My Seven Sins
Chapter 6: Sloth
(MF, rom, cheat, preg)

	The next morning I awoke all too early to my mobile phone 
ringing. As I fumbled to answer it, I realized it was seven in the 
morning. Though I was tempted to curse at the voice on the 
other end of the line, I successfully held my temper long enough 
to hear that it was Melissa. Apparently, she was already in the 
office and wanted to make sure that I had gotten back to the club 
okay. Still happy with how the previous night had gone, I decided 
it would be okay to chitchat for a while. We ended up discussing 
the next leg of my trip, and she gave me some suggestions of 
places I could overnight when I got too tired to drive. The call 
ended with my lover turned antagonist and now turned friend 
reminding me that I could call her anytime.

	I was grateful, not just because of her offer for friendship, 
but because I probably needed the wakeup call. I quickly 
showered and packed my suitcase.  Then after a hearty 
breakfast, I set off on the road. Once again, I would be traveling 
on roads that I had never been on before. When I had left 
Denver, I had convinced my landlord to supervise movers who 
would come the next week, so that I could leave immediately. 
Since I had some money saved up, I decided that I would leave a 
few days after Christmas and spend New Year's in Las Vegas. 
From there I had continued through California reaching my new 
home in Silicon Valley from the south. 

	On this trip, there would be no such stops. Instead, I headed 
north out of Denver. In Wyoming I turned west and headed 
through the Rocky Mountains. I was tempted to stop in Salt Lake 
City for the night, but decided to press on. I spent the night in a 
small town in the middle of Nevada. The hotel was not what I was 
accustomed to, but sufficed as a place to spend the night. As 
promised, I called Melissa before I settled in for the night.

	The next morning, the high from my time with Melissa had 
disappeared and the realization of the question that surrounded 
the next visit almost paralyzed me. In general, until I had met 
my wife, my adult life was not a model of stability. Even for the 
best students, college is never really stable because one is just 
becoming an adult and trying to figure out what they should do 
with their life. After that, I ended up in three cities in less than 
two years, having a promising career nearly derailed by bad 
choices with women. I was very lucky that Dave McDade, who 
had briefly been my boss in Denver, was for some reason willing 
to give me another chance.

	There was one time in those years, though, where my life 
was not as unstable as it had been at other points. That was the 
two and a half years I spent with Summer Davies. I do not know 
if I had really loved her, but I had become complacent. I was 
worn out by the whirlwind of the previous two years, and I was 
ready for a calmer life. I would not exactly say that I was ready 
to settle down. I really had just wanted something that I felt I 
could hold on to.

	As I drove through the next day, negative emotions engulfed 
me. Driving through the deserts and ranges of northern Nevada, 
the monotony of the road brought about a troubling depression-
a feeling that life had been a waste. Cognitively, I knew that that 
was not true. I had had over a decade of great years with my 
wife, and though we did not have children, we had left some kind 
of legacy. But as I approached Reno, I wondered if there was any 
future.

	My feelings again changed when I passed from Nevada into 
California, where the still snow-capped Sierra Nevada Mountains 
that stood like giant judges warning me of a sentence that would 
destroy me, filled me with a sense of dread. As I continued, I felt 
as if I should pull to the side of the interstate and wander off into 
the mountains allowing the judges to confirm my human frailty as 
I disappeared from life. Eventually, I broke down in tears as I 
drove.

	Though I felt a sense of relief when I descended into the 
Central Valley of California, I also began to feel cut off from the 
rest of my life. In a way, it was a return to the brief period of my 
life that I had started 16 years before. For almost 4 years I had 
lived a peaceful life-so different from anything I had had before. 
Then, for reasons I still did not understand, I was driven from 
that life. Today, I was not sure if the isolation from everything 
else was good or bad. It just gave me a different mindset.

	Eventually, as I drove south along the western shore of San 
Francisco Bay, a feeling of acceptance came over me. I might 
finally learn why I had come home one day to find Summer 
Davies had gone, leaving only a note telling me not to try to track 
her down. It had happened, and in the long run, I had probably 
been better off for it. If I had lived out my complacency, I may 
never have met my wife.

	Finally, when I pulled into the club in San Jose at which I 
would be stayin, I was emotionally exhausted. It was all I could 
do to eat dinner and send an email asking Summer when and 
where we should meet. I was asleep before any response came.

