Dear Editor

by Emily Sharpe

  Dear Editor

  Emily Sharpe

  Published by Blushing Books

  An Imprint of

  ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.

  A Virginia Corporation

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  * * *

  ©2020

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  * * *

  Emily Sharpe

  Dear Editor

  * * *

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-64563-342-6

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64563-355-6

  Audio ISBN: 978-1-64563-356-3

  v1

  * * *

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.

  Dedicated to my friends of the Use Your Words Writers' Group, at Inner Truth Project, in Port St. Lucie, Florida. Especially to the two Wendys, one of whom started it all, and the other, who kept it going.

  Author’s Note

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental, but the author sincerely hopes that all of us find the kind of love and happiness that is possible. It's never too late!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Emily Sharpe

  Blushing Books

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Unsettled

  Sitting on stools at the kitchen island, Carol Daniels poured a second glass of chardonnay for her daughter Jessica and then another for herself. As Jessica reached for hers and took a sip, Carol watched her. "Are you all right, honey?"

  Jessica smiled. Her mother had an uncanny ability to read her. Maybe she should have gone straight home after work instead of stopping by her mom's place. She didn't want her mood to bring her mother down. In the year since her father had died, she had tried to at least touch base with her mother every day, even if it was just a quick text. She was there to comfort her, however, not the other way around. "I'm fine, Mom. New job, Eric…"

  "To your dad," Carol held her glass up for a toast, "Gregory Edward Daniels; may he rest in peace." She took a sip. "And may you find true love and joy." Carol slid off the stool and stood.

  Jessica frowned. "Eric and I are good, Mom. Mostly. I don't know why you don't like him. He's just a little…"

  Jessica watched as Carol leaned against the kitchen counter and looked out the window. Her mom loved the changing colors this time of year. Soon October's vibrant leaves would fall, the snow would come and then spring again. What a glorious cycle. Her dad had loved the seasons as much as she did. A husband of forty years and a father had been taken too young, in the line of service. A hero, really.

  Carol sighed and turned to her daughter. "I do like Eric. What's not to like? He's polite. He's easy on the eyes. He has a job. He's good at what he does. And after two years of me telling him to call me Carol, he still calls me Mrs. Daniels."

  Jessica laughed. "He is a little on the formal side. Not quite Downton Abbey formal, but yes."

  "Is he stiff in bed, too?" Carol threw back her head with her characteristic shriek of laughter. "That didn't come out right. I mean is he formal in bed?" Her eyes opened wide in mock apology. "Sorry! It's the wine talking. I just got a mental picture of him showing up at your bedside with a permission slip taped to his you-know-what. 'Eric may have sex today.'"

  Jessica squirmed a bit inside despite the fact that she and Carol had always been able to talk frankly. She knew her parents had been disappointed the first time they had realized she was…active…but they had never said a disparaging word. They'd married so young. It was different now. Wasn't it? Jessica threw a napkin at her, but she was laughing as she did it. She loved to hear her mother laugh, especially these days. "Sorry is right! Eric is sweet. And yes, in bed, Mother." She only called her that when she was annoyed—or pretending to be. Carol always took the hint.

  Carol set down her wine and then busied herself with something at the sink until Jessica was ready to continue the conversation. Every few seconds, though, she would chuckle again in spite of herself, and Jessica could imagine just what she was thinking. Stiff. Oh dear. It has been a while.

  Jessica studied her mother, framed by the setting sun outside the window. Carol's chestnut hair now gleamed with strands of gray, but even from the back, she was attractive, curvy, womanly. Jessica ached for her loneliness. She left both stool and wine to lean her back against the kitchen counter beside her mother. "Eric said he'd go to Rita and Gary's Halloween party with me." Jessica chuckled. "Bit of a surprise, actually. He's not really the party type. I've had my costume for weeks, but all the store had left for him was Darth Vader or this slinky form-fitting superhero thing. I knew he'd never wear that."

  "He'd look good in it; I'll give him that." Carol winked at her daughter.

  "Mom!"

  "What? Just because I'm a widow, I don't notice muscles anymore?" Carol shook her head. "Your dad died, honey. I didn't." She sighed. "Not all the way, anyway."

  Jessica put her arms around her, and they stood together for a few moments, silent, remembering and aware of the hole in their hearts. When Jessica stepped back, she grabbed Carol's hands. "I know you miss him, Mom. But it has been a year. You're still—"

  Carol stretched her head side to side, a familiar stress reducer Jessica had witnessed thousands of times during her lifetime. "Young? Pretty? Sexy?" She looked at her daughter with clouded eyes. "The answers would be 'no', 'I'll do', and 'that remains to be seen'. I'm not opposed to the idea of finding love again, dear. I'm just not up to making it my life's mission. It's hard to imagine finding someone that wonderful again, and I sure don't want to settle for someone less. That wouldn't be fair to any man, always comparing him to your dad. If love comes to me, well, we'll see."

