by Denise Avery
“You like it then?” Parker asked. “I thought it was a nice touch.”
“Like it? I love it, all of it. This couldn’t possibly be more perfect.” Claire said running to Parker and throwing his arms around his neck. “I hope you have some Don Draper suits hanging around here also?”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Parker winked. “I’m not about to let you role play all by yourself.”
“Is that what we’re doing?” Claire asked. “Role playing?”
“Well what would you call it?”
“God, I don’t know... God Parker how do you do it? Who facilitates an across-country era-leaping immersive-role-play honeymoon for his new wife? I swear sometimes I think that I’ve dreamed you up.”
“I just understand you.” Parker smiled. “Some girls go all British Romance On-the-Moors, some would dig the classic Professor Type Liaison, but you’re something a little odder aren’t you? I don’t think we’ve even scratched the surface of what that imagination of yours is capable of.”
“You may be right.” Claire said.
A sudden knock on the door jolted them out of their giddiness. Parker threw on his shirt and made his way to the door, after wrenching it open he let out a short barking laugh.
“Oh, come on.” Savannah said from the pavement. “We couldn’t let you guys go without seeing you off, Christopher would have been way too upset.”
Claire’s best friend bounded on board dragging Parker’s son Christopher behind her. Her eyes struggled to take in everything she saw from the antique decor to her friend’s killer dress and sexed up hair. The best that Savannah could do was laugh.
“I don’t know what the hell you two get up to.” She said. “But good for you?”
“What do you mean?” Christopher asked furrowing his eyebrows at Savannah. She had agreed to babysit the boy for a while so that the honeymoon could go off without a hitch. This arrangement had of course hinged on the condition that Savannah would be allowed to thoroughly lick, suckle and fuck her best friend while Parker watched. The whole thing had turned out to be a win-win-win situation. Maybe even a long-term arrangement?
“Nevermind.” Savannah said to the boy resting a finger on his nose.
Christopher brushed away the touch not knowing quite what to make of Savannah. Frisky though she was Claire trusted Savannah implicitly with her new step son. She was a tough cookie, and knew how to deal with any crisis. It was because of Savannah that Claire had had the courage to hook up with Parker in the first place. The new couple owed quite a lot to Savannah; maybe she could be the godmother of their first child?
Claire surprised herself, she’d never once thought of children with Parker while all of this was going on. She’d felt like a child herself within the context of their relationship, so imagining herself as a mother was beyond her comprehension. She looked at Christopher, an upstanding and adorable little boy, and wondered what it would be like to be more than a step mother.
What the hell? Claire thought suddenly feeling lightheaded. Is this what it feels like when your biological clock gets switched on? She rested her eyes on Parker, and instantly understood what was happening. This was the man that she was going to spend the rest of her life with. What they shared crossed all boundaries she had ever conceived, in terms of love and romance. She wanted to be close to him in a way she had never been with anyone before. And that, she realized, meant making a baby with him.
“Hello? Claire?” Savannah said waving her hand in front of her friend’s eyes. “Are you alive in there?”
“Huh? Sorry, daydreaming.”
“I bet you were.” Savannah said winking at Parker. “Anyway, we just wanted to bid you farewell. Write us tons of postcards will you?”
“And souvenirs.” Christopher suggested not for the first time. “Bring back lots and lots of souvenirs.”
Parker chuckled warmly and embraced his son. Claire watched him while feeling in her gut how wonderful a father he was to his son. She couldn’t wait to give him more children, a whole yard full? Savannah raised an eyebrow as she saw Claire with a dreamy expression and looking broody. We’ll talk about that later.
“Come on Chris.” Savannah chirped. “Claire and Daddy need to hit the road, and we need to get you drunk and stoned by noon or the day won’t really be worth it.”
“Is that funny?” Christopher asked as Savannah pulled him out the door. The hatch hissed closed behind them and Claire met Parker’s gaze warmly.
“What is it?” He asked.
