Homelands Pt. 08 Ch. 02

For fuck's sake.

Why did Kevin have to go and marry a prom queen? A week after her prom? Couldn't he at least have had the good grace to put a bag over her head before bringing her over?

"Fortunately for everyone involved," Chris said, leaning his head out of the kitchen, "he gets his charm from his mother."

"And his bad manners from his father," Karen added, joining him in the kitchen. She ran a hand up his back, as if to tell him to let go of the tension in his body. Or perhaps to say that he shouldn't worry too much about her, which made him feel a bit foolish. He wasn't giving her enough credit. So what if Marie was young and pretty? That was no threat to her. "We're still working on the inside voice."

"Probably doesn't help that I let him to sing when I practice the guitar," Chris confessed.

Kevin gave a polite smile.

For her part, Marie was too distracted admiring the refrigerator door to notice. Ty's drawings and the family photos seemed to truly fascinate her.

When she bent over to see the ones below the ice dispenser, the hem of her skimpy little sundress hiked up, revealing a shocking amount of bronzed flesh. Chris just might have caught a glimpse of her panties if he hadn't looked away in time.

Well, almost in time. The frown on his wife's lips did not bode well for him at all.

So much for the idea that Karen didn't feel threatened by her.

Truthfully, Marie did nothing for him. Sure, she was pretty, as his son had noted with such subtlety. But only in a very conventional sort of way. She belonged on MTV, or in advertisements for lingerie. That kind of woman had never excited Chris. So far as he was concerned, she needed to gain a few pounds. That dress would have looked a lot more flattering on her if she had something beneath it besides skin and bone. The orangeish tan was a big turn-off too. Her skin was darker than her hair. His lovely wife had skin like marble, and there were no words for how much that appealed to him. It didn't help that she couldn't have been a day over twenty-two either. True, she didn't really look like she'd just finished high school or would have trouble getting into R-rated movies. But he liked women with a little maturity and experience. Women whose heads were a little less full of idealistic fantasies and a little more grounded in reality.

But that wouldn't spare him Karen's wrath.

Marie was the exact type of woman his wife resented most. Young, thin, pretty, and very much aware of those blessings.

"Here you are," Chris said as he handed the two glasses to their guests.

His hands shook as he poured two more glasses, one for himself and one for Karen. It wasn't like he'd been checking her out. He was just curious about what had caught her attention. Not that his wife would believe him.

Did she have to bend over like that? And would it have killed her to wear a longer dress? Maybe one that reached her mid-fucking-thigh?

"Kevin tells me you write children's books?" Marie said to Karen.

"I'm a novelist, yes," his wife replied a bit icily.

Why, yes, that was her eyeball you just poked. Well done.

"So your home all day?" the blonde continued, oblivious.

"We both work from home, yes," Chris added, putting a little more emphasis on the word "work" than was perhaps strictly necessary.

"Well, let's be honest, dear," Karen said as she pressed her glass against her lips. "It's been a while since you've paid any bills."

He forced an awkward laugh.

That was more or less true. But she conveniently forgot to mention that he'd quit his band because she was jealous of the lead singer, who wasn't all that young or attractive. If not for her and the kids, he'd have joined a new one by now too. Not to mention the fact that he still brought in some money by offering guitar lessons, repairing instruments, and performing the occasional solo gig at bars down in Savannah. Admittedly, that didn't add up to much. Not like releasing albums and touring the nation, playing real venues. And especially not compared to her income, which had grown considerable since her previous book won the Newberry. Still, it was a pretty cheap shot.

Then again, a successful marriage required knowing when to choose one's battles. And it wasn't hard to figure out that her jab had very little to do with the family's finances.

"You're a musician, right?" Marie asked.

Nevermind that Karen had already revealed that he wasn't a particularly successful one. The damn girl hadn't quite yet reached the age where it became possible for women to distinguish between rock stars and underemployed guys in bands. All that mattered was that he could play a guitar. And he had a soul patch.

"That's so cool," she added far too much enthusiasm.

That was so not helping.

"Hmmph," Karen said to her wine.

"And what do you do?" Chris asked, eager to prove to his wife that he wasn't buying what the young woman was selling.

