Authors: Kristen Ashley
Grandma Miriam was shrewd, she’d take one look at my swollen lips, my dreamy eyes and she’d know Gray and I were making out.
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time she saw that.
Suffice it to say, the last week had been eventful. In fact, I’d never lived a week so eventful.
Or so fantastic.
After going to church last Sunday with Gray and Grandma Miriam (in jeans, which was mortifying and made worse when Grandma Miriam glanced askance at them the second I hit the bottom of the stairs), Gray dropped me off in town and I had my lunch at the diner with Casey.
I thought he’d take the news that I got a job and was staying in Mustang no matter what explosively.
But I didn’t take into account how loved up he was. Casey and his mystery woman (I still didn’t know her name) were bonding, seemingly as tight as Gray and me. In fact, he hurried through lunch since it was Sunday, her day off and he wanted to get back to her. He was even excited and proud that I nailed down a job.
He was all for staying in Mustang. Didn’t utter a word of protest. Not a peep.
He still didn’t ask about Gray. He also didn’t ask if I was crashing at Gray’s or if Gray was taking care of me.
But he did ask for money.
So I gave him two hundred dollars and then I went to the department store and blew a wad of cash on a new outfit. It was just a skirt, a sweater and a pair of tights. But I did it so the next time I went to church with Gray and Grandma Miriam, she wouldn’t give me a hard look about my outfit.
And I liked it. I hadn’t owned a skirt in so long, I didn’t know if I actually ever did. Further, it was nicer (thus, more expensive, unfortunately) than anything I’d ever owned. It was a long, full, black wool skirt that had a graceful line that went down to my ankles and a matching, thick but fitted wool turtleneck sweater. My cowboy boots would have to do but luckily, my black ones were the nicer ones.
After I went shopping, Gray picked me up and I spent part of that Sunday afternoon convincing Gray I’d be safe in the room above The Rambler that Janie offered me. Then I spent another part of that Sunday afternoon assisting Gray in unearthing and boxing up stuff to take to the room. This was because Gray called Janie and she told him there was a double bed, a couch and nothing else up there. Another part of that afternoon was spent watching with some fascination as Gray brought in an old coffeemaker that had quit working and he fiddled with it for awhile to make it work again.
For her part, Grandma Miriam wheeled in and out of places Gray and I were. When she did this, she did it wearing an expression that said she didn’t know if it was brilliant news I was not going to be under her roof, a constant temptation for Gray to turn heathen or if she was convinced I’d disappear with their castoffs and live the life of luxury shooting up on skid row with drugs I purchased hocking her stuff.
Monday morning, Gray drove me into town and we met Janie at the bar. She showed me my new space and Gray carried up the boxes. She was right. It was small. A room, against one side there were cupboards, minimal countertops, a half fridge she had to turn on and an old, narrow stove. There was a bathroom with all you needed but no tub, just a shower and no shower curtain. There was a couch. There was a double bed, no pillows so it was lucky Gray packed two for me.
Janie went home, Gray went to do stuff Gray had to do and I unpacked a bit, made the bed, but I was supposed to be at work at eleven and I was.
And that was, essentially, it for my week.
But that was everything.
My life hit a pattern unlike any it had had before.
I went to the general store for cleaning stuff and the department store for a shower curtain.
I spent my mornings cleaning, doing my minimal unpacking, popping to the store and putzing around.
At work I was mostly a waitress but also made some drinks. My hours were eleven to eight. It was not taxing and considering I could make change quickly on the fly and found I had a head for memorizing orders, even complicated ones, I took to it by the second day. Janie was thrilled.
So was I. My shift meant I worked the lunch
and
dinner crowd and I was right, the bar was way more populated during those times. Tips were nothing to sneeze at and I cannot explain how unbelievable it felt every day to have cash in my purse and know the next day I’d earn more.
Earn
it.
I loved it.
My first day, Gray came in for dinner on my shift and then went upstairs with me after it so he could deliver an old TV he got for me from somewhere. Then we made out on my couch and before it got too heated, he went home.
