Helper

Gwen,

Okay. I'll be there and will do what I can, but this is the last one. Please don't ask again because I would hate to ever deny you anything, but about this, I would.

Terry

***

Chapter 9

Valentine's Day came, the third following Lacey's departure, and Terry had a hard time concentrating. The memory of that Valentine's Day three years ago and the events of the two since wore heavily on him, but he spent more time than he wished thinking about past good times with her. Equally bad was realizing that he'd probably never see Gwen again.

To make matters worse, he'd come down with a bad cold. His nose was running and his throat was scratchy and hoarse. Some cough medicine helped with his nose, and he was living on cough drops to help soothe his throat. He almost didn't go; between the cold and another horrible Valentine's Day not being something he particularly wanted, he worried that it would be a bad evening even if it still might mean one last chance with Gwen someday. However, he'd promised so, gritting his teeth, he got in his car and headed to Olympus.

As he drove there, he'd become increasingly angry at himself for agreeing and, once more, allowing himself to be Gwen's puppet. He'd decided that he was going to walk in, introduce himself, and tell her that he was done and that he didn't work for Gwen and that, though he was very sorry, she would have to solve her own problems.

"This is the last time I'm ever going to step foot in this place," he growled to himself as he got out of the car. He clenched his fists for a moment, as if strengthening his resolve to follow his plan, before popping in another cough drop.

It was 8:14 PM when he walked through the entrance into the bar.

A woman was sitting on the barstool at the right end, slumped forward with her forehead resting against her hands, which covered her eyes and allowed her to see the shot glass in front of her and little else. She was about 5'-6 and wore a pretty black dress as Gwen had said.

It was her hair and a tattoo on her left upper arm that caught his attention. An almost shoulder-length bob, her hair had a dark brownish-red dye for the bottom two-thirds of its length, with the top being a complimentary brunette base. It shook lightly as she slowly and ever-so-slightly moved her head back and forth.

The tattoo was of the African continent with a small heart being held from below by a pair of hands. Terry had never cared for tattoos personally but thought it was well done.

He realized from watching her for that few seconds that the poor woman appeared to need help more than he needed to rant about their mutual friend Gwen, so he stepped up behind the stool to her left and asked in his hoarse voice, "Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

A wave of her hand could be interpreted as either okay, get lost, or whatever, so he assumed the permissive option.

"Anything you want to talk about?" he asked softly. "All of Gwen's friends have told me that I'm a pretty good listener."

"Well good for them, for you, and for whomever the hell Gwen is," she said, her voice quite low and angry.

He realized then that he'd let Gwen's name slip, probably ruining the little scenario that she'd tried to set up on each of the encounters.

"Sorry," he whispered back. "Just doing my best to help."

"Why? Why would you want to help me?" she asked, her voice barely audible in the noise of the bar.

"Everybody has troubles, and sometimes we all need a helping hand." Since she wasn't looking up at him, he glanced at the tattoo again, with the hands holding the heart.

"Need, yes, but deserve? No. In fact, I don't even know why I should try to help myself, I've screwed up my life and the lives of those I love so much. Now, when I finally realize it, it's too late."

"Why? It's never too late. You can always make a change for the better, if you really want to do it."

"No, it's too late in my case," she said. "You may not believe it but I saw my ex out with a supermodel last week. She's absolutely gorgeous and probably fifteen years younger than me so I can tell you where his interests are. Guess he deserves to be with a supermodel after what I did to him, what I put him through. But, oh, the irony. I finally realize how bad I've messed up only to come home to see he's moved on and I'm the one stuck in the dumpster where I threw it all away. But you wouldn't understand."

As much as he hated it after doing it, he laughed, a hoarse rumble. "I'm sorry, but you might be surprised. My wife, who I loved more than anything in the world, left me but despite all that's happened—hell, I even thought I was falling for Gwen—I still care about her, even after all this time. I don't know if we'd ever be able to get back what we once had, but I'd sure give her a try in a heartbeat."

"If you're giving me that song and dance to get into my panties, you're wasting your time," she said. "I won't be having sex with you tonight, or anything else of the sort, so I advise you to get going; if you're lucky, you might still find someone who'll help you get your rocks off before the evening's out."

