Finding Love: A Journey
By: Scotty
(Copyright 2007 by the author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

PROLOGUE

The only thing I remember about the night my mother died was the smell of the cat box.  My mom loved cats and we had three.  One was a black long hair named Dustmop.  The calico was named Adam.  And the gray, skinny one was named Curtis.  I don't know why my mom called them Adam and Curtis, but she did.

My older sister Karen had come home from college three days before my mother died.  She didn't seem too interested in what was happening.  She was on the phone most of the time talking to friends in town and calling her boyfriend back at college.  My older brother was in the army and stationed in Germany.  He didn't come home until later for the funeral.

My dad was never too affectionate or talkative.  He worked hard and always provided for us.  He was very busy selling real estate and so he seldom did anything with me except to watch television.  In the previous few months, he spent most of his time with my mother in the bedroom, watching television or reading to her.

My dad was the only one with her when she died.  He wouldn't let me in the room to say goodbye.  He said I should remember her as she was earlier.  I wondered just what that meant.  How much earlier?  Mom had been sick a long time and she was skinny and her skin was whitish-green and looked almost transparent.  I couldn't imagine how she could have looked worse.

My father didn't speak to any of us much after my mother died.  He sat in his chair and looked straight ahead.  I wondered what he saw out there in the emptiness before him.

The funeral was held at the cemetery.  A man who was the pastor of some strange little church said some things about my mother that I thought were bullshit.  My sister cried; the faker.  My brother in the army looked bored.  My father was silent.  I just watched everyone.  My Uncle Harry and my Aunt Mabel were there.  He's my dad's brother.  They looked bored, too.

I didn't like it when they started throwing dirt on the coffin as we were leaving.  I guess I realized then that this was the end of one part of my life.  I really wondered what would happen now.  I was eleven years old.

My brother Jason was home on a ten-day leave.  We shared a room together.  I was really surprised when I saw his cock.  It was really big.  One night when he thought I was asleep, I saw him moving his hand up and down on his cock.  He got to moaning and suddenly cum shot out of his cock.  He cleaned it up with a sock, then he turned on his side and went to sleep.  My cock was hard and I wanted to jerk off, but I didn't.  I did decide to watch him every night hoping he would do it again.  He did it most nights. 

My sister went back to college, eloped with some guy we had never met, and took off for California.  I didn't care and I don't think my father did.

I got home from school one afternoon and was surprised to see my father home from work.  I was usually alone until seven or eight at night because my father was often tied up showing homes to clients after they got off work.  My dad had hired a woman, Sadie Glasten, to get my dinner and do laundry and keep the place in order.  She was there and I could see that her eyes were red and swollen.  When she saw me, she hurried into the kitchen and began getting dinner or doing something that would keep her out of the living room.  I looked at my dad and he seemed preoccupied with something else.  I remembered that same look when my mother died.

"Dad, is something wrong?"

He waved his hand indicating for me to leave.  I was older now, and I didn't intend to be put off.

"Dad, what the hell's going on?  I'm your son, and I want to know what's happening?  Don't shut me out.  Please."

He looked at me, and I noticed that he seemed older, more drawn.  He was shaking a little, and when he spoke, his voice broke,

"Your brother's dead.  Jason's dead."  He turned and left the room.  I stood there in a kind of shock.  How could that be?  He's in Germany.  How can he be dead?  I ran after my Dad.  I grabbed his arm.  He flew around and looked at me with hate in his eyes.

"Don't you fuckin' understand, Jacob.  He's dead.  Dead.  Dead."

"How?" I yelled.

My father was sobbing now and so was I.  He looked more hurt than angry.  His words came through his sobs, broken and sorrow-filled,

"He got killed in a goddamned car accident.  I don't want to talk about it anymore.  Please, Jacob, please, leave me alone.  Go to your room.  Talk with Sadie.  Jason is dead!  Just let me grieve alone."  He walked to his bedroom, went in and closed the door.

I fell to the floor outside his bedroom, weeping.  Sadie came and got me and took me into the living room.  We sat on the sofa and she pulled me to her and held me tight.  She kept telling me that everything would be okay.  I didn't believe her. 

*****

Karen had hurried home from the store carrying the groceries.  She had to get supper for Billy.  He didn't like to wait on supper.  He could get mean, very mean.   Karen's body often had bruises on it, but not usually where they would show.  Billy was fond of hurting her.  He told her she didn't deserve him because she was a lowbrow cock-sucking whore.  It was his duty to get her on the straight and narrow.  Billy had started using drugs shortly after the move to California.  When he lost his job, he wanted Karen to sell herself so that they would have money for expenses.  She wouldn't do it.

