Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Storiesonline.net ------

   Crunch

   by oyster50

   CopyrightÂ(C) 2011 by oyster50

   ------ Description: Sometimes the routine things bring a surprise.  And
the familiar brings more surprises as Dave's disaster brings him to an
unexpected place with his young neighbor
Codes: Mf cons rom 1st oral mastrb pett slow

   ------



   ------

   Chapter 1

   I regained consciousness through a curtain of pain.  Breathing hurt.  I
tried to lift my head.  Hurt.  Right arm moved okay.  Left arm.  I
screamed. Let's not do left arm.  Right leg hurt but not too bad.  Left
leg. Another scream.  I was being cradled.  And a soothing voice.  I KNOW
that voice.

   "Don't try to move, Dave." The voice was soft, feminine.  "I hear the
ambulance.  It's close."

   I opened my eyes.  Good!  They still worked.  I saw the face.  Ronni. 
Pronounced "Ronnie".  As in "Veronica".  My seventeen year old next-door
neighbor.

   Okay.  Inventory.  I was hurting.  Bad.  Left leg.  Left arm.  Chest. 
Something warm running into my eyes.  Things were NOT good.

   The flashing red lights and incessant whooping of a siren became
pervasive.  I heard voices.  Running.  Shouting.  I tried to see what was
going on and the world disappeared again.

   The next time I came back, I was in a room full of bright lights and
very concerned faces and there was a mask over my face.

   "Are you with us, Mister Johnson?" asked a voice somewhere off to my
left.

   The best I could do in response was a punctuated groan.

   "Just relax.  We're working on your arm right now." Then to somebody who
wasn't me, "Dump another load.  We need him out."

   I felt a coolness and then a burning in my good arm and the world went
away.

   The next time I woke up I was in the recovery room.  There was a nurse,
my sister, and Ronni.  I tried to squeeze out a simple "Hey" but I guess it
came out a grunt more than anything else.

   All three were immediately at my bedside.  The nurse spoke first. 
"Welcome back, Mister Johnson.  Just relax.  The doctor will be here in a
minute."

   Then my sister: "Hey, brother," she said.  "You're getting better."

   Considering that I could still remember my previous inventory of assets,
I didn't want to think of how bad things were, if this was "better".

   And finally Ronni.  Soft voice that I've known since it was seven.  "Oh,
Mister Dave, I was so worried."

   And the doctor walked in.  He shined a penlight into my eyes, listened
to my chest, then stood where I could see him.  "Well, Mister Johnson,
you've had quite the afternoon, but you're going to be okay."

   I made a noise that must have passed for a question.

   "You've got a concussion, scalp lacerations, four fractured ribs, a
serious laceration of your lower lower arm, and your tibia and fibula,
that's your lower leg is a complex fracture.  All on the left side.  It's
gonna take a while, but you'll get everything back in service in the next
few weeks."

   Finally my tongue and lips worked enough to get a decipherable sound
that must have been interpreted as "what happened?"

   The doctor looked toward my sister Jan and Ronni.  "You know better than
I do.  What happened?"

   Ronni stood by me, her hand touching my good shoulder.  "Mister Dave,
you were working near the road when that pickup truck ran into you."

   Okay, so THIS is what it feels like to be run over by a truck.  I
grogged back to semi-consciousness.  The nurse came back in, then an
orderly, and I barely remember being wheeled up interminable hallways to be
slid rather carefully onto a bed in a hospital room.  Pain meds in my IV
kept me teetering over the edge of consciousness.

   I remember the nurses making rounds every hour, and each time I blinked
to consciousness I saw somebody sitting in the corner.  Ronni.

   While I'm talking about being unconscious, let me tell you about Ronni.
She lives next door.  Ten years ago when I moved in to the house I live in
now, a happy young husband with a very pregnant wife, Ronni was there,
seven years old, visiting to see who the new neighbors were.  She was ten
when the wife left, taking my little girl with her.  And now here she was,
sitting in my hospital room.  Ronni.  Hopelessly plain, ordinary Ronni. 
Look up "brown-haired girl" in the dictionary, and there's Ronni.  Not
memorable in any fashion at all, at least from the outside.  Five-six, a
hundred thirty, maybe forty, brown eyes.  Face was freckled, prominently.
Hair was brown.  Just brown.  Not blonde.  Not red.  Not jet black.  Brown.
Quirky smile, though, with slightly crooked white teeth.  And a nose with a
non-standard kink in it.  She'd finally passed through puberty in a fit of
lankiness and came out the other end with legs, her best feature, and a
pleasant figure with feminine hips, rather narrower than optimum, and
breasts, again, rather less than needed to qualify for a swimsuit issue of
a sports magazine.

   That's who was sitting in my room when I finally awoke in the morning. I
was hurting.  I managed to croak, though, "Hi, Ronni."

   Soft voice.  "Hi, Mister Dave.  How're ya feelin'?"

   "Like I got run over by a truck." I tried a smile.  I guess it showed
because I heard a tiny hint of a giggle.

   "You did, Mister Dave.  Well, not run over, but pretty well smacked."

   "What happened.  Did anybody see?"

   "I did," Ronni said.  "You had your weed-eater out to trim around your
mailbox when that truck came around the corner and lost control.  It hit
you and knocked you into my yard and it ended up hitting our tree." She
took a breath.  "Mom called 9-1-1 and I got to you first.  You were
bleeding and unconscious and I held you until the ambulance got you."

   "What about the driver?" I wheezed.  It hurt to take a really deep
breath.

   "Drunk.  Just came from a barbecue an' had too many beers.  Air bags
saved him.  He walked to an ambulance.  He's in jail right now."

   "Nice," I croaked.

   The floor nurse came in her rounds at that time.  "Hello, Mister
Johnson," she said.  "Good to see you awake.  How're you feeling?"

   It was worth another shot.  "Like I was run over by a truck," I said.  I
tried to laugh.  It hurt.

   "Niiiice," the nurse said.  Turning to Ronni, "Is he what, a comedian or
something?"

   "He tries," Ronni said.  "Makes more money bein' an engineer."

   "No doubt," the nurse chuckled.

   "What's going on with me, nurse?  I can't move..."

   "You shouldn't move right now.  You have a set of taped ribs, and you're
bandaged and splinted on your left leg, and you've got a couple of dozen
stitches in your scalp and down your left arm is stapled and stitched."

   "How long am I gonna be here?"

   "That's between you and your doctor, but usually with the kind of breaks
you have, the swelling's got to go down and you don't show up with an
infection, and that's a few days." She finished her assessment of me. 
"Would you like some water or some juice?"

   "Water.  Just a sip."

   "Let me get it for him," Ronni said.  She put a straw to my lips and I
took several tiny sips.  And it tasted wonderful.

   "Not too much," the nurse said.  "Just wet your mouth.  You don't need
the fluids while you're on the IV.  And you're due for another painkiller
in an hour."

   So that's what life was for the next three days.  Several co-workers
dropped by for obligatory visits.  And my sister and Ronni took turns. 
Ronni was gone for a couple of hours at a time to change clothes.  She
snuck out to eat at the hospital cafeteria.  And she stayed.  When I was
awake, she talked if I wanted to talk.  Her mom and dad came up to see me,
too, and I was too out of it to talk, but I overheard the conversation in
the hallway.

   "Dad, I AM going to stay here.  His sister has things she needs to do.
I'm out of school.  This is okay, really, Dad."

   Her mother's voice was softer.  "Ronni, I know he's your friend, but
babe..."

   Ronni interrupted.  "Yes!  He's my friend.  He's helped me with homework
and stuff and he's ...  my friend.  And he needs somebody to stay up here."

   "Okay, Ron," her dad said.  "You win."

   "Careful what you win," her mom said.

   And Ronni was back in my room.  I looked like I was asleep.  I was on
the verge, but the conversation woke me.  She walked to my bed and her
fingers traced my brow at the bandage line.  She tugged a corner of the
sheet.  And then her fingertips touched her lips and then mine.

   Oh, and the second day into my little hospital adventure, it was time
for a sponge bath.  Instead of evacuating the room, my sister AND Ronni
stayed.  Ronni said, "In case I need to do this..." and you should've seen
the look on my sister's face.

   I also got the catheter removed, perhaps the most unpleasant thing that
EVER happened to my dick.  Well, you have to realize that babies don't
remember circumcisions.  THAT might have topped the catheter removal.  Just
the right amount of Demerol let me hobble, with assistance, to the bathroom
for the first time to relieve myself.  THAT burned like the fires of Hell,
too.  Was anything going to ever feel good again?

   Ronni was hovering outside the bathroom door waiting on me.  "Okay,
Ron," I said.  "I'm done." When she came in to help me, I was trying to tug
the hem of that damned hospital gown down.

   "Let me get that," Ronni said.  I stood paralyzed as she reached down to
tug the hem over my exposed dick.  Never mind the fact that eroticism had
NO place in the event, the idea of ...  well, you know.

   She straightened up.  "Can't have you flashing passers-by," she smirked.
"And I've already seen it." She put an arm around my waist.  I put my right
arm around her shoulders and she helped me hobble back to the bed.  We
pirouetted and I awkwardly sat my butt on the edge.

   I tried twisting myself to lie down, but her help was necessary.  She
was careful with my left leg as she turned me lengthwise and then
rearranged my gown.

   "Comfy?" she asked.

   "Yes.  Thank you, babe!  But I'm gonna need a pain-killer before long."

   "Be right back," she said.  She left and returned.  "They'll be here in
a few minutes, Dave.  And your doctor's on the floor, too."

   "Good," I said.  "We need to figure out how all this is gonna work. 
Only half of me works."

   "We'll figure something out, Dave," she said.

   The doctor did come in.  He poked and prodded and questioned.  Finally,
he said, "well, all things considered, another day in here, then you can go
home.  We'll get you set up with a home health nurse to come by and check
on dressings and stuff.  How're you set up for help around the house? 
You're single, says here." He tapped my chart.

   Ronni didn't miss a beat.  "Between me and his sister, we'll take care
of him," she said.

   The doctor looked at her.  "He's gonna need round the clock care for a
few weeks, ma'am."

   Ronni just smiled.  "It's summer.  I'm out of school, so I can do it."

   The doctor left.  Lunch arrived.  I tried to eat with only my right
hand. It can be done.  Especially if you have Ronni hold food in place so
you don't have to chase it down with your fork.  And open your cold drink.
And blot up your mishaps.  This was shaping up to be loads of fun.

   I tried walking.  You can walk with one good leg IF you have two good
arms.  When you don't have an arm to hold a crutch, you're pretty much
screwed.  That was me.  Left arm hurt like hell.  With help I made it to
the toilet.

   I also tried talking to the policeman they sent by to gather information
about the accident.  Turns out he was the same guy who showed up at the
accident.  "I'm Patrolman Frank Harmon," he said, extending a hand.

   "Hello," I said.  I shook his hand.  "That one still works."

   "You look better than you did the other day," he said.  He saw Ronni. 
"Hi, young lady.  You did a good job of taking care of him." He turned back
to me.  "Not much for me to do with this one.  The tracks leaving the road
to where he hit you, his final resting place, a blood alcohol level three
times the legal limit ...  open and shut case.  Have you gotten a lawyer?"

   "No.  Do I need one?"

   He smiled.  "If I was you I'd talk to one.  Rich kid spending daddy's
money on a new pickup truck.  Gets sauced and runs off the road.  And you
get in the way.  At least make sure you get all your medical bills paid."

   "You're right.  I'll call one." I hadn't thought of that.

   One more day in the hospital.  Sister came in to relieve Ronni.  After
Ronni left, my sister Deb said, "I just finished cleaning up your place and
feeding your cat and emptying his litterbox.  And me and Terry moved things
around as best we can so you'll have room to maneuver.  And Home Health
Services came in and installed a trapeze so you can get in and out of bed
with one arm.  Your neighbor, Ronni's dad, built you a wheelchair ramp."

   "That's a big help.  I don't know how I'm gonna do this."

   Deb said, "Uh, your young friend said she's gonna help."

   "Ronni's a good kid," I said.  I've known her for ten years.  Since she
was seven."

   "You wanna know something?" Deb asked.

   "What?" I answered.

   "I'm probably not the one to tell you this, but she's ...  she's got a
big crush on you, Dave."

   "Ronni?  You're kidding."

   "I'm NOT kidding.  And YOU'RE blind."

   "She never said anything, Deb.  Nothing."

   "Believe me.  I've been sitting with her a lot the last three days,
Dave. She's a jewel."

   "I know that part, Deb," I said.  "But the part you just said makes me
nervous.  And I NEED some help for the next few weeks until I can at least
walk around." I thought for a second.  "She TOLD you she had a crush on
me?"

   "No, not in so many words, Dave," she said.  "But trust me.  Women know
these things."

   "I think you're wrong," I said.  "I've lived next door to her for years.
When her dad took that overseas job, I took care of stuff around their
house for them while he was gone, and I used to play catch with her when
she was learning to play softball, and I went to her games and stuff like
that.  Maybe she thinks she's paying some of that back."

   Deb eyed me.  "Uh-huh.  Okay.  Forget I said anything." She sat there
and watched as I drifted off into a demerol haze.

   I heard voices: Deb and Ronni.  "Oh, now there's two of you," I said.

   "Yeah," Deb answered.  "Ronni's gonna stay while I go home.  I need to
fix dinner and do wifely duties before Terry fires me."

   "You're getting kinda old for that "wifely duty" thing," I quipped. 
"And I know you can't cook for crap..."

   Deb laughed.  "I can cook just fine, and I'm not dead yet and we
shouldn't be having this discussion in front of Ronni anyway."

   Ronni jumped in.  "I've heard worse than that.  At least it's wifely
duties and not something else.  Mizz Deb, thanks for watching 'im while I
was gone.  I feel better with a shower and Mom's cooking."

   Deb said, "Oh, no problem, Ronni.  He's my brother.  I'm obligated, you
know."

   "Oh, that makes me feel MUCH better, that I'm an obligation instead of a
fellow human for whom you feel adoration."

   Ronni's next words were, "Oh, Mister Dave, she can be obligated.  I'll
do the "adore" part." And then I guess she thought about how that sounded,
because she giggled like it was a joke.

   Deb looked at me knowingly and winked.

   "Look, while you two are discussing my place in the human race, how
about helping me to the bathroom.  I need to go," I said.

   Deb said, "We can do that?  Number one or Number two?"

   "One," I said.  "About to pop."

   The two of them helped me turn sideways and then stand, supported on
both sides, then we made our way to the bathroom.

   "Turn your heads," I said.  That got me two giggles as I tried to
uncover my dick with one hand.  I was proud that I could still find it, and
that with one hand I could aim, pee and shake, then drop the hem of that
stupid hospital gown.

   "Done," I announced.  I and my support team moved back to the bed and
they laid me out.  "Might wanna see if there's another painkiller on tap,"
I said.  "Moving around hurts."

   "Okay, I'll stop by the nurse's station and tell 'em.  I'll see you
tomorrow.  Ronni, call me if you need anything." And she left.

   Ronni kicked her shoes off and sat in the chair beside my bed.  "So, you
feeling better now?"

   "I hurt like the dickens when I try to move," I said.  "But it'll get
better..."

   She smiled.  "I know it will.  You'll be as good as new, the doctor
says."

   "You talked to the doctor?" I asked.

   "Yeah, me an' Mizz Deb did.  And we talked with the home health people
about getting you a nurse to visit at your house, and to get that trapeze
thing for your bed, and a wheel chair."

   "What am I gonna do with a wheel chair?  You need two arms to run one of
those things."

   "It's not for you," she said.  "It's for us.  Makes it easier to move
you around.  But you'll be hobbling around in two or three weeks, anyway.
The doctor said you had a clean break on your leg and it's gonna heal fast.
Your arm'll be sore but you can use it sooner."

   "That's nice to know," I said.  "I hate being helpless."

   "Oh, don't worry," Ronni answered.  "I ...  We'll take care of you."

   The nurse walked into the room with a syringe.  "Mister Johnson, this is
your last one of these.  When this bag is empty, we're pulling your IV. 
You can take pills for pain after that."

   "You're taking away my FRIEND?" I quipped.

   The nurse looked at me.  "See?  You're on the road to recovery.  Your
asshole function is returning..."

   Ronni laughed.

   I felt the nectar enter my vein and I drifted off.  I woke up when
dinner showed up.  Ronni provided much needed assistance.  At least I still
had my right hand.  And Ronni.  Chasing macaroni around the plate with one
hand was an exercise in futility.  Together we accomplished the transfer of
hospital food to my mouth.  After the meal, Ronni took off to go to the
cafeteria to feed herself.  In twenty minutes she was back.

   "I'll pay you back for the cafeteria, Ronni," I said.

   "I'm not worried," she said.  "Miss Deb gave me some money."

   Since I was awake, we talked, small talk, her finishing up her junior
year of high school, the end of softball season, where she was an all-star
player, her family travails, local events.  Ronni was intelligent and
personable.  And friendly.

   We turned on the TV and watched a couple of shows together, too.  The
pillow speaker, though, had her leaning against my bed so she could hear,
our heads only inches apart.  And I could smell hints of perfume. 
Something happened on the screen and we both laughed simultaneously.

   I turned to look at her and she turned at the same moment and with the
distance only inches between our faces, I thought I sensed an almost
electric tension.  We both froze for a second.  It looked as if she was
thinking.  Finally she smiled gently and giggled one more time.

   "That's just funny," she said.

   "Yeah," I answered, trying to de-escalate a moment that I wasn't really
sure had actually escalated.  "I wonder who thinks up those things?"

   She smiled, "Sometimes life is funny like that, you know..."

   "Yeah?" I questioned.

   "Yeah.  Turns and twists and stuff.  Sometimes the thing you're looking
for isn't the thing you're happiest finding.  What's the word? 
Serendipity?"

   "Good word," I said, musing to myself about how many seventeen year old
girls had vocabularies that included "serendipity", much less knew what it
actually meant.

   A commercial interrupted the entertainment.  Ronni got up and went to
the bathroom.  I heard water run and when she returned, she had a warm,
damp washcloth.  "Hold still," she directed, and she washed my face. 
"Better?" she asked.

   "Much better," I said.  "Thank you."

   She put the washcloth down and her fingers massaged my temples. 
"Mmmmm," I moaned.  "That feels REALLY good." It did.  Single for years,
and essentially celibate, a touch, especially a caring touch, was almost a
cause for celebration.

   "I thought maybe it would help you relax," she said.  "I remember Momma
doing this to me when I was sick."

   "It works.  Best thing I've felt in years." And I was being truthful.

   Ronni smiled.  You know, a smile makes a woman beautiful.  Plain young
Miss Ronni.  And a smile and I saw her beautiful.

   She moved around the bed to my damaged left side.  My hand was still
swollen and discolored, partially due to the antiseptics, partially due to
bruising.  She touched my hand gently.  "Does this hurt?"

   "Don't try to bend it, but your touch feels good."

   She stroked my hand and fingers gently.  "This okay?" She looked at me,
a soft smile curling the corners of her mouth.

   "Yes, it does.  Can you squeeze, gently?"

   She put my hand between hers and squeezed.  "Like this?"

   "Mmm-hmm," I said.  "Just kind of massage it." The hand did feel better.
The arm throbbed, but the hand felt better.

   For a couple of minutes she ministered to my hand.  "Should we try your
foot?" she asked.

   "That's worth a try," I said.

   She pulled the blanket off my foot.  I wiggled my toes.

   "They still work, ' I said.

   She extended a finger to my toes and I did my best to grip it.  I
groaned when I realized that I'd moved the broken leg.

   Giggle.  "That's what you get for trying to grab me," she said.  "Now be
good." She massaged my foot.  A foot massage would have had me moaning with
pleasure on any day, but Ronni's fingers produced waves of pleasure and I
said so.

   "It's good for your circulation," she said.  "I read about it." She
paused.  "And I talked with the nurses."

   "I'm sure it does some good besides making me very happy," I said.  "You
have no idea how much I appreciate it."

   "I'm glad I can help," she smiled.  She raised the blanket from my
damaged leg.  "Wow," she said.

   "What?"

   "You've got a mess there."

   "A mess?"

   "Yeah, your leg's all kinds of colors.  That splint thing stops halfway
up your thigh."

   I had a thought pass through my head.  If she could see half-way up my
thigh to my bare leg, and I had no underwear on, then ...  but what was the
point of that thought train?  I abandoned it.  "I can't bend over to see,"
I said.

   Wry smile.  "I can see.  Take my word for it."

   "I'll take your word that it's not too bad.  You didn't puke.  Or turn
colors."

   "If I was going to turn colors, that would've been yesterday when they
showed me an' Mizz Deb how to give a sponge bath." Smile.

   "I hope I don't have to depend on you for that too awfully long."

   "As long as you need, Mister Dave."

   And a little more banter and small talk and I dozed off.  The last image
I had was of Ronni curling up in the chair under a hospital blanket.

   I drifted in and out of slumber every time the nurse made her rounds,
and every time a nurse came in, Ronni, jumped up to stand beside her, and
while the nurse was logging my data, Ronni's hand was gently on my shoulder
or stroking my face.

   Breakfast came.  With help.  Nearing lunch, I was being wheeled to the
entrance where Deb was waiting with my SUV, my magic carpet home.  It was
not without pain that I slid into the back seat sideways.  Ronni loaded a
few belongings and we were on the way home.

   Pulling up to the house, the marks were still in the yard from that
fateful day, and it would be years before the bark healed over on the tree
that finally stopped the truck.  When we came to a stop in my drive, Ronni
got out and went inside the house and returned with a wheelchair.  I noted
the presence of an obviously hurriedly built temporary ramp over my front
steps.

   With help, I eased into the wheelchair and got pushed up to the front
door.  My big orange cat was looking out, waiting for people to return and
restore his life to proper balance.  He reluctantly moved out of the way as
I was pushed through the front door and into the bedroom.

   Ah!  There was MY bed.  Queen-sized, with a perfect mattress.  And now
with a framework over it with rails and a trapeze bar.  I felt good enough
to tell my sister, "Deb, you oughtta get you an' Terry one of these!"

   "Beast," she said, laughing.

   I reached up with my good arm and pulled, trying to ease up out of the
chair on my own.  With one arm pulling and one leg pushing and the help of
Deb and Ronni, I was sitting on my own bed.  Ronni supported my injured leg
as I swung around to lay back.  And I was home.  And I felt the bed bounce
as my cat arrived to receive his rightful petting.  His dissatisfaction was
obvious when I only devoted one hand to this task.

   "Well, here I am," I announced.  "What now?"

   "The home health people are going to install another trapeze over your
recliner," Deb said.  That'll give you TWO locations.  Me an' Ronni will
feed you and bathe you for a couple of weeks before you can remove those
splint things long enough for a bath.  And in about six weeks you'll be rid
of them, and life goes on."

   "And I'll owe both of you big time," I said.

   "Of course you will," smiled Deb, "Just like REAL life..."



   ------

   Chapter 2

   Deb planned to leave me in the hands of Ronni for the evening,
admonishing Ronni that if she needed help to call her, or if needed, 9-1-1.
I requested to be helped to my recliner.  I figured that it was as
comfortable as the bed, and at least I would be in the middle of the house
instead of stuck in a room off to the side.  The three of us managed this
task without much more than the expected trouble and I kicked the chair
back to elevate my feet.  Ronni passed me the remote control or the TV and
I turned it on as Deb departed.

   The door closed.  Ronni was sitting on the sofa next to my chair.  She
was close enough for my hand to touch her if I reached in her direction.  I
leaned my head back against the chair's headrest and sighed.

   Ronni immediately perked to attention.  "D'ya need anything, Mister
Dave?"

   "No," I said, "well, yeah, Ronni."

   "What?" she questioned.

   "I need you to drop the "Mister" part.  Save some words..."

   "Okay, but I was being polite."

   "And I KNOW you're polite.  And I appreciate it, but if you're gonna
spend time here..."

   "Okay, I don't mind.  Makes you sound, well, different, you know.  Like,
"Mister Dave" is Mom and Dad's friend.  Just plain "Dave" is mine."

   "I'm glad you're my friend.  You've been a big help already.  I know you
were the first to get to me..."

   "What was I supposed to do?  Jump up and down and scream like a silly
girl?"

   "I never thought of you as silly.  You've always been pretty
level-headed for your age.  Even when you were seven.  I'm glad you got
there.  It was surreal, opening my eyes and seeing you holding me
together."

   She smiled.  "Thank you.  I was scared shitless.  Your head was covered
with blood and your arm was spurting blood and your leg was bent funny.  I
thought the best thing I could do was hold you up until others got there.
You were a mess."

   "Still am," I said.  "Have you seen my head with the bandages off?"

   "Uh-huh.  Looks like you got the mange where they shaved you to stitch
you up."

   "Sounds attractive," I said.  "There goes my summer employment as a male
model." That comment got me some giggles.  I always did like hearing her
giggle, even when she was seven.  I turned my head to see her smile. 
"Thank you," I said.  "I love to hear you laugh."

   "Dave," she said, "You've been making me laugh and smile for ten years.
Thank YOU!"

   "Ron," I said.  "You can go home for a while if you want.  I'm gonna be
okay here.  All I'm doin' is watchin' TV.  I'm good for an hour at least."

   "I don't need to go home, Dave.  I brought a change of clothes and my
nightshirt and a book.  I think I'd feel better if I just stayed with you."
She smiled.

   "Okay then, babe," I said.

   She caught that.  "BABE?  You called me "babe"?"

   "Sorry.  It just slipped.  Friendly term, that's all..." I back-pedaled.

   "No guy's ever referred to me as "babe", Dave."

   "Then it's a sad sample of guys around you, Ronni."

   "I'm pretty sure it's a representative sample, Dave.  I'm too tall and
my hair's just brown and my eyes are just brown and I don't have one of
those figures that guys drool over."

   It occurred to me at this time that just perhaps those painkillers were
reducing my judgment a bit.  This was a conversation presenting ideas that
existed in my head.  I was Ronni's next-door neighbor and almost like an
uncle or a big brother, almost twenty years her senior in age.  I'd watched
her grow and she never did shed the tom-boy shtick.  Her extra-curricular
activities in high school included girls' sports, volleyball, softball,
that sort of thing, and from her and her parents' reports and my own
observations, she was pretty good.  I didn't however, see a parade of guys
coming to take Ronni out.

   I knew Ronni's report card was good, too, and some of that was my fault.
She'd long ago learned that her mom and dad's academic skills weren't
always up to helping too much on high school work, especially math, and I'm
proud to say that I was her choice for help.  Being single and alone, I was
a constant invite to every event in her life, including many of her sports
adventures.  I was the oddball "team parent" because I was there when her
own dad was off working out of town or overseas.  But I never felt like
Ronni's parent.  I always felt like I was just privy to the life of a
delightful young lady.

   And in all those experiences, apparently there were some feelings that
were being exposed by the application of prescription drugs.  But the
exposure was inside my head, I thought.  Except I'd just uncorked the
bottle.

   "Don't worry, Ronni," I said.  "Somewhere along the line the right guy
will learn about you and find you perfectly gorgeous."

   "Most of 'em think I'm a lesbian," she said.

   This was much further into this line of conversation than Ronni and I
had ever been.  Sure, we talked.  You don't coach a kid through high school
math and science and English and social studies without talking.  I knew
she was a great talker, and I liked to think that I might have had a bit of
the credit for her vocabulary and conversational skills.  But our talks to
this point had never strayed into her personal life, other than her
opinions about her teammates and teachers.

   "Why?" I asked.  I was already part-way to the answer.  She confirmed
with that supposition with her first statement.

   "Because I play sports, and you know, EVERYBODY knows that girls that
play sports are all big lezzes.  Unless they're big sluts to show they're
not big lezzes."

   "They used to say the same thing when I was in school, Ronni," I said.
"And it was stupid, then, too."

   "But ...  I'm not a slut, either, so according to the formula, I must
therefore be a lez.  I mean, I've gone out on a couple of dates, but they
weren't much.  You know, movie and dinner at the mall food court."

   "Nothing wrong with that, Ronni." I took a deep breath and dove off into
the subject.  It must've been the drugs.  "A lot of people get confused
about the difference between sex and love and end up with everything from
regret to babies."

   "I know," she said.  "I know three girls in my class this year that had
babies, and I've heard that there were a bunch who got pregnant and got
abortions."

   Yeah," I said, "And that's just the physical side of things.  No matter
what they say, most people don't want sex, they want love, and even if one
partner is thinking "No strings attached", there's a pretty good chance
that the other one is HOPING that there is a connection that lasts longer
than the physical connection."

   "I think I believe that, Dave," she said.

   "I think a lot of people believe it, Ronni, but they go jump off into
something anyway."

   "And they get messed up." Ronni's voice carried a sound of surety.

   "Yeah," I said.  "And usually it's the girl.  Guys are notorious about
using girls, but some guys get messed up, too.  Getting used is no fun.  I
know."

   "Your divorce?" she said.

   "Yeah, that.  And a couple of tries after that." I sighed.  The divorce.
Not a pleasant thing.  "Don't get me wrong, Ronni, because there are two
sides to every story, but finding out one day that your wife thinks the
grass is greener with an old high school boyfriend ...  And tearing your
life in half.  That's painful."

   "You never talked with me about it, Dave," she said.

   "Why would I?  You were a kid.  And it's an adult thing."

   "I understand.  But now we're talking about relationships.  And I'm
seventeen, and SOMEBODY oughtta talk to me about this stuff," she huffed.

   "It's your mom's place.  And your dad's."

   "They kinda do talk about it, but I learn a lot by watching them. 
Especially with Dad having to go work like he does.  But they seem to hang
in there."

   "They do, don't they?"

   It was true.  Ronni's dad was a specialty welder and in constant demand
for his skills with exotic metals and techniques.  He was often on the
road, sometimes for a week, sometimes for a couple of months, and Ronni's
mom was faithful, always waiting when he got back.  I filled in for many
"man around the house" functions while Alex was gone, but only as a
handyman.  Rena, Ronni's mom, was a gem.  One of the side benefits of my
relationship with this family was that I was a frequent invite for backyard
parties and barbecues and home-cooked meals, and of course I had Ronni as a
friend.

   "Seeing your mom and dad makes me kind of jealous," I said.

   "She's tried fixing you up, Dave," Ronni said.

   "I know," I said.  But I'm picky.  You know how I am about my music and
my reading and stuff like that, and I don't want to marry somebody who's
not compatible.  And a lot of divorced women have a lot of baggage.  It's
back to that "getting used" thing.  I ...  It just has to be right, Ronni.
And you know old man Bailey next door?"

   "Yeah, I know him.  Nice old man.  His wife makes cookies."

   "Yeah.  Good cookies, too.  But he and I were talking over the fence one
day and he said, "Dave, I'm not meaning to be nosey, but are you one a'them
gay people?".  I think he meant well, but was just curious since Trish left
and there's not a parade of women out of the door of a single guy."

   Ronni laughed.  "Oh, that's just great.  Here we are, the lez and her
gay neighbor..."

