Canela y Clavo Ch. 01-04

Welcome back :). Here is a new, different story. I will release the next installment once the last has posted. Thank you abundantly to LaRascasse and TRCIII for looking this over. Enjoy. -L

1

It is to someone's birdsong that Tessa's eyes open this morning. Whether it is the robin who lives outside or the sound of her fluttering heart, it has left Tessa wide awake. She lies with her cheek rested softly on the pillow, her toes stretching en pointe to the end of her bed. She becomes more conscious until she can feel every blade of blond hair tickling at the back of her neck. Until she is vibrating with the promise of summer. With the promise of her lover.

Angie came the summer before Tessa went to college. From behind a big moving truck, she emerged with her attractive wife and big, pregnant belly; they would be moving into the empty house in Tessa's quaint Detroit suburb. Later the same day, Angie appeared on Tessa's doorstep with a gigantic, homemade apple pie like something out of a movie. And the next moment, she was seated on Tessa's couch, enthusing Tessa and her parents about how she would need a 'sitter' once the babies were born. Since Tessa would be commuting to school from home, she agreed immediately. Once the twins were born, her work began.

Rolling over onto her back, Tessa's hair fans out into a yellow halo. Angie always tells her how pretty it is, that she should grow it out until it's as long as hers. Tessa's dimple gashes a deep hole in her soft cheek. Thinking about Angie always makes her smile.

Angie Lee Darling. Angie's pretty, green eyes and her beach-blond hair. Her sugar-sweet voice and southern-belle accent. The way she would hold one of her babies with one arm and scratch at Tessa's scalp with the other. How when the twins went to sleep, Angie would hold Tessa in her arms like a prize squash and kiss her soft and sweet.

'I wish my wife would kiss me,' she'd say. 'I ought to have someone to kiss, Tessa Mae.'

And Tessa would kiss her until the seconds turned to minutes and the weeks turned to months of Angie sleeping with the nanny. As soon as Angie's wife leaves for work in the morning, Tessa is in Angie's arms, pressed up against her and the twins in one happy family. (Her wife fits into family but doesn't fit into happy.) And Angie is always there at her door with her lips puckered wide and her arms open soft. She belongs to Tessa. Angie is Tessa's because there is no one that knows Angie like Tessa does. Not even her wife.

It is wrong, and immoral, and cliché, but Tessa cannot help herself around Angie. It has always been this way. Angie's indulgence is contagious. With her, Tessa finds herself wanting more, more than she anticipated. Feeling more than she ever imagined. In love.

So, Tessa is biding her time, waiting patiently for nine a.m. when she has work. Though...'work' is a strong word for helping her twenty-five-year-old, married neighbor with her twins.

Especially since they are having an affair.

At eight fifty-five, Tessa stands to stretch and run her fingers through her chin-length hair. She is ready for a relaxing summer after a strenuous sophomore year of school. Smiling at her Shih-Tzu, Leia, who still lying on her bed, Tessa turns to the mirror to assess her appearance. She is wearing jean shorts and an unbuttoned flannel tied just above her pierced belly button. Angie said she liked it the last time she wore it.

Grasping the banister between her fingers, Tessa begins the descent down the stairs to the kitchen. There is no need for her to eat, since Angie will be cooking breakfast by the time she arrives, but Tessa pours a cup of kibble into Leia's bowl before letting her outside to relieve herself. The clock on Tessa's watch has just stuck nine by the time that she reaches the garage, but Angie will not mind. Especially since Tessa makes a point to leave after Angie's wife has left for work at eight-thirty. (It seems like a conflict of interest to arrive while Reyna is there.)

The garage lowering behind her, Tessa walks the two houses down to where Angie is waiting for her. In their neighborhood, the distance is sizable, but not too far. Tessa loves Angie's house. It is tall and cream-colored and seated atop a small hill; it has big, green shutters for eyelashes and a white, wraparound porch for a smile. In the backyard is a crystal-clear pool that gets its most use this time of year. Tessa is reminded for the millionth time how steep the house's hill is as she ascends the driveway to the front porch. But the sight at the door makes her forget the pain in her calves.

"Hey, Tessa Mae!" Angie greets, her arms open wide like always. Tessa runs into her lover's arms, letting Angie hold her close. Angie always smells so good after her shower.

"Well, don't you look nice? Breakfast's almost ready, hon," Angie smiles before Tessa kisses her deep. Tessa slips her hands around Angie's waist, holding her tightly and walking her back into the foyer. Meanwhile, Angie giggles and kisses back. She is always a good sport.

