Ann: A Love Story Ch. 12

"Tell, me Neil, when we have our date, will you take me dancing like you did Ann?"

"That would depend on a couple of things," I answered. "And what would those be," she said as she moved her camisole to the side, flashing her left breast quickly to try and get a rise out of me.

I reached out and pinched her exposed nipple, and said, "Well, one would be your availability. I'm sure you're going to have a lot of dates, or at least guys wanting you. Another would be your ability to dance."

Nancy playfully hit me in the arm, and said, "Neil, take a look at these legs and tell me what you think. I've done some dancing that would probably surprise you. As for your other concern, no matter how busy my schedule is, I'm pretty sure I'll find a way to work you in. Now can I ask another question?"

"Sure."

"Did you ever think of just fucking Ann at the table? She said you were fingering her and made her cum. Would you have done that if she asked?"

"Well, she wasn't going to ask. And that's not where either of us was mentally at that moment. How it was was perfect, so, it never crossed my mind. But it sounds like it's crossed yours."

"That's going to be my new fantasy. Getting fucked by you at the Starlight, in public where anyone might see us. That makes me so hot."

I reached down and ran my hand up the inside of Nancy's thigh. She spread her legs just a little more, inviting me. I obliged, ramming two fingers deep inside her. Nancy closed her eyes and held in her moans, trembling instead as I fucked her with my hand for just a moment. I got her worked up fast, and then rubbed my thumb across her clit, at the same time I pulled at her nipple. Nancy came with a shudder, and fell forward into my arms. I pulled my hand out of her snatch to hold her, and brought them to my mouth. Her chest was pressed against mine, my hand still squeezing and playing with her tit, when we heard a door around the corner open and the distinctive sound of heels walking on the ceramic tile coming from behind Nancy.

I quickly let go of Nancy, and she scrambled to pull herself together. I walked away, towards the sound, leaving Nancy behind to fend for herself. As I rounded the corner, I saw Emma, Nancy's boss, walking toward me. I needed to buy Nancy some time to get out of the hallway, knowing Emma would wonder why she was loitering there. I put my fingers into my mouth and started to lick them like I'd just eaten something sticky, which in a roundabout way I had. Emma looked at me and said, "What are you doing, Neil?"

"Hi Emma," I said louder than I needed to, but hoping my greeting would echo down the hall to alert Nancy. "How are you this afternoon?"

"I'm fine. What are you doing?"

"Oh, I just had a slice of pie a little bit ago, and I guess my fingers are still a little sticky."

"Pie? What kind?"

I was going to say cherry, but that seemed a little too obvious, so I went less suggestive and said, "Ah...apple."

"That's nice," she said.

That was pretty much it as far as the conversation. I never heard any footsteps while I talked to Emma, but I did hear the door at the end of the hall open and close. And there were no steps afterwards. I continued on towards the front, and had a quick meeting with my boss, and headed back to my department.

When I got to my desk, there was a note on it from Nancy, thanking me for helping her escape, and for helping her release some pent up tension. That's how it was worded. I guess she didn't want to leave anything more explicit out in the open on my desk, which I appreciated.

I called Nancy, who was back at the front desk.

"Hi," she said answering the phone. She knew it was me before I said anything.

"Hi," I said back, unsure really what I should say.

"I knew you'd call. I've been waiting for it. Thanks for saving my ass. And for what you did in the hallway."

"You're welcome, Nancy. But, I think we..."

"I agree. I've been thinking about it since you left me there. This is all way too risky. Look, Neil...I'm going to be who I am, thanks to you. But I don't think either of us needs to keep playing these games, at least here at work."

I laughed and said, "I'm still going to stare at you, Nancy. And I'm likely going to continue to flirt."

"Me too; I just think I need to be more careful."

"There were two of us, Nancy."

"Yeah, but your Dad is..."

"Not going to save my job because I did something stupid. I'm no different from anybody else here in his eyes. And I shouldn't be in yours either."

"Sure you are. You're the same a man that just made me cum in the hallway; and in just a couple of minutes. Neil, you're not like anybody else I've ever met."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I'm impervious to being fired. My point is you didn't do that alone. There were two of us. I take responsibility for what I do."

