Ties That Bind by Debbie White

night.
    Over take-out pizza and red wine – just like old times when we were hunkered around a coffee table, we discussed our next plan of attack.
    “I think we should look up her son,” Charles said in his best Magnum P.I. – Tom Selleck voice.
    I got a little tipsy on the wine. It did that to me sometimes, especially if I was stressed or overtired. I was both. I started to get a little playful with Charles.
     
    ***
     
    It had been a while since we’d been romantic. He took my lead very fast and soon we were kissing. His lips were warm, and the taste of pizza and wine just added to the heat I was already feeling. Soon we were breathing hard, and unlike our other lovemaking episodes, we didn’t retire to the bedroom to play it all out. Charles gently laid me back on the couch.
    He moved over me with such ease. It was hard to believe we weren’t young kids. He was so suave and debonair and knew just what to do with his hands. He gently caressed my skin, moving to parts of my body that left me tingling and wanting more. I was moving under him, slightly letting him know I wanted him. I softly whispered in his ear how much I loved him – his breathing egging me on. I softly kissed the inside of his ear causing him to let out a moan. Soon we were making love and it was better than when we were young.
    Spent from the lovemaking, we lie in each other’s arms and soon fell asleep.
    “Wake up, Charles. Let’s go to bed. We’re both going to wake up in the morning with cramps in places we didn’t know we could get cramps in,” I said rustling him up from the couch.
    He walked toward the bedroom half asleep, occasionally bumping into a wall. I picked up the pizza box and wine bottle and took them to the kitchen. I didn’t want to wake up to ants, or worse, cockroaches! I cleaned up the kitchen, and then joined him in our bed.
     
    ***
     
    The next morning, we acted like shy young lovers. It was hard to believe one could be so intimate with another person. We talked about our plans for the day over coffee. “With your permission, I’d like to contact James.”
    “Ok, that’s fine. Go ahead,” I said ready for the next step.
    We later both agreed it was too easy. James would not take our call, would not return our call, and soon we were back to square one.
    “So…Pat, what do you want to do? Teresa won’t talk to us, and neither will her son, James. That leaves Francis. He’s the only one who will.”
    Nodding my head, I agreed. He was our only link left. “Call him,” I said.
    We set the appointment up for later in the week. I wanted some time to check out some other prospects. We both agreed that a trip back to the farmhouse was in order as well. Maybe the lady of the house would have a change of heart.
     
    ***
     
    “ I know you said you didn’t know the Bowman’s at all,” Charles started off telling the woman who greeted us on the gravel driveway.
    “Yep, that’s right. I don’t know the Bowman’s,” she spat.
    “What about the Browns? Did you know anyone with that last name?” I probed.
    The lady just stared at the two of us.
    “How long has your family lived here?” I asked.
    “Listen, I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. I told you then, and I’m telling you now. I don’t know any Brown’s or Bowman’s!”
    I reached out and gently touched her arm as she was trying to escape the unpleasant conversation we were placing her in.
    “I’m not trying to stir up any trouble or bring up undesirable memories. I just want to find my family,” I pleaded.
    She stopped in her tracks. She paused a moment and turned to face me.
    “Come inside,” she said as she walked toward the front door.
    Charles and I looked at each other, no one had to invite us a second time. We followed her lead.
    The farmhouse hadn’t changed a whole lot since I was a kid. White kitchen cabinets, linoleum on the floor, and a large rock fireplace in the living room told the story of an old house