I'll Be There For You

"Good, the kids are probably still asleep. Let's get up. I'll start a fire so I can get breakfast going. I've got my campfire cooking utensils and a big cast iron frying pan in the car."

"Not before you take care of . . .,"

"Yeah, I'll do that first thing. Just like every morning."

I got up, unzipped the tent and stepped outside and stretched. When I looked over at the kids tent, the door was open. When I looked inside, there weren't any sleeping bodies. It wasn't early. The sky was dark and overcast. I turned back to the tent. Peter was just coming through the door into the vestibule.

"The kids are all up." I looked down. Peter's erection was painfully obvious. There was no way to hide it. But even if I found it mildly amusing, I didn't want the kids to ask questions. "I'll run interference while you get to the bathroom."

When I went inside, I could hear all the kids in the kitchen. Peter, carrying my pillow in front of him, ducked down the hallway toward the bedrooms without being seen. The kids were all at the kitchen table, each with a bowl of cereal in front of them.

"Good morning, guys," I greeted them, receiving responses of "Hi, Mom," and "Good morning, Mama Sage." Along with smiles and giggles from the younger kids. Brianna, though she greeted me, didn't look up from her bowl of cereal. It looked like she was blushing.

"Is my dad still asleep," Nicole asked.

"No, I think he went to the bathroom," I responded. Peter arrived a couple of moments later. Much to my relief, the prominence was gone.

"Hey, how's everyone this morning?" Peter asked. When he saw they were eating, he looked disappointed. "I was going to make bacon and eggs over a campfire for breakfast.

Peter got smiles, giggles, and morning greetings, too. Once again, Brianna responded but didn't look up from her cereal. This time there was no doubt in my mind. She was definitely blushing.

"The radio said it's going to rain this morning," Brianna said, still not looking up.

"We were hungry," the rest of them added together.

I looked over at the clock. It was a little after nine. Three large boxes of cereal were on the counter next to the nearly empty gallon of milk. Two boxes were empty, the other was half empty. None had been opened before that morning. I suppressed a laugh. Hungry didn't begin to describe it.

"Want some eggs?" I asked Peter.

"Sounds good. Hey guys, if it's going to rain, finish eating and get outside. Zip the tent windows closed and zip the tent door and its window closed, too. Both tents."

It started raining a few minutes after they came back inside. There was no sign of giggling and Brianna's embarrassment seemed to have passed. The kids went directly to the den and started playing an auto racing game, taking turns with surprisingly little bickering.

"Peter, I think you should have a talk with Brianna. She got a little embarrassed when I came into the kitchen." I told Peter, keeping my voice low.

"I saw," Peter said softly. "She was blushing pretty brightly when I came in. I'll take her for a ride and have a talk with her after I shower. Mind if we stay for dinner? I'll take Brianna to the supermarket with me to pick something up if you'll keep an eye on the rest of them."

"Okay." Peter gave me a quick kiss, winked at me and went down the hallway to the bathroom.

When he came back, he went into the den. "Brianna, we're staying for dinner. Want to help me pick out something for dinner?"

"Okay, Dad."

"Go get cleaned up and dressed. We'll leave as soon as you come out." Brianna dutifully made her way to the bathroom.

They were gone about an hour. Brianna gave me a hug after she set a bag of groceries down and went into the den where everyone was back to playing video games.

"How did it go?" I asked.

"She's okay. She was embarrassed about two things. About the rest of them giggling and making jokes when she could tell they didn't quite understand. But she was also a little embarrassed that we might have been intimate where she might wake up and hear us."

"What did you tell her?" I asked.

Peter hesitated for a moment. "I don't have to tell her we have been intimate. She's pretty bright. But I assured her all we did last night was sleep. I explained that just because a man and woman are sleeping together doesn't necessarily mean they're going to have sex. Adults do go to bed and just go to sleep. And I assured her that nothing like that would ever happen while they were right next to us, for all intents and purposes in the same room."

It put my concerns about Brianna to rest.

It was cool and a light rain fell the rest of the day. Peter and I made lasagna for dinner while the kids entertained themselves. Brianna had brought her summer reading. Peter, Brianna, Nicole, and Brandon went home just after nine. They came back a few days later to knock down the tents and collect the sleeping bags I'd hung to air out before going to work on Monday morning.

Peter and I fell back into our respective routines. We traded a couple evenings a week at each other's homes, kids included. Bowled once a week. And took as many opportunities as we could to spend time in each other's arms. Which meant we were regulars at our resort, often in the same cottage. We maintained a passionate but somewhat separate existence for another year before something happened that changed everything.

