Growing Up With Beth 16

Growing Up With Beth

© Copyright 2000 by silli_artie@hotmail.com

This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the prior express written permission of the author.

A work of fiction, meant for adults. Read something else if you are not an adult, or are offended by stories with sexual content. Then again, if all you’re looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you should probably read something else. I welcome constructive comments. Enjoy.

Part 16

A very weird, intense dream -- I was in the beanbag chair, naked, with someone on top of me, riding me. Initially it felt like Gail -- but she was talking to me, and it was Beth’s voice, or was it Madame Dumay’s? The beanbag -- it felt like a couch at Madame Dumay’s. And the face changed -- Gail, then Hanna, then Celeste, their mom. I was so close, reaching for those nipples, inches away -- they were Rachel’s, and the hands squeezing my neck were definitely Rachel’s.

I woke up on my back, grabbing my cock as I came, pumping on to my belly. I rolled up and out of bed, staggering to the bathroom, disoriented.

I wiped myself off with a washcloth. Wow -- that was the third wet dream I’d had in my life. The faces, the voices, the sensations -- all so intense.

I walked back to bed -- four fifteen in the morning. I was rattled.

I picked up the phone and called Rachel. She was just about to get up. I babbled about last night and about my dream, waking up to a wet wick. Oh, how I missed her.

When I ran out of steam, she sighed.

"Oh, Andy -- I miss you too. You’ve been in my dreams too. I know what you need, sweetie. Lay back on the bed for me."

I did, and she started speaking softly. At first, I didn’t understand what she was saying -- but part of me did, and I zoomed down into a deep trance. She was holding me, rocking me, comforting me. I knew she loved me, and I told her how much I loved her. She held me and rocked me more, and rocked me to sleep again.

I was jarred awake by the phone ringing. I was a little cold -- I’d been asleep on top of the covers. It was light out. I answered the phone, and was startled by someone yelling at me in French. I’m not sure how I replied, but I heard laughter on the other end.

Bernard and M. Dumont were calling. I looked at the clock -- six thirty. They thought I should be up by now. Was I still exercising? Oui, mon Capitain! That was good -- more laughter. We talked financials for a bit -- they’d sent me an e-mail update -- we’d been doing quite well. What did I want to do? I told them of setting up accounts near Stanford, transferring some money to cover incidentals. Bernard chuckled -- I should be able to do that. What level of risk was I willing to assume in my investments going forward? I’d have to talk that over with Carl, but I didn’t want to risk any more than I had invested. They had three things coming up -- a sure thing, a wild one, and a medium risk one. Would I be interested? Oui -- where are you putting your money, mon Capitain? "Sure things" in horse races most often end up at the butcher’s shop. That got laughter and agreement. Did I have a bank picked out? Nope. They’d find one for me and set up transfers. Who was doing my taxes? I’d have to talk to Carl -- were they going to be a problem? For the average person, yes -- they’d give me some names in the Palo Alto area. Okay, I’ll call tomorrow or Friday -- Thursday is a travel day.

I thanked them again for everything they’d done for us, and bid them a good evening.

I shook my head, and went to the bathroom. I did my morning yoga, then went out for a run. I showered, and told the computer to print out my e-mails as I fixed some breakfast.

Rachel sent me a note -- she’d make me a few MP3 audio files for trance work -- I’d been really hungry for it. As was she -- she told me I needed to do some for her as well. She reminded me that hypnotic suggestions need to be reinforced periodically.

I knew she was right -- oh, how I missed that touch, those words, that sent me deep into trance. We’d have to do something about that.

Bernard’s note -- O Merde! The 50 grand I’d put in, plus my earnings from the summer, were now worth about $280,000 -- with cautionary notes about the effects of repatriating funds and U.S. taxes. I could handle incidentals, indeed!

I thought about Beth’s warnings, and about my talks with Bernard. I was going to be a penny pincher -- spend very selectively.

I got to Carl’s office a little early. I gave the receptionist my name, and sat in the lobby. I sat, exploring the feelings the place brought back -- the whole settlement deal around Christmas. Why did I feel tense and upset here? This was a place of protection for me. Nice try -- it was a fortress, complete with warring hordes outside the walls.

Carl walked in, glanced at me briefly, took two more steps, and stopped mid-stride.

"Andy?" he asked, turning back to me.

I smiled and stood up. "Good morning, Counsel. Thanks for making the time for me," I said as I extended my hand.

He shook his head as he shook my hand. "Beth told me you’d changed. Come on back. Cathy, we should be about forty-five minutes. If Marshall calls, tell him we received his fax, and I’ll call him as soon as I can."

The receptionist nodded.

