"I was so mad at him that night," the weathered woman sighed as she straightened a spray of white roses, laying them neatly of a patch of freshly cut grass. She smiled to herself, content with the distant memory that played across her mind.
"I was mad at him for moving into our quiet town, our quiet lives. The day that truck drove up, I lost some of you. I never admitted it at the time, but I knew that we would change. How we did change, I could have never imagined. I wouldn't do anything to make any of it any different."
Her eyes changed focus, shifting away from the fresh grave to an adjacent, weathered bronze marker.
"And you," She spoke to the patina'd marker. "Did you ever fathom what the future held for you? I often wondered if you knew the effect you had on him. Did you think you would have ended up a small footnote in his life?" Valerie pulled a single rose from the dozen she had just laid and placed it on the face of the bronze marker. Her hand lingered on the raised 2004 shortly.
"I've remained jealous of you, even after all these years. Jealous of Matt's stubborn heart where you were of concern. Pissed over the joy you shared with him, and then took away too early."
She wiped away a rouge tear.
"Thank you, love, for all that you showed us."
"Mom," a middle-aged man spoke softly, extending Valerie his hand.
"Jacob," Valerie acknowledged using her hand to block the bright spring sun.
"It's time to go."
"Already," she questioned, not realizing the time. Reluctantly, she extended her arm, placing her hand securely in his as he helped her off the soft grass.
Valerie kissed the tips of her fingers and waved them at the two silent graves as she turned and walked to the car parked not far away on the drive.
"Good-bye, Dad," Jacob said as he kneeled down and brushed a few errant blades of grass off the new bronze placard.
As he straightened out, he gave an appraising glance at the marker of his namesake. He had tried to understand the man that his parents called his uncle, but he never could. This uncle turned out to be a mystery that was content left in the open. Only in the last months of his life had his father began to explain his relationship with this man. Now his mother was picking up from where his father could not finish.
"I was furious with him that night," Valerie said as the two drove in silent reflection out of the cemetery. "Mad that he had the audacity to move to my street and upset my life. So mad I slammed the phone down on the receiver and stormed out of the house. I intended to go console Matt and wash his worries away. That all changed when I saw Jacob's house. I remember it as if it happened last night, running across the street…"
Valerie banged on the front door and rang the bell relentlessly until she realized that the house was empty. Her anger, however, would not be deterred. She sat down on the dark front porch to wait for Jacob's return.
She did not have to wait long. After stewing in her anger for fifteen minutes, Mrs. Keats's Ford Explorer pulled into the drive, its headlights illuminating the porch momentarily. Valerie quickly stood and moved out into the amber glow of the streetlights where she would be visible.
She watched with baited breath as Joanne and Jacob climbed out of the vehicle and headed for the front door.
"Valerie, hun," Ms. Keats said as she approached Valerie. "Are you ok, dear?"
"Yes, Ma'am, I just need to talk to Jacob."
"Is everything all right dear," Joanne asked, her voice laced with concern.
"I just need to clear something up, is all," Valerie answered, as convincingly as she could.
Joanne looked her over shortly before she glanced over her shoulder at Jacob, who stood there looking apprehensive. Figuring that this was the culmination of a lovers' quarrel, even though she had not seen them hang around each other often, Joanne thought it was time for her son to step up and take responsibility for his actions.
"Ok, sweetheart," she said understandingly, giving Valerie's shoulder a light squeeze before she brushed past and made her way into the house.
As soon as Ms. Keats made her way into the craftsman style house, Valerie's whole expression took on a darker, more menacing tone as she locked her eyes onto the shadowy figure of Jacob, who seemed to be trying to hide from her stare.
"Where do you get off, Jacob Keats?" Valerie demanded, her voice filled with absolute distaste.
"I--" Jacob sank back into the shadows.
"Do you know, ever since you moved here, people have been saying some pretty nasty things," She spat, stepping towards him. "Did you know those things were about you and Matty?"
"No, I--" He again tried to step away from her.
"I'm not done yet," she yelled through gritted teeth.
"Do you think I don't care about his feelings or yours?" Jacob growled as he took a step towards Valerie, effectively ending his failed retreat.
Valerie was taken aback by his sudden change in mood.
"Do you think I managed to do this just to make your poor Matty look bad?" Jacob held his bandaged arm high in its sling.
She was left silent by his momentary onslaught, her eyes switching from his to the wrapped arm he held out for her to see.
"So he broke your arm, did he? You deserve it," Val questioned menacingly trying to save face.
