"Are you, like, actually nervous?" Ann asked as they drove through Possum Springs, towards their first agreed-upon destination.

"Yeah I'm nervous," he replied. "I'm taking you on a date, that isn't really a date, but it is really a date. And I want to make sure this goes, you know, smooth. Right."

"That's really sweet," Ann said, reaching over and placing a hand on his leg, "but you can relax. I'm not a high-maintenance girlfriend, Trent. It's not like I'm expecting some grand date or anything. Just...hang out with me. That's all I'm asking. Keep it light, keep it fun. I really don't want this to be a big deal or anything. I just want to get out of the house, just you and me, and have fun."

"Yeah. Fun."

"For real. Just try to relax."

"Okay."

After lunch he and Bea had gone down and worked some more on the basement. It was interesting work, as it wasn't the kind of stuff he normally did. The idea that he owned his own home, and he was actually working to improve it with his girlfriend was pretty unreal. They had gotten through most of another layer of primer before Bea had sent him off to shower and get ready for his date with Ann. And now here they were.

Ann had told him that she wanted him to choose where to go. He'd freaked out a little, because it made him think of all those stories and situations you'd hear about girlfriends saying 'you choose' but really it meant 'you'd better know what I like or I'll be pissed'. But as he was getting ready, he decided to just shut that thought down.

He chose to trust Ann, that she really would be happy if he chose. And if he chose the wrong thing, she'd forgive him.

For the next few minutes, they just drove. Ann seemed happy, looking out at Possum Springs as they drove through it, a small smile on her face. She was normally hard to read, but he'd been slowly learning that she was just a stoic person. But she clearly wasn't emotionless. She'd been through a hell of a lot, but he'd asked Mae about it and from what she remembered of earlier interactions in their life, Ann had always been fairly reserved and quiet. He imagined that going through divorce, prison, and rehab had only strengthened that tendency.

"You're bringing me to...church, for our date?" Ann asked as they parked in the church parking lot. "Oh man, this isn't you springing on me that you're super religious or something, is it?"

He laughed. "No. It isn't. We aren't here for the church. Trust me."

"I do," she murmured, smiling dreamily at him.

They got out of the Jeep and started walking along the lot, towards the forest beyond the church. He took her hand and she laced their fingers together. For awhile, they just walked, moving away from the church, into the wooded area. The place was resurrecting, the plants coming back to life, the sunlight slanting down through the trees in shafts of brilliant luminosity. Motes of dust danced in the beams. Birds flitted among the branches overhead, and rabbits and mice and other woodland creatures scurried around.

"I've never actually been back here," Ann murmured as he led her deeper.

"Mae showed this to me," he replied. "I'm sure she'd want you to see it, too."

"Now I'm really curious."

They kept going, passing the decayed remains of a small camp that looked like it hadn't seen any use in months, and a tree with a single arrow sticking out of its trunk, and then came out the other side of the small forest to the rocky promontory that he and Mae had sat at awhile ago. They walked out onto the rock that overlooked a vast portion of farmland and fields and sat down beside each other. For another long moment, neither spoke.

"I gotta say, this is a really amazing view," Ann said finally. "Thanks for bringing me here."

"You're welcome. I thought it'd be a nice start."

For awhile, they sat together and just stared out at the vast tracts of landscape. After that, Ann laid back and put her hands behind her head. Trent did the same, and they stared at the sky together.

"So...Trent. How are you doing these days?" Ann asked.

"Uh, fine. Why?" he replied.

"I guess I just worry about you sometimes. Everything that happened...it seems like a lot to take in and deal with. And you're so busy. I mean, you've got a house and three girlfriends and you're trying to become a writer. It seems like a lot."

He thought about it. "I guess I do get freaked sometimes. I mean, I'm still having nightmares about people breaking into the house or getting eaten by the...you know. That thing. Or about one of you breaking up with me. And I worry about fucking things up. You and Bea and Mae are all so different from each other, I'm scared I'm going to get something wrong and really piss one of you off. It's hard keeping it all accurate in my head…"

"Honestly? I think you're doing a really good job, Trent. You could have successfully lied to me that you feel like you've got it all handled. Well, probably. But I think you're doing good, and if you are ever feeling overwhelmed, please don't feel like you gotta do it all. You can ask one of us, or all of us, for help with something."

