temper had driven away all his old apprentices
and journeymen. Luckily, I was always big for my age, and Mr. Johnson assured
Henry that I was seventeen, turning eighteen in the next few months, so he took
me on with the promise to make me an apprentice as soon as I was old enough. By
the time that Henry learned my actual age, he had come to rely on me so much
that he kept me on."
"But what about school? Don't you need a high school
diploma to become an apprentice?"
"One good thing about growing up in a small town is
that most people know the score. I made it to school when I could, and Henry
and I worked a lot on the weekends, while Alison watched the rest of my
siblings. Most of my teachers let me through with C's and D's, even though I
must have missed half of my classes. Everyone knew that I was working with
Henry and that I would need my high school diploma to become an apprentice, so
they just kind of let me slip through.
"I had well over 6,000 hours of experience plumbing
before I even turned 18 and could formally become an apprentice. By that point,
Henry was a significantly less functional alcoholic, and I was doing everything
for his business; all the plumbing and all of the invoicing. He just signed off
on the work. If anyone had ever looked into it, he could have gotten into real
trouble, but we did smaller jobs for folks who didn't have a lot of money, so
no one ever noticed or cared.
"Just about the last thing that Henry did before he
passed was to swear out my application to become a master plumber. Then one day
I showed up for work, and he had died in his sleep. He didn't own much of
anything, other than his tools, and he didn't have any family that I knew of,
so I just kept on working."
After a few minutes spent lying together in silence, I
thought that Erin might have drifted off, but she had one more question for me
before she did.
"When did your mom leave?"
I had never told anyone that part of my story; even my
brother and sisters thought that Mom had just left one day, leaving me in
charge. The reality was so much worse.
"By the time Lane started school, Mom had already left
us. Not physically, but in all the other ways that matter. She didn't work, and
she regularly brought her 'boyfriends' back to our house to trade sex for
drugs. Any support she got from social services went straight into her arm or
up her nose. I was working long hours by then, to pay the rent and put food on
the table, so sometimes that meant that Mary or my brother would be at home
with Mom when I wasn't there. I knew it was playing with fire, but there was
nothing I could do about it other than pray.
"Normally, when I got home, I would blow my horn as I
pulled into our drive and Lane would come running out to hug me and tell me
about his day. So, I knew something was wrong when I came home late one
evening, turned off my truck, and he still hadn't come out. I went inside, and
Mom was sitting stoned in the living room watching TV. I asked where Lane was,
and she just waved toward the back of the house. Alison and Sharon were out, so
Mary and Lane were home with her by themselves. I found him in the room that we
shared, cowering in the corner, with little Mary guarding the door. She was
only eight at the time.
"After a few minutes, I got Lane to tell me what was
wrong, and he showed me his arm. Earlier, he had been in the kitchen and had
bumped into Mom while she was cooking something on the stove. In a burst of
rage, or maybe just evil, she grabbed his arm and held it against the burner.
You can still see the scar on his arm today.
"That was the end of it. I asked Mary to stay with Lane
in our room, I packed Mom's things into the one suitcase we owned, and I drove
her to the bus station. I bought her a ticket to Grand Rapids, gave her all the
cash in my wallet, and waited with her until she boarded. I told her I would
call the police if she ever came back.
"Before she left, she spat on me and told me she wished
I had never been born."
I marveled at how flat my voice sounded, but to my surprise,
my cheeks felt wet. I thought I had lost the ability to cry long ago.
"Can you imagine that, abandoning your own mother? I'll
probably burn in hell, but it was the only way I could think of to keep my
brother and sisters safe. I haven't seen her since, although she used to call a
couple of times a year asking for money. I didn't feel too bad about hanging up
on her when she did, though, since she was still collecting family benefits for
us all. Lane barely remembers her, which is likely a blessing, so I made up the
story about Mom going away for the weekend and never coming back.
"Since then, I have done what was needed for us to
survive. When Alison finished school, she wanted to stay home to help look
after the others, but I convinced her to go to college. I said that Mom had put
aside some money for her tuition, but of course, that was a lie. I have been
making the payments for her, but I wanted her to have the chance to just be
young, for once. To get away from all of this, at least for a while."