   "I'm not gay, Ronni," I said.

   "I didn't think you were, Dave.  But I ain't a lez, either, you know ...
but it's funny..."

   And there was a knock on the door.  Ronni bounced up and opened it.  I
heard her say "Hi, Mom!"

   And Rena's voice.  "Is he awake?  Can I see 'im?"

   "I'm okay, Rena.  Come in!"

   Ronni escorted her mother into the house.  Rena was carrying a pot. 
"Chili," she said.  "Your recipe.  You can eat with one hand."

   "Oh, wonderful," I said.  "My first meal since the hospital."

   "Ronni can help you eat," Rena said.

   "Rena, I want to thank you for loaning me Ronni.  She's been a jewel."

   Rena smiled.  "I couldn't stop her, Dave.  You know how she is.  You're
her buddy.  And you always help us out.  How're you feeling."

   "Like I got run over by a truck."

   "Dave!  That's horrible." She chuckled.  "But I guess horrible jokes are
a good sign."

   "I hope so.  How's Alex?"

   He was out of town for a couple of weeks on a project, leaving a couple
of days before I returned from the hospital.  Those things brought in good
money, even if it was in intermittent lumps.

   "He's doin' fine.  He said tell you he hopes you do okay, Dave," she
said.

   "Good," I said.

   "Ronni," I said, "are you going to help me eat this?"

   She smiled.  "Sure, Dave," she said.

   "Uh, hon, that's 'Mister Dave'," Rena corrected.

   "Oh, Rena, I told her to cut the "Mister" part.  She's old enough.  And
she's been by me for the last week."

   "Uh, okay, Dave.  I just don't want her being impolite."

   "Ronni?  She's the most polite young lady I know of.  And I'm lucky to
be her friend."

   Rena looked at Ronni, then me.  "Well, she practically demanded that we
let her stay here to take care of you, you know..."

   "I didn't know."

   Ronni interrupted, "Well, you needed somebody, and Mizz Deb can't be
here all the time and I'm convenient..."

   And I finished her sentence.  "And like my best friend in the whole
world."

   Ronni smiled.  So did her mom.

   And Ronni finished, "And this is what I want to do." And she smiled
sweetly with that crooked smile that was completely unique to Ronni, and
that I'd enjoyed for a decade.

   Rena asked Ronni, "Baby, is there anything else you need?"

   "No, ma'am," Ronni answered.  "I brought a change of clothes and my
nightshirt so I can stay here tonight." She looked at me with an expression
that I couldn't quite decipher.

   Rena got up to leave.  "Okay, then, baby.  Take care of Dave." She
looked at me.  "You're in good hands, Dave.  See you in the morning, okay?
I'll bring over some breakfast."

   "Thanks, Rena," I said.  "I owe you big time."

   "No you don't, dear.  We're neighbors.  For all the times you've helped
when Alex was out of town and all ...  and it's what neighbors do."

   "Okay, lady," I said.  "And thank you for loaning Ronni to me."

   Rena tittered.  "I'd be careful about that, Dave.  You know how if you
feed a stray cat long enough, it moves in..." and on that note the door
closed behind her.

   And there was a cat-like grin on Ronni's face.  Make that a Cheshire
cat.

   Ronni pulled a TV tray and a chair up next to me and spooned her mom's
chili into my face, alternating it with sips of lemonade, and that was
dinner.  Quite satisfactory, especially after a week's worth of bland
hospital fare.  She left me for a few minutes and I heard kitchen noises,
then she came back and ate her own bowl of chili beside me as we watched a
movie on TV.

   "When you finish, babe, I'm gonna need to go to the bathroom."

   "Okay, I figured it wouldn't be too long."

   "No hurry, though."

   "Oh, I'm not hurrying.  And you're gonna need a sponge bath, too.  It's
been a couple of days."

   "I know," I said.  "I feel sticky."

   "I guess you do.  We'll do the best we can.  The doctor said that after
you've been in that splint thing for a couple of weeks you can take it off
long enough to get in the shower.  Until then, though, it's gonna be me or
Mizz Deb." She smiled.

   "You're okay with that?" I asked.  "I don't want you to be
uncomfortable. I mean, you don't have to..."

   She gazed at me like I had a horn growing out of my forehead.  "Dave,"
she said, "We're both adults here.  And this is purely clinical.  I've
already helped at the hospital so I know what to do.  And so now I've seen
...  you know..."

   I still had some trepidation.  "'Cause if you want, we can get Deb..."

   Giggle.  "Now THAT'S kinky!  You'd rather your SISTER wash you than ME!"

   "I don't want you scarred for life, smart-ass," I retorted.

   "Thinking about you and your sister might REALLY scar me..." she
giggled.

   "Alrighty, then, baby doll, I'm all yours," I said.  Her face flashed a
strange look before settling onto a laughing response.

   "Be nice," she chuckled.  "I know where your ice-maker is..."

   "You wouldn't do that to a poor ol' cripple now, would you?"

   "Only if I'm forced to..." Her eyes twinkled.  "Let me get this stuff
put up, then we'll get you to the bathroom, okay?"

   "Okay," I said.  "And I can hear the icemaker..."

   Giggle.  She got up and did more kitchen things and I heard the
dishwasher start up.  She was back in front of me, lowering the footrest of
my recliner.  Getting me up was a bit of an exercise punctuated by a couple
of painful events as I worked out what I could push and pull with, but
finally I was vertical and leaning against her.  She reached for the
wheelchair.

   "I think that's more trouble than it's worth," I said.

   "Humor me," she countered.  "Give yourself time." She helped me ease
back down into the wheelchair and pushed me to the bathroom.  It was
another battle to get me onto the toilet.  She unsnapped my hospital
pajamas and I wriggled so she could get them from underneath me.  She was
kneeling in front of me as she did this, and I could only imagine what she
saw as the pajamas came loose.  "Clinical" she said earlier.

   The aftermath was more titters as she tried various approaches to basic
sanitary needs.  Finally I said, "If I can just lean on you to the left, I
think I can do that myself." I waved my right hand.

   "Oh, okay, I like that better," she said.  "It's different when it's a
one year old..." her eyes connected with mine.  "MUCH different."

   "Sorry," I said.  "You have no idea how embarrassing this all is.  I
hate being helpless."

   "Oh, get over yourself, Dave.  We gotta do what we gotta do.  And I'll
be okay..."

   "At least you're not rolling on the floor laughing."

   That got laughter and a smile.  "I have no idea what you're talking
about, Dave.  I'm an innocent young girl and I have no point of reference
whatsoever." And she stuck her tongue out at me.

   "Oh my goodness.  I fear that I am in the clutches of a smartass."

   "Clutches?  That's a good one.  Just keep it in mind, mister," she
giggled.  "Now, while we're all worked up an' everything, you want to do
your sponge bath?"

   "As long as I don't hear the icemaker," I laughed.

   She maneuvered me back into the wheel chair then spread towels on my bed
before we strained and grunted me back onto the bed.  The next step was her
appearing with a basin full of warm water, some soap, and a washcloth.

   Now up to this point I was still pantsless from the bathroom trip, but
the hem of the pajama top was mercifully long enough to cover my crotch. 
But the top had to come off.  And Ronni was unsnapping the sleeve to get it
off my damaged arm.  And Ol' Pokey was there in open view.

   She stood back to admire her handiwork.  That pajama top was off, the
special snaps allowing it to be removed without resorting to pulling it
over my arms.  "There," she said.  "I can throw that one in the laundry
when we finish and put you on a fresh one.  Now be a good boy and let's get
you all clean." She draped a towel over my crotch.  "Decorum must be
maintained," she commented.

   I enjoyed her touch as she carefully washed my arms and chest and pits
and both my hands.  She regarded my face.  "I ...  uh you NEED a shave..."

   "I am going to have some trouble doing that, Ron," I said.

   "I'm scared to do that," she admitted.

   "Why?  Don't you shave your legs?"

   "Uh-huh," she admitted.

   "Same thing, babe," I said.  "The razor and shaving gel is in the
bathroom.  It's best to do it while my face is still damp."

   "Okay.  I'll try.  But I'm not promising much." She left and came back,
and in a few minutes, with surprisingly few "Ouch!" and "Oops!" sounds, I
FELT like I was shaved.  Giggle.  "You're not even bleeding that much..."
giggle.  "At least compared to the other day..."

   I laughed with her.

   "Now roll over on your stomach," she said.  She assisted me with that
move and then washed some more.  "Okay, that's done," she said.  As she
rolled me over onto my back again, her eyes connected with mine.  "Well,
buster, it's TIME.  Lemme go change the water."

   I was laying on my back, naked except for soft casts on my left arm and
leg, and the hand towel she'd draped over Ol' Pokey.  She came back in. 
"Here we go," she said.  She looked into my eyes as she slipped the towel
away.  And began a very workmanlike and technical cleaning.  No giggles, no
titters, no "Ewwwww!" (fortunately).  She washed everything as if she had
been doing exactly this sort of thing for years.

   "Just like a baby," she said.  "Except more of it." Of course.  Ronni
was a sometimes babysitter.

   "Just curious, though," she said.  "I didn't know guys shaved there.  I
mean, I've heard of girls, you know, that bikini problem, but guys?"

   "Uh ...  I dunno how many other guys do, but I like how it feels cooler
and cleaner." That was a little embarrassing.  I didn't say that it was
something started by my ex-wife and I liked the habit.  And further, Ol'
Pokey knew we were talking about him and he stood up.

   Her eyes widened.  "Uh, no baby ever did THAT."

   "Sorry, ' I said.  "Sometimes it has a mind of its own.  I didn't do
that on purpose." And the embarrassment made Ol' Pokey lay down.

   "I'm sorry, Dave.  I just didn't expect it." She looked at me.  And
there was a light sprinkle of perspiration on her forehead.

   "That's what I was worried about, Ronni," I said.  "I'm hopelessly
normal and there are such things as reflexes.  That's one of 'em.  And I
never meant to embarrass you."

   "Uh, no, Dave ...  I shouldn't be embarrassed.  I've been kind teasing
and playing, and then when there it is ...  Well, it startled me."

   "Sorry." That was all I could think to say.

   Ronni, on the other hand, had shifted modes.  "So, is that normal size?"

   "What?"

   "Simple question.  Is it normal size?"

   I was a whopping six inches.  "Yeah, pretty much normal."

   "Oh.  Okay.  I mean, since I SAW it, I thought I'd ask."

   "Well, it is..." Now I was the one feeling the flush of my face turning
red.

   "Oh, now YOU'RE embarrassed, Dave.  I'm sorry."

   "Oh, just help me get my pajamas on." I paused.  "Pants first."

   She giggled.  A little bit of wiggling and a few groans later, I was
again chastely clad in convalescent pajamas.

   "Wanna go back in the living room?" she asked.  "That way I can
straighten the bed and then take my shower.  Okay?"

   "Sure, babe," I said.  We worked me off the bed and back into that
wheelchair, and then reversed in the living room to put me back in my
recliner.

   Once I was situated, she asked, "Comfy, now?"

   "Yes, Ronni.  Thanks."

   "Oh, poo!" she laughed.  "thank you." And she leaned over and kissed me
on the cheek.

   "What's that for?" I asked, startled.  No, it wasn't the first kiss I'd
ever gotten from Ronni.  I could remember a few dozen pecks over the years
from an excited little girl over birthday presents and winning games.  But
none of these was evident now.

   "Because you worry about me.  You care how I feel." She smiled at me.

   "Of course I do, Ronni.  You're my best friend."

   "You keep saying that, Dave.  What about the people you work with?" she
looked at me, those brown eyes soft, questioning.

   "Oh, I have a lot of good friends, Ronni," I said.  "You saw some of
them visit.  But who's here, taking care of me, when she could be out
having a life this summer?"

   "Dave, who comes to my games and who played team dad while Dad was
overseas?  I owe you.  Besides, you're always here when I need you."

   "Go take your shower before we start cryin' and huggin', babe." I said.
She left.  And left me thinking.  Fifteen minutes later I heard the water
stop running, then the sound of a hair dryer.  Then another fifteen minutes
for jawline-length brown hair to be brushed and dried to a shiny
completion.

   And Ronni walked in.  I'd seen Ronni in a lot of different outfits over
the years, jeans and a blouse or a shirt, or one of those abbreviated
shorts and jersey things for softball or volleyball, or even a bathing
suit, and she looked good in a dress, from a cute seven year old going to
church with her mom and dad ten years ago to an understated formal for prom
a few weeks back.

   None of those prepared me for Ronni in a nightshirt that was essentially
an oversized, overlength t-shirt.  Oh, to be sure, it covered her from her
neck to almost her knees, but it was cotton and underneath, well, I could
see that she had panties on.  And no bra.  And long, athletically-formed
legs.  Not grotesquely muscular, just firm and well-shaped.  I was trying
not to stare.

   "Whew!" she said.  "I feel soooo much better!  I needed a bath."

   "Yeah, I know how good it felt when you finished mine," I said.

   "I can imagine.  Do you need anything, babe?" she asked.

   "Nope," I said.  "Relax.  You've done plenty for me today." I didn't say
'including getting my heart rate up with that nightshirt'.  And "babe". 
She called me "babe".  "Here!  Get the remote and find something for us."

   She picked it up after I tossed it artlessly with my good hand and
started punching through channels.  Finally she found something on "Animal
Planet" that looked good.  We watched together for an hour, then started
another episode in the sequence, and then it was bedtime.

   "I'm gonna need a couple of those pain pills, Ron," I said.

   She got up and retrieved the medicine and a glass of water.  I took my
medicine.  She helped me into the wheelchair again and wheeled me to the
bathroom.  "You need to tinkle before you go to bed, so you won't have to
get up at night, babe."

   "You're a smart lady," I said.  Instead of trying to sit again, I used
Ronni's arms to help me to a standing position and then fumbled at the fly
of my pajamas until I got my dick out.  As I was peeing, I glanced over. 
Ronni's eyes were turned away.  Finishing, I gave it a couple of shakes and
managed to get it back inside my PJ's, then with minimal effort I sat back
down and let Ronni move me to my bed.  She turned back the covers and we
worked my damaged body onto the bed.

   "Uh, Ronni," I asked, "I forgot to ask you.  Where are you planning on
sleeping?  There're blankets and pillows if you want to use the sofa.  Or
you can use Brittney's room." I kept my daughter's room intact for the rare
occasions that she was over for a visit.

   But Ronni had a different idea.  "I'm sleeping in here, Dave," she said
quietly.  "In case you need something during the night."

   "Uh, Ronni," I stammered, "in the same bed?  Your folks..."

   "Mom trusts me, Dave.  And I trust YOU, not to mention the fact that you
can't hardly scratch yourself, much less try to have your way with me..."
she smiled.  "So relax.  I won't kick you.  I don't move much in my sleep."

   "You're serious?!?!"

   "About you ...  uh, taking care of you?  Yes I am." She walked to the
opposite side of the bed and turned on a lamp, then turned off the overhead
lights.  And crawled into my bed.  As she stretched her legs under the
covers, she asked, "Do you like music on when you go to sleep?"

   I could feel the painkillers beginning to work.  "Yes I do.  If you
punch that clock radio..."

   She punched.  "Oooohhhh, late night classical.  I listen to this..."

   She was on my right side.  I felt her hand reach for mine, grasp my
fingers, and squeeze.  "G'nite, Dave.  And by the way, this is the first
time I've been in bed with a guy..."

   "Ronni, that's..." I started.

   "Oh, don't get worked up.  You KNOW what I mean ...  g'nite." She
giggled and I felt the bed move, then her breath against my cheek, then a
chaste kiss.  And I drifted off.  I could always blame the strange dreams
on the drugs, right?



   ------

   Chapter 3

   I woke to an empty bed.  And a full bladder.  Oh, well, it was time to
see if this "I'm here to help" thing was real or not.  "Ronni," I called
softly.

   "I'm comin', Dave," she answered.  In a few seconds she showed up. 
Smiling.  "See!" she tittered, "We slept all night in the same bed and
didn't molest each other."

   "That's the miracle of oxycodone, babe," I said.  "How about helping me
to the bathroom?" Five minutes later I was finished and settling into my
recliner.

   "I just put a load of laundry on, and Mom's bringing over breakfast. 
I'm gonna go change."

   "Okay," I said.  I thought, 'Yeah, please deprive me of the sight of a
nubile seventeen year old body moving under semitransparent knit cotton.'

   She bounded back into the room a couple of minutes later, brushing her
hair when the doorbell rang.  She let her mom in.

   "Hi, Rena," I said.

   "Hi, Dave," Rena answered.  "You sleep good?"

   "Yes I did.  Drugs..."

   She smiled.

   "Uh, Rena, ' I said.  "Don't ring the doorbell.  Just walk in.  I mean,
I got your daughter in here."

   "Yeah, about that," she laughed, "I doubt that YOU'RE somebody I have to
worry about."

   I was thinking, 'If you'd seen what was in my head when poor, plain
little Ronni walked in wearing that damned t-shirt last night.' I said,
however, "Sadly, I'm too crippled to be dangerous."

   "You and me need to talk about danger one of these days, Dave.  I
brought you grits and bacon and eggs for breakfast, Dave.  I hope that's
okay."

   "Gosh, yes, Rena.  I'm gonna weigh 500 pounds if I keep eating like
this. Calories in, calories out, and all that." Rena was a little on the
plump side, an older, softer, rounder version of her daughter.  A
self-centered jerkwad might even call her fat.  But she wasn't married to a
self-centered jerkwad, nor did she have one for a neighbor.  I found her
quite pleasant to see.  If that was where Ronni was headed in a few years,
well, things could be much worse.

   "Oh, I know ALL about that, Dave," she laughed.  "You know how I battle
with it.  But you're recovering.  You need to eat." Ronni was setting up
the TV tray and her chair, preparatory to feeding me.  "For heaven's sake,
Ron, put your plate here too, and we can eat together."

   Rena went in the kitchen and searched out the makings of a pot of
coffee. This resulted in three mugs when the meal was finished.  The three
of us sipped coffee and watched a morning news show.  Finally, Ronni said,
"Mom, if you're gonna stay here for a minute, I need to run home."

   "Sure, hon," Rena said.

   As soon as the door closed behind the departing Ronni, I asked, "Rena,
WHAT danger?"

   "Never mind, Dave.  That's a conversation for another day." She smiled.

   "She's worth her weight in gold, Rena," I said.

   "Did she ...  uh, sponge bath?" Rena asked.

   "Yes, she did." I answered truthfully.

   "She told me that she and your sister got the nurse to show them what to
do."

   I looked at her.  "Yeah, they did."

   Rena sighed.  "I thought she'd wait until your sister was here to do
that."

   "I thought so, too," I said.  "But she was so confident-sounding." I
related the rest of the story.

   Rena shook her head.  "We've had The Talk, Dave.  And she's been
baby-sitting for years, so she knows the difference between little boys and
little girls."

   "That's what she said.  I think her exact words were 'Just like a baby,
except more of it.' But she wasn't expecting ...  And honestly, neither was
I, Rena." I watched her eyes.

   She sighed again.  "I suppose that's a better introduction than drunk in
a back seat, uh?  I mean, YOU, I can trust." "I would NEVER hurt Ronni,
Rena.  I was more embarrassed than she was, I think."

   "I know you wouldn't, Dave." Rena's smile was somewhat enigmatic. 
"She's a good kid.  Even if she wasn't my daughter."

   That's about the time that the front door opened and Ronni walked in
with a paperback book and a canned drink.

   "Hi!  I'm back, Mom.  I stirred the pot on the stove for you." She sat
on the sofa.

   "Ronni, when Deb calls, tell her to get you a case of those soft drinks.
If you're taking care of me, I can at least give you your favorite drinks."
I looked at Rena.  "And I need to give you some money to pay for feeding
me, and for that ramp that Alex built."

   "You don't owe us anything, Dave," Rena answered.

   "Thank you," I said.  "But it's not a matter of me owing you.  I
appreciate everything you've done.  And Alex.  And Ronni." I smiled at
Ronni.

   And three days passed with just about the same level of excitement,
except that Ronni's efforts at a sponge bath were a little more
professional, as was my reaction to it.

   My trip to the doctor's office was about as eventful as could be
expected, too.

   "You're actually doing better than I expected, Mister Johnson," he said.
"No infection, thank God.  And your bones appear to be healing ahead of the
curve.  In another week we're going to let you take the splints off long
enough to bathe, but you put NO weight on that leg for another three weeks,
at least, and then it's crutch time."

   I endured having stitches removed from my scalp and the wounds on arm
and leg, and the taping over my ribs was replaced.  "Another week on the
ribs," the doctor said.

   And I was wheeled back out, into the car, then home.  Back to a routine
of sorts, rather painful at times, and damned sure inconvenient.  The
doctor visit left me sweaty, and when Deb and Ronni got me inside, Deb
suggested a sponge bath.  She and Ronni handled the task without a hitch,
and it must be noted that when it came to washing around Mister Poky, Ronni
handled that task with cool and entirely clinical aplomb.  I wasn't amazed,
but Deb was.

   Nearing dinnertime, Rena appeared at the door with a meat loaf dinner
plate for me.  She sent Ronni home for her own meal.  I was a little
curious about this interruption in the normal routine, but shrugged it off.
Rena helped me get through the rough spots of the meal, then sponged off
the parts that missed my mouth.

   "So what's up, Rena?  Why'd you send Ronni home?"

   "You and I need to talk," she said, her eyes serious.

   "About what, Rena?  You look serious," I said.

   "Remember the other day I said that you and me need to talk about danger
one of these days?  Not really danger, Dave.  Question."

   Uh-oh.  'Serious mom' face.  "What?" I asked.

   "What's Ronni mean to you?" She regarded me coolly.

   "Seriously?  Best friend.  I can trust Ronni to do her best for me. 
She's bright, adorable ...  some guy's gonna be lucky to find her.  I'm
more than a bit jealous of not being eighteen my own self."

   "You're a decent man, Dave," Rena said.  "You need to know something. 
So you can decide what you need to do."

   "That sounds serious, Rena."

   "It is, Dave.  Ronni's my daughter.  I love her to pieces.  I'm a mom.
Goes without saying that I'd give my life for my kid.  Or kill to protect
her.  But Ronni's telling me something and I'm not sure how to present it."

   "I'd NEVER hurt Ronni, Rena.  I'd die first."

   "I believe you, Dave"

   "What, then?"

   "I think ...  No, I KNOW Ronni's in love, Dave."

   I felt a roaring my ears.  "With..."

   Rena's mouth was a tight straight line.  "You."

   "She said that?" I was incredulous.

   "She SHOWS that.  Has for years.  But no, she didn't SAY that until two
weeks ago.  When the ambulance took you away and she was covered in YOUR
blood and crying and sobbing in my arms.  And you know what she was
sobbing?"

   I looked.

   "Mom.  I LOVE 'im.  I REALLY love him.  And I never got to say it."

   "Ohmigod."

   "Yeah, Dave.  So now you've got Ronni staying in your house and now, you
say, sleeping in your bed, and she's in love and YOU don't know it, and
Dave, what exactly are you gonna do?"

   "I'm certainly not gonna HURT her, Rena."

   "Then what, Dave?"

   Just get a gun and shoot me.  I said in a low voice, "For gosh sakes,
Rena, what am I supposed to do?  I'm almost twenty years older than her."

   Rena stared.  "You don't ...  you ...  there's no chance that you and
her ...  you love her?"

   "I do.  You know pretty well that I haven't had anyone else in my life.
I just figured that I was going to watch her until one day she walked into
my house to introduce her new fiancĂ(C)e and then that dream would be over.
She's been, well, untouchable."

   "She's been afraid of the same thing, Dave," Rena said.

   "Now what?" I asked.

   "You're an honorable man, Dave.  Go slow.  As slow as you can.  And no
babies."

   "That's another thing, Rena.  I can't do babies.  When Lisa had
Brittney, those complications, they said it could be dangerous for her to
have another baby, so I got fixed.  What if Ronni wanted a baby?"

   "You and she need to figure that out.  Hell, adopt.  Borrow some. 
Whatever.  She loves you, Dave."

   "What about Alex?  What's he say about a guy his age and his daughter?"

   "We talked.  His take was "I'd rather she didn't bring home some
slack-jawed, droopy-pants'd bastard with his cap on sideways that I'd have
kill an' bury in the back yard.  Said at least ya'll wouldn't be movin' in
with us."

   "Alex always was a 'cut to the chase' kind of guy," I said.

   "Look, Dave, Ronni's gonna be back in a minute or two.  So now you KNOW.
And you know that WE know.  So you don't have to be secretive or lie.  So
be good to our Ronni."

   "I will, Rena.  She's a doll."

   "Uh, we haven't had this conversation, as far as she's concerned,
either. I'm gonna make a pot of coffee, if you want."

   "That sounds good."

   So when Ronni walked back through the door, her mom was in the kitchen.
And where else was I gonna be?

   "Hi, babe," Ronni said.  I saw Rena cock an eye at me and smile.  She
was right.  A lot of things started making sense.

   "Your mom's making me a cup of coffee, babe," I said.

   "Me too, I hope," she smiled.

   And I felt a lot different about that smile.

   The three of us shared coffee and chit-chat for the next forty-five
minutes and then Rena excused herself and left.

   Ronni turned to me.  "So what are we gonna do this evening?" she
chirped.

   I grinned.  "Uh, I think we can take a pass on roller-blading, you
know..."

   Giggle.  "Okay.  So I'm guessing TV, then."

   "Yeah.  That too.  D'you think we could do my laptop?"

   "Yeah, I think I could probably navigate the complexities of modern
consumer electronics."

   "And you could be a huge smartass while doing it." I reached towards
her. She saw that and stepped closer.  Her fingers wrapped mine and
squeezed.

   "Lemme go get your laptop." She disappeared a minute and returned.  Two
minutes later the computer was plugged in, booting up, her chair pushed up
against the side of my recliner, and I smelled a whiff of perfume as she
leaned in towards me.

   "I just want to see my email," I said.

   "Oh, sure, I understand.  You gotta catch up with all your online babes
an' stuff."

   "Yeah, and you can read every bit of that.  And my work stuff, too."

   My personal email was mostly hobby groups and ads.  My work stuff, well,
they officially knew of my status, but that didn't stop the email.  Since I
was relegated to right hand only, I dictated a few answers for Ronni to
type.  I had her add a line to my signature file to denote that fact, too.

   There were the normal cute photos and jokes and we both laughed at a few
and shook our heads at others, and I noted how close she was.  Finishing my
stuff, I asked, "D'you need to check yours?"

   "Sure," she said.  "If you don't mind."

   I don't mind," I said.  I sat back like I was giving her some privacy.

   "Uh-uh," she said.  "You showed me yours.  I'll show you mine." Then she
giggled when she realized what she'd just said.  I watched her run through
a bunch of Facebook stuff.  She kept a running commentary about who's who
among her Facebook friends.  I noted several boys her age.

   "ANY of them among your prospects?" I asked.

   "Oh, no," she said.  "Not even close.  Just kids I go to school with. 
That's not what I'm looking for, babe," she said.

   "Oh," I answered.  I felt a little bad, knowing how she felt about me.
"Hmmmm," I said.  "You smell good." She did.

   Her face turned to me, those brown eyes warm and caring.  "Thank you for
noticing, Dave.  That's sweet."

   "It's difficult NOT to notice, babe," I said.

   Our eyes locked together briefly before she turned away.  She closed the
laptop and sat it off to the side on the end table.  Turning back, her
right hand touched my right arm.  Her left went up to gently touch my
forehead.  "One of these days," she said, "I..." and there was a knock on
the door.

   She jumped up to answer the knock.  Home health nurse.  Late today,
because of the doctor's appointment.  Oh, well.  The next forty-five
minutes were filled with poking and prodding and an examination of my
de-stitched head and arm and leg.

   "When are you supposed to see the doctor again," she asked.

   "In a week.  How do things look?"

   "Pretty good, actually.  They did good work.  You finally got those
stitches out, and that'll help the way your arm and leg feels.  Are you
able to stand?"

   "A little," I said.  "Ronni helps."

   "Good.  Moving's good." She left, promising to return the same time the
next day.

   After the door closed, Ronni was back at my side.  This time she perched
on the arm of my chair and stroked my face.  "Mmmmm, that feels good,
babe," I said.

   "I like when you call me pet names, Dave." Her fingers traced the
bandage on my forehead.

   "You've been calling me "babe", too.  I like it.  It's nice to be a
little bit special to somebody." I closed my eyes.

   "That's what I was gonna say, Dave.  You're more than a little special
to me." She sighed.

   "I want to be, Ronni."

   She slid off the arm of the chair and knelt beside me, resting her
forearms on the arm of the chair.  With my good hand I lightly touched her
face, brushing that plain brown hair out of her face, and noting that brown
was suddenly strands of walnut and copper and "plain" had a new meaning,
like polished walnut burls were just plain brown wood.  She took my hand
and pressed my fingertips to her lips.

   "Dave," she said, eyes serious, a bit frightened.  "You ...  uh, Dave,
is it silly for me to think that I love you?"

   Since her mom had spilled the story, I was expecting something.  "Ronni,
I'm eighteen years older than you, little one."

   "I know, Dave.  You've tutored me in math for ten years.  I can count.
Does me being a kid make a difference in things?"

   "It just means we're both crazy, Ronni.  But I ...  I love you, too,
Ronni."

   Her eyes went wet.  Tears.  "Y ...  you do?  Really?  Dave?  Me?  Why?"

   "Because you're cute and smart and funny and good.  And when I think of
the last ten years, the times I've had the biggest smile on my face, you
were there and you were the reason, and it's crazy because you're so young
but I can't help it."

   "Oh, Dave," she cried, putting her arms around my neck.  Her lips met
mine, softly, then as my tongue touched them, they parted and her tongue
met mine.  The kiss broke with her whisper.  "Dave, I love you.  When you
got hurt and they took you away I was crying to Mom that I loved you and
never told you.  And now I've told you."

   I stroked the back of her head then slowly stroked her back.  "I wish I
had two arms, Ronni.  I want to hold you in them." "I want you to hold me.
I want to hold you."

   "We'll have our time, baby.  Have patience," I said.

   "I don't though.  Dave, baby, I feel like a dam has burst." She kissed
me again.

   "I know, little brown-haired girl.  But we have to take things as they
are, not what we wish they were." I sighed.  "And right now I need to get
rid of two cups of coffee and a glass of orange juice."

   She pulled back and stood, grinning.  "That's one of the things that
draws me to you, babe.  You have such a way with words." She started to get
the wheelchair.

   "No," I said.  "Help me hobble." Together we made our way to the
bathroom.  She supported me as I balanced most of my weight on my good
right leg and with my right hand tried to fish my dick out to pee.

   "Wait," she said.  She started popping snaps and dropped my pajamas,
exposing me.  "Now, don't pee on your pajamas.  I haven't put your other
pair in the dryer yet." And she didn't turn her head this time.  When I was
finished, she pulled my PJ's up and snapped them up.  "Better?" she asked.