"Carl, I’m under no time constraints -- make some calls if you need to."

Carl smiled. Sometimes smiles from lawyers mean different things. "No, he needs to wait. My, the summer did you good! All ready for school?"

We talked for a bit about the summer, and my school plans. Eventually, our discussion turned to money.

Carl smiled and shook his head. "Andy, I was dead-set against your investing with these people earlier in the summer. I thought you didn’t know what the hell you were doing, and were getting taken to the cleaners by some fast-talkers. Beth convinced me that even if it was the case, it would be an excellent educational experience for you. What can I say? I was wrong."

I shook my head. "No, Carl -- I didn’t know what I was doing, and I still don’t. But I do trust Bernard, Dumont, Lubat, and company. I thought it was -- what’s the English phrase -- a prudent risk. I talked to Bernard this morning. I want to manage risk very carefully."

He nodded. "Last I checked, your investments with them were worth about two hundred grand. That leaves about two hundred fifty grand from your dad’s insurance, and you haven’t touched the settlement. The fees you’ve paid so far have come out of the prize money, and only amounted to about five grand. You’re doing quite well."

I laughed. He didn’t know how much they’d increased in the last month. "For now? Until I go wild? What’s undergrad per year? Thirty?"

"You’ve got scholarships this year, renewable if you do well," he interrupted.

"I know. Look at worst-case, after this year -- three years at thirty, plus two years at thirty, that’s one fifty to get out. Then med school -- three years at fifty per year, that’s three hundred. So I’m looking at spending four fifty, say five hundred grand. I need to be careful."

Carl frowned. "Andy, I thought you were thinking of being a Math major at one time. Those numbers don’t add up, at least not for one person. What are you planning, and with whom?"

I smiled. "I’m not planning -- I’m targeting extremes. Carl, are you my attorney?"

He nodded. "Yes, why?"

"Good -- then you owe me a duty of confidentiality."

He raised an eyebrow. "Unless you’re going to go out and shoot someone."

"No -- it’s just something Beth doesn’t need to hear, especially now. I’m figuring on how I’d put two of us, Rachel and I, through school without scholarships if it came to that."

He smiled and chuckled a little.

"Carl, it may not happen. As I said -- it’s one extreme. The other extreme is I go for four years and go to work for Ben, or decide to stay in Europe cooking. I don’t expect that. I expect to get a degree, and probably go to med school. I want to do that without picking up debt, if I possibly can."

He nodded. "You might make it. What do you want to do near-term?"

I sighed. "Talked to Bernard this morning -- depending on currency conversion, I’ve got around $280,000 offshore. He’s going to give me recommendations on banks up North, and a tax person -- he warned me about that. The gains I’ve made may stay over there."

"Good -- I was going to warn you on that as well. Andy, the guy I normally work with told me he’d have to talk to someone else on repatriating gains from foreign investments, but he knew there was a right and a wrong way to do it."

"Yup. From what Bernard explained, as long as I leave the gains sitting offshore, I’m okay. I know, or I think I know, that I’ll be back in France year after next, probably going over for fourteen or fifteen months. I’ll be covered for that period."

"That gets back to what you want to do now," Carl said.

"I figure I transfer the rest of the prize money to whatever account I set up. Is dad’s insurance money in tax-free munis?"

"Short-term CDs for now. You want to transfer that as well? At this point, I’m willing to give you control."

"And I’m not sure I want that control -- not yet. I need to work with a planner, especially on the tax aspects of things. Bernard’s got me scared."

Carl nodded. "I’m glad to hear that. Give me a call, and I’ll set things up."

I looked at him. I could feel it. "You’re still worried." Thank you Emily; thank you Beth; thank you, Papi.

He nodded again, smiling a little. "Of course I’m worried. You’re going to be off on your own, with little supervision. You could get into a lot of trouble, very fast. The things you’re saying are all well and good, but you haven’t had to live it yet. You’re going to be tempted. You need to be very, very careful -- a moment’s inattention could literally ruin the rest of your life."

"Carl, thank you. I mean it -- I’m glad you think enough of me to warn me. That’s why I want to be on a short leash, or relatively short at least. I think the summer taught me discipline. Certainly the years before taught me how to make do without a lot of frills. What would help to keep me on track? Regular reports to you, Beth, both of you?"

He smiled. "I think that would do Beth a world of good. Do you have the discipline to follow through on a regular basis?"

"Is that a challenge, counsel?"

He smiled. "Not to me."

I took out my folder and made a note. "Every two weeks, e-mail to Beth, financials."

His look changed, became more serious.

"Want to tell me about it?" I asked him. I still felt something, some worry.