"See, you're NOT like any other guy."

We both had a laugh, and then she had to take an incoming call. I hung up and sat down, letting out a big sigh. It was a genuine relief that Nancy felt the same way that I did. I really did need my job, and it would be difficult enough to explain my libido getting out of control to my boss, let alone my father. Yet, there was a perverse thrill to it all. It wasn't all that unusual for me to think about sex during work. Participating in sexual acts was a new ball game entirely.

~*~*~*~*~*~

I was home by a quarter to four, and I decided to take one of those power naps my father had made famous. I set the alarm for 4:30, and was amazed. I must have been out as soon as my body went from vertical to horizontal. For only sleeping about 45 minutes, I woke up remarkable refreshed. It occurred to me that my Dad was on to something, since every time I took one I felt much better afterward.

I jumped into the shower to get the days dirt off of me, and get ready to go to Ann's house. Remarkably, I wasn't nervous about going to meet her folks. It wasn't like we were a real item, or that we were going to become a real item. We were a temporary boyfriend and girlfriend, and it was just dinner. I'd felt that pressure before, with old girlfriends, and particularly my ex-wife. But I didn't have any real apprehension thinking about the night. Maybe I should have, but the reality was, I didn't.

As I went back into my room, I wondered how I was supposed to dress. I didn't want to be too formal, and yet, I was cautious about being too casual as well. I decided on khaki pants, and a polo shirt and I was going with my deck loafers, striving for middle of the road. I didn't want to wear shorts or jeans, but dressing up didn't seem right either. We were just eating at their house. When I looked in the mirror, I realized I was putting way too much thought into it, and wondered if I was more nervous than I thought.

I tried to shove that thought out of my mind, and I finished getting ready. It was a couple of minutes before five, and I was walking out of the house just as my Mom got home. She told me to have a good time, and not to be nervous.

"Why would I be nervous? It's just dinner."

"You're right. Just have a good time then."

"I will. I'll see you tomorrow."

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"I have no idea, really."

"I'm being too nosy. Have fun," she said as she kissed me on the cheek.

It was unlike my Mom to be apologetic for being nosy. Or even admit to it. In truth, she rarely was nosy. She didn't have to be, because she was so intuitive, and seemed to always know more than I gave her credit for. I recalled my older brother giving me some advice before I left for college. His one and only point was; don't try to hide anything from Mom, because she probably already knows it.

He was speaking from experience, and being older than me, he was past his college years and able to reflect back upon it objectively. He never told me why, but I was sure there was an event or two that made him feel he should tell me that. Always being one to learn from his mistakes that I'd seen firsthand, I took his word on the one I hadn't.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a short drive over to the Franklin home; only about 5 blocks away, on the other side of the main road that travels through the center of the town. I parked in front of the house, since I didn't see Ann's father's truck in the driveway. I rang the doorbell at precisely 5:00 PM, and waited for Ann. Instead, her Mom greeted me at the door.

I swallowed hard.

"Hi, you must be Neil. I don't think we've ever officially met, but I've seen you over at Matt's a lot," Ann's Mom said as she opened the front door for me.

I held out my hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Franklin. Thanks for having me over." Ann's Mom was very attractive, and I had to admit, I actually looked a little too close. It was one of those things where I was looking at the Mom to try to get a read on what the daughter would look like years down the line. I could do a whole lot worse.

"Come in, Neil. Ann's still getting ready, and Marlin is on his way home from work. Can I get you something to drink?"

"A water would be nice, Mrs. Franklin," I said, taking off my shoes as I entered their home. It was something that had been so drilled into me by my parents that I always did it, without even thinking about it. But I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Ann's Mom was watching. Her reaction spoke volumes, and I knew that that little gesture had gotten me off on the right foot.

Enough so that she said, "You can call me Jean, dear."

Jean left me in the living room. I looked around, studying the décor. The house had a country flavor to it; very country. It was a drastic difference from my parents' contemporary home. While it was warm, I couldn't help but think that Ann was out of place there; like the square peg in a house full of round holes. Jean returned a short time later with my water. I was still standing, and she asked me to sit. I took a seat on the couch, and took a deep breath as I prepared for conversation.

Jean laughed. "Nervous?"

