It Happened on Maple Street

“Then it’s time.”

“Please don’t do this.”

“I have to.”

Strange as it was, I understood that. Some part of me recognized the truth of what he’d just said. He had to push me.

I felt trapped. Panicky. And didn’t want to leave the safe enclosure of my desk.

“Can you at least give me some time? This is the first time we’ve talked in almost thirty years. Can’t we just take things as they come for a bit?”

“You’re going to tell me what happened.”

“If I can.” He’d be disgusted. Hate me for what I’d allowed to happen when I hadn’t let him . . . He wouldn’t want me. What man would? James had been right about that. But then, I didn’t want him to want me. I couldn’t give him what he’d need if he wanted me.

“You can.”

I wasn’t innocent. Or sweet. Even after all these years, I was still defiled. I knew what bad stuff felt like. What James had done to me was a part of me.

It was something I would never, ever forget.

Or get over.

Even if Tim could get by the incident, he wouldn’t want a Tara who couldn’t make love with him.

“I’ll do my best, Tim, but, please, just leave it for now?” I just wanted to love him long-distance for a while. Because I did love him. With all of my heart. But I knew that once anything more was asked of me, I was going to freeze up.

I hadn’t had a sexual reaction since the night James had taken me for a drive on a country road.

Tim and I talked for a while longer, about all kinds of things, and by the time we hung up it was clear to both of us that we were something to each other. Something big. But with severe limitations.

I was his. I’d always been his. And he had no idea that I was turned off by even the thought of a penis.

Tim was so jazzed up he couldn’t sit. Couldn’t watch television or get to work painting the living room—or do anything that took any real focus. He’d had no idea that coming back to life after a twenty-seven-year hibernation would be so painful.

Or so fantastic, either.

But he had to play it cool. This was all or nothing for him. And Tara was struggling. He couldn’t risk scaring her off.

For either of their sakes.

When he gave up trying to get any real sleep and got up and ready for work, he wrote the e-mail quickly, without overthinking it.

Tara,

Good morning, I didn’t sleep a wink all night. Hope you got some rest. I wanted to take a few and say hi and tell you I really enjoyed our conversation last night. Let’s keep it real, no games, okay . . . Time will tell what will happen. Now get to work!!!!!!!!! You have deadlines, and I don’t want to be the cause of you missing them. Have a great day.

Tim

I woke up on top of the world. I was still me. Incredibly conflicted. But a long-ago wave of happiness was filtering through me, too. Something was completely right with my world.

Lying in bed, I read Tim’s e-mail on my phone. I answered him from my phone, too.

Tim,

No games. Thanks for the “good morning.”

I’d love a recent picture where I can actually see your eyes. And your smile.