On a Day Like That

"It was wonderful for me, too, Chuck. Anytime you want to come over, you know..."

"That's another reason why I'm calling now. Maybe you've heard, that night I stayed with you, a couple of homeless people ended up freezing to death out there."

"That's horrible," Peggy said. "But I'm not surprised."

"Me neither," Chuck said. "Anyway. The school's running a canned food drive, and I've volunteered for next Friday night, as the faculty chaperone for the kids. If you want to come out and help..."

"I'll be there! Then you can come spend the night here again. This time I'll buy the wine."

"I was thinking I'd like to take you out to dinner first."

"You romantic, you. It is Valentine's Day weekend, isn't it?"

"Oh, gosh, I'd forgotten all about that! Sorry, Peggy. But I would still like to..."

"Didn't I tell you to stop apologizing?" Peggy felt like banging her head against a wall. But she had an idea. "Chuck, it's fine. I'd love that. Just bring a change of clothes over here, they might not let you in if you're dressed like you've been out asking people for cans of food."

"Perfect," Chuck said. "I'll be on the square from four to six on Friday. See you when you get off work?"

"It's a nice short walk," Peggy said. "I'll see you there."

"Great," Chuck said. "With, you know, nothing implied. I always hated Valentine's Day anyway."

"Doesn't everybody?"

As she hung up the phone, Peggy was as frustrated as she was lonely. But for better or worse, he had played right into her hands, and amidst the frustration she felt a delightful tickle building up inside her.

It was a long way to next Friday, and during that week-and-a-bit she lost her nerve and regained it a dozen times or more. When Friday morning finally came, that nerve was once again lost. But it was casual Friday at work, and she went ahead and wore the red sweater and jeans that she'd settled on and hoped she'd rediscover her resolve sometime during the day.

Happily, she did rediscover it, and was feeling deliciously pent-up when she walked the two blocks from her office to the square. She saw the kids, out and busy collecting the cans from well-wishers, before she spotted Chuck behind the table which was already laden with donations. But there he was, chatting with another volunteer, and she was nearly there when he turned and saw her.

"You made it!" he said, and he surprised her with a hug that she eagerly returned. "Thanks for coming out."

"It's a great cause, of course I made it," Peggy said. She was tempted to add a schmaltzy comment about how she wouldn't have missed seeing him again. But it was too public for that.

After a round of introductions to the student volunteers, Peggy set about helping sort the cans while Chuck thanked donors and tallied the donations. "They've got a competition," he explained. "The homeroom with the most donations gets some extra credit."

"That explains a lot," Peggy said. When she'd finished sorting, she had her first chance to look around the plaza, which was still crowded with people leaving work. The lights of City Hall had come on although winter sun wasn't quite gone, and the plaza was aglow with the pleasant combination. But, she noticed for the first time, there was no hint of the occasion. "Wow, no Valentine's Day decorations, huh?"

"Who wants to remember it's Valentine's Day anyway?" Chuck asked. "Didn't you always love to hate it?"

"Once I was old enough to not think boys were icky?" Peggy chuckled. "Yeah, I guess. But I mean, aren't we a little old for that kind of angst, Chuck?"

"I don't know," Chuck said. "I'm glad to be here and working and all, but it's kind of lonely, isn't it? Who wants that rubbed in?"

"I guess," Peggy said. But to her surprise, she only found her resolve growing stronger. "I'm glad you asked me here, anyway. I wasn't looking forward to another lonely weekend. Especially not this one."

"Oh, why pay any mind to what weekend it is at all?" Chuck asked.

"Why not?" Peggy challenged. "Aren't you a romantic under all that cynicism?"

"I used to be," Chuck admitted.

"You still are, really. You're just a wounded soul."

"Guilty," Chuck said. "I mean, I'm not angry at Alex anymore, really. But I learned my lesson about happy endings."

"With the wrong woman, anyway."

"Right. Now if only I could spot the right woman next time!"

Peggy could not very well argue with that.

It was dark and getting colder when six o'clock finally arrived. Just as the clock was chiming, a van pulled up and a man got out, whom Chuck introduced to Peggy as Mr. Honshon, the football coach. "He'll be keeping the cans and bringing them to the shelter tomorrow."

"Is this the last shift, then?" Peggy asked.

Mr. Honshon grunted a yes. "Gotta get all those brats home for dinner, don't you know?"