Not long after her refusal and a horrific beating, Billy began to bring men home so he could have sex with them.  Karen was mortified and wanted to leave, but Billy had her so frightened that she didn't dare.  One night Billy brought home a younger man.  When he saw Karen, he offered Billy two hundred dollars for a three-way.  Billy made Karen join the two.  It was awful.  Both Billy and the other guy had intercourse with her, and then the other guy made her suck his cock while Billy fucked him.  Then the guy fucked Billy while Karen sucked Billy off.  Karen was crying during most of the orgy. 

The next day, the police found Karen's body on the beach where the tide had carried it in.  She had drowned herself.  Terrible as it is to say, Dad and I didn't care, because we didn't know.  Shortly after that, Billy was found dead, his throat slashed.  He was involved in a drug deal gone bad, the police surmised.  No one cared about him.

It wouldn't be until later after my father died, that I would find out all this about Karen and Billy.

*****

My life as a junior high and high school student in New England had not been particularly happy.  I was small  for my age and I had a slight build (scrawny maybe).  My blond curly hair made me look even younger, and although I excelled at swimming, most of the kids at school were either unaware of my accomplishments or didn't care.

I was a good student and did my assignments carefully and thoroughly, and because I always made the high honor roll, I was subjected to even more teasing.  School was rough and more than once I thought about ending it all. Then my mind would clear and I would remember all the good things in my life that shouted to me to go on.

At home, my father remained aloof and disinterested in any of the activities in which I participated.  He never saw me swim in five years.  He lived in his own world, which was dominated with making a success of his business of selling real estate.

The only concern and love that I got on a personal level was from Sadie, and she tried as best she could to provide me with encouragement and love.  It was she who attended my swim meets, who shouted me on, and who hugged me after the awards ceremonies. 

Sadie was my sounding board, listening intently to all my concerns and troubles.  I could tell that she knew how lonely I was, but she always tried to make me understand that my father was working hard so that I could have the things I needed.  In one way I understood that, but my heart often cried for his support and love.  I wanted just a hug from him so that I would know that he loved me, but I had yet to receive it. 

Before she got really sick and died, my Mom had been my most loyal supporter.  Karen and Jason were into their own things, and since I was the baby in the family I knew they thought I was spoiled.  Jason could be very mean and sometimes in the privacy of our room would call me a fag or queer.  I hated him when he did that, but usually he just put up with me, his younger brother.

When I was about twelve years old and my body began changing, I began to wonder about some of the feelings I was having.  I couldn't understand at first why my penis would suddenly get hard and I would have to try to hide it with my books while at school.  My only comfort was that I saw lots of guys carrying their books over their crotches, which made me aware that it wasn't only me.

By the time I was thirteen, I began to notice that most of the boys were into girls.  That's practically all they talked about, mentioning the size of their breasts and speculating about how much fun the girls would be for  what they called "hot" sex.  I didn't really participate in those chats.

I did know a girl who was fun to be around.  Alison was a perky brunette.  She was a super student and very active in school activities.  I worked with her on the school newspaper, not as a reporter or anything of importance, but rather as the advertising manager.  That entailed keeping lists of advertisers and the amounts they donated.  Much of the time I had little to do.

When the Sadie Hawkins Dance came up, Alison asked me to go with her.  I said I would, but she would have to help me to find a costume.  Of course, I didn't dare tell her that I couldn't dance.  We went to the dance and surprisingly had fun, even if I did just about crush her feet.  After the dance we went to her house so that she could treat me to a piece of cake she had made.  The cake was really good.  After we had finished eating, her parents excused themselves and went to their bedroom.

I would soon learn that Alison had carefully laid plans.  We sat on the small sofa where Alison pushed herself close to me, took my arm and put it around her neck, pulling it down just enough to lay on her breast.  Taking her other hand, she placed it on mine, and moved my hand over her breast, caressing it.  I didn't enjoy it.  I remained stoic for a while, but then pulled my hand away and exclaimed about the time and that I had to walk home.

Alison was not happy!  She almost cried.  She asked me if I liked her.  I told her she was a great friend, but right now I didn't want a girl friend.  Her face contorted into an animal-like scowl, and without much more to say, showed me the door.  I told her I was sorry, but she didn't answer me.  I dreaded to think what she would tell her girlfriends about me.

