Bittersweets: Brenda and Larry

By Suzanne Jenkins

A trip to the emergency room leads to a whirlwind romance for Philadelphia law student Brenda and ER physician Larry. Head over heels in love with Brenda, nothing can disturb the love he has for her, not even a dark secret from her past.

Brenda joins her friend, Terry Kovac at Philadelphia's leading criminal defense firm where her boss makes demands on Brenda that she is happy to meet. But in the end, Larry is the only man she wants.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suzanne Jenkins
• Release date: Jul 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215853214

Suzanne Jenkins

A retired operating room nurse, Jenkins lives in Southern California.

Book preview

167

I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as

if we had never married at all.  Lord Byron

Bittersweets

Brenda Loves Larry

a Steamy Romance

by

Suzanne Jenkins

Copyright © 2019 by

Suzanne Jenkins. All rights reserved.

Created in digital format in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations in blog posts and articles and in reviews.

Bittersweets-Brenda Loves Larry-a Steamy Romance is a complete and total work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Where familiar places are mentioned, it is in a completely fictitious manner.

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Praise for Suzanne Jenkins

Author Suzanne Jenkins never disappoints me. She is the master of whichever genre she chooses. The book had me sobbing, laughing and giggling throughout.

I love everything Suzanne writes. I can't wait to get my hands on her next one. Thank you Suzanne Jenkins.

Re: Pam of Babylon- I cannot live without Pam. Reviewer Cristy

Bio

USA Today Bestselling Author Suzanne Jenkins writes page-turning contemporary romance, mystery, and women's fiction with passionately gripping characters that stay with readers long after they turn the last page. The Detroit Detective Stories, beginning with The Greeks of Beaubien Street are a reflection of American fantasy with historical reality. Pam of Babylon books consistently rank in the Top 100 Best Sellers in American Drama with over 750,000 downloads.

Chapter 1

The podium was angled so that not only did the audience get the full view of the speaker, but out from under the protection of the canopy, the relentless sun beat down on her mortarboard, bored into her eyes, and generally roasted her. It was good practice for the courtroom, she mumbled to herself when she stepped off the stage to thunderous applause. Sweat dropped off her chin, carrying Cover Girl liquid makeup along with it, staining the front of her graduation gown, forever immortalizing pictures of her on that special day, and there were plenty, including a full page spread in the Philadelphia Inquirer.

The oldest child from a large, Catholic family, Brenda Lipinski’s graduation from Saint Joseph’s University had made her mother and father so happy, and so proud. Both had carried small packages of tissues for the past week because they were apt to burst into tears when talking about the accomplishment of their successful daughter.

I can’t wait until it’s over, Brenda’s brother Pete had whined that morning. None of us will be able to top this, you realize that, don’t you?

He was standing in the doorway of the single bathroom of their family’s west Philadelphia row home, watching her prepare for her big moment.

What? Brenda asked, outlining her lips. You can be the valedictorian of your class, too. Keep up the good work.

I graduate next year, he replied. They’ve never had siblings follow each other, even if they were at the top of their class.

You can do it, Pete, she said, grabbing him by the shoulders to move him. Can I have some privacy?

Ten people in a three-bedroom row house with one bathroom taught early cooperation.

Hurry, he said. I have to go.

I’ll be right out, she promised.

Before they left in the family van for the ceremony, Brenda prepared for a quick post graduation rendezvous with her friend and client, fellow political science major, Al Fallbrook, and others. Digging through her makeup bag, she pulled the compact holding her diaphragm out, opened it and looked at it carefully, filling it with water, watching the door in case someone burst in on her; the lock had been removed years before. She dried it off and put a thick layer of spermicide in it and then folded it up. Pulling her underpants down with her free hand, she fumbled around to get the right angle, and stuck it into place, reaching her fingers up as high as possible to make sure she’d be safe, preparing for goodbye business transactions.

Hurry up in there, Ray Lipinski shouted.

Dad, cut me a break! Brenda cried, stuffing everything back in the bag and washing her hands.

Lastly, she lifted her foot up to flush the toilet, and then opened the door.

Sorry, she said. I went as fast as I could.

You’re not the only one who has to go, you know, he said.

The battle cry of the rushed toilet experience at the Lipinskis, they’d finally resorted to buying a camping toilet, but it sat on the ground and was too low for the men to use.

We’re going to be late if you don’t get the lead out, Ray said, looking at her suspiciously. You weren’t smoking in there, were you?

Right, Dad, she said, blowing minty breath out at him. She might be graduating from college and going on to law school, but she was still Ray Lipinski’s kid.

Estelle Dumont Lipinski stood in the narrow hallway, wringing her hands, whining about the time. Ma, chill out. You’re making all of us nervous, brother Pete warned.

Currently, there were four Lipinskis attending Saint Joe’s, all on full paid scholarships via Ray’s tenured professorship. Whenever anyone complained about school, his standard answer; I was offered a post at Temple, you know.

I hate this last minute stuff, Estelle replied. Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting in the van.

The Lipinskis’ rust-colored van with three bench seats to accommodate the big family was a neighborhood novelty, the back cargo doors tied shut with bungee cords not the only evidence of its age. The muffler was shot, so everyone in a three-block area was alerted when the family had someplace to go together.

Since I’m the one graduating, maybe I should have had the bathroom first, Brenda said, wagging her finger.

Yes, well… Estelle said, shrugging her shoulders.

Do you want to drive with me? Pete whispered to Brenda, the arrival of the Lipinski van at any school function embarrassing for him.

No, you go ahead, Brenda said, giggling. I’ll go with the folks.

