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There is no sex in this story, if that is what you want I suggest you go elsewhere.
This is a story about an older man and two much younger women, the relationship they form and his ultimate reward. I’m not sure how to categorize this story. I guess its best just to say it’s a story.
This is a little different tale than I have written before. I hope you enjoy it. Appreciate the comments, both good and bad. It is the only way a writer knows if his work is worthwhile. On with the story.
The snow storm was getting worse. It was about ten miles to the next town and I began to wonder if I would make it. The Ford F250 I am driving is four wheel drive, but even the big truck was having a hard time staying on the road.
The snow storm was almost blizzard like and there were short periods of white out. These conditions made visibility minimal at best. I literally couldn’t see much more than thirty feet in front of the truck. I had slowed to five mph trying to stay on the road.
As I drove, I thought of why I was here in the middle of a small blizzard.
My name is Patrick Ryan O’Rourke. (Not Pat, Patrick). My wife would kick your butt if you called me Pat. As the name indicates I am of Irish descent. I am 59 years young, well I don’t really know about the young part. Young is not how I’m feeling lately.
At six feet even and 195 pounds, I have a fairly athletic body. I’m no Sean Connery, but I’m not an ogre either. You wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen in public with me. My hair is sort of salt and pepper, with more pepper than salt. The beard I wear is just the opposite; it’s mostly gray. I go into these details so you, kind reader, know what you have to work with.
I am medically retired from the United States Marine Corp. I was a Marine lifer for twenty years and was mustered out with a medical discharge. I am also retired from the security and surveillance field after another twenty years. I am drawing two pensions and medical disability check.
A word about my disability pension; I was medically discharged after being wounded in some third world shithole of a country and the retirement was not my choice.
My retirement rank was as a Gunnery Sergeant E7. I probably would have retired as First Sgt E8 or Master Gunny E9, but I had a bad habit of telling young officers to get their head out of their ass. I kept getting busted down in rank.
Always made it back to Gunny, but I would again open my big mouth again and miss out on the next promotion. I am currently unemployed. My pensions, disability, and other investment income gives me a pretty much do what I want life style. That’s not a bad thing.
My wife Molly and I were married for 35 years. I say were because she was killed in an auto accident a year ago. It was the day after I retired and we were on the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway) driving north from San Diego. We were going to take a couple of months to drive up the coast and into Canada and then east across Canada to Quebec.
We never made it past L.A. A large truck lost control, rammed our car from the rear, and then rolled over us. I was seriously hurt, but Molly was crushed and died at the scene. Still trapped in the wreckage, I was holding her hand when she smiled at me, whispered “I love you” and passed away. The light of my life had just gone out.
I spent about three months in the hospital, had two surgeries on my left leg and one on my left arm. The driver’s door of our car had done a lot of damage to that side of my body. The prognosis was good and I eventually regained about 90 per cent usage of both limbs.
Part of the investment income, I mentioned before is the settlement I received from the trucking company. Their driver had been drugged up on speed and he was trying to make up time on his delivery run.
This cost the company a lot of money, I mean a lot of money. They settled out of court to keep their drugged up driver out of the media. It didn’t work; they paid me all that money and I still went public and raised as much hell as I could. Didn’t do any good but it made me feel a little better.
When I was released from the hospital, I had to spend three months in rehab, and then several more months getting back to normal. After I regained the almost full, use my left side, I resumed my life. I took some of the money and bought a big Ford pickup.
My idea was to finish the trip Molly and I had planned; but with a bigger vehicle. I made it from Southern California to Oregon, before I ran out of steam. It wasn’t the same without Molly. I enjoyed the country I drove through, but I kept thinking how much she would enjoy this and it took the wind out of my sails.
I decided to suspend the trip and drive home to Arizona. My plan was to head east through Idaho and then south through Utah. It was getting pretty late in the season and the people I was staying with suggested that I retrace my steps and go back south on the PCH [Pacific Coast Hwy.].
They were worried about snow in the high country going the route I had chosen. My Ford pendik escort can make it through anything I told them and took off. I made it to Brian’s Head Resort near Cedar City, Utah and ran into a snow storm. This is where I started my tale.