"But what about you, Davis?"
"I don't matter."
"Well, you matter to me."
While I was speaking, Erin had wrapped both arms around me
and was now holding me tight against her body. When I finished, my body was
wracked by waves of uncontrollable grief, but she held me through it all.
Eventually, as I started to calm down, she gave me gentle kisses on the nape of
my neck and whispered to me in a soft voice.
I don't remember what she said, but I fell into a deep and
dreamless sleep.
The power came back on early the next morning, and Erin and
I were the first people to wake up. She lay beside me with a small smile on her
face.
"You've had some hard times, Davis Crawford, but you
have come out the other side. You're pretty amazing."
I felt a sudden burst of both elation and fear as I returned
her smile.
"Thanks for listening and not judging me. I've never
told anyone some of the things I shared with you."
"It was my pleasure. Now let's get up and make some
coffee."
Looking out the window, the snowdrifts were over two feet
high in places, but I knew they weren't going to get any lighter as the sun
came out and they started to melt.
"I am going to get started on the shoveling if you want
to start on breakfast."
Erin gave me a bemused look.
"Or maybe, I am fully capable of shoveling snow, and we
can get it done twice as fast by working together."
A few minutes after we started, Lane came out to help. At
one point, when Erin was on the other side of the yard, he started to speak.
"I heard some of what you said to Erin last night. I
never knew what Mom did to you, what you did to protect us. Thank you."
"Ah, Bud. I never wanted you to worry. Mom wasn't well
for a long time, and she made some terrible choices. But she's gone now, and
you will always be safe with me."
By the time we finished, we had worked ourselves into a
lather, so I suggested to Wilma that she get a snow plowing service for the
winter. She gave me a look that implied that somewhere there was a village
searching for its idiot; and that idiot was me.
"Oh, I have a service, but they take so long to come
that they are useless if they bother to show up at all."
Erin jumped into the conversation, looking pissed off.
"It's part of my family and the McDougal's ongoing
campaign to get Gran to move. I have told them how dangerous the game they are
playing is, but they just don't seem to care."
I thought for a minute, before walking a little ways away
and making a call. When I returned, I had some good news for Wilma.
"Go ahead and cancel your current service. If they
aren't going to do the work, they shouldn't have a problem with not getting
paid. I called an old friend of mine from school who runs a snow removal company
out of Harbor Springs, who owes me a favor or nine. From now on, you will be at
the top of his list."
Erin and I texted just about every day between Thanksgiving
and Christmas, and we talked most nights when she wasn't working. We were both
insanely busy; Erin was providing pediatric coverage for two hospitals that
were three hours apart, and I was working as much overtime as possible, to save
up for Christmas. Some weeks, the only time we had to meet in person was Sunday
afternoons at Wilma's.
Mary, in turn, was flourishing under Wilma's guidance. It
seemed like she was channeling her emotions into her art, and I began to see
the kind and thoughtful sister reemerge that I thought I had lost forever. She
wouldn't show me the painting she was working on, but Wilma said she was making
good progress, and that was all I needed to know.
As it got towards mid-December, our thoughts turned to
Christmas. Since Wilma's family was still boycotting the holidays, we decided
to have a joint celebration like at Thanksgiving. Erin was going to be working
at the hospital in Petoskey on Christmas Day, but we promised to keep Wilma
company and to bring her a Christmas meal that she could eat on her break. In
typical fashion, she tried to convince us that she would be fine with cafeteria
food, but we would hear nothing of it.
When we got to Wilma's house for lunch on Christmas Day, she
had stockings laid out by the fireplace with a present for each of us. Santa
must have had a very healthy budget, because he brought Lane a new fishing rod,
Mary a set of expensive paints and charcoals, Sharon a contribution to her
college fund, and Alison a specialized nurse's bag with a personalized
stethoscope.
Rather than a present, my stocking came with a small
envelope that contained a pair of tickets to the traveling production of
"Moulin Rouge" that was playing in Grand Rapids in March. Although I
was happy to get a present of any kind, Wilma must have seen my look of
confusion at the choice.
