Alison was moving to back to a place she never thought she would. Life didn’t always give you what you want, but it always gave you what you needed.
When Alison left Bound Brook to go to college, she never planned on returning. Oh, she expected to visit occasionally, her father was still there, but a quick in and out visit was all she planned. It had worked well for ten years but then her father became ill and needed help. As much as she hated the thought of giving up her life in the city, her father’s needs usurped her own so she subleased her apartment and moved back to her hometown.
Not much had changed since she’d left to go to college. Bound Brook was still a small town, surrounded by rolling hills and farmland. Good fishing in the lake brought in lots of summer visitors and even some hardy souls in the winter. Her dad’s place, Walt’s Fish and Tackle, had been around forever and had provided a good living for her and her mother. She wondered how she was going to manage her dad and the business. Enter Micah Johnson
Micah Johnson had gone to school with Alison Brady. He was a BMOC and full of himself. Not that he didn’t have the right –he was gorgeous with his black wavy hair and green eyes. He was the star of the football team, the baseball team and debate captain. Of course, he was voted Most Likely to Succeed in the Senior yearbook and crowned king of the Senior Prom. Other than an occasional nod, Alison Brady was not on his radar.
During one of her visits from college, she learned that Micah had given up his football scholarship at the state university to join the Armed Forces. She didn’t hear again until she read in the papers that he had been seriously wounded and was being discharged. Months later, on one of her visits home, she ran into him downtown. She stopped and re-introduced herself to him thanking him for his service and asked how he was making the transition back to civilian life.
“I know who you are Alison. Thank you. I’m doing okay,” he responded. His voice was flat and though he was still gorgeous, his smile was not reflected in his eyes. The spark was gone. After a few more minutes of meaningless conversation, Alison moved on. Occasionally, over the years she would give him a thought but that was as far as it went.
Her dad never mentioned he had hired Micah Johnson when he first began feeling the effects of his illness, so it was both a surprise and relief to Alison to learn that the business was being handled and was one less worry. One her first evening home, Micah Johnson came by with a pizza and a six-pack of beer and she re-introduced herself once again.
“I know all about you Alison Brady. You are the apple of your dad’s eye and I’m glad you’ve finally come back into his life.”
She felt a little put off by his remark. She was always in her dad’s life, maybe not her physical presence but there were phone calls and occasional visits.
“I’m not sure you know anything about me, Micah.”
“I know you through your dad and his photo albums. He has shared them with me on many an occasion. I don’t see many recent photos though. Why is that?”
There was that guilt again. “Are you criticizing me, Micah?”
“No, just making observations.”
And so it went. Alison learned that Micah had been coming by every evening to keep Walt company and report on the day’s business. Now, she would occasionally invite him to have dinner with them and Micah began getting to know Alison from more than the photo albums.
Neither of them had ever experienced serious relationships – Micah because of his PTSD and Alison because she never took the time. Her career had come first and now that her career was on hold, she realized for the first time, just how empty her life really was.
As her dad’s condition worsened, she leaned on Micah more and more. He was more than willing to be the shoulder on which she shed her tears. Many a night, they shed them together as Walt faded further and further away.
The day before Walt passed, the three of them sat together in Walt’s room. He was brighter than he had been in days. They spoke of life and as he began to fade, Walt asked Alison to get a box down from his closet. She found the box and handed it to him.
“No, it’s for you, after I’m gone. Promise me, to not open until then.”
“I promise, Daddy, but don’t go anytime soon.” He smiled a beatific smile and drifted off to sleep. By morning he was gone.
Several days after the funeral, she and Micah met in the attorney’s office. To Allison, it was a formality, after all, she was her dad’s only living relative and assumed she would be the sole beneficiary of his estate.
She was and she wasn’t. The house was hers, provided she continued to live in it for one year. If by the end of that year she wasn’t married, the house was to be sold and the proceeds donated to the local VFW. The contents and the insurance was hers to do with as she chose.
Walt’s Fish and Tackle was left to Micah under the same stipulations.
It took neither of them long to figure out just what Walt had in mind.
“So what are we going to do about this?” she asked Micah.
“What do we have to lose? We’re both unattached and we already have a friendship. Marriages have started with less.”
“I guess you’re right.”
So they started dating as if they were getting together for the very first time. Micah learned that Alison was fiercely independent and had a temper, Alison learned that Micah, although a patient man, would only take so much bossing around before he nipped it in the bud.
Their first altercation came about a month after they began their ‘new relationship’. It began as a silly spat and escalated when Alison threw a dish she was drying at Micah. It sailed a little too close for comfort to Micah’s head and crashed into the far wall.
The look on Micah’s face told Alison she had gone too far. She immediately said she was sorry and went to pick up the pieces.
“Not so fast, Ms. Brady.” He grabbed her arm as she passed him and pushed her against the kitchen counter. He picked up a spatula from the sink and lit into her behind. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
“I should think it obvious,” he replied.
Alison was not amused, she stomped on his foot and he howled with pain. “That’s it. The next thing she knew her capris and panties were down around her knees and she was getting her butt reddened but good. She railed against him as he brought down the spatula again and again on her already 'on fire' bottom. Words he hadn’t heard since he left the marines, came out of her mouth and as each verbal assault reached his ears, his hand gathered steam and applied it to her ass. It was almost as red as the spatula he held in his hand when he finally determined she had enough. He dropped it on the counter and bent to help pull up her clothing.
“Don’t you dare!” she said in a most hateful tone.
He didn’t listen.
“Do you need more spanking?”
“No, I need you to take me in your arms, carry me up to my bedroom and ride me hard.”
“What?” he couldn’t believe he heard her right.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear what I said.” she said bossily.
He heard and he did as she asked. He dropped her on the bed and was on her like white on rice before she had a chance to change her mind. No foreplay, no condom, no sweet nothings – just pure unadulterated lust.
Afterward, they lay there spent and sweaty. Finally, Micah looked at her. He had a sheepish look on his face. “I’m sorry I got carried away.”
“I’m not, Alison told him.“I think we may have found our stride, Micah. What do you think?”
“I think your dad knew just what he was doing. Speaking of that, I know it might not be any of my business but what did your Dad have in that box he gave you on his last day.”
“You know, I’d forgotten all about that.” She got up and padded to her Dad’s old room. The box was still on the floor next to his bed. She carried it back to her room. As she sat on the bed, she winced a bit at the soreness in her behind and smiled. Opening the box, she found a locket of her mother’s, a skate key, a silver dollar and assorted other odds and ends. It wasn’t until she had emptied all of the contents that she found the note. It was scrawled on a piece of paper in her dad’s handwriting.
To My Daughter,
Life is not bound or determined by geographic locations. You can live a fulfilling life in a small town or a big city – it all depends on you. Life is meant to be shared – share it, share it with someone special – the joy it brings will last long after the accolades of fame and fortune have faded away.
Love you to pieces.
The tears flowed as she read those last cherished words. She looked at Micah. “Do you think maybe we found our special someone’s in each other?”
“I think maybe we have.”
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