The Funeral Courtship

Abandoned Childhood wishes, finally fulfilled.

Based on a post by secret sexy writer. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

I
had known Alex Newberry my entire life. He was the boy down the street
during my childhood, the boy behind me throughout school, and the boy
who I always wished would see me as more than just "one of the boys."
Especially since I was a girl.

But
I'd never pressed for anything more. I didn't want to ruin our
friendship. His family was my second family. Even his nana considered me
as her granddaughter.

We'd
stayed in touch even after I left town to pursue a new career.
Throughout the year, we would exchange Emails and sometimes the
occasional text. Only at my birthday and on Christmas did I receive
snail mail from him. They were always hilarious and always perfect.

The
day I received the small envelope in early Fall threw me for a loop. It
was written in Alex's neat print and had a pre-printed return label
with his address, so I knew it was from him. I just didn't know why. I
was even more stunned when I slid my finger under the flap and pulled
out the single sheet of paper folded in half.

I
had been standing by the sofa in the living room when I opened the
envelope. My eyes scanned the brief note inside, and my knees gave out. I
collapsed to the sofa, tears rimming my eyes.

Alex's grandmother, Nana Newberry, had passed away.

Visions
played in my head like an old home movie. Mostly, they were of the
summers swimming in the pond behind her house and the day-trips she'd
invite me to go on with Alex. Both of my own grandmothers had passed
away when I was still too young to remember them much. My loss was
almost as deep as Alex's was.

Almost.

Once
I'd caught my breath, I reached for my cell phone and pulled up his
number. I tried to swallow my tears as I heard the line ring. I wasn't
surprised to receive his voicemail. He was probably busy making
arrangements and handling family.

"Hey,
Alex. It's Jaynie. I got your letter. I'm so sorry. I'm booking a
flight out tonight, and I'll be there as soon as I can. If there's
anything you need, let me know. See you soon."

I
was already halfway to my bedroom when I clicked off the phone and
shoved it into my pocket. My brain was on autopilot as I dragged my
suitcase from the closet and gathered the necessary toiletries from the
bathroom cabinets and drawers. I was folding socks and panties when I
realized I should call the airport.

Less
than an hour later, I was in the backseat of a cab and leaving a
message on my boss's phone telling him I would be out of town for a
couple of days due to a family emergency. I arranged for a rental car
and for nightly accommodations nearest to my hometown. I knew there was
no place in town to stay, the population being barely just under five
hundred. If anything had changed over the years, that definitely wasn't
one of them.

It
wasn't until I was seated on the plane, the city's lights fading into
dots below me that I let myself think about Nana again. I missed her
hugs the most. Her squishy arms always surrounded me with such love. I
felt protected. Wanted. My parents were always busy working. Nana was so
much more than just an adoptive grandparent.

My
mind wandered, and I remembered Alex's hugs. I smiled, laughing softly
at the memory of him hugging me tight with a toothy grin while Nana took
our picture. Then he pushed me into the pond; with my clothes on. We
were only six. But I was old enough to know that I liked Alex more than I
liked other boys.

I
was the only girl in the neighborhood, so I either had to adapt to
being a tomboy or be left out. I chose the former, much to my mother's
dismay. I allowed her to enroll me in dance classes when she insisted I
act more like a girl, but I secretly enjoyed playing with the boys more.
I didn't mind being the Indian the cowboys always captured and tied up.
Or the robber they arrested with the plastic set of handcuffs. Or even
Princess Leia, when they wanted to re-enact Star Wars, especially when
Alex got to be Han Solo and rescue me.

I
must have drifted off because the next thing I heard was the
announcement to fasten our seatbelts and put seats and tray-tables in
the upright position for landing. The plane was only half-full, so I was
soon strolling through the nearly empty terminal and heading downstairs
to collect my baggage and rental car. I grabbed a cup of coffee from
the only open vendor and asked the information desk for directions to
the hotel where I'd made reservations. There was nothing more I could do
for Alex tonight.

But
once I'd reached my destination, the last thing on my mind was sleep.
My accommodations were comfortable, but not even a hot shower seemed to
help. I crawled beneath the covers and turned on the TV, hoping I'd just
fall asleep from boredom and get some rest before the hour drive to my
hometown in the morning.

A
ringing phone and the incessant chatter of a woman and man pulled me
out of the strangest dream. I'd been fully dressed and standing by
Nana's pond, but I was thirty-four years old, not six. Alex walked
towards me, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, and he flashed
his toothy grin at me. I reached for his hand, and I swear I stepped
forward, but the next thing I knew, I was falling backwards into the
pond. I struggled to swim, the weight of my clothes pulling me
underwater. Someone grabbed my hand, and then I woke up.

An
automated wake-up call answered my sleepy greeting, and I clumsily set
the receiver back on the handset and rolled over, groaning. That's when I
realized the morning news was playing on the TV. My body felt like it
had been through a 5K run; or maybe it had struggled to stay above
water. In either case, I dragged myself to the bathroom for another
shower.

I
decided on a simple navy pantsuit and crimson camisole blouse. It was
cool but dark enough for the funeral, yet I didn't feel completely
dreary in it. Plus it emphasized my curves and long legs. Today, I felt
like I wanted to be a girl in front of Alex. Not that it would matter.

After
securing another cup of coffee, I took a deep breath and pointed the
rental car towards my hometown. I remembered where the only funeral home
was, and I had plenty of time before the services started. Yet, I was
suddenly nervous. I hadn't actually seen Alex in several years, despite
our constant contact. I hated the fact that it took something like this
to bring us together again. I promised myself that I would visit more
often.

The
parking lot was overflowing when I finally pulled up to the funeral
home. I ended up parking half a block away on a side street and walking
back to the large Victorian-style house that had been converted into the
place where we said goodbye to our loved ones. Trees adorned with
vibrantly colored leaves decorated the front yard. It looked like
something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, set right in the heart of
my hometown.

I
jo