"I was talking to Santa, and he mentioned that Erin
loves musicals. Phillip used to take her to them when she was younger. He would
put on his best suit, and she would get all dolled up in a dress with some of
my jewelry, and they would go out for a fancy dinner before the show and have a
grand old time."
I looked at her in amusement, before replying.
"Well, it seems that Santa is about as subtle as a
sledgehammer. But I will have to say thanks, next time I bump into him."
Our present to Wilma came in three parts. First, we included
her in our Christmas cookie exchange, and Mary even gave her a double portion
of the chocolate chip cookies she had baked. Second, the five of us committed
to helping her catch up on the yard work and house repairs that had fallen by
the wayside since Phillip passed. And finally, we pledged to do everything in
our power to make sure that she could stay in her house for as long as she was
able.
Wilma hugged and thanked each of us with tears in her eyes,
then looked over at Mary.
"Why don't you get your present for your brother."
Mary went to the studio at the back of the house and brought
back what looked like a small painting, wrapped in Christmas paper.
"I wanted to make you something to say 'thank you' for
everything you have done for us. And for not giving up on me."
When I unwrapped the painting, I was stunned. It was very
different from Phillip or Wilma's more realistic works and had vibrant streaks
of paint that burst across the canvas, meeting, seemingly at random, in explosions
of color. The entire piece was chaotic, except for a single corner that was
shielded from the turmoil by a solid arc of paint that was the exact color of
my eyes.
After lunch, Mary and Sharon kept Wilma company while
Alison, Lane, and I went to see Erin at the hospital. Things were pretty quiet,
so she had time to sit and eat her dinner with us. While she ate, I showed her
pictures from earlier in the day. She laughed at one, in particular, of Wilma
with her arm around Mary while they were wearing festive paper hats from their
Christmas crackers.
"Thank you for taking such good care of Wilma, Davis.
She would never admit it, but the holidays would have been very lonely for her
this year without you. It means the world to me that you could be there for her."
We chatted a bit longer before I pulled out my present for
Erin. It was a small flat package which she opened slowly. Inside was a framed
drawing of Wilma's house, as seen from the docks, as she looked out the picture
window in her living room.
"This is amazing, who made it?"
"I used to draw quite a bit in school. Since Mary has
been working with your Gran, I thought I might give it another try, and I
particularly liked how this one turned out."
"It's beautiful, Davis. Thank you."
She started to blush as she glanced over at Lane, before she
slid a card over to me, and whispered, "Maybe you should wait to open this
until later when you're alone."
Inside the card was Erin's two-part gift to me. First, an
invitation to visit her in Grand Rapids, and second, a night for the two of us
in a suite at a very nice hotel.
New Year's Eve was even quieter than usual at our house.
Erin was working in Grand Rapids and was on call that evening. I spoke with her
earlier in the day, however, and wished her a Happy New Year, and we sent each
other kissing emojis at midnight. The rest of us spent the night playing board
games. The only real excitement came a few days earlier when Mary asked if she
could invite a friend to join us.
"And is this friend a boy, by chance?"
As far as I knew, Mary had never had a boyfriend, so this
was a new development. Mary didn't have to answer, since her blush did the
talking for her.
"Do we know this boy?"
"It's; It's James McDougal. But he's not like his
brothers. He's a good guy."
I had my reservations about all of the McDougals, but I was
willing to give him a chance. I had only met James that one time at his
parent's house when I had gone to get Mary, and he seemed polite enough. But
since he was a McDougal, he was starting with two strikes and was in danger of
going down swinging.
To give Mary credit, James passed the first boyfriend test
before he even made it into the house. When he drove into the yard, Munchkin
was the first to greet him. He wasn't growling or barking like he sometimes did,
or showing his teeth, but he was plenty intimidating. James waited patiently
for him to approach before carefully scratching behind his ears. After Mary
came out to greet James, Munchkin decided he was alright and fell in behind
them as they came inside. Just after midnight, as he was getting ready to
leave, James took me aside.