With a half-smile, he asked, "How do you think she’s doing?"

I sighed. "Beth? Carl, I don’t know. That guy -- Roger -- I don’t know. She says she loves him, and he says he loves her, but I don’t think he’s seen, let alone resolved, the conflict between how he feels for her and his medical practice. I’ve seen her when his pager goes off -- it hurts her, and that hurts me. It’s something she needs to work through, they need to work through. I told her I’ll help however I can. What else can we do?"

He nodded. "You talked to him once."

I shrugged. "He did most of the talking."

He sighed and smiled. "Any guesses?"

"No. Carl, she seems so happy at times. It’s something they need to work through. I don’t feel I can help until and unless I’m asked. She’s talking to Emily. We’ll see. Karen and I were quite happy for a while. Rachel and I parted with tears, hugs, and ‘I love you.’ We’ll see what tomorrow brings."

He nodded. I stood up. We shook hands.

"Carl, thank you for caring."

"Be careful, Andy."

I headed out to the car. Not even ten in the morning -- what now? I went back to the house and looked at translations. I had Professor Zehnder’s stuff to do, might as well get started.

I called Hanna around eleven.

"Would you like fish tacos for lunch?" I asked her.

"That sounds great! When will I see you?"

"About half an hour, okay?"

I picked her up, and we went down to Newport for lunch. She had most of her packing done, and had cut back quite a bit on what she’d planned on taking. I didn’t like the way she was measuring the inside of the car with her eyes, though.

We were walking along the beach, north of Newport.

"Hanna, could we hold hands?" I asked.

She stopped and turned to me, smiling slightly. She held out her hand. I took it in mine, and we walked along.

I missed hugs. I missed being held. I missed snuggling with someone at night, and especially in the morning. I didn’t understand my dad, how he held himself apart and away, not touching. Yet I did understand some of it -- he needed it so much he was afraid of it, and he punished himself. And in the dynamics of the family, we adopted his problems, and supported them. I recalled what I’d read of Klein, and Scharff, talking about the tight feedback system such a grouping established, supporting and strengthening the shared pathology.

Hanna asked about dinner. I broke into laughter.

"What’s so funny?" she asked.

"Me. Do you like spicy food? How about a lamb curry?"

"Oh, that sounds great! We all love spicy food."

"Good. Let’s get going. We need to do some shopping."

I think I slipped into French while at the green grocers. Hanna dove in with me. She laughed at the banter I had with one gal, the ‘not fit for swine’ routine I’d picked up. We stopped and got some good-looking lamb.

Working in the kitchen felt so good. It was as Jeanne had explained it -- in the moment; I was fully in the moment. Browning the lamb, realizing that, my eyes filled with tears. Cooking, running, yoga -- being with Rachel -- parts of the summer had been so intense, yet so in-the-moment.

I started laughing again. I wiped my eyes and stirred the lamb in the pan.

"Are you okay Andy?" Hanna asked.

I turned and looked at her. Oh, how I wanted to grab her, hug her, and kiss her. No -- how much I wanted to be hugged and kissed, and held -- especially held.

"Thanks, yes. The summer was intense. We’re headed into a new world on Thursday morning."

She nodded. "Don’t I know it."

"Scary?"

She nodded again. "A little. You’ve had college classes at least, and lived away from home. Are you scared?"

I nodded. "Oh yeah, but I’m looking forward to it -- one day at a time."

She sighed. "I don’t know if I’m ready for this."

I shrugged. "Do any of us? Only one way to find out. I’ll help if I can, you know that."

She walked over and put a hand on my back. I sighed at her touch.

"Thanks, Andy. That helps."

"Thank you, Hanna."

We were doing the salad when my cell phone rang.

"Hi there," I said.

"Hi, Andy." It was Beth. She sighed and continued. "Hope I didn’t interrupt anything."

"No, how are you doing?"

"We’ll be glad to join you tomorrow for dinner. I made Roger promise to behave. Where are we going?"

I smiled. I gave her directions. We settled on six thirty.

Gail arrived home about four thirty, slamming the front door, screaming in anguish, and stomping upstairs. Hanna and I exchanged glances.

We sat down with big glasses of ice water a few minutes later. Cook the pasta, and that was it -- everything else was on track. We talked about dinner for tomorrow.

Gail came in, looking quite cross still. She smiled a little as she checked out dinner.

"Gail, would you like to sit with us and talk about tomorrow’s dinner?" I asked. Meet me halfway -- it worked before.

I worked carefully at drawing her out, drawing her into the discussion and planning. Gradually she smiled, and even seemed to relax a few notches.