Brenda had evolved beyond any concerns about appearances defining her. Smart and confident from birth practically, nothing seemed to bother her. That would come later.

Now that her speech was over, the next hours flew by in a confusing mélange of emotional goodwill, saying goodbye, making small talk with her old professors, and last but not least, Al Fallbrook and the others.

Do you have a minute? he asked, holding on to her arm.

A pre-law student from New Jersey, Al Fallbrook was headed to Michigan for law school, and he was leaving that week to get settled in an apartment and find a job.

I’ll say goodbye to my family, she said. Wait here.

Ray and Estelle waited for Brenda with the younger children, the whole family reeling with pride after watching their beautiful daughter make her valedictorian speech.

Sissy’s smart, isn’t she? the youngest, ten-year-old Audrey asked. Smart and beautiful.

That she is, Ray said, wiping a tear away. She’ll go far, Brenda will.

All my children are smart and beautiful, Estelle said. "Here she comes.

Walking toward them, her cap in hand, gown fluttering open, Brenda took her mother’s breath away. How did I have such a ravishing creature? she wondered. Knowing that human being had come out of her own body made Estelle feel more beautiful and smarter, so she stood up straighter, and exuded the same confidence she wanted all her children to have.

We’re taking off, Ray said. Can you get a ride home?

I can, Brenda said. There are a hundred parties happening, so don’t expect me home anytime soon.

Okay, well, don’t get in a car with anyone who’s been drinking, Estelle said.

No drugs or alcohol, period, Ray added.

Yes, parents, she said, smiling.

While the family loaded into the old van, Brenda slipped her graduation gown off and threw it in the back. I’ll hang on to my mortarboard so they know I’m a graduate.

Standing back, she waved watching them pull away. Once they were out of sight, she walked back to find Al Fallbrook, who’d be waiting patiently. She was in charge of their friendship.

Sure enough, he was leaning against the light post outside his dorm. Students had moved out the day before, but they still had keys. The crowds had thinned, most of the graduates having lunch with family members, or in groups, preparing to party for the rest of the weekend. Brenda had business to take care of first.

Are you ready? Al said, reaching his hand out for her.

Ready, she said, taking his hand.

Entering the dorm building, it smelled like dirty socks and chalk. I’m glad I was able to live at home, she said. This is gross.

It was worse, remember, he said. My room smells like a brewery.

They climbed the staircase together. Approaching his room, he got the key out and inserted it in the lock, turning the handle and stepping aside so she could pass by.

You can sit over there, she said, pointing to a desk chair.

He did as she said, knowing that the bare mattress would be off-limits. Without speaking, she waited until he was seated and then started slowly undressing. Under her gown she had worn a summer top and shorts because of the heat. Dragging out a striptease as long as possible, doing a little bump and grind while the top came off, she then turned her back to him to pull her shorts off. When they were down around her ankles, she kicked them out of the way, and turned around to see what he was doing. Flushed and glassy eyed, he was enjoying the show.

Making a swirling motion with her finger, she paused. Take it out, Al.

He unzipped and pulled out. Backing up to him, she waved her rear end over it just for effect, and then knelt down in front of him, slipped a condom over it, and took it in her mouth for a bit.

Okay, stop, he said, squeaking.

She did, and turned around again, sitting on him. It didn’t take him long. The diaphragm might have been overkill, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

Going through the motions, petting him, telling him how great it was, all the while slipping her shorts back on. She never took her bra or panties off, working around them.

He got up to go to the bathroom while she waited in the bedroom. When he came out, still flushed and smiling, she held her hand out.

I’m really going to miss you, he said, taking his wallet out.

Counting out five twenty-dollar bills, he handed them over. Then, he took another ten and passed that over, too.

Why thank you, Al! I appreciate it, Brenda said.

I’m really going to miss you, he repeated, knowing how lucky he was to have a friend like her. You’ve been a good friend.

You’ll meet women in Michigan, she said, buttoning her shorts. Let’s get out of here. Are you heading over to the quadrangle? I’m starving.

I’ll walk over with you, he said. I’m supposed to meet some friends to head out to Bryn Mawr for a party. You can come along if you want.

Brenda had a few hours of moneymaking time left on campus and she planned to put it to good use. Her job at the diner was not going to be enough to sustain her, but she wasn’t about to start turning tricks at Penn. No, she’d make hay while the sun shone. The customers she had who were staying in Philadelphia would still be around, but it wouldn’t be constant like it was at St. Joe’s.

Aw, you’re so sweet Al, but I promised my folks I’d be home for the get-together they’ve planned. You know how it is, family obligations.

At least your family is celebrating with you, he said. Mine couldn’t wait to get home.

Well, now you’re free to go to a party, she said. Oh look, tacos!

They’d arrived at the quadrangle and food tables were set up with a few people arriving to eat, most having plans to go out for a meal or hurrying to get home to set up for their parties. Grabbing a plate, Brenda served herself a healthy portion, not worrying about her weight like most women. She worked so hard, every calorie she took in burned off in no time.

Standing off to the side, people-watching while she ate, Al stood next to her, feeling sad and protective, knowing he was probably cramping her style, but wishing she didn’t have to spread herself so thin.

I’ll miss you, he repeated.

Al, you’ll be fine, she said. When you’re home, get in touch.

Pulling his wallet out again, he retrieved her business card – Brenda Lipinski – 215-555 -1212.

Will you keep this number? he asked.

Of course, she said. That’s my cell phone.

Are you going to commute? he asked. I mean you’re not that far.

It’s five miles from my house to Penn Law, she said, laughing.