A Frickin' Fantastic Friday (The Zelda Dairies Book 3)

by Olivia Gaines

  “Not tonight, Zelda. I need to process some of these emotions in a non-physical way,” he asked.

  “Ahhh, sure,” she replied feeling a tad bit rejected. Standing, she began to undress for bed.

  “Scott, do you suffer from depression?” she asked.

  “No, I am just missing you already and you haven’t even left yet,” he said, lying back and holding one cookie in the air, examining it.

  “I tell you what. After such a frickin’ fantastic Friday, let’s simply live in the moments we have together. Besides, we can’t get married because you haven’t asked me to marry you. You asked my brother to marry me, but you didn’t ask me,” she said.

  “I will. The timing has to be right and it has to be big, grand, and over the top,” he said.

  “Or it could be simple.”

  He scoffed. “What fun would that be? I want you to look back on the day you said yes and pen all those little details into a letter for our daughter to read on her wedding day.”

  It was quite possibly the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. It nearly made her melancholy knowing her mother would not be there on her wedding day. More sadness overtook her at the thought of her Grandmother being at the wedding in her mother’s stead.

  “You continuously amaze me, Scott Berger,” she told him.

  “And you are simply spectacular,” he said, moving to the bathroom to brush his teeth and put in the new retainer. “Be back in a minute.”

  When he returned, Zelda was sleep.

  She was right, it had been a frickin’ fantastic Friday. I am so in love that I am scared, but I am going for it. He slid into the bed, his back to her and soon drifted into a peaceful slumber dreaming of cookies, warm peach pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and children.

  Lots and lots of children to fill the house.

  Chapter 12

  Zelda almost skipped the luncheon on Saturday, but opted instead to attend, get photos of the room setup, the guest speaker at the podium, and then slip out the side door. It was, after all, the reason her boss paid for her plane ticket to Cincinnati. The remainder of the afternoon she spent beside Scottie’s Pond on the colorful blanket with a book in her hand as she read passages she found amusing to her man. In between reading, swimming in the pond was quickly becoming a favorite thing to do.

  In the meantime, Chandler had become scarce around the house, allowing them time alone.

  “I am traveling over the next three weeks, Zelda. We have clients in Europe that I have to go visit. Hopefully, next year you will be able to travel some with me,” he said.

  “If I am not too pregnant to board a plane,” she said.

  Scott sat up on the blanket.

  “That is so funny. I dreamed last night about a house full of kids,” he told her. His large paw covered her belly, rubbing it in small circles.

  “Yeah, were any of them hairy?”

  He crinkled his brow and looked into the distance. “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “Wrong dream, Baby. Those weren’t your kids,” she said, laughing.

  “Funny, very funny,” he said, holding her close. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  “I have to so I can prep my Grandma for your arrival for Sunday dinner in three weeks when you get back from Europe,” she said.

  “You need three weeks to prep your Grandmother about me?” he asked.

  “Shit, I need three weeks for you to get in the right mindset to meet that woman,” she said. “Then I head to Vegas for the summer conference season. I am like in residence because there are so many back to back, so I basically live on the Strip for almost two months. You will have to come and meet me there,” she told him.

  “Okay,” he said, lying back on the blanket, ideas filling his head with possibilities.

  ‘Zelda,” he said her name softly.

  “Yeah, Baby,” she responded, lying the book on the blanket.

  “How long after we are married before you want to start our family?” he asked.

  “I am thinking maybe a year. I need a year to get this house in order and child friendly. I don’t want to try to redecorate and remodel with a pregnancy. I think it would be too much,” she said.

  “Good point,” he told her, tugging at a strand of her hair. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Scott.”

  “If you’re interested, I am ready to make up for last night,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

  Zelda jumped to her feet. “You are not dumping me from the blanket this time,” she said, laughing.

  “Let’s go home,” he said rising slowly.

  ****

  Home.

  He said let’s go home.