"I just wanted to say, sir, that I am sorry for what
happened with Mary a few months back. I should never have brought her over to
my house without your permission, and I should have brought her right back home
once I saw that my brothers were home. I promise you, that despite my bad
judgment, I would have made sure that nothing happened to her, and I won't ever
make that mistake again."
I had to admit that James was growing on me.
Chapter 5.
It wasn't long before Mary introduced James to Wilma. I had
to work on a Sunday in early January, so he offered to drive her to Wilma's in
my place. I could tell he was nervous, and he was wearing a nice, collared
shirt with some clean jeans, under his winter jacket. By the time he brought
Mary home, his shirt was soaked in sweat, and he looked a little like a young
man returning from war. Later that week, I asked Wilma what she thought of him.
"He seems like a nice, polite boy and he sure is
besotted with our Mary. While Mary and I worked on her latest painting, he did
some chores for me, including chopping and stacking the entire half cord of
wood you dropped off last week. But he didn't complain, and he was still
smiling at Mary when he was done, so I think he will do."
Wilma's relationship with the rest of the McDougals,
however, remained tense, and they made it clear to me that continuing to help
her would come at a steep cost. I ran into Calum one evening at the grocery
store and he made their position crystal clear.
"We've got a big job coming up in Indian River that you
might be interested in. Starts in a week, and it would keep you busy for the
better part of the next year, solid. The job is yours if you want it."
"What's this job going to cost me?"
"It's yours, no strings attached. But you wouldn't have
time to help old lady Anderson anymore. You know, and I know, that it's time
for her to move on from that land. It's what her family wants and it's what's
best for her. I am sure that doctor down in Petoskey would understand, I figure
she must be tired of looking after that grandmother of hers all the time
anyway. Think how much more time the two of you would have together if you were
working a regular nine-to-five kind of job.
"On the other hand, if you don't work with us on this
project, my family is going to take it pretty hard. Hard enough that we might
reach out to our friends and neighbors to let them know that you are not a team
player and that they may not want to do business with you."
There it was. They were threatening to ruin me if I didn't
do what they wanted. I knew they couldn't cut off all of my business since
there were too many people in the lower peninsula who had been screwed over by them
in the past. But they could sure make things tough for me. I am really bad at
taking orders, however, particularly from dickheads like Calum McDougal.
Calum had a cynical smile as he walked away. He didn't value
decency or loyalty, so I was sure he thought he had won me over. All he had
done was harden my resolve. I felt honor-bound to reach out to my friend who
was clearing Wilma's driveway, though, to let him know that he might get some
heat from the McDougals. He was surprisingly poetic in his response.
"Fuck those arrogant worm-drowners and the horses they
rode in on."
Valentine's Day was never a big deal for me. Over the years,
I hadn't had time to date, and I wouldn't have had any money to do anything
special if I did, so the Hallmark holiday passed me by without too much fuss or
bother. I had hoped things might be different since I was with Erin, but she
was on call at the hospital in Petoskey, and I was pushing hard on a large
multi-unit build that was on a tight schedule, so I was working six or even
seven days a week until it was done. My work hadn't completely dried up since
my run-in with Calum, but it had certainly taken a hit, so I was not in a
position to turn down jobs, no matter how inconvenient.
My one consolation was I knew I would see Erin in a couple
of weeks when I visited her in Grand Rapids for the show. I had some flowers
delivered to her at the hospital anyway, to let her know that I was thinking of
her. That earned me an emoji-filled text and an enthusiastic video call when
she was done with her shift.
As the date of the show got closer, I started to get
anxious. I had never been to a live performance of anything, except the
occasional high school assembly, and I worried that Erin would be disappointed
in my lack of manners and refinement. Wilma noticed my growing nervousness and
decided that I needed a pep talk.
"Listen, Davis. Erin likes you for who you are. She
doesn't need or want you to act like some slick yuppie from the big city."
"I know, Wilma, but I don't even know what to wear. The
nicest outfit I own is still just a collared shirt over a pair of jeans."
"Hmm, I can help you with that. I still have some of
Phillip's old suits and ties, let's take a look and see what might fit."
