This is my story, that is, I wrote it.  I retain all rights to this story and
I'm inviting others to read it and send in comments.  I do not give
permission to post it to any site that makes money from stealing
from authors.  On the other hand, if you would like to post this on a 
free site, allow me the right to know.  Always keep my name and header 
attached to this story as I consider it one of my 'babies' and I'll take
personal offense if someone tries to kidnap it and name it their own.

As with all stories written under the nym Virago Blue, you must be 
over the age of consent to read it.  I warned you.  If you are here and
read it anyway and come away disturbed, there's bunches of therapists 
that will help you out.  Don't call on me.

Enjoy and feedback always appreciated at VBWrites@aol.com

* * * 

Paternity
(c)2000 by Virago Blue


"Wake up, sleepyhead. You don't want to miss the bus."  Scotty
rolled over and grumbled.  He burrowed deeper into the rumpled
sheets, barely batting his long black eyelashes. "I brought some
orange juice." He rubbed at his still closed eyes.  

I put the glass of orange juice on his night stand and switched on
the lamp. Dawn hadn't quite broken through the clouds this
morning. Shards of light from his race
car lamp pierced the calm darkness, making Scotty squint his eyes
shut tighter. He rolled away, clutching a stuffed Snoopy to his
chest.  "I know you're awake." 
I jiggled him a little. "I can always drive you to school. I know
how much you wanted to take the bus, though." I stood to leave
the room.

"NO!" Scotty shot out of bed and grabbed me around the waist. "I
wanna ride the bus. You said."

I laughed, ruffling his little bed head. "Gotcha! I know I said you
can ride the bus, I was just testing you." I picked up my seven-year
old son, trying to balance him on my hip.  He'd grown so much in
the last year.  Wasn't it only last year that I was able to carry him
around like this? 

He was getting so big. "Can I walk to the bus stop with you?" I
kissed his freckled nose and smiled as he hugged my neck.

"Yeah. I guess."

"Good. Mommies need to do those things, you know.  It's in the
job description somewhere." Carefully I walked down the stairs
leading from his loft bedroom. 
I stepped over the Lego jet fighter he left on the small living room
floor, dumping him into his chair in our kitchen.  

"Can I have waffles and chocolate milk?"  

"Yep."

"And three cookies?"

"Nope."

"Two cookies?"

"Nope."

"One?"

"I'll put three cookies in your backpack for you to eat with your
lunch," I compromised. We couldn't afford any luxuries so when
he asked for something so simple like cookies, I found it hard to
deny him. 

I watched Scotty eat his breakfast as I sipped on my coffee. His
straight black hair stuck up at funny angles.  He looked up at me
between bites, crystal blue
eyes serene and cheerful.  Sometimes I wonder if during my
pregnancy he somehow knew the turmoil I was going through and
adjusted back then, became this sweet, mature little boy, eager to
help me, so lovable and dear. 

I pushed away from the table to get his backpack ready.  I slipped
in his Hot Wheels lunch box and, as promised, a plastic bag with
three cookies. 

"I had a weird dream," Scotty said, finishing his milk.

"Yeah? Tell me about it." I looked over my shoulder at him,
meeting his gaze.  

He shrugged, reaching for a hot wheels car, rolling it back and
forth on the formica. "My dad was there."

"Oh."

"Only I couldn't exactly tell what he looked like. I just knew it was
him. He was flying in the sky, way up in the clouds. He was happy
to see me and everything.
He wanted to take me for a ride, you know, like around the clouds
for a little while before bringing me back home. I was a little
scared so I told him you had to be
there." Scotty paused, draining his glass. "He said okay, that it
would be a good idea for you to come along. He picked us up in
his silver jet fighter. Then
we flew over the ocean and watched some whales and then we
were home."

"Sounds like a good dream." My heart ached.

"Yeah. I guess." Scotty continued to play with his car. He pushed
his chair back with a screech and ran to the bathroom.

I had some time to collect myself. Scotty never knew his father. I
did and I didn't. It's a long story, one I realized I would have to
face one day.

I cleared the table, fighting back the emotions that were
threatening to boil over. I ran hot water into the sink hoping the
sound would drown out one little
sob I couldn't hold back. The time was upon me to make a
decision. I was terrified.

"C'mon Mom! Let's go." Scotty ran from the bathroom, grabbing
my hand. He pulled me towards the door of our apartment.  He
had dressed himself in his favorite denim shorts and Dallas
Cowboys football jersey.  He even combed his hair.  

"Whoa, tiger. Did you brush your teeth?" I asked him as I grabbed
a dishtowel.  

Scotty rolled his eyes comically, exposing all of his little white
teeth, all except the one missing from the bottom row.

"Excellent. Let's go." I took a deep breath and succeeded in
containing my tears.

We walked down the sidewalk to the designated bus stop, a little
covered bench outside the leasing office door. I knelt down in
front of my son and straightened his shorts which were twisted at
an odd angle. "Okay, listen. Don't walk around on the bus, don't
make loud noises. Bus drivers hate those kind of things. Stay in
your seat. Sit with the kids your age, leave the older kids alone.
Maybe if you sat at the very front of the bus that would be----"

"Mo-om." Scotty moaned in a sing-song voice. "I'm a big boy."

I almost started crying again. "Yes, you are. Remember that
Grandma will pick you up from school today since tonight I work
at the restaurant. Don't forget."

Scotty rolled his eyes, "Every Tuesday and Thursday you work at
the restaurant, I know that already. I'm not a baby."  

I kissed him on his soft little cheek, still slightly chubby with baby
fat. I recognized that he was growing taller and the baby fat was
slipping away.  I hugged Scotty probably a little longer than
needed, for him at least. "I love you, doodlebug. Have a happy
day."

We watched the bus pull around the corner, yellow to red lights
flashing. I checked my watch and noticed the bus was running late.
Usually the bus was pulling
out of the apartment parking lot just as I was finishing up my
morning dishes. If I didn't hurry I would be late for work. "Did
you pack my cookies?"

"Yes, darling."

"See ya Mom. Tell Mr. Mayes I said hi!" Scotty yelled over his
shoulder. He disappeared down the aisle of the old school bus. I
stood at the entrance, unsure of
what to do or say, not even sure I could restrain myself from
hopping on the bus with him. The bus driver, an elderly woman
wearing big round sunglasses
and a denim shirt with apples painted across the front, must have
sensed my anxiety. "Don't you worry none, Momma. I'll take real
good care of him. We're running just a little behind today. The
school's already been notified. Terrible accident on FM 280.
Happened late last night or maybe early this morning. When I
made my first run at 7:00 am on up to the high school they were
still investigating. I'm afraid what might have happened with them
kids couldn't have been good. But
enough about that, your little boy is in Thelma McCrae's hands,
he'll be taken care of. Yes ma'am." She waved at me before
shutting the door.  The bus pulled
away with a shudder and a shriek, echoing the way I was feeling
inside.  A tear slipped down my cheek as I watched my little man
drive away, smiling at me through the smudged window. One of
those steps a mother has to face in her child's life. He was growing
up. One day he would be gone.

"Enough of this, Torie," I chided myself, swiping at the tear.
"You've got a living to make. Let's go to it." I had taken to talking
to myself over the years,  mainly because there was no one else
around to talk to. It was better that way, I think. There weren't too
many men willing to stay with a woman who already had a
child. At least that had been my experience. Except for Charlie, but
then that had its own complications.

Charlie had been my next door neighbor for almost eight months.
We would pass by each other, say hello, make small talk. He was
always friendly. He was a college
student at the local university sharing an apartment with a
roommate who also happened to be his girlfriend. I was attracted
to Charlie in a physical sense and,
since he was always so nice to Scotty, he held a special place in my
heart on that count. But he had a girlfriend and I certainly wasn't
going to get myself stuck in the middle of that situation.

One night when Scotty was spending the night with my mother I
ran into Charlie. Apparently we both had a really boring weekend
planned since it was a Saturday
night and we were both waiting our turn for the lone working
clothes dryer in the laundry room. We laughed about it. He
explained to me that his girlfriend,
Maribeth, was away for the weekend. She was attending a family
reunion in Oklahoma. He wasn't invited since their relationship
was kept quiet from her parents. Her parents didn't approve of
their living together, he said. In fact, as far as they were
concerned, Charlie was out of the picture long ago. I got the
feeling he was a little depressed over the situation. He told me he
had just mixed up a batch of margaritas and asked if I would like
one. Of course, I wouldn't pass up an
offer like that, I told him. He returned no more than five minutes
later with a plastic pitcher of margaritas and two plastic cups. 

The dryer was free at last and Charlie let me go first. I stuffed my
load in the dryer and sat down next to him again. By that time I
was feeling very relaxed,
undoubtedly from the alcohol.  I wasn't accustomed to drinking
anything stronger than a single glass of wine on occasion and his
margaritas were definitely heavy on
the tequila.  Charlie's company was very nice and he made me
laugh. I loved his smile, how it reached to his eyes when he broke
out in laughter, which was often. He didn't seem the type to come
on to me if I wasn't giving him a signal first. I boldly decided to
give him a signal. I don't know why exactly. I was attracted to
him, despite his love for his girlfriend. And, in truth, I didn't want a
relationship. For once, I reasoned, let me enjoy the company of a
man again. No strings attached.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips very softly against his mouth.
He didn't seem shocked.  I felt him return my kiss, warm and soft. 
Soon we were locked
together in a wild embrace.  What happened next will forever be
fired in my memory. It was so good, so carnal, so different for me. 


I hadn't been with a man since before Scotty was born.  It's hard to
believe I remained celibate for so long, especially to me. But when
Charlie began rubbing and caressing my back and hips, lifting me
against him, so much of those feelings I suppressed came flooding
back.  We rushed through the motions the first time,
desperately tearing at each other's clothes right there in the laundry
room. Our mouths sought skin, tongues clashed and our lips found
each others again and again during the quick coupling.  He
propped me up against a washing machine in the beginning stage
of the spin cycle. I hurriedly stepped from my cut-offs, peeling my
panties away at the same time. I released his penis from his jeans,
wantonly wrapping my legs around his hips. He thrust into me
with one wet motion, slamming me again and again into the
vibrating machine. Within seconds I was flooded with my own
orgasm, digging my nails into his back and shoulders, prompting
him to release his semen deep into me. This time, though, I was
protected.

After the laundry room incident we spent another energetic hour in
the comfort of my bedroom, the first time I had even had a man in
the sanctuary of my home. 
Charlie was an excellent lover, slow and attentive, paying special
attention to my breasts and nipples, a spot that was so sensitive to
me. His mouth and tongue
traveled lower over my curved belly, to the spot right above my
pubic bone, pulling a delicious shiver from me. He paused to look
up at me for a moment, smiling that gorgeous smile, before sliding
lower, tonguing me to another deep and powerful climax. I gladly
reciprocated, reveling in the feeling of having a man
in my mouth once again. I took my time with him, wanting him to
feel just as good as he had made me feel. When he finally found
release I willingly took it all in, licking him clean afterwards. It was
a wonderful night.

And that was it. One night. He had Maribeth, I knew that and I
didn't have the desire to interfere. My child always came first and I
wasn't ready to bring a
man into the mix just yet. But I thanked him with my eyes every
time we passed each other. He always smiled back. A month later
he and Maribeth had moved out. I never heard from him again and
I never expected to. 

Charlie was the only man I had been with in the last
eight years. I give him credit for re-introducing me
to one of the things my body was made for: the ability
to feel and give pleasure.  Not since that
weekend eight years ago have I ever thought again about
being with a man. Not that I didn't want to. It was
more a feeling of punishing myself for being
careless. After discovering my pregnancy, I pulled back
from intimacy. Charlie managed to crack through the
thick wall I had built around me. Now Scotty was
providing another source of ammunition, forcing me to
deal with the role I played with those three men years
ago.  

* * * 

Unprotected sex wouldn't get ME pregnant. I was a
teenager and invincible. But it did. I should have
known better but I didn't.

I found out I was pregnant a little over a week before
I was due to start college.  All my plans fell apart as
I devoted myself to the new life growing inside of me. 

I grew up ten years in the first few weeks. I had wild
nightmares of having my child taken from me, either by
the state since I was young and unmarried (a fact I
know now would not have happened), or by an unknown
specter wanting to do my baby harm. It fueled my
commitment to my child, to provide the best possible
home for him. I immediately began looking for work. I
didn't want to become a welfare mother. I couldn't
stand the thought of being pitied or looked down upon
because of my status.  