  She embraced Jessica again briefly. "It's you I'm concerned about. Your dad and I had forty incredible years together. We fell in love young and never fell out of it. I know that may be hard to believe, since so many couples drift apart over time." She squeezed her daughter. "We didn't. Right up until the day…." She broke away from the embrace and threw up her hands in surrender. "I just don't see you and Eric like that. I'm sorry. But your life, your business!"

  A chime signaled the dishwasher cycle had ended. As Carol began putting dishes away, she changed the subject, much to Jessica's relief. "How's the new job going?"

  Jessica bent down to help. How many times had they done this intricate dance in the kitchen, weaving around one another to get to the right cabinet in perfect harmony? Sometimes she wished she'd never moved out on her own. She missed this, even though she knew it had been time. "I'm still getting to know the people at the magazine,
but they seem very capable, mostly friendly. There's a girl named Donna about my age, who has the cubicle next to mine. She's a bit of a character, but funny? Oh my gosh. Perky. Yes, that's the word, perky."

  Carol's head disappeared beneath the island to put away a roasting pan. "But it's a change and even good changes are stressful," she said, her voice a little muffled.

  "Sure, it is, but I'm coping. Yoga, music and," Jessica called pointedly down at her mother, "Eric." When Carol stood and rolled her eyes—the response she knew her daughter wanted—Jessica continued. "Maureen, the editor who hired me, has been on vacation ever since. Rumor has it she's out. Took a severance package. No one's speculating about who the new editor might be, if there even is one, but it sounds like someone from outside. There's a new owner for sure, but everything else is just gossip at this point. Should know more soon."

  Carol stopped, a platter headed for the top shelf in mid-air. "Isn't it time you get ready for the party?" She laid the platter down and put her hands on her hips. "I know you're too old to ask for a photo but maybe just one on Facebook so I can see you in your costume?"

  Jessica hugged her mother and groaned. "Yes, Mother." She stood and held Carol at arm's length. "Mom. I love you, you know."

  "I had my suspicions."

  The women laughed as Carol walked her daughter to the door and closed it behind her. She stood, leaning against the door, looking around the cozy living room. So many photographs from their high school days, their wedding, Jessica's growth over the years, her graduation. The little shrine with Greg's picture and badge, the citation for bravery he'd never see. She missed him every day, but Jessica was right. She was still relatively young; Greg wouldn't want her to be lonely.

  "Maybe one day," she said aloud to his photo. "For now, let's hope Jessica finds true love. And we both know it's not Eric." She shook her head sadly. Nice guy, but he and Jessica seemed more like great friends than lovers. That had been such an important aspect of their marriage; it stood to reason that they'd passed down that bit of DNA to Jessica.

  Carol felt a twinge of longing. Greg had been a passionate man, passionate about everything—his work as a firefighter, his family. "And me," she whispered before letting out a deep breath. It was Halloween, and she'd better start getting bowls of candy ready for the children in the neighborhood. November first was as good a time as any to start actively living again. No more sleeping late, she told herself. No more turning down lunch dates with friends. Time to get back to the gym. Life is short.

  Chapter 2

  Halloween Party

  Jessica straightened her satin mask in the bathroom mirror and tucked an errant strand of hair under the elastic. Her hair was a mix of her father's and mother's, medium brown with blondish highlights. That's better, she thought. Backing up a bit, she smiled at her reflection. Wonder Woman was looking pretty spicy tonight. Cutting down on the carbs had helped. Although she didn't go to the gym like she'd done before she got this new job, she still worked in some exercise at home most mornings.

  She turned from side to side, admiring herself, adjusting some side boob and making kiss lips at herself before taking another sip of wine. Absentmindedly, she gazed around the room—very plush, very expensive, very much not her style. It was much too ornate for her taste. Must be nice to be able to afford it, though, she thought with a sigh and then wrinkled her nose. She couldn't imagine living here. She certainly couldn't imagine Eric living here.

  Eric hadn't wanted to come to the party, and she didn't half blame him. Parties were fun, especially at Rita and Gary's. Gary had been the one who'd told her about the opening at the magazine—he was in the advertising department—and she'd been one of Rita's bridesmaids last year. They were both doing quite well, despite buying this ridiculously huge luxury condo, but she didn't like Halloween. All the emphasis on tombstones, witches, black cats and death, was not her thing.

