Mind F*ck

by Dawn, Kimber S.

  No has never been a word I considered or liked. It’s always felt too final to me.

  I barely remembered my mother’s death or the days after, and the one memory I do have was one of me a few days before she died. I’d walked into her room to check on her, but her lips were blue and I couldn’t tell if she was breathing. It freaked me out. I was so young, and I didn’t know what to do. So, I slammed the heels of hands against her chest, once, twice, and on the third time, I folded my hands together and knelt beside her bed before praying to God, asking him not to take my mother away.

  The stark difference between my mother’s eerie sinister chuckle after I prayed, compared to Lexy’s soft, sexy one when she cums, is scary sometimes. Both chuckles are so beautiful for such completely different reasons. Lexy’s being just bright enough to weigh the balance of the darkness my mother and her memory once brought into my life. Lexy’s love and light brightens the darkness of my mother’s tattered voice telling me, “No,” when I prayed for her life.

  “No—” she’d told me, “—don’t pray for that. I’m ready, sweet boy.” My mother’s eyes were the same shade of green as Lexy’s, and as they looked between mine, like Lexy’s are now, I wanted to beg her to never say no to me again. But I didn’t. I was too young, too immature, and too inexperienced to know that if you really wanted something, you didn’t talk about it, or dream about it, you did it. And there was no such thing as no. Not to me. Not from that point on.

  I realize that statement can be as ignorant as it literally is taken, but do with it what you will. I don’t take kindly to the word no.

  I did everything right with her. I think as I look down at her and feel something good and right warm my heart. “I’ll love you forever, baby girl, you’ll always be mine. And as long as I love you, you’ll get everything you need or could want. A child included. Is that understood?” She nods. “And is it also understood, that until the time comes for that child to happen, your only job is to make our new house a home for our family?” I ask sternly, but loving the fact she gets so giddy, even months after I began having the perfect home for us built.

  It’s the most extravagant house in upstate New York. On the grandest stretch of land, consisting of over a thousand acres, with three ponds, horses, and bees for Lexy to keep. It’s beautiful. Expensive, but worth it. When Jackson’s Agency made the leap and branched out from California to New York, I knew that’s where my family would grow up. That’s where Lexy and I would bring home our first of many children, where we’d play perfect house, and she would be the perfect wife to the perfect husband. I wouldn’t let her get depressed like my pops did with my mother. No, no. I would stay vigilant. I would push my wife and myself, I would overcome. I will, because I have no other choice. I can’t turn out like my father. I can’t. His mind is leaving him as quickly as his assets hemorrhage out, leaving me and my new series seven being the ones to fix his horrid investment selections and uphold his family’s family name. My family name. I hadn’t planned on having to set my father up in a home in Rhode Island at the same time I was building my fortress and home, so it put us back a few months moving in. I’m not used to being put off, but I held my tongue, buckled down, and worked my ass off, climbing the rungs of the cooperate ladder until I had perfectly situated myself amongst the top stockbrokers, not only in my firm, but in the country. It took me less than six months to turn my top account holders from millionaires into billionaires—making my time frame of moving into our new house and starting the new firm in New York, be delayed for almost a year.

  As I look down at Lexy, I smile. I can’t help it. She’s so damn beautiful, so damn sexy, she’s perfect.

  “You ready to move into our home, tomorrow, baby girl?” I ask her. I know she’s been as excited about the move as I have, I just like to hear her tell me.

  “Liam, I’m so excited. I can’t wait,” she whispers, smiling.

  She’s been so good, done everything perfectly right, just as I knew she would. Keeping the smile on my face, I keep my eyes on hers as I reach to the bedside bureau and slide the top drawer open before feeling the velvet jewelry box and grabbing it. I slowly bring it up so she can see and flick the top open, revealing the Tiffany’s white gold key and lock necklace. “Liam, wh—” Her wide dark green eyes glance up at mine, and I see the tell-tell signs of pure devotion in them, “Liam…” She smiles sweetly, and I watch as she looks back down to the obnoxious gift. “You didn’t have to do this, but thank you. I love it, baby—” Her eyes fly back up to mine before she corrects her mistake, “Liam.”

