Love in the Lights

She sat quiet for a second, looking into her cup

"But you still remember him?" I asked.

She looked up, blinking. Then smiled. "Oh, yes. His name was Jordan. He was dark haired with dark eyes. He played football in high school. Even went on to college on a sports scholarship."

"What happened to him?" I asked, looking at her eyes.

She shook her head.

"I don't really know. I know he married, I heard that from my sister. I met Tom and moved here. I do hope he had a good life. I know I have." She shrugged silently.

"Would you go back and change it if you could? Never give it away till you met Tom?" I paused as I realized I had just asked something she might feel very strongly about. I picked up my coffee to hide my unease.

She shook her head. "You can't do that. It's too major a life event. Even if you could go back in time... to say change one little thing, not a big thing just something small, it would unravel everything that makes you... you."

"How do you mean?" I asked, setting my cup back down on the table.

"Well, my father...back when I was very young, had the chance to buy a large piece of land. We didn't have a lot of money at that time, but we could have gotten enough together to buy the property. My father decided not to buy it at the last moment." Emma blew across the top of her tea. "Now years later that land sold to a developer for millions. Father regretted that he had changed his mind for the rest of his life. But if he had...my sister would have never met her husband. I wouldn't have felt like a child and been looking to prove I was a woman. I wouldn't have slept with Jordan, and he wouldn't have left me. I wouldn't have met Tom. I wouldn't have moved here, and I wouldn't be your neighbor."

She gave me a lop sided smile. "Would I be the same me, if all that had happened?"

Pondering that question, I sat looking at the fire for a few minutes. When I looked up she seemed to be lost in her thoughts.

"Your father passed?" I asked softly.

She looked over at me blinking. "Hum, what? Oh, yes. Years ago. The year before your family moved in across the street in fact. Why do you ask?"

"I was wanting to thank him for not buying that land. I would hate not having had you for my neighbor," I said.

She smiled, her eyes twinkling in the fire light.

"Well, thank you Timothy." She grinned as she used my full name, something she hadn't done in years. "You might have done better though if we hadn't. It might have been a young couple living here, maybe one with a beautiful daughter about your age."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't change that. If I could go back, I wouldn't change that for anything."

She smiled, pleased, and took a sip of her tea.

"So what would you change? If you could change something,what would it be?" she asked me, teasing, her flirting smile there.

Catching that playful tone, I was about to see what she would say if I told her I would have kissed her that day at the farmers market. But even as I went to say that, another thought came to mind, and stole that happy thought from me. She saw my face as it fell.

"Tim? What is it?" she asked concerned.

I took a deep breath.

"I would change my dad's plane ticket."

For a second I saw her lip tremble, and her eyes shined. Inside I felt that grip of sorrow, pain, and loss wanting to tear at me, and then that hated image of the plane hitting that wall of silver flashed before my eyes. The fireball...I looked towards the fireplace but had to close my eyes as these soft, gentle flames made what my mind was showing me all the worse. I felt her move, and then she was sitting beside me. She reached past me and set her cup on the table next to mine. Then her arms were tight around me, holding me to her. I awkwardly put my arm around her and pulled her tighter, wanting, no needing that closeness. That comfort. There were no tears, but the agony hadn't dimmed in the passing of two and a half months.

"I know, Tim. I know." She gently rocked me in her arms.

Turning my head, I buried my face in her hair, the warm scent of her perfume filling me. The soft comfort of being held began to push back at the hard agony of what this year had taken from me. Her warmth fought against the terrible images that tried again and again to flash through my mind. After a bit I softened my hold on her, not wanting to hurt her, but I did not turn her loose.

It was as my pain began to recede that I realized she was getting comfort from this as well. Her losses were, by their very nature far closer, more personal and intimate than my own. How? I asked myself. How could anyone endure what she had? To see someone you love so fiercely fall to nothing before your eyes, all the while being helpless to make it not happen. How?

We sat like that for quite awhile, holding one another, giving and receiving comfort just by each others' presence. In that time the fire burned down to a point I should have gotten up and added more wood...but I knew I would not be the one to let go first.

I felt her move, and looking, I found her face just inches from mine. Here eyes met mine and she slowly smiled.

