Stacey Ch. 01

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A beautiful tease mends a broken heart.
11.3k words
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 08/22/2017
Created 10/05/2008
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This is the third and final series from a group of nonfiction stories that began with "Angelina" and continued with "Sisters."

~ ~ ~

Sometimes there is no way to explain or even justify life. It simply assaults you, absolutely at random. Things happen that are so utterly cruel, you realize the gods must have it in for you. Then, just when everything seems completely hopeless, and crushing despair is all you can feel, life often changes its fickle mind and blesses you with something equally wonderful....

~ ~ ~

My beautiful wife of six years lay dying in a hospital bed. Christ, she was only twenty-seven; way too young to be on a fucking life-support machine. Still, there she was, slipping away, and all I could do was hold her hand as I cried at her side.

The EKG monitor finally went flat. My angel had lost her battle to survive, and we never even got to say goodbye.

Some drunken asshole had passed out at the wheel and crossed the center line, effectively ending two lives when he crashed into Angelina. She was just driving home from the grocery store, and suddenly she was gone. I may as well have died too.

The asshole drunk driver? He hardly suffered a scratch, and didn't remember a thing.

I was lost. I didn't want to live any longer.

One dreary Wednesday evening I was sitting at the dining room table writing my suicide note when my older brother burst into the kitchen.

Scott was like Kramer fromSeinfeld in that he never knocked before he would just come barging in. He lived in L.A. with his wife Monica, but he was in San Francisco that week on business so I had him staying at my place.

He sat down at the table with me, and before I could say anything he snatched my paper away. "What's this?" he asked casually.

Once he read the first few sentences, he slammed the paper on the table. Pissed off, he shoved me in the chest, knocking me to the kitchen floor. "This is bullshit!" he roared. "You arenot going to do this to Mom! You cannot fuck us over like this!"

He expected me to fight back, or at least attempt to explain myself, but I had no fight in me, and nothing to say.

When he finally calmed down, he made me tell him everything. We talked deep into the night, then he called Monica to let her know what was going on. Long story short, we agreed that the only chance I had was to move somewhere far away and try to start a whole new life.

"Here's what's going to happen," he said. "I'm taking you out of here. You're coming to live with Monica and me, and we're leaving tonight. We'll worry about the rest later."

~ ~ ~

The months dragged by. Life went on. I didn't care, so Scott managed to sell my house. I was staying in one of his extra bedrooms in their modest, well-kept home in L.A. He and Monica tried to keep me involved in things, and I did my best to be courteous and friendly, but mostly I was just existing. I would get up and go to work, then come home and watch TV with them until it was time to go to bed. On my off days I'd help around the house and otherwise try to keep busy somehow.

I wasn't still thinking about suicide; at least not constantly, anyway, the way I had been before. I sure as hell wasn't thinking much about living, either. Like I said, I was just existing.

I appreciated all of their help, so I gave Scott a portion of the equity from the sale of my house. He didn't want to take it, but I insisted, and I put the rest in the bank. I felt the time had come to stop being a burden to them, and I had at least regained enough emotional stability to convince them that I wasn't going to kill myself. I'd be okay eventually, was the working plan.

We decided I would get my own place. That was the whole point of moving away, wasn't it, to start all over? At some point I was going to have to try, and they grudgingly agreed it was time.

I didn't want another house. I didn't want anything other than an apartment, or maybe even just a room for rent. I wanted as few responsibilities as possible.

A few days later I was browsing the local classifieds over breakfast at a coffee shop. I circled a fairly promising 'Room for Rent' ad...

Single woman looking to share a small but nice two-bedroom apartment. Good location, clean apartment. Male or female, either is fine. Pets are negotiable. No smokers and no flakes.

I called the number and was shocked to hear my friend Stacey answer the phone!

"Stacey?"

"Dan? Is that you? Hey, whatcha doing? We haven't talked in, what's it been, a couple of years now?"

"I was...well, I was calling in response to your room for rent ad!" I said, laughing.

That was the first time I'd laughed in I don't know how long.

"My room for rent ad? What happened to your house up north? Where's Angie?"

"Stacey, can I come and see you? We need to talk."

"Definitely. Come on over," she said, and she gave me her address.