The big Ford must have hit a patch of black ice and it started to skid toward the shoulder of the road. I was going to ride it out when I saw two people in the truck’s path. Hitting the gas and turning to wheel as far as possible, I was able to swing the truck around and miss the two figures.
When the truck stopped, I jumped out to see if they were okay. I wasn’t okay; I was shaking like the proverbial leaf in a storm. I yelled to them asking if they were okay. Silence from them both.
Now I had a chance to get a better look at the two people I almost ran over. They both were wrapped up in what looked like blankets. One was taller, about 5 feet 6 I guess. The way the taller one stood and was checking over the other made me think it was a female. The shorter one was about 5 feet 2 and sorta hanging on the taller one.
“I’m sorry; the truck hit some ice and skidded right at you. Are you okay?” Still no answer from either of them.
“What are you guys doing out here in this storm?” Again not a word.
“Look you can’t stay out here, you will freeze. Come get into my truck and I will take you where you need to go.”
The smaller one tried to pull away, but the taller of the two stared at me intently. The tall one said “Okay, but no funny business.”
They both climbed into my truck, and sat squeezed against the passenger door. I got the truck turned around and head back toward the town I had been trying to get to. I turned the heater on high to help them warm up. They must be freezing being out in that storm, I thought.
“There’s hot chocolate in that thermos if you guys want, it will help you warm up. My name is Patrick O’Rourke by the way.”
The taller one grunted thanks and opened the thermos, poured some into the cup and handed it to the other one. The cup of chocolate lasted almost 30 seconds. Another cup was poured and the biggest one pulled back the blanket and the parka hood to drink. My god it was a woman or a girl but the light wasn’t good enough to tell her age. The other one unwrapped herself and proved to be a younger girl.
A little aside here; there is a scene in the movie, “The Magnificent Seven” where Chris, played by Yul Brynner, is asked where he’s from. He gestures over his shoulder with his thumb indicating behind him. Then asked where he’s going, he points with his forefinger in front of him.
That’s what I got when I questioned my riders. No info just gestures, indicating they came from back there and are going that way. Strange I thought. One would think after the close call on the road, they would be talkative and excited. What I got the most was silence.
“Look, I am going south to Arizona, but I can drop you off in the town up ahead. You can stay there until this storm blows over.”
“Can we go,” the taller one asks.
“Go to the town, sure.” I answered.
“No, I mean, can we go to Arizona with you? We won’t be any trouble and we have money. We can help pay for the gas and food.”
I was stunned. Two strangers, girls at that, wanted to go to Arizona with me. Well, maybe not with me, but away from here anyway. I wondered what was going on. There was something under the surface here and did I want to get involved?
It took another hour to get to the town. I was thinking the entire way about my very quiet guests”. I saw a diner that was open and decided I should eat, so I stopped. The girls just sat there as I got out of the truck, taking the thermos with me to refill.
“Come on girls, you can’t stay out here. The truck won’t offer much shelter without the heater running, so come on into the diner. I’ll spring for dinner or supper or whatever it is.”
Slowly and cautiously the two got out and followed me into the diner. I slid into one side of a booth and they sat across from me. There was only two other customers in the diner; they looked like truckers sitting out the storm. After a couple of minutes the girls took off their blankets and parkas and I got my first good look at both of them.
The bigger of the two was about 16 I guessed. She wasn’t really pretty, but sorta wholesome with the girl next door look. The smaller one was a few years younger. It was obvious they were related, the family resemblance was very strong.
After the waitress had taken our order, I turned back to the girls and said, “Okay, what’s the deal ladies? Why were you on the road in this storm and why do you want to go to Arizona with me? And by the way, who are you?”
The older one answered, “This is my sister Alyssa Kelly. We need to get away from here and I thought we could go with you. I have a little money and can help with the gas. I’m a good driver and could help; after we get out of this storm, anyway.”
“What is your name, young lady and why away from here? It must be something serious maltepe escort to make you try to run away in this storm.”
“My name is Molly Kelly,” she answered.
