With Love, Aunt Zelda

I was ten when my both my parents and one of my brothers died in a car accident. Albert, my dead brother, had recently been diagnosed with a childhood cancer and they were on their way to Jacksonville to the Mayo Clinic there. At the time, Chuck, my older brother, and I had stayed behind with Uncle Sonny and Aunt Zelda so as not to miss any school. Dad, Mom and Albert were only supposed to be gone a week or so. My name is Harold, by the way, Hal for short – Dad never liked Harry. Uncle Sullivan, whom we called Uncle Sonny, was severely retarded – mentally challenged, they call it these days – and Aunt Zelda, his baby sister was his care-taker. My grandparents were also gone. Granddad had been rather elderly, having married Gramma very late in life, and had died from the after-effects of a stroke. It was said that Gramma died of a broken heart from missing Granddad, her second husband and true love. Who knows, maybe she did.

Aunt Zelda was a slender young woman always busy with Uncle Sonny and the various things she had to do for a grown man who had the mental capacity of a one year old. His favored method of motivation was his hands and knees, sometimes standing with the help of various objects. He kept Aunt Zelda pretty busy cleaning up after him. Being a one year old in a twenty-five year old body was a very trying affair for her. She didn't go out at all and didn't wear any make-up nor try to attract any men, she was just too busy. However, as pretty as she was, makeup wouldn't have made much difference. Just "gilding the lily" as the phrase that I'd heard one of my teachers use went. When Mom, Dad and Albert died, she took us in and I will say that we were a handful. Having lost our parents and our brother, we tended to act out our pain instead of letting it out, but Aunt Zelda did her best for us.

I think what finally did it for us was when Chuck, a strapping thirteen by then, in a fit of uncontrollable rage at being unable to fix his bicycle, threw it and everything he could get his hands on out of the little work-shed in back of the house. In fright, I ran back to the house and got Aunt Zelda. She ran into the shed, grabbed him by the collar and the back of his pants – she was pretty strong for a skinny woman – and threw him against the wall in a sudden rush of anger. When he bounced back, she had a handy, flat board in her hand and she doubled him over her knee and laid into him. After a few stinging swats, Chuck quit screaming in anger and yielded, lying across her knee, wailing and crying. Aunt Zelda stopped the spanking and dropped her hand, the board hanging limply, and bowed her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. Then, dropping the board, she stood him up and he threw his arms around her and began crying into her shoulder.

I sat back all huddled up, watching them until Aunt Zelda saw me crying softly beside the door and reached an arm out to me. I stood up unsteadily and tottered up to her. As she pulled me in with Chuck, the year of pent-up sorrow flooded through me and I let it out. All three of us clung to each other as we wept in sorrow for our dead parents and the self-pity of no longer having them with us. From that day on, things seem to go a lot better and we gradually grew into our own family. That's not to say that things were easy from there on in, I mean, we were growing boys and got into trouble quite often, but it was no longer from acting out our pain.

We didn't have much money to live on. As orphans, Chuck and I got a small support check from Social Security along with Uncle Sonny as a handicapped individual. Aunt Zelda got a Care Giver's payment, but all combined, it still wasn't enough to keep us all in shoes and clothes let alone groceries for two bottomless pits. The Food Stamps we got helped, but it was just a hard-scrabble life through middle school and into high school. Through it all, Aunt Zelda tended us with a firm hand. I'd just finished middle school and was ready to begin high school when Uncle Sonny died and we lost his part of the income. We couldn't say that it was unexpected, he'd always been sickly and seemed to catch a lot of colds and various pulmonary diseases. He'd been given so many antibiotic medicines, that he was fairly resistant to penicillin and a few other antibiotics. Although his doctor tried various other forms of medications to stave off the illness, in the end, it still got him.

The morning he died, Aunt Zelda had gone up to awaken him for breakfast and found him cold and stiff. She'd been calm as she came back down and called the emergency number, waiting quietly until they arrived and took him away. She was so worn out from caring for him, from constantly changing his diapers and his complete inability to learn or understand that she collapsed. The paramedics wanted to take her in as well, but she refused, saying that she still had two boys to take care of. The medic got authorization from the doctor on call to just have her sign a refusal form and provide her with sedatives for a couple of days until she could get to her doctor – a doctor she didn't have. Within a couple of days she was more like her old self again.