   "Better.  I was about to pop." Hobbling back to the living room, I let
her support me.  And I was back in my chair, feet up.

   "Now, where were we?" I asked.

   "We had just decided that we loved each other."

   "No, I've been loving you for ages.  I just figured there was no way I'd
ever be able to tell you." I reached for her hand.

   "Me too, Dave.  I was so scared that one day I was gonna come home and
you were going to be sitting out there with some woman."

   "And I kept hoping you weren't gonna come over and say, "Hi, this is my
boyfriend.  We're getting married."

   "Wow, Dave.  And we didn't know..."

   I smiled and kissed her.  "Now we know..." Plain little Ronni wasn't
plain any more.  Not in my eyes.

   "Now what?" Ronni asked.  "I'm kinda new to this whole "boyfriend"
thing."

   "We have things all mixed up, Ronni," I said.  "We're supposed to go on
dates and I'm supposed to take you to movies and try and convince you to
let me kiss you then put my hands down your blouse ...  That whole
"seduction" thing.  But us, well, you've already seen me naked ...  there's
not an inch on me YOU haven't seen already."

   Giggle.  "You're right, babe." She kissed me.  "But you've never ever
acted like you were interested in me ...  like seduction an' all that."

   "Because you're my best friend.  Who'd ever try to seduce his best
friend?"

   "Dave"' she said, "I go to high school.  I know guys who'd seduce their
dying mothers.  I've heard stories.  I've had girls cry on my shoulder."

   "I'm not like that, Ronni," I said.

   Her fingertips traced my jaw.  "I know, Dave.  Don't you think I notice
things?"

   "I notice things too, Ron," I said.  "Like you going to prom a month
ago. With a guy."

   "Yeah," she said, brown eyes staring into mine.  "Jason's, uh ...  gay.
But in the closet.  He's been a friend for years and I know about him and I
don't think hardly anybody else does." Ronni.  Sometimes when she talked,
words just sort of tumbled out.

   "You two made a cute couple, Ronni.  I was happy for you, even though I
died a little watching you leave." I sighed.

   She keyed on my sigh and gave me a little soft kiss.  "You needn't
worry, Dave.  I saw you watching us leave.  I was wishing I was just going
out to dinner with you like we used to do after my games, you know.  Just
some stupid fast food and you and me sitting across the table eating and
talking."

   I smiled.

   She continued.  "Dave, I'm not a silly little girl.  I just wanted to
look at you and see you smile and know that your smile was for me and
because of me.  I've seen you do that before, but I wanted ...  I wanted it
to be love.  I wanted to be yours."

   "You're talking about after the last game of the season, aren't you?" I
asked.

   She smiled softly.  "Yes.  Why'd you think about that time?"

   "Let's see," I said.  "You were still wearing your uniform.  Your hair
was cut a week before, and it was in perfect disarray.  Your face was
glowing, you were happy that your team won and that you scored two runs and
knocked in two more.  And you were giggly and your eyes twinkle when you're
happy."

   She smiled.  "Gosh..."

   I continued.  "And I so desperately wanted to be eighteen and your
boyfriend so I could wrap my arms around you and soak up the happiness
pouring out of you..."

   "Dave," she said, "I was happy because of all of that.  And because I
was with you."

   "But I'm old enough to be your dad, Ronni.  What about guys your own
age?"

   She shook her head.  "Just not interested, Dave.  I don't know why.  I
have some friends, but every time I looked at one of them, nothing ...  and
talk?  Have you ever talked with teenagers?  Besides me, I mean?"

   "Yeah, but not seriously, babe," I said.

   "They can't talk seriously, Dave.  What was the last conversation you
and I had?"

   "You asked something about the space program.  We ended up talking for
an hour about rockets and German scientists.  Why?"

   "Because I was trying to talk about that book you gave me, "Confederacy
of Dunces" with a guy and when he found out it wasn't about the Three
Stooges, he quit listening."

   "He wasn't the right one, babe, ' I said.

   "And you're the one who looks at me with those damned blue eyes and
calls me "babe", Dave.  You always have.  But since I turned thirteen, the
"babe" part stopped."

   "Uh-huh," I said.  "'Babe' is good for little girls, but when you turned
thirteen, 'babe' means something different."

   "But you called me babe in the hospital..."

   "I know, Ron," I said, "I guess I was so happy that the first face I saw
every time I woke up was yours.  You were there for me.  And I guess I
decided that you were a whole different babe."

   "Nobody else ever called me babe like that, Dave." She turned her gaze
away for a second, then looked back at me.  "I've loved you for a long
time, Dave."

   "I didn't think this was a spur of the moment thing, Ronni.  You're not
like that."

   "I'm NOT like that.  You're right, babe.  There!  I called YOU "babe".
And you're..." she paused.  "Uh, Dave, Mom knows I love you."

   "You told her?  When?"

   "The day of your accident." She took a breath.  "When the ambulance left
with you and I was in the house changing to go to the hospital, I told
her."

   "Ronni..." I admitted, "She told me that."

   "She did?  When?"

   "Today.  I told her ...  she asked that I not tell you ...  but she's
just trying to protect you, in case I..."

   "In case you didn't...  " she looked at me with soft eyes, "love me like
that..."

   "But I DO love you like that ...  whatever 'that' is.  And I think now
that if you didn't know that I knew..."

   "Babe," she said, "thank you for telling me.  Mom told me to be careful
what I wish for."

   "Your mom and dad are two of the finest people I know of, Ronni.  I'm
proud to call them friends."

   "Mom thinks I'm strange sometimes, Dave," she said.  "And Dad." She
paused.  "Did she say anything about Dad?"

   "Yeah, she told 'im."

   Ronni smiled.  "Then if she told YOU after she told Dad, I imagine that
Dad isn't having me sent off to Washington State to live with my maiden
aunt..."

   I told her what her dad was reported to have said.  She giggled.

   "Sure, you giggle now, but what am I supposed to do?  I mean, I'm
eighteen years older than you.  And I love you."

   Giggle.  "yeah," she mused, "You're gonna look strange hanging out with
me at the mall..."

   "I never thought you were the mall rat type ...  I guess I could turn my
hat sideways and get some pants that hang down around my ass.  Uh, and
tattoos.  I need tattoos.  All the cool guys have tattoos."

   "You get a tattoo and I'm gonna take Dad's belt sander and erase it
myself..." Her laughter tinkled like bells.

   "So I can safely assume that you haven't snuck off and gotten a tattoo?"
I chuckled.

   "Nope.  And the only things I have pierced are my ears."

   I knew about those ears.  She normally sported tiny silver spheres,
occasionally costume gems.  Now I wanted to nibble on them.  Oh, well,
nothing ventured, and all that.  With my right hand I pulled her close and
nibbled.  She dissolved into happy giggles and squeals.

   "Nobody's ever done that before, Dave ...  Not that I would have let
them." She tittered.  "But YOU..." she kissed me lightly on the lips and
then turned her head.  "Again!"

   Ear.  Neck.  And there's a tug at my heart that only one arm was free to
hug and hold this brown-haired angel.  And she was grinning broadly.

   "I think I like having you for a boyfriend, Dave."

   I brushed her face gently with my fingertips.  "Thank you, cutie," I
said.  "You're a doll, you know."

   "I'm not, you know..." she said.

   "You aren't looking with the same eyes I'm using, babe.  " My fingers
traced the eyebrows over those brown eyes.  Big brown eyes.  Then down the
bridge of her nose.

   "Dave, you're prejudiced." She smiled.  "And I don't mind a bit."

   My index finger traced her cheek, youthful, firm, to the corner of her
mouth.  She turned her head and kissed it, eyes twinkling.

   I stroked her hair, my fingers touching her neck, simply enjoying the
tactile information that corroborated what my eyes saw.  She laid her head
against my chest and shoulder.

   "Dave," she said, "this all changes things."

   "Yes it does, princess.  Lots of things."

   "I'm talking about tonight." She sighed.  Her head lifted and she looked
at me, her face close to me.

   "What about tonight?" I asked.

   "I've been sleeping in your bed, Dave.  Because you're hurt and if you
needed something, you know ...  We kinda thought it was alright because
you're hurt and all that.  And I knew you wouldn't do anything, and I knew
I wouldn't do anything ...  in bed, I mean.  But now..."

   "You're worried I'll try something, Ronni?"

   "Or I might," she said.  Her eyes...

   "If you're uncomfortable, sweetness, then you're welcome to use
Brittney's room." My daughter's bedroom was almost museum-like except for
the month she visited in the summer and for the holiday week of either
Thanksgiving or Christmas.  I continued, "But Ron, I was able to control
myself so far, you know..."

   "I know," she said.  "And I was, too."

   "Sooo?" I questioned.

   "I mean, Dave ...  Sex." She looked at me with shades of nervousness in
her eyes.

   "Ronni, you know about sex.  And so do I.  I've managed to restrain
myself."

   "I know, Dave," she said.

   "I just found out you loved me today, angel," I said.  "Do you think
that I think that means I disregard your feelings?  People can love each
other and NOT..."

   "I know, babe," she said.  "But would it be bad if I still sleep with
you?  And maybe snuggle a little closer?  It felt so good when you touched
my face while ago.  And we kissed."

   And heaven help me, but I answered, "No, baby.  I would love to have you
snuggle with me.  And kiss me."



   ------

   Chapter 4

   "Help me into the wheelchair, babe.  I need to go to the bathroom.  That
coffee."

   Ronni stood and helped me up, an act that still brought pains.  I sat
rather heavily in the wheelchair and she rolled me to the bathroom.  With
help I stood and started to use my right arm to attend to my needs.

   "Nuh-uh, babe," she said.  "let me..."

   I kept my good right arm around her shoulder.  She supported me with her
left, and with her right hand she unsnapped those accursed pajamas.  When
the last snap parted she looked at me.  "Uh, purely clinical, okay?" And
she reached her fingers inside and caught my dick.  "I've never done this
before, Dave," she said.  "I just watched you."

   Now, if you've ever tried to pee with a sweet girl holding your dick for
the first time, then you might understand my problem.  I wanted to go.  I
needed to go.  But I couldn't go.  I explained the problem to her and she
started giggling.

   "I'm sorry," she said in between chuckles.  "I was really trying to
help."

   "Let me take a few deep breaths," I countered.  I breathed.  Tried not
to look into her eyes as she waited patiently.  After a few moments I said,
"Okay.  It's getting ready to.  Just don't let me pee on the floor."

   Giggling, she played the stream around the toilet.

   "Drawing designs in the bubbles is NOT clinical, little girl child," I
said.  "Now shake it."

   She didn't shake it.  She tore off some toilet paper and dabbed it dry.
"There," she announced, then tried putting it back in my pajamas.  She was
successful, but couldn't refasten the snaps with only one hand.

   "Is it too early for us to get you in bed?" she asked.

   "No, it's not.  Let's go." I said.  We hobbled back into the bedroom and
she helped me lie down.

   "Do you want a pain pill now, babe?" she asked.

   "Not yet.  Let's lay here and watch TV for a while."

   "Okay," she said.  "I'm gonna get my shower.  Here's the remote." She
put the control in my right hand and then left, stopping to kiss me gently.

   I heard the shower run, then stop, then the hair dryer.  And then she
bounced back into the bedroom wearing that darned nightshirt.  "Put your
arm out, babe," she said.

   I stuck my right arm out and she cuddled into it.  Very pleasant
feelings came over me.  My nostrils flared as I turned my head to nuzzle
her.  "Mmmmm, you smell good, angel," I said.

   "I'm trying to be careful, babe," she said, turning to face me.  "I've
wanted to do this for so long, and now you're fragile." Her face met mine,
lips first.  The kiss was ...  hot.

   "Where'd you learn to kiss, baby?" I asked.

   "I dunno," she said.  "I haven't kissed a boy since I was ten."

   "Then you were made for me to kiss, angel."

   She smiled and kissed me again.  I did the best I could to hug her with
one arm.  Her night-shirt-clad body was pressing against my side.

   She giggled.  "Babe, it's a good thing you're crippled.  If you
weren't..."

   "If I wasn't?  What?"

   "Hush," she said, silencing me with kisses.

   I accepted her kisses and answered with my own.  I wrapped her with my
good arm, fitting my hand on her waist, feeling her feminine firmness
beneath my hand.  The thought crossed my mind that this was the first time
I'd touched Ronni except for the occasional "Help me climb up THERE" sort
of events in a young person's life.  And now she was no longer a generic
"young person", she was a soft feminine form dressed in panties and night
shirt, she was in MY bed, and she said she loved ME.  My life was changing.

   So was hers.  She giggled.  "I like you holding me, baby."

   "I wish I had two good arms, sweetness," I said.  Well, I sort of had an
arm and a half.  I could swing my left arm up and over her, but with the
soreness and the tugging of the healing rift, the arm was useless for
hugging.

   She had two hands, though, and she caressed my face as she kissed me and
never in my life had I felt as loved as seeing those brown eyes sparkling
in front of me as our lips parted.  I felt her body shift.  "Tell me if I
start hurting you, babe.  I've never snuggled with a guy before.  And I
don't want to hurt you." She eased her right leg over me, insinuating her
body snugly against mine.

   "That doesn't hurt a bit.  Matter of fact, that's the finest feeling
I've had in ten years." It was.  I didn't realize how much I missed a hug
that went past the one you gave your kids or your sister or a happy
co-worker.  Ronni's leg over me, her smiling face, and all desires I ever
had of being possessed by a loving partner came tumbling out of dark
recesses of my memory, and compared with the sweet, soft innocence of
Ronni, those memories faded.  This was better.

   It got better than that.  Ronni's hand slid in between the snaps of
those accursed convalescent pajamas and gingerly, tentatively caressed my
chest, at least the undamaged right side.  I was overwhelmed and one
particular part of me was more overwhelmed than the rest.  And it was
pressing against the inside of Ronni's thigh.

   She slowly moved her thigh.  And giggled.  "I feel that, Dave," she
said. "I'll stop..." She kissed me.  "This is all new to me ...  I mean, I
listen to the girl talk an' stuff.  But it feels so good to be so close to
you, babe.  I don't mean to tease you, though..."

   "This is the best I've felt in years," I repeated.  I kissed her as my
right hand touched her chastely.

   "It's the best I've felt, EVER!" she purred.  "I knew that if you and I
could hold each other, it would be like magic." Her smile, coupled with
happy eyes ...  that was magic.  Her leg moved again, rubbing.

   Her eyes connected with mine.  "I've touched that before, Dave."

   "Yeah, babe, but that was different." I sighed.  "Baby, we just found
out we loved each other."

   "Mmmm, Dave," she countered, "I've known I loved you for years, you
know..."

   "And I've loved you for years too, Ronni.  But..." My protests
disappeared as slender fingers traced their way down from my chest.  When
her fingers slid under my waistband, I caught my breath.  "I should stop
you, Ronni."

   "Why would you, Dave?  Don't you think I'm old enough to know what I'm
doing?"

   "Are you?  Ronni ...  I love you.  But I don't want to take advantage of
you."

   "Too late, Dave.  You've been taking advantage of me for ten years,
being nice and decent and caring.  Now it's too late.  I'm in love with
you. And ...  you said you love me too, Dave."

   "I do, Ronni," I said.

   "D'ya mean it?" Her face was mere inches from mine, her brown eyes soft,
that slightly crooked nose, those wet lips.

   "Yes, I mean it, Ronni."

   "Ya know, Dave, I go to school and I know a lot about kids my age.  I
don't think I'm like that."

   "I don't think you're like that, babe," I admitted.

   "Darned straight, Dave.  For one thing, I'm still a virgin.  Another
thing.  I haven't thought I've been in love sixteen times like most girls
my age.  And I've got BOTH my original parents still married to each other
and I think they're great and they love each other.  And that's how I want
to be.  US to be"

   "Ooooo-kayyyy..." I answered.

   Ronni was on a roll.  "D'ya think that ...  Wait!  D'ya know how old Mom
is?"

   I knew this.  I'd been at Rena's last birthday party.  She was
thirty-six.  "Yes, Ron," I said.  What's that got to do with this?"

   "They were married TWO YEARS when I was born.  Mom was NINETEEN when I
was born.  She got MARRIED when she was my age.  She met Dad because he
used to come in where she worked after school.  And Dad's older..."

   I interrupted.  "Ronni, I know.  Your dad's ten years older than your
mom.  I know all that.  I know your parents.  So what are you saying?"

   "I'm saying that it is just possible that a seventeen year old girl just
MIGHT be mature enough to decide ...  Uh, David Johnson, REAL love is
forever..."

   "I know, Ronni," I answered.  "that's the scary part..."

   She'd pulled her hand out of my waistband.  It was on my chest and she
was resting her chin on it, gazing into my eyes.  "Why's it scary, babe?"

   "Dear little one," I said, "It's scary because I put my heart into this
and I think it's forever ...  and I can tell you how it hurts when the
other person decides that it's not."

   "You're talking about when Mizz Lisa left, aren't you?"

   "Yes, baby."

   "I'm not her, Dave.  I know what forever is..."

   "So what you're saying, Ronni, is that you love me forever..."

   "Like in Mom and Dad "forever", Dave."

   "There's another thing, Ron," I said.  "It's a big thing."

   "What?" she looked worried.

   "Uh, baby ...  that's it: babies.  I can't make any.  When Brittney as
born, there was something wrong with Lisa and it would have been dangerous
for her to get pregnant again.  So I got fixed.  I can't make babies."

   "So what?  Do YOU need a baby from ME to show that we love each other?
Does a baby seal the deal?"

   "It didn't with Lisa," I admitted.

   "We'll borrow some.  The countryside's crawlin' with 'em," she giggled
at her own joke.  "I love YOU!"

   And inside my head thoughts were running a mile a minute.  I know that
the normal thing was to meet somebody, spend weeks and months dating and
getting to know them, their habits, likes, dislikes and then, after careful
thought, the subject of marriage could be sensibly considered.  And I
thought about me and Ronni.  I knew Ronni.  Possibly the only person on the
planet that I knew more about than Ronni was me, and sometimes I wondered
about me.

   I thought about times I was driving Ronni across the state, two or three
hours in a car together, laughing, talking, on the way to or from a sports
tournament and I knew Ronni's taste in music and movies and TV.  I'd
tutored her for years in academics, and I knew what she was like when she
was frustrated and disappointed and aggravated.  I'd seen her win and I'd
seen her lose and I'd watched her interact with her team-mates, and I knew
that those eyes six inches from mine were the property of a quite decent
person.  Young, maybe, but level-headed.  And smart.  Not 4.0, but almost.

   And as the program ran in my head, I could see the register filling up
on the "don't be a dumb-ass.  She's the ONE" branch of the program.

   I sighed.  "Ronni, I love you.  Like in "forever".  I think you and
I..."

   Her eyes brightened.  "Belong together.  Like Mom and Dad."

   "Yes.  Does that scare you?" I asked.

   "No, Dave.  It makes me feel happy.  And cared for.  And secure." She
smiled.  "I know you, Dave.  You're my best friend, but you know that we've
been around each other for ten years."

   It sounded like she was mirroring my own thoughts.

   She continued.  "I used to lay awake at night and go through the list of
things that I liked about you and that I didn't like.  That last list is
short.  And silly.  And when I thought about it, and I thought that I loved
you, I used to think what it would be like if we were married.  Like, would
I change, or would you change.  Do you think you'd change?"

   "No.  Are you saying..."

   "That I thought about marrying you?  Yes." She smiled.

   Oh, well.  Dive off the cliff, Dave.  "Veronica Jameson, will you marry
me?"

   Squeal.  "Yes, David Johnson, I will marry you." And she kissed me. 
"Now what?" and a little giggle.  "I've never been engaged before."

   "I need to give you an engagement ring.  And we need to set a date.  And
you tell all your friends and they get all squealy and stuff, and they plan
your wedding and you have a wedding shower and..."

   "God, no, Dave.  That's not how we'll do it, if you don't mind, babe."

   I grinned at her.  "Goodness, Ronni!  You've given this a lot of
thought."

   "I have, Dave." She had that wrinkle over her nose that was her "I'm
determined" look.

   "Then how do YOU want to do this?" I asked.

   "We tell Mom and Dad.  Because they have to sign for me to get married
since I'm only seventeen.  And we have a simple wedding.  If you want your
brother and sister, and of course Mom and Dad, and then we can go off for a
little honeymoon somewhere."

   "Your dad will be relieved to hear that.  What about your mom?"

   "Mom and Dad got married in the pastor's office of Grandma's church. 
She thinks those big weddings are a waste of money.  But they'd try.  But
why would we want to do all that?  You and I and our families are what's
important, right?"

   "You're a wise young lady, babe."

   "And I want a wedding band.  No diamond.  Just a band."

   "Babe, I'd buy you a diamond the size of a doorknob..."

   "And then I'd have what?  A piece of carbon on my finger?  Nope.  A gold
band."

   "Okay.  As soon as I can get out of the house, babe."

   She smiled.  "Would it be too soon to tell Mom?"

   "I don't think your mom's gonna be surprised, sweetie."

   "I don't think so either," she smiled.  "But I'm about to burst ...  I
gotta tell SOMEBODY!"

   "Call her, then.  After you kiss me one more time.  That way, when she
comes over here with a butcher knife and stabs me fifteen times for
molesting her daughter, I'll die with your kiss on my lips."

   "Daaaave," she giggled, picking up my cellphone.  She punched the button
to dial her house.  "Hi, mom," she said.  "No, nothing's wrong.  Everything
is VERY right." She paused.  "Mom, Dave just asked me to marry him."

   I could hear the squeal coming out of the phone from a foot away.

   Ronni continued.  "Yeah, we talked about it.  For a while.  And Mom, it
just makes sense." Another pause.  Ronni looked at me.  "Dave, Mom wants to
come over."

   "Tell her okay, but leave the knives at home."

   Ronni giggled as she repeated the answer.  She looked at me.  "She wants
to know if you remember if Dad's chainsaw will start..."

   "No, tell her that she can beat me to death with a clawhammer."

   Ronni said, "Okay, Mom.  I'll be at the front door." Ronni climbed out
of bed.  And the little minx reached under the covers and gave my dick a
squeeze.  And left the room giggling.

   I heard the door open and a pair of squeals.  The squeals were happy
noises, therefore I stopped fretting over the idea of an angry mother
assaulting my crippled ass.  The pair showed up in the bedroom, Ronni still
in that nightshirt, her mom in a terrycloth robe with the embroidered name
of a hotel chain over the left breast.

   Ronni smiled.  "Mom, our neighbor and best friend is now my fiancĂ(C)."

   Rena's eyebrow arched.  "Well, I guess this is..."

   "Not a surprise?" I said.  "Of course I still need to formally ask Alex
for the hand of his daughter in marriage."

   Rena laughed.  "Oh, he's gonna make you take ALL of her..."

   "Mommmm!" Ronni giggled.

   Rena said, "You can ask him tomorrow, Dave.  He's coming in, probably
midafternoon."

   "I'm looking forward to seeing him again." I was honest.  Alex was what
we called "good people", hard-working, bright, knowledgeable in a rather
esoteric field, and he and I'd fished together many times over the years
and were constantly trying to outdo one another in outdoor cooking.

   "Yeah," Rena said.  "He's really sorry he hasn't been around since you
got out of the hospital."

   "Man's gotta work," I said.

   Ronni chirped, "Well, Mom, what about your future son-in-law?"

   "Good choice, babe," Rena said.  She leaned over and kissed me on the
cheek.  "Like he HASN'T been a member of this family all along, huh?"

   Ronni stood beside the bed, her fingers entwined in my own.  "We belong
together," she smiled.

   "Okay, Miss Belong Together, just remember he's crippled and be careful,
okay?" Rena smiled.  "I'm gonna go home now.  I'll bring ya'll breakfast in
the morning.  I'll call to make sure you're awake."

   "Thanks, Rena," I said.  "I appreciate it."

   "Thanks, Mom," Ronni chirped.  I heard her escort her mom to the front
door, then the click of the lock.  A smiling Ronni returned to the bedroom.

   I was laying there with a grin on my face.

   "Oh, don't be so full of yourself, Dave.  Come on.  I know you need to
go to the bathroom, and I don't want you waiting and waking me up in the
middle of a good dream."

   "Okay, nurse," I said.  I reached up and grabbed the trapeze bar and
pulled myself up to sitting, swinging my legs to the edge of the bed.

   Ronni smiled.  "See!  You're getting better every day!" She offered her
arm and I stood beside her, letting her assist me to the bathroom.  Inside,
she said, "Can you stand without me holding you?"

   "Yeah, I think so," I answered.

   She unsnapped my pajamas and let them drop, then unsnapped the legs to
remove them.  I was naked from the waist down, except for the blue splint
wrapping my left leg from mid-thigh down to my foot.  She unsnapped the
snaps on the leg of the convalescent pajamas and they fell the rest of the
way to the floor.  "There!" she announced.  "Now tinkle!"

   I complied.  Finishing, I performed the standard shake.

   "Nuh-uh!" She handed me a wad of toilet paper.

   Okay.  I dabbed.  "Now help me get these back up."

   "Why?  They're awfully inconvenient."

   "I am trying to maintain decorum, young lady.  If we lose the trappings
of civilization..."

   She smiled.  "Oh, you're always so practical." She helped me pull my
pajamas back on.  Then kissed me.  Standing.  Supporting me as I rested
most of my weight on my right leg.  I wrapped her with an arm and a half.
My right arm felt her, warm, soft, desirable.

   "Mmmm", she purred.  "Let's put you back in the bed.  It's getting
late." Together we got me back in bed, then she went around to lay on my
good side.  As she scooted next to me, she said, "Now, where were we?" She
insinuated her leg over me.

   I said, "And now we're all respectable?"

   "As respectable as I can be, in bed with my fiancĂ(C), babe," she
giggled.  "And we both have our clothes on and we're keeping our hands to
ourselves." Her hand went inside my pajama top.  Giggle.  "Mostly."

   "Getting awfully free with our hands, aren't we, babe?" I commented.

   "Uh-huh," she giggled.  "Want me to stop?"

   "Did I say that?" I flopped my left arm over my chest.  The movement was
painful, but my fingers could move enough to lightly caress her covered
breast.  She didn't protest.  "Do you want ME to stop?" I asked.  I didn't
want to stop.  My fingertips traced the gentle curve of a firm young
breast.

   Her breathing pattern changed noticeably with the first touch.  "Noooo,"
she said softly.  "Never."

   My fingertips touched her nipple and a shudder shook her.  She released
her breath with a hiss.  "Gahhh, Dave.  Wait!" Her hands grabbed the hem of
her nightshirt and pulled it up, exposing sweet flesh.  "Now!"

   My fingertips touched her bare breast for the first time.  "Mmmmm," I
said.  "Perfect!" Her lips met mine, our kiss modulated by the tracings of
my fingertips around the nipple I could reach that damaged left arm.

   "I wish I could kiss you there, babe."

   "I can help you with that, sweetheart," she said, shifting herself to
put her right nipple in front of my face.  I bent forward to kiss it.  Then
my tongue circled it.  That was too much, the first time.  She pulled back.
"Gahhhh ...  too much, babe!" She took a deep breath and leaned forward to
present herself to me again.  I sucked her nipple, teasing its pert pink
hardness with my tongue.

   "Oh, Dave, I never imagined it could feel that good..."

   "I quite enjoyed it myself, babe," I said.

   She scooted back down in my arm and her hand strayed downward on my
belly.  She kissed me.  "I'm teasing you, ain't I?" she asked.

   "No, but you are indeed arousing feelings like I haven't felt in years,
babe." I kissed her back.

   Her fingertips insinuated themselves under the waistband of my pajamas.
It was my turn to suck in a breath.  "D'you..." And she slid her hand
inside my pajamas.  This wasn't the first time she'd touched my dick. 
Except maybe it was a penis for all those other times, when she was
dutifully bathing me.  And I was dutifully concentrating on NOT getting
aroused.

   This was not one of those times, and her fingers touched a DICK that was
hard and expectant and a soft giggle escaped her lips.  She looked into my
eyes and grinned.  "You don't know how much I've wanted to just PLAY with
this thing..."

   "Gahhhh!" I gasped.

   She continued, "Because it belongs to YOU and I wanted to make YOU feel
good..." and she kissed me.  "And I figured I'd have fun with it, too..."
Her fingers explored the length of my shaft.  "Does it feel good, Dave?"

   "Oh, god, yes, babe..."

   "Can I get this stuff out of the way?" she asked.

   "Stuff?"

   "Covers.  Your pants..."

   "Anything you want." What was I going to do?  Argue with my best friend
who just tonight had become my fiancĂ(C)e ...  my lover?

   Squeal.  She bounced out of bed, pulled the covers down and unsnapped my
pajamas, freeing me to her view.  And then I got the benefit of her
stripping that nightshirt off and then with a lascivious grin, she hooked
her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down and off. 
"It's only fair, don'tcha think?  I mean, I've seen every inch of YOU."

   I stared.  "Ronni, you're beautiful." I thought she was.  That stuff I
said earlier about "Plain"?  It goes away when you find out you love
somebody.  Slender, long-legged, not an ounce of fat, but not grotesquely
muscled, either.  Small breasts carried high and proud on her chest, flat
belly, hips flaring only slightly with femininity, a thin dusting of fine
dark hair on her mons.  She was cute.  And to me, beautiful.

   "To you, maybe, Dave," she smiled.  "And that's good enough.  Perfect,
really." Her eyes surveyed me naked for a moment, the first time she'd done
it for purely recreational purposes.  "You're a lot, uh, bigger today than
the other day, babe." She smiled.

   "I was trying NOT to be hard the other day.  Today I let it get as hard
as it wants." I jumped a bit as her fingers wrapped around it.

   "Did I hurt you?" she asked.

   "Oh, no, babe.  It feels so good that I kinda jumped."

   Giggle.  "Like when you kissed my titty?"

   "Yeah.  I hope I make you feel as good as you are making me feel." I
reached my good arm out and brushed my fingers through the hair on her
pubic mount.  It was her turn to jump.

   "Oh, Dave..." she moved closer so I could reach further between her
legs. As my fingertips traced between her thighs along the puffy lips of
her virgin pussy, she shuddered.  She moved forward to lock her mouth on
mine.

   "You're the very first, Dave ...  I wanted you to be the first..." she
whispered.  "I'm soooo wet there."

   She was.  My fingertip slipped between those firm lips and into her
secret place.  I let my digit explore as she writhed slowly under my touch.
Gently, tentatively, my fingertip found the pea-like head of her little
clit and I softly brushed it.  "Nnnnnnghhhh, ohgod!" One of her hands
grasped my wrist.  "There!" she hissed.  She buried her face in my neck and
I complied with her instruction, my fingertip gently circling and flicking
her clit, amply lubricated by the juices of her excitement.

   In a minute she was shuddering and whimpering through an orgasm, then
collapsing in my arms, sobbing.  "Oh, Dave, that's ...  I ...  I love you
so much..."

   I accepted that, kissing her face.  "Are you okay, baby?"

   "Gosh, yes, ' she sighed.  "I've ...  I've never been better.  You made
me feel sooooo good!"

