Mary and Alvin Ch. 02

Rule Fifty

Alvin woke to the smell of coffee. For a second he thought he'd had a wonderful dream, then realized it had been real. Mary was not beside him. He sat up and pulled on his shorts and t-shirt. He looked out the window and saw the first rays of the sun illuminating the harbor. He had never seen the view from this angle, although he had watched dawn break on the water many times over the years. Since before she was born, he thought, with a pang of guilt. The difference in their ages shouldn't matter, but he feared that it did.

Those thoughts faded when he stepped out of the bedroom and saw Mary standing at the stove, wearing a pair of plaid sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. Her hair was a tangled mess, but he still thought she was beautiful.

She looked at him and smiled.

"Good morning," she said, "I was just about to cook some bacon."

Alvin crossed to her and she leaned back into his arms. He hugged her around the waist and kissed the side of her face as she dropped the slices of bacon into the hot pan.

"I need to get down to the yard, I should have been there already."

"Uh uh," she said, shaking her head, "You are not running out on me without breakfast."

"I'm not running anywhere, believe you me." He kissed the back of her neck.

"Go wash up and get dressed," she said, pushing him away, "Scrambled eggs okay?"

"That'll be fine." He kissed her neck again, then went to get ready for work. When he was washed and dressed, they sat down together at the little dinette table and ate their breakfast. After a few moments of silence, Mary reached across the table and touched Alvin's hand.

"I had a wonderful time, yesterday," she told him. "All of yesterday."

He grinned and took hold of her hand. "So did I. And not for the last time, I hope."

She shook her head. "No, I don't think it will be for the last time." She looked at his clothes. "Are you going to stop home and change?"

Alvin lifted the front of his shirt to his face and sniffed. "I think I'll be all right."

Mary chuckled. He was so unlike her ex-husband, or any man she'd known before. She leaned forward and sniffed. "Not too bad. Maybe you can jump in the ocean some time during the day and take a bath."

Alvin laughed. "Mary, you are not the first woman to tell me to go jump in the ocean, but you are the first one to make it sound like a kindly suggestion."

"Where do you live anyway?" she asked him.

"Out the Puddledock Road."

"Puddleduck? Why is it Puddleduck Road and not Duck Puddle Road?"

"Not "duck", "dock." Puddle Dock. If you didn't have that accent, you'd understand."

"Well, I have no idea where that is."

"I can tell you," he said, drinking the last of his coffee, "it's in bike riding distance."

He stood to leave and she followed him to the door. He turned and took her in his arms. "I'll not have it said I didn't say thank you Mary, for breakfast, for sailing with me, for everything."

They kissed, and he did not want to leave, and she did not want him too, but he opened the door and clumped down the stairs. When he got to the bottom, he turned and waved. Mary waved back, and raised her hand to her lips to blow him a kiss, but he was already out the door.

She sat back down at the table and finished her coffee. She reached for a note pad. She had one close at hand, she always did. She found a pen and began making a list of chores for the day. There was still so much unpacking and arranging to do. Just shelving her many boxes of books would take hours. There were her winter clothes to put away, as well as a good portion of her kitchen utensils. At some point, she needed to get to the grocery store and she wanted to go to a nursery to buy some house plants.

She cleared the table and put the breakfast dishes in the sink. As she began working on her new household, she couldn't help thinking about how different it was from where she had begun or where she had ever expected to be.

Mary thought of herself as a conventional person. She did not think there was anything about her that was extraordinary or unusual. Even her name seemed so ordinary. When she was young, she had dreamed of being a dancer, and for several years, her mother had hauled her from one practice or recital to another. But in her early teens, a growth spurt ended that dream, and no other had risen to replace it.

High school was easy for her, at least at the outset. She got good grades, had a wide circle of friends, and was involved in many activities.

A handsome boy named Charlie Mendoza asked her to go with him to the Freshman Dance, her very first date. It was a lovely evening, and he kissed her twice, once on the dance floor and again at her door. Her head filled with fantasies about Charlie, about becoming his girlfriend, about a big traditional wedding. She filled the back page of her math notebook with variations on her imagined future name; Mary Mendoza, Mrs.Charles Mendoza, Charlie and Mary Mendoza. But Charlie didn't ask her out again.

