My Last Summer Romance Pt. 01

The following is a true story of a life changing summer romance. It has all the elements of a Literotica story, but it is first and foremost a romance. If you are looking for sex on every page, I suggest looking for another story to read. If you want to read about a man who found summer romance and true love in the autumn of his life, then please read on.

Chapter 1: Run Up to the Summer of 2010

When I think back 40 or so years, to when I was in high school and college, the times I remember with the most fondness and melancholy are the summers. Each summer was marked by an all-consuming romance. In my early teens, these romances were nothing more than "puppy-love", but as I grew older, they had the passion and intensity that only a teenager juiced up on raging hormones could muster. I ached to spend every waking hour with the object of my affection. Nothing could compare to sense of well-being that these relationships gave me. Over the course of the summer, I found out everything I could about her. We were a perfect fit. Nothing could ever come between us. I knew with unwavering certainty that this romance was the love-of-a-lifetime.

...but each year, the endless summer days shortened as autumn drew near. With autumn came the return to "real life". My love and I would be off to different schools, to different towns and to different lives. Each fall, as separation loomed, we promised that we would write to each other and that our love could weather the separation, but the noble promises rarely survived one or two feeble attempts to keep the flames of the summer romance fanned.

Sometimes (not very often) after the summer was over and we had resumed our normal lives, I would visit my summer lover. These visits were always a disappointment and only confirmed that summer lives (and loves) are very different from normal lives. We discovered that we did not have much in common, after all. Our friends, activities and interests were so different that, absent the commonality of summer, we had very little to share.

Eventually, reality set in and sadly, I recognized that the love-of-a-lifetime was over. To this day, however, I have each name inscribed on my heart. Regina, Naomi, Carol, Susan, Karen and Sally are names that will live with me forever, because these were my summer loves.

Even now, some 40 years removed from those carefree days, I still feel sadness and loss as summer turns to fall. I think of my summer romances and of the thousands of young people whose romances will soon be over despite valiant efforts to keep them alive. To this day, I feel the loss that they will soon feel.

...but that is in the past...or is it?

My name is Dennis Johnson, a 58-year-old man from Minnesota. I own a business, which provides consulting services to new and struggling businesses. It is true that I own the business, but I am the only employee. My staff is made up entirely of independent contractors who work out of their homes. This means that my business office is anywhere I happen to be, and with the ubiquitousness of wireless internet, that often means sitting on a park bench with my computer while people (girl) watching.

I divorced my wife, Julia, 15 years ago after our only son, Brien, turned 18. I grew tired of the way she babied him. At the rate he was going, he would be a dependent on Mommy and Daddy for years to come. Ever since Brien was born, Julia and I dreamed about traveling after Brien "left the nest". The dream faded with every dollar the kid squandered. He was (and still is) his mommy's baby boy and dependent upon her for almost everything.

As the time and distance from my domineering wife and needy son grew, so did my fortune. I took care of them, beyond even what the divorce court ordered, but not in the lifestyle that they would have liked. As a result, I was an outcast in my own family.

I have not had a romance (summer or otherwise) since my divorce. I have had sexual partners, just no romances. Last spring all that changed, and at 57 years old, romance again entered my life. To understand the story of this summer romance, it is necessary to go back about seven years, to the middle of a Minnesota winter.

Just before Christmas that year, I was surprised to read an article in the local newspaper announcing Brien's engagement to Tatiana Lakova, a woman from Russia. I figured some Russian babe was trying to get a permanent visa to stay in the USA and Brien was her ticket, but, since he was an adult, and would not take any advice if I offered it, it was none of my business.

I got another surprise when Tatiana called me one day soon after the first of the year and asked me if we could go out to dinner to get to know each other. She said that Brien was not interested in coming, but she felt it was important for us to become acquainted.

I was intrigued but suspicious; if she had ulterior motives in marrying Brien, she did not need to strike up a relationship with me. Still, she may have discovered that I was well off and could be using this opportunity to kill two birds with one stone: get her green card by marrying Brien, and build up a nest egg by getting friendly with me.