   "You're my angel, Ronni.  I want to make you feel good..."

   "You did, baby.  I've never felt anything like that before..." She
crawled half on top of me and smothered me with kisses.  "Can I ...  what
can I do?  I want to..." she turned, half-sitting, to regard the hardness
she was holding in her hand.

   I was very hard and very close.  The spectacle of this nude and sexy
girl in my arms, coming hard, I was beyond excited.  I was on a hair
trigger myself.  "Just play, babe.  Hold it in your hand lightly so that
the skin slides up and down and stroke it gently."

   She bit her bottom lip and smiled as she complied.  I gave over my
control to her as she followed instruction.

   "Look at all that stuff," she said.  "Is that your uh ...  semen?"

   "No, babe.  Semen is milky.  That's a lubricant to make it easier when
we ...  when you get me inside you."

   "Oh," she said.  "I didn't know that." She smiled, one hand working up
and down my dick.  Her other hand explored my scrotum, lightly gripping my
balls, feeling them.  "Wow!  I feel this changing in my hand.  It's getting
all tight."

   "Ohgod.  I'mclose, Ronni!" I wanted to thrust but that bad leg stopped
me.  I remained in her control.  I was in good hands.  A few more seconds
of her hands at play and the first fiery surge erupted, sending a glob of
semen arching to who knows where.

   She squealed.

   "Keep doing it, babe," I gasped.  The second squirt arced onto my chest.
The third landed on my belly, then a continuous flow covered her hand.

   "Now THAT'S semen, huh?" she grinned.  "I had no idea it would squirt
like that.  They make it sound so dull in health class."

   I was trying to get my breathing under control after the first orgasm
I'd had in ten years that wasn't the result of my own hand.

   "Are you okay, baby?" she asked.

   "Very much okay, love," I answered.

   "I'll be back," she said.  She left and returned with a wet washcloth
and began cleaning up the mess.  "Is there always this much?"

   "No baby.  But this is the first one that I didn't do myself since Lisa
left.  And Lisa didn't compare to you."

   "You're sweet, Dave, but you don't have to say that."

   "Baby, it is completely true." I tugged her to me with my good arm and
did my best to roll over on my right side to face her.  "Ronni, little one,
you're my everything."

   "You're mine too, Dave." She molded herself against me.  "You need to
understand something, baby."

   "What's that, little angel?"

   She sighed.  "It's ...  Us.  It's not about sex.  There's plenty of guys
out there to have sex with if that's all I wanted.  But you ...  I LOVE
you. I want to be loved.  I want US to love ...  each other."

   I kissed her brown hair.  "Yes, baby, I understand.  I never wanted to
settle for anything but perfect.  And you're perfect.  You're the part of
me that's been missing."

   Giggle.  "The missing piece?  I guess we'll have fun making the pieces
fit, huh?"

   "In due time, sweetie.  We have..."

   She finished my sentence.  "A lifetime together."

   "Yes, we do, angel," I said.

   She reached over and punched up late-night classical music and turned
out the lamp and we slid to sleep in each other's arms.



   ------

   Chapter 5

   Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning Ronni retrieved her
nightshirt, because when I saw her get out of bed in the morning, she was
wearing it.  But no panties.  I was still clad in my pajama top when she
assisted me to the bathroom.  After I finished, she knelt in front of me
and helped me into my pajama bottoms before her mom showed up with
breakfast.

   It was a different Ronni this morning, a Ronni excited with her suddenly
released sexuality.  As she pulled up my pajamas, my dick was semi-hard. 
Her fingers got it to full hardness and as she was sliding my pants up my
good leg, she looked at me with laughing brown eyes.  Her hand gripped me,
the head of my dick extending past her fingers.  She giggled and her head
bobbed forward and she sucked the head into her mouth.  My knees almost
buckled.

   "You like that?" she asked.

   "Yes.  Gosh, yes, baby..." I answered.

   "I've heard about that for years.  I always wondered ...  I thought
about you..."

   "You're some kind of dream, Ron," I said.  She finished snapping me up
and stood, wrapping me in her arms, being careful for my healing ribs.

   "You're MY dream, Dave." She helped me to the chair in my living room. I
was definitely hobbling better, but it was still a wheelchair journey.  In
another week, though, I could begin putting some more weight on the bad
leg.

   I was sitting in my chair, Ronni washing my face with a cloth when Rena
knocked at the door with breakfast.  Entering the house, her nostrils
flared and she smiled.

   "Hi, Mom," Ronni chirped."

   "How was sleep?" Rena asked.

   "My best night yet," I answered.

   "He slept all night, Mom," Ronni added.

   She was right.  I could now roll over in both directions, although any
moves toward the left side with its healing ribs was a delicate operation.
That's the version of the story I related to Rena, anyway.  Ronni and I
devoured the breakfast Rena'd brought over, chatting with her as we ate,
then the chatting continued as we shared coffee together.

   From the conversation I gleaned that, first, Rena was still okay with
her daughter living with me, even though I was nowhere as helpless as I had
been at the beginning of this strange arrangement.  Second, Alex was due in
from his out of town work, arriving late in the day.

   "He says he's sorry he's been gone, Dave," Rena said.

   "You told me that before, Rena," I said.  "He's gotta do what he's gotta
do.  You know that."

   "Yeah, I know.  But still..." she said.

   Rena and I'd talked about this all before.  Alex had a choice: stay in
the local area as part of the herd, one among many, living paycheck to
paycheck, or spread out, using his talents to make better money.  He chose
the latter.  And Rena missed him when he was gone.

   "Look at it this way, Rena," I said, "you two'll have the house to
yourselves tonight.  Ronni will be over here taking care of me."

   Ronni giggled.

   "Whatever could you mean, Dave?" Rena smirked.

   Ronni laughed.  "Oh.  Mommmmm, you know.  I won't have to hear "hush!"
and "Stop that!" an' "You're makin' too much noise!" She giggled.

   Rena sighed.  "We try to keep quiet, young lady."

   "Yes, ma'am," Ronni smirked.  "You just aren't that good at it."

   Rena raised an eyebrow at her daughter.  "Ron," she said, "Hush!" She
looked at me.  "Dave, I'm sorry.  My daughter is being crude." She smiled,
standing.  "I need to go see about cooking something for when my husband
comes home.  He's gonna be hungry."

   Ronni giggled again.  "Uh-huh..."

   "Ron!" Rena said, feigning outrage.

   "Mom, I love you.  An' Dad!" Ronni smiled.  "Call me when he gets here."

   "Oh, he'll come over here.  I imagine he and Dave need to talk." Rena
said.

   This thought created a whole spectrum of possibilities in my head,
including Alex, one-time friend, beating the living crap out of the
crippled guy who was molesting his teen daughter.  But Rena had assured me.

   Post-breakfast, Ronni did me the service of changing the bedding on my
...  make that OUR bed.  Apparently she changed into her summertime uniform
of shorts and a blouse while I rested.

   I dozed lightly, waking when a pair of lips brushed mine lightly.

   I opened my eyes to hers only inches from my own.  "Hi, babe," she said.
"I couldn't resist.  You don't mind, do you?"

   "Only if you don't give me another." I realized how much I missed
kissing.  It might have been all new to Ronni, but to me it was an
awakening from a long slumber.  And honestly, the tender kiss that answered
my request made all the others I'd ever shared with other women recede into
oblivion.  "Mmmmmm," I moaned into her soft mouth.

   "Mmmmmm, yourself, babe!' she purred.  "Do you think we could do the
sofa?  I could get closer."

   "Let's try, babe." She helped me hobble from my recliner to the adjacent
sofa, then she joined me on it.  Happily I gave her as much attention as I
could with one good arm and leg.  We kissed hungrily.

   She touched her forehead to mine.  "Babe," she said, her fingers
trailing down the front of my pajama tops.

   "Yes, angel?"

   "Would it be okay..." her fingers brushed the lump in the front of my
pajamas.  "I mean, I'd like to ...  if it's okay."

   "You never have to ask, babe," I said.

   Her fingers closed over the lump.  I groaned in pleasure.

   "You like that, babe?"

   "You're magic, sweetness." I reached my hand to touch her breasts,
feeling that she had her bra on.  She took my hand and pushed it down the
front of her shorts, then unsnapped them to make more room.  Her lips
locked to mine as we mutually stimulated each other.

   She broke her lips from mine and buried her face against my neck.  She
whimpered as my fingers worked in her moist slit, bringing her to orgasm.
As she eased down from her heights, she whispered, "Mine never rocked me
like this, baby.  Gosh!"

   I was smiling when she kissed me.  And when she unsnapped my pajamas.  I
stroked and petted that brown hair as she tugged me to my own orgasm.

   She was giggling as she produced a hand towel.  "I was ready for you
this time, babe." She giggled as she sopped up my mess.  She found a stray
droplet and scooped it up with a fingertip.  Her eyes sparkled at me as she
brought that finger to her lips and sucked the droplet off.  An exaggerated
"Mmmmm" escaped.

   "I had to find out," she said.  "I know people do that.  I ...  do YOU
...  if I..."

   I was taken aback.  "You'd..."

   She grinned, her hair bouncing as she nodded.  "Put you in my mouth? 
Suck you?  Like this morning?  Uh-huh!  Want me to?"

   "I'd love that, babe, but you don't have to do anything you don't want
to do." I was astounded.

   She smiled lasciviously.  "My baby, you have NO idea what all I want to
do..." She slid off the sofa and knelt between my knees, her bright eyes
looking at me.  "Here goes," she said.  Her head bent forward, and I
entered another universe.  She enhanced the effect by "Mmmmmm", then let me
out of her mouth with an audible smack.

   "Well?" she looked at me.

   "Wonderful.  Delightful.  Words fail me." I was honest.  No, she wasn't
expert.  She didn't have to be.  It was her first try.  And she was bright
and enthusiastic and that was more than enough.  I told her how happy she
made me.  She reacted by snapping my pajamas up.

   "Decorum," she chuckled.  "We don't want your pants unsnapped when Mom
gets back here."

   "Uh, no, baby.  No sense in rubbing it in her face.  Although I'm sure
she's probably figuring that we just MIGHT be doin' things."

   "Yeah.  Let's let them ease into this, sweetie." That's what my mouth
said.  My mind was thinking how much I'd enjoy her sucking on me again.

   We lounged together, reading, listening to classical music.

   The phone rang.  Ronni caught it.  Her mom.  "I'm going to get us some
sandwiches, Dave," she said.  She took off and came back with a platter of
cold cuts.  "Mom says potroast for supper.  If I can cut it up for you."

   "I'll let you do that." I made a good potroast, result of growing up in
a Cajun kitchen.  Rena outcooked me.  The thought of that meal rested
comfortably on my belly.

   Ronni and I enjoyed our sandwiches.  Midafternoon the phone rang again.
Rena again.  "Dad's home," Ronni announced.  "I'll be back." Five minutes
later she was back.  "I had to go give Dad a hug.  I miss 'im!" she
announced.  "They'll be over in an hour or so." She grinned.  "I have NO
idea what they're doing..." she was saying that as she slid up my good leg
with her soft, supple, sexy body.

   Her lips met mine and locked in place, our tongues wrestling happily
together.  And a hand slid into the front of my PJ's, her fingers curling
under my balls.

   "Mmmmm," I purred.  She giggled.

   "I love my new toys, babe," she giggled, eyes twinkling.

   I laughed.  "I'm glad you do, sweetie!  I like mine too, you know." My
right hand cupped the cheek of her butt and squeezed.  That got me a giggle
and a kiss.  I slid my hand up under her blouse, caressing the skin of her
back, then back down, this time inside her waistband.  That was some
sweet-feeling skin there.

   "I love when you touch me, Dave," she said.  "Wait a sec!" She raised
herself off me and nimbly popped the snap and lowered the zipper on her
shorts.  "Put your hand in front.  I really like that."

   I complied happily.  My fingers pushed through a sparse patch of dark
hair on a plump, soft mons to a wet, happy slit.  She arched upward to give
me access.  My fingers explored her wetness.  I probed my index finger into
her opening, feeling it push into hot, wet tightness.  She purred into my
mouth as we kissed, her breathing rushed as my fingers pulled back and I
touched the stiffened head of her little clit.

   She mewed.  I didn't rush.  Her hand grasped my wrist, giving me little
shoves of encouragement.  "I ...  I'm ...  Nnnnnnghhh!  Doin' it!" Her body
went rigid as she came.

   I held her in my arms.  Well, arm and a half.  My left arm could do
little more than rest on her.

   "I love you, Dave," she said.  "I'll never have to do that to myself
again.  Yours are soooo much better."

   "I'm glad, baby," I said.  We breathed together for several minutes,
just enjoying the closeness.  She finally slid off me, her eyes twinkling.

   Her hand slid inside my pajamas, teasing my dick's hard length.  She
licked her lips, smiling.  "D'ya like me sucking it, babe?" she asked.

   "Yes, I do, sweetie," I answered.  'But you need to be careful right
now."

   "Why?" she questioned.  "Are you hurting too much?"

   "Nuh-uh," I said.  "If I was hurting, it wouldn't be hard like that. 
I'm too aroused.  Too close.  Remember last night when you played with it?"

   "Yeah," she grinned.  "You squirted all over.  You came."

   "What do you know about coming, little girl?" I questioned.

   "Mom an' Dad don't do a good job of keeping quiet sometimes.  I've heard
BOTH of 'em say it."

   "Ohhhh," I said.

   "So you're close to coming, right now?" she grinned.  And she started to
slide off the sofa.

   "Yeah, baby.  And if you start sucking on it..."

   "It'll squirt in my mouth." She finished my sentence for me.  "I tasted
it, Dave.  Let me try it, okay?" There were so many reasons I couldn't
refuse.  First, I was a red-blooded male.  Second, I loved her, and third,
those damned brown eyes...

   She unsnapped my pajamas and my dick sprang free, fully erect.  "I can't
get over how it works," she smiled.  Her brown eyes met mine as her head
started forward, lips parted, tongue between her teeth.  That tongue
touched me first and she giggled.  Her head moved forward more and the head
of my dick disappeared following her tongue back into her mouth.  She
sucked, then released me.

   "I have no idea how to do this, babe," she said.  "But I love how it
feels.  It's like, alive."

   It was.  "Use your hand like you did last night.  Just suck and lick and
nip..."

   Squeal!  "I can bite it?  I WANTED to..."

   "Just don't get carried away, sweetie..."

   And she went back to work on my dick, happily nibbling and sucking, her
hands fondling my sack and sliding up and down the shaft of my dick.  And I
was climbing towards the precipice.

   "Mmmmm" escaped from around my dick.  I felt as much as heard it.

   "God, baby, I'm close," I said.  I touched her hair with my good hand as
her head bobbed.

   She looked up at me, my dick still between her lips.  She grinned and
went back to sucking.  Her tongue curled underneath the head, hitting that
sensitive spot.

   "NNnnnnngahhhhh!" And I came.  The first squirt into her mouth got a
giggle.  And she kept sucking.  A second, a third, a fourth, and then a
stream of fire.  And she gamely sucked me, finally letting me fall from her
lips.

   Brightly she said, "Was that okay?"

   "Wait until I get back in this universe, and I'll answer," I said.  Post
orgasmic glow was coating my body.  I breathed deeply.  "How was it for
you?"

   "Oh, I LIKED it.  Didn't taste bad at all.  I've heard some of the girls
at school say they didn't like the taste, so I kinda worried.  But I liked
it.  And it's you..." She smiled.  "Now, do I have to brush my teeth an'
gargle before you'll kiss me?"

   "Not a chance.  Come kiss me."

   Giggle.  And Ronni in my arm and a half.  And a deep kiss.  And yes, I
think I detected a foreign taste as we traded tongues.  But it was MY
Ronni, and if she could swallow all that, I could kiss her afterwards.  And
several more.

   "We need to get you buttoned up and back in your chair, babe," she said.
"Dad's gonna come over when him an' Mom finish.  An' I don't think we
should be, you know..."

   "I know, sweetness." Together we maneuvered me back into my recliner. 
She went into the kitchen and fixed us each a soft drink over ice, and we
were sipping them when the knock came at the door.

   I watched her with adoring eyes as she bounced up, her hair flouncing
around her head, to answer the door.  "Hi, Daddy," she said.

   "Hi, Ron," Alex answered.  "Is Dave awake."

   "Hey, Alex," I called.  "I'm awake.  Come in, for pete's sake!"

   "Hey, Dave," he said as he entered the room.  "You look a damned sight
better than you did that last time I saw you."

   "When was that?" I asked.  I knew that Alex wasn't home when I got hit.

   "Your first two days in the hospital.  I went up there to bring Ronni,
and I came back the next day, before I left town.  You were out of it both
times.  And your head was funny colors."

   "Daadddddd!" Ronni said.  "He was..."

   "Run over by a truck." I finished.  "That's okay, Ron," I said.

   "Then I came home and built that ramp for you.  Figured you'd need it
for a while." He smiled.  "You oughtta get Ronni to roll you outside.  I'm
sure the neighbors will want to see you," he said.

   "That's a good idea, babe," Ronni chirped.

   I realized she'd called me "babe" in front of her dad.

   "Ron, why don't you go see about helping your mom out with dinner,
okay?"

   Ronni's eyes cut to me, and then back at her dad.  He was still smiling.
"Okay, Dad," she said.  "An' be nice.  I love you." And she disappeared out
the door.

   "Okay, Alex," I said, "I imagine I know one of the subjects."

   "If you're thinkin' about Ronni," he said.

   I interrupted.  I seriously didn't think he'd kick a cripple's ass. 
"It's difficult NOT to think about Ronni, Alex."

   "Dave," he said.  "You an' me's been friends for a long time.  This all
might be a surprise to you.  It's not ...  this is NOT much of a surprise
to me."

   That revelation WAS a surprise to ME.  I asked, "Huh?  How's that?"

   "Hang on!  Say, can you have a beer?  I need a beer.  Got some Shiner in
the fridge."

   "Why not?" I said.

   He flipped open his cellphone and punched a button.  "Hi, Ron," he said.
"Bring me an' Dave a couple of beers.  " Pause.  "Each." Pause.  "Yeah, he'
can HAVE them.  A couple won't hurt." Pause.  "See ya in a minute." And he
hung up.  He turned back to me.

   "I can't say I was too surprised." He sat back in the sofa, sighing. 
"Man, it's good to be back home..."

   "Dammit, Alex," I said.  "You can't start something and then change the
subject like that."

   He laughed.  "I was waiting for the beer." As he spoke, I heard
footsteps, and the door opened, Ronni with four bottles.  He eyed Ronni. 
"Open me an' Dave each one."

   Smiling, Ronni handed me a bottle, then her dad got one.

   "Now go home," he laughed.  "Me an' Dave are still talkin'."

   She took off as he tilted the bottle to his lips.  I did likewise,
savoring the taste.

   "Here's the deal, Dave," he said.  "It goes back to when Lisa left you.
You remember how messed up you were."

   I was.  Messed up.  Devastated.  Soundly and seriously screwed over. 
Torn up.  Alex and Rena were instrumental in dragging me out of the house
to restart life.  "Okay," I admitted.  "Yeah.  That's not a thing I'll
forget, Alex.  I still owe you and Rena."

   He smiled.  "You know how you were.  And you wanna know something? 
Ronni knew.  Didn't really understand all of it, but she told me she knew.
One night me an' Rena were talking about it.  We thought she was watching
TV.  Little darlin' was listening.  And she said, 'Mister Dave needs a
wife. I'd go be his wife, Dad'."

   "Really?" I said.  Ronni was ten or eleven when Lisa left me.  "That's
sweet, Alex."

   "Yeah, really, Dave.  An' Rena and I explained that you'd get over Lisa
and you'd decide if you wanted to date and get married again, and she
pouted.  I remember the whole thing.  She told us, 'He doesn't NEED to go
LOOK for a wife.  I'm right HERE!' And we thought it was just a kid thing.
I shoulda known.  Ronni's not your average kid.  Never has been."

   "I know, Alex.  But I never ever said anything, did anything.  All those
road trips to her games and all the coaching and stuff.  Alex, I was
completely proper."

   "Yeah," he said.  "Ya'll went to that volleyball tournament last year
when I went to Georgia.  I called and talked to her while ya'll were there.
But when I got back, she cornered me and told me that she just thought that
maybe she was too ugly or something, that you didn't treat her any
different than the other girls."

   "I can answer that in a bunch of ways, Alex.  First there WERE other
girls.  I was NEVER alone with Ronni.  And second, even if we had been
alone, I would not have tried anything.  But..."

   "But what," Alex asked.

   "But I had feelings for Ronni, bud.  You don't know how many times I
wished she were older.  Or I was younger.  She's different.  But I
never..."

   "I believe you, Dave," Alex said.  "But the day of the accident, she
spilled all that on Rena."

   "That's what Rena told me," I said.  "And she told me that it wasn't
just the day of the accident.  And then Ronni and I talked.  And my sister
noticed."

   "She's serious, Dave.  And she's my only kid.  I don't want her hurt."

   "I would never hurt her, Alex.  I don't want to sound like a perv, but I
love her."

   "I don't think you're a perv, man.  I figured that you'd go find you
some woman and that'd have hurt Ronni more than anything.  Or she'd get
sweet-talked by some kid at school and he'd break her heart or worse."

   "You weren't the only one," I said.  "I thought I'd missed out when that
kid came to collect her for the prom."

   Alex chuckled.  "Yeah, her little gay friend.  I asked, you know.  Dads
kinda want to know who's in their daughters' lives."

   "And here we are, buddy.  I want to marry your daughter."

   "Don't ask me now, Dave.  Ask me when Rena an' her bring supper over. 
So they get to hear, too."

   "Okay, buddy," I said.

   "You know, Dave, for ten years Ronni's been making little comments about
you.  And you've been oblivious because she didn't want to scare you by
saying anything to you."

   "I guess," I sighed.  "Strange ol' world, Alex."

   "You got that right, buddy," he said, swallowing a mouthful of beer. 
"But I told Rena that I was a whole lot happier that it turned out to be
you than some stupid punk with his brains in his dick and the IQ of a sack
of hammers."

   I laughed.  "Yeah.  And you know, running her an' that volleyball team
made me see how different your daughter is.  It's night and day, you know."

   "I know.  I got a hatful of the "she goes, and I'm like, an' she's like"
crap on those trips, too."

   We heard footsteps, then the door opened and Rena and Ronni walked in,
Ronni carrying a tray with a couple of covered plates.

   "I loaded you up, Dave," Rena said.

   Ronni was smiling.  "Look, Mom!  Dad didn't beat the crap out of 'im."

   Alex and I laughed.  "We had a good talk, that's all," he said.  He
turned to me.  "Okay, Dave, your turn.  Ronni, set that tray down."

   Ronni put the tray on the dining room table and then came to my side. 
She put her hand lightly on my shoulder.

   "Alex.  Rena.  I want to ask you for permission to marry Ronni.  She is
the love of my life."

   Ronni knelt beside my chair and put her head on my shoulder.  Rena
looked at Alex.

   "Your move, hon," Rena said.

   Alex shook his head.  "Ronni is my pride and joy.  And Dave, you're
gonna make a fine son-in-law.  I can borrow YOUR tools..." he laughed.  "So
when's all this gonna take place?"

   Ronni's turn.  "We need to talk about a date." She looked at me.  "Soon,
though.  Maybe when he can actually walk.  Right now I need to feed 'im."

   "Dave, welcome to the family," Alex said.  Rena stood by his side.  He
added, "Like you haven't been for ten years already..."

   Ronni moved over and wrapped her arms around me, delivering a kiss.  I
wrapped my right arm around her.  "See, mom?" she said.  "This is the way
it's supposed to be." She giggled.  "Except for the cast and the bandaged
ribs and the missing hair and all that."

   "There's probably some safety in that, huh, babe," Rena laughed,
elbowing Alex.

   "Whatever do you mean, my love?" he chuckled.

   "How long it took US before we were climbin' all over each other." She
smirked.

   "Mommmmm!" squealed Ronni.

   "Hush, child," she said.  "People love each other, that's part..."

   "Hon, don't be baring all our secrets now..."

   "Oh, I don't know, babe," she told him.  "I thought we were normal."

   "A bit unrestrained, maybe," he said.

   "Yeah, you're thinking about being unrestrained now," she said.  "That's
because you're a dad now, looking at your teenaged daughter.  Back then I
was a seventeen year old girl and you were twenty-seven and I couldn't
resist your charms ...  So you think that things have changed?  That whole
"Tab A  -" Slot B, I love you" thing?"

   He sighed.  "No, I suppose not."

   "Guys, ' I said, "you did good raising Ronni.  I mean, she's seventeen,
smart, and decent.  Go to the mall this Sunday afternoon and look at what
you see there.  You need some perspective."

   "Oh, we know," Rena said.  "we're really happy.  Alex, hush and drink
your beer."

   "Yes, dear," Alex said, feigning submission.

   All this was going on as Ronni was forking food into my mouth.  She was
giggling.  I wasn't giggling.  I was savoring her mom's potroast.  Their
conversation was the standard repartee I'd often heard from them.  I'd
never heard them exchange a cross word between themselves.  I'm sure it
happened.  Nobody's perfect, but eighteen years and they sure seemed still
waaaay into each other.

   That was Ronni's idea of how a marriage was supposed to be.  And after
my own failed attempt, I was at times both amazed and jealous that Alex and
Rena's union was so apparently joyful.  And the product was Ronni, who
despite being an only child, was balanced and mature in so many ways.



   ------

   Chapter 6

   After dinner, Ronni did indeed roll me out into the evening air as the
temperature cooled and the shadows lengthened.  A trip up the sidewalk got
me several conversations with the neighbors.  My accident was the biggest
event the block had seen in years.  As far as anyone knew, I was messed up
worse than I really was, and I guess that Ronni and Rena had been remiss in
publicizing my actual (in my mind) rapid recovery.

   This made for happy conversations with the neighbors, a couple of whom
had heard rumors that I was either paralyzed or lost a leg.  Finding me
being pushed up the sidewalk by Ronni, wiggling my toes in the sunshine
dispelled the rumors.  She rolled me back on my front porch and together we
held audience for a while before it was time for us to go back inside.

   That was dusk.  Once inside, she gave me kisses.

   "Just makin' up for not being able to kiss you out in public ...  yet!"
she smiled.  "so what'd you think about our talk with Mom and Dad?"

   "I think that deep down inside, your Dad wishes you were older or maybe
I was younger, but I think he's okay with it.  You mom seems a hundred
percent on our side, though."

   "Kinda what I thought, too," she said.  "I need to go talk to him for a
while, that's all.  Your sister is coming over this evening to visit you
anyway, so that'll give me time."

   "I'm not totally helpless, baby," I said.  "You can leave me for a
little while.  My only problem is getting to the bathroom."

   "I know, babe," she said.  "But I'm not leaving you alone if I don't
need to, so when she gets here, I'll go for a while.  You might want to
talk to her about us anyway."

   "You're right.  I need to break the news.  But I'd rather do that when
you're here."

   "And don't let her bathe you.  I get to do that, okay?"

   "Okay, sweetie.  I definitely need a bath.  And a shave."

   She grinned.  "Yeah.  A shave.  BOTH ends."

   "Uh..." I was thinking of how delicately I performed the shaving of my
pubic regions.  I wasn't sure that I was ready to give that operation over
to somebody else, no matter how much they loved me.

   "Uh, nothing!  I will be VERY careful.  You're getting hairy.  And I got
used to it being shaved."

   "Okay ...  I guess you're my future wife.  I need to trust you."

   "Yes you do, love," she affirmed.  "I'll be VERY careful.  It's MY toy,
too, you know."

   We were both laughing at that idea, our foreheads touching, when we
heard a car door slam in the driveway, then two voices.  That would be Deb
and her husband Terry.  Ronni was opening the front door when they stepped
onto the porch.

   "Hi, Mizz Deb.  Mister Terry!  Come in!" she chirped.

   The two of them came and greeted me and then Terry announced that he had
to go to the store, so he was leaving Deb for a while.

   "Well, thanks for dropping her off, bud," I said.

   "I hate to run," Terry said, "but we got a toilet that's runnin' and
guess who gets to fix it?"

   "I know what you mean.  Do what you gotta do.  You can buy me off with
some of your barbecued ribs later."

   He grinned.  "Yeah, we can do that.  See ya!" The door closed.

   Deb's turn.  "She looks happy.  You look happy.  What's up?"

   Ronni knelt at the arm of the recliner and wrapped her hands around the
bicep of my right arm, leaning her head on my shoulder.

   Deb's eyebrow raised.  This was an obvious display on Ronni's part and
Deb picked up on it.  "You two..."

   Ronni smiled.

   "Deb," I said, "remember when we were in the hospital and you thought
that you could see something about how Ronni felt about me?"

   Her eyes shifted back and forth between me and Ronni.  "Yeah, I
remember..." she said warily.

   "Well," I said.  "It's true.  Ronni does love me.  And better yet, I
love her.  I have for years.  And best of all, we've decided to get
married."

   "No shit!" Deb blurted.  "But you're almost forty.  And Ronni..."

   "I'm seventeen.  I'll be eighteen in a month."

   "That's..."

   Ronni stepped in.  "Mizz Deb, I've loved your brother for years.  It
might've been a silly little girl thing when it started, but it hasn't been
for a long time."

   "I can accept that, sweetie," Deb answered.  "But Dave's got two nieces
your age.  You know 'em.  Ya'll go to school together."

   "Yes ma'am," Ronni stated.  "And they're good kids.  And so am I.  I
don't party.  I don't run the roads.  I am doing great in school.  And I
know what a good marriage looks like.  Mom and Dad have one." She paused.
"I watched."

   Deb drilled onward.  "That's good, baby.  But when you graduate from
high school, he's gonna be forty.  Do you want a forty year old husband
when you're eighteen?"

   "Mizz Deb," Ronni countered, "Other than the occasional run-in with a
pickup truck, he's healthy.  I figure he's gonna make eighty, easy.  That's
gonna give me forty good years with 'im.  You an' I both know marriages
that didn't make a tenth that."

   "That's the point, Ronni," Deb said.  "I was here when that happened. 
He went to pieces.  I don't want that to happen to 'im again."

   I started to say something but Ronni's fingers gripped my arm.

   "Mizz Deb, I was here too.  I was ten.  And I remember.  He was the nice
guy next door who set up a kiddie pool for his little girl an' let me play
in it, and he came to my birthday party and did rope tricks, and he was the
best adult I knew besides Mom and Dad an' when he was messed up when Lisa
left, I told Mom and Dad that I'd go be his wife so he wouldn't be so sad."

   Deb sucked in a sharp breath upon hearing that confession.

   "Mom explained to me why that wouldn't work because there were things I
didn't understand when I was ten, but I tried to be his friend anyway.  And
he's been there when Dad was out of town, and he's been MY friend, too, and
he's been my tutor and that's why I do so well in school." She paused,
staring at Deb.  "So is it okay if I love him?  For real?"