"Honestly, yes," I said, and she reacted like she was taken aback.

"My goodness, Neil. Why? There's no reason to be."

"Sure there is. This night is important. I don't want to screw it up."

"Why would you think that?"

I sat for a second, wondering just how to approach Jean. I didn't have any right to interfere in her relationship with Ann. And yet, I couldn't help but see that lost little girl inside Ann when I picked her up at the house that first time; misunderstood, helpless and alone. I could stay silent and let things fall where they would naturally. Or...

"Jean, do you mind if ask you something?"

"No, please, go ahead."

"How many boyfriends has Ann brought home to meet you and Mr. Franklin?"

She pondered on that for a moment. "I'm not sure. I can't recall any at the moment. Why?"

I put my hand up, motioning that I wasn't finished. "Did you meet any of the guys she dated in California? Like Ray?"

"I'm not sure. I know we never met Ray. But, we've only gone out there twice since she moved out there. When we visit her, we stay with Marlin's brother. He works for the county as a..."

I put my hand up again when Jean started going off on a tangent, and she stopped talking, looking at me. I wanted to talk about Ann, and she wanted to talk about anything but. I smiled, but my face was serious. Serious enough that I knew calling her Jean at the moment would be impolite. "Mrs. Franklin; I don't mean to sound rude, but your daughter is 28, and this is the first time you've ever taken the time to meet someone in her life. And I find that a little odd. So yes, I'm nervous. But frankly, I'm more nervous for her."

Jean seemed puzzled by the entire line of questioning. Instead of cluing in on what I was trying to get at with her daughter, she was defensive. She blinked several times, and said, "Good heavens...why?"

I shook my head a little and said, "The fact that you don't know why, is why."

I sat there, thinking I'd just blown up the whole evening before it ever got started. I really didn't have a right to do that at all. Ann was old enough to fight her own battles. But when you've waged the same war your entire life, and nothing seems to work, maybe it was time for someone who cared about her to come to her defense. And that was what struck me. Ann's Mom had never met anyone that cared for her. Not in the way that I did. And that was a staggering thought for me, because I was still trying to get a grip on how I felt. And yet, I knew I cared enough to take a stance that was at the very least, questionable.

Jean sat back on the couch, looking intently at me. I didn't waver. I sat, and waited. It was her turn to talk.

"You seem to want to make a point, Neil. Why don't you go ahead and make it," she said, digging in her heels.

"Not a point, really. It's more of an observation."

"We just met. How can you have observed anything?"

"Not about you, Mrs. Franklin. I'm talking about your daughter."

"Oh...okay, go on."

"She's not the girl I went to High School with. And that's a good thing. Ann was sweet in school. She still is...that hasn't changed. But I can tell you that she's smart, she's confident, she's independent. She's also brave, and daring, and inventive. She never showed those things before."

"Neil, why are you telling me all of these things""

"Because she won't. She could, but she won't. And she shouldn't have to, really. They should be pretty evident. There were to me."

"I'm not sure I'm following you, Neil. She's my daughter. I think I know who she is."

"That's just it... I'm afraid that you don't. When I look at Ann, I see a beautiful, successful 28 year old woman. What is it that you see?"

Jean's eyes got wide, and she sat back even further on the coach. I couldn't read her very well, but I knew she was either angry or upset. But I'd already stuck my neck out so far, what was another inch or two going to matter?

"I could be wrong, but I think you still see an 18 year old girl. The girl that left town 10 years ago naïve and scared and totally unprepared to face the world. And you're looking at her like she still needs your help...you're a Mom...that's what Mom's do. But you know what, Mrs. Franklin. She's facing that world...and she's winning. I've been a manager for over 4 years now...I went to college, graduated...but then I went to work where I knew I could get a job. And it's a good job, but there was no risk. But Ann...she built her career on her own, ALL by herself. No higher education...no help to speak of...she just took a chance and worked her butt off. Now, she's the manager of a store that sells well over a million a year. She's got three to four times as many employees working for her as I have, and she has to worry about them 14 to 15 hours a day. I used to think I was successful...and then I met your daughter again."