On my way home, I began to think about why I didn't want to feel  Alison's breasts.  What was the matter with me?  Then I thought about changing for swim practice and meets and gym classes.  I realized suddenly that I was very interested in all the boys' bodies, sneaking peeks, when I could, at their cocks.  I had to be careful, too, when I did this, as my own penis would get erect.

I was passing the town library, which was close to my home, when it dawned on me.  I liked boys better than I liked girls.  'My God,' I thought, 'that makes me queer, a faggot.'  I didn't realize at that moment what that really meant.  I just accepted the idea, filed it to the back of my psyche, and forgot it.  I would understand soon what it really meant.

*****

Since I spent so much time after school with the swim team, I suppose it was natural that something would happen there, which would freak me out and send me running to my father and Sadie.  When it did happen, and after I talked with my father, I fell into funk of all funks.  It would be a long time before I could confront myself with what my father said to me.

One of the members of the team, Jeffrey Kline, a sophomore, kept looking at me.  I was in the eighth grade.   I hated to take a shower with him because he gave me lecherous looks and would turn and show me his penis, which was usually hard.  It embarrassed me. 

Another team member, Patrick Mallory, was probably the best friend I had at junior high school, or for that matter, anywhere.  I asked Pat one day what Jeffrey was up to.  He got a red face and advised me not to be alone with Jeffrey. 

When I pressured him to tell me more, he simply told me that Jeff liked boys.  He was queer, a fag, gay, a homo.  Pat went on to tell me that if Jeff keeps  looking at you and showing you his private parts, it means he wants to have sex with you.

I couldn't believe that.  I asked Pat why he would be interested in me.  I'm small, not too good-looking and certainly not interested in him.  Pat got even more red-faced and told me that I should take a good look at my cock and then look at other guys'.  The size would tell me why.  So the next time I was naked in the locker room with other guys, I checked out the size of their cocks and then mine.  My cock was huge compared to most of theirs. So that was Jeff's interest.  Strange.

Not long after Patrick filled me in on Jeff's interests, I had the grave misfortune of finding myself alone in the locker room with Jeff.  He was talkative and friendly and there was no indication that he was interested in me in any way.  He told me he needed to take a shower, even though I noticed he had wet hair, which might suggest  a previous shower, but I said nothing.

I hurriedly disrobed and put my towel around my midsection and ran to the shower room.  It was empty.  I quickly hung my towel and went to the shower at the furthest corner of the room, turned on the water and, in a frenzy, began to wash my body.  I prayed I would be done before Jeff came into the shower.  But that was not to be.

I was not even half-finished when he took the shower  next to mine.  The corner of the shower room was on one side preventing my escape and Jeff was on the other side, smiling and examining my naked body.  I turned away from him so that all he could see was my ass.  I could feel his eyes boring into me.

"You know, Jacob, you're a nice looking guy for one as young as you."

I didn't answer, but continued to hurriedly clean myself.

Jeff snickered and then laughed lightly and continued,

"I've noticed how well endowed you are, Jacob.  I mean, cripes, your cock is bigger than any of the guys' on the swim team.  Let me have a look, will ya?"

"No, I don't show my penis to anybody.  Leave me alone, Jeff," I said as firmly as I could.

Jeff moved over to me and began to rub his hands over my ass cheeks.  To my surprise my cock began to get hard.  Jeff noticed immediately and fell to his knees and  turned me around.

"Please stop," I pleaded.

Jeff took my cock into his hand and then put my cock into his mouth and began to suck it.  I tried to push him away, but he was too strong for me.  Then I noticed that I liked the feeling of his warm mouth on my cock.  He rubbed my ass cheeks as he sucked me.  I was still trying to get away from him, and I don't know what would have happened if the coach hadn't called out to see if anyone was still in the locker room.

"Just finishing up, coach, Jacob and I will be out of here in a couple of minutes," Jeff yelled.  Then he grabbed me by my balls and squeezed them hard as he threatened me,

"If you tell anyone about what happened here today, you will be dead meat.  Understand?"  My testicles hurt so much that I almost couldn't answer, but I squeaked out a feeble,

"I understand."

I rushed out of the showers and to my locker where I dressed quickly and ran from the locker room and out to the car where Sadie was waiting for me.  I know I must have looked different because her first comment to me was a question,

"Are you okay, Jacob?  You're pale and you're trembling!"

"I'm fine, Sadie, let's go home."

