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Flirting with Fire, Chapter 1 (Complete)
🕑 Added 2021-01-05 05:23:20 +0000 UTCNote from Nick: Crap! I was trying to make a midnight deadline but I missed it by 🤏 much. I told you I'd post it "today," but that was technically yesterday. Sorry about that.
I'd forgotten how many moving parts went into each of these Complete Chapter posts, plus the VIP e-book (coming shortly).
Anyway, that's enough whining.
On the upside, the book has a working title, Flirting with Fire. Yay!
Tell me what you think in the comments below.
✧ ✧ ✧
Chapter 1
Christy was running late, as usual, and she was packing for a trip, which only made things worse. So far, she’d pulled out a hanging bag for dresses, a rolling suitcase for shoes and regular clothes, and an overnight bag for all the other things she couldn’t live without—for a week.
The trip was actually two weeks, but she’d only need clothes for one of them, swim camp with Laurie. The whole family would be at the Pines for the other, where we’d only need sunscreen. Still, I knew better than to tease her. Dresses and shoes and jewelry made her happy.
“What time are you supposed to pick them up?” I said instead.
She reflexively glanced at her wrist before she scanned the nightstand and dresser.
“Bathroom counter,” I said helpfully.
She had a habit of leaving things wherever she took them off, and I had a habit of paying attention to them. I called them bunny tracks, and I could usually follow the trail to find her.
Be vewy, vewy quiet, I grinned to myself. I’m hunting wabbits.
“I heard that,” she warned. Then she disappeared into the bathroom and was gone for a couple of minutes. She returned wearing her watch, a necklace, and a matching pair of earrings, the Celtic trinity knots the girls had given her for her fortieth birthday.
“Much better,” I said, more or less sincerely. “Now, what time are you—?”
“Now! Of course. Mr. Punctual.”
I completely failed to suppress a grin.
“Ugh! Will you call her?”
I flipped open my cell phone and scrolled down to Wren. She answered on the second ring.
“She’s running late,” I said without preamble. “The usual.”
Wren and I both knew how Christy worked. We routinely added fifteen minutes whenever she said she’d do something at a certain time.
“Remind me why I believe her when she says she’ll be on time?” Wren laughed.
“No clue. You think we’d learn.”
“But she’s always so sincere,” Wren complained fondly. “Like this time she’s really gonna change.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay. About how long, do you think?”
I gave the suitcases a quick scan and then added time for loading the van and saying goodbye. Fortunately, Wren only lived next door, although it was still a three-minute drive.
“Twenty minutes?” I said. “Maybe thirty?”
Christy squawked indignantly, but Wren simply laughed.
“Is she sure she doesn’t want me to drive? We just had the oil changed in the van.”
“She’s sure,” I answered for her. “Besides, our van has the entertainment center for the girls.”
“Yeah, okay,” Wren said. “Tell her we’ll be ready when she gets here.”
“Will do.” We said goodbye and ended the call.
“Funny, ha ha,” Christy said. “It won’t take thirty minutes.”
She was right, but only because it was closer to forty by the time I wheeled and carried her suitcases outside. In her defense, we had to wait on Laurie too. She could wear makeup now that she was thirteen, and she’d inherited Christy’s sense of time. She packed like her too—or rather, she overpacked like her—so I loaded five suitcases into the back of the van, not counting Laurie’s backpack.
I returned to the house and opened the door. “Emily! Susie!” I hollered. “They’re leaving! Come say goodbye!”
Two dogs came running first, Spike and Buck, black Labs of the goofy variety. They barreled down the hallway and would have run through me if I hadn’t stepped aside. They spilled into the garage and then circled in confusion.
“Go on,” I told them, “Laurie’s out in the driveway.” I even pointed.
They couldn’t see the van because my Denali was in the way, so they didn’t believe me. Spike thought she might be hiding in the workshop, and Buck followed to investigate.
“Guys, outside.”
I was just about to tell Laurie to call them when their heads snapped around. I stepped into the house, and they bolted past me in a headlong rush.
Emily appeared from the direction of the stairs, followed by Molly, a yellow Lab who was the complete opposite of the other two. She was mothering and protective, like Emily herself.
“Where’s Susie?” I asked. Molly looked up, like she wanted to know too.
“Upstairs,” Emily said. “Why?”
I raised an eyebrow. Please go get her.
Emily huffed and headed upstairs to find her sister. Molly went with her. They returned a minute later with Susie in tow.