*               *               *

	Summer Davies had not been the first woman I dated after I 
moved to Silicon Valley. In fact, after having a really good time 
by myself in Las Vegas over Christmas, I decided to take some 
time and, as we would say back then, work on myself-whatever 
that meant. Rather than go out and do the normal things a 20 
something might do in their free time, I spent most of my time at 
work helping my old boss, Dave McDade, get a tech startup off 
the ground. It turned out that he had disliked Melissa Skipper so 
much, that he was already planning to leave the company. When 
he was fired, he saw it as an opportunity and move back to the 
Bay Area where he had grown up. He used his connections at 
Stanford University, where his friend was an engineering 
professor, to put together a staff of whiz-kid programmers to 
design new accounting and mathematical software. When I 
turned up jobless, he thought I might be a good right-hand-man.

	When I did finally become social again, I did not go out of 
my way to meet women. Instead, I slowly began to increase my 
circle of friends from places I went with Dave. One person that 
took a liking to me was Dave sister. It was not a romantic 
attachment, but more of a big sister caring about her little 
brother's life. Whenever she and her husband did something at 
their house, she was sure to invite me. She even set me up on a 
few dates, which ranged from disasters to somewhat fun. 
However, there was never a connection.

	In June, that changed. Dave's sister was a teacher, and was 
having a cookout to celebrate the last day of school. In the 
typical 90s style, we were eating grilled chicken and veggie 
burgers, while sipping Napa County wine on the deck of her 
house in Los Altos Hills. I talked with a number of interesting 
people, both men and women, and was generally ignoring 
everything around me. As the sun began to set, I began to think 
it might be a good idea to head home. And then I saw her.

	Though it was a warm day, I had attended a meeting with 
one of our investors, so I was still wearing the jacket that I had 
worn to work. I was grateful that I had, because as the sun 
turned bright orange and began to fall behind the hills, the 
temperature dropped quickly. Dave's sister had convinced me to 
have one more glass of wine, so I had decided to find somebody 
to talk to. When I looked around I saw a thin blonde woman 
shivering at the side of the deck. It was strange that she had not 
left, or at least gone inside, so I decided that I would be nice and 
give her my jacket. With a smile, she accepted and asked if I 
would talk for a little while. When our hostess came over and said 
it was good we were finally talking, I realized that this was the 
latest set up.

	I almost snickered when Summer told me her name. With a 
pout, she told me that it was indeed a pun. When people heard 
her last name, Davies, immediately they though it sounded like 
'summer days'. In fact, she had sisters names Spring and Autumn 
and a brother named John Winters Davies. She explained it as a 
thing, former hippies did.

	Surprisingly, we had a lot of things in common. We were 
both two years out of college and had come to the area because 
of bad relationships. While mine was a toxic affair with my boss, 
hers was a failed relationship with a college boyfriend. They had 
both gone to the University of California at Berkeley, and met 
their freshman year. They had been the couple that everybody 
thought would marry right after school, but the guy decided that 
he wanted to stay on for a doctorate in whatever he was 
studying. Though Summer was willing to get married in support 
him, he decided that they should just live together first.

	For a year, they played house while she taught in Oakland. 
However, because of his research, he was at the University most 
of the time. Though Summer wanted their relationship to 
progress, he insisted that before they could get more serious, he 
had to finish graduate school. Eventually, she thought there 
might be something else going on. So one day, she went to 
surprise him at the lab in which he worked.

	She never actually went inside or talked with him. Instead, 
when she looked through the window, she saw him too close to 
one of the female graduate students for her taste. She did not 
know whether he was cheating or not, but knew that at the very 
least, she had lost him to his job. She did not say anything, but 
went home and packed up her clothing and a few things she 
valued most. Then after leaving a note explaining why she was 
leaving, she drove to her parents' house only a few miles away 
from where we were now. For the past year, she had been 
teaching at the same school as Dave's sister did.

	We talked until long after the sun had set and the other 
guests had left. It was obvious that there was an attraction. 
However, it was different than the one I had had with the other 
women in my adult life. Rather, it was closer to what I had felt 
with my high school girlfriend, Carly Johnson. While I found her 
attractive, I had no desire to sleep with her that night. Instead, I 
wanted to go places and do things with her, to really get to know 
her better. She seemed like someone who I could really enjoy 
spending time with. 

	And of course she was beautiful, but in a youthful sort of 
way. If the term pretty young thing could be applied to an adult, 
then it was the best way to describe Summer. Her face, with eyes 
as blue is a clear summer day, looked more like that of a college 
student, and not an upperclassman at that. In fact, the way it 
was framed by her straight blonde hair made her look as young 
as a teenager depending upon the angle. It did not help that she 
was barely over 5 feet tall and had a rather flat chest. Her smile 
was probably her best feature though, as it was radiant like the 
sun on a spring morning. And when she closed her eyes and 
tossed her hair back out of her face, it made me smile so much it 
hurt.

