The Convertible – Breakdown

We were all exhausted.

After I'd locked up, I sent Cherry on her way while I walked across the street to check in with Ernie. He seemed happy to see me. "Hey, Shaun! Great news, I just got the call from the shipper. Your parts have cleared US Customs faster than expected, and they're on their way. Should be here within a few days!"

"Wow, that was fast," I replied, trying to be sincere, "good to know. Let me know when they arrive!" Truth be told, now that things were warming up with Cherry, I wasn't in much of a hurry.

On the way back to the Sugar Pine, I stopped in at Do Buy to buy a pre-paid cell phone. I needed to make a call, and I didn't want to borrow anyone's phone. As soon as I walked in, Adnan leapt to his feet. "Ah, my friend Shaun! Blessings upon you, good sir! You've brought me good fortune this day!"

"I'm not sure how I could do that, Adnan. We were working our asses off all day at the diner. It was our busiest day so far this year!"

"Ah! Well, my friend, please recall the old saying that a rising tide raises all boats! After enjoying the epicurean delights of the GearJammer, many of your young diners came by our humble store and made many purchases. This day has been a windfall, thanks in part to you increasing the business at the diner!"

"Well, that's nice to hear, Adnan, I'm really glad we helped you." I wasn't sure what to say. Holding the temporary cell phone, I asked, "What do I owe you?"

Adnan looked down at the floor, and answered, "You have done much good for everyone around you these last few days, my friend. In Dubai, to ask you to pay for such a small thing when you have done me so much good would be considered petty and insulting." He raised his head and gave me a 100-kilowatt smile. "Take it, my friend, as a small token of my appreciation and respect." We shook hands, and I headed out.

On the way back I saw a bench under a large Douglas fir tree. I sat down and dialed a number I had memorized, but thought I'd never dial again: MaryAnne Parrish.

Her phone rang a few times, then a male voice answered: My nephew Daniel.

"Daniel, this is your Uncle Shawn. Is your mother home?"

"Yeah, I'll get her. By the way, I was really sorry to hear about Aunt Amanda. She was a sweet lady, I'm sorry I missed her funeral. I asked Dad to send flowers, though, did you get them?"

I shook my head, disgusted; I could taste the bitterness backing up in my throat. "No, Daniel, but thanks for the thought. Take my advice and don't depend upon my asshole brother, OK? I know he's your Dad; you can't and shouldn't say that, but I grew up with the son of a bitch. I got every goddam right to say it." I heard MaryAnne's voice in the background.

"Daniel, who are you talking to on my phone? Give me that, please." I heard Daniel hand his Mom's phone over.

"Hello, MaryAnne. It's Shaun."

"Shaunie! How are you? Where are you? It's been weeks and we haven't heard from you, we were worried something had happened to you." I knew 'we' meant 'I', but I went along with it. Fucking Ron.

"I'm fine MaryAnne. My car broke down and I'm stuck in a podunk town in the middle of nowhere getting it fixed, but I'm fine. How are you doing?"

"Very well, thanks!. The kids are fine, and so is Ron. He just started a new job and he seems to like it. By the way, Ron wouldn't show me the email you sent him, but whatever was in it, he got the message. It's like he's been taking good husband lessons or something. I guess I should thank you."

The email I'd sent my asshole brother was short and to the point. I told him the truth; that him being my brother was the ONLY reason I didn't take MaryAnne with me when I packed up and left. I also said if I ever came back and he was still treating her like shit, I'd ignore him being my brother and take her for myself anyway.

To drive home the point, I sent him the contact information of a good divorce lawyer, because if I took MaryAnne from him he was going to need one; her lawyer would be coming at him hard under my direction.

"No thanks needed, MaryAnne. I'm glad Ron finally came to his senses and started treating you like the queen you are." Then I took a breath to calm my anxiety; this was going to be the hard part.

"MaryAnne, I need your advice. You're the only person in the world I can trust with this. It's about Amanda."

"Oh, sounds serious Shaunie. I guess I should sit down. Go ahead."

"I know that social norms say a widower needs to wait for a year..."

She cut me off, "Oh, Shaunie! You found someone already? That's wonderful! A relief, actually."

"Actually, I didn't find her, she found me. It's a long story, but I was doing fine by myself, sort of, then she came into...ah, never mind." My brain had just processed the last part of what she said, "Why do you say it's a relief?"