“What?” the younger girl was saying. “I didn’t hear! Ugh.”
“Chop-chop,” I said.
“Why do we have to rush?” Emily complained. “Weren’t they supposed to leave, like, an hour ago?”
“Preaching to the choir,” I said. “But Mom and Laurie are special. They don’t tell time like we do.”
“And me,” Susie chirped brightly. “I tell time just fine.”
“You do,” I agreed. Then I stepped into the garage and waved them past me.
“Come on, Mols,” Emily said, and the dog’s nails clicked on the concrete as she trotted to keep up.
Susie remembered to pull the door closed behind her. She beamed up at me, my bright-eyed princess. She could be moody too, especially when she didn’t get her way, but it rarely lasted. She and I shared the same basic temperament, more than either of her sisters. She also had a pragmatic streak that I took credit for, although I hadn’t found mine until my thirties.
Case in point, her name. She’d wanted us to call her Susan when her namesake godmother had died, but we’d struggled with the change. We’d called her Susie for years, after all. She also seemed to understand that “Susan” was another person, at least as far as I was concerned. And so she’d changed her mind with her usual sunny outlook.
“That’s okay. Teachers call me Susan at school, especially the first day. I suppose you can call me Susie. Or Boo. I like that too. It makes me sound scary!”
I returned from my woolgathering and realized she was waiting for me. She smiled again, tenderly, like she knew I’d been thinking about the other Susan. Then she gave me a hug. I returned it and marveled at the caring little person we’d brought into the world.
“What was that for?” I asked.
“I dunno. It just seemed like you needed it.”
“I did. Thank you. Now… let’s go say goodbye.”
✧ ✧ ✧
I gave Laurie a hug and then held her at arm’s length.
“Do your best. And don’t forget to have fun.”
“Thanks, Dad, I will.” She forced a smile but was still anxious.
I hugged her again and kissed the top of her head. She was already two inches taller than Christy, yet still a girl, slim and self-conscious.
“I love you, and I’ll talk to you tonight.” Her arms tightened around me. I glanced at Christy, but she was busy saying goodbye to the younger girls. “Don’t tell her I told you,” I added to Laurie in a low voice, “but your mom’s talking about a cell phone for your birthday.”
Laurie nodded but still wasn’t ready to let go, so I held her, an island of stability in the whirlwind.
“You can do this,” I told her, and she nodded with more confidence than she actually felt.
Then Emily called out, and Laurie and I stepped apart. We looked up the driveway as Spike and Buck scrambled to investigate. They greeted Wren and Missy and wagged their tails furiously.
“We got tired of waiting,” Wren called, “so we decided to walk.”
Their house was only a few hundred yards away as the crow flies, but forest and a shallow inlet separated us. Humans with rolling suitcases had to go the long way around, at least a ten-minute walk. The dogs escorted them the rest of the way.
Wren and Missy handed me their suitcases, and I loaded them in the van without comment. Missy wore a backpack as well, but that was it.
“So sue me,” Christy said.
“What?” Wren blurted. “I didn’t say anything!”
“He did,” Christy said. “And you were thinking it.”
“Thinking what? Never mind. Are we ready to go?” She looked at her watch. “Registration closes at seven, so we’d better get going.”
“What? We have plenty of time! It’s only a six-hour drive.” She waved the MapQuest printout as proof.
“What about gas and bathroom breaks?”
“What about them?” Christy said stubbornly. “They won’t take long. Like… what? Ten minutes?”
Wren’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Never mind,” Christy said. “Are we ready to go?”
“Didn’t I just say that?”
“It’s what she does,” I said.
Wren gave up and laughed, “Oh, my love… yes, we’re ready.”
I kissed Christy goodbye. “Drive safe. And call when you get to the hotel.”
“I will.”
I gave Laurie another hug and reassured her in a low voice, “You’ll be fine.”
“I know. Only…” She sighed. “I wish you were coming.”
“I know, sweetie. You and Mom’ll have fun, though.”
Laurie squeezed me again and then climbed into the van. Christy gave me a cheerful wave before she pushed the button to close the side door.
Spike and Buck immediately lost interest when the van pulled away. They decided to chase a black and orange butterfly instead. The poor thing fluttered across the yard as they took turns snapping at it. Molly yawned and settled to the warm concrete beside Emily. Dog and girl watched until the van disappeared into the forest. Then Emily huffed in frustration.
“I bet Mom forgot to tell you about the party, didn’t she?”
