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From: MichaelD38@aol.com
Subject: RP: {MichaelD} "Sunset on Roses" (mf, teen, rom) (CR305: 10,10,10+) (6/6)
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XI.
We made love, and then she put her sweater back on and walked out the kitchen
to get box of crackers. She came back to bed and I switched on the TV. HBO
was rerunning "Saturday Night Fever," and we watched it as she munched on
Triscuits.
"I don't like to fight with you like that."
"Fighting is communication. It's better that we fight now and then than
never fight at all. My wife and I didn't fight all that much, and we got
divorced."
"We always seem to have better sex after we fight."
"That's not that unusual either. Fighting gets your emotions all charged up.
You're a lot more fun when you get excited."
"And, just for the record, that has nothing to do with my hair, right?"
I kissed her head.
"Whatever you say."
Instead of gardening the next morning, we went out shopping. I had intended
to limit it to a few knick-knacks, but we ended up redecorating half the
house. She bought new pillows and slipcovers for the living room, new sheets
for the bed, and a bunch of assorted pictures and junk to hang on the walls.
Then she talked me into repainting the kitchen from its basic white into a
pastel gingerbread scheme in yellow and mint green. We spent the rest of the
weekend sanding, taping, and painting.
"There," she said when we were done. "That's a kitchen I can live with."
"I guess you're planning on being here a while."
She turned to hug me.
"You're not getting rid of me, sorry."
She moved in just before Christmas, and Marcy and Dennis helped us out. She
had already moved most of her stuff over, so much of it was a formality. When
we were done, we ordered a pizza for dinner.
On the way out, Marcy started crying and hugging Tracey.
"You're just growing up too fast for me."
"Mom, jeez. I won't be that far away."
"You promise you'll call me every night? At least until I get adjusted to
this?"
"Yes, Mom."
Then she hugged me.
"You take care of her, you hear?"
"I'll try. If she lets me."
They got into Dennis's car and drove off as Tracey and I stood and waved.
When they were out of sight, she turned around and looked at the house.
"I remember the first time I came over here. I was thinking, 'What am I
doing? Why am I flirting with some guy who's fifteen years older than me?'
Then I saw this cute little house and everything you'd done with it, and I
thought, 'Wow, this is great. I wouldn't mind living here.' Never would have
thought it was actually going to happen."
"Me neither."
I hugged her from behind, and she held my arms, leaning back against me. She
was quiet for a moment.
"I'm scared."
"What of?"
"This is such a big step. I don't want to ruin what we have."
"It will only happen if we let it."
"Okay."
We went inside, and she wandered back to the bedroom.
"Can we put those new sheets on the bed?"
"Sure."
She dug the bag of new linen out of the closet, and we unwrapped everything.
Then we stripped the old sheets off and stretched out the new. She ran her
hands over the crisp cotton, feeling the creases. Then she leaned back and
began pulling off her clothes.
I almost started laughing.
"What are you doing?"
"I love new sheets. I want to feel them. Come on."
I undressed with her, and we crawled under the covers. She snuggled against
me, giggling and writhing against the new fabric.
"Mmm."
She kissed and nibbled on me.
"We have to christen them. Our sheets."
"Our bed."
"Our house."
It's funny how sappy that looks in black and white, huh?
XII.
We left for Park City the day after Christmas. Tracey had skied with her
parents before her father skipped town with a topless dancer, and had gone up
to Big Bear with her friends most winters since then. I had skied almost
since I could walk, although there had been about a ten-year hiatus when my
family lived in the South. I had gone quite often since then, and my firm
went up to Utah on a ski trip every year.
We had to fly out of LAX, which still wasn't enough to change my mind about
the proposed airport at El Toro, but we got a direct flight. We got in about
seven, and I took a few minutes to savor the clean, icy air as we waited for
the hotel shuttle.
Tracey was bundled up in her ski jacket and a scarf, and looked good enough
to eat. What is it about ski clothes that makes women look so sexy?
"Rachel was drooling about this whole thing. I think she's finally decided
that she's jealous."