"I'm trying to keep that in mind. Where I come from...well, shit, I guess it'd be common here, too. But I always was taught that I had to basically handle everything. Anything I failed to do, or fucked up, or misunderstood, or couldn't handle, made me less of a man."

"God, I fucking hate that mentality so much. It's so fucking toxic," Ann muttered.

"Yeah, and I get that, but it's hard to shake. I already got enough shit for wanting to be a writer. That isn't a real job."

"I also hate that mentality."

"Same. But I've mostly gotten over it. It's the only thing I'm even kind of good at and it's the only thing I really care about or feel like doing."

Ann rolled over suddenly and looked at him. She took his hand. "Trent," she said, growing more serious. He looked at her. "I want you to know that I really do support you in this. In you pursuing writing. I've been through a lot of shit, and I've seen a lot of shit, and honestly, it stripped away a lot of life's bullshit. Going to prison has a way of focusing you, especially after you get out and get another chance. It makes you take stock of...well, everything. It helped me figure out what really matters. People matter. Passion matters. Giving a shit about something and going after it matters. That you want to be a writer, that you care about and are going after it seriously, that's incredible to me. And I really just want to reiterate that I seriously will support you on this, whatever it is, however you might need it. Okay?"

"Okay," he replied after a moment. "I...that was really heavy."

"I know, but I felt like I needed to say it."

"I really appreciate it. Like a lot. Like...a lot. I can't even say how much. Fucking no one would support me before I came to Possum Springs. And I want to say that I'll support you, too. However it is you need me, or want me, I'll do what I can."

She laughed. "Dude, you gave me a house and an internet connection and a girlfriend. You're my fucking savior, Trent. You've done more for me than anyone else, besides my mother, in my entire goddamned life. Okay? Consider me happy."

"I get it, I just don't want you to feel like I've done so overwhelmingly much for you that you feel like...I don't know, you've used up all your goodwill, and so you stop asking me for things? If that makes sense?"

She thought about that. "That's a good point, I do kind of feel that way. But not overwhelmingly. I'll still speak up for myself."

"Good." He squeezed her hand gently.

They went back to staring at the sky.

"This isn't, like, lame is it?" Trent asked.

"What? No." Ann looked up at him, pursing her lips. "You're not tryin' to screw me up, are you?" she asked.

"No. That'd be rude."

She snorted and looked back down. "I suppose so." She hit the golfball and made a hole-in-one. Ann let out a little laugh as she walked forward and bent over to pick up the ball out of the hole. "Maybe you should be trying to screw me up, I'm kicking your ass," she murmured.

Trent tried to think of something to say but was too mesmerized by the sight of her shapely ass as she slowly stood back up. She had worn a short dress and he could see her panties when she bent over like that.

"Trent?" she asked, looking back at him.

"...what?" he replied.

She giggled. "You're a silly boy. Hit the ball."

"Okay." He set his golfball down and lined up the shot. It wasn't easy. They were on the tenth hole of the mini-golf course and he'd never been particularly great at this stuff. He hit it and managed to bounce it at least close to the hole.

"Why'd you ask that?" she asked after he got the ball in with another hit.

Trent retrieved his ball and they walked to the next hole. There was almost no one around. He'd been researching stuff to do in or around Possum Springs over the past week or so and a mini-golf course in a nearby town called Hunwick seemed appealing. They hadn't gotten a chance to go out there yet and when he'd pitched it to Ann, she'd been receptive. It had been about a twenty minute drive and so far it was fun.

"I guess...I was thinking that, you know, you're older than me. This might seem like, lame, or a kid's game, or something."

"Oh no, I've gotten past that," Ann replied as she put her golfball down again. He noticed that she was bending over slowly and facing away from him each time.

It was hard not to notice.

Especially with the way her dress wasn't long enough to cover her panties.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When I was married, I was still into certain things that are viewed as 'childish'. Like some video games, cartoons, reading and even writing the occasional fan fiction. It bugged Dennis. He was so serious all the time. He was so concerned about being a 'man'. Eventually, he would just get pissed every time I tried to engage with 'kid shit'. It got to the point where I had to do it in secret, and then finally just gave it up because it caused too many problems. And for a little while there I had kind of a complex about it."

"Fucking hell, Ann, I'm sorry," Trent said.

"It's okay. I mean, it sucked, but I'm past it now. Honestly, the more time passes, the more I'm realizing that him divorcing me and us getting through it so quickly was like this huge blessing in disguise. I mean yeah, it sucked absolute shit for a few years, but this is awesome. And even living by myself in my mom's basement was better. Sorta. So anyway, I was in the prison library one day, and I found this book that I'd loved as a kid. You ever read Goosebumps?"