Half an hour later, Wilma had picked out a heavier dark
charcoal-colored suit, a lightweight linen suit suitable for warmer weather,
and a dark grey suit with tight pinstripes for me to try on. She had some
shirts for me, as well, from when Phillip was younger.
"Phillip wore that pinstripe suit the first time that
he took me to the movies. I'll never forget that night, he looked just like
Cary Grant. If you bring these suits to the tailor in Indian River, he should
be able to take in the jacket and hem the pants to fit you perfectly. A good
tailor can make these suits look like they were cut just for you."
I didn't want to seem ungrateful, but I couldn't help but
wonder if I would look funny in a decades-old suit. Wilma dismissed my concerns
out of hand.
"Let me tell you a little secret. If you buy a cheap
suit, it will quickly begin to look tacky and dated. If you invest in a quality
suit, it will age gracefully and become a timeless classic."
Finally, Wilma selected a half dozen ties for me to try on
and spent an hour teaching me how to tie a half-Windsor knot.
"Get these suits altered, grab yourself a pair of
polished black leather shoes, and you'll have those snooty pricks at the
theatre thinking they are underdressed. And try to have fun. Erin loves the
theatre, so if the two of you continue to fall in love, you will be going with
her at least a couple of times a year, so you might as well enjoy it."
I stood there in shock for a moment.
"Do you really think Erin is falling in love with
me?"
"Well, yes, I do. And it's clear as daylight that
you're in love with her too. But don't overthink things. Just go to the show
and have a great night together. And here, take this with you as well,"
Wilma said handing me a navy blue pocket square with a distinctive paisley
pattern.
"Most men don't bother wearing a pocket square anymore,
but I think they complete the look perfectly. You should wear this one on your
date with Erin."
Wilma took a final look at me and then slipped a
twenty-dollar bill into my pocket.
"That's for you to get a haircut before the show. Your
normal 'shaggy mutt lost in a forest' look is adorable but not for your big
date."
The day of the performance approached with both aching
slowness and relentless speed. We hadn't discussed it, but I knew (or at least
strongly suspected) that Erin would have some expectations about how we spent
our time together after the show. Unfortunately, I had no experience when it
came to women other than a single kiss with Brittany Johnson back in my
sophomore year of high school. I was terrified that I would disappoint her.
To make matters worse, I had the three-and-a-half-hour drive
to Grand Rapids to overthink things. By the time I arrived at Erin's apartment
complex, I was a bit of a mess. My nerves were somewhat allayed, however, when
Erin came running out to greet me with a huge smile on her face.
"You made it! How was the drive? Wow, I love the
haircut! I hope you're not too tired. I can't wait for tonight. I have been
telling the girls all about you, and they are dying to see if the man lives up
to the legend!"
I guess Erin could see the sudden swell of anxiety on my
face, so she took my hand.
"Don't worry, the girls will love you, Davis. Why don't
you grab your bag and come inside? I thought we could get changed here and then
check in to the hotel before dinner and the show."
Erin's housemates were really sweet, and the three of us
chatted for at least an hour while Erin got ready before I excused myself to do
the same. I put on Phillip's charcoal grey suit along with the crisp white
shirt that Wilma had recommended. It took me four tries to tie my navy blue
tie, but even I could tell that it made the colors in my paisley pocket square
pop.
Despite my nerves, I was still ready before Erin, so I
rejoined her housemates in the living room while I waited. They kept sneaking
glances at me when they thought I wasn't looking, so much so that I thought I
must have done something wrong. Rather than second-guessing myself, I decided
to take the bull by the horns and ask; better to be embarrassed in front of
Erin's housemates than in front of her.
"It's; it's not that you did anything wrong. It's just
that you look; well, amazing; like an old-time movie star or something. Erin is
going to swoon when she sees you."
"You really think so?" I asked, still not sure of
myself.
Just then, I heard Erin's voice from behind me.
"I'm sorry I took so long; we should head out before
we're;"
Erin went silent as I turned to look at her. She was wearing
a floor-length emerald-green dress, which seemed to flow around her and mold to
her curves, gathering delicately at her neck while leaving her back bare. Her
sandy-blonde hair was styled in an elegant updo, while a few strands floated
loose, framing her face. But, as always, what captured and held my gaze were
her amber eyes, which danced and sparkled as she moved. My hands began to
tremble, and I didn't trust myself to speak.