  She couldn’t wait to get to her current home to tell Michael about Scott’s house, the cookout, and her potential new friends. It was an awesome Friday night spent with women who weren’t judging her or her decision to love Scott. They understood because they loved him, too.

  “Ms. Fitzsimmons, you have been bumped up to first class,” the stewardess told her as she checked in at the gate.

  “Thank you,” Zelda said softly.

  “You may board anytime you are ready,” the stewardess added.

  Right now was as good a time as any. Boarding the plane and storing her carryon was easy as she took the seat near the window. She stared out of the small pane, longing to be back with her man. Leaving this morning was tough, but she promised Grandma Lula she would be there for Sunday dinner. In a month, she would fly out to Vegas for nearly sixty days of covering drunken debauchery and middle-aged men trying to recapture their youth.

  For a forty-year-old man, Scott didn’t make love like one. She took out her journal and made a new entry. Dear Dairy. I spent the week with Scott in his family home in Kentucky. Closing her eyes, the diary entry would have to wait as she relived their last night together.

  ****

  Several times his phone chirped as they discussed his upcoming travel to Europe, the countries he would visit as well as the places he would stay. Zelda spoke fondly of her trip to Paris and a summer in the Mediterranean. Soft laughter filled the room as they shared stories which coincided with each other’s until the last chirp he decided to answer.

  Zelda provided him some privacy to take the call as she made her way to the bathroom for a hot shower. Humming as she washed, again an unwanted sadness snuck up on her at the thought of leaving him alone in this big house with just Chandler as a companion. He’s a big boy. He has lived in this creepy house for years before you even came along, Zelda.

  Turning off the taps, drying her skin briskly, realizing she’d left her clothing in the bedroom, her damp feet made their way into the room. A plush brown towel draped and secured around her chest, she entered the bedroom to find an undressed Scott seated in the middle of the bed, his back against the headboard, the sheet lying low about his waist.

  Zelda eyed her big, hairy hunk, grinning at his position in the bed, “What do we have here?”

  “A very naughty boy who needs a lesson in manners,” he said. The outline of his erection imprinted through the high thread count sheet.

  “Does the naughty boy need a spanking?”

  “No, but you could shove something wet in his dirty mouth to shut him up,” he said. “Bring it here, Sweetie. Let me taste how sweet you are.”

  Zelda climbed onto the bed, standing over him, the end of the towel slapping him in the face as she moved back and forth, side to side. Scott, unamused, snatched the towel away, her nude form towering over him.

  “Come here,” he almost growled. He wanted to get her nice and ready so she could ride him hard like she had at the hotel when they first met. “I want to still feel you when you are in your bed in Texas tomorrow.”

  Slightly bending her knees, she lowered her hips to just about his chin as his tongue snaked out, flicking over her clitoris. The sensation nearly overwhelmed her, making her knees slightly buckle. Scott grabbed her thighs, yanking her forward, forcing her to almo
st sit on his face as his tongue made small circles, wetting her, making her moan and crave more.

  Pulling away, she yanked the sheet, straddling his hips, seating herself in his lap. The hair on his thighs reminded her of an intimacy shared between just the two of them as her legs connected with his warm skin. Reaching between their bodies, taking the thick, stiff erection in her hand, she aimed and slid forward, slamming her hips into his.

  “Good good, goody, goodness,” he mumbled. “Again.”

  She slammed into him again, over and over, holding on the headboard, working all of him inside of her, cumming as she went, moaning into his ear, and riding him hard. Lost in the sensation it was all about the feeling. A feeling of pleasure, of connection, of being joined with him in this way coursed through her body, tightening the muscles, followed by a wondrous release.

  “Shit, I just came,” she mumbled, holding tight to the headboard.

  “Don’t matter, I’m going to make you do it a few more times,” he told her, rolling her to her back, lifting one leg over his shoulder. Bracing his arms on either side of her, he pulled his hips back and plunged, slow, sweet, and deep until she twitched, drooled, and held on for dear life. Scott rocked his hips as if he were slowly drilling for oil in a glory hole as she wiggled underneath him trying to hold on, but she couldn’t.