"Is your wife gone?" Tessa asks, finally pulling away.

"Isn't it a little late to be asking that?" Angie giggles, brushing a lock of freshly-lightened hair behind her ear.

Tessa joins her with a bright laugh. "I guess you're right."

"Now, close that damn door so I can finish up in the kitchen. You're gonna make me burn up my babies' breakfast."

Tessa follows Angie into the house, sitting down on her favorite kitchen stool. The twins are in the living room watching TV like they always do before breakfast.

"Do I count as one of your babies?" Tessa croons, biting her lip seductively. She puts on her prettiest smile, sure to show off her dimple.

"'Course you do," Angie grins wide, kissing Tessa over the counter. Tessa loves when she does this, loves how she can see Angie's pendulums swinging free beneath her blouse. "Now, leave me alone! Go in there and see if the twins need to be watered."

Rolling her eyes, Tessa slides out of her stool and turns toward the living room.

"I caught that," Angie chides, her finger wagging in the air.

"Sorry," Tessa apologizes, before rolling her eyes again as she leaves the room.

"I'm gonna get you!" Angie's voice cackles from the kitchen. Tessa joins in Angie's laughter as she walks to the living room to check on the twins. They have tunnel vision for the television like every other morning. From what Tessa knows, their other mother rations their screen-time, forcing them to savor the mornings before breakfast.

Tessa bends down to her knees until she is eye-level with the children seated on Angie's big, yellow couch. Sure, her job may come with a few perks, but she really does have a love for children--especially Angie's.

"Hi, cuties," Tessa coos at the eighteen-month-olds. Today, they are dressed in matching striped onesies and jean shorts.

The twins smile at her for approximately one second before turning back to the TV screen.

"Are you thirsty?" Tessa asks.

"Shhhhh, Tessa," one chides at her. "Watching TV!" (The words are muffled through baby lips and sound more like 'Atchy V!' than 'Watching TV,' but Tessa is fluent in Angie's twins' language.)

"I know you are," Tessa says with a smile. "But are you thirsty?"

"No."

"Nuh-uh."

"Okay," Tessa chuckles, standing to her full five-foot-six. She is sure Angie will be thrilled at this news. When Tessa walks back into the kitchen, Angie has just finished mixing the pancake batter. She smiles up at Tessa from the bowl.

"What'd they say?" Angie asks.

"What they always say: 'Shhhhh.'" Tessa smiles.

"Good lord. What am I gonna do with those two? Will you bring them some milk anyway?"

"On it," Tessa says from the cabinet, the twins' sippies in her hand.

Angie smiles. "I love you, Tess," she says, sidling over to plant a wet kiss on the corner of Tessa's mouth.

Tessa smiles wide, her dimple on display. She kisses Angie one more time before licking her lips to savor her taste.

"I love you too, Ang," she whispers. And she means it.

When Angie finishes preparing breakfast, Tessa already has the twins buckled into their high chairs, babbling away in their twin language. At their age, only about a quarter of what they say can be recognized as English. (Another quarter is likely their other mother's Spanish.) Angie appears with their plates and a smile, their pancakes and fruit already cut into baby-sized pieces.

Next, are her and Tessa's plates, piled high with pancakes, sausage, and eggs. Tessa laughs at the immensity of the plates, teasing Angie about how she always cooks enough for an army. Sometimes, Tessa thinks that Angie is trying to get her to put on weight. And she probably is.

Shimmying over to the other side of the table, Angie sits in the seat right across from Tessa's. (Angie insists that even when Reyna isn't home, no one else sits at the head of the table.)

"They are so cute," Angie coos, snapping a few pictures of her children eating for her Instagram. "Look at my babies, Tess."

"I see them."

"Oh, shut up," Angie grins brightly. "So, what's new, babe?"

Tessa shrugs, taking a bite of her pancakes.

"How's that Harmony?" Angie asks, leaning over the table. Her green eyes glint with mischief. "That girl is so damn purdy, I could just eat her up."

At the mention of her best friend, Tessa can't help but smile. Harmony is one of the few people (the three people, including the twins) that know about Angie's affair. Tessa tells her everything, loves her like the sister she has never had...it is seldom that she lets Harmony and Angie meet.

"Please don't," Tessa laughs. "She's, like, my only friend."

"Now, you and I both know that ain't true. But she can come over whenever you want, babydoll. Don't even have to ask."