	We started things off slowly, with trips up to San Francisco 
for baseball games. It was a sexy juxtaposition to see this 
beautiful woman turn into the biggest trash talker when she put 
the brown and orange cap on her head. Later in the summer we 
took trips up north to wine tastings and in the fall drove to 
northern California to see the leaves. Eventually, I met her 
parents, spending the holidays with her family.

	Then, on New Year's Eve, we drove south to a bed and 
breakfast near Santa Cruz. Though we never talked about it, I 
was sure that on this trip we would consummate our relationship. 
In the car, Summer cuddled a bit closer. At the front desk of the 
B&B she held tight to my arm in a way she had never done 
before. And over dinner, her eyes sparkled above the biggest 
smile she had ever shown me.

	I was not disappointed. That evening she insisted that we 
both take showers. Hers was second, and surprisingly I heard her 
drying her hair afterward. When she came out of the bathroom, 
she was wearing a pure white nighty and matching panties. 
Though she did not have obvious curves, her slender body had a 
sexual quality I had not noticed before. In the moonlight she did 
not look so childlike anymore. She looked like a twenty-
something woman presenting herself to the man she would take 
as her own. 

	Without saying a word, she came to me. Aggressively, but 
gently, she pushed me back onto the bed and started to kiss me. 
As her tongue slid between my lips, I felt both longing and relief 
in her kiss. The former was because she had gone so long 
without, the latter because she was initiating something she 
desperately wanted with a man about whom she cared deeply. 
Eventually, our kissing slowed into a sensual dance where our 
bodies snaked together as we breathed life into each other. 

	Eventually, I could not resist it anymore, and I let my hands 
slide under the nighty to fondle her breasts. They felt bigger than 
they looked, though they were still small. As my fingers gently 
pinched her nipples, she let out a small gasp and told me to keep 
doing it. As I did, she managed to wiggle the nighty over her 
head. Then she started to grind her pantie covered pelvis on my 
hard and still growing cock. Though the fabric kept me far from 
cumming, Summer eventually threw her head back and gasp in 
her first orgasm of the night. 

	Looking back down at me, she panted for a few minutes, 
trying to catch her breath. Now her smile was like that of a mad 
woman, as if the feeling the pleasure of our bodies together had 
made her drunk on lust. With a lithe roll of her hips she sunk on 
the bed next to me. Then slipping off her panties, she asked me 
to get between her legs, telling me she wanted me to come into 
her like a man should. I gladly complied.

	There was no need for any more foreplay, Summer was wet 
enough from the start. Though I probably could have rammed 
myself right inside of her, I decided to start slowly. With short 
gliding thrusts, I teased her pussy. She responded with quick 
gasps, each giving her a look of surprise, as if it had never felt so 
good before. Taking that as a challenge, I decided to gently reach 
my fingers down and stroke her clit. When I did, I noticed that 
she had only a small tuft of hair above her clit. I must have had 
my own look of surprise, because she smiled and panted that the 
women's magazines said less was more. 

	The fact that she had obviously prepared for the 
consummation of our relationship was the biggest turn on yet. It 
was clear that tonight she was a woman who wanted to please 
her man. I began to pick up speed and thrust deeper inside. 
Several times she rolled her head back and missed a breath in 
orgasm. Finally, I was pounding deep inside of her as her cum 
gushed around my cock. That set me off and I came harder than 
I had ever remembered cumming in a woman. 

	I collapsed next to Summer as we both breathed heavily. 
After catching our breath, we kissed some more, gently and 
affectionately. Then, this woman I felt like I wanted to be with 
curled her back into my chest, and said words that would 
eventually haunt me, until the day that I moved East with my 
wife. "I love you." 

	We made love again in the morning, but without the 
desperation of the night before. We must have looked a terrible 
state, but to me Summer was as beautiful as ever. We showered 
together, gently washing each other's bodies. After having the 
proprietors bring our breakfast to our room, we ate at a small 
table looking out over the Pacific Ocean wearing only terrycloth 
robes that hung loosely from our bodies. There was no need for 
modesty; no need for anything between our bodies anymore.

	During the morning, we walked around the nicer parts of 
Santa Cruz. If somewhere could be more relaxing than the Bay 
Area, this was it. Still on a high from the night before, we held 
hands held tight to each other's as we walked lightly through the 
town. We had lunch in a cozy café, smiling at each other and 
staring into each other's eyes the entire time. Hers were the 
brightest blue I could ever remember. After a whale watching 
cruise in the afternoon, we had dinner at one of the most 
expensive restaurants in town, then went home for another night 
of lovemaking. By the time we left on Sunday, it was clear our 
relationship was going to the next level.