That wasn’t the question I’d been expecting. “Party? What party?”
“Ugh!” She stomped toward the garage. Molly leapt up in surprise and trotted after her.
Susie and I watched them go.
“Do you know what she’s talking about?” I asked her.
“Madison’s birthday party. Tomorrow.”
My thoughts immediately went to Madison’s mother. The little head perked up, but I did my best to ignore him. Christy hadn’t even been gone ten minutes. I could survive a week without sex.
Fortunately, Susie had inherited her mother’s eyes but not her telepathy.
“It’s at two,” she said. “I think. Only…” She frowned and tried to recall.
“Em will know,” I said. “Do you remember where?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Their house.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
“Mom really didn’t tell you?”
“She probably did,” I fibbed, “but I must’ve forgotten. No worries. We’ll make it work. Do we need to buy a present?”
Susie shrugged.
“Okay. Well, let’s go find out.”
The little head wasn’t ready to change the subject. Allie Ramos! Can you imagine—?
Yes, I snapped at him. Yes, I can. So I don’t need you to do it for me.
Suit yourself. But you know what I think. She’s a total MILF.
I sighed to myself. Forty years old and my dick is still leading me around.
✧ ✧ ✧
Trip appeared in my office doorway. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”
He paused to unbutton his cuffs and then began rolling up his sleeves. He walked across the length of the room and reached my desk about the time he finished his sleeves.
“What’s so funny?” he said.
“You. I can tell what time it is just by looking at you.”
He wore a suit in the morning, removed the coat after lunch, and relaxed at the end of the day. As if he could read my mind, he reached up to loosen his tie.
“Whatever,” he said mildly. Then he gestured toward the front of the building to explain why he’d come looking for me. “I saw Emily raiding Shari’s candy drawer.”
“I told her she could,” I said.
“Yeah, sure, no problem. But… I thought you started your vacation today.”
“I did. But I had to take the girls shopping.”
“Girls…? I only saw one.”
“Susie’s around here somewhere, probably at one of the Revit workstations.” She had the architecture bug, even at age eight. “Anyway,” I continued, “we needed a birthday present for a party tomorrow. And since we were in the area, I decided to stop by. Barbara wanted me to look at the middle school plans. I can do it from home, but…”
I gestured at the array of monitors on my side desk, a trio of 21” flat-screen Sonys. They cost a fortune and weighed a ton, but they made my job so much easier, especially compared to my pitiful 19” dual-monitor setup at home.
“Ah, okay,” Trip said. “Do you wanna chat for a few when you’re done?”
“I’m done now. Your office?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I saved the job-tracking spreadsheet and followed him to the other side of the building. His office was half the size of mine but still large, a working office for the president. Mine had been designed to impress, a suite with an executive boardroom at one end and my sprawling desk at the other. I’d wanted a simple office like his, but Wren had overruled me. Worse, she’d done it by appealing to my vanity.
“You’re the CEO. Your name’s on the building. Literally. You can’t have a regular office. Go big or go home.”
Trip had agreed. That wasn’t surprising, although he’d never teased me about it. He had his flaws, but office envy wasn’t one of them. Besides, he used the difference to ruthless effect. He schmoozed with new clients in my office but negotiated fees and contracts in his.
Trip sank into his leather office chair and breathed a heavy sigh. He opened a sideboard and withdrew a crystal decanter, followed by a matching pair of tumblers. The crystal was Baccarat, a present from Wren for his fortieth birthday, and the whiskey was some kind of expensive Jack Daniel’s. He poured a generous splash for himself and then looked at me with raised eyebrows.
“No, but thanks.” I hadn’t said yes for almost two years, but he still made the offer. It was a gesture of camaraderie more than anything.
“No problem.” He set the decanter aside and lifted his glass in a toast. “Happy wife, happy life.” It would’ve been half-sarcastic a decade ago, but it was sincere now.
“Amen,” I agreed.
He sat back, inhaled the fumes, and relaxed. I gave him a moment to enjoy the first taste before I started on the project updates. I kept them to a minimum, since Emily and Susie had already been waiting an hour. They were content to play by themselves, but I didn’t want to keep them waiting any longer than I had to. That was my part of the bargain, wasn’t it? Happy wife, happy life?
Speaking of which…, the little head said. Have you thought about Allie? Now that she’s single, I bet she—
I ignored him and paid attention to Trip instead.
“Sounds good,” he was saying. “Alex can handle anything that comes up while you’re gone.”
“Yeah, or Whitney.”
