Jessie & The Tornado Ch. 04

Again, I suggest reading the first three chapters before beginning this one. Also, I want to emphasize that if you are expecting a story with non-stop sex, then you will be disappointed.

*

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I did was check my car. Jessie's purse was gone. I had already noticed that her car was not in the driveway of her parent's house, and one of her parent's cars was also missing.

I tried calling her cell phone over and over, but she never answered. I left a number of messages begging her to call.

Now, all I could do was wait. Had she and her parents gone somewhere? Then why were two cars missing? I paced back and forth from one end of my house to the other for hours, like a caged lion.

Finally, finally I saw her parent's car pulling into their driveway. It was a just a little after noon.

Her parents got out of the car, but there was no Jessie.

I started walking across my yard over to theirs. When her mother, Gloria, saw me she walked over and gave me a hug.

To say I was surprised would be an understatement. I knew we were good neighbors, but not exactly what you would call best friends or anything. We always waved at each other, and often spoke to each other, mostly "Hi, how's it going?"

I had attended a couple of neighborhood functions, and it seemed like Winston, Gloria and I would usually end up sitting together but that was really just social.

"Oh Sam, Jessie is so confused right now. Won't you come over and have some coffee or tea so we can talk," she offered.

Over the course of the next two hours, I found out a lot more about Jessie.

Gloria said when Jessie came in late last night, she was crying so hard she woke her Mom up.

"At first, well . . . I thought you had done something," she said, a little sheepishly. "But when I started to say something about you, Jessie got mad at me and started defending you. Then she told me it was something she did, not you."

Over the next couple of hours, Gloria and Jessie talked. With a lot of tears thrown in.

"Sam, when she was talking about dinner and dancing . . . Sam I haven't seen her smile that much since John Bennett died. Actually, since even before that. "Did you know she and John Bennett were having problems, and almost called the wedding off?"

I was stunned.

"No, she never told me that," I said.

"It was just a couple of days before the wedding; Jessie told me she wasn't sure if she still loved John. She didn't know if she could go through with the wedding.

"Then John was killed. Did you know they had a terrible argument that night, and John left very angry?"

I shook my head.

"A few hours later he was dead . . . and Jessie blamed herself. As the weeks went by, she seemed to forget about all her misgivings. Now . . . well now John Bennett was her one true love, and they had never had any problems.

"Jessie just couldn't accept that the argument might have been responsible for his death so, at least in her mind, the argument never happened.

"What really happened was that John was shot during a bungled robbery at a convenience store. The argument had nothing to do with it. But deep inside, Jessie still blamed herself."

"Did she ever have counseling?" I asked.

"One session, and then she said that was a waste of time and money," Gloria answered. "She never went back. Somehow she managed to repress her fears and anger. At least until last night."

"She told me what happened last night. How she first cried out your name, then John's. It shook her to her very core. Did she love you, did she love John?

"But I think somewhere, way in the back of her mind, she was also thinking that if she actually didn't love John, did that mean she didn't really love you?"

"Gloria, I had no idea. I should never have let it get that far. We pushed too far, too fast," I started.

"Sam, in the past month or so I have seen Jessie come back alive. She calls me nearly every day, and I can tell you she has been happier this past month than I can ever remember.

"She also told me that last night . . . well she said she not only wanted it to happen, but needed it to happen. She needed that contact, that closeness with someone else.

"Unfortunately, her memories got in the way."

"Gloria, do you think Jessie would agree to see the same counselor I saw, after my wife's death?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe. Perhaps if she knew you had suggested it. Sam, Jessie is really crazy about you. Maybe she might agree if it comes from you."

Jessie woke up Sunday morning before 6 am, and told her mom she was going back to Athens because she couldn't face me. Gloria knew she was in no shape to drive by herself, so Winston drove Jessie's car, and Jessie rode with her mom back to Athens.

We talked a little while longer, then I returned home where I started looking for my counselor's business card. I finally found it, and luckily it included her cell number.

After I got her on the phone, I tried to explain.

"Look, Dr. Andrews, I have a situation, and I really need to talk to you about it. I know it is Sunday afternoon, but is there any way we can talk?" I asked.

