It was a nice day outside, so I decided to go for a run. Just as I was getting into my rhythm, it occurred to me that everything was unusually grey for such a sunny day. Looking into the sky, I found there was a very strange cloud over me that had me stopping in my tracks to get a better look. It was perfectly stationary but seemed to blow like a flag in the wind; only it blew in all directions at the same time—as if the source of the wind was from the center of the cloud. Even more strange, this ‘cloud’ didn’t cast a shadow. Rather, it seemed to be a light source; emanating a bright, white light. As I tried to figure out what I was looking at, a voice next to me said, “That’s Momma.” Suddenly, the grey hues on everything made sense.
I looked down and Katie was once again by my side. Her sundress was no longer yellow; it was a nearly blinding white. For the first time ever, I saw Katie smile. She was heartbreakingly adorable.
I asked, “Why does your Mom appear like this instead of like you?”
Katie shrugged and said, “I don’t know what you mean. She looks to me like she always has. What does she look like to you?”
I explained what I saw and asked, “What do you think that means?”
Katie said, “I don’t know. Maybe it is just up to you to decide what it means—like the kids on the playground?”
I nodded and asked, “Did you decide what that meant?”
She said, “Yeah, I figured it out. Those were the voices of all the kids that are going to be spared—at the intersection. Some of them would have died there; others are only going to be born because their Momma or Daddy aren’t going to get hurt there.”
I asked, “Yeah? You really think so?”
Katie nodded and said, “That’s what Momma says, too.”
I responded, “Well, that certainly is a nice thought; I hope you’re right.”
She replied simply, “We are.” Then she said, “I’ll see you later, David”
I asked, “You need to go for now?”
She looked up at me and said with a smile as if I’d made a joke, “No, silly: you do!”
I woke up not more than ten seconds before my alarm clock went off. My hand smacked the beeping device, silencing it for the next 24 hours.
It was still too early to call Cherry; I knew she would still be sleeping. So I just got myself ready for the day and went in to the firehouse for the first time in what seemed like ages.
It’s funny the little things you ‘almost’ forget when you’ve been gone for a while—like the echo inside the bays where the trucks are kept or the smell of the flash gear that protects your head in a fire. I was soaking in the ambiance, glad to be back when an all too familiar voice behind me broke me out of my trance.
“Welcome back. Now get to work,” Chief said.
Turning around, I said, “Hey Chief; it’s good to be back.”
He took one look at my face and said, “You get married or something?”
I laughed and said, “No—Not yet anyway!”
He studied me for a second and said, “But you plan to. Don’t you?” The question was more of statement.
I said, “Eventually. Timing isn’t good right now—but yeah: I’m going to ask her eventually.”
“What’s her name again? Cherry?”
I confirmed with a nod and said, “Yeah; Cherry.”
He asked, “You have that talk with her yet?”
I shook my head and said, “With this girl, it won’t be necessary, Chief”
Getting really serious, he said, “David—Don’t be an idiot! You’d better tell her how hard it can be to be the wife of a fireman! Every time you are on the job and she hears a siren, she’s going to be afraid for your life and that puts a lot of strain on her—and the marriage. Few women can take that for long.”
Again I shook my head and replied, “That won’t matter, Chief.”
He said, “What: you think because you two are in love that will be enough? Trust me David, the honeymoon ends eventually. When she is constantly living in fear—not knowing what danger you might be in—that stress is going to get to her and it will end up ripping you two apart! I know because it happened to me.”
I looked at Chief a bit surprised because he never shared his personal life (as far as I knew). His advice always came in the form of what he’d seen happen to others; never to himself.
Chief said, “Yeah: that’s right—I was married before—when I was a young kid like yourself. But my wife left me because she couldn’t take the stress. Just like I’m telling you now. I got a kid that I never saw except a few times a year because my wife moved just far enough away to make sure of it. Then it’s time for college and—‘forget about it’… You want that to happen to you?”
I said, “There is no chance of that happening to me, Chief.”
“What makes you think so?” he asked.
I said, “Because: if she gets to that point, I’ll quit this line of work and find something else. And I’ll be happy to do that for her.”
He nearly choked with laughter and said, “Shit, son: you went and got your ass kicked by cupid!”
I grinned and said, “Maybe I did, Chief; maybe I did.”
Chief turned red with laughter as he walked away while saying, “Get to work, lover-boy!”
It was clear that the next few days (at a minimum) were going to be filled with jokes directed my way about my love life. And that thought didn’t bother me in the least: I knew what I had with Cherry and the jokes would be worth it. I found a few of the other guys and Brian was the first to notice me and welcome me back. They asked if I’d done anything ‘interesting’ while I was taking my time off and I kept things a bit ‘cryptic’ and said that I had kept myself busy. They smiled knowingly at me while nodding slightly and I was trying to figure out what they knew.
Garry finally said to me, “Oh, come on! We know it was you!”
“What was me?” I asked, unsure of what they could know about. The night of ‘naked capture the flag’ was all that was coming to mind and that was going to be pretty embarrassing if they found out about it.
Brian said, “In the paper! It was you, right? With the fix for the intersection?”
Shaking the night of nakedness out of my head, I said, “Oh! Yeah! Yeah, that was me.”
They teased me about taking night courses in civil engineering on the sly while trying to break into politics—generally ‘busting my balls’ to make up for lost time while I was away. After joking around for a bit, Garry switched the subject to something that had been going on at the station house.
Garry said, “There’s a guy that’s been coming around every few days looking for you.”
My brow wrinkled in puzzlement and I asked, “Looking for me? What guy?”
Brian said, “He won’t say who he is. He just keeps asking for you—showed up last Monday; asked for David.”
Garry said, “We told him you weren’t here—offered to give you a message—he just said he’d be back.”
Clueless, I just shook my head while trying to figure it out.
Brian asked, “Do you have unpaid parking tickets or something? Maybe he’s trying to serve you a summons!”
Garry offered, “Or, maybe he’s wondering why you never called him the next morning!”
Brian and Garry were busting at the gut with laughter; I just said as dry as possible, “You guys are hilarious.” Truthfully, the joke was pretty damn funny and it took all I had not to laugh with them. After a few more minutes of jokes at my expense, we all found something to do and went to work.
It was just after lunch and I was outside doing some maintenance checks on a few fire hoses when a voice came from behind me; interrupting my train of thought.
“Are you David?” he asked.
I said, “That’s me,” as I turned while standing to face the man.
