Consequences, Sandy

[Consequences are the results of actions taken or not taken. They can be intended or unintended. This story is about both kinds. I hope you enjoy this story. If the response is such that a follow-up is wanted, it will be submitted. Your votes and comments will determine if there is a follow-up.]

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On April tenth my Dad died in his sleep. He was sixty-four. He had moved to the small town where I was born two years before I was born. It was my Mom's home town. Dad was fresh out of the service. They married within six months and a year later I was born. Dad worked at the lumber yard and eventually bought it from Mr. Conners.

I grew up with sawdust, two by fours and knowing the difference between a two-penny and a four-penny nail. When I graduated from high school I went away to college and majored in business.

Late in my freshman year Mom died of a heart attack. I went back home for her funeral. After the burial Dad took me aside and said he wanted me to finish college. He wanted me to go all the way to an MBA. He paid the bills for college, room and board for the six years it took to get the MBA. I came home once a year and we hung out like friends when I was home. We both missed her a lot and spoke of our memories often.

On April tenth I got a call at work from Sandy. Sandy was my age and lived with her folks a quarter mile from Dad. She called to tell me she found Dad and that I needed to come home. I flew to the nearest big airport and rented a car. I was home the morning of the eleventh. Sandy was sitting on our front porch when I drove up. I wondered why it had to be Sandy. Why did she call? Why was she the one sitting on the front porch?

She was dressed just as she was all through high school: a long sleeved plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up near her elbows, Levis with a western belt and oval silver buckle, brown worn boots. Her hair was in a pony tail, longer than I remembered but just as blond.

She met me in front of the porch and hugged me briefly.

"I'm glad you came."

"I didn't know he was even sick."

"He wasn't. I saw him two days ago at the Builder's Center. He was cutting lumber for a special order. He smiled and waved. That night we had dinner together and he was joking around. Doc Hoag says it was a sudden heart thing and he didn't even wake up from the pain."

"That's a blessing."

"I agree. We can go to the mortuary if you want or we can talk a while first."

"Did you schedule a service?"

"Eleven tomorrow. It'll just be a graveside service. That is what your Dad wanted."

"Yes. Dad wasn't for much fuss."

"We do need to drop in on Myron if you're up for it."

"Myron Goldman?"

"Your Dad's lawyer. I know, he was your tight end in high school too."

"Wow! A lawyer. I didn't know."

"Pretty good one as far as I can tell. Your Dad liked him."

"You up for hanging with me as I get things done?"

"I cleared my very busy calendar so I could be with you, at least for the next two days."

We got in the car and by her direction I drove downtown and parked in front of Myron's office. Like most small towns, the lawyer's office was across the street from the old courthouse. Myron opened the door when we got close and welcomed us inside.

After the standard reminiscences we sat down and Myron opened a fairly fat folder.

"Nick, your Dad left it all to you. The Builder's Center, the house on Spruce Street, the pick up, his bank accounts and his debt."

"His debt?"

"Yes. He owes a total of one hundred fifty dollars, to me."

"That's it?"

"Your Dad was a great businessman. All the inventory at the Builder's Center is paid for. He has plenty of money in his accounts to pay his employees for two months, weather the Center is open or not. The taxes on the house are paid and he has owned the house for the last twelve years. No mortgage."

"I had no idea."

Myron had me sign papers and gave me copies of everything. I hired him as my lawyer. Sandy and I left and went to the mortuary. That meeting was pretty uncomfortable for me. We finalized the plan for the graveside service. There wasn't much for me to do. Dad had planned it all and paid for it in advance.

I took Sandy back to Dad's house. She handed me the key. "If it's Ok with you, I'll keep my key." She said.

"Dad gave you a key?"

"I made dinner for your Dad every Wednesday night for the last eight years."

"Oh. Why?"

"I've always liked your Dad. After your Mom passed I somehow started looking in on him and it became a habit. I'll miss our conversations."

"Me too."

"I know you called him on Sundays."

"I loved those conversations. I learned more from him than I learned in six years of college."

"I learned a lot from him too."

I hauled my suitcase into the house and Sandy went to the kitchen. I took the suitcase up to my room and unpacked. It took about three minutes. When I went back down to the kitchen Sandy was putting the final touches on dinner for three.