"Sam, I am in Athens," she said.

"Umm, Athens, Greece, or Athens, Georgia?"

"Athens, Georgia," she laughed, "I could never afford Athens, Greece on what the county pays me to meet with you stoic firemen and policemen."

I knew that wasn't true. Dr. Andrews had a successful private practice, but also contracted with the county to provide counseling to any county employee who needed it, at reduced rates. Dr. Andrews explained that she was in Athens filling in for her old psychology professor. He had just had a quadruple bypass, and would be out for about a month.

"Look, Doc, this has nothing to do with the county, and I will pay your regular rates if I can just tell you what is going on. If you can help, I'll also pay your regular rates for that."

"Okay, Sam, why don't you start at the beginning," she finally agreed.

"Well, about a six weeks ago I was pulling weeds out of one of my flower beds when I heard someone yell, 'Look out.' I jumped up just in time to be knocked flat on my face by a soccer ball . . . . . . Then last night she whispered, 'Leave me alone, Sam, just leave me alone."

I had been talking for almost two solid hours, with just a few questions from Dr. Andrews.

I also told her about my conversation with Jessie's mom, and that Gloria thought Jessie might agree to meet with someone if she knew the suggestion came from me.

"Doc, she is in her dorm room. Do you think you could call her and see if she will see you? This is really important to me, Doc."

"I'll call her, Sam, but if she says no, then there's nothing I can do," said Dr. Andrews.

Dr. Andrews had said she would call me back, and 30 minutes later she did.

"Well, that was an interesting conversation. As soon as I told her who I was and that I was a psychologist, I thought she was going to cuss me out, then hang up. She did cuss me out, but before she could hang up I managed to say the magic word," she explained.

"Magic word? You mean 'please,'" I asked.

"No, I mean the magic word 'Sam,' as in Sam asked me to call. Sam is very, very worried about you.

"She just whispered your name, 'Sam? Sam asked you to call? Sam is worried?' Then she started crying.

"I am on my way now to her dorm room. I thought she might feel a little more comfortable there, than in this motel. I'll call you later, okay?"

I figured it would take a couple of hours to hear back, so I left to get something to eat.

Came back and waited and waited and waited. Two hours, three hours, four hours and I am pacing back and forth like a madman.

Finally, five hours later, my phone rings.

"What an extraordinary young woman you have there, Sam," Dr. Andrews began. "I went over planning on spending maybe an hour, and ended up spending nearly five hours."

"Well, Doc, what can you tell me. I am dying to know how it went," I confessed.

"Of course, I can't really discuss too much, due to doctor-patient confidentiality rules, but I can tell you some things," she said. "And the first thing I can tell you is that she was scared to death, absolutely terrified that you now hate her."

"Hate her? Doc, I lov-LIKE her. Like her a lot."

Oh crap, did I nearly tell my psychologist that I thought I was in love with someone I had barely known for just over a month, and had actually only seen three times? She would probably think I was the one who was crazy and needed counseling!

"Sam, you know of course I have a degree in psychiatry, but did you know I also minored in English?" she asked.

"Um, no," I answered.

"I just bring this up to let you know that I am not familiar with that word you just used."

"What word?" I asked.

"Luv-like? I must confess I haven't heard that one before," she said, and I could hear the laughter in her voice.

"Yes, well, that means that I really, really like her . . . a lot!" I answered, and could feel my face turning red.

"Are you blushing Sam?" she asked, and again I could hear the laughter in her voice. "Hey, it's alright Sam. I may be an old lady now, but I remember what it felt like to be young and in love. My husband and I had known each other all of two weeks when we got married. And that was 35 years ago."

"How . . . how is she Doc? I've got to know, I'm dying here," I implored her.

"She is going to be fine Sam. FINE! It's just going to take a little time," she answered. "I meant it when I said she is an extraordinary woman. So strong in some areas, so . . . well confused in others.

"But between us Sam, between you, me and her . . . she is going to be fine.

"Do you have any idea how much she likes . . . luv-likes you?" and again I could hear the laughter in her voice. "It's just going to take a little while. She still has some issues from her past she is finally now beginning to deal with.

