Replacement Therapy Ch. 03

"Oh don't get all huffy about it, Aaron. I know your intentions were honorable. Or, at least I think they were," she grinned. "Just the same, you brought my daughter out of a two year long funk after the death of Ryan. She's alive again. This old girl can't tell you how grateful I am for what you've done. I was really worried about her and the future. I'm hoping that maybe ... just maybe, she's going to be all right."

I could see the sincerity of her beliefs. In truth, I didn't feel guilty at all about my behavior toward her daughter. I had been slow and careful with my approaches to helping her. It had only been recently that Meg had stirred the pot and virtually forced me to ask Yolanda for a date. Otherwise, I might be lying here without having held her in my arms, or having been kissed by her.

Meg and I chatted a while longer. I told her about my two boys and my frustration at my inability to see them. She sympathized, but like me, didn't have any unique ideas about how to overcome the obstacles my ex-wife had put in place.

I slept a bit better that night. Not that I wasn't in some discomfort, but the combination of a pill the nurse had provided, and my peace of mind, helped me make it through the night.

Wednesday, I had a visit from Detective Lofthouse. He had received my message and came by to see what I could add to the puzzle.

"I understand you may have remembered something else about the attack," he said, pulling his notepad out of his inner suit pocket.

"Maybe. It's just a fragment, but it might mean something. I remember my attacker saying something about yoyo. I don't remember the context, but I remember the word. It seemed like a strange word at the time."

"Yeah. It would be strange, I suppose."

"The reason that clicked is because I discovered that Yolanda Michaels' late husband had that as a nickname for her. Yoyo. I was wondering if there was a connection."

Lofthouse sat back in the chair, thinking about my comment. "Well, it isn't a common word. It might be a coincidence ... but then ... I don't believe in coincidences. Yoyo, eh? Let me think on it a bit."

I saw Yolanda and the children every day. I looked forward to their visit as the highlight of each dreary day. The weather had been wonderful as it almost always was in April. It would be hot in summer, but right now it was perfect, and I was missing it.

It was two weeks and five days in total before they let me out. I was to take it very easy, with nothing more strenuous than a short walk, similar to the tentative ones I had been taking around the hospital ward.

Under no circumstances was I to return to work for at least two more weeks. The ugly bruising of my chest remained, but it had stopped changing color. Now it was a dark, blotchy mess across my ribcage and around my back. My head was finally clear, and I was free of headaches. I was on the road to recovery.

Meg picked me up at the hospital and drove me to her house. It was a beautiful, classic, older home with a wonderful covered veranda running all the way across the front and partway down each side of the two-story structure. There was a wicker rocker on the porch by the front door that I would try and commandeer during my stay. The house looked far too large for just one person, but it also looked like the perfect place for me to rehab.

Meg was a wonderful cook, and I think my being there prompted her to pull out all the stops and impress me. If I had lost some weight in hospital, I was quickly going to gain it all back staying here. There weren't any hills in her neighborhood, so my walks would be on level city sidewalks. I didn't get very far at first, but within a few days, I was going around the block on my own. That felt like a major achievement at first. The things we take for granted, I thought.

I was pretty sure I'd figured Meg out by now. She was convinced I was future son-in-law material, and a suitable father for the children. She was dedicated to propelling the process along. My mind was uncertain on the matter. Maybe it was too early ... too soon. Yolanda and I hardly knew each other. Our only personal contact had been a dinner-dance date and the one-a-day vitamin of her kiss. Not much of a foundation.

I learned that Meg's house had been in her parents' family for almost one hundred years, and had been designated a heritage site. It was one of the reasons that she still lived there alone. She knew it was too large for her, and it was becoming a chore to keep up. We talked a lot about what the options were. She could sell it, but that would be heartbreaking in a way. It was her only link with her past. On the other hand, only a certain type of buyer would want to purchase a "designated" home and its restrictions.

There are things that women know that men can almost never learn. Some times it's what we think of as women's intuition, and other times it's just plain old common sense. Meg apparently had "borrowed" my keys from the hospital security office and cleaned out my refrigerator. I would never have thought of that, but she did. She suggested if it hadn't been done, I'd be buying a new refrigerator when I tried to move back in. She went about her business like it was no big deal.

She also brought my car over to her house. It was parked in the unused half of her garage. To tell the truth, I wasn't in any hurry to move back to my apartment. I knew I was going to have to, but it was depressing to think that I would be on my own again after having both Meg and the Michaels family around me regularly.

"Aaron ... I want to talk to you about something," Meg said the Friday before I was scheduled to return to work.

I thought this might be something relating to Yolanda, but I was wrong.

"We've talked about this house in past couple of weeks. You know how much I love it, but you also know it's becoming a burden. I get the feeling that you like this place just as much as I do. What if you moved in here permanently?"

I wasn't ready for that. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. She was right, of course. I loved that old house. I also knew it was a struggle for Meg to keep it clean and in good condition. It was typical of most old houses. They required a good deal more maintenance than new houses did. I was already performing little tasks that weren't too strenuous.