"Oh, quiet, you," Chuck said. "They might hear you." The kids were already coming to gather around him and turn in the last donations. As he tallied them, he thanked all the kids by name, and even asked them if they needed a ride home. To Peggy's mild relief, none of them did.

Once the cans were cleared off the table, she helped Chuck fold it up and carried it to the van, where Mr. Honshon was waiting with the door open. "Thank you, little lady," he said.

Peggy was gratified to see Chuck joined her in ignoring the comment, and picked up the backpack she assumed had his clothes to change into for dinner.

As soon as the coach had driven off, Peggy asked, "Mr. Honshon? Is that his real name?"

"Word around the faculty lounge is that it is," Chuck said. "We all just figure if you're born with a name that sounds that much like 'hotshot', you're probably destined to be a football coach."

"Glad I wasn't the only one to think of that," Peggy said.

"You're not," Chuck reassured her. "But any student who points that out to him is liable to be doing pushups for the rest of the class period. That's the rumor anyway."

On the walk home, they passed the restaurant Peggy had chosen for dinner. "You can see why I wanted to change clothes first," she told him.

"That I do," Chuck said, pausing to peer discreetly into the dimly lit establishment, which wasn't too dim to reveal it was lush with tablecloths and leather seats, and patrons who mostly looked like they'd come straight from the office. And just a touch of pink and red décor marking the occasion. "I see they remember it's Valentine's Day," he noted as they resumed the walk home.

"I promise that's not why I chose it," Peggy said, and it was true -- she knew the place looked romantic all the time. "But I've got to admit it's a nice touch. I hope you don't mind!"

"I don't," Chuck said. "Like I said, I'm glad to have your company. I just hope it doesn't make us feel, you know, uncomfortable at dinner."

"It won't." Peggy didn't know just how he'd react to her modest proposition, but she was confident if they did make it to the restaurant, he wouldn't be worried about any pink and red hearts anymore.

"It won't?" Chuck gave her a quizzical look.

"Nope." Peggy laughed through her pleasant embarrassment, and let him wonder what she was laughing at.

"Oh, good," she said several minutes later as they stepped into her apartment, which was quite warm for once. "The radiator is working today."

"Does this mean no electric heater when we go to bed?" Chuck quipped.

Peggy only laughed as she took her coat off, to reveal her red sweater for the first time.

The symbolism wasn't lost on Chuck. "You dressed up for the holiday, huh?" he said as he kicked off his shoes.

"I figured why not try to enjoy it a little?" Peggy said, taking his coat to hang alongside hers in the tiny closet. "You should, too, really, Chuck."

"I remember my mother asking if I wanted to wear my red shirt to school on Valentine's Day," Chuck said. "Maybe third grade. But I wouldn't, because I considered that shirt unlucky. I think I'd gotten in trouble a couple of times while I was wearing it." He laughed, to Peggy's relief.

"I had a red dress and I had no choice, my mother always made me wear it," Peggy recalled. "Remember those stupid valentines you had to give to everyone?"

Chuck nodded. "My mother made me write one for every kid in the class. Now I'm glad she did, of course. No one should have had to go without any, you know?"

"God, that would be heartbreaking!" Peggy agreed. "Some poor kid always got just two or three, and one of them was from the teacher."

"Now you see why I hate Valentine's Day, then," Chuck said, helping himself to a seat at the kitchen island.

"It doesn't have to be that way now, Chuck," Peggy said.

"Oh, it isn't, of course," Chuck agreed. "Now I mostly just don't think of it at all." He looked over at the bathroom. "Listen, if you want to shower before we go out..."

"I think we both should," Peggy said. "I want to feel as good as I look in that place."

"I like the way you think," Chuck agreed with a smile. "Why don't you go first and I can iron my slacks while you're in there?"

"Well, we could do that." Peggy swallowed her inhibitions as best she could and felt her face flushing. "But..." She took his hand and squeezed it playfully. "I was hoping you might like to join me in the shower."

She had prepared herself for many reactions to her proposal -- but not for the reaction she got. Chuck laughed and hugged her, and then backed off and looked her in the eye. "Very funny," he said. "But come on, Peggy, I'm not Mark."

"Exactly!" With the invitation on the table, she saw no option but to go for broke. "You're not Mark and I'm not Alex, and it's Valentine's Day and we're here, and don't expect me to believe you didn't feel what I felt the last time you were here!"

"Of course I felt it," Chuck admitted. "I just figured, we never really got to know each other before..."