"I learned a lot about her in those five hours. I also read every one of the e-mails the two of you wrote each other! That was the most fun I have had in years!"

I could feel my face turning red again, "You read all . . . ALL our e-mails?"

"Yes, and she also told me all about you, Obediah! What a dirty trick to play on her. But I know she is really excited about showing you her bikini now! Once I convinced her you didn't hate her."

I think my face turned even redder.

"She, uhh, told you about that?" I asked.

"Yes, she did. Oh, and talking about your e-mails reminds me of something.

"You said you are going to pay for all these counseling sessions, so you need to understand my rate fee. You know I have one rate I charge the county, and a separate rate I charge my private clients?"

"Yes," I said.

"Well I am going to have a new, special premium rate I only charge people who make endless, juvenile jokes about my beloved alma mater. You do know I graduated from the University of Georgia don't you?"

"Oh, shit, I mean crap," I stumbled along, "Look, Doc, I didn't know that . . . but at least it explains something."

"Explains what?" she asked.

"Since you graduated from UGA, it explains why you didn't know the word 'luv-like,'" I said.

Dr. Andrews actually laughed out loud.

"Why Sam Baker, that is going to cost you even more money! By the time I am finished with you and Jessie . . . why I will be able to afford plane tickets to Athens, Greece after all."

"Doc, and I mean this, if you can help Jessie . . . then I will buy you and your husband round-trip, first class tickets to Athens, Greece," I declared.

"I may just hold you to that, Sam," she said.

"When can I see her, Doc?" I asked. "I'd like to drive over tonight if I could."

"Give it a week or two Sam. Jessie is to meet with me Monday, Wednesday and Friday of this week, and the same next week.

"Can you wait two weeks?" she asked.

"If I have to," I said, and I knew she could hear the disappointment in my voice.

"Can I write her?" I asked.

"Of course Sam, and I know she would love to read anything you write. Just kind of go a little easy on the 'luv-like' part. I mean you can tell her how you feel, but concentrate a little more on the 'like' part, and a little less on the 'luv' part. I mean you can tell her you love her, in fact I think that would be wonderful for her to hear, but maybe not quite yet."

"Thank you Doc. I mean THANK YOU so much," I said.

"Goodnight Sam."

"Goodnight Doc."

Within 30 seconds I was Googling a song, then within another minute or so I was writing.

My Dearest, Dearest Jessie,

There is an old song I heard many, many years ago. It was very sad, because it was talking about someone who thought he had lost the most important thing in his life.

The song was by a guy named Charlie Rich, and part of the lyrics are:

'Hey, did you happen to see

The most beautiful girl in the world?

And if you did, was she crying, crying?

Hey, if you happen to see

The most beautiful girl that walked out on me,

Tell her, "I'm sorry."

Tell her, "I need my baby."

Oh . . . Won't you tell her that I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .'

And if you want to know what I want to tell you, then you will have to Google the song and listen to it.

Oh, Jessie, I am so sorry.

I feel so responsible for what happened.

As much as I wanted to be with you last night,

And believe me, I WANTED to very much,

I should have realized it was just a little too much, too soon, too fast.

At times I can't believe that we have known each other for barely over a month.

And that yesterday morning was actually only the second time I have ever seen you in person, and last night only the third.

Can YOU forgive me Jessie?

Tell her, "I'm sorry."

Tell her, "I need my baby."

Oh . . . Won't you tell her that I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Your friend, and more than friend,

Samuel Obediah

XOXO

P.S. That reminds me. I have always heard that deforestation is a terrible thing. But now that I know you have undergone your personal deforestation (Big, BIG Grin), I can't wait until I can see you in your bikini!

I hit send, then waited. I knew it usually only took Jessie a few minutes to respond. I waited . . . and waited . . . and waited.

I glanced at the clock and realized, to my shock, it was nearly midnight.

Let's see, it was after nine pm when Dr. Andrews called back, and we probably talked for an hour. Then I wrote the e-mail to Jessie, which I probably sent about 10:15.

Jessie was probably already in bed. From what her mother had said I knew she had barely gotten any sleep last night, and today had to be really emotional for her.

Crap! I had been waiting for nearly an hour-and-a-half and she was asleep all this time.