"I get through every day thinking that he wouldn't want me to be sad. I know that your dad would feel the same about you." She eased up on her hug, and I reluctantly turned her loose and sat back.

"I know but... I miss him. And Mr. Jackson," I added quickly as I thought of it.

She giggled.

"I think he wouldn't mind if you called him Tom," she told me, her eyes blinking away tears.

I nodded.

"He told me to on more than one occasion." I shrugged. "It's like with me calling you Mrs. Emma. Mom always insisted on my being formal with my..." I paused as I caught what I was about to say to her.

She heard it anyway.

"With your elders?" she asked grinning. She poked me in the ribs, and then moving a bit, snuggled into the side of me. She spread the blanket over both our legs. I lifted my arm out of the way, then put it around her. She looked up at me for a second, as if surprised by that, and then she snuggled in tighter to my side.

After a bit I handed her the cup with her tea and we sat finishing our drinks in peaceful silence. That quiet, however, began to grow too think after a bit. She nudged me in the ribs.

"Penny for your thoughts," she offered.

I looked up from the soft glow of the fire on the hearth that I had been looking at. The same light was playing across her face, putting it half into shadow. I smiled.

"That penny might embarrass you," I told her.

She shook her head and grinned at me. Then she lifted an eyebrow when I didn't answer. She gave my ribs another nudge.

"All right, you strike a hard bargain, but... two pennies."

Taking a deep breath, I found my courage, and I made the choice that I knew I wouldn't regret.

"I was thinking how beautiful you look in the firelight," I told her.

For a second she seemed pleased, then her lips twisted into a grimace. "Yes, low light would help the way I look."

"Emma!"

She looked up at me, surprised by my tone.

"You are...the...most beautiful...woman I have ever known." Setting down the coffee cup I had absently been holding, I lifted my hand to her face and slid it down to her chin. A little pressure and I moved her face up out of the shadows and into the golden light fully. "You are incredibly beautiful and incredibly sexy... and I have thought that for as long as I have known you."

Emma looked stunned. Her expression changed from flattered, to pleased, then sad and then through a half dozen more as she looked into my eyes. She slowly shook her head and, reaching up, touched my cheek.

"God, if you were thirty years older or I was thirty years younger I would..."

Leaning in, I kissed away the last of her words. Whatever she would have done had our ages been closer became lost in that kiss as our lips touched.

It wasn't my first kiss, but it was the first I ever gave someone who I loved and desired. Her lips tasted of chai spice. They were warm and soft against mine. I felt her hand go to the back of my head, her fingers sliding into my hair. For a moment she was pulling me closer, her lips aggressively seeking mine. Then slowly her fingers moved out of my hair and around to my chest. As I felt her pushing against my chest her lips slipped away from mine, and I opened my eyes to see her looking at my face just inches from hers.

She sighed.

"I'm sorry, Tim...I can't." She took a deep breath. "It's too soon for me, and I am far too old for you. I'm older than your mother is. You're a young man; you shouldn't be kissing a old woman like me. You need to be chasing after girls your own age." Emma smiled and her hand brushed my face. "She will be so very lucky to have someone so wonderful that he made an old woman like me feel young again. For a few seconds at least."

She went to pull away, but I caught her hand and pulled it to my chest. Just over my heart. I knew she could feel it pounding against my ribs.

"Emma, I'm not a virgin for lack of opportunity. I'm still a virgin because I wanted to lose my virginity to the woman I'm in love with." Keeping her eyes caught with mine, I pressed her hand harder into my chest. "Emma, I'm in love with you. I always have been."

I saw her catch her breath, her eyes taking in every inch of my face. Slowly she shook her head.

"Tim, I..." She stopped, swallowed, took a second deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. "I don't know what to say. There's a part of me that feels ecstatic. That wants to...needs to...believe what you're saying. It is very nice to be in your arms. To feel the comfort of a man's arms around me. A man I wouldn't mind calling my own. You're very tender-hearted and sweet. I've missed that these past few months. Missed it and needed it so very badly!"

She pulled herself away from me then and sat on the edge a small distance from me so we were not touching. She hugged her arms around herself, warding off a chill that was more than the cold. I reached for her shoulder, but I saw her shake her head.