	Within a month, we had broken the leases on our 
apartments and moved into a bigger place in Mountain View. It 
was a little bit farther for Summer to get to work, but only by a 
few minutes. I, on the other hand, could walk to the office of 
what was quickly becoming a very successful company. I would 
come home from work every day, and my girlfriend would have a 
wonderful dinner cooked for me. Afterwards, we might go to a 
hockey game, or meet friends for happy hour. Most nights, 
though, we cuddled on the couch watching our favorite movies.

	For the first few months, we made love often, usually more 
than once a day. Sometimes if we had not done it in a while, it 
was desperate and passionate, but most times it was slow and 
gentle, relaxed and playful. We were two people with a deep 
abiding affection for one another, comfortable enough to know 
that tomorrow would be another wonderful day.

	After about a year of working with Dave, he announced to 
me that he was selling the company. He was going to retire and 
start a business as a fishing guide, and offered me a more than 
generous severance package. I could not see myself not working 
at this point in my life, so even though I could have taken some 
time off, I decided to take a job as the chief programmer for a 
Dot Com that would offer online accounting for small companies. 
They had received an enormous amount of funding from an 
investment firm, and offered me more pay than Dave had. For 
the first time since my parents died, I truly felt that my life was 
on the right track.

	Our first anniversary passed, and then our second. Though I 
was satisfied, Summer seemed to grow a little restless. When I 
asked what was wrong, she asked me if our relationship would go 
any further. I know exactly what she meant. Though she was 
raised in the laid-back California lifestyle by hippies who probably 
did not care if we lived together forever, I knew her well enough 
to know that she wanted every girl's dream. She wanted to get 
married, either in a little chapel or on the beach, have kids and 
live happily ever after.

	I had never really considered marriage in my life, though I 
knew two women from my passed, Carly Johnson and Shanika 
Washington, would gladly have married me. I told Summer that 
while I was not ready yet, I would marry her, eventually. I 
explained that she was the first woman with whom I had truly felt 
a connection, but my years after college had been so traumatic 
that I needed time to adjust. She seemed to accept this, saying 
that she was willing to wait.

	The summer passed, as did fall. After both Christmas and 
New Year's, I could tell that Summer was disappointed that she 
did not get a diamond ring for either celebration. After Valentine's 
Day, she was almost furious that I had not proposed. On our 
anniversary, I got a lecture that she thought I would be ready by 
now. I told her that I was almost ready, but when I eventually 
asked her to marry me, I wanted it to be the most special 
moment of her life. I really wanted to mean it, but in reality I 
enjoyed the way things were. I did not see any need for them to 
change.

	Late in the summer, disaster struck at work. At our monthly 
board meetings, I would ask the owners what my budget was for 
the next month. Their response was always that I could spend 
whatever I needed. That began to worry me, because though we 
had developed a good product, it did not seem we had many 
people who wanted to buy it. When I would ask the sales director 
about it, he would reply that we needed small businesses to catch 
up to us, and then things would be great. He would then convince 
me not to worry, because the investors had faith in us.

	Investors, though, are interested in making money. Few 
invest out of the goodness of their hearts. So it was that at the 
end of August, everyone was ordered to a hastily called full staff 
meeting. At the meeting, the owners said that the company's 
credit had been cut off and they were bankrupt. They would not 
even be able to pay the final payroll. Before anybody could react, 
they had a private security service come in and escort everybody 
out.

	Over the next few weeks, Summer was especially good to 
me. Because of good recommendations from Dave and a 
reputation I had built over the past three years, I did not feel like 
I would have problems finding a job. And even though I told her 
that I was just going to take some time off and recuperate, she 
still fussed over me more than she ever had. That was when I 
made the decision, though I was not certain she was the one, I 
would marry Summer Davies.

	After her school had been in session for a few weeks, I took 
a day to go to San Francisco where I priced rings in the nicest 
jewelry shops. I finally settled on a 2 carat, round cut solitaire. It 
might seem a little big on the fingers of a woman so small, but I 
thought it would shine as brightly as her eyes. I even made a 
plan of how I would ask her in front of our friends and family at a 
Christmas party, that I would plan myself.

	Over the next month, I tried to play it cool. I really wanted 
Summer to be surprised when I proposed her. At the time, I 
thought it was perfect because she had stopped asking if I was 
serious about wanting to marry her. I figured that she was giving 
me some time because I was still out of work, but it turned out 
not to be the case.

	In mid-October, one of Summer's college friends was 
coming to California on vacation. Because the friend wanted to 
introduce her girlfriend to her college friends, the group had 
decided to have a reunion back in Berkeley. I was not concerned 
that significant others were not invited. Instead, I spent the 
weekend secretly writing out invitations to the party.