The rejection hurt for a while, but there were soon other boys asking for dates, and Mary moved on. It wasn't long before someone else caught her eye. His name was Jason Bell, and he was in two of her classes. It took her a while, but she eventually got up the nerve to speak with him in the hall between classes.The next day, he walked her home. Then he began to walk her home very day.

But just a few weeks later, her whole world changed. She remembered vividly the day that she came home from school to find her parents and two of her three older brothers waiting for her in the living room. Stephen, the eldest, was away at college.

"Sit down, Mary," her mother told her, "Your father needs to talk to all of you."

Her stomach turned over. She knew something was terribly wrong. Her father sat, hunched over, in his favorite chair, squeezing his hands tightly together. He cleared his throat, then looked up at his children.

"Kids, I need to tell you." He paused, struggling to go on. "We didn't want to scare you, so we haven't said anything. But we have been waiting on some test results from the doctor, and we got them today."

Mary heard her mother sob, and crossed the room to sit next to her. They took each others hands as her father continued.

"The news is not good. I have a very advanced case of pancreatic cancer."

For a minute, no one said a word. Then both the brothers, Robbie and Dan, began peppering him with questions. He held up his hands and quieted them. Mary sat in silence, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"One thing at a time," her father said, "first of all, I will be going in for surgery next week. There is a reasonable chance that they can get it all out."

Mary did not think a "reasonable" chance sounded optimistic. She wanted to hear him say there was an excellent chance, even just a good chance. The room was quiet, but finally, she spoke.

"What if they don't?" she asked, in a voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, then explained to her that they could try chemotherapy if the operation wasn't entirely successful. He put on a smile that did not convince her and said, "But it's going to be alright, sweetie, don't worry."

She worried. She could not think of anything else. When Jason called, she made excuses not to talk to him. In the rare moments when a book or a television show took her mind off her father's illness, she would feel guilty when the reality of the situation returned to her thoughts.

The surgery was not a success. The cancer had spread. Within weeks, her father had wasted down to a shadow of his former self. Mary sank into a gloomy mood. Her mother continued to put on a face of optimistic good cheer, but Mary knew they were just waiting for the inevitable.

The end came less than two months after that family meeting. The family gathered around his bedside, and Mary sat, her hand on his shoulder as he drew his last breaths. But her eyes were on the floor. She could not look at her father as he passed away. She was afraid that if she did, she would never stop crying.

Mary felt like she was walking in a fog in the days that followed. It lifted only a little bit after the funeral, but the slightest reminder of her father would plunge her back into gloom. One day she noticed that his slippers were still in the bathroom, and she broke down in tears. Only when her mother had taken away the slippers could she regain her composure.

Gradually, her mood lightened, but she remained withdrawn at school and among her friends. As the holiday season approached, she struggled not to slip back into despair. When one of her friends invited her to a New Year's Eve party, she agreed, with some reluctance, to attend.

When she entered the decorated banquet room, she thought she had made a mistake. Nearly all the guests had come as couples. A DJ was playing records, and the dance floor was crowded. Mary sat by herself at a table in the back of the room and watched for a while, wondering how soon she could gracefully slip back out.

She noticed a boy sitting alone a few tables away. He wore big black glasses and his hair stuck up in a cowlick, but he was sort of cute, in a nerdy way. After a minute's hesitation, she went over and sat down next to him.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked.

He look at her with a startled expression. He shook his head and stammered what sounded like a no.

She introduced herself, and he told her his name was Wyatt Andrews. She managed to coax out of him that he attended a school near hers, and that they were in the same graduating class. She asked him if he would like to dance. He shook his head.

"Oh, come on," she implored him, "we can pretend to be a couple."

He shrugged and said, "I'm not a good dancer,"

Mary laughed and gestured towards the dance floor. "Do you think most of them are?"

"I suppose not. Look at that guy," he pointed out one particularly awkward dancer.

