December 4, 2029

My Mom died this morning.

Grandpa said she'd lost the will to live.

Rachel Matheson always was good with following through on a plan, so I guess we shouldn't have been too surprised when she set her mind on dying….and then went ahead and did it.

December 6, 2029

We buried her today in the cemetery behind the little church on the edge of town. It is a depressing place. She would have hated it. I know I do.

Aaron told me there are supposed to be all these different stages of grief. I don't remember what they all were, but I can tell you where I am. Anger.

I'm so mad at her for leaving me. Again. What kind of mother does that? What kind of mother decides being dead is preferable to being with her child? But then I suppose that's the thing…she didn't prefer being dead to being with her child. I'm just not the right child. If Danny was alive instead of me, I bet she'd have found a will to live.

Bass has been supportive, but mostly he stays in the background. Everyone knows he and my Mom hated each other. He's just trying to stay out of the way while we grieve.

Miles doesn't leave his room. He's been drinking and little else ever since she died. I think once he sobers up, he's going to be mad too. After all, I'm not the only one she left behind.

December 17, 2029

Blanchard came to the funeral. It was the first time we'd seen him since that time he touched me and Bass threatened him. He and Bass seem to have worked through their problems. They talked for a while after the service. Blanchard has some mission he wants Bass to go on for him.

Miles came out of his room long enough to watch the burial. Then he went back. He looks like hell, and smells worse. Stephanie was there too. I guess she's a nurse when she's not fighting with Rangers. Now that the fighting has pretty much died down, she's been helping Grandpa at his clinic. They are both worried for Miles. We all are.

They're trying to figure out a way to get through to him. I'm not sure there's any point.

He'll come around when he's ready.

December 19, 2029

Bass went on Blanchard's assignment and has been gone for a week. He came back today in a pretty good mood. The trip had been a success. He'd given me the signal as soon as he arrived at Grandpa's and then we both made our excuses after dinner so that we could meet at Marion's. Bass calls it our 'Happy Place' because when we're there we both let everything else fade into the background. We just enjoy each other.

We'd barely made it through the door and he was pulling me close. "How are you holding up?" he asked. We hadn't had a lot of quality time since the funeral.

"I don't want to talk about it." I said, shaking my head.

He understood. "What do you want?"

"I want to forget about her. Make me forget about her, Bass."

He seemed to understand that I needed something different from him this time. I didn't want soft and gentle. I wanted something else entirely.

We didn't waste time on foreplay. After a week apart, neither of us needed it. Bass placed his hands on my shoulders and nudged me over to a corner table. He unfastened my jeans and yanked them and my underwear down my legs. When they had pooled around my feet, he turned me to face away from him and pushed against my back until my chest was resting on the dusty surface of the old Formica. I heard his zipper and felt my need skyrocket. In moments he was stroking the head of his cock up and down my slippery slit. I arched toward him.

"Now." I begged.

He didn't argue, thrusting forward. His thick cock filled me with that one smooth surge. I moaned as he began to move, my body adjusting quickly to the now familiar invasion. He dug his fingers into my hips for leverage, slamming into me over and over. The fronts of my thighs were going to be bruised by the table. My pussy was going to ache later. Right then, none of that mattered.

I just wanted more.

Once again, Bass was in my head, fucking me exactly the way I wanted it. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed through the abandoned diner. The only other sounds were my cries and Bass's moans as he pounded me. Yes. This was what I needed. From the sounds of things, it is what he needed too.

His pace was becoming frantic. At the end my feet weren't even touching the floor anymore. He was using his upper body strength to hold me in place as he pistoned into me. He pulled me up roughly - my back was against his chest and his arms were around me when he came hard, filling me with his hot seed. He slowed and stopped, still buried deep.

From the new angle, he reached down and stroked my sensitive clit. As my gut began to fill with a coiled need for release, he leaned in and began to suck the side of my neck. The combination of sensations: his cock still in my pussy, his wet mouth on my throat, his clever fingers working magic on my clit… it was all too much. I came with a loud yell.

"Shhhh." He whispered against my ear. His fingers were still stroking me, but the touch was soft. He brought me down from my orgasm gently. When my breathing was back to normal, he extricated and tucked himself away before fastening his pants.

I was a shaky mess, so he helped me get decent as well.

"That was what I needed." I said as I moved into his embrace. He nodded, knowingly. We stood there like that for a long time, just holding each other. It was better than any conversation we possibly could have had.

December 22, 2029

It's almost Christmas which shouldn't matter. It's not like we celebrate it anymore. I do remember helping Dad and Maggie decorate a tree on our last year in Wisconsin. That was fun. I asked Aaron if he remembered that. He said yeah. That was all. He doesn't talk much these days. He's not like Mom was. He's not crazy or determined to starve himself to death.

