Fast Friends: Reunion

by Turner, Stacy

  She parked her car and let herself into the house with her key. From the foyer she could see out to the back. Her dad was raking leaves. David and Tyler were in the pool with a girl Tara didn't recognize. From this distance all she could really tell was that she had dark hair.

  “Mom!” Tara called out, poking her head into the kitchen. It was empty.

  “I'm downstairs,” she heard faintly. The door to the basement was open and Tara tripped down the stairs to find the game room empty. Her mother must be behind the drywall partition in the unfinished section where the washer/dryer and storage shelves were. Even with that door open, her mom must have really good hearing to have heard her from back there. Well, that explained a lot of the times she'd got caught misbehaving when she was little.

  Tara's mother, Sarah, was sorting an enormous pile of clothes and bedding onto the laundry table. Her greying light brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Sarah had a build very much like Tara's: medium height with gentle curves. As she entered her early fifties, she'd put on some weight, but she was still fairly trim. She was wearing a berry-pink T-shirt, khaki capri pants and Crocs, which she swore by.

  “Looks like you could use some help,” Tara said, kissing her mother's cheek. Sarah gave her daughter a swift hug.

  “Those boys are going to be the death of me,” Sarah said, finding another white item to add to one of her piles.

  “Why are you doing their laundry for them?”

  “The washer at their apartment complex is broken again.”

  “Really?” Tara asked, adding grabbing dark items from the pile on the floor. “What about the ones at the laundromat?”

  “Oh Tara,” her mother said, “you know they don't have a lot of money.”

  Tara didn't bother to point out that at least the boys could have been down here helping, but she knew it was pointless. Her mother liked babying the “twins.” As long as she did their laundry they would be at her house and they'd stay for dinner. It was the same with making their lunches or buying extra groceries. It was as much about her mother luring the boys to spend time with their parents as it was about the boys taking advantage of her indulgence. Best to just leave it alone.

  “What's new,” Tara asked, grabbing one of the bigger piles and starting a load. Her mother watched her like a hawk to make sure she was using the right settings and the right amount of soap. Tara ignored it. There was zero chance of her finding another mother at this point in her life, so she supposed she just had to live with the quirks of the one she had.

  “Oh, not much,” her mother said, once she was satisfied that her 28-year-old daughter wasn't going to ruin her brothers' clothes. “We're still trying to figure out the best way to do that community outreach event.”

  After her brothers got involved with Teach for America, her mother had developed an interest in adult literacy and started a group with some of her friends to raise money and awareness for adult literacy programs. They had some success in the their first year and now wanted to expand. The goal was to add new members and work more closely with more official organizations to match community volunteers with the programs that needed them. It was ambitious, but Tara admired their goals and her mother's commitment.

  With her background in marketing, Tara had a few ideas and offered them tentatively, at first. Her mother was open and soon they were having a lively discussion about low cost advertising and free ways to get mentioned in the local media. The rest of the sorting seemed to fly by and before they went upstairs the transferred the wet clothes to the dryer and started the second one.

  They had a cup of coffee and some cake. After cleaning up from coffee, Sarah went upstairs to do the bathrooms and Tara joined the rest of the family outside. The boys were out of the pool and laying out with their friend.

  “Hey guys,” Tara said, taking a seat on one of the patio chairs.

  “Hey, Tara,” David said, rising up onto his elbows. “How's it going?”

  “Pretty good,” Tara said. She leaned back, putting her feet up on one of the empty chairs around the patio table.

  “This is Rachel,” he said, indicating his friend. She was around the same age as the guys, looking buff in a modest blue bikini. She smiled at Tara and gave a little wave.

  “Hi,” Tara said, waving back. Tara had noticed some time back that the boys usually seemed to have just one girl that they both hung out with for a while. They each had a girlfriend once in a while, but more often there was some cute girl hanging around who never seemed to end up dating either of them.

