Part 13 Preparations & Promises - Revised

I reluctantly came out of the shower 15 minutes later. The hot water had done more than just wash away a month's worth of dirt and grime off my body, it relaxed muscles and tension from the day I left my house for the last time with my pack on my back and my sword in my scabbard. I managed to wash myself of course from time to time, using a wet rag from bottled water found in trucks along the highway as a type of sponge bath, or braving cold streams, ponds and rivers, but not the completely relaxing effect of a real shower and hot water loosening tired aching muscles and gently washing away old scabs and scrapes clean. I made it a point to lightly spray down the tub by maneuvering the shower head best as I could so to not leave too big of a mess. Frank would probably appreciate it that his house-guests didn't leave his home dirtier than when they arrived.

I stepped out of the tub and towel dried myself throughly before getting dressed in the clothes I brought in. I quickly noticed that the clothes I stripped out of were missing from the floor where I left them. Presumably Maggie came in and collected those I stripped out of and they were probably in the washing machine. I pondered a second if I had emptied my pockets and saw the items that I had in there were on the bathroom counter. At first I felt a little miffed at the intrusion of my private effects but chided myself, remembering who I was with. I shook my head and put it out of my mind. What got me thinking next was how quietly she had came and went without my hearing her over the shower. I don't miss much and learned how to “listen” in order to survive.
As I stood in front of the sink and looked in the mirror I saw my weeks old beard and made an impulsive decision to shave it off. I should have done it before showering but the hot water beckoned to me louder than the itch on my face. I rummaged around in one of the few drawers and found a disposable razor and took care of business. By the time I was done I felt much better, cleaner, lighter than I had in a long time. I nodded to my reflection in the mirror, staying with this woman and her son was a good idea after all.

I got myself together and stepped out of the bathroom and turned down the hall to my room. There on the bed I saw Maggie sitting quietly looking at the pictures on the wall above the dresser. I paused when I saw her. She looked up at me and gave a quiet type of smile and stood. “You shouldn't have gotten dressed” she said in a voice just as quiet. Reflex caused me to look behind me before she spoke again, “James and Dad went to the barn. It's on the far end of the property. They'll be gone for a little while.” Her voice was soft, demure, completely removed from the confident hardened edge that I noted and became accustomed to when we first met. The towel was gone from her hair and it was brushed and looked inviting enough to want me to sink my fingers into it. I noted that her shirt was unbuttoned down to just below her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra either, the curve of her breasts that was visible in the opening of her shirt was inviting. I swallowed, realizing suddenly how long it had been since I last been with a woman. Since before the outbreak at least.

She stood up and held out her hand, “I have a promise to keep, and Dad always taught me to take advantage of every opportunity that life has to offer.” I reached out and took her hand and drew her close to me. She seemed so submissive, compliant and willing. I had to fight to keep from shaking my head in wonder. I saw that she put on a light touch of make up but the blush in her cheeks were natural as I put my arms around her. She kept her head down in a coy gesture that I found I liked a lot. I lifted her chin with a finger and looked into those blue eyes and felt myself falling. “I'm glad I bumped into you yesterday, probably the best thing that's happened to me in years.” I spoke softly to her. My hand caressed her face and she closed her eyes and sighed softly in a way that roused me. She moved her face into my hand wanting more. I couldn't remember the last time I was being this tender with someone, nor could I recall a woman of her caliber being so compliant. I pulled her closer, feeling her body against mine and bent down to kiss her. Our noses were touching but our lips were still apart.

She put her hands flat on my chest and for a second I thought she would push me away, but she kept them still her touch firm, and I felt her tremble slightly. She began unbuttoning my shirt. My hands went to her hair and felt the softness. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and my mind was spinning. What was this? My hands roamed across her back over her own shirt until they reached her waist. I pulled her closer to me and she pushed her hips until we met then relaxed before pushing again. Finally I pushed my mouth to hers and kissed her lightly. When our lips parted she gave a soft sigh. I brought one hand back up to her hair and held the back of her head as I kissed her again, more firmly this time. She kissed back with an urgency that I matched. I suddenly wanted her fiercely as our kiss continued. Soon she had my shirt opened and she pulled it out of the waist band of my pants. Her hands going over my bare chest to my shoulders and sliding the shirt off to let it fall to the floor. My hand at her waist began pulling up her own shirt until it was free as well. We broke our kiss to catch a breath before putting our lips together again, this time more harder. My hand at her head crept around and held her face. My other hand undid the rest of the buttons on her shirt then rested on her side, touching her skin, finding it smooth, soft but firmed with muscle toned by her years of training and combat activity.

Our kiss broke again and I took the moment to look down at her body. I could see scars here and there and one in particular that was evident of the bomb blast that ended her career and brought her home from the war. I looked into her eyes and I saw she was watching me look at her. Those blue eyes caused me to bend forward and kiss her again as I cupped a breast in my hand. Together we melted into one being.