He's just not the same.

This morning he said he's moving. I asked where. He said he wasn't sure yet, but that it would be 'somewhere else'.

I hope he changes his mind. I need him around here.

Bass said he got me something for Christmas. Now I need to get him something – just have to figure out the 'what'.

December 24, 2029

Tonight started out pretty great. I figured out what I'm getting Bass for Christmas. There is this peddler who comes through town from time to time. He was here yesterday. He had a bunch of clothes for sale. None of it was the kind of stuff I'd usually wear, but there was this blue nightgown thing. It's sheer and short. I haven't figured out exactly the when and where yet, but I think he's going to love it.

I was waiting for Bass at Marion's tonight but he didn't show. It was strange because he's never missed one of our pre-arranged meetings before. I waited for a while, but finally headed back to Grandpa's.

I heard them before I saw them. Miles and Bass were arguing. From the sounds of things, it had been going on for a while.

"I'm sorry, Miles. Shit. I just want you to come out of this funk you're in. That's all."

"This funk?" Miles sounded really pissed. "The woman I love just died. Excuse me if I take a few weeks to grieve."

"Like I said. I'm sorry." Bass sounded tired. "Just trying to help."

"Well, don't. We both know you hated her. So, right now it's a little difficult for me to buy that you are any kind of sorry about Rachel dying."

"You're right Miles. I'm not sorry – not for me. I won't miss her, but I'm sorry because I know you will miss her. I know Charlie will."

Miles didn't say anything, but I could hear him grumbling under his breath as he turned and walked toward the house.

"Don't walk away from me. Let's talk about this." Bass pleaded.

Miles whirled on him. "Why? What is there to talk about?"

"Damn it Miles. Why does she have to always come in the middle of our friendship? That bitch is dead and still she's driving a wedge between us."

From where I was standing behind the corner of the house, I could see Miles tense up. He took a few steps closer to Bass – staring him right in the eye. "Call her a bitch all you want to. We both know you didn't always think she was so bad."

"Miles." Bass's voice was low then, and there was a hint of warning in it.

"What? You didn't think I knew? Well, I did – you son of a bitch."

Bass was shaking his head jerkily, "It wasn't like that Miles. She must have told you that too?"

"Doesn't matter what it was like. What matters is that it happened at all. You crossed a line there, Bass. When I had her with me, I could sort of overlook it. Now she's gone, and when I see you – it's all I can think about. You betrayed me. You betrayed our friendship. Now give me some god-damned time." Miles turned then and stomped into the house. The door slammed shut behind him.

Bass was just standing there, staring after Miles. He was running his hand through his curls and then across his mouth. He looked haunted. Distressed.

As the conversation I'd heard began to sink in, I must have made a noise. Bass looked over at me and as soon as he saw my face, his crumpled. I guess my reaction was evident.

"Charlie. It's not what you think."

I felt like the world was closing in. My gut was churning and I was sure I was going to vomit. Bass and I have a million things going against us. The possibility that he could have ever been involved with my Mom? Well, that one had never even crossed my mind. Suddenly I felt like the biggest idiot. "You and my Mom? YOU AND MY MOM?"

"Charlie."

"Stop. I don't want to hear it. I can't believe I was so stupid. Was I just a stand in for HER? When we were together, were you wishing you were with my Mother?" my voice was all shaky and I felt light headed.

"Hell no. What you and I have is special. It's real. The other thing…it was one time and it meant nothing – "

"STOP TALKING." I yelled. "I can't take it."

"I'm so sorry. What can I do to fix this?" He walked to me and reached out but I pulled away like I'd been stung.

"I can't deal with this right now and you sure as hell can't touch me right now." I walked around him toward Grandpa's, "And I suggest you find a new place to stay."

I didn't slam the door, but I did throw the old dead bolt once I was inside. I leaned against the door and closed my eyes. Tears were welling and I swore my heart was actually breaking in my chest.

"So, you and Bass?" Miles was sitting in the dark with a bottle resting on his knee. "Should have seen that coming I guess. Shit."

"What you said out there?"

"I shouldn't have said anything, Charlie. I was out of line."

"Did they really…"

"I don't want to talk about that anymore, okay?"

"Well, then I should explain to you about Bass and I and –"

"No!" Miles took a really big drink. "I want to talk about THAT even less. Can we just sit here in the dark and drink until none of it matters anymore?"

"You have enough whiskey for that?"

"Probably not. Want to try?"

"Yes." I sat down beside him. "Yes I do."

Miles handed me a second bottle that had been stashed in his pocket. "Merry Christmas, Charlie…. Merry fucking Christmas."

A/N: Don't worry. You know stories of mine come with a happy Charloe ending...we'll get there. I promise.