"I can be there in about an hour. Is that okay?"

"That's fine. It's so great to hear your voice again! See you in a bit!"

Two hours later I was sitting on her couch, and I'd told her everything. We cried together for a long time.

"Oh, Dan, I'm so sorry. I can't believe it. I can't believe Angie is gone. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

"It's not your fault, Stacey. Things happen, and sometimes people just fall out of touch."

~ ~ ~

Stacey and I were best friends growing up. We were next-door neighbors, so we went to elementary school, junior high, and high school together. She was a tomboy, always just 'one of the guys.' Although we were never boyfriend and girlfriend, at nine years old we were each other's first kissing partners. Hiding beneath the stairs in our apartment complex, we played 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours.'

We always sat together in class, and she would cheat off of my work. We did homework together too, and when we were in high school we went to football games and movies as part of a larger group of friends. We were inseparable. We remained friends throughout high school before heading off to the same college.

By that time she was no longer a tomboy, and I definitely noticed the change. She had become a very beautiful young woman.

The thing is, during all that time we never managed to date. She had her boyfriends, I had my girlfriends, and it became difficult to keep seeing each other.

Although we promised to stay in touch when she moved on to grad school three thousand miles away, our contacts became much less frequent. Because we did at least manage to keep up with each other via the occasional letter, she came to our wedding when I married Angie, my on-again/off-again girlfriend from the time we were eleven years old. The three of us were friends in high school, but Angie and I ended up taking it all the way.

Stacey always seemed to be okay with it, though there was often an underlying current of tension between us whenever the subject of Angie came up. "Dan, I'm fine with you two being together. I like her a lot, and she's good for you," she told me one day during our summer break before the start of college. "Besides, it's not as if we're boyfriend and girlfriend, right? I get it...we're only friends. Look, I admit I sometimes feel a little jealous about you being with her, but I know I have no right. Let's not make a big deal over it, okay? Just let me handle it on my own, and I'll manage."

"Really?" I asked. "You? Jealous? I never knew."

"I never wanted you to know, alright? I'm just 'one of the guys,' remember? So can we drop it now?"

The last time I had spoken to Stacey she'd just earned her master's degree and was looking for a job. She was thinking of moving back to L.A., where we all grew up together. That was more than two years ago.

~ ~ ~

"So how long have you been back in L.A.?" I asked.

"About a year now," Stacey said.

"Why didn't you call or write to let us know where you were?"

"I don't know, I guess I just thought it would be best if I left you and Angie alone."

"Were you ever going to call or write?"

"What about you?" she responded defensively. "It's not like you kept writing me either."

"Stacey, you know I would have always made sure you had my new address and phone number if anything ever changed."

"Well, I'm sorry. Now I'm really sorry," she added, hugging me.

"Anyway," I continued, "what's your story? Why are you renting out your second bedroom?"

"Oh, well, my last roommate was a total flake. She skipped out on me with no notice. She didn't even pay her final month's rent. That's why I put 'no flakes' in my ad," she laughed. "I'm still paying off my school loans, and while I'm working and doing okay, I need to be pretty frugal about things. Besides, you know me, I was never into money, flashy cars, and all that fancy stuff. This place is fine for me. I'm always working, so I'm hardly ever here. I just need a reliable roommate."

Of course we made the decision that I'd come live there. She was thrilled, and I was at least relieved. We talked about how it would work living together, especially with her place having only one bathroom. We agreed there would probably be times when we'd need to share the bathroom in emergencies, and that knocking first would be a good idea. When necessary we'd throw on a towel, and if worse came to worst we would try to avert our eyes.

The idea was to keep things really casual and low-stress.

The same held true regarding the way we would dress around the apartment. Neither of us typically wore much at home anyway, so we wouldn't insist that the other wear a fur parka for modesty's sake.

"What about dating and bringing people here?" she asked.

"There won't be anything for you to worry about there with me. I won't be bringing home any girls. Believe me, that's the last thing you have to worry about," I said, sullenly.

"Oh, Dan," she frowned, taking my hand.

"What about you?" I asked, changing the subject. "Dating anybody?"

"Nothing serious. I date here and there, but mostly I just don't have the time. If I ever do bring someone here, I promise I'll try to be discreet."