  “I’m cumming again, Scott. Damn that is so good, Baby, so, so good,” she whimpered as he picked up his pace. Each stroke hit that sensitive spot, sending shivers down her spine as he lowered his face, kissing her, his tongue dueling with hers as he continued pumping his hips.

  “Let me hear you enjoying me, Scott. Don’t be quiet – talk to me. Talk dirty to me,” she said to him.

  It wasn’t his way or his style to speak that way to a woman. Tonight wasn’t the night to learn how to say things which may or may not work. Instead, he continued to kiss her, his tongue playing in her mouth. His right hand pinched her nipple between his two fingers as he clamped down, pumping so hard he moved her across the bed.

  “Zelda,” he cried into her ear as he found his release. He collapsed on top of her, his face buried in the side of her neck, his lips coming to the outer edge of her earlobe. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  “I am going to see you again in a few weeks,” she assured him, holding his body as she rolled his weight off of her small frame. Falling asleep in each other’s arms, she would pen this moment to a piece of paper as well. It was also the first time she truly felt safe in a man’s arms.

  What I am feeling is genuine.

  I genuinely love this man.

  ****

  Sunday Afternoon

  She arrived home a little before two to find her brother sitting at the kitchen table. He didn’t fool her at all with his cool, calm and composed demeanor. When she drove up, she’d spotted him in the living room window looking out. Michael pretended to be surprised to see her.

  “Oh! Hey Sis. How was your trip?” he asked casually.

  “Pretty good,” she said to him, heading to her room. “What time are we leaving for Grandma’s?”

  “As soon as you are ready, I guess,” he said looking at her.

  Zelda rolled her suitcase into the bedroom, returning with her purse and keys. “Let’s ride, Kemosabe,” she told him, heading out the backdoor to the garage. The white walls seemed boring in comparison to the brightly hued yellow ones in Scott’s garage. She liked the boring white, but a pop of color would be nice.

  Her brother’s car was much nicer than hers and oftentimes she’d considered getting herself a late model sedan. A new vehicle would also be nice, but she would be moving next year. Driving Scott’s Porsche made her want a new car today. Her hands grappled with the seatbelt, fumbling with it to get it to close. Finally, the familiar click was heard. Safely secured and riding in the passenger seat, Zelda knew her silence was also driving Mike crazy.

  “Dang it, Zelda, tell me!”

  “Tell you about what Scott’s crazy house of many colors?” she said, laughing.

  Michael kept his eyes on the road. “I won’t lie. I was worried. A whole week with a man...a very virile one at that. Do you feel like you are pregnant? I know by the time Hairy Harry was done with you, you might be having triplets,” he said laughing.

  “No, it will be a while before we start our family,” she said with a large grin.

  He hit the brakes hard, tossing her body hard against the seat belt. Michael’s eyebrows were furrowed, a scowl etched into his expression. The relationship was moving at a clip and he didn’t know exactly how to feel about it.

  “You talked about starting a family already? You moving kind of fast, aren’t you?”

  Zelda shook her head no as she began to explain the time line. The redecorating plans as well as his travel schedule. She spoke of her Summer residency back in Vegas, his three-week travel schedule and so much she had to get done in nine to twelve months.

  “It will probably take me a year just to get the house redone. Starting with the lime green kitchen,” she told him.

  Michael’s eyebrows shot up, as he asked, “Lime green?”

  “Oh that’s nothing. The orange dining room with the table decorated in orange fringe was an eyesore, but it was nothing in comparison to blue shag carpet and blue velvet walls in the foyer. The red living room with the life-sized Danny doll in the chair reading a book. Ooh! Ooh! The yellow garage! But hey, he did loan me his Porsche to drive all week,” she told her brother.