"Do I look alright, Davis?"
I took a deep breath that sent oxygen coursing through my
body, as I found my voice.
"I had no idea that anyone could look as beautiful as you
do right now."
Apparently, she liked my response, since her face broke into
a wide grin.
"You look mighty handsome yourself, Mister," she
said while making a small adjustment to the knot of my tie.
"Is that one of Grampy's suits? It looks amazing on you,
and I love the tie and the; Oh; Oh, Davis. Is that Grampy's pocket
square?"
I could see tears forming in her eyes.
"Wilma thought you might like it; that it might remind
you of Phillip and the times he took you to the theatre when you were younger.
I don't have to wear it, though, if you don't like it," I said reaching up
to take it out of my pocket. Erin stopped my hand with hers, however, and then
lightly ran her fingertips over the colorful square.
"Gran was right. It reminds me of Grampy and now it will
remind me of you. Please, I want you to wear it. For me."
I felt a bit self-conscious pulling up to a fancy hotel in
my ratty old truck, but it didn't seem to faze Erin in the least, so I decided
not to worry about it. The suite she had booked was by far the nicest room of
any kind that I had ever been in, but I tried not to seem like a country rube
as I looked around.
"Do you like it?" Erin asked a bit nervously, as
she tried to gauge my reaction.
"Honestly, I thought that rooms like this were just for
celebrities and movie stars, and folks like that."
"Normally that's the case, I guess, but for one night;
tonight; it's ours."
Dinner was lovely. I kept expecting people to see past my
suit and realize that I was an imposter; just a plumber from the peninsula; not
the kind of man who should be spending the evening with a woman like Erin. But
she seemed to be having a wonderful time, so I began to relax. My anxiety was
further abated when she leaned over the table and said in a low voice.
"Jesus, the women in this place can't stop checking you
out. I'm kind of wishing I had brought my bear spray now to keep them away. I
need to excuse myself for a minute, but I wouldn't be surprised to find one of
them trying to take my place when I get back."
"Erin, I would never;"
"I know, Darling. And frankly, they can look all they
want because I know who you're going home with tonight."
After that, I looked around the room with a new eye and
noticed the subtle glances in my direction, and the shy smiles and blushes. I
guess Phillip really did have good taste in suits.
After dinner, we walked arm-in-arm to the performance hall,
which was very impressive, with its soaring ceilings and plush velvet
upholstery. Our seats were in a box on the right-hand side of the hall, which
gave us a commanding view of the stage. As the lights went down, Erin took my
hand in eager anticipation. I don't remember much about the performance that
night; I spent more time watching Erin's childlike wonder than what was
happening on the stage.
Erin was still holding my hand at the intermission, and I
felt a warm sense of contentment wash over me.
"Oh, I forgot to mention, some of the largest donors to
the hospital are hosting a reception after the performance. Would it be alright
if we put in an appearance before we head back to our hotel?"
I agreed without hesitation; a decision I would second guess
before the night was over.
It was close to 10:30 by the time the performance ended, and
Erin held my arm, while resting her head on my shoulder, as we made our way
through the hall to the reception. We each grabbed a drink, and we drifted
through the small crowd until Erin was greeted warmly by a
distinguished-looking older couple. Erin introduced them to me as the hosts of
the reception, Mr. and Mrs. Wendel.
"Please, just call us Tom and Martha. And you two make
such a lovely couple. What do you do, Davis?"
"I am a plumber, Ma'am," I replied, wondering how
that news would be received by this obviously well-to-do couple, but I needn't
have worried.
"What kind of plumbing do you do?" Tom asked with
genuine interest.
"Mainly residential at this point, since I just got my
master's license last year. A lot of the larger builders want to see some gray
hairs on the heads of their skilled tradesmen, so right now, I am just doing
what I can to pay the bills."