"It's your place, Stacey. You do whatever you want."

"Uh-huh," she said, eyeing me closely.

Finally we'd talked everything through, and I moved in the following week.

~ ~ ~

To be honest, not much had changed with me. I'd moved in with Stacey, but I was still working the same job. A couple of months had gone by, and I remained sad and withdrawn. When I wasn't at work, I was mostly staying to myself in my room.

Well, okay, one thing had changed. My brother Scott had decided that I needed to start looking at women again, so despite my protests he hooked up a new computer in my bedroom.

"Porn, you idiot. What else would you need a computer for?" he laughed.

He also decided to start taking me to strip clubs almost every Friday night. Simply to humor him, I went along with it. We went to the clubs, and I watched the beautiful dancers. I even browsed various porn sites, both the soft and hardcore varieties.

I really did try. I had some lap dances. I attempted to masturbate in my bedroom. I did all the usual things that used to get me excited.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing worked. I couldn't become erect; certainly not enough to come. I never told Scott that, though. He was trying so hard to help me snap out of my doldrums that I simply didn't have the heart to burst his bubble.

The first crack in my ice occurred one morning during breakfast, and it was over the silliest, most mundane of events. While enjoying a rare day off from work, I was sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal when Stacey walked into the kitchen.

She was wearing her usual 'relaxing around the house' clothes: little jogging shorts, and a t-shirt. Nothing out of the ordinary; it was pretty much the same as most of our mornings together.

For some reason, though, I happened to notice her legs that morning. It wasn't like I was leering at them or anything either. No, I just happened to notice them when she reached up to grab a glass from the cupboard.

'She has really pretty legs,' I found myself thinking. I also noticed that she had an incredibly great body. Despite her loose t-shirt it was obvious that she had nicely flared hips, a flat stomach, and large, firm breasts. She clearly had a great ass, too. I mean an amazingly great ass.

'There is just nothing wrong with her body,' I realized.

Then I noticed my cock starting to stir a little.

'Hey! That's a first!'

I hadn't gotten hard since Angie had passed. We'd shared a fantastic sex life, and once she was gone I basically ceased to be a sexual being.

Stacey caught me looking at her legs. Giving me a sweet smile, she poured herself a glass of juice before pulling up a chair beside me.

Like an idiot, I simply kept staring.

"What? Dan, you're blushing," she grinned.

"Nothing," I answered, quickly looking down at my cereal.

She gave me another sweet little smile. "Okay," she said, still smiling as she got up to put her glass in the sink before walking out of the kitchen.

I noticed her legs again, and her ass, too.

'Why haven't I ever noticed her ass before?'

It suddenly dawned on me that Stacey truly had a fantastic ass; really, a world-class ass. That was also the first time I noticed her blonde ponytail, which was bouncing prettily as she walked away.

'Hmmmm,' I smiled to myself.

That evening I was watching a movie when Stacey came home with Chris, a co-worker she occasionally dated. She had brought him home twice before, and we all got along just fine. They'd hang out in the living room, I'd go to my room, and he would leave a couple of hours later.

That night Stacey asked me to stay and hang out with them. She said it was my apartment too, and that I didn't have to run off and hide in my room whenever Chris came over. Chris said the same thing, inviting me to stay and watch the movie with them.

I was in our little love seat facing the TV, and they were together on the couch. Eventually I turned off the lights so we could watch the movie better. After a while, I heard shifting sounds coming from the couch. Glancing their way, I noticed that Chris had moved. Having pulled Stacey close to his side, he had his arm around her shoulders. He was watching the movie, but Stacey was watching me. I quickly looked away.

About a half-hour later I heard more rustling sounds. Chris had dropped a hand over her shoulder, onto her breast. He was trying to undo the top buttons on her blouse, and Stacey was quietly trying to stop him. When she saw me watching, her eyes went into a brief panic.

Wanting to give her some space, I got up and went to the kitchen. Taking my time, I grabbed a glass of water before returning to the living room. "Thanks, guys, but I'm heading off to bed now," I said.

They were still on the couch, and Stacey had managed to close her blouse buttons. She looked up at me with deep sadness in her eyes. "Okay, sleep well," she said softly.

