"You WANT to get pregnant?" I looked at her in disbelief."I've wanted to have your baby since I was fourteen," she said, stroking my chest."Fourteen?"...I was gasping again."Yeah. Silly, huh." Damn, Jill!" I moaned. "Why didn't you TELL me?" Because I knew what would happen if I did. Especially back then. And I knew what would happen if I told you or Mom now that I wanted to get pregnant. You'd both go into speeches about college and my future and all that stuff, when all I really want is to. And just before night fell we cuddled close together, her ankles trapped inside of mine and we simultaneously climaxed while staring into each other's eyes. That last one was only about making LOVE to each other.I was amazed at the affection pouring out of this young girl. I could be dying of pneumonia and the warmth of her adoration alone would be enough to save me.How could I have possibly ever considered turning her away?Sunday we actually went out to eat with Brian and Christine. No one. “Could I have a rum and coke, just a measure of rum and a full can of coke.”“Diet?” I asked, though looking at her, an ordinary can might have put some flesh on her.“Ooh, yes please,” she said with a smile.I brought her a glass tumbler, the bottle of rum, two cans of diet coke, a glass filled with ice cubes and a dish with sliced lime.“Here,” I said, “You can make it to your own taste.”She smiled and set to creating her drink, while I poured a generous measure of malt whisky with a wee splash. She was not recognised, but then why would she be in France? She was put on standby and eventually managed to squeeze into a spare seat early the next morning. Then she travelled by train into London, followed by another train down to the region and finally a ten-mile cab ride from the nearest station, the Sandmouth Bay railway included in Beechings cuts and sounded the death nell of the Bay as a resort. Hence arriving both unexpectedly and rather late at night at her mother’s.Christmas Day was.
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