Once she opened up, she started venting from her day. Hanna started to say something, but I squeezed her hand, and she went quiet. I focused on Gail, listening, accepting. It’s amazing how well that works -- in a few minutes, Gail was done venting, smiled, got up, and went into the kitchen. Hanna gave me a curious look, and I smiled.

We spent time with boxes and suitcases, managing to toss out a few more clothes.

At one point Hanna said, "Oh, I should get the hanging things, shouldn’t I?" I looked up at the ceiling, and Gail laughed.

Celeste got home a little late, looking somewhat harried, but was happy to see the folder I’d brought for her. Dinner was good. We talked about Wednesday’s dinner, packing, and driving. I’d show up mid-day with most of my things in the car. We’d load up most of Hanna’s stuff. Thursday morning when I got up, I’d add my carryon bag. We’d load Hanna’s bike, her last stuff, and get on the road.

"Andy?"

I broke out of my reverie, and turned to Celeste, standing a few feet away. Both girls must have been in the house. "Yes?"

She walked closer.

"I did chat with Mr. Carmichael today. He speaks quite highly of you," she told me.

I nodded. "Ben is like a father to me."

"Andy, this is a big help to me. I know you’ll be careful, but I’m still going to tell you -- please be very careful."

"I will. This is a big step for all of us."

"I’m worried about her," Celeste said softly.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting.

She continued. "This is a really big step for her -- at least you’ve been taking junior college classes. She doesn’t have that experience."

"It’s a big step, but I think she has the determination, and the self-control to do it. I hope I do," I said honestly.

She laughed. "Oh, somehow I think you do. Mrs. Carmichael certainly thinks so."

She’d talked to Emily as well? Must have caught Ben at home, then.

"You know, you could spend the night here tomorrow, in the guest room, and leave from here Thursday morning -- that would save you some time."

I sighed. Somehow I didn’t feel safe under the same roof with Gail.

"Let me think about it," I told her, "But I think I’d like to spend one last night at home."

She nodded. "I understand."

"And speaking of home, I should get going."

"Drive safely, Andy. See you tomorrow."

"Thank you for everything. I’ll see you tomorrow evening."

I got in the car and headed home. At least it was home for another 24 hours.

I didn’t set the alarm, and wasn’t awakened by phone calls. Still, I was up before seven, exercising, showering, getting a bite to eat.

It was hard, looking around the place, packing things up. Would I ever return? A chrysalis? Is that what this place had been? Does the process of birth/rebirth have to be traumatic? Or is it just eventful, something we interpret as trauma?

I loaded my stuff, save for one suitcase, into the car. I had plenty of room left, but would it be enough? I had a net and some straps to put things on top of the car. I put on the bike rack, and my bike.

I’d set up a freebie e-mail account, path_w_heart@hotmail.com, right after graduation. Now I was glad I had it -- I sent off another batch of e-mails, letting people know to use that address for a while.

I did some grocery shopping on the way to Hanna’s place. She was in a semi-tizzy when I arrived, worried about things. We got dinner underway, and when we had time for a break, I pulled her over to the sofa, holding her hands.

"Hanna, relax. We’re going to make it just fine."

She sighed and shook her head. "But how?"

I breathed slowly, evenly -- as much to relax me as to help her. "We’re going on a roller-coaster ride. We’re just starting up the first hill. It’s time to relax and go with it. Okay?"

She chuckled and nodded her head. "Let’s see how big your car really is."

Half an hour later, I figured that we just might make it. The suitcases were on top, three of them. Both bikes were on the rack.

"We’ll make it. The room behind the seats we’ll save for our overnight bags, right?"

Hanna actually laughed. "Yes, I promise. I think we’re going to make it."

She looked at me for a moment, stepping closer. "Andy? ..."

"Yes?" I responded after a bit.

She stood silently, finally took a breath and moved her head. "Let’s check dinner."

I nodded and we went back in the house. Maybe it will come back later.

Everything was coming together well. We set the table, checked, and rechecked.

I laughed and put my arms around her, and took her back to the couch.

"This is the hardest part," I told her. "Waiting."

She smiled. We hugged briefly and sat back, just sitting next to each other on the couch.

Gail got home a little early, checked out dinner, and sped upstairs.

A while later, while Hanna was working on salads, Gail poked her head downstairs.

"Hanna, I want to move the little bookcase from your room. Is that okay?"

Hanna didn’t even look up. "Sure -- I told you last night it was okay."

"Andy, could you help me move it, please?"

I looked to Hanna. She nodded. "I’ll finish these. I know about presentation -- trust me!"

I put a hand on her back. "Okay, be back down in a while."

I headed upstairs. Gail met me in the hall, and led me to Hanna’s room. She pointed to a bookcase, the empty one, and said, "That’s the one."