I sat at my regular place at the table. The same place I sat as I grew up. Sandy sat in Mom's chair, the one closest to the stove. I was about to ask about the third plate when I heard the front door open and close.

"Nick?" The female voice called out.

"We're in the kitchen." I answered. I stood. Karen Farmer came through the doorway and right into my arms. I got a kiss and suddenly she was gone. I barely registered the press of her breasts against my chest before she had backed off and plopped into the third chair.

Sandy served dinner and we ate. We talked about Dad, the town, who was doing what to whom, the various players in the town politics and the people they thought I might remember from when we all lived here together. From conversations with Dad I knew that Karen had married Ken Farmer and it lasted five years. They had no kids. I also knew Sandy hadn't married.

As it approached nine o'clock there was a silence around the table. Dinner was long over, dishes done and the small talk had ended. Sandy and Karen looked at each other and Sandy said, "We need to prepare you for tomorrow." She paused.

"In what way?"

Karen answered, "At the funeral tomorrow there will be lots of people. Most of them liked your Dad as a good neighbor, a good businessman, a friend. Those are almost everyone in town. I suspect there will be some others from towns around."

"Most of those will be women." Sandy added.

"Your Dad was well liked."

"There's more to what you're telling me, or not telling me."

"Nick, your Dad had some very intimate friends."

"You mean the women who come to the funeral from out of town were his lovers?"

"Yes," Karen said.

"And, some of the women from town, too." Sandy softly said.

"Jesus. That's something of a shock. He never said anything to me about any women in his life."

"He didn't want you to think he quit loving your Mom." Karen said.

"Look around this house. There are pictures of her, of her and you, of the three of you together. When we go to the cemetery tomorrow you will see that the stone they share is clean. Not because the cutter cleaned it before he carved your Dad's name. It's clean because once a month from the day of her funeral he has gone to the cemetery and cut the grass, cleaned the stone and put flowers. Even in winter."

"I'm learning a lot about Dad that I didn't know."

Karen stood and said, "I need to get home. I'll see both of you at the cemetery tomorrow. After, we're all meeting at my place. There will be tons of food and lots of people who want to talk to you, Nick."

I got another kiss and she was gone. Sandy didn't move for the door. I turned and faced her without saying anything.

"Nick, can I show you something?"

I nodded. She took my hand and led me upstairs. The door to the master bedroom was closed. The door to my room was open and my suitcase evident against the wall. The door to the guest room was the one she walked to. She opened it and I saw that it wasn't exactly a guest room. There were personal items in the room. On the nightstand there was a five by seven picture of Sandy and I dancing. On the dresser a hair brush, some perfume, and a set of keys.

I looked at Sandy and she said, "The last two years I've lived here with your Dad. I slept here every night. He slept over there in his bedroom. I needed a friend and so did he. I want to stay. Nick, may I stay?"

"We need to talk. Maybe we best go back downstairs." I hadn't let go of her hand. She led me upstairs and I led back down. We went back into the kitchen.

"Sandy, why have you been living with my Dad?"

"It's as close to what I want as I could get. I don't like living alone. You know my parents died just about the time your Mom passed. Two years later I sold their house. I couldn't live there. It was too quiet. Too alone."

"I didn't know they died. I'm sorry. You never married."

"No one has ever asked. Three men have come close and before they asked I told them no."

"Can I tell you a secret? Something I never even told Dad."

"Yes, I think so."

"I've been afraid to come back to town. I've wanted to come back, move back. I didn't want to come back like Dad was supposed to make room for me in his business and I never wanted to work for anyone else in town. He never invited me back."

Tears slid down her cheeks.

"Nick, he didn't want to impose on you. He wanted you to come back and take over the Builder's Center. He didn't want to ask you to do it because he thought you were off having the life you'd always wanted."

We hadn't communicated the most important communications of our lives. My heart ached to be able to go back a couple years and talk to him. I heard his voice in my head, "In for a nickel..."

"There was another reason I didn't come back. You."

"Me? I don't understand."

"I fell in love with you when we were sophomores in high school. You made fun of me for playing football and for thinking I was somebody. I've been intimidated by you since then. I don't think I can stay in town with you here. It would just hurt too much."