Mr. Mayes, the owner and manager of Lucky's Restaurant
off the interstate, took a chance on hiring this skinny
little unwed mother-to-be all those years ago. He was
like my second Dad. I worked all through my pregnancy,
took a leave of absence and went right back to work,
all the while Mr. Mayes asking me what I needed, if the
baby was alright, so many questions. But not once did
he ask about the father.  

My mom, I thought her face would crack the day Scotty
was born. During my pregnancy she pressured me to have
an abortion.  When that time had passed she begged me
to consider adoption.   I just couldn't.  She thought I
had been drugged at a local nightclub, and had sex with
a man I didn't know.  It was my fault.  That was the
story I told her.  It also changed the way she saw me,
her only child. I'll never forget the look of utter
disappointment on her face.  

Mom regretted any idea she ever had of getting rid of
Scotty the minute I went into labor. She was there
every step of the way. If our relationship had
suffered during my pregnancy, the bond we shared when
we both brought Scotty into this world repaired it. 
She loved him deeper than anything else in her life. 
Ever.   

After Scotty started Kindergarten I went back
to school myself. I completed the two year course in
medical transcription between day shifts at the
restaurant and the occasional night shift. Scotty
stayed with Mom on those nights. Three months ago I
went to work for a group of pediatricians as a
receptionist while transcribing all the doctors' notes. 
I love my job. I still worked two nights a week at the
restaurant mainly because Mr. Mayes hadn't found a
reliable night manager yet. That and I was finding it
difficult to leave the place.  

* * * 

Now, the subject I had been dreading since the day the
doctor at the clinic handed me all six pounds, three
ounces of wiggling, screaming pink flesh and black hair
was staring me in the face. Scotty needed answers. He
deserved answers. 

That night nearly eight years ago was still a fog. 
I'll never regret having Scotty, I just wish I would
have been thinking clearly that night. 

The time had come to contact the group of us that
partied together that weekend. How would I go about
telling them why I needed to see them? Where would I
even start?

I finished the dishes and freshened up before work. I
stopped to check my makeup in the bathroom mirror. 
Would they recognize me now? My hair was still pretty
much the same, straight and black. While it used to be
a few inches past my shoulders, now it fell level with
my chin. I had filled out a little more. I was always
such a skinny little thing in high school. Now, at
least, I had a curve to my figure. My eyes hadn't
changed. They were still big and hazel with maybe a
line or two now.  

I left for work, still deep in thought. I'm a firm
believer in fate. Things happen for a reason. Just
like Scotty happened to me for a reason. I wasn't very
grounded before then, in fact I was a real bitch to put
up with sometimes. I guess most teenagers behave that
way at one time or another. I think I could have easily
headed down the wrong path. I was very impulsive back
then. And rebellious. 

I had another good day working at the doctor's office. 
Karen, one of the nurses at the office, invited me to
lunch. We had a good time. Karen was married but
didn't have any children yet. She wanted to know if I
was seeing anybody. I always get nervous when someone
asks me that, like they want to set me up on a blind
date. I didn't want a blind date. I didn't even know
if I wanted a regular date. Her brother-in-law was
recently divorced, no children, and she thought I might
like to meet him. I hated to say no. I told her that
maybe they should all stop by the restaurant some night
and I'll be glad to meet him. What happens after that
would be left to chance. She seemed satisfied with my
answer. Later that afternoon she mentioned that her
brother-in-law was going to be in town that evening. A
good friend of his was in the hospital after being
involved in a terrible accident on 280 last night. 
She wasn't sure how long he was going to be in town but
even so, he didn't live that far away.  

I left work feeling nervous. Karen told me she might
stop by the restaurant with her husband and
brother-in-law. I parked my car in my usual spot at the
restaurant, under one of the only oak trees shading the
lot. I looked at my reflection in the visor and decided
a little freshening up would be a good idea, just in
case. I dabbed on a little more lipstick, brushed on a
little blush and powder then wiped at the smear of
mascara under one eye. Not bad, I thought, for a woman
working a double tonight.

I noticed the brown beat-up Dodge Ram parked near the
entrance to the restaurant. The lot had a few cars,
but this one still held the driver. I passed by the
truck, glancing at the man in the driver's seat. His
window was open and he was smoking a cigarette. His
hair looked dirty and stuck to his head in greasy
clumps. I wondered if he lived in that truck; bags
from fast food restaurants, old cups, wadded up paper
and a baseball cap littered the dashboard. He whistled
at me as I walked past, sending a shiver up my spine.

The restaurant was located off a busy highway. We
usually got an odd mix of strangers in addition to our
few regulars. I glanced over my shoulder at this
stranger one more time when I pushed through the double
glass doors. He lifted his fingers in some kind of
greeting, smiling, his cigarette still clenched between
his lips. He made me feel uneasy.

I kept busy for the next hour, working on schedules in
the office and helping out in the kitchen. A few times
I brought the orders from the kitchen and helped the
waitress with the big parties.   
 
After delivering a round of drinks, I turned the corner
into the non-smoking section. There was Karen, her
husband and Parker Lewiston. Parker was one of my old
high school gang. I hadn't laid eyes on him since that
weekend nearly eight years ago. It was fate again, I
told myself. 

"Torie! There you are. Got a minute?" Karen called
out to me. I must have been white as a sheet at that
moment because she stood and rushed over to me.

"Are you okay?" Karen asked.  "You look like you've
seen a ghost."

"No. No. I'm okay, really. Just a little surprised,
that's all. I haven't seen Parker since high school." 
I replied, trying to breath some life back into my
complexion.

"You know Parker already? Y'all went to school
together? Well this will be just great then." Karen
guided me over to their table.

Parker Lewiston looked every bit as intimidating as I
remembered. No. More intimidating. He was half-
Cherokee and half-Irish with a sexy little smirk that
made my knees a little weak. He had the eyes of a man
that always had something sinister on his mind, as
though he was undressing you and imagining all sorts of
things with just that little twinkle behind his
expression. His blue eyes stood out against his tanned
skin, and his black hair was shorter than I remembered.
He was handsome as all get out.  

Parker looked up at me and grinned. He stood up, all
six feet something of him and gave me a hug. It felt
okay. I wasn't going to push him away or anything. It
just felt okay. "Torie, long time no see. How've you
been?" Parker smiled down at me. All at once I
noticed a tiredness to him.  I thought about why he was
in town. He was visiting someone in the hospital, a
friend who had been in an accident. I hugged him back. 

"Parker. Wow. Of all the people to run into . . . " I
didn't know what to say. "Busy. Um, I've been busy
with work and all. I guess Karen told you that I work
with her at the clinic."  

Parker slid back down into the booth, patting a chair
at the end of the table. "Got a minute to chat? It's
been so long."

"Yeah, I'm due a break here in a minute. Let me just
go check on something and I'll be right back, okay?" I
turned and hurried to the kitchen before anyone could
stop me. My heart was pounding in my chest, my shirt
was sticking to me. I felt like I was going to faint. 
I fanned my damp skin with a laminated menu and
smoothed down the wrinkles in my beige skirt.  I tugged
at my hose, making sure no bags were evident.  My
blouse was still decent.  No stains yet.  My hair, I
was sure, needed to be combed.  I fluffed my black bob
with my fingers, hoping that would be enough.  I turned
to look behind me at the floor, checking that I wasn't
dragging something behind me on the floor, like a trail
of toilet paper.  

Five minutes later I sat down at their table, all
smiles and pounding chest.  

"Parker lives not too far from here, Torie. He owns
his own construction company," Karen beamed, patting
her brother-in-law's arm.

"Small construction company. Not a big deal, really." 
Parker interjected.

I nodded and smiled. "Construction? That's nice." I
could have crawled under the table and died. Nice? 
Conversation was not on my mind at the time. I was
trying to find a resemblance between Parker and Scotty.
It was possible they had the same eyes. Parker's eyes
shone a deep blue, almost sapphire, with a slight
exotic slant. Scotty's eyes were lighter and were big
and round. The hair had possibilities, though. This was
ridiculous, I thought in the very back of my mind.

Suddenly a disturbance drew my attention away from the
table. A man, disheveled and obviously drunk, was
manhandling one of the waitresses. I recognized the
grimy man from the parking lot. My heart pounded in
my chest. 

"Excuse me" I said, slowly standing, not sure how to
handle the situation unfolding. Darla, the waitress,
screamed which drew the attention of all the
customers. The man was saying something to her,
something I couldn't make out, but Darla was clearly
terrified. 

Darla stared at me, unable to speak. I cautiously
approached the man. He had Darla by the arm, twisting
it slightly behind her back. He was shaking, maybe
strung out.  Darla's eyes begged me to help her.  I
startled him and stared in complete bewilderment at the
gun clutched in his hands, digging into the back of
Darla's uniform. What happened next was a blur, but a
very slow and painful blur.

"Torie, get back!" Someone yelled. It was too late. 
I felt the blast more than I heard it. Fire tore
through my body. I was stunned and fell to the floor,
clutching my arms to my body.  

"Please no!" I think I cried before hitting the tile. 
That was the last thing I remembered before the searing
pain spread through me.

I drifted in and out of a cloud of pain, vaguely aware
of others around me. I recognized the stained ceiling
of the restaurant and knew, with more than a little
relief, that I had not been killed. At least I hoped
heaven didn't have tobacco-stained ceilings. Karen was
at my side, saying something in a soothing voice. 
Parker held my head in his lap. "The ambulance just
pulled up, Torie. Don't you worry. The bullet looks
like it missed anything vital but you have lost quite a
bit of blood. No, don't look. Trust me on this one."

Parker's hand was on my forehead. "She hit her head
pretty hard when she fell."  

"Scotty? Where's Scotty?"

"He's at your mother's house. He's fine. He wasn't
here." Karen answered back.

"She's in shock, hand me a tablecloth."  

"Tell my mother---no, don't tell my mother. Scotty
shouldn't know about this, he'll have nightmares. 
Karen?" I called out to the spinning room.  

"I'm right here."

"What will I do about Scotty?" I cried out.

"Who's Scotty?" Parker asked.

"Honey, don't worry about a thing. You're not going to
die. You'll see Scotty again. Just hold on a second."   

Karen stepped back, allowing the paramedics to push
through the growing crowd. I heard Karen mention that
Scotty was my little boy. Was? I closed my eyes,
waiting for the pain to go away. This couldn't be
happening.  

I turned my head as the paramedics loaded the gurney
into the ambulance. The pain was intense. I tried to
smile at Karen who was being held by her husband and
his brother, Parker, but I don't think I succeeded. 
Before closing my eyes I noticed a flash of gold with a
burgundy stone on the floor of the ambulance, tucked
back in the corner underneath a fire extinguisher. It
was a high school ring partially caked with dried
blood. Must be from one of those kids last night . . . 

* * *

I woke up in the emergency room, groggy but not feeling
much pain. Parker was on one side of me, Karen and her
husband on the other. My arm was heavily bandaged. I
looked up at Parker and waited. Waited for what, I
don't know, just waited. I wanted to speak but didn't
trust myself to make any sense.  Their images
continued to swim in front of me.

"She's awake," Parker said, feeling my forehead. 
There was another bandage on my temple.

"Let me get the nurse," Karen said, leaving the room
followed by her husband.

"Parker, tell me what happened?" I managed to get out
from between my cracked and dry lips.

"You were shot, Torie, in the arm. The bullet went
clear through but it may take a long time to heal." 
Parker stroked my forehead.  

"I'm not dead."

"No. Not dead."  

"What about---"

"The asshole was trying to run out the back when a
deputy nailed him. He's dead."

I closed my eyes. "Parker, where's my son?"

"Scotty? He's still with your mother. Karen told her
everything and your mom is keeping Scotty for the
night. I think you'll be spending a few nights here 
anyway."

"Does he know?" I sobbed.

"She told him you got hurt at the restaurant, that's
all. If you want to tell him, that's up to you," Parker
said. 

I blinked back more tears. "I have to tell him. I have
to tell all of you." I felt like closing my eyes again,
just to rest for a moment.  I looked up and caught the
frown on his face before drifting away again.

I woke up later in a different room. Parker stood
against the window, his body casting a shadow over my
bed. I watched as he combed his hand through his
short hair making it spike up in odd places. Cowlicks,
I thought. Like Scotty. He leaned against the wall and
rubbed at his eyes.  He looked tired and worn down. It
was time to open the box I sealed away so long ago.