It was about four feet high, three wide, and a foot deep, painted white. It was heavier than it looked.

"Okay, lead on," I told her.

Hanna’s room had been very clean, consistent with her getting ready to leave for school. Gail’s room, on the other hand, was chaos.

"Over there under the window," she told me. The space was more or less open on the floor -- I only had to push a sweatshirt and some other clothes out of the way to put the case down on the floor. I centered it under the window.

"How’s tha..." I started to say.

But I was interrupted by a vixen grabbing me and pulling me to her bed. I tried to twist on top, but she continued turning us, and ended up on top of me, with me up against stuffed animals and the wall. She was hot, firm, and eager.

We rolled around for a bit. I started running my hands over her, partly to distract her, but hey -- she was hot. I managed to work my way on top of her, and after another kiss, pushed my way up onto my arms.

"Hi there," I said, "That where you want the bookcase?"

She growled, "I know where I want you..."

"It’s not going to happen tonight, Gail," I told her.

She rocked her hips under me. I was hard, and she knew it. "You sure?" she said with a smile.

I smiled, leaned down, and kissed her once more. Ah, I was lucky -- she didn’t know my weakness. We kissed, and I rocked on her until she started to relax. Then I was extremely unfair and sat up quickly. I put a hand on her stomach, sliding it under her top, and stroked her skin. She put a hand in my lap, reaching for the bulge in my pants. I intercepted that hand with my free hand and held hers on my thigh. She made do by running fingernails on my leg.

"Gail, this isn’t fair to either of us," I told her as I stroked her belly.

She moaned and writhed on the bed. "I need you," she whispered, rocking her head back a little, exposing her neck.

I sighed. I could get her off so easily. I could probably have her in trance in two or three minutes, crashing through orgasm another few minutes after that.

"No, Gail, not me. You don’t need me. A fresh set of batteries for a nighttime companion, and think about me, or someone else. This isn’t fair for either of us, or Hanna, or your mom. Can we declare a truce for this evening?"

She pouted, sticking out her lower lip, and holding her hand over mine on her belly, trying to push it lower. "Please," she whispered.

"Not tonight, Gail. I’m afraid you’re on your own for that. I’m going back downstairs, okay?"

She sighed and pouted a little more.

"I can wait, sweetie. Can you?" I told her. I pushed my hand down into her shorts, slipping a finger down past some deliciously soft fur, to a place moist and hot. She moaned and closed her eyes.

I flipped up her top as I pulled my hand free, leaned down, and kissed her stomach. She put a hand on the back of my head and held me. God, that was close. I kissed her again and sat up.

"Truce?" I asked.

She smiled and sat up. "Okay -- one last kiss?"

I held her and we kissed again. What she lacked in technique she made up with enthusiasm and lust.

"Okay, back downstairs, and behave?" I asked.

She chuckled. "I will -- how about you?" She ran a hand over my bulge.

"I may be a minute coming downstairs," I admitted.

"I could help..." she said with the flick of a finger, "It wouldn’t take long."

I laughed. She was probably correct. I took her hand and kissed it. "Not tonight, thank you -- but you are very tempting."

She sighed, stood up, and arranged her top. "Not tempting enough, I guess." She pulled me to her chest and held my head to her. I was about halfway there when she stepped away and to the door to her room, opening it and stepping into the hall.

She looked back to me, sitting on the bed. "Truce," she said, and walked away, wiggling her hips.

With a sigh, I stood up. My "alter ego" deflated. I looked around the room. So many things -- I wish I had my camera. I’d love to take pictures and discuss them with Madame Dumay. With a sigh, I headed to the hall and down the stairs.

I put a hand on Hanna’s back as I stepped up to her in the kitchen.

"Got it moved?" she asked.

"Yeah, no problem," I said, rubbing her back between her shoulders lightly.

"Mmm... I like that," she said. She looked up to me and smiled. "Like to inspect the salads, sir?"

"I trust you, and your judgment. Where’d Gail go?"

"Oh, she headed into the garage for something. Batteries, I think."

I suppressed a chortle.

Gail ran upstairs. We had the table set. Things were under control, again, for a moment at least.

"Music?" I asked. I wasn’t sure what I’d heard from upstairs, but I had a good idea.

Hanna went over to the stereo cabinet and put on a CD. We sat down and talked, holding hands.

Gail came downstairs a while later, with a big smile on her face. Hanna gave her a surprised look. Gail smiled, and when Hanna wasn’t looking, she gave me a look of pure lust.

I could imagine what her room smelled like. I sighed and put a hand on Hanna’s neck.