He asked, “Are you David Mann?”
“That’s right; what can I do for you?” I asked. I was starting to wonder if I was about to be served to appear or arrested. But then I decided both seemed unlikely; he didn’t quite fit the part. He was a big enough guy; dressed nice, but he looked like hell—like he hadn’t slept in weeks.
He put out his hand while making his introduction, saying, “My name is Bill—Bill Phelps.”
I shook Bill’s hand and said, “Nice to meet you,” while waiting for him to get to what brought him here.
Bill was looking for the right words to explain what he wanted before he just stated talking. “The nurse said I just missed you. I was so upset that she was alone before…” his words trailed off as his eyes became glassy. “But she says she wasn’t alone: that you were with her.”
I said, “You are Katie’s Dad. I’m so sorry for your loss. I did everything I could…”
He stopped me, saying, “I know you did. Believe me: I know. I tried to find you sooner, but the nurse wouldn’t give me any information about you.”
I thought (but didn’t say) ‘she clearly gave you my name…’ I just said, “Yeah, they can’t by law, I think.”
Bill seemed to hesitate to go on but I didn’t push him to continue. I knew he was surely still grieving over the loss of his wife and daughter and perhaps just needed to talk to me to work through some of those thoughts. He was having a hard time looking me in the face and kept gazing towards the ground while shifting his weight nervously.
Finally he spoke, “You’re going to think I’m crazy; maybe I am…” He glanced at me momentarily before continuing, “She told me to come find you—that you’d be here.”
I said, “So the nurse did tell you my name and where I work? That’s ok: I actually don’t mind…”
Bill interrupted, “No; not the nurse—She wouldn’t tell me anything.”
Confused, I asked, “Who told you…?”
Bill said weakly, “Katie.”
Bill said, “It sounds insane: I know. But my daughter has been telling me in my dreams every night to come and find you. She told me your name; that you work here.”
I was in complete disbelief and asked Bill, “What is this? Is this some kind of joke? Who are you, really?”
Bill said, “Believe me: This is no joke—It would be easier if it was! You have no idea how much I hoped that, when I showed up here the first time, the guys here would tell me they never heard of any ‘David Mann’. When they confirmed you worked here I cried all of the way home.”
My head was swimming and I felt like I needed to sit down. Bill wasn’t giving me time to process what he was telling me and continued to tell me that Katie wanted him to find me and thank me ‘in person’ on her behalf for staying with her as I had promised. He finished talking and all I could do was stare at him in silence and disbelief.
Logical explanations began to come to me. Any number of nurses or doctors at the hospital could have told him my name and where I worked. The guys here at the station could have told him about me staying with Katie—Or if he found the crew that worked the life flight, they could have told him the same thing. Then, a very logical (and probable) explanation came to mind.
I said, “I think maybe you overheard people at the hospital talking about what happened.” He shook his head and I continued, “You were overwhelmed with grief at the time and their words didn’t register to you at that time. But those words were heard; if only subconsciously. When you slept, they came out of your subconscious and that’s how you knew my name. That’s how you found me.”
Bill thought for a second and said, “No, I don’t think that’s it. I mean, it sounds good, but there is more to it than that.”
I was closing my mind to the idea and said, “That’s got to be the answer, Bill. I’m sorry: I wish it was possible, but…”
He cut me off saying, “Katie told me to tell you something if you didn’t believe me. I’m not sure I understand this, but she told me to tell you that she likes cherries? I don’t get that because her favorite flavor was always strawberry.”
I thought for a second and asked, “Do you mean Cherry—as in my girlfriend, Cherry?”
Bill said, “Maybe; I don’t know.”
I was ready to kick the ass of whoever told a stranger about my Cherry, but then Bill said, “There was one more thing she told me to tell you, but it makes no sense at all to me.”
On the verge on anger, I asked, “What’s that?”
He said, “She said to tell you that she’s glad she is alone on the playground. Does that mean anything to you?”
His question quickly became rhetorical when he saw my eyes become as glassy as his. I had told no one about the dream of Katie and me on the playground with the voices of the other kids that were not there. Only I knew what it meant (at least to Katie). A tear pooled and ran down my face and I irrationally tried to quickly wipe it away before he saw it. It was unlikely that he saw my own tear as his eyes were already flooding; he didn’t even try to hide it.
We both seemed to realize at the same time that we were two guys blubbering in front of a fire house in broad daylight and composed ourselves accordingly. After taking a deep breath, I told Bill about my dreams of Katie—specifically about the playground and what she said it meant to her. He said that he wasn’t surprised when he saw last Friday’s paper headline because Katie had told him I was working on fixing the intersection. The longer we talked, the more inescapable the implications became.
I said, “Listen…Bill… I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but can we keep this conversation between us? At least for now, anyway. This is a lot for me to process and I don’t want anyone thinking I’ve lost my mind or calling me crazy. You know?”
Bill asked, “You think I want to tell anyone about this?! I didn’t even want to talk to you about it! But she asked me to so—you know—I had to.”
I nodded in understanding and said, “Can I give you my number? If you need to talk or want to share anything that happens or have questions that I might be able to answer…”
He said, “Yeah, of course!”
Bill gave me his number also and commented that having this dialogue gave him (in a small way) part of his daughter back. Knowing that this was evidently more than just vivid dreams and that she had been able to communicate with us was not something a father could put a dollar value on. I told Bill that I would tell him any time I had a dream about Katie; no matter how insignificant it seemed to me. He appreciated the offer and said he would do the same.
We shook hands again before Bill went on his way; each of us promised to keep in touch. His number was programmed in my phone, even before I continued the maintenance on the fire hoses.
I finished my tasking and was re-stowing the gear when one of the guys asked me what Bill wanted. I told him who he was and said he only wanted to thank me for trying to help his daughter; nothing more. That explanation was apparently sufficient and the subject was never brought up again.
A few fairly uneventful days later, I got off work and found I had a package receipt in the mail. I was certainly not expecting a package, but went to pick it up all the same. In route to the post office, I called Cherry to ask her if she sent me something, but she said that she had not. The postal clerk handed me a some-what small sized box and the mystery only grew. The return address seemed a little familiar, but I didn’t give it a lot of thought. Once back at my apartment, I opened the box and was so stunned I had to call Cherry and tell her what I was looking at.
I said, “Babe! You will never guess what I just received in the mail.”
She asked, “In the package? What is it?”
I said, “It’s a box of clothes!”