"Oh, I'm sure," Tessa teases, smiling at Angie over the table. The women fall into a comfortable silence as they enjoy their breakfasts. They take turns at helping the twins enjoy theirs.

"Tess, honey?" Angie inflects. Tessa's eyes shoot right up to hers. "I've been so worried trying to feed these chickens that I forgot to get myself any water. Would you mind filling me up a glass?"

Tessa bounces quickly to her feet. "Don't move, Angie. I'll get it."

Angie smiles. She really does love Tessa's enthusiasm. The girl would probably jump off a bridge for her, if she asked nicely.

"Thank you ever so much, babydoll," Angie croons when Tessa returns with her water. "I think it's time we gave you a raise, ain't it?"

"You're going to have to run that past Reyna," the nanny grins as she sits.

"Oh, that woman doesn't give two shits about what happens to her money," Angie says. "You'd think she was made of it, the way she treats me. You know she gave me my own credit card?"

Tessa shakes her head no.

"Now, I'm the first person to tell you that giving me a credit card ain't the best idea," Angie laughs wildly, her breasts jiggling away. "The debit, I can understand, cause at least that one runs out."

Tessa laughs, her hand over her lips. She has left her fork embedded in the eggs, resting gently on the table. Her food is barely touched. Angie frowns.

"Tess, you really need to start eating more," the woman sighs, resting her hand on Tessa's over the table. "I get worried about you."

"You're always worried about me."

"Sure am," Angie asserts. "Now, you eat at least three more bites, do you hear me? I'm gonna have to treat you like I treat my babies. Isn't that right, chickens?" Angie smiles over at the quiet twins. The presence of syrup has kept them occupied for most of breakfast, trying desperately and failing at keeping a clean tray.

"Mommy syrup?" one asks, noticing the change in Mommy's tone to her baby voice.

"You don't even have any more pancakes, babydoll! How about some protein?" Angie chuckles, tearing some sausage to hand to the baby instead.

"Mommy--"

"Let me guess, you want syrup on that, too?" Angie smiles, pouring a slight amount on the baby's plate, and then the other's too. (Their requests usually come in pairs.)

"Tessa Mae, what am I going to do with these children?" Angie asks, sighing dramatically. "And then there's you who doesn't even eat more than a bird."

Tessa shakes her head, continuing to eat her breakfast. Once Angie has placed the syrup bottle back on the table, she turns to her children.

"Y'all, the faster you finish your breakfast, the faster we can get to the playground. Some of your friends might be there."

"Ryan's there?"

"No, honey. Jen and Ryan moved, remember? They went bye-bye." Angie frowns, using the opportunity to wipe off the baby's hands and face. (It is easier when they are distracted.) The baby meets Angie's frown. "I know, baby. I miss them too."

When the baby asks to be let out, Angie sighs and begins the task of wiping the other child down before the whining begins. Luckily, with the introduction of forks into the twins' diets, there is less of a mess than there was six months prior.

Two hours and two tired, happy toddlers later, the twins can finally be put down for their nap. And once they are, Tessa joins Angie in her bed for their own 'nap'.

Angie is watching Tessa closely, her hand playing with the knot in Tessa's flannel shirt. She pursues her long nail down Tessa's exposed stomach to the button on her daisy dukes. She enjoys the feeling of Tessa's shudder under her nail, her deep breaths and deep brown eyes. And now that Angie thinks about it, her Tessa Mae looks like a carbon copy of Daisy Duke herself, save for the brown hair and cowboy boots. But Tessa's low, no-show socks will do just fine.

"You know I love that shirt," Angie says real low. "And I know you wore it just to tease me."

Tessa blushes bright pink, emphasizing her freckles. She giggles into Angie's ear, kissing her cheek over and over.

"Sometimes I wish I just had a big 'ole cock to fuck you with. That'd put you in your place."

"You know there's a thing called a strap-on, right?" Tessa grins, nibbling at Angie's earlobe.

"Noooo, but that's just not the same, Tess. It's something special about feeling you right up on me," she sighs, her hands displacing Tessa's shorts to grope at her ass. "Mmm, your mouth on me," she whispers.

Tessa shudders again.

"What time do you think the kids'll wake up?" Angie whispers in Tessa's ear. By now, her fingers have abandoned Tessa's shirt for the bottom of her own.

"Twenty minutes?" Tessa muses, her brown eyes glued to the smooth skin of Angie's chest.