"Getting up and down these stairs several times a day is getting to be a chore. I did a little investigating down at the county office, and I have an idea that might work for both of us."

She had my undivided attention.

"Come with me," she ordered as she walked through the kitchen, down the hall and into what at one time had been the "wood room."

"I think we could expand this room into a bedroom with an ensuite. It would have an exit to the hallway and the kitchen, and an outdoor exit onto the end of the veranda. Naturally, I'd have to get an architect to design it so the county would approve it for staying within the heritage designation, but I'm told that's possible."

"Meg ... you've got four bedrooms upstairs. What the heck are you going to do with a five bedroom house with three bathrooms?"

She gave me the damndest look. "Use your imagination, boy." End of conversation.

We walked back into the kitchen, my thoughts scuttling around in my head.

"It would be expensive, Meg. These kinds of projects always are," I warned

"Son, I can raise a half-million dollars on this house a quick as snapping my fingers. It's mine, free and clear. Most estimates say it could sell for something over a million in a good market. Even here in Yuba City. I've got almost two acres of property, and that's rare this close in. It'd be a good investment for me ... or my family."

There were times when Meg could be sneaky, but this wasn't one of them. This was as transparent as they come.

"I'm afraid that million dollar homes are a little out of my budget, as much as I love this place," I said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I know that. I've seen the apartment you live in. You can do better than that. If you expect to get married and have your boys with you some time, you're going to need something more suitable. This would be the ideal place. It comes with a built-in housekeeper," she grinned. "All you would be doing is buying a piece of this," she said, waving her arms around the stately old house.

"Meg, you can't sell a part of a house."

"I sure as hell can. It'll be my name on the deed, but you'll have paper that says you get a share of anything coming from a sale. Of course, if you were to marry Yolanda, you'd get it all, sooner or later," she smirked.

I was shaking my head. She had it all worked out. I had to admit, living in this house would be great. I was handy enough that I could keep up with the maintenance, and with all those tools that Yolanda had in her basement, I could have a fully equipped workshop in the outbuilding behind the garage. "Meg, I think we're getting ahead of ourselves. What about a compromise? I'll pay you room and board until Yolanda and I decide if we have a future together. If we do, then we can work out something equitable between us. If not, then I'll be on my way, no hard feelings and no strings attached."

She gave me a long, hard look. "All right. Five hundred a month and all you can eat."

"That's ridiculous, Meg. It should be twice that much." She was still manipulating the situation to make it irresistible. She shouldn't have bothered. I was already sold on the idea.

"It's my house and I decide how much is proper. Five hundred and that's my final offer!" she harrumphed.

I couldn't help laughing. It was reverse bargaining. How come I could never get this to happen when I went to buy a car?

"Okay, Meg. You win ... I surrender. When can I move in?"

"This afternoon if you want. It's not like I've got any other tenants to evict," she chortled.

"I'm going to have to get some help to move. I'm not supposed to lift anything right now."

"I know that," she said with disgust. "There's a pair of healthy young lads a couple of doors down that are always looking for odd jobs. They have a truck, too. I'll give them a call."

The two boys were happy to take the job on Saturday. That would give me enough time to have my small items and perishables packed. The fridge, stove, washer, and dryer stayed with the condo. I called a real estate agent, and had the property appraised and listed. I was amazed at how much it had appreciated in the two-plus years I had owned it. Any sale would bring me something close to another hundred thousand dollars clear! My investment in rehabilitating it was well worth it.

Where were Yolanda and the children while all this was going on, you ask? Well, they were visiting us at Meg's house almost every afternoon or evening, often staying for supper with us. It was amazing how easily we fit together, and when I think back on it, I wonder if Yolanda didn't have something to do with Meg inviting me to stay at the house. The weekend I moved in, Yolanda came with me to the apartment to make sure I didn't miss anything, or so she said.

I wasn't going to miss the apartment-condo. It was a solitary place, with no fond memories to keep me there. I think that was a big factor in my taking Meg up on her offer. First, I liked the woman. She was lively and interesting. We made good companions while I was getting healthy again. Secondly, it was a lovely home. It looked and felt like a family home. I found myself imagining what it would be like if Yolanda and the children were there as well.

I had chosen a bedroom at the far south end of the upstairs at the front of the house, overlooking the driveway and front yard. There was a huge tree shielding me from the sun in the afternoon, but otherwise, it was open to a view in the east. Meg's bedroom was at the opposite end of the house, facing north. Luckily, the old house had been updated with a heat pump to look after the hot summer weather.

The three bedrooms were empty of furniture. Meg said that what was there was dated and she had given it away. I reminded her that I had three bedroom sets, two in storage. The two had been the boys' and were relatively new and in good condition. She agreed to let me place them in the empty rooms.

I took the boys' beds out of storage, but ended up with my sofa, chairs and kitchen set replacing them. I was going to have to deal with all the surplus sooner or later. Perhaps when things were a little more settled in my life.

The two bathrooms were on the upper floor, one at each end of the hall. That would work quite nicely for both of us. I wondered why there hadn't been a bathroom on the main floor, but Meg couldn't remember. Yolanda said I needed the exercise. The kids didn't know what in the world we were talking about.