  “Been staying out of trouble?” Tyler asked, grinning. Like David he had dark blond hair and blue eyes. Even as their sister Tara could see they were both really attractive guys. They were in shape and good looking, but they also had a quality that she would have called “toolishness.” They were a bit cocky, light-hearted and didn't seem to notice what other people were feeling until it was thrust in their faces. For example, they didn't seem to notice the adoring way that Rachel or their other female friends looked at them. It was awful if they only kept these girls around just to stroke their egos.

  “I do my best,” Tara replied to Tyler's question.

  “Where's your boyfriend?” he asked.

  “I'm not dating anyone,” Tara said. Well, not technically, anyway.

  “Oh,” Tyler said, adjusting his sunglasses. “So who put that hickey on your neck?”

  Tara resisted touching her throat. She wasn't going to rise to the bait.

  “What hickey?” Tara asked, feigning innocence.

  “She's got a secret lover, Tyler,” David said. “You know how that goes.”

  The two chuckled. They had always enjoyed giving her a hard time. If she had been contemplating grabbing one of her old bathing suits and getting into the pool this conversation put an end to that idea. Who knew what other bruises Mark had left on her body. He hadn't been gentle and she tended to bruise easily.

  Thinking of Mark made her frown. He hadn't texted her and he hadn't told her if they would see each other again before he left town. She hadn't planned anything for today because she had kind of expected they would spend some time together. Of course that was before they had sex. That had somehow changed him from her friend into a “guy.” Before the last 24 hours she would have just asked him about it, but now she didn't feel comfortable doing that. She was “the girl,” waiting for a signal of what he wanted instead of just coming out and saying what was on her mind. That was messed up. He was still Mark.

  “Just three beers, then,” David said. He was standing by the door. Tara realized he must have asked her if she wanted one, but she had been so lost in thought she hadn't heard him.

  “I'll have one too,” Tara said, giving herself a mental shake. Get it together, she told herself.

  She hung out with them for about an hour, slowly finishing her drink. Rachel, it turned out, was another teacher in their program. Unlike the boys she had chosen teaching as a profession and planned to go back to school and get her certification. She was quiet, but had a sharp sense of humor that expressed itself in witty little interjections. Tara liked her. The three of them got back in the pool after a while and Tara wandered into the house. Her mother was finishing up the master bath. Tara spent the rest of the day helping her mother clean, do laundry and fix dinner. Her mother was restful company, asking about her work and friends, but generally keeping it light. Things got a little sticky, though, when they sat down to have dinner. Rachel had left by this point and it was just the Phillips.

  “Wasn't the reunion last night,” her dad asked, halfway through the meal.

  “Yeah,” Tara said, keeping her expression neutral.

  “How'd it go?”

  “It was fun,” Tara said, picking at her dinner roll. “A lot of people came.”

  “Mark was coming, wasn't he?” her mother asked.

  “He was there,” Tara said. She took a bite of salad to avoid having to say anything else.

  “You don't sound very
excited,” he father commented. “Last time we talked you were really looking forward to seeing him again.”

  “He's good,” Tara said, stabbing a piece of meat with her fork. “He's changed.”

  “How?” her mother asked. “Not in a bad way, I hope.”

  “No,” Tara said, trying to choose her words carefully. “He just doesn't look much like he did in high school. He's filled out.”

  Her brother exchanged a knowing look and her parents didn't miss it.

  “To be honest,” Tara said, hoping a little more information would satisfy them, “it was kind of funny. Some of the girls who were mean to him in high school were hitting on him.”

  “Ooh,” David said, grinning, “so he's hot now. Are you finally ready to let him out of the friend zone.”

  “It's not like that,” Tara said. She jabbed her fork into her mouth, chewing aggressively.

  “What? Mark isn't interested or you're not going to give him a shot?”

  Tara didn't answer. She hated those two brats.

  “I think you're onto something, David,” Tyler said. “Look how hot and bothered she's getting.”

  “Cut it out, guys,” her dad said, coming to her rescue. What was it about being around family that made people regress into childhood. She was a grown woman. The boys' needling shouldn't have gotten to her like this, but she felt like a teenager again.