"Parker?" I tentatively called out, almost hoping he
didn't hear me. He straightened slowly, pushing his
fingers into his pockets.  He pushed away from the wall
with his shoulder and came towards me.

Scotty almost lost his mother, I thought. Where would
that leave him? An orphan or cared for by another
woman who wasn't going to be around for much longer? 
Scotty deserved the whole package. He was a good kid. I
was the one being selfish. Long ago I faced up to part
of the responsibility. Now it was time to accept the
rest.

"What is it, Torie? Can I get you something?"  

"We need to talk. It's important."

"Sure." Parker approached my hospital bed, pulling a
chair up to my side.  "Go ahead."

"This isn't going to be easy to accept. It's going to
be just as hard for me to say it, but it needs to be
said. And resolved." I took a deep breath, waiting
for him to say something. He just looked at me.  I wish
there was some way I could have read a little of what
he was thinking in his deep blue eyes.  It was
impossible.  He was stoic and strong.  This was going
to be damned hard.

"Remember the weekend after graduation, the weekend we
spent at Lance's lake house? We all went skinny-
dipping, Blake brought out the weed and we did body
shots? Can you remember?" I stopped. His expression
shifted somewhat.  He combed a hand through his hair
again.  

"Yes, I remember. I remember some of it, not all of it.
We all got so wasted that weekend. There was a lot
going on."

"Parker, it was an orgy. A gang-bang. None of us
cared what we were doing, or the repercussions of our
actions. None of us."  I pushed myself up a little
higher to a seated position.  I held my breath as pain
shot up my arm.

He nodded. "Yeah, it was damned reckless. We were
kids, Torie. Why are you bringing all this up now?" 
The look on his face told me he had figured out the
answer before I needed to tell him.

"Scotty needs a father and it's one of you three." I
waited.

"Oh shit." He ran his hands over his eyes down to the
stubble on his face.  

"We might've been kids at heart but our bodies were
mature enough. . . enough to create an innocent child." 

Parker leaned over, elbows on his knees, and stared at
the floor.  "Scotty."  It wasn't a question more of a
statement.  He knew.

"What would Scotty do without me, his mother, if he
didn't know his father? I'm the only one who could
shed light on this mystery. My mother never knew who
the father could have been because I lied to her. I
was scared, Parker. I didn't want her tracking everyone
down at the time. All that doesn't matter anymore
because I came within inches of losing my life and
taking the only parent that Scotty has ever known away
from him. It's not fair to my little boy."

Parker looked up, a heart-wrenching look on his face. 
"Torie, I hear you but I don't know what you want."  

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Take a test, a paternity
test, and help me get in touch with Blake and Lance. 
After that, well, we'll just take it from there."  He
stared at me for a moment.  I thought he was going to
get up and walk out, as ridiculous as that may sound. 
True he wasn't the kid I grew up with anymore but I
refused to believe he had grown cold-hearted through
the years.

"Something else." Parker took my hand, rubbing it
between his. "You don't know about Blake, do you?"

"No. What about him?" Thoughts of AIDS and the
horrible possibilities that disease could bring to me
and Scotty, if --

"It doesn't look good. He's in a coma. He sustained
massive head injuries last night . It doesn't look good
at all." Parker shook his head. "He was always too
reckless. Got in a motorcycle accident last night on
280 coming home from a bar, just him and a tanker truck
full of drilling mud, wasn't wearing a helmet -- "
Parker squeezed my hand. "He'll never come out of it."  

Tears were dripping down my face and I know I let out a
sob. This was so hard to hear. That's not how I
remembered Blake. He was always joking around, eager
to move on to the newest fad, newest style. He was
fun. "How could that have happened to Blake?" It
wasn't any comfort, but it was all I could think to
say. 

"C'mon, Torie. There wasn't anything any one of us
could have done to stop Blake from doing what he had
his mind set on. You just can't blame anyone but
Blake." Parker paused. "He's in this hospital if you
feel like seeing him later. I-- ", his voice wavered
slightly before he cleared his throat, "--I don't think
you'll have another opportunity."  

I squeezed Parker's hand. He leaned over and lay his
forehead against our clasped hands. All this time he
and Blake had remained best friends. I had managed,
not entirely purposely, to separate myself from these
men. My grief was overwhelming. "I'm so sorry,
Parker. I wish I could do something for him. I truly
do." What I needed to say next could push Parker away
for now, but I had to say it. "Do you think his
parents would consent to a test? Maybe we could just
talk to his doctor. . . I don't know."  

Parker looked up at me, his lips set in a thin line.
His eyes hardened for a moment then softened. "It might
be what his family needs right now, the thought that 
Blake could have a son might give them something to
focus on, get them over letting Blake go. He's brain
dead, you know.  They haven't accepted it yet.  Mr.
Taylor keeps hoping that some kind of miracle would
happen, that all of a sudden Blake will wake up.  I'll
talk to Mrs. Taylor tonight. I'll see. Maybe I'll bring
her by to meet you."

I nodded. "Do that, Parker. Please?"

He nodded, patting my hand.

"As for Lance, he married Christy Cunningham.  They
live not far from here with their two little girls." 
Parker's mouth tightened. I got the feeling that
Parker and Lance hadn't remained friends, and if I knew 
his wife, I knew why.

"The rich girl? Christy of the uptown Cunninghams?" 
I asked, trying to take the edge out of my voice. 
Christy and I went way back, back to the days of junior
high when she teased me, making my life miserable. 

"Yeah. That's the one," Parker nodded. "Lance isn't
like he used to be. Truthfully, I don't think Christy
knows a hell of a lot about how Lance used to be. 
Lance was always smooth. I'm sure he managed to leave
a few things out when it came time to getting to know
each other."

I closed my eyes. This wasn't going to be easy, I knew
that from the beginning, but I realized now how much
more difficult it was going to be dealing with Lance
and Christy. I needed a lawyer.

"Look, Tor, I'll do all that I can when it comes to
Lance and Blake. I'm good friends with Blake's family. 
I'll arrange for you and Lance to meet somehow, maybe
over at my place one weekend, without Christy."

"What about you? You don't mind taking a test, do you
Parker?"

My heart sank. I could tell he was struggling with
something, and I dreaded hearing what he was about to
tell me. "What is it, Parker?"

Parker leaned back, releasing my hand. He rubbed his
hands over his face a few times, frowning. "Torie, I'm
sterile. That's pretty much the whole reason I'm
divorced now. Sherri and I could never have children.
The tests she went through showed there was
nothing wrong on her end. It was all me. We divorced
two years ago. She remarried not long after and now
has a child. It was all me - I can't father a child." 
Parker met my gaze.

I shook my head slowly. "Oh Parker, I'm sorry. I'm
just so sorry." Truthfully, I didn't know who I felt
more sorry for; me, Scotty or Parker. Out of all three
choices, Parker would have been the first pick. Lance
would be difficult to deal with because of his wife,
and Blake couldn't offer much to me at all. At least
with Blake, though, he had a good family. That was
something.

I've gotten used to the idea over the years.  It's not
what I want but I can live with it."  He stroked my
cheek with his fingers.  "I'll help you.  Besides, I'd
like to meet that boy of yours."  He paused, a warm
smile broke through his controlled expression.   "My
sister stabled her horse at my house for a while and he
definitely needs a little boy to ride him."

"Oh shit, a horse?" I laughed through my tears.

"Not really a horse, more of a small pony. Something I
sure as hell ain't gonna ride," he chuckled.

I returned his laugh. "Yeah, Parker. Maybe that would
be fun for Scotty. He loves animals."

Parker left me about a half an hour later. Visiting
hours were over. I was glad. I needed time
to think. The day's events dazed me.  I was still
trying to muddle through my emotions.  In time my arm
would heal but I was anxious about my next step.  I
hoped I didn't cause more harm than good. It had to be
done.  

I lay awake, staring at the light fixture, not really
seeing it, just thinking back eight years ago. Maybe if
I poured out all the contents of that box I had filed
away in the dark corners of my mind so long ago
something would crawl out and reveal the truth to me. 
The box was not only crowded with too many events but
also veiled and cocooned with hazy threads of alcohol
and drugs.  So much so, that I couldn't delineate
between real and imaginary.  Did Lance yank on my hair
so hard once, enough to make me cry out in pain, while
he was with me?  Did I imagine the evil glint in his
eyes when I turned to question him?  Did Blake mumble
something about love and seeing more of me?  All of it
was so confused, glossed over with gray.  The only
thing I was certain about, that remained prevalent in
my mind, was that I whored around that weekend along
with the other five occupants of that lake house.  I
had no one to blame but myself.

My mother couldn't have stopped me from going to the
lake that weekend. Looking back, I don't think she
wanted to take away that little bit of celebrating. 
High school graduation had just passed and most of my
fellow graduates were headed out of town for vacation.
Some of the wealthier kids left for cruises or trips to
Hawaii. I knew a few who were spending their summer
backpacking across Europe. I got the feeling Mom felt
guilty for not being able to afford to send me away on
a nice graduation trip.  I understood, though.  I
always understood our financial situation.  
 
I did envy those kids who left our town that weekend to 
dare the bigger world.  Maybe that's what compelled me
to act so reckless.  As for me and my other financially
challenged friends, we struck out for a weekend at the
lake.  Blake's grandfather had loaned us his lake cabin
for the weekend, a graduation gift for his only
grandson.  

* * * 

"What the fuck?" I exclaimed when Jan pushed me off
the creaking recliner.  The rank plaid on the chair
could make anyone dizzy.  Jan swayed over me, giggling
and drunk.  I pulled myself up from the floor, using
the duct-taped arm of the stuffed chair for grip.    

"It's your turn, Torie. Are you in or are you out?" 
Jan swivelled her hips. She was wearing a bikini bottom
and a t-shirt. I looked up at her in a haze, still
sucking on a joint. The guys were sitting around the
kitchen table with Tracy playing a game of cards -
strip blackjack since me and Tracy didn't know how to
play strip poker.

"I'm in." I stood up and wandered over to the table,
smiling sweetly at Blake. "Blake, honey, what the hell
is in this weed? I swear, I'm not seeing straight right
now." We all started laughing. I passed the joint to
Lance.

"In that case, it's your turn Torie." Blake slid a
card to me, face down. He dealt another card face-up.
Blake smiled, all dimples and brown eyes. He always had
such sweet puppy-dog eyes, the kind that made me smile
and dive right in.  I wanted to push my hands through
his thick blond hair. He was stripped down to his swim
trunks. Blake had bulked up this last year and was
looking fine.  

"Aren't you gonna look?" Blake asked, eyes twinkling
and warm.  He could tease me with one look, whether he
knew it or not, pulling a warm, snaking shiver from the
depths of my body.  I wanted to get closer to Blake
somehow.

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah, like at the card," I giggled,
peeking at the card on the bottom. "Okay." The bottom
card was a nine. The card face up on the table was an
eight. I started counting on my fingers.

Lance started laughing, handing the joint to Jan. 
"Shit, Torie...you are a graduate of Cunningham High
and you gotta fuckin' count on your fingers?" Lance
scratched underneath his arm.  I noticed the
resemblance he had to a squatty little ape when he did
that.  A blond squatty little ape with smallish pale
blue eyes.  He flashed a toothy smile.  "C'mon
gorgeous, you can do it."  He continued to laugh as he 
tilted the beer can to his lips.  For some reason I had
visions of pushing up at the bottom of that can and
watching the cold pale liquid run down his chest,
dousing his crotch.  I didn't do it, I thought about it
though.  I turned back and smiled prettily at Blake. 

Jan handed me the half-smoked joint. I put it in my
mouth and sucked, feeling the weed sear my lungs. I
held it in for a few seconds before exhaling with a
loud laugh. "It's this shit Blake brought. It's messing
with my head. I can't fuckin' count right now."  

"In that case," Parker spoke up, "the loser of this
hand takes off an article of clothing and has to lay
across the table for a body shot." Blake, Lance and
Parker laughed. Tracy, Jan and I just smiled.  

"No problem," I said, feeling cocky. "Hit me." 

Blake threw down another card, a six. It took me a
moment to realize I blew it.  

"Shit. I told y'all I couldn't count right now." I
stripped off my t-shirt and stood at the table in my
hot pink bikini. 