   "Deb?" I questioned.  Deb's face was priceless.

   "Ronni, if you want him, and he wants you, I think it's a good thing,
then.  Have you told your mom and dad?"

   "We had the discussion earlier today, Deb," I said.

   "Must've not been as bad as I would've imagined.  You're still in one
piece." Deb said.

   "Mom and Dad are good with it, Mizz Deb," Ronni added.

   "Well, Ronni, you can drop the "Mizz Deb" thing.  You're gonna be my
sister-in-law..." She sighed.  "So!  When?"

   I looked at Ronni.  "Soon.  When I can stand up."

   Deb's eyebrow raised.  "Wedding?  The whole "princess for a day" thing?"

   Ronni fielded that one.  "No way.  Friends.  Family.  Me.  Dave.  He can
wear his good suit.  I'll wear a dress.  It might be white, but I'll buy it
off the rack at Penney's or something.  And it might all take place in our
back yard."

   "She's practical, Dave.  But then I already saw some of that."

   "Yeah," I said.  "She's a keeper." I got a little kiss for that comment.

   "I need to go to the house for a while, baby," Ronni said, standing. 
"Mizz ...  uh ...  sorry.  Deb's here for a while.  You'll be okay."

   Deb caught her for a hug before she got out the door.  The door closed.

   Deb hit first.  "Dave, are you SURE?  She's such a sweet kid ...  but
SEVENTEEN?!?!?"

   "Deb, I am sure.  I watched her grow.  The last couple of years, as she
matured into a young lady, I prayed that time would warp and I could go
back and find her.  I never came on to her the whole time I chauffeured and
chaperoned and coached.  I just watched, and shared and helped.  And
wished."

   "And the whole time, she was doin' the same thing, in the opposite
direction.  That's something!"

   Deb smiled.  "Maybe you ARE doing something right."

   "I think so," I said.  "My heart says so."

   "No kids, Dave.  Remember?" Deb knew about my vasectomy.  "How's that
gonna work?"

   "We talked.  She says we can borrow kids anywhere.  Or adopt.  Deb, the
girl wants ME.  It feels good."

   Car lights flashing in the window told us that Terry was back.  He came
in the front door.

   "Babe," Deb said, "You ain't gonna believe this news..." And she told
him.

   Terry shook his head.  "I've seen stranger shit than that, Dave.  Deb
says that girl's been by your side every day since the accident.  That says
something to me.  Either you pay well, or she's crazy.  And love counts as
crazy, right babe?" And he gave Deb a peck on the cheek.  "When's the
wedding?"

   "The future Mrs.  Johnson says as soon as I can walk."

   "You're not doing that big wedding thing, are you?" I knew that Terry
was thinking of his own two daughters when he asked that question.

   "Nope.  She says friends and family and a back yard."

   "Good," he said.  "Maybe my girls will get a clue."

   "One can only hope," I said.

   "Yeah," Deb chimed in.  "You oughtta be happy they wanna get married at
all."

   "That's not what I meant," I laughed, "but it's a good thought."

   We continued talking and laughing for another half-hour before the
footsteps at the door announced my Ronni's return.  She walked right in.

   "Oh, hi, Mister Terry," she chirped.

   "Babe," Deb said, "You just as well call him just Terry, too, since he's
gonna be your brother in law."

   "Oh, so he knows too, now?" She smiled and came to my side, sitting on
the arm of my chair.  I slid my arm behind her, around her waist.  She
clasped my hand in hers, entwining our fingers together.  She sighed. 
"Well, good!  " She paused.  "I guess.  You're not mad are you, uh, Terry?"

   "Nope.  I wonder, though, Ronni.  How would you tell our daughters?  I
mean, they're YOUR age."

   Ronni was looking thoughtful when I turned to her.  "I think," she said,
"that I'd tell them that love comes in many forms and that what's right for
one couple may not be right for another.  And don't rush."

   Terry looked at her.  "And you're not rushing?"

   "Oh, no sir.  I've been planning this for seven years.  Dave didn't know
it.  Now he does." Her smile was sublime.

   "You planned this for seven years?  How?" Terry was getting ready to get
the story.

   "When Mizz Lisa left Dave and he was all messed up, I told Mom and Dad
that he was my friend and I could be his wife so he wouldn't be sad.  And
now I'm gonna be." She grinned.

   "And we'll be there clapping" Terry said.  "And the girls.  Right,
babe?" he turned to Deb.

   "Yep.  That's my brother.  And my new sister.  You ready to go?"

   "Yeah, I guess," Terry said, standing.  "I have a broken toilet waiting
on me."

   Terry shook my hand and Deb gave me a careful hug, then Ronni escorted
them to the door, hugging both of them as they departed.  When they left,
she closed and locked the door behind her.

   "Well, news is out, Mister David Johnson.  You're gonna have a wife."

   "A bright, cute one, at that," I said.

   "I'm glad you think so, baby," she said.  "nobody's ever told me I'm
cute besides you and Mom and Dad."

   "Come here, Ron," I said.  I motioned for her to sit in my lap.

   "Can I do that without hurting you?" she questioned.

   "I think so, baby.  I need you close to me."

   She figured out a way to ease into my lap without bumping my bad leg,
and curled up against my chest.  She was tall, not lanky, but long-legged
and she felt good in my arms.  Yes, arms.  I rested my left arm on her so
the fingers of that hand could touch her as my right arm moved over her,
touching, caressing.

   "I know I'm not cute, Dave," she said.

   "Ronni, my sweetness, did I not say that I love you?"

   "Yeah, but..."

   "But what?  What's not cute?"

   "Brown hair.  Brown eyes."

   "The girl I love has hair that is alive and shiny and is a kaleidoscope
of browns and coppers and bronzes, and her eyes sparkle with laughter and
humor and intelligence."

   "My nose."

   "Is purely Ronni.  Not a carbon copy of everybody else's nose.  And it
crinkles when you grin.  And it made me smile the first time I saw your
face when you were seven."

   "My titties aren't big."

   "Ron, little one, your titties are perfect.  Look at your mom.  She
isn't big there either.  That's just a genetic fact, babe.  And your future
husband thinks YOURS are absolutely perfect.  Everything about you ... 
perfect.  For me." I kissed her on top of her head.  "Because I love you."

   She twisted up to land her lips against mine.  "I want you to be happy,
baby.  You've been with other women."

   "And that's all the more reason to appreciate my Ronni.  You're not
other women.  You're you.  You've been my friend for years, and if I didn't
think you would be my everything, I wouldn't have allowed this to happen,
babe.  I'm not in this to get in a seventeen year old's panties.  This is
forever stuff for me."

   She raised her face away from mine and a soft smile spread across her
face.  "Me too, Dave.  Forever." Her lips met mine for a long kiss.  It
ended with a giggle.  "I can feel that, Dave," she tittered.

   "I can't help that, babe.  It knows about you now."

   She wiggled her hip against it.  "You know, I need to bathe you tonight.
And some other things."

   "Okay.  I guess it's time, then." I recalled her promise to shave my
genital area.

   She carefully climbed off me and then pushed my wheelchair up, helping
me into it.  I sat in it next to the bed as she laid down a layer of towels
for my coming sponge bath.

   The next step was a change from the original routine, because she
stripped me completely naked now except for the cast and a bandaged set of
ribs.  She helped me into the bed and then proceeded to sponge bathe me,
rolling me onto my back, then onto my front, changing the water three
times. Finally she came back with a fresh basin of hot water, a razor, and
shaving cream.  My face was shaved quickly.  She was comfortable with it
now, and I didn't even flinch.

   She got up and changed the water and returned.  "Okay, now, just relax.
I don't hurt your face any more, do I?"

   "No, you don't, babe.  But there's more corners and protrusions.  And my
sack, you need to stretch it a little..."

   She smiled.  "We'll figure it out." And she did.  Ol' Dickey alternated
between happy hardness and frightened flaccidity.  She carefully shaved my
sack, and my pubic area, then wiped away the shaving gel and rinsed me. 
"There!" she said brightly.  "We did it.  And you're not bleeding at all.
Now was that bad?"

   "No.  And that's the first time I didn't do it myself." I laughed.  "I
must really trust you."

   She kissed me, her hand and fingers examining her handiwork.  "I'm going
to go take a shower, babe.  Let me get these towels now." She rolled me off
the towels and gathered them up, then left me lying in the bed, still
completely nude.

   I relaxed, feeling the cool air over my bare skin, listening to the
sounds of the shower, then the hair dryer, then an odd amount of water
running and other unfamiliar sounds.  And she showed back up, completely
nude herself.

   "What do you think, babe?" she giggled.

   I surveyed my little doll from the top of her head, downward.  And came
to her pubic mound.  Make that her HAIRLESS pubic mound.

   "You shaved it," I said.

   "Uh-huh.  You shave yours.  I thought I'd try it."

   "Come closer." I reached my right hand toward her.

   She pushed it against my hand.  I reveled in the soft smooth thing that
filled my palm.  "Feels sweet, baby," I said.  I tried scooting on my right
side to the edge of the bed.

   "What are you trying to do, babe?" she asked.

   "I'm trying to rub my cheek against it, sweetie," I said.  "I wanna feel
it against my face."

   "You ...  you've never..." she stammered.

   "Never what?" I asked.

   "You never acted like you wanted your face down there.  I mean, I do
things to YOU with my mouth, but..."

   "Okay, I have been wanting to, but I didn't want to scare you off, you
know, doing too much too soon.  Me ...  my mouth ...  there?  That's okay?"

   Her eyes twinkled.  "I wanted you to ...  but I heard that some guys
don't like that."

   "You get to ask, babe.  And you get to say 'no', too.  You could've told
me."

   "I was going to," she admitted, "but this whole boyfriend, then
fiancĂ(C)e, then sex thing, I'm still nervous."

   "It's US, baby.  We talk.  Now, can I?"

   Squeal.  And she had her mons pressed against my cheek.  I turned my
head and kissed its soft plumpness.  "Mmmmmm," I said.

   "Oh, Dave, I feel that sound all through me," she said.  Her movements
made it seem almost like I was being encouraged for something else.  My
tongue licked towards the beginning of her slit.  She sucked in a sharp
breath.  "Dave, do you WANT to do that?"

   "Oh, yes, lover.  More than anything, right now."

   "Let me see how we can do this," she giggled excitedly.

   "Straddle my chest, sweetie.  Just be careful of my ribs and my arm."

   Her careful movements were torture, not because of any pain she caused
me.  No, it was torture seeing that sweet, virginal pussy inches from my
face, but out of reach.  Her excitement was obvious as pearls of moisture
glistened between pink, puffy lips.  Finally she got close enough to reach
with my tongue and lips.  I planted a kiss.

   "Mmmmm," she purred.  "Yesssss."

   I kissed again, this time pushing the tip of my tongue just between her
lips, then tracing them from back to front.  She quivered.  Her hands
touched my head.

   "Oh, that's gooooood, baby!"

   I worked from between her lips into my mouth, savoring the musky juices
from her, then licked deeper, knowing that I was soon going to find out
what she wanted done to her clit.  I'd done her with fingertips.  I wanted
to see how she liked my tongue.  I followed her lead, letting her push her
pussy against my tongue, letting HER decide what she wanted licked.  And
she pushed her butt forward, putting my tongue solidly against a sweet
little pea, the head of her clit.

   "There!" she announced breathlessly.  "Do me THERE!" And I did.  And she
came.  Hard.  Shuddering.  Whimpering, mewing sounds.  Shaking.  I stopped,
kissing gently as she came down.

   "Are you okay, little one?" I asked.

   "No wonder Mom makes noises, baby," she sighed.  Carefully she climbed
off me and slid beside me.  My face was smeared with her love juices as she
kissed me.

   "I made you all messy, baby." She kissed me in spite of the juices. 
"It's a good thing I taste good, huh?"

   "Yes, doll.  You're delicious."

   I looked.  She had a tear sliding down her cheek.

   "Are you okay, sweetie?  You're crying."

   "Dave, I love you so much!  You bring me alive.  I always imagined ...
you know, while I did things ...  and I was so far off of what you just did
to me..."

   I kissed her teary cheek, then her lips.  "You're that to me, too,
Ronni. You show me that my imagination failed.  You're better than that."

   She pulled the covers up and we went to sleep together, naked.

   I awoke to the delight of soft fingers exploring my dick and balls. 
"G'mornin', sweetness," I said.

   "G'mornin, babe," she purred.  "I never slept like that before."

   "Naked?" I asked.

   "That too," she giggled.  "No, you made me come my brains out.  I think
all my nerves died." Another giggle.  "We need to get you to the bathroom
and then dressed."

   She rolled out of bed, then uncovered me.  I was erect and exposed and
apparently that's a sign to Ronni that something needed sucking.  "Want me
to ...  you know ...  finish?"

   Like I was going to refuse that.  Ronni sucked me to orgasm, helped
along by morning wood.  When I'd dribbled the last of my load, she smiled
at me and kissed me.

   "Come on!  Mom's gonna be here and we're both naked."

   She helped me into my pajamas and then dressed herself in shorts and a
t-shirt.  Finally I got to the bathroom, ready to split.  She commented on
the volume.  "Sorry, babe.  I didn't mean to make you wait this long."

   She was wheeling me into the living room when Rena knocked on the door.
Ronni unlocked it to let her mom in.  "We slept late," Ronni said. 
"Yesterday was a big day, with everybody ...  you know."

   Rena smiled.  "So Dave, how'd your sister take the news?"

   "Surprisingly good," I said.  "She questioned our sanity, my motives,
Ronni's maturity and clarity of thought, and at the end of the
conversation, she accepted me and my bride to be."

   "Well, good!" Rena said.  "Ronni, feed your man pancakes!" she said as
she placed a plate of hotcakes on the TV tray.

   "Mommm, I could've made him pancakes." Ronni said.  "You taught me how
to cook."

   "I know, babe," Rena said.  "But you have enough to do taking care of
our favorite cripple." She giggled.

   "Well, tomorrow I'm fixing us breakfast.  I need to practice."

   "Practice what, babe?" I questioned.

   "Bein' a wife.  You know."

   "Uh-huh.  The first year you'll live on Cheerios so you can stay in bed
late, kiddo," Rena tittered.

   "Mommmmm!" Ronni feigned outrage.  I just smiled.  "Defend me, Dave!"

   "Defend you?  You get outstanding advice from your mom.  And you've
NEVER needed defending." I smiled.  "But I AM marrying you for your mind,
you know..."

   She smiled sweetly.  "I may just have other charms, baby," she said. 
"Besides my tastes in music and my excellent conversational abilities."

   "Uh-huh," Rena chuckled.  "Feed your man.  I gotta go start cooking for
your dad."

   "Okay, Mom.  But tomorrow..." Ronni said.

   "Make sure you have Cheerios, baby" Rena said, laughing as she opened
the door to leave.

   "Mommmm!" Ronni whined.

   The door closed.  "Babe," I said, "I think your mom suspects we're
having sex." I grinned.

   "You think?" she giggled.  "Doesn't count.  I'm still a virgin, you
know."

   "Yes, as a matter of fact I do know." My fingers had been there. 
Cherry. Not much of one.  But there.

   "The only thing that's been there is your fingers.  And tongue ... 
gahhhhh!  Your tongue!  Last night!"

   "You liked that?"

   She stepped past the TV tray and kissed me.  "The question is, did YOU
like it?"

   "I loved it.  I wanna do it again.  Does that tell you..."

   She smiled, her face close to mine.  "I think we can risk one more.  But
I'm getting close to my period, and I don't think we want to mess with
that."

   "You're sure about the period?" I asked.

   "I took my last pill this morning.  That means tomorrow..."

   "Pill?"

   "Yeah," she said.  "For my periods.  I wasn't worried about getting
pregnant, silly.  Unless it was YOU."

   "But I can't..."

   "And I really don't care, Dave.  I love YOU, not your ability to
reproduce." And she kissed me.  "So sometime today, can we..."

   "You already did me today, princess.  I owe you." I smiled and received
another kiss.

   "We're not keepin' score.  We're making each other happy THAT way!"

   "Then help me back to bed, sweetie.  I want us some time together."

   In a minute and a half I was sliding backward onto the bed.

   "Was how we did it last night okay?" she asked.

   "Yes it was, if that works for you, baby."

   "Did it EVER!" she giggled, stripping off her shorts and panties.  She
kissed me passionately, excitedly.

   "Mmmmm, babe, I love the way you kiss." My free hand ran up the inside
of her thigh and cupped her pussy.  I could feel the heat and moisture. 
"Get up here and let me taste you..."

   Squeal!  And she carefully climbed up onto my chest, positioning her
pussy inches in front of me.

   I couldn't wait.  I bent my head forward to kiss her moist labia.  I
felt her quiver, then settle herself against me.  I licked delicious
juices, delighting in the taste and smell of her excitement.  She pressed
her pussy onto my face.  My tongue penetrated and explored her hole, then
the length of her slit, reaching for her clit.  She moved it to my tongue
and hissed, "There!"

   I licked, reveling in her excitement, little quivering thrusts of her
hips as she availed herself of my tongue.

   "Nnnnngghhhh, ohhhh, babyyyyy!" One of her hands was holding onto the
headboard, the other holding my head against her as she came.  She moved
her clit out of my tongue's range and I literally drank her juices as she
enjoyed her orgasm.

   Babe, are you okay?" she asked.

   "I'm wonderful, sweetie.  Do you want to stop, or can I have some more?"

   I heard a sexy, soft giggle and she moved herself so my tongue could
find a rigid little pink pea, and I licked again.  This time her hips were
even MORE insistent and demanding.  My good arm pulled on her thigh,
drawing her to me, encouraging her that I wanted more of her.  She gave
herself to my hungry mouth, receiving pleasure in return.  With soft,
whimpering moans she crossed the line to her second orgasm, letting me lap
another round of juices as she rode the feelings, then she gingerly slid
off me.

   She showered my juice-smeared face with kisses.  "Dave, my love," she
whispered.  "You ...  you don't KNOW what you do to me."

   "I know that I enjoy you, little one," I answered between kisses.

   She went to the bathroom.  I heard water running, then she returned with
a face cloth and washed my face.  "I made a bigger mess this time," she
giggled.  "I sort of let myself go with it..."

   "You're supposed to, babe," I smiled.

   "Yeah, but..." she took a deep breath, "I lose consciousness.  It's too
good."

   "I'm glad you like it, baby doll.  You're delicious.  And fun!"

   She was pulling her clothes back on.  Once she was dressed, she eased me
over in the bed so there was room for her to stretch beside me, and she
joined me.  "I can't imagine EVER feeling this good, babe," she said softly
as she lay her head on my shoulder.

   "Me neither, little love," I said, kissing that sleek brown hair.  We
dozed.

   Two days after I was back at the doctor's office.  The tape on my ribs
came off, revealing irritated skin underneath.  The cast was removed and
replaced with lightweight fiberglass.  I was cautioned about putting weight
on the leg.  "Not too often, but you can start using it to get around short
distances.  And don't forget that you're still crippled." And they showed
me how to use crutches to give me a little freedom.

   Like I wanted freedom.  What I wanted was my Ronni by my side.  Deb and
Ronni both were at the doctor with me, so they got a verbatim version of my
new do's and don'ts, and and then wheelchaired me back to the car.  And we
were home.

   Deb treated Ronni a little differently today.  Acted like Ronni was more
than a helpful teen.  When we got back to the house, I got on the sofa and
Ronni snuggled in beside me.  The three of us talked for a while, and then
Deb left.

   I tapped the new cast.  "What are you gonna do when they take this thing
off babe, and I don't need Ronni to help me get around?" I asked.

   She looked at me.  "I'm gonna marry you."

   "I was hoping you'd say that," I said.  "I was worried you changed your
mind."

   "Nope.  Never.  I plan on being YOUR wife forever." Her brown eyes gazed
into mine.  "So get used to it."

   "I'll never get used to it.  Every day that I wake up and you love me, I
think I've gotten a wonderful gift."



   ------

   Chapter 7

   The outings into the evening air became a daily event.  Ronni rolled me
out into the shade of the big tree in my front yard and left me there
talking with my old next door neighbor.  Yeah, the one that asked "Are you
one a'those GAY people?"

   My broken leg gave him avenue to recount his trials with a hip and knee
replacement, a story familiar to me, told to me previously in bits and
pieces, but he was a nice old guy and his wife was also a nice person, so I
listened patiently.  His missus came out to visit us under the shade,
bringing two glasses of the kind of home-made lemonade that evoked the
happy memories of the kind of summers that my dad and grand-dad dreamed of.

   Mister Bailey and I sat in the shade, chatting, enjoying the sounds of a
couple of off-cycle cicadas buzzing, not doubt wondering where their crowd
was.  He spotted Ronni going to her mom's car to retrieve something.

   "Little Roni sure has grown up, ain't she?" he said.

   "Yes, she has, Mister Bailey.  Trophy-grade kid, there."

   "Mmm-huh," he mused.  "Not like that young turd that liked to a'killed
you.  I see her at your house all the time since you got hurt."

   "Uh-huh.  She's helping me out.  I can't do a damned thing by myself. 
Nurse comes in every day and changes bandages and checks on me.  Roni takes
care of feeding me and everything else."

   "She don't act like one a'them kids that wants to dress up like, you
know, all flashy like they do.  Pretty level-headed.  Man's gonna get a
good one with her."

   Ronni walked up.  "Hi, Mister Bailey!  Hi, Dave."

   Mister Bailey might be old, but he wasn't slow.  His eyes widened just
about the time Ronni's hand touched my shoulder.

   "He's not 'Mister Dave' any more, Miss Ronni?"

   Ronni smiled, opened the bag, and dragged the squalling cat out.  "No
sir.  Not since we decided to get married."

   "No joke?" he said.  A smile started its way across his wrinkled face.
"Martha!" he shouted.  "Come here, will ya?"

   Martha was tending flowers in their front yard.  She came over. 
"Whatever are you shouting about, dear?"

   "Mister Dave an' Mizz Ronni are getting married.  What'd'ya think about
that?" He was smiling now.

   She mirrored her husband's smile.  "What would you expect me to think
about two good people deciding to get married, George?" She took Ronni's
hand.  "Baby, Mister Dave's been a very good neighbor for ten years, and
we've know you since you were two.  We're very happy for you."

   Ronni smiled.  The Baileys were the first people outside our families to
hear our news.

   "Come with me, Miss Ronni," Martha said.  "Let's get our men some more
lemonade.  And I think I have, no, cookies don't go with lemonade.  Let's
see what we have for our own little celebration."

   The two departed.  Mister Bailey looked at me.  "Dave, you're my son's
age.  What?  Forty, maybe?"

   "Yessir," I said.

   "Miss Ronni's graduating next year, so she's..."

   "Seventeen," I answered.

   "Bit of difference, ain't it?" he mused.

   "I know," I said.  "We talked about it.  She's, like you said,
level-headed.  Not no little ball of fluff airhead."

   "Yeah, she ain't had that stream of young guys runnin' up her driveway.
Seems like a decent young lady."

   "Mister George, exactly what business would I have with an indecent
young lady?" I tried to defuse what I saw as a possibly bad situation.

   "Yeah, son, I notice that YOU don't have a bunch of women running in an'
out of YOUR house, either.  You're home most weekends.  You're not out
chasin' skirts." He laughed, "Or whatever's in 'em."

   "I'm old-fashioned about that stuff, Mister George," I said.

   "And she's a genuinely sweet girl, Dave.  Not exactly the kind of arm
candy, is that what they call it?"

   "No, not arm candy, Mister George.  She does my head and my heart good,
and you know what, if those things are right, the eye sees..." I saw Mizz
Martha approaching with a tray.  "That!" And plain Ronni?  She looked
beautiful.  Carrying two more chairs.

   The four of us sat there in the early evening stillness, sipping
lemonade and eating cheese and crackers.

   Mizz Martha asked, "So when are you getting married?"

   Ronni smiled demurely.  "As soon as Dave can walk.  Doctor says four
weeks."

   Mister George picked up the interrogation.  "One a'them big church
weddings?"

   "Oh, heavens, no!" Ronni said.  "I wouldn't do that to Mom and Dad. 
Makes no sense.  And Dave could afford it, but why?" She smiled.  "We're
going to get our preacher to do the vows with us in our back yard with our
families and friends.  You know ya'll are invited."

   Mizz Martha smiled too.  "Me an' George got married in an army chapel in
Georgia.  Mom and Dad and my sister and a bunch of guys from his unit.  I
guess it stuck." She touched George's shoulder.  "What's the last one? 
Forty-two years?"

   "Yes it has.  Hadn't always been roses, but life ain't like that
anyways. But two people together, they can put up with a lot of life." He
patted Ronni.  "Miss Ronni, I watched you learnin' to ride a bike.  Your
momma an' daddy are good people.  What do they say about this?  You've told
them, I guess, if you're planning on getting married at home."

   Ronni smiled.  "Dave asked Dad and Mom.  They're okay with it.  Well,
Mom's ...  they're BOTH happy." She looked at Mister George.  "I know what
some folks'll say, but we don't have to get married, you know, like in
'Momma, I'm pregnant.' It's not like that at all."

   "That's good to know, baby, but it's not anybody's business," Martha
said.  "Besides, people don't get married for that much, any more.  Not
according to what I see in the papers."

   "No," I said, "but when some people see me with Little Miss Ronni,
that's what they'll figure anyway."

   "Awwww, let'em talk, son," Mister George said.  "They gonna do that
anyways.  Me an' my sweetie, we're glad for ya."

   "Thank you both.  Makes me feel like my own Mom and Dad were here to
enjoy the news." It was.  Mom was ten years gone, Dad seven, and I missed
them both.  George and Martha were like a second set of adopted parents.

   He smiled.  "An' at least you're Dave an' Ronni.  Won't catch any crap
because you're 'George and Martha', like WE did."

   I laughed.  "Yessir, I thought that was rather amusing the first time we
met."

   Martha chuckled.  "We actually got introduced as 'the Washingtons' once
at a church social when the pastor got all flustered."

   George said, "Yeah I remember THAT.  And he got REALLY flustered when he
realized what he'd just said."

   In the waning light, Alex, Ronni's dad walked up.

   "Hi, Dad," Ronni said, seeing him before Martha and George did.

   "Hey, baby," he answered.  "Hi, Mizz Martha.  Mister George.  Did she
tell you?"

   George laughed.  "Your new son in law?"

   "Yeah," Alex laughed.  "his pants fit, he wears his hat right, he's got
a job..."

   "He's got tools you can borrow," Ronni laughed.

   Alex gave a little more information.  "It was probably a bigger surprise
to Dave than it was to me an' Rena.  Ronni's been after Dave for a while."

   "Oh," Ronni said, "When I was ten an' Dave's wife left, I wanted to be
his wife so he wouldn't be all sad an' lonesome."

   "That's so sweet," Martha said.  "And now look how I turned out."

   Ronni said, "Yeah, over the years I found out that I had feelings that I
could be serious about concerning Dave." She smiled.  "He hung around my
life for a bunch years.  He was always very nice, took care of me when dad
was on the road and helped us around the house."

   I said, "I was just doing the things that neighbors are supposed to do
for each other.  Ronni started out as the cute little kid next door."

   Ronni interrupted, "Dave, I'm not cute."

   I smiled, "I get to say you're cute now.  You just don't look like
everybody else's definition sometimes." I sighed.  "People can be terribly
wrong about things and everybody doesn't have to like the same thing and if
a guy wants to think that the girl he loves is beautiful, he gets to do
that."

   Mr.  George said, "I've always thought you were a cute girl, too."

   Ms.  Martha said, "You old goat, your eyes are so bad you don't know
what's cute and what's not."

   Mr.  George laughed.  "I know enough to think that you might be old but
you still make me very happy, wrinkles and all." He reached out and touched
her hand.

   Ronni smiled.  "You know, when I see you two, and I see my parents, it
gives me a lot of hope about marriage.  I know a lot of it is picking the
right partner.  But a lot of it is deciding that marriage is forever an'
that you're gonna stay married, even if things aren't so good sometimes. 
I've known Dave for 10 years.  But we haven't lived together and I know
that there are going to be things that we argue about.  But it's marriage
and that means it's supposed to be forever."

   I patted Ronni's hand.  "Maybe, this time I picked the right one.  I
mean, we stand together in front of our friends and in front of God and we
say it's gonna be forever but it boils down to you and me and, like you, I
look at your mom and dad and Mr.  George and Ms.  Martha and I know that it
can work for people.  And Ron, you're my hope for the future."

   Our old friends smiled.  "Yeah," George said, "we've seen a lot of
marriages break up and we've seen a lot of them stay together too.  I wish
I knew what the key was so I can sell it to people but I think you two are
off to a good start."

   Alex said, "I didn't know I was being an example all those years." He
snickered.  "I just thought that Rena was like the perfect person and how
lucky I was to have her decide that I was the one she wanted to be with."

   And if it was my turn to laugh, it was because Alex and Rena just seemed
natural together.  "Sometimes people do their best when they don't think
anybody's watching."

   Ronni smiled.  "I've been watching all my life.  I have a lot of friends
that have divorced parents and some of them been divorced more than once or
twice.  Me, with the same parents I started with, I'm kind of a rarity."

   "That's a sad thing," Mr.  George said.  "People used to understand that
till death do us part."

   It was starting to get dark.  Alex said, "Rena's got dinner ready
whenever you two are ready-to-eat."

   Ms.  Martha said, "Yes it is getting dark and it's time for dinner. 
This is when we find out exactly how patient Georgie is.  We're having
leftovers."

   I laughed.  "Ms.  Martha, I've had your leftovers and there's a lot of
people who would be happy to have them every day of the week."

   It was George's turn to laugh.  "Yeah that would be fine for some folks
but I'm kind of spoiled."

   Ms.  Martha picked up the tray and lemonade glasses and Mr.  George took
their two chairs and headed back to their yard.

   Alex relieve Ronni of the duty of wheeling me back to the house.  She
followed along dutifully.

   "Ron, why don't you go get your plates from your mom?" Alex said.

   "That was an interesting conversation," I said.  "They really are a nice
old couple.  I guess they've been together so long that they think alike."

   Alex laughed.  "Yeah, they have been together, what, 40 years?" He
breathed heavily pushing me up the ramp.  "But me and Rena, it's 18 years
for us.  And when I look at Ronni, I think, 'you know, we did pretty good.'
And she's a good kid.  Dave I think she'll be a good wife." He sighed. 
"You know, the only thing that I see is a downside is that whole kid
thing."

   "Kid thing?"

   "Yeah," he said, "I know you had a vasectomy.  I know it's not important
right now, and I know if I asked Ronni she'd say it wasn't important right
now.  But that's right now.  Me and Rena have talked about this.  I'm not
saying that Rena is the grandma type but I know that's in her head.  To be
quite honest I kind of think about it too."

   I sighed.  "I know, Alex.  We talked about that, first thing.  She
doesn't seem to have a problem with it.  But I know that sometimes mommy
genes take over.  We talked about adoption.  But you and I know that
sometimes women just want to have their own babies.  Me, I'm just happy to
have Ronni.  But you know, I'm thinking about the reversal.  I know now
that there is a pretty good chance of success."