Cherry was confused and asked, “Did you order them on line and forget about them or something?”
I said, “No, they aren’t new clothes—they are definitely used!”
Still not putting the pieces together she asked, “Why would someone send you used clothes?”
Spelling it out for her, I said, “Probably because they belong to us.”
I said, “It’s our clothes! As in: OUR clothes from the truck yard!”
She gasped and exclaimed, “WHAT?!”
Finding a short note, I read it out loud, “Best Regards, Jim.” Then I said, “Holy shit! You remember the guy I was talking to at the football game?”
I said, “He’s the one! He took our clothes and the sneaky bastard sent them to me!”
She asked, “How’d he get your address? How did he even know we were there?”
I said, “He works as a guard there. But he said he wasn’t working that night and the guy that was working was always sleeping on the job. But I guess he came in for some reason and spotted us. He must have found my driver’s license and copied my address from there.”
Cherry said, “Oh, he’s a dead man if he comes back to another game!”
I said, “No, let it go: I think I get why he did it. He was messing with me…”
I reminded her about the ‘sucker’s bet’ he made with me and how he was under the impression that night was to be our first date. If he saw us playing naked in the dark, he surely knew it was not our first date (and therefore I swindled him on the bet). Taking our clothes was just ‘payback’ and sending them was his way of saying ‘now you know that I know’.
“Well played, Jim; well played.”
The next time I saw Jim at a game, I just stared at him for a few seconds as he gave me a half nod of his head while trying to keep from smiling.
Jim asked, “So, how was your ‘first date’?”
Without needing to rehash the events, I said while trying to hide my own smile, “Yeah. You won that round.”
He laughed and asked, “How’d you two get home?”
I said, “How do you think? Naked; that’s how.”
Jim laughed again and gave a much less than sincere apology, but it was clear that he was pleased with himself. What was funny was I couldn’t even be mad. I’d have done the same thing in his shoes and I knew it.
By the end of that first week back at work, I was already back into the swing of things around the station house. We went out on calls regularly and I had no problems keeping my head in the game. In fact, life in all aspects seemed to settle back into a normal routine. I would work my shifts as per usual and when I was off, I’d find a way to be with Cherry—which meant we were doing a lot of sneaking around. It didn’t always include Making Love or having sex; sometimes we were just hanging out (but usually that was due to Cherry being fertile at that time). Olivia was talking about going away to college and, since we wouldn’t be able to use her as a ‘cover story’, it became clear that Cherry was going to have to start driving to make getting together more feasible. So, I started teaching her to drive.
Once she had her license, it became easy for us to spend time together. But since she was still in school, she was still hiding the truth from her Mom. That all came to a head when Cherry was about three months away from graduating. She was tired of being denied to date and ended up in a heated discussion with her Mom because of it.
Cherry asked her mom, “Why can’t I date just because I’m in school?”
Her mom gave the same answer as always, “Because, your grades would start to suffer for it and I’m not going to let you do that to yourself.”
Cherry said, “So, you’re saying you want my grades to stay like they are now? That’s why I can’t date?”
She replied, “Yes; exactly. You’ve been getting almost all A’s throughout high school and you are in the top ten percent of your class! You want to mess that up now because of a boy?”
Cherry said (with no small amount of sass), “Breaking news, Mom: I’ve been dating someone for a while now! And guess what! My grades didn’t change!”
That line nearly sent her Mom into a verbal frenzy, the bottom line being it was her house and, therefore, her rules. If she didn’t like it, she could get out.
Cherry calmed her voice and said with an even tone, “I understand it is your house. It is not my intention to disrespect that. However, you need to understand that I’m an adult now. I would prefer to stay here at least until I graduate from school. But if you are going to give me an ultimatum, don’t do so under the assumption that I have nowhere else to stay. I’m prepared to walk out that door; are YOU prepared for that?”
The tone of the conversation changed after that; evidence that Cherry’s Mom was indeed NOT prepared for her to move out. They discussed a new set of ‘rules’ that permitted dating—the caveat being if Cherry’s grades slipped she either stopped dating or she would have to move out. But that never became a problem. When Cherry’s Mom got around to asking just who Cherry had been dating behind her back, she nearly had a stroke when Cherry told her it was me. But she managed to keep her cool and asked innocently, ‘Oh, is he still around?’
Life became much easier for Cherry and I after she admitted we were dating. We did our best to pacify her Mom by minding ‘suggested curfews’ and being honest (mostly) about what we were doing on our dates. It was a bit ironic that we were not as free to do what we wanted when we got together, but the trade-off was that we could get together more often. And that made it all worth it.
As more time went by, Cherry’s Mom became more accepting of me. I figured it was probably because she knew it was pointless to object. But one night they had me over for dinner and, after I left, She said to Cherry, “He really does love you; I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you.” When Cherry told me she said that, it took me by surprise—not because she could see it, but because she would openly admit it.
Cherry’s graduation was coming up in a few days and I already knew what I was getting her as a gift: I’d been saving up for it for a while! After withdrawing the savings from the special account, I went to pick up her engagement ring—I’d picked it out long before. I was surprised at how fast the money collected in the account, but not at all surprised at how quickly it could be spent! But it the end, it was more than worth it.
The day of Cherry’s graduation finally came and excitement filled the air; for her and me as well. The ceremony was held on the school’s football field which just seemed fitting somehow. There were about 400 students graduating that night; the guys wore red cap and gowns while the girls wore white. Of course, each student’s name was called one at a time and they crossed the improvised stage to collect their diploma. After a dozen students had crossed, one could estimate how popular a graduate was by the level of cheers from the crowd. When it was Cherry’s turn, I was not surprised to see the gold tassel on her cap, indicating that she was in the top ten percent of her class. Strangely, what took me by surprise was the crowd’s reaction as she crossed the stage to accept her diploma. I had intended to make sure she would hear me cheering for her, but as it turned out, my lone voice was no match for the enormous roar from the rest of the crowd. Sure: there were others getting loud ovations, too, but this was deafening!
After the last student received his diploma, the principle made a short speech before announcing the class as graduates before nearly 400 red and white caps filled the sky. I was as proud of her as I knew she must have felt at that moment.
While waiting for the crowd to start dissipating after the ceremony ended, Cherry’s Mom had a question for me.
She asked, “So, David—what are your intentions now with my daughter?”
Almost relieved the question was ‘finally out there’, I said, “Well, Cherry has become the single most important person in my life. I don’t even remember what it was like before we met and I don’t want to, either.”