  “That's right,” her mother said, not helping one bit. “The details of Tara's affairs are really none of your business.”

  At that the boys burst out laughing and soon everyone joined in, even Tara.

  “Moving on from affairs,” Tara said, wondering why she hadn't thought of mentioning this earlier, “I saw Christie. She's huge.” At boys' frowns she explained further. “She's eight months pregnant.”

  “Awww,” her mother said. “This is her first, right?”

  They spent the rest of the meal talking about babies and weddings and the usual community gossip. True to form the boys left right after helping to clear the table and her dad went upstairs to take a shower. Tara and her mother did the dishes and chatted while they cleaned up. Tara was putting things away when her phone finally vibrated.

  Mark: What are you doing?

  Tara: Cleaning up from dinner.

  Mark: Are you home.

  Tara: At my folks.

  “Who's that,” her mother asked, leaning against the counter, a dish towel in her hand. Tara looked down to see that she had placed a plate precariously near the edge of the counter in her distraction. She resumed putting the clean dishes away. The phone vibrated again, but she didn't look at it immediately.

  “Tara...” her mother said.

  “It's Mark,” Tara said, putting the last of the dishes away and closing the cupboard.

  “Is something going on between the two of you?” her mother asked, gently. “You seem a little out of it.”

  “It's fine,” Tara said, smoothing her hands down the front of her jeans.

  “Honey,” her mother said, “you obviously had something on your mind when you came over here today. As much as I appreciate an extra set of hands with the chores I know you didn't spend the whole day here just so you could have something to do. What's wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Tara said. Nothing she could put into words right now, anyway.

  “Did something happen between the two of you?”

  Tara sighed. “We may have slept together.”

  “May have?” Her mother snorted a little laugh.

  “Okay,” Tara said, smiling self-consciously. “We slept together. And now I'm not sure where we stand.”

  “Were you drinking?” It was obvious her mom had her suspicions about what had happened when they were sixteen. Otherwise Tara couldn't think why that would be the first question she asked.

  “We were quite sober,” Tara said.

  “Is it bothering you that you didn't spend the day together?”

  “No,” Tara said, not entirely honestly. “He had plans with his dad. I get it. I'm just not sure what it means. It feels like things have changed, but I'm not sure how.”

  “This isn't a good way to start a relationship,” her mother observed. “If it's bothering you, you need to clarify things with him.”

  “We already have a relationship,” Tara countered. “We've known each other most of our lives.”

  “But this is different,” her mother said. “You were just friends before.” Her mother came closer, brushing Tara's hair back the way she used to when Tara was young. The soft caress was soothing.

  “How do you feel about him, Tara?”

  “I care about him a lot,” Tara said, after a pause. “He's the most important person to me outside this family.”

  “Does he know that? I'm guessing he doesn't.”

  Tara didn't answer. Did Mark know? She assumed he did, but thinking back to their conversation that morning all she'd said was how solid she thought their friendship was. She hadn't talked about more, and there was a lot more. She desired him as a man and admired him as a person. She didn't want them to be just friends that slept together. She wanted a real relationship.

  Her phone vibrated again and this time she checked it.

  Mark: Do you want to meet up?

  Mark: ?? Still there?

  Tara: Yes. We should talk.

  Mark: I'd like to do more than talk ;)

  “I've got to go, Mom,” Tara said, buzzing her mother on the cheek.

  “Of course, darling,” her mother said, smiling. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tara walked out to her car.

  Tara: Talk first.

  Mark: Okay. Let's meet for a drink. Know a place?

  Tara: Monroe's on 6th.

  It was a cute little sports bar not far from her house. It would be pretty quiet on a Sunday night, but not deserted.

  Mark: 20 minutes?

