Commitment

by Golland, K. M.

  “Come in,” I said politely, greeting everyone as they approached the door. “I hope you brought your bathing suits. It’s gonna be a hot one.”

  My mother-in-law patted my cheek and laughed. “Io? In un costume da bagno? Ma tu sei pazza.”

  I laughed too, albeit hesitantly. In a room with a banjo. Matt will say pasta? What the fuck does that even mean?

  When it appeared no one else was exiting cars and making their way up our driveway, I closed the door and headed back inside, almost laying a loaf in my pants when Tash shrieked at the top of her lungs.

  “ALEXIS! You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

  I rounded the corner with speed and found Tash standing with her back against the fridge, hands splayed on the stainless steel surface, Alexis holding the balloon not even a metre away. “Nope. What can I say? I’m amBITCHous. And anyway, every party should have at least one balloon.”

  “No, they shouldn’t.”

  “It’s a kid’s party!”

  “I don’t care!”

  Brayden grabbed at the balloon and it made a really loud high-pitched screeching noise. So did Tash, the colour draining from her face. Shit! Do I intervene? Do I save my cranky-arsed, menNOpausal wife?

  I didn’t know. It was an amber light situation — stay put, or proceed with caution.

  Taking a step back, Alexis passed both Brayden and the balloon to Bryce. “Okay okay. I’m sorry. It was just a joke. Are you okay? You don’t look too good.” She placed her hand on Tash’s shoulder but it was quickly swiped away, and, before I could blink, Tash had latched onto Alexis’s hair and was slowly yanking it toward the ground.

  “Don’t do that again,” Tash warned, her voice stern.

  Everyone in the room, including myself, gasped. Fuck me, she has gone crazy. My wife is certifiably insane. I didn’t know what to do. Approaching the deranged imposter was far from rational, yet the imposter was somehow my wife, and I had to stop her before she started tearing off limbs.

  About to risk my life and break them up, I paused when Alexis burst into laughter. “Ow! Fair enough. Damn it. How did you learn that move so quickly? You strike like a death adder.”

  “You are but a mouse and mere shadow to my self-defence brilliance,” Tash taunted.

  Alexis tried to wriggle free. “Oh shut up and let me go.”

  “Do you solemnly swear to never balloon-bother me again?”

  “EVER?”

  Tash yanked a little harder. Shit! She’s vicious. Funnily enough, I kinda liked it and wanted to do the same to her while my cock was impaling her pussy.

  “Yes! Yes! Okay. I promise to never bother you with a balloon ever again.”

  Tash let go, and Alexis whacked her on the arm before hugging her.

  I was so confused.

  “Never knew Tashy was into hair pulling. Go you!” a familiar voice sounded at the same time my shoulder was nudged.

  I turned in the direction of said voice and found Carly — Tash and Alexis’s close friend — and her fiancé, Derek — Bryce’s best mate — standing beside me. “Yeah.” I laughed, nodding half-heartedly “My wife is full of surprises.” I kissed Carly on the cheek and shook Derek’s hand. “How are you both? And thanks for coming.”

  “I haven’t come just yet,” Carly replied, winking. “But it’s only a matter of time.”

  Derek pulled her to him, her back pressing against his chest. “Babe, you’re at a kid’s party.”

  She giggled. “And?”

  I had to be standing in the middle of the fucking Twilight Zone. It was the only thing that made sense. Crazy hair-pulling wives, a smirking billionaire, Italian, and horny adults behaving like teens wasn’t normal. What ever happened to normal?

  Maybe this is the new normal?

  Or maybe I was the weird one.

  * * *

  “Hey!” I hollered to the kid who had wandered to the far corner of the pool. “What are you doing by yourself over there? No single dwellers.”

  The kid lifted his hand to his head, shielding the sun from his eyes as he looked up at me. “What? Me? I’m just looking for a ring, Mr Jones. William tossed it over here somewhere.” Liar! You’re looking to make your bladder gladder.

  “I can’t see a ring.”

  “Neither can I. That’s why I’m looking.”

  “Dude,” Derek said, handing me a beer. “Ease up on the piss patrol. You won’t stop it. I bet my left nut they’re all sharing it around as we speak.”