"All the more reason we should do that now," Peggy said. "And I felt so wonderfully safe and welcome with you..."

"Welcome in your own home?" Chuck said. "I should hope so!"

"Oh, you know what I mean!" Peggy said. "Look, if you're not attracted to me --"

"I am!"

"Really?"

"Really," Chuck said. "I just wasn't expecting...I mean, wow!"

"I wasn't the one who said I was rated PG, Chuck," Peggy said with a naughty grin. "Now, do you want to join me?" She stepped back and raised her arms so he could pull her sweater off if he wished.

"More than you can imagine," Chuck confessed, and he stood up. "But before I help you off with that, something I really wanted to do that night..." He took her in his arms and squeezed her so tightly she was surprised it didn't hurt. But it didn't, it felt delightful and she returned the hug. She could feel him getting hard and she hoped it didn't embarrass him, and even considered telling him how wonderful it felt. But the silence was too comfortable to break.

Peggy didn't know how long he held her for. She didn't care. When at last he pulled back, she held her arms up again.

Chuck gathered up the hem of her sweater, then paused with both of his hands clutching the fabric. "Are you sure you want to cross this line?" he asked.

"Chuck, I'm starting to get hot here!" she laughed.

Without another word, he pulled the sweater over her head. She was wearing a blouse underneath that buttoned in back, so she turned around and held her hair out of the way. "If you've got to ask again, so help me..."

"I don't," Chuck said. "Just can't believe my luck, I guess." He unbuttoned it while she did the same with her cuffs. "You were always so adorable and I wished we could be closer friends, but after..."

"Please don't mention Alex." Peggy turned around and pulled her blouse off, welcoming his hungry gaze at her breasts, still confined in her favorite bra -- plain and white, but comfortable, and she'd been quite sure he wouldn't mind. Clearly he didn't. "I'm not her and you're not Mark, remember?"

"You sure aren't," he said almost absentmindedly. Realizing a moment too late that he hadn't said it to her face, he forced himself to look up.

Peggy laughed. "It's okay, Chuck, admire them all you want. You're going to be washing them in a minute, aren't you?"

"Then I guess I'd better get you out of that bra, huh?"

"Please do!"

She was delighted to find she wasn't embarrassed at all as he undid the clasp and set her breasts free. Once they were, she welcomed his hands on them and busied herself with undoing his belt and his jeans. "I think these are getting a little tight on you anyway, aren't they?" she teased.

"And how."

She unzipped his pants and pulled them down with his boxers in one go, and helped herself to a gentle squeeze on his hard cock. "So much for 'rated PG', am I right?" she cooed.

"Mm-hmm." Peggy wasn't at all sure he'd heard what he was responding to, for he was busy caressing her breasts in the most delightful way.

He ran his thumbs lightly over her nipples and she squealed. "Oooh, that tickles!"

"Sorry!"

"I didn't tell you to stop, did I?"

Chuck laughed and resumed tickling her nipples, and also helped himself to their first kiss. They were still engaged in it when he let go of her breasts again. Peggy was disappointed until she realized where his hands were going, and presently she thrilled to the sensation of him unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans.

"Let's get this off while we're at it." She unbuttoned his shirt as she kicked her jeans and panties off. "Hardly fair that only I'm naked, is it?"

"Not at all," Chuck agreed, and he watched as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off over his shoulders. She had just enough time to admire his bare body before he hugged her again.

"Oh, that feels amazing, doesn't it?" The words were already out of Peggy's mouth when she realized it made her sound like she'd never been there before. But Chuck wouldn't care, she told herself, and she didn't care to tell him about the drunk Hungarian guy she'd gone home with once in London.

She was right, he didn't care. "Sure does," he said, caressing her back gently. "Always loved that skin-on-skin feeling."

So she wasn't his first either. Not that it mattered in the least. She returned his fond embrace for a long moment. "I don't want to rush you," she said finally, "But we've got reservations."

"I'm past ready to get you nice and clean anyway," Chuck said, and they laughed and held hands on the short walk to the bathroom.

Peggy liked the water a bit less hot than he'd have preferred, but from the moment they stepped into the spray, the temperature of the water was the last thing Chuck had on his mind. Her skin prickled with excitement as she watched him work up a lather, and she was pleased but not surprised when he began by soaping up her breasts.

But the first thing he said did surprise her. "Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For inviting me to join you here. I never would've had the nerve to ask you otherwise."