All of Gwen's friends had issues, Terry knew, but this was the first who'd been insulting like this. "Listen, lady, I told Gwen I'd come to try to help, but someone has to want help for that to work. You're trapped in your own little personal pity party, not even trying to get out, to make things better. Have fun lady. I'd tell you I hope you find what you're looking for, but in truth, I really don't care."

He stood up and was turning to walk away when he heard her say, in a louder voice that caused his heart to jump and his breath to stop. "That's not true. It's probably a complete waste of time, but I'm going to go see him tomorrow and apologize. I know he's not going to take me back, but I'm going to tell Terry how sorry I am for what I put him and the kids through. I have plenty on my conscience already, so I don't need more."

All while she'd been talking before, he'd been straining to hear her quiet voice with her face down, hidden in her hands. This time, where he could clearly hear her, his heart raced when she spoke up and felt as if it was going to burst out of his chest when she said "Terry." It was then, too, that it struck him: Gwen's "L.J." stood for Lacinda Jane!

Using the diminutive that she'd always used with him, he said, speaking above a whisper for the first time, "Lacey, it will probably be really hard, but I think Terry may just give you that chance. I think he has issues, too, but I suspect he still loves you, more than you'd guess. It probably won't be easy, and I suspect it may take a while to rebuild trust, but I think he'll work with you to see if it can be done. In fact, I think I can guarantee it, on both counts."

Realization that he'd said her name without her giving it to him caused her to move the hair out of her face, drop her hands, and look at him as he was still speaking, spilling the truth that was in his heart. Her mouth fell open, her eyes widened, and tears flowed.

"Terry! How'd you...?"

Realizing that, somehow, Gwen had set him up, that maybe the whole thing with her had been a setup, getting Gwen and him together, slowly driving them apart, and then steering him back to Lacey, he shook his head with an incredulous smile. "It doesn't matter. We're here together now, and that's all that does."

They spent the evening together, talking and laughing and even crying at times, making up for lost time and getting to know each other once again, all while Terry tried to keep her from getting his cold. In the end, Lacey did go home with Terry, but there were no naked, sweaty bodies writhing and moaning together. Instead, they held each other as they talked until late that evening.

She told a little about her travels and spending time on staff at an orphanage in Cameroon. Terry told her about their family during her absence, and they watched Ellie's graduation video. They each avoided mentioning any romantic entanglements during their time apart, leaving the past in the past, and only thinking about the possibility of a future. Terry felt happy, and Lacey's heart, so close to breaking for so long, felt like it was finally on the road to healing. As they lay in bed late that evening, they came to similar realizations.

"Lacey, these past three years have been tough, but I hope we can put them behind us and move forward to see if we can still have a chance together."

"I hope so, too, Terry. If we can, this will have been the best Valentine's Day ever."

"Sweetie, just being with you, it already is."

***

In the days that followed, they were slow and careful, getting to know each other again after their long period of separation (and not only because of Terry's cold, which slowly got better). They decided not to tell their kids, Terry's sisters or Lacey's dad or little brother, or any of their friends, not wanting to get anyone's hopes up about their possible future but also to avoid the virtual cheerleading from the sidelines that would likely result and the accompanying distractions.

They also avoided rushing the physical aspects that they felt might distract them or lead them into something before they were ready. After having been married for 25 years the first time, though, slow was a subjective term, with each beginning to feel the physical need for the other sooner rather than later, with both realizing what they truly wanted...

Coming home from the nightclub where they'd had dinner followed by dancing, Lacey was seated in the passenger seat with her left leg tucked under her so she could look at him. "Terry, your dance instructor deserves kudos. You really can dance and you looked really sexy doing it. I enjoyed moving with you and holding you. It..."

"What?"

"It felt really good and...well, I didn't want to stop."

"We have a stereo at home with some good songs. We can make our own little dance floor in the living room, if you'd like."

She laughed. "I wasn't talking about the dancing, silly."

Pulling up at a light, he looked over at her to see her flirtatious smile. "I really liked holding you, too, Lacey, and I know it's getting harder to control my urges, to let you go."

