This is Part 2 of a two-part series. Please click here to read Part 1 first. It'll make more sense if you read them in order.

I began a new job in a completely different part of town. We only got thirty minutes for lunch so I quickly ran to the convenience store nearby. As I rounded one of the aisles there he was. There stood the milkman I never thought I'd see again. We both were surprised to see each other and awkwardly I let our brief time together slip by far too quickly for my liking. We said our "hello's" and, "wow, you look good" and his only reply was "I told you you'd never know when you'd see me again."

As quickly as he popped into my life that day, he popped out. Well, at least physically. This would have been the fall of 1983. For the next 13 years I fantasized about him. I always got the same flutterings in the pit of my stomach. It was a magical time, this time I spent lost in my imaginings of what things would be like with someone like him and how differently things might have been had we both continued to work together and see each other regularly.

By 1996, I was not the young woman I once I had been. After a lengthy first-hand experience with political corruption, I decided to do something about it and placed my name on the ballot for a county-wide political race against my boss of eight years. Not a popular move, but it was something I was compelled to do and have never regretted it. Having done this, I was now required to attend a meeting at the campaign headquarters so that I and my boss, along with other opposed candidates, could draw for ballot positions. Whose name would come first one the ballot? There are people who think that makes all the difference in the winner of the race. Maybe it does.

At this function, as I stood next to my boss and proceeded to the front of the room to draw numbers out of a hat, I saw him. There was the milkman, sitting at the end of a table next to his father. I had never made the connection until that moment. His father was the chairman of the political party. Our eyes locked in recognition, but I was in shock. I drew a 2. My name would come second on the ballot sheet. I sat down with thoughts racing through my head and a few flutters tickled my insides.

How does he do it? How is it that he suddenly pops up out of no where? Gawd, he looks as good as ever. I wonder if he remember who I am or if I just look familiar? I wonder if my husband sitting beside me suspects anything?

When the meeting was over my eyes scanned the room to see if he had already left. I took a moment to find him, but this time he came towards me and gave me a hug that let me know he did remember me. Again, there was a bit of awkwardness, mostly on my part, since my husband stood there wondering who this guy was. We spent only a few minutes catching up on who was doing what these days and said our goodbyes we me thinking I might see him a bit during the election and then that would be it again for another thirteen years.

I did see him once or twice during the election but we exchanged nothing more than a casual wave and a smile. Just enough to really keep the flutterings alive, really.

After losing the election, I was fired by the boss who wasn't too happy I had run against him. Imagine that?

I went on to work for a company that was undergoing some changes that ultimately led to me being allowed to work from home. They supplied the desk, the computer, the internet connection, etc. It was during this time that I discovered chatting online. Initially, I found a chatroom that had such a vast mixture of people. One minute I was talking to someone who drove a bus for handicaped adults in Australia, next to a guy who liked to snowboard who lived in Spain, to a woman who was an English teacher in Italy, and to a host of others. I found it terribly fascinating. I was hooked.

Eventually, I discovered chatting on Yahoo where I could talk to more local people. One day, a message popped up from a local male who wanted to chat. After talking for awhile, he asked if he could send me his photo. I didn't see why not. There had been nothing sexual in our discussion to lead me to think he'd send anything I might deem offensive.

I had dial-up at the time and it took his picture a bit to load. In those days it would begin to show up in rows starting from the top of the pictures. I sat there watching the photo download for what seemed like forever. There was the top of someone's head. Nice thick tossled hair appeared, followed by a forehead and the beginnings of eyebrows. I squirmed a bit in my chair as I spotted thick dark eyelashes and those familiar chocolate brown eyes.

Could it be? Surely, not! How? Why? Oh my gawd, it iS!

As the photo finished coming into view, there he was, my milkman from years ago. I was trembling as we typed the following:

Me: Is this David?

Him: Yes, have we met?

Me: Oh my gawd, yes. This is Karen. How on earth have you been?

Him: LOL.....how come we never had wild passionate sex?

Me: You never asked a second time.

We laughed and I spent the next hour revealing the fantasies I had had for this man for the past eighteen years at this point. He wasn't surprised. He had known what planting that seed would do to me. I told him how his words "you never know when I'll pop up" always haunted me. He simply laughed. The devil's like that, you know.

The work-from-home job fizzled when the company decided it would be more beneficial to them if I made the 2-hour drive one-way to come in to work now that they had moved the corporate headquarters. First, it was one day a week, then two, then three and finally I agreed to four and no more. I did that for a couple of years. I finally got tired of the travel, leaving in the dark, coming home in the dark, wrecks everywhere. I wanted the simplicity of the town I was used to working in. I changed jobs, yet again.

As it turns out, this new job put me in the heart of the city where all things are easily accessible on a lunch hour. David contacted me via email and asked how I'd been. Things had been rocky with my husband and I and we had talked about filing for divorce, but hadn't done so yet. David said he was now a real estate agent and wondered if I was looking for a house. I told him I was not, but he still wanted to meet and it just so happened that one of the houses listed with him was just down the street from where I worked. We arranged to meet the next day.

I was filled with the flutterings of giddiness wondering what this meeting might hold. Of course, I was much older now and certainly knew the implications of what this meeting meant. But, I felt prepared for it. This fantasy was like a bottle of wine, vintage 1982.

I arrived at the empty house within minutes of leaving work. He was already there waiting on me, looking and smelling fantastic. The flutterings began the moment I saw him. He kissed me softly and thanked me for agreeing to meet.

Can he tell that I'm nervous? Did I wear the right thing? What do I do now? What have I done? Oh my gawd, this feels wrong, but oh my gawd, this is the day I've dreamt about for so long.

He looked down at the hearth around the fireplace in this empty living room and asked me how that looked for a suitable place for wild passionate sex. I replied, "it looks a bit low to me". He then took my hand to the beautiful kitchen where he pointed to the granite countertops and the window overlooking the tree-filled yard. "How about here?, to which I replied, "They look about right".

I can only imagine what you're thinking at this moment, both about me and about what you imagine happened next. I'm sure some of you would love to hear that I had the most explosive orgasms of my life or that he far exceeded the fantasy.

What happened next, was both private and tender. No, what we did couldn't be considered making love, since there was no real love between us. Nor did we ravage each other in wild passionate sex as I always imagined we would.

What we did in that vacant house was quite simple.

Best of all, it was a fitting end to 20+ years of wondering.

Not long after our rendezvous at the vacant house, he called me. He wanted to share something funny that he thought I'd appreciate. A colleague of his had spotted David's vehicle at the house. He mentioned to David "hey I spotted your vehicle on Webb Street, did they like the house?" since he assumed David must have been showing the property. Without missing a beat, David replied, "she said the fireplace hearth was too low, but the kitchen counter was just right".

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It's been another couple of years and I haven't seen him again. I'm divorced and remarried. It was just last night that I told my current husband this story as we sat outside beneath a full moon. It was his suggestion that I write these two hubs. I hope you enjoyed it.