Deidra, David and Jillian

I yelled back, "Call a trusted friend and give them my name and address. That way, you can feel safe, coming to my home for dinner."

Jillian looked at me in surprise, before nodding and making a call. After disconnecting, Jillian said, "I've got a 9pm check-in call. Don't let me forget. You lead. I'll follow."

We were back at my home in fifteen minutes and each of us looked like drowned rats, from the short run from our vehicles to my front door. "Let me get you a sweatshirt, sweatpants and a towel for your hair."

She responded, "Okay, but first..." And she kissed me. It was minutes long and filled with nervous passion. Our hands explored, a bit. She snuggled into me, and it felt like we were born to be together.

I'm not a spontaneous person. I think long and hard about most things. But inside my head, I was screaming, "It's too early to tell her I love you...It's too early to tell her I love you...Don't do it...Don't do it."

We ate and kissed. We watched the lightning and kissed. We talked about every topic under the sun and kissed.

When my doorbell rang at ten forty-five, Jillian looked at me and said, "That better not be a girlfriend."

I didn't have a clue who could possibly be at the door and laughingly answered, "No kidding."

When the door swung open, I first noticed the family resemblance between Jillian and the man. It took me a moment to recognize Officer Jen Wilcox, as she was dressed in jeans, a tee and raincoat.

"Hey Jillian," I yelled. "We forgot your check-in call."

"Oh shit, I left my phone in the car," she yelled back. I could hear bare feet running through the house.

Jillian looked beautiful to me, but I suspect she looked ridiculous to her family. She had changed into a men's large hoodie and sweatpants and her hair was scraggily.

"I'm so sorry!" She hugged Jen and Jeff, as I welcomed them into my home. We had a drink together and Jillian explained that her sister-in-law and brother were both police officers and that Jen had kept her maiden name. When her family saw how comfortable Jillian was, they decided to give us our privacy.

"No offence, Chris. Jillian, can you give me a call when you get home? I don't care what time it is." Jen demanded.

Jillian stared at her sister-in-law for several moments, before turning to me. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, until she told Jen, "I'm not going home tonight." She quickly turned back to me and said, "We aren't having sex, but I want to be with you. Deal?"

I couldn't imagine anything better. I nodded.

As promised, we didn't have sex that night. I woke up at one point, looked down and saw my hard cock sliding in and out of Jillian's mouth. Stupidly, I asked, "What about our deal?"

Her eyes sparkled as she took my above average size cock completely down her throat before answering, "It's morning, stupid."

When I exploded, filling her mouth a few minutes later, she smiled and swallowed every drop.

It took me seven seconds to take Jillian's (my) tee shirt and sweatpants off. I spent an hour exploring every inch of her perfect body, before settling between her widely spread legs. I slowly licked Jilly to three orgasms, each more powerful than the one before. She orgasmed again, when I added a finger and massaged the inner walls of her pussy and she screeched, "What the fuck are you doing to me," when she exploded on two fingers and my tongue."

She was panting hard, when I slid my cock into her warm tight pussy. We made love in the missionary position, before rolling over and letting Jillian climb on top. I stood at the side of the bed and took her doggie style, and we ended in reverse cowgirl, with Jillian rubbing her clit and each of my hands gripping her delicious butt cheeks.

Jillian stayed until Sunday night. We hiked Saturday, went to a brewery and grilled steaks in my backyard. We sunbathed naked, went skinny dipping after dark and made love over and over.

I was raised in a strict Roman Catholic home, but stopped going to church after my parents were senselessly killed. On Sunday, I went to Mass for the first time since my parents' funeral Mass. As we were leaving the church, Jillian leaned in and whispered, "Every Sunday? Please?"

We were standing next to Jillian's car, as she was getting ready to leave, Sunday night. We'd been kissing for a while, when she pulled away. She said, "I...." She couldn't finish her thoughts, but her eyes were pleading, and I knew what she wanted to say. "I love you too," I answered.

Jillian and I were inseparable. She was as happy fishing from my motorboat, as I was day-sailing on her catamaran. We took weekend trips to Montreal Canada, New York City and Washington DC over the first few months of our relationship.

The close friendships I had formed with Dee's brothers and brothers-in-law were quickly replaced by equally strong friendships with Jillian's entire family and friend group. As a well-respected pediatrician, Jillian was a rock-star in the greater Mystic community. We never went anywhere that Jillian wasn't loved and respected and we were constantly surrounded by fun people.

I didn't meet Jillian's parents for almost five months. Her Dad is a PhD Chemist and on the executive committee at Merck, an international pharmaceutical company with its American headquarters in Connecticut.

Her Dad had suffered a serious heart attack and after recovering, he took a sabbatical and he and his wife had traveled the USA in an RV. A week after their return to Connecticut, Jillian and I invited Sandra and Thomas to my home for dinner.

After spending so much time with Jillian, her three brothers and two sisters, their spouses and fourteen children along with multitudes of friends, I suspected that Jillian's parents were regular people. I wasn't worried about meeting them and we had a wonderful time together.