In a way, the death of Uncle Sonny was a relief. It took a load of problems and worries off her shoulders and, since Chuck and I were at the point where we pretty much took care of ourselves, she found herself temporarily at loose ends. As for money, Aunt Zelda lost the Care Giver's allowance she'd been receiving from the state, but managed to get a slightly bigger one for me and Chuck as our care taker.

At first she was kind of lost, trying to figure out what to do with the extra time. Chuck and I had after school part-time jobs, so we had a little money of our own and rarely got home before eight or nine. We usually did our homework during Home Room, so we had time to shower and relax a few minutes with her until we went to bed. Within a few months after Uncle Sonny's death, I began to notice a change in Aunt Zelda – a pleasant change. She seemed more at ease, more relaxed. She loved working outside and had started a small vegetable and herb garden as well as a few flower beds around the house. Her once pale skin from too much time indoors got a healthy glow. Her pale, sallow complexion acquired a beautiful honey-gold tan from the sun – and she even talked of finding a job. I liked the way she looked and told her so many times, finding that I had feelings for her that I hadn't realized I'd had.

"You don't have to, Aunt Zelda," I had nudged Chuck when she mentioned getting a job, "I can give you more of my paycheck for the house."

Chuck didn't want to volunteer any of his money, but he grudgingly agreed that he could do the same – if it would help. Aunt Zelda laughed and smiled, telling us that she didn't need any of our money. She said that right now, there was enough money coming in from our SSI and her Care Giver's checks, but that she was thinking of the future after we turned eighteen and the government checks stopped coming in. She said that she'd wanted to be a nurse when she was a little girl and, taking care of Sonny, she'd realized that she really had the desire for it. She said that she was planning on attending the technical school to learn nursing, that they had a lot of financial assistance programs for women like her. Chuck smiled with relief that she didn't want his money, but I got an odd feeling listening to her plans, wishing that I had the money to give her for her school and . . . I wanted to take care of her. To keep her happy – in ways that I couldn't quite formulate yet.

I usually took a couple of hours after work to hang out with my friends, but I soon began making excuses to come home early and spend time with Aunt Zelda. My days off, usually Sundays, we'd go to church then I'd spend the rest of the day in the garden with her, weeding and tending the vegetable patch and her flower garden. I really enjoyed spending time with her and got a lot of pleasure from her gentle touches whenever she brushed the hair out of my face or dusted me off. Aunt Zelda was a very pretty woman, now that she no longer wore a permanent frown. She had a cleanly formed, very pretty face. Gray eyes that could turn almost blue when she was happy. The frown slash marks between her eyes were practically gone and only their memories hung there. I also began noticing other things about her. Maybe it was just the hormones of a growing teenager, but her breasts, though small, were high, full and nicely rounded. Her butt was like a valentine, made for touching and holding, and her long, slender legs in the shorts she usually wore, made my hands itch to caress them. Even her feet were pretty wiggling bare-toed and dirty in the freshly turned earth. I watched her, trying not to seem as if I was, out of the corners of my eyes. I couldn't take my eyes off her whenever she was around. During the past month or so, she'd seemed to grow younger and younger, moving almost as carefree as a young girl. I guess it was something she'd missed in all those years of taking care of Uncle Sonny.

One day, she left me in the vegetable garden to finish pulling some weeds. I'd come home straight from school, this being one of my days off from work and I happened to come in for a glass of water as she was getting ready to go meet with a school counselor about her curriculum. I guess she hadn't expected me to come in so soon and didn't see me standing in the kitchen drinking my glass of water. I stood there thinking about how great she looked in her shorts when, looking out over the breakfast counter, I caught Aunt Zelda walking into the living room, still dripping from the shower and holding a skimpy little towel in front of her, cradling her sweet breasts in it, her nipples bare and standing out softly. She never saw me as she grabbed her purse and hurried back into the bathroom. I almost dropped my glass, not daring to move until she'd gone out of sight. Her beautiful pink nipples and creamy white breasts stood in stark contrast to her golden, honey-tanned arms and neck. Her sweetly rounded slender buttocks set beautifully on top of her slender legs.

"She is so beautiful . . ." I whispered to myself.

I quickly set my glass in the drainboard and snuck back out. A few minutes later she came out wearing a short-sleeved summer frock that took my breath away. Looking back on that day, I remember that it wasn't particularly sexy, but to me it, she was Aphrodite herself. She wore some makeup that made her look even more beautiful than I thought possible. Maybe it was just me, I mean, Aunt Zelda had always looked kind of plain, but lately she'd been acquiring a beauty – to me – that, at times, took my breath away. Maybe it was just that I'd fallen in love with her, so I stood there gaping at her. She had her hair pulled up with a yellow ribbon that complemented her dress. I noticed that she had nylons on, giving her legs a glossy sheen. Her feet were set off by a pair of wedge-heeled slip-on sandals. Her look of casual beauty was totally awesome and I could only stare.