  “You don’t have a left nut,” Bryce added as he stopped next to us.

  I laughed, although I wasn’t really in a laughing mood. “Well, do me a favour and don’t tell Tash about the pissy waters. My head is already on the chopping block.”

  Bryce clapped my back. “What’d ya do? Tell her she’s too thin? Apparently that will do it.”

  “No. I don’t comment about how she looks at all. BIG mistake. That’s one you never win.”

  Bryce pointed his beer at me. “You’re funny.”

  “Why’s that funny?”

  “Hang on a minute. You NEVER comment on how she looks?”

  “No. It’s safer that way.”

  Derek threw his arm around my shoulder. “Deano. Deano. Deano. There’s no such thing as safer. No wonder you’re in the dog house.”

  “Of course there is. If you say nothing at all, nothing bad will happen.”

  Bryce smirked over the lip of his beer. “Wrong. When silent, a woman is her most deadliest.”

  “Deadliest? What do you mean?” I knocked back my beer, now feeling a little uneasy.

  “If you’re quiet, they’re quiet. And when they’re quiet, their mind is screaming.”

  My eyes widened. “What’s it screaming?”

  “All the wrong fucking things,” Derek added.

  My mind was a swirling shit storm. “Let me get this straight. So when she says something like ‘just forget it’, I shouldn’t? I should keep arguing with her?” I shook my head, not buying into it. “Naaa, that’s crazy.”

  “Crazy is fucking forgetting it. No man in their right mind would ‘forget it’. You never do what they tell you to do when you’re fighting.”

  What the fuck? Everyone has gone mad. Am I the only sane one at this party? Am I even at this party? Maybe I’m dreaming.

  “Bombs away!” a kid yelled, splashing water all over me.

  I wiped my face, wondering for a split second if it was contaminated with kid piss. Nope. Definitely not dreaming.

  “Hey!” Tash yelled. “No bombing. It’s not deep enough.”

  “Sorry, Mrs Jones.”

  “Jet, my name is Tash. That lady over there is Mrs Jones.” She pointed to my mother, who was twisting and removing dead rosebuds from the bush in our garden.

  Mum was none the wiser.

  “I’m curious, Deano,” Derek said, lowering his voice. “When was the last time you told Tash how hard she was making your dick?”

  I laughed. Was he kidding?

  He didn’t return my laugh. Shit! He’s not kidding.

  “I can’t remember. Maybe before we got married.”

  Bryce choked on his beer. “Mate!” He lowered his voice as well. “When was the last time you asked how wet she was?”

  “Uh … “ I scratched my head. “Probably the same.”

  Bryce scrubbed his chin. “Fuck. You need my help. Tash needs my help. No wonder she gives me a hard time at work.”

  “She gives you a hard time? How?”

  “She’s stubborn, sometimes worse than Lexi. Do you know how many times I said we weren’t having a tennis court in the Atrium, and how many times she said we were? And guess what? We have a fucking tennis court in the Atrium.”

  I couldn’t help but smile; she’d been so excited about the Australian Open event she’d put together for City Towers. “That’s just Tash: stubborn as all fuck. It has nothing to do with whether I ask how wet she is or tell her how hard I am.”

  “Dude,” Derek
said to Bryce in passing, “give him some Bryce Advice. He fucking needs it.”

  Bryce belly laughed. “Bryce Advice? You’re a tool, Mate.”

  Derek held his hand to his side like a gun and waggled his eyebrows. “Yeah, a ‘power’ tool.”

  “Go and eat some cake, you idiot,” Bryce replied.

  “If by cake you mean Carly’s pussy, then that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

  “Not here you’re not,” I piped in. That was exactly what I didn’t need; Tash blaming me for oral sex I never had.

  “Chill, Deano. Listen to Bryce. He’s not just a pretty boy with a lot of money.” Derek lifted his chin, spotting someone behind me that he knew. “Hey hey, Dale, my man. What are you doin’ here?”

  I twisted just slightly, locking eyes with a guy who looked familiar but that I couldn’t quite place.

