Sick Day

 Ok folks, taking a step back in time!  I wrote this a while back and really really like it.  There's some stuff that went on years ago that we need to explore and delve into because it plays a role in the present day cedar falls... dun dun dunnnnnnn!

Ok, hope you like...

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Jonah pushed the front door inward and it smacked hard into something that rang and erupted into a jaunty, high-pitched electronic version of ‘The wheels on the Bus’.  He frowned and pushed the door open more carefully.  The foyer was littered with enough toys for an entire preschool.  Furrowing his brows he closed the door behind him.

Somewhere deep in the house an exaggerated eastern European voice could be heard counting to ten and laughing in a vampiric ‘ah-ah-ahh’.

He put his briefcase down next to a rainbow colored xylophone on wheels and started toward the sounds of sesame street when a metallic clatter and a peel of giggles sounded from the direction of the kitchen.  Pocketing his keys and stepping over an orphaned baby doll and a pile of wooden block puzzles, Jonah moved toward whatever mischief was transpiring in the kitchen.

He groaned when he saw the dining room.  Someone had decided to do arts-and-crafts in here.  On the walls, and floor, and, was that?  Yes.  On the cream colored Italian silk upholstery on each and every dining room chair.  The indecently expensive hand woven rug was now decorated with what appeared to be an entire bottle’s worth of Elmer’s glue and confetti, and, oh yes, macaroni elbows too. 

What the hell was going on here?

An A-rhythmic and very insistent metallic banging from the kitchen helped drag his attention from the disastrous dining room.  “Sonuvabitch.”  He said quietly to the spilled fingerpaint kit in the corner by the standing porcelain vase that had been a wedding gift from his parents.  Taking a deep breath he pushed the kitchen door inward almost reluctantly.

“Jesus Christ.”  He said, but it was drowned out by a boisterous clatter and tapping accompanied by a full-lunged, a-tonal, almost unrecognizable version of the alphabet song.  Jonah forced himself to count to ten very slowly--fighting the rapid pace of the amateur drumming--as he surveyed the damage.

Someone had figured out a way around the child proofing.  Every condiment kept below, say four feet, had been removed from the refrigerator and strewn about gloriously throughout the kitchen.  Every single pot and pan and lid they owned seemed to be out of the cabinets and were now serving as an entire percussive symphony for someone.

“Zeeeeeeeeee!”  The voice shrieked triumphantly, followed by a beat of silence and then the enthusiastic sound of self-applause.  “Yeeayyyyy!”

Jonah bit down on his lips to keep from laughing.  When the banging began again he crept toward the kitchen island.  He glanced at the cabinets under the sink—they seemed to be one of the only sets still securely closed and undisturbed by whatever little hurricane had struck the kitchen.

“Eeee-yiiiii eeeee-yyyyyiiiii eeeeey-iiiiiiiyyy!!”  The voice was doing ‘Old Macdonald’ now, as Jonah placed his palms on the kitchen island and slowly leaned over the smooth granite surface to peek.

He’d expected to see a mop of red hair, but what he saw instead was enough to make his jaw fall open.  She was powder white.  All over.  Head to toe.  Covered in a layer of white dust.  As was the floor all around her, and the pots and pans and the wooden spoon she was using to play drums.  Jonah spied an upturned bag of flour by the sliding glass door, along with multiple tracks of various sized footprints heading in and out of the mess.  Holy God.

“Haii!”  His daughter greeted him with a wide grin and he looked her over, unsure whether he wanted to laugh or cry.  What a mess. 

With the crystal clear decisiveness signature to toddlers, she flung the wooden spoon away and scrambled to her feet, eager to run around the island and clamp his pant leg in a full body squeeze.  He wasn’t even quite sure which one she was under all that flour.

“Hi there.”  He said, and when she looked up at him he couldn’t help laughing.  It was even in her eyelashes for god’s sake.  What the hell had happened?  He bent down and swung her high above his head, causing a puff of flour to shake loose from her hair, and a pleased giggle to bubble up from her belly, before setting her firmly on his hip and taking one last inventory of the kitchen.  He opened a few lower cabinets to make sure the other twin wasn’t hiding within, peered under the kitchen table in the breakfast nook—finding evidence that the area had likely been used as a fort or a cave of some kind—and then departed the kitchen in search of the rest of his family.

“You made quite a mess.”  He murmured to the nearly-naked little flour-cloud on his hip.

She made a devilish giggle and kicked her legs eagerly. 

“Yes.”  He agreed with her, “But I think you must have had some help, hmm?”

She tossed her head to the side (another little puff of white powder) and rambled vehemently but mostly incoherently.  He thought he might have heard “Ball” and “Monkey” and possibly “Elmo” among the nonsense syllables, but even those he couldn’t be sure of.

He picked his way carefully through the foyer and stepped into the living room with a euphemistic curse.  “Son of a gun.”  He said through clenched teeth.  He was starting to get worried now.

The potted plants from the large bay window had been overturned and potting soil, like the flour in the kitchen, had been tracked to and fro by tiny feet.  The furniture was strewn with what had been piles of clean laundry when he’d left that morning, and the sofa and chair cushions were nowhere in sight.  In here, like in the foyer, there seemed to be an almost un-navigable maze of miscellaneous toys and playthings.  From small items like blocks and fake plastic food items, to larger items like a tricycle and a pink plastic (kid-sized) shopping cart.  Jonah doubted a single toy remained behind in the toy chests they kept in the den.

He doubled back to the foyer quickly and let out a shaky breath of relief to see that the safety gate was still in place at the base of the stairs.  Thank God.

At this point the girl on his hip decided to perform ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes’, apparently determined to cycle through her entire repertoire, and she was slapping at his head and shoulders with great gusto.  Jonah tried to lean out of her range but she managed to knock his glasses askew on one wild swing and he had to clamp down hard on the insides of his cheeks to keep from cursing.

He was really getting nervous now, and his strides became longer as he headed to the downstairs bathroom.  He said a quick thanks to the fates that they’d decided against a tub in the downstairs bathroom, but he was holding his breath nevertheless.  There were all sorts of ways for a child to manage to do harm in a bathroom.

“Jeeeesus.”  He said when he got close and stepped into a wide, spreading puddle.

“Uh-Oh.”  Said the girl, recognizing a curse when she heard it.

“Uh-oh.”  Jonah echoes absently, taking one splashing, soggy step after another until he reached the door and pushed it open quickly.

The toilet was overflowing (he had anticipated as much), and bubbling up out of it, like an insane fountain in a princess dream, was a dense carpet of fluffy, foamy bubbles, which blanketed not only the toilet but the entire floor of the little room as well.

And there was the other twin.  Naked.  Soaking wet.  Covered in bubbles.  And apparently on cloud nine about it.

The twin on his hip squealed and the one planted among the foam looked up with an answering shriek.

Ok.  Genny was the one in the bubbles, so Vienna was his flour-child.

Vienna started squirming and wriggling to get down as Genny clambered to her feet and crossed to him with her small arms held aloft.  “Up!”  She demanded. “Up!”

Jonah had been a father and an elementary school teacher long enough to know what would happen if he let the two come into contact—he’d have two daughters covered in paste.

So he deftly dodged Genny and crouched down to turn the valve behind the toilet until the water supply was closed.  By this time the water was seeping through his shoes and his socks were getting quite wet.  His daughter had, apparently, done her level best to flush an entire bottle of bubble bath or baby shampoo or something.  Holy hell.  He’s never seen so much foam, outside of a carwash, and he’d certainly never seen it spilling gloriously from a toilet.  He couldn’t help but grin at the absurdity of it.