  Cars honked at them as Michael sat at the light, his jaw agape, simply staring at her. He knew there was a backstory to Scott. A man didn’t walk through like with oversized buck teeth without having a shit load of money to throw into people’s faces as ‘a screw you, I’m so rich, I don’t need to look handsome’. Eccentric people lived in crazy houses.

  “Mike, that is just the tip of the iceberg,” she said. “Do you remember the Scottie and Andy Show?”

  “Vaguely. That was the tv show with the bucked tooth kid with the...holy crap! Was Scottie...Scott?”

  “Yep. The entire studio of the town where the puppet show was filmed is in the house,” she said laughing.

  “You are pulling my leg, Zelda,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “No, pull over. Seriously, I have photos,” she told him.

  Michael maneuvered his car into a drugstore parking lot, putting the vehicle in park. Zelda, excited, pulled out her cellphone, opening the photo storage option. Her finger slid across the screen, showing off the lime green kitchen, the outside of the house, the pink chair, Scott bar-b-quing, and all the friends sitting around the dinner table. His eyes were frozen on the phone. He didn’t even blink.

  “Hold up. Was that house made out of popsicle sticks?”

  “Yes, the four houses are connected via walkways made of those sticks. It beats the gravel walkways which are filled with marbled eyeballs,” she said using her two fingers to expand upon the gravel.

  Michael drew his head back, like a turtle trying to hide in his shell.

  “That is a crazy ass house,” he told her.

  “No kidding. Scott’s section of the homestead is partly a space pod with rocket launchers,” she said flatly, smiling.

  “Zelda, you can’t be serious about marrying this man,” Michael said. “I like him and all but that house is built by a crazy person. Crazy is hereditary!”

  Michael noticed how his sister dropped her head.

  “I am going to marry that man because I love that man. I even told him so. Michael, I also told him first,” she said.

  His face contorted, he hit her lightly in the head with his baseball cap. “Who are you and where is my sister, you alien loving pod person!”

  “Mike, we are waiting a year because I need some counseling,” she said and paused. The look on his face said everything. “At some point, we have to talk about what happened that night and why it is all blank for me.”

  “What happened, Zelda, when you were with Scott? Did some
thing occur which triggered a memory?”

  She shrugged her shoulders, her words were soft, responding to Michael’s request. “The same thing that happens every time a man has liquor on his breath and he is standing anywhere near my bed. I freaked out, punched him in the nuts, and took off running with no underpants on,” she said.

  Michael still was not blinking.

  “Chandler stopped me, made me put on his robe, and I talked it through with him while Scott iced his nut sack,” she said, her lips tight. “He still wants me after all of that, even gave me some pointers on finding my courage to fight my demons. However, I can’t fight what I can’t see and don’t know.”

  The confession he’d been holding since he was 18 years old, he finally had the courage to tell his sister. He didn’t know if she was going to hate him or if would be the recipient of her next nut sack punch, but she deserved some peace. She also deserved some truths.

  “I had you hypnotized to repress the memories. You were not handling a lot of things well, Zelda,” he told her.

  “I am grown now and can handle a lot more than you think. I am not afraid to face the monsters,” she told him.

  The uneasiness that surrounded him each time she dated someone new was back. As much as he wanted to protect her from the world, he knew he couldn’t. The smell of alcohol on a man’s breath always triggered an episode.

  “So, you are going to marry him. How are you so certain that he is the one, because he survived your nut sack punch?” he asked.

  “No, because of this,” she said and showed him another photo in the phone.

  Michael’s eyes teared up as he wiped away the sudden rush of liquid streaming down his cheeks. He held onto the phone, clutching it tight as he stared at the image of his sister in fresh water. He pressed down on the image and it came to life.

  “You are swimming, Zelda,” he said in disbelief.

  “Yep, Scott taught me to swim in less than fifteen minutes in his pond, which is nearly as big as a lake! Then I began to remember why I didn’t like swimming in fresh water,” she paused. “I started to remember all sorts of things, Michael.”