Sadie did not ask any other questions. From her silence and the manner in which she proceeded to prepare dinner, I knew that she was concerned. She did quietly remind me to do some of my homework before dinner.  Usually we have a funny exchange about my doing homework, but tonight there was none of that.  Everything was very businesslike.

I went to my room and tried to do some math homework, but I couldn't keep my mind on math.  I kept having vivid images of Jeff on his knees, remembering what he was doing to me.  But what bothered me most was that I liked it, and if Coach hadn't saved me, I not sure what would have happened.  I did know one thing; I would never get caught alone with Jeff again.

Sadie called me to say that my father would be home in about fifteen minutes so I should get cleaned up for dinner.  I was happy because my father was not often home for dinner with us.  Usually he would not get home until much later because of the the demands of his work.  I missed being with him, of doing things with him, but that had never been something he did anyway. 

I hurried to get cleaned up and went down stairs to the dining room.  My father was already there, sitting at the head of the table.  He was leafing through some papers, but looked up when he heard me come into the room.

"Hi, Jacob, how was school today?"

"Fine, Dad, no real problems.  I was a little late from swimming practice because Coach had me doing some free style laps.  He thinks I can improve my time."

"Well, do what he says, Jacob.  He knows his job and I bet he can help get your time better."

At that point, Sadie came into the dining room carrying the large platter of pork chops (my father's favorite).  She placed them in front of my father so that he could serve.  She left and returned from the kitchen with a tray on which were dishes of mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, corn, and applesauce.  I was sitting to my father's right while Sadie sat on his left.

"Jacob, please say grace," my father said.

We all held hands and I bowed my head and said,

"Father in heaven, we thank You for this food which You have provided from the bounty of the earth and sea.  We thank You for each other and for the love we share.  Bless and keep my father and Sadie safe from harm.  I ask that You lead us in righteousness and good works, and bring peace to our troubled world.
Amen."

As my father began to serve dinner, Sadie remarked,

"Jacob, that was a beautiful grace, don't you think so, Douglas?"

"Yeah, yeah, it was good.  Jacob, do you want green beans, corn and applesauce?  I know you want mashed potatoes and gravy."

"Yes, please."

"How about you, Sadie?  Want everything?"

"That would be fine, Douglas, but not too much of anything."

"As usual, Sadie, everything looks and smells delicious," my father said as he handed her the plate of food.  He finally had served himself and we all began to eat.

Talk at the table stopped for a while as we all began eating our dinner.  I noticed that my father had stopped eating and had put down his utensils.  He looked at me and I saw some distress in his eyes.  Sadie shifted in her seat, looked at me, too, and then cast her eyes down at the table.

"Jacob, I need to talk to you about some things that are happening in my life at the moment.  First of all, I have a girlfriend.  Her name is Diane and she'll be here this weekend so you will get to meet her.  You have to understand, Jacob, that whether you like her or not, she will be my girlfriend until I decide that's not what I want anymore.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand.  Will she live here?  Will she be my mother?  What will happened to Sadie?  I don't want Sadie to leave, Dad."   I was near tears.  Sadie took my hand and squeezed it.

"Calm down, Jacob.  Diane will never take your mother's place.  She won't live with us for a time, and Sadie is staying on for as long as she wants.  Relax, Jacob, as far as you're concerned, your life will change very little.  I just wanted you to know about this so that it wouldn't be a surprise.  I really believe that you will like Diane.  So for the time being, don't worry about it," he said with a gentleness in his voice that I hadn't heard for a long time.

Sadie looked at me with understanding and love in her eyes,

"Everything will be fine, Jacob.  I'm not going anywhere.  Wait until you meet Diane.  I bet you will like her."

(Silence.)

"I guess," I squeaked out.

My father was chewing but was looking directly at me.  I watched as his lips curled up into a slight smile.  He winked at me, and then reaching for my hand, he said,

"Jacob, I hope you understand that I would never do anything that I thought would hurt you.  Diane wouldn't stay with me if she thought you didn't like her  or didn't want her around.  She is very aware of you and how I have neglected you for a while.  She wants to change that.  I will try, with her help, to be a better father.  Will you give me a chance to do that?"

Tears were running down my face, and I couldn't speak.  I got up from my chair and went to my father and gave him a big hug as I broke into sobs.  My father hugged me tightly, and I think he was also crying a little.  Sadie looked at the two of us, smiling, but with tears in her eyes.

"Just remember, Jacob, that I love you.  If I do stupid things, please forgive me, and understand that I have never done anything to deliberately hurt you, son."

