Experiencing heartache and disappointment on the career front.
Experiencing so much love and wonderfulness in family arena (enough to out-shine the Bullshit that goes along with families).
The creative writing is here and there and everywhere. Got all wrapped up in family trees, which may be a terrible detour for me, or may lead to some interesting secrets and side stories.
Interesting side note: I am craving cunnilingus. Yeah. Giving it. Receiving it is awesomesauce, and I'm certainly not turning that down, but lately I've been wanting to go down to the delta and worship. So that is likely to manifest in some writing ere long, as i don't have a girlfriend--lol.
Hanging out with the fam last night was so much fun! I have missed Eric like crazy, and now he's back and he's a grown up (well, 21), so he's super confident and mature and as hilarious as ever. And its fun to have another geek around to encourage our gaming interests or sci-fi addiction and all that.
I made a yummy and easy dinner last night, which served as a pretty good transition into the vegetarian household for him 'i think. English muffin pizzas! On about half of them I uses this garlic & white bean puree as the sauce instead of the traditional tomato, and it was fucking YUM CITY!! And seriously? It was a can of white beand pureed up with garlic, a little olive oil and a little melted butter (which is actually just butter flavored vegetable oil since we buy heart healthy smart balance instead of real butter)- just enough to help the magic bullet better puree (it needs moisture or it just will not cooperate!). So flipping delish. I encourage you all to try it. shout out to adam pigeon for that little gem of a recipe idea!
Aaron has been peculiar for the past few days though, and no matter how I probe or coddle or come at it sideways I can't seem to unlock the mystery. Which is unusual, because we tell eachother everything, always. He keeps telling me that everything is ok, that he's just tired and a little weirded out about going back to work after so much time off, but I gotta tell you, my ghut is giving me a funny tickle; I think there's something else.
He's been surprisingly aloof when Eric is around. Not like, aloof to me and chummy with Eric, but aloof and withdrawn from both of us. Eric came home yesterday afternoon, and we hadn't seen him for days because he was so busy with friends, and I was super psyched to sit and chat and joke and catch-up, but aaron seemed to be content to sit with his Lenovo, playing games in an almost trance! It's like: Hello!!?? Your brother, one of your best friends ever in the world, is finally back for the first time in two fucking years and you'd rather sit there and play puzzle games and completely check-out? It was weird.
I'm stumped. I have a few ideas, but nothing really solid or even likely. I hope he's ok. I miss him, you know? even though he's been physically present for the past few days, I almost feel as though i haven't seen him.
Maybe when the students come back he'll get back into his groove and feel more himself. I certainly hope so.
Meanwhile, Danielle, the angel, has dropped off some Sookie Stackhouse books for my reading pleasure! So awesomepants I can hardly stand it! I hate to keep a good book waiting, so let me hop off for now. I'll keep you updated!
Ciao.
Oh, wait, one more fucking thing. Remember the sidenote about cunnilingus? In addition, I'd also like to lick, kiss, nuzzle, suckle, motorboat and generally just worship on some beautiful breasts. So, my current obsession?
Yup. I would do anything she wanted me to do. goddamn. What a fabulous gift from heaven, is this woman. Oh Joan.
Do an image search for christina hendricks. Just do it. a goddess. Curvy, delectible, divine, and red hair to boot? It's like she was made just for me. sigh.
It isn't a real day with students, but it is back to work nonetheless.
Yay!
I have a few more apps to get out there, which I'mma do right after this.
How are those fingers? still crossed?
This is the first time i've had the house completely to myself in months!!!
Feels kinda nice.
I mean, technically Eric could just show up anytime, but he's a 21 year old boy with no responsibilities at present and a friend's mom who seems to be pampering and feeding him, so i don't expect the boy to be awake this early, let alone ambulatory or ambitious about commuting back here.
So i think i'll enjoy my toast and oj, enjoy my tea, print out all the stuff for my job packets, and then get myself ready to go out! Woot.
Congrats and best wishes to all those going back to school this week and next week-- be it as students or teachers. School is the best.
Since I've decided to try and keep progressing with the maggie\grey storyline in order as much as possible, things will often get more linear than maybe they have been in the past. I'll probably still jump wayyy back in time because of all the stuff that went down back in the day that is still shrouded in mystery, and I'll jump around to different storylines of course, like a soap, but mostly we're trudging forward on the path to avalon's wedding and the thrilling aftermath because there's alot in store for our beloved residents of Cedar Falls, USA (wink wink to Danielle:)
So. Another family dinner, you say? yeah. sorry. Velvet likes to throw parties.
This is the first little snippet from the big Delaney meet & greet for Maggie. I'm trying to keep them short and -well, not sweet, but scrumptious?
Shrug. Sigh. Whatevs.
Enjoy.
"This is going to be a long night"
*******************
Zahra’s husband was tense. He was doing his best to behave as if nothing was bothering him, but she knew him better than that. He was never short with the children, not even when he was agitated, but tonight he was, well, not short precisely, but, distracted?
“Then also can I please have a baby unicorn?” It was the third outlandish and impossible item Lola had asked to be added to her ever-lengthening birthday wish list.
And he’d nodded absently. “Sure thing baby.”
Zahra narrowed her brows as her daughter squealed with glee in the back seat.
“What?!” Shrieked Keer, scandalized. “Daddy, she can’t have a baby unicorn!” Their eldest protested hotly.
“Yes I can!” Countered Lola’s piping little voice. “Daddy said!”
“Daddy, can I have a Pegasus?” Ajay queried, sensing this to be a good opportunity to ask for mythical beasts.
“We’ll see.” Nolan responded calmly.
Zahra heard Keer groan exasperatedly in the back. “No Ajay, you can’t even have one because there’s no such thing!” She was in a very literal phase at the moment and had little tolerance for all things magical or fanciful.
“If Lola gets to have a unicorn then I can too have a Pegasus.” Ajay reasoned, and Zahra could imagine the glower he was giving his older sister.
“Yeah, you can have one.” Agreed Lola generously.
“They don’t exist!” exclaimed Keer, ready to explode.
“Nolan?” Zahra asked him quietly, under the bickering in the backseat.
“Hm? He responded vaguely, hitting the blinker and turning into the posh residential neighborhood of Cedar Crest.
“You ok?”
“Sure. ‘Course.”
“Daddy, don’t they exist?!?!” Ajay demanded from the back.
“Of course they do.” His father replied dispassionately.
“Mom!” Keer countered.
Zahra sighed. “I’m not sure we have room in the house for a Pegasus, or a unicorn for that matter.” She replied diplomatically. This answer caused Lola to wail, Ajay to grumble and Keer to tisk with a great deal of attitude. “They’re really much happier when they get to roam free, guys.” She told them gently. “Besides, what ever do they eat?”
“Skittles.” Lola responded readily. “And stardust too I think.”
“I think Pegasus eats dragonflies. And carrots.” Ajay said thoughtfully.
“They don’t eat anything because they AREN’T REAL!” Keer shouted.
“Keer, watch the volume please.” Her father said, not hearing what she’d said, only seeming to register the tone and size of it.
“This is ridiculous.” She spat.
Zahra rolled her eyes and allowed them to bicker further about skittles and myth while she watched her husband’s profile. He was scowling at the road in front of them.
They were on their way to his brother’s for a big family dinner. They were going to be introduced to Grey’s new bride.
News of the elopement had surprised Zahra. “I thought they broke up?” She’d asked her husband that evening a week or so ago when he’d come home and told her about their nephew’s out-of-the-blue marriage to one of his employees.