Genny was doing her level best to climb onto his back or knee or whatever she could manage, and the squirming Vienna was becoming quite irate with his refusal to put her down in the bubbles.  “Up!”  Genny demanded.  “Bubbuhz!”  Whined Vienna.

“Hi Daddy!”  Piped a bright voice from behind him. 

He grunted as he stood, working hard to maintain his balance despite Vienna’s forceful wriggling and Geneva’s tenacious climbing.  He turned to see his four-year-old looking cheerful but disheveled, her hair a mess, her mouth orange (he’d put his money on canned pasta as the likely culprit there), and paint all over her hands and arms and pajamas.  Pajamas?

“Hiya Birdie.”  He responded in as chipper a voice as he could manage.  “What’s uh, what’s the story?”

She looked around at the bubbles with astonishment, took in the sight of her two ragamuffin sisters, and then looked at him with wide purple eyes and a serious expression.  “I didn’t do it.”

Jonah clenched his jaw and ran his tongue over the insides of his teeth.  “Crazy day, huh?”  He inquired, plucking his slippery wisp of a daughter from the field of bubbles and pressing her slick little form to his side as he stepped from the bathroom.

“I made you a picture!”  She told him, sounding enormously excited.

“Thank you.  Did you go to school today?”

“Nope.”  She replied pleasantly as she trailed along in his wake.  “We stayed home sick.”

He paused in his progress just long enough to maneuver the back of his hand to her little forehead.  She didn’t feel warm.  He moved away from her just before Genny would have landed an unwitting kick to the girl’s face.

“We?”  He asked, resuming his steady pace toward the den.  “Who is ‘we’?’

“Me and Grey.”  She answered, and he heard a note of resentment in her voice at the mention of her older brother.

“Grey’s sick?”  He peered into the den where Sesame Street was playing at full volume, where books and toys and sippy cups were strewn about in disarray.  Where a couch cushion fort had been erected over by the piano.  But where there was no sign of his wife or son.

“No, he’s taking care of Mummy.”  Avalon answered, running off toward the art table.  Where arts and crafts were meant to be done.  Where paint and crayons and glue and things of that nature were sanctioned.  Today the art table looked almost pristine.  Because she’d opted to re-locate to the dining room today.

“Where is Mummy?”  He asked, trying not to let the panic he was feeling creep into his voice.  “And where’s your brother?”

Avalon shrugged and began singing along with Ernie, twirling several long ribbons around herself fluidly.

On his right hip Vienna was trying to get his attention with her garbled, mish-mash version of ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’, recognizable only because of the upward climbing hand motions; And on his left hip, Genny, not to be outdone, began a very rowdy ‘If You’re Happy and You Know It’.

A sharp throbbing was beginning to gather behind his eyes and his breathing was tight.  He slipped Genny down his side and to the floor despite her urgent renewal of the plea of “Up!”, then crossed to the television set and clicked the ‘down’ volume button furiously.

“Ava-Bird, I want you to do me a big favor please.”  He said as calmly as he could. 

She stopped twirling and singing—she’d detected something serious in his tone.  “Yeah?”

“I need you to keep your sister here with you in the den while I go find Mummy and Grey.  Can I count on you?”

Genny was stomping now and he knew she was likely to have a hell of a tantrum in a matter of moments, and even though Vienna wanted nothing more than to be set down, it just had to be this way unless he wanted flour all over the den as well.

Avalon nodded, solemn in her appointed duty.

“Good girl.”  He told her, and rested his hand on her head for a moment.  “Try and distract her, ok?”

“Ok.”  Avalon began talking in an over-bright, uber-enthusiastic voice to her little wet stormcloud of a sister and was doing her best to engage her in a sing-along as Jonah back-tracked through the den, through the livingroom and into the foyer.

Vienna chattered at him in a very displeased sort of tone.  He recognized, vaguely, that she was scolding him.  He kissed her cheek before her thought about it and inhaled a nose full of flour dust.  He sneezed.  “Bessooooo.”  She declared promptly.

“Thank you.”  He responded with a gentle smile.

Were they upstairs?  He sniffed and adjusted his glasses.  Why on earth would Velvet go upstairs and leave her very young children downstairs?  A lump was forming in his throat, which, in combination with the constriction around his ribs, made the act of breathing an enormous challenge.

“Velvet?”  He called up the stairs.

He heard Genny wail in the den in response to the sound of his voice.  The little girl called out for him plaintively.  He heard Avalon try another tack—“Genny, Genny, let’s color!  Wanna color?!”

No answer from above stairs.

He looked at Vienna, who was looking up the staircase as he had been.  How had all this happened?

He didn’t want to leave Ava alone with Genny for too long, but he needed to go check.  His heart was beating very irregularly and a leaden weight had settled in his gut.  Whatever it was that had facilitated today’s chaotic sequence of events, it wasn’t good.

He lifted one long leg over the child-safety gate, gripped the railing and pulled the other over carefully.  It wasn’t so easy with a kid on his hip. Then he mounted the stairs with enough speed to illicit a breathless “Wheee!” from his daughter.  He wondered, for half a second, if they’d trailed a cloud of white powder behind them on the way up.

When he reached the top landing his son appeared before him.

“Grey!”  He said, a measure of relief spreading through him at the sight of the boy, who looked just fine.  “Been looking for you, Buddy.”

“Mum is sick.”  He responded without preamble.  His seven-year-old face was drawn and pale with concern.  He was frowning and looking much more mature than any second grader had business looking.

Ok.  Something was wrong with Velvet.  He swallowed.  Maybe very wrong.  “How about you, son?  You ok?”

Grey looked impatient.  “I’m fine.”  He said hurriedly.  “Mum is really sick though.”

Jonah squeezed the boy’s shoulder firmly.  “Where is she?”

Grey spun on his heel and Jonah followed without delay.  He led his father to the master bedroom.  The first thing Jonah saw was blood on the sheets.  He stopped functioning for a minute and went clammy all over.

He slipped Genny down and forced her hand into Grey’s.  “Hold her.”  He managed to say.

The door to the master bathroom was ajar and Jonah moved toward it, hardly aware of the steps it took to cross.  He pushed open the door very slowly.

His heart surely skipped several beats. 

She was curled up on the bathroom floor, in the fetal position, a pillow from Grey’s bed cushioning her head, a wadded up towel between her legs, the toilet seat up and ready, he imagined, for vomit.  She was paler than he’d ever seen her, and her underarms were dark with perspiration.  Her hair was pulled back in a hectic ponytail and the dark circles under her eyes were alarming in their severity.

“Velvet?”  He croaked.

She lay quite still.  He was frozen.  He watched her torso for a moment and was able to see her small frame lift and fall with inhalations and exhalations.  Thank god in heaven. 

“Velvet.”  Jonah repeated sternly, still rooted to the floor just outside the bathroom.

Her eyes fluttered.

“Mumma!”  Vienna called.

“Don’t let her come over here.”  Jonah said sharply to Grey.

Velvet’s eyes fluttered again and finally opened.  She looked faraway and dazed.  “Grey?”

Jonah crossed to her then, knelt beside her, and put a hand to her forehead.  Warmer than he’d like.   “Velvet, sweetheart, it’s Jonah.”

“Jonah.”  She murmured her voice as weak as a mewling kitten.

“Angel, baby, what’s going on?”  He urged her, his voice thick with emotion and ringing with panic.

“Told him not to call you—“

“I’m home now love, I’m here now, just talk to me.”  He ran his eyes over her and discerned the likely source of the blood. 

She fell quiet for a long moment.  Outside the bathroom in the master bedroom Grey was blocking his baby sister’s attempts to get to her parents.  He wasn’t doing it kindly, but Jonah could hardly be bothered by that at the moment.