Deanna now insisted I call her DeDe, so I agreed without a fuss. She would sit with me on the sofa after supper and tell me about her friends and what she did in school that day. More than once she said she wished she could live in Meg's house with us all together. I saw Yolanda blush at the suggestion, but she said nothing. After all, it was just a kid's wish.

Kirk would spend hours building various things with his Lego pieces. He would present them to me, usually describing them as a space ship of one kind or another. After all, he was Captain Kirk, and it was his job to keep the place free of Klingons.

Yolanda and I always found time to talk. I felt I was getting much closer to her, and I also sensed that she had dropped her defenses from our earlier encounters. We had decided that we would go out for dinner and dancing to celebrate my first week back at work. Saturday night was chosen and of course, Meg agreed to look after the children. They would sleep over at Grandma's house. The two new beds gave them each their own room, and they were excited by that.

My first week back at work felt odd. I had been away for so long that I had forgotten how dependent upon routine I had been. Now, it was like learning the job all over again. It was a small challenge, just an adjustment really, but by the end of the week, I was exhausted. That was a surprise, but I suppose the mental pressure was as great as the physical.

I called Detective Lofthouse to see if there were any developments on my case, and to let him know where I was living. His only comment was "nice district, you're moving up in the world." He said he was working on some leads, but was unwilling to say any more at that time.

Saturday night was busy at the Carousel. They had a different band and it featured a woman singer who patterned her style after Julie London. She was terrific, and Yolanda and I spent most of the night listening to her between dances. I tired a bit more easily than I was used to, but I was getting better. What kept me alert was Yolanda plastering herself onto me when we moved around the dance floor and sitting closely beside me at the table. We were touching often. This was a huge change in her behavior.

"I know a place we can go and be alone," she said, whispering in my ear.

"Are you sure? I might be a wolf in sheep's clothing."

"I've got you in a weakened condition. A quick poke in the ribs would render you harmless." She was grinning as she made this threat.

"Okay then. Where do you want to go?"

"Along the Feather River. There's a place I used to go when I was a teenager."

"Oh really. A make-out place I'll bet."

"Don't you want to make out with me?" she asked with feigned disappointment.

I looked her straight in the eye. "More than anything." I wasn't kidding.

It was ten minutes north of the Carousel, but it was a nice, secluded spot along the banks of the river.

"Did you come here often?"

"None of your business," she said coyly. "But ... I haven't been here in fifteen years ... at least."

"Well, that makes it special then. I'm flattered that you would choose me to reveal your secret past." I felt the last of the barriers had fallen and I could be more like myself without worrying about how Yolanda would react.

She turned toward me, her expression serious. "Don't make fun of it, Aaron. It took me all night to get up the courage to ask you to bring me here."

"Sorry. I wasn't making fun of you. I respect you too much to do that."

"I know. But ... you're treating me like I'm the fragile one ... not you."

"True. I have been careful. Maybe too cautious. You have me wondering what I should do ... and just as worried about what I shouldn't do."

"What you should do is kiss me," she said, slipping over to my side. I turned carefully toward her and she clasped my face in her hands and we kissed. A long, soft, deep, kiss.

We didn't say anything when the kiss ended. We were just looking at each other. For my part, I was wondering where this was heading. I didn't have a clue what Yolanda was thinking. I pulled her to me and we kissed again.

"I was a bit wild when I was a teenager. I lost my virginity not far from here," she confessed.

"Was that to your husband?"

"No ... he came much later," she blushed. "I was testing out several prospective boyfriends. I had some growing up to do."

"Well, from what I can see, you've turned into quite the woman, not to mention mother."

"You keep flattering me and I don't deserve it. When Ryan died, I had to prove to myself that I could make it on my own. I know my mother wanted to help, but I had something to prove. Then you came along and changed everything."

"I did?"

"Of course you did. You decided you were going to be my white knight. I didn't ask for one, and I didn't think I wanted one, but that didn't stop you. You just kept charging at me. You even used my children against me, you sneak." Even in the dark I could tell she wasn't really angry with me. I was getting the past six weeks' synopsis of our tentative relationship.

"Yes ... you fought like a tiger," I kidded, then leaned over and kissed her again. Somehow, the lean didn't invoke as much pain and discomfort as it had recently.

"So ... where do we go from here?"

"Well, if you were in better shape physically, I'd get you to take me back to my house and I'd screw you into submission," she said. "I haven't been with anyone for over three years, and when I'm around you, I get horny as hell."

"Maybe, if you took it easy at first, we could try," I suggested.

"Oh no! I've waited this long and I'm not settling for a half-a-loaf. I want you, Aaron. I have for a while now. It just took me some time to admit it to myself. But I want all of you!"

"Damn, Yolanda, it's going to be hell waiting to get better, but you've sure given me an incentive."

We spent the next hour kissing and generally acting like hormonal teenagers. I was excited at the prospect of making love to Yolanda, but even more aroused that she was just as anxious to be with me.

To be continued...

Editing by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks for their thoroughness and helpful suggestions. Any errors are mine.