Parker smiled over at me. "To make it easier on you,
Torie, you can choose who you want to take the shot."

I sighed, crawling on top of the table. I didn't
bother moving the cards out of the way, I just laid
back on top of them. Laying across the table like this
my stomach appeared almost concave, my breasts spread
out and jiggled past the confines of my tiny top. 
Pearl Jam was blasting from the stereo making me move a
little in my spot among the kings, queens and aces. I
always loved Pearl Jam.

"Who's it gonna be?" Parker asked, hovering over me
with a bottle of tequila and a salt shaker.

"Hmmmmm . . .eenie, meenie, minie, mo . . . Blake." I
smiled up at Parker in my haze.  Parker looked over at
Blake with a knowing smirk.  

I know my body.  I always wondered at the way it
responded to certain things, certain looks and
comments.  I wasn't extremely experienced when it came
to sex, mostly just hand jobs and oral sex.  Most of us
didn't even think of oral sex as actually 'doing it.' I
wasn't a virgin, though.  At the moment Parker moved
aside for Blake to come at me I felt a tingle start
deep inside, where the warm feeling for Blake had
started earlier.  I knew without looking that my
nipples had started to tighten.  I could feel them
growing more sensitive as the fabric of my bikini
scraped against the swelling points.  I felt the wet
warmth between my legs.  I wondered if any of the gang
could smell me right now.  I thought with a laugh that
I was most definitely in heat.  The closer Blake got,
the clearer that fact became to me.  

Blake stood up, kneeling across the table. "Salt." He 
bent over me, licking a wet spot just above the
waistband of my bikini bottoms. I shivered and moaned,
moving a little underneath him.  He lifted up and
sprinkled the salt over his saliva. I giggled, always
being a little ticklish.

"Lime." Lance looked down at my face and smiled. 
"Open your mouth and bite this." I parted my lips and
gave him enough room to nestle the lime between my lips
but not before flicking my tongue over his finger. I
laughed, still holding the lime between my teeth.

"Shot." Parker poured a shot glass. He stood over me
for a moment.  

"Where do I put the shot glass?" Parker asked. Everyone
laughed, including me.

"Between her tits!" yelled Tracy. Parker lowered the
glass to my chest, looking for the best spot to place
the glass. Lying on my back like that my breasts had
spread apart enough to remove any amount of cleavage
necessary to hold up a glass, even a small one.  

"Where?" Parker guffawed. 

"Oh brother," Tracy moaned, leaning over me to push up
on one side of my tits. "Jan, you get the other side." 
Jan scooted in beside me and propped up my other
breast, finally giving me enough cleavage to keep the
glass snugly in place.

I giggled, still clenching the lime between my teeth.
Blake smiled into my eyes and then he disappeared. The
next thing I felt was a moist tingling below my navel
where his tongue was bathing me. I moaned through the
lime, arching my back at the fresh surge of hunger
between my legs. It felt incredible. Blake took his
time, absorbing all the salt on his tongue.  

"Go, go, go...," the others chanted as Blake straddled
my legs on the table. His thick thighs were on either
side of my hips, his shoulders loomed broad and mouth-
watering above me.  He bent down between my breasts
and took the shot glass between his teeth, throwing his
head back and gulping down the tequila. He pulled the
glass from his teeth and covered me, his teeth biting
into the lime and sucking.  I could feel the weight of
his crotch crushing down on top of my mound. I pushed
at the back of the lime with my tongue giving him
access to all the juice. He opened his mouth and began
to kiss me around the lime. My head was swimming. Not
so much with the haze of drugs and alcohol, but with
this incredible urge to grind my hips into him and
alleviate the ache between my legs.  

He pulled up with the lime between his teeth. Lance
and Parker were slapping him on the back like he had
scored a touchdown. All I remember is pulling him
back down to my mouth. I wanted more.

Blake didn't resist. Of course he wouldn't. We had
been giving each other signals most of the night. I
liked to flirt with my eyes, testing myself to see how
long I could hold his gaze before one of us broke away
for one reason or another. Once or twice he would find
a reason to sneak up behind me and wrap his arms around
my waist. Blake and I were close, all of us in our
little group were close in one way or another.
Something was happening between all of us, maybe it was
the realization that we were all going separate ways
that made us seem closer that weekend. We had passed
out of one stage of our lives and we were ready to
embark on the next.

Blake helped me off the table, dragging me towards him,
his hands gripping my hips.  I slid through the cards
and opened my legs. When I connected with Blake I
wrapped my legs around his waist. He easily lifted me
off the table and carried me into the bedroom, our lips
rarely breaking contact.  

I remember being lowered to the bed, Blake hovering
over me. "Are you okay with this? I wouldn't do
anything you don't want me to." Blake was adorable,
but hardly in a little boy way. His hair was thick and
wavy and his lips were succulent and ripe.  It's those
eyes that I will never forget.  Soft and warm.  Sweet. 
Velvety dark.  He was athletic and took good care of
himself. It showed and I was appreciative. Of course I
wanted to fuck Blake. Who wouldn't?

"I'm no virgin, Blake." I leaned back.  With one hand I
reached behind me and pulled at the strings holding my
top together. I pushed up on my elbows and let gravity
do the rest, watching Blake's eyes as the top slowly
slid away from my tits.

After that everything happened in a haze. My hands dug
into his thick hair as he sucked and bit on my nipples. 
His hands were rough on my tits and I liked it. I
remember Blake pulling hard at my bikini bottoms,
sliding them down my legs before quickly pulling off
his shorts. I didn't get much of a chance at that
moment to look at him. He fell on top of me and we
started kissing again. We tongued each other with an
urgency and demand that almost scared me. He grunted,
groaned once or twice, before ramming himself deep
inside me. I arched my back again, taking all of him
in.  I rubbed against him, desperately trying to reach
that one spot on me that guaranteed eruption.  We
fucked like animals.  I know I enjoyed it, Blake wasn't
complaining either.

Blake came with one hard push, holding it deep inside
while he groaned. I opened my eyes and watched as his
mouth fell open with his groan. I wondered just how
good it felt to him. His eyes were shut tight and a
bead of sweat was dripping from his temple. I touched
his face and smiled when he opened his eyes. He smiled
back, snuggling into my neck. 

We dozed for a couple of hours before Parker and Lance
burst through the door. "You gotta come see this! 
Jan and Tracy - oh shit!" Blake lurched from the bed, I
was behind him, clutching a sheet to my nakedness. 
They ran from the room. Parker turned back and gave me
a look. "C'mon Torie." He held out his hand. I
reached for him, grabbing one of the guys' football
jerseys thrown on the floor. I slipped the maroon
jersey over my head as Parker watched. The jersey fell
to mid-thigh. I smiled, reached for his hand again,
and we left the cabin. 

We ran out the back door to the patio where Jan and
Tracy were putting on a show. Aerosmith was blaring on
the stereo now, "Love in an Elevator", I think was the
song. The lake house was so far into the woods we
didn't worry much about being called for disturbing the
peace. The next neighbor was at least a mile up the
dirt road leading to this section of private property. 
We whooped it up, egging Jan and Tracy on. They had
stripped down to their bikini bottoms and were rubbing
tanning oil all over themselves. I could smell the
coconut for a few minutes until Parker passed me
another joint. I took a toke and passed it on,
laughing hysterically at my two crazy friends. They
began rubbing oil on each other, tits jiggling with
each bounce to the music or pass of a hand.   

Jan usually got a lot of attention because of the way
she looked. Standard cheerleader looks, blonde hair,
blue eyes, slender and lithe. Her breasts were nice,
in my opinion, but not as noticeable as Tracy's. 
Tracy's naked body surprised me a little. Tracy had an
olive complexion, dark brown hair and dark eyes. 
Everything was dark. She didn't excel in sports or
drill team or anything else for that matter, so it
surprised me to see such a muscular shape to her body. 
She was shorter than Jan but had a smaller waist that
flared out to round hips. Her large breasts were
crowned with large, dark nipples and balanced out her
hour-glass shape. Blake was completely enthralled. We
laughed as he jumped between the two of them, making a
show of rubbing oil on himself. Tracy and Jan joined
in, stopping only to kiss him now and then. I could
see where this was going so I turned around and slipped
back through the patio doors to the kitchen. No, I
wasn't jealous. Blake wasn't my boyfriend and I
didn't have a right to feel jealous.  Not this weekend. 
Maybe something will happen between us eventually. 
This was all in fun.

Parker followed me inside, without the joint this time,
and began rummaging around the refrigerator for food.  
"I'm hungry, too." I looked over his shoulder into the
refrigerator, not noticing anything very appetizing. 
He turned around, bumping into me. He smiled, reached
over my shoulder for a bag of Cheetos. We stood close
together for a minute before I backed against the
counter. He held out the bag for me and I grabbed a
handful of the cheese snacks.  

"Got the munchies?" Parker asked.

"Uh huh," I answered between bites.

"I can make us something to eat, like maybe an omelet." 

"No thanks, maybe later." I rubbed my forehead with
the hand not stained orange from the Cheetos.  

"Headache?" Parker asked, reaching for something in
the cabinet behind me.  

"A little. Probably the rum from earlier. Always
gives me a headache."

Parker poured two aspirin into my hand from a bottle he
was holding. "Here. Take this." He handed me an open
beer from the counter, still cold.

"Thanks." I swallowed the aspirin and beer, handing
the can back to Parker. He took a sip. We both turned
as Lance walked through the front door.  

"Dude! Where ya been?" Parker asked Lance. Lance
smiled, scratching his head.  

"Aw man, went to get a CD from the truck and must've
fallen asleep." Lance dug his hand into the bag of
Cheetos. "What's up? Tracy and Jan seem to be having
a good time with Blake. Looks like he'll get his
threesome this weekend after all." Lance and Parker
laughed, throwing glances my way.

I smiled back at the two, licking the cheese crumbs
from my fingers. "What's the big deal about a
threesome anyway? It would seem to me like somebody
would get cheated a little."  

I watched Parker and Lance exchange a look. Lance
grabbed two beers from the fridge. "It works out."  He
snorted, guzzling several sips from one can.  His eyes
never left me or my body.

I shrugged, taking the other beer from Lance. "So,
like, how exactly does it work?" I wasn't afraid to
ask. I was curious and not exactly sober enough to be
embarrassed.  

"You mean, you've never?" Parker asked. "I mean, with
friends like Tracy and Jan, I woulda thought it
happened once or twice."

"You mean, me, Jan and Tracy? Ewwww," I sneered.

"No, but maybe two of y'all and some guy, like that
Andy guy Jan used to date from the other school," 
Parker replied.

"Hell no. Not with me anyway." I chugged the beer.

"Have you ever thought about doing it?" Lance asked,
elbowing me in the ribs.

"I don't know. I guess I haven't really thought about
it."

"Drink up, Torie." He clinked his beer can against
mine.

At that point I knew something was going to happen
between the three of us. I still wasn't too sure of
the logistics of everything but I knew it was going to
happen. I didn't care. I finished my beer and let
Lance take my hand.  

He led me into the bedroom I had just left. Parker
closed the door behind the three of us. Lance leaned
in and kissed me. His mouth was cold and his breath
smelled like beer. I kissed him back. I felt Parker
close in behind me, easing the football jersey over my
shoulders. I leaned back against Parker, feeling his
naked chest against my bare back and bottom. Lance
leaned forward and took one of my nipples in his mouth
and began to suck. His sucking was frenzied, his head
moving quickly back and forth between both nipples.
Parker's hands were on my hips, fingers splayed and
reaching around to my pussy. His fingers played with
what little hair remained after all the shaving and
trimming I did to be bikini ready. I felt one of his
long fingers slip between my slit, rubbing lightly back
and forth over my sensitive clit. I leaned back into
him, opening up a little more for him. Lance backed
away for a moment to strip off his trunks. I couldn't
take my eyes off of his dick as Parker continued to
play me.  

Parker sat down on the bed, dragging me with him on his
lap. I leaned my head against his shoulder as he
continued to finger me. Lance was stroking himself up
and down. I watched the head of his penis disappear
again and again into his cupped palm. 

Parker moved more, pulling me up into the middle of the
bed. I wasn't leaning against him anymore but I knew
he was there. My attention was riveted on Lance as he
loomed over me.  

"Turn over, on your hands and knees. Face Parker," 
Lance told me. His eyes were bloodshot.  I nodded and 
did as he said, curious as to what he wanted to do but
also knowing I was being shifted to make use of all my
natural born abilities or would that be orifices?  