“Grey—put her in the nursery, shut the door, and get the phone please.”

“She told me I couldn’t call you—“  He said, sounding angry and afraid and ashamed.  “She said I wasn’t allowed to call 911 either.”

Jonah closed his eyes.  “It’s ok Buddy, just do what I say now, alright?  Put your sister in the nursery for a minute, make sure the door’s closed tight, and run and get the phone please.”

Grey didn’t respond verbally but Jonah heard the unmistakable sounds of a toddler getting half-carried, half-dragged down the hall kicking and screaming.

He re-opened his eyes and stared helplessly at his wife.  He stroked her cheek and rubbed her back gently.  “Velvet, baby, talk to me.”

Her wide green eyes peered up at him and he read sorrow in them.  “I think… I think I might be pregnant?”  She more asked it than stated it.

Jonah thought about the blood on the sheets and cast a quick glance at the blood on the towel between her legs and he wasn’t so sure she was still pregnant, but she very likely had been.

“Ok.”  He said gently, rubbing her back in a soothing rhythmic pattern.  “Ok, well, don’t you worry about a thing sweetheart.”  He crooned.  “We’re gunna get you to the doctor’s right away, ok?”

She shivered all over and his heart twisted dramatically in his chest.  “Can you sit?  Do you think?  If I help you?”  He asked.

She looked disinclined to such a course of action.  “I don’t feel so hot.”

He snorted at the euphemism.  “I know, love, but we gotta get you up and to the doctor, ok?”

She shook her head and crinkled her brow.

“Yes.”  He insisted.

“Here.”  Said a breathless voice behind him.

Jonah turned and took the cordless bedroom phone from his son’s outstretched hand.  “Good work, thank you.”   He said.  “Stay here a minute please.”  Grey looked as though he hadn’t planned on going anywhere, no matter what Jonah said.

Jonah dialed Nolan.  Not at home.  He didn’t have time to track him down.  He dialed the next person he knew he could count on. 

Grace answered on the third ring. 

“I need you to come over and watch the kids.”  He stated before she’d even finished her greeting.

“Jones?  What’s going on?”  She was instantly alert, immediately receptive.

“Please—I need to get Velvet to the hospital.”

“I’ll be right there.”  She answered without hesitation.

“Thank you.”

He hung up and dialed Sam’s office. 

The secretary put him through rather quickly when he told her it was an emergency.  “This is Dr. Bennett.”

“Sam, Velvet’s been bleeding—I think she may be… pregnant—“  He euphemized neatly.  “She’s, she’s not doing well here.  I’m bringing her to the hospital.”  Jonah had avoided saying ‘miscarriage’ because he didn’t want to upset his wife or his son—though he doubted Grey knew what a miscarriage was, and the boy looked plenty upset already by the prospect of his mother having to go to the hospital.

“How long and how much?”  Sam asked soberly.

“I just got home.”  Jonah said, his body beginning to shake with the panic flooding through him.  “A lot.  A, uh, a fair amount here Sam.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Thank you.”

Jonah’s thumb punched the button to hang up and he pressed the firm plastic against his lips for a long moment.  He could hear his two year old stomping around in the nursery, throwing a fit.  He’d venture a guess that they hadn’t napped today.

He put the phone on the tiled floor and held out his hand to Grey.  Grey scowled and looked very serious.  Jonah opened and closed his hand several times wordlessly.  After a long deliberation Grey finally slipped his hand into his dad’s.

Jonah closed his fingers around his son’s small hand and pulled him into a fierce one-armed hug.  “I’m so proud of you for taking care of your mother today.”  He said passionately.

Grey grunted.  “I tried.”  He was trying hard not to whine by covering his anxiety with a forced gruffness.  “I made her soup and brought her water and crackers and a pillow.”  Grey was allowed to use the microwave.  Jonah would bet he’d also made the canned pasta lunch that had given Avalon an orange mustache.  And he’d probably had to feed the twins too.  Jesus.

“You did a great job.”  Jonah affirmed, pulling him back to look him in the face.

“But she just kept throwing up all the time.”  Grey lamented, his big green eyes flicking over to where his mother lay quite still and pale on the bathroom floor.

“Hey, look at me.”  Jonah said gently but firmly.  Grey did.  The boy was scared to death.  Jonah could empathize.  “You did a great job.  I’m proud of you.”  His son’s lower lip trembled just a bit and then he shrugged dismissively.  Jonah planted a kiss on his forehead.  “And you helped take care of your sisters, too, didn’t you?”

He nodded grimly.  “I tried to give them lots to play with so mummy wouldn’t have to get up.”

“That was smart thinking.”  Jonah said kindly. 

“And I made lunch too.”

“Impressive.”  He said.  “Thank you for being such a good big-brother.”

“Is she dying?”  He demanded suddenly, looking angry and terrified all at once.

Jonah fixed him with an earnest, steady stare.  “No.”  He told him plainly.  “Your mother is going to be ok.”  He continued.  “You took very good care of her for me, and because of that she’s going to get well very soon.”

Grey dragged in a shuddering breath and sighed it out.  His lowered brows and his frown remained unwavering.

Vienna was banging her head or feet against the nursery door.  Jonah squeezed his son’s hand reassuringly.  “Now, son, I need you to keep being a great big brother and bring Vee downstairs, ok?  Be careful with her on the stairs, you hear me?”  Grey nodded reluctantly.  “Ok, good.  You bring her down while I get Mummy dressed and ready to go.”  Jonah no longer gave a flying fuck about where his daughter might trail flour.  “And then wait downstairs and let Aunt Grace in as soon as she gets here—got it?”

Grey nodded once, firmly. 

Jonah cupped the boy’s cheek and smiled a soft, sad smile.  “I love you.”

“Loveyoutoo.”  Grey mumbled and, with one last baleful glance at his mother, hurried out of the bathroom and to his appointed tasks.

Jonah turned back to his wife.  She was awake and watching him with watery eyes.

“What is it?”  He asked quickly.  “Are you in pain?”

She shook her head weakly.  “You’re the best dad—“

He shook his head as he adjusted his body and slipped one arm below her legs just above the knees, and one around her back an under her arms.  “Can you put your arms around my neck sweetheart?”

She tried, but they fell back limply.  He tried not to think about how serious her condition was, why she was so very weak.  He maneuvered as gently as he could, so as not to jostle her, and stood with her bundled in his arms.

He’d never been so afraid in all his life.

Here's the low-down:

Whoopsie. Missed a day there.

It was a pretty busy, away-from-the-computer kind of day for me yesterday.

Started off pleasant, in post-coital bliss, then quickly devolved into a very nasty, ridiculous argument with my husband. Yuck yuck yuck.

Then dropped $400.00 to replace the alternator on Aaron's froggy wagon, had breakfast with my mom--and folks, she's at the age where the bulk of her conversation pertains to medical issues one would rather not discuss over a meal-- especilly when one has ordered eggs and hollandaise sauce. Gross. Besides? Everything about my mum & dad's sitch is depressing. and gloomy. and infinitely frustrating.

That's another kettle of fish.

Then-- a great thing-- I went to visit with D and the Bean! Made my week, to tell the truth. Ahhhh. It feels so good to get some female energy and perspective in my world! You might not notice it at first, but living with a guy and that guy's brother can really do weird things to the hormones, I think. It was nice to find some peace and balance and power in being a woman! And besides the awesome chat, the laughs, the advice, the encouragement and the sexy talk, I got to hold and bounce and play with the incredible Miss Zoe P! Her smiles light up a room!

Oh, and don't underestimate the power of a mary lou's coffee in your hand. I'm tellin ya.