The second day, Gray came in half an hour to the end of my shift, I stayed another half an hour to sit next to him, drink a beer and shoot the breeze with Janie. Then we went to my room, made out on my couch and before it got too heated, he went home.
The third day, Gray came in half an hour to the end of the shift, he took me to his place after it and we watched TV with Grandma Miriam who had not thawed even a little bit toward me. Then Gray helped her get to bed, he came out, we made out on
his
couch and then he took me home before it got too heated.
This went on until yesterday, my first day off, Gray met me at the diner for breakfast then he took me to his place to start teaching me how to ride a horse.
But after he got a docile mare saddled up and we were about ready to walk her out so Gray could show me how to climb on, he gave me a new pair of gloves he bought for me.
They were beautiful; a sandy suede with attractive stitching and they were lined with soft rabbit fur.
I looked at the gloves then him then the gloves then I decided, instead of bursting into tears seeing as he was the first person to give me a gift since Casey and I made our getaway, I would throw myself at him.
So I did.
Gray caught me and since there was no Grandma Miriam in the stables, no work the next morning, no nothing, we ended up (seriously!) in a haystack and Gray gave me the best present in the variety of presents he’d been giving me.
Lips on my lips, tongue in my mouth, body pressed to the side of mine, hand in my jeans, his long, strong fingers working magic, he gave me my first-ever orgasm.
It was
amazing
. Mind-boggling. The fact was, after having it, it was so spectacular I couldn’t focus on his face for at least a full minute.
And when I did that handsome face was grinning at me in a way that was so sexy I nearly had another one.
And it also hit me that he gave me that and he didn’t get his own.
“What about you?” I whispered.
“I’m inside you for the first time, dollface, it’s not gonna be on a bunch of hay.”
The hay was warm and I liked the smell of it but it was also scratchy and although the air in the stables was not as cold as outside, it wasn’t toasty warm either.
Therefore, I saw his point.
So we got out of the hay and he gave me my first horseback riding lesson.
I was pretty good, Gray even said so.
But what he gave me in the hay started something. Something I wasn’t experienced enough to understand fully but intuitively I felt that he liked giving it to me, he liked what he saw when he did and because of that, the floodgates opened.
A week of making out, heavy petting, getting used to him, his taste, his smell, his hands, his body, discovering all of that was fantastic. I loved every second. But I would understand after he gave me what he gave me in the hay that, before, he had it under stringent control.
Because, after, that control was gone.
And, it must be said, it probably helped that him giving me that, knowing what that felt like, how beautiful it was and wanting more of that from Gray, my control was gone too.
All day yesterday after our time in the hay, when his eyes dropped to my lips, he didn’t drop his head to touch his to mine. He dropped his head, his mouth hit mine, his tongue drove into my mouth and then we went at each other like there was no tomorrow. He’d press me against the wall, the counter, take my hand and drag me out of a room his Gran was in and there he’d press me against a wall and lay a hot and heavy one on me. Lots of tongue, lots of hands and it felt like, for the both of us, it took a mammoth effort to pull away.
I loved it. I loved that he liked touching me, tasting me, holding me and letting me know he did. And I loved doing those things to him.
In fact, I loved everything.
I loved Mustang.
I loved my little room even though there wasn’t much to it, not even personality (yet). It still was mine and for a girl who carried everything she owned in a bag, that room was a huge step up.
I loved Janie. I loved my job. I loved our customers. I loved having cash in my purse. No, I loved having cash
I earned
in my purse and the way I earned it being normal, real not to mention legal.
I loved making coffee in the morning from my coffeemaker, pouring it in my cup (well, ones I’d borrowed from Gray but still, I’d have my own soon) and standing by the window at the front, watching the town of Mustang wake up. I loved pouring my own cereal using my own milk. I loved going to the corner market on the square to get bits and pieces. I loved going to sleep in a bed I knew I’d go to sleep in the next night, and the next, and the next.
And then there was Gray who I loved most of all.
Truly, completely…I fell hard and I didn’t mind the fall, it didn’t hurt a bit so I stayed down.