I almost fainted when she told me her name. MOLLY! It seemed too much of a coincidence for her to have the same name as my wife. I must have heard her wrong. “Molly?’
“Yeah, I was named after my grandmother. The reason we need to leave is sort of personal, mister.”
“If I’m going to be taking two young girls across state lines, I think I have a right to know why. Even if it is personal; so talk.”
Molly told me a sad and horrifying story. She was 16 and Alyssa 13. They were living with their step father, Ralph Henning. Their mother Alice had been killed, in of all things, an auto crash two months ago.
They had stayed with their step father because they didn’t have anywhere else to go. Their mother had a sister Jennifer somewhere, but the girls hadn’t seen or heard from her in over two years.
Ralph had been sexually abusive to Molly for over a month now. No intercourse but he fondled and pawed her almost every day. He watched her dress and bathe then touched her in places that no young girl should be touched.
Molly felt she could stand it because she and Alyssa needed a home. There were no other relatives and Molly didn’t think she could support them. Then things got worse.
Ralph started to pay attention to Alyssa last week. He would stroke her arm or breast or butt when she walked by him and try to catch her changing clothes or in the bath.
Earlier today, he told Molly she would have to be nice to a couple of guys tonight and he would take care of Alyssa while she was busy.
Molly knew what he meant and decided no home was better than what they had. So they ran away and that’s when I came into the picture. They didn’t care where I was going just as long as it wasn’t here.
I don’t believe in fate or any of that type of stuff, but this scenario really stretched the laws of coincidence. I mean a girl in trouble with the same name as my late wife.
She and her sister were left alone when their mother was killed in a car crash, just like my wife. I had goose bumps the size of golf balls. I stared at the girls as they ate their dinner. Finally I sighed; I had made up my mind. Fate or coincidence or whatever, these girls needed help.
Help is what my wife and I had done for thirty years together; it is a hard habit to break. Don’t even know if I want to break it. Their situation sounded like something out of a bad movie, but I was going to help them get out of Dodge.
When the girls finished their food, I told them, “Go to the bathroom, wash up, use the toilet, wrap up, and meet me at the truck. I guess you gals are going to see Arizona. I will get some food to go and more hot chocolate while you are gone.”
They both looked at me with tears in their eyes and started to babble. “Thank you, we will be a big help” and on and on. I couldn’t really understand most of it, they were talking so fast.
“Go on, get going. We aren’t going to stop except for gas until we get closer to my home. Don’t want this Ralph to track us down. Now git!”
I bought some sandwiches, packaged snacks, filled the thermos and headed for the truck. As I left the diner, I heard one of the truckers ask the waitress if the girls were Ralph’s kids. The waitress replied that yes that was Molly and Alyssa.
I thought, oh shit, we have got to boogie. The girls met me at the Ford; we climbed in and beat feet out of there. I told the girls about the waitress knowing them and that we needed to get as far away as possible as quick as possible. I hoped my skills are up to the speed I was driving in this storm, because snow or no snow we needed to get some miles behind us.
I kept an eye on my rear view mirror for the next three hundred miles, watching for a sign of pursuit. As far I as I could tell no one was after us. Using secondary roads, we continued south on U.S. 89 to Arizona. We took 89A at Sedona to my home in Prescott.
I don’t know if we got enough of a head start that Ralph couldn’t catch us or if we were just lucky or some divine intervention kept him off our butts. Don’t know don’t care. We made it to my house without problems; well I did have to stop more than I wanted to so the girls could use the restroom, but other than that we made good time. You know how women are.
To help pass the time on the drive I learned more about the girls. Their mother, Alice, and Ralph had only been married for two years when she was killed. Molly and Alyssa couldn’t understand why their mother had married him to begin with.
Alice had told them she needed someone to help with the living expenses. She didn’t seem to love Ralph, but did like him. At least for the first year, then he became abusive to their mother.
Ralph was not a nice man. He started to hit Alice and yell at her a lot. He also complained about having to raise the girls. He didn’t appear to be too broken up at Alice’s death. Maybe kartal escort because of the insurance money he received.