Our conversation that night revolved around me, as Tom and Sandy wanted to get to know me and were genuinely interested in my life. Tom quizzed me about my business and laughed when I referred to myself as a rock salesman. He correctly estimated that I sold many thousands of tons of rock each season and made a decent living.

I was surprised to learn that Tom was involved with the Knights of Columbus, as my dad and Dee's father were. He wanted to know about my Roman Catholic faith, and I admitted, it had been strained by the death of my folks. Jillian did jump in and explained that we'd been going to Church together weekly, and I jokingly admitted she was trying to "saving my dark black soul."

Sandy was much more interested in the strong friendships I'd developed with her family. She had heard many stories about my involvement in different activities, during phone calls, while she and Tom had been traveling. She was pleased that I'd adapted so well and had integrated myself into her clan.

Sandy was trying to explore my other friendships, outside her immediate family. It was a good-natured talk, but each time I laughingly deflected a question, I could see Jillian's brain working, until she finally blurted out, "That bitch!"

Her outburst startled her parents and saddened me, as I suspected our talk would veer in an uncomfortable direction.

"Language!" Sandy firmly stated, but her rebuke was softened by the look of total despair on Jillian's face.

Tears slid over her cheek, as she groaned, "That fucking bitch." She jumped from her chair and landed in my lap with the arms nearly strangling my neck, as she sobbed into my shoulder.

I smiled at her very confused parents and told them, "Jillian has put the pieces together on a dark period of my life."

Jillian groaned and tightened her arms on my neck. After making a long (fake) choking sound and receiving three punches on my back for teasing Jillian, I explained, "My mom and dad were only children, as I am. When they died, I didn't have siblings, aunts, uncles or cousins. I was on my own, apart from my ex-wife's family. My brothers-in-law were my best friends and along with a few husbands of Dee's girlfriends. I lost them in the divorce."

"Surely, your brothers-in-law and friends kept in touch with you and supported you, as they were able too," Sandy insisted.

"Unfortunately, that didn't happen. I'll let Jillian tell you about my divorce, some other time, but the bottom line is, I was alone and very unhappy for almost a year." We were sitting at my patio table, and I looked around my backyard and the ocean beyond and said, "I sometimes wondered if this house would ever be a home again," I ended with a shrug.

With his daughter sitting firmly in my lap, Tom suggested, "If it isn't a home yet, it's getting there quickly." He gave me a knowing look.

Speaking directly to Tom, I told him, "My plan is to give you a month to get used to being home from your travels and then invite you out for a beer. I'd like to share my short- and long-term plans and how they will impact your daughter."

As the implication of what I'd said, hit everyone, Sandy and Jillian looked at Tom. He gave me a fierce look and responded, "If you've got something to say to me, say it now."

The women's looks shifted to me. "I'm in love with your daughter. She's my best friend. I'd like your blessing and Sandra's blessing and I'd like her to be my bride. I'll spend every day trying to make her as happy as she already makes me."

Tom's fierce scowl turned into a gleaming smile as he growled, "Damn right you will!"

When I turned to Jillian, her eyes were wide and she said, "Yes...YES...YESSSSSS," and smashed her lips into mine.

My decision to marry Jillian was an easy one, but it was reinforced over and over, by the small, seemingly insignificant things we constantly did for each other.

I'd never had a nickname, until Jillian started calling me Roc. It took less than a month for family, friends, staff and clients to catch on and I was Roc to everyone and together we were Roc and the Doc. I questioned Jillian when she started call me David again and she explained, "I'm willing to share Roc, but I want David to myself."

Jillian and I love country music and would attend small, medium or large concerts every few weeks. There was a stretch where she had to cancel a concert date night, five straight times over a few months. Jillian had two female partners. Both were married and had children and as a result, Jillian took half of the weekend and night-time calls when a patient was sick. Jillian wanted her partners to be home with their children.

Jillian texted me and asked, "If you're not too mad at me, I'd like to come over." It was 9:30 on the fifth night she cancelled a date. I texted back a quick, "great."

When she walked in the door twenty minutes later, she stopped in her tracks and looked stunned. "What's going on?" She wanted to know.

"I gave the concert tickets to Jen and Jeff and offered to take the kids for an overnight." Jillian's seven-year-old nephew was asleep at the opposite end of the couch, her four-year-old niece was asleep with her head on my lap and the baby, an eighteen-month-old was asleep on my chest.

"You're not mad at me?" She wanted to know.

"For taking care of sick children and worried parents? Really?"

Jillian admitted, "My last three relationships ended, because of my after-office-hours calls."

"Hopefully, one of these days, you'll realize I'm not an asshole. I'm in this for the long-run and I'm not going anywhere." And after I smiled, I told her, "The kids and I had dinner at Queenie's. There are two lobster rolls and wine in the refrigerator."