Celeste came home, checked in on dinner, then headed upstairs to change. Beth and Roger arrived soon after.

Roger had a bag under his arm. He handed the bag to me. "From Ben."

I looked inside -- two foil-covered tops -- champagne bottles. I looked to Roger, then to Beth.

"Thanks for being here tonight," I told them.

"Roger promised to be good," Beth said. She said it playfully, without an edge in her voice. I interpreted that observation as signifying an improvement in their relationship.

Everyone had met at the zoo Saturday night. Roger was going on about my mad chef routine when Celeste came downstairs. With hugs all around, we moved into the kitchen.

"Andy, would you open the champagne?" Beth asked.

I nodded. "I can only have a little -- I have to drive, after all."

Beth was standing next to Roger, an arm around his waist.

"If I could make a suggestion," she said, looking at Roger, then to me. I nodded, and she continued.

"We dropped my car off at the townhouse. I thought I’d drive your car back, and pick up mine. That way you can enjoy the occasion."

"A superb idea," I said, opening the first bottle as Celeste got out champagne flutes.

"To Stanford," we toasted.

The group inspected the car.

"Wow," Beth said, "Glad we got you a laptop. You wouldn’t have room for anything larger." Everyone but Hanna laughed. I thought about mentioning having to wedge my French keyboard into place, but thought better of it.

We had a very good dinner. The champagne was good, and Ben had sent along two bottles of a light red. Beth said she thought I’d fix something mildly spicy. She gave me a knowing smile, and I nodded. Hanna gave me an inquisitive look.

Celeste had taken her new folder to a meeting at work, and it had caused the stir she’d expected. I told her I could get more. I mentioned that Bernard was sending me recommendations for banking and tax services.

We talked about our schedules. We’d take care of move-in Thursday afternoon and evening. Friday would be book buying, phones, whatever.

Hanna was apprehensive about classes starting. I told her to keep up on a day-to-day basis. Beth asked me pointedly if that’s what I was going to do. I raised my wineglass and said, "I certainly plan to."

Roger was very good, almost relaxed. He glanced at his watch occasionally, but only when Beth wasn’t paying attention. So, I thought, things are still in flux between them.

We finished up dessert, and I started to clear the table. Beth stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. "Not tonight, Andy -- it’s time to get you home. You have a long day tomorrow."

"As do you, Hanna," Celeste said, "Gail and I will clean up."

To my surprise, Roger said, "I’ll help. Thanks for inviting us, Andy. Drive safely, and study hard."

He shook my hand, and I gave him a hug. "Take good care of her," I whispered to him as we were close.

I got to ride in the passenger seat of the wagon. I hadn’t been in that seat very often.

"I thought Roger behaved very well tonight," I said to Beth as we drove off.

She sighed. "I made him leave his cell phone and pager in his car. His partners were supposed to be covering for him."

"So, things are improving?"

She sighed again and put a hand on my shoulder. "We had a long talk. I talked, and he listened."

"You can be very persuasive," I said.

She nodded, a tight smile. "I’ve been thinking of that. I don’t know what he’d do."

Oops -- I hadn’t meant it that way. "Beth, I didn’t mean that."

She moved her hand on the back of my neck. "It’s okay, Andy. Now I understand more about what you went through with Karen. It’s a temptation, but it wouldn’t work. Some times I think it’s a pity, though. I could help him so much through hypnosis."

I put a hand on her thigh. "I know. But I think you do already. I’ve seen him unwinding, looking more relaxed. I hope he appreciates being held as much as I do."

"He’s learning, Andy. But he’s got a lot of baggage to lose still."

"Let me know how I can help," I told her again, patting her thigh, trying to be comforting and non-sexual.

"Oh, you have. Tonight was a big help. It forced me, us, to address a number of things."

"The only way out is through," I said softly.

"I know -- and it’s seldom the easiest, smoothest path," she answered.

We pulled up to the townhouse, pulling the wagon into the garage.

"My chrysalis," I said.

"For both of us, Andy," she answered.

"Should I leave the key in the basket?" I asked when we were inside.

"No, hang on to it," she told me.

I was wondering what to say next, when she held me.

"Go get ready for bed. I’m tucking you in."

"You don’t have to," I told her.

She held me closer, rocked me. "Oh yes, I do. Go get ready for bed."

She followed me into the bedroom. I made sure the alarm was set for four fifteen.

I did my routine in the bathroom, and stepped back into the bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of the bed. She’d taken off her top and bra.

"Get in bed, Andy."

I got into bed. She moved next to me, leaning down.

"Oh, Beth..." I whispered as she approached.