"Come on, Shaunie, you were so good at being Amanda's husband, but you have to admit as a widower you went off the rails. Do I need to remind you that before you married Amanda you were a hot mess relationship-wise? After we lost her, you took the express bus straight back to Messville with your pal Jack Daniels.

You know I care about you, Shaunie, so I hope you don't mind me saying it; a man like you needs a good woman to anchor you." She paused for a moment, as if gauging my reaction, "If I've offended you, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken, sweetie, I'm listening." Yeah, listening with a lump in my throat.

Reassured, she continued, "By a good woman, I'm not talking about those gorgeous-but-shallow bitches you dated before you met Amanda. I'm talking about a woman just like Amanda, one who adores you just as much as you adore her."

"I'm pretty certain that's the case, MaryAnne. The thing of it is, the woman I found is younger. Like, Daniel's age. She's no airhead, she's got a BS in Physics, but standing next to her I look like I could be her father."

"Do you really love each other, Shaunie? Please tell me it's not just a sex thing. Even at 44, you're a handsome man who'd have no problem attracting women, trust me on this. A few of Amanda's acquaintances were asking about you after you left."

"No, it's not just a sex thing. It feels right, MaryAnne. Being with her just feels... right. I actually tried to convince her why I was the wrong guy for her, but she turned my argument around and convinced me that I was. What I need to ask you, I ask not as a loving sister-in-law but as the person who knew Amanda best; what would Amanda think about me being involved with this woman? Would Amanda think I was making a mistake, MaryAnne?"

There was an even longer silence than before; then MaryAnne answered, "You know how much Amanda loved being married to you, right, Shaunie?"

"Yes," I answered quietly because I expected this part to really hurt. I wasn't wrong - it was already starting.

"Amanda's biggest regret was not being able to have your baby. It was what she wanted more than anything in the world. That's why she didn't want to talk about adoption. She was determined to have your baby."

"Yes, I remember," I answered, choking up. That was an understatement. I remembered every painful detail like it was yesterday. I remembered all the infertility specialist appointments, the medications, the IVF needles, the abdominal pain and the headaches; I also remembered the incredible sadness that came with the arrival of her period, and how I'd held her as she cried in frustration when it did.

"Shaunie, I don't think Amanda would care that you didn't wait a year to find someone. She knew how much you loved her, and how you'd be lost on your own. I know Amanda would want you to love life again, not stay that bitter man with empty Jack Daniels bottles in his sink that you'd become. I think Amanda would be overjoyed if this woman will love you as much as she did, especially if she can give you that baby she never could."

By this point, I was in tears myself, trying to chole back my sobs. "Thank you, MaryAnne," I whispered, quickly hanging up before she had a chance to pepper me with questions. My heart felt like it had been dragged behind a rusty pickup truck over 10 miles of bad road; I couldn't handle any more.

MaryAnne was right, of course. She and Amanda were only sisters by marriage, yet they knew each other so well because they were so perfectly matched in personality they could have been clones. MaryAnne just told me Amanda would approve; I believed it.

My sorrow fading, I pocketed the phone, and started walking back to the room. Then I felt wings sprout on my feet like the Greek god Mercury; I began to run. Cherry was waiting, I needed to see her, to be with her, right now!

When I got back to the room, Cherry was napping on the bed. She looked so innocent, it was all I could do not to kiss her awake; she'd been working hard these last few days and deserved her rest.

Instead, I laid on the sofa and began thinking about life after McCloud. We were living in a B&B out of necessity, but I was weary of eating carry-out food for dinner every night. Being a decent cook myself, I missed having a kitchen. Then my daydream shifted to living with Cherry.

She was a good waitress, but I had no idea if she had any actual domestic skills. I imagined the two of us cooking in the kitchen together and smiled at that. Then I included a baby sitting in a highchair to the scenario and was floored by the flood of feelings it produced in me. Four weeks ago, I couldn't see beyond the bottom of an empty whiskey bottle. Now I was seeing a wife, a child, a future.

I heard movement in the bedroom, and a sleepy-eyed Cherry came out. She sat by my feet at the end of the sofa. Her tousled bed-hair looked very alluring. "Hey, boyfriend, what're you thinking about?"

"Thinking about you, or more accurately, about us."

Her head tilted and her eyebrows went up. I had piqued her interest, for sure. "Oh, like what about us?"