Jillian helped me put the kids to bed and after scarfing down the lobster rolls and a glass of pinot, she led me to the bedroom and wore me out, over the next couple of hours.

Jillian and I were married on the first Saturday of summer, the following year. The wedding Mass was held at the Catholic church in downtown Mystic, a tiny church building, in the traditional New England style.

I followed Father McSweeney and my best-man Jeff (Jillian's brother) out of the sanctuary and was confused when I saw all two hundred and thirty guests crammed into the groom's side of the church. Almost immediately, the organist started playing a favorite piece from Bach and the doors to the church were opened and Officer Jen, as matron-of-honor was first to process down the aisle. My confusion continued when Jen stopped next to Jeff, and like everyone else, was on my side of the altar.

Jen was followed, moments later, by a beaming Thomas, who nodded and acknowledged each of his guests and on his arms, my bride, who never took her eyes off me.

When they reached me, in front of the alter, Father McSweeney started the ceremony by asking, "Who brings this woman to be married to this man?"

The surprises kept coming, when every family member and friend answered with Thomas, "We do."

After quickly scanning our guests, Jillian turned to me and said, "You've got one hell of a family, Roc. Is there room for one more?"

It was at that point that I realized that Jillian was letting me know that I'd never be alone again and was part of a big, wonderful family.

Sixteen years later:

Jillian led the way down the aisle of Saint Joseph's Cathedral, in Hartford. She was followed by our fourteen-year-old twin daughters, Mallory and Kaitlyn, and our eleven-year-old twin sons, James and Mathew. I brought up the rear.

We were in Hartford to celebrate my father-in-law being installed as The Grand Knight (or Grand Poobah as his family called it) of the Connecticut Knights of Columbus. The installation ceremony and Mass were to be followed by a banquet at the Hartford Marriott. It was a big deal, with over eight hundred dignitaries and guests.

The front five rows on the left side of the main aisle were reserved for the incoming Grand Knights family and as I eased into the fifth row, I took a quick look at the outgoing Grand Knights family sitting on the right side. I was stunned.

"I can't fucking believe it," I thought I said to myself. But when my brother-in-law Steve turned and asked, "You can't fucking believe what?" I knew I'd said it out loud.

I leaned toward Steve and whispered, "My father-in-law is replacing my ex-father-in-law as Grand Poobah." Steve thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. He laughed and spread the gossip. When word finally reached Jillian, she laughed hardest of all and I heard her (stage) whisper, "This is going to be epic!"

Later, at the reception, I was standing in the bar line, when I heard, "Déjà vu, Dave."

I smiled, as I turned toward the voice, remembering how we first met in a bar line at a Knights of Columbus event, nearly two decades earlier. "It's good to see you, Dee." I leaned in and kissed her cheek.

She looked great and was still sexy as hell. "You have a beautiful family. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks Deidra. How about you?" She gave me a goofy smile and admitted, "I'm a three-time loser and haven't had children." And then she chuckled and told me, "My husbands cheated, so I know how awful it feels."

We made small talk as we inched our way to the bar. I had a list of drinks to get for my family and I ordered a gin and tonic for Dee. When all the drinks were loaded onto a tray, Jillian appeared and said, "I'll guess you and Dee want to talk. Take your drinks and I'll bring the rest to our table." And then she held out her hand and said, "Hi Deidra. I'm Jillian and I'm very happy to meet you."

Deidra was equally gracious and responded, "You have beautiful children and I know for a fact; your husband is a great guy."

Their smiles seemed genuine. Jillian took the tray of drinks, and Dee and I found a quiet spot along the wall.

"Did you know that all the couples from our group are divorced?"

"I didn't know that, but I'm not surprised. The only person, I've kept in touch with is Jim."

"What Jim did to Linda was awful," Dee said with certainty.

"What Jim did to Linda was awful? You've got to be kidding me?" I sighed and decided not to argue and simply end our talk. I said, "It was good seeing you, Dee. Stay well."

As I walked across the ballroom toward a smiling throng of family, waiting for my return, I remembered the story Jim had told me:

He and Linda had driven their youngest child from Connecticut to the University of Miami in a U-Haul truck. After emptying the trucks contents in Shelly's dorm room, Jim and Linda returned the U-Haul and before heading to the airport for their flight home, they stopped at an upscale seafood restaurant for an early dinner.

After being seated by their server, Jim lied to Linda, when he excused himself to use the men's room. Jim passed the process server, as he left the restaurant.

Jim was in a taxi, on his way to the airport three minutes later, when he answered Linda's frantic phone call. "What the hell are you doing Jim?" Linda demanded.

Jim calmly told her, "I no longer need to stay married to you, for the kid's sake. I want a divorce."

"What...what...what am I going to do?" She asked desperately.

"Lucky for you," Jim responded. "Marc LaValliere retired from the Miami football team and still lives in the city. Give him a call and let him wear out your throat, cunt and asshole. This time, you don't need to limit yourself to an overnight."