I sat back in my chair, and looked directly into my dad's eyes,

"Hearing you say that you love me is all that I need to know."

"You two need to finish your dinner so that I can bring out the dessert," Sadie said in a voice filled with emotion.

"Right," said my dad.

"Okay," I added.  We finished our meal and Sadie and I cleared away the plates and serving dishes.  I came back into the dining room to find my father engrossed in his paperwork again.  Sadie followed on my heels with a tray with a chocolate cake, coffee, milk and dessert forks, plates and teaspoons.  She sat the tray on the table, and began to cut the cake.

"That looks mighty delicious," my father said coming out from behind the papers he was reading.

"Thank you, Douglas.  Coffee?"

"Yes, please."

"Would you like some milk, Jacob?"

"Yes, I would," I answered.  We waited until Sadie had served herself.  Then we began to eat our dessert.  Truthfully I attacked it and finished it in a flash.

"Jacob, would you like another piece of cake," Sadie asked.

I looked at my father and with pleading eyes, asked,

"Is it okay if I have a second piece of cake, Dad?"  My father chuckled and replied,

"Of course, Jacob.  If you didn't want a second piece, I would think there was something wrong with you."  Sadie handed me my second piece of cake smiling as she did so.  There was a short pause and then Sadie said,

"Douglas, Jacob seemed upset when he got out of practice this afternoon, but he said everything was okay.  I wonder if it is."

 I was very angry at that moment and wanted to tell Sadie to mind her own business, but I kept my irritation well hidden, hoping that everything would end there, but it didn't.

My father looked at me, scrutinizing my face.  He stopped eating his cake and asked me in a soft, comforting voice,

"Did something happen at school today that Sadie and I should know about?"

"Kinda."

"Come on, Jacob, that's not an answer.  If something happened, then tell us."

"It's embarrassing." I whispered.  Sadie took my hand and held it tightly.  She smiled at me, and quietly said,

"Jacob, your father and I both love you.  You can tell us anything.  We'll try to help you, but we have to know what happened."

(Silence.)

My father was getting irritated.  His body language was loud and clear.

"Jacob!"

"A guy tried to seduce me in the shower."

Sadie gasped.  My father stared directly at me.

"Oh, my god," whispered Sadie.

"What do you mean, 'tried to seduce you'?  What did he do?"

I was so embarrassed that I wanted to die or at least melt into the floor.  Sadie looked at me with such love that I knew I could count on her.  I was really afraid of what my father would say.

"Well, Jacob, let's hear it all," he demanded.

I had long ago stopped eating my second piece of cake.  Now I played with my fork, pushing crumbs around the plate, never taking my eyes away from the table.  I took a deep breath, and told them,

"He put his hand on my naked butt, and well, he put my penis in his mouth.  I tried to stop him, but he's bigger and stronger than I am.  I tried, Dad, I really did.  It only stopped because Coach yelled out to see if anyone was still in the locker rooms.  He threatened me not to tell anyone or I would be dead meat.  I ran as fast as I could, jumped into my clothes and got in the car.  I don't know what to do, dad; I don't know what to do."

"Who's the bastard that did this to you, Jacob.  Tell me his name," my father shouted.

"I can't, dad,"

"What do you mean?  Why can't you tell me his name?"

"Douglas, try to remain calm.  If we are to help Jacob, we have to keep out wits about us." 

My father glared at Sadie, but said nothing.  Before anyone else could say anything, I stood and faced my father.

"I don't want to tell you his name, dad, because I don't want any more trouble.  I want to forget it and I will avoid him.  It's that simple."

My father twisted about in his chair, ran his fingers through his hair, and looked as exasperated as I could ever remember.  Then he spoke calmly and softly to me,

"Jacob, don't you understand that this guy could do this to others who might not be as lucky as you were.  He has to be identified and helped.  It isn't natural to do what he did."

"I ... I know, dad.  But... well..."

"What are you trying to tell us, Jacob?" asked Sadie.

"I...I enjoyed it and I was scared that I did.  I'm sorry, dad.  I must be a terrible disappointment to you."

(Silence.)

Then in a thundering voice, my father asked,

"Are you queer, Jacob?  Are you a faggot?"

Sadie jumped in immediately,

"Douglas, really.  Let the boy finish.  Tell us the rest, if you want to, Jacob."