I was prepared to continue, but she cut me off, saying, “I thought you’d answer with something like that. You’re going to ask her to marry you. Aren’t you?”
I was surprised by her way of cutting to the point and accuracy in predicting my intentions—all I could muster was a stupefied, “Wha…?”
She scoffed and said, “Oh, please! I can see it all over your face. Hers, too. It’s so cute it’s disgusting. And I’d tell you two to wait; but you won’t. Just like I didn’t. But I guess that’s ok. Smart isn’t the same as wise and neither of those mean a damn thing when you throw love in the equation. And as much as I hate to admit it, you two have that. And as long as you do, you’ll be fine.”
I thought for a second and asked, “Are you saying you approve?”
She said, “No, that’s not what I’m saying; at least not about the timing. But I’m at least wise enough to know my objection to your timing won’t stop either of you. And if she is going to get engaged right out of school, I’d want it to be to someone that looks at her the way you do.”
I asked, “What do you mean?”
She said, “You adore her. I catch the glimpses; you don’t think I do, but I do. There is strong attraction there, but I’ve never seen lust in your eyes. And it’s the same story with her. I know love when I see it so, how could I disapprove of that? I just hope you know what you are getting into.”
I said, “I think I know. But if you have any advice…?”
She thought for a second and said, “All couples go through an adjustment period. It takes time to fully learn about and get used to the other. The ‘happy ever after’ is a fairytale—that’s why you only see it in fairytales! WHEN you have a disagreement about something, ask yourself if it is more important than her feelings. If the answer is ‘no’, let her have her way; if the answer is ‘yes’, you stick to your guns. Rarely will the answer be ‘yes’. And don’t worry: I’ll be giving her the same bit of advice.”
I asked, “But what happens if the answer is ‘yes’ for both of us?”
She answered simply, “Compromise,” before continuing by saying, “That is when you compromise. You both have to work towards a solution you can both agree to—neither of you can have it completely your way then. Otherwise, the one that didn’t get it his/her way can become resentful of the other and that is never good for the relationship.”
I said, “That’s really smart advice. Thank you.”
She said, “No, that is wisdom…”
It didn’t take me a second to figure out that was likely the major problem between her and Cherry’s father, but I (perhaps wisely) didn’t make mention of it. I thanked her again and we exchanged a friendly hug. It was at that moment that Cherry found us in the crowd.
“Jeez—I can’t leave the two of you alone from now on,” Cherry teased.
Breaking the brief hug, her Mom said exasperated, “Oh, for crying out loud, Cherry!”
I barely acknowledged the joke with a smile and a shake of my head before I turned to congratulate her. Cherry beamed in pride of her accomplishment and talked about how she was excited at reaching the major milestone in her life. She was anxious to start the next chapter of her life, but first she had to turn in her cap and gown before receiving her actual diploma (the one she received on stage was a ‘prop’; the real diplomas were withheld to ensure students returned their ceremonial attire).
After getting her diploma and spending some time socializing with her friends, Cherry told them she had to go and we left together. Her Mom had gone home earlier and asked that she not stay out too late. We drove to a nearby lake where we enjoyed spending time together on occasion and sat in the grass; just holding each other while watching the moon light ripple off the water. Almost from the moment we first met, we both knew that we were meant to be together and the subject of marriage had come up more than ‘from time to time’. It was never a question of ‘if’ or ‘should we’; it was always about ‘when we do’. With that in mind, it didn’t make sense to ‘ask her to marry me’—it was just understood between us that we were already engaged. But it was time to make it official and I had to mark the occasion with something more than just giving her the ring. Ironically, it was her Mom that inspired some of what I had to say.
I said, “Cherry, you know that you are the most important part of my life and that I want to be with you forever. And you know I don’t exactly have a lot of money; I can’t promise you that I will be able to give you all of the things you may want. I can’t even promise you that I will be able to provide you with everything you will ever need. I want to promise you that we will never have hard times with money, but I’m sure we will. But what I can promise you, without hesitation, is that I will Love you forever and you will always come first before all else.”
I presented her the ring and she smiled wide as she held out her hand. With the ring in place, we sealed the deal with a kiss and we were officially engaged. She was glowing.
Cherry said, “You really are crazy… Don’t you know you just promised me the world? I don’t care if we live in a cardboard box: if I have your Love, I’ll have all I’ll ever need or want!”
We continued sitting in the grass by the lake—I watched the rippling water; Cherry admired the ring that she would never take off. She remarked, “Mom is going to freak out when she finds out.”
I said, “Actually, she already knows.”
Surprised, Cherry asked, “You told her?! You ARE crazy! I can’t believe she didn’t kill you!”
I said, “No, I didn’t tell her: she figured it out. From the sound of it, she figured it out a while ago.”
“Was she mad?” Cherry asked.
I replied, “Believe it or not, she wasn’t. I don’t think she likes out timing, but she isn’t mad. In fact, she sounded pretty understanding and even supportive—she gave me marriage advice.”
Cherry asked, “You’re lying?!”
I said matter-of-fact, “I’m not… She told me about how to determine if something is worth arguing about and when to compromise.”
She said, “You, Mr. Mann, have some effect on women!”
I said, “You must be right: I’m holding the most incredible one of them all in my arms right now.”
The setting by the lake under the moon, combined with our charged emotions, made for a particularly romantic moment. We made out for a while but kept it rather modest because of the lack of privacy. Making Love was always great, of course, but we had found that it wasn’t always necessary to express our feelings. Sometimes foregoing sex actually heightened our feelings of intimacy—it was all about anticipation—like a kid waiting for Christmas morning; it wouldn’t be the same without counting the days before…
The dropping temperature of the night air told us it was getting a bit late. We decided to call it a night—mostly to keep her Mom from worrying. But Cherry also wanted to tell her the news before she went to bed. Naturally, her Mom wasn’t surprised and she was as supportive as she could be while having her reservations due to Cherry being straight out of school.
Even though she had the grades for it, Cherry opted not to go to a major university. Instead, she enrolled in a well known nursing school that was only 20 minutes from my apartment. She began spending more and more time at my place; especially during the week. She would bring a few things from home with her every time she went home to visit and, eventually, her Mom noticed that Cherry was gradually moving out. She worried that her Mom would be upset about the move, but she actually took it in good stride.
