Mouse Bk. 05 Ch. 04

Melanie looked at him with wide eyes, hoping they showed disappointment, or were at least expressionless. She didn't want him to realize that she didn't want him, or any man, or woman, to touch her tonight.

She was disappointed, though, for another reason. She wanted to test herself. Starting now, or rather starting whenever she and Dan were together again, she wasn't going to think about anything, or anyone else. Certainly not Michael. No one. She would be with Dan, entirely and completely, whenever they were together.

Melanie knew how to take control. That was her thing.

She had three things that she needed to do. That was her list, now, just three things.

The first was to be with Dan, in bed and in her fantasies, and only with Dan. No more Michael, no Mouse, absolutely no Doug, not even someone more conventional and "harmless," like Kate. She would think about and let herself be excited by no one but Dan, her husband, lover and lifelong companion.

She steeled herself, to open herself up to get his help on the second item on the list.

"Dear, we have to talk," she started.

"What is it?"

The words were emotionless. Melanie waited, intently watching his own exhausted, vacant expression change, clouding with concern, triggered as he took in her tone and her own serious, stern look.

"I have a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"One that needs treatment."

His look of concern quickly became grave. He climbed onto the bed to take her hand firmly in both of his. He stared at her with uncertain fear in his eyes, so she had to look away.

"It's not physical," she told him quickly. "I'm not ill. Not physically ill. Mostly."

His look of confused concern was almost worse, now. It hurt her. She heard an uneasy doubt in his voice.

"What is it?"

"I just need therapy. I think I have a problem. With alcohol. I think I've become an alcoholic. Again."

"Oh, Mel, come on." He looked away, is if the motion helped to keep him from rolling his disbelieving eyes instead. "It doesn't seem that way to me. And you weren't an actual alcoholic before. We've always been drinking. We just drink more now because the kids are older. We can socialize more."

"It's worse now. Much worse."

"Mel..."

"Stop it, Dan. Stop fighting me. I have a problem. I. Have. A. Problem."

Dan looked at her in silence, accepting her rebuke. He never resisted for long.

"And there's more. I think I should see a therapist."

"About what?"

Melanie froze. She knew he'd ask, even though she'd hoped with all of her heart that she could escape that inevitable question. She shouldn't have brought it up, yet. She still knew that she couldn't answer it honestly.

"I don't know. I just feel like I do. Maybe not right away. I'll tackle the alcohol first. Then see where things go from there."

She felt awful. She couldn't bring herself to tell him. Even in being open and honest with him about it all, in going to him for help and support, she was lying to him at the same time. The fact was, though, that she didn't think she could bring herself to say the words to a therapist, either, or to anyone, ever.

She'd fucked her brother. She'd wanted, achingly, to fuck her own son.

She couldn't even think the words to herself, right now.

"Let me get the drinking out of the picture, first."

"Is it us? Is it me?"

Melanie's face softened at the sound of his pain. She looked at him, then fell into his arms. She was going to cry again, she knew. She struggled to compose herself, to avoid making it seem even worse. If he saw her cry, he would really panic.

"It's okay, Dan. I love you. I love you more than ever before. I just need help. I just need to get help, and I need you to help me, too."

"I'm here, Baby. I'm always here."

"I know."

That was it, the end of the conversation. Now she could just stay in his arms, being held, being sheltered, while she thought some more.

Last and every bit as important was the third item on the list. She had to be a proper wife and a proper mother and a proper big sister. She had to take care of Dan and Doug, and Rick and Jenn, and Michael and Mouse, too. She had to take care of everyone else.

She had to be less selfish, and start taking her role in the family to heart.

Most of all she had to be a proper big sister for Michael and Mouse. She had to make sure she did whatever she could to make them happy. And, as strange and paradoxical as it might sound, that meant helping them to stay together.

They had a magic she envied. They were a brother and sister, painfully, confusingly, unconventionally in love. They had something special, something she understood better now. She had to help them to keep it.