She took me into her warmth, holding me to her once more. I took her nipple, and she cradled my head. She started whispering, and I drifted off.

She held me, cradled me, and comforted me. At times I think we both cried.

My eyes were open. I could barely see her in the darkness of the room. I was on my back. She cradled my head with one hand, and touched my chest with the other. Tears filled my eyes again -- I wanted to let go to her so much. She started speaking, I looked into her eyes, and she held my head, stroked my chest, and sent me so deep, comforted by her touch.

She held me to a nipple again. I went to sleep in her arms.

I woke to the alarm going off. I silenced it, and cried for a while. I got up, showered, dressed, and packed the last of my things. I loaded them into the car.

"I love you, Beth," I said as I closed the door behind me.

I made it to Hanna’s by five, stopping to fill up on gas. Everyone was up when I got there, sitting around the kitchen table.

"Coffee, Andy?" Celeste asked as I stepped into the kitchen.

I shook my head. "No thanks -- I limit my fluid intake on long drives."

She smiled and nodded. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

"About ready?" I asked Hanna, putting a hand on her back and rubbing lightly.

"Almost," she said, finishing her toast.

I moved over to Gail. She was eating a bowl of cold cereal. "Going to miss your sister?" I asked, rubbing her back.

She arched her back like a cat, moving closer to my hand. "I’ll miss her," she said with a sigh. Celeste chuckled.

We put the last of Hanna’s things in the car. She had a few CDs to listen to on the drive.

"Mom says go to the bathroom, both of you!" Celeste called out to us.

"Thanks, mom," I said as we headed back into the house. Hanna went into the downstairs bath.

"I’ll go upstairs," I said, and headed up.

I went into the bathroom, turning on the light. As I was closing the door, Gail slipped in, closed the door, and slipped into my arms. I kissed her and ran my hands over her body. Her nipples were tight.

I pushed away a little. She held on.

"We need to get going," I told her.

She sighed and let go of me. We kissed once more, and she left the bathroom.

I sighed. It took me a while before I could pee.

When I left the bathroom, Gail’s bedroom door was half closed. I paused and heard suspicious sounds. When I stuck my head in the door, I saw her on her back in bed. Her knees were up and wide under the covers, her head back, and both arms looked to be down toward her middle. She looked over to me with surprise and lust, moaning.

I stepped toward her. I could hear a buzzing from under the covers. As I approached, her breath quickened.

I put one hand behind her head, and pressed the other between her legs on top of the covers. I looked into her eyes.

"Come for me, Gail. Come for me, please darling," I whispered, squeezing the back of her neck.

She shuddered and her eyes lost focus for a bit. I leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Now go back to sleep for me. Sweet dreams."

I stepped out of the room, closing the door behind me.

I walked outside into the cool pre-dawn. I was ready for a new adventure.

"She’s in the car, as ready as she’ll be," Celeste told me.

I turned to her. "Thank you so much for the help, the hospitality."

"You’re quite welcome, Andy. This is a big help. How’s Gail?" She motioned upwards with her eyebrows.

I smiled. "She needed to be tucked in," I admitted.

Celeste looked over to the car, then back to me. She put her arms out and pulled me closer. "Is that all?" she whispered.

She gave me a very sensuous kiss. "Take good care of my baby girl," she whispered in my ear, giving me a parting squeeze.

I sighed again -- a good morning for sighs. "I will. We’ll call when we get to school."

She walked me to the car, and gave me another hug before I got in. It wasn’t a motherly hug. She went around the other side, leaned in the open window, and gave Hanna a kiss.

"Have a safe drive," she told us.

"We will, mom," Hanna said. "We’ll call when we get in."

With a wave, we were on our way. I let out another sigh when we got on the San Diego Freeway headed north.

My hand was resting on the shift lever. Hanna put hers on top of mine.

"It’s okay, sweetie," I told her, "We’re on our way. You can relax."

"I wish -- I hardly slept at all last night, I’m so wound up."

I smiled. Thank you, Beth -- I slept very well. "If you’d like, you can lean the seat back and I can help you relax."

In response I heard the motors on the passenger seat going as she reclined the seat.

"Close your eyes and relax. Take a deep, slow breath, and when you do, let go of the tension. Good -- once more -- slow breath in, let the tension out."

I did a progressive relaxation sequence, followed by a deepener, never saying "trance," only "deeper and deeper, more and more relaxed."

I thought about a grassy area of the campus. I took her there, describing it in as much detail as I could remember, relaxing her there. Then I told her she was there on campus, at the end of her first year, and she’d done so well. There had been nervous times, and hard times, and sad times, and happy times, but she’d worked hard, and done well. She knew she could do it. She had a lot of people to call on for help.

