Distribution Ch. 12

It was ten days before Paige called again.

"Brian, where are you?"

"I'm out by the barn."

"Good, you're back. I can be on the three-thirty if you would like to pick me up?" she asked, disregarding the significance of my being 'out by the barn.' It was obvious that she assumed that I'd returned from spending Thanksgiving with my family.

"I'll be there," I answered.

"See you then," she said, ending the call before I could find out how she was able to get away on Thursday afternoon instead of the customary later bus on Friday.

I'm sure that Matthew Dawkins was happy to see me leave my 'observation post,' which I'd occupied since he started the job of squaring up the barn the day after Thanksgiving. I practically ran to the house, shaved and showered, changed the bed and had time to tidy the house before meeting the three-thirty bus.

I was nervous as hell, and I could tell that Paige was nervous, too. We hardly spoke on the way to the house, grinning sheepishly at one another; both wondering what was going through the other's mind.

She paid no attention to the snowflakes hitting the windshield, nor did she comment about the bus parked in back of the house. If she noticed the men and equipment that surrounded the barn, she didn't comment. Her heavy coat was unbuttoned before she reached the back door then she turned and dropped it to the floor as soon as we were inside the house. I dropped the small case she'd brought just in time to brace myself as she leapt into my arms.

It happened so quickly that I didn't file it away to replay later. One second, her tongue was reaching for my tonsils, and the next, she was racing up the stairs, shedding her clothes along the way. I followed, still dazed by her strange behavior.

I barely noticed how chilly it was in the room as I hurriedly stripped and joined her between the sheets. My attempts to lick her pussy were cut short by a painful tug on my hair. She didn't need to tell me what she wanted. From the way the lips of her pussy glistened, she'd been ready for some time.

Mrs. Paige Kindle was impatient, insistent, and demanding. She reached for my cock and stuffed the entire length into her opening without a hitch. Thinking she needed a few seconds to adjust to the intrusion, I remained still. Her groan told me that she didn't need any time, and I quickly found myself on my back, being fucked by a mad woman.

It took me a minute to realize the enormity of the maneuver. The widowed mother of two had exhibited incredible strength with a move that would have scored points on any wrestling mat, regardless of the weight class.

She was definitely having her way with me. Being used agreed with me. I took in the sights and sounds for future reference. The way her lips were set in a determined expression, the beads of sweat forming on her forehead, the way her breasts rolled like buoys on a choppy sea, the way the bedsprings complained, combined with Paige's halted breathing, and the sound of the distant jackhammer as it loosened the field stones of the old barn foundation were memories we'd tell our grandchildren about some day.

She suddenly stopped bouncing and a smile came to her lips as I released my cum deep within her. She collapsed on me, laughing as she strained to catch her breath.

We made love for the rest of the day. It was long after dark when we became hungry and went downstairs to get something to eat. That's when Paige heard the guys in the bus. She gave me a puzzled look. "I didn't think they were going to be here until the middle of next month?"

I brought her up to date while she cooked, making bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast.

"The contractor called to say there had been a change to his schedule and he would be here the day after Thanksgiving. I agreed to have that antique car out of his way, and that's when the fun started. The car was up on blocks, minus the wheels and the tires. The guy that bought the car had already paid for it and as far as he was concerned, he had two more weeks before it had to be moved. He was not inclined to forego the holiday with his family until I told him I was missing Thanksgiving with my family also. I pleaded with him, and he agreed to fly out here and take possession of his purchase if I would find the wheels and tires.

"They still make the tires, but the wheels are a different story."

Paige interrupted me. "You didn't go? Amanda and Phillip must have been crushed. I wonder why Amanda didn't tell Mona. They still exchange email almost every day."

I shook my head. "Fortunately, I hadn't said anything to the kids. They didn't expect me to come home."

I watched her rush to me. "Honey, I feel so sad that you didn't go home," she said as her body melted into mine and our kiss nearly got away from us. If it hadn't been for the sound bacon makes when the heat is turned up too high, we would have started all over again right there on the kitchen floor. She broke away, started back to the stove, and turning, said. "Why didn't you call me? I would have come to help you."

