A double-post, but worth it

For those blogmates keeping score, I'll say up front that The Deed is not done. But some things are more significant, sometimes....

This is going to get long. Thought I should say so now, so you can get comfortable. And sorry for the double post today!

So, I couldn't actually bring myself to pray for sex. I felt much better about praying for a clear display of affection from New Fella. Some overture to let me know, without a doubt, that he was not only attracted to me, but also felt that kind of affection and intimacy that I crave. Well, dear blogmates, always keep in mind that God answers your prayers as he sees fit. And it's usually coming at you from left field.

I went to his house without clear plans this evening. I'd seen a spark of hope of something "interesting" at lunch. I'd ordered this limeade drink that had blueberries in it. Sounded like a good idea, but the application is problematic....blueberries stop up a straw! I noticed this and glanced up at him, straw poised at my lips. The gaze staring back at me about knocked my socks off, burning a naughty fascination with me that said, "if you suck that blueberry through that straw, we'll have to clear the table right here and now...." I teased him with a lick of the straw and a smile. He smiled back, and we cut it out before my daughter could notice.

So, we decide to watch a movie tonight. We watch a hell of a lot of movies.... I get to his house and his daughter is joining us for the movie. That's okay, although not conducive to my fantasies. We watch the movie, and his son gets home with his girlfriend. This is where the trouble started. Remember the problem I mentioned at lunchtime, with his son? Here's the problem -- the boy is an alcoholic. And he's really screwed things up the last couple of days.

New Fella turns off the TV. He launches into a discussion with his son about what's happening with him. His daughter chimes in, too. It's not an argument. It was more like, "Listen, I love you and I will not give up on you. You're a good person, but you have a problem and it has to change or you'll die." Daughter is crying, worrying about her brother. It was also a discussion with the girlfriend, along the lines of "We like you and would hate to see you go, but this is what's happening and this is how you can help him and yourself." New Fella had very, very wise words for this girl, if she'll listen.

Of course, this tense family scene was very tense for me. I was not expecting it. To be honest, I had a lot I could say to this young man from my own experience. My "first" was an alcoholic. He destroyed everything around him, finally destroying himself at the ripe old age of 42. This young man is a really good kid. He has more to offer the world than this. I'm too new to the situation to speak up, though. Later, I told New Fella all of that, but I'm jumping ahead....

When the scene resolved, New Fella turns to me and says, "Let's go get a bite. " I grab my keys and we head out. Son follows, and I brace myself for a scene. Instead, he puts his arms around his dad and they stand in an emotional embrace. I step into the shadows for a moment. When New Fella comes to me, I put a hand on his cheek, and wipe a tear away. "Are you okay?" I ask. "I'm okay," he says, a little shaky and gives me a sweet little kiss.

He complains that he didn't get anything done today that he needed to. We talk about his son and the girlfriend on the way to the restaurant. I tell him my little experience. He comments that the scene at home couldn't have been comfortable for me, but I tell him, "It's okay, though....I can handle that." And I can. Because what does it tell me? He was comfortable with me by him during a tough time. We ate and I let him talk, about all sorts of things. He smiled and laughed.

When he meets my eyes, there's affection there. Sometimes, with an intensity I have to look away from, but I'm trying not to. It's what I prayed for, isn't it?

It's raining on the way back to his house. We sit in the car and talk some more. He's telling me about the hard times they went through with his daughter. Some really hard, heart-breaking times. All of a sudden, he's telling me about looking for his daughter's Christmas present that year and finally finding the perfect thing. The reason it was perfect was the sentimental message it represented.

That sentimental reason still evokes the emotion he had that day. He begins to cry.

We're sitting in my car together, the rain is streaming down the windows, and he's telling me about this, and crying. I keep my hand on his shoulder. "God, I hate my kids," he says through the tears, and we laugh because it's such an obvious lie.

We start saying our goodbyes. He rests his hand on my knee as we're talking, kissing a little. Before he heads into the rain, he turns to me and says, "It was a good day." It struck me just then that he meant a good day for he and I, because the rest of the day sucked for him.

I think I got the affection and the intimacy I prayed for. Just not how I thought I would. In many ways, though, this is better.