I was just starting to turn the computer off when I heard, "Ping." I knew I had mail. Then, quickly, "Ping," "Ping," Ping," and more "Pings." Altogether I had 14 e-mails!

I opened the first one.

My Dearest, and I mean Dearest Sam,

I loved the song.

The only change I would make would be:

Tell HIM, "I'm sorry."

Tell HIM, "I need my MAN!"

Oh . . . Won't you tell HIM "I . . . love him."

Now I am crying again, dammit!

Sam, I am the one who needs to apologize.

I felt like such a fool. And I knew you probably never wanted to talk to me again, and probably would hate me forever.

When Dr. Andrews called, at first I thought my parents had made her call, but when she said that you had asked, that you were worried and concerned about me . . . Sam I just broke down completely.

Sam, she made things so easy for me to understand. I had been fooling myself for so long.

She told me I can't see you for at least a week. It will be the longest week of my life. I don't even want to think about it perhaps being two weeks.

But we can write. I can't believe you still want to write to me.

Oh, I had better warn you. She said she is really going to make you pay for all the University of Georgia jokes, since she is a graduate of UGA. Not sure HOW exactly she is going to make you pay, but watch your backside.

I have got to end this quickly because my roommate is already so mad at me she may never talk to me again. First, all day long I have done nothing but cry and wouldn't tell her why. Then when Dr. Andrews came over I kicked her out. After I got your e-mail, I have been running around like a totally crazy person.

Tell me Sam, do Marines think about ANYTHING other than girls in bikinis? That is, other than getting them OUT of bikinis?

Tell me please, that's ALL they think about? I still remember when my Mom told me there really wasn't a Santa Claus. I was so disappointed. Don't destroy my one remaining dream, that Marines are ALWAYS thinking about girls in bikinis, and then getting them OUT of bikinis?

After your e-mail, I took a quick shower, then made my roommate blow dry my hair and help me style it. Then I made her help me with my makeup. She was complaining about how tired she was the entire time.

While I was getting dressed, she actually went to bed and fell asleep, so I had to make her get up and take pictures.

I hope you don't have ANY trouble falling asleep tonight (evil grin!) Wonder what you are going to be dreaming about?

Your friend now and always (and I hope soon a lot more than friend)

Love,

Jessie

I have to admit it was with some trepidation that I clicked on the second e-mail.

Just what had she sent me?

Oh. My. God!

The entire screen was filled with a picture of one single breast, barely covered by about a single square inch of almost translucent cloth. I could see how hard Jessie's nipple was in the picture and could almost taste it in my mouth.

The next email had a picture of her other breast, again with a tiny little square of cloth that barely covered the nipple.

Next came a picture was of her ripped stomach. You could see the individual muscles. To tell you the truth, I hadn't really noticed that the night before.

The fourth picture was from the navel to just above her thighs. There MIGHT have been two or three inches of cloth there. I mean it BARELY covered what it was supposed to cover. Yes, you would DEFINITELY have to have a complete wax job to wear that.

The fifth picture was from the waist down her incredible long legs.

The sixth picture was of her butt. My God, a thong bikini, and the thong was, again, a tiny little strap between her two butt cheeks.

I have to confess that by now I was a little uncomfortable, and had to start wiggling a little to relieve the pressure.

The seventh picture was a back shot, from her waist down to what must have been six inch heels. Do woman have ANY idea what high heels do to a woman's legs? How it drives men crazy?

The eighth picture was a full shot of Jessie from behind, looking over her shoulder at the camera.

The ninth picture was similar, but now she was bent over with her butt stuck out even more.

I think I was salivating. It was all I could do not to lick my computer screen.

The tenth picture was a full frontal view of Jessie in her bikini, with her hair perfectly done and makeup applied. Of course it took me a minute or two (or more) to raise my eyes that far up! Hey, I'm a guy!

My God, she is stunningly beautiful! And sexy!

The eleventh picture was again taken from behind, about a three-quarters view, only this time Jessie is not leaning forward quite so much. She is looking back at the camera, and holding the top of her bikini in one hand. Her other arm is across her chest and she is cupping her breast in her hand.