K, then to work, but first I had to pick up the husband from HS to drive to our mutual work at the elementary. Chilly. At least at first. i waited until he chose to speak to gauge what mood he was in. See, I already felt alot better about the argument because I'd had a chance to laugh about it and process it with my bestie, so I wasn't actually angry at all, but I definitely needed him to do the approaching on this one.

And he did. He was conciliatory, and kind, and sweet. So I responded in kind. We said the requisite "I love you"s before he headed in to aftercare. Then somehow I recieved a voicemail from Brockton Human Resources but managed to never hear the phone ring or even have a missed call (curse you Verizon!!). So I promptly listen to the message and guess the fuck what? They want to offer me the job, and I should call them back if I'm interested.

WAHHHHHHT??????

YAYAYAYAYAYAYYYYYYY!

So I do. Get put on hold. Have to call back. Struggle with shitty reception, but eventually and FINALLY I am hired for a goddamn job! I am goint to be an MTA at BHS FULL TIME!! With bennies. The job is basically being the school bitch-- doing whatever they need whenever they need it, but whatevs! I am stoked! A little anxious (because anxiety is my default state), but relieved beyond measure.

It doesn't answer all my problems and woes like a magic wand-- I'm not making enough for that, but goddammit, does it ever help! Full time job. Wowza. Plus the afterschool job. holla!

So yay.

Then work was fun. I helped kids with homework and then played legos. The boys playing legos seemed shocked and curious that I was a female teacher and enjoyed building badass looking spaceships out of legos.

Then we came home and all hell broke loose, but to be honest I don't want to break it all down here at present. Suffice it to say that Aaron and I argued again, then he was awesome pants, I had a sobbing, sniffling, ugly-cry breakdown, and then slowly but surely began to heal and feel alot better. i've been keeping things so pent-up, keeping this armor on--because what other choice do I have, really? It's either get tough or breakdown at every bump in the road, you know? and my little road has been pretty fucking bumpy as of late. But anyway, it was good for Aaron to dismantle the armor, strip it off me, and exfoliate realllllll good. I feel shiny and healthy and much better balanced than I have for a while.

Then i made english muffin pizzas for dinner because I was just too exhausted to do anything more elaborate (or healthy), and they were yum city.

holy hell, this post got long. What a day yesterday, eh?

So that's what's happening in my neck of the woods. I start monday. Yup. Today and tomorrow I need to run around and get paperwork finalized and shit, email the school districts in whiich I sub to let them know /i am no longer available and blah blah blah.

i am also going to trot out the vibrator, because Aaron and I had alot of fun this morning, but I really wanted to be in charge and make him... well, you know what I'm getting at, but then we ran out of time for me to get off, so I'll just see to that myself :) Unless my brother-in-law comes home sick AGAIN.

So I'll likely post some writing too, since I was delinquent yesterday. Enjoyz. and thank you all for your constant encouragement, your best wishes and your belief that it would happen eventually.

Today an MTA, maybe next year a real-life, honest-to-goodness, full-time teacher in my own right?!?!?!?

hope so!

Long Night; Part 11

Yikes.  Eleven?

Interesting little side note:  When we used to play the sims ALL THE TIME Aaron actually invented a character named Eleven Delaney.  She was awesome and sexy and quirky and artsy.  Half asian too.

Now he's lamenting that I've hogged the name Delaney and he can't write a story about 'Eleven Delaney' in Cedar Falls.

I'm trying to figure out a way to work her in...

anyway.  Part 11.

We get a kinda-sorta glimpse into one of the characters we never pay much attention to-- but really?  This is more about Jonah than anything.  Not gunna lie.  It's about exploring the man with the secret as he tries desperately to maintain the life he led before the secret.

Long long long night apparently.

um,i think I'll post a deviation from the long night next, for two reasons:  The first:  I like variation and dislike getting stuck too long in one story line\time\place.  Second:  I have not finished the next segment to my satisfaction.  It took a turn I didn't expect and am not sure I want to go where it took me, not yet, maybe never.

AND i've been writing SO MUCH as far as other story lines go, so why not take a detour and give you yummy, salacious, delicious OTHER STUFF???

Anywayz.  Today you get more LONG NIGHT.  Enjoy!

*****************

Jonah crossed to his daughter’s desk and stared at the device that was emanating uninspired, angsty college folk music.  He didn’t see a dial. Or even a discernable button.  How the hell does one turn the volume down?

“Uh, Vee.”  He gestured at it, smiling apologetically.  “It’s just a little loud for a conversation.”

Vienna had flung herself onto her bed after letting him in, and now she had to drag herself up and off of it once more to deal with the music.  Every movement was an effort, every effort cost her.  She swiped her finger in a half circle on the flat surface of her music player and, as if by magic, the referential lyrics vanished to a hush, the tired guitar dwindled to a hint in the background, and the homage-laden harmonica mewled like a kitten instead of whining like a merciless banshee.  She dragged her feet back to the bed and collapsed again, miserable and mute.

Jonah tried to feel for her, he really did, but right now she was more a task than a person to him.  He’d been engaged (by his beautiful, fretful little wife) to entreat the young woman to join the rest of the family for dinner. And so he was standing in her room, gazing at her, and trying to dream up some way of accomplishing the goal, which looked, at the moment, to be an unlikely one.

“Mum send you up here?”  The girl asked, staring up at the high ceiling of her over-large, shared bedroom.

“We’re both worried about you.”  He responded dutifully.

He watched her flat stomach tense beneath her pajama tank top in a humorless laugh.  “Worried about your precious, bourgeois dinner party.”

Oh, for Christ’s sake.  This was going to be just delightful.  Who’d she been dating—Holden Caulfield?

Jonah crossed to her bed and sat gingerly at the foot of it.  When she hadn’t made a move in response, nor requested he remove himself, he relaxed a little and crossed his arms thoughtfully.  “Our primary concern is your well being, Vienna, and I think you know that.”

She huffed and threw an arm over her eyes, but she grunted in some semblance of concession.

“Of course we’d love to have you downstairs with the family—you’re a part of this family and tonight is an important night.”  He saw her lips push tight, just like they had the first time she’d tried a lemon as a toddler, and he smiled gently at the memory.  “But nobody is asking you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

She nodded beneath her arms and blew a shaky puff of air from those puckered lips.  She was trying hard not to burst into tears.

They sat in silence for a few moments; he wanted to allow her time to regulate her breathing and push away the impulse to sob.  He waited until her arm slipped off her face and she was staring at the ceiling once more, to continue.

“Want to tell me about it?”  He suggested.

“No.”

He nodded.  He didn’t really want to hear about it.  But neither one of them were going to get what they wanted tonight.

“How long had you been dating?”  He asked softly.

He saw her dart her tongue over her parched lips and swallow hard.  She shrugged.

“Vienna.”  He said, a stern but gentle command.

“Two months.  I guess. Three?”

His eyebrows lifted.  “And I never met him?”  It was a loaded question.  A very Dad-like question.

She rolled her eyes.  “Don’t start, please?”

He licked the back of his teeth and chose his next words with care.  “It strikes me as a bad sign that you didn’t have this young man over to meet your parents.”  He said, forcing a neutral tone.  “It tells me that maybe you had some doubts about him?”  Her violet eyes closed tight.  “Maybe your subconscious or your gut told you he wasn’t the right guy from the get-go?”

She covered her face with her hands just as a sob tore from her throat.

“Okay.”  He said soothingly.  “It’s okay. Shhhshhhshh.”  He patted her leg very gently and she bolted upright and wrapped her arms around his neck in one fluid and desperate movement.

