by Alison Cole
Taking the package, I read the instructions carefully and follow them to a "T." While I wait, I invite Marcus in to share the tension and nervousness with me.
He times the pregnancy test, peering at his watch, which has a second sweep hand. After the prescribed amount of time is up, we look at the results - I am definitely pregnant again! The line is a bright, strong blue.
"I'll call Gwen tomorrow before we leave for practice," I tell him. My words are slightly muffled, because Marcus is pressing me so tightly to him.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asks.
I pull away just slightly and repeat myself. "I'm going to call the midwife. Gwen. Make an appointment."
"Good. I just want to know that you are taking care of yourself straight through. We didn't know until after you hit four months that you were expecting Lizzie, so it's time to start taking care of yourself," he says.
"I must be only a few weeks along. I've only been feeling exhausted for a while now. Knock on wood that I won't have the same level of morning sickness I had before!"
"You know, I don't think it will be such a big problem for you this time round," Marcus says thoughtfully.
"Why?"
"We were in the United States during the summer. Heat got to you and made you dreadfully ill. It's summer here, but the heat is much less intense," he says.
"I hope you're right."
"About Millie," said Marcus hesitantly.
"Go on."
"You know what she'll say when she learns we're to become parents again."
"'Order a paternity test! The slut has struck again! That kid's not yours!'" I bellow. "Yes. Can we wait until we have to announce it to her? I'd like time to come up with some really snappy rebuttals to her hatred."
"I'm fine with that, and I'm glad you're able to exercise such a good sense of humor about it," Marcus says.
"If I didn't have that, Marcus, I'd be a quivering, weeping blob on the ground. I know I'm honest and faithful to you. You know that, as well. What else can I do? She's...forgive me, but she's a flamin' idiot."
Marcus sighs. "You know, seven years ago, I would have rallied against you for saying that. Now, I just agree with you."
My sleepiness overwhelms me at that point, so I brush my teeth, kiss Marcus and put on a light nightgown. Five minutes later, I am sound asleep.
One week later, I am at the midwife's, undergoing a physical.
"Oh, yes, Jo, you are most definitely expecting again! Are you getting plenty of rest, drinking lots of water and eating right?"
"Yes, yes and yes," I tell her with a grin. "This time around, I'm sleepy all the time. I get nausea, but, to date, haven't gotten sick. I try to keep food in my belly at all times - thus, lots of fruits, veggies, water, and ginger tea."
"Excellent. Good deal! Now, I estimate you are approximately seven weeks pregnant. Continue doing what you are and let's start seeing each other monthly. Let me know if you experience any troubling symptoms, such as bleeding or cramping."
"I will. Thank you!" Gwen and I hug before I leave. Marcus and Lizzie are waiting in the front of the clinic.
"Well?"
"Seven weeks, so Lizzie's going to be an older sister! I've got my marching orders. And now, practice," I say.
In line with what Marcus and I decided a week previous, we don't say anything to anyone. No sense in risking a leak to Millie. Instead, I alternate strong tea with water as I practice. The tea helps me stay awake and the water keeps my throat and vocal cords good and moist.
However, despite our best efforts, Millie does find out and the encounter is anything but pretty. Marcus, Lizzie and I are at home, playing outside and taking advantage of a warm, summer evening.
I turn my head in the direction of insistent honking.
"Marcus, you'd better see who that is. Our neighbors won't be very happy," I say. I suspect it's Millie, come round again without an invitation.
Marcus sighs and heads to the back gate. Clearly he also suspects his sister is the culprit.
I cock my ears and listen for voices. As soon as I hear Millie's distinct whine, I scoop Lizzie up and take her inside.
"Mummy! 'Side! P'ay 'side!" Lizzie protests.
"Luv, daddy is talking to someone. We both have to stay inside until he's done. When he comes in, we can go back outside," I promise her.
Lizzie looks at me, then accepts my decision. I put her down and direct her toward some of her toys. This distracts her for several minutes.