"What did she think of those earrings?"
She smiled and played with garnet and diamond earrings I'd given her for
Christmas.
"I didn't show them to her. I didn't want to rub it in."
The shuttle arrived, and we rode it into town to the hotel. We had a suite
at one of the most expensive hotels in town, but that was mainly because I had
thought up this idea too late in the season to have much choice of
accommodations. I would be paying this trip off for a few months, but I
didn't really mind.
We skied ourselves half to death for three days before deciding to take a
break. We walked around town and bought a few souvenirs. Tracey had been
complaining about her boots, so I splurged and bought her a new pair of
Salomons. That necessitated readjusting her battered six-year-old skis, and
before I knew it, I had bought her a new pair of those, too.
"I feel like such the kept woman," she said that night.
"I like buying stuff for you."
"I guess I can't break up with you now. Not until I've worked all this stuff
off."
"Nope."
She rolled over on top of me and pinned me down on the bed. She leaned down
and rubbed noses with me.
"How do you think Eskimos do it when it's this cold?"
"Igloos can get pretty warm from what I hear. I guess they wrap themselves
in bearskins beforehand."
She kissed me for a few seconds.
"Wanna find out?"
"What do you mean?"
"Let's go out in the snow."
"You'll freeze to death."
"No, I won't. I'm very hot right now. Isn't this the sort of feisty thing
redheads are supposed to do?"
"I don't know. I've only dated one of them, and she's not usually this
adventurous."
"Well, her boyfriend has thoroughly corrupted her. Let's go."
She got a blanket from the room closet and rolled it up tightly enough to fit
her backpack. Then, holding hands, we walked out of the hotel and down the
street. It took us a while to find an appropriate spot, and we had to walk up
into the ski area before lying down behind a snow drift under some trees.
"God, it's cold," she giggled.
"Keep your clothes on."
"That may be difficult."
The blanket was king-sized, so we were able to arrange it so we had something
to lie on and still cover us up. We wriggled around, giggling and fondling
each other under our clothes. It was quiet and crisp, and the moon was out,
so I could see her breath fogging the air. She worked her ski pants off, and
pulled open my jeans.
"Come on. My butt is freezing."
I freed myself and rolled on top of her. However cold it was, she was hot as
could be inside. I drove myself into her rapidly, and she clawed at my
buttocks. She grunted and thrashed under me, then we rolled over, and I let
her get on top. The blanket fell back a little, and I arranged it around us
as she rode me. I opened her jacket and fondled her breasts over her
turtleneck.
She shuddered in orgasm after a few minutes, and fell back, rolling over and
pulling me on top of her. I came only a minute later, but it was still enough
time for her to get off again. As soon as it was over, she struggled back
into her clothes.
"Worth it?"
"Yes. But now I'm freezing."
We walked slowly back to the hotel.
"We've been together for almost six months now," she said.
"And I still like you."
"It seems like six years. So much has happened."
"Is that good or bad?"
"It's good. Just amazing, though."
"Yeah."
"You know, I'll tell you something," I said a few minutes later, "and try not
to take this the wrong way."
"Okay."
"The longer we're together, the more I worry about the future."
"Why?"
"When we started going out, I didn't think I was looking for something long
term. I had just gotten divorced; I hurt a lot on the inside; I was ready to
enjoy some freedom for a change. And I thought, she's nice, I bet we'll have
fun, but odds are we'll probably break up after a few months, at the very
least when she goes off to college. Back then, I thought that would probably
be the best for both of us, even if it might hurt a little."
Her forehead was creased, and her lips were pressed tightly together.
"I figured that was okay, because like I said, I wasn't looking for long
term. But now, I've gotten so into you that I think about having you around
for a long time. I don't want to break up with you. I like having you with
me. I love you. And I worry a great deal what's going to happen after you
graduate."
She stopped and took my hands, staring up into my face. She squeezed them
and took a deep breath.