	When Summer came back, she seemed preoccupied. When I 
asked her what was wrong, almost crying, she asked why I had 
not proposed to her yet. She looked so pitiful, but all I could do 
was take her into my arms and tell her that I would do it very 
soon. I just wanted to make sure that it was special. She looked 
up at me, her blue eyes cloudy in a way I had never seen before, 
and asked if I was serious. When I said I was, she sadly smiled, 
then put her head into my chest and began to cry. I figured that 
she was happy that it was finally going to happen.

	We made love that night in a way we never had before. 
There was desperation and sadness in everything that Summer 
did. It almost seemed as if she was trying to make up and 
apologize for the pressure, she had put on me. But that did not 
matter to me anymore. In a couple of months, she would have 
what she wanted. As we drifted off to sleep, I heard her cry a 
little bit more.

	Just before Thanksgiving, Summer became almost 
despondent. For most of our time together, she always wanted to 
talk, asking about my day or just what I was thinking at the 
moment, but now she withdrew, rarely talking to me at all. When 
I asked her what was wrong, she would quickly say that there 
were things going on at school, and that she needed to figure 
some things out. She had given me space enough to give me 
what I needed, so I was willing to give her the space she needed 
as well.

	The second week of December my stable, comfortable 
California life disintegrated. I had gone to a hockey game, with 
Dave because for some reason Summer did not want to go. When 
I got home, our apartment was silent. I called for the woman that 
I would soon marry, but she was nowhere to be found. I did 
notice that some pictures had been taken off the wall. In a panic, 
I raced into the bedroom and looked into her closet. For the most 
part it was empty. Turning around, I noticed an envelope on the 
bed. 

	The letter inside almost destroyed me. It was short and very 
ambiguous, but the meaning was clear. It started by saying that 
she was sorry, but that she had failed as a girlfriend and knew 
that we could never be together. She wished I had proposed 
sooner, but knew it was unfair to ask me to do something I was 
not ready for. Circumstances had changed, and she had to leave. 
If I really cared about her, I would not try to find her. She wanted 
me to move on and find somebody that I could love in the way 
that I could not love her. It finished by saying, "Please, whatever 
you do, do not try to find me."

	I did not know what to do because it seemed so final. 
Almost without thinking, I called the person who I knew was a 
bridge between us, Dave's sister. Rather than talking to me on 
the phone, she asked me to come over and bring the letter. When 
I got there, she looked at it and sighed. When I asked her if it 
was as final as it sounded, she told me that it was. Though for so 
long I had put off trying to make my relationship with Summer 
permanent, at this moment, I knew that was what I really 
wanted. I started to cry.

	As I sat, I felt firm hands sympathetically massaging my 
shoulders. Then I heard Dave's voice behind me, telling me that it 
would be okay, but that I had to move on. It was almost as if he 
was commanding me like a boss, telling me I needed to quit a job 
before I got fired. Eventually, he drove me home, while I stared 
at the lights of the Valley below.

	The next day I began to feel like I was the only one left out 
of a secret. While I looked around the apartment in the morning 
trying to decide whether I should ignore what Dave and his sister 
had told me to do, I got a call on my cell phone. It was the owner 
of a company that I had done business with when I was working 
for Dave. He was almost in a panic, it was a few weeks before the 
turn-of-the-century, and their Y2K patching was way behind 
schedule. He needed a programmer who could also lead a team 
to make sure everything was finished on time. On a recent fishing 
trip with Dave, he had learned that I was still unemployed. 
Because of my skills, he was wondering if I would come up to 
Seattle, and help them out. He even promised me that I could 
have a permanent position afterward. 

	I did not have anything better to do with my life, so I called 
the guy back and told him I accepted his offer. I did not even ask 
about pay. Later that afternoon, Dave helped me pack up the few 
things I cared about and agreed to sell the rest for me. The next 
morning, I got into my aging Mustang and drove north. Besides 
bathroom breaks, my only stop was in San Francisco. There, I 
parked on the street by Candlestick Park, and after walking down 
the hill, I threw the engagement ring into the Bay.

*               *               *

	When I heard the phone ringing in the morning, it took me a 
few seconds to remember where I was. Though every city club is 
different, some things, like the guest rooms, are not that much 
different. What reminded me of where I was, was a familiar voice 
on the other end of the line asking me if I got her email. I knew 
immediately that it was the woman I had almost married. Looking 
at the clock, I realized that it was already 9 o'clock, and so 
apologized that I had not. She seemed disappointed, though in a 
playful sort of way, and told me that she would pick me up in 
about half an hour. When I asked where we were going, so I 
would know how to dress, she said that we were going to spend 
the day in San Francisco.