"No offense, but I know. I'm shy too, after all."

"You don't really look shy right about now, Peggy."

"Neither do you!" Now they were laughing. "Seriously, though, Chuck, I've been thinking for a while, you were probably a better match for me than Mark anyway because of that. Like attracts like, doesn't it?" She took the opportunity to rub some suds on and around his hardness, which left no doubt that he was attracted to her all right.

"Well, that'll be clean, won't it?" he said between gasps of pleasure.

"Clean isn't the word that comes to mind!" Peggy boldly took one of his hands and guided it to her bush, which he eagerly soaped up.

"Gotta be careful about getting soap inside you, haven't we?"

"How'd you know that, Chuck?"

"Read it in a book once. Shy, you know? But I read an awful lot of books about sex before I came anywhere near having any." Dutifully he splashed water on his hand and rinsed the suds out of her bush. Once his hand was clean, he did just what Peggy had hoped for but hadn't dared ask for: he slipped one finger inside her. "Mmm, just as warm and wet inside as out, I see."

"Oh, that feels so good!" She grabbed onto his arm for balance, and welcomed his playful stroking on the inside and his thumb flicking about on the outside. The drunk Hungarian certainly hadn't known this trick! "Oh my God, Chuck..." She squeezed his arm harder as his rubbing grew faster, and she could feel the most intense orgasm she'd had since she didn't know when coming on. When it did, she yelped with joy and got a mouthful of hot water, which made them both laugh. "Thank you!" she threw her arms around him as he drew his hand away.

Then it was her turn to wash him, and she did so with great aplomb. She returned the favor for him, and a minute or two of soapy rubbing was rewarded with a splash of white on her belly. It was washed away before she could worry about where it might find its way to. "Sorry about that," he said.

"Don't apologize, I loved that!" Now she was on to rinsing him off. "I wouldn't want you getting blue balls at dinner, you know."

"Hadn't thought of that," Chuck admitted. "And thanks."

The living room was pleasantly warm and dry, and Peggy got a kick out of watching Chuck iron his pants and shirt while she got her underwear and tights on. "I used to imagine this when I was just noticing boys," she said from her perch on the edge of the bed. "Before I really knew about how sex worked, just getting dressed together seemed so hot. Of course," she added, looking down at her scantily clad body as she stood up, "I never imagined I'd be comfortable like this with any man."

"Boys were icky, huh?"

"Didn't you think girls were too, Chuck?" Peggy welcomed his gaze as she pranced to the wardrobe.

"Only the ones who hated boys."

"Fair enough." She brought out a burgundy dress with a full skirt and frilly bodice. "Too Valentine's Day for you?" she asked.

"Let's say I'm over the Valentine's Day hate after our shower, shall we?"

Peggy laughed, and read nothing into the fact that his fresh outfit -- a blue shirt and dark grey pants -- didn't have a drop of red anywhere. He hadn't been expecting this, after all.

She was slightly worried about feeling overdressed at the restaurant, but within a minute or two of arriving she felt at ease with the other well-dressed diners. Even so, she felt a bit like an impostor. "Gosh," she sighed with a furtive look around.

"What's up?" asked Chuck, who seemed as comfortable as he was thrilled to be with her.

"I'm a long way from the farm, that's all."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I grew up wanting to get out of there, so I guess not. I just feel like I'm just playing a part here."

"I know the feeling," Chuck said.

"Do you really? Aren't you from the city?"

"A small city, yeah. But that's not really what I meant. I was quiet and shy, and there was a whole lot of making me feel about three inches tall for that..."

"Oh, I can sure identify with that," Peggy said. "So many stupid comments, even from my teachers. But you know..." She paused and sipped the first of her wine with a coy grin.

"I know what?"

"You and I haven't had any trouble talking, have we?"

"Isn't that a nice change!" Chuck let out a mild laugh. "Not like when we just had Mark in common, huh? He always did most of the talking."

"Even then, I thought you came across as a really nice guy, Chuck. I just, well, couldn't think of anything to say. How do you say, hey, you seem like a sweet guy?"

"Well, you just did, didn't you?"

"And it only took three years." Peggy reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "So, is this 'a day like that'?"

"It was," Chuck said.

"Was?"

"A day 'like that', the way I meant it, that's when you realize you're totally comfortable and safe with someone -- I say that knowing I got Alex all wrong that way, but still."