She said, “Cherry, I know what you are doing—it’s ok. You don’t have to move out over time to save my feelings. Trust me, I get it: you want to be with David and you certainly don’t need my permission. You two have started your lives together. You don’t want to be tied down to me!”
Cherry hugged her Mom and said, “You are the best Mom ever. Thank you for everything you have done for me! Are you sure you’re ok with me moving out?”
She said, “It’s a bitter-sweet moment; one ever parent knows they must face eventually. I will miss you being here, but I’m so proud of the woman you have become.”
After talking for a while, Cherry gathered most of her remaining things (which wasn’t much) and came home to our apartment. The small place felt even smaller with two people living there, but it didn’t feel crowded; it was cozy.
Just as Cherry’s Mom predicted, money was very tight for us. I kept the allotment in place that I had set up to save for her ring, but inevitably we ended up drawing the savings out each month just to make ends meet. Cherry ended up getting a part time job working as a receptionist at a hotel nearby. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it helped get the bills paid. And, when she had the late shifts, she could get a lot of studying done at work.
We recalled our plans of starting a family with a lot of kids right away, but we could barely pay the electric bill; let alone hospital bills. So, we did the next best thing and just ‘practiced trying’ to have kids. What we lacked in finances, we made up for in passion! If you could spend Love at the store, we would be the richest people on Earth!
Cherry was nearly half way through her nursing training when we (finally) got married. We had a small ceremony with just a few friends and family. Olivia came in from out of town, just to be the Maid of Honor. I asked Chief and the rest of the guys to share the position of Best Man. We all wore our formal attire and Cherry had a gorgeous gown made by a friend of her Mom’s that ran a small seamstress business out of her home. The same dress from a department store would have set us back thousands of dollars; because of the connection, we only paid $150.00!
After we were married, life went on just like it had before; the only thing that changed was Cherry’s last name and we couldn’t have been happier. When she was getting close to finishing school, Cherry was at the very top of her class and was receiving job offers from several hospitals. She accepted not the highest paying offer, but the closest one to where we lived. Our time together was more important to her than a few extra dollars per hour…
Cherry’s starting income was actually more than what I was making after being on the job for years. Some guys struggle in dealing with that, but I was ok with it. It was because of her income that we could again start thinking about starting our family! Of course, we both had busy schedules, so child care was something we had to work out, but we threw caution to the wind and decided to cross that bridge when we got there.
We were still using the period tracker app as a means of birth control, but now it took on a new purpose. One week before she was due to ovulate, we completely stopped having sex. It had been a long time since I’d gone so long without having sex and my groin was beginning to ache. Then, on a shared day off, (finally) Cherry had an announcement.
She said, “Guess what today is?”
I said, “Sunday?”
She smiled, shaking her head saying, “Nope.”
Looking at the calendar, I said, “Yes it is: look.”
Cherry slinked over to me and straddled my lap before saying, “Guess again,” before planting a kiss on my lips.
Teasing her further, I said, “HMMMM… Must be my birthday!”
She replied, “NU-UHHH…” while shaking her head, the tip of her nose brushing mine from side to side.
I said, “It’s not your birthday or our anniversary, is it?”
Holding up her phone with the app opened up, she said, “I’ll give you one hint: I’m ovulating.”
I said, “OH! Now I know: today marks the day we can’t have sex for a while because you’ll get pregnant.”
Removing her top she said, “Wrong again—you lose!”
Cherry stood up and pulled my shorts and boxers off at the same time, leaving me bare-assed on the couch. I pulled my shirt off almost at the same time and by the time it hit the floor, she had her bra off and was straddling my lap again. She took my face in her hands and kissed me with more passion than ever before! My cock was more than prepared for action but was being held at bay by her yoga shorts and she refused to pick herself up even a little so I could slide them off of her. Finally, I put my hands on her sides, just above her hips and bench pressed her into the air over me. Cherry screamed and squirmed in surprise and laughter as I set her on her feet and pulled her shorts and panties down before she could stop me again. Giggling, she reached down to her ankles, grabbed her shorts and tried to pull them back up her sexy legs. But before she could get them above her knees, I put my foot between her legs and stomped them back down to the floor. She laughed uncontrollably again and tried to move my foot to get to her shorts, but I stood up and my weight kept them pinned to the floor. Then I grabbed her by the waist again and picked her up, bringing her to me. Cherry wrapped her arms and legs around me; still laughing at our mini ‘war’. Slowly I lowered my beautiful bride down as my cock found its’ favorite place to be. We stood there, conjoined in the living room. She began using her arms and legs to rock on my swollen shaft while kissing me like she had moments ago. I began walking towards the bedroom and she made sounds that were a mixture of deep passion and giggling.
My old bed had been replaced not long after Cherry moved in. We now had a full queen size bed and it was huge to us! I discovered one nice characteristic it had: the top of the mattress was right at the level of my crotch—I took advantage of the ‘feature’ and set my bride down on the edge without having to pull out of her. She slowly scooted back and I matched her movements, moving over the top of her; our eyes locked together. Cherry had the most beautiful smile I had ever seen or would ever see.
My orgasm was building already, but I wanted this to last longer, so I slowed my thrusting down to almost a stop and concentrated on her nipples for a while. But she picked up the ‘slack’ by increasing the motion of her rocking hips on me. The saved up orgasm became imminent and I knew nothing would prolong it now. I hooked my elbows behind her knees, pushed in as deep as possible, and my cockhead brushed her cervix the moment my load erupted with incredible force inside of her. Wave after wave flushed inside of her and for a moment I thought I might never stop cumming. Eventually the orgasm subsided and, when it did, I was able to feel the pulsing of her orgasm, too. But we were far from finished! Without skipping a beat, we went right back to making Love and we kept at it for (literally) several hours! By the time we were done, we both felt like we had just run a triathlon and passed out there in bed.
A few hours passed and I was barely aware that Cherry got out of bed. She came back a couple of minutes later.
“David, get up!” she whispered.
Coming out of my sex-induced coma I asked, “What? Why? What’s the matter?”
She said, “Nothing; you need to eat something and have a drink.”
My eyes were still focusing as she handed me a protein bar and a bottle of water. Still in a bit of confusion, I sat up and took the items and began consuming them without questioning ‘why’. Just as the question began to form in my head, she got on the bed and maneuvered over me—sitting on my lap.
“You really need to get up, now,” she said.
I said, “Ok, but I can’t: you’re sitting on me…”
She shook her head and replied, “I didn’t say you need to get out of bed; I said you need to get…UP!”