Chris said, "Have a good one."

I went to my room, where I took off my clothes and put on a pair of shorts.

Noticing another slight stirring in my cock, I thought,'There it is again.' I was maybe halfway hard.'Okay, let's fire up the ol' computer and see if I can't find something I like....'

I logged on and browsed around for a while.

Nothing. My half hard-on had gone away.

I heard Chris leave, and I was about to log off when I happened to stumble upon some pictures of a pretty blonde with a ponytail sticking out of her baseball cap.

'Mmmm,' I thought. Okay, that girl did a little something for me.

I heard a quiet knock on my bedroom door. "Dan, are you still awake?" came Stacey's voice.

"Yes, come on in."

When Stacey walked into my room, I noticed right away that she'd changed her clothes. She was again wearing her little shorts and t-shirt, and her long blonde hair that she had been wearing up was in a ponytail.

"Chris went home," she said.

"I know. I heard him leave."

"I sent him home. I thought he was making you uncomfortable."

"Stacey, no, you don't have to do that. This is your apartment, and you have a life. Believe me, live your life."

"It's just that I know you saw...well, you know...."

"Stacey, it's okay. What, because I live with you now, you're not supposed to have any fun? I don't want that for you."

"Are you sure? I can always take him to my room, or maybe we should just go to his place instead. I hate that you feel like you have to hide in your room whenever I have company. This is your home too now. I want you to feel totally welcome here."

"Stacey, look, if it'll make you feel better, I'll try to not 'hide in my room' every time he comes over. Okay?"

"I'd like that."

"The thing is, it works both ways."

"What do you mean?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Stacey, I saw you. I saw that look of panic in your eyes when Chris had his hand on you, and you knew I was watching. You were far more weirded out over it than I was. I took off to give you some space simply because you looked so uncomfortable with him touching you in front of me."

"I'm so sorry about that, Dan. I really am. I've never been in that situation before, you know, with another guy, and you...watching me. I guess I can't help but think back to how jealous I used to feel whenever I saw you and Angie making out. I'm sorry I did that tonight. I should just stop bringing him here."

"Stacey, please don't do that to me."

"Don't do what to you?" she asked, fear showing in her beautiful eyes.

"Don't be so afraid for me. You're a grown woman. I know you're going to date, and I know what happens when people date, okay?" I gave her a small smile.

"I don't know, Dan. Are you sure? You really don't mind seeing me like that?"

"Well, I don't know that I'd gothat far," I added, still smiling. "I'm just saying, you deserve to have fun, and I don't want to be the reason you don't have any. Look, let me deal with it, okay? Let me work it out within myself as to what I'm willing to watch. You go ahead and enjoy yourself. That's what I really want for you. I want you to be happy, Stacey."

Laughing, she said, "If you think I'm going to break down and have wild orgies in front of you just because you say it's okay, you've got another thing coming, mister!"

We both laughed together, for maybe the first time since I'd moved in with her.

"What about you, though? What are you doing about...you know..." she asked, grinning as she coyly raised her eyebrows.

That's when she noticed the girl on my computer screen...the girl with the long blonde ponytail. I realized too late that I'd left the image up on my screen.

I went to click it off.

"Dan...."

"Stacey, seriously, it's not what you think."

Again, she gave me a sweet smile. I think she knew she was driving me crazy with those little smiles.

"I'm serious," I said, embarrassed. "It's really not what you think."

"Oh, and what do I think?" she grinned, thoroughly enjoying my obvious chagrin.

"I'm sure you must think I'm sitting in here all night jerking off or whatever to porn," I said, looking down.

"Are you telling me you're not? Then who's she?"

"She's someone I just found, literally only a minute ago."

Stacey went over to sit at my computer. Still wearing her beguiling little grin, she studied the picture of the blonde girl. "Dan, you can't even see her face, much less her ass or any of her body. She's not even naked. I don't get it."

"That's because there's nothing to get. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Nothing was going on. I happened to see that picture, and I was just trying to figure out why I like it so much when you came in. That's the whole truth, I swear."

"Okay," she teased, still smiling. "Look to your heart's content at pictures of pretty blondes with ponytails. Whatever floats your boat, sweetie!"