Marcus comes in and he is blowing steam! He's fuming!
"Mummy, p'ay 'side now?" Lizzie asks me.
"Lizzie, let's just wait a few minutes more. I want to make sure...someone is gone," Marcus says to Lizzie. We wait for several minutes and Lizzie looks up. She is picking up on the undercurrents and looking at us with worry in her expressive green eyes.
Oh, boy, this will be bad.
Finally, after several minutes, Marcus peers out through the kitchen window.
"She's gone. Jo, we're going outside. I'll get a tray of lemonade and some milk for Lizzie. We need to talk about what just happened," he says.
Lizzie takes several toys outside with her, overjoyed that she gets to be outside again.
I spread out a blanket, on which Marcus and I sit on as we sip our cold lemonade. We watch Lizzie as she enjoys playing.
"Okay, let's keep this quiet. I don't want Lizzie hearing. It was...ugly. She found out we're expecting another child and it became the screaming row you heard. She as much as ordered me to have a paternity test to prove that the baby is mine, Jo. She is stuck on the belief that you are loose, promiscuous and evil. I am so, so sorry!" Marcus voice quavers as he tries not to cry.
"Marcus, sweetheart, you cannot help what beliefs she has taken on. We need to confront her with her misconceptions and turn them on their face," I say.
"How do you mean?"
"Marcus, how best can we shut her trap? By doing what she's ordering you to do! Right? Then, when the results are in, we show them to her. She will have to get off that train and find another one to occupy her miserable mind. No matter that she has earned her advanced degree in ministry; no matter that she is married and back here in England, Marcus. She is unhappy and all she wants to do is make everyone around her just as bitter and angry. Lord knows I don't feel one scrap of sorrow or pity for her, but, it's sad that she's like this. I just have to wonder what kind of life Robert is leading. And how your mum and dad feel when she goes round their house for visits," I say.
This catches his attention. He takes a slow sip of his drink and thinks about everything. Several seconds later, he speaks.
"You know, you're right. If we get a paternity test, though, we are telling the specialist that this is only to shut 'someone' up. Then, as you say, once we have the results, we'll share them with Millie. I will be the one to tell her to stay the hell out of our lives once she knows I'm this baby's dad. And, you're right, she has to be absolutely, bottom-of-the-pit miserable. But we don't have to let her drag her down with us. And we aren't. Once we have told her about the paternity test results, I will tell her that she is not permitted to come round, to abuse you or to frighten our children. When we're at mum's and dad's, we'll be courteous and treat her with manners, but, as far as I am concerned, Johanna, she is no longer my sister."
"Good. It sounds like you have everything under control. We are not letting her ruin our lives. Lizzie and this new little one don't need to be ruined by her toxic attitudes."
Several minutes later, it is starting to get dark, so we gather Lizzie, her toys and our blanket and go inside. Marcus bathes Lizzie while I wash the glasses and get ready for bed.
In bed, I fall asleep almost right away. I will be so grateful when this early part of my pregnancy is over! I want to be at full-strength, with energy! This is truly the only thing about pregnancy that I do not like.
Marcus wakes me as he roams his hands over my body. As I stretch, one hand goes in between my legs and he begins playing wit
h my clit. The waves of sensation further wake me and I moan. I feel his mouth suckling my sensitive nipple through the light fabric of my gown and I nearly leap off the bed.
In response, I tunnel my hand under the waistband of his boxers and begin playing with his stiff shaft.
"Let's do something different. I'm going to sit up and put you on my lap, facing me," Marcus says.
"Ooooh, I like that idea! I'm good for it!" I say.
We pull our nightclothes off - Marcus is wearing a T-shirt with his boxers and I make short work of both. I get out of bed and walk around to the other side, climbing onto Marcus's lap, straddling his legs. I wrap both hands around his cock, playing with it and running my fingers over the sensitive glans. Before anything else, I slap his leg lightly, then, I feel his cock jerk in my hand.