“They did.” He’d answered, sounding irritable and uptight. “I’ll have to be at the shop more this week—Velvet arranged a honeymoon for them I guess, and she needs the week off.”
Zahra had stared at him curiously. “You’re not happy about this.”
“No.” He’d answered as he’d slipped off his shoes and begun unbuttoning his shirt.
“How come?” She’d moved to him and begun to knead at some of the tension bunching his shoulders.
“Nnnnnn. That’s good.” He’d moaned. “Because she’s a nice girl and he’s an asshole.”
She’d smacked him lightly on the back. “That’s your nephew!”
“Yeah, that’s how I know he’s no good for her.”
Zahra had kissed him where his collar met his skin and felt him sigh. “Who are we to judge where love strikes?” She’d asked gently.
“It wasn’t love that struck Zee, it was his—something else.” He’s spun under her hands to face her and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead while pulling her body to his. “I’m pretty certain she’s pregnant.”
“Oh.” Zahra’d responded. “Well.”
“Yeah.”
“Do people still do that anymore? Get married because of that?”
“She comes from a pretty strict Catholic upbringing, from what I can tell.” He’d responded, sounding drained and leaden. He’d been in a sour mood all that night. His face and body coiled and stretched just a bit too thin, his conversation vague, his mind preoccupied, his stormy eyes dustant and unreadable. Not at all unlike this evening.
“Plus, besides, Daddy already said I was a princess and a princess neeeeeeds a unicorn or else!” Lola’s tiny voice had a great deal of power behind it, and the decibel and pitch of it was cutting right into Zahra’s skull.
“Ok, listen up guys.” Zahra said in her all-business tone, turning around in her seat and fixing them each with a warning stare one by one. Three pairs of eyes looked up at her expectantly. Nolan was turning the van into the driveway. “I want you all on your very best behavior.” They all nodded solemnly. “I mean it.” She cautioned. “No more bickering, no more arguing, no more yelling or annoying eachother—or anyone else either. Got that?”
They cast sideways glances at one another and eventually all three nodded or mumbled agreement.
“We’re meeting a new member of the family tonight, like Daddy told you, and you all know about first impressions.”
“I met her already!” Gloated Lola jubilantly.
“That’s true, but you still need to be on your best behavior.” Her mother explained.
“She’s nice.” The girl assessed with finality. “And pretty.” She added.
Zahra raised her eyebrows. “Have I got everyone’s word?” She asked them all.
A chorus of yeses sounded from the back as she turned to her husband. He was staring blankly at the big house, patiently waiting until she’d finished her riot act.
“You ready?” she asked him.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Yup.”
Zahra bit down a snappish comment and recognized that it was going to be a very long evening.
(none of it is houseguest related--surprising, right?)
sex
writing
jobsearch
vegetarianism
frienships
sex
writing
jobsearch
money
money
bills
sex
diet
excercise
writing
family
jobsearch
and at this moment? especially?
sex+writing+jobsearch = bad fucking mood.
Yeah.
Nothing like going to take a nice sexy shower to get yourself ready for a super fun night (since your houseguest is spending the night at a friend's) and then finding your man asleep on the couch when you're done. Fun fun. too much ikea furniture building I guess.
Oh well. His loss. He was gunna get his favorite tonight. Wamp, wamp. Snooze you lose, right?
Eric is up from Florida and it had been so greta to see my baby brother again! Only he's 21 now, super tall, deep voice, he's not my 'baby' anything anymore! lol.
And he's really self assured and funny and fun and I have missed him alot.
I'm actually still kinda missing him because he's basically been out with his friends since the night he came back! He's a young guy who hasn't seen his friends in 2 years, so, I get it.
also? It meant aaron and I could still be naked and do things last night and tonight, soooooooo.... YAY!
Aaron got fed up with the computer on a foldaway table after about three minutes, so we spent a good amount of time at IKEA yeaterday choosing a new desk! And, of course, it being college season, which one employee told us was "Like our version of christmas" there at the swedish furniture superstore, the item was out of stock on the warehouse floor. After all that time and effort we had to go home frustratingly empty handed.
BUT! we got our asses up early, went early (like we had to wait in line for them to open, we were there right away!), and we successfully located all pieces and got our asses out of there and home to build!
We also got cinnamon buns because we hadn't had breakfast and they smelled so seductive. They didn't disappoint. those were the yummiest empty calories I have had in a while!
I just adore IKEA. i only wish their meatballs were 'neat'balls instead. carniverous swedes.
So anyway, the desk is BEAST! pics to follow sometime.
Love always, and will keep ya posted,
Beth.
Oh, last night was our first night on a new mattress (just a cheapo building 19 one, nothing special) since, um, ever! And we were back to our old loft bed that aaron built for the studio apartment. Trippy. The loft bed is much improved in the new aparment with its soaring ceilings! We sould do any position we want! He could bend me over the top of the living room wall if he wanted! woot! fun stuff. maybe that'll be tonight... lol.
Holy good god am I ever sick of cleaning. however. I am always super-de-duper pleased with the results. We still have a few things to do before eric arrives tomorrow, but we don't expect him in the AM or anything, so i think we'll have time to take out the trash, throw a few things in the basement, change the reeking litter box, and wipe down every surface in the goddamn bathroom. I am actually super good at cleaning bathrooms. I usually prefer to do them in the wee hours of the morning, like now, but unless I catch a second wind I don't see that happening before bed.
We also have a couple muffin pans that we discovered hiding in a lower cabinet that I must have shoved there to hide them some time-- they have remnant food crusted-but thankfully not molded- in them, so those muffin bitches need to soak overnight! lol.
But wanna know what? i had a really wonderful afternoon with my husband. We decided to go out to one of our favorite places-- Coriander Indian Bistro in sharon center. Oh my lord, was it ever satisfying! Perfection. yum yum yum yum yum.
And then we hopped a couple doors down to French Memories and picked up the best pastries ever for dessert-- Almond croissants from the little french bakery. we were wayyy too full from indian to eat them just then, so we took them home and savored them later with tea and cuddles.
Also, i got to take a nice long nap in the afternoon sun on my couch. I fell asleep full and contented and with a smile on my lips. I felt warm and soft all the way down to my toes when aaron woke me up with kisses. Yay.
then he let me write for like an hour before we had to finally get back to the business of cleaning for our visitor. And I love-and-a-half the scene that popped out of my fingers! Hadn't planned it, hadn't even thought about a scene like this one before, but suddenly there it was! You won't get to read it for a while though because it takes place close to avalon's wedding, so we got some time yet; we have a bunch of Maggie & Grey growing pains to experience before we fast-forward to the big wedding.
I could just purr.
I wish we didn't have to go back to work ever. Oh, and I wish I had a job. For now it looks like subbing again and I'm going to have to try and get a part-time job as well. nights and weekends. i'll never see my husband, friends, or family, but I guess that's how it goes whenm you're a grown up, right?
Meh. I don't want to think about that right now. I want to focus on the wonderfullness. I'mma go hop in the shower and then take advantage of our last night alone together before houseguest! Connubial Bliss awaits!
Have spent much of the day cleaning and reorganizing for the imminent arrival of our indefinite houseguest, My brother-in-law, aaron's brother eric.
I love eric and am excited to see him again.
And i really want to be able to open our home to him. because that's what family does for eachother.
There was this whole big debacle over at aaron's grandmother's house before he left for florida, a big fiasco that still rankles and burns me up, so yes, yes I am more than happy to have a place to offer my brother.