"The rest of me. The rest of me knows better than to listen to that part of myself. I'm a fifty year old woman, Tim. And I know young men. I know how they are, even if you don't know yourself. Young men are so flooded with hormones. They make you crazy with desire. They lust for anything female." She went quiet for a second then sighed. "I'm sorry, Tim. I'm sorry if I have led you on...in any way. You'll have to forgive that I forgot what all those hormones do to a man your age. I've been flirting with you. Sitting here curled up with you, like I'm your girlfriend. We've been talking about my sex life for god's sake! I'm sorry. All I can truly say in my defense is I've been lonely since Tom passed, and it was so... so very nice to feel a man next to me again."

"You don't have to be alone. I love you. Please let me take your loneliness away." I reached for and took her hand into mine.

She looked back at me and a smile crossed her lips. Sad, but understanding.

"You may want me, Tim. Which is flattering as hell...but you don't love me. Not in that way. You may think you do, but I'm a gray haired old lady who should be baking cookies with grandchildren. Not tempting young men."

She pulled her hand away from me and looked away.

Getting up, frustrated to explain what I felt in a way she would believe, I walked over to the fire. Standing there, the heat of it warming my legs, I had to calm myself. To explain how I felt I had to be calm.

"Emma..."

"No, Tim." She shook her head. "No, I can't. Perhaps...perhaps it would be better if you called me Mrs. Emma." She looked away from my face.

So simple a statement, yet I felt like my heart had just shattered. The calm I had been searching for fled. In its place was emotion, raw and hot emotion, and memories. Memories from years and years for feeling the way I do now.

"When we first started going to the beach together every summer you wore a blue two piece. It wasn't till I was around ten that you started to wear the one piece suit. You changed because a teenager whistled at you, and then laughed. You used to wear your hair longer. It was right before the fourth of July, eight years ago, that you cut it like you have it now." I paused and took a deep breath. "I heard Dad telling Mom that he thought you looked better with it longer. She shushed him, told him that older women don't look good with long hair. I saw that you overheard her say that. You've never worn it long since then."

She was listening to me but not giving any response.

"You used to wear a thin, yellow dress in the summer. It had these tan polka-dots. You wore it every summer for years and years. I loved seeing you in it...after I noticed that two of the polka-dots would move."

She blushed scarlet, but there was a bit of a grin trying to peek though. She still didn't look up at me though. Crossing to the couch, I dropped to my knees in front of her. I took her hand in mine. She wouldn't meet my eyes.

"I thought my life had ended when I found you on the floor of your bathroom! I don't even remember calling 911. I knelt there on those bloody, wet tiles, my fingers frantically trying to find the pulse on your neck. Emma, I was a teenager, with all those raging hormones you were talking about. You were naked before my eyes, and yet other than a single glance, my eyes never left your face! I covered you with a towel to protect your modesty when I heard the sirens."

Now it was my eyes that were down cast. Her hands were holding mine now more than the other way around. I could feel it when she looked up, I knew her eyes were on me. I didn't look up as I confessed to something so very secret.

"I wanted so badly to have kissed you that day at the farmers' market. You moved, just as I found the courage to do so. If you hadn't..."

Her finger was under my chin, and I let her lift my face for her view.

"Emma, I have been in love with you for years. I have wanted you, desired you, fantasized about you." She blushed at that but didn't look away, "I don't delude myself. I know that you don't love me like that. Tom was the love of your life. I can live with that...I have lived with that for a long time. But Emma... don't tell me I don't know what I feel for you. I love you."

Twin tears rolled from the corners of her eyes to cross her cheeks.

"I love you, Emma. I am not Jordan. I'm not a young man simply after what all young men want. I am still a virgin because I chose to be. Because I have that gift to give but one in my life and I wanted the woman I love to have it. Not just any random girlfriend, but the woman I love. You."

I saw her bite her lip, and then she looked down at our joined hands. Her delicate fingers absently traced the swirls on the back of my knuckles. I took a deep breath, feeling my stomach a crawl with nerves. I almost felt sick from the purging of so much emotional anguish.

"If you say no..." I nodded, and sniffed back a tear. "That's okay. I'll stay as I am. If you say it's too soon since Tom passed... I'll wait till you're ready. This 'gift' is yours." I chuckled suddenly. "Unwrap it when you wish."