We were coming to the bumpy section of the carpool lanes near the L.A. airport. I took her to a hanging chair, one that moved around a bit, but the motion only helped her relax and go even deeper, drifting off to sleep.

I looked at her as we approached the Santa Monica freeway. She looked very peaceful and relaxed.

We passed through Santa Barbara about two hours later.

"There’s a rest stop just ahead, sweetie," I said. "I’d like to stop. How about you?"

She stretched in her seat, breathing deeply. I looked over to her, and she smiled at me as she moved the seat up again. "That’s a good idea. Wow! Where are we? How long did I sleep?"

"You slept about two hours, and we’re just north of Santa Barbara, starting to head inland. You must have been tired."

"Yeah, and now I feel great!"

I nodded and pointed to the sign. "Three miles to a potty break."

We both got out, did our business, and had a stretch. As I watched her move, I felt that hunger inside. I flashed back -- I wanted to be on my back again, head cradled, that soft, comforting hand on my chest... That had been very nice.

We got back in the car and started off again, heading inland through the pass. We listened to music and talked about school.

"Did mom invite you to stay over?" she asked at one point.

"Yeah -- I decided to stay one last night at home."

She chuckled. "You were probably safer. I’m surprised Gail didn’t jump you."

"Oh she did, a couple of times."

"What?"

"She’s a very persistent girl."

"I’ll say! She grabbed you? In the house?"

I nodded. "She jumped me the first afternoon I was over -- when you went to take a phone call."

"And?"

"I managed to get away."

"Good for you. What did you tell her?"

"I told her not there, not now, and asked her to behave."

Hanna laughed. "I noticed you taking a parental tone with her -- I’ve done that over the last two days, and it works really well."

I laughed. I don’t know who would have been more of a problem -- Gail or her mom. I shook my head -- that was assuming a whole lot.

"Your mom has her hands full," I managed to say.

"Oh does she... You have a girlfriend? Where is she?"

"At Cornell -- upstate New York. We lived together in France during the summer."

I stole a glance at her. She raised an eyebrow.

"You lived together?" she asked.

"Yes. Lived, worked, slept, ran, you name it -- I love her, and I miss her a lot."

We both sighed, then chuckled.

"Hanna, please excuse me -- after that closeness, I really have to pay attention to how I behave. I’ve gotten so used to hugs, to touching. I miss that so much; I miss her so much. I’ll miss hugs more than I’ll miss wine with meals."

She put a hand on my shoulder. "That’s okay, Andy. I think I understand, a little, anyway. Thank you for being considerate. I need hugs too."

Our conversation died out for a while. She kept her hand on my shoulder, occasionally running fingers along the back of my neck.

We stopped for an early lunch just north of San Luis Obispo. As we were going to get back in the car, Hanna stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. I turned to her. She closed her eyes and pulled me closer. We hugged and kissed. I held her after we kissed, rocking slightly as I love to do.

Traffic didn’t thicken until just north of Gilroy. We made it to the campus in good time.

We drove around, and thanks to the marked-up campus map I had, we found the dorm. We spotted signs for parking and check-in. As someone drove out, I took their parking spot next to one of the doors.

Hanna started to get out. I held her arm. "Wait a minute."

She turned and looked at me.

I smiled. "Take off your socks."

"What?" She gave me a crazy look.

I smiled and nodded, and slid my seat back (a little, it hit the stuff in the back), and started taking off my socks. "Please. I’ll explain."

I took off my socks, and put my shoes back on. She did the same.

I held my socks in one hand, and took her hand.

"These socks are the past. All the problems I had, my past, everything is in these socks. I’m leaving them behind, and starting fresh."

I looked in her eyes. She smiled and nodded.

"All the things I want to change -- I’m going to change, starting now. All my bad habits, I’m leaving here."

She nodded. "All my weaknesses..."

I smiled. "No, I’m taking my weaknesses with me -- for they will grow into areas of strength."

She smiled and nodded. She took a deep breath. I opened my door, and she opened hers.

We stepped into a new world.

END of Growing Up With Beth
Rev 2/04/2002

This is the END of Growing Up With Beth.

Why? There are so many loose ends, so much more to explore!

Yes, there are. And the exploration may resume, after a while, in a new form.

Are you upset that it ends here? Why? Haven’t you enjoyed the journey, the exploration, the growth? This phase of the journey is complete. It’s time to let it go, and move on.

I’d like to thank all of you who have sent in comments, corrections, and suggestions. I’d like to thank Wiseguy for his advice and counsel. So many people have helped me explore.

artie, 27 February 2001.

Great!	Okay
Kinda weird	Not sure yet.	Not for me.