Because that's what a family does.
Anywho. Rearranging is exhausting. Plus this apartment is really not ideal for more than a couple to inhabit. And I don't mean a couple as in quantity, I mean a married or intimate couple. None of these walls, save the bathroom, actually go to the cieling. It's one big open concept kind of this really. And it is my favorite place in the world. But I am wondering how comfortable eric will feel living here with so little privacy.
I am also, frankly, wondering how aaron and I will manage to 'have intimacy'. You know how they use that term to be all clinical. lol.
i think we'll manage intimacy just fine, it's the fucking I'm worried about! Sheesh. We have enough privacy to cuddle and maybe even get away with fellatio, but everything else? I'm a little stumped.
We'll see. you may well get a whole slew of blogs rife with sexual frustration in the coming weeks and months, so be prepared! lol.
Oh, and still no job. fun fun. and i got a call from my brother letting me know he'd paid one of my school loan bills since it was crazy overdue and they musty have been calling him (co-signer). awesome right? I'm pretty much failing at life at present and i gotta tell ya, it ain't fun. No I have to call my brother back and explain to him. how can I even explain?
I got so nauseated last night, I thought I might lose my entire fried dinner. Aaron made me a tea, I held my head real still, and managed to avoid heaving. Which is good, because I'm only just getting over my last bout with throwing up broccoli, and if I had vommed last night I may never have eaten broccoli again!
Anywho.
Today the plan is to grab a lite lunch, head to the laundromat, a few other little errands, and clean clean clean.
Big changes are coming to the readron\waite household soon and we need to get crackin.
Wish us luck.
This next little vignette has been orphaned. How sad for it. It takes place right after the wedding day brunch at the Riverside bistro, a sequence of some of my favorite scenes I've written. This little thing is from Velvet's point of view. It doesn't offer too much in the way of plot advancement, but hey, it's short, kinda sweet, and what the hell?
If you havent read them I really do encourage you to go back and read the wedding day scenes, especially the brunch ones.
lol. I especially love Hector (2nd) and Grey's inner monologues during this scene (3rd)
The original intention was to have one more from maggie's pov and then this concluding one from Velvet but I think /i got too excited about the honeymoon and moved on and never went back to do Maggie's inner monologue, and now i think it'd be a little redundant. But her's Velvet! who is kinda redundant anyway sometimes, heeheehee.
Enjoy
*****************
“Do you think they looked happy?” Velvet asked her husband after they’d waved good-bye to the newlywed couple and said goodbye to Mr. Hector Ramirez. They stood in the front foyer of The Riverside Bistro, taking a moment to linger before they had to dash out into the downpour and go their separate ways—she to the market and he back to work.
She looked up into his face and watched his thoughtful expression. He didn’t answer right away, but looked into her face and smiled kindly. “Do you?”
Her eyes crinkled. “It’s so romantic.” She said softly and squeezed his hand meaningfully.
“Very.” He replied indulgently.
“Do you? Think they looked happy?” She pressed, wanting his opinion, needing his more objective point of view.
He raised his eyebrows and leaned down to kiss her softly. “Honestly?”
She nodded, holding her breath.
“I think they looked scared to death.” He laughed gently and she giggled.
“So I wasn’t imagining it?” She felt relieved to know her perception wasn’t too terribly off.
He shook his head. “Not that I can blame Grey.” He said with a sigh. “Mr. Ramirez seems very protective indeed.”
Velvet smiled and placed her head against her husband’s arm with a contented sigh. “He’s just doing what fathers have to do.” She mused. Jonah made a ‘hmmm’ of agreement and she squeezed his hand again. “I think our son did very well though, don’t you?”
“I was very impressed.” Jonah agreed sounding more than a little relived and quite proud.
“What do you think of her?” Velvet asked, hoping she sounded neutral. She didn’t want to bias his response; she wanted to know his honest reaction.
Jonah was quiet and Velvet didn’t need to look at him to know he was pondering. “She seems bright and level-headed.” He answered diplomatically. “And sweet.” He added.
Velvet rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think she’s beautiful?”
He chuckled. “She’s lovely.” He answered tepidly.
“Don’t you think they looked good together?” She prodded.
“I suppose they did.” He answered in a way that told Velvet he hadn’t even thought about it for a moment.
“Why, do you think?” She couldn’t quite wrap her head around the spontaneous elopement.
Jonah pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head before answering. “I’m not sure it matters why they did it, Love. It’s done.”
She furrowed her brows. “But do you think they love eachother very much?”
Still holding her close against him he laughed quietly. “You are a hopeless romantic.” He told her affectionately. “Then, so am I.” He conceded and she smiled against his chest. “What other reason could two beautiful young people have to elope besides loving eachother very very much?” he teased her sweetly.
She felt cozy and safe in his arms and she never wanted him to let go. “I love you.” She told him.
“I love you.” He responded.
Velvet wondered suddenly if Maggie might be pregnant. She was surprised to discover she hoped so. She was also surprised to discover how proud she felt of Grey if he had married her because of that.
The image of Grey’s father swam to the surface of her mind and she frowned. Grey was better than him. Infinitely better. He would do right by that girl. He wouldn’t do to Maggie what Vaughan had done to her all those years ago. Jonah had raised him better than that. Raised him to be a good man.
She squeezed her husband fiercely. She suspected Jonah might know for sure one way or the other, know more than Grey’d decided to share with her, but she decided she didn’t want to know yet. She’d wait. Wait till they told her.
“I have to get back.” He said rubbing her back.
“Come home with me instead.” Velvet said, looking up at him with sultry eyes and allowing her voice to get smooth and suggestive.
He opened his mouth to respond then closed it again. He cleared his throat. Then he smiled sadly. “You know I’d love nothing more, but I shouldn’t have even taken this much time away.”
She recognized the finality in his voice and pouted. He raised one eyebrow at her and then kissed that petulant pout. She breathed in the smell of him, the clean soap smell and bergamot. Then he pulled back, ran two knuckles softly down the side of her face and kissed her forehead.
“Be careful driving in this rain.” He said to her and she bit her lip to keep from grinning.
“I’m a fine driver.” She asserted.
He stared at her. “Velvet.”
She laughed. “I’ll be careful.”
He nodded and stepped away from her almost regretfully. “See you tonight Mrs. Delaney.” He said with an affectionate and playful smile.
Her heart thrilled at the sweet reminder of their first days together as a married couple. He’d said it to her every chance he could. When she’d been his young bride. She’d reveled in the change of title and would get giddy and warm whenever he’d say it to her. ‘Would you pass the carrots Mrs. Delaney’ or ‘How was your shopping trip Mrs. Delaney?’ or ‘Mrs. Delaney, would you care to join me in the bedroom?’. His adorable playful formality had made her feel girlish and adored and sweet and sexy all at once. And every morning on their honeymoon, when she opened her eyes and stretched and melted against his side and slipped her fingers through the spread of hair on his chest, even before opening his eyes he’d smile and tell her ‘good morning Mrs. Delaney—you make me the happiest man on earth.’ Whenever he called her that she breathed a little fuller and felt a tickle deep inside her.
Now, all these years later, after 20 years of married bliss, he could still make her feel like that young bride, just by the way he caressed the address, and smiled, and let his voice go soft and warm and a little bit sexy. Reveling in that intimate tickle deep within her Velvet fluttered her lashes coquettishly and smiled. “I look forward to it, Mr. Delaney.”