"I worry about that, too. And you know what? I worry all the time that this
may suddenly evaporate, and that you'll wake up one day and realize you want a
woman your own age. I feel like there's so much I can't give you because I'm
not even out of high school yet. I don't want to lose you because of that."
"I don't think that's likely to happen."
"But we don't know, right? We don't know what's going to happen, just like I
don't know what will happen when I go off to school. I mean, I have no
intention of breaking up when I graduate; why else do you think I only applied
to places in Orange County?"
"I know that."
"But I don't know what will happen to me in college, if I'll change somehow,
like you're always telling me how much you changed during those years. That
scares me to death. I love you like I never thought I could love anyone. You
think I don't want to spend my life with you? I do. I wouldn't have moved in
with you otherwise. I just don't know what's going to happen."
"Okay. I'm sorry I brought this up."
"No, no, it's good to get this out in the open. I feel the same way you do.
All I can tell you is that I will try my hardest to make this work, no matter
what happens."
"So will I."
"Okay. Let's go to bed. I'm tired."
We went back to the slopes the next day, and Tracey broke in her new
equipment. The weather was perfect, not too cold, and utterly, brilliantly,
clear as it only can get up in the mountains. She had been quiet the most of
the morning, and I noticed her giving me a lot of long looks as we skied
around.
Near lunchtime, we rode the lift to the top of the mountain, intending to eat
at the lodge at the top. I stopped when we got off the chair and looked down
at the valley and Salt Lake City far below. We were just above the tree line,
or at least they had cut the trees down at this level, and I could see about a
hundred miles away.
Tracey skied up next to me and looked out as well.
"It's pretty."
"Almost as beautiful as you."
She stared at me for a moment, and then took a deep breath.
"Marry me," she said softly.
I don't think I'd ever been as shocked in my entire life. I got a little
light-headed, and couldn't answer her for about five seconds.
"Don't say that unless you mean it," I gasped.
"I'm totally serious. I've been thinking about this since last night. The
next few years are going to be very difficult for us. The only way we can be
certain we'll stay together is if we make a serious commitment. Just
promising to work at it isn't enough. Anyone can do that. Words alone are
worth jack."
"I know."
"And I know you're worried about getting divorced again because I might meet
someone in college or get liberated or God knows what else might happen. This
is the most I can do to promise you that I want to stay with you. There isn't
anything else I can do. It's a promise to myself as much as to you. It's a
promise that I'm not going to let the best thing that ever happened to me get
out of my life just because I may have some maturing left to do."
I tried to catch my breath.
"I can see you've thought this through."
"Do you want to marry me? Forget about what I'm going to do."
"Yes. More than you know."
"I was up a long time last night. The idea popped into my head after our
discussion. Believe me, it shocked me as much as it did you. But I know in
my heart it's the right thing to do. You're the one I want to spend the rest
of my life with."
I looked around at the mountain, and the other skiers. No one was paying the
slightest bit of attention to us.
"I wonder if anyone has ever gotten engaged up here before."
"Probably. It's such a beautiful spot."
"Tracey, listen to me. Getting divorced was the worst experience of my life.
I do not want to go through that again. If we do this, it's for good. You
will not get rid of me."
"What can I say to you besides what I already have? I want to marry you.
What else is there?"
"Okay. Let's do it, then."
She said she had thought hard about it, but I'm not sure the reality of it
hit her until that moment. Joy battled nervousness on her face for a second
or two; then she smiled and hugged me as tightly as she could on her skis. I
was still dizzy, and I wanted desperately to believe this wasn't a mistake.
But she was been right. We couldn't know what would happen. All we could do
was commit ourselves to working on it.
When she let me go, she was crying and laughing at the same time.
"Oh, God. I can't believe we're doing this."
"Everyone we know will freak."
"Except my mom. I have a feeling she saw this coming."
"You think so?"
"She's like that. Not a lot surprises her."
I looked downhill.
"Well, it looks like we have some more shopping to do."
She gripped her poles tightly.
"Oh God, oh God. Okay. Let's go."
We schussed off, straight down the hill, black diamonds leading to white.
THE END
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