**
A few days later, I’m in town at the coffee shop before I need to go over and grab my birth control from the pharmacy. Standing in line, I’m used to, like everywhere I go here, people looking at me. I’m wearing ‘normal clothes’ so it’s not that. It’s the reputation I have I guess. I hear snippets of the conversations around me. The coffee house is mainly filled with moms on mom dates as their kids watch their iPads at the tables, along with the occasional student on their laptop with earbuds crammed in their ears.
“The vet’s wife.”
My ears perk up and I step a little to my left to hear more clearly, and I don’t know why, it’s not like I give a shit…do I? Of course I fucking do!
“Jill told me she went to their house for a wine thing, said she loved anal. Who says that? Then, she went outside to the guys and was all over them-”
“How does her husband put up with that?”
“I don’t know, but Jill said we need to keep an eye on our husbands.”
“Black coffee,” the Barista announces and I step up to take it.
My blood is boiling with irritation and as I turn around to exit, I see the table of two looking at me, like they want to puke at my mere presence. I give them a smile and walk over. Once they notice I’m coming to their table, they fake smile back at me.
“Can you guys tell Dawn something for me?” I ask.
“Absolutely,” the one blonde nods.
I tip my sunglasses down with my index finger so they can see my eyes and say, “Ask her to ask her husband if he enjoyed watching my husband rub my pussy until I came in front of him.”
“Oh my God,” the other says, putting her hand over her chest.
I push my glasses back up and begin for the door, “Have a nice day ladies.”
The entire drive home, I curse myself for even sinking to that level, I’m so irritated I completely forgot to go to the pharmacy. When I get home, Stones waving goodbye to a client as a pick-up drives past me and the driver gives me a wave. Stone remains outside as he sees me pulling up. He’s in a faded Harley Davidson shirt, his hair tied back and smiling at me. The smile begins to fade as he sees my expression.
“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing.
I realize then that all this; all my complaints and annoyances since we moved to this town, aren’t fair to him. So, in an effort to alleviate some of the stress I cause my husband, I shake my head.
“Nothing, I forgot to pick up my birth control from the pharmacy.”
“Oh,” he says, in a tone of voice like he’s taken aback by my response.
I can see that it visibly pleases him that I don’t have something to bitch about. And something comes over me I rarely feel, yet I’ve felt more with this man that anyone else in my life. Guilt. I hug him and he puts his tree trunk arms around me, kissing the top of my head as we walk back into the house. His skin is hot, just like always and I burrow closer as a cool breeze blows over us.
“Got anymore clients for the day?” I ask.
“Nah. What do you have planned the rest of the day?” he asks.
“Getting naked with you,” I reply.
DING DING
“Noooo!” I pout, ready to take his work phone and break it. “The house is bugged, I swear to God,” I say with a tone of voice I think reflects the mania I feel inside at this moment.
“I love you,” he tells me, kissing my lips before grabbing the keys to his truck and I watch him pull down the driveway.
**
Since the wine party ordeal and my Calico coming out at the coffee house, I’ve been attempting to really make a go at living here, and making my husband happy. I’ve toned down my make-up and clothes even more, which I didn’t know I could do, and look like someone who strictly shops at L.L. Bean. Stones not said anything, but I know he notices. Giving me odd looks when he sees me dressed for the day. We haven’t had any more get togethers at our place, but I’ve accompanied Stone to all the things we get invited to, which before he used to go stag.
The women still look at me like a whore, because of course what Jill said about my wine party AND what I said in regards to Brent spread all over town. While the men, also probably hearing the Brent story, looked at me like I’d get on my knees and suck them off if they asked. I took it all in stride. Smiling when smiled at, but mainly tucking into a corner and sipping my wine. I don’t particularly like wine, but if I drank anything else, they’d talk about that too. When Stone looks at me from across the room, I give him a bright smile and pretend to be involved with the conversations around me, thankful that he doesn’t see the women scoff and moments later move away from me.
This is for Stone. I repeat over and over in my head. I can do this. I plastered smiles on many times at The Magnolia, why can’t I do it for my husband?
On our way home one night from another bullshit party, Stones quiet as he drives us down the backroads, he’s even obeying the speed limit.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He grunts, and I know he’s irritated about something, but I don’t push. He’s been tired lately with several mare’s giving birth in the middle of the night the last two weeks. I look out the window into the darkness as Echo and The Bunnymen’s “The Killing Moon” plays over the speakers.
We get home and I head upstairs to take off my clothes and get ready for bed. Tossing my dirty laundry in the hamper in the corner of the bedroom, I put on my black silk robe and gather all my hair on top of my head and into a bun. Moving into the bathroom, I turn the water on at the sink and let it warm up, rubbing a make-up remover cloth over my face before washing it. Leaning down as I brush my teeth to spit out the foamy water, I rise and startle when I see Stone standing in the doorway beside me.
“You can stop pretending,” he states, brows pulled down, arms crossed.
“Pretending?” I ask, screwing up my face and wiping my lips with a towel.
“Lisa…I know you don’t like wine or talking about Cameron Diaz movies.”
“Sure I do,” I nod, feeling my insides cringe with the lie.
