Esther and Star Ch. 05

After a brief exchange of loaded looks between mother and daughter, the young woman apologized to me.

"It's nothing," I said.

Diane said, "Now that the press is leaving you alone would you like me to give you a ride home?"

Glancing at Joanne, I said, "Maybe that's for the best."

***

The ride to Star's apartment was silent; it was just me and Diane. When she pulled under the awning and stopped the car, she turned to me.

"We couldn't be a couple. It wouldn't work, love," she began.

I shrugged. "Maybe, I guess."

"I'm forty-six years old; you're just entering adulthood. When you're my age, I'll be nearly seventy."

I didn't say anything.

She continued, "And you may want children someday, but I wouldn't be able to give you any."

"I don't know."

"Don't be saddened. We're friends, aren't we? New friends?"

I nodded.

"And we'll always have the memory of last night. I know I will cherish it always."

"It was nice," I said.

"I don't wish for what's happened between us to ever ruin our friendship," she said.

"No. Me, too."

"You'll come to the bookstore again, won't you? You'll visit me there and let me help you find more books?"

"Yeah."

Diane took my hand in hers. She brought it to her lips and kissed it. After releasing my hand, she caressed my cheek and said, "Let me be a mother to you for a moment. You—you told me things yesterday, and I've thought long and hard about your words and I need to say something. May I give you some motherly advice?"

I nodded.

"You mustn't hate yourself—or your life. You mustn't dwell on past—or current—mistakes. What matters is that you learn from them and drive onward. It isn't our failures that make us who we are; it is how we respond to them that truly defines us."

It was deep, what she had said. I didn't have the words to respond.

She continued to touch me like I was some precious keepsake, saying, "Five years ago, I swore off relationships because of mistakes and poor decisions. I made a promise to myself that I was finished with men and sex. Then you came. What happened between us—at the bookstore and in my bedroom last night—reminded me how precious little time we have to live the kind of life we desire, if only we would allow ourselves to move past our bad choices and seek it out, don't you see?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to consider her words and not think about the thrumming buzz of her fingers on my skin.

"You read Grapes of Wrath. If you can do that, you're no fool. You're intellgent. You can start a new life, a new job. You can go to college. You can leave behind the life you hate and find one you'll love."

I nodded.

"Will you? I know you don't owe me anything. It is I who owes you everything, but will you do that for me?"

I looked at her. "Yes."

"Thank you," she said. "And remember the past only insofar as it helps you build the future that you desire. Otherwise, let it go."

"Okay."

She drew me close, and we kissed. Her lips broke away first, and she whispered into my ear. "Thank you for my life, and thank you for making love to me."

I nodded. "Thanks for helping me through this."

She smiled.

I climbed out of her car and walked toward my apartment. The passenger window of her car rolled open. I turned around.

"Come see me when you've finished Count of Monte Cristo!" she called.

I nodded, waving.

The apartment was dead and empty, save for the soft thrumming of the air conditioner. While my phone charged, I sat in the family room and read about Edmond Dantes, returning from the sea to his love, Mercedes.

At some point, I set the book aside—it was going to be a good one, I could tell already.

Diane's parting words were ricocheting around in my head.

***

The medication made me sleepy, and I awoke on the chair with the book in my lap an hour later. I rose, grabbed my re-charged phone and turned it on.

Holy shit.

This was going to take a while.

I started with Star's texts. There were lots, and she clearly deserved a response from me. The key bit of information was that Esther's father's funeral would be in two days—Wednesday.

Esther had sent two texts. She was proud of me. She was concerned about my injuries. She needed to hear from me.

My parents were waiting to hear from me before they flew up.

Never a big social media guy, the only way for friends from back home to reach me was by email and phone, and my old friends weren't big email guys. So, there were lots of texts asking about me, congratulating me, and so on.

Then, I don't know how a shitload of random people got my number, but there were tons of congratulatory texts from unknown numbers, and a few requests for interviews from news stations.