  I can’t express how proud I am of my wife in moments like these. As rough around the edges as she is, she handles herself like a well-bred woman, ever poised in her manners and etiquette. She learned the hard way, long ago that if her emotions get too overwhelming and she doesn’t feel confident enough that she can keep them reined in, she has to let them go.

  “And the baby?” I ask, for clarification.

  I don’t speak to her the way I do to hurt her, I do it to intimidate her. And I don’t do it because I enjoy it, I do it to help make her grow.

  Everything I do, is for Lexy.

  We have a big life ahead of us. Without ‘No’s’ or financial concerns, and it’s because of my hard work— not hers— that we’re as blessed as we are.

  I need her ready.

  “The baby will come, I know that, Liam. Until it does, I will make our home, ours.”

  I smile at her response because it’s perfect. And then I slip the necklace around her thin, pale neck and thumb the clasp.

  “I love you, Lexy.” I interrupt her whispered, ‘thank you’s’ as I close the clasp.

  And she whispers in return, “I love you too, so much, Liam. Thank you.”

  The land alone is absolutely breathtaking. Acre upon acre of rich, beautiful emerald green land with muddy, blue ponds perfectly placed as to be seen from the long, black stretch of road that runs along the estate and up the red-brick paved front circular driveway. But it’s the dark hidden caves and thick green forest that I’ve secretly coveted since my first and only visit here, back ten months ago when Liam brought me to where we would spend the rest of our lives.

  My eyes water at the sheer magnitude of the monstrosity Liam has built.

  Don’t get me wrong, it’s extravagant. It’s every girl’s dream house. All four stories of it. It’s just not my ultimate dream house.

  I’ve never needed opulence or extravagant things. My mother did, she loved to be wined and dined. Hell, every husband of hers had only one prerequisite: be more providing than the last. And although it was never needed, the benefits of her standards were also shared with me. But never to this extravagance. No, never like this.

  My eyes scan the white marble exterior as Liam leans into me and whispers into my ear, “I told you I’d build you a house worthy of a king…and a queen. Didn’t I?” He chuckles.

  When I see the foreman step forward to speak to Liam, I don’t answer, instead I smile at my husband and nod towards the other man.

  It took a while, but over the years, I did learn to learn my husband. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s really the only way I know how to explain it. When you decide to give yourself, all of yourself and your future to someone like Liam Dean, at some point you reconcile the amount of work and discipline it will require to not only love them, but make that love work. It took time and patience, and a damn keen eye, but after nine years? I’ve learned him.

  I know when to speak. How to speak. And whom I’m to speak to.

  And Liam Dean’s wife doesn’t speak to foreman.

  As I step to my husband’s left, I prepare myself for an avalanche of excuses from the foreman and Liam’s no-nonsense retorts to commence.

  “Mr. Dean, didn’t expect you until this evening. Sorry some of the men are still on site, but they should be out of your hair in less than an hour. Mrs. Dean, I hope this doesn’t inconvenience your house warming party.” The kind man gently smiles,
and I briefly wonder if he has grandchildren as I smile in return and step closer towards Liam.

  “No need to worry. The party isn’t till next week.” After my husband intercepts as I anticipated, he turns towards me, “Baby girl, if you’ll head in and let the housekeeper, Mary, know we’ve arrived, she’ll show you to the main rooms. Mr. Smith, you told me noon yesterday, correct?”

  Before Liam has a chance to tear into him about timeliness, I hurry towards the house in search of a woman who looks like a Mary.

  For reasons unknown to me, as I near the house, my excited anxiety is quickly replaced with dread and uncertainty. The massive white marble columns supporting the upper floors seem to grow and almost loom over me as I step from the stone pathway onto the polished stairs leading to the front double doors. My eyes land on the intricate details of the stained glass set into the doors at the same time I step onto the top step. Once I even out my breathing, I place a smile on my face and grasp the wrought iron doorknobs and turn both, opening the doors.