I did not know if she drove or not (hell, I did not know anything about her), so I suggested an upscale, quiet restaurant near her apartment.

When the date came for us to meet for the first time, I dressed business casual: starched white shirt with no tie, blue blazer and khaki slacks. I arrived a little early and while I waited, I tried to figure out what to talk about. If she wanted to buy business-consulting services, I would have had no problem, but this was my future daughter-in-law. Not only did I not know what to say, I was not convinced that this was not a set-up for a swindle.

When she walked into the dining room, I knew immediately it was Tatiana. When we talked on the phone, she said would be wearing a red dress. As the maître de directed her to our table, I took stock of the woman who would marry my son. She had a very pretty face and brown hair cut fairly short. She carried herself with confidence, and even though she was slightly overweight, the dress was a perfect style for her shape. It showed a lot of cleavage, but not enough to be "trashy".

She appeared to be very tall, much taller than Brien was. As she came around a table, I noticed the four-inch heels that gave her additional height and made her legs and ass look very nice.

She was attractive, but in a few years, if she were not careful, she would look like a Russian Babushka (just as wide as tall). I could not help smiling to myself thinking about how Brien would take it when her weight ballooned.

I stood as she arrived. She offered her hand and introduced herself as Tatiana Lakova. I took it, and in the style of the Europeans, kissed the back of her hand and introduced myself. She had a distinctive Russian accent, but it was very easy to listen to and understand; even a simple introduction sounded special.

After we sat down, I told her that her English was better than most of the other people in Minnesota. She laughed and I was enchanted. If this woman was genuine, she was far too cultured for my son. If she was playing a con, she was very good.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson. I studied English since I was a child, and then I watched as much American TV as I could. I have always wanted to come to the USA and try it out with real Americans."

Somewhere in the back of my head, an alarm bell went off, but I pressed on.

"Please, call me Dennis or Denny."

"What do other people call you?"

"Most people call me Dennis, but I was known as Denny when I was young."

"Then I would like to call you Denny, if it is alright with you."

A flashing sign that read "Caution" joined the alarm bell.

As I signaled the waiter, I said, "That suits me. Just don't call me what Brien's mother calls me: 'That miserable Son of a Bitch'."

As the waiter arrived at the table, I asked what she wanted to drink.

"Some wine, please?"

I am not a wine connoisseur, so I played it safe and ordered a bottle of the house wine, a Cabernet Sauvignon. When he brought it, we went through the tasting ritual, poured two glasses and left. "So tell me Tatiana, what brought you to the United States?"

"As I said, I have always wanted to visit here. I got the chance through a graduate exchange program between the University of Minnesota and Moscow State University. I was so excited when I got my visa. I came here last year and can remain in the United States as I am a part of the program."

"What sort of program is it?"

"When I finish, I will have an MBA in International Business. If I stick with it, I will be done in another year."

The sign in my head just upgraded to "Danger".

"You certainly run in different circles than Brien, how did you meet?"

"I honestly cannot tell you. My group of friends always seemed to go to the same places as Brien's group. I talked to him several times before I even knew his name. Then one evening we introduced ourselves and then started seeking each other out at the parties we attended. Finally, about six months ago, we went out for a real date, and we just clicked."

The alarm bells persisted, but the "Danger" sign in my head downgraded back to "Caution".

"What qualities attracted you to him?"

"Hmmm...well, I am sure you know that Brien is a little....well....excuse me for saying this, Mr. Johnson...ah, Denny. Brien is a little socially challenged. When he is with his friends, he is quite animated, but when he is around women, especially strong women, he is very shy. When we talked, he was so polite and attentive. I think he is quite a Mama's boy, but if he can tear himself away from her and start focusing on a wife and maybe a family, he will come out from her shadow and be a dynamic man."