"Me, too, Terry. Me, too."

They pulled into the garage and entered the kitchen.

"I got us a bottle of white zinfandel," he said. "The kind you like. Want to stay up and watch a movie with me while we drink it?"

"I think that would be nice, but let's watch it in bed in case I fall asleep, okay? I'll go up and change into my night clothes while you get the glasses and pop the cork."

Terry agreed and she went upstairs. As soon as she was out of his sight, she moved faster, almost at a run.

Lacey was technically staying in the guest room and using the guest bathroom, but she'd spent every night in their king-size bed with Terry wearing long, flannel pajamas with the couple minding their manners in accordance with their agreement.

When Terry entered the bedroom carrying the tray with the wine, the bucket, and the glasses, Lacey was already sitting up in the bed with the cover pulled up around her, keeping her warm.

"Terry, I have a question. Did you really mean what you said about it getting harder to stop when we're together?"

"Yeah, Sweetie. Every word."

"You don't have to, you know."

"Don't have to what?"

"Stop. You don't have to stop if you don't want to."

She pulled the cover back to reveal, not flannel pajamas, but her red and black lace baby doll that Terry hadn't seen since that Valentine's Day just over three years.

"Wow, you're so beautiful and so sexy, particularly in that."

"I hoped you'd like it. When I put my things in storage before going to Africa, I donated a lot of things and tossed most of my sexy lingerie, but I saved this one...in case we ever decided to try to get back together."

He handed her a glass of wine and then got into bed next to her. "So you broke it out tonight? For us to get back together?"

"You know what they say, when it's really important, a girl's got to do everything needed to seal the deal."

"Hmm, I don't remember that quote. Who said it?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was me," she said with a grin. "I think it's really, really important and should be a quote if it's not one already."

Looking into her eyes, he nodded in agreement before their lips met. They'd had some careful, rather chaste kisses of greeting after his cold got better, but this was a full-contact kiss that seemed to bring fireworks to their world as their eyes closed and they were lost in each other. Their lips roamed over the other's and their tongues swirled, further igniting their passions as Lacey's hands raced over the buttons of Terry's shirt. It was barely off and flying off the bed before she switched to his belt and pants as he took her in his arms, crushing her against him.

"Terry, I've missed you so much. Make love to me," she gasped as she struggled to push his pants down.

"I've missed you, too, Sweetie, and I don't want to ever be without you again." Using his feet, he pushed his pants the rest of the way off and out from under the cover, where they fell to the floor. His hands were busy, holding and caressing her, kissing her neck and shoulder before working down her chest to the firm swell of the top of her breasts in the little nightie.

"I love this on you," he said, "but I think it's time to unwrap the wonderful present inside it."

"The present's all yours, Honey," she said before kissing his neck and running her hand over his chest, down his sides, and then on down to cup his balls before taking his cock in her hands. "I've missed this so much," she said, "all of it—"

Her moan interrupted the rest of what she was saying as Terry massaged her breasts, sensual caresses around the sides and then becoming firmer, moving up and around before sweeping down her center. On repeating it, he added a kiss to each, and then a series of kisses around her peak, swirling a finger around each nipple and then gently drawing a hard little bud into his mouth. He suckled softly, repeatedly, while he continued to massage her, letting the sensations run through her, leading her to arch her back as if trying to feed him more. He obliged, taking a bit more and little more firmly as she moaned.

Her moans matched her strokes, up and down his hard member, leading to a moan of his own. Feeling she was ready and worried that if he allowed her to continue too long it would ruin the mood with a mess, he slipped a hand away from her breast, moving it down her side, over her belly, and then down to her mound of Venus where he felt a short tuft of hair in the middle and glorious smoothness on the sides where she'd waxed herself. He rubbed softly and then again more firmly a few times before dipping lower, grazing into the start of her crease, down her hood, and then, with a reverse, catching her clitoris.