"I wasn't the only one that missed out on spending the day with my family. I checked the ads on the internet with no luck. Everyplace I called had just sold the wheels they'd advertised. It was the same with Mackey's automobile magazines. Most of the dealers weren't sure what they had. They invited me to look around and see if I saw what I wanted. I didn't know what the wheels looked like. Charlie came to my rescue. He suggested that the spare tire may still be in the trunk. It was, and we spent two days driving from salvage yard to salvage yard trying to match the spare wheel. As a result, he missed having Thanksgiving dinner with his daughter and her family."

Paige turned the burner off and came back to me. "I wish you had let me know. It could have been me riding with you for those two days. I take it that you were successful?"

"We found three wheels that matched the spare at a place in western Connecticut. It was late on Wednesday night. I called Mr. Avila and told him we were on the way back. He flew here from the west coast on his private plane the next day. I picked him up in Hyannis and it was late on Thursday when we loaded the car on the truck. The trucker took off and we ended up having our Thanksgiving dinner right here. Mr. Avila and Charlie got along great."

"What did you make for them to eat?" Paige asked, watching me, mischievously

"Scrambled eggs," I answered. "They were nothing like the eggs you make, but I opened a bottle of wine and we roughed it. I drove Mr. Avila back to the airport. He laughed about how much that car was costing him. A few days later I got a check in the mail for the tires and wheels I'd paid for."

"Do you have another bottle for us to have with these eggs?" she asked as she brought our two plates to the table. I did.

We smiled at each other as we ate, talking about everything except the main topic that was on our minds.

"The contractor and his men showed up about noon on Friday. They parked that converted bus next to the house so they could use our electricity, and then they went to work on the barn. They work long hours and raise hell for about an hour before they retire for the night. Matthew Dawkins expects perfection, but he takes good care of his men. He feeds them well and gives them time off between jobs."

I brought her up to date on how well Miss Adams' articles about Mackey were being received. I also told her about Nancy Dickens' charges that I was incompetent. We laughed together until Paige became enraged.

"She had no idea what you've been doing, how well you've performed or the sacrifices you've made to squeeze every dime out of this estate."

"She was pissed that there was to be no distribution until after the barn is finished. She seemed to think that I'd squandered what could have been a lucrative book by giving Miss Adams the story."

"I can't wait to have a word with that little bitch," Paige spat out.

"She needs to be made aware that prices of the junk from the attic have skyrocketed because of Miss Adams' articles. Townspeople are willing to pay anything for a piece of history."

"Let me at her. I'll make her aware," Paige said, but when I laughed she had to grin back at me.

We were in bed, holding each other, when she began to explain why she'd returned. "I told you that this thing between us isn't going anywhere, but I'm not sure I believed it. I was still holding out for something to change to make it possible for there to be more. It's not going to happen. We're from different worlds. I've come to terms with that, and I've decided to make the most of what is left of the time we have together. That's all it was to be from the beginning. As things progressed, it became harder and harder to give up on you."

"What changed?" I asked, thinking I knew the answer, but wanting to hear it from her.

"You touched me deeply," she responded.

I held her close and whispered in her ear, "I did get in deep a couple of times, didn't I?"

Paige stiffened, and pulled away, placing a hand on my chest to create distance between us. "What's wrong?" I asked.

She wouldn't answer.

"What's wrong?" I repeated.

"Not that, silly, you touched my heart," she said, becoming silent, still keeping distance between our bodies.

What a buffoon I'd been. Did I dare tell her that I loved her? Was it too late? "Don't you know what you mean to me? You've touched my heart, too."

That may not have been exactly what she wanted to hear, but it did the trick. She moved back to me, and we went to sleep that way.

We awoke to the sound of the jackhammer. "Don't they ever stop?" Paige complained.

"I told you they work long hours. They should finish by the middle of the month."

"Is that when you plan on leaving?"

"I'll be back. We need to select a realtor and put the house on the market."

"And then your work will be done?"

"Paige, it doesn't have to be that way. We'll find a way to be together."

"There's no way and you know it. You have obligations to your children and you have a business to run. It's the same with me. My parents need me to be near."