Since I was going to church with them and I spent all day at Gray’s yesterday, instead of taking me back into town only to go back in and pick me up in the morning, I crashed in his guest bedroom.
And I spent half the night trying to find sleep instead of throwing back the covers, wandering down the hall, finding Gray and convincing him to disrespect his grandmother in their home.
Luckily, I succeeded in this endeavor.
But I had the feeling that it wouldn’t be long before I had Gray,
all
of him, and I…could not…
wait.
I looked at myself in the mirror and even to me, taking in my swollen lips, dreamy eyes; I saw that I looked happy.
And that was something else I’d never seen, I’d never had, never felt, not in my life.
“Dollface.” I heard Gray say and at his strange tone of voice, I whipped around to see he also had a strange look on his face.
I studied him a moment and saw it was concern.
“What’s going on?” I asked softly, moving quickly to him.
“Don’t know. It’s Gran. She’s in her bathroom, tellin’ me to call her friend Shirley. She says I can’t go in. She doesn’t sound right.”
Oh dear.
I held his eyes even as I made it to him then moved by him and hurried into the hall, down it and down the stairs.
Grandma Miriam’s room was around the stairs and at the end of the back hall that ran parallel to the front hall which went to the kitchen. Gray told me he renovated their old den with a handicapped accessible bathroom after she had her accident but I’d never been back there.
Still, upon entering her room, it didn’t look like a renovated den. It looked like it had been a bedroom since the house was built. Clearly, he’d moved everything as she had it wherever she used to sleep and put it in here.
Again, an indication of how sweet Gray could be.
The bathroom door was closed. I went to it and knocked.
“Mrs. Cody, are you okay?”
Silence then, “Gray call Shirley?”
“Gran,” Gray called from behind me, “Shirley lives forty-five minutes away. Ivey’s here, you need somethin’, she’ll help you out.”
Gray had shared that his grandmother’s spinal injury was located low on her spine and it was a “partial” which meant she had total control of her torso and some control of her legs. That said, they were weak and the control unpredictable so her legs couldn’t support her if she was in a walker or they would give out at random times. They knew this because they tried.
He also told me a nurse came every day but Sundays and Wednesdays to help Grandma Miriam get showered. Grandma Miriam’s best friend Shirley, a retired hairdresser, came every Wednesday to give her a shampoo and set. But she could mostly clothe herself just with the use of the parts of her body that she had but also she had a bunch of tools she’d been trained to use at the rehabilitation hospital. He shared further that from all that wheeling and moving herself around, she had the upper body strength of weightlifter and she could also do her bathroom business. From what Gray said and what I’d seen, she was incredibly self-sufficient though Gray had assisted in some of this. For instance, he’d installed a mirror over the stove so she could cook on the two front burners and see what was happening on the stove by looking up at the mirror.
It was ingenious.
It was also sweet.
But Gray did not help her with personal stuff. She changed into her nightgowns; he just lifted her into bed. Or out of it. He didn’t dress her and he didn’t bathe her.
And now she was behind a closed door in the bathroom.
“Call Shirley!” she shouted and I understood Gray’s concern. She sounded funny, not herself. It wasn’t pain but I didn’t know her enough to know what it was.
Though some of it was impatience and irritation, I knew her enough to hear that.
I looked up at Gray whose jaw was hard, he also looked impatient as well as worried and he was moving to her phone on her nightstand.
Before he made it there, I turned back to the door, knocked twice, put my hand to knob and called through the door, “Mrs. Cody, I’m coming in!”
Then I turned the doorknob back and forth a couple of times just to give her time before I pushed open the door and went in.
Then I closed it swiftly behind me even as my heart jumped into my throat.
She’d fallen off the toilet.
How, I didn’t know. But she was on her side on the floor, her panties pulled awkwardly up, the skirt of her dress shoved down. Her chair was in an awkward place, tilted and resting on the side of the tub like she’d run into it when she fell and tipped it over. She’d gotten both panties and skirt twisted somehow, probably panic and embarrassment so her skirt was tucked in her panties in places it would be hard to get to since she had to roll back and forth in the small space she had to do it. And that rolling probably made it worse.