“Absolutely.” He took a sip of whiskey and changed the subject. “Big plans next week?”
“Get ready for the board meeting.”
“Board meeting? Oh, right! The York-MacLean thing.”
“Yeah. It’s been a year—” My eyes stung and my throat closed up. Still, I tried again, “I mean, a year—”
Trip found something interesting in his whiskey glass, while I wiped my eyes and waited for the grief to pass. I still couldn’t think about Susan’s death with any kind of detachment.
“Sorry,” I said at last.
“No problem. It… um… it takes time.”
“Yeah.” I eventually cleared my throat and continued, “Anyway, it’s our full board meeting for the year.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, of course. We get a lot of mileage out of the non-profit work. And not just tax breaks,” he added. “It’s a unique selling point, and it’s good for PR.”
He was right. Our work for Habitat for Humanity and AmeriCorps routinely brought in new clients who wanted to share the association. Most of it was the sort of empty activism that corporations pretended to engage in, but we were happy to take their money and use it to help actual people.
“I hate to say it,” Trip finished, “but your ‘socially conscious’ nonsense has infected me too.”
I grinned and then paused when I realized it was genuine. Trip could cheer me up when no one else could, including Christy. The fact that he cared spoke volumes about our relationship.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t call it ‘nonsense’?” I suggested.
It was a running joke. Trip still liked to pretend he was a ruthless capitalist, but it was mostly for show these days.
“Anyway,” he said into the silence, “let me know what you all decide. I’ll make sure we can pay our share.”
“Thanks,” I said, and meant it. I’d have been a socially conscious nobody if not for Trip’s business sense. He gave me a moment before he returned to his original question.
“Any personal plans for next week?”
“Yeah. Dance camp with Em and Suse.”
“Dance camp? Oh, yeah, I forgot. Sorry, I stopped paying attention when Missy dropped it for swimming.” He frowned in thought. “Hold on, do you have to go too?”
“No, but I have to drop them off and pick them up.” I paused and then asked, “What about you? Big plans while I’m gone?”
“Work. And baseball. We have a shot at the championship this year.”
I resisted the urge to say something snarky about the Super Bowl or the Final Four. Trip was fair game for teasing, but his son wasn’t. Franklin Davis Whitman IV was fourteen and a nice kid. I occasionally called him Quad, to his own delight and his mother’s annoyance, but everyone else called him Davis. He had all of Trip’s good qualities and only a few of his bad ones, although Wren deserved most of the credit for that.
“Congratulations,” I said. “And good luck.”
“Thanks. Although we still have to beat Warner Robbins. They’re good, as usual. But this might be our year. I mean, our pitching is something else.” He talked baseball for a couple minutes, and I actually understood most of it. “Anyway,” he finished, “you don’t really care.”
“I’m excited for Davis,” I said, “and the team. Especially their coach.”
“Coaches,” Trip corrected.
“Still, the others take their cues from you.”
Trip was still competitive, but he’d changed since he’d started coaching. He taught the boys that hard work was its own reward, and that fair play and sportsmanship were more important than winning. He was teaching life lessons as much as baseball, and the results spoke for themselves.
“Seriously,” I repeated, “congratulations. Win or lose, you should be proud.”
“Thanks, I am. We are,” he stressed. “And on that note… we might have a game next weekend.”
“Will you be able to make it to camp?”
“Yeah, but a couple of days late. I already told Wren, but I was hoping you’d look out for her till I get there.”
“She doesn’t need me to look out for her,” I said.
“Oh, I know. But you know how it is. I don’t want her to think I’m ignoring her.”
“You’re being a good father. Sometimes that’s part of being a good husband.”
“Yeah, absolutely. But still… I’ll feel better if you take care of her, if you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” I chuckled. Emily and Susie were still waiting, so I glanced at my watch as a way to wind things down.
“Yeah, me too.” He rounded the desk and grabbed his coat on the way out. “I told Davis we’d do a guys’ night, pizza and a movie.”
“What’re you watching?”
“The Rookie.”
I shot him a sideways grin. “Isn’t that the one about the forty-year-old pitcher who gets a shot at the big league?”
“He was thirty-five, but yeah.”
“Wishful thinking?” I teased.
“Maybe. But it’s still a good movie.”
“It is,” I agreed. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out. I told the girls I’d take ’em to Tomo for sushi.”
✧ ✧ ✧
I raised my head and looked around the restaurant for our server. Susie and I had finished eating, but Emily was still hungry. The woman saw me and came over.