I told them about my wife and me, our years together and the accident that killed her. Then I explained the trip I was on that brought the girls and me together. Molly thought it was “cool” that she and my wife have the same name. Molly, Alyssa, and I had become friends; at least friends of convenience, if nothing else.
My house is an old hotel, just off Whiskey Row in downtown Prescott. The bottom floor houses an upscale restaurant that leases the space from me. The upper two floors have been converted into two large apartments, one on each floor. My wife and I bought the place at a bankruptcy auction about 20 years ago, when I retired from the Marines.
The restaurant was thinking of leaving because of the auction. Before the sale we talked to them and made them an offer they couldn’t refuse to get them to stay. We froze their rental cost for a period of ten years. That lease paid the mortgage and a lot of the cost of the conversion of the top floors to apartments.
All and all, the place didn’t cost us much more than the down payment. My wife kept one of the apartments for our use and rented out the other. We used the apartment as our base; we traveled a lot with my job in security.
When Molly died, I quit renting out the top floor apartment; I just didn’t want the hassle. After ten years we gave the restaurant the same deal for another ten years. I would continue the same lease rate for as long as the restaurant wanted to. Other than maintenance and utilities, the place cost me nothing and the lease was a good source of income.
I got Molly and Alyssa settled into the top floor apartment. They had their pick of three bedrooms and two private baths. The girls had been living in a four room shack, with one bathroom. My place was the lap of luxury in comparison.
After the girls had two days to acclimate to my home and town, I took them shopping. They only had jeans, sweatshirts, heavy cold weather boots, and parkas. The clothes were too heavy and hot for our climate in Prescott.
Women must be born with the ability to enjoy shopping. These girls weren’t women yet, but they had a great time trying different things on and debating which items were best. We spent the better part of the day going to different stores and the girls trying on clothes.
I had the feeling that this was something new for them. If so, they took to it like ducks to water. For the first time, I saw actual smiles and heard laughter from those two.
In the end, I spent about five hundred dollars on the girls and had to almost force them to take the things I bought for them. They didn’t have anywhere near that kind of money and said they didn’t feel right in letting me spend that much. I told them the experience of watching them and their smiles were worth the expense.
The next day I took Molly and Alyssa to a ladies spa at a nearby resort. I had set it up while the girls were shopping yesterday. I went in with them, told them they were getting the works, and I would pick them up in five hours.
I was setting in front of the spa in my truck waiting for the girls to come out. Two very pretty young ladies came out of the door but I didn’t pay them any attention. That is until they walked up to my truck and said hello to me. My god, it was Molly and Alyssa.
They had changed so much that I hadn’t recognize them when they came out. All the way home the girls talked about what had been done at the spa and their new clothes. When we got to the house, they both thanked me with a hug.
Molly and Alyssa were in the kitchen the next morning when I got there. They had fixed breakfast for all of us and were waiting for me. Molly said she wanted to talk to me. I told her go ahead.
“Why are you doing this, Patrick? I mean, you saved us from the storm, fed us, and helped us get away from Ralph.”
“You needed someone’s help and I was there,” I answered.
“Okay, I can maybe see the ride to town and some food, but why the rest of it. You brought us to your home, gave us a place to stay, and now the clothes and spa. Why?”
“It’s what my wife and I did our whole life together. We didn’t ask why or should we when someone needed our help; we just helped. It’s the way we lived and the way we were. I don’t see any reason to change because Molly is gone.”
“You could have left us at the diner or turned us over to the sheriff instead of taking us with you. It would have been easier for you.”
“Yeah I guess so except when I tried to go to sleep. I would have known that the real problem, Ralph, had not been taken care of. Just to ease your fears, I’m not Ralph. I’m not planning on bothering you ladies in that way. I don’t molest children.”
“We know that much Patrick. You’re too nice of a man for anything like that. You are like a big bear, a big teddy bear.”
“I have one other reason for helping and it’s a little weird, so don’t freak out on me. Molly and I never had children, we wanted kids but it didn’t happen. If we had, your mother Alice would have been about the right age to be our daughter. That makes you young ladies about the right age to be my granddaughters. That’s how I think of you. Like I said, it’s weird
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