"No," Jacob answered sternly. "He said I was nothing. Instead of breaking his jaw, I dented a locker door."
"You wouldn't," Val admonished as she stepped backward into the shadowy front porch of 2536 Lilly Court.
"No," he questioned confidently, backing her against the front door. Noticing how their roles had reversed.
"No." Her voice trembled as she stared at his silhouetted face.
Jacob now had her backed completely against his front door. He knew his next move, and the mere thought of it had him trembling nervously. Tenuously, he leaned in, his eyes closing. Valerie saw it coming. Despite the urge to ball her fists and lay him out, she stayed in her spot, admitting that she wanted it to happen as much if not more then he did.
There in the shadows of Lilly Court, two pairs of trembling lips met in the darkness, each exploring the others lips before separating. Valerie looked up at Jacob, a twinge of fear flashed through her eyes.
"What did we just do," she whispered scarcely
"What was right." Jacobs tone had a wanton air.
"Was it," Valerie quickly answered her own question as she kissed him again.
This kiss was not as fleeting or innocent as the first had been. The simple act became more urging, deliberate on her part. Jacob stumbled backwards in the darkness, but Valerie would not let his lips escape hers as the two collided with the wooden porch swing.
Valerie relented after the blind fumble. Only long enough to let Jacob pull himself completely onto the swing and find a more comfortable position. She was on top him instantly, the force of her kisses causing the back of his head to crash into the clapboard of the house.
"Oww," he groaned, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand.
"Take it out," she whispered hoarsely.
"Take what out," he questioned dumbly
Her hand groped across the front of his loose jeans, squeezing the aching lump they held captive, accentuating the object she couldn't give word of. Jacob watched the silhouette of her. He felt like a deer caught in the headlights of this amazing young woman, too scared to submit, but unable to resist her glory.
"Are you sure," he asked.
Her head moved up and down as her finger traced the rough ridges of the zipper to the top before she started slowly pulling it down. With every clink the zipper traveled downward, his dick throbbed anxiously.
Jacob awkwardly fumbled with his belt and top button. As he did, Val got off him and stepped back, waiting for his grand reveal. After some work, Jacob had managed to loosen his belt and the button of his jeans, allowing his pants to peel open around his red tartan boxers that appeared blacker in the amber glow of the streetlamp.
"Keep going," she whispered.
Jacob reached for his dick through the fly of his boxers.
"No, pull them down."
Jacob paused for a moment trying to mentally figure out how he was going to manage pulling his drawers down with a only one functioning hand while he remained seated.
"One cheek at a time." Val gave an answer to his silent quandary.
Jacob followed her instruction, lifting one ass cheek and pushing down the layers of fabric before resting it back on the harsh canvas of the cushion. He repeated the action with the opposite cheek before finally pushing the jumble of cotton down his legs.
There it was, seeming perfectly tanned in the off colored glow that filtered thorough the vine covered trellis surrounding the small front porch, turgidly pointing towards his abdomen and surrounded by a thatch of wiry trimmed brown hair. Jacob's hand traced along the undercarriage instinctually, luxuriating in the feel of the cool night air on the balmy skin.
Valerie admired the sight, wishing she had a camera to capture what she saw as perfect. Her hand reached out and cradled his balls, feeling the air-cooled sweat, before lightly tracing upwards until her fingers collided with his. Her fingers played across his before they retreated to button of her own pants.
The button popped free with little effort and she pushed her jeans to the ground Jacobs eyes widened as Valerie reached for the slim band of her panties and pushed them to the ground joining her jeans.
She quietly stepped forward as Jacob watched what he could see of her. Slowly she mounted the swing and straddled his lap allowing his dick to rub the moist lips of her vagina. Jacob moaned at this new intriguing sensation. He thrust his hips, rubbing the length of his shaft along her.
Slowly she leaned in and sought out his lips as she thrust her hips against his. Lost in their kiss, she raised her hips. She reached between them, pulled his dick away from his body, and lined it up with her own before steadily lowering herself back down onto his lap.
Jacob delivered a grunting moan into her mouth as his free hand clenched the flesh of her exposed ass. His other bandaged arm lightly rested on her thigh, providing her with a scratchy feeling with each tender movement of the swing.
Two moths frolicked in the bright amber shine of the streetlamp. Their bodies collided briefly before fluttering away only to repeat the action again and again. The moths were driven by an ancient hunger, a desire to harness the brilliance of the amber light. Not too far away, shrouded in shadows, two people were equally driven by a different hunger as old as history. They would ultimately reach their goal, however, it was no were near as unattainable as the desire of flame to a moth.