“Can I get you another lemonade?” she asked Emily.
“Oh, um… yes, please. I’d also like a spicy tuna roll. And… um…”
The server wasn’t our regular one, and she gave Emily a look of surprise. My pint-sized daughter had already polished off an order of edamame, a salad, and a platter of sushi and sashimi. The server glanced at me for approval. Emily’s eyes narrowed dangerously, although she was too polite to actually say anything. Still, she was thinking it.
“Sweetie,” I told her, “you keep ordering till you’re happy.”
Emily’s relief was almost palpable. She hated her metabolism, and I couldn’t really blame her. She ate twice as much as the rest of us and was still small for her age.
“Well, okay,” the server said with a good-natured laugh. “What else besides the spicy tuna?”
“Two pieces of salmon nigiri, please. Oh, and maybe some eel.”
“You got it. Can I get you all anything else?”
I glanced at Susie. “Maybe some tempura ice cream?”
“Yes, please!”
“Make it two,” I told the server. “One for us to share and one for Emily by herself.”
“Yum!” Emily agreed.
“I wish I could eat like that,” the server said.
Emily might have been small for her age, but she had the maturity of someone much older. She recognized a peace offering when she heard one, and she didn’t tell the woman what a pain it was.
“I’ll put in your order and get you that drink.”
Emily smiled her thanks, and the woman left.
“Sorry, Em,” Susie said. “I know you hate it.”
“Thanks, Boo.”
The server returned with her lemonade and went to check on the sushi. The restaurant was busy, even for a Friday night, but she must’ve put a rush on the order. She delivered it a few minutes later.
“Do you all want your ice cream now?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” Susie said, although Emily shook her head around a mouthful of tuna roll.
“Bring hers when she finishes her sushi,” I said. “Please and thank you.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back with yours.”
Susie and I were full from dinner, but we managed to eat about half our dessert while Emily methodically polished off her sushi.
“Here,” Susie said to her, “you can have the rest.” She pushed the bowl toward her. Most of the ice cream had melted, but Emily didn’t care.
“Are you sure?”
“Go ahead,” I told her. “Enjoy.”
She did, and then she ate her own bowl when the server brought it. She eventually sat back, full for a change.
“Better?” I asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
I paid the bill and we left, and my cell phone vibrated in my pocket as we were climbing into the SUV. I pulled it out, glanced at the caller ID, and flipped it open.
“Hello, Sunshine.”
“Hi,” Christy said. “We just made it to the hotel. Where are you?”
“Just leaving Tomo. Have you eaten yet?”
“No,” she said, a little grumpily. “Registration took forever.”
“Do you wanna get something to eat and then call us back?”
“Yes, but no. I forgot to tell you about Madison’s birthday party. It’s tomorrow, from two to four.”
“Got it,” I said neutrally.
“Emily couldn’t decide what she wanted to buy her,” Christy continued, “so you need to take her shopping tomorrow. Please. I already bought queso and chips. Emily knows how to make the dip—”
“Hold on a sec,” I interrupted. “I need to drive. Do you want to talk to her?”
“Perfect.”
I handed the phone to Emily and then backed out of the parking space.
“Hello?” she said. “Oh, hi. Uh-huh… Oh. No, it’s okay. Yeah, we told him. No, we went shopping this afternoon. A bunch of places. I wanted to get her the new Harry Potter book, but it doesn’t come out till tomorrow.” She paused and listened. “Yeah. A bunch of little things at Bath & Body Works.” Another pause, and she brightened.
“Oh, you did? Oh my gosh, that sounds yummy.” She glanced at me. “No, I can do it. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay. Thanks, Mom. I love you too. Yeah, okay. Hold on.” She turned and extended the phone to Susie. “She wants to talk to you.”
Susie chattered happily for ten minutes about shopping and dinner. Christy was probably getting hungrier by the minute, but she never stopped her.
Emily eventually turned in her seat. “I forgot to tell her something,” she fibbed to Susie. “Can I talk to her?”
“What? Oh, okay. Hey, Mom? Em wants to talk to you. Okay, I love you too. Bye!” She handed the phone to Emily, who raised it to her ear.
“Hi, sorry about that,” she said. “Yeah. No, she doesn’t understand.”
“Understand what?” Susie squawked from the back.
Emily ignored her and continued, “It’s okay. I do.” She listened and then glanced at me. “Okay, I’ll tell him. I love you too. Bye.” She closed the phone and handed it to me. I deposited it in the center console. “She said she’ll call you later, after they’ve had a chance to eat.”