"Ooooooh," she breathed, releasing her grasp on his penis and switching to holding his hand, where she pushed him down, toward her depths. Terry traced around her clit a few times as her moans intensified before sliding his fingers over her smooth labia and then two going into her wetness. In and out he went, a bit deeper each time until he reached his knuckle, with each stroke rubbing her clit in each direction. Her moans got stronger, louder, faster, as he sped up, her face contorting as she fought, trying to extend it as long as possible before she cried out when her orgasm could be denied no more.

She closed her legs tight, trapping his hand inside her, squeezing him before she could relax. When she did, he started kissing her again as he moved around, positioning himself. When Lacey spread her legs wide and pulled her knees up as high as she could, he applied some lubricant and then rubbed the head of his penis up and down her slit before finding the opening and sliding in.

Lacey groaned, deep and guttural, uncontrolled, as his member filled her, deeper with each slow stroke as he made his way completely inside. She held him tight against her, her arms wrapped around him, intent on keeping him with her, within her, loving her. Feeling herself ready, she begged, "Make love to me now, Terry. Don't stop, please."

Slow and steady was his rhythm as he stroked her, in and out, over and over, wishing he could make it last forever. It wasn't meant to be, though, for Lacey joined the act, working her pelvis in its own little dance against his thrusting as she started her inner muscles flexing, gripping to match his movements.

Feeling her engaged, Terry picked up his pace and his force, driving into and against her as she hugged him as tight as she could, feeling their passions flow, their breath shorten, and their moans get louder.

Terry's face contorted as he fought his urge to release, to let himself go, but he didn't want to do it without her, too, so he kept going until he heard her change, where moans became higher and then a continuous groan. "I'm coming, Terry. Please! With me!"

She crashed through her barrier just seconds later and Terry, able to take no more, joined her as he shot over and over into her.

When they disengaged, Terry lay beside her, quietly, in a state of mutual bliss, with them holding each other.

Lacey finally spoke first. "Terry?"

"What, Sweetheart?"

"Considering everything we've talked about and all the precautions we're trying to take, it's probably too soon, but...I don't care...I love you."

"I love you, too, Lacey."

Their kiss that followed was passionate, long and loving, and despite it being after 10 PM, they went on to prove that the night was still young.

***

Chapter 10

It was a Sunday morning in April when Lacey's phone rang with an incoming video call. She'd been speaking with the kids much more frequently and in much more depth in recent weeks, trying to heal their relationships, so she smiled to see Ethan reaching out to her. She sat up in bed with pillows propped behind her, pulling the comforter up to be sure she was properly covered since her night clothes had been shed with great abandon sometime during the night. She glanced over to see that Terry, in the corresponding state of undress, was out of the picture before she answered the call.

"Hi, Mom! How are you?"

"Good morning, son, what's up?"

"Mom, I've told you I've been seeing Samantha for almost two years and that it's been getting serious."

"Yes?"

She was barely controlling her grin, but Terry, out of the picture, wasn't bothering. He and Ethan had discussed this issue several times in recent weeks. He was nodding as Ethan said, "Mom, Sammie and I got engaged last night! We're getting married!"

Lacey was ecstatic for her firstborn, giving a smile and a little clap as she propped the phone up with her legs. "I'm so happy for you, Ethan! What are your plans? When's the big day?"

As Ethan filled in the details, Sylvester, the big Maine Coon cat, decided he needed some of the attention so he jumped up on the bed and started rubbing on Terry, who took the hint. He petted the cat and rubbed behind its ears as Ethan and Lacey talked. It wasn't long before Sylvester decided he needed loving from Lacey, too, so he moved from Terry over to Lacey, letting Lacey pet him as she talked.

The conversation started to wind down after a bit. "I've got to call Dad now, and then Aidan and El—Mom? Wait! Is that...is that Sylvester?"

"Sylvester, did you say hi to Ethan?" she asked coyly.

"Mom? Mom! Are you with Dad?"

Terry waved a hand in front of the camera before angling the phone toward himself, now covered. "Congratulations, son! We're very happy for you!"

"HO-LY FUCK!" He was grinning so broadly he could barely speak before he realized what he'd said. "Sorry! I've got to call Aide and El, now! Talk to you two in a bit. Family conference call. You'd better be ready to spill!"