"Hurt? How would I hurt you?"

"It has hurt since I saw you sitting on the front porch this morning. I wanted to get out of the car and take you in my arms and tell you I've loved you for over ten years. I went to college and grad school and was known as the hermit. I didn't date. My heart has always been yours. If you won't love me I have to leave town."

Sandy stood and moved to my lap. Tears flowed down both of our cheeks. She put her arms around my neck and said, "I loved you in high school. I made fun of you because I didn't believe a simple, plain girl like me stood a chance with you. I'm nothing special. I didn't go away to college. I didn't go to college at all. I own one dress and it isn't fancy..."

"You love me?"

"You love me?"

"Yes!" We said in unison.

Very slowly I moved my face to hers and our lips touched for the very first time. Her lips were warm, soft and the touch changed my life. I felt her chest press against mine. I felt parts of my anatomy respond to the kiss.

When the kiss ended it was because we needed air. As soon as we took a breath we kissed again. And, again.

Her voice was a whisper. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

"I'm sorry. Please, forgive me." I echoed.

Her face screwed up and she asked, "Why would I need to forgive you?"

"For being a coward. For not coming back. For not telling you I loved you. For being a well educated idiot!"

"Oh, that." She smiled and we kissed again. When we came up for air again it was almost one in the morning. We were still in my chair in the kitchen.

"Nick, I want and need to go to bed. I don't ever want to go to bed alone again in my life. Would you like to go to bed with me?"

"Your bedroom or mine?"

"Yours has a twenty year old full-sized bed. Mine has a one year old queen sized bed."

We stood and stopped every two stairs on the way up, for kisses. In her bedroom she turned on the bedside lamp and faced me. "I want to undress you. May I?"

I nodded. She worked the buttons on my shirt and when she pulled it loose from my khakis I started on the buttons on her shirt. We kissed often. I pulled her shirt loose and she worked on my belt and then zipper.

She giggled as she lowered my slacks as they somehow got caught on something inside my slacks impeding their removal. She held them at my ankles and I stepped out of my shoes and slacks in one move. Sandy stood back up and I kissed my way to her Levis. It took me a while to get them open and work them off. I smelled her arousal as I lowered the Levis.

"Nick, go slowly. I've waited a long time for this."

"I'm not sure what to do. I have a confession. I'm still a virgin."

"I'm sure there were a hundred girls at college who were willing to go to bed with you."

"That might have been true. But none of them wore rolled up western shirts, levis and put their blond hair in a pony tail like yours."

"This should be interesting. Two thirty year old virgins. Maybe we should call Karen. I know she knows what to do."

"Look, we don't need to be good the first time. If we aren't much good we can do it over and over until we're good at it and then we can do it more until you get sick of me."

We finished undressing and began exploring our bodies. We fell asleep exploring and woke up a few minutes after nine when the door to Sandy's room opened as Karen said, "Where is ..." She stopped when she saw us in bed together.

"Oh, my God! I knew you loved him!"

"Ahhhh, Karen could we meet you downstairs in a little while? And, could you not talk until we do?" I said. I motioned her out of the bedroom. She nodded and went.

I faced Sandy and said, "We're still virgins. Are you sure about what we said last night or would you like an out?"

"I want out of bed. I want food. I want to skip the reception and come back here and go to bed with you. If you still want me, I'm yours."

"I want you." We got out of bed and started our morning ritual. I went to my bathroom and showered. Halfway clean I thought I should have brought Sandy with me. I got out and dressed. We met in the hallway and went downstairs. Karen had breakfast going. She blushed when we walked in.

Sandy served up breakfast and the three of us sat and ate. We didn't speak for most of the meal.

I reached over and took Sandy's hand in mine. "Sandy, I don't want to wait. I want to get married to you as soon as we can arrange it. Will you marry me?"

"Yes! Yes! Nick I have wanted to say yes to you since I was fourteen. Yes!"

"Oh, my God! You're serious!" Karen wanted to explode.

"Karen, you cannot say anything, to any one, today. We're burying my Dad today. On Monday you can tell anyone you want that I asked Sandy to marry me."

"And, you can say I said Yes!"