   "I've heard about the reversal," said Alex.  "I'm not saying that's what
needs to be done right now.  I'm just saying that it's something you might
want to think about."

   "You know, Alex," I said, "I want to do what makes Ronni happy.  I'm 40.
Having one again at this age, or in a couple years isn't that big a deal to
me but we need to make that decision." I sighed.  "Let's just see what
happens."

   I was in the house now and Alex held the chair while I swung to my
recliner.  The door opened and Ronni and Rena came in bearing a tray with
two plates.

   Ronnie headed to the kitchen.  "Coke?"

   "Yeah," I said.  "That'd be nice."

   I heard kitchen noises and Ronni came back with two drinks.  She set up
my customary TV tray and moved our plates to it.  She pulled a chair up so
she could eat and help feed me.  I was starting to regain use of my left
arm so I didn't need as much help.  Ronnie, though, wanted to make sure
that I was okay.  Rena and Alex sat on the sofa close to one another.

   "You're going to the doctor again tomorrow aren't you?" asked Rena.

   "Yes," I said, "10 in the morning."

   Alex asked, "any idea what they're going to do this time?"

   "I hope they're gonna put me in a walking cast.  I'm tired of the
wheelchair.  I think I want crutches." I looked at Ronni.  "Ronnie's been a
jewel.  You guys work yourselves to death helping me.  But I'm tired of
being so dependent."

   Rena said, "We're just being good neighbors.  Look at all the times
you've helped us out."

   "Yeah, but I ended up with Ronni," I smiled.  "I'd have to be your slave
for life."

   "Nuh-uh," Ronni said.  "They ought'a pay you for taking me off their
hands." Giggle.

   "Okay then," I laughed, "we can call that a wash.  You guys still helped
me when I needed it."

   Alex laughed.  "Just being good neighbors Dave."

   Ronni finished her dinner and helped me put the finishing touches on
mine.  "Mom, I'll wash the dishes and bring 'em over in the morning." She
smiled.

   "Okay." Rena looked at Alex, then me, then Ronni.  "So you're gonna stay
over here and help ...  Dave?"

   Ronnie had an enigmatic smile.  She looked at me, then her parents. 
"Yes, Mom, Dave still can't get out of bed by himself.  He needs somebody.
That's me."

   Alex looked at his teenage daughter then me, his prospective son-in-law.
"You two will be all right.  Come on, Rena." He stood up, Rena stood up
beside him, and Ronni hugged her parents, kissing her dad on the cheek.

   "Dad, you know I love you and Mom.  I need to take care of Dave."

   Alex glanced at me with a smile on his face.  "Yeah, take care Dave. 
We'll see you in the morning.  Dave I'll be driving you to to the doctor's
office."

   "I appreciate that, Alex." I smiled.

   They closed the door behind them and Ronni locked it.  She turned to me,
smiling.  "Sweetie, we've had quite a day."

   "Yeah, news is out now.  We told Mr.  George and Ms.  Martha.  We didn't
tell them not to tell anybody else so that's like putting it in the paper.
Will be the biggest story on the block since the truck hit me."

   Ronni giggled.  "Yep.  You'll be the old child molester."

   "I hope not," I said, "Mr.  George and Ms.  Martha seemed to accept it
pretty well.  I can only hope the rest of the neighborhood does."

   "Uh-huh," Ronni admitted.  "They did take it well.  They're a nice
couple.  I was telling the truth.  They are a great example.  But people
are funny.  Some people are gonna take it like Martha and George.  But I'm
afraid that some people are gonna look at it and take it wrong." Her brow
knit.  "We're not doing anything wrong, you know."

   "I know," I said.  "But it's that age thing, baby.  Some people have
trouble looking past the external things.  I'm 40, you are 17.  That's got
exploitation written all over it, IF you want to dwell on things like that.
If that's what you want to believe.  Some people walk around all day
looking to find things wrong.  I know it's a crazy messed up world, but
don't you think it's better to want to see if people do good things?"

   "I know that, and you know that," she sighed, "but like a wise friend
used to tell me, 'that's not the way to bet'," she smiled.

   I snickered.  "I need to remember that you pay attention when I talk."

   "I've paid attention to you for years," she smiled.  "Would it be so
terrible if I tried to sit in your lap?"

   "I think that would be a wonderful idea.  I've watched you all day and
all I got to do was hold your hand and touch you.  You've got to know,
Ronni," I said, "I've wanted to put my arms around you and kiss you, just
because you're cute and smart and happy, and I love you."

   She eased into my lap, turned, and put her arms around my neck.  I got
the kisses I'd been waiting for.  And a few more that apparently I needed
for right now.  She rested against me, her cheek against my shoulder.  I
turned my head slightly and kissed her on top of her shiny brown head.  She
hadn't showered since last night, but she still smelled clean and, oh so
desirable.

   "We're gonna need to bathe you," she tittered.  "I guess that means I
have to take all your clothes off," she said smiling.

   "As long as you don't take advantage of the situation," I said.

   She giggled.  "I shall try to restrain myself."

   "See that you do."

   "Uh-huh." She stuck her tongue out at me.  She helped me into my
wheelchair, and wheeled me to the bed.  With her help I moved onto the bed.
She began to unbutton my pajamas and take them off of me.  When she peeled
off the old pajamas she sailed them towards the laundry hamper.  "Now roll
over so I can put some towels down."

   I dutifully complied.  For my efforts I got a slap on the ass.  "See,
you're taking advantage."

   Giggle.  "I'm gonna show you how to take advantage of somebody!" She
giggled again.  "Now don't go away.  I'll be right back." She went into the
bathroom.  I heard the water running and she came back with her tub of warm
water, a wash cloth and more towels.

   She had her act together with bathing me in bed, and since we began
playing with each other, she wasn't bashful about seeing me or bathing
around my crotch.  As a matter of fact, I think she took a little bit more
care with cleaning things down there.  Don't get me wrong, that's not a
complaint.

   After she finished bathing me, she looked at me, smiled, and asked,
"Now, should I dress you, or leave you like that?"

   "Oh, no!  I fear that if you leave me like this, somebody may take
advantage of me!" I grinned.

   Her eyes twinkled.  "Do you think we have like half an hour before you
get molested?" Giggle.

   I enjoyed playing with her.  "I think I'm safe for half an hour.  Past
that, I'm afraid that I may be molested.  Worse than that, I may be
required to perform sexual acts."

   "I can just about guarantee that," she smiled.  "I'm gonna go take a
shower now.  I'll be back.  And I'll make sure that you get taken care of."
She bent over me and kissed me and her hands roamed over my body and my
hands roamed over as much of hers as I could reach.

   I heard the water running in the bathroom, then the hairdryer, and then
she walked out completely nude, smiling.

   "Oh my," she giggled, "you're just laying there naked.  Somebody may
molest you." Very deliberately she crawled over me, being careful because
my ribs were still sore, and my left leg was still in a cast.  However, she
stopped halfway and lowered her chest to touch mine, kissing me, and
letting me get my arms around her.  I relished the sweet smell, freshly
showered, freshly shampooed, with a tasteful hint of perfume.

   "Oh, my!  That's very close to molestation!" I laughed.  "You may have
to do that again so I can make sure."

   She snuggled against my right side, tossing a long firm leg over mine.
Her left hand roamed, caressing me, my face, my chest, and then trailed
downward and grasped me.  I was already hard but her touch added another
dimension.  She purred.

   With my right hand I caressed her head, my fingers teasing her short
brown hair.  I put my hand behind her head, nudging her towards a kiss. 
She correctly read my intentions, crawled upward and over me slightly, and
our mouths met.  She drew her face back slightly looking into my eyes.

   "Do you think..." Her eyes were soft, questioning.

   "What do you have in mind, little one?" I asked.

   "Your mouth ...  Your tongue..." She had an uncharacteristic shy smile.

   "Sweetness, I would love to.  You have to know that I love that.  You
excite me in ways that I can't begin to describe."

   She smiled and started to move herself upward.  As her firm young
titties moved past my face, I captured a nipple in my mouth teasing it with
my tongue and teeth.  She drew a breath in sharply, "Oh my God," she
hissed. "You just reminded me how good something else feels."

   "Mmmmmm," I said.  "Delightful." I moved to the other one and repeated
the action.  She quivered.  Finally she pulled free and carefully straddled
my chest.  That put her freshly shaved pubic mound in front of my mouth.  I
moved my lips over it, savoring its smooth firmness.  I opened my mouth
wide, sucked her flesh into it, into my mouth, teased it lightly with my
teeth.

   This got me soft moans.  I moved a little lower, the tip of my tongue
teasing the moist beginning of her slit.  This reminded her of her original
goal.  She straightened up, bringing her aroused pussy to my mouth.  I let
my tongue savor the juices that covered her lips before allowing the tip to
dip in between them.  I covered her pussy with my mouth as much as I could,
sucking lightly, my tongue gathering the tasty juices.  She was shaking. 
One hand was holding onto the headboard, trying to support her weight
without hurting me, the other was on the back of my head encouraging me.

   I did my best.  We hadn't a lot of experience together but I was
beginning to understand how her body worked.  I regretted not having full
mobility to do the explorations, but what I discovered with my tongue was
sufficient for now.  I flicked and teased, keeping a light suction, trying
to read the motions of her body.  Her breath came in sharp gasps.  I loved
the way she responded.  I didn't have much hair to grasp but her fingers
worked on the back of my head pushing me into her.  I was happy with what
was in front of me as I teased them and licked my little doll to orgasm.

   When she crossed her threshold, her whole body shook, she made little
mewing sounds, signaling me to slow my efforts.  I stopped using my tongue
on her clit.  Finally her shaking stopped.  Tentatively I moved my tongue
back to touch the little pink pea.

   "Oh God yes," she hissed.  "Yes!  One more!"

   "Mmmmm!" I moaned.  I loved the way she felt.  I loved the way she
acted. She was so enthusiastic and responsive and innocent.  She wanted one
more.  I was very happy to comply.  My rewards were many.  I savored her
juices.  I enjoyed feeling her motions, her hips bucking against me as I
licked her.  Finally she went over the edge for the second time.  This time
she slid down off of me and lay beside me, wrapped in my right arm.

   "Dave, if it feels much better, I just may die!"

   "Sweetie, I love making you feel good."

   She nestled her face against my chest.  "Mmmmmm!  I never imagined
anything could feel like this, baby," she purred.  "You know, I hear other
girls talkin', and I hear the stories, and some of 'em were drunk and some
of 'em were high, and a lot of 'em, you know, I don't think they really
enjoy it that much.  A lot of them do it just because that's what their
boyfriend wants to do." She let out a long sigh.  Her face turned and her
eyes connected with mine.  "Dave, I really do enjoy it.  I get the idea
from Mom that you're supposed to enjoy it."

   "Well, baby, we have the capacity to enjoy this." I wasn't trying to
sound clinical, but my new young partner had questions.  "Yeah, I think
we're supposed to enjoy it.  What reason would we have NOT to enjoy it?  I
mean, we got all these neat pieces.  It feels so good when we each use one
with the other."

   Giggle.  "I know," she said, with a long sigh.  "I learned that that
little bit of me felt real good a few years ago.  I mean, I didn't do it
every night, but you know, it felt good." She gave a little titter.  "I'm
not gonna tell you what I thought about sometimes.  Or rather, WHO I
thought about.  But, you know, it felt good.  An' I knew that when I had a
partner, that little part would be part of feeling good together." She
looked at me with those brown eyes.  "Am I boring you?  I don't mean to
bore you."

   "There's no way that you're boring me, baby doll," I said.  "That makes
me kind of excited to know that you thought about me."

   "Well, I know I wasn't supposed to," she admitted, "but you know, Dave,
I can't help how I feel."

   "Well, while we're doing true confessions," I admitted, "you came up in
my mind more times than I want to admit, baby." I looked at her eyes.  I
was afraid I would see a shift, something that changed me in her mind from
friend and lover to creepy old guy.  Thankfully I didn't see that.  Instead
I saw a twinkle.

   "Dave," she said, "you gotta know that I wanted you to think about me
like that, too.  I mean, the last couple or three years, you know, when I
started understanding past girlfriends and boyfriends holding hands on the
playground, and started understanding about physical relationships, I knew
about physical attraction, and I saw pretty girls and how guys acted around
them, and then when you and me would be together on the road after an
event, an' you didn't show any of those signs, I thought maybe I was not
attractive enough."

   "Oh, no baby," I said softly.  "The real attraction starts inside a
person's head anyway.  That is if they've got their head screwed on
straight.  But don't even go there.  You're quite the delight to look at.
Yeah, I know, you're not the conventional beauty, blah, blah, blah.  But
you don't have to be.  You are you!  You're in no way unattractive.  Just
because you don't look like a swimsuit model bothers me not in the least. I
find you quite attractive.  You've always been cute in ways that I can't
catalog.  Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be.  Maybe inside my heart
there's a Ronni-shaped space.  I don't know.  Seeing you has always made me
smile." I continued, "But that doesn't matter, you were a teenager, I was
an adult, you were my friend, you are the daughter of my best friends, and
I wasn't supposed to be having those thoughts about you.  So when I did, I
just felt guilty.  And then we'd go somewhere, or I'd see you in the yard
and you'd be all cute and sweet and innocent, and I feel all guilty about
it.  I just pushed it into the back of my mind and go back to being your
friend and trying to keep from admitting to myself that I was becoming more
and more attracted to you.  For heaven's sake, you were a teenager, and why
in the world would you be interested in an old guy like me."

   "Shakespeare should've written something like this," she said.  "I hate
to say this, Dave, but I'm glad you got hit by a truck.  Honestly, I don't
know if I could have worked up the courage to come out and tell you.  When
I saw you hurt, I couldn't contain it and I had to admit it.  And I was
still scared."

   "I know, sweetness," I said softly.  "And exactly how was I going to
tell you?  Do you know how much risk that would be?  For me to admit that I
was in love with a 17-year-old girl that I was supposed to be taking care
of and being a friend to and just being around?  I mean, there was a huge
chance that your eyes would go wide open, you would scream, and think I was
some kind of creepy old molester."

   "I know, Dave," she said.  "But we ended up together and that's what
counts.  And even better your family and my family are okay with it.  You
know, a lot of people go into relationships with a whole lot less going for
them than we have." She kissed me.  Well, she kissed me, and then I kissed
her, and then we kissed each other.

   Her right hand traced down the center of my chest, down my stomach, and
her fingers curled around my dick.  Her eyes sparkled.  "I remember now.  I
was talking about how good some parts of me felt.  And I didn't get to
finish."

   "You didn't finish talking?"

   "No, sweetheart, I told you how I found out that I could make me feel
good, but I meant to tell you that you and me, well, it's, like, a million
times better.  I mean that solo thing I guess is okay, but I think it's
meant for me and you.  It just works so much better.  At least it does for
me." She looked at me grinning.  Her hand stroked me.  "And you?"

   "Ronni, you make me leave this universe.  Next to you, my wildest
imagination just shows me that my imagination didn't go far enough."

   "You know you don't have to say that, Dave.  I know you were married.  I
know you've been with other women.  I mean, I don't know anything."

   "Baby, what's to know?  You started off doing things inside my head. 
And the things you do to the outside of me are wonderful, and when you add
the two together, the feelings are past explanation." I stroked her cheek
with the back of my fingers, loving her face, savoring her eyes.

   "But, Dave," she said, "there's a lot of stuff I don't know.  I don't
wanna be a disappointment."

   "Ronni, my dearest little one, it is a complete impossibility for you to
be any kind of a disappointment to me.  And as far as anything in my life
before you came along, it all disappeared with the first kiss."

   The smile came back to her face, showing that her confidence was
restored.  We kissed for some minutes, but all the time that we kissed her
hand was exploring, her fingers tantalizing the underside of my scrotum,
teasing.  She noticed this.  As our lips parted her eyes were crinkled in a
smile.  "You know that part I said about how parts of me feel real good?"
Giggle.  "Is this one of those parts on you?"

   "Baby, you know it is!"

   She slid down my torso, her mouth stopping at my nipple.  She turned her
eyes towards me with a mischievous grin.  Her tongue flickered out, teasing
my nipple.  I shuddered.

   "You little thing!  You know what that does!"

   "As a matter of fact, yes I do!" She giggled.  "And there's something
else, too.  When I do this..." Her tongue teased my nipple, "this..." She
squeezed my dick, "gets all wiggly." She teased my nipple several times,
timing her tongue with strokes on my shaft.

   "Little girl, if you keep doing that, we're gonna have spots on the
ceiling!"

   "Well, since it's gonna be my house too, I don't think I want spots on
the ceiling." She grinned lasciviously.  "We'll just have to do something
to stop that."

   She slid further down my torso and I sucked in a breath expectantly.  It
was with good reason as her lips closed over the head of my dick, I moaned.
She purred with me trapped inside her mouth, the vibrations coursing
through my body.

   "Dave, that's another thing I heard the girls talkin' about.  A lot of
them didn't like this.  Just like the other thing, they did it because
their boyfriends wanted it." She looked up at me with a smile.  She licked
her lips.  "I really like it.  Seriously.  I really like it.  You know how
you make me feel good with your mouth.  I think when I do this to you, it's
wonderful that I have that to give to you." And another little giggle. 
"And I kinda have some control over you, too." Her head bobbed back down
pulling me to ecstasy.

   My right hand stroked that sassy brown hair.  I wasn't pushing her to do
anything.  I didn't need to.  She was doing what she wanted to do for
whatever the reasons and I was just happy that she was doing it.  Touching
her head was just another tactile input.  I really did adore her and not
because she was sucking me inside out.  I could feel the sensations
building.  Her right hand was cupping my scrotum.  Her head popped off my
dick and she said, "You know, I could feel things changing when I do this.
It's fun!  I love it." Her head bobbed back down, her lips tongue and teeth
working on me, and I was approaching the edge of the abyss.

   "Oh God baby, I'm getting close."

   "I know," she said, and went back to sucking me.  She enclosed my
scrotum, gently squeezing and tugging, her teeth lightly biting my shaft as
her head bobbed up and down.

   That was it!  I tried not to shove into her mouth, and wisely she had
her left hand circling my shaft in case I did.  I shoved.  The first squirt
erupted into her mouth.  I felt her tongue moving as she swallowed, a moan
resonating through me.  Her hand squeezed and milked as the second squirt
left me.  That got me a little giggle.  The third and fourth, and then a
steady stream of fire as my orgasm ran its course.  She kept sucking and
squeezing and milking, pulling me through a whole range of ecstasy.

   Finally I started to soften.  When this happened she moved her left hand
and slid my entire softening dick into her mouth.  I was drained.  She
moved up beside me, her eyes gleaming, a big smile on her face, and she
kissed me.  It wasn't a demure little kiss either, it was full; her tongue
brushed my lips, and I parted them.  In the kiss that followed, I could
taste remnants of myself.  That didn't stop me.  That didn't stop us.  It
was us.  We loved each other.

   We stayed in each other's arms for some minutes.  I don't know if she
just instinctively recognized the feelings that were going through me after
my orgasm but she cuddled up to me, caressing me, kissing me, and making me
feel loved and cared for in a way I'd never imagined.  Finally she said, "I
guess we need to get some clothes on so we can sleep good."

   Lethargically I answered, "As much as I hate for us to move, baby, I
guess so." I kind of felt bad that I couldn't help her, but I was still at
the stage where I couldn't get out of bed by myself.  She retrieved a clean
set of pajamas for me, and that silly nightshirt for herself.

   It was another one of my little pleasures that I watched her pull that
nightshirt over her sweet naked form.  When she pulled it down over her
head she saw me staring.  She giggled.  "I'm sure glad I was here to keep
you from being molested," she said.

   "Yeah," I said, "it would've been horrible if I'd been molested."

   She made a pass through the house, turning off lights and checking
doors. When she came back in the bedroom, the cat followed her, knowing
that the bed was now a peaceful place again.  He curled up at the foot of
the bed, and Ronnie curled up beside me.

   "And that oughtta make you sleep good," she giggled.

   "And you too, baby doll," I said.  Together we drifted off to sleep.



   ------

   Chapter 8

   Today was a 'visit the doctor' day.  Orthopedist, to be exact.  Time to
get a tuneup on my broken leg.  The day started with Ronni getting out of
bed, going to the bathroom, and then coming back to check on me.  She bent
over and kissed me a few times, bringing me from drifting along in that
sweet spot between sleep and wake to fully awake.  She led me to the
bathroom for my early morning ritual, and then helped me to my chair in the
living room.

   She went in the kitchen to start a pot coffee.  While she was in there I
heard her on the phone.

   "Hi, mom!," She said.  "Yeah, we're up.  I was just checking to see if
you're making breakfast.  Otherwise, I'm fixing him a bowl of Cheerios."
She giggled.  "No, Mom.  THAT'S not the reason." She paused.  "Oh, don't
worry about it.  I'm sure a bowl of Cheerios won't kill 'im."

   So I got to eat a bowl of Cheerios for breakfast.  She sat in the chair
near me, sharing the TV tray.  We turned on the news and let it play in the
background.  Finishing the Cheerios, Ronni collected the bowls and took
them into the kitchen, returning with two cups of coffee.

   She turned the TV off.  "Do we really need this noise?  she asked.  "I
mean, it's just so serene this time of the morning.  I don't know how much
of this we'll get to enjoy.  Usually there's something going on."

   "Yeah," I said.  "I'd normally be at work by now." That was the truth.
On a normal day, I got up at six, out the door at 6: 30 and in my office at
seven.  But for the past few weeks, life was anything but normal.

   A little later in the morning, Ronni help me get dressed for my upcoming
doctor's appointment.  Putting a shirt on me wasn't a problem anymore since
the bandages were off my arm.  Pants, though were another problem entirely.
The cast was too bulky to pull pants up over.

   "Tell you what," I told Ronni.  "Look up on the top shelf inside my
closet.  There's some old medical scrubs that I use for knocking around the
house."

   "Yeah, I remember seeing you wear those."

   "Uh-huh," I said, "that cotton is comfortable in the summertime.  Let's
sacrifice a pair those trousers."

   She came back with a pair.  "I think they're the rattiest looking pair
you had," she said.  "Let's get these pajamas off of you," she smiled,
kneeling in front of me.  As she unsnapped my pajamas, she started
giggling. "Oops," she tittered, "forgot you don't have underwear on."

   I laughed.  "Yeah, okay 'forgot'.  I haven't had underwear on for four
weeks, and YOU'RE the one that has dressed me."

   She looked around quickly, then her head bobbed downward, her mouth
opened, and she sucked my semi-erect dick into her mouth.  "Mmmmm," she
purred.

   I expelled a breath.  "Baby," I said, "don't tease me."

   Her eyes laughed as she released me from her mouth.  "'S not teasing,
love.  It's just a sample." She started pulling the scrub trousers up over
my legs.  When she got as high as she could over the cast, she stopped. 
She looked at me.  "Scissors?"

   "Yep!  Snip 'em right up the seam so you can pull the pants all the way
up."

   She complied.  The result was something that wouldn't win fashion shows
but met the requirements of modesty.  I wasn't going to a four-star
restaurant, I was going to a doctor's office.  After she finished with the
pants thing, she put a sock and shoe on my left foot.  Then she giggled. 
"If I was really dressing you up," she laughed, "I think I'd paint your
toenails."

   "Be careful, little one," I said.  "You will be a hopeless cripple
forever."

   About 20 minutes after that, we heard a knock on the door.  I looked at
Ronni.  "Baby, can you get that?" I said, sarcastically.

   And she bounced up, turned, sticking her tongue at me.  Opening the
door, she said, "Hi, Dad!  He's ready."

   The two of them loaded me into the wheelchair, wheeled me out to the
car, and seated me in the front passenger seat.  Ronni crawled in the back
seat behind me after she buckled my seat belt.  Alex loaded the wheelchair
in the back of the SUV, then drove us to the doctor's office where they
unstrapped me and rolled me into the waiting room.

   It wasn't long before my name was called and I was wheeled back into the
bowels of the office.  I was laid on the table, the old cast removed, a set
of x-rays taken, and a new shorter, lighter cast was applied.

   "Okay, Mister Dave," the doctor said.  "You're coming along quite
nicely. You can start hobbling around a little bit with this cast.  You can
put a little weight on the leg.  Try using it a little bit to keep the
muscles from atrophying.  Use crutches if you wanna move around any real
distance."

   "How much longer am I going to have a cast?" I asked.

   "Another two or three weeks," he said.  He looked at Ronni, then back at
me.  "You know," he said, "I can set you up with a plastic surgeon if you
want to see if you can do something about that scar on your head.  Hair'll
cover up most of it, but they can probably make it a little less
obtrusive."

   "Ronni?  You think I'll try and get it fixed so I can pursue a career as
a male model?"

   Ronni giggled.  "That's up to you, babe," she said.  "We can talk about
that later, but I don't think it's a problem."

   I looked at the doctor.  "She gets to say," I said.  "She's the future
Mrs.  Johnson," I told him.  "Our wedding day is set for the day after I
get my cast off, so that's why I'm asking."

   He looked at the two of us and said, "You don't have to wait till the
stupid cast comes off.  I know I wouldn't." He smiled.

   We had a little talk about painkillers and about do's and don'ts and
then I slid back into my wheelchair and out the door we went, the proud
possessor of a fine a new pair of crutches.  Thirty minutes later we were
home.  When we came in the driveway, Alex and Ronni came around with the
wheelchair.

   "No," I said, "let me try the crutches.  It's about time I was able to
get around on my own." Gingerly I eased out of the seat of the SUV,
carefully positioning the crutches, tripodding myself on my good leg and
the two crutches.  I eased my left leg down.  "There!" I said, "I'm
standing all by myself."

   Ronni giggled.  She knew I was trying to be funny.  "Wow!  Just like a
big boy!"

   "You sure you're okay, Dave?" Alex asked.

   "No," I said.  "Your daughter shows horrible disrespect for her future
husband."

   He laughed.  "Gets it from her mom..."

   I took a first tentative step, then another, and then confident of my
new success, I proceeded to my own front door with Ronni hovering nervously
beside me.

   "Ron, give 'im a little room!" Alex said.  "He needs to be able to do
that on his own."

   "Why?  I'm gonna take care of 'im anyway, crippled or not.  He's my
husband." She smiled at her dad, then pulled the keys out of her purse and
opened the front door so I could go in.

   Alex walked in behind us, checking on things around the house for me. 
"It's time to cut your yard again," he said.  "I can do it."

   "Nope," I said.  "Get the kid up the street.  He does a good job and
he'll appreciate the money, and you an' me can sit on the front porch an'
drink beer and watch 'im."

   "Yep, if you wanna be one of those guys that just sits on his front
porch an' watches other people do their yard work." Ronni said.  She looked
at her dad with an exaggerated frown.

   "See," Alex laughed.  "She's already denying you your simple pleasures."
He sighed.  "You gonna call that kid to cut your grass?"

   "Yeah," I said.  "His number's next to the phone." I lowered myself to
the sofa.  It was the first time I did that without assistance since the
accident.  I felt a sense of accomplishment.

   "I'll call him," Ronni said.

   "Well, if you two are gonna be okay, I'm gonna go see what Rena's doing.
We need to get something for lunch anyhow," he said.

   "Look," I said, "why don't you let me foot the bill for pizza for
supper?" I said.  "Savin' her the trouble of cooking dinner."

   "Well, if she's already got it on the stove, then we wait'll tomorrow
for the pizza thing?"

   "Well, see what she's got going.  It's always an option."

   "Okay," Alex said.  "I'll see you two later."

   "We'll be okay, Dad," Ronni said.  She watched her dad disappear across
the yard, then turned to me, smiling.  "Babe, you can walk now."

   "And that means exactly what?" I asked.

   "It means that just maybe you don't need to have me around here 24 hours
a day."

   "Are you out of your ever-lovin' mind?" I blurted.  "If I have any
choice about it, I'll never be without you around for the rest of my life."
I looked at her.  "Besides, hobbling around on crutches, I mean, that's a
step, but I'm hardly a hundred percent."

   She looked at me, smiling.  "Dave, I don't WANT to go.  But I've been
here every night for the last four weeks, almost around the clock.  You're
not, like, that tired of me?"

   "Not likely, sweet one," I sighed.  "Didn't I say I loved you?"

   "Yeah, but..."

   "Don't make me chase you.  C'mere, sweetie."

   She came closer.  I took her hand.  "Sit in my lap.  I think I need to
get my arms around you."

   She complied, settling in gently.  She looked at me with those big brown
eyes.  "Dave?  Are you sure?"

   "Are YOU sure?  Baby, I love you.  But I don't want to force you into
anything.  That includes you staying here, and that includes you marrying
me."

   "UH, Dave, that's not what I'm saying.  I just thought..."

   "If you thought I needed private time, sweetie, there may be a day where
that crosses my mind.  But I just can't see it.  Not from here anyway." I
kissed her.

   She circled me with her arms and buried her face in my neck.  I stroked
her soft brown hair, and let my hand stroke her back, savoring her curves.
"Baby, I want you to stay.  Forever."

   "Okay, baby," she whispered.  "I was just trying to give you a little
space."

   "Sweetie," I said, "maybe when we're older, uh, when YOU'RE older, we
may enjoy little bit of space but right now I just find myself very happy
to have you around."

   "You sure, Dave," she said.  "Not just 'cuz I was, like, helpful?"

   "Little girl," I said, "you were exactly as useful as I ever imagined
you would be, being helpful at a time when I absolutely needed it.  But
that's not what we said to each other.  It's one thing to lend a helping
hand, even several.  But you said you love me and when you said it, it was
the most wonderful thing I ever heard.  Because I love you.  Ron, I want to
MARRY you.  I even asked your mom and dad.  And you and I told the
neighbors.  Is that something that I would've done just to stay on your
good side?  Because you feed me?  Take care of me?"

   She looked at me from a very close distance.  "Uh, Dave, I, uh, WE did a
whole lot more."

   "Silly, silly little girl!  That's what I mean.  We did stuff that I
would NOT've done with you if I didn't love you.  I wouldn't let you do
things if I didn't think you loved me.  We talked.  Neither one of us was
into any kind of casual sex thing.  Love.  Had to be." I stroked her face,
willing my fingers to transmit my feelings directly to her.

   "I'm sorry, baby," she said.  "I guess sometimes, it just hits me. 
Dave, you gotta know how many nights I laid in bed thinking to myself how
much I wanted to be with you.  Married.  I don't know why.  But I do."

   "Then don't get all flaky on me, cutie," I chided.  "You an' me're gonna
be together for a long, long time.  We'll have plenty of time to get on
each other's nerves an' get all aggravated an' have good days and bad days
together.  Okay?"

   She answered with kisses.

   We stayed that way for a while, me leaning back into the sofa, Ronni
cuddled in my lap, her arms around my neck.

   Finally, she got up.  "Doctor said three weeks, an' you're out of your
cast.  D'ya wanna talk about the wedding?"

