That Special Summer

Another time, we were out on a hike, on a fairly warm afternoon, when she pulled me off the trail into some woods, pulled my cock out and gave me a blowjob right there in the open. Maggie had a wild and vivid sexual imagination, and she imparted much of it to me.

More than that, though, I watched her blossom as a person. No longer was she a quiet, lonely homebody, content to hide behind her grief. She joined the choir at her church, and even sang a solo, staring at me with loving eyes through the whole performance.

And me? Well, the hard physical work quickly added considerable muscle to my chest, arms and legs, and the incredible sex, love and support I got from Maggie sent my self-esteem through the roof. Maggie encouraged me to go for what I wanted in life, not what my father wanted.

It seemed like the summer went by in a blur, and suddenly it was the first of August, and almost time for me to leave.

I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay in Colorado and live with Maggie. I mean, I was in love. I was talking about establishing residency there and going to CU. However, the next to last night I was there, after my last day of work, we went out to dinner, and she gently, but firmly told me that I had to go back.

"Robert, you're life is there, not here," she said, referring to me by my given name, which I felt represented my new life. "I love you with all my heart, but we can't have a permanent relationship. Maybe if I were 10 years younger, or you were 10 years older, it could possibly work out. But you've got your whole life ahead of you, and the better part of mine is behind me."

"But, Maggie, I love you," I said, as my tears began to fall. "I want to be with you."

"Sweetheart, I know how you feel," she said gently, tears also welling in her eyes. "What you have given me this summer is the most precious gift a person can give another. You've given me hope. You've shown me that I can live again, that I can love again, and we'll always have that. But you have a family and a life in Texas. You have a future that is undreamed of. Go find it! Follow your heart, follow it wherever it leads you. Your heart will never let you down."

We spent the entire next day in bed, trying to store up the memories, I guess. I think we fucked every way a man and a woman can fuck, until we finally fell asleep in sheer exhaustion. The next morning, I packed in silence. I knew she was right. It didn't make me feel any better, but I knew in my heart that what she'd said was right. My life was in Texas, or somewhere else, and I knew as beautiful as our love was, it was not something that had a long future.

I kind of piddled around about getting my things together, getting them in my truck and getting away that morning, until finally Maggie had to insist that I get on the road.

"Go, please, before I completely lose it," she said.

And, after a final hug and deep soul kiss, I got in my truck and headed back to Texas. I turned to take one last look before I turned off her street, and saw Maggie bury her face in her hands and rush back into her house. I cried, too, and I mean I bawled like a baby for a half-hour as I drove down that highway, before I finally sighed, dried my eyes and set my course for the future.

When I got back, I broke the news to my family that I wasn't going to Texas Tech, but I was going to enroll at the nearby junior college for a year, while I sent out applications to some four-year colleges. My dad was livid, and tried to bully me into submission, but I just serenely tuned him out.

My brothers also tried to coerce me into knuckling under. Sam made the mistake of calling me Runt, which had been his derogatory nickname for me. I told him in no uncertain terms not to call me that again. When he repeated it, I pounced on him, backed him against the wall, with my iron hand on his throat, and informed him that Robbie the Runt was dead. It was Robert now, and he'd better get used to it, because I wasn't going to be his or anyone else's patsy again.

My mother and my sister both backed me up, and my dad was forced to back down. It played out just like I wanted. After a year of junior college, I went to Austin, to The University of Texas, where I got involved in a variety of activities. I graduated with highest honors, and earned a Rhodes Scholarship to study at Oxford. I spent two glorious years in England and traveled all over Europe. I came back and got my doctorate at the University of Tennessee, where I'd fallen in love with another set of mountains, the Smokies. There I met my wife, and we live in that area to this day.

And Maggie? We stayed in touch, and I even went to see her for a week before my senior year of college. Yes, we did make love, quite a lot, and it was so joyful. But what was really the best part was how she'd changed. Oh, she still had the long red hair, now streaked with gray, but she'd lost some weight and looked great. And her little cottage was completely different. Outside, Maggie had planted flower beds, with bright blooms everywhere. And where before the house had been a rather somber place, painted a dark blue on the outside, with pastels inside, now the outside was a bright yellow and the inside walls were also done in bright, floral wallpaper.

Maggie told me a fascinating story of how that came about. She'd met a man from her church who did that kind of work, a retired gentleman in his early 60s, and he'd done the whole house. And he'd done her, as well. They'd spent the whole four months having sex while he papered her house.

"I couldn't help but think of you, how the roles were reversed," she laughed. "Now I was the young one, having a ball with an older partner."

And he wasn't the only lover she'd had, or would have. But she never remarried, I guess, in respect to Russ, whom she had truly loved.

Later, Maggie came to my wedding, and to my father's funeral. She was a pillar of strength both for me and my mother, and they became friends. I suspect my mom knows a little bit of what went on that summer, especially when she saw us dancing at my wedding reception. But she's never said anything, and probably never will.

Maggie and I still write back and forth, about three or four times a year, I've taken my family out to see her, and she's been to visit me. She's still one of my very best friends. And why not? She changed my life, and made me a man, all during that one special summer.