This was turning into an argument and we hadn't had breakfast yet. The jackhammer was giving me a headache. "Can we drop the subject for now?"

"Yes, we can," she said, attempting a smile.

After breakfast, we went outside and I introduced Paige to Matthew Dawkins. He explained the process of raising the structure off of its foundation, although he didn't go into detail about the meticulous way he'd checked his level as the jacks lifted the building a fraction of an inch at a time.

I remarked that the jack hammering had stopped. Matthew told us that the next step would be placing the forms for the new foundation to be poured. "We take it slow because working under the building is dangerous. One wrong move and we'll have a disaster," he said.

Paige thanked the contractor, and I suggested that we take a walk on the beach. She wore her heavy coat and I put on a sweater under the jacket we'd bought the night we attended the Red Sox game.

Paige let out a shriek the second she spotted Gordon McMahan. "You brought me this way on purpose, didn't you? You knew he was here," she accused, her voice one octave above its normal tone.

Mr. McMahan was wearing a stocking cap and an orange vest over a yellow rain slicker. The city workmen were resurfacing one lane of the road, and there was not another car in sight. Gordon raised his hand, signaling me to stop. I rolled the window down as he approached the car.

"Do you have business on this road, Sir?" he asked in his official flagman's voice.

"Does your mother approve of you being outside in this weather, Gordon?"

"Answer my question," he demanded in a stern voice.

"Mrs. Kindle and I decided to hold our weekly meeting on the beach. The contractor is making too much noise for us to meet at the gazebo. We have some important issues to discuss. You don't think the seagulls will eavesdrop, do you?"

"You may proceed on your way, Sir."

"Miss Dickens indicated that you are joining her in a lawsuit against me. Do you share her belief that I'm incompetent, Mr. McMahan?"

Gordon McMahan took one step backward and repeated, "You may proceed on your way, Sir."

Paige was out of her seatbelt and beating on me the moment we were out of sight of the roadwork. I'd never seen her so excited. Her fists pounded my chest and shoulder until I parked the truck and wrapped my arms around her.

"You're mean and you're despicable," she said between kisses. It was several minutes before she tired and tucked her cheek next to mine.

"You seem to be extremely excited. Was it me, or was it Gordon that affected you that way?"

In a quiet, calm voice, she continued. "It's you. I love the way you excite me. I love the way we make love. You're gentle and caring. I love being with you. I'll always remember our time together."

We walked the beach for an hour. We laughed and hugged, and stopped to gaze out at the sea. I tried to return to the subject of what Paige 'loved' about me, but she had another serious matter to discuss.

"I cleaned out the cookie jar the last time I was here. We need to decide how we want to go about getting some money."

"I have the check Mr. Avila sent. It's for one thousand dollars. I only spent a little over six hundred," I offered.

"That's your money. We need to work out a way to charge the estate," she said.

It was decided that we would write expense reports. The trouble was that we had not saved receipts for our expenditures, nor could we remember the exact dates and the amounts. We didn't let that bother us. I phoned Mrs. Nixon and asked her to send a summary of the credit charges I'd made since I'd been here. We were able to calculate Paige's transportation expenses, making sure that the dates coincided with our meeting notes. Otherwise, we pulled random amounts out of the air. Once we'd included everything we could think of, I wrote checks on the estate, included the expense reports with the financial statement, and dropped it off at the judge's office on our way to the bank.

With a new supply of cash in the cookie jar, we went shopping. We bought gifts for our kids, a heavy coat for me, and I took Paige to dinner.

That set the trend for the coming weeks that led up to Christmas. We didn't make reference to the short time we were to have together or count the days. Paige avoided the subject of what she 'loved' about me, and when she became melancholy, shopping for more gifts became her way of ridding her mind of the feeling. We also made time for the friends we'd made.

Squaring up the barn took two weeks longer to complete than was originally estimated.

Paige called on Friday, December the thirteenth. "You're still there!" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"They have another week before they finish. There have been complications. Are you coming?"

After a few seconds of silence, she said she would call when she knew what time she would be there. I wasn't sure if she was happy or sad about me still being there, but when she got off the bus there was no mistaking her glee. There was no mistaking the long embrace and kiss she gave me. She was definitely happy.