I sat back on my legs and twisted around. I crouched
on my hands and knees and faced Parker. He had taken
off his trunks, nursing an erection. He smiled at me,
only a little. I felt Lance behind me closing in. His
hands smoothed over my hips and ass and down my thighs. 
They edged around to the inside of my thighs and
traveled up, barely brushing against the sparse hair
dusting my still modest sex. I felt him gently pull my
legs apart, exposing and opening my pussy to his view. 
"Shit, baby.  What a view."  Lance hissed from behind
me. 

Lance didn't waste any more time admiring my body
because the next thing I felt was the weight of him
pushing against my open cunt and entering me. I cried
out with the feeling of him filling me. This made
Parker's penis flinch in reaction. I noticed this
because I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I wanted to
taste him, feel him inside my mouth. I wasn't very
experienced when it came to oral sex but I knew without
a doubt that I was curious as to how I could make him
react. I reached out one of my hands and wrapped it
around his cock. His eyes closed. He edged closer to
me, close enough for his hips to be under my chin. My
mouth closed in on him. I tasted the tip first, feeling
around with my tongue. My lips formed a little suction
as I sucked for a moment. A salty taste tantalized my
tongue. I eased down further, taking another inch or
two of him into my mouth. I felt his penis knock up
against the back of my throat. I stopped, relaxed and
took a deep breath. I didn't want to gag. Meanwhile,
Lance was banging away at me from the rear. It made my
enthusiastic blow job a little jerky but Parker didn't
seem to mind. His hips began to move against the
mattress pushing up against me for a stroke and then
back down. Up and then down. I kept the pressure on his
penis with my mouth, stopping occasionally to slurp up
some of my saliva dripping down his shaft. Finally I
wrapped my hand around the base of his rod and began
to pump, at the same time my mouth sucked furiously. I
could tell from Lance's grunts and groans behind me
that he was close to coming and from the tension I felt
in Parker, he could be close too.

With one last grunt Lance pushed himself deep against
me and held his position. I felt more than anything
else, the way his penis jerked around inside my vagina.
Parker put his hand on my face and pushed gently. "I'm
going to come, Torie...oh..." I released my grip on
him, feeling him fall from my mouth at almost the same
moment thick streams of semen began to spurt from his
penis. Some got in my hair and on my face but mostly it
stuck to my neck. Parker fell back on the bed,
breathing heavily. Lance pulled out and fell to the
side of me. I wiped at my face and neck with the
bedspread. I didn't have an orgasm. I suppose it was
because I was concentrating too hard on getting Parker
off and not on what was going on. I decided at that
point that the threesome wasn't exactly my thing. I
preferred one on one.

Parker lifted his head from the pillow and stared down
at me. I was still crouched over his hips but sitting
back against his shins. "Are you okay, Torie?"

"Yeah. Just need something to drink."

"I'll get it," Lance said, still breathing a little
louder than normal. He hobbled from the room, still
naked.

I crawled up and lay beside Parker, snuggling against
his side. Lance came back in with another beer. "Here."
He handed me a beer, already slurping down one of his
own.  He didn't spend a second looking at me, just
began rummaging around on the floor for his shorts,
finally finding them among the mess. "I'm gonna go for
a swim. Ya'll want to come along?"

I sipped my beer, this time downing about half. "No
thanks. I want to crash for a while." I said, wiping
at my face with the back of my hand. I felt sticky in
spots but I could wait to swim a little later.

"Me too," Parker answered pulling the bedspread up to
cover both of us. I snuggled back against Parker's
naked body and quickly feel asleep.  

I woke up to the feel of Parker's body still against my
back, his penis prodding into my backside. I'm not
sure how long we slept but apparently long enough for
him to recover from his recent sexual escapade. I
wriggled back against him suddenly feeling very daring. 
The sun was barely up and the room had an eery gray-
blue glow. Everything was quiet in and around the
house. It led me to believe the others had found a
place to crash. 

I looked over the edge of the bed to check for
visitors. It took me a while to focus in the half-dark
and determine that the rumpled piles of shorts, t-
shirts and bed sheets did not conceal any of our
friends. I rolled over and turned towards Parker. 
"I've got to go pee."

Parker laughed and slapped my butt as I crawled out of
bed. I hurried to the adjoining bathroom and urinated,
only slightly embarrassed that he could hear me. I
flushed and washed up a little before heading back to
the cozy bed.

Parker nuzzled into my neck, still groggy from sleep. 
I was wide awake and feeling playful. I slid one leg
over his thighs, gradually drifting higher until I had
successfully opened my legs up enough for his
exploration. In the meantime I enjoyed feeling up his
penis, and it was obviously happy to see me.  

There's something about that feeling of being openly
exposed yet the one seemingly in control of the
situation that excites me more than anything. In a
matter of moments I felt the desire building inside of
me. I touched myself and felt the wetness. I turned
my attention back to Parker and guided his penis near
my opening. At that point I clearly remember pushing
up enough to slip across him, straddling his hips. In
one fluid movement he was settled inside of me. We
rocked together for quite a while that morning. I know
he came and I, blessedly, came at the same moment.  

We spent the next half an hour or so playing around in
bed.  We kissed, lightly and playfully, and then
deeper, sucking on each other's tongues.  Parker felt
up my pussy, tickling my clit before sliding one finger
inside me.  I wriggled on top of his hand.  He inserted
another finger.  Soon I was riding his fingers, humping
his hand to a body-shaking orgasm.  I kept pressure on
his penis with my thigh, rocking against it during my
desperate ride, groaning in satisfaction as he came
once again on my leg and belly.  Finally we left the
bedroom in our swimsuits but lost them somewhere
between the lake and the picnic table.  

By Sunday evening we were packed up and ready to leave. 
Tracy and I made one last sweep over the lake house to
make sure we didn't leave the place in a mess. Jan
followed us with a trash bag to gather the leftover
beer cans, bottles and ashtrays. Before nightfall we
had loaded up the last of our bags, including the
trash, locked the doors and said our goodbyes. We left
it at "I'll call you," just one of those things friends
say to each other even when they suspect they may never
remember to do so. The guys went in their direction,
Jan, Tracy and I went in ours.  

I didn't talk too much to Tracy since she left for
vacation with her family. They always took their RV
and traveled for a couple of weeks camping out. Jan
spent the week after we returned getting her things
ready for college. Her parents brought her up to Texas
Tech the following week.

As for me, I had six weeks off before I needed to pick
up my schedule at the local college. I spent that time
doing nothing. I had grown lazy, sleeping until nearly
noon everyday.  Sometimes I didn't even have the energy
to clean the house for my mom.  Many times I would rush
around at the last possible minute straightening up,
simply because I couldn't manage to get out of bed for
longer than a half an hour before the cool comfort of
the sheets called me back.  I figured I was just coming
down with a cold or the flu.  Nearly a month had
passed, six weeks after my last period, before I
realized I had skipped my period. College started in
two weeks and my period was over ten days late.

I scrounged together some of the money I had left after
spending most of my graduation money on my first
semester and bought a pregnancy test at the drug store.
My hands were shaking as I tried to follow the
directions inside the package. I must have reread them
ten times before going through with the whole process. 
The test was positive.

I cried for two hours. I was so afraid of how my mother
would react but mostly I was afraid of what would
happen next. How was I going to take care of a baby? I
was immature in so many ways. I was an only child. I
never had children around me much. All my cousins were
much older than me and I never really took babysitting
jobs with kids younger than four. I had never even
changed a diaper. It pains me to remember that day but
I even considered trying to fall down the stairs on
purpose, just so I could maybe lose the pregnancy on
accident. I stood at the top of the stairs, my hand on
the banister and tried to decide how to fall. Do I
overstep the next step and slide, eventually rolling
down the next twenty or so carpeted steps? Should I
just step off backwards, completely losing my bearings?
What if I just lay down on the landing and threw my
weight down onto the next step, allowing momentum to
roll me the rest of the way? I stood there, crying and
thinking, holding on to my belly, knowing I just
couldn't go through with it. I decided then and there
that the baby was mine and that was the end. I would
take care of myself because if I didn't he or she would
suffer for it. I may not have been a National Honor
Society scholar but I wasn't dumb. I could get a job
and support us. I wasn't ever going to admit what I had
done over graduation weekend and drag one of those boys
into a relationship with me. 

I walked carefully down those stairs, gripping tightly
to the banister. I wasn't going to fall now. I found
my way into the kitchen, blinded by my tears, and
pulled a glass from the dishwasher. I jerked open the 
refrigerator and filled the glass with milk. I sat at
the kitchen table, waiting for my mother to come home
from work. Taking care of us would begin now. It took
me two hours but I choked down that glass of milk just
as my mother was walking through the door.

Her face grew concerned immediately. Fresh tears
streamed down my cheeks as I told her the news. She
was angry, angry with me and angry at the lie I sat
there for two hours constructing in my head. We
argued, fought and cried, eventually coming to an
understanding of sorts. I had my choices and if I
chose to keep the baby I would be fully responsible for
our lives. If my mother thought I couldn't handle the
situation she had a friend in social services that I
could talk to about adoption or maybe even foster care. 
My mother wasn't going to commit herself to raising my
child. Sure, she would help occasionally but she made
it perfectly clear that this was my child. I felt
bitter at first and then I realized exactly what she
was doing. She was forcing me to make a choice and to
live the best way with my choice. She also knew how
horrified I was at the idea of my child being taken
from me. I can say now that that is what prompted me
to work so hard to give my son a good home, single or
not.

That night, fired up by my new convictions, I scanned
the want-ads of the local paper. I was able to get a
partial refund on my books and classes I had registered
for at the university, giving me a bank account with a
whopping balance of $650.00. I didn't let that deter
me. I scheduled interviews with banks, grocery stores
and several of the shops at the local mall. I made it
clear during my interview that I was expecting a baby
and would need maternity leave. I said this with my
chin lifted and a defiant set to my expression, daring
anyone to flinch or even blink the wrong way. No one
did but I still wasn't hired. It wasn't until Mr.
Mayes and Lucky's Restaurant that my luck changed.  

* * *

I owed Mr. Mayes a lot and I knew it couldn't possibly
be his fault, but I couldn't go back to work for him
after being shot during the attempted robbery.

I spent most of the night reminiscing. A nurse checked
on me occasionally, clucking her tongue in sympathy. 
She commented more than once that I should try to get
some rest. I was too keyed-up to sleep, I wanted to
tell her. Instead I just looked at her and nodded,
still lost in my thoughts.

Mother got Scotty off to school that morning. She kept
a few changes of clothes for him at her house. His
room at my mother's house used to be my old bedroom. 
He loved sleeping in there, discovering my collection
of stuffed animals Mother still kept clean and dust-
free. She let him bring one of them to school this
morning, tucked into his backpack and away from the
other children. She thought it would make him feel
better. My mother was thoughtful that way.

My doctor released me that afternoon with a few
prescriptions and strict orders to keep my arm immobile
and propped up on occasion. I wouldn't be able to go
back to work for another week. Of course my employers
understood perfectly.  Mother stood by my side running
her fingers through my hair, the way she used to do
when I was a little girl.  

I studied my mother's face as she settled me into her
car.  She was still a beautiful lady, age had only
strengthened her.  Her eyes were still a vivid blue,
wrinkled and wise.  Her hands were delicate but strong. 
She leaned across me to buckle my seat belt, just like
I was a child.  I smelled her perfume, 'Linen'.  That
scent is my mother, always and forever.  I inhaled
again, reaching up to hug my mother's neck.  She patted
my arm, kissing my cheek.  


"Mr. Mayes called this morning. He's terribly worried
and upset. He's already taken care of the hospital
bill," Mother said later as she drove me back to my
apartment. "Honey, did you hear me?" Mother reached
over and patted my leg as she drove. "It'll be alright
dear. You're a tough young lady, you've proven that
more times than most girls your age. We'll get through
this."

I knew she was referring to that time eight years ago
when I lied to her about the rape. I started crying
quietly. Mother pulled into my apartment complex and
stopped the car, reaching over to pull me into her
arms. I began to sob uncontrollably. She rocked me
quietly in her arms, just like I would rock Scotty if
he were hurt or upset. "Mother, I need to tell you
something," I began. The rest of the story poured out
right there in the front seat of her Toyota Camry.  