  The massive, red mahogany doors creek open with barely a sound, and I step into the main foyer and living areas of the house. Both areas are still dark with nothing but a few curtains drawn back, letting only the cloud-filtered sun spill across the shiny, dark hardwood floor. “Hello?” My voice echoes across the room and a second later, I hear footsteps entering the main area.

  My eyes land on a beautiful, thin brunette woman as she rounds the stairwell. “I thought I heard someone pull up, I’m Mary.” She holds her hand out towards me, and I step forward, smiling. Once we’re close, we shake hands and she continues, “You must be Lexy, welcome home.” Her smile lights up her whole face, but it’s her dark brown eyes that almost immediately earn my trust.

  “I am. It’s nice to meet you, Mary. And thank you.” After I return her smile, I step towards a side table and reach for the lamp. “May I?” I ask.

  “Sure. Absolutely.” She moves towards the windows and begins drawing back the curtains further.

  After the room is nicely lit, we meet back at our introduction place and smile awkwardly for a minute. When we both go to speak, I wave my hand for her to continue. After we both giggle, she begins, “Sorry. Would you like me to show you the master rooms?” She smiles.

  “That’s perfect,” I tell her.

  She directs me out of the main area and through the house, and once we’ve climbed the wide stairs leading to the second and third floors, she points in the general left. “That area is where your rooms and bathroom area is.” I follow her right and continue down a long hall closely behind her. “This is where yours and Mr. Dean’s rooms are, though.” As soon as she walks through a set of double doors, lights from the ceiling and under the crown molding silhouette the edges of the room. The foyer leading into the room is ostentatious, for even Liam’s tastes, so the bedroom…honestly, it takes me almost five minutes to wrap my head around it and speak.

  “Wow.” It isn’t intelligent, nor is it very explanatory, but it’s all I have at this moment.

  “My words, exactly.” I see her nod in my peripheral. “I don’t see a need for any more. That about sums it up.” She moves back in the direction of the door, and I follow suit and file in behind her.

  I said I learned my husband.

  Not that I learned my husband and mastered said knowledge. And this may be my downfall.

  As Mary leads, I follow her and listen as she speaks, “I’m excited for you to see your private rooms. I had carte blanche on the decorating. It isn’t as…wow, as the one you’ll share with Mr. Dean.”

  As we make our way back towards the left wing and my private rooms, I wonder just how much I’ll have to adjust from the California Liam to the New York Liam.

  I know this is it. I know this is what he’s been working towards. I was there at his side, almost every step of the way. I know this new position at Jackson’s is going to put a lot of pressure on him. I’m just hopeful that the worse is behind us. That the struggling, the part where he’s always so frustrated and on edge, that part is over and now we can settle into settling in.

  On the other hand, I know how much pressure he’s still under, and unfortunately I don’t see us moving into this grand, new house making his stress any better.

  Then again, he wants this. He says he’s always wanted this.

  Who am I to not give the man I love what he wants?

  “I’m not trying to say I don’t like yours and Mr. Dean’s room, I do.” Mary’s voice brings me back to the present as she ushers us into the foyer, and the quiet beauty of the anteroom causes my steps to falter. “See, it’s perfect, isn’t it?” She beams at my side. I decide in this moment that I like Mary. I like her a lot. And I know I had my reservations about Liam hand picking our housekeeper, but he surprises me. Even now, over simple things, he still surprises me.

  “Mary, I know exactly what you mean. While the other room is…extraordinary,” I say with a wink and a smile, “this one is…breathtaking. Thank you. I couldn’t have decorated it so perfectly if I tried. You did a wonderful job.”

  The woman standing beside me smiles and looks across the bedroom we’ve just stepped in. I see pride on her face and my heart warms. “Before my husband comes in and starts barking orders, tell me about yourself, Mary. Kids? Married? What’s your story?” I smile at her over my shoulder as I walk towards the bathroom.