"Yeah, actually. I read the shit out of it."

"Me too. It was It Came From Beneath the Sink and it was one of my favorites. It freaked me out a lot. Still does, kinda. It just stuck with me. But when I saw it, I wanted to read it, but then I remembered Dennis throwing out all my Goosebumps books-"

"Holy shit, he did that?!"

"Yeah. While I was at work one day." She sighed. "I had dozens."

"Fuck!"

"Yep. But it also set off all these memories of him getting pissed at me for doing 'kid shit' and I didn't read it. It became this whole thing. Whenever I'd go into the library, I knew exactly where it was and I'd always look at it even though I tried not to. Weeks went by. I kept looking at it, thinking about it, wanting to read it and getting mad at myself for wanting to read it because it's a kid's book and I'm a goddamned adult now. I kept thinking of excuses not to read it. My cellmate, who was actually really nice, noticed something was wrong and asked me what was going on and I finally broke down and told her, and all she said to me was: Selma, for God's sake, just go read the damned book. And, I don't know, that kind of just broke through something. It was like a dam bursting. I read it, and it was so great, and fun, and nostalgic…

"Prison got easier after that. I know it sounds stupid, but it did. I finally just asked myself 'why?', you know? Why am I doing this? He's not in my life anymore. But then I asked more, like, 'why do I have to give up kid stuff? People always say that but aren't there millions of grown-ass adults obsessing over Marvel movies now? Aren't video games normal?' He played fucking Call of Duty all the time. And I sat with that and turned it around in my head for a good long while and I finally decided that I don't give a fuck if someone thinks I'm immature because I'm reading a grade-school level book, or watching cartoons or anime, or playing video games like Mario Kart, or writing fan fiction. I don't give a fuck if they look down on me for it. So I'm past all that now. Because there's no goddamned good reason why we have to give this stuff up. We're adults? So the fuck what? There's nothing anywhere saying I can't watch anime and write fan fiction until I'm fucking eighty and be a functional adult…"

They had gone through a few more holes on the course while she'd been talking, but she had stopped during the last few moments. She looked at him suddenly. "Sorry, that became a rant, but I'm not wrong."

"You're not wrong," he agreed. "Honestly? Mad fucking respect for that, Ann."

"Thanks, Trent," she said, looking at him fully now, a serious expression on her face. "And for real? Mad respect to you, too. That's something that's attracted me to you so intensely. You don't fucking care. Or, if you do, you don't let it stop you. You don't care who knows that you're writing fan fiction, or play video games. I love how excited you get about things. How much fun you have. And how much fun you are to be around. If you lose to me or Mae or Bea, you don't get pissed off or irritable, you just roll with it or, if we're in the mood for it, shit talk, but like, fun shit talk. Everything about you, Trent, as a friend, as a boyfriend, as a roommate...it's all low stress. It's reasonable. And that is worth more to me right now than almost fucking anything on this Earth. I wouldn't walk away from this relationship for a million dollars."

"...wow, holy shit," he muttered.

"I know that sounds really heavy, and I guess it is, but it's the truth."

"I'm not sure what to say to that," he said, and hit his golfball so bad that it took him six tries to get it into the hole. They finished up their game, not talking the rest of the holes, and then returned their clubs and balls and headed for his car.

"Sorry if I made it weird," Ann said as they got into the car.

"It's not weird, exactly, more just...I've never had a woman tell me something like that. You seriously wouldn't walk away from me for a million dollars? Like for serious?"

She sighed, crossing her arms and pursing her lips. "I believe it, although I wonder if it's one of those things that you won't truly know until you actually face it, and I won't. To be clear, I wouldn't walk away from the relationship as it is now for a million dollars. I have vowed to myself that I don't care how much short term, or even long term, pain and damage it will cause: if I ever get into a neglectful relationship again, or an abusive one, I'm walking. But you...are something special." She fell silent for another moment more, looking down at her feet, gathering her thoughts. Finally, she let out a short huff and looked at him once more.