I don't know what I was expecting -  maybe that she
would have a hissy fit and disown me and Scotty. Now I
see that was absurd and I even wondered at her calm
reaction. In the end she said she understood and she
would do all she could to help me settle this thing. I
felt an eight year load being gradually pried from my
shoulders.

A few days later Parker called. He wanted to speak to
me about a few things, mainly to do with getting in
touch with Blake's family and with Lance. I agreed to
meet him at a park near my apartment, a place Scotty
liked to play.

We greeted each other with a smile, he shook Scotty's
hand, which impressed Scotty tremendously. "Scotty,
isn't that Brad over there by the sandbox?" I asked.  

Scotty looked over his shoulder and took off towards
his friend, leaving us alone.

"How's your arm?" Parker asked, looking me up and down. 
 
"It's getting better. The doctor said I should be able
to go back to work tomorrow, no typing though. I'll be
glad to have something to do, if you want to know the
truth. The day just drags on too long when I'm sitting
at home staring at the walls, thinking . . ." I
trailed off.  I pulled self-consciously at the hem of
my white shorts.  I tilted my head up to look at Parker
from under the brim of my baseball cap.  I smiled and
shrugged uncomfortably.

"About that," Parker began. "I spoke with Blake's mom
and dad. They're all but ready to set the test up right
now if you say the word. I told them a little bit about
what was going on. I hope you're not mad at me, but I
figured, since I know them so well, that it would be
alright to mention it to them. They handled it well.
Considering."

I nodded. "Thanks. I would like to meet them myself
eventually, you know, if the test shows anything
on Blake's behalf. I can't let them meet Scotty yet. I
mean, that would be way too premature." I played
nervously with the pony tail sticking through the hole
of my baseball cap.  I was suddenly sweating. "This is
really tough, Parker. But I guess you realize that. I
spoke to my pediatrician.  She can do Scotty's part of
the test in the office. At least take the DNA sample
that needs to be sent to the lab. Scotty is due for a
check-up anyway so we'll take care of it next week."

"Okay, good. Things are moving along then," Parker
commented. He looked out at Scotty and watched him
play for a few minutes. "How long did she say the test
results would take?"

"Six weeks."

"Hmmmm. I wish it could be sooner."

"Did you go to the lab yet?" I asked, examining his
profile. A muscle worked in his jaw and his
eyes narrowed slightly.  

"There's no point." He looked at me for a moment before
turning away. "I can't father a child, Torie, I told
you that." He slumped back against the bench, leaning
his head back into his fingers meshed at the base of
his neck. He stretched, his elbow nearly brushing my
cheek.

"Could be, Parker. Don't you think it's worth a shot?"

"Torie, I went through so much crap with the fertility
specialist. I was tested less than four years ago
and at that time I didn't have a sperm count. What
could have been different eight years ago? This, as my
doctor mentioned at the time, was just one of those
things." He huffed in disgust. "Believe me, if I
thought there was a possibility I would be first in
line tomorrow."

"Do you really mean that?"  I suddenly felt angry, a
little compelled to be sarcastic.  "I mean, I suddenly
run into you after eight years. Eight years is a hell
of a long time for people to change. I don't know all
that much about you, Parker. For all I know you have
five kids somewhere and you're trying to get out of
supporting another one. How the hell do I really know?"
My voice was raised enough for the woman on the next
bench over to hear. She glanced at us and went back to
her magazine. I lowered my voice to a hiss. "How would
I really know anything about you?"

Parker turned on me, his eyes flashing angrily. "You
could ask Karen if you don't believe me. Ask her, she
knows all the sordid details. I'm sure she would be
glad to fill you in." He leaned forward, his forearms
on his knees and continued to watch my son. He ran his
hand through his short hair "I'll do it, though, just
to prove it to you once and for all." He breathed
deeply, turning his attention back to me after exhaling
loudly. "I'll do it for you, Torie."

I watched him a moment, unsure of myself and all the
emotions boiling through me. "I'm sorry, Parker, if it
sounds like I'm doubting you. This is a tough
situation, and I've made it tougher by waiting so long. 
Please forgive me." I put my hand on his back.  

"It's alright. I get a little bent out of shape over
the whole ordeal. I hate doctors and labs. Had enough
of them over the years. But I'll do it tomorrow."

"Thank you."

"Lance could be a problem. I've tried calling him
several times today. I left at least six messages. 
Once when I called his office his secretary told me he
wasn't in. That was after she asked who was calling. 
I distinctly heard Lance talking in the background. 
I'm not sure how we can get him to meet with you."  

"That's alright, let me worry about Lance. You've done
a lot already. I'm grateful. If push comes to shove
I'll threaten Lance with an attorney. But I have a
feeling I know how to get his attention and that would
involve his wife," I said thoughtfully.

"You be careful when dealing with the Cunninghams. 
In fact, I think it's best if you leave Christy out of
it completely. She doesn't have to know unless the
test comes back positive anyway."  

I thought about what Parker said for a moment. True, I
didn't need to involve Christy at all, only if Lance
wouldn't fulfill his responsibilities if he, in fact,
was Scotty's father. I hoped that he was not. "Look,
I'll stop by his office tomorrow and surprise him. He
can hardly turn me away."

"Let me know how that goes. Call me tomorrow, okay?" 
He reached out and touched my arm.

"I will." I smiled up at him.

"Tell Scotty I'll see him later. Don't forget about
that pony at my house. Maybe this weekend we can get
together."

"That would be nice. Sure." I looked back at Scotty. 
He was content with his friend, building roads and
hills in the sandbox for their cars. Would that be
considered a date?

The next morning I sent Scotty off to school with his
usual hug and kiss. Again I tucked a few cookies into
his backpack. 

I finished getting ready for my meeting with Lance
paying close attention to my appearance. I don't really
know why I wanted to look nice for Lance. The only
reason I could come up with was I didn't want him to
find a reason to pity me in any way.  

By the time I reached Lance's office building I had
chewed off my lipstick and worried a knot in my
stomach. I touched up my lipstick in the rearview
mirror wondering at the last minute if I should turn
around, go home and let an attorney handle this
situation. I decided to stick it out and face Lance
myself. Besides, if I could avoid attorney's fees it
would actually save my budget for the year.  

The marquis in the lobby listed Lance's office on the
third floor, a suite of offices with the name
Cunningham conspicuously monopolizing the space. I
wasn't sure what Lance did for a living but I felt sure
he could thank his father-in-law for his prosperity. 
The Cunninghams were a well-known family and their
wealth was constantly talked about in the social column
of the local newspaper. Still, I couldn't help but
wonder what exactly Lance found so attractive in
Christy. She was so mean, nasty and materialistic. 
She could never possibly give anything of herself and
in truth I couldn't see Lance as the type that would
put up with someone like her.  But maybe I didn't know
Lance like I thought I did.  There always was a selfish
side to Lance, an aspect that bred wariness when he was
around me.  

I walked through the double glass doors leading to the
reception area. An attractive woman in a clean cut
black suit and a blond chignon smiled up at me. "May I
help you?"  

I looked over her shoulder.  A man, husky and blond,
was walking down the hall in our direction.  He was
tanned with a slight redness in his cheeks.  The
redness reminded me of the look my grandpa used to get
when he had too much to drink.  His eyes, small and
bright blue, glanced my way.  He paused in his step,
reluctant to continue.  He had no where to hide, no
where to go but forward.  It was Lance.  "Ah, there he
is! Actually, no. Lance is an old friend I must speak
with..." I said all this with a false air of authority
about me, like I had every reason to barge past her and
into the path of Lance.

"How are you, Lance?" I said to him when I stepped in
front of him. The receptionist was behind me, her
hands on her hips. Lance studied me for a few seconds.  

"Shall I call security?" The receptionist asked.  

Lance glanced at her, his eyes falling back to me. He
shook his head. "That won't be necessary, Charlene." He
smiled sardonically, glancing over his shoulder. "What
brings you here. Torie? I must say it's a terrific
surprise to run into you after all these years. Come. 
Let's talk in my office."

I nodded, following him down the carpeted hallway. He
had a nice office decorated in classic Chippendale
style. I settled uncomfortably in a leather chair near
the window. "It's good to finally run into you, Lance."

He sat on the edge of his desk in front of me. "Why do
I get the feeling you want something? Donations and
such for organizations are handled through the
accounting department. If you wish to inquire as to
whether Cunningham and Associates would purchase a
sponsorship, my secretary can give you a form to fill
out --."

"I need you to take a paternity test," I said quickly,
cutting him off. I felt the heat rise to my face, a
trickle of sweat dripping between my breasts. I
counted the seconds he stared at me, not breaking my
gaze from him. "I'm serious."

"I don't doubt that you are, Torie. I'm just wondering
why me." He stood up and walked behind his desk,
settling his stout frame into the chair. He tilted back
in the chair and watched me.

"Because you could be his father. Don't tell me you
don't remember?" I stared at his blank expression. 
"Graduation weekend, eight years ago. The lake house." 
I re-crossed my legs and huffed in aggravation. "My son
deserves to know his father and you are one of the
three, as if you don't remember. Don't pretend with
me, Lance." I leaned forward closer to his face. 
"Let's just put it this way. I know it could be you,
Parker knows it could be you and I have the law on my
side. You need to report to this clinic -- " I placed
the business card from the lab in front of him " --
within four days or my attorney will serve you with
papers at your residence. I don't think you want that. 
Now, we can keep this from your wife if you cooperate
or I will be forced to drag her into this, something I
don't want to do. Besides, there's only a one in three
chance that you are Scotty's father." I sat back in my
chair, breathing heavily.

Lance blinked and looked away. "Why are you doing this
to me?"

"It's not about you."

He slammed his hand down on his desk, eyeing me with
murderous intent. "You have no right coming in here
after all these years and asking me to play daddy. I
have two children of my own, a life I enjoy. You could
ruin so much with your little game."

"Game? The life of a child is a game to you? You
pompous bastard." I stood to go. "You will be hearing
from my attorney." I turned towards the door.

"Wait."

I paused, my back still to him. I was seething with
rage, I wanted to cry out. I wanted to hit him. 
"What?"

"How much do you want? We can make some kind of
financial arrangement, that way you can go on with your
life and --"

"What the fuck are you suggesting? I sell my son's
rights?" I strode back to his desk, planting my hands
on his blotter and leaned in close. "Get this
straight, I don't want you to be Scotty's father any
more than you want to be either. Still, the fact
remains that there is a man in this world who took it
upon himself to help create a child and it's about damn
time that man stepped up to his responsibility." 

Lance fingered the card. "Alright. I suppose I need
to find out the facts before I make any decisions."

I stood up, crossing my arms over my chest. I winced at
the pains in my injured arm, cursing the fact that my
vanity didn't allow me to where the sling today.  I
didn't want him to ask any questions.  Lance was
trying to turn this into some kind of power play. It
wasn't going to work. "You have four days. After that
my attorney visits the Cunningham estate." I marched
from his office, slamming the door behind me. The
receptionist pursed her lips and frowned. I threw her
a look and slammed past the doors.

I was shaking with rage. I fell into my car, turned
the engine over and began to cry. How horrible he had
become. Please, I prayed, please don't let Scotty's
father be that man.

I left a message with Parker's service as soon as I got
home.  He called me thirty minutes later from his cell
phone.  

"Was it bad?"  He asked.

"Horrible.  I had no idea he was such a bastard," I
said.  

"Lance's priorities have always been pretty self-
centered.  I'm sorry you had to see that today." 

"I don't know if he'll show up.  I'm not sure if I
should find an attorney now or if I should just wait. 
I just don't know what to do." 

"Look, I'm in your neighborhood.  I don't have another
meeting for another two hours.  Can I come by?"  Parker
asked before adding.  "I'll bring lunch."

"No.  I mean, don't bring lunch.  Let me make you
lunch,"  I laughed nervously.  "Yeah, come by and I'll
fix lunch for you.  I could use the company."  I gave
Parker directions to my apartment and then hurriedly
scrounged through my refrigerator and pantry for the
ingredients for an impressive lunch.

Thirty minutes later Parker knocked on my door, just as
I was putting the finishing touches on a pasta salad
and fresh fruit.  I grabbed a dishtowel, wiping my
hands as I opened my door to him.  He was turned away
from me for the briefest second.  In that second I
realized I felt attracted to him again.  His profile
was virile and strong and when he turned to smile at me
I felt a tug at my heart.  He pushed a hand through his
short hair before stepping into my home. 