She giggled. I saw a single tear, alone now, roll down her cheek to drop to our joined hands. It rolled off hers onto mine.

"Your mom is my best, and truth told only real friend, Tim. She has been there for me through a thousand times of pain. She's listened to me bitching when I needed an ear to fill. Tim, if I was to do this she might hate me." Getting up, she left the blanket to fall at her feet. She walked past me to the fireplace, and I turned to watch her. The room had darkened as the fire died down. I could just see her silhouette back-lit by the light of the fire. "I remember that day at the market. I nearly kissed you."

She turned her back to me and looked down into the flames.

"That a man as young as you could find me attractive, I was... Damn it! You made me feel sexy!" She stamped her foot, a gesture that made me smile. "It had been so long since anyone other than Tom had made me feel that way."

I rose up off my knees and moved over to stand beside her.

"I never once, in thirty years of marriage, thought of cheating on my husband, yet there I was about to kiss the son of my best friend in the back seat of a car! Damn you!" She stamped her foot again.

I placed my hands on her shoulders, I could feel her trembling. But it was, I realized maybe from laughter.

"Yes," she said after a moment. So softly I hardly heard her. She turned to face me, standing in the circle of my arms, looking up at my face. Her eyes were wet with tears again. "I would love to have that gift from you,Tim. And no. I don't want to wait..." She flashed me that naughty grin of hers. "I want to unwrap it now."

Smiling, I leaned in to kiss her again, but her hand was on my chest stopping me. Her face suddenly because serious again.

"I ask only, that in the years to come, you don't come to think that giving it to me...was a mistake." Her voice seemed to get caught in her throat.

"Never!"

I pulled her tight up against me. I felt her body trembling, and I knew I was doing the same. She tilted her face up to mine, and I kissed her for the second time. Her lips were hard against mine, demanding attention now, and I gave it.

As we kissed I felt her start to push me back towards the couch. When I felt the cushions against the back of my knees she let go of me and pushed against my chest. Sitting down, I looked up at her. She smiled looking down at me, her hair like gold fire now. She turned and walked over to the lamp in the corner. She turned off the last light so that only the dying fire lit the room.

Walking past me, she knelt, brushing a quick kiss across my lips. She picked up the blanket and moved towards the fireplace. She spread out the blanket on the carpeted floor before the hearth.

Stepping onto it, she looked over at me. Slowly, she dropped her robe to the floor. She unbuttoned the top of her nightgown just as slowly. When she had only the waist still buttoned, she opened the front and let it drop to the floor in a puddle of flannel. She slipped her panties off with a nervous energy.

Emma stood naked in front of the fire, her body golden lit from behind. As I watched she knelt down and then lay down in front of the glow. Waiting for me.

My eyes took in her body as I pulled my shirt up off me. The soft curve of her beasts, the dark patch of hair. It was all as my memories had kept it. Time had done little to change her since. As I stepped to the edge of the blanket, I caught the edge of my sweats and stripped then and my underwear off together. Naked before her, I watched her eyes roam over me, as mine were doing to her.

Lying down beside her, I leaned over her and tasted her lips against mine. Her tongue came out to meet mine, her fingers digging into the back of my hair. I laid my hand on the soft warmth of her stomach.

Pulling back from the kiss, I smiled at her. "I know how to do this, but any advice would be a help."

Emma giggled. Reaching around to my back, she pulled me down into a long deep kiss. I felt her hands cross my shoulders and run down my sides.

Her body was soft and yielding against my chest. I slid my hand across her side, but stopped at the side of her breast not wanting to move too fast.

She must have sensed that hesitancy. She giggled, and then she took that hand and moved it till the warmth of her breast filled my palm. My fingers closed softly around a nipple.

"Umm," she moaned.

Kissing the side of her neck, I felt her fingers touching me. Her hand wrapped around my cock and gave a gentle squeeze.

Her fingers caressed the back of my neck as I was kissed the side of hers. With soft touches of my lips, I made my way down onto her breast. My lips touched her wine-dark nipple, and it stood taut up from her skin. My tongue licked softly. I sucked her into my mouth.