Later, we sat on opposite sides of the bed and silently got dressed. She finished before I did, no doubt a habit that was a product of military training, even though we weren't in a rush. She sat there as I finished lacing up my boots. When I was done I leaned back on the messed covers and reached out to lightly scratch her back. “Wish we had more time” I said. She nodded but didn't reply back. For the first time I felt a bit unsure. Part of me hoped that she wasn't feeling that it was a mistake. Eventually she turned and smiled but her eyes were wet with repressed tears. Concerned I got up and moved around the bed and sat down next to her and put my hand on hers. “Umm, Maggie?” I tried to begin but she shook her head and squeezed my hand. “It's not you and it's not what we've done,” she leaned over and kissed my cheek then rested her head on my shoulder. “It's just I haven't had that kind of release in a very long time so I'm trying to get used to it again. I've been staying strong for so long since he died. Staying strong for James, for Dad when he lost Mom and staying strong for me.” I nodded and recalled a quote I read a few years ago.

“When you cry, it doesn't mean you're weak, it means that you've been strong for longer than you expected to be.” This caused her to burst into tears and bury her face in my shoulder and neck. I wrapped my arms around her, it was awkward but she dove into it, trying to bury herself into me. I let her sob it all out for as long as I could stand it. Normally I would have let her sob and cry and blow snot on to my shirt for as long as she would've needed it but I was mindful of James and her Father. I didn't want anything complicated to come up until I was sure it would be okay with all parties concerned. I patted her shoulder and quietly spoke. “Hey, hey now, Frank and James ought to be back anytime now. You can't let them see you crying...” she sobbed again but I could feel that it was tapering off or at least she was cutting it off in spite of her desire to let it all out. “Besides, James and your dad I think would rather kill me and face summary execution than to see us like this.” She let out a half sob, half laugh at my lame joke. She nodded in agreement. “Yes he would” she said and sniffed hard and broke away from me standing up. She took a step away from the bed and leaned against the wall by the window.
“Dad wouldn't, he kinda knows or he'll have guessed it when I requested to stay behind and get the weapons from the basement.” She caught the quick look of panic in my eyes and rested her hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “Don't worry, Dad knows I'm an adult and he knows how long I've been alone. He may call me his “little girl” but he's more understanding than most fathers would be.” I nodded and muttered to myself, “lucky me.” Then looked up at her and it was as if I was seeing her again for the first time. She was beautiful. “Lucky me” I repeated.

I stood up, and took her into my arms again and held her close and she wrapped hers around my waist and squeezed me tightly before letting go. She wiped her eyes and nose with her sleeve and then started making my bed up. “Need to get things back in order or it'll be too obvious.” I grinned and lent a hand by moving to the other side of the bed. When it was done we left the room and she lead me on back to the kitchen by our finger tips. There she stopped and opened a door that was next to the fridge.

She reached inside the door frame and flicked a switch and I saw that a flight of stairs led down to a lighted basement. She lead the way and I followed her down. At the bottom of the landing, she flicked another switch and my jaw must've dropped to the floor.

Along one wall was a long row of rifles of various types. Against another wall a shelf that bristled with armament and various types of electronic gear such as radios and other types that I wasn't able to immediately identify. The same wall as the stairs had stacks of ammunition canisters sitting on top of wooden crates. The middle of the room was a pool table under a plastic cover upon which sat more boxes on one side and a host of pistols in various stages of assembly.

Maggie stepped down from the landing and went over to the pool table and turned and rested her butt against it. She grinned at my face as I took in the inventory of the basement armory. The wall on to my immediate left was probably the only non-military wall as it boasted of several video games. Some were already lit up and ready to go and others I could see were still in the boot up phase. I looked at her and saw her grin. I turned to look at the video games again and said excitedly like a kid, “Aww cool! Asteroids!” and went for it. Maggie's laughter was genuine and she chased me down and grabbed me from behind, pulling me back. “Aww no you don't!” she laughed, “we got some work to do before you lose your head.” I teased by resisting her pull and made to reach out to grab at the games. “Noo, me want games, me want games!” She yanked at me hard and managed to pull me away and spun me around as she backed into the pool table again and wrapped her arms around my waist. She put on a mock stern face. “You want me or do you want games?” she teased. I held her to me and playfully growled “Me, you, we play games” and I buried my face into her neck and began kissing it.

She sighed at first almost melting in my arms, then I could feel her shaking her head and start pushing me away. “Work first, play later.” I raised my head from her neck, giving it a quick once over to make sure I didn't leave a hickey, then pecked her on her nose, “meanie” I playfully pouted and then kissed her hard before pulling away. Her eyes seemed to sparkle and she held on to me a moment longer before reluctantly letting me go and moving to the pistols at the end of the pool table. She gave a sigh and began picking up components of a particular piece and began joining it together with another. I watched for a moment as her hands put the gun together, a 1911 .45 caliber smoothly and efficiently in a matter of minutes.

“So, what can I do?” I asked. She reached for another pistol to put together and without looking up she responded. Her voice was back to business again, the hard edge that was gone during our love-making was there. “You can start by taking four of those 7.62 mm ammo boxes up stairs and leaving them by the kitchen door. They're heavy so only take what you can handle at one time.” The voice had that same edge of command that her father had and I found myself obeying before I realized it. “How much are we taking with us?” I asked as I grabbed the handles of two boxes and pulled them down. She was right, they were heavy. She turned to me and clicked the slide of another automatic pistol in place. “As much as we can take with us.”