"I'm an administrative assistant," Marie replied a bit sheepishly.

"Oh, you mean a secretary?" Karen asked.

Kevin froze, apparently just noticing the two trains on a collision course. Chris wanted to tell him to get things under control. Pull a level and change tracks. But he said not a word. Two sets of eyes drifted slowly from Karen to Marie, waiting for the inevitable.

For just a moment, Marie looked utterly indignant. But her smile returned almost immediately. Was it possible that she actually thought Karen had made a honest mistake?

"People used to call it that, yes," Marie explained unnecessarily. "That was before my time, but you probably remember it."

Chris nearly dropped his glass.

"So did the two of you meet at work," he asked Kevin, finally realizing how stupid it would be to just stand there and watch the crash without making any attempt to avoid it.

The glance he got from Karen burned hotter than he could bear. But the punishment she'd unleash on him if he let Marie continue pushing her buttons would be even worse.

"We did," Kevin replied slowly. "She, uh, used to work for me."

"Got transferred to his boss after we started dating," Marie said. "Think the jerk was hoping that all of my services would-"

"Well," Kevin said, clearing his throat. "Best not to give HR any reason to worry about a law suit, right? Besides, people talk about what happens behind closed doors."

Karen eyed the two of them silently, face impassive.

Crisis averted, but that line of conversation wasn't heading anywhere they wanted to be either. Was the girl trying to make herself sound like a stereotype?

"What kind of hobbies do you guys have?" he asked his neighbors.

"Oh, we love the outdoors," Marie said, trailing her nails down her husband's back. Then, just as Chris had been about to say that they did as well, she added, "You know, rock-climbing, skydiving, cliff-jumping, white water rafting. You know, pretty much anything that lets us feel the warm sun on our backs."

Kevin laughed, apparently aware of how ridiculous she sounded. Had no one explained to her that one needn't risk life and limb to catch some rays? That there were outdoor activities some might consider relaxing?

"We've been called adrenaline junkies," he said. "And not unjustly."

Marie frowned.

"Sounds...exciting," Karen said.

Chris put an arm around her shoulder. She allowed him to do so, but if he'd hoped the gesture would soothe her even a little, he was sorely mistaken. The tension building up inside her almost made it hard to breathe.

"What about you guys?" Marie asked.

"Afraid we're pretty boring," Chris said. "Having kids will do that to you."

Kevin nodded. "I keep trying to tell her that." Turning to his wife, who very easily could have passed for his daughter, he added, "We might go a while without jumping out of any planes after you get pregnant."

"I know," she said, sounding remarkably like Ty did when Chris told him that the square peg didn't fit in the round hole. "We'll find some other way to stay active." She turned to Karen. "How do you do it?"

His breath caught in his throat. That sounded almost like an olive branch. But it could just easily have been the precursor to something truly offensive. He wasn't sure which.

"I mean, I only hope I look as good as you do when I get to be your age," Marie clarified.

In his mind's eye, Chris saw a mushroom cloud.

"I bathe in the blood of virgins," Karen replied.

Chris and Kevin laughed awkwardly, but Marie didn't seem to get it.

Kids these days. Don't know nothing about history. A well-placed reference to Elizabeth Bathory was completely lost on them, just like references to pop culture from the 1980's.

Things got a little less tense after that, but only because they all retreated behind walls of artificial politeness. Their small talk grew less personal, more vapid, and thoroughly non-threatening. They talked about the weather and property taxes, school districts and real estate agents, directions to stores and the quality of local restaurants.

Dinner might not have been too bad, had they adopted that strategy earlier. But a malignant cloud lingered from earlier, and when Niall woke up crying, it almost came as a relief. To his credit, Kevin took the opportunity to make a graceful exit. Chris and Karen thanked Marie again for the mac and cheese, which had proven to be quite a hit with Ty, and exchanged empty promises to get together again soon.

"Nice to see you again, Karen," their neighbor had said as he set his glass down by the kitchen sink. His hand had brushed her shoulder intimately, if briefly. Like they were old friends rather than new neighbors who weren't exactly hitting it off.

That had Chris balling his hands into fists.