  I reach and flip the switch on, and light spills onto the pale pink and ivory-colored marble floor. The old timey claw-foot bathtub positioned in the middle of the bathroom in front of wall to floor windows picturing the sprawling green backyard is almost enough to distract me from my girl time with my new friend. Almost.

  “Married. Divorced. Then married again. I was lucky enough to be blessed with two lives, I guess you could say.” She chuckles as her words echo back through my mind.

  “Two? How’s that?” I ask, probably looking as confused as I sound.

  “Well, I started early the first go-round. I was sixteen when I got married and had my first child. When I graduated high school I was a mother of two with one on the way. My first husband and I were married for fifteen years. It was a good fifteen years, too. We just…I don’t know, fell apart I guess at the end. And between the two of us juggling being single, we met our second, second halves, and both started our own new families, while getting our own children graduated from high school. Then…I guess it was about a year and a half ago, I met Charles.” Her hand rests on her lower abdomen. After a private smile and few beats of time, she smiles and continues, “And between me and you, I just found out last night we’re expecting.”

  Her beautiful smile warms my heart at the same time it decimates it, but when she looks up at me with tears in her eyes, any jealousy blooming immediately stops. “He didn’t…well, we didn’t think he could. You know?”

  I nod as I say a quick prayer for my new friend, Mary and her husband Charles. I would love to get the chance to watch as Mary’s belly grows. I’ve never had many friends, much less pregnant ones. Mostly because Liam’s friends, or their wives, were the only ‘friendship’ material around. And it was slim pickings, but that’s all I’ll say. Well that, and they were all so stuck up, I can’t tell if they were smiling or they’d just tasted something bitter. But that, is all I’ll say.

  So to get the chance to be side by side with someone as real and down to earth as Mary seems to be… seems to be, freaking perfect.

  She’d be an awesome friend, I just know it. And she’s pregnant?

  I need to know this stuff. This is grade A inside info. Having a pregger’s friend will be like having a 411 on What to Expect, right there, all the time.

  It’s probably a too swift judgment on my part, but it’s knee-jerk, and I’m trying to save this woman’s employment. So no, I don’t run it by Liam. Actually, what I do is worse. I smooth over.

  “Mary.” I softly smile and walk towards her. I gently wrap my arms around her shoulders and hug her, before whispering in her ear, “Let
’s keep that last part between you and I, for just a few weeks. I’ll tell you why. But first you, and I have a lot of catching up to do.” I pull away from hugging her, and we both smile.

  “I like you, Lexy.” She smirks at me.

  “I like you too, Mary.” I smirk back at my new friend.

  Liam can’t know about Mary’s pregnancy. I know this may seem strange to you, but you just don’t understand. You can’t understand how much our infertility problems have been weighing on him.

  I’d like to think of this little white lie, or default in information, as a smooth over. He’ll learn about it soon enough.

  It’s not always bad to hold information, and I will tell him. I will. Eventually.

  Most of the day was spent unpacking and helping put things away, but during, I was quickly learning how much I was going to love living in our new house, but not near as much as I was going to love Mary. She’s very much like the sister I always wanted growing up, but at the same time, she also reminds me a lot of my mother. Which is odd, because to look at the two women, you’d never tell.

  By the time Mary and I have both sides of the second floor unpacked, she has me in stitches I’m laughing so hard. I don’t think I’ve smiled, let alone laughed this much in as long as I can remember.

  And while me and my mom are close, it’s times like this that makes me wish we were closer. But it seems like the longer I’m married, the more further she moves away, and the less time we get to spend together.

  I smile when Mary says something about big girl panties as we make our way downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of wine, but my saddening thoughts go to my mother. I haven’t seen Gigi since last Christmas, and that’s really too long.

  My mother, Gigi, has never really approved in my choice of husband. But Liam hasn’t really ever approved of my mother either. This tends to further complicate our spending time together, but I do as much as I can, when I can. And once a week I listen to my mother bitch about it.