He held his breath, waiting to feel something inappropriate, waiting to turn into the monster that lurked within him.  But nothing happened except a girl sobbing into his neck and mumbling indistinctly.

He exhaled and inhaled a little more freely.  And patted his daughter’s back gently.  And tried not to think about Viola.

“Slow down, Honey; slow down and tell me from the beginning.”

It took her a couple of minutes to reign in her emotions.  When she did so she unwrapped herself from him and pulled her long legs into the pretzel position.  She pushed her long auburn hair back behind her ears and sniffled.  His lips quirked.  He loved her so much.  He hadn’t been paying much attention to her lately.  To her or her twin sister.  They were so independent and busy and grown-up lately.  It was sort of sweet to see her vulnerable and in need of a hug.

He only wished she didn’t have to be broken hearted and miserable.

“He’s a sophomore at the university.”  She said on a weary exhale.  He pursed his lips but held his tongue.  “I met him at the coffee house, he’s a poet and a lyricist and a musician.”  Her voice tread the line between bitter resentment and adoring awe.

So this guy was a self-centered, egotistical, disingenuous, ass.  Wonderful.

“What’s his name?”  Jonah asked automatically.

“You don’t know him.”

“I didn’t ask if I knew him, I asked what his name is.”  Jonah responded archly.

“Dad, you don’t know him, he’s not from here, he just moved here to go to the CFU!”  She hurried, a whine creeping into her voice.

He was pretty used to knowing the people his daughters associated with.  He was in the school system.  He could pull their academic records and see who their family was and size them up pretty easily.  In many cases he’d been their sixth grade social studies teacher or their elementary school principal.

He didn’t like the idea of this unknown coffee house neo-beatnik, with a cipher for a background, sniffing around his daughter.

“Vienna.”  He said simply.

“Cash.”

Jonah just barely resisted rolling his eyes.  “Cash?”  He responded as mildly as he could manage.  “And does Cash have a last name?”

“Nassiri.”  She said, her eyes flashing, her tone a dare.

“Sounds like he’d be in a band.”  He quipped wryly before he could stop himself.

Her lips pressed firmly together and she glowered at him.  Then the expression slipped and her lips quirked.  “Dad.”  She said warningly.

“Apologies.”  He said with a small smile. 

She laughed a little.  “Cash isn’t his real name.”

“You don’t say.”

She giggled.  He grinned.

“So what happened?”  He prompted easily.

Her small smile evaporated and she looked away.  “He met someone else.”

Jonah adjusted his glasses and refused to think about Velvet and Viola.  Refused to do it. 

“How did it end?”  He asked quietly.

She ran her fingers through her hair, over her scalp, and Jonah was reminded forcibly of Nolan.  Funny how these little traits and quirks get distributed. 

She looked disgusted and miserable. “That’s the worst part!”  She moaned.  “He sent me a text.”  She turned to her father with baleful eyes.  “A goddamned text, Dad.”

Jonah nodded solemnly.  “The boy’s an idiot, Vee.”  He said decisively.

She rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue and pulled all her long red hair to one side.  He watched as she began to braid the long, straight mane restlessly.  “Dad, you don’t even know him!”  She protested.  “He’s a genius.”  She insisted.  “He’s brilliant and he’s beautiful, and he is so talented it’s almost painful, you know?”

Jonah would certainly classify the music he’d heard upon entering her room as ‘painful’, but he decided it would be best to avoid an artistic debate at present.  He was old, ergo he’d never win—right as he may well be.

“A genius?”  Jonah challenged.  “Brilliant?”  He prodded.

“You don’t know him.”  She repeated mulishly, her long fingers working steadily down her locks.

“You’re right.  I don’t.”  Jonah conceded.  “And I think we’ve already covered just why, precisely, I was never introduced to Mr. Nassiri.”  He said unsympathetically.

She blushed all over and frowned at the far bedroom wall.

“And as for his brilliance,”  Jonah continued, hell bent on saying his peace, “Any idiot who breaks up with someone via text message is not only far from a genius, he’s also a coward, and not really much of a man at all Vienna.” 

Her lower lip trembled.  She didn’t seem inclined to speak.

“Besides.”  He continued, wanting to see her smile again, wanting to hear her giggle.  “He’s obviously a fool to look at anyone else when he should have been counting his lucky stars to have you on his arm.”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a pitying, exasperated look. “Daa-aad.”

He managed not to chuckle.  “What?”  He demanded.  “You’re smart, funny, beautiful, talented, clever, well-traveled, sophisticated—“

“Well apparently none of that matters, does it?” She interrupted, her voice dancing a fragile line between anguish and acrimony.

He was thoughtful.  “Besides, what imbecile went and passed up a redhead?”  He asked in a tone of absolute wonder and bewilderment.  “Everybody knows a redhead is a real catch.”

She shook her head and a giggle slipped out.  “You’re such a dad.”  She lamented, even while smiling.

“Well.”  He shrugged.

She hugged him and he held her for a long moment, as long as she needed.  He wondered if she’d slept with the boy.  Probably.  He wondered if he’d made promises to her.  Likely.  Lied to her, and pretended, and charmed his way into her pants.  Most definitely.

He wondered if he could kill the boy and get away with it.  Less probable.

“You want me to come downstairs now, don’t you?”  Vienna asked resignedly as she pulled out of the hug and slouched against the wall, stretching her long legs out on the bed before her and flexing her pedicured toes.

“Your family loves you, Vee, and everyone would love to see you join us.”

She sighed and ran her fingers through the braid she’d started, shaking the plait loose with determination.

“Everyone will be looking at me, and pitying me, and talking about me behind my back.”  She said it without emotion.  It was a fact.

Jonah removed his glasses and began to clean them unnecessarily.  “Everyone is here to support you, and help you, and be here for whatever you need.”  He corrected.  “And moreover, this night is in honor of your brother and his new wife, so you certainly won’t have to endure being in the spotlight with this, or anything of the sort.”

They fell into a thoughtful silence for a moment or two.

“I’ll come down if you get mom to promise she won’t bring it up.  Like, at ALL.”  Vienna bargained, sounding much more like herself.

“Sound like a deal.”  Jonah said, slipping his glasses back on and smiling fondly at his daughter.  He extended his hand for a shake, and she seemed to deliberate for a few seconds before laughing and clasping her hand to his for a cordial, business-like shake.

He then got up and crossed to the door.

“Dad?” 

He stopped and turned.  “Yes, love?”

“Thanks for being you.”  She said with complete sincerity.

His gut twisted painfully and he felt a slippery coldness wriggle down his spine.

“Thanks for being a good sport on this kiddo.  I know you’re hurting.”

She shrugged and sniffled a little.  “Be down in a few, k?”

“Ok.”  He said with a nod.  He paused in the doorway, not quite ready to leave the safezone of the twins’ room for the no-man’s-land of the hall.  Where Viola was likely waiting to prey on him.  “Uncle Caleb’s broken up with Gideon.”  He told her.  “It was pretty awful.  Maybe you could do me a favor and make sure he has an ok night tonight?”

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a concerned and curious look.  “You got it.”  She responded kindly.

“That’s my girl.”  He said, and, taking a deep breath, pulled open the door and braced himself for the rest of the evening.

A monday in autumn.

aaron has car trouble.

I got a speeding ticket.

Debt is piling up and ends just aren't meeting, somehow.

Still there's love.  Always love.  rich and full and pervasive and bolstering love.

It's autumn now, really truly autumn.  My very favorite season.

I just don't think we can keep going.  Something's really gotta give, and I'm so sick of holding my breath.

Also?  Autumn is the time of year that makes me start eyeing real-estate.  It makes me want to nest.  To put down roots and have my very own hearth and home, not a rented one or a borrowed one or a temporary one. 