"What's wrong?" she frowned, looking down at herself, trying to see if maybe her slip or something was hanging low.

"Y-y-you look beautiful," I whispered in a hushed voice, looking her up and down.

Her high, tinkling giggle sounded like heavenly music in my ears.

"Is that all?" she chuckled, "I thought my stockings were hanging around my ankles or something," she carefully stepped down the stairs, "I didn't want to get too dressy. Do I look okay?" she turned gracefully.

"Oh-h, Aunt Zelda," I answered still breathless, "you look beautiful . . . I'm jealous of anybody that sees you!" I blurted without thinking.

"Oh, you," she clucked gently, smiling appreciatively, "I bet you say that to all the girls," she teasingly batted her eyes, her hand rising coquettishly to her hip.

"Oh, n-no, ma'am," I rubbed my hands on my jeans, God I wanted to grab her and never let her go, "n-n-n-not at all."

"Well, thank you, sweetie," her face softened to a normal smile, "thank you very much."

The fragrant wisp of her perfume wafted up my nose, adding to her allure, as she bent to press her freshly made-up lips to the side of my face. I wanted to turn my face to hers, take her in my arms and kiss her like I'd only kissed one girl before, but I didn't dare. I didn't know what she'd do.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

She began schooling for her LPN – Licensed Practical Nurse – certification with plans for later certifying as an RN, a Registered Nurse, which was her ultimate goal. For the next year or so, I willingly volunteered to be her practice partner, her study dummy, feigning unconsciousness when required, letting her bandage my arm and leg, splint my legs and all the other things she had to learn to get the Advanced First Aid card she neededfirst. I particularly enjoyed the cardio-pulmonary resuscitation practice – she brought her lips so close to mine that, had I but leaned up slightly, I could have kissed them. I wished so much that I had and even prayed for the courage to do it, but I never did, nor ever got the courage. Chuck and I also helped her with her regular school studies. She had to have some basic college courses – in fact, some of the same classes we'd already had. I enjoyed the times I spent with her and from the way she acted with me, I knew she did as well.

Aunt Zelda got her LPN Certification before Chuck graduated high school, and got a job at a close by elder-care facility – a retirement home. She didn't make a lot of money, but it was enough to pay the bills and the rent while she worked on getting a scholarship or college grant. Not long after he graduated, Chuck enlisted in the Navy and got a spot at the Nuclear School to learn how to maintain nuclear power plants on the new ships being built. It required two hard years for the school and an additional four-year commitment after he graduated with an Associate of Nuclear Engineering diploma. Meanwhile, I was beginning my first year in community college, with plans to transfer credits after a couple of years, to whatever college would take me, leading to an eventual degree in business. Aunt Zelda and I grew closer after Chuck left. She'd never started dating again and, in truth, I don't think she ever had dated much – if any. She was always Uncle Sonny's little sister and after Gramma's passing, took over as his sole care-giver. When I asked her about dating once, she only shook her head, acted a little embarrassed and said that it was just a big bother and quickly changed the subject.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

One nice Sunday, I was kicked back on one end of the sofa, watching TV and easing my aching muscles. I'd helped Aunt Zelda in the garden after a particularly grueling night at the warehouse I part-timed in. I was a good-sized man – or so I called myself – and I'd hired on as muscle, a laborer and forklift operator moving boxes and crates around while I attended community college days. I'd showered and, like I said, was kicked back watching some program on TV about heavy equipment and how it was made. Aunt Zelda finally came in all dirty and sweaty. She'd stayed out a little longer saying that she just wanted to finish watering the weeds and rest in the sun for a few minutes before coming in. She threw a smile at me on her way to the shower. I smiled back and watched her slim, still very girlish figure in her torn denim shorts walking away. I'd gotten a good look at her sweaty tee shirt clinging to her braless chest. She had a small, very perky pair of breasts and her pointy nipples were visible through the sweat-drenched fabric. As she walked to the stairs, I got a great side view of them jiggling beautifully. I tried to seem as if I wasn't looking, my mouth watering at the sight of her lissome, sweetly sexy beauty. I kept staring as she went around the bannister post, turning her back to me. She had about a two or three inch wear hole just at the bottom of her right butt-cheek, a little pale skin flashing through as she walked. I covered my crotch furtively, caressing gently and sighed. I wish, I wish . . . I wished there was a wishing well around so I could wish . . .