	Half an hour later, as I walked down the steps of the club, I 
saw an older, but still very beautiful Summer Davies standing by 
a small hybrid car. Her hair was shorter than she used to keep it, 
and her face looked a little more wrinkled than it probably should 
have been. Her chest was much bigger though, complementing 
wide hips. She was no longer the pretty young thing, but a 
beautiful mature woman. As she excitedly waved for me to come 
down, I wondered what had brought about the change, and 
whether it had anything to do with me.

	 When I got to the bottom of the stairs, Summer took my 
hands in hers. Then standing on her tippy toes, she kissed me on 
the cheek. After the requisite greetings that it had been a long 
time since we had seen each other, I decided I needed to start 
the visit by knowing exactly what it happened 13 years before. 
However, instead of telling me, she put her finger to my lips as if 
to hush me, and told me that we could talk about the past later. 
For some reason, I thought it would be best to agree.

	An hour later, we were strolling through Golden Gate Park as 
Summer told me how much the Bay Area had changed since I 
left. Just after I moved to Seattle, the Giants had moved into a 
new stadium. The area where they had moved was now one of 
the nicer areas of the city. The 49ers, on the other hand, were 
about to leave the city and moved to Santa Clara about 10 
minutes from where we used to live.

	The dread I had felt the day before had all but disappeared. 
We walked around like old friends, completely comfortable with 
each other. I even felt as if some kind of spark were still there. It 
may not have been what we had when we were younger, but it 
seemed like it might be something genuine. It was possible, that 
I might end my journey before I intended to, and stay in the Bay 
Area for a while. After all, besides my time with my wife, some of 
the best parts of my adult life were spent here, with this woman.

	It seemed as if Summer had thought of everything. We had 
lunch at a café near Golden Gate Park, and then an early dinner 
at an Italian restaurant where we used to eat on our visits to the 
city years ago. And then, as we were about to eat dessert, my 
ex-girlfriend pulled out two tickets to the Giants game. It was 
almost as if things had never gone wrong.

	The game turned out to be perfect. Not only did the Giants 
win a very close game, but there definitely seemed to be 
returning chemistry between Summer and me. From the start of 
the game she held my hand. Eventually, she found a way to 
snuggle against me, her arm wrapped around mine. Every time 
there was a close play, she would hold her breath and squeeze 
my arm tightly as if it would make the players perform better. 
Finally, when the team won the game on a walk-off homerun, she 
turned to me and firmly kissed me on the lips. Immediately, she 
apologized saying that she was just really into the game. Though 
I tried to take her words at face value, something told me that 
even if it was just a reaction, that reaction was based on deeper 
feelings.

	It was already dark as we drove south along the Bay. It had 
been a great day and I did not want it to be over. However, I did 
not want to run the risk of it ending badly, so I expected to just 
go back to the club. Anything that needed to be discussed could 
be talked about the next day. However, instead of continuing 
down the road to San Jose, she turned off in Mountain View. 
When I asked where we were going, she looked at me as if I were 
the dumbest man on the planet and said she was taking me 
home. Even considering her behavior at the game, I was slightly 
surprised, so I asked if she thought it was a good idea. She 
responded that we were both single adults and could be a little 
crazy if we wanted to be.

	For the first time on this journey, something did not feel 
right. At every other stop I felt as if I were meeting with women 
from my past to get finality and closure. Now, for the first time I 
was feeling that there might be more than that. I was nervous. I 
almost felt like I might be cheating on my late wife. But 
something told me that I needed to go, that all would be revealed 
if I just spent the night with Summer. 

	Her condo was not far from the one in which we had lived 
before. However, the building was nowhere near as nice. Rather, 
it was in a group of buildings that must have each housed about a 
dozen units, each of which opened to the outside. Hers was a 
third-floor walk-up unit that could only be accessed from a 
staircase at the side. Oddly, I noticed a bicycle chained to a post 
at the bottom of the stairs.

	When Summer unlock the door, she asked me to close my 
eyes. Her excuse was that the place was a mess, but something 
caused me to doubt her. However, I did as she asked and let her 
lead me to her bedroom.

	Summer did not turn on the lights. Instead, she adjusted the 
blinds a little bit so that the pale glow of the security light in the 
courtyard allowed us to see just a little bit of each other. Though 
barely, due to the darkness, I could see how her body had 
changed. Strangely, the larger breasts and full her hips reminded 
me of Carly Johnson, my high school sweetheart. For the first 
time in my life, it struck me how they had looked similar, not 
closely, but just enough to make me wonder if I had become so 
comfortable with Summer because she reminded me of a time 
before my life had spiraled out of control. 