  “The birthday boy invited me. Where is the little tacker?”

  “DALE!” Thomas yelled from his spot in the pool. “You came!”

  “I sure did. A promise is a promise.”

  I smiled, even though I had no idea who he was. “Hi, I’m Dean,” I said offering my hand to shake as he stepped up to Bryce and I, “Thomas’s dad.”

  He gripped it. Firm. “I’m Dale. I work with your wife.” His eyes found Tash across the pool, and he nodded, acknowledging her, Tash giving him a small wave in return.

  I stared at the two of them for the smallest of seconds, and my gut did what guts do.

  It rumbled.

  Maybe I was hungry.

  Chapter Nine

  Tash

  What the fucksicle fuckstick is he doing here?

  “Why is Dale here?” I muttered under my breath to Alexis.

  “I dunno. Didn’t you invite him?”

  “No. Why would I invite him?”

  “Because you’re friends.”

  “We’re not,” I snapped, a little too defensively.

  Alexis’ eyes narrowed and then widened. She went to speak but I intervened. “I mean we are but we’re also not.”

  “Tash? What have—”

  I shook my head, interrupting her, and looked down at my wrung hands. “Not now. Not here.”

  “Hon, please tell me you haven’t done anything stupid.”

  Tilting my head up to meet her gaze, I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Oh, like you and Bryce?”

  She gasped, and her eyes quickly filled with tears. Shit! I instantly regretted what I’d said, as hers and Bryce’s situation had been completely different. Rick — her ex-husband — had cheated on her and been lying for years. And it wasn’t until that came to fruition that she allowed herself to be with Bryce. So yeah, my remark was way out of line.

  Sighing, I grabbed her hand and placed it between mine. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I didn’t mean it. Of course I didn’t mean it. You and Bryce are meant to be, regardless of how you came to be. Shit! I’m sorry. I … I need the bathroom.”

  Standing abruptly, I let go of her hand and made my way to my bedroom, closing the door and locking it behind me. What am I doing? What is he doing here? I slumped on the corner of my bed but quickly shot up again when I heard a knock at the door followed by Dale’s voice. “Tashy, you in there?”

  “NO! I mean yes. I mean … ” Go the fuck away. “Hang on a second.” I quickly smoothed down my hair and sundress — why? I had no freakin’ idea — and opened the door a few centimetres wide. “What the hell are you doing here?” I whispered.

  “Thomas invited me. I promised him I’d come.”

  “Thomas?”

  “Yeah, when we went on cadet duty the other day.”

  I opened the door a little further. “Oh. Okay. Well, thank you for coming. Please go and make yourself at home by the pool like everyone else.” I went to close the door but he wedged his foot in it. “Dale what are you doing? You can’t be here, here.”

  He furrowed his sexy brow. “What? Here, here, as in outside your bedroom?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s wrong.”

  “How? It’s just a room.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He laughed. “No, I don’t.”

  “Fine. I’m coming out then.”

  Flinging the door open completely, I stepped through and shut it behind me, the wooden panel closing against my back, my hand still holding the handle. Dale wasn’t courteous enough to budge an inch, which meant there was little to no space between us.

  “You have a nice house,” he said, his voice low, his eyes fixated to my lips.

  I sucked in a short breath and stared at his lips as well. They were really nice: smooth, uncracked, pink … full. “Thanks, but you haven’t seen it yet.”

  “That’s because you won’t let me.”

  My eyes met his and I snapped out of my lip-daze. “Fine. If you would kindly step aside, I’ll show you around.”

  A smile crinkled his eyes and he moved back. “After you.”

  I nodded and slipped past him, his scent attempting an attack on my ability to stand. “So … this is the …er ….”

  “Bathroom?”

  “Yes, the bathroom,” I stuttered, pointing to my right. “There’s a shower, basin, toilet … bath. Everything a bathroom needs.”

  He poked his head over my shoulder to take a peek, and the stubble on his cheek grazed my ear. “Nice curvature.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” I spun and faced him.

  “The bath. It has nice curvature.”

  My eyelids narrowed. “Hmm… moving on, shall we?”

  “We shall.” Ugh! Those goddamn crinkles.