We had one more weekend together. It was Tuesday, December the twenty-fourth when Matthew Dawkins knocked on the back door. Paige went to the door, saw it was him, and looked ashen as she fled the room. Matthew pronounced the job complete, asking me if I wanted to do a final inspection before we settled up.

I heard the bus and other equipment being started as I shook my head. I'd been expecting him. I wrote the check, shook hands with Mr. Dawkins, and ran upstairs to assure Paige that I'd be back. She had recovered, not completely, but she was putting on a good show of being in high spirits.

She said that she would help me load my truck and that I could drop her off at the bus station. I put my foot down, saying that we needed to tell our friends that we were leaving and that I would drive her home. "You're stubborn. That's one of the things I love about you," she said, accepting my way of doing things.

She called Janice and Nadine while I went next door to give Charlie a key to the house. We had everything packed and were ready to leave when I decided to leave a message to let the judge know I'd be away for a time. To my surprise, Judge Lockwood answered her own phone.

"You take all the time you need, Mr. Driver," she said.

"Thank you, I should be back in a week to select a realtor."

"Mr. Driver, I thought your expense reports were very reasonable. Are you sure that you and Ms. Kindle have been fairly compensated."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I hope you didn't take that silly librarian's assistant seriously. She had no basis for those outlandish charges. I spoke to her and set her straight."

"Thanks again, Ma'am," I said.

"Have a safe and enjoyable trip, and you'll let me know when you get back, won't you?"

I told her I would and we said goodbye.

"I kept telling you that you had nothing to worry about," Paige said when I told her what the judge had said.

We kept the conversation light on the way to Boston, but she expressed concern when it started to snow. I only stayed at the Peoples' home long enough to say hello to everyone. Mrs. Peoples said she understood that I had a long drive ahead of me. Paige explained the best way to head west.

We said goodbye at the door. I was dismayed at her reluctance to kiss me or follow me to my truck. I was well on my way before it came to me; she didn't want to show affection for me in front of her kids. However, the tears welling up in her eyes said everything.

Other than the weather slowing me down, the trip was uneventful. The constant swish of the windshield wipers made it hard for me to stay awake. I stopped for coffee and trudged on, arriving at home very early the next morning. Mary came out of her room, saying that she'd been expecting me.

Mary urged me to go to bed, but she had to admit that she didn't know where I would be comfortable. She'd given my bed to my sister and her boyfriend.

I did feel tired, and considered finding a place to sack out until the kids came downstairs and discovered that I had arrived. Their enthusiasm kept me awake all day.

It had been three years since I'd seen my sister. Ginny had grown up, been widowed and become a school teacher. We had a lot of catching up to do, but she knew that I first had to let the kids monopolize the day. Randy, her boyfriend, was an engaging fellow and it was obvious that they were crazy about each other.

Amanda and Phillip were excited about the gifts I'd brought for them, but they were mainly interested in sitting in my lap and asking me questions, mainly if I really had to go back and how long I would stay. I told them we would go shopping for school clothes.

Mary prepared a big meal. Friends and business associates showed up with gifts for the kids. It was great to be home. I wondered how Paige's day was going.

With my room being occupied by Randy and Ginny, I alternated nights sleeping on a blow-up mattress in my son's and daughter's rooms.

Once the kids had their fill of me, I was able to spend time with Ginny and Randy. I took them on tours of my business and my adopted town.

Henrietta was her usual crusty self, but under her brittle outer shell, her greeting was warm and gentle. Randy watched us trade barbs, each boasting about our sexual prowess until he caught on to our ruse.

I guided the conversation to Mark Leach and his involvement with my former girlfriend. At first Henrietta was reluctant to talk in front of Randy, but she opened up when he informed her that his mother had married the father of the Leach brothers. Randy alluded to the brothers' affinity for screwing each others' girlfriends. We discussed the possibility that the brothers were both screwing Marian. We even speculated that both men were screwing Max's wife. Randy recalled that Mark had a bigger cock than his brother, and that it was always a matter of concern that the girlfriend would notice the difference.