"Here's what I learned in prison, and rehab, and suffering through divorce, unemployment, withdrawals...people are what matter the most. The people you let into your life. A job, a car, a house, money, it's all important, but it's a support system. It's all fuel for the fire that is life, and life is relationships. I've looked it up. Unerringly, old people on their deathbeds often wish for the same thing: that they would have spent more time with their friends, with their family, with the people who mattered to them. I don't want to figure that out at seventy. I want to figure it out now and live my life that way so that if I'm lucky enough to make it to my deathbed at eighty, I can look back on my life without much regret. This romance has been whirlwind, but it's been a few months now and all these good feelings-they aren't going away. You're proving to be a fantastic partner. Kindness, patience, empathy, authenticity…

"I value all of these things. You're respectful and communicative and that's just-it's rarer than you'd think in relationships. So many people just don't fucking listen to each other, or hell, are actively trying to make their partner suffer in some capacity." She laughed suddenly and shook her head. "I'm sorry, even now, we're still having these super emotionally heavy conversations. I don't mean to slip into stuff like this, but there's just something about you that invites it. Mae and Bea and I have all been closed off because so few people were willing to listen to us and hear our thoughts, our problems, our suffering. But you just threw the door open and said 'lay it on me, girls'."

He nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Do you regret that?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Why?"

He thought about it. "Maybe I'm wrong, and I don't think I am, but all three of you seem healthier because you've been able to talk about your problems and the shitty things that have happened to you. I've figured out that just talking about stuff with another person can seriously help. And you've all told me that you feel safe around me, in my...our home. I'll never regret that."

She smiled. "You're a great guy, Trent."

He started up the Jeep. "And you're a great woman, Ann." He glanced over at her low-cut, high-riding dress. "And you look fucking incredible in that dress."

She smirked. "I wore it for a reason."

"What reason is that? Beyond looking sexy as hell?" he asked.

She laughed awkwardly. "You'll see. Start driving back to Possum Springs."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, pulling out of the lot.

"Now turn right," Ann said.

He turned right, onto the dirt path. "We're kinda far out here."

"That's the idea," she replied.

"If you say so."

"I absolutely say so. Trust me, you'll like it. A lot."

He did trust her. Trent drove along until she had him pull off the dirt road into a secluded little area among one of the many forests that surrounded Possum Springs. He admittedly felt a little anxious about being out here, given everything that had happened, but Ann had been flirting with him and teasing him all the way here and now he was more horny than he was anxious.

"Now what?" he asked as he parked.

"Now, get in the backseat with me," she replied.

They got out and switched to the backseat.

"Okay, now what?" Trent asked.

"Now," Ann murmured with a sultry smile, reaching up and pushing off the thin straps of her dress, "I show you why I wore such a short dress."

She pulled the dress down, exposing her big breasts, and scooted closer to him. Trent found himself quickly overwhelmed by horniness as her lips found his and he cupped one of her big breasts, groping her. As they made out, he felt her fingers working his pants, getting his button unbuttoned, zipper unzipped.

"Look at you," she murmured between kisses, "already so hard."

"You really turn me on," Trent replied.

"And that makes me very happy."

She kissed him once more, then scooted back and leaned down.

"Oh wow, you're gonna-" He let out a little grunt as she freed his erection and began running her tongue around the head. "Ah fuck, Ann…" he whispered. "That's, um, oh wow. Shit. You're good at that. Like...oh boy."

She giggled. "I am."

Then she slipped it into her mouth and started bobbing her head.

"Holy fucking-mmm...what if we get caught?" he asked, looking around.

"We're pretty secluded," she murmured. "Try to relax."

"It's hard to relax when you've got my dick in your mouth."

She giggled. "Good."

Ann kept sucking him off, bobbing her head smoothly, her lips like a dream. She kept at it until he was completely coated in her spit, then sat back up and began stretching out. "Come on, on me," she said, getting on her back. There was just barely enough room for her, putting one foot down, the other over the back of the seat, exposing herself. She reached down and pulled her panties aside. "Come on, I know you wanna hit this."

"I really do," he whispered.

"So what's stopping you?"

Trent looked around, so horny he could barely think. They were pretty secluded. "Nothing," he replied, and got on top of her.

It was the easiest thing to slip right into her. And then he was lost to her, in her, with her. It was awkward and weird and kind of uncomfortable, fucking in the back of his Jeep, because they were both pretty tall, but they made it work because the sex was amazing. Both of them groaned in pure bliss as he began driving into her.

"Oh my fucking God yes," she moaned loudly. "Fuck me. Come on, fuck me good and hard!" she growled.

He was surprised, and aroused, as she said that, staring up at him. She never really got aggressive and it was hot to see.