"Amen, to that brother. I remember those days well. I
started out, over 30 years ago now, as a dry Waller, and I spent more years
than I care to remember doing whatever jobs I could get, just to get a foot in
the door. It paid off for me in the end, though. Say, I am working on a
development on the south side of town and was wondering;"
Before Martha could stop him, Tom launched into a long and
technical question about a challenge he was having with the plumbing for his
new development. When I started an equally long and technical response, Erin
kissed me on the cheek and whispered that Martha and she were going to go to
the bar to get another drink.
A few minutes later, I was still talking with Tom when a movement
at the bar caught my eye. I looked more closely and saw that Erin was speaking
with a tall, arrogant-looking man who kept trying to put his hand on her lower
back, while she forcefully pushed it away.
"My apologies, Tom, but could you give me a minute?"
Without waiting for a reply, I walked over to where Erin was
standing and slipped my arm around her waist, just as the man reached for her
for a third time.
"Hey, now," I said, trying to defuse the situation
with a bit of humor. "At least buy me a drink before you make a move on me
like that."
His hand recoiled like it had been scalded, and his cheeks
colored in anger. I could smell the alcohol on his breath from where I was
standing.
"Well, if it isn't the plumber," he said in a
mocking tone. He must have been eavesdropping on my conversation with Tom, and
he clearly wasn't impressed.
"What did you think of the show this evening? Actually,
that's hardly a fair question since you've probably never been to the theatre
before. So, how about something more your level? I wonder what you would think
of the bathrooms in my new penthouse. I am sure you would find them very
impressive. I will give you a call the next time my toilet gets clogged, and
you can come and check them out."
He seemed very pleased with his insults, so he continued, a
condescending grin on his face.
"Anyway, Dr. Anderson, as I was saying, it was
charitable of you to let the help see how the rest of us live, and I am sure he
is having a good time and all, but it's past time for him to bring his daddy's
suit home, don't you think? Why don't you leave him to it, and you and I can go
have a drink? And then; who knows?
I had dealt with people like this prick for my entire life.
When you grow up with one abusive parent and no money, you get used to just
about everyone feeling like they are better than you. There was nothing I could
do about that, but I learned to use humor as a shield to protect myself and
deflect attention. But sometimes humor just wasn't enough. And when humor
failed, a more direct approach was called for.
"You know, if you're trying to insult me, you're going
to have to work a whole lot harder than that. But I doubt that hard work is
something that you're too familiar with. I have been working since I was twelve
to put food on the table for my brother and sisters. I have been a plumber
since I was fourteen; by the time I was fifteen, I am sure I had already spent
more time ankle-deep in shit than you've spent doing honest work in your entire
life.
"I didn't borrow this suit from my father because I
don't know who my father is; that's right, I'm a bastard. But I am a bastard by
circumstance and not by choice. I was born this way, what's your excuse? And
since you asked, the suit I'm wearing belonged to Erin's grandfather, and you're
right, I would never be able to afford a suit like this myself. But it's an
honor to wear a suit that belonged to a man who loved Erin more than anything
in this world. If I am really lucky, maybe she will let me love her just as
deeply one day.
"I may not know that much about musicals or the
theatre, but anything that brings that much joy to Erin is more than fine in my
books. So, I am going to continue to have a wonderful time with Erin this
evening. Why wouldn't I? I am here with the most beautiful woman in the place,
or;" I swept my gaze over to Martha, who was still standing beside Erin,
"tied for the most beautiful, anyway."
The man's face was now distorted with anger, and he took a
step towards me. I stepped forward to meet him, my eyes never leaving his.
Before, I had been speaking loudly for the benefit of those around us, but now
I was speaking in a controlled voice, pitched for his ears alone.
"You can say what you want about me, you prick. I have
no respect for arrogant shitheels like you, so I just don't care. But before
you ever think about putting your hands on Erin again, without her consent, you
would do well to remember the Pipe Wrench Incident.
"When I was fourteen, two of the men my mother was
having sex with, in exchange for drugs, decided that my sister Alison should
join in their fun. She was just nine years old. Luckily, I was home at the
time, but I was just a kid, and they were fully grown men. When it was over,
they were in the hospital, and I was cleaning my pipe wrench with some WD-40
and a rag."