I nodded.
“She also said she’s sorry she didn’t tell you about the party.”
“It’s my fault,” I said. “I was teasing her this morning about being late.”
“It’s kinda my fault too,” Emily admitted. “Mom asked me last week, but I didn’t know what I wanted to get her. Madison, I mean.”
“I think she’ll like the lotions and body wash.”
“Mom also bought the stuff to make the dip I like.”
“That’s what she said.”
Susie interrupted mulishly, “What don’t I understand?”
“What? Oh, nothing,” Emily said. “I was talking about Madison. Do you wanna help make the dip when we get home?’
“Can I?”
“Sure. Then we can wrap the presents. Will you draw a card for her?”
“Seriously? You really mean it?”
“Of course,” Emily said. “You’re way better than I am.”
She was my guardian princess, protective and kind. I gave her a nod of approval, and her smile melted my heart.
✧ ✧ ✧
Christy called the home phone a couple of hours later. They’d eaten dinner and returned to the hotel for the night. Wren was in the shower, and Christy was relaxing before bed.
“So,” I teased, “the girls are in one room and you’re in the other?”
“Yes, Mr. Nosy Parker.”
“Do you think they know their moms are planning to sleep together?”
“No, and we won’t tell them. Besides, I think Laurie might know already.”
“Oh?”
“Mmm. I was her age when I started fooling around.”
“Hold on,” I said. “You don’t think she—? I mean—”
“With Missy? No, of course not. She’s way too young.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Missy was too young. We shared a birthday, and she’d only just turned eleven.
“But Laurie and Jessica…?” Christy said.
“Hold on… Jessica?” I blinked in disbelief. “The one who spent the night back in May? That Jessica? Her parents are diehard Bushies, super-conservative!”
“So were mine.”
“They were actually pretty liberal.”
“My father wasn’t.”
“He’s mellowed in his old age,” I conceded, “but you know what I mean. Your mother knew what you were up to.”
“She did. Only, she wanted me to have a life, so… she looked the other way. Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to get pregnant.”
“No.”
“Speaking of which—”
Some part of me envied her ability to mold the conversation like the clay she used for her models. I would’ve thought it was unconscious if I hadn’t known her for twenty-odd years. Then again, maybe it was. She had a vision of what she wanted, whether it was a sculpture or more children, and she kept scraping away and applying pressure until reality bent to her will.
“—have you thought about what we talked about?” she finished.
“Do you really wanna talk about this now?” I said, a touch irritably. “I mean, Wren’ll be out of the shower in a minute, won’t she?”
“She knows already. She thinks we should do it.”
My anger flared, volcanic and sudden. “Oh, she does, does she? And damn the consequences?”
“Paul, I want this,” Christy replied calmly, “more than anything.”
“And I want a happy wife!”
“This will make me happy.”
“You aren’t happy now?” I shot back.
“Of course I am. You know that. But I’d be happier with more children, especially now that I’m sober. It’s been two years, Paul.”
“No, and that’s final.” I regretted the words as soon as I’d said them. I normally wasn’t the overbearing type, and my normally submissive wife could be the exact opposite, especially when she wanted something.
“My doctor thinks—”
“I don’t care what she thinks.” Silence greeted my outburst, which made me feel even worse.
“Okay,” Christy said at last.
“Okay, what?” I snarled. “Okay, we won’t have any more kids? Or okay, you’ll stop asking?” I didn’t need to add “for now.” She knew.
“Paul, I can’t explain it. I wish I could, but I can’t. I just know that I want more children.”
“Well, I don’t! I’m happy with the ones we have.”
“But… I want a son.”
Part of me did too—an old-fashioned, sexist, irrational part. My daughters already carried my genes. Who cared about a name?
“I don’t want to argue,” Christy said into the silence.
Then why’d you bring it up?
“But we need to decide. Soon. I talked to my doctor. She knows about my depression, too. I’ll take meds. I’ll go to counseling. I’ll do whatever you want. Only… please, I need this. Besides, you know how I am.”
“You mean, you’ll keep asking until you get what you want?”
To her credit, she actually managed to sound apologetic. “Yes.”
I huffed in disgust. Since when was she the rational one?
“We’ll talk about it,” I grumbled. “But not now.”
“Okay.” She let my temper cool from spewing lava to a smoking caldera. Then she calmly changed the subject. “Did Emily make the dip?”