Until he noticed how the touch had changed Karen's demeanor.

Chris had almost expected her to jerk away, or at least give a start. But she hadn't. She'd smiled at Kevin, and the air in room grew a little clearer. If such were anything but impossible, Chris might even have said that he'd sensed a change in her aura. In fact, not only did the hostility fade, but something damn close to desire had replaced it.

Of course, it wasn't possible to read auras. It was only a surge of jealousy that made him think that his wife felt something amorous for their neighbor. The green-eyed monster had apparently decided to move on to someone new.

For a time.

His wife's bitter mood soon returned. And once it did, Chris was too busy being afraid of how she might lash out at him to bother with feeling jealous over the brief moment she might or might not have shared with their neighbor.

After the kids went to sleep, he and Karen polished off a second bottle of wine, washed the dishes, and cleaned up Ty's toys. All without speaking more than a dozen words to one another. Then they silently retreated to the bedroom.

He felt like he was walking on a freshly frozen pond, trying not to make a sound so that he could be sure to hear any cracking of the ice.

"Go ahead," he finally said, after stripping out of shirt.

"With what?" she asked.

He gave her a flat look as he began unbuttoning his shorts.

Karen gave him an expressionless look of her own before turning and heading into the bathroom, leaving him alone with his thoughts. She brushed her teeth fastidiously enough to please any dentist and washed her face just as thoroughly before returning.

"I didn't find her particularly attractive," Chris said, as though he were making casual conversation. That he'd settled on that particular topic was no more than pure coincidence, of course. "Sure, a certain type of guy, with a certain level of insecurity, might think of her as a fine trophy. But, eh. Not for me."

"Lucky for me they didn't have any in your size."

With a sigh, Chris came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His lips brushed her shoulder lightly. "That's not what I meant. I was just trying to-"

"Accuse me of being horribly insecure and insanely jealous?"

His arms fell away.

"Okay, that was unfair," she said, pulling his arms back. "I am feeling insecure. And jealous. But the way you've been tiptoeing around, like you're afraid I'm going to bite your head off, is what's really got my blood boiling. I'm not proud of the fact that she made me feel old and unattractive, you know. Some people have these things called feelings, and they're not always in control of them. Doesn't make me a monster."

"I'm sorry," he said.

She was right. He suddenly wished he could undo the last half hour.

She didn't say anything for a few moments. "I know she's not your type, okay?" she eventually said, sounding as though she was fighting back tears. "You probably thought her perfect little ass was her worst feature, but I'd kill to have an ass that flat. Even though I'm going to believe you when you interrupt me to say that you think my ass is perfect. These things don't have to make sense."

What was he supposed to say to that? And would it do anything but amuse her if he did go ahead and confirm that he thought her ass was perfect?

He opted for the safe strategy of replying with a soft kiss.

"It doesn't matter," Karen said, sounding a little less choked-up. "No more than the fact that she's flat-chested, or that you don't care for blondes. It's what she represents. The fact that she left here knowing how she made me feel. That she never has to wonder if her husband still finds her attractive."

"Baby, if a younger version of you stepped out of some wormhole tomorrow and threw herself at me, I wouldn't be interested."

"I'd never throw myself at you," she replied with a tone that bordered on playful. "You forgetting how I brushed you off when we first met?"

He smiled, not that she could see it. "Point is, I don't want a young woman. Yes, I did when I was young. But I'm not the same man anymore. And even back then, it was the woman I knew you'd one day be, as much as who you were then, that I fell for."

"Oh, please," she said, elbowing him gently.

By which, of course, she meant "Go on."

"I fell in love with a young woman. An aspiring writer who had this air of hope and optimism about her. A sense of potential. And angst. It was intoxicating. But now I share my bed with a beautiful woman. A best-selling author who no longer has to tell herself that someday she'll make it. A woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. Knows what I want, and how to provide it. A loving mother and devoted wife. It's been an incredible journey, but I can't say I'd want to put things in reverse."

She leaned back against him and tilted her head to the other side, inviting him to kiss her neck. Which he did. Several times.

"Suppose you've turned out okay yourself," she mumbled.

"Even if I'm not so good at paying bills?" he asked. As he did, he gave his wife a little pinch, just above one of her beautiful hips.