I looked him up and down once, dismissively.
"Remember that story the next time you're tempted to
touch someone I love."
I turned to Tom who had come over to stand with Martha.
"I'm sorry I interrupted your lovely event, and please
don't hold my bad manners against Erin. I don't want to cause any more trouble,
so maybe we should be on our way."
Tom held up his hand indicating that we should stay.
"Dr. Allen, you're drunk and making an ass of yourself.
Please see yourself out. On your way home, please consider what you would like
me to say at the next Board meeting regarding your behavior tonight."
As a chastened Dr. Allen left the reception, Erin leaned
over and whispered in my ear, "So, I'm someone you love, am I?"
Before I could stammer a reply, Erin kissed my cheek and led
me away to get a drink. We avoided the topic of Dr. Allen for the rest of the
evening until we were on our way back to the hotel.
"Did you really put two men in the hospital with a pipe
wrench?"
I chuckled softly before responding.
"That part of the story is 100% true. What I didn't
mention, though, was that they were both stoned at the time and facing the
other direction. They would have killed me in a fair fight."
It was close to midnight by the time we made it back to the
hotel. We held each other's hands as we walked to the elevators, and Erin
leaned against me as the doors closed.
"Davis, how would you like this evening to end?"
My heart started racing and my hands trembled.
"I; I want to be with you. But, I have never;"
"Are you still a virgin?"
"I kissed a girl once, back in high school, but it was
nothing like kissing you. I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in
my life, but I don't want to disappoint you."
Erin tried to stay calm as she replied.
"So, you think that I am some kind of floozy who is
going to compare you to all my past conquests?"
"No, that's not it at all, I;"
"Or do you think that I am so shallow that I will get
mad at you if it takes a little while for you to learn what I like?"
"No, I don't think that either;"
"Okay, then. Here is what's going to happen. When we
get to our room, you are going to move some of the furniture out of the way,
while I put on some music. You still remember how to dance, right? And then we
will take things slowly. I will let you know what makes me feel good, and you
will let me know what makes you feel even better. And we will be together, and
that's all that matters."
And that is what happened. Erin started a playlist of songs
that she liked, and we slowly danced together in our room. After the first song
ended, she nuzzled into my chest as she loosened my tie and undid the first two
buttons of my shirt. When the next song started, she started gently kissing and
then licking my chest, causing my manhood to stiffen almost painfully.
"Well, hello, my rather large friend. You need to be
patient, for now. But if you're good, I may kiss you as well before the night
is done."
Her sensuous voice, and the image it evoked, were definitely
not conducive to patience, and I let out a low moan of pleasure.
"That's what I like to hear," she murmured as she
untucked my shirt and continued to undo my buttons until she could run her
tongue over my nipples and tweak them with her teeth. She looked up at me with
sultry, half-lidded eyes.
"It's okay for you to touch me as well if you
want," she said, as she took one of my hands and slid it under the back of
her dress and down to her silky-smooth cheeks. She slid my other hand under the
front of her dress so that it cupped her tit, and she sucked in a breath as I
stroked my callused thumb over her nipple.
"Now some women like it when you;"
I kissed her before she could finish her thought.
"Erin, I don't care what some women like, the only
woman I want is you."
"Oh," she replied in a breathy voice. "Well,
I like it when you're a bit rougher with my tits. Not right away, I need to be
in the mood; like I am now;"
She lost her train of thought as my hand enveloped and
massaged her tit, squeezing her nipple lightly between my thumb and forefinger
as I lifted it away from her body.
"Mmmm, yes. Just like that, baby."
I felt a wave of heat roll up the fingers on my other hand,
so I slid it further down until I felt a small triangle of material, that was
slick with liquid heat. I slipped my finger a little further and felt her long
smooth cunt open at my touch.
"Oh, Baby," Erin whispered huskily into my ear.
"We are going to have so much fun tonight."
It was strange going back to my regular life after my night
with Erin. The time with her was so incredible, and so beyond anything I could
ever have imagined, that it didn't seem real. To be continued in part 4.
Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.
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