	My history with women until Summer Davies had been 
terrible. Even my first college girlfriend, Elizabeth Franchini, was 
a toxic relationship in the sense that I was only there for the sex. 
Heather Long was nothing more than a sex toy with an addiction, 
an addiction I fed whenever I was horny. Though she had helped 
me grieve my parents, I dropped Shanika Washington when 
people began to make fun of our relationship. Finally, I had let 
Melissa Skipper all but destroy me.

	When I met Summer, life had settled down. I was in a place 
where I thought I wanted to be. Now looking at her in the dim 
glow of security lights that shone through the barely open blinds, 
I thought that maybe I could once again have a chance at a life 
like the one that I had seen my very first girlfriend had built. 

	With that revelation, I took Summer Davies into my arms 
and kissed her deeply. I do not know how long we kissed for, but 
it was slow and relaxed. Our hands explored each other's still 
clothed bodies, as I ran my fingers through her hair. And then 
suddenly Summer gasped and said, "My God, how much I've 
missed you." Then suddenly a switch was flipped, and the passion 
we once had returned.

	We kissed desperately, as we tried to strip each other like 
two young people alone together for the first time. First, our 
shirts, then our jeans, her bra, and finally our underwear were 
dropped in a heap on the floor. Summer's hand found my cock 
and began to stroke it. I was already harder than I could 
remember being in years. My hands first found her breasts, which 
sagged slightly, but felt amazing. As the excitement built, one 
hand slid down her body. And after what felt like an unkept bush, 
I could tell that she was dripping wet. I knew that it was time for 
me to enter her.

	Before I could decide how to do it, Summer lithely wrapped 
one leg around my back, and without even using her hand to 
position me, managed to slide all the way down my cock. She 
gasped that I was bigger than she remembered. However, that 
did not stop her from using her other leg to push up and down. 
Quickly, though, her leg tired, and she fell onto the bed, pulling 
me with her.

	Now with me on top of her, I desperately thrust in and out 
of her. We had not talked about birth control, but I did not care. 
If I were to impregnate Summer Davies tonight, that was how it 
was supposed to be. Perhaps it should have happened many 
years ago, but tonight would do. With that thought in my mind, I 
thrust in as hard as I could and shot my load deep inside of her. 
At the same time, her orgasm squeezed me, milking every last 
drop out of my body.

	For a while, we would doze off, but quickly wake up to kiss 
again. It took me back to our very first time, in the bed and 
breakfast in Santa Cruz. I felt like my journey should end here, 
with this woman in my arms that I would not let go. Eventually, I 
drifted fully to sleep.

	Sometime in the night, I had a dream. I was sitting in a 
diner that was somehow familiar. It was the middle of the night, 
moving towards early-morning, when a ghostly figure slid into the 
opposite side of the booth in which I was sitting. Though I could 
not make out any of her features, I could tell that it was my late 
wife. I sat in silence, waiting for the apparition to speak to me. 
After what could have been seconds or centuries, she told me 
that it was time to move on. When I responded, that I had not 
been ready for her to go and would never be fully over her, she 
replied that she knew. However, she continued to tell me that I 
had misunderstood her. While she wanted me to move to the 
next part of my life, here in California was not the place. I had to 
finish my journey, and then go back home to North Carolina. It 
would not be until I had exercised my seven sins, that I would be 
ready. As the ghost of the woman whom I had loved more than 
any other stood, her hand became real and brushed against my 
cheek. She began to drift away, but suddenly stopped and turned 
around, and said, "Now, everything will be revealed." With a snap 
of her fingers, I awoke.

	I was discombobulated when my eyes opened. Summer was 
no longer next to me. When I looked around for her, I saw that 
she was standing by the bedroom door wearing a robe and 
holding a mini baseball bat. When I started to get up out of bed, 
she motioned for me to lie back down. Looking worried, she 
yelled through the door asking who was there. From the other 
side, I heard a young boy's voice yell, "It's just me, mom. Bill and 
I had another fight, so I had to get out of there."

	Though Summer had not turned on the lights, I could 
somehow see her clearly. She looked deflated. I could tell that 
somehow this child was the answer to the question of why she 
disappeared, though it did not register how. If she had gotten 
pregnant, I would not have been upset. Rather, I would probably 
have been relieved, as it would have killed any doubts that I 
might have had that I should propose. Why would she have kept 
it from me?

	Without a word, Summer left the room. Though I could not 
make out the words, I could hear enough of their conversation 
that I could tell she was speaking tenderly to the boy. When after 
a few minutes, I heard steps coming towards the bedroom. I 
quickly got dressed, as I did not want to be introduced while I 
was naked. However, after a pause, I heard a second door open 
and a lighter set of footprints go in a different direction.