I stretched a bit, taking my time before answering, "Like if we move to a place with a real kitchen, I was wondering who'd do the cooking."

She sat silent for a moment then crawled on top of me, so we were now face to face. I wrapped my arms around her, and we kissed; I could feel her body heat through my clothes. It dawned on me that kissing this woman was fast becoming one of my favorite things to do.

She moved her lips from my lips to my cheek, and whispered, "You probably don't realize this because you're totally clueless, but most guys my age would have been thinking about something crude and sexual involving tits, negligees, or blow jobs. But not my man." She shivered, "That's what makes you so hot, you stud."

Flattered, I had to chuckle but then added, "Did I mention the kitchen I imagined us being in also had a highchair in it?" Cherry stopped cold, her eyes wide as if I'd stunned her with a phaser.

"What did you just say," she asked, whispering.

I gave another little chuckle, "I said high," then kissed her, "chair," and I kissed her again, "you know what sits in a highchair, right?"

Her expression became very serious, "Shaun, please tell me you're not toying with me, that this isn't a big joke on the fat girl. I swear if you're playing with me, I'll hate you forever and never forgive you." Her eyes became very moist, and her hands tightly clutching my shirt.

I covered her hands with mine. It was time to get serious. "Cherry, I'm 44 years old; I live with enough regrets in my life already; I don't want to live my life regretting that I let you get away. Marry me."

Cherry looked at me, with an expression on her face that I would describe as either 'agog' or 'aghast', I wasn't quite sure, I'd need to check a dictionary. Tears began to form in her eyes.

I help up an index finger, "Before you answer, in full transparency I have to warn you that as an older husband, I'll be very jealous and possessive," and gently squeezed her bottom for emphasis, "if a 20-something kid at the grocery store looks at you too long while he's bagging our groceries, or if I think the coffee barista guy is flirting with you while he's taking your order, or even if some guy in the next car over smiles at you while you're sitting at a stoplight, I might just do something about it. If you agree to marry me, this is what you'll be getting. If you - "

She put her hand over my mouth, and whispered, "You crazy man, please shut UP! Yes, I'll marry you. Yes, yes yes! You can be as possessive as you want, I'd love it. I love you, body and soul. I'm yours."

"Stand up," I told her. She obeyed. "Take your clothes off, all of them. I want you naked." Cherry quickly complied. I led her over to the full-length mirror, then stood behind her. "Hands at your sides. What do you see?"

"An ugly fat girl," she replied in a low voice. WHAP, I slapped her right ass cheek just hard enough to get her attention.

"If you ever say that again about the woman I love, I'll punish you severely, do you understand? It will be a lot more than six strokes with a hairbrush, I promise you."

"Yes sir," she answered in her little-girl voice.

"Let's try again. Tell me what you see."

"I... don't know, sir, please don't punish me."

"Very well, I'll help you this time. In that mirror, you see the woman I adore from the top of her head to the ends of her cute toes; a smart, funny, and sexy woman that I can't live without, a woman I totally adore." I took her chin and turned her face towards me. "Try again. Tell me what's in that mirror."

Cherry again answered in her little-girl voice "A smart, funny, sexy woman that you adore."

"Do you believe the words you just said?"

"No." WHAP, I slapped her left ass cheek this time, again not too hard, just for emphasis. She cried out in surprise but stood still.

"You must be tired. For being such an intelligent girl you're a really slow learner today." I kissed her deeply; she began to reach up to touch me, but I stopped the kiss and corrected her, "Hands down!"

Moving around behind her again, I grasped an ass cheek in each hand. "Whose beautiful ass is this?"

"Yours."

"Who's allowed to touch it?"

"Only you."

I wrapped my arms around her; pressing my clothed body into her naked one, I reached around and massaged the rolls of her soft abdomen. "Whose wonderful belly is this?" The crotch of my jeans was getting tight now.

"Yours," she whispered.

"And who's allowed to touch it?"

"Only you," she answered.

Reaching further down, I cupped her lovely mons, "Whose vagina is this?"

"Yours, all yours," she breathlessly replied.

"Will you allow any other man to touch it?"

"Never, my love, never, I swear." Her excitement was building, judging by the moisture and heat I was feeling in my cupped hands.

Moving my arms up, I lifted her glorious breasts; my hands could barely contain them as their flesh overflowed around my spread fingers.

"Whose tits are these," I asked as I kissed the side if her neck; she shuddered in pleasure.

