Escalation Ch. 04

"No."

"No?"

"I mean, not right now. Put on some clothing. We need to go to town. You've got to call your family. We've got to make plans. This cabin is no place to have a kid. We can't have you up here over the winter. I . . . I've got to get a job. Get insurance. Jesus, Sheri! You're pregnant!"

"First things first. I'll take the test. Then we'll call. You know, I bet there's a hell of a mess to clean up. I'm not even sure we can go back. The police might still be looking for you. At some point I probably should call Randy and let him know I'm alive—"

"Randy?"

"The guy I was living with."

"You're other husband." I could feel my blood pressure rising.

"No. I tried to tell you, I never married him. I changed my name to his, because I was trying to hide. I was still married. Even if my husband didn't want to be." She gave me a wicked glare.

"Moratorium on our lives between the Christmas party where you acted a slut, until today," I said.

"I never—"

"No. We're not going to talk about it. If we do, I swear I'm gonna put you over my knee and give you the worst spanking yet. Don't test me on this, Sheri. I'll do it."

"Will you kiss my boo-boo afterward?"

"I'm not joking, Sheri. This is important to me. We don't talk about it, we don't throw it in each other's faces. We don't bring it up in arguments. This is non-negotiable."

She put her arms around me, hugging me. "How about from the night of that stupid party, until after you pulled me out of the hole?"

How did she not understand non-negotiable?

"Please, Marty. There's a lot about the last couple of months I want to remember. Let's not throw that away. Please?"

"Alright. We don't talk about it, but we don't forget either."

She nodded. "Forgiven, but not forgotten. We can't ever let things get headed that way again."

She looked odd, walking around the store, wearing my smallest T-shirt with a belt around the waist. At least she still had her shoes. I hadn't destroyed those that first day. I assured her we could afford whatever we needed. I don't know how you can run up a six hundred dollar bill at Wal-Mart, but we managed.

We bought new phones, parked the RV where we had five bars of signal and started calling. I held her as she made the calls. I knew it was an emotional time. She called her mother first, told her she was fine, and that we were working out our issues. There was a lot of crying and apologies, and she explained that we'd been away, where there was no cell service. We needed the time alone.

It was an interesting way of putting it. She spoke to both her parents for at least an hour. We had decided not to tell anyone she was pregnant yet. Not until the doctor confirmed it. She wanted to wait three months, to make sure there were no issues. I didn't care.

The call to her sister had even more apologies, and I was wondering how many tears Sheri could have bottled up inside her. She offered to let me speak to her, but I wasn't ready for that. Too many memories of the bad days.

We took a break, and ate fried chicken from KFC. It felt decadent. We got a bucket to go and took it back to the RV. Then she asked me if it was okay to call her boyfriend in Idaho.

That was a tough one. I could feel my blood pressure rising. She sat in my lap. "I don't want him looking for me. I'm gonna tell him I left, and that I'm sorry. That's all."

She was honest. It wasn't much more than that. She said she was sorry, and that she had been married, and regretted not telling him. She was back with her husband. She'd been too much of a coward to tell him. I imagine it was rough, and I knew that if I had called Debbie, it would be equally painful.

We played obstetrician roulette. Who do you call, when you don't know anybody, don't even have a phone book or the internet? There was a big medical building in town, and we just walked in and asked who we could see. We had an appointment for two days later.

When we went home that night, I threw her chains in the hole out back and spent a good hour or more refilling the hole. Let me tell you, the dirt goes in a hell of a lot easier than it comes out. We enjoyed cold fried chicken that night. She did drink one glass of champagne. I drank the rest and was feeling little pain.

We were cuddling in bed, and she giggled.

"What?"

"I'm such an idiot. We had talked about having kids, and I kept putting it off. If we had started before the Troubles, I wouldn't have been drinking, and none of this would have happened." The Troubles was how she referred to our dark times.

"I'll share the blame. I didn't press the issue. I liked having you all to myself, and wanted to save more money so we'd be financially secure."

She leaned in and kissed me. "Water under the bridge. I'm happy. Is that ridiculous?"

I chuckled and gave her a hug. "Not at all. I'm happy too."

I closed my eyes and relaxed.

"After being so terrified, not knowing what was going to happen, you can't imagine what it was like. Waking up, unchained, on the couch, I could hear you snoring. I have a confession. I was going to leave. That hole scared me too badly. I had never thought you'd really do it, but digging that hole all alone, naked, I was scared to death. I was going to find your keys, and make a run for it. Then I saw them. My rings. In the middle of the table. You had left to get my rings . . ."

Six hundred dollars to pay off a 90 day loan. I couldn't believe they wanted that much. Then the shit about my name not being on the ticket. I think the look in my eye was the kicker. I was tired after driving half the night and waiting for them to open. I hadn't slept, and I was still furious. Once I had the rings back, I could finally calm down.

. . . price. Then I checked the refrigerator. You'd bought my favorites. That hole was just so much bullshit. Punishment, meant to scare me. I knew you couldn't do it. That's when I knew we were going to make it. I was afraid your eggs were going to be too salty 'cause I kept crying in them. I was going to tell you it was the bacon if you asked. You acted like the rings had never left my finger. I pleaded with you to stay inside, and you did. You took me to bed, and I knew the worst was over. You kissed me. You kissed me and made love to me, you didn't just fuck me. I couldn't believe . . .