   "If you still want to marry me," I said.  "You sure?"

   "Sorry, babe," Ronni said.  "I know what's happenin'.  I think I'm
startin' my period.  I get, I dunno, maybe just a little bit, you know,
emotional?"

   "So that's it?  A period?"

   She nodded, her brown eyes soft, a little sheepish expression on her
mouth.  "I'm sorry.  Forgive me?"

   "Of course I forgive you.  Even though you haven't done anything wrong.
I mean, everybody's got MOODS.  As long as you still love me."

   "Only on days that end with 'Y'," she giggled.  "Now, about that
wedding..."

   "What about it?"

   "Dave, you get a say-so in this thing."

   "No," I said, "I get a Ronni.  It's, like, the BEST thing in the world."

   "But baby," she said, "how do you want to do it?"

   "Sweetie," I said, "I thought we had that all figured out.  You.  Me. 
Your mom and dad.  My sister and her family.  And past that, we send out
invitations.  We already invited George and Martha.  And anybody else in
the neighborhood that might be interested.  I'll invite some people from
work.  You might want a few people from school.  What else?"

   "Like who's gonna do the ceremony?"

   "Didn't we say the pastor of your church?" I thought for a second.  "Why
don't you see if your mom can come over?  I mean, if you want her to.  She
might have some ideas, but at least she needs to hear what we're talking
about."

   "That sounds like a good idea." She picked up the phone and dialed her
house.  "Hi, Mom!  Are you busy?" Pause.  "Yeah, if you can.  Me an' Dave
want to talk to you." Pause.  "Okay!  Just walk on in.  The door's
unlocked." Pause.  "Okay!  See you in a minute.  Love you, Mom!"

   Ronni turned to me.  "An' now we give you a few kisses.  I owe you."

   "Owe me?"

   "For gettin' all stupid and everything." Before I could reply, she was
kneeling beside me on the sofa, her arms around me, little kisses
preventing me from speaking.  She stopped when she heard her mom's
footsteps on the porch.

   Rena knocked.  Ronni went to the door and opened it.  "Mom!  I SAID it
was unlocked!"

   Rena laughed.  "Then how come you bounced off the sofa when you heard my
steps on the porch?"

   "'Cuz I didn't want you walking in on me, kissing him."

   Rena looked at me, then at Ronni.  "Don't you think that I might just
suspect that you and him have kissed?" Rena's eyes said something different
than what her mouth said.

   Ronni interpreted her mom's expression and immediately blushed. 
"Moooommmmm!"

   "So what is it y'all want to talk about?" Rena asked.

   "Your daughter and I were talking about the upcoming wedding.  I'm just
a guy.  I haven't a clue.  So we wanted you to get in on the conversation."

   Ronni excitedly conveyed our previous conversation to her mom.

   Rena looked thoughtful.  "So, like, a couple of dozen, maybe 30 people
tops?"

   Ronni said, "Gosh!  It's sort of blossomed, didn't it?  I was thinking
like twelve or fifteen people, tops."

   "Well, baby," Rena said, "let's go down the list." We talked about it
again.  Holding it in the neighborhood, it was kinda hard not to invite the
neighbors.  And my sister and her family.  Kinda hard to scratch them.

   After a few minutes of discussion, we settled on thirty.  "That
shouldn't be too expensive to cater," I said.

   After about an hour, the wedding moved out of Rena and Alex's backyard
and into their church.  Then Ronni put her foot down.  "Mom!  Me and Dave
WANT to get married in the back yard.  People on the block.  Dave's family.
Us.  Barbecue.  Okay?"

   "Okay," Rena said.  "July sixteenth.  I'll call the pastor." She looked
at us.  He'll be wanting to talk to you both.  Together and separately, I'm
sure."

   "I can do that, Rena," I said.  "I'll be here whenever..."

   "By the way, son-in-law," Rena said, "I appreciate what you told Alex
about pizza.  Tomorrow, okay?  I got a casserole in the oven for dinner."

   "Okay, mother-in-law," I laughed.  'Mother-in-law', and she was MY age.

   Mid-afternoon, the phone rang.  Ronni answered.  "Oh, hi, Reverend
Jenkins!" Pause.  "Yessir.  He's here.  He can get around on crutches now,
but I still help 'im out." Pause.  "Yessir.  Here he is!" She passed me the
phone.  "Reverend Jenkins.  Our pastor."

   "I know," I said.  "I'm not THAT big a heathen."

   She giggled.

   I took the receiver.  "Hello, Reverend Jenkins."

   "Mister Dave Johnson, you can call me Paul if you want..." he said.

   "Okay," I said.  "You can be Paul if I can be Dave..."

   He laughed easily.  "Sounds good.  Miz Rena tells me news of you and her
daughter.  Marriage?"

   "It's true, Paul," I said.  "Ronni's the silver lining to my recent
cloud."

   "So Miz Rena tells me that you two want me to perform your wedding?"

   "True statement," I said.  "Ronni's idea.  You're her pastor."

   "Well," he said, "I'd be happy to do the service.  But you have to
understand, I need to talk to the two of you.  Together.  And one at a
time."

   "That sounds fair enough to me," I said.  "Would'nt've expected anything
different.  When do you wanna do it?  Talk to us, I mean?"

   "Any time you want," he said.  "This afternoon?"

   "Uh, well, it's not like I'm gonna be out joggin'," I laughed.

   "Yeah, how's your recovery going?"

   "Went to the doctor this morning.  Got a walking cast.  I'm finally
mobile again."

   "You and Ronni gonna be available in say, an hour?"

   I spoke to Ronnie in a voice loud enough so that Reverend Jenkins could
hear.  "Ronni?  You gonna be here in about an hour?"

   "I don't have anything else to do," she said.

   "We'll be here," I said.  "So we can expect you about an hour?"

   "Okay, then," he said.  "I'll see you in about an hour."

   "Sounds good, Paul," I said.

   An hour later, I heard a car pull up into the driveway.  A middle-aged
man exited the car, informally dressed, carrying a small black Bible in his
hand.  Baptists!

   Ronnie was at the door and opened it at his first knock.  "Hi, Reverend
Jenkins," she said brightly.  "Come in!"

   He walked in.  I extended my hand and welcome.  "You'll excuse me if I
don't just jump up," I said, smiling.

   He eyed my cast as well as a sartorial splendor of the scrubs that I had
on, the ones altered by Ronni for my doctors visit earlier in the morning.
"Impressive!  How are you feeling?" He asked.

   "Pretty good, actually," I said.  "Been off painkillers for a couple
weeks.  An' I just got this new cast this morning.  I can actually get
around on crutches."

   Ronni sat on the sofa next to me.  Reverend Jenkins looked at us both.
"So you're getting married?"

   We both nodded.  Ronni's nod was a little bit more energetic than mine.
"Yes sir," she said, smiling.  "And we'd really like you to do the
ceremony. You've been my pastor for, like, years!"

   "I like doing weddings," he said.  "But, you know, I kinda like to talk
to the participants ahead of time.  I take the whole idea of marriage
rather seriously." He looked pensive.  "Today, though..."

   "I know," Ronni said.  "There aren't that many kids in my high school
that still have both parents married toeach other."

   I sighed, commenting, "And I'm one of those statistics that you're
probably thinking about right now."

   "Well, Miss Ronni," Paul said, "I guess this is as good a place to start
as any.  Can you let me and Mister Dave have a little time to talk?"

   "Sure," she said.  "Be nice to 'im..." She smiled and waved her cell
phone as she left.  "Call me..." And she bounced out.

   "She sees this as a milestone, Paul," I said.  "Marvelous girl..."

   "That's a good place to start, Dave.  She's a girl.  Seventeen.  You're
what?  Forty?"

   "A year shy of that, Paul.  Thirty-eight right now, birthday in a
month."

   "Age difference is a REAL issue, you know..."

   "Or not," I countered.  "Marriages fail for a lot of things.  Mostly
because people just quit trying."

   "Yes," he said, entering his 'counsellor' mode, "and one of the things
they have to try is how to get along with one another.  Interests, likes,
dislikes ...  It's easier if the ages are closer."

   "I can understand some of that.  Ronni and I have talked.  She's not the
mall rat, pop culture, 'latest fad' kind of girl, Paul.  Not flighty,
air-headed.  A thoroughly decent girl."

   "Your neighbor's daughter."

   "Paul, I never thought of her as belonging TO somebody.  She IS my
neighbor.  And her mom and dad are some of my best friends.  No, scratch
that.  They ARE my best friends."

   "A lot of people would ask questions, Dave."

   "Yeah, I know ...  Let's see: 'How long has this been going on?' Paul,
that depends on who you ask, and what you define as 'going on'.  Ronni
tells me that she announced to her mom and dad that she wanted to be my
wife when my first wife left me an emotional train-wreck.  I've always
admired Ronni as an unusual young lady.  But if you mean 'going on' as in
we BOTH knew how each other felt?  That's just since a few days after my
accident."

   "That's ONE of the questions, Dave," Paul admitted.  "I'd ask it
myself."

   "I'd ask it, too," I admitted.  "Uh, next question: ' Is she pregnant?'
No!  She's, as far as I know, a virgin, by her own admission."

   "Her parents tell me she's the proverbial 'good girl'," Paul said. 
"That's a 'plus', as far as I'm concerned.  What about Dave?"

   "Nope!  Nothing since I was married.  Some of us still have morals, you
know..."

   "Would you lie to a preacher?" he said.  There was a hint of a smile.

   "Nope.  And not like I didn't have opportunity.  Single guy.  Good job.
Owns his own home.  You have any idea how many women regard that as the
keys to, well..."

   "I can imagine," he said.

   "But I didn't.  Had to find one that 'clicked'.  More to life than arm
candy.  At the end of the day, it's gotta be somebody you can talk with."

   "You oughtta teach seminars," Paul laughed.

   "Wasn't easy, Paul.  Mister George next door asked me if I was gay, you
know, being single and no women visiting."

   "And Ronni?"

   "Ronni was a young friend.  You know Alex, her dad, right?  How he has
to travel for work?  I was kind of the adopted 'team dad' in Alex's place.
Drove Ronni and her team-mates to events, that kind of stuff.  Helped
coach."

   "So you..." he started.

   "I know Ronni.  I've watched her on her best days and her bad days. 
I've been tutor to her in schoolwork her mom and dad weren't comfortable
with.  Not just Ronni, either.  I've had four or five kids here for algebra
lessons."

   "What about a future together?"

   "That's easy, Paul," I said.  "I'm in good health.  I expect to be
around for forty more years.  I asked Ronni the same thing, and she told me
that forty years was more marriage than most people get these days."

   "True enough," Paul admitted.  "Kids?"

   "Sticky point.  First wife had a difficult pregnancy.  I got a vasectomy
so she wouldn't risk another one.  Ronni knows about it.  There ARE
options."

   "One more thing, Dave.  I've seen you in church, but you're not a
regular."

   "Paul, just because I don't go doesn't mean I don't believe."

   "Fair enough," he admitted.

   "Paul," I said.  "I love the girl.  What else do you need to know?"

   "Nothing," he answered.  "I suppose that talking with Ronni's not gonna
change anything, but I do need to talk to her."

   I picked up the phone and dialed her.  "Hi, Ron," I said.  "Reverend
Jenkins would like to talk with you now."

   "Everything okay?" she asked.

   "As okay is it'll be until I get the cast off, and marry you."

   Squeal!

   "I take it that she's happy?" Paul asked.

   "Stays happy.  One of the best things about her," I said.

   We heard the footsteps on the porch, and she walked in.

   "Can we go sit on the porch and talk, Miss Ronni?" Paul asked.

   "Sure," she said.  "Baby," she said, looking at me, "D'ya need anything?
A coke?"

   "Nah," I said.  "I'm good.  Go talk."

   The two of them went outside.  I stuck my earbuds in and listened to my
iPod until I felt the door open.  Ronni entered first, smiling, followed by
Paul.  She sat on the sofa beside me.

   "Okay," he started, "I've talked with both of you and I'm satisfied that
this isn't some sort of suburban fling going on.  Dave, I've known Ronni
ever since I started as pastor of this church.  I know her folks.  And they
know how I am about performing weddings.  You can go get married by a
Justice of the Peace, if you want, but you guys asked me instead, so that
means you both think of it as more than some legal thing.  I wanted to see
how you felt about it as human beings, on a personal and spiritual level.
And I've satisfied myself.  " He opened his bible and pulled a sheet of
paper from between its pages.  "I have you two down for July Sixteenth,
right?"

   Squeal!  "Yes!" Ronni said.

   "And you're doing the ceremony here in your back yard?"

   "Friends.  Neighbors.  Family.  And in the sight of God." I said.  "How
it's supposed to be."

   Paul smiled.  "Yes, I think that's a better deal than 'princess for a
day', guys.  And Dave?"

   "Yessir?"

   "Show up at church.  We'll let you park in the handicapped slot for a
while." He laughed.

   "I'll do that," I said.

   Ronni walked him to the door.  Her next move was to call her mom. 
"Mom!" Pause.  "Yes, we're finished!  Reverend Jenkins is gonna marry us!"
Pause.  "Okay!  I'll be right over!"

   She smiled at me.  "Nope!  Gotta KISS you," she squealed.

   I relished the kisses.

   "I'm goin' get us dinner, baby," she said, heading out the door.  Ten
minutes later, she walked back in with Alex and Rena.  And a tray of food.

   "Another hurdle passed," I told them.  Ronni nodded happily.

   "I'm glad for you two," Rena said.  "I know we could've gotten somebody
else, but that's OUR church."

   "Yeah," Alex added.  "Make it as respectable as we can.  Don't matter,
though.  You know how many people are putting an 'X' on the calendar when
word gets out, to see if we become grandparents?"

   "Fooled 'em, didn't we, babe?" I said, grinning at Ronni.

   Her and her mom both giggled.

   After dinner, I requested my crutches.  The gang, me and my future wife
and in-laws, walked out into the late afternoon.  I plop-clumped my way
across the yard with my crutches, stopping to wave at Mister George and Miz
Martha who were sitting on their porch.  I made my way to my chair and sat
down.

   It became readily obvious that the news of the impending wedding was
out. Another of the nearby neighbors, a woman several years younger than
me, came over, trailed by a little girl just a bit older than a toddler.

   "Hi, Dave.  Hi, Ronni!  Alex.  Rena!  I heard the news.  Ronni,
congratulations!"

   "Thanks, Mizz Liz," Ronni said.

   The little tow-headed girl said, "Ronni, you're getting' MARRIED?"

   "Yes, Kaylee," Ronni smiled.  "To Mister Dave." Ronni's smile deepened.
"Miz Liz, we're not doin' a real fancy wedding, but if Kaylee could wear a
nice dress, I need a flower girl."

   Little blue-eyed blonde girls are really cute when they smile.

   "When's the wedding?" Liz asked.

   "July Sixteenth.  One PM.  In our backyard.  The whole neighborhood's
invited.  Wear what you want.  But Kaylee..."

   "I've got a REAL pretty dress, huh, Mom?" Kaylee said.

   "Wear what you want?" Liz asked.  "Like Ricky can wear a t-shirt an'
jeans?" Ricky was her husband.

   "Perfect!" I said.

   "Dave..." she smiled.  "You an' Ronni ...  I guess, really, she's a
better, LOT better, match than my friend I tried to set you up with."

   Ronni's eyebrow arched.  I said, "oh, HER.  How's she doing?"

   Liz shrugged.  "Another husband come and gone, and she's thirty-seven
with a two-year-old..."

   Liz and Kaylee wandered off.

   I know Ronni was waiting to ask.  "She tried setting you up with her
friend?  Like a date?"

   "Yes, she tried setting me up.  EVERY woman has friends who're looking
for husbands.  And NO, no date.  The phone call was enough.  Woman was NOT
what I was looking for.  Even when I didn't KNOW I was lookin' for YOU!"

   That comment got me a hug from Ronni.  "Just so you don't have regrets,
babe," she said.



   ------

   Chapter 9

   We remained in the yard, talking, enjoying the breeze as the sun eased
behind the trees, then we went inside.

   "Okay," she said.  "Bath time.  And by the way, yesterday?"

   "What about yesterday?" I asked.

   "When I got all emotional."

   "Oh.  I forgot about that."

   "'S my period.  Right on time.  So I'm out of it for a few days.  At
least to your tongue an' your fingers..."

   "Okay on the 'tongue', babe, but..."

   "But, nothing.  Not on my period." She looked at me determinedly.

   "You get to say.  I was just offering."

   She cuddled next to me.  "I really like THAT with you, baby," she
sighed. "But..." Her hand touched my cast.  She changed the subject.  "So
now you can hobble around."

   "Feels good," I said.  "I don't feel as helpless."

   "Good!" she said.  "And I don't feel as bad about takin' advantage of
you.  You ready for dinner?"

   "Whenever," I said.

   She left and returned with dinner from her mom's.  Good food.  And now,
with two arms, I could feed myself.  I've eaten many a meal alone in this
house.  It was wonderfully pleasant to have Ronni there with me.  We
laughed and talked as we ate, then she took our dishes to the kitchen and
started the dishwasher.

   "Let's do a sponge bath tonight, babe," she said.  "Tomorrow I'm gonna
get a big plastic bag, and a stool, an' maybe you can sit in the shower."

   That was an interesting thought.  I crutched my way to my bedroom and
lowered myself onto the bed atop a layer of towels carefully laid out by
Ronni.  I was able to offer considerably more assistance in my undressing
than before, but she still insisted, and when it came to getting my scrub
trousers off, I was at her mercy.

   That's a horrible thing.  She loosened the drawstring at the waist,
tugging the waistband down as far as she could, then rolled me from side to
side until she had me uncovered.  No underwear.  Ronni.  Smiling.  In close
proximity.  Yes, I got hard.

   She giggled.  "You know, it does that EVERY time now."

   "I know.  It knows you." I slid my hand down along her waist and hip.

   "I know it, too.  And I know something fun to do to it." Her head bobbed
down.  I moaned.

   As she started sponging me off, she said, "Something I want to talk
about, baby..." she sounded a little more serious than normal.

   "What's that, sweet one?" I asked.

   "You know, we've been having a lot of fun, playing with each other, you
know, your hands, your mouth ...  and I love doin' that with you." Her soft
brown eyes...

   "You're a delight, my dear.  I love doing it with you too, you know..."
I said.  I was truthful.  She was happy and enthusiastic and seemed to
enjoy the pleasures we'd shared with each other.

   "Baby, you know, I'm a virgin.  I mean, we have fun doing things, and I
don't want to stop any of that, but I want to stay a virgin until we're
married." She looked at me with a little bit of a worried look on her face.
"Does that make you mad?"

   "Of course not, sweetie," I said.  "I've enjoyed what we've done
together, too.  It's all very wonderful and magical with you.  But I can
understand how you feel about virginity.  And we can wait.  I mean, we
don't have to do anything.  That's not why I love you.  That's not why I
want you around.  Me, I'm happy to just have you in the house with me.  And
if I can hold hands and we can cuddle and we can kiss, even better."

   "Uh, baby," she said, "I didn't mean I wanted to stop that stuff.  Any
of it.  I mean between me and you, the hugging and kissing," she smiled
demurely, "and that OTHER stuff, that's just us being intimate with each
other.  I mean, I've NEVER done anything like that with anybody else.  Not
even really kissed another boy.  You'll be the only one I ever do any of
that stuff with." She sighed.  "I mean, I hope I'm, like, GOOD at it."

   "Baby," I said, "you're the BEST."

   "But I don't know what I'm doin'," she said.

   "But I know what you're doing.  You're driving me crazy.  I love what
you do.  How you do it.  THAT you do it.  Kiss me."

   She kissed me.  She did more than kiss me.  She hugged me and she buried
her face in my neck and whispered her love to me.  Then she sat up.  "I
need to get your bath finished you know.  You're being very distracting."

   "I'm not the one that started talking about sex!" I said.

   "Wasn't talking about sex.  Was talking about me being a virgin."

   "I'm glad you're virgin, baby.  But I'm even more glad that you're you.
And three weeks isn't too long to wait."

   "I've been waiting since I was TEN."

   "What?!?  What have you been waiting for since you were 10?"

   "To get in your bed.  To be your wife."

   "But when you were ten you didn't know what husbands and wives did."

   "All I knew was that I wanted to be your wife.  To make you smile, so we
can be happy together.  Whatever it took." She kissed me again.  "When I
got older and found out what husbands and wives really did in bed, I wanted
to do THAT with you.  I did!  And you know what?  That's one of the reasons
why I'm a virgin.  If you would've showed up one day with a new wife, I
don't know if I'd still be a virgin anymore.  But I kinda told myself that
as long as there was a chance that you an' me would be together, I was
gonna wait so I can be totally yours."

   "Baby, I'm glad you waited.  And you know what?  I guess I'm glad that
you waited till I had this accident to tell me.  I don't know how I
could've handled it, as much time as we spent on the road together, if I'd
known how you really felt about me.  This way, it's kinda like I can be all
honorable about it.  Both of us can be."

   She shoved me over on my back to sponge down the other side of me, then
rubbed me down briskly with a towel.  She started pulling the towels off
the bed, and putting them in a pile.  Then she crawled in the bed beside
me, insinuated herself against me.

   "Honorable!  That's us.  Yeah, I know.  There were so many times that I
looked at you and I thought about, maybe I should just go ahead and tell
'im.  But I just couldn't figure out how we would handle it.  And then the
day of your accident it just all came out.  I was so scared that I'd lost
my chance to tell you."

   "Angel," I said, "sometimes it just takes big event like the accident to
get people to sort things out.  I guess that's what happened with you and
me.  Doesn't look like either one of us could see a way to talk to one
another until you thought I was dead."

   She lay beside me in bed.  We were an odd couple.  I'm stripped
completely naked with the exception of the cast from right above my knee to
my foot, and she's fully clothed.  But you know what?  I'm a whole lot more
mobile than I used to be.  It didn't take much for me to roll over to face
her and now both my arms worked.  I held her against me and kissed her and
told her how much I loved her.

   I guess it almost sounds sappy, but Ronnie and I were cementing the way
that we felt about one another.  Yes.  Ronnie.  Plain Ronnie.  Now I
question how I ever imagined her to be plain.  Now I saw her as magical. 
She wasn't conventional in her beauty.  But I loved her and I saw that she
had beauty and it was special and wonderful and that she was in my arms,
right now, made it even more special and wonderful.

   Of course I had both my arms around her holding her against me.  Her
arms were still free.  At first she caressed my head, pulling my face
against her for kisses.  Then she freed up one hand and that hand magically
appeared between us, exploring and it didn't take her long to find what she
was looking for.

   She pulled her face back from mine and said, "I told you I didn't want
to stop this part."

   "But, baby," I said, "you won't let me do anything to you."

   "So what?  Does that mean I can't play with you.  Just because I won't
let you play with me?" Her eyes twinkled.

   "Doesn't seem fair."

   Giggle.  "What's that saying go?  'All's fair in love and war'?" She
smiled at me.  "So what is it?  Love?  Or war?" Her lips met mine, our
tongues mixing.  She pulled back.

   "Sure doesn't feel like any war that I'm aware of."

   "It's not like we're keeping score or somethin'.  I LIKE doing this. 
With my hand.  Or with my mouth.  You wanna stop me from doing something
that I like?"

   I stroked that shiny brown hair, brushing the strand away from her face.
"I don't wanna stop you from doing anything you think is fun.  I just don't
want you to think that you gotta do stuff just to please me."

   She was smiling and she pulled further away and then started to slide
downward in the bed.  Her face turned towards me, eyes twinkling, telling
me that she knew exactly what she was doing to me.  Her fingers on one hand
curved under my scrotum, lightly tickling, causing my dick to lurch.  The
fact that a mere touch from her fingers could make me jump like that always
caused her to giggle.

   Of course her giggle was followed almost immediately by a bob of her
head and an explosion of sensations through my body as her lips closed
around me, sucking.  "Oh God, baby, that feels soooo good."

   She released me, smiling.  "You know, I rather enjoy it myself," she
said.  "It's magical, I mean, I could feel you movin' and throbbing in my
mouth.  You know how cool it is that I can do that?"

   "I guess I do," I said.  "I feel the same way when I do things to you. I
mean, I get a lot of enjoyment out of every bit of it, you know, you taste
good, and it feels so good on my tongue and my lips, and I love the smell,
and I can feel you quivering when I do things.  But at the end of it, I
give YOU pleasure."

   "Damn period," she said.  "You just reminded me of how good you've made
me feel.  Now stop talking and relax." She giggled.  "At least most of you,
anyway!" Her next giggle ended when her lips closed over the shaft of my
dick.  Her tongue and lips and teeth worked on me enthusiastically.  She
had the delightful habit of turning her face towards me and smiling as she
worked me over.  It wasn't long before I could feel the pressure starting
to build and my hip started jerking spasmodically all by themselves, out of
my control.

   She kept one hand around the shaft of my dick to make sure that my
uncontrolled thrusts didn't push too deeply into her mouth.  That was her
only restriction to my abandon.  One hand around my dick, the fingers of
her other hand tickling and massaging my scrotum, the suction of her hot
mouth and the action of her tongue and teeth drawing me ever closer to the
edge.

   "Nnnnnngghhhh, baby, it's close!"

   "Mmmm-hmmm," she hummed, not breaking her motion.

   That's all it took.  I was over the edge.  Hard spasms shook me as jet
after jet squirted from me.  I think the first squirt caught her by
surprise.  She took care of it, though, and all the subsequent spasms, her
hand and mouth, working together, urging me ever higher.  Finally, my hips
fell back to the bed.  She gave me one more delicious suck before letting
my dick fall out of her mouth.

   She looked at me, smiling.  "Now, do you realize that I just USED you?"

   "Just remember, little brown-haired girl, I get to use you as soon as
your period is over."

   She slid up beside me and cuddled against me, kissing me on the lips
unashamedly.  "You can use me as many times as you want, Sir." Her hand
idly played with my chest hair.  "I'm glad you're not smooth chested," she
said.  "I like this." Her hand wandered down my belly and toyed with my
dick.  "'Course, I like this too."

   She got up out of the bed.  "Let's get your pajamas on," she said. 
"Then we can go in the living room and watch TV or something."

   "Okay," I said.  It wasn't much of a struggle for me to get myself to
the sitting position.  She pulled a pajama top over my torso and then knelt
in front of me to pull the pajama pants on.  I still had to wear the ones
with the snaps up the legs, to accommodate my cast.  That made them pretty
easy for her to put on me.  That it was easy for her to get the pajama
bottoms on me had nothing to do with the fact that she took the time to
suck me into her mouth yet again.

   That action got a moan from me and a giggle from her.  "You know, baby,"
she said, laughing.  "I think I can drive you absolutely nuts doing that."

   "I have no doubt, sweetie," I said, tugging her up high enough to steal
another kiss.  After that I pulled myself to standing and stood there for a
few seconds without my crutches, just to get the feel of standing
unassisted.  She handed me my crutches and followed closely behind me as I
moved back to the living room.  It was nice to be able to move around on my
own, especially knowing that I never had to be alone again.  I sank onto
the sofa and Ronnie cuddled in against me.

   That was bliss.  I reached for the TV remote.

   "Nuh-uh, Dave.  "Music.  Something tranquil." I had just the thing.

   When that playlist ended, Ronni stirred.  "Move this to the bed?  I
still need to get a shower."

   "Okay," I said.  "One of these days we'll be able to shower together. 
Saves time."

   She smiled, extending a hand to help me stand.  I crutched back up the
hallway to my bedroom and lay down.  This time I got the TV remote to watch
something while she went through her evening routine.  She came out of the
bathroom looking refreshed and smelling delectable.

   I said so.  "Baby, whatever that is, that perfume, it works for you."

   "Mom gave it to me.  Dad likes something else on her." She smiled.

   "I really like it on you.  I never noticed it on your mom."

   She feigned horror.  "Uh, bud ...  you're not s'posed to be noticing how
my mom smells."

   "Just so you don't smell alike," I said.  "I can identify the way YOU
smell, and I start getting..."

   She didn't let me finish.  "I know what YOU get, buddy.  And I don't
want THAT bein' because of MOM'S perfume..."

   "Nope," I said.  "Gotta be my Ronni!"

   She crawled over me into bed, giving me a chance to caress her through
her nightshirt.  There was delight under that thin sheath of cotton.  She
had panties on, too, a concession to her period.  But that was a small
thing, no distraction at all as we set the sleep timer on the TV and turned
out the lights.

   Being able to turn myself in bed a little more freely with the new cast
made my night's sleep the best I'd had without pharmaceutical assistance
since the accident.  It also meant that I got to chase Ronni around the bed
when she got tired of lying with her face to me.  That was the position we
were in when we woke up in the morning, Ronni spooned back against me, and
I had a record case of morning wood, augmented by the delightfully feminine
ass pressed against me.

   When she woke up to my kisses on the back of her head, she recognized
what was poking her and wiggled that precious butt in response. 
"Mmmmmm-mmornin', babe," she said softly.  "Feels like ALL of you woke
up..."

   "Woke up with this angel in my arms..."

   She spun around to put sweet lips against mine.  A good-morning kiss. 
Perfect.  After it broke, I started to sit up, heeding the urge of a full
bladder.

   "You need help?" she asked.

   "Might, but let me try this on my own, first." Thankfully, I still had
the trapeze over the bed, allowing me to substitute upper body strength for
my reluctance to put more weight on my broken leg.  I stood.

   "Goody!" she squealed.  "You can stand all by yourself." She was only
being a LITTLE sarcastic.

   I 'clop-thumped' on my cast the few steps to the bathroom and the next
sound was a rushing stream as my bladder emptied.  I heard her giggle, then
the phone rang.

   "Dave's house.  This is Ronni." Pause.  "Oh, hi, Mom!" Pause.  "Yes,
ma'am!  We're fine!" Pause.  "No, I'm fixin' 'im Cheerios!" Giggle.  "Yes
ma'am!  We have a meeting with the attorney at nine-thirty." Pause.  "Okay,
Mom!  Love you too!" She turned to see me standing in the doorway between
the bedroom and the bathroom, most of my weight on my good leg.

   "Mom wanted to know if I needed help fixing you breakfast."

   "And you told her we were having Cheerios?"

   Giggle.  "Uh-huh!"

   "Does she know you're still a virgin?"

   "She did before I moved in with you," Ronni tittered.  Grin.  "B'sides,
we've done EVERYTHING BUT..." She tiptoed to kiss me on the nose.  "You
gonna go sit in your chair to eat?"

   "I think I'm gonna try the table, babe," I said.  I worked my way into a
dining room chair for the first time in weeks, maneuvering to give my cast
room to line up comfortably.

   Little smarty minced in with a bowl of Cheerios, giggling, placing them
in front of me.  She looped back through the kitchen and returned with her
own bowl.  "That's it on the Cheerios," she said.  "I need to make a list
and do some grocery shopping." She looked at me.  Are you up to that after
we see the lawyer?"

   "What're ya gonna do, put me in one of those cripple carts?" I laughed.