Marcus' body jerks all over and he groans deep in his throat. He places his hands under my arms and lifts me bodily off his thighs, then lowers me so he impales me, sliding deep into my pussy. Once he's fully inside me, he slaps me on my ass and I feel the impact all the way into my pussy, which contracts around him.
I wrap my arms and legs around him, wiggling until I am able to move freely. In truth, he's going to be able to move a little more easily. We continue giving each other slaps that are just enough to send sensation to the most sensitive areas of our bodies.
We begin moving in concert with each other - as Marcus moves the tip of his shaft past my G-spot, I feel hot waves of sensation pushing me closer and closer to an intense and hot orgasm.
"Uh, oh! That feels so good, luv! Keep moving just...just..." I am no longer able to talk. My orgasm sweeps over me like a tsunami of sensation and my pussy begins to contract strongly around Marcus's dick.
As I stiffen on Marcus' lap, he brings his hands back to my underarms, lifting and lowering me. This extends my orgasm even longer and, as his shaft feels my contractions, he comes, roaring as he does so.
We sit there, breathless and coming back to ourselves. Soon, I have to move - my legs are beginning to stiffen, so Marcus helps me back up so I can stand. Linking our hands together, we walk to the bathroom.
After we clean up, we get back into bed and cuddle. I am still very sleepy, so as soon as I pillow my head on Marcus's shoulder, I am asleep within seconds.
Marcus, Lizzie and I are at practice the next day. I am very surprised when someone knocks insistently at the front door.
Tim sets his guitar down on its stand and answers the door, ready to send away an insistent salesperson.
"I'm Millie Smythe, Johanna Hadley's sister-in-law. I'm very curious about her work with you..." She edges her way in past Tim. As she moves past him, I see her eyeing his long hair, neatly held back in a ponytail. Her eyes range over to Linny, whose hair is similarly caught up in a ponytail band. Next she looks at Laslow, who barely acknowledges her.
I look at Marcus, stunned. He's just as surprised as I am. He scoops Lizzie up in her arms as she runs to her daddy, whimpering.
I scoot over to Tim and apologize immediately.
"No problem. you didn't know she would be coming round. Boys...let's talk for a minute. Mrs. Smythe, if you wouldn't mind..."
"Oh, go right ahead," Millie said, searching for a chair. She spots my comfy chair and squats down into it.
The boys and I confer at the other end of the long room.
"Guys, I'm sorry! I didn't expect her to do this! She's likely just checking to see what I'll do in the presence of you lot," I say.
Laslow lets out a sardonic laugh that sounds almost like a bark. "You've figured her out, have you?"
I give him a sympathetic look and smile.
"Let's get to it!"
Back in our places, I wait for Tim's signal. The boys begin playing the first song on our list. I wait for my cue, then begin singing lyrics about a girl who committed suicide. I forget all about Millie, sitting in my chair like a squat frog. Instead, I am immersed in my music, listening to what the boys are playing and focusing on the quality of my singing.
"Excellent! Very good! Johanna, you were just a little hesitant on the bridge. Shall we work on that again?"
"Yes. From measure 121, please."
Picking up on that measure, we go over the bridge lyrics until I am able to come in strong and exactly on time every time.
I pull out my music for our next song. I look at Lizzie, still ensconced on Marcus' lap. He's typing with his arms posed around Lizzie's body.
Lizzie shoots apprehensive looks at Millie - after what she said about me, I will never consider her to be the auntie of my children! Ever! Occasionally, she whines about Millie being there.
"I know, luv. Just stay in my lap and you'll be fine," Marcus says quietly as he writes.
Eventually, however, Lizzie's whines became too much for all of us.
"Lizzie, sweetheart, the band and mummy are practicing. Let's go to the little office, shall we?" He closes his computer and puts his research on top of it. Taking Lizzie's hand, he walks her to the office, where he and Lizzie settle. Before he shuts the door, he trots out and gathers several of Lizzie's toys.
I look at Millie from the side of my eye. Aside from looking bored, she looks offended that Lizzie has refused to come to her and acknowledge her presence. Hmmm, I wonder why?