“Yes.”
“I knew she would. I’d’ve waited till tomorrow. I think it tastes better fresh, but…”
“She doesn’t like waiting till the last minute.”
“No,” Christy agreed. “She’s too much like you, Mr. Planner.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, no! I’m glad she is, even if she drives me crazy sometimes. She reminds me why I love you.”
I wanted to stay angry at her, but I just couldn’t.
“Because you drive me crazy,” she said in a low voice. “Maybe we can—”
“God,” Wren said in the background, “that was exactly what I needed.”
“To be continued,” Christy whispered into the phone. In a louder voice, “The network wouldn’t connect or something, so they had to do everyone’s registration the old-fashioned way.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, which did wonders for my mood.
“That’s why it took so long,” she continued as if I hadn’t said anything.
“You’re a terrible liar,” I told her. “Wren will know exactly what we were talking about.”
“I don’t think so,” Christy said, which was innocuous enough.
“Anyway, it’s probably good that you had to change the subject.”
“Oh, I suppose,” she said wistfully.
I rolled my eyes, Wren-style.
“I heard that,” Christy laughed.
“You know me too well.”
“Mmm, I do.”
“Still your favorite words?” I said.
“Yes. Even after all these years.”
“Oh, stop flirting,” Wren said in the background. Then she raised her voice to speak directly to me, “Get your own woman. This one’s mine! For an entire week!”
“Oh, brother,” I said, another Wren-ism. They’d been lovers since before I’d met them, so I couldn’t really begrudge her. “Do you want to talk to the girls?” I asked Christy.
“Yes, please. And would you give Laurie a call? She said she wanted to talk to you.”
“Sure. I can call her on my cell phone while you’re talking to Em and Suse.”
“Perfect. She’s next door, in 828. Here’s the number for the hotel…”
✧ ✧ ✧
I stepped out of my office and surveyed the living room from above. It was empty, so I called toward the girls’ rooms. Emily yelled back.
“It’s your mom,” I said. “On the phone. She wants to talk to you.”
Emily stuck her head out of her room. I waved the cordless handset.
“Oh, that phone.” She disappeared and picked up her own phone a moment later.
“Hi, Mom. I made the dip. And I might’ve eaten some already.”
“I figured you would,” Christy said with a laugh, “so I bought extra. It’s pretty good, isn’t it? And you probably didn’t get enough at dinner.”
Emily sighed. “No.”
“I know, sweetie,” Christy said, “me too.”
“I’ll let you two talk,” I interjected. “Call us tomorrow after you finish for the day.”
“Okay,” Christy said. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Bye.”
I returned to my office and the notepad where I’d written the hotel’s number. I called Laurie on my cell phone.
She answered uncertainly, “Hello?”
“Hey, Flower.”
“Dad!”
We talked for fifteen minutes, and she told me about the pool and diving facilities. She sounded excited, without a trace of the anxiety from earlier.
“I can’t wait to hear about camp itself,” I said. “You can tell me tomorrow when you get back to the hotel.”
“I will. Do you need to talk to mom? I can go get her. She’s only next door.”
“No, but thanks. I talked to her earlier.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I love you, sweetheart. And I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad. I love you too.”
“Get some rest. And don’t stay up all night talking to Missy.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
We said goodbye and hung up. I picked up the home phone, but Christy had already finished talking to the younger girls. I went to check on them anyway. Emily was old enough to go to sleep when she was ready, but Susie needed prompting sometimes.
Sure enough, she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, drawing and listening to a CD. Spike and Buck lay sprawled on the floor beside her, quiet for a change. I listened to the song for a moment but didn’t recognize it.
“Who is this?” I wondered aloud. “Destiny’s Child?”
Susie shook her head without looking up from her drawing. “Beyoncé.”
“Is it new?”
“Yeah. Mom bought it for me. A couple of days ago.”
“Ah, okay.”
“She’s awesome, isn’t she? Beyoncé, I mean. Well… Mom too, I suppose.”
“They’re both awesome,” I agreed, “but it’s time for you to start getting ready for bed.”
“Unh! But, Dad—!”
“Ah-ah, no buts. Put on your nightshirt and brush your teeth.”
“Oh, all right,” she sulked.
“Chop-chop,” I added. “Then you can listen to the rest of the CD. But after that, you have to go to sleep. Fair enough?”
“I suppose.”