"That's enough time," Angie moans, already unbuttoning her jeans. "'Specially if you keep that little shirt on."

2

Reyna announces her presence with the jingle of her keys from the doorway. Angie is cooking like she always is when Reyna gets home, and by the smell, it is meatloaf. (Wonderful.) Reyna mutters a greeting as she walks into the kitchen, places a kiss on her wife's cheek as if they are in a sitcom.

"The nanny came today?" she asks. Reyna still does not entirely understand why they need one, but Angie has always gotten what she wanted, has always been Reyna's weakness. Having help with the twins makes Angie happy.

Angie nods her head with a tight, dimpled smile. It is enough for Reyna. She will change and then head to the living room to play with the children while Angie cooks dinner. It is what she does every day, make up for lost time with her twins. As she enters the room, bright smiles alight both babies' faces. It is only matched by their mother's. They are her joy and pride, her proudest accomplishment. Though they are young, Reyna knows that she will do anything to protect them. They will never like her as much as they like Angie, but she tries to spend as much time with them as she can.

Dinner is normal. Quiet, save for idle chatter about mundane things. Reyna watches her wife speak, taking small bites of the meatloaf Angie has cooked. Somehow, even after years of Angie being away from Arkansas, Reyna has not been able to take the Arkansas out of her wife. But of course, Angie is not just an Arkansan, she is Miss Arkansas 2013. The least likely person alive to become Reyna's lesbian wife. This is something they used to laugh about. Reyna smiles, regaining focus after Angie's country twang lulls her into a stupor.

The twins grab messy fistfuls of food, pressing sauce and meat to their faces with open palms until Reyna and Angie remind them to use their forks. This is met with a pouted compliance. (Though they can use them with no problem, forks are still a touchy subject.) The only person more talkative than Angie at the end of the day is these two people, their mouths full of whatever Mommy has cooked for dinner. Reyna smiles at the sight, dabbing a chubby cheek with a wet wipe as Angie takes their plates to the kitchen to wash. While Angie washes the twins, she will pace idly in the master bedroom until it is time for their story. Leaving the children in their playpen for their mother to take them to the bath, Reyna walks slowly to her bedroom. She yawns, exhausted from the long day of work and subsequent dinner.

Sitting in the comfortable chair beside the dresser, Reyna rests her eyes for the rest of bath time. When she rises, she notices something awry. Rubbing her eyes, Reyna frowns. There is something under the bed, or so she thinks. It is the same pink as one of the babies' stuffed animals (an elephant). Reyna smiles. It seems like only yesterday when the twins struggled to sit, and now they are leaving their toys in her bedroom.

Reyna bends down to her knees to pull the fabric out from under the bed, to hold it up in the light to see it better. She frowns. It is not one of the twins' toys after all. It is lacy, baby pink panties better suited in Shirley Temple's wardrobe than on the floor of Reyna's bedroom. Reyna scowls, standing to her feet to bring the panties to the attention of her wife.

"Angie," she chides to the hallway. "Whose panties are these? I found them under the bed."

"Oh!" Angie exclaims from far off. Then, she rushes into the room at record speed. She eyes the panties, and her eyes widen profusely. "Those little-pink-frilly things? They're mine, hon. Who else's would they be?"

Angie's hands spring into the air to nab the little-pink-frilly things away from Reyna, and Reyna raises them out of Angie's reach. Sometimes, Angie's five-foot-four has its advantages (or in this case, Reyna's advantage).

"I don't know," Reyna speaks calmly. "But I've never seen you wear panties like this. I thought pink was too...'cutesy.'"

"Well, I'm turning over a new leaf, honey. Will you give me those?"

Reyna lifts the thin fabric up to her nose. "They don't smell like yours," she frowns.

Angie crosses her arms over her chest, turning her nose up in the air until her blushing cheeks are out of sight.

"If you must know, Reyna, I douched. I needed to freshen up down there," Angie explains, again grasping for the panties. "Honey, will you please hand those over so I can put them in the wash?"

Reluctantly, Reyna allows her wife to remove the panties from her hands. She turns slowly to follow Angie out of the room, then turns toward the twins' open door to squish their fat legs and make them laugh. The babies are easy. Much easier than Reyna's marriage.

In the room, Reyna's happy twins smile sleepily up at her from the changing table where Angie has carelessly left them. (Maybe it is a good idea to have a nanny after all.) They are cuddled into one another, all four of their eyes gazing up into Reyna's sleepily.