As if my dick heard the order for ‘himself’, he jumped to attention and was prepared for action. Cherry lined herself up and sat down on my ridged cock and began slowly grinding her hips on me. Still sitting up, Cherry pushed me back and told me to ‘rest’—that she could ‘take it from here’. Laying there as I was, looking at my beautiful wife, I couldn’t help but remember the night she gave me her virginity—right there in the same room and in the same position. Her body looked just as good now as it did then; maybe even better!
To my surprise, she said as if reading my thoughts, “This reminds me of my very first time. Right here in your apartment; me on top of you like I am now… And now we are going to conceive our first baby here—in the same room where I lost my virginity.”
I said, “I was just thinking about that! But you didn’t ‘lose’ your virginity: you GAVE it to me! Remember?”
She replied, “I remember… But it was more like a trade, if you ask me: I gave you something I couldn’t use for something a LOT more fun!”
As soon as she said that, she began to gyrate like never before. It wasn’t just her hips moving: it was her entire torso, her arms, and even her neck, head and legs—she moved like a seasoned belly dancer on my dick inside of her and it was the most erotic vision I’d ever seen!
Cherry’s stamina was truly impressive and I was doing pretty well at keeping up with her. She could see in my face that I was going to cum again and she picked her knees up off of the bed; the resulting effect was a noticeable increase in the amount of pressure she could thrust down onto me. Cherry made short, rapid jumps on my lap that caused her ass to smack my lap and her perfect breast and beautiful hair bounced in rhythm. With each bounce I could feel my cock head crash into her cervix with force and she grunted with minor pain each time. My balls seemed to pull tight and my fourth orgasm of the day exploded in multiple, hurried spurts. Cherry’s walls clamped down on my pulsing cock and I could feel her thumping on me.
Lying down on my chest, she said with a sigh, “I just love that feeling…”
Because of the marathon session earlier and it was getting late, we were both wiped out and ‘only’ went for the one ‘extra round’. But because the ‘name of this game’ was ‘let’s make a baby’, we spooned with me inside of her until we fell asleep—just to keep as many of my swimmers from escaping as possible.
The next morning we were both in a bit of pain, but neither of us complained. However, it showed when we walked! We debated for only a few seconds about having a ‘morning session’ before work, but we both knew that was a bad idea. Instead, we got a much needed shower and enjoyed a nice breakfast together. Thankfully, Cherry was a much better cook than I!
Nothing too unusual happened at work that day. But when I got home, Cherry had a bit of surprising news.
Cherry said, “You’ll never guess who got married.”
I guessed, “Your Mom and Dad?”
She scoffed, “Yeah, right: those two get married?! No… I’m serious—guess!”
Clueless, I just shook my head with a forced frown, indicating ‘I have no idea’.
Cherry said, “Olivia!”
I asked, “Olivia? Your best friend growing up; head cheerleader, ‘I’m a lesbian’, Olivia???”
She nodded and said, “Yeah: THAT Olivia.”
Completely stunned, all I could say was, ‘Wow.”
Cherry continued, “Right? She called me today and said she got married just before we did. She didn’t want to tell me before because she was afraid of ‘stealing the wind from my sails’. And she waited after we got married because then she was afraid I’d be mad she didn’t tell me before!”
I asked, “Why didn’t she tell you before?”
She said, “I don’t know; she said it was a long story and she’d tell me later. They are coming into town soon and she said we’d get together and she’d tell me about it then.”
I shrugged and said, “Ok. It’ll be good to see her again, right?”
Cherry agreed and the subject was dropped. We had serious business to take care of—namely: making certain that Cherry’s next period didn’t happen! It was a lot of work, but I was more than glad to take on the task! Over the course of that following week, we spent as much time as possible trying to ensure she got pregnant. We had so much sex that it literally seemed impossible for us to not succeed. The day her period was due to start came and we both waited. A few days later, she was officially late and that was rare for her. We were excited about the implication, but we were both scared to get our hopes up too soon. When she was a week late, we both knew she was pregnant but she was afraid to take a home test.
The home test soon became a moot point. One night, she sprang out of bed and ran to the bathroom. The suddenness of her movement woke me and the unmistakable porcelain echo of someone puking came from the bathroom. I got up and went quickly to her side and held her hair back for her as the next volley hit her. I grabbed a ‘scrunchy’ (a hair rubber-band) from the counter, put her hair back for her and massaged her back and shoulders. When it looked like she was finished, I went and grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge for her. Cherry spit one last time in the toilet and flushed before thanking me for the water. After she brushed her teeth and drank half of the water, she made a joke.
She said, “Not to freak you out or anything, but I think you knocked me up.”
I laughed and teased, “Are you sure it’s mine? I mean, maybe…”
She joked back, “I’m almost certain it’s yours. Sure: it could be the stock boy’s from the cereal aisle, but that was just the one time.”
I was laughing out loud now and asked, “What about the mailman?”
Cherry said, “Oh. I didn’t know you knew about him…”
Giving her the last punch line, I said, “Come on; let’s go back to bed.”
We crawled back in bed and she snuggled up to me as always. Before falling asleep we told each other how much we loved one another and how happy we were. I fell asleep literally with a smile on my face.
The next morning, Cherry was sick again—I guessed that is why it is called ‘morning sickness’. She was trying to be quiet, but I heard her anyway and got up to try and comfort her again.
She puked, spit, and said, “Yep: I am SO knocked up!”
Continuing the joke from before, I said, “What are we going to tell our parents?”
Cherry threw up again and said, “I don’t care what they say: I’m keeping it.”
I said, “And you will have my support, too.”
Finished joking around, Cherry said she wanted to wait until she was at least a month along before telling anyone. I understood and agreed. It was difficult to keep the news under wraps; it was just so exciting. But I kept my word. When Olivia said she would be in town before Cherry reached her one month point, I thought she’d cave for sure. To my surprise, she didn’t.
I came home from work one night and I could tell from her car in the parking lot, Cherry was already home. I walked through the door and saw Cherry was in the kitchen; Olivia was sitting at the table. I told her it was nice to see her again and she stood to give me a friendly hug. I made a little bit of small talk by asking how was the drive; if she remembered how to find the apartment, etc…
Olivia said, “The drive wasn’t bad since we shared the driving; had no trouble finding your place again.”
I said, “Oh, you both came? Where…?”
She cut me off by answering simply, “Bathroom…”
I said, “Oh; right. We were surprised to hear you got married—Congratulations!”