"You're dressed up today," Parker commented.  

I shrugged, looking down at my cream-colored skirt and
peach silk blouse.  "I dress like this all the time." 
I winked at him.  

"Where's your sling?  Shouldn't you be wearing it
still?"

"I'll put it on in a minute."  I started to set the
table.  Parker came up behind me in my small kitchen.

"Nuh uh, lady, let me do that."  Parker nudged me aside
and grabbed some dishes and silverware.  I was
embarrassed for him to see my sparse utensils.  He dug
around the drawer, passing up a Batman crazy straw,
plastic forks and spoons to finally find two matching
forks. "Do you want the jet fighter spoon or can I use
it?"  He laughed.  I laughed with him.

"I used it this morning.  It's your turn."  We both
giggled as he set the table, placing the salad and
plate of fruit in the center of my small dining table. 
I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of
ice tea.

He took it from me with a frown.  "Sit down and tell me
where that sling is."  

I smiled and sat down.  My arm was hurting but I was
trying to hold off on taking any of the pain medication
since it made me groggy.  "In my bedroom on my
dresser."  Parker pointed at an open door off the
living room.  I nodded.  

He knelt in front of me with the sling, carefully
lifting it over my head and settling it on my
shoulders. His hand ran up the back of my neck, pushing
my hair back over the neck band of the sling. 
Carefully he slid my arm into the sling.  I took the
opportunity to study him once again.  

His brow was slightly creased, with concern or worry. 
I resisted the urge to run my fingers over his tanned
skin.  His lashes were long and dark, veiling his blue
eyes from me.  His eyes took me in slowly before
drifting back up to my face.  I blushed.  He smiled
thinly, as if to apologize for being caught examining
me.  "Thank you," I said.

We talked through lunch.  I told him of my experience
that morning with Lance.  He told me a few stories of
his own about Lance.  I realized that maybe I was
treated better than most while in Lance's domain but my
fears regarding Lance's paternity increased threefold. 
How could I possibly bring that bastard into my son's
life?  If . . . 

Parker cleared the table, rinsing the dishes off in the
sink.  He turned to look at me.  I looked back
expectantly.  His look worried me.  "Torie, I wanted to
tell you something.  It's about Blake."  

I took a deep breath, feeling the muscles in my belly
and chest constrict.  "What happened?"

"His family has decided to take him off of life support
sometimes this evening.  I'm going to be there.  I
thought that if you wanted to see Blake, today would be
your last time.  His brain stopped functioning a long
time ago.  They were still holding out for a miracle. 
It's too late for that."  Parker sat down next to me,
rubbing my back.  I should be the one comforting him.  

"Now?  Can I go up there now?"  I asked through my
quickly forming tears.  

"I'll take you.  C'mon."  Parker stood, reaching for my
hand.

I had conditioned myself to expect the worst before
walking into Blake's hospital room.  I didn't prepare
myself enough for the sight that faced me.  It was
hard, so hard, to see him lying there.  He didn't even
remotely resemble the man I knew.  I approached his bed
slowly, my eyes trying to find something on his body
that told me it was Blake.  His face was virtually
unrecognizable.  His beautiful brown eyes were forever
swollen shut, the skin on one side burned and scraped
from his ordeal during the accident.  A bandage covered
most of his skull.  I closed my eyes and sat down,
reaching for his hand, the only thing on the man that
wasn't marred by violent death.  I cradled his hand in
my hands, caressing each finger.  I ran my hand up his
arm, now limp with impending death, and remembered how
strong those arms used to be.  I slid my fingers
lightly up the muscle of his bicep, marveling at how 
perfect this part of him remained.  I pushed back the
sleeve of his hospital gown and smiled.  There on his
shoulder was the tattoo of the Tasmanian Devil.  I
remember when he was inked, all of sixteen years old. 
He was so proud of his tattoo, showing it off at
school.  All the kids were impressed.  Taz could have
been his nickname, the way he whirled into our lives. 
I touched the tattoo and smiled, also remembering how
much trouble he got into when his mother found out.  I
kissed the back of his hand, not wanting to break away. 
Tears ran down my face as I rocked with him, murmuring
against his hand, "I'm so sorry.  So sorry."  I cried
for Blake, I cried for his family and I cried for
myself.  But mostly I cried for Scotty, if this man was
indeed his father.  "I should have said something years
ago.  It's all my fault.  This would never have
happened if I had only spoken up . . . " I continued to
cry against him, stopped only by a warm hand on my
shoulder.  I turned to look into the same brown eyes of
Blake in the face of an elderly woman, his mother.  

I was stunned.  I didn't know what to say to this woman
who had lost her own son.  I felt her pain but only
partially.  How could I possibly understand how she
felt?  I stood and walked into her open arms and we
cried.  We cried for a long time, just holding on to
each other. 

Blake was pronounced dead at 7:12 pm that night.  Two
days later I was at his funeral crying as I watched
Parker stoically carry his best friend's coffin to the
family burial plot.  I watched him brush a tear from
his face, wanting to enfold him in my arms and comfort
him.  Maybe later, I told myself.  Let him alone for
now.

The next day I called the lab. Blake's family had
arranged for the saliva sample and blood test to be
taken from Blake the day he died. Parker had also shown
up. Lance had not.  

I waited until later that evening to call Lance at his
home. Fortunately Lance answered the phone. I
honestly don't know what I would have done if anyone
else had picked up the phone at that moment, I only
wanted Lance to understand how serious I felt about
this issue. My voice on the other end of the line
shocked him into submitting to my request, but not
without a healthy dose of name-calling. I really
couldn't afford an attorney and that was the only way I
could think to get him moving.

Lance showed up at the lab the next morning. Now all
we had to do was wait for the results. Six weeks was a
very long time.

During the next few weeks Parker and I visited each
other regularly. I was a little tentative about Scotty
getting to know Parker but in the end my worries were
unfounded. Parker and Scotty got along like buddies. 
Their relationship was different than any other I've
ever witnessed with Scotty. Parker didn't act like a
father-figure or even as an adult with a role of
authority. He acted more like a big brother, a big
brother that could show Scotty new things, introduce
him to new boy-related activities. I could see
immediately how impressed Scotty was in Parker's
presence. I also couldn't help but notice how Parker
enjoyed every minute of his time spent with my son.  

Three years earlier Parker had built a house about
forty minutes outside of town. The two-story house
with its dormer windows and multi-gabled roof sat on
several acres of land, all of it surrounded by a white
fence. He kept a few horses, mostly for other people
since he didn't have much time for riding himself. He
also added a pond stocked with fish. This pond was a
constant source of wonder for Scotty. He found that he
loved to sit and fish, sometimes for longer than an
hour. Keeping Scotty still for an hour was a great
accomplishment. Parker showed him how to bait a hook
and cast his rod far into the center of the pond. 
Scotty's forehead would crease in concentration as he
watched the bright orange and white float bob in the
water, eager for a bite. I'll never forget the moment
he caught his first fish. Parker helped him reel it
in, cheering him on the whole time. Scotty was
squealing with excitement. Parker was too, nearly. 
Scotty hugged Parker around his neck at that point. I
hugged them both. We were almost a happy family.  

Later that night, after Scotty fell asleep in the big
recliner Parker kept in front of the fireplace.  Parker
and I stepped outside to the deck to enjoy the evening. 
I could still see Scotty sleeping contentedly in the
chair as I rocked slowly in the swing, sipping the good
wine Parker just poured for me.  

"What are you feeling right now, Torie?" Parker asked. 
He settled himself in the swing next to me. I turned
and met his eyes. He corrected the motion of the
swing, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I'm feeling happy for once, you know, not worried for
a change. That's been a long time coming." I took a
sip of the cabernet. "I know it will change soon."

Parker nodded. He turned to look out over his backyard.
A horse whinnied in the darkness. "Scotty is such a
great kid. You've done a remarkable job with him, Tor.
I can't help but wonder how you handled it all, being
alone all those years. It had to be tough." He reached
across the short distance between us and held my hand.

Lightly I squeezed his finger, slowly rubbing my thumb
back and forth over his hand. "Fear kept me motivated. 
And love. Nothing was going to take my child from me,
once I got used to the idea I was going to become a
mother." A tear rolled down my cheek followed by
another and then another. Parker watched me for a
moment before placing his wine glass on a side table. 
He pulled me into the crook of his arm and held me.  

"Now what are you feeling? You can tell me."

I continued to cry quietly, not sure how to begin. 
"I've started to realize how selfish I've been. Seven,
eight years is such a long time to do this alone. I
didn't have to. And the worst part of it is I deprived
someone of the feeling of being a father." At this
point I couldn't continue. Those thoughts had been
plaguing me these last few weeks, especially when I
watched Parker and my son interact. How different
things could have been if only I had taken the
initiative and found his daddy early on. "Scotty is
thriving under the attention you've been giving him..."

"Torie, come on, you've done a wonderful job with him. 
Don't kick yourself about the decisions you've made."

"What about Blake? What if he had known? Would he
have been so reckless? He might be fishing with
Scotty. I can't help but wonder if I could have
indirectly prevented that accident."

"How?"

"By facing this a long time ago. People change when
they become parents. If Blake is the father, if he
would have known he was the father, he might not have
taken the chances he did with his life."  

Parker grew silent. "What about Lance?"

I huffed sarcastically. "I honestly don't know about
Lance. Maybe he would be a better person. I can't
help but think he married that woman to be closer to
her trust fund. But then that sounds like sour grapes. 
I really don't know what happened to Lance."

"He's always been a little self-centered." Parker kept
rubbing his hand up and down my arm. I leaned in
closer to his chest, laying my head down on the warm
expanse of him. "Lance knew what he was doing when he
became involved with Christy."

My hair drifted across my face. Parker had pulled the
elastic band holding my hair up in a pony tail. Now it
hung wild and messy around my head. "What about you?" 
I asked.

"We would have been married, raising Scotty together. 
No question in my mind." Parker said, matter-of-
factly.

A fresh crop of tears streamed down my face. Parker
lifted my chin and stared into my eyes. He wiped at
the tears with his other hand, stopping to kiss me
softly on the lips. I felt a current surge through me,
at the moment his lips had touched mine.

He leaned in to kiss me again, this time with more
urgency.  I kissed him back, so wantonly, our tongues
mingling and fighting each other.  I felt the familiar
pull deep down between my legs.  I wanted this man.  He
pulled me in closer, dipping me farther back against
the swing until he was nearly on top of me.  My hands
explored his shoulders, neck and the nape of his hair,
a spot I found to be so sexy.  I dug my fingers into
his scalp, scratching lightly as we kissed.  I felt him
nudge against me, his erection apparent. 

"Parker, I want to be with you," I murmured against his
ear.  I sucked in the downy lobe, feeling it between my
teeth.  My tongue explored the shell of his ear.

Parker pulled back slowly, smoothing his hand over my
hair.  His eyes wandered back to where Scotty slept in
his chair.  "We'll have to plan it a little better next
time."  He kissed me again, this time a little softer
and cooler, easing me back up in the swing.  His hand
continued to play with my hair, drifting over and
around my cheek, touching my eyelashes and brow.  I
leaned back and took a deep breath, giving in to his
touch.

"You're right."  I made an effort to quiet my breathing
and reduce the throb between my legs.  Parker handed me
my wine glass.  At that moment all I wanted to do was
pour the contents of the glass in my lap, thereby
hopefully extinguishing the fire he started.  Instead I
politely sipped from the glass.

"It's late.  Why don't you and Scotty sleep in my extra
bedroom?  I'm sure I can dig up a shirt of mine for you
to wear and an extra toothbrush.  That way we can have
breakfast and then I'll drive you two back home when
we're better rested."  

I looked up at him and smiled.  "Oh, I see what you're
trying to do.  You want to know beforehand what I look
like in the morning before you take the next step."  I
laughed, tickling at his ribs.  He jumped back,
sloshing red wine across the front of my shirt.

He laughed.  His laugh was contagious.  It had been a
while.  "Now look what you've done.  You'll have to
take that shirt off and wash it before that stain
sets," Parker said.

"The 'stain sets?'  Oooh, Parker, so domesticated.  I'd
love to see all the stain-fighting gadgets you have in
your laundry room."  I continued to tickle him, not
concerned about my shirt.  Parker started to tickle me
back and I was enjoying it.  His hands brushed against
the sides of my breasts as we played, arousing me once
again.  I arched up against him, giggling in his ear. 
He pushed back against my neck with his chin, drawing
more ticklish giggles from me.  His chin was slightly
rough with whiskers.  He continued to rub them over my
chin and collarbone just to make me squirm even more. I
did and I was enjoying every minute of it.  

