This is ‘Part 2’ of a two-part story about a couple who find love after their worlds fall apart.
All the characters in this story are over eighteen years of age. None of them, nor the towns of Hickoryvale or Brockleville, exist outside of my befuddled imagination.
I hope you enjoy it.
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PART TWO
October 2020
Four months had passed since Roxanne moved in with Archie, into his newly renovated farmhouse. Ever since that warm afternoon at the stream pool, when Roxanne in her own special way, informed Archie that she was ready to move their relationship up a notch, their lives had been spectacular. They were still in that special ‘honeymoon stage’ that many couples experience once they’ve become intimate.
For the first few weeks afterward, they had made love two, sometimes three times a day, but of course, that was a special time for new lovers and wouldn’t last. They were now intimate at least once a day. On days when separated by work or other duties, they thought continuously of each other while apart.
But there were still life adjustments required by each of them. Roxanne had been on her own most of her adult life after leaving medical school, where she’d shared rooms with a variety of young women. Archie had been on his own for a year now, after he and his ex-wife Chloé, had parted company. They were each over-cautious at first; making sure the other had as much space as needed. It had been easy when Roxanne first arrived; she’d been sick and spent most of her time sleeping in the spare room. Now she was feeling as good as new and had moved into the master bedroom with Archie, so they were together almost twenty-four hours per day.
Archie finally asked her about it. “Hey Roxy, you’ve gotta tell me if I’m in your face too much. It’s a big house and property; if you need some quiet time alone, I’ll understand and find something else to amuse myself with for a while.”
“Arch, you haven’t even come close to getting on my nerves and I can’t imagine that you ever will. I was worrying that I might be getting annoying — you had the run of the place long before I arrived.”
Archie was surprised to hear this. “Good God no, I enjoy every single minute we’re together. I can’t imagine ever needing time away from you. When I go into town for my volunteer shift at the hospital or for supplies or any other reason, all I can think about is getting back home to you. Please don’t ever worry about that…”
“I’m delighted to hear it and I feel exactly the same way. Why don’t we make a pact that we’ll let each other know if we need some ‘me time’ for any reason.”
“Deal,” said Archie. “It’s considered unsafe to shake hands these days, so I’m going to hug you instead.”
And he did — a hug that quickly found his hands sliding down under the waistbands of her shorts and underwear, cupping, squeezing, and fondling her buttocks. They fell onto the couch in the living room and a half-hour later, the hug was finally complete. The two of them then had a half-hour naked nap together, right there in the living room.
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One unpleasant remaining duty for Roxanne was dealing with her parents’ vacant home in Panama City on the Florida Panhandle. Having researched driving routes on Google Maps, she estimated it would be a six to seven-hour drive from Archie’s house.
After her parents died, she’d made arrangements by telephone, e-mail, and courier, to have them cremated, and their ashes shipped to Archie’s address. The small box, with much reinforcing tape along the edges and corners, was stored on an upper shelf in the entry closet until Roxanne decided what she wanted to do. Archie had piled a couple of shoeboxes in front of it, after noticing it upset her when she saw it there. Once she’d decided what to do with the ashes, he’d help her in any way he could.
Finally, Roxanne felt well enough, spiritually and physically, to take the trip down to Florida to deal with her parent’s home. She had no interest in keeping it and it might require some work before listing it for sale. Archie volunteered to drive her down in his Tacoma and she agreed, thankful for his company and moral support. She had not been relishing the south Florida freeway traffic which was almost back to normal these days, with more and more of the US population being vaccinated.
They left early on a Monday morning and arrived at her parents’ empty home early that afternoon. The hospital in Tallahassee had sent her parent’s personal effects, including her mother’s purse, her dad’s wallet, and his keys. It had been so sad to open a separate padded envelope inside the package and find their watches and wedding rings. They had been transported to the hospital in separate ambulances, so Roxanne found their car safely stored inside the enclosed garage. Later that day, Roxanna drove it to a nearby dealership, where the sales manager happily purchased it on the spot. There was a problem these days in the auto industry with dwindling production of computer chips for new cars, so some makes and models were in short supply. This was driving up the price of used cars as well.
Her parent’s home was musty, having been locked up for several months with no ventilation or air conditioning. As they’d walked through the empty house, she felt they were trespassing. There were signs that her parents’ last days here had been terrible, as their Covid worsened. The bed was unmade and unlaundered clothes littered the floor of the walk-in closet. Bottles and boxes of fever medication were scattered on the kitchen counter and in the ensuite. The sink was full of unwashed dishes. The pool in the backyard was filthy with much wind-blown debris and bugs floating on the surface.
They opened some windows a few inches and turned on the AC, hoping the stale odors would soon be gone. There were too many memories in the house for Roxanne and she couldn’t bear to spend a night here. They checked into a nearby Four Seasons Hotel and had dinner that evening in their 5-star dining room. They went for a mid-evening swim in the hotel pool and back in the room after removing her bikini, Roxanne took Archie in a full-body hug.
“I need you to fuck me, Arch. I need to have at least one good solid memory of this trip, and you jumping my bones would be a wonderful one.”
Archie was surprised at her choice of words — she seldom used F-bombs unless something was going on. Clearly, this trip to her parent’s home was affecting her more than he realized. He took her to the queen-sized bed and over the next hour, made slow gentle love to her. There was no flurry of different positions… she lay under him on her back for the entire session, her arms wrapped around his torso pulling him tightly to her, her face buried in his throat. This was different than their usual crazy passionate love-making back home. This was him providing moral support and taking some of the emotional weight she was carrying and transferring it to his shoulders. Archie was pretty sure she didn’t have an orgasm that night but knew the act had been deeply therapeutic for her.