  Death had taken her father just a year earlier, beloved grandparents before that. It was hard to conjure up a party attitude when tombstones reminded her of theirs. Memories of that last conversation with her father began seeping in around the corners of her thoughts, and she shook her head to send them scurrying. Eric will wonder what's taking me so long, she thought. Or not. He probably doesn't even know I'm upstairs. The guest bathroom had been occupied and Rita had kindly pointed to the stairway.

  She was pleased when Eric had agreed to come. He hadn't even minded that the only costume in his size was Darth Vader—no need to mention the skintight superhero getup. Overall, he was being a good sport, even though he said the helmet was uncomfortably hot. His full head of blond hair was Eric's one vanity, along with a mustache and full beard. Jessica had a feeling that the helmet was an issue, not because of the heat, but because of the way it mashed his shining curls.

  But he had come with her and put the helmet on as he rang the doorbell. He rarely drank alcohol and he wasn't particularly curious about people he didn't know—something that always came in handy at parties—but he kept Jessica supplied with snacks and laughed good-naturedly at Gary's jokes, even if they weren't funny. The helmet effectively hid what Jessica knew was a scowl when someone said something that didn't fit in with his politics or brand of humor, but she was glad he was there. They were at the point in their relationship where coming to the party alone would have been out of the question, at least in her mind.

  Jessica was in no hurry to rejoin the others. Maybe I should slow down on the wine, she mused as she picked up a copy of Vogue and flipped through it absentmindedly. She and Eric had known each other forever. They had been dating—unbidden, the thought echoed—forever. That didn't bode well. She loved Eric. Didn't she? Maybe not like what she'd grown up seeing between her parents, but how often does that happen?

  There was just something different about him. Nothing she could put her finger on, but even though they'd known each other a long time, it had been years before they actually dated. Soon after they'd gotten serious, he'd given her a key to his place so she could water his plants when he had an out-of-town trip. They had yet to be intimate, and she'd decided to jump-start things one afternoon, by letting herself in, in time to greet him when he got home from work. Surprised, he said he'd been outside in the sun all day and needed to jump in the shower before hugging her.

  "Why don't I jump in there with you?" she'd purred.

  To her amazement, he had turned her down! Just thinking about the memory hurt. She scrutinized herself in Rita's lavish bathroom mirror again. Pretty damn good. And he hadn't wanted to see her naked? Worse, his eventual explanation, pried out of him later during a commercial as they sat watching Monday night football together, hadn't helped at all. He said he was self-conscious. "It looks kinda small when I'm not…" he had said sheepishly, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

  She'd almost choked on her popcorn but nodded in what she hoped passed for an understanding manner. Small? He was thinking that being in a shower with her naked wouldn't excite him? For cryin' out loud! Who doesn't get excited showering with a naked lady he claims to love?

  Weeks later, they had made love for the first time—no problems in that department but no big fireworks, either. As soon as he was done, he'd rolled over with a satisfied, "Good night." Was that what all the fuss was about? True, it had eventually gotten better for her, but it just wasn't…intimate. I'm being unreasonable, she thought.

  The memory of that first shower rejection stubbornly smarted every time it came to mind. What was she getting herself into with this very nice, handsome guy who delivered when it got down to it, but who apparently only needed or wanted to "get down to it" once a week or so?

  Bleh, she thought, taking another swig of wine. My standards are too high. Mom and Dad were an anomaly. It's not like guys are beating down the door for the chance at being with me.

  Just then, someone did beat on the bathroom door, the timing making her jump, shriek, and giggle simultaneously. "Coming," she sang, walking to the door. When she opened it,
she laughed. Eric, sweet Eric. Dependable Eric. He'd missed her.

  Without a word, Darth Vader shut the door behind him, turned off the light and pulled her body close. It was pitch black. She couldn't see an inch in front of her, but she could feel a lot more than an inch pressed into her. Well, this is a pleasant change of affairs, she thought. Maybe Eric had decided to enjoy some wine after all. If that was what did it, she'd always have a bottle nearby!

  Jessica heard the thud of a plastic helmet hitting the plush carpet as hungry lips found hers. Wildly, tongue met tongue. Strong hands explored her satin-encased bottom and she clawed at the thick robes. Damn, he feels good, she thought. And tastes even better. When had Eric started kissing like this?

  In the darkness, he was suddenly gone. "Come back," she whispered plaintively. She had never gotten so excited so quickly. Never. As Jessica's mind reeled, she heard a whisper behind her, "May I touch you again? I should have asked first."

  "Of course," she murmured. Eric had never wanted to role play—or play much of anything before—but maybe the costume had gotten him going. Large but gentle hands reached around and cupped her breasts, toying with them, exploring inside the bodice of her costume until nimble fingers found her nipples and kneaded them lovingly. She thought she would climax right then and there, but then his right hand pulled out, slowly walking down the bodice of the costume to her stomach, caressing her right hip, pulling it tightly against his leg.