With a sudden jerk of the swing I felt myself being
lifted up and over his broad shoulders.  He was
carrying me like he would a sack of oats for the
horses, thrown over his shoulders with my head down
near his waist.  I felt him slap my rear, rubbing my
curves after each friendly assault.  I wiggled in his
arms.  He slapped my rear again, I pinched his.  He
jumped, we both giggled.  "Shhhhh, you're going to wake
everyone up," he said.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Where you won't be a nuisance to that boy's peaceful
sleep."  Parker dumped me in the soft grass far from
the house near a grouping of pear trees. The grass was
soft and damp, no roots from the trees prodded into my
body.  I leaned back.  I could see the warm glow of the
living room from where we were, content that I would
see if my son woke up or needed anything.  

"He's fine."  Parker kissed my neck, his lips and
tongue sketching a hot path down to my chest.  My
shirt, still wet from the spilled wine, hung open at
the neck.  His lips tasted lower.  

I opened my eyes and stared above Parker's head at the
rustling canopy of trees.  The leaves rustled in the
night breeze making room for the stars and moon to
shine down on us.  The velvety darkness encircled us,
creating our own little cozy cave.  The glow from the
glass doors was our nightlight.  I ran my hands through
his short hair feeling him move on top of me.  His
hands were working below my waist through the armor of
my blue jeans.  I wanted to peel them from me but knew
I couldn't.  We were only stealing a few moments
together like this before we had to return.  But soon.
. . 

Parker stiffened above me.  "Damn."  He got up and ran
towards the house.  I leaned up on my elbows,
completely perplexed at his reaction.  I blinked a few
times before I realized the ringing I heard was not
coming from a hidden set of wind chimes tucked away in
the trees but from the telephone inside the house. 
Parker was already through the door by the time I got
to my feet.  

When I walked into the living room Scotty was sitting
up in the chair rubbing his eyes.  "Are we going home?" 
He asked as he held his arms out to me.  I slid down
into the chair next to him and cuddled.

"Parker said we can spend the night.  It's kind of late
so I said that would be okay."  I smoothed back
Scotty's hair from his forehead.  He nodded and buried
himself deeper into my embrace.

"I'm sorry about that," Parker said as he returned to
the living room.  "I left a message with one of my
subcontractors to call me tonight.  I totally forgot."

I nodded and smiled.  "How about you show me where our
room is so that I can settle Scotty in?"

"And get you out of that shirt," Parker said with a
wink.

I returned his smile.  

Parker opened the door to a bedroom fit for a horde of
kids.  Model airplanes hung from the ceiling, model
cars, newer and antique, decorated shelves and the top
of the chest of drawers.  A telescope sat by a window,
forever pointed to the heavens, ready for anyone to
take a look at the magic within the scope.  The bed was
large and decorated with an old quilt.  Baseball
equipment, football gear and golf clubs stood in one
corner.  I recognized Parker's old high school football
jersey thrown across a chair. I turned back the quilt
as Parker entered carrying a sleeping Scotty.  Gently
he laid him in the large bed.  I slipped off Scotty's
shoes and socks, tucking the covers around him.  I went
around to the other side of the bed and turned down the
covers on that side.  I wanted Parker to see that I
intended to sleep here with Scotty, not in his room. 
Parker didn't flinch.  

"Now, about that shirt.  Come with me," Parker said. 
He turned on the closet light and left the door
cracked.  I smiled at his little show of consideration
towards Scotty and the possibility a boogey man or two
might bother him.  Scotty did like to sleep with a
nightlight. 

I followed him into the laundry room and watched as he
pulled one of his many denim shirts from a hanger.  I
stepped into the darkest corner of the laundry room and
turned my back on him, slipping from my shirt and bra. 
I turned slightly to reach for the shirt he was
offering.  I'm sure he was afforded a long glance at my
silhouette.  Parker took my shirt and began to run cold
water over the stain.  I finished buttoning his shirt
and turned towards him as he was wringing the remains
of the water from my shirt.  

"Very cute," he commented.

"Thank you.  I've always liked denim."  I walked over
to where he was fastidiously examining my shirt for
anymore shadows of a stain.  "What a surprise you are,
Parker.  First with dinner, then with that lovely
bedroom and now you're doing my laundry.  How did I get
so lucky," I teased.  I studied his profile.  His smile
produced a little dimple in his cheek, a light
crinkling around his eyes. 

"I thought you might tease me about that bedroom," he
said, hanging my shirt up to dry.  "Most of that stuff
in there came from my mom and dad's old place.  Well,
most of it.  I confess I still like to put together
some model airplanes."

"I think it's wonderful.  Scotty will think he's on
vacation when he wakes up to all that stuff."

"He can come by anytime and play with any of it.  So
can you," Parker said sincerely.

He brushed back a tendril of hair that had drifted
across my cheek, tucking it tenderly behind my ear.  A
shiver ran down my spine when he leaned in and kissed
me softly on my cheek where his fingers just grazed. He
kissed my lips next.  "Get to bed, Torie.  We'll have
our time together.  That is, if you want it as bad as I
do."  

I turned deep crimson.  I don't know why I did at that
time since I'm not given over to blushing very often. 
I hoped I hadn't offended him by turning down the bed
next to my son but I couldn't risk being alone with him
with Scotty in the next room.  What I had in mind would
require a few hours and hopefully a lot of
vocalizations.  "Goodnight, Parker."

Parker, Scotty and I saw each other nearly every day
after that night.  We developed a bond, the three of
us.  Almost like a family, I hoped, but Parker still
kept his distance when it came to giving me advice
about Scotty.  He never once chastised me for punishing
Scotty, his quiet demeanor told me that he supported me
when I had to revoke privileges from my precious child. 
But precious children still get ornery from time to
time and Scotty was no exception.

Scotty was growing increasingly comfortable with
Parker, too.  He went from calling him Mr. Lewiston to
Parker over the weeks.  He knew his way around Parker's
property and once showed Parker a nest of baby rabbits
in one of the pastures.  One rabbit had already been
accidentally trampled by one of the horses.  Scotty was
upset until he and Parker relocated that little family
to a spot Scotty could visit everyday.  He frequently
left carrots and apples for his little family of
rabbits, squealing in delight when he would return the
next day to find his offerings nibbled and munched to 
slivers.

It was during this time that I could almost lose track
of the time that had passed since taking the paternity
test.  I received a call from the lab one afternoon
when Parker had gone with Scotty to the nearby park. 
They were sending a messenger over with the results.

I shook as the messenger handed me the envelopes.  This
was it.  Parker and Scotty were coming through the
parking lot as the messenger turned to leave.  Parker's
face blanched.  I turned back to the sanctuary of our
small apartment and sat at our little kitchen table.  I
looked at the three envelopes, rearranging them,
spacing them out on the formica, trying to decide which
to open first. I was still looking at the sealed
envelopes when Scotty and Parker walked into the room.  

"Scotty, can you go work on that puzzle we started in
your room?  I'll be up in a little while to help you
out.  Your mom and I need to talk about something."  

Scotty looked from me to Parker and shrugged. "Okay."

Parker sat across the table from me, looking at the
envelopes too.  "Which one first?"

"I'll just close my eyes and pick."  I closed my eyes
and reached for an envelope.  I tore it open shakily. 
Parker's eyes moved from my face to the paper I was
unfolding.  I scanned the results, gasping a little.  I
cried out quietly, "Lance is ruled out.  Oh, thank God,
Lance is out of the picture!"  I reached across the
table and squeezed Parker's hand, he squeezed back.

I reached for the second envelope and stopped.  "You
read it, Parker.  It's either you or Blake."

"It's not me," he said again.

"You don't know for certain."  I was still somewhat
hopeful.  

He took the envelope from my hand.  This would tell one
way or the other.  He put the envelope back down on the
table.  "Wait."

I was worried about him.  The tan had faded noticeably
from his face and beads of sweat dotted his brow and
upper lip.  

"I want to say something first," Parker said quietly,
taking both of my hands in his.  "Whatever the results
show I want you to know that I don't want anything to
change between us.  At least not too much."

"Too much?"  I frowned.  I had the feeling I knew what
was going to come next.  He would like to move on, stop
being my crutch and see other women.  Selfishly I had
thought we were developing a beautiful relationship.  I
stiffened, letting my hands fall from his grasp.

He took my hands again.  "Not so fast.  I'm not
finished with you yet, lady."  He kissed my hand.  "The
test results don't matter to me but I understand
completely how they matter to the two of you.  I want
to be in your life, I want a place in your son's life. 
If you will agree, Torie, I'm asking for more of a
commitment from you.  I'm hopelessly in love with you
and I can't get that kid of yours out of my head.  If
you'll have me, I want to make us a real family." 
Parker looked into my wide eyes, startled and moved by
his declaration.  I was speechless.

"Well?"

I heard a little 'yip' from upstairs.  I laughed,
breaking the tension, wiping the tears that were now
streaming down my face.  "I guess that's a yes.  Of
course, I need to talk it over with Scotty first."

"No you don't!" Scotty yelled from upstairs.  I heard
him jumping on his bed, squealing in excitement,
chanting, "Mommy's getting married, Mommy's getting
married . . . "

Parker laughed, "there's our answer Mom."  He pulled me
close.  "But first, let's get this out of the way."

I reached for the envelope and quickly opened it.  Some
of my tension had diminished although I was feeling
jittery from another source.  "Parker.  This is yours. 
You have been ruled out."  I lifted my eyes to Parker
and watched as his hand ruffled his hair.  

"I meant what I said.  It doesn't change a thing
between us.  Now, though, we have some good news to
share with Blake's parents," Parker said before pulling
me close.  I cried a little in his shoulder, out of
happiness, out of lives lost, time lost and a little
disappointment.  He stroked the back of my head,
pausing every now and then to squeeze me tight.  I felt
another presence with us, Scotty had wiggled his way
within our arms and we hugged him close.  But there was
another and I couldn't help but think that maybe he was
happy too, smiling down from wherever he was perched,
wrapping his arms around us, tattoo and all, relaying
that everything will be fine.

***

The guests were settled in their rented chairs under
the expansive canopy of old oak trees in Parker's--our 
backyard.  A white runner ran down the middle of the
aisle and led to a small altar decorated with fragrant
gardenias and ivy.  The backdrop of white picket fence
and a mother horse and her colt added to the perfect
setting.  I never imagined I would have such a
storybook wedding, everything considered.  I still
decided not to wear white or anything long and frilly. 
Scotty was sitting in the front row with his
grandparents, all five of them.  I looked down at the
picture he had given me hours earlier, knowing this
would make the perfect gift for Parker.  In his
childish scrawl he had drawn a picture of himself
surrounded by me (I was the one with the dark hair,
skirt and box of tissues), my mother, Parker on one
side of Scotty and Blake, complete with wings, on the
other side of him.  Parker's parents and Blake's
parents completed the picture as did a few rabbits and
a horse.  But the best part of all was Scotty's
handwritten words above Parker and Blake's picture:
they both were named Dad.  I rolled the picture up and
secured it with a white ribbon.  I was going to hand it
to Parker when I met him at the altar in just a few
minutes.  

I checked my appearance one more time in the mirror. 
My dark hair was swept off my neck and secured with a
wreath of fresh gardenias.  The scent of the fresh
flowers permeated my space, there was no need for
perfume.  My ivory silk sleeveless dress revealed my
tanned limbs, my arm only slightly scarred by the
ordeal that brought Parker and me together again.  The
skirt fit snug against my rear, ending a few inches
above my knee.  I wore a lovely bustier and garter
underneath, the stockings sheerest of sheer, ivory
satin pumps completing the outfit.  I stepped out the
backdoor and started my journey down the aisle, my eyes
never leaving the face of the man I love.  I held
tightly to my bouquet of gardenias and one red rose
picked by my son from the rose bushes in the yard.  I
also held to the picture my son had gifted us with, a
picture that will forever hold a special place in our
home.  I smiled and blinked back the tears when I
remembered the words my wise little boy had said
earlier that morning: "Mom, first it was just me and
you and now we have so much family.  I love them all." 
Smart kid, my boy.

The End

Tell me what you think: VBWrites@aol.com