"I don't know.  I don't know.  I don't know what it is to be gay.  I don't want to be gay.  I didn't ask to be gay.  How do I know if I'm gay?  Who can help me?  Dad, please help me," I stammered through tears and sobs.

My father got up so fast from the table that he knocked his chair over making a loud bang in the otherwise quiet room.  Sadie jumped, as did I, suspecting that I was about to be beaten.  But my father said nothing for a long time.  He had reached the door where he turned,

"I don't have any answers for you, Jacob.  You'll have to find out for yourself.  I don't want to hear about this again.  Because you seemed to enjoy it, there will be no TV or games for a month.  And I am thinking of pulling you off the swim team."

"You can't do that, dad, you can't.  The team needs me."

"I can do as I damn please, Jacob.  Either the predator or you leave the team.  You decide what it will be."  He turned and stamped out of the room.

I sat there crying, trying to understand what my father had just said.  Would I have to give up the team, or Jeff's name?  It wasn't fair.

Sadie consoled me.  She put her arm around my shoulders and kissed me on the cheek.  She ran her fingers through my curly hair, and then spoke,

"Jacob, give your dad a few days to work this out in his own mind.  It's a shock to him and to me, but I know we will be able to find a solution to the problem.  Try not to focus on what your dad said, try to focus on everything that happened at dinner tonight before this.  I need to apologize to you, Jacob, for bringing this up.  Had you told me immediately what the problem was, we would have avoided all this emotional chaos."

"Sadie will you still love me if I am gay?"

"Of course, I will.  And, Jacob, your father still loves you, but he's angry right now, not so much at you as at the event and the perpetrator."

"Whether I am gay or not, and whatever happens, I know that I will love my father and you for as long as I live."

I got another hug and a warm kiss, with a suggestion that I go to my room and finish my homework.  I did that, and for a time, no thoughts of the seduction crossed my mind.  What did keep capturing my thoughts was whether I was gay or not?

I didn't know how or when I would know for sure.  Until then, I would watch my back and my front.

*****

The problem of my near seduction was not discussed again.  In fact, my father returned to his usual stoic self, spending more time at work than at home.  At first I was angry, but then I decided that I needed to get on with my life, to do my best in academics and in swimming so that I would have the credentials to get me into the college of my choice.

The routine at home returned to what we casually called normal.  Sadie, being the great person she is, never brought up "my problem" again.  Diane never did visit us at the house, rather, my father would not come home on weekends when he and Diane would go places and do things together.  I accepted my father's need for companionship, but I was sullied by it, too, since I was left alone with no real friends.

My skills at swimming continued to improve and by the time I was a sophomore in high school, my times had become good enough to be recognized and rewarded.  I won a number of ribbons and medals at meets, and I pulled the swim team to wins against good competitors.  But even with this accomplishment, I received little attention from fellow students.  Patrick continued to be my best friend, but even he had other friends who, for whatever reasons I never completely understood, chose not to include me in their activities.  I became a recluse, not attending school activities or even going to the movies.  Sadie tried to get me out of the house, but failed.

The change in my father's attitude drove me into a terrible funk.  I had a difficult time concentrating on my studies and even my swimming.  I prayed each night that my mother could come back to help me, knowing, of course, it couldn't happen.  I also had begun to think seriously about my sexuality.

As I got older and my body began to change, I became more prone to erections, caused most of the times by hot looking guys.  But nothing came of it.  My escapade with Jeff was my only sexual encounter with another guy.  In fact, no one even approached me with an offer.

My dad decided to take a job offer in a small city near West Palm Beach, Florida. I hated to leave New England, not because I had any friends, but because I felt safe there. I had tears in my eyes after the movers loaded the truck and left. My dad and I walked through the empty house. I knew there were ghosts here, not real ghosts but sad memories. As we drove down the road away from the house, I looked back and, not knowing why, tears ran down my face. I turned so that my dad wouldn't see them. I was seventeen.

The move to Florida was the final crashing of my world around me.   I didn't want to leave the home where I still felt my mom's presence; the remnants of her cologne,  the furniture, the pictures on the walls, even the pots and pans in the kitchen, were wonderful memories of happier days.  I did understand, especially with Sadie's help, that this was important to my father and his career.

He patiently explained it all to me, but gave me no opportunity to discuss it with him.  The decision had been made.  And so it was off to Florida.

To be continued...

Feedback always welcome:     

Thanks to my editor, Wayne, and to my readers, Peter and Rock.  Their help has added immeasurably to the story. Best of all, they are my friends.
 

Posted: 07/27/07