Annabelle never wanted to trick or treat on Halloween. I understood and never pressured her about it. Tyler, for some reason followed her lead. Instead, they both stayed home and helped hand out treats to the kids that rang our doorbell. Peter's kids made the rounds with their aunt and cousins, who lived on a nearby street in the same neighborhood, while Peter stayed home and answered the doorbell.

Malcolm's parents wanted to have Annabelle and Tyler overnight for Halloween weekend. I reminded them that their grandchildren didn't trick or treat. Sue coincidentally invited Brianna, Nicole, and Brandon to spend the weekend, Friday and Saturday nights. Saturday was Halloween. Peter and I jumped at the chance to spend a weekend together.

I dropped my kids at their grandparents before dinner and hurried home. Peter was joining me for dinner. I put two steaks on the counter to come to room temperature, made a salad, and put two potatoes in the oven. Then I went to my room to get a little dolled up. Nothing over the top, we were staying in. I hoped I'd spend much of the weekend wearing little to nothing. I just wanted to look a little sexier than when the kids were around.

Peter was appropriately appreciative of my appearance when he arrived. And I noted he had put in a little effort to look good -- nicer clothes than he usually wore outside work unless we were going out to dinner. Freshly showered and shaved, hair recently trimmed and tied back neatly. I was convinced that when he died, he would be buried with his ponytail.

We had a nice dinner, polished off most of a bottle of merlot, and snuggled in front of the TV. For all of about forty minutes before we were in my bedroom together for the first time.

I couldn't help myself. I giggled when Peter fetched a box of condoms from his overnight bag. I smiled and turned serious when he looked at me strangely. "Peter, it's time we stopped using those."

Peter's questions came quickly. "Okay. I'm not entirely against having a child with you. But shouldn't we talk about it first? I know it's the twenty-first century, but a pregnant single woman does still draw a little attention. Especially, working in a hospital setting. What would your parents think? How about the kids? Tyler's eight now. That's a lotta years between siblings."

"I won't get pregnant, Peter. After our scare, I went to my OB-GYN for a contraceptive implant."

"Oh."

"You're not angry I didn't tell you?"

"No, of course not. I can't say I blame you. A broken condom can be unnerving."

I smiled. "Let's make up for lost time." I snuggled closely to Peter and whispered, "I'm looking forward to tonight. I can't wait to have feel you inside me with nothing between us."

Peter swept me off my feet, and we fell into bed together. We indulged our every desire for the next several hours. Sometimes we made love, slowly and tenderly building to a soaring crescendo. Other times, our coupling was heated, unbridled fucking. It seemed we only needed a brief period to recharge each time. Sometimes making a quick run to the kitchen for ice water and a snack. By the time we returned to my bedroom, we were embracing again, excitedly ready to explore how next to express our love for each other.

I'm not sure when we ran out of gas, but I woke up again a little after two. It was Halloween morning but that didn't really cross my mind at the time. What did was that I was incredibly thirsty. Peter was face down on the mattress, dead to the world. He didn't respond, not even a moan, when I gently shook him to ask if he wanted a drink. I gingerly made my way to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and drank it down without stopping.

I started to fill the glass a second time but stopped when I felt something running down my leg. Though it had been a long time, I still knew what it was. And I still looked. I tore a sheet off the paper towel roll and wiped my leg dry, then held it between my legs while I made my way to the hallway bathroom to clean myself up.

After I cleaned up as best I could, I leaned on the sink with my eyes closed and took a deep breath. I was exhausted. But I also felt ecstatic. I'd just spent an incredible evening with a man I loved. And had another night to look forward to. I felt myself smile as I hoped Peter didn't die from sexual exhaustion before he went home Sunday morning.

While I stood with my eyes closed, fingertips softly caressed my back. The soft touch warmed me. "Mmmm, that feels nice," I whispered. "You were asleep when I got out of bed. I hope I didn't wake you."

"He'll be there for you, now. Goodbye, my love."

I opened my eyes in shock. Malcolm was behind me in the mirror. Almost before I realized what I was seeing, the reflection began to fade. I turned quickly but he wasn't there. When I looked at the mirror again, I saw only my face, bedhead hair, and upper torso.

I hurried to my bedroom, badly shaken. When I fell into bed, Peter opened his eyes and my anxiety evaporated.

He reached up and cupped my cheek and smiled. "I love you, Sage," he whispered. "I want to make love to you again. But I'd rather talk for a minute. Is that okay?"

"Sure, we can talk. I'm not so sure about the making love part," I said.