"Yeah, but he's having a good time. Come on." Mary stood up and held out her hand. He took it and stood. She felt a flash of disappointment when she saw that Wyatt was a couple of inches shorter than she was, but she led him to the floor. He really wasn't a bad dancer, but he looked so uncomfortable that after a few minutes, she took pity on him and suggested that they sit back down.

They got sodas and snacks and sat at a table as far from the dance floor as they could get. It was quiet enough there for them to talk. When Mary questioned him about his interests, he opened up about his love of photography, and his hopes of becoming a professional photographer some day. As he spoke, he became animated, his face lighting up with enthusiasm. Mary realized that she was no longer talking with him as a way to get through an awkward evening, but was actually interested in him.

The lights dimmed and the DJ began counting down to the new year. As the clock neared midnight, Mary and Wyatt looked at each other nervously. When the crowd erupted in cheers, they hesitated, then exchanged a quick kiss.

The party began to break up once midnight had come and gone, but before they went their separate ways, Wyatt managed to get up the nerve to ask Mary for her phone number. She gave it to him without hesitation, and on her way out the door, gave him another kiss as well.

And then she waited. It took Wyatt a full week to get up his nerve to call her and ask her to go to the movies with him. She forgave his procrastination and said yes.

They saw a movie, then ate tacos at a little Mexican restaurant near the theater. When Wyatt drove her home, they kissed at her door, and she agreed to go out again the following week. Saturday night movie dates soon became routine. Before long, the were talking on the phone or chatting online every day. Mary wasn't sure when she began thinking of Wyatt as her boyfriend, but he had easily slipped into the role. He was kind and solicitous of her. He remained physically reserved, though, and it was up to her to initiate their make out sessions, which did not progress beyond kissing and petting. When he told her that he had been accepted to the University of Southern California, she applied to go there as well, without a second thought.

For Mary, college seemed a great adventure. She had an easy time with her classes, and enjoyed the many opportunities for socializing. She quickly found a group of friends, becoming particularly close to her room mate Allison, a pre-med major from Colorado. She had not decided on her own direction, but began thinking in terms of some sort of business career.

Wyatt had a harder time adjusting. He remained socially awkward, and had trouble coping with the rigors of college life. He excelled in his art classes, but struggled in the others.

Mary grew frustrated by the state of their relationship. She was not sure she loved him, but she felt safe with him and comfortable in his presence. They shared the same taste in music and films and she always enjoyed doing things with him, but sometimes she thought he felt more like a brother than a boyfriend. She debated whether she should end things with him, or try to revitalize the relationship. After much thought, she decided that, given the time and emotion she had already invested, she ought to at least try to make things work, and she thought she knew how to do it. On a chilly day, in a light rain, she and Allison walked to the campus medical clinic and they both got birth control pills. Mary did not think Allison had any pressing need for them at the time, and wondered if she had come along merely to be supportive. In any case, she was grateful for her presence.

The notion that she was going to seduce Wyatt was exciting to contemplate, and she gave a lot of thought to considering the best place and time. As Christmas recess approached, she began to feel a greater urgency. Most students would be leaving, beginning their journeys home as soon as classes ended on the last day of the term, but she and Wyatt had only a short distance to travel and had arranged for a ride the next day. The dorms would be mostly empty. They would have a good chance to be alone for the night.

Her last class ended and she rushed back to her room. She showered and got ready to meet Wyatt at the dining hall. It occurred to her that she didn't own any lingerie or even any underwear that was particularly sexy. But she thought that once Wyatt understood what she had in mind, it wouldn't matter to him if she was wearing a potato sack.

Wyatt was waiting for her outside the dining hall door. He welcomed her with a kiss and they went inside and filled their trays. The hall was nearly empty and they sat alone and began to eat their meal. Mary had planned to wait until they were in Wyatt's room, to let the mood become romantic, and then to tell him, perhaps in a sexy whisper, that she was ready to go all the way. But as she ate and they made small talk, she became increasingly nervous and began to fear that she would lose her nerve.

"Something I need to tell you," she blurted out.

Wyatt looked up from his plate.