"Sandy, If I can find them, I would be honored if you would wear the rings my Mom wore. How do you feel about that?"

She jumped up and ran from the kitchen. In less than a minute she was back with a velvet box. She handed it to me.

"Your Dad and I put her rings in the box and he said when he went I was to put his ring in the box before I gave the box to you. It's in there."

I opened the box and looked at the three rings inside. Life had worn them. Love had shared the rings for forty years before Mom died. I reached for the engagement ring. Sandy's hand stopped me.

"Today is for your Dad and his memory. We didn't get engaged today. Ask me tomorrow. I promise I'll say yes. I promise I will proudly wear your Mom's ring all the days of my life."

"You're right. Today we close a chapter of the past. Tomorrow we open a new chapter."

"We need to go soon." Karen said, pointing to the clock. I gave the ring box back to Sandy and she put it back where she and Dad had put it. We went to the funeral. Lots of town's people were there and lots of people from surrounding towns too. Karen passed out papers with her address and directions so people could come for the reception.

Sandy rode with me to Karen's. When I assisted her from my rental car Mrs. Whiting watched and said, "I wonder what that's all about." We didn't respond.

I sat in a nice chair inside and Sandy brought me some food and a drink, water. Over the next three hours I met and talked with old friends, new acquaintances and customers of the Builder's Center. I also met the four people who worked for me.

After three hours Karen and Sandy started helping people decide it was over. My employees said they would see me at work the next day. I asked why they said that. Janice said, "Tomorrow's payday and you need to sign the checks." I smiled and said I'd see them the next day.

I thanked Karen for all her help and for hostessing the reception. She smiled and said it had been hard not to tell anyone about the engagement, but she would stay quiet. We both thanked her for that and drove home. My mind was already moving into the future.

"Sandy, talk things through with me, would you?"

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

"The house, to begin with. I haven't even opened the door to Dad's bedroom. I guess we could live ten years or so without opening that door but it seems like that's wrong. But, I don't want it to look like it has since I was six. Before we move in there I want to remodel it, paint it, get carpet, a new bed. What do you think?"

"I like the idea. After you go to the BC tomorrow and sign checks we can get started."

"I want to call someone and have all Dad's clothes and things go to people who can use them."

"I know who to call. They'll come and get all of it."

"Call them when we get home, OK?"

"Say that again, please."

"Call them when we get home, OK?"

"Nick, I am happier today than I have ever been in my life. We are going home, together."

"Another thing, we need to get married. We could fly to Las Vegas and go through a drive-thru church or we can stay here in town and get one of the churches to host the wedding. What would you like?"

"I don't want the drive-thru church, but going away and coming back married sounds good to me."

"Ok. Where would you like to go in our honeymoon?"

"I've never been anywhere over a hundred miles from right here. I would like to see an ocean. Honestly, I don't care where we go. I don't really care if we go. My dreams come true when you walk in the door late in the afternoon and say, "Hi, Honey. I'm home."

"I want to take you on a honeymoon. According to Myron we can afford it. Can I trust the four people that work for me to keep us in business while we run off and get married?"

"Yes! They loved your Dad and want to love you. Give them an incentive and they'll work hard for you. By the way, there are five people that work for you at the BC."

"There's Janice, Bill, John and Karen. Who else?"

"Me. When your Dad let me move in here I was out of work, so he brought me into the business. Janice and I handle the books. Karen is the cashier, Bill and John work the yard and stock the inside of the store."

"How much vacation time do you have accrued?"

"Let's see. I've worked for the BC for eight years and have missed six days total. I'd say I could take time off for a honeymoon and still keep my job."

"Ok, then. Let's stay in town until next Friday, fly to Las Vegas and then on to the ocean. We'll be gone two weeks. If we work it well the remodel of the bedroom will be done before we get back."

"We need a contractor. I think we should use Carl. He is a very good customer and does good work. Besides, your Dad helped him start his business."

"Could you call him and have him come over?"

Sandy got some paper and a pen out of her purse and made some notes. When we got home she went to our phone and made some calls. Two hours later Carl knocked on the front door. Sandy let him in and called me. We went to the master bedroom and talked. Carl walked into the master bath. It looked like it hadn't been changed at all since the house was built in the early 1950's.