Danielle was like: "Where the hell was drunk beth when I was drunk danielle???"
hopefully soon we shall be a coupla drunk bitches together.
tonight i did a wicked townie thing-- went to yangtzee and drank scorpion bowls! fun times. I am ready to just about vomit now though. sadface.
I was gunna post writing but am drunker than i previoisly thought, so i am thinking it might be ill advised to post writing.
Happy birthday KERRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!
Um. also. idk.
Rum is awesomeface.
still no job. ayayayaaaaaaayyyyyyyy.
K.
gunna go watch some big bang theory with the hubs. i think we both just ate too much fried chinese food to big band eachother though. sadface. next time? rum and no food at all, that will equal sexiness.
Hey, this is the next bit from back in the day when Velvet meets Grace, Jonah's best friend and ex-girlfriend.
Check out this, this, and this, to catch up on what's going on here.
**********************
“Let’s go look at the nursery!” The little beauty chirped gaily, and grabbed up Grace’s hand before she had time to properly prepare herself.
Grace had every instinct to pull away, to keep her feet planted by Jonah, shake her head and say ‘I don’t wanna!’. But she did nothing of the sort. She was no coward. And she’d done nothing wrong. Was it her fault Jonah hadn’t had the ex-girlfriends talk with her yet?
She refused to feel guilty or ashamed or cowed by this diminutive little Venus. She was Jonah’s best friend, aside from Nolan, and she was sick of getting shunted to the side whenever his girlfriends got jealous and insecure.
“There’s a nursery?” Grace queried, a wry note sounding in her voice, her eyes meeting Jonah’s as she allowed the little heiress to pull her from the kitchen area.
He looked deeply concerned. “Shall I come along?”
Velvet giggled brightly. “You keep on cooking, chef!” She called without looking back. “It isn’t a nursery yet,” the girl told her confidentially, “But we have some big plans.”
Grace allowed herself to be led into the townhouse’s modest office, which was separated from Jonah’s bedroom by the downstairs bathroom. The brothers hadn’t done too much with it. There were a few unremarkable bookcases filled to bursting with Jonah’s books, and maybe some of Nolan’s. There was a great antique standing globe that he’d been given by his Dad upon graduating college, a comfy leather armchair—old and worn in and, Grace looked away. She’d had sex with him in that chair. Best not to think about things like that, especially when she was doubtless about to be grilled by his newest paramour.
This would be a fine space for a nursery. But Grace couldn’t quite swallow the fact that the two were moving so fast—sprinting toward domestic utopia, it would seem.
Velvet was babbling along gaily about which crib she’d registered for and what the color scheme would be. “I don’t want just blue, blue, blue!” She was saying as she strolled around the room, outlining how she believed the space would be best used. “Too much blue just makes me depressed. I’m thinking this bold little savage inside me wants reds! He’s a real pain sometimes. I think he’ll be a politician probably. So probably reds and navy, very Americana, right? But Jonah thinks red might not be soothing enough for the nursery, and if you do ‘soft red’ well that’s just pink and we don’t want to confuse people, right?” She laughed as she rounded the room and ended up right back by the door they’d entered from.
Grace stood smack-dab in the center, turning slowly to entertain the idea of a crib and a changing table and all the other little pieces Velvet had blathered on about. “You two are pretty damn serious.” She said, though for the life of her she could have sworn she was about to say: “Blues and reds would make great boy colors.”
Velvet Calder Grey smiled brilliantly. She leaned out the door and over her short stature Grace could see an alert Jonah, a Jones who didn’t know what to do with himself out there. “Sweetheart, how many minutes do we ladies have to chat before it’s ready?”
Grace watched Jonah spin in place, assess the lunch-in-progress on the stove and then turn back. “Maybe ten minutes?”
“See you in ten, then!” She chirped, and then actually blew him a kiss.
It took all of Grace’s energy to compose her face into something neutral when the girl spun around, closing the door as she did so. If Jonah had reached out and caught the kiss her level of irritation and gross-out would be extreme. Thankfully for her gag-reflex the man had instead smiled wanly and half heartedly picked up the wooden spatula again.
Then Grace was alone with the strange little creature. The most beautiful woman she’d ever seen in real life. They stared at eachother for what felt like a very long moment.
Then Grace smiled. She tended to do this when all the things she had to say were less than polite.
“He saved my life.” The girl said earnestly.
Grace raised her eyebrows but kept on smiling. That sounded ridiculously dramatic. From what she understood he’d done little more than comfort her after her embarrassing tantrum and then whisk her off back to his place. Oh, and apparently he’d become quite cozy with her despite the fact that she was married and expecting someone else’s baby. This was all very interesting, good fodder for a soap, but hardly heroic or life-saving.
But Velvet, seeming to pick up on Grace’s mute skepticism, nodded vigorously. “He saved my life. And I love him. With all my heart.”
“You don’t need to convince me of anything.” Grace said, feeling dismissive and distinctly awkward.
“You’re his best friend.” The girl said.
“Yeah.”
“And you love him.”
Grace tisked and put both her hands on the aching small of her back, which, by the way, didn’t feel so small lately.
“I care about him, yeah, and of course I don’t want to see him hurt—“
“Why’d you really break up?”
Grace thought her eyebrows might climb so high on her forehead that they’d get swallowed up by her hairline. “We decided we were better as friends.” She repeated doggedly. “Some people are not meant to be—romantic.”
This didn’t seem to make any sense at all to the little green-eyed vixen. “But you loved him.”
“Of course.”
“Was he not good in bed?”
Grace’s lips parted. “Do you always say whatever you’re thinking?”
Velvet didn’t look chagrined or chastised by this, instead she giggled and tried to look thoughtful. “We only have eight minutes for me to figure out if we can be friends and if I can be with Jonah forever or not.” She said without a lick of irony or sarcasm.
Grace blinked. “That’s a lot of pressure.” She said dryly.
Velvet looked sympathetic. “I like you.”
Grace blew a sigh out of her lips. “You don’t even know me.” She tried to sound kind, tried not to reveal the irritation she was feeling at the silly, absurd nature of this little heiress. Was this really what Jonah found appealing these days? Romantic, impulsive, over-dramatic little flutterbrains?
“But you’re smart and funny and frank, and Jonah obviously admires you and cares about you, and I don’t want to be enemies.”
Grace lengthened her neck and pushed her hands into the throbbing ache near her tailbone. Enemies? The girl should still be in high school for God’s sake. She seemed well educated, and she’d most definitely been to a finishing school, but she couldn’t do much to help the fact that she was seventeen. Maybe a slightly older-than-her-years seventeen, but not by too much, in Grace’s estimation.
“I have no intention of being your enemy.” She said as soberly as she could manage.
To Grace’s amusement the girl looked wildly relieved and pleased as punch. “Oh good. So where should we start?”
Grace had the churlish notion to simply stare back, a polite but expectant smile on her face, and wait for the little doll to make the first move. Grace recognized that she had something the girl wanted and that meant she had all the power. But looking at those big pale green eyes, and thinking about Jonah’s highly agitated state out there, waiting on tenterhooks while he tended the stirfry, Grace relented. With a heavy sigh she waddled over to the desk by the window and lowered herself to sit atop it.
“What do you most want to know right now?”
The girl bit her precious lower lip and fretted, in a dither about which path she wanted to explore most before their lunch was ready.
“We’ll have plenty of opportunities to chat.” Grace assured her in a soothing voice. “We’re going to be good friends, afterall.”
Velvet’s little cupid’s bow mouth formed an astonished ‘o’ and she looked positively transported.
“You mean it?!”
“Hell yeah. If you’re important to Jones you’re important to me.” She said it as if it was a maxim, but if she were honest with herself she knew there was no precedent to support that at all. She frowned just a little, thinking back across the years and coming to the conclusion that she’d never actually been especially nice to or supportive of Jonah’s girlfriends. Hell, she’d been downright chummy with almost every single one of Nolan’s serious girlfriends, and she was usually great to the girls her brothers brought home, but for whatever reason, she’d never warmed up to Jonah’s ladies. It was probably because he always insisted on choosing the worst girls for himself. Not that they were awful people, necessarily—well some of them had been awful people, she was certain—but they were always all wrong for him.
“Oh good. Thank you thank you thank you. Oh good!”
Grace smiled despite herself at the girl’s relief and watched her lower herself into the rolling desk chair to be close enough and comfortable enough for girl talk.
Grace made the decision to try to get on board with this one. Give her a chance. Knock off all the antagonism she’d displayed toward Jonah’s love interests over the past five years or so. She had serious doubts about this relationship, was pretty convinced it wouldn’t work out, thought it was moving way too fast and too far, but she swore to herself that she was going to hold her tongue, smile, and be a friend to them. This girl obviously made her friend over-the-moon happy at the moment, and he deserved happiness, so what the hell?
She brushed off the niggling insinuation her conscience was making about ulterior motives. This had nothing at all to do with Holden. She forced herself to believe that this was not at all about making sure this little girl was firmly ensconced in a committed relationship before Holden got the chance to ‘reacquaint’ himself with an old family friend who just happened to have had a decade long crush on the man. What man’s ego wouldn’t be stroked by that little bit of information? But this had nothing at all to do with the fact that the most beautiful girl Grace had ever seen had openly admitted to being once in love with her weak-willed and infidelity prone husband. Nothing whatsoever.
This was about being a good friend to Jonah.
“—tomorrow if you’re free?”
Grace wasn’t perfectly sure but thought she’d just been invited for more girl bonding time the next day.
“So long as I’m still pregnant.” She answered.
Velvet laughed gaily and then quite unexpectedly placed her hand on Grace’s enormous stomach. Grace was a little unused to this, even after so many months of it. It was the strangest thing, that people felt perfectly at liberty to invade your personal space and touch your body as though they had every right.
“What are you thinking for a name?” Velvet asked, her voice warm and wistful as she ran her hands over Grace’s taut orb of a belly.
“Bennett. Ben.”
Velvet gushed approvingly. “Me too.”
Grace tilted her head. “You too? You’re naming yours Ben?” It was a good solid name, but these boys were going to be in the same class, maybe one of them should re-think this a little. And that someone really ought to be Velvet, since Bennett was Grace’s family name.
The girl giggled. “No, no. I’m naming him Calder.”
Oh. Right. Grace chided herself for being so airheaded. It was an unfortunate consequence of the pregnancy. She’d been frustratingly forgetful and daydreamy and downright thick-skulled so often lately.
“You’re not afraid he’ll sound like a fridge?”
She’d said it lightly, as a joke, but Grace honestly disliked the name. Velvet clucked her tongue and tilted her head with a smile.
“Nolan said the same thing!” She marveled. “And Jonah’s not wild about it either, but. Well. That’s what you do.”
She was referring to the tradition of it. The eldest girl of these well established WASPy families always named their firstborn son after their maiden name. Everyone was doing it. It was what was done in Cedar Falls. Grace herself was doing it. But Ben was a perfectly reasonable name. Calder sounded like a dishwasher.
“Why don’t you make Calder his middle name?” Grace offered.
Velvet waved her hands, indicating she would think about it later; at present she had more pressing concerns. “We’ll talk babies tomorrow. Right now let’s talk you and Jonah.”
Grace nodded. Ok, she thought, let’s get this overwith. “We started dating when we were sixteenish.” She told her matter-of-factly. “And it lasted right up till, oh, just before we headed off to college.” Lots of high school relationships end that way.
“Was he your first?”
Grace felt her brow crinkle. “My first boyfriend? No.”
Velvet’s perfect cheeks flooded with color but her eyes were clear and direct. “Your first, first.”
Grace stared at her for a moment, knowing the girl had clarified but still finding her meaning elusive. The question must have read on her face.
“Sex.” Smiled Velvet, keeping her voice a near whisper, as if Jonah might be listening in from just outside the door.
Oh. That. Of course. All that had seemed terribly important when she was seventeen. Who had been her first, or his first for that matter.
“No.” She assured the girl. But he was the best, she thought to herself candidly. No need to go spilling that little gem.
Velvet looked somewhat relieved at this news, but the relief lasted only a fraction of a moment before the next question sprang to her lips. “Were you his?”
Grace kept her face still. “Shouldn’t you be asking him about that?” She felt like an older sister. She disliked feeling older in any capacity.
“I will, I will, but you must know, right? Please just tell me.”
Grace warred with herself over whether she thought the girl’s thought-to-mouth policy was refreshing or really irritating. She weighed her answer carefully.
“No. I wasn’t.” She remembered that summer too well. They’d both ended up losing their respective virginity but not to eachother. This green eyed girl had been in elementary school then. Jesus. Of course, to be fair, she, herself, was almost five years younger than Holden. Men like younger women, she reasoned, get over it.
Again Grace watched a measure of relief march across that worried brow. “Who was?”
“Ugh. This college girl, Claire? Kate? I don’t remember her name—she was a camp counselor at the sleepaway camp.”
Velvet looked puzzled. “Sleep-away camp?”
Grace chuckled. “What’d you do on your summer vacations?”
“Europe. Asia once. Egypt. Why? What’s sleepaway camp?”
Grace laughed. “Just what it sounds like. Summer camp, but instead of going home to your family every night you stay in cabins and live there for a couple months or whatever.”
Velvet looked fascinated but still out-of-her-depth. “And there is sex at these camps?”
Grace erupted with laughter. What planet was this chick from? “Well it wasn’t a sanctioned activity or anything; it wasn’t like arts-n-crafts, archery, swimming, and oh, sex!” She chuckled and Velvet laughed nervously. “Um, hoo. But yeah, a bunch of teenagers and young adults, hormones flying around, bodies changing, no parental guidance? Yeah, there was sex at sleepaway camp. Yes.”
From the look on her face Grace would have bet money that Velvet was making a silent vow never to send her children to sleep away camp. She grinned at the girl.
“Jones fell in love with this counselor—all the boys were crazy in love with her, well, wait, ‘love’ isn’t quite the right word, but you know, and he was infatuated, and when she broke up with her meat-head boyfriend she took Jonah into her bunk for a while.”
Velvet’s jaw dropped. “What happened?”
“Um, they fooled around for like a whole month and then it was the end of summer and Jones was ready to do the long-distance dating, wanted to make it work, and whatnot, but she turned him down. I mean, she was going to be a sophomore in college and he was what, 15? 16?”
Velvet stared past Grace at the wall.
“And then you two started dating?”
Grace drew a breath and thought about it. “Yeah, it took us both a while to mend our broken hearts, or, egos really, after that summer, and we kind of helped eachother get over those failed relationships, and then, yeah, we realized one day that maybe we should date.” And by ‘realized maybe we should date’ Grace meant, of course, that they’d been hugging, like friends do, and then they’d pulled apart too slowly, and lingered in the embrace, and then: Bam. They’d started making out like crazy.
“Who was your first then?” Asked Velvet, unable to contain her curiosity.
“That college girl’s meathead boyfriend.” Grace confessed with a sardonic twist to her lips.
Velvet covered her shocked smile with a hand. “No!”
Grace nodded ruefully. “Yup. He was gorgeous.” He had been. “He wasn’t a counselor, he was more like, a handy-man or whatever around the camp. Maintenance and stuff. We fucked in the tool shed once.” Whoops. She should watch her language.
But Velvet looked delighted. “Oh my goodness, was he any good?”
Grace weighed this for a moment before answering. “He was gorgeous.” She reiterated. “And, um, powerful.” She added, thinking of the rigorous poundings she’d engaged in at every opportune moment.
Velvet tittered appreciatively. “He didn’t make you come though.”
“Not on purpose, no.”
Velvet squealed with laughter. “The first boys I fooled around with didn’t make me come either.” She lamented. “They were also quite gorgeous.” She confided with a twinkle. “One was this guitarist, he was in a band, but mother didn’t like that one bit and sent me abroad for a while. That’s where I fell in love with Pietro.” The girl sighed and her eyes got far away. “I sucked his dick.” She said plainly.
Grace laughed. Some finishing school. “Did he return the favor?”
Velvet laughed softly. “He went down there and did a few things but, to be honest? I think he was gay. I was practically begging to lose my virginity and all he seemed to want from me was oral.” She looked thoughtful. “And kissing.” She sighed and swept her bags across her forehead. “He was so fucking good looking. And well dressed.”
Grace grinned. Then she sobered a little. “So, was? Is?” She stopped, took a breath and braced herself. “Your husband, was he?”
Velvet’s eyes swam back to the present and her flawless complexion darkened perceptibly. “My first? Yes.” She said. “And he’s quite good.” She added bitterly.
Yes. So she’d heard.
Grace didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t be painfully awkward so she shut the hell up and let the girl recount whatever she was recounting in that pretty little head of hers.
“He gave me my first orgasm, and I thought—“ She took a breath and shook her head amazedly. “—I thought he was like a god for being able to make me feel like that.” She nodded to herself, a dazed look in her pale eyes. “I would have done anything he asked, anything, just to feel the way only he could make me feel.”
Jesus. How good was the guy? He was only human right?
Velvet’s eyes snapped back to the present with the swiftness of a striking hammer. “But Jonah is amazing.” She said bluntly, even accusingly.
Grace felt startled. Why was she looking at her like that, what the hell was she being accused of? “Oh.” Said Grace, dumbly. “Good.”
“No, like, amazing. Phenomenal.”
Grace nodded out of politeness. “That bodes well.” She said carefully. She could imagine. He’d always been considerate and creative and incredibly passionate. And yeah. Really fucking good.
“Was he not good when you were together?”
Oh. There’s where the accusation was stemming from. Grace blushed. They’d learned a lot together. Practiced, um, a lot. Quite a lot.
“He was great.” She said lamely.
Velvet tilted her head, not content with the euphemistic brush-off.
“Did he make you come?”
Oh, all the time. “Yes.” She tried not to think too hard about when the last time her husband had managed to make her orgasm might have been. Too damn long. She’d never faked a single time with Jonah.
“Then why’d you stop dating?” the girl asked, clearly mystified.
Grace absently ran a hand over her belly as she tried to think of a way to explain without revealing their secret. “After a while, even though the sex was always great, after a while we just felt more comfortable hanging out, being friends, you know.”
Velvet’s answering expression communicated very clearly that she did not know at all. And that she was concerned it might happen to her.
“We weren’t meant to be.” Grace said gently. “We’re best friends, sure, but we aren’t soulmates.” Such baloney, but it worked. The girl’s impossibly large eyes seemed to grow another size or two and she lit up.
“Soulmates.” She murmured, her eyes misting over. “I fell in love with him the minute I looked into his eyes.” She marveled softly.
Grace was proud of herself that she managed not to roll her eyes. If she had a dollar for everytime she’d heard that. They were pretty spectacular eyes.
“He seems head-over-heels for you.” Grace admitted generously.
“Really?!”
“You’re living with him, planning a nursery, having phenomenal sex, and getting lunches made for you. I think you might have found your soulmate.” Grace kept her tone lightly teasing. “And I’ve never seen him like this.” She added after a moment of watching Velvet’s silly grin. “He’s pretty deep in love.”
The girl smiled and cradled her round belly on both arms lovingly.
“So you don’t want him back?” She asked tentatively.
“I’m married.” Grace said reflexively.
“So am I.” Velvet pointed out logically.
“I’m in love with my husband.” She responded as gently but firmly as possible.
Velvet nodded, apparently satisfied.
Grace wanted to ask more, but held off. Maybe she’d screw up enough courage tomorrow. She wanted to know if Velvet really intended on raising that baby here in the Delaney brothers’ bachelor pad. If she really planned on divorcing her husband. She could foresee worlds of heartache and pain awaiting Jonah if this girl let him play daddy for a while and then decided she was done with this rebound fling. Because Grace knew Jones well enough to know he’d love that baby boy like a son. Hell, he probably already did. God dammit. She found herself actually praying that this relationship stuck. That this one would work out for him.
“Be good to him; He’s a once-in-a-lifetime.” Grace heard herself say to Velvet as she stood. She needed to pee before they sat down to lunch.
Velvet giggled. “You really are just like a sister.” She marveled and wrapped her little arms around Grace wholeheartedly.
Grace returned the hug awkwardly, unused to feminine enthusiasm, and unused to hugging another very pregnant individual. “We’ll have plenty of time to chat and bond and bitch and gossip tomorrow. Right now I have to pee so bad I can taste it, and Jones is probably out there ready to throw himself into traffic he’s so nervous about what I’m telling you in here, so what’s say we put him out of his misery?”
Velvet released her from the deceptively viselike hug and beamed with warmth and satisfaction.
I've hit one hell of a rough patch in life. And I'm terrified. To be perfectly frank, of course.
Awful timing is starting to be the norm and I'm wondering if my luck, stored up from finding four-leaf clovers in my youth and wishing on shooting stars and eyelashes has finally run out. And how does one operate without that healthy dose of luck?
Because I have the degrees and the qualifications and still haven't landed a job. I left the acting game because I didn't want to be in the luck business. in the 'it's who you know' business. in the 'waiting for a break' business.
Yet here I am. and, oh yeah, it sucks even worse than the acting business ever could have.
On top of that we're looking at this offer to buy aaron's family home, the house he grew up in, the kinda place where you put down roots and raise a family generation after generation. There's obviously a whole ton of bullshit that goes with it, but it is something both of us have dreamed about since we were teenagers.
And the timing? hilarious.
So who knows?
Lots of wonderful, nice, happy things keep on happening, and I try to milk them for all they're worth. Babysitting my adorable Niece, enjoying vacation time with Aaron, seeing my dear friends, Aaron's book getting tons of awesome buzz (too bad he doesn't get a cent of royalties, lol), and other little things here and there.
But landing a full time job would finally enable me to breathe easier. Sure it would set off a whole new panic, like: Oh my god, now I actually have to DO a job! AHHHHHHH! But I'm beginning to firmly believe that that stress would be infinitely preferable to the stress I'm under now.
Everyday I tell myself /i'm going to finally tackle all my issues and dilemmas and stumbling blocks and finally be a grown up. and everyday I find every possible way to avoid doing so.
So I made myself stop blogging. and facebook. and even in large part writing. But none of that helped. It just fucked with my routine and now my whole sleep schedule is off and I'm even less together than usual. So. Hi! Back to the routine.
I'm hoping it will help me focus my thoughts.
Oh, and confession: I fell wayyyyy off the pizza wagon. I had to stay with my sister for a few days 9long story) and basically all she had in the house for a vegetarian was frozen pizza of one variety or another. oh, and pasta (not really too much better, it wasn't even enriched.). Then when I got home it was just easier to do pizza, and then today I'm picking up capecod pizza for lunch with my dad, and ugh. I even had totino's pizza rolls, and know what? i don't LOVE TOTINO'S PIZZA ROLLS!
So i'm vowing, once again, to lay off pizza, starting SATURDAY! Heck. maybe I'll even get a salad today from capecod instead of a pizza. food for thought.
i promised I'd post the follow up, so here we go! Then I anticipate a little hiccup in posts. I am trying to enjoy my vacation but also use the time to get some real stuff done, and i think I'd better cool it with the writing until I have my affairs in order.
Or, at least somewhat in order.
Besides, I gotta give my chica a chance to catch up here. She has a little bean that is keeping her quite distracted from the ever exciting world of Cedar Falls!
So, without further ado, enjoy the next little bit, this time from Grey!
************
Grey realized he needed to work on giving apologies. He’d meant to, he really had, he’d meant to tell her as soon as they sat down that he was sorry for being an asshole that morning. But instead he’d managed to rile her up again and get all defensive and arrogant and, well, he’d been an asshole all over again.
She thanked him for the bagel and OJ and he sipped his coffee grimly. Could he say it now? He looked her over while she chewed an over-large bit of her bagel. She had been hungry afterall. He hoped for her sake that she was able to keep it down. He wondered how much longer this morning sickness (which struck at all hours, not just the goddamn morning) would last. He had no idea how far along she was, or anything like that. Well, he had some idea, of course, but not a real accurate one.
“Maybe we should do the car thing another day.” She offered, and he recognized that she was working hard to keep her tone polite and neutral.
“What’s your schedule like for the rest of the week?” He asked, to be fair. He had every intention of getting everything done today, but he’d pretend to entertain the notion.
She chewed thoughtfully and twisted the plastic top off her bottled OJ. He watched her take a long swallow. Goddammit. He shouldn’t be looking at her neck like that. Especially not while she swallowed something. He rolled his shoulders back and focused his eyes on the cardboard coffee cup in his fingertips.
He read the words ‘CAUTION: HOT!’ five times before she answered.
“Between work and school, I guess this is the best day—unless we can do it on a Sunday.”
Of course this was the best day, he wasn’t a goddamn moron. He knew her ridiculous work schedule from when they’d been dating and she’d left a copy of her class schedule on the refrigerator for him when she’d moved into the cottage.
“’Fraid not.” He said calmly. “We need to go to the bank and the registry and all that bullshit. So Sunday’s out.”
She was quiet for a long time so he finally looked up. She seemed to be lost in thought, staring over his shoulder at some hideous student artwork. He took the opportunity to run his eyes over the parts of her that were visible above the tabletop.
She’d thrown on some old sweater that morning, and when she’d stomped out of her room he’d had to force himself to look away. It looked incredible on her. It was clearly several years old, the style wasn’t in fashion anymore, but it was sort of classic. And loose in certain places but form-hugging in others, and the cream-white color of it set off her caramel skintone in such a delicious way that it made him ache to taste her.
Her breasts looked phenomenal. He checked quickly to make sure she was still off in her own world before allowing himself the time to linger on her chest. He could bet the old wool was fuzzy. If he slipped her bra off, the cable-knit would likely rub and tickle at her nipples until they stood rock-hard underneath. He could imagine what the full roundness of her breasts in that sweater would feel like in his hands, on his bare chest, on his inner thighs.
“Grey?”
Shit. Cock-sucking-mother-fucking-sonuvabitch.
“Hm?” he asked, meeting her eyes and hoping he looked perfectly innocent.
She eyed him skeptically. “Am I not dressed properly for all the things we have to do?”
He didn’t dare take his eyes off hers. “You’re fine.” He responded mildly.
She frowned.
“I deserved that. This morning.” He managed to grumble after several more minutes in silence while she chewed and sipped.
Maggie hurried to swallow the bit of bagel she’d been working on and took a hasty sip of her juice. “I shouldn’t have called you that—“
Grey felt his lips pulling into a smile. “I actually kind of like it.” He said roguishly.
She bit her lower lip, which made him feel all sorts of things he shouldn’t in the middle of a coffee shop, and she smiled tentatively. “You like what? Being denigrated?”
He let out a bark of surprised laughter. “Christ.” He responded, shaking his head. “No, I liked hearing you swear.”
“Oh.” She chuckled appreciatively, and he loved the color that was rushing to her cheeks.
“And I liked that you called me out.” He confessed, not realizing how true the sentiment was until it had found voice.
“I should have been more understanding.” She argued. “You’re concerned, and that’s understandable. It’s nice, actually.”
Grey felt a heat on the back of his neck and shifted in his seat. “I was an asshole—“
“You were.” She agreed solemnly.
He looked up at her, astonishment all over his face, and she was grinning.
Her smile washed over him like a cooling balm and fresh air, and he wondered how he’d ever been angry with her. He smiled back. This was dangerous. He made himself focus on the table. It wouldn’t do any good at all to start liking this woman more than was strictly necessary to get through each day.
“But, I wasn’t much better.” She admitted.
He smiled a little at the table. This was awkward. He’d never done this sort of conversation with a girl before. Usually once there was a fight the ‘relationship’, such as it was, was over. If there was an argument or even a heated disagreement it meant that Grey’d stopped caring enough to play the part of the perfect suitor. It meant he was over bull-shitting and pretending to care about what the girl wanted or expected of him. Or, of course, it meant that she’d found out he’d been cheating on her which was a pretty good indication that the relationship was over already.
This was all new to him. Having to apologize, having to clear the air, having to give a shit about the other person’s feelings and opinion. Because he had to go home at the end of the day and live with this one. Sure he could blow her off, treat her rudely, and get on with his life as if she were not a factor, but… He’d tried that on the honeymoon and it had been awful. He thought it’d be easier for him to conduct himself in accordance with his own whims, just as he’d always done, but it had felt pretty shitty actually. When he was considerate and pleasant to her the days and nights just went by much more smoothly.
Peculiar.
“I like when you get all fired up.” He said with a playful smile at the table. “Your people are adorable when they’re in a temper. I only wish you’d gone off in rapid-fire espanol.”
She growled but she laughed too. “We’re a passionate people.” She agreed.
A flash of her gorgeous naked body riding his cock made him blink and shake his head. She certainly could be a passionate little hellion.
“Anyway, I was wondering how pissed off I’d have to get you before you brought out the big guns.” He said, and lifted his drink to his lips. In his peripheral vision he could see the soft cream color of her sweater and he felt hotter than was comfortable.
“You mean the ‘f’ word?”
He started laughing before he’d finished swallowing his mouthful of coffee and choked a little. She looked concerned and made a move to get up and help him, but he waved his hand to indicate he was fine.
Grey cleared his throat with a grin. “Yes, Mrs. Delaney, the ‘f’ word.” She was so fucking cute.
She bit her lower lip again and he let himself look this time. If she was going to persist in doing it he’d better figure out a way to get used to it.
“Probably the only time you’ll hear me say that is right before I plunge a knife into your heart or something.” She lifted her hot coco to her lips and sipped demurely.
“How very Telemundo.” He responded with a smirk. “I bet I can get you to say it in another context.”
She furrowed her brow. “Ok, maybe not murder. But I’d duck, if I were you, because if I’m using that language I’m probably throwing dishes or some other household items.”
He chuckled. She’d missed his innuendo. She was so sweet and naïve. “You can’t think of any other instance you might use the big bad ‘f’ word Mrs. Delaney?”
She balled up her napkin and thought for a moment. “You think I’ll say it in labor?” She half-whispered, almost scandalized at her hypothetically potty-mouthed self.
The lightness drained out of him. She’d really missed his innuendo, and gone right to a place he’d rather not imagine. “I guess I’ll probably deserve it on that occasion too.” He muttered.
She smiled. “I hope I don’t say it then, but if I do, please forgive me.”
He took a deep breath in and finally looked her in the eyes. He didn’t know what to say. He tried to imagine her in labor, having a baby, his baby, but he was having trouble picturing it. It was all too surreal. He didn’t really comprehend that such an outcome was inevitable. “Naturally.” He responded smoothly.
“And next time I have an appointment you’re welcome to join me.”
Grey thought of Jonah for a moment. Thought of the appointments he’d been to with other girls because his dad had told him it was the right thing to do. At those ones he usually sat in the waiting room. She was talking about actually going in there. Images of ultrasounds and stirrups and speculums swam in his imagination. He swallowed. He couldn’t speak.
“Because you were concerned about my choice of OB…” She explained weakly.
He nodded, coming back to the present after that pre-natal detour. Right. Part of his outrageous tantrum that morning had been to malign her judgment in medical professionals. “I’m sure your doctor is perfectly adequate.” He responded civilly.
She reacted to his sudden mood shift. Her face washed over in concern and her muscles went taut. “You aren’t required to come along.” She told him, a stiffness in her voice ineffectively masking a vulnerability.
Again Grey thought about his dad. Then he thought about his mother. Then he sighed and looked at Maggie. “I would like to.” He lied.
She could tell he was lying. They locked eyes for a long moment. Was she going to call his bluff?
“So which place is first? The social security office?”
Grey felt the urge to apologize again, though for what, exactly, he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He’d given the right response there. The gentlemanly response. But. He just generally felt like he’d done something wrong. Like an asshole.
“Yeah, I think so. Are you ready to shed the Ramirez?”
Her hand paused midway between the table and her lips, her cocoa in limbo. “Oh.” She said. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.” She looked a little shaken.
“Why don’t you keep it?” He suggested quickly. He didn’t give two shits about her last name.
But she shook her head. “No. I’m your wife.”
His lips got tight. Yeah, he guessed if it was going to be ‘in name only’ they’d better go ahead and change the name, huh?
“You sure?” He asked.
She nodded resolutely.
“Magdalena Delaney sounds a little ridiculous.” He pointed out helpfully.
She scowled. “Our family will all have the same name.” She told him firmly.
He winced. Family? A cold sweat crept across the back of his neck and down his front. “Well I’m not changing mine to Ramirez, so I guess you’re stuck with being Magdalena Delaney.” He teased half-heartedly.
She rolled her eyes.
“Maybe keep the Ramirez too.” He offered and finished the last of his coffee.
“Maybe.” She responded, non-committal.
He stood to collect her plate and empty juice bottle along with his coffee cup.
“That might make it easier to switch back.” He added. He remembered his mother saying something about what a hassle it had been changing her name back to Calder from Grey after her divorce.
“I need to use the restroom.” Maggie announced suddenly, rising with purpose.
“Sick?” He asked, feeling almost dismayed. She needed to keep food down and actually digest it, for God’s sake.
“No, no. I just, better go before we leave.” She said hurriedly, and she moved past him, careful not to make any contact with him, and pretty nearly rushed toward the back of the shop where some local artist had done a hack job of re-creating the Venus DeMilo on a pink door. He toyed with heading back to the blue counterpart, the one with the David painted on it, but he decided to wait with their coats. He tossed their garbage into the psychedelically decorated trash bin and returned the little bagel plate to the counter.
He sat down to think about what they needed to accomplish, and wrestled a piece of folded stationary from his coat pocket where it rested over a third chair. He unfolded the crisp white letter-sized paper and scanned hid Dad’s neat, organized handwriting.
Name change; License change; (Credit Cards change?); Joint bank account.
A line had been drawn under this list and Jonah had outlined another section of to-do items.
Life insurance; Will; Medical Proxy; College fund?
Jonah knew about the baby.
Then Grey’d added: CAR.
Jesus Christ, thought Grey, What a fucking hassle. He’d call Ward about all the legal stuff. That shit didn’t need to get done today.
Today would be all the name change and that bullshit so they could set up the bank account (that way Maggie could stop asking him for money, which made him more uncomfortable than just about anything in the world), and then they’d go pick out a car so she didn’t have to ask him for rides (which didn’t bother him at all, but he could tell it bothered her. And besides, who doesn’t have a fucking car?).
Maybe when she had access to a joint bank account, and when she’d gotten used to just how much money was in said account, maybe she’d relax with the insane work schedule. He didn’t need her running herself ragged. She needed to take care of herself. She didn’t need a couple of minimum wage service jobs for fuck’s sake.
Whatever. That would be her call. No way he was going to open his mouth on that subject—he was already enough of a controlling asshole, right?
His phone buzzed in his pants pocket and he retrieved it, only half interested in who might be calling. Shit. It was Phelan. The guy had been calling and texting like crazy for a week. Of course Grey’d forgotten his phone charger and had spent much of the honeymoon with his phone out of commission until he’d finally decided to get off his ass and go buy a new one. When he finally had plugged the little beast in it had lit up like the Fourth of July with texts and messages from his roommate, but also from his sisters, his friends, a few girls he had lined up dates with, and even his parents—who knew where he was but just wanted to check in. He had almost wished he’d left it dead. So he chose to ignore the messages and questions, the ‘where the fuck are you?’s and especially Phelan’s “Holy fucking shit, your mom just told me you got married. This is a fucking joke, right?”
Now he opened a text from his best friend that read: “Fuck my cunt with a donkey cock—did your little bride kidnap you and sell you into white slavery south of the border?”
He’d need to face his friend sometime. But today wasn’t the day for Phelan and all that crazy bullshit.
Today he had to deal with Maggie. He returned the phone to his pocket, the text unanswered, and tried to think objectively about his ‘little bride’.
He decided he needed to start treating her like what she was—a roommate. He never fought with Phelan the way he did with Maggie. He never flew into crazy, irrational tempers at anything Phelan ever did. Well, almost. Yeah. And he had certainly never spent all night or day wondering how Phel was feeling, or what he was thinking about; and he had definitely never wasted time imagining his roommate naked or in provocative sexual positions. And he’d never forced himself on Phelan while drunk either. So. Yes. He needed to start pretending that Maggie was nothing more interesting or special than a platonic roommate.
With whom he shared a bank account, a last name, and eventually a child.
Grey grunted at the list and folded it back up.
“Ready?” Her voice made him start.
He looked up at her before he could prepare himself. He was at eye-level with her perfect breasts. Phelan never looked that good in a sweater and jeans. Fuck. This roommate thing was going to require a lot of cold ass showers.
“Vamanos.” He replied dryly. And he stood to help her into her coat.
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