She wasn't shy around me, I don't know if she'd ever been, and often walked around the house in a thin dressing gown with nothing under it. I could clearly see that she rarely wore any underclothing and wondered if that was for my benefit. I was very hesitant about approaching her about anything like that. Had I realized that she was offering, without words, what I hadn't yet figured out how to ask for, I might have acted a long time before I finally did. I'd never really thought about her as very young, but she was the youngest child of my grandfather's second wife. He'd had three kids with his first wife who'd died of cancer, my mother being his oldest of that group, and two with his second wife, Uncle Sonny and Aunt Zelda. Aunt Zelda had come along a couple of years before my older brother, Chuck, so she wasn't much older than I was. It was just that since around sixteen, she'd been caring for her older brother and it had aged her beyond her years – and she wasn't yet twenty-four years old! She was only four years or so older than I was at twenty. The last few years with Uncle Sonny off her hands and with Chuck gone off on the USS Enterprise, a nuclear aircraft carrier, had erased years of worry from her face and she'd begun looking closer to her actual age – younger and prettier, it seemed to me. Aunt Zelda came back in, looking a little under the weather and curled up on the sofa beside me.

"Are you feeling okay?" I asked solicitously.

"Yeah, I guess . . . but I feel as if I'm coming down with something."

I reached down and felt her forehead. It was a little warm and she looked a little flushed.

"Maybe too much sun," I suggested, "want me to get you a cold drink?"

"Nah, but . . ."

"Fresh cuppa coffee? Hot cuppa tea?" I suggested.

"No," she raised her head and cast around, looking for something.

I guessed what she was looking for and volunteered my lap.

"Just scoot up. You can use my lap. I think you put the throw pillows in the wash and the washing machine hasn't kicked off yet."

"Um, okay, thanks," she pushed up until her head lay on my thigh.

"Comfy?" I smiled down at her.

"Um-m, hm," she nodded smiling wide, "very," she closed her eyes and sighed.

I lifted my hand and hesitated holding it over her head. I was suddenly wanting to hold her tight once more, but it felt . . . different somehow. I mean, it wasn't like I hadn't touched her before, we were always exchanging quick hugs and kisses on the cheek and forehead whenever I left for school or got back home. They were friendly, familial kisses and hugs, the kind one gave a relative one loved, but . . . I didn't know why this felt suddenly different. I lowered my hand onto her head and caressed her cheek and hair gently. Soft, silky smooth, still a little damp from the shower, she hadn't blow-dried it completely into straw. She was no raving beauty, didn't have the golden hair nor the cute upturned nose of fairy princesses, but neither was she the sex goddess of love stories. She was only an ordinary woman with pretty, light-brown, silky-soft hair. Her nose wasn't exactly straight and had a slight little hump where the cartilage began. She had thin lips and for a long time, had been growing wrinkles from her constant frowning. But she had a strong character and she lay her head trustingly in my lap and . . . and I wanted to hold her. Make love to her. Adore her for the wonderful woman she was. I ran my hand down her hair, no longer focused on the TV, but on this sexy, vibrant woman lying with her head in my lap. She was my aunt, half-sister to my mother, but she was such a lovely woman.

I had several girls that I dated off and on – many other guys did, too. Whenever I got horny, one or another was always willing to help me get over it, but I'd never felt the way I felt for Aunt Zelda. I always looked forward to coming home and getting a hug and a quick peck from her, even if I'd just gotten laid, and she was always in the back of my mind. She always smiled at me with a love that I hadn't realized I returned. I stroked her hair several times, enjoying the feel of it, the silky texture, burying my fingers in it and fluffing it out to let the air finish drying it. She startled me when she gave a long, shuddering sigh and I realized that she was enjoying my caressing fingers as much as I was enjoying combing them through her hair. As I pulled my fingers free, I began again from the top, running them down, pressing softly against her scalp, gently caressing her soft ear between my fingers. After a while I rested my tired fingers on her neck, feeling her heart beat through the big blood vessel there. As I ran them up and down the side of her throat, I could feel her heart speed up, getting excited. I suddenly wanted her badly, but I didn't dare – not yet. I didn't know if she felt the same way I did.