The voice mails were more of the same. It was nice hearing the voices. I got the impression my mailbox was full because the last recorded message was from the day after the shooting, and I found it hard to believe no one else called in the interim.

So, I began responding, staring with old friends and saving family for last. I kept the friend messages simple: "Thanks. I'm okay. Talk later."

I called my supervisor. He told me to come back in a week's time. The on-site physician would evaluate me for a return. In the meantime, I would be getting paid sick leave at 40 hours per week.

I called my parents. They were sweet, but I told them to stay home.

I sent a text to Esther: "I'm okay. Home again. Hope everything there is as good as can be. Thinking about you and your family a lot." I hesitated before sending it, and then I added, "Love" and my first initial to the end. I sent it that way.

Response texts began rolling in. I ignored them.

Star called, and I answered.

"Hey, Star."

"You're okay? You're really okay?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, my gosh, you are amazing! Everyone here has been talking about you and watching the news. We've watched the video hundreds of times. Esther has been worried sick. We all have. Where have you been?"

"Hiding from the press."

Silence followed this answer. If there was anyone who understood why I might avoid the limelight, it was Star. She finally spoke. "I figured that was it."

"Yeah."

"Tell me about your injuries."

I described them, explaining what I could and couldn't do and how I was self-sufficient.

"So when we spoke a few days ago, you were in the hospital? You had just gotten out of surgery or something?"

"Yeah."

"That's so crazy," she said, adding, "Oh, my gosh, I'm getting scared right now thinking about it."

"It's over, Star. I'm good."

"I'm flying back tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Take care of you. Esther would come, but the funeral is Wednesday, and she needs to be here."

"You're not staying for it?"

"Dumbass, the divorce papers worked. She's got her family back. I'm a fifth wheel around here. Plus, Esther's worried. She wanted someone there for you, so it's me."

"You don't have to. I'm okay."

"I'm coming."

"Okay," I said. "Hey, Star?"

"Huh?"

"Do you know if Esther mailed the divorce papers?"

"I think so. Pretty sure she had to in order to stay at home."

"Okay."

Star read my mind. "But, you can retract them! You don't have to see it through!"

"Right."

***

I read and read and read. Count of Monte Cristo is fucking awesome. That fucker, Edmond Dantes, got so screwed. He had it all, and then a bunch of jealous fucks ruined his life. The troubles of Dantes made me think, again, of Diane's advice about the past and the future.

I wished I had listened more carefully to her words.

I wished her soft hands hadn't been touching me, distracting me.

I wished I could have licked her pussy some more.

***

I was reading on the couch when Star got home. It was just after midnight. She didn't say a word. She put her bags in her room, showered, and came out in black panties and a tee-shirt with a towel over her wet hair.

˘She sat beside me. Drawing her knees up, she snuggled against me on my good side. Neither of us said a word. I held her close.

We must have sat together like that for twenty minutes, maybe more, before she sat up, tugged the towel from her hair, and said, "Tell me how I can help you."

This was Star at her most sincere. There would be no jokes. No stupid games or tricks.

She waited for an answer.

I felt empty. What did I need?

I glanced at her tiny black panties and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "Let me use my tongue?"

A look of deepest sympathy spread over her face.

She rose and took my hand. Leading me to her bedroom, she let go of my hand and crawled onto the bed. One side of Star's panties had ridden inside, exposing a curvy swath of tanned flesh. Even in my state of emotional numbness, my heart ached at the sight of Star's ass and her beautiful, naked thighs as she made her way to the headboard on all fours.

Stacking two pillows, she spun over and laid down. The pillows propped her head; the rest of her body lay prostrate. Watching me, she raised her knees and spread them wide. Then, Star reached under one leg and drew the crotch of her panties aside. Star's eyes fell to the place between her legs. Her lips fell open as she surveyed her pussy. Then, she looked at me, waiting.

***

End Note: Errors belong to me. Thanks for reading and leaving your thoughts. More soon.