Kellie is no longer the hyperactive child she once was. Having a baby sister has changed her. She’s ‘more mature’ now that she is a big sister, she tells me, and I can see it in her. Kellie has a close bond with Olivia, and I hope as they grow and mature, my daughters will always have a close relationship. I’m still holding Olivia when I see Diane come into the room. She walks over to me and runs a gentle hand over Olivia’s soft hair.
“Did she take the entire bottle?” Diane asks in a whisper. Olivia is almost asleep, and I love the little puffs of air that I feel on my neck.
“Yes,” I whisper. I walk over to the crib and lay my baby down to sleep. Please, let her sleep a few hours. Diane and I very quietly leave the room.
“Well, we’re awake now Ethan. Do you want a snack?”
“What kind of snack?”
“Oh, really Ethan, you ask me the same question every week.”
“And don’t you always have the same answer every week?”
“I guess I do. Get back into bed, and I’ll bring it up. Put on the television but keep the volume low. I don’t want to wake up the kids. I also need a few minutes to pump milk for the baby.”
I follow Diane down the hallway, grab her by the waist, and press her against my body. My hands slide up to caress her tender breasts. I gently pinch her nipples and feel the milk coat my fingers. Diane moans and rubs herself against my hard cock. I whisper in her ear, “Can I have a taste baby?” I suppress a laugh when I feel Diane tense against me. I’ve never asked this of her with our other children. Why am I so incredibly turned on just by thinking about sucking on her breast?
“Did you just ask me if you can taste my breast milk?”
“Yes, I did baby. I’ve wanted a taste for the past two weeks. Are you going to let me have a sip?”
“Why are you doing this to me, Ethan? You know we can’t have sex for another eight weeks.”
I love winding her up. “Who said anything about making love, darling? Turn around Diane and let me taste you.”
“Not in the hallway,” she said to me as she pulls me back into the bedroom. Once we close the door, I am all over her. I’m starving for her. It’s been more than a few months since we’ve made love, and while I like a good blowjob, I want to suckle her. I want her breast in my mouth. I slide her nightgown over her shoulder, and take one of her breasts into my mouth and swirl my tongue around her sensitive nipple. Diane’s breasts are plump and luscious. I’ll miss this when she stops breastfeeding. My other hand reaches down to caress her clit. Diane moans and pulls my head closer to her breast. Her fingers slide into my hair as she digs her nails into my scalp. She is wet for me, and that’s how I like it. I feel Diane pulse around my fingers and with a few hard thrusts of my fingers; I take her over the edge. At the same time, I feel milk squirt into my mouth and like and adolescent teenager, I come in my pajamas.
Panting, Diane leans into me to catch her breath. I’ve never tasted breast milk before, and I think I like it. When I look down, both breasts are leaking milk. I run my thumbs over both nipples and Diane pushes my hands away from her body.
“Oh, no Ethan not again, I need to pump now before I leak all over the floor. Get back into bed, and I’ll bring up the tray in a few minutes.”
“Take your time,” I say to her. “I need to take a shower.”
Diane
Wow. All I can say is wow. I never thought Ethan would do that to me. My breasts are leaking all over my nightgown, and my clit is throbbing. I wonder how long I can breastfeed because that was fucking awesome. After I pump a few bottles for Olivia, I make the hot chocolate and plate the snickerdoodle cookies. I wonder how many of these we have eaten during our marriage. It’s funny how something so simple has become a significant part of our lives. I remember the early years with Ethan. It wasn’t easy taking care of Joey while Ethan worked so many long hours at the hospital. He always was ambitious, and I see those traits in my son. Who would have thought I’d have a baby at forty-five years old? Not me, but I can honestly say that I’ve never been happier in my entire life than I am now, even with the situation with my mother.
My father asked me to stop visiting my mother, and I’m relieved. It’s not easy watching her slip away from us. Each day is worse than the one before. My father has aged this past year significantly, and I worry about him. My children love Gramps #2, and without them, my dad’s life would be a living hell. He needs time away from the hospital, and I think he finally realizes the end is near.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I can’t continually dwell on this because the only thing that I can do is to take care of my father. I place a few more snacks on the tray and go back to our bedroom. When I get to the doorway, Ethan is propped up on a few pillows, and he looks so sexy in nothing but his black boxer briefs. Whoever invented boxers should be nominated for a Pulitzer. Ethan takes one look at me and rubs his hands together.
“Bring that food over here woman! Feed your man!”
“Feed yourself! This is the twenty-first century!”
Ethan laughs and grabs a few cookies. “You would think after twenty-five years, I’d be sick of these cookies, but they taste just as good as they did all those years ago.”
“Why do you suppose that is Ethan?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I guess the cookies are a metaphor for a simpler life, of young love. I’m not sure. All I know is I can’t live without them, and I can’t live without you and the children.”