So he gave her what she demanded, pounding her good and hard for as long as he could until she orgasmed and then he did too, right in the middle of hers.

It was glorious.

When he was finished, he looked down between them, panting as he held himself up. "Uh...shit. Sorry," he muttered.

She laughed. "It's fine. I figured you'd do that. In my purse, there's some toiletpaper. Hand it over and I'll make sure I don't make a mess in your car."

"I really appreciate it," he said as he pulled out of her and got her the toiletpaper. He got his clothes fixed while she cleaned herself up and within a few minutes, the two of them were back in the front seat, staring out at the forest.

"That was...something else," he murmured.

"You know something I really like about you," she replied dreamily, "is that I can be slutty with you and it's so well received. I know it sounds a little weird, but I don't know, it became a thing. I liked being...maybe slutty isn't the right word. Although this was slutty. And I liked it. Sexy, that's a better word. I liked trying to be sexy. But Dennis was never into it. I mean in the beginning, kinda. But I don't know...looking back on it, I think that maybe he was never really all that into me. He thought I was kinda hot, and he was horny, and he didn't have a lot of options. And then he moves to Briddle, and suddenly he's got more options…"

Ann looked at him suddenly. "Do I talk about my ex too much? I just realized that I might be doing that. I've just never really had people to talk to about this, like, deeply personal stuff before…"

"It's fine," he replied. "You're working stuff out. It helps to have someone you can trust who will really listen to you."

"It does…" She frowned, looked down at her hands in her lap. "I gotta admit, it fucked with me. I know I've never been attractive, but the whole divorce thing…"

"Ann, you're awesome. You're a great person. You're smart, and kind, and polite, and patient, and a hard worker, and creative. And hot. Me and Mae obviously think you're hot. Bea has told you that. I'm so happy I'm dating you."

"What if it was just me?" she asked suddenly, looking at him. "What if there was no Mae? No Bea? Just me? What if it was just us dating?"

"I'd still be stoked to be dating you," he replied.

"Hmm."

"Is that...not the answer you wanted to hear?"

She sighed. "No, I mean, it was. It's just...there are times where I feel...awkward. About our age difference. Six years is a long time. It may not seem like it, but it is. When I think about who I was at twenty two, or, God, twenty...and dating a twenty eight year old...I just don't want to be the creepy person who, like, preys on younger people."

"You aren't preying on us, Ann. You didn't, like, 'groom' us or anything. We absolutely came onto you, and pursued you. And does it really feel like there's some kind of power imbalance in the relationship?" Trent asked.

"I...don't think so," she admitted. "Not between you and me. Mae…" She shook her head. "Don't tell her I said this, but sometimes she's still...she still seems like a high schooler. Less so nowadays, and she's getting better. And I'm not saying she needs to act super serious and grown up all the time, it's just, it feels kind of weird sometimes. I'm fucking this twenty year old with mental health problems. And her boyfriend. And I moved in with you without a job…"

"You have a job. You edit."

"I freelance. It's bringing in like two hundred bucks a month right now if I'm lucky. That's not a job...but I get what you're saying, and I appreciate it." She sighed and shook her head again. "Mostly I don't think about this stuff but sometimes I wonder if I'm missing something. Like I'm doing something bad and I just don't realize it."

"You aren't doing anything bad. You've never pressured Mae or I into anything. I get it, Mae's immature, and that's to be expected at twenty. But I've seen people at least as immature as Mae who are over thirty. To be clear: I get where you're coming from. But you aren't taking advantage of us. We know what we're doing. Which, I guess, is what an immature person would say with confidence, but I mean, do you think I'm immature?"

"Not really. Honestly, you're pretty with it for twenty two. Plus there's Bea. She's, like, the most with it of all of us and she's actually the youngest of us."

"Wait, for real?"

"I know, right? Mae's actually older than Bea by a little bit. She told me last month. Speaking of which...Mae has a birthday coming up next month."

"Huh. We should definitely do something about that."

"What about you?"

"June."

"Hmm. So you and Bea share the same month."

"Great."

"I'm sure it won't be a problem."

"What about you?" he asked.

"August."

"I'll have to remember that."

She shrugged. "I'm not much of a birthday person." She looked up at the sky through the windshield. "Getting cloudy. I think it's gonna rain. Maybe we should get home."

"Good date?" he asked as he started up the engine.

"Good date," she replied with a smile.