She squealed and slapped his hand, but not before she started giggling. "You take care of me in other ways," she added, giving him an instant hard-on.

"You're not damaged goods, if that's what you think," he said, trying not to sound like he thought it would take an idiot to believe such a thing. "Being a mom and being sexy are not mutually exclusive."

"If I hear the world `MILF' come out your mouth, you're going to lose all the brownie points you just racked up," Karen said.

Chris laughed. "Duly noted." He kissed her neck again. "All I'm trying to say is that you haven't lost anything. I find you as physically attractive as I ever did, to say nothing of the woman who lives inside this incredible body. You're more mature, more impressive, and more wonderful than the woman I first fell in love with."

"The whole `aged like a fine wine' thing sounds nice, but that's easy for you to say. You're a guy. Men get hotter as they get older, at least for a while. And fatherhood doesn't take a toll on a man's body."

"Nor motherhood a woman's," Chris replied. "That's exactly what I'm trying to say."

Karen sighed. "That's sweet, dear. I appreciate it. Really, I do. But who're we kidding?"

"You're beautiful, Karen. I don't know what else to say." He placed his hands over her abdomen. Would it help to say that he didn't care about the stretch marks? Or would acknowledging their existence only undermine his point? "Especially when you're pregnant."

"Right," she said. "What's hotter than a big, fat belly?"

"I'm serious," he said. The next few words fell out of his mouth before he could really consider the wisdom of speaking them. "Let's have another child."

The room went silent.

"I mean, if you want to, I do too," he added. "Doesn't mean I'll be disappointed if we don't. No pressure here. I just...I can't tell you how good it feels to see you cradle a little life that we made against your chest. To hear you sing sing our child lullabies. Before you know it, Ty and Niall are going to think it's gross to let you touch them. I don't want that to be the end of this phase."

"Don't say that," she said. And the melancholy that fell over the room made him wish he hadn't. "Niall isn't even out of diapers yet."

True enough. But that didn't really change anything. The day would still come, all too soon, when they'd think their parents lame and do everything they could to avoid being seen showing them any affection.

"If we have another son, someday they can form a band together," he said.

Karen laughed at that.

"Or maybe we'll have a little girl," he continued, his words buzzing with excitement. "I've always wondered what it would be like to have a daughter."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"We'd have to buy all new sets of clothes," he said, as if that was the most important consideration. "It would change things for us, financially. But your sales just keep growing and growing. We can adjust."

"You're serious," was all his wife had to say.

"I am."

She turned around. The most beautiful brown eyes the world ever did see stared up at him. Lips more luscious than they had any right to be parted slowly as she said, "Okay."

It took him a moment to process her response. To stop marveling at her beauty long enough to realize she'd agreed.

"Yeah?" he asked, smiling uncontrollably. "Just like that? Don't you think we should take some time to think about it?"

"What's there to think about it?"

He laughed.

Before he could get another word out, she slid her hands inside the waistband of his boxers. Once she did, he lost all interest in talking. With one smooth motion, she dropped them to the floor. Her soft hand enveloped him an instant later.

Then their lips met and stars collided.

After they ended their kiss, his wife slowly lowered herself down onto her haunches and took him in her mouth. She didn't do that too often anymore, but she certainly hadn't gone rusty. It took her all of three minutes to make his head explode. And those were three of the best minutes of his life.

The intense pleasure he experienced in that all-too-brief period was beyond description. Beyond mortal comprehension. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd survived it. He'd never thought Karen untalented, but he couldn't recall ever getting a blowjob that good. If there was a drug that could reproduce the euphoria his wife brought him, every last man, woman, and child would develop an addiction.

Then he returned the favor. And no less successfully, if the way her body reacted was any indication. For a while, she told him how good it felt. But it didn't take long for her speech to turn entirely profane. And it wasn't long after that that she went entirely speechless. In the end, she was unable to even moan or whimper. All she did was buck her hips, squeeze her thighs against his head, and grip the covers so tight that Chris almost felt bad for the fabric. When her orgasm arrived, it was heralded by a scream loud enough to wake the deaf woman living at the other end of town.