Kissed her? I don't remember that. Nah, that's revisionist memory. No way I would have kissed her. She kissed me. A lot as I recall. I kept thinking I was going to have to spank her when it was over. Little hussy just kept going and going. Never even gave me a chance to rest.

. . . rid of that damn NuvaRing. I knew it was still taking a chance. But I wanted your child. It was long overdue. Should have started the third year like we had agreed. Now it was more than six years. I could only hope . . .

NuvaRing? Baby? I sighed. I guess there would always be a little trickery, little secrets. I'd give her a pass on that one. The woman wanted to carry my child. We had agreed, after all. We were just getting off to a late start. Still, that deserved at least a little spanking. Just warm up that amazing butt. Pink it up a bit. Get her juices flowing. She was always so damn hot afterward.

I felt her hand on my cock, stroking my new hardness. She was still mumbling her story, half asleep, as she crawled on top of me, settling down onto my cock with the sweetest little sigh. I had to grin. For five years, I don't think she was the aggressor in bed more than a dozen times. Now if she saw me hard, her first instinct was to take care of it.

She sighed, as I started slow-stroking her, rubbing her butt, kissing the top of her head.

. . . let him choose. Any name he wants. Well, not any name. Any name for a boy, I'm sure he won't screw that up. As for a baby girl, any name but Amy or Debbie. No way he's gonna name our baby after those man stealers. Maybe it'll be twins. They run in the family. We could each name one. That would . . .

She wiggled, settling down further on my cock, and I hugged her. Pulled the covers up over her shoulders so she wouldn't get cold. Didn't need her getting cold. Not now.

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Epilogue.

We didn't have twins. We had a beautiful baby boy, and we named him Dale. I always had liked her father, and when I passed him his first grandchild, and told him his name, I think we started the healing in the family. My parents had flown in from sunny Florida, and were about as loving as I could remember. We weren't close like Sheri's family, and once they'd retired to Tampa, I rarely saw them. I had a feeling that would be changing, now that I'd given them a grandson.

We had a good crowd. Everyone had flown out for the birth, and our little apartment in town was full, as was the RV. We had stayed in our cabin until the seventh month, and then moved closer to the hospital. I wasn't taking any chances being up on a mountain in the middle of nowhere, when she was ready.

Her sister Amy came out for the last two weeks of Sheri's pregnancy. It was touch and go the first few hours, but we worked things out. Seven months of frequent calls back home had done a lot to erase the old, bitter feelings. Our agreement not to talk about the dark days took a hit. I was told in no uncertain terms that little sis was off-limits forevermore. Past behavior was forgiven, but we were both staying faithful, always.

After three days with Amy, it was like old times, and even a little joking and flirting didn't cause flare ups. It was good. I think the fact that she spent at least half-an-hour on the phone every night talking to her fiancé helped. Things had changed. She still wore the necklace I'd given her. I still remembered how it looked between her naked breasts. But that was the past.

We had talked about going back, but had decided to stick it out for at least another year. Two thousand dollars spent with lawyers brought us to that decision. The statute of limitations, both civil and criminal would end after three. We were already past two. It didn't make sense to take any chances. I did go back to using my name.

I had thought we'd move into town once we knew she was pregnant. Sheri didn't want that. She did insist on an addition, adding a bathroom to the cabin, with hot water, a tub and a shower. Took me weeks of work to get it done, but she's happy, and I have to confess, I love that stupid cabin. She's made me promise we'll never get rid of it, and if we ever fight, we'll stay there until we work things out.

I don't know how that will work a year from now if we live halfway across the country. I guess we'd better not fight.

Soon as I was done with her bathroom, she gently encouraged me to get a job. I tried to tell her I still had more than a hundred and fifty grand in cash, and we owned our home and vehicles outright. She reminded me that any birth complications could wipe that out in a heart-beat. So I found another sales job, with a forty minute commute each way, but it got us insurance, and allowed us to start building the savings again. I bought a Jeep with better gas mileage, that still handled our rough roads pretty well. She went to town with me twice a week, and we took the RV those days. We liked having the RV in town with her. It was convenient for the long lunches. I was used to getting lots of sex, and it turned out that when she was pregnant, she was insatiable, although God knows I tried.

Now that we're staying on the mountain for another year, I'm going to gravel the road, and have a few more things to do around the cabin. More solar cells, for one, it seems like we never have enough electricity anymore. Much bigger propane tank, so I get a little hot water now and then. She wants to put in a garden. She wants a fireplace. Shutters on the windows, and screens. The damn list seems endless.

But it keeps the weekends busy, and I have my wife and new son there with me. I'm happy. The first few weeks were frustrating, with two weeks of blowjobs only, followed my two more weeks where we could include her butt during playtime, but still no pussy. Thank God that's over with. The doctor suggested waiting six weeks, but we barely made it to four. I was willing to hold out, for her health, but one night she mounted me in my sleep. She was fine afterward, and repeated her sneak attack the next night.

Will we make it? I like to think so. There's something about going to hell and back that makes you appreciate what you have, and work hard to never go down that road again. The change in our sexual lives helps a lot. At least for me. And we communicate now. Endlessly it seems. I don't think I'll ever break her of her habit of talking me to sleep.

But talking is hell of a lot better than not talking. Having sex is WAY better than not having sex, and having a family changes everything. Yeah, I think we're going to make it.

The End.

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