  Tara: See you there.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mark stood outside the bar, asking himself yet again what he was doing. He had watched Tara arrive and walk inside from the shadows, still debating his own actions. He had told himself he need to see Tara to explain about moving back, but just thinking about her made his cock hard. Something told him that what they had shared so far was only the beginning. He wanted to test her limits, to see how far she would let him go when they played. It was almost like a itch. And every instinct told him she would yield to him again and again

  When he went inside she was already sitting in a booth still dressed in the jeans and hoodie she'd been wearing that morning. Mark sat down across from her and reached across the table to take her hand.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he said, squeezing her fingers.

  “Hi, Mark,” she said, warily.

  “How'd your day go?”

  “Great,” she said. “Hung out with the family. Relaxed.”

  “Me too,” he said. “I didn't realize how much I missed all that until today. It was really nice to just shoot the shit with my parents. Dad and I got a lot done in the garage, too.”

  The waitress arrived with her drink and after sampling her beer, Mark ordered the same thing.

  “I thought about you all day,” he said, stroking her wrist with his thumb. “I kept remembering the way you looked this morning with your top off and my fingers inside you.”

  Tara stiffened, her nipples becoming visible through the layers of clothing. God, she was hot. He couldn't wait to be inside her again, to feel her pussy clenching around his cock when she came. Did she have any idea what she did to him?

  "I, um,” Tara seemed to have completely lost her train of thought.

  Mark came around the table and sat next to her in the booth. He pressed his thigh against her leg. He was still holding her hand and he took the other one too, lacing their fingers together.

  “You're intoxicating, Tara,” he said, kissing her ear. “Just thinking about you gets me hard.” To prove it he guided her right hand to his lap, the other hand s
till interlaced with his. Her fingers burned through the denim. She squeezed him gently, tracing up and down the rigid length.

  The waitress cleared her throat and placed Mark's drink on the table. Without batting an eye, Mark paid for their drinks and thanked her. When Tara pulled her hand away, he gently guided it back, smiling slyly the whole time. It was pretty dark in the booth, so he knew no one could see what her hand was doing, even if the waitress suspected something. Mark wondered how far he should push this. He wanted nothing more than to feel her fingers on her bare skin, but Tara looked nervous.

  “I need to tell you something,” he said, his left hand squeezing her thigh. He picked up the beer with his other hand and took a sip.

  “Do you remember my dad's friend Max Van Patten?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said, stifling a gasp when his hand moved up to the juncture of her thighs.

  “Well,” he said, pulling her near leg over his and scooting them lower in their seats, “he got in touch with me a few months ago about a partnership. He has a few investors and thought I might be the right guy to head up the technical side of the business. It would mean moving back here.”

  “What?” She sounded a bit unfocused and Mark could understand why with his fingers teasing the seam of her jeans. Her hand on his cock certainly didn't make forming sentences any easier.

  “I'd virtually be my own boss” he said. “My own team. Comparable salary, which really translates to a raise since it's so much cheaper to live here. Can we go back to your place, babe? I really don't like this many layers between your hand and my cock.” He pressed his fingers right over her clit, rubbing the cotton against her sensitive flesh. “Unless you want me to pull my zipper down.” This was was whispered directly into her ear. Mark nipped at the salty lobe. It would be incredibly exciting if she jerked him off right here under the table with no one the wiser, except maybe the waitress who kept casting them wary looks.

  “Let's go,” she said, removing her hand from his lap. This time he let her. Elsewhere would be better, even just her car. Somewhere they could bare their naked flesh and see what they were doing to each other. He told her his dad had dropped him off, and they could take her car. Tara looked a little annoyed at the announcement, but Mark had no intention of letting her brood. Once they were in her car, he brushed the back of his hand across her nipples and kissed her hard. She was breathing roughly when she started the car. Mark should have just let her drive, but he couldn't help touching her, stroking her legs and tickling her nipples as she drove the car. She wiggled in her seat and arched away from him, but didn't tell him to stop. He didn't let up even after she parked, cradling her ass against the front of his hips as they rode the elevator up to her apartment, his hands cupped over and massaging her breasts. She was a clumsy mess when she tried to unlock her door and Mark knew it was because of how turned on she was. He didn't move to help her. He enjoyed knowing how much he got to her.