"All yours," she replied again, then added, "no one else can touch them. Only you."

I walked around in front of her, knelt and wrapped my arms around her, my face now buried in her belly just below her breasts, the scent of her excitement rising, filling my nostrils. I told her, "You may embrace me now." Her arms were around my head immediately. "Look in the mirror. Do you see that man kneeling before you, worshipping you?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Get used to it, my love. I'm going to worship you every day of our life together. Life is too short and I refuse to waste another day; nothing will keep me from the woman I love." I pulled my head away from her body and looked up at her beautiful face, "By the way, when I say the woman I love, you know that's you, right?" That got a giggle out of her.

I stood up, pulled her in closely and whispered in her ear, "Now do you believe that?"

"Yes." There was now no hesitation in her voice. Victory!

I tested her again, "Do you still think you're an ugly fat girl when you have a fiancé who adores you like this?"

"No. If he loves me like this, it can't be true."

"What are you?"

"I'm a beautiful woman who's adored by her man." Surprising both of us, I effortlessly picked her up in my arms -- I suspect it was the mixture of horniness, adrenaline, and possessiveness coursing through me that drove me to it, but I needed to claim her. Carrying her to the bed, I laid her gently down, then undressed. Getting my underwear off with my tentpole erection was a bit of a barrier, but somehow, I managed.

Now my lust was bubbling over; wasting no time, I climbed on top of her, kissing and nipping her breasts and neck as I positioned myself. She spread her legs for me and gasped in pleasure as I slid in.

I didn't move for a minute. Despite the great state of excitement as I was in, a flash of self-doubt entered my mind, and I whispered, "Cherry, I'll give you this one last chance to change your mind about marrying me."

Lust in her voice, she answered, "You're nuts if you think I'm ever letting you go now," and thrust her pelvis against mine. It was at this point that my rational mind went on vacation; I took my fiancée with pure feral lust. It was a frenzy of coupling, sucking, love bites, and tender kisses culminating in a shared orgasm that left my balls drained and her legs shaking.

After a few minutes of recovery, Cherry put on a robe and went down the hall to use the toilet and freshen up; when she returned, she knelt on the bed and handed me a round plastic container.

"What are these?"

"My birth control pills. If you want a highchair in our kitchen, I won't be needing them."

"Stand up." She did as I asked; I leaned forward and opened her robe. I began kissing her belly as my fingers tapping out a faux Morse code.

She giggled, "What are you doing?"

"I'm sending a message to your ovaries and uterus that there's a new guy in charge, and they'd better get busy."

++++++++++

The following morning Allen came down to unlock the diner, but Gina wasn't with him.

"Where's your wife, stud," I teased, "and how was your top management meeting?

Allen looked at me; he looked pleased but exhausted. "Gina's sleeping in, she'll be down later," he said, "I guess I had a little leftover testosterone from yesterday; for once it was me who wore her out, not the other way around!" As he opened the door, he saw Cherry smiling and clinging to me. One eyebrow went up, "Did something happen between you two?"

Cherry blurted out, "Shaun proposed last night, and I said yes! We're getting married!"

Allen rolled his eyes in mock desperation, "Oh, swell. Gina gets really worked up over engagements and weddings; when she hears about this I may as well close the diner for a day, she won't let me out of bed! Congratulations you two!" To my surprise, big gruff old Allen smiled, shook my hand and gave Cherry a hug. Then we went inside and started the day.

The off-road bike event had ended, so except for a few stragglers we were back down to our normal flow of business. Gina coming in late had little impact, Cherry easily handled all the tables.

Gina came down around 11am, went into the kitchen and found Allen cooking up a few easy orders. Walking up behind him, she wrapped her little arms around his middle, well, as far as her short arms could reach, anyway.

Allen called over to me, "Shaun, watch the grill, will you?" I nodded.

He took her into the diner's little office and pulled her onto his lap. Seeing this, I was reminded how tiny she really was. She sniffed, "I love you so much, Allen. I feel like I don't tell you that enough. Do I tell you enough?"

Allen hugged Gina closely and kissed her temple, "Sweetheart, that's just a menopause moodswing talking. We've been married 43 years. If I'm counting right, that's over 15,000 days. During that time, you've told me you love me almost every day; the only days I can remember you not telling me were the days you went back to Pittsburgh to visit your mother. I promise, I feel loved."