She set her sketchbook on the nightstand and left the colored markers scattered on the bed. Then she rolled toward the footboard, climbed over it, and disappeared into the bathroom. She shared it with Laurie, an arrangement that was better for everyone.
Laurie and Susie couldn’t understand Emily’s devotion to order, and Emily couldn’t keep her annoyance to herself. She had her own private bathroom instead. It was much smaller than the others’, but she didn’t care. It was clean, neat, and hers alone.
I chuckled to myself at how different they were. Case in point, Susie was the artist. She wasn’t a prodigy like Christy, but she had a natural eye for people and emotions. She’d been drawing Buttercup from the Powerpuff Girls, her favorite. She hadn’t mastered depth or realistic shading, but she’d captured Buttercup’s determination.
All of a sudden Buck leapt to his feet, and his tag jangled as he looked around. He wasn’t the brightest dog in the world, but he had a sixth sense about Susie. He scrambled over Spike in a rush toward the bathroom. Spike jumped up and ran after him, of course. Goofy dogs.
Don’t wanna miss the toothbrushing fun,I thought sardonically.
I stuck my head into the bathroom, just in case Buck had heard something I hadn’t, but Susie was fine. More than fine, in fact. She was quietly humming to herself as she brushed. Flecks of foam spattered the faucet, the mirror, and everything else within arm’s reach. I suppressed a shudder and empathized with Emily. Still, I needed to reward good behavior, no matter how messy it was.
“Thank you, sweetie,” I said, and Susie smiled through a ring of foam. “I’ll come check on you in a bit. I love you.”
“Wuv oo too.”
I crossed the hall to check on Emily. She was reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and Molly lay curled on the end of her bed. The dog cracked an eyelid but decided I was probably okay.
“Hey, Dad…?” Emily said. “Can we buy the new one tomorrow? The Order of the Phoenix, I mean.”
“If we have time. If not, on Sunday, for sure.”
“Awesome! And… um… thanks for today. Shopping, I mean. But also tonight, at dinner.”
“My pleasure, sweetie. Lights out soon?”
She nodded, so I headed downstairs to the kitchen.
For some reason, I felt the urge to pour myself a stiff drink, even though I’d stopped drinking when Christy had gone into treatment. Still, sometimes I wanted to buy a bottle for myself and keep it locked in a cupboard in my office. Wanted to but didn’t, I reminded myself, since it wouldn’t have been fair to Christy.
I grabbed the next best thing, a Snapple from the fridge, and settled on the couch in the living room. I turned on the TV and scrolled through the guide before I turned it off again. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop thinking about the call earlier. I replayed it in my head. Part of me was annoyed that I’d lost my temper, but part of me felt justified.
I didn’t ever want to go through postpartum depression again. My life had been bad enough, but Christy’s had been worse, a living hell. And now she wanted more children? Sometimes I still didn’t understand her. Worse, she had a way of getting what she wanted. This time I was determined to stand my ground.
Do you really think that’ll work? the little head wondered, serious instead of sarcastic for a change.
No, but it doesn’t matter. You’re shooting blanks, my friend.
When has that ever stopped her? Besides, you know what she means.
Mmm. And she doesn’t need you.
Nope, not this time.
✧ ✧ ✧
To be continued…
✧ ✧ ✧
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to Big Ed Magusson.
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Comments
Thank you. The epubs are good, but would be preferable if they were more book length.
Spot on....thanks Nick
Yeah you're obviously right. I just wanted to let you now that time isn't always super important. I speak for myself here. I enjoy your stories the same if read them 24 hours later. Although I loved the constant parts poster every monday, but not at all costs. So thank you Nick.
Nick Scipio
Thanks. But you're paying actual money for these books, and I respect that. <em>My</em> part of the agreement is that I provide the chapters you paid for, on time and in the right format. I try to treat you the way <em>you</em> want to be treated. I don't remember where I heard it... but I recently listened to an audiobook that said the Golden Rule ("Do unto others...") is selfish, because you're treating someone else the way <em>you</em> want to be treated. In their society, "Do unto others..." was the Silver Rule. The Golden Rule was "Do unto others the way they themselves would do." I thought that was pretty profound. (Ah! Now I remember... Pretty sure it was in <em>Heaven's River</em> by Dennis E. Taylor. <em>Fantastic</em> series of books. I highly recommend them. The audiobooks are even better... the narrator is perfect.)
Hey Nick, don't be so hard on yourself, since I'm always hours ahead of you in Europe it's technically everytime a day later ;-) . So take your time and be the TERB we love all those years.