He shakes his head. “Just stop it. I don’t fucking like it…it’s not you.”
Stone being genuinely mad wasn’t my intention and I feel my plan begin to backfire.
“I’m just trying to make things easier for you, to make you happy, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do as someone who loves you?”
“Yeah, but are you happy?” he asks.
I don’t answer, but shrug my shoulders slightly.
“I know what everyone’s saying. The chicks from the night they came over, my friends’ wives.”
“Did I ruin Brent’s life by saying what happened?” I ask with worry lacing my tone, nerves in my belly because if what I did took a friend from Stone, then I quit. I’ll get some cats and become a shut in.
“Nah, his wife was more focused on the fact that we did that in front of him, just propelled what she thinks of you,” he shrugs.
“Grrrrr,” I growl, putting my head back and feeling the irritation of this town all through me. “Me? Like I masturbated out there,” I almost laugh, since I get the blame and no one looks at Stone like they do me. Which is good, I don’t want them to and I’ll shoulder all the blame, but still.
I walk out to the bedroom, Stone following as he takes a seat on the bed.
“Why do you give a shit about what any of these people think? You never did in Georgia.”
“I don’t…okay, maybe I do,” I sigh, closing my eyes and begin pacing in front of the bed. “When I was a whore, I owned that. I knew what I was, and didn’t care if that’s what people knew me as. But now I’m trying to be better and a good wife- make a go of this, and I don’t want them to think badly of you because of what I am.”
“And what are you?” he asks, his voice thick and strained as he steps closer. I can see in his eyes he’s fearing my answer, like he thinks I’m about to tell him I’m leaving or something.
“Completely in love with yo
u,” I pout. “But I feel so insecure in this role.”
One big hand reaches out for me and I stop my hectic pace, looking down at it before I slip my much smaller hand into it. His fingers enclose around mine as he pulls me to sit on his lap. I curl up like a baby, tucking my head under his chin and his arms cradle me.
“I love you. You know this?”
I nod.
“I know it’s easy for me to say that you shouldn’t care what they say or think. But I understand that you do. It breaks my heart, babe, that you’re unhappy here.”
I growl again, wiping stupid tears off my face. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t want you to have to worry if I’m happy or not. I want you to focus on your career and practice and feel good, feel like we’re good,” I tell him, looking up at him with watery eyes as I raise my head. “I don’t want you to feel like our relationship has anything to do with this situation. Because that’s not the case. But then I feel this way and remember how you were the other day, thinking because I wasn’t happy here due to being with you.”
I rest the side of my head on his shoulder, looking at his profile as his eyes are trained down at his hand petting my robe covered arm.
“I didn’t think all this would be so exhausting,” I add.
Stone looks at me, sincerity and the deepest of love in his eyes, his hand reaching over to clear my face of tears. I know he’s telling me he’ll make it all right, but fuck, I don’t want him to worry about this.
“I’ll be fine, just let me be a chick for a minute, okay?” I ask.
“Oh, I’ll let you be a chick,” he growls, flipping us and my back lands on the bed as he stands and begins to remove his clothes. “Wanna do missionary while you’re being all girly?” he asks.
“If you mean in the butt missionary, then yes,” I tell him, untying the robe and moving my fingers up the lapels, parting the material before him.
“But you’re crying…I don’t want to take advantage,” he says, just as he removes the last piece of clothing and stands before me, the perfect image of man. His beautiful cock, erect and leaning from the weight, my breath catches as his hands begin to stroke his shaft, the head popping out as his foreskin pulls back. “Do you think it’s too big for you, we don’t have to,” he says this and I look up at him, both of us smiling as I recall the first time we were together and his words mirrored those.
“If you go slow, I don’t want it to hurt.”
“I think it might hurt,” he nods.
“Hmmm, then you better put it in all at once and cover my mouth so my parents don’t hear me.”
A full-blown smile spreads over his lips, leaning down as he kisses me.
**
I’m intently watching a YouTube video on my phone in the kitchen, attempting a new burger recipe. Because if there’s one thing other than me and animals that Stone loves, it’s meat, and I try to make him different things to keep my sanity mainly. Hands covered in the raw ground beef concoction as I mix everything together and Twin Peaks plays in the background on the television in the living room. I register Stones truck tires crunching on the fallen leaves as he pulls up beside the house, but I’m more focused on the instructor of the video than his arrival.
“Hey, babe,” he greets, entering the side door. “Smells good in here,” he comments.
“Hey,” I reply quickly.
“Ahhh, you’re making burgers?!” he asks, equal parts hopeful and excited.
“Yeah, well, trying,” I reply, still attempting to hear the instructions.
He stands beside me, looking between the video and what I’m doing. He waits there patiently until I get the hang of it and don’t need the video anymore, before he says, “So, we’re going out of town this weekend, you down?”
My face pulls an expression of surprise. “For what, a client?”
“No. It’s almost our birthday’s so I figured we get out of town for a few days.”
My birthday is at the end of October and his is in early November, but we’ve never really celebrated together before, other than maybe getting a new sex toy.
“Really?”
“Yeah, why, you don’t want to?”