"Neil, you seem like a nice young man...but you're acting like I'm clueless."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that, and I certainly don't think you're clueless. If anything, I just think you're misguided. Ann went off to California, probably against you're wishes, and yet she's made it. She doesn't need the type of mothering that protects her anymore. She need's the type that not only supports her, but shows she's proud of her. Look, I know I'm coming off pretty bad here...you must feel like I'm lecturing you. And I know that I'm taking a huge chance in doing it; like I said, this night is important to her. But, I've only been with her for a couple of days, really...and I'M proud of her; so much so that I wanted to be with her tonight, and meet you. Your daughter loves you, Mrs. Franklin. She just wants you to love her for who she is, not for what you thought she would be. From where I'm sitting, you raised an amazing girl, who's grown into an even more amazing woman. You should be proud of THAT. You did your job as a parent, and I, for one, am thankful."

Jean thought about what I said for a moment. Now I WAS nervous, but I tried not to show it. She finally swallowed hard, choking back some emotions she didn't want me to see. "You've seemed to observe a lot in such a short time," she said.

"Well, I have to be honest. I always did better in school in classes where I was excited about the subject. And Ann is an exciting subject to me."

Jean laughed a little, and that broke the tension for a moment. She took a deep breath and finally spoke. "What do you suggest, Neil?"

"I just followed my heart, right now, Mrs. Franklin. What's your heart telling you?"

She smiled. It was a broad, welcoming smile, much like the one she'd flashed me when she greeted me at her door. "I told you, Neil. You can call me Jean."

~*~*~*~*~*~

We spent another fifteen to twenty minutes on the couch. Every minute that passed, I felt better about what I'd done. But then again, I hadn't talked to Ann yet.

Jean asked me about my job, and then about my parents. She knew them, because it was a small town. But they didn't run with the same circle of friends. Then she asked a question about my relationship with Matt.

I smiled and said, "Well, I'm sure you already know about all of that, and about me. I know you walk with Karen every day."

I was alluding to the fact that Jean knew Matt's Mom, Karen very well, and Karen was not known for keeping her mouth quiet when it came to gossip. With my being at Matt's house a lot, Karen had been around enough to know the details of what I went through. I didn't mind, since I'd actually used that conduit to the gossip hotline to my advantage in my battle against the ex. I had, upon occasion, said things in front of Karen that I knew would eventually get to my ex. I wasn't proud of it, but at the time, I didn't have a lot of people on my side as to what the truth was.

Jean smiled and said, "Yes, you're right."

I was surprised she didn't ask me about my divorce. I wondered if Ann had warned against saying anything, or if she was waiting for her husband to come home before grilling me. We were back on the subject of my job, when the garage door opened. Ann's Dad walked through the back door, and went straight to the kitchen. Jean excused herself and walked in to see him, and could hear them talking. A few minutes later, he walked alone into the living room. I stood up as he approached me.

"Neil, I'm Marlin Franklin," he said with his hand out.

He was a thin man, and with leathery skin and a hard face. I would have recognized him without the uniform he was wearing. Ann's Dad was a postman, and he worked the desk at the local Post Office. I'd seen him a hundred times there, but never knew he was Ann and Alan's dad. His handshake was strong, and yet he wasn't one of those fathers that tried to intimidate you by trying to crush your fingers. That didn't mean he didn't look me over carefully, though.

"It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Franklin. I want to thank you for having me over."

"Let's go downstairs where we can be more comfortable," he said almost sternly. He loosened his tie as he led me into the basement.

The basement was split in half, with two sides running the length of the house. The side the stairway was on was kind of an office in one part, and behind a door, there was the laundry area. We walked to the other side of the basement, into their finished family room.

The first thing I noticed was the gun cabinet, against the wall directly across from the doorway. It was stocked with eight different types of rifles and/or shotguns. My family didn't hunt, so I'd not been around it that much. I knew lots of people who were hunters, so it wasn't totally foreign to me. But looking around the rest of the room, it was obvious that Ann's Dad was not a casual hunter.

The family room looked like Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom; dead edition. I'm sure that line came to my head in part because the curator of the contents of this odd collection shared the first name of Marlin. There were antlers, and skins, and all kinds of animals that had been stuffed. I turned my attention back to the gun case, staring at the weapons locked behind the glass.