   "Could do that," she said.  "If you want?"

   "I'd rather not, baby," I said.  "And I'm not quite up to crutching
through the store just yet."

   "Then I'll drive you to the lawyer, then bring you back here.  D'you
mind if I do the shopping for us?"

   "You're shopping for 'US'?" I asked.  "Not me?"

   "Yeah, 'US', silly," she smiled.  "In three weeks this'll be MY house to
run, won't it?"

   "'S yours now, as far as I'm concerned.  You've taken good care of it so
far.  And me." She smiled.

   We finished our cereal and she collected the bowls.  This time when she
returned, she carried two mugs of steaming coffee, its rich aroma already
working gustatory magic.  She smiled.  "Wonderful part of our morning,
getting this time together, Dave," she said.

   Yes it is, baby," I said.  "Wanna go sit on the porch?  Oughtta be nice,
this time of the morning."

   She smiled gently at me, pure sweetness, and started getting up and
handing me my crutches, then following me out the front door.  She handed
me my mug as soon as I sat down, then she sat beside me.  I looked toward
my neighbors' house.  I saw George out on his porch also.  He raised his
own mug in salute, and I returned the gesture.

   It was indeed a pleasant morning.

   We had a nine-thirty appointment.  Had had several phone calls and a
visit by the family attorney, Dad's attorney.  Bob Seagrave.  He handled my
divorce, as much as divorces needed 'handling'.  Now he was going after the
driver who'd almost killed me.

   "What's this gonna look like?" I'd asked.  "I ran up a lot of medical
bills.  My insurance paid, but they want their money back if he's at
fault."

   "We'll get that, for sure.  Every stinkin' dime.  You had somebody stay
with you around the clock?"

   "Yeah.  My sister (little lie) and a neighbor."

   "Get you money for them, too.  Going rate for that service.  I'll get a
number." He scribbled on a note pad.  He said, "and then ...  there's that
other thing.w"

   "Pain and suffering?" I asked.

   "Yep.  Did some checking.  Boy's daddy's got bucks.  Heavily insured, of
course, but we could go after Daddy's pocket, too, since the kid's a minor.
Truck's in Daddy's name.  Got two ways to go."

   "Two ways?" I had asked.

   "Yeah," Bob said.  "We could go balls to the wall, see how much we could
get.  Might take a few years to get through the courts.  Appeals and all
that.  Or," he continued, "we throw THAT ball onto the court, and then see
what they want to settle out of court for.  That's the fast game.  I think
we'd do real well.  This is pretty much a gimme of a case.  It's not like
you're suing Wal-Mart.  These people are going to flop pretty quick to get
out of this without Daddy's name getting' in the news."

   So at nine-twenty-five Ronni was holding the door open to his office so
I could maneuver in on crutches.  As I headed for a chair in the waiting
room, Ronni went to the receptionist.  "I've with Mister David Johnson.  We
have a nine-thirty appointment." Very professional, she sounded.

   The receptionist noted the young creature before her.  She'd seen us
walk in.  "I'll let him know you're waiting," she said.  She walked back
into the hallway, then returned.  "Please, He's waiting on you.  Do you
need help, Mister Johnson?"

   "Nope, I got it, thanks!" I said, hoisting myself vertical with the aid
of my crutches.  Ronni stood expectantly by, if I needed assistance.

   Lawyer Bob met me at the door, then backed out of the way until I
maneuvered into a chair.

   I introduced Ronni.  "This is my fiancee', Miss Ronni Jameson.  I would
like her in on this mess."

   "Hello, Miss Ronni, ' Bob said.  "Of course, you SHOULD be part of this.
Please sit down."

   Ronni sat next to me, looking quite proper.

   "Okay," Bob began.  "We itemized your costs to date.  Looks like
$161,000 in medical.  That includes everything except payment for your
live-in care.  And we're figuring $250 a day.  Six weeks.  Home health
nurse is in that $161,000.  The defendant's not contesting that.  So it's
covered.  That brings us to 'pain and suffering'.  I proposed three
million."

   Ronni's jaw dropped.  I remembered the previous conversation with Bob,
so I knew this was the first offer.

   "and..." I prodded.

   "And I think we'd get that, in maybe five or six years.  And then that
would be a structured payout thing.  And interminable court session and
filing and refilling, etc.  You know.  We talked."

   I nodded.

   "But there's a counter-offer, and I'm pleasantly surprised."

   "Oh, I gotta hear this," I said.

   He smiled.  "Seven hundred thousand.  Flat.  We sign the release.  I get
thirty percent.  No, tell you what.  Make that twenty since I don't have to
go to court."

   I looked at him, then Ronni.  She was silent.  "You think that's a good
deal?"

   "I know you don't NEED the money, so if you wanted to do the full court
thing, we could.  I'm just sayin' this gets you paid off, puts some money
in the bank, and we put this behind us."

   I looked at Ronni.  "We don't need to answer today, I take it?"

   "Oh, no," he said.  "go home.  Talk it over.  Take a week.  Whatever."

   Ronni raised her hand.  "Mister Seagrave?  Is it permissible to do a
counter-offer?"

   He looked at her, smiling.  "Of course it is, Miss Ronni."

   "Counter 'em with a flat million." She cut her eyes at me.  My turn to
be astounded.  She continued.  "I sat in the front yard holding my bleeding
fiancĂ(C)e in my own lap.  Kinda makes it personal."

   I WAS astounded.

   "Miss Ronni, I appreciate your feelings, but this is a legal thing. 
Don't take it personal."

   "Oh, I'm not," she smiled.  "But somebody's chain needs jerkin' over
this."

   Bob chuckled.  "Tell you what.  That proposal will be in the mail today.
Uh ...  Dave, if she gets you another hundred grand or two..."

   "She'll be hard to live with," I said.

   "For college," Ronni said.

   "You didn't have to worry about college, baby," I said.  "I had you
covered."

   "But..." she smiled.  "And, No, Mister Seagrave.  I wasn't gonna spend a
hundred thousand on college."

   He looked amused.  "Whatever, Miss Ronni.  We'll see what they say."

   We left.  In my SUV, she looked at me.  "Wow!  Lotta money, honey," she
said.

   "More'n I ever had at once.  I got a pretty good savings, but that's a
chunk."

   "So..."

   "So, I was gonna take the first offer," I said.

   "Dad says you NEVER take the first offer.  And if they wanna get crappy,
we can pull back to let ol' Lawyer Bob go to work." She looked at me. 
"Dave, let's don't tell anyone about this.  I mean, nobody's business."

   "Sweetie, that's a good idea.  If we get a settlement, though, I'd like
to help your mom and dad out."

   "You don't have to, Dave.  They're doin' okay."

   "I know that, punkin," I said.  "but a little running room, maybe a
special vacation, whatever..."

   "If we help Mom an' Dad, we should help Deb an' Terry."

   "Let's not count our chickens before they hatch, Ron," I said.

   "I know, but while we were helpin' people..."

   "Just don't want word getting out.  Somebody in a group coming into a
bunch of money, that changes things.  Sometimes not in a GOOD way."

   "I can imagine," she said.  "We'll be careful."

   We walked back to our front door just a bit before eleven, one of us
considerably more graceful than the other.  I went to the bathroom and came
out, backed myself into my recliner and propped my crutches conveniently
near at hand.

   "Okay, I'm gonna go grocery shopping, babe," she said.  "Want me to fix
you a drink before I go?"

   "No, I'm good," I said.  "Buying Cheerios?"

   The little darlin' stuck her tongue out at me as she left.  Mental note
as I heard her backing my SUV out of the drive: Ronni needs a car.

   An hour later she was back, unloading bags.  One of them was from the
nearby Chinese restaurant.  "I got you Hot and Sour Soup that you like, and
an order each of Beef with Broccoli and Kung Pao Chicken."

   "Smart girl," I said.  The only time I'd been with Ronni in a Chinese
restaurant was on one or another of our many road trips to her school
functions.  It never occurred to me that she paid that much attention.  I
heard thumping as she stowed groceries.

   "You wanna eat in your chair?" she asked.

   "No, lemme get to the table," I said.  I trapezed myself out of the
recliner and made my way gingerly to the dining room table.

   She was setting out the cartons of steaming food, and we dove right in.

   "Where'd you get this idea?" I asked.

   She smiled.  "I thought you might get tired of the normal stuff, an' I
remember us havin' it comin' back from one of the volleyball tournaments."

   "I thought so."

   "I like it.  Just don't get to eat it much." She sighed.  "It's
something Dad doesn't like, so when we go out to eat..."

   "Gimme a couple of days and you and I can go out and eat.  Anything you
want.  I'm getting' better at getting' around.  We can go places."

   She smiled.  "I always thought about me an' you goin' places together.
How we'd walk in together, you and me.  When I was a little girl."

   I reached across the table to touch her fingertips.  "I'll be proud to
take, you, little one," I said.

   We finished lunch.  "I feel bad about you cleaning up our mess, baby," I
said.  She'd never complained in the several weeks she'd been caring for
me.

   "Oh, don't worry.  Mom taught me how to take care of the house, and
you're helpless right now.  I know you keep a clean house by yourself. 
Right now I'm doin' it.  When you're better, we'll be doin' it together. 
'Cuz it'll be OUR house."

   "I know, baby," I said.  "Now, about that wedding date.  What you think?
Middle of July works for you?

   Ronni squealed.  "Yes yes yes yes yes!"



   ------

   Chapter 10

   The next three weeks were a mix of happy and tedious.  The tedious part
was because, aside from the leg cast, I was feeling GOOD.  The ribs stopped
hurting.  The arm stopped hurting.  The head scar was still there, but my
hair was growing in where they'd shaved around the wound.  Ronni'd brought
me to my barber.

   "What'd'ya want me to do?" he asked.

   "Make me NOT look like I have the mange," I said.  "Just buzz everything
down and it'll all grow back the same length at the same time." I looked at
Ronni and winked.  She and I had talked about this move.

   The other big event was on the way home.  We stopped by the dealership
and picked her out a car.

   "I don't need a car, baby," she'd said when I first broached the
subject. "I can drive yours."

   "I'll be needing that when I go back to work, sweetness," I said.

   "And I'll be home, and it's summertime and I don't need to go anywhere
that I can't go with you when you get off work or with Mom or Dad."

   "You need a car so you can run the errands to keep your household
going."

   I won that discussion.  Wasn't always the case.

   The happy part?  That would be living with Ronni.  Finding that the
'happy' wasn't just something she managed in front of me on the rare times
we spent together, but that she was, like I thought before, even-tempered
and always happy.

   Our front yard sessions in the evening changed up slightly as I got a
bit more adventurous with my cast and crutches and we made our way up and
down the street, stopping to talk with the neighbors, in general just
getting on with life.

   Other part of getting on with life was that some of my co-workers made a
point of dropping by.  The first time one showed up after Ronni and I
decided to get married, I didn't hide that bit of news.  That guaranteed
that I'd get visits from several others, all curious to see Dave's
fiancee'. In each case, Ronni hung around long enough to be polite, joining
the conversation, then excusing herself to leave me a little time to talk
with my co-workers.  At least the male ones.

   Grady Higgins.  My supervisor.  "Dave, she's SEVENTEEN?"

   "Uh-huh." I answered.  "Literally, the 'girl next door'."

   "She's not..."

   "Pregnant?  Heavens, no, Grady.  Good girl.  Her dad and mom and me,
we've been friends since I moved here.  I've been around her that long."

   "That age thing?  Not a problem?" He asked.  "Don't mean to be nosy,
Dave, but you'n me been friends for a long time ...  I remember your
divorce..."

   "I remember it too, Grady.  Ronni has eyes.  She can see how old I am. I
can see how old she is.  We've spent a lot of time riding back an' forth to
tournaments an' sports things.  I know how she is.  She knows how I am."

   "Well if you're sure, Dave, then I'm happy for you."

   "I appreciate you bein' concerned, buddy."

   I'm sure that Grady got asked the question by our staff admin clerk. 
She came by too, all hundred and ninety pounds of her, to visit and bring
me a big tray of home-made cookies.  Ronni DIDN'T leave while she was
there. She stayed beside me, little touches showing I was HER possession.
Sandra was happily married, but Ronni didn't know that until after Sandra
left.

   "You work with HER?" Ronni asked.  She was trying to hide her concern.

   "Yep.  She's our administrator." I smiled.

   "Did you ever ...  you an' her..."

   "Sandra?  No, baby."

   "'Cuz she's fat?"

   "Nope.  Fat has nothing to do with it.  She's married.  And she never
acted the least bit interested, and after what I went through when my wife
ran around on me, I would NEVER do that to another human being." I sighed.
"Besides, you're prettier."

   "I'm NOT pretty, Dave."

   "Veronica Jameson, you are a cutie.  I adore you."

   She smiled.  Bent over and kissed me.  Right there on the front porch.

   Sex?  We played.  I ate her.  She ate me.  We kissed and fondled and
rubbed.  I thought several times that we were going to cross that line to
intercourse, but Ronni remained true to her word.  Virgin.

   After one session, we were lying, entangled, me wishing I didn't have
the cast on my leg, but glowing because we'd pushed each other over the
brink with oral pleasures.

   "Dave," she said.  "I WANTED to, you know, don't you?"

   "Yes, my Ronni," I said.

   "YOU wanted to, huh?" she looked into my eyes, giving me more time to
ponder the kaleidoscope that was so inadequately described as 'brown'.

   "I want every bit of you, baby," I said.  "But I can wait."

   "Another week and a half?" she smiled.  "I have a period comin' next
week.  And after that, we're goin' to get married, and then..."

   "You'll be my Ronni forever?"

   Giggle.  "Baby, I'm THAT now.  Have been for years."

   She walked with me as I clumped my way into the jewelers.  "Just a
wedding band, Dave.  One for me.  One for you." The salesman was a little
taken aback by the almost forty year old guy with the seventeen year old
tied to his arm, buying wedding bands.  He tried to hide it.  Didn't do
very well.  We selected two simple bands and got our sizes checked and were
told to return in a couple of days to pick them up.

   We were well into July and Ronni was getting excited.  So was I.  So was
the neighborhood.

   Finally the day came for THE doctor visit.  I got into a pair of
baggy-legged shorts with Ronni's help and off we went to the clinic.  I was
given the once-over.

   "Any unusual pain?"

   "No."

   His assistants removed the cast.  More poking and prodding.  A couple of
X-rays.  He came back into the examination room.

   "Stand," he said.  "Carefully."

   I stood, feeling the leg.  I shifted my weight.  Felt good.  I said so.

   "Don't kill yourself.  If you're gonna walk or ride a bike or something
on your own, I won't set you up for physical therapy.

   I looked at Ronni.  "We already walk," she said.  "We'll REALLY walk
now."

   I got the standard list of warnings and precautions, and I WALKED out of
the office, holding Ronni's hand, into the July sunlight.

   "You drive," I told her.  "Until I get used to that foot and leg working
again."

   It was Wednesday.  Saturday was the DAY.

   My new-found freedom, no more cast, ALMOST let Ronni and me get carried
away.  Somewhere in the pink mists, though, she maintained enough blood
flow to HER brain to regain control at the last minute.  Saturday morning
she was still a virgin.

   At one o'clock we stood in front of a happy, informal group of friends
and neighbors and Reverend Paul led us through a time-honored ritual of
vows.  We exchanged rings and kisses and turned to face the assembly.

   "Brothers and sisters," the preacher said, "Let me present Mister Dave
Johnson and his wife, Mizzus Ronni Johnson.  He smiled broadly.  But not as
big as my Ronni.

   Rena led a group of ladies in producing tears.

   Informal ...  the reception was a family affair, made more so by the
participation of our friends and neighbors.  There was a cake, and there
was a big cooler of beer and a good selection of finger foods, and I
thought I was going to need therapy on my elbow from all the hands I shook.
I saw my sweet young bride working her way towards me.

   "Folks," I announced, "Ronni an' I have a place to be going..." I shook
Alex's hand, then Terry's, and collected hugs and kisses from Rena and Deb,
and we left.

   We had plans.  Cruise.  It was hurricane season.  That kept us out of
the Caribbean.  We flew to Vancouver.

   Ronni was touchie-feelie the whole trip.  And we had a night in a hotel
before embarking on our cruise.

   We were in a ROOM.  Together.  She wrapped me in her arms.  I
reciprocated.  She looked into my eyes.

   "We saved some stuff." She smiled.

   She was right.  I had touched every inch of her body, and she had
explored mine, and we were in the room together and there was something
that we needed to share for the first time.

   I gently stripped her of her traveling clothes, what I called her 'Ronni
uniform': jeans and a blouse, and her fingers didn't fumble as she peeled
my own clothes off and we stood in front of each other completely nude. 
That wasn't the first time.  The first time was yet to come as we turned
back the covers on the king-sized bed.
My Ronni.  Kneeling in the middle, waiting for me.  I joined her.  I had
anticipated tender foreplay and loving.  What I got was Ronni kissing me
deeply, fondling me as I touched her pussy, finding it almost dripping with

juice in expectation.

   "Lay down, baby," she said.  "It's time for US!"

   She knew what she wanted.  She'd been astride me before, and she'd
rubbed that sweet pussy on my dick before, even to the point of orgasm. 
But it was time for penetration.

   "Eager" falls short of describing her expression.  I'd explored that
sweet pussy with my lips and tongue and fingers and I knew that she
retained just the barest vestiges of a hymen.  She rose up off me and her
hand reached between her legs to guide my rigid dick into position as my
own hands relished the curves of her waist and ass and thighs.

   "Dave, I love you," she said.  The head of my dick was at the entrance
of her pusy.  She started pushing downward.  I felt the head encounter
delicious wet tightness as it pushed its way into a place no man had ever
been.  Her brown eyes were sparkling.  She was biting her bottom lip,
concentrating.  Her mouth came open.

   "Ahhh!" she uttered.  Another push.  Her pubic arch hit mine.  She
halted her effort.  Smiled.  Eased down into my arms.  "Dave, we're ... 
mated."

   I stroked her sassy brown bob.  "Yes, little one, we are.  I will never
do this with another woman."

   "You'll be the ONLY man that's ever there, Dave," she said.  She gave a
little wiggle.  "It feels gooood."

   "I was hoping you liked it.  YOU feel good."

   She moved a bit more, experimenting, finding that some of our sex play
from before was almost a direct translation to what she NEEDED right now,
and her athletic hips and legs went to work.  I loved the sensation.  Her
movements found the right configuration and she started a rhythm.  the
bottom lip was pulled behind white teeth as her concentration returned,
this time for a wholly different reason.

   My own hips couldn't remain immobile under this stimulation.  I started
pumping upward into her.  Her eyes told me that she not only noticed this,
but that she approved and our mutual motions became more frantic,
insistent.

   "Baby," she gasped.  "My first time.  Nnnnghhhh.  It's not s'pose ta be
THIS GOOD!"

   "Oh, yes, Ronni doll," I answered.  "Ohgod..."

   "Hnnnghhhh, ohgodDave ...  Ohhhhh, yessssss..." She rode me hard.  I
tried.  I tried to hold off for her, but it was too much...

   "RonniBaby ...  Dolllll, I'm ...  It's ...  Comingggggg!!!!" I thrust my
hips up, driving into her center.

   Her eyes squinched shut.  She was sucking her breath in through flared
nostrils.  "Ggggnnnnnnnnghhhhhh!  YES!" That last utterance was the reason
good hotels had soundproof walls.

   The walls of her virgin pussy clamped in spasmodic ripples around my
surging shaft as I jetted into her.  My own thrusts dwindled and she
collapsed into my waiting arms.  I held her, kissing her brown hair.

   "Little one, I love you," I said.

   When she raised her face off my chest, tears were coursing down her
cheeks.  "Oh, Dave, you don't know how many night and days I dreamed of
being here..."

   "Me too, little brown-haired girl.  And here we are."

   Her speech faculties had not yet returned.  She buried her face in my
chest and purred.  Finally, she said, "Was I ...  Was it okay?"

   "Okay?  Past okay, baby.  Better that I dared to dream.  You're
everything I dreamed of, and more."

   She held her hand up, looking at her ring.  "Married, Dave!  We're
REALLY married!" She entwined legs and arms around me, kissing me.  That
was wonderful, and we kissed and caressed and played until she announced
with a giggle, "Baby, it's gettin' hard again..."

   "What should we do about that?" I smiled.

   She smiled back, kissing me.  I had my hands grasping her waist.

   "It's yours, little one, for whatever use you might find for it."

   I was hard, and she was still oozing our combined juices and she slid me
inside her in one slick motion, my hard dick pushing aside the tight walls
of her pussy.

   "Ohhhhhh, that feels soooo good," she said.  "No wonder I hear Mom from
the other end of the house," she giggled.  "We made love.  Me an' you.  An'
I LOVED it!  An' now you're in me again!"

   The second time was slower as we gazing into each other's eyes,
exchanging sweet words, totally enraptured by our coupling.  We started out
repeating her initial position astraddle me, but then she lay in my arms
and tugged for me to roll atop her.  I did, finding the real gift of her
long athletic legs as she wrapped them around mine, trapping me inside her.
Like I needed to be trapped.

   I brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek.  "You are so incredibly
wonderful, Ronni.  How did I ever live next door to you without just
carrying you off?"

   She smiled.  "I know ...  It would've killed Mom an' Dad, but there were
times that I so much WANTED us to be havin' a little fence-hoppin' thing
going ...  an' when we were drivin' back from one of my tournaments, an' it
was just you an' me, I wanted so much to just put my arms aroun' you an'
kiss you an' let things just happen ...  and she gave her hips a happy
wiggle.

   I stroked in and out of her, urged by her encouragement, feeling her
insistent movements meeting my thrusts.

   "I'm soooo wet, baby," she giggled, "an' you're making it worse.  I LOVE
it!" from joyous play with us coupled together, experimenting with angles
and movements, we moved gradually on into rapture, where instinct took
precedence over conversation and our bodies took over.  She squealed
through another orgasm and I unloaded my second load of semen for the day
into her hot, eager pussy.

   Sure, in the several weeks since Ronni and I admitted our love for each
other, we'd played with each other.  Sex.  A lot.  Neither of us was a
stranger to an orgasm at the hands or mouth of the other.  But after we'd
consummated our marriage, it was like I inherited a new Ronni, an
insatiable little thing who seemed to LIVE for us to be entwined together,
connected by our genitals.  Our honeymoon cruise was wonderful.  We got out
of the cabin often enough to see the glorious scenery of the Inside
Passage, but I'm afraid we weren't much for social interaction.  I laughed
to myself after one dinner as we left the dining room, Ronni towing me by
one hand through the passageway to our cabin.

   "Dessert!" she said.  And what I ate was better than the finest of meals
in a royal banquet hall.

   I'm sure I WOULD have initiated lovemaking, but I never got a chance to.
How we ended up as we essentially were left immobilized after
earth-shattering orgasms, that would have been a sight.  One session had us
in luxurious sixty-nine, licking, sucking, nibbling each other to coming.

   The wonderful inactivity in the afterglow slid into an afternoon nap.  I
awoke a bit later with a long, sleek leg across my chest.  I dared not move
it, but I turned my face to put her thigh in a more comfortable position
and found a pink pussy slightly gapped open.  My nostrils flared as I
breathed in the scent of her sexuality, and I moved my face just slightly
closer, tasting the drying juices.

   I heard a purr as she stirred, semi-waking, unconsciously wiggling
herself closer to the pleasant feel.  When she was fully wakened, she was
already leaking a fresh dose of sweetly musky liquid.  I felt warm fingers
curl around my dick, causing it to go from semi-hard to fully erect.

   "What a way to wake up, baby," she purred.  And her mouth sucked me in.

   I rolled onto my back, carrying her back atop me and we ate each other.
Her face lifted clear of my dick and she said, "This is good, but I want
this in me, baby..."

   "I want it wherever YOU want it, sweetness," I said.  It was true.  I
wanted soooo badly to have Ronni make me come again, and I wanted to enjoy
the rapturous expression as she came for me.

   She started to move, but I captured her butt with my hands and gave her
pussy one last, sucking lick before letting her up.  This time we sat on
the bed, me cross-legged, her in my lap, impaled on my dick, her legs
wrapped around me, our mouths locked together as firmly as my dick in her
pussy had our lower ends coupled.

   I ran my hands over her short, sassy hair.  Every time our lips parted,
I saw those eyes, alive, twinkling, loving, a smile on her face.  This was
sex, mating for the pure joy of sharing one another's bodies in the most
intimate, caring of fashions and we started out smiling and giggling and
verbal, talking to each other in cute, teasing, loving language, and as was
the usual case, sometime during the giggling and cooing, our rocking
together pushed us into serious copulation.

   From our cross-legged intertwining, it was an easy move for her to push
me onto my back and straddle me, where Ronni proceeded to bring her girlish
athleticism into play, pounding and rubbing her pussy almost violently on
my rod, intent on HER own orgasm, and if Dave was going to get one, he
needed to work it into HER pattern.

   Was easily done, though.  When I opened my eyes, I saw a young, fit
body, smallish titties succumbing to the violent action of their owner by
giving me the slightest and sexiest of jiggles.  When I looked downward,
where her pubic mound was mashing into mine, when she rose, I saw my shaft
disappearing in between the turgid lips of her shaved and very lovely
pussy.

   Her hands were on my chest and every now and then, whether by reflex,
instinct or conscious design, she tweaked my nipples.  She tossed her head
back, clearing flaring hair from her face and opening her mouth.  "Ahhhhhh,
Daaaaave!  It's ...  I'm ...  Nnnnnngghhhhh!  Coming!"

   And that was time for me to release.  Her final, diminishing spasms
worked with a few of my own thrusts and I released my load deep into her.

   "Ahhhhhhh!  IFEELIT!  Baaabyyyyyy!"I hissed through clenched teeth.  The
'it' I felt was the rippling of her pussy walls.

   In the sweet silence afterward, we savored each other, the air heavy
with the smell of hot, musky sex.  She put her fingers on my cheek and
turned my face to hers, gently kissing me.

   "Dave, she said, "Eat me.  Suck the juice out of me.  Make me come
again."

   The 'juice' in question was oozing out of her pussy as only the head of
my softening dick remained lightly gripped by her plump pussy lips.

   "Come up here," I said.  "Straddle my face."

   I thought she'd simply move straight up my torso, but instead, the swung
herself around to a sixty-nine, presenting me with a feast of milky and
clear secretions.  I pulled her pussy down on my face and started partaking
of the feast.

   She sucked in a short, sharp breath.  "Yes!  THAT'S what I want.  Eat me
out." She lowered her face toward my satiated member and sucked the whole
soft thing into her mouth, washing it with her tongue.  Similar activity
insured my balls were freed from the slick film of our mutual ecstasy.  And
it ended with her shuddering through another orgasm.

   She lay back, mouth slightly open, staring at the ceiling.

   "Dave, baby," she said, "did you..." she paused, "Is it good for you..."

   "Ronni," I said, "there were times that I hated myself for thinking
about what it would be like to make love with you, but I thought about it
anyway.  The truth, the reality, it's better than I imagined."

   "You were married before..." she sighed.

   We'd had this conversation before, about my marriage, but not the sexual
aspect of it.  I closed my eyes, remembering my first wife, and yes, we had
good sex.  But Ronni ...  oh, god, wonderful, bright, happy, enthusiastic
Ronni.  "Baby, ' I said, "I can erase ALL that.  THIS is better.  YOU are.
NOTHING there compares with YOU.  You're prettier.  You're smarter.  You
make me happier.  I love you MORE, HARDER, MORE passionately ...  And in
YOUR arms I can look into forever..."

   She rolled onto her side, facing me.  Smothered me, showered me with
little kisses.

   "Like THAT," I smiled.  "You just DO things that melt me."

   "Do I wanna do it too much, baby?" she asked, amid another flurry of
kisses.

   "No, little one.  I wish I stayed hard ALL day and ALL night.  I'd never
be ...  I'd ALWAYS be inside of you."

   She smiled a little smile.  "We can do that," she said, "if I get to
define 'inside'." She read the questioning look on my face.

   "Like this," she giggled, bending down to take my soft dick in her
mouth, again.  She gave me a loving suck then popped back up.  "Just 'cuz
we're doin' this, it doesn't HAVE to be 'til we come, you know ...  I love
when you just touch me an' lick me down there.

   "What about here," I asked, lowering my face to suck in a pert nipple.

   Giggle.  "That too!" she wiggled under the stimulation.  "'Course, you
like that, too!" getting into position to mutually suckle each other's
nipples as only a short glide to full sixty-nine, because, as my sweet
Ronni said, "It's fun!  Feels good, just like that.  Don't have to COME
ever' time." But SHE came.

   Early evening came and we wandered down to partake of the dinner buffet,
then spent a bit of time at the rail watching the forested coastline pass
by.

   Our week was soon, too soon, over and we winged our way back home.

   Walking into OUR house, I saw that somebody'd given me and my new wife a
wonderful present: the place, though normally pretty clean, was immaculate,
the air sweet with the scent of bowls of potpourri, the bed changed and the
covers turned back.

   Ronni giggled.  "This has got "Mom" written all over it.  She picked up
the phone and dialed.

   "Hi, Mom!" she said.  "Looks like elves have come in and cleaned our
house." Pause.  "Uh-huh." Pause.  "Okay, we'll come over for dinner."
Pause. "I KNOW it's only three o'clock right now." Giggle.  "Gives us a
couple of ...  hours..." giggle.  "Love ya, Mom!  Bye!"

   "You just told your mom that we're gonna spend two hours in bed before
dinner?"

   Ronni giggled some more.  "And we ARE.  I haven't had my 'Dave' time
since we left the hotel this morning.  And the house?  It was Mom an' YOUR
sister..." She looked at the pristine sheets on the bed.  "We did LOT of
stuff on our bed, Dave," she smiled.  But not THE thing..." She started
unbuttoning her blouse.  "I think we need to initiate it."

   I was already shucking my clothing.  She was lounging back on the bed,
waiting for me.  I crawled in the bed, already hard, a fact that she noted
with another little giggle.  Her outstretched arms signaled how she wanted
this to proceed.  I knelt between those long, firm legs, bent forward and
kissed her, then each of her perky breasts in turn.  I looked down between
her legs past her plump mound and saw her pussy lips gaping open,
glistening in expectation.

   "I love you, Dave."

   "I love you, Ronni.  My perfect little Ronni." 'Plain' Ronni had
disappeared soooo many weeks ago ...  I eased down, not even venturing a
hand to guide me into her.  A couple of flexes of my hips dragged my
engorged head between her lips, coating it with hot, slick juice.  The
tiniest wiggle put the head of it into her opening and her hips rose,
enveloping me.

   "MmmmmmDave ...  lay down on me.  Possess me." We made soft, sweet love,
our orgasms coming in quick succession.

   In the waning glow, we snuggled.  She turned her sweet face to me.  "NOW
it's OUR house.

   ------ The End ------ Posted: 2011-10-29 Last Modified: 2011-12-16 /
09:56:09 pm
------ http://storiesonline.net/
   ------