Epilogue
Diane
Today is the two-year anniversary of the accident, and while I try not to think about it, it’s hard not to as I watch Ethan help Kellie get ready for school. I’ve thought a lot about that day. Part of my therapy is to accept and move on, and I’ve done that, but occasionally my mind flashes back to the accident. Today is one of hose days. Ethan and Kellie continue to bicker about her eggs. It’s funny when I think about it. Two years later, and Kellie still does not like how I cook her eggs. Talk about déjà vu!
My beautiful son finally moved out of the house and into his own apartment, which his father and I subsidize. It’s difficult for him to concentrate with all the noise in the house. Fluffy is a terror, and between the baby, the dog, and Kellie, I think my son was about to jump off the roof. Kellie misses her brother, but her primary focus is on Olivia. She no longer plays with her friends after school. She comes home from school and plays with her sister. It is so sweet seeing how they bond with each other.
“Let’s go, Kellie. You will be late for school.”
“Okay, Dad, I just want to kiss Olivia goodbye.”
It doesn’t escape me that Ethan is now Dad and not Daddy. My baby is growing up. Once the house is quiet, I feed Olivia and clean up the kitchen. I am about to give Olivia her bath when I hear the doorbell. It surprises me when I see a registered letter from Ethan’s cousin, Brian Williams. When I open the envelope, there is a letter and another envelope inside it.
Dear Diane,
I know this comes out of left field, and I am sorry if this upsets you. Last week I received a call from Michael Dougherty. He has completed his sentence early, and the judge released him from home monitoring. He called me and asked if he could speak to you. I told him that is not possible, and instead, he wrote you the enclosed letter. It is up to you whether you want to read what he has to say. I have an obligation to deliver the letter to you. I hope you, Ethan, and the children are well. Give my best to your family, and Carol and I will visit soon.
Take care,
Brian
What could he possibly have to say to me? I don’t want to read the letter. It’s been two years, and I’ve put this behind me. The last thing I need is to re-open old wounds. I pick up my daughter and go into the living room, where I place her in her crib and sit in the chair next to her. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I need to hear what he has to say, and once I do, this will be the end of it for me. I take a deep breath and open the letter.
Dear Mrs. Miller,
r /> I have thought about you for the past two years, and now that my sentence is over, I felt it was time to say a few things to you. First, I’ll never know if you have read this letter, and that’s okay. Part of my therapy is to atone for past mistakes. It is part of the AA twelve-step program. I had a lot of time to think about my life and figure out where I went off the rails. I never thought I had a problem with alcohol until that awful day. This was not my first arrest for driving while intoxicated, but it certainly is my last. The memory of that day will never leave me. When I saw how you were injured, I wanted to die because it was my fault. I knew I was tired when I got into my car. I should never have stopped for a few beers with my friends.
After the verdict, my parents made me attend AA meetings, and at first, I wanted nothing to do with them. I was in denial, and my parents physically dragged me out of the house once they got permission from the court that it was okay for me to leave the house. If I refused, they would contact the judge and have me remanded to the custody of the court. I was angry with them, angry with myself, and angry at the world. My friends took the high road because I was no longer their drinking friend. It took a long time for me to not only realize but also accept that I have a problem. I will always be an alcoholic, and it has taken me two years to find the courage to say these things to you.
What happened that day will stay with me for the rest of my life. When I saw how the paramedics had to cut the roof off your car, well, I will never forget that image. I pray every day for you and your family. I pray that eventually, you will forgive me for the pain and suffering that I inflicted on you. It hurts more than I can say knowing I caused another human being pain. I have been sober for seven hundred and fifteen days. I attend meetings every day at the Chestnut Street center, and my sponsor is now my best and only friend. I’ve left behind my old life. I want to start a new life sober, and with the knowledge that I must remain steadfast in my resolve. It is my mission in life to remain sober. I never want to hurt another person. I want to live a good live Mrs. Miller. My sponsor helped me to find a job that is rewarding to me on many levels, and in a few months, I will be a sponsor to another unfortunate soul who needs help.
Please forgive me, Mrs. Miller. I never meant to hurt you, and until I die, I will always regret that day.
With respect,
Michael Dougherty
*****
My eyes burn with tears as I fold the letter and place it back in the envelope. I am lost in my own thoughts when I hear Olivia make gurgling sounds next to me. It’s not lost on me that we have our beautiful daughter because of the accident. I can say with certainty that I did not want to have another baby; however, Olivia is our rainbow child. Our daughter healed both of us. I know what I need to do. I pick up Olivia and carry her upstairs. I need to meet Michael Dougherty. Ninety minutes later, I park my car in the lot next to the building. It’s a little past ten in the morning, and I see several people waiting for the doors to open. I stand in line with everyone else when I see two men approach the line. Several people say hello to Michael. God, he looks so young. How can someone so young have this problem? When the doors open, I follow everyone because I have no idea where I’m going. Michael looks at me, smiles and holds the door for me. “Thank you,” I say to him.
“You’re welcome. Is this your first meeting?”
“Um, I’m here today as a visitor.”