Olivia smiled and said, “Thanks! Yeah, we met in college, hit it off right away and next thing you know, we were married!”
I said, “Well, that is awesome; I’m happy for you.”
I could hear someone coming down the hall and couldn’t wait to meet the guy that not only managed to convert a lesbian straight, but also married her. As I was turning around to meet him, Olivia made the introduction.
Olivia said, “David, this is the Love of my life: my wife, Amanda.”
For the briefest of moments I was dumbfounded and speechless. I should have known better, and yet I was still surprised. I was so used to the concept of marriage being just between a man and a woman that, as soon as the word ‘married’ was used, I assumed Olivia had married a man. I’d soon learn that they quickly took advantage of the state’s new laws allowing same sex marriage. And that was part of the reason why they didn’t tell anyone beforehand; they didn’t want to wait and possibly miss their chance if the law was suddenly turned over. But before I learned about all of that, I quickly recovered from my moment of stupor.
I said, “Hello, Amanda. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Amanda said, “It’s nice to meet you, too. Olivia told me about you helping her. I can’t thank you enough!”
I said, “No, it wasn’t that big of a deal—she did the hard part; I was just a muse at best.”
We all sat around the kitchen table and talked for hours. Olivia and Amanda shared their story about how they met and fell in love. It was plain to see that they truly were in love: it was all over their faces. And, it was really nice to see Olivia so happy. What’s more, Amanda was not hard on the eyes! She was a blonde hair, blue eyed girl with a nice body. She was about two inches taller than Olivia and her breasts were larger as well (still not as nice as my Cherry’s, though).
We continued talking and the question came up about the economy and job market where they lived. They said it had been terrible and they were getting ready to move back to our area. Cherry and I remarked how nice that would be—we could get to spend more time together. Amanda asked if we were planning on having any children and Cherry handled it masterfully by saying we were making plans…eventually. Amanda said that they wanted to have a baby, too, and that surprised me at least—Cherry seemed less than surprised, strangely.
Olivia said, “Obviously we’ll need some help in that department when the time comes. We are trying to figure out…some details.”
I said, “Yeah, I guess that could be a bit complicated. I guess you are looking at going to a ‘bank’?”
Amanda’s face cringed slightly and she said, “Well, we haven’t really figured that part out yet either.”
I said, “I hate to break it to you, but your options are a bit limited, I think.”
Cherry asked, “So you have one obvious hurdle there, but who is going to carry the baby?”
Olivia admitted, “Yeah, we haven’t figured that one out yet, either.”
I offered, “Well, you’ll either have to flip a coin or have two!”
They laughed and Amanda said, “The thing is: we both want to have the baby and we both want the other to be happy and have that same experience. And we don’t know if we’ll be able to handle two. So, it’s a bit of a dilemma.”
I said, “Wow. That is really complicated.” Turning to Cherry I said, “Babe, no offense but, you’re going to carry any children we have!”
A few laughs preceded Cherry’s follow-up joke, “Fine: but you’ll have to drive me to the sperm bank first.”
Olivia and Amanda laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.
I responded to Cherry’s stinger with faux pain, “OOOOO…. But what happened with the mailman?”
Cherry quipped, “We broke up.”
Olivia and Amanda were on the verge of tears, they laughed so hard.
Changing the subject once the laughter died down a bit, I said, “There is something I’ve been a little curious about and I was wondering if you would mind telling me?”
Olivia said, “If you ask ‘which of us is the man’, I swear I’m going to punch you!”
I said, “NO-no-no! That’s not it! I promise. Clearly you are both the woman—that’s just how it works. My question is: when you got married, did either of you change your last name? If so, how do you decide whose name gets changed?”
Amanda answered, “Yes. Olivia took my name…for a few reasons. For one, her last name was Huggins. ‘Amanda Huggins’? It’s too close to ‘Hugginkiss’. And for two, I proposed to her.”
Olivia added, “Besides: I like the sound of Olivia Hart. And with the way my parents were acting, there was no way I was going to ask my wife to take their last name.”
I said, “That all makes perfect sense.”
Cherry asked, “Are they accepting you any better now?”
Amanda chimed in, “OH, yeah. They have come a long way since we got married. You can tell they still aren’t completely thrilled—like they’d prefer it if Olivia was straight. But they at least treat her and me with respect and they don’t push their beliefs on us.”
Olivia said, “They know better now; they know I’m not going to put up with it.”
Cherry offered, “I’ll bet they’ll completely forget about it when you have a baby! Babies have that power over grandparents!”
The conversation turned back to the prospect of children and it seemed like they were simultaneously trying work out details and beating around the bush about something, too. A few minutes later, Cherry said something that suggested I was ‘on the outside’ of some shared knowledge.
Cherry said, “Are you two going to ask him or what?”
Olivia and Amanda were unable to talk as they looked back and forth between each other, Cherry, and me. An awkward silence ensued for a few seconds before Olivia spoke.
Talking to Cherry she said, “UHHH… We thought maybe you should ask—later…”
Cherry said, “I’m not asking! It’s your question!”
Curious about what I was missing out on, I said, “Ask who—me? Ask what?”
Olivia stammered a bit before saying to Cherry, “Thanks, Cherry! There is really no good way to…Oh, god I’m so embarrassed! Honey, can you ask? I have to…use the bathroom.”
Olivia excused herself before Amanda could answer her and I sat there wide-eyed; wondering what was going on. I looked at Amanda and she seemed pretty uncomfortable, too. Cherry looked like she was biting her tongue to keep from laughing while sitting on the edge of her seat to see what would happen next.
Amanda drew a deep breath and let it out before speaking. “Ok, it’s like this: We want to have a baby—you already know that. And we’ve looked into banks and that process; we aren’t very comfortable with it, frankly. They say they have high standards of screening but then you hear the cases of mixed-up deposits. Then you hear the really bad, horror stories of deposits replaced by a lab worker’s own samples—it’s creepy, to say the least. So, we would prefer to actually know the donor.”
Amanda’s forehead wrinkled slightly with worry while Cherry was looking at me with her eyes wide open in anticipation of when the light in my head would turn on. The pieces clicked into place.
“Are you saying you want me to be the donor?”
Almost afraid to answer, Amanda just nodded her head slightly.
I said, “Wow. I’m not sure what to say.” Looking to my wife, I said, “You knew about this?”
Cherry just nodded her head.
Still stunned, I asked her, “What are your thoughts?”
Cherry responded, “If I had objected, the subject wouldn’t have been brought up. I told them it was up to you.”
Looking back to Amanda I asked, “Are you sure you want me for the donor? I mean, WHY me?”
Amanda said, “Olivia said you are a really good guy. You aren’t our type of course, but as far as guys go, you are a good looking guy; you are in good shape; You have a lot of good ‘manly’ qualities—you have good genes! And, you are her best friend’s husband, so we know we can trust you.”
I thought for a second and said, “This is something I’m going to have to think about. It’s a big commitment and…”
Amanda said, “There’s no commitment attached! We don’t expect anything from you after the fact: no child support or anything of that nature. You don’t even have to be a part of her or his life if you don’t want to be.”
I said, “Ok, I guess if Cherry doesn’t object and you’re sure… How does this work, then? Do I just give you a sample and you guys take it in to have it implanted? Do I have to go there with you? What?”
Cherry got up and said, “I’m going to go check on Olivia,” and she quickly left the room. Amanda watched her leave before she turned back to me while searching for words.
She said, “I don’t think that’s going to work for us. We kind-of want to completely avoid the clinic. This is the thing: we both feel like the creation of our baby should be the same experience as it is for straight parents—the result of a loving and romantic union; not because a doctor injected it inside of one of us while in his exam room, wearing a paper gown and our feet up in stirrups.”
Amanda continued, “There’s more.”
I said under my breath, “Of course there is…”
Before Amanda could go on, Cherry pulled Olivia out of the bathroom and dragged her back into the kitchen, sitting her back down in her chair. Olivia couldn’t even look at me. Cherry wanted to laugh desperately and I wasn’t sure if it was at my discomfort or theirs; perhaps both.
Amanda got to the ‘full’ question, saying, “So, the thought we had—what we want to ask you to do—if you are willing…is to…make the donation…while she and I are…being intimate.”
I exhaled deeply and sat back in my chair at the gravity of her question. Cherry was clearly about to burst out laughing and I couldn’t tell for sure what she thought of the idea.
I said, “So, you want me to have a three-way with you so you can have a baby.”
Before Amanda could answer, Olivia finally spoke, “NO! It won’t be a three-way! I know what you mean, but this is different to us. We want it to be just the two of us—her and me. You are there only for the necessary part. With the exception of ‘that’, you don’t have any interaction with us.”
Amanda chimed in, saying, “We want you to understand that his would not be you ‘having sex’ with either of us. What we want is to become pregnant while we make love…we just need a little help from a third party—you, hopefully.”
Olivia said, “Yeah: for you, it’s not making love, having sex, or even intercourse; it’s simply helping with procreation.”
They seemed prepared to continue explaining, but I cut them off, saying, “I got it—I understand. But, if it’s ok, I want to think about this—talk it over with Cherry before I give you an answer. Is that ok?”
Amanda said, “Yes! That’s perfectly ok! Please do: it just means you are taking this seriously and we appreciate that.” Amanda and Olivia both stood and Amanda continued, “Now, if you don’t mind, we are going to go and let you two talk. Besides, I think my wife is thoroughly embarrassed right now!”
Olivia agreed and said, “As a matter of fact, I am a little embarrassed. You haven’t been friends with them as long as I have—it’s different…”
They thanked us for having them over and just for considering helping them. We told them not to mention it and it was nice having them. Once they were gone and out of ear range, Cherry finally laughed out loud.
As she was recovering, she said with a chuckle, “You should have seen the look on your face—when you figured out what they want you to do!”
I said, “I’m sure it was priceless and I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
She said, “Oh, I did!”
I asked, “So, what are we going to do about this?”
Leading the way to the bedroom, Cherry said, “It’s totally up to you. I’ll support you either way.”
I said, “Babe, I’m sorry, but I can’t take that as your answer. I seriously need your thoughts on this.”
She asked, “Why? What’s the big deal?”
I was surprised and asked her, “What the big deal? They want me to impregnate one of them…using the ‘original method’ of getting someone pregnant! That means my dick would have to be inside one of them—just so you know!”
While we were getting ready for bed, she replied, “Well yeah, but…it’s just to give them a baby. I mean: they are a dedicated couple—a lesbian couple. I know they aren’t trying to take you from me. And, for that matter, I know you aren’t going to end up with some grand delusion that they want you to run away with them and you’ll end up leaving me for them—that’s crazy, right? And after everything Olivia has done for us, wouldn’t this be a nice way to repay her? We kind-of owe her!”
I asked, “What do you mean—‘everything she has done for us’? You helped her emotionally through high school by being her surrogate girlfriend when she was feeling alone and wanted intimacy—even though she knew you weren’t a lesbian; and she only came out because of our encouragement; how do we owe this or anything to her? What has she done for us?”
Cherry gasped and said with exasperation, “DAVID MANN! I’m surprised at you! We owe her EVERYTHING! Who drove me to the mall the first day we met? Who gave me a cover story and brought me over here for our first night together when you needed me—only to get busted and then watched like a hawk by her parents? Who then continued to give me cover stories, at great personal risk of her freedoms, so we could spend a few precious moments together after cheerleading practice? What do we owe her??? Without Olivia, we wouldn’t be together: she facilitated the beginning of our entire relationship!”
Before she could finish, I already felt like an ass. I said, “Holy shit; you’re right. How did I not see that? WOW! I guess I was so focused on you that…I just didn’t realize.”
Crawling in bed, Cherry said, “So, now she is asking for one favor with no strings attached. Now, you ask yourself: is it so much more than what she did for us?”
I had the answer immediately, “No. It isn’t. As long as you can promise me that you won’t feel bad in any way if I…you know—‘help them’. Because hurting your feelings even a little bit because of this would make it too much for them to ask.”
Cherry responded with a question, “Do you remember when I told you about Olivia and me? Remember what you said? You didn’t feel bad about what she and I did together. Why? Because you knew what we had was strong and that what she and I were doing meant nothing emotionally—to either of us. How is this any different?”
I got in bed next to Cherry, kissed her and said, “I hope our baby is as smart as you!” Then I said, “OK: I’ll do it for them. But, there are two conditions that I have. I want you to be there, too—as a moderator—just in case. And it has to happen somewhere else—not in our bed.”
Cherry smiled and said, “That’s really sweet. I’m sure they won’t have a problem with that.”
We made Love for about an hour—just for fun—before calling it a night to get some sleep so we could function at work the next day.