	Summer entered the room and gently sat down next to me. 
Almost crying, she asked me not to leave, and then babbled 
about not wanting me to find out like that. I sat up and took her 
in my arms, telling her that I had not intended to leave, but did 
not want to be naked if she wanted to introduce me.

	At that, Summer began to cry uncontrollably, though she 
muffled it in my shoulders so the boy could not hear. Not knowing 
what to do, I asked her if the boy was why she left. She pushed 
back from me, and with the most pitiful look nodded like a little 
girl admitting she had done something wrong. I hugged her again 
and told her that I would not have been angry because I would 
have wanted us to eventually have a baby anyway. And then with 
one phrase, all was revealed and a small part of me was 
destroyed, when the woman I almost married said, "You don't 
understand. He's not your son."

	The chain of events came flooding back into my head. It 
must have happened on the trip up to Berkeley, as she was 
preoccupied when she got back. When she disappeared, she must 
have realized she was pregnant. She must have told Dave's 
sister, who then told Dave. That is why they wanted me to get 
out of town and forget about Summer.

	For the rest of the night, I held Summer in my arms, all the 
time thinking about what I would do now. My feelings for the 
woman were still there. It would have been foolish for me to think 
that a woman like her would still be single after this many years, 
and even if she was, it was probably after a divorce. I had always 
wanted a child, and it was something my wife could never give 
me. There was absolutely no reason why I could not settle down 
with a single mother. When I had come to that conclusion, I 
kissed her on the forehead and told her it was okay.

	Summer kept me hidden in the bedroom until she had 
gotten her son out of the door in the morning. Then over a cup of 
coffee, she explained everything. 

	When she was in Berkeley on her weekend away she had 
gotten drunk at a bar with the girls. Randomly, her ex-boyfriend 
was also there. At the end of the night, with encouragement from 
some of the girls, she went home and had sex with him. Though 
she did not know how because she was using birth control, she 
ended up pregnant. She thought about telling me first, but 
instead decided to tell her ex. Though he knew she had been with 
me for many years, he told her that he had been wrong in how he 
treated her. He told her that the pregnancy was a sign that they 
should be together. She could not explain why, but when he 
suggested they get married, she said yes. It might have been 
because she wanted the baby to be around its father, but it might 
also have been a feeling that I might never propose and she 
should take what she could get when she could get it.

	The 'Bill' that her son was talking about was her ex-
husband. They had not lasted very long, only about three years. 
After initially enjoying marriage and fatherhood, he began to drift 
back to his true love, his laboratory. After about three years, 
Summer was all but a widow to his work. He did not even realize 
that she had left for about a week after she and the boy were 
gone. They had lived with Dave's sister for a few months until she 
saved up enough money for a down payment on the condo in 
which we sat. Her relationship with her ex was strained, but 
nowhere near as bad as the one between her son and his father.

	Emotions can be like a roller coaster. You race up the hill, 
but you do not know whether the top will bring a curve or a drop. 
In this case it was the latter. I took Summer's hand in mine, and 
suggested that perhaps I could do a better job at fatherhood that 
her ex had been able to. However, when I said that, Summer 
closed her eyes and shook her head. After a few moments, she 
said that she had only been thinking about herself, and never 
thought about whether her son would have been ready for her to 
date again. Apparently, one of the biggest conflicts between her 
son and her ex was about his girlfriend. She thought it was 
possible that if she started to date it might hurt her relationship 
with her son. That was a chance she was not about to take. She 
swore that if the circumstances were different, she would do 
anything to be with me, but right now she could not do that.

	It was not the answer that I wanted to hear, so I pleaded 
with her to reconsider. For what must have been an hour, I made 
argument after argument about how it could work. I even went 
as far as saying we could do a long-distance relationship for a few 
years until he was ready. But Summer held firm. And then, 
during a brief pause in the conversation, the dream from the 
night before came rushing back. When Summer asked me to 
leave, I simply walked out the door.

     I was lucky enough to find a cab almost as soon as I got out 
of the courtyard. As the driver took me back to my club, I found 
myself calling the one person that on this journey who seemed to 
want to have any kind of relationship with me, but it only 
friendship. 
     
     Melissa Skipper was at work, but took the time to listen. She 
even knew when to be silent as I cried. She suggested that I 
come back to Denver and visit a little while, but I declined. I told 
her that I had one other place that I needed to visit before I 
decided what I wanted to do-I had to visit Seattle. She 
understood, but suggested that I get out of California as quickly 
as possible.
     
     That advice, I took. Within half an hour of returning to my 
club, I was back in my car and heading for the freeway. There 
would be no reliving my time in California as I drove the back 
roads of the Bay Area. I would go north as quickly as I could.