“Oh... Nothing.” She lied shifting from foot to foot.
“Come on you know you can’t hide anything from me.”
“Ugh, I know and it’s so annoying.”
“Tell me what’s on your mind, baby”
“Promise you won’t be freaked out?”
“Of course I won’t.” He insisted.
“Ok...” Claire began. “I was just... I was just watching you with Christopher, and thinking you’re such an awesome dad to him. And then I thought about what it would be like if... you know... if we had kids of our own one day.”
“Huh...” Parker said.
“I mean, not like there’s any rush or anything.”
“But... You’re still so young.”
“Not that young. In cave man times, I’d have twenty kids by now.”
“That’s true.”
“Should we should role play cavemen next?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Parker said holding Claire’s hands. “Are you really serious? Do you really want to have my children?”
“Of course, more than anything.”
“Oh, Claire...” Parker said pulling her against him. “I’m so glad.”
“Parker...” Claire cooed. “It’s going to be amazing, however, let’s not start right this instant ok? If we get held up any longer we’ll never make it to the road before rush hour.”
Parker laughed and gave her a kiss on the forehead. They settled into the cockpit ready to set off into America and the next stage of their lives together.
* * * * *
Chapter 9
* * * * *
The smell of bacon roused Claire after her deep sex coma of a slumber. It was a testament to her adoration of all things breakfast related that she was able to lift her foggy head from the pillow. As had happened every morning for the past three weeks Claire’s heart skipped a beat trying to remember where she was. The wood-paneled 1960s-themed trailer her husband had purchased for their honeymoon was home during the day, but it still took a moment every morning adjusting to her fantastical circumstances.
She rolled lazily onto her back trying to recall which state they were in on this leg of the journey. They’d started in New York after the fuck fest of their wedding night (which, to be fair, extended far into the morning after) and set off across the country. The first stop had been the Appalachian Trail where they’d gotten nasty overlooking the rolling hills of West Virginia. Then they’d rolled on down to New Orleans for some bayou nookie. From there it was a breeze through a few states before hitting the Grand Canyon and Vegas, picking up knick knacks in Scottsdale, Arizona. ‘That’s puts us.’... Claire tried to remember. ‘Aha, in Montana.’
Claire peered through the bedroom window pleased she had finally remembered where they were in this whirlwind scenario. Although she’d grown up on the East Coast Claire had always pictured moving out to Montana someday. There was something about clear air, farms and huckleberry stands that she treasured. Maybe she’d get sick of cowboy boots and ATVs if she moved out here permanently, but this visit made her pleased as pie.
For perhaps the eight billionth time since meeting him Claire wondered how in the world she had gotten here. At twenty-two she had been living in a disgustingly cramped apartment with a twenty something man who acted like a twelve year-old boy. She was up to her ears in Netflix and student loan payments while working in a cupcake shop making seven dollars an hour. Strapping on exaggerated high heels for ladies night with gir
ls she barely liked to soak up booze, and a blow-out brunch the following day. She had been hopelessly struggling and jaded, so how had it come to this? Careering around the woods of Montana in a billionaires fashionable fuck pad on wheels? Dressed in a vintage nightgown lolling around in bed while her hunk/stud of a husband made her breakfast? Who did she think she was taking it all for granted without giving a damn thing back to the world, apart from the odd decent photo and excellent ‘Bloody-Mary’ recipe?
In that moment Claire caught a glimpse of herself as if looking on from outside her body. She saw what the women at Parker’s company, his family and the people she’d known in school must think. They must imagine her as the most disgusting, duplicitous, gold digging home wrecker to ever walk to earth. For fuck’s sake Parker was married when they hooked up for the first time. Granted, his wife was an evil bitch from hell, but did that matter? And what about their son Christopher, how would it affect him? What the hell was he supposed to tell his friends when a girl young enough to be his big sister picked him up after soccer practice?
“Well, fuck...” Claire whispered staring blankly at the breathtaking Montana landscape. “What am I going to do?” Parker poked his head into the bedroom, he was wearing a plush bathrobe and carrying a spatula like it was a tennis racket. Claire could not bring herself to look at him for more than an instant.
“Breakfast’s almost ready. You slept forever, must have been knocked out after last night, huh? Was the blindfold too much with the candle wax? I thought like we might have been...” he trailed off when Claire’s shoulders began to shake.
“Sorry,” she sniffled tearing past him into the kitchen. “Let me help you with the dishes and stuff, let me do something.”
Parker watched dumbfounded, as Claire rushed around the kitchen plating the food he had prepared and rolling up the sleeves of her nightgown up to begin washing the pots and pans.
“That can wait, baby.” Parker said. “And... You know we have a dishwasher right?”
“I know that.” Claire cried unable to speak without revealing the quiver in her voice. “I just... I want to do them myself. I have to be able to do stuff myself.”
“What is this about?” Parker asked laying his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged them off violently.
“What, am I not allowed to be a little upset?” Claire asked with tears beginning to stream down her face. “Am I not allowed to be a little bit... overwhelmed by all of this?”
“Overwhelmed? What’s that about?” Parker asked. Claire let out a bark of a laugh and tossed a frying pan into the sink.
“What this is about is nothing less than absolutely unequivocally overwhelming? “For fuck’s sake, what is this place? Who else in the entire fucking world gets a man to spend his time building her custom sex playgrounds huh? Who else manages to wrangle some Billionaire playboy into making her his child bride, so she won’t ever have a worry in the world? Who the fuck is that? That can’t be me; I’m not the person Parker.”
“Hey, hey.” Parker said, his brow becoming stormy as she raved. “First of all this playboy, child bride talk is absolute bullshit. That’s not our story and you know it; I’m shocked that you would let that nonsense get to you.”
“How could I not let it get to me Parker?” Claire asked hurt by his harsh words. “That’s what the entire world thinks of us, don’t you see that? To everyone else you’re just some pervert with a thing for college girls, and I’m some home wrecking slut with dollar signs shimmering in her eyes.”
“And do you think that’s the truth?” Parker asked his voice steely.
“I...” Claire sputtered. “I don’t know anymore, how am I supposed to know?”
“I think you’d be able to look into your own heart and know how in a second.” Parker said. “That’s what I do; do you think I would have fallen in love with you if I’d met you drunk at a college town karaoke bar? Shit, I had no idea how young you actually were. To be honest I considered staying away for that very reason. But I couldn’t Claire, because from the minute I met you I knew that every second I stayed away would be a lie. I guess I always thought that you felt the same way.”
“Parker.” Claire said taking his hands in hers. “Please don’t be angry, can’t you see why I’m confused? Don’t you understand there is no one else in the world I can talk to about what I am going through?”
“What about me?” He asked.
“You had an entire life before we met; went through school, dated, had a bunch of jobs, slept with lots of women. You built an incredible business, married and had Christopher. This is like a bonus round for you. You have all the power in the world and have no one to answer to. Shit Parker I haven’t done anything; I dragged my ass to college and snapping a few pictures along the way. This is my one life, but now that you’re here it all belongs to you!”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Parker said coldly.
“You own me, Parker.” Claire said knowing how mean she sounded, “My entire life, my entire livelihood, depends solely on you. So what am I supposed to spend the rest of my twenties doing? Is the rest of my goddamn life hanging around pools, never developing as a human being or ever working for anything? What is that going to do for me huh? Who the fuck am I going to be?”
“Oh, give me a break.” Parker spat. "What do you mean ‘who am I going to be’? What is this an after school special? Jesus, act your age.”
Claire stared at him and felt the room spinning around her. After all that, after her grand statement of how scared, helpless and lonely she felt after such a whirlwind adventure, was that the best he could do? Not even an empty gesture of meeting her half way? Yes, Parker had always been the dominant player in their relationship, especially sexually, but did that dynamic mean she had forfeited her rights in all areas of their life together? Did he, at the end of the day, even consider her his equal?
This torrent of doubt flooded Claire’s vision as she fumbled blindly through the trailer. Somehow, she managed to get herself into clothes that would be suitable outdoors. She knew Parker was shouting at her, trying to keep her from leaving, but the shock of his inconsideration had left her reeling. She had closed herself to him, unable to imagine when and how they had been so close. God, they had been so close, had it all been smoke and mirrors? Had their entire affair been just that and nothing substantial at all?
A blast of fresh air hit the back of Claire’s throat as she stumbled out of the trailer. Her footing was shaky on the gravelly path, and she felt her knees scrape along the ground. Not pausing to humor Parker’s demands for her to stay and talk, she picked herself up and set off. She had no idea where she was going, no map, no phone and no money. All she knew was that she needed to be out of that stuffy trailer, and away from the charade that she had wandered into.
How could she have imagined that this circus was real? How could she have been so deluded to think something like that could happen to a girl like her? She was skin, bones, and fat wandering around the globe like everyone else. She wasn’t living in a fucking fairy tale; she didn’t get to be rescued. Fuck it; she didn’t want to be rescued. She didn’t want to own or be owned by some man the rest of her entire life having special privileges. Until meeting Parker she’d been working like hell making her own way, scraping by when she had to, she missed the person she was then.
“I want to go back...” Claire said softly, her words scattering through the trees reaching no one in particular. “I want to go back, I want to go back.” It was like a new mantra, and nothing else occurred in her shocked and overwhelmed mind. Hazily, she paused for a moment and looked around. The thick forest spread out around her on all sides; the trailer was nowhere in sight and neither was Parker. Claire felt the dry tears on her cheeks, ran a hand through her tangled hair, and sank slowly to the forest floor. For the second time that day she was left muttering to herself the two words that made most sense.
“Well, fuck...”
There had been some wisdom about moss that
she’d gleaned at Girl Scout camp, hadn’t there? Something about where on the tree it grew? Or was that just something she’d picked up from a movie? Whatever the case, one thing was entirely certain: Claire was utterly lost.
She picked her way through the patches of thick underbrush, wincing as thorns torn at her legs, and errant branches jabbed her sides. Why hadn’t she been lucid enough to put on some long durable jeans, and maybe a goddamn inner tube? For God’s sake, she hadn’t even remembered a sweat shirt. She couldn’t help worrying what would become of her once the sun had set. Claire was a suburban sprawl girl through and through, raised in a prefab monstrosity before moving to New York. She couldn’t tell poison ivy from pot or a puma from a tabby cat.
What time was it, even? Claire cast about for a hint, maybe a shadow or glaring sun? But nothing, the forest was unforgiving. It wasn’t about to give Claire any hints, novice that she was. She wished she’d paid more attention to their route as they’d made their way, but as ever she’d let Parker make all the calls. She thought bitterly back to their argument earlier; she’d spent almost all day tearing through the forest, cataloguing more evidence for her case. She had reached the point where she not only thought she was right; she knew it with absolute certainty.
Parker had controlled every aspect of Claire’s life since they’d consummated their scandalous lust those few months ago. Parker was the one who’d facilitated not only their initial fucking, but the terms of their fucking. He’d set the precedent for his own dominance and her submission. Sure, he’d let her have a couple of tries at playing the dominatrix, but none of it was honest. Even when she’d been the one on top they were still on his turf. Parker the billionaire, king of his own little world had been her puppet master all along.
How could she have been so blind? From the time he had picked her out of the herd, every decision had been his. He’d decided to make her his wife, what their wedding would be like, not to mention their honeymoon. It had been much more than a choice of what color wedding cake to have. Trudging through the wilderness of Montana it occurred to her Parker probably didn’t consider her to be on his level. From where she was standing it seemed she had only ever been at his disposal. He’d been using her as a place holder, an escape, a vessel.