  “Next, we have the laundry,” I said, sarcastically, pivoting and displaying the room as if I were on a game show and presenting a prize. “So how’s the curvature in here?”

  “I dunno, let me see.” Dale walked into the room, looked around, stopped and pulled open one of the dirty washing drawers. “Ahh … yes. Perfect curvature.”

  My jaw dropped when he lifted one of my bras, dangling it from the tip of his finger. “Put that down!” I snatched it from him, poked it back into the drawer and slid the drawer shut. “Out!”

  He hands found his pockets and he casually strolled past. “Where to next?”

  “The pool.” I shoved him toward the backdoor. “Your tour has concluded.”

  * * *

  The next few hours felt as awkward as wearing a G-string three sizes too small. When I thought I’d found a comfortable moment, snap! … G-string-right-up-my-arsecrack-unpleasantness. I couldn’t avoid it. All I could do was stand there and refrain from pulling the most hideous face, which was what I was doing while Dean and Dale were chattin’ like besties.

  “Do you have crabs?” Carly asked, stepping into my line of sight with her blonde bombshell pretty little head. “Because they’ve got cream for that,” she continued, but not before biting a carrot stick.

  I leaned to my side to try and see around her. “And you’d know all about that, huh?”

  “Nope. No hair, no crabs down there.”

  I burst into laughter and covered my face with my hand. Carly was such a fun-loving, carefree, filterless nympho, and I adored how not much fazed her at all.

  “Well, if you must know,” I explained, whispering through my fingers. “I’ve no fanny forest for crabs to frolic in either.”

  “So why are you pulling that ugly I-have-an-itchy-snatch look?”

  “It’s not an itchy snatch look.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “What is?” Alexis asked, taking a seat on the banana lounge beside us, Brayden on her lap and wearing the cutest Nemo swimming nappy.

  I gave her a small, apologetic smile. I still felt so ashamed for having said what I’d said earlier on.

  She half-smiled back and shoved her adorable little four month-old into my arms. “Here, hold this.”

  “This?” I asked,
having no choice but to practically catch him because the little wiggly worm tried to launch himself back at his mother.

  “Yeah, ‘this’ bundle of cuteness that sucks the near life out of me every feed time.” She subtly adjusted her boobs within her bathing suit. “I swear they’re shrinking.”

  Truth of the matter was, she was shrinking, but I dared not tell her that after my word spew from before. “They’re not. You look good. Seriously, I wish I could wear a bathing suit as confidently as you do.”

  “Ha! I feel very uncomfortable right now. But, my babies want a swim with their mum, so a swim I shall give them.”

  A sudden and forceful vibration hit my arm, followed by a grunt and a godawful smell.

  “You’re doing it again,” Carly said, crunching on the last of her carrot stick.

  “Doing what?”

  “Itchy Snatch Face.”

  “Na,” I said, shaking my head and holding Brayden out to Alexis as if he were Simba from the Lion King. “What you’re looking at is Shitty Nappy Face.”

  “What? You’ve got to be kidding me. I just changed the little ratbag.” She took him from me and did what all mothers do when checking to see if their baby has taken a dump — she pressed her nose into his butt. “BRAY! Why?” Alexis turned him to face her. “Why do you do this to me?”

  He squealed, leaned forward and sucked on her nose.

  “Stop it, you little monster. You’re not cute right now.”

  “He’s always cute, aren’t you, my little man?” Bryce placed his hand just above Alexis’s arse while kissing his son’s head.

  “Yep. And he’s all yours. Here, go to Daddy. Daddy thinks you’re cute.” She shoved Brayden into Bryce’s arms and waited.

  So did I.

  So did Carly.

  “Are you gonna go for a swim with Mumm—” Bryce paused, wrinkled his nose and glared at Alexis, suspiciously. “I see what you’ve done here.”

  We all cracked up laughing, except for Bryce. He just stared at Alexis with a look I’d never seen before but that transfixed me instantly. It was a look of undeniable love, devotion, awe, … a look of indisputable need. Intensity roared from his eyes, which were unwavering as they pierced her — pierced me — and they weren’t even targeting me.