"A couple of weeks ago, I went to the clinic."

"Are you okay?" he asked, with a mouth full of food.

"I'm fine. I got birth control pills."

Wyatt nearly choked on his food. "So, uh, do you, I mean, should we..."

She nodded her head and reached across the table to take his hand. "We've been going together for two years, Wyatt, I think it's time."

Suddenly, Wyatt was no longer interested in his supper. "You mean, now is the time? Tonight?"

"Yes, Wyatt, that's what I mean." She paused then added, "If you want to."

He wanted to. They bussed their trays, then walked quickly, hand in hand, to Wyatt's dormitory. When they got there, however, neither of them had a very good idea how to proceed.

"Am I supposed to put a sock on the doorknob or something, like a do not disturb signal?" Wyatt asked.

"Who do you think might disturb us, isn't just about everybody gone?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Wyatt kicked his shoes off and reclined on his bed, leaning his back against the wall. Mary sat next to him and took his hand. She placed it on her breast, leaned forward and kissed him. He put his arm around her and guided her down on to the mattress. He lay beside her, and for several minutes, they kissed and explored each other's bodies with their hands.

Each seemed to be waiting for the other to move things along, so Mary broke the stalemate by sitting up and pulling her sweater over her head. She unclasped her bra and let it fall away. Wyatt reached up and cupped her breasts in his hands. She placed her hands over his and held them there. She looked down at him tenderly and felt assured that she was making the right decision.

She leaned forward, kissed him, and began to unbutton his shirt. At the same time, he unsnapped the waist of her jeans and struggled to push them over her hips.

"Slow down, honey," she admonished him. She sensed that he was getting too agitated, too soon. She stepped from the bed and slipped off her jeans. Wyatt pulled his own pants off and flung them to the floor.

She saw his erection bulging in his white jockey shorts. It looked bigger than she had expected. She laid back down beside him, and put her hand on the bulge. He inhaled sharply. She rubbed it a few times, then slipped her hand inside his waistband and grasped him. She had given him hand jobs before, but they had been hurried affairs. Now, she was careful not to further arouse him too quickly.

His hand found it's way inside her panties. He was too rough and she had to caution him to touch her more gently, to move his fingers more slowly. Soon, he was caressing her in a much more pleasurable manner, and she felt her own passion begin to rise.

Wyatt was shaking with nerves as he raised himself up on one elbow. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Mary nodded and wiggled out of her panties.

"So, should we do it regular," he asked, "like missionary style, I guess?"

"Okay," she replied in a barely audible whisper. Wyatt knelt between her thighs. She spread her legs and he lowered himself down on top of her. They kissed and then he rested his chin on her shoulder. She felt the head of his penis poking at her, trying to find entry, and reached beneath his body and took it in her hand.

"Be gentle, honey," she said as she guided it to her vagina. He slowly pressed forward and she felt it enter her. She held her breath, expecting a wave of a pain, but all that came was a quick sharp pinch and then she felt the new sensation of him filling her.

"That's it, I'm in," Wyatt muttered. She was not sure if it was a statement or a question. "Yes, baby, you're inside me," she responded.

He pulled back, too far, and popped out. Mary helped him find his way back in. He was moving in short, jerking motions, obviously afraid of coming out again. After a minute or so, he became more confident and began to move in longer, smoother strokes. Once he did, Mary began to experience the pleasure she had dreamed of feeling. Her nervous inhibitions melted away and she began to move her hips to meet his motions, and to voice her passion in whimpers of pleasure.

Wyatt was breathing heavily and began pumping his hips more urgently. Mary wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight. She thought she felt him throbbing inside her, and then a tickly feeling deep inside her as he cried out, then went limp on top of her.

She had trouble catching her own breath, in part because of his weight pressing down on her. She pushed him off, and he rolled over beside her. She felt an instant of regret when his cock slipped out of her.

"Did you, you know, orgasm?" Wyatt asked.

"Maybe, I'm not sure."

"Sorry,"

She kissed his cheek. "It's okay. We can try again in a little while."

They did try again a few hours later, and once more in the morning, and each time was better than the last.