This autumn i have fallen in love with a few already and my heart aches for the day Aaron and I can even THINK about looking for our first house.  Honestly?  I'm thinking it isn't likely to be for a long, long time.  As we stand now we'll be lucky just to keep the apartment.

Sorry.  I didn't intend this to pour out of my fingers when I sat down.  I actually had a lovely day.  Not sure where this is coming from.

I guess it's just that point in the cycle where this all surfaces, rears it's ugly head and stares at me from the mirror. 

So here it be.  here I am.  here we all are.

And there is love.  Still.  Despite all odds, love.  Enduring, persisting, relentless and inspiring love.

So amen to that.

And I'm sorry, so, so sorry i killed that spider yesterday.  I wish I could have that fateful moment over to try again!!

Engaged?!?!?

Hi!

My best friend from high school just got ENGAGED!! YAYAYAYAYYYYY! I love her to pieces, though we never get to see eachother any more. Anyway, she sent me this whole email telling me about the proposal, and i know girls love engagement stories, so I thought i'd post it, since it is a pretty well orchestrated one.

I've never met the man -YET- but he seems to make her over-the-moon-happy, they've been living together (happily) for a while now and I am very very thrilled for her!

(admit it ladies, there are ones you're happy for and then ones you are NOT! lol)

********************

Hi all!

As you already know, David asked me to marry him yesterday, and of course, I said yes!

Here are the details:

David's parents live in Santa Fe, and are here in Boston occasionally for business. David's father, is an overseer at the New England Aquarium. The ruse to get me there was that his father was in town for just a couple of days and wanted to take us to dinner, but had a meeting at the Aquarium first, so he asked David and I to meet him there afterward for dinner in the North End. He also offered to arrange a behind the scenes tour for us while we were waiting for his meeting to finish. When we arrived they told us the tour guide would meet us at a particular window at the large ocean tank. As we were waiting we watched the divers feeding the fish right in front of our window. Unbeknownst to me David had arranged for them to dive down to the window where they were standing, and pulled out a sign from the feeding bag that said "Alison, you are the only fish in the sea for me", which then flipped over to read "Will you marry me?" Then he got down on one knee with the ring, gave his speech - and my first reaction was "Are you serious?" (since it was a little surreal) followed by a resounding "Yes!" then spontaneous cheers and clapping from the huge crowd standing around us.

In the meantime, our neighbor was in disguise standing right behind us videotaping the whole thing, and my parents and brother, along with David's parents and brothers hung out in the background to watch from a distance, then joined us at the tank. What a surprise!!! We then went to a room that had been reserved for us where we had champagne, chocolate-covered strawberries and swapped all the background stories that led up to the event. Apparently this was in the works for almost 2 months and everyone involved managed to keep it a secret!

When our time was over there, David had arranged for a limo to take us home where i was told i had an hour to pack an overnight bag and to change into nice clothes, but wasn't allowed to know any more details. We ended up at the Mandarin Oriental hotel in Back Bay where David had got us a room for the evening and arranged a very special dinner at their restaurant, Asana. We had been there a year before and had the best steaks either of us have ever eaten, and a very memorable meal overall.

So several weeks ago, David called the restaurant and ordered us the same main course: Wagyu steaks (Kobe beef) with chanterelle mushrooms and grilled ramps, only to discover that it was a special and they didn't carry that type of steak anymore! After some of David's classic charm, he convinced them to special order the steaks for us and also to prepare them exactly the same way we had them last time. The meal was beautiful and also included more champagne, red wine, leek and potato soup, freshly made Caesar salad, and then for dessert a coffee souffle and a CHEESE platter!

After dinner we made our way to the room where the staff had covered the bed in rose petals and delivered another bottle of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries. It was a truly amazingday and I am an extremely lucky woman!


No wedding plans yet, we're going to sit back and enjoy being engaged for a little while before we start the whirlwind of wedding planning.

Alison :)

p.s. Sarah and Beth I can't wait for you to meet him!!!

Long Night; Part 10

Good morning! Happy Saturday!

I have to go to professional development today! Something called NEDS. Sounds like a schmuck, doesn't it? I', sure you can't wait to hear all about the riveting world of an after-school care educator!

But i get paid to go, and apparently there will be breakfast pastries, so off i go! The saving grace is that I get to go with Aaron. If this were some theatre teacher conference i could bet on having more fun and caring more about the shit, and maybe seeing some old friends, but at least here i get to be with my bestie (and, incidentally, the man who gave it to me but good last night when Eric & Gina went out for a couple hours to see eric's friends--score for me!!).

So before I depart for fucking WAYLAND MA (where????), let me put up part 10.

This is Ben. Danielle had a question about Mr. Sinclair. Here you find out a smidgen more.

Short but loaded with some ammo.

See you all on the flip side of NEDS!

****************

Ben tried not to know too much about other people’s sex lives.  He wasn’t a prude or anything, he just, that stuff was private.  He especially disliked knowing anything at all about his parent’s sex lives.  He always got red around the collar whenever his mother made ribald jokes—which is something she had the tendency to do around Jonah and Velvet Delaney.

He remembered their family vacations with the Delaneys as distinctly awkward for him because of the easy camaraderie between the three adults.  They teased eachother mercilessly, threaded everything with double entendres, and if they’d had just a little too much to drink they started getting very frank on topics Ben would rather never even imagine his mother discussing, let alone overhear it.

And he’d often had occasion to wonder about just how close the three of them really were.  The summer they’d all gone to the Bennett cabin upstate, the summer he’d turned thirteen, Grey had alluded to the notion that perhaps their parents liked to bunk together when everyone else had gone to sleep.  Ben knew Grey’d said it to get a rise out of him, to needle him, and he’d laughed it off.  Dismissed it.  Pretended it hadn’t bothered him.

But ever since then he’d wondered.  They were, all three of them, best friends.  Could it be out of the realm of possibility?  He really didn’t like thinking about it.  He already knew more than he’d like to about his father’s affairs.  He’d known too much about all that from about the age of five.  And perhaps the most uncomfortable thought of all was the notion that maybe he couldn’t blame his mother for seeking a physical arrangement outside of her marriage.  It baffled him that his parents were still married, actually.

But the idea of her engaging in those activities with Velvet and Jonah made him feel uneasy.  He’d been raised to think of them as his aunt and uncle.  Thinking of his mother with them felt way too close to incest.  It was weird.  They were going to be his parents-in-law for Christ’s sake!

So when he bounded up to the open front door of the Delaney mansion and heard Velvet commenting about his mother’s ass and about spankings in that very suggestive tone of voice, he just wasn’t able to maintain his composure.  He felt like an ass for blushing like a schoolboy, especially when they laughed at his discomfort, but it was quite beyond him to control his gut reaction to their flirting.  He hoped they would refrain from playing that particular pet game this evening.  The evening promised to be long enough without that fun little repartee that made his skin crawl and his ears burn.

He hung the coats in the closet and was grateful his father had taken the hint and opted not to attend.  The tension that sparked between Holden and Jonah in confined spaces was enough to give Ben a sour stomach.  He often wondered how the two of them would conduct themselves at the wedding.  He was comforted by the fact that Jonah Delaney was an upright fellow.  The best man he knew, really, and that he could be counted on to behave like a gentleman.

But there was going to be open bar and Ben’s dad was not a merry drunk.  Holden Sinclair liked to pick fights when he was drunk.  And worse, he liked to brag about his conquests and he liked to hit on young women.  Ben knew Jonah well enough to know that the man would not be able to tolerate Holden disrespecting Grace in his presence.  Ben often wished he and Avalon could elope.