We begin working on other songs. We ignore Millie's presence, wanting only to perfect our performance on each piece.
Millie grows progressively bored and we hear her emitting loud, gusty sighs. I think she came to see me acting in a promiscuously, coming on to the boys in the band and having lewd sex with them right there on the practice floor! When it doesn't happen, she grows disappointed. Finally, she gathers her large handbag and, without acknowledging any of us, she leaves the studio with a dissatisfied look on her face. Good riddance, I think.
Chapter 24
Two weeks later at the end of a long day of practice, I announce my pregnancy to the band. Everyone is excited, and they congratulate Marcus and me. Lizzie claps, not understanding the importance of the moment, so Marcus swoops her up into his arms and tells her she is going to be a big sister.
Marcus takes us home right after and we eat dinner, relax outside, and then take Lizzie inside for her nightly bath.
The next morning, we are just about to leave for the studio when the house phone rings. Marcus runs to get it.
"What is she doing? Oh, my God, Tim, tell me you are kidding! Yeah, I'll tell her. We'll be there presently. Thanks for the call."
I buckle Lizzie into her car seat.
"What? What was that about? It doesn't sound good, I'll tell you that," I tell him.
"No. No, it isn't. My lovely, not-so-beloved sister is at it again. Remember those groups with which she was affiliated in the United States?"
"Oh, my God, no! This isn't good. What is she up to?" I ask him.
Marcus clasps the bridge of his nose in between his thumb, forefinger and center finger. He sighs.
"This is bad, Jo. Remember that day a few weeks ago, when Millie dropped by the studio and listened to your practice?"
"Yeah. What of it?"
"'What of it.' She and her church have begun to circulate a petition throughout all of Saint Alban seeing to disband the band."
I hear the news and it feels like a solid punch to my gut. I inhale in shock and bend nearly double.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa there, luv. Given that The Lonely Lovers are such a positive group and that you have contributed to the tax base, it's not likely that she or her minions will succeed," he tells me.
I think about what Marcus has just said. It's true that we are a positive group - no high jinks here! No illicit drug or alcohol use either, notwithstanding the boys' long hair and my purple-dyed ends. We contribute a significant amount to the tax base of Saint Albans - and the city know that. As I think about all this, I get right pissed off. Looking at Marcus, I see he's at least as pissed off as I am, if not more.
"Let me tell Tim," he asks me. "I have an idea in mind."
> "What?"
"We'll talk at the studio. I want to go over my idea and see if it's workable," Marcus says.
Several minutes later, we pile out of the car and I walk in, holding Lizzie's hand. Marcus is right behind.
"Oy, Tim, call the Saint Albans mayor and get him here to watch you lot practice."
"What? Why?" Tim asks.
Marcus explains the phone call about Millie's church group and their petition.
Laslow gets visibly angry, his face flushing.
"That narrow-minded bitch! I don't care if she's my sister, she's gone too far this time. We have to fight back."
"Laslow that's what I've been thinking about. That's why I asked Tim to call the mayor and get him here. I want him to watch you lot practicing. I'm thinking The Lonely Lovers can offer a free concert on the city green. Anyone who wish to attend and listen, get in free of charge. But...we have to do it before the weather turns dreary, cold and nasty," Marcus says.
I like this! It's good! It shows the group in a good light and, putting on a free concert, we allow locals to see that we are fully citizens of Saint Albans.
"Marcus, this is a master stroke! I think your sister showed up to see if she could get ammunition against the band. Which we didn't give her." Tim lopes off and calls the mayor's office, inviting him to come to the studio.
"Please tell His Honor that it is vitally important to Saint Albans and to The Lonely Lovers. Thank you."
Thirty minutes later, the mayor strides in, confused.
"What is going on? My secretary just told me that you wanted me to come down and listen to you..."
Marcus walks up to him and quickly explains the situation.
"Sir, my sister is the new reverend at the Conservative