Page 41 of Not My Problem

“Just wait.”

She used her other hand to scoop up my cream, then moved her free hand underneath me to press against my back entrance. I gasped loudly as she slowly inserted her finger, just to the first knuckle, and began moving in and out in tandem with her fingers in my pussy.

I tried to hold out a little longer, but the pleasure was too intense. Lightning flashed down my spine, and my back arched off the bed as I made a noise that wasn’t even human. Then I was coming so hard that my vision turned fuzzy, and I forgot how to breathe.

I couldn’t say how long it lasted – a few minutes, maybe an hour – but when my body finally calmed I felt more wrung out and sated than I’d been in my entire life. Gretchen stood up, pulling the comforter down and then helping me get underneath it before she snuggled up against me, face to face. I rested my head in the crook of her shoulder while we waited for our breathing to return to normal.

“I love you,” I said, leaning up to press a kiss against her lips.

“I love you more,” she said, and I could tell by her serious expression that she meant it.

“Grandma’s going to be so excited that we got back together,” I said. “I swear she was more upset about the breakup than I was.”

“I’ve missed her too,” Gretchen said. “She keeps me young.”

“Yeah no kidding, she has me going to hip hop dance class with her and she’s much better than I am.”

“Has she made you go with her to Pilates yet?” Gretchen asked.

“No, she said her teacher is on maternity leave, and she doesn’t like the sub.”

“Just wait. She made me go with her one time and it hurt to breathe for three days because my abs were so sore. Meanwhile Jan didn’t even break a sweat.”

I laughed. “That sounds right.”

“What happens next?” Gretchen asked, looking a little vulnerable. “With us, I mean?”

“We date. We talk. We spend time together, and we see where everything goes from there.”

“I already know where I want things to go,” she said softly. “I want my ring on your finger, and your ring on mine.”

“Let’s just take things one day at a time, okay? There’s no rush.”

She nodded. “You’re right. And you’ll be right next door, so we’ll be able to see each other all the time.”

“We both need our space too,” I reminded her. “I want to make my own friends and have my own relationships. I don’t want to be one of those couples who have to do everything together, it’s annoying.”

“Okay, we’ll go slow, I promise.”

There was no way she could keep that promise. I knew it. She knew it. I’m sure my grandmother knew it. But learning patience and how to let go of being in control would be good for her. We’d figure it out together. I had no doubt about that.

Epilogue – Gretchen

Two years later…

Tears ran down my face as the dean made the announcement.

“Zoe Marie Boynton.”

Despite the warnings we’d received about decorum and disruptive behavior, Jan and I leapt to our feet, cheering as Zoe received her associate’s degree in social services. My neighbor let out an ear-splitting whistle that caught the attention of everyone in the auditorium, but she didn’t care. Her granddaughter was graduating. The only person more excited about that was Zoe herself.

She waved to us in the crowd, then moved the tassel on her mortarboard from one side to the other, indicating that she was now officially a degree holder. My girl had worked her ass off the last two years, working full time at the shelter while taking a full load of classes.

Despite her initial concerns, she’d done very well in school. The college had assigned her a tutor who specialized in working with people with dyslexia and other learning disabilities, and between learning new tools and asking for accommodations, Zoe had maintained a solid B average. It had done wonders for her self-confidence.

She moved in with me about six months after we got back together. Jan had complained that we were coming and going to her house too often and disturbing her, but that wasn’t a problem for her. The woman slept like the dead. She wanted us to have time together to grow as a couple.

It hadn’t been all sunshine and roses. I’d lost count of the number of times Zoe had told me, “Gretchen, I don’t want you to solve anything for me, I just want you to listen to me without judgement.” I’d gotten better, and we’d worked out a balance between me being the caretaker and Zoe being too independent. It had taken a lot of talking, several arguments, and three sessions of couples counseling, but we’d figured it out.