“Oh. That’s okay. Everyone is welcome. Have a seat and the meeting will begin in a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” I say again.
I look around the room, and it surprises me to see so many young people. I try not to stare at Michael, but it’s difficult. Five minutes later, the meeting starts.
“Hello everyone, my name is Michael, and I am an alcoholic. I have been sober seven hundred and twenty-five days. I would like to tell you my story.”
I sit and listen to Michael tell the people in this room how he hurt me. It is difficult watching him break down several times and cry. The remorse I hear in his voice is genuine. Several people rise from their seats to comfort him and seeing this does something to me. Michael cries for several minutes as he tells everyone about his struggle to overcome his addiction, and his newfound strength, thanks to his sponsor.
Michael continues. “If you take anything away from this meeting, know that actions have consequences. I lived in denial for a long time, and if it weren’t for my parents, I would probably be dead, or in prison. I regret many things in my life, but hurting someone changes you. Please, before you pick up a drink, call me, or call your sponsor. I do not want anyone living the hell that I’ve lived the past two years. I regret my actions every day, and nothing I do or say can change what happened that day. The only thing that I can do now is live a sober life because picking up a drink is no longer a choice for me. I can’t do it again, because if I do, I may kill someone. I never want to cause another person to suffer because of my careless actions. It’s that simple.”
As I listen to Michael, I glance around the room. There is a lot of sadness in this room, but I also feel a sense of optimism. Everyone in this room acknowledges that they have a problem, and draw strength from each other as they cope with their daily lives.
I have something to say and raise my hand. Michael acknowledges me. “Yes, do you have something that you would like to share with the group?”
“Yes, thank you. Hello, everyone, my name is Diane. I am not an alcoholic, but I have a story to share with all of you. Two years ago, I was hit by a drunk driver while I was on my way to work. My injuries were severe. I had surgery to repair a head injury; I had a broken arm, leg, and ribs. When I awoke from the surgery, I had lost my memory. To make a long story short, my life and the lives of my husband and children were affected by what happened to me. It took many months for me to regain my memories.” I feel Michael staring at me, and when our eyes meet, there is a silent recognition that passes between us.
“I kept asking myself, why did this happen to me? I had to relearn everything because I had no memory. Imagine how I felt when my teenage son had to help me with reading and math, or my eight-year-old daughter helping me with the alphabet. I wanted the person who hit me to suffer. I was happy with the court sentence. I recovered eventually and moved on with my life, but I never forgot that awful day.”
“Today I received a letter from the person who hit my car, and it brought me to tears. His letter is sincere, and I feel his regret with each word. I know he is sorry for what happened that day. I’m sorry too, but we can’t go back in time to fix things. Somehow, we must accept what happened and find a way to live with it. I thought I had done that until I received his letter. What I find amazing is how I reacted to his letter. I sat for a long time holding it in my hand. My baby was next to me making gurgling sounds, giggling, and just being the light of my life.”
“I wanted to come here today to tell all of you that there are consequences to the decisions we all make, and I admire and respect all of you for having the courage to overcome your demons and live a productive life. I also wanted to tell you, Michael, that I forgive you, and I wish you a happy life. My life is good, and I don’t want you obsessing about whether I read your letter. I did read it, and I will keep it always as a reminder that no one on this earth is perfect. We atone for our sins and strive to live a better life. I want you to have a good life, Michael.”
It breaks my heart when Michael falls to his knees and cries. Everyone in the room surrounds him and this as my cue to leave. I’ve said what I needed to say, and it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Today is a good day, and tomorrow will be even better.
*****
Later that night, as Ethan and I lay in bed holding each other, I tell him what happened today. He’s a little pissed, and I can understand why. “Calm down Ethan. It’s all good. Don’t you see? I had to tell him my story. I wanted him to know how what he did hurt not only me but also our family. His letter touched me deeply. I felt his regret. I felt
his sincerity and his desire to change his life. I had to see it for myself, and now that I have, I never want to talk about it again.”
“I would have gone with you, Diane. Why did you do this by yourself?”
“I sat in the living room with Olivia next to me, and all I could think about was the past two years, and about how what happened changed our lives. I realized that because of what happened to me, we now have Olivia. It’s difficult to explain. I feel like this puts an end to what happened to me. I had to face him, Ethan. I had to tell him how his careless decision affected so many lives. Maybe now he will be able to relay those feelings in future AA meetings and help someone else before he or she makes a careless choice and hurts someone. Now I can finally bury these memories and live my life. It’s liberating when I think about it. We have a wonderful life, Ethan. I have a husband that I love with every fiber of my being, and three beautiful children. When our time comes to leave this earth, I leave knowing I’ve lived a full life and loved completely.”
Author’s Note:
Thank you for taking the time to read my book. I hope you enjoyed Ethan and Diane’s journey.
You can also follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
Facebook: https://bit.ly/2e2gNAG
Twitter: https://bit.ly/2eKUcaq
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends