by L. U. Ann
A hand strokes my back until my cries are absent. A finger lifts my chin to meet his lips. Heart beating briskly, I melt into the man who I am still head over heels in love with. He pulls back adding space between us. “I didn’t want to interrupt your time, but my heart was calling out to comfort yours. I could not stay away. You occupy too much of my heart and soul to hide your suffering.” His thumb traces my bottom lip. The simple act causes me to involuntarily close my eyes and part my lips. “Lacey, I can’t imagine what you are struggling with, but please know I am here. I will always be here for you.” His lips barely touch mine. “I will go to the ends of the earth for you if it guarantees your happiness. There isn’t one thing I wouldn’t do for you.”
His soft, full lips memorize mine as he gently kisses my sad thoughts away. The roaring wind swirls around. All too soon, his hand tightens its hold of my hair demanding more. I welcome the power in this colossal kiss. Softly reclining our bodies, the energy from the waves can be found in the way we move. The salty air moves over us as soothing movements are just out of reach.
“Devon...” I pant.
“I love you so much, Lacey,” he promises, eyes glistening like the water while they search my soul.
“But Ev—” a finger on my lips halts further talk.
“My parents know I came to look for you. He’s fine, baby.” His fingers tame the wisp of hairs flying in the breeze. “I had to come to you.” He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against mine. “Before you left, I knew I should have come. Watching you hurt is eating me up, Lacey. Please don’t hide from me.” Mournful tears are replaced with those full of hope that tomorrow will be okay. That I can wake up in the morning without so much subjective grief.
A finger wipes away a tear replaced by a kiss that surely is to leave my lips swollen. He pulls back. “Take a deep breath. I want you to inhale my love, Lacey.” I do as he says. “That’s my love you are filling yourself with—it’s our future.” My eyes find his and comprehend the overwhelming devouring of my soul. “And with every exhale, you remove some of that painful past and our hopeful future takes its place.” His mouth covers mine in slow, tender movements. Hands begin their search knowing where to make the other feel alive. In a quick motion, rolled to the position on top, I freeze, wanting to record this moment to memory. Consumed with frequent darkness, I find my light through him. He is saving me from my disastrous self.
With realization, I slowly begin to move. Appreciation, gratitude, and love overwhelm the moment. His love is the Band-Aid to my soul, the light to my shadow, the cultivated land needed for spring growth. He is what is helping me to move forward.
“You’re so beautiful, baby.” Devon groans pulling my shirt. Fingers caress my sides as he slips it off. The breeze, now cool, awakens my senses. His mouth finds my breasts nibbling nipples through the satin fabric supporting them. Quickly, they are released eliciting a shiver of excitement as I arch for more, and he pulls me closer in his seat on the sand. “Lacey, let me love you.”
Pulling and tugging on his hair, my mouth finds his responding to his question. On a deserted beach, we find comfort and peace in one another fueling our intense connection.
Brushing the sand off each other, my eyes catch something shiny and then another. How did I not see this before or feel it? “Devon, look at this,” I say picking up the piece of discarded glass. My eyes adjusting, they find a trail along the line of shore in the opposite direction.
“It’s sea glass.”
“Sea glass?” I ask confused.
“Yeah, people tossing bottles or maybe from a nearby dump.”
“A dump? We’re on a beach near a dump?” I shout dropping the tepid glass. Filth washes over me so I begin to rub them on my jeans expunging the germs. Devon stifles a laugh at my horrid expression. “It’s not funny!” I gripe at him.
“Sweetheart,” he laughs circling me with his arms, “it’s probably old. Let me see,” he loosens his hold. Retrieving the piece, he inspects. Holding it up to the descending rays, the soft sea blue contradicts the opaque appearance. Repeatedly scratched, it is safe and will not cut my finger. “This piece is well-conditioned.”
He hands me the foreign object for my inspection. It is incredibly beautiful. “Lacey, they call it sea glass because the waves move the shards along the sand and rock acting like sandpaper to give it this frost look.” He animates the rocking movement of the surf.
Now holding a new profound beauty, I take the piece and study through the low light. Fingers rub the edges and gloss over the surface examining the new gem. “Wow, it is pretty.”
“The pH of the water is also a factor. Alkaline water will give the glass more frost than its counterpart.” Mesmerized, I watch the man of my dreams talk casually as if he knows everything about sea glass. He definitely knows a lot.
“How do you know so much about this?” I ask befuddled since I have never heard of this before.
“Ryan and I found a bunch of it along the shore of the Maine resort.” I picture two little boys running along the beach after building a sand castle. Dressed in nothing but board shorts, the boys run in and out of the surf as the cold water tickles their feet. Sand oozing through their toes as they walk collecting shells, sea glass, and whatever else Mother Nature washed ashore. I bet that was fun and Evan would enjoy that, too. But I don’t think we will be visiting a place filled with bitter and hateful memories. No, we can bring Evan here.
For the next thirty minutes, handfuls of these shards are studied and collected. Devon educates me on how to tell if a piece is ‘ready.’ Holding it out, if you can see through it, toss it back. The shard isn’t ready. If it is covered in the frost, it is. I cannot believe how once my eyes adjust, there are so many. Colors are found in clear, brown, and greens have about three shades, and blues and the cobalt blue Devon says are keepers. Just as we are leaving, I find a red piece. “Reds are hard to find. If you find blue, red, yellow, pink, purple, and even black glass you need to keep them if you’re looking to start a collection,” he tells me.
Guess who has a new hobby? I smile.
“I love you,” I whisper against his chest as thoughts of yesterday on the beach swarm my head. Unease fills me when I think about him returning to work on Monday. Seeing him daily during his medical leave has been wonderful. I am going to miss the loss of his presence during the day. The laughter and afternoon talks while Evan naps. Luckily, I have a little Sweat Pea to occupy my day and preparations for our new arrival in the spring. The thought of Evan with a sister or brother is warming. It will be nice to have Ryan around more now that he is going to have another nephew or a niece.
“I love you, too.”
Oh, shit... Becca and Ryan!
“Do you think Becca and Ryan are having fun?” I ask making us both chuckle at her demanding tone before we sent her off to the Florida Keys for a long weekend. Little did she know, Ryan was her ‘plus one.’
“She better or we’re in a boatload of trouble when she returns.” Devon laughs.
My fingers run along his skin like a paint brush to a canvas. “Yeah, we’re definitely going to be in trouble. I do not know if anything is going on with her or Ryan, but they seem to get along well. At least we have that going for us.” I laugh nervously and hide my face in his side.
“It will be fine, Sugar Pants. I’ll keep you safe,” he teases flipping me onto my back just before he attacks my neck. “Hmm... I love this.” A fine line of kisses trail along my jaw up to my ear, “And this...” his hot breath in my ear has me wiggling under his spell just before he nibbles my earlobe as a moan erupts.
He cups my breasts through the thin nightgown separating us. Hips push into my core sending sparks igniting down to the pit of my stomach. An unconscious moan sounds. Fingers slide down my side quickly lifting the unwelcome fabric in a sense of urgency. Mouths crashing, we move like two tectonic plates impatient to blast the smoldering fireball within.
Attempts made to catch our breaths between k
isses are unsuccessful. The sensual act is too exquisite to slow. Limbs continue their helpless search to release the intensity. He grabs my panties ripping them away as I slide his shorts down just enough for my foot to finish the job of disposal.
“Lacey, what do you want?” he asks, in that sexy-ass gravelly voice that has me wanting to let go on the spot.
“You,” I pant, begging for a kick-start to freeing the desire building.
He slowly slides into my ache and I close my eyes welcoming the abrupt thickness. Just like always, we move in a current of heated passion until we are both seeing fireworks.
“Oh, that felt so fucking good,” he says rolling off to the side bringing me with him. Snuggled into his side, we try to tame our breaths.
“Hmhmm—” I concur. He kisses the top of my head and just before I fall asleep, I hear him whisper words of love to me.
Nine and a Half
“Lacey, do you remember when you told me you couldn’t break up with Caine and you had to stay with him? You and Becca were packing for your trip to Florida. I understand why you felt you couldn’t tell anyone. I wish you would have opened up to me sooner,” Lane finishes heaving a sigh.
“I know. I’m so sorry. I was scared everyone would hate me, and would think I was a tramp. You and Blake were this perfect couple and I was the messed up child. Getting pregnant at such a young age is proof of that. I was so jealous of what you and Blake had.” I press my lips together remembering how insignificant I felt. After everything with my uncle and now pregnant at nineteen years old, it didn’t feel as though I was ever going to get out on top like Lane.
“Are you serious? Lacey, you must’ve lost your ever-loving mind. I was jealous of you. You got your boobs before me. Remember when you had that bike accident and you were bleeding? I was pissed because I thought you got your period before me, too. Then I find out you are pregnant and getting married. You had the chance to experience all of those things first. I was the first-born and felt that it should have been me, like it was my right or something. I have been jealous of you!” She finishes with a sly smile. Her flushed cheeks tell me embarrassment is just under the surface.
“Yeah, look at me, Lane.” I wave my hand around. “I’m top notch jealousy material.” I smile trying to lighten her mood. She doesn’t understand the depths of how much I wished I were her. How I didn’t think I deserved what she had.
“Hey, want my swollen ankles? I’ll trade with you in a heartbeat, Little Miss Skinny!” I joke. She looks down at my feet and her eyes bug out. Brat!
“Damn, I didn’t realize how big they got.” Her sarcasm is thick in the air.
Giving her a pointed look, I reply, “Nice, real nice, Lane. Just twist the knife.” We both laugh and enjoy each other’s company.
It’s funny how individual journeys give a person a new dimension of reality. Lane and I have always been close, but with everything she and I have been through over the last few years, we are not only closer, we are stronger. We are true sisters.
“And even the very hairs on your head are all numbered.”
~Matthew 10:30
I will never tire of waking to Devon’s warm body spooning mine, but holy cow, sweat is beading from my pours and falling into a pool. Pregnancy hormones are driving me crazy. I throw off the covers needing fresh¸ cold air.
“You okay?” Devon groans behind me.
“Yeah, I’m just hot,” rolling out of bed, I realize the sheets are soaked from my sweat. Gross! My mouth immediately begs for moisture.
Blindly walking into the kitchen, the bright light assaults my eyes when I flip on the switch. My body has cooled, but now I am just dying for water. After drinking two full glasses, I fill up a third before I rest on the sofa. Besides the fact that I need to change my sweat-ridden sheets, I don’t want to disturb Devon going back to bed.
Seven-months is a fun time to be pregnant. I have a belly, but it is not too big. I have not had my god-awful periods for the last seven months and that is something to rejoice about.
It is hard to believe, in four short months I will be holding my baby. Our baby. I am really excited for all of us. Evan can’t wait to be a big brother. He talks to his brother or sister every morning and says goodnight with a kiss every evening. Devon is ready to begin painting and assembling the furniture in the baby’s room. His excitement is contagious.
Grandma Pain has decided to move in with us before the baby arrives. It’s best for everyone. Lane and I worry about her health. Not that she has anything wrong, but she is just getting up there in age and we do not want her alone if something were to happen. I am kind of hoping the living arrangements will be short-term and her newfound love, Mr. Walker, will be taking on that role. If it does not happen, fine. I just think it would be so nice for Grandma Pain to have that companionship. I do not want her gone, but I want her happy wherever that might be.
I wonder if the reason for my lack of being able to fall back asleep is due to being antsy about the appointment tomorrow. We have an ultrasound scheduled, and if the baby cooperates, we’ll know if we’re having a girl or a boy. I am horrible with surprises and will not even pretend to be somebody who is willing to wait. No, I want to know right away. Patience may be a virtue, but it’s not one of my most endearing qualities. Sweet dreams of Devon and two children running throughout a field full of wildflowers begin to overtake my senses and to send me into a blissful sleep.
Feather light kisses wake my exhausted body. “Good morning, Sweetheart.” Devon’s deep morning voice fills my ears.
“Good morning.” I yawn, squeezing my body in an internal stretch.
“Why are you sleeping on the sofa? Was I snoring too much?” he rubs, caressing my arm.
“What? Oh, no, honey,” I assure him. “I was drenched in sweat and need to wash the sheets. Plus, I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“We need to leave in about an hour. Would you like me to start the shower for you?” A devilish grin grows on his face lightening his eyes.
“Are you serious? We can’t do that just before going to the doctors! He will know! Gross, what if he can see…” He’s already begun planting kisses down my neck causing me to shudder and shake my head. “Devon…” his breath lingers in my ear as he tries to tell me the doctor will never know. The nibble on my ear has me almost giving up all self-control.
“Nope, nope, nope.” I try to push him away. “Not going to happen this morning, Devon.” I stand my ground.
He slumps his body between the back of the cushions and me. My lord, his body temperature is hot. “Are you sure Sugar Pants?” He asks gently pulling my hair aside from my face teasingly. Usually the simple act works, but not today.
“Yeppp,” I resound exaggerating the end with a pop sound. Devon surrenders all forward measure of some morning playfulness and instead, decides to tackle Evan. He’s much more reasonable with getting ready. We are taking him to see his brother or sister today, too.
Later, while sitting on cheap paper, the cold, sterile room has me rubbing my arms, trying to warm the goose bumps. Why do doctors think a flimsy piece of paper is going to stop germs? I am sure they do not bother wiping the table after the last patient. Oh, gross. You know stuff gets on the sides where the paper does not touch. Stop thinking about that, Lacey! Breathe. You needn’t worry about germs right now.
My peripheral vision catches Devon’s movements. “Do you need me to warm you up, Sugar Pants?” He wiggles his eyebrows at the hidden innuendo.
I stop moving to give him a pointed look. “Don’t you think I took care of you this morning?” Thankfully, Evan is too young to understand what we are talking about.
“Well, of course, but who says I can’t take care of you? Hmm?” He coos in my ears, sending shivers of a different kind down my spine. Placing a chaste kiss on my cheek, he adjusts Evan in his arms.
“Devon, cut that out,” I say curtly while trying to push him away. “The doctor—” Shit, shit, shit.
“Well, hello
there, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. How are we doing this morning?” The dark-haired older Dr. Thomas asks while I give Devon the stink eye.
In unison, I say, “Good,” while Devon enthusiastically says, “Great.” I roll my eyes at his hidden innuendo crap.
“Well, hello there, Mister.” The doctor holds out his hand to shake Evan’s hand. When Evan looks down at it, he immediately turns in Devon’s arms to hide, securing the wooden train between their two bodies. He’s becoming more and more timid with strangers, and I am absolutely fine with that. The doctor chuckles and pats Evan’s back. “That’s okay, buddy. I’m scared to look at myself, too.” We all exhale at the light exchange. “So, let’s have a look and see if the little munchkin here is going to cooperate.” He looks at my chart. “You’re twenty-eight weeks, four days, oh…” he pauses, and I know exactly what’s going through his mind, “your little one didn’t cooperate, did they?” He laughs. “Are you both certain you still want to know the sex of the baby?” The doctor kindly asks before proceeding.
“Yes,” we both agree smiling at one another. Evan has peeked out of Devon’s neck to see what’s going on.
“This is going to be a little cold.” I suck in a quick breath when the gel touches my skin. Really, a cold room and now cold gel? For heaven’s sake! “Let’s see here. There’s the spine. That is the heart. Hold on a second while I do some measurements,” the doctor states.
“Look, Evan!” Devon points to the screen. “That’s inside Mommy’s tummy.” Evan looks up, then at his train, and then back up at the screen. He appears unsure.
Moments later, the doctor moves the wand around. “And here, it looks like your baby is going to be a finger sucker.” Devon leans into the monitor with bright glossy eyes. Sure enough, our baby has two fingers in its mouth. A tear slides down my cheek without warning. Devon gently rubs the top of my head and leans down so that our cheeks touch with Evan still in his arms. We continue to stare at the screen together. “I love our baby, Lacey,” he whispers. Turning into Devon to kiss his cheek, the doctor distracts my thoughts. Devon stands and holds Evan tighter.