She looked into her wine and then looked me straight in the eye. "Denny...No, for this it's Mr. Johnson. I think I know what you are thinking right now: a Russian woman, working on her MBA in the USA with a visa that will expire in another year, falls for a man who could be easily manipulated. Marriage means that she can stay in the States. On top of that the man's father is financially well off. By the way, Brien says filthy rich, but that comes from bitterness because you are not giving him a free ride through life. If I were in your place I would be suspicious, too."

She paused, as if to let me absorb what she was saying. She sipped her wine and continued, "You don't know anything about me. I could want to marry your son only to get a visa. I could be trying to get close to you to get at your money, but what you also don't know about me is my integrity. I love your son and I want the two of you to patch things up so that I can appreciate my husband and my father-in-law."

Another pause, "There, now you know everything about my motives."

That was it; I was smitten. This woman, despite being several years younger than Brien, could be the one to make my 26-year-old son an adult. The alarm bells silenced and the sign read, "All systems go".

We finished dinner and had desert. Then we moved to the bar for a brandy and continued to get to know each other. It turned out to be one of the most interesting evenings I had spent in a long time. I offered to drive her home, but she wanted to walk, so I escorted her the two blocks to her door. When we got there, we talked more, in the cold. I did not want the evening to end, but when she invited me inside, I knew it would be better if I said good night.

The wedding was on Valentine's Day in the great room of Julia's house. (It used to be my house until the divorce.) It was very small affair, with only a dozen people present. I understand that there was a heated discussion about whether they were even going to invite me. Tatiana put her foot down and said if I was not invited, then they could count her out as well. (No one ever stood up to Julia before, and I was told that she did not take it well.)

Three months later, Tatiana was pregnant and Annika was born on their first wedding anniversary. Since she was married to an American and had a daughter who was an American, she could convert her visa from an educational visa to a conditional permanent resident visa. It was not the same as a green card, but she could stay in the USA as long as she was married to my son.

My relationship with Brien and Julia continued to be strained, but over the next three years, Tatiana made sure that I was a part of Annika's life. Tatiana included me in all the major events in her life, and made sure Annika called me Grampy.

Tatiana and I were sort of allies when it came to Julia the matriarch: Julia despised anyone who did not agree with her, and since Tatiana would not let anyone manipulate her, Julia had an immediate dislike for her: as for me, she hated me on principle.

If Mommy did not like someone, then, of course, her son was obligated not to like that person either, so Tatiana and Brien's marriage was always a shaky one. Although Julia was a very good grandmother, she was an instigator and constantly sewed discontent in their marriage. The only thing holding it together was Annika, but even that was not enough for the marriage to survive. Tatiana was (and is) a very conscientious mother, but she could not deal with two children (one of which was by that time 30 years old.)

I was the only person in whom Tatiana could confide. We spent many warm Saturday afternoons sitting in the shallow end of my pool and talking while Annika splashed. Tatiana never recovered from the weight gain during her pregnancy, and Brien lost all interest in her. The more time Tatiana and I talked, the more enchanted I became. Her pretty face, extraordinary personality, her laugh and the way she made everyone feel special made the additional pounds insignificant. Her weight notwithstanding, there were times that I found myself fantasizing about her, and not in a way that is proper for a man to think of his son's wife.

During our talks, we covered many topics, from her husband to her dreams. The one thing that she never talked about was her life in Russia. It was almost as if her life started when she came to the United States.

Finally one afternoon in late summer, she told me that she was getting a divorce. I told her not to act in haste; I told her to take no action until she found out what a divorce would do to her immigration status. I found out that since she had been married for five years, she could make the conditional resident visa permanent. I also helped her take care of other things that might become issues during the divorce proceedings.

The marriage officially ended in divorce in early 2009. After the divorce, Tatiana and my four-year-old granddaughter moved to Miami where there was a thriving Russian community. She wanted Annika to learn to speak Russian and to learn about her culture. (Brien did not permit Tatiana to speak Russian when he was around. "This is America, damn it, so speak American.") She could not go back to Russia because Tatiana needed Brien's permission to take her out of the country. Permission, of course, that Brien refused to grant, so the next best option was to go to where the Russians were.