He closed the closet door with a sigh and moved to check his hair in the mirror.  He was displeased to see that his cheeks were still slightly stained with high color.

“You look good enough to eat.”  Avalon’s voice purred from the dining room archway.

He smiled and turned to face her.  His eyes scanned her from her toes to her eyes.  “And you look pretty darn delicious yourself.”  He murmured appreciatively. 

She smiled and moved toward him with a small laugh.  “I could kill you for being so late.”  She cautioned him even as she moved into his waiting arms.  “It’s been a damned nightmare here without you.”

He gave her a sympathetic look and then kissed her deeply.  “That help at all?”  He asked when they drew back to look at one another.

She smiled briefly and then frowned, her eyes doing a quick scan of the foyer before fixing him with an intense purple stare.  “Gideon was cheating on my uncle.”  She told him in a quiet but fierce tone of voice. 

Ben was stunned.  “Oh no.”  He said, a rush of sympathy chasing the shock.

“And my sister’s boyfriend just broke up with her because he’s ‘met someone else’.”  She said.  Ben registered the accusatory edge to her words, but chose not to respond to it.

“That singer?”  He asked.  Ben had figured that guy for a sleaze from the get-go.

“Is there anything you need to tell me?”  She asked, her body going stiff in his arms, her lips getting thin, and one dark eyebrow lifting expectantly.

Jesus.  This was the last thing he wanted to do this evening.

“That I love you, and adore you, and that I can’t wait till you’re my wife?”  He asked with a soft smile.  He did not want to be dragged into one of her flights of unfounded jealousy.

“My grandmother says all men cheat.”  She said without acknowledging his warm sentiment.

Ben’s smile fell and he clenched his jaw.  “Your grandmother is wrong.”  He said firmly.  Many less polite comments leapt to mind, but he held his tongue.

“She’s also been kind enough to remind me about what a brazen philanderer you father is.”  She added, a hint of a challenge in those violet eyes of hers.

Ben kept his features as passive as he was able while roundly cursing that old bitch up and down in his head.  “I am not my father.”  He said after a heavy moment of silence.  He was sensitive about the issue.  He felt as though every girl he’d ever dated had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for him to look too long at a passing waitress, waiting for suspicious e-mails or texts, waiting for him to follow some genetic path to infidelity.

And if the girls weren’t bad enough, their parents were worse.  Even Jonah had changed toward him when he’s started dating Avalon.  Uncle Jonah, the man he’d looked up to all his life, the man he considered his role model and mentor.  The man he’d wished was his real father on more than one occasion, though he’d never tell that to another living soul as long as he lived.  That Jonah.  Had suddenly become somewhat aloof, distant, and Ben couldn’t deny it, he’d become extremely protective of his daughter.

Ben started calling him Mr. Delaney more often than Jonah or Uncle, and he’d lost a lot of the camaraderie they’d once enjoyed.  Only when Ben had gone to the man to ask for Avalon’s hand in marriage did the relationship begin to revert back to the way it had been.  They’d had a very long, somewhat awkward, but overall cathartic talk, man-to-man, in his study, and since then things had been getting a lot better—slowly but surely.

“If you ever cheat on me—“  She began.

Ben dropped his arms from around her.  “Don’t.”  he told her, his voice a clear warning.

Avalon Delaney did not respond well to warnings, threats, or ultimatums.

“Don’t?!”  She hissed.  “Don’t what, stand up for myself?  Don’t call you out?  Don’t pretend you’re not a man just like every other cheating piece of—“

“Avalon, I’m not the one who’s cheated.”  He said, desperate and yes, angry.  He shouldn’t have said it.  He regretted the words as they left his lips.

She froze.  He already felt awful. 

“You swore you were over that.”  She whispered.

“I am.  I’m sorry—“

“You said you forgave me.  How many times do I have to apologize for it?  What do I have to do to make you forget it?”  Tears were welling up in her beautiful eyes and he wished he could punch himself in the jaw for causing her this pain.

“I’m an ass.”  He said, reaching for her, but she turned away.  “I’m so sorry angel, please, look at me.”

He watched her shake her head and cross her arms.  She was putting on the armor.

“I guess I’ll just never be good enough for you, right?”

“Ava, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me—please honey, look at me.  I love you.  Please.  I’m so, so, so sorry I brought that up.  I’m an idiot.  It was small and cheap of me.”  He placed a cautious hand on her shoulder.  She shrugged it off and moved a few more steps away from him.

“Whatever.”  She said, her voice rigid and unforgiving.  “Let’s just slap happy smiles on our face and get through tonight.  If you still have doubts about me we’ll call off the wedding, but let’s have the courtesy to wait until after this goddamn dinner.”

Then, without looking back at him, she strode out of the foyer toward the living room.

Ben rand a hand over his face from scalp to neck and stared blankly at the magnificent staircase before him.  What a nightmare.  This was going to be an excruciatingly long night.

Long Night; Part 9

Hey!

Shaping up to be a long ass night here-- my brother in law is super grumpy!

Anywho.

Also, i'm sick :( boo, and I have to go to professional development tomorrow :(

And right now all i wanna do is curl up with sookie and go to bed (and have awesome taboo sex), but what i need to do is the dishes--grumpalump! The tension in here because of my brother in law and his GF is so thick I feel like I can't even breather! I almost feel like I need to get out of here, but wait, this is my fucking home!! yikesaroni!

Work today was super fun. I like my aftercare job. i just wish I didn't have a headcold-- it makes me a bitchasaurus rex.

K, enjoy the next segment!

****************

“I thought I heard the bell!  Hello handsome, how are you?”  Velvet was always very glad to see her youngest brother-in-law.  She hurried into the foyer, removing an apron as she hastened to deliver a kiss of welcome to both his cleanly shaven cheeks.  He smelled great.  “Is that the new cologne from the boutique?”

He grinned.  “You’re a goddess, you know that?  Jonah you married a goddess.”

“Don’t I know it.”  Jonah responded adoringly while he helped her with the stubborn apron string knot.

Velvet giggled.  Everything was just about ready, and to her mind Caleb had arrived not a moment too soon because all the free time to mingle was causing unprecedented amounts of tension around the house.  Her mother was being especially prickly, which she had somewhat anticipated.  But Jonah wasn’t quite himself, Grey seemed unenthusiastic, Viola was moody, Avalon was uptight, Vienna was upstairs in a tailspin with a broken heart, and even Nolan seemed less genial than usual.  What was going on with her family this evening?!

“You’re too sweet.”  She gushed at Caleb, who she really thought of as her own younger brother and not just an in-law.  He’d been young when she’d gotten together with Jonah, so she’d been a part of his growing up.  She’d been there for so many of his formative years, and she’d dedicated herself to being present and involved in his world.  He was one of her favorite friends.  Hell, he and Gideon could gossip till the wee hours of a cocktail party and never run out of juicy bits to treat her with.  “Where’s Gideon?  You took separate cars?”  She asked, with a small frown.  Dinner was ready and Ben had yet to arrive with Grace.  Now it looked like Gideon would be late as well.

“He won’t be joining us this evening, Love.”  Jonah answered when Caleb looked stumped.

Velvet blinked.  “Oh?”  She was having trouble figuring this one out.  “Is everything all right?”  She couldn’t imagine anything mundane keeping Gideon away from one of her dinner parties.  He loved socializing and he loved the family.  And Velvet was certain there was no way he would willingly pass up the opportunity to finally meet Grey’s new bride.

“We’re not together anymore.”  Caleb leveled, sounding tired and resigned.