“I just thought you had a lot of work going on-”
“Don’t worry about work,” he tells me.
“Um, okay,” I smile. “When?”
“After dinner.”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah, cool? It’s gonna take us a while to drive there, so I figure a few hours tonight, stay at a hotel and finish up tomorrow so we can have a night there.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
I groan, “How do I pack for a surprise?” I mumble.
“Already got you packed.”
I stop working on the patties and turn to face him. “Well, color me impressed.”
“I’ll color you white if you look at me any longer like that.”
“Ew!”
He gives me a playful smile, the kind that crinkles the outer corners of his eyes and made me fall in love with him. I love seeing him like this and silently tell myself that I’ll make this weekend away the best for him.
3
I have no idea where we’re going. Stones done an amazing job of keeping it all hush hush and diverting me or distracting me while we passed anything that might clue me into our destination. That included reading him The New York Times from beginning to end aloud, checking his emails and also reading those to him, road head, him fingering me, and selecting the music.
“Is it an amusement park?”
“There’s amusing things there to do,” he answers.
“Is it like an animal sanctuary where you have some pull and we get to go into cages with tigers or something?”
“Uh, no,” he says through a slight chuckle.
“Are we meeting up with your college buddies?”
He shakes his head.
I keep asking in hopes that he’ll get sick of my questions and just tell me. But then I think maybe he likes it, so I decide to stop asking and look out the window. Sure enough, ten minutes into my silence, he nudges my thigh with the back of his hand and a grunt, instantly the action reminds me of a gorilla.
“Hmmm?” I ask, still looking out the window.
“You give up?” he asks.
I nod, looking over at him. He’s wearing a threadbare band t-shirt, so worn in I don’t even know what band it’s from, olive green cargo pants, his hair in a topknot, and black sunglasses. One hand on the wheel, puts his thick bicep between us and my sunglass covered eyes scan from his hand up his arm to his face.
“I do,” I sigh.
He tilts his chin toward the windshield and I look to see a sign ahead of us that reads: WELCOME TO LOUISIANA.
“I’m taking you to New Orleans.”
“Oh cool!” I smile with excitement.
“Surprise,” he adds and I squeal, leaning over and grabbing his face, kissing his cheek roughly.
**
“Do we have anything planned?” I ask as we walk to our hotel room in a beautiful old hotel in the French Quarter. It reminds me of The Magnolia with its southern charm, amazing craftmanship, and gorgeous detail of the interior.
“Some. What do you want to do?”
“We definitely have to do one of those ghost tour things,” I reply, looking through the brochure I grabbed in the lobby.
Stone opens the door and walks in and I gape at how beautiful the room is. Again, the detail and feel this room gives off, its exactly how you’d imagine a room in an old creepy New Orleans hotel to be. The walls are red, the bed is black wrought iron, the bedding white. The wood floors are black and a black dresser has a flat screen T.V. on top of it, while a small bathroom that’s white with black tiled flooring is situated just beside the door.
“You like?” he questions.
“Hell yes! This is perfect,” I tell him with a smile.
I can see this pleases him, that he did good.
“Thank you for this,” I add, taking his hand.
He says nothing, but leans over and kisses my forehead. Setting the bags on the bed, Stone then moves toward the balcony doors, opening them and stepping out onto the small ledge that lines the entire outside of the room. The wrought iron handrail is intricate with detail, and again perfect for the place.
Opening our bags, I begin to put the clothes away in the antique dresser across from the bed. I always put our stuff away when we stay at a hotel, I don’t like living out of a suitcase for some reason. When I get to my bag, I realize how light it is, since Stone packed it and come to think of it, I haven’t laid hands on it until now.
“Um,” is all I get out as I lift up the “clothes” that have been packed for me.
“Yeah?” Stone asks, still on the balcony as he looks over his shoulder at me.
“What?” I ask, holding up a fishnet dress. “Stone, I can’t go out to things in this?”
“Sure you can,” he tells me.
Am I missing something? Or is this a total dude move where he’s completely oblivious to women’s fashion, that see-thru things aren’t considered an outfit? Grabbing my phone, I begin searching for the nearest store I can go buy clothes in since clearly I can’t wear any of this.
“What are you doing?” Stone asks, coming into the room and putting his hand over my phone.
“Stone. I can’t go out in a leather bikini,” I state.
“You have the clothes on your back. These are for what I planned for us at night.”
“Which is?”
Knowing he’s going to tell me us having sex in the hotel, but why would he drag me across the U.S. for what we can do at home?
“I have another surprise for you.”
**
Other than telling me we had plans for the night, we spent the rest of the afternoon and evening doing whatever I wanted. We walked around, stopped at some bars to listen to live music, ate gumbo, jambalaya, crawfish, and oysters. We got buzzed on beers and just hung out with each other. It felt good, good to be with my husband. And although we were a unit back home, he was busy with work and we didn’t often get to connect in a non-sexual way. The sun set and we went on a haunted history tour, where Stone tried his best to scare me at every opportunity possible.
Calico & Stone: A Spin-Off from The Pussycat featured in Brothel: The Magnolia Diaries Page 3