Melanie leaned on Dan's shoulder as she thought about what she could do to help.

<8 Escape

Michael listened restlessly for the musical, female voice on the speaker to call his row number for boarding. The flight was going to be crowded. Just finding a seat on such short notice had been hard. He had almost decided to try to drive.

"Now boarding, first class passengers, passengers that need assistance and passengers with small children."

He thought about a lot of things as he fidgeted. He tried not to think about his time with Mel, though it made him feel warm when he did. It wasn't the usual afterglow of sex, with Mel. It wasn't like Mouse. With Mouse, he just couldn't stop thinking about her. No matter what he did, she was in his thoughts. And it was always exciting, always, before, after and in between.

When he did start to think seriously about Mouse, his blood started to pump. He immediately felt the need to touch her, or kiss her, no matter how far away she was. If she was there, with him, no matter who else was around, the urge became that much stronger.

He fantasized ridiculously about pulling Mouse into a long, deeply passionate kiss in front of his parents, his sister, her husband, her kids, his friends, his co-workers, everyone. He wanted everyone to watch him kiss his amazing little sister.

"Now boarding, rows 21 to 29. Rows 21 to 29."

With Mel, it was different. His mind wandered easily away from the episode, or back, as he pleased. It wasn't so much exciting, as simply warm and loving. It just was. Mouse had been right. It was a pleasant experience and a pleasant memory, one that was somehow untarnished by guilt, and yet one he had no interest in repeating.

Even as a memory, as exciting as it was and should be, it was little more than equal competition for the first time he got a hit in little league, or the first time he kissed a girl with passion, or the one momentous adventure in his life, the time he rappelled down into the Grand Canyon.

A petite blonde walked by, towing a noisily reluctant and easily distracted toddler by the hand. The woman reminded him, in a way, of Kate.

He imagined Mouse in the woman's place, wondering how her fiery, impatient and impudent personality would deal with a recalcitrant child. He grinned stupidly as he wondered what kind of fiery, impatient and impudent child Mouse would bring into the world.

He bet that he could temper that. A child of their own would be fiery but patient, and impudent but caring. Their child would be the best of both of them.

Michael shook that unsettling thought away. Having a child with his own sister had to be way, way out of bounds. It wasn't a thought that should be indulged, no matter what else they did.

"Now boarding, rows 11 to 20. Rows 11 to 20."

Michael got up to shuffle hurriedly toward the gate, as if getting on board sooner would actually get him there sooner. He had no luggage whatsoever. By now he'd bought or brought, and then left, enough stuff at Mouse's place that he didn't need anything else. He had a razor and a toothbrush and a few sets of clothes, enough to get him through a few days, all waiting for him, with her.

If he needed anything, he'd just buy it there. He couldn't miss that much work anyway, not more than a few days.

Mouse had made him leave half of the stuff. She said it made it feel like he was closer, like he lived there. He was only too happy to help her indulge the fantasy.

The flight attendant at the gate was another cute, petite blonde. As he handed his boarding pass to the her, he saw her glance at the wedding band on his left hand. He always wore it at home, at Mouse's request. He willingly wore it whenever he went to Chicago, too. He couldn't wait to put it on, before he even left his house.

The attendant smiled pleasingly as she handed back his return ticket.

He and Mouse had to talk.

The thing was, Michael couldn't take the pain any more. He couldn't take all of the complications, the sneaking and the illicit nature of it all.

Mouse deserved a guy that was around all of the time. She deserved to have children, too. She deserved a family, and love all day, every day, and security and freedom and affection and more.

She deserved to be able to hold her lover's hand in front of her parents.

So Michael was going to Chicago. He and Mouse had to talk.

As much as Mouse deserved all of those things, he deserved some things, too. He couldn't take it anymore, the distance and the stress and the complications.

So he was telling Mouse that he was moving to Chicago to be with her.

* * *

— From the author —

There are two more books left in the Mouse series. Please look for them.

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