Once in Miami, Tatiana went to the Russian Consulate in Miami to grant Annika Russian citizenship so she would have dual citizenship. We looked into this before she left and while it might not mean anything, I felt that having the same citizenship as her mother might be of psychological benefit to Annika.

We kept in touch with Skype, but I did not get a chance to see Tatiana or Annika after they left for South Beach. Brien and Julia flew to Miami several times, but I was always too busy to find the time.

That brings us to late March 26, 2010. It was an unseasonably warm day and I was at my normal park bench taking care of business and watching the girls pass by when my cell phone rang.

"Hello, this is Dennis."

"Denny, this is Tatiana. How have you been?"

"I have been good, but I miss my little Annika. How are things with you?"

"We both miss you, too. I am doing well. I am the manager of one of my friend's restaurants so I am finally making use of my education."

"That's great. When am I going to get a chance to see you two, or do I have to fly to Miami and make dinner reservations at your restaurant?"

"Well, actually, that is why I am calling you. I need your help."

"Anything", I replied. "What can I do?"

"Well, Brien reminded me that according to the divorce decree, now that Annika is five, she has to spend the summer with him. I am really not comfortable being here in Florida while she is in Minnesota. I can get a leave of absence from my job, but I need a place to stay for the summer, and I was wondering if you could try to find a place that I could rent for the summer."

"Rent a place? Why not stay here? I got two extra bedrooms, and you can have your own bathroom, so you and Annika can have privacy."

"Denny, are you sure it's okay? When we first met, I promised I would not impose myself on you."

"Tatiana, discussion is over. When will you be here?"

"Brien and I still need to settle that, but it will be around the first week in June for ten weeks. Annika will spend most of the time at Brien's, with some weekends with me, but I only need space for myself."

"Either way, you're welcome to stay any time for as long as you want."

We chatted for a few more minutes about Annika and about Tatiana's job.

"Denny, you're the best. I will be talking to you, and I am really looking forward to spending some time with my favorite father-in-law."

"Well I look forward to seeing my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter. I will talk to you later."

We hung up and I went back to studying the web optimization statistics of my most recent customer. I looked up just as a tall blonde walked by wearing a short, lightweight skirt. She was doing one of those power-walking things, and as she moved, her gait caused the skirt to flip up, which gave me a view of her powder blue thong. Ah! Summer was on its way.

As spring came into full force, the days got longer and warmer. The snow, which is so characteristic of Minnesota, was gone, replaced by green grass and budding trees. The girl watching was getting better, but I was unable to focus on that. Instead, I decided to make my home more comfortable for my summer guests by converting two bedrooms and a bath into a two-room guest suite. As the work progressed, I could not figure out why I was looking forward with such enthusiasm to the loss of my privacy for nearly three months.

Finally, the time came for Tatiana and Annika to arrive. Tatiana and Brien agreed that Annika was to be with Brien from June 1 until the middle of August. I convinced her to arrive before Memorial Day so Annika would have a chance to reacquaint herself with Grampy. I wanted to make sure that Annika's impression of me was favorable before she was exposed to Julia's toxic rhetoric.

I met them in the baggage claim area of the airport. It had been more than a year since I had seen either of them. A year ago, she was a defeated woman whose marriage had just failed. She was overweight and her hair was cropped short, not because the style favored her, but because she just did not care anymore.

I almost did not recognize them as they came down the escalator. Tatiana lost at least 20 pounds and was tanned and toned. It was obvious that South Beach (and divorce) agreed with her. Being from Russia (where is literally winter for half the year) and after living in Minnesota (which is almost as bad) she took full advantage of the sun. Her light brown hair was slightly longer than shoulder length and was streaked, either from the sun or from a talented hairdresser. Her skin was clear and she walked with her shoulders back. She certainly got herself together during the past year.