Charity begins at home Part 1
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Charity Begins Next DoorChapter 6 free porn video
I woke abruptly, confused. I was alone in a strange bed, the covers pulled up to my chin. Daylight was streaming in the window, and I sat up, disoriented. It took a few seconds for me to recall the previous evening, and I looked around for Sandy. I started to get out of bed, and realized I was naked, my clothes were still somewhere downstairs. I pulled the covers over my waist, and looked around for something to cover up with, before spotting my clothing from the night before folded on a chair nearby.
I pulled on my shorts and ducked into the bathroom for a much needed leak. I splashed some water on my face and borrowed her brush to run it through my wild hair. I took a swig of mouthwash and did my best to look partially human before heading back to the bedroom. I was pulling on my sweats when Sandy appeared with a cup of coffee. It smelled delicious.
She smiled and passed it to me. She was dressed in pajamas, and had clearly showered and cleaned up. Her hair was still moist. "Hurry up. There's a little girl downstairs almost bursting with the need to open her presents."
I took a sip of the coffee, hot and strong, then passed it back to her for a second while I pulled on my shirt. I straightened it out and retrieved my coffee for another sip.
She was watching me intently, a sad little smile on her face.
I started to speak but she cut me off.
"No. Let's not talk about it right now. It was something we both needed, but it doesn't have to mean anything. It just happened. I don't regret it. Right now we need to go downstairs."
I moved to her and grabbed her chin. I saw she was nervous and wondered if she'd practiced that little speech. I leaned over and kissed her softly, continuing until she responded.
"I just want to say you are incredible. Really."
"So you keep saying," she teased.
"What is Erica going to think?"
"I told her you had a sleepover. She probably has a good idea what that means, kids are so precocious these days, but she seemed alright with it."
"Shit. I feel like a jerk, spoiling her Christmas with you."
She hit me, her little fist landing solidly on my chest, almost making me spill my coffee. "Shut up. It's because of you that she's having a Christmas worth mentioning at all."
She turned and headed downstairs, and I had to pull my eyes away from her cute little butt, before I had a physical response that would be almost too much to bear. I realized she was walking tentatively, and wondered if she was as sore as I was this morning. Probably. Maybe more so.
We headed straight for the living room, and sat back on the couch about a foot apart while Erica waited for us, standing beside the presents almost shaking. She watched her mother anxiously, glancing my way long enough for a quick smile. When her mother nodded she dove into the presents grabbing the closest and tearing it open.
She oohed and aahed over each new gift, while the pile of unwrapped ones grew smaller and an ever growing field of toys gradually overtook the room.
She shrieked and jumped up and down when she opened the iPod touch, pulling off the $50 iTunes gift certificate. She'd been pretty quiet up until then but she climbed over to her mother and gave her a big hug.
"He knew, Momma, he knew!" she shrieked in joy, stopping her present opening to crack open the iPod box and pull it out, looking it over, holding it reverently in her hands.
I felt a warm hand settle onto mine, giving a soft squeeze. I turned my wrist and held her hand in mine, interlocking our fingers. I looked over to Sandy, and saw the tears in her eyes. With a sniffle she carefully brushed them away.
As usual, the new clothing received short shrift, being tossed into a growing pile, but she did look each one over, holding it up against her body, asking her mother's opinion on several items before moving on.
I listened to Sandy laugh at her daughter's antics, and thought it was the most beautiful sound I had heard in ages.
Erica was about halfway through the gifts. I watched her reach for a big box, and I gave her mother's hand a squeeze. "Maybe that one should be last," I whispered.
"Erica, darling, that one's from Mr. Reed. Why don't you open it last?"
Erica looked up, her surprise matching my own. She moved it to the side and continued her quest to eliminate the pile of wrapped presents.
The small purse with five $10 bills was another big hit, as were the rollerblades, each calling for another shriek and a visit to her mother's lap, bringing forth more giggles and laughter from the woman beside me. Sandy was smiling hugely, taking the wrapping paper from her daughter and filling a garbage bag with it as we went.
I was torn. Each gift I'd so carefully picked out for my girls was disappearing. I couldn't help but think about how I should be spending my Christmas, if I hadn't received such a kick in the teeth from fate. A couple of times I felt myself tearing up, my breath catching in my chest. Sandy moved closer, her leg pressed against mine, holding my hand in both of hers, tightly, in her lap.
Then I would see the joy on young Erica's face, and I'd wipe the tears away, taking a deep breath, knowing that it was what my daughter's would have wanted. Their hearts had been as big as the world.
I felt Sandy's head lean into my shoulder, and I gave her hand another squeeze.
Finally the presents ran out. There were two gifts remaining. The one that had been there on that first day, which seemed so long ago but had only been three days earlier, and the big one.
She looked over at us, then starting peeling away the paper off of her mother's present. There was a book sized jewelry box inside, and she opened it shrieking. "Grandma's necklace?" she asked in voice barely above a whisper.
"You always liked it," Sandy said.
Erica came over and sat between her mother's legs, lifting her hair up out of the way so her mother could attach the chain behind her neck. I could now see it was an old-fashioned locket and Erica was clutching at it like she'd never let it go. Sandy finally got the chain latched, and gave her a little shove.
Erica stood up and ran to the mirror, looking at herself. She came and stood in front of us, striking several poses. It was so damned cute. I couldn't help but laugh.
That got Sandy's attention, and she giggled as well, cuddling up next to me and pulling my arm around her shoulders.
We watched Erica go to the last big box, glancing back at us as if waiting for permission.
"Go on," I teased, "you can't stop now!"
She grabbed the edge of the wrapping paper, and tore into it. She ripped large chunks of paper off, tossing them toward her mother, before suddenly coming to a complete stop. She screamed out, stood up and danced in place. I'd never seen anybody so excited. She bent over and tore the paper away roughly exposing the PS3 and the piles of games taped to the top.
"Mom! Mom! It's a PS3!" she cried out, bending over and lifting the box, twirling around with it, before stumbling and dropping it to the floor.
Sandy laughed, "Careful! You don't want to break it before you get a chance to use it."
Erica scrambled across the coffee table between us and launched herself into my lap. She gave me a huge hug, squeezing me so hard I thought she might break something.
I felt her breath against my ear. "Thank you, Santa." I felt her soft lips press against my cheek, bringing a tear to my eye.
I hugged her to me. "I hope you enjoy your present." I could feel the tears welling up, threatening to overflow, and I clung to her for a few seconds. "Go on now, open it up."
She jumped up and started tearing at the box, peeling off the games, instantly separating them into piles. So much like her mother. I felt Sandy shifting on the couch next to me, and I turned toward her, just as her arms wrapped around me. She kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you."
I hugged her. "I should be thanking you. I never thought I could enjoy Christmas again."
She smiled. "That would be horrible," she said softly, "if Santa couldn't enjoy Christmas."
I thought we were finally done, but Erica went behind the tree and returned with two gifts wrapped in newspaper comics. She gave her mother one, and gave me the other.
Sandy and I looked at each other, then she opened her gift. Inside was a hand-made ornament, a picture of their little family, Sandy, Erica, and the missing father, smiling as if everything was perfect in the world. The picture was framed in popsicle sticks, with pipe-cleaners glued to it. It was too cute for words.
Brandy
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