Peter laughed softly. "Me neither." He hesitated for a moment. "Sage, I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to spend a night with you and our children once or twice each week. I don't want to have to figure out how to sneak off so we can hold each other and make love. I want us to be together every day after work and every night when it's time for bed. I want you to be the first thing I see in the morning. Will you please marry me?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I kissed him and somehow, we made love once more before we fell asleep in each other's arms.

The smell of coffee and bacon woke me. Peter, wearing one of my aprons, was standing beside the bed with a tray when I opened my eyes. He'd made breakfast, coffee, bacon and eggs, lightly buttered toast, and a small bowl of fresh mixed berries. I sat up and he set the tray down. He bent over and kissed me tenderly and turned away to go back to the kitchen. Peter's naked butt cheeks protruded from the back of the apron. I tried hard not to laugh. I managed to hold it in until he was out of the room.

"I heard that!" he said from somewhere down the hallway.

I'm not sure how Peter managed to be so patient. He didn't mention his proposal again. Just waited until I made my decision.

Ultimately, I said no. I was worried about finances. We didn't talk about money until after he proposed. We both earned a good salary. But Peter's situation differed from mine. And not because he'd been irresponsible. Even though his wife worked, she hadn't been insured as heavily as Malcolm was. Plus, her illness had been a long and expensive road, even with good medical insurance. It eaten their savings, drained their retirement accounts, and taken the proceeds from her life insurance. Peter still had a significant mortgage. He worried about how he'd pay for Nicole's and Brandon's education if they wanted to continue their studies beyond high school. Brianna wasn't going to be a problem because she already had universities chasing her and offering the sun and moon if she attended. I planned to help Nicole and Brandon as much as possible.

I wanted the same things Peter did. We talked at length and planned out our future. Both of us were pragmatic. We both consulted an attorney and codified our path forward in a contractual agreement. I felt I had to protect my financial situation in case our relationship fell apart. It sounds callous but my attorney advised me to protect myself. And Peter's attorney assured him I wasn't being unfair or unreasonable.

Together, we bought a plot of land across town. Not far from our resort cottage. I used my nest egg to build the house we needed to house five kids while we waited to sell our houses. We listed our houses once construction on our new home was well under way. Peter's house sold first. Peter gave me his contribution once his house sold, about a week after we moved. Mine sold a couple months later.

The talk with our kids went well. They were all excited though, being kids, they couldn't understand that life wouldn't be perfect. Better than before we got together but not perfect. Brianna, Nicole, Brandon and I have our differences. Peter has similar issues with Annabelle and Tyler. The five kids love each other like brothers and sisters. And squabble like brothers and sisters. Brianna's away at school now; she's already completed the equivalent of her third year at an elite engineering and science university. It looks like she'll complete her master's degree before she turns eighteen. A PhD is likely in the future for her.

My parents and Malcolm's parents think highly of Peter. I don't think they're happy that we haven't married. Peter's parents adore me and my kids. They seem more open-minded about our situation. Peter's late wife's parents are another matter entirely. For one thing, they're obscenely wealthy. They adore their grandchildren but only tolerate Peter. And only because he makes sure his children see them. I don't think they ever liked him. They definitely don't like me. Listening to Peter, I wonder how committed they are to Peter's children. I understand they spend lavishly on their other grandchildren but modestly on Brianna, Nicole, and Brandon. He wouldn't care except he knows his kids see how differently their cousins are treated. All in all, Peter and I, and our children, have a good life together. Not perfect, but what relationship is.

I think things are about to change again. Probably soon. I had to go to corporate headquarters for meetings recently. While there, I was unexpectedly pulled out of a meeting. To be interviewed for a newly created position, corporate vice president for education and development. I didn't mention it to Peter when I got back because I knew there were several other well-qualified candidates who I thought far more likely to receive an offer. But the hospital president called me this afternoon to tell me corporate is tendering an offer sometime this week. Apparently, corporate was impressed with a nurse's clinical training program I put together in cooperation with a nearby university and want me to develop similar programs across the hospital system.

I'm going to talk to Peter about it after the kids are in bed tonight. I'm hopeful he'll want me to take the position and will go with me if I like the offer. And that he still wants to have me as his wife. I understand the hospital where corporate is located will be looking for a plant engineer, an opportunity Peter is well qualified to fill. But if he doesn't want to go, I'm perfectly happy to stay put and keep things as they are.

I still think of him sometimes. But he hasn't made his "presence" felt again. I'm sure Malcolm is gone now. Sometimes I wonder if it wasn't all in my imagination. But every once in a while, someone mentions the Christmas of the flying baby, and it all becomes real again.

Whether or not Malcolm's spirit really watched over us or it was all just my imagination, I'll always know that Malcolm somehow kept his promises. He was there for me. And now Peter is.