Velvet felt her eyebrows rise to the top of her forehead and her eyes get wide.  “Oh, no, really?  Oh no.  Oh Caleb.  What happened?  Are you ok?”  She had a million more little nothings to mutter but Jonah’s hand on her shoulder reminded her to get a hold of her tongue.

“Maybe you two can have lunch tomorrow?  I’m sure Cale doesn’t want to drag all that out tonight—this is a happy occasion.”  Jonah said gently.

“But—“  Velvet felt torn.  She wanted to know everything, be there for her brother, listen to his woes and help however she could.  But she also had a house full of guests waiting for their dinner and to meet the newest member of the family. 

“No, Jones is right Vell, Let’s do lunch and I’ll give you all the sordid details when I can get good and liquored up.”

Velvet tried to smile but failed.  She crossed to him and wrapped him in a firm hug.  He was much taller than her, almost as tall as his brothers, but part of her would always see only the young boy she used to hug when he’d come to her with all his confusion and angst and trouble with his father. 

“We love you.”  She said, speaking for the whole family.

He hugged her back.  “I know.  I love you guys.”  He said quietly.  “Thank you.”  He added meaningfully.

She pulled back from the hug and looked into his deep blue eyes.  “Did he cheat on you?”  She asked in a hushed tone.

He didn’t need to say anything.  Velvet saw it flash across his expression as clearly as if he’d painted a sign.  Poor baby.  Delaney Curse.  She hugged him again, her heart bursting with empathy.

He cleared his throat and sniffed twice before patting her back with some finality.  “Forget that jerk.”  He said with a forced laugh.  “I’m dying to meet this wonderful new daughter you’ve acquired.  You’ve been talking my ear off for two weeks—don’t hold out on me, direct me to the bride!” 

She giggled weakly.  “You’ll just love her.”

“So you’ve said, about a hundred times.”  He teased.

“Sweetheart, is there anything you still need me to do?”  Jonah asked, folding her apron neatly.

Velvet flashed him a smile.  He was perfect.  She reminded herself how lucky she was to have him.  She knew he could never find out about her semi-annual indiscretions.  She loved him more than life.   She would crumble into a million pieces if he left her.

“Hey—you ok?”  He asked quietly.  Her smile had faded while she was lost in thought. 

“Just thinking.”  She lied brightly.  “Could you make sure there’s enough champagne on ice?”

“Sure thing.”  He responded, then leaned down to kiss her brow before wandering off toward the kitchen.

“No, first see if you can talk to Vee—can you?”

“Let me do the champagne first.”  He decided with a sigh.

“Oh, and be an angel and text Grace—tell her to hurry the hell up!”

She heard Jonah chuckle from somewhere within the dining room.

“Next time I see that two-timing prick I’ll cut his cheating cock off.”  She said when Jonah was out of earshot.

Caleb guffawed.  “I love you sis.”  He said when he’d caught his breath.  “Now really, fetch the blushing bride already.”

Velvet tisked and shook her head, but decided not to press the issue any further tonight.  “I think they’re in the den.  I’m not sure.  Grey’s doing his best to keep her away from my mother.”

“You raised a smart boy.”  Caleb said wryly as they started toward the living room together.  “So any more word on why they up and eloped like that?”  He asked in an intrigued whisper.  “I mean it’s all so very scandalous.”

Velvet tittered.  “My mother is downright furious about it.”  She conceded.  “’It’s the talk of the town and none of it too favorable!’”  She parroted her mother, eliciting a snort of laughter from Caleb.

“Oh my God I’ve heard it all—“  Caleb agreed with a playful smile.  “The most popular story at the radio station involves a Spanish art heist and her father being the heir to the abdicated thrown of Mexico, like before they overthrew the monarchy and established democracy or whatever—so she’s got all this wealth and prestige tied up in an ancient Mayan temple somewhere, but she can’t get to it because of the Mexican army and, oh shit, I forget the bit about the Pope and the Catholic church getting involved, but long story short, Grey rescued the penniless but regal damsel while he was spending winter break in Cabo.”

Velvet’s mouth fell open in astonishment.  “What would Grey be doing involved in a Spanish art heist?  He doesn’t know the first thing about art.”  She wondered.

Caleb laughed uproariously.  “That’s the only part that seems far-fetched?!”

The doorbell rang just as they were getting to the den.  It sounded like Zahra was in there with Genny and at least one or two of Nolan’s kids. 

“I’ve gotta get that Sweetie, Just go ahead, Grey’ll make the introductions—If you can find him!”  She gave his arm a little squeeze and spun on her heel back toward the foyer.

She could hear Caleb’s falsely buoyant entrance to the den as she hurried to answer the door.  Poor Caleb.  She’d have to put her thinking cap on and come up with a better match for the guy.  He deserved to be happy.

She swung the door open with a wide smile, happy to see her best girlfriend on the front step.  But Grace Sinclair was engrossed in the little blue screen of her cell.  She held up a finger to halt her friend’s greeting before Velvet could manage a ‘hello!’

“Did you tell me to hurry the hell up and get my sweet ass over here unless I want a spanking later?”  She asked, arching a perfect golden eyebrow and cocking her head to the side quizzically.

Velvet clucked her tongue.  Jonah.  “I delegated the texting to an associate.”  She confessed.

Grace laughed.  “Damn.  Here I thought my sex dreams were finally coming true.”

Velvet stepped aside to allow her friend to sweep into the foyer, then wrapped her in a hug.  “I’ll spank that perfect ass anytime you want, you just say when, where, and how hard.”

That was the moment Ben arrived at the door, jogging up the walk with a covered tray of some kind.  Velvet giggled at the expression on his face.

“Hi Ben.”  She said sweetly, releasing the blushing young man’s mother and reaching for the covered tray.

Ben’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he cleared his throat and managed a weak greeting as he handed off the tray. 

Grace laughed at her son’s blushing embarrassment.  “I made a cheesecake.”  She explained about the tray. 

Velvet gushed her thanks for the dessert before turning to kiss Ben’s reddened cheeks in greeting.  “Be a doll and hang up your mother’s coat too, will you Ben?  Avalon’s in the kitchen, I think.  I’ll send her your way.”

He nodded agreeably and took his mother’s coat. 

“Grace, there’s so much to tell you I don’t even know where to begin.”  She whispered as they started toward the kitchen.  She needed to figure out a way to fit the cheesecake in the refrigerator.

“Velvet, honey, focus, and prioritize.”  Grace was less tolerant of Velvet’s stream-of-consciousness babbling than Jonah was. 

“Ok.”  Said Velvet, trying hard to prioritize.  “Gideon cheated on Caleb so they’ve split, Avalon is thinking about changing the venue again, Vienna’s in her room crying her eyes out over some folk-rock college band singer and she won’t come out no matter what I say, my mother’s insulted every single one of my guests already, I burned the shortbread--so good thing you brought a cheesecake, and Grey threatened to leave if we didn’t make his grandmother leave.”  Phew.  Velvet managed to finish all that just as they reached the door to the kitchen.

“Impressive.”  Grace said with a smile.  “Breathe.”

Velvet did as she was commanded.

“I think you may have some screwy priorities, but I think I got the gist.”  She teased.  “I can’t believe it about Gideon!”  She whispered.

“I know.”  Velvet replied, commiserating.

“So did she leave?”

“What?”

“Your mother—did she leave, or did Grey?”

“Oh!”  Velvet rolled her eyes.  “Jonah fixed it—for now, but Grey’s in one of his moods, so be an angel and help me keep the peace?”

Grace smirked and she put her hand on the kitchen door, ready to swing it open.  “Isn’t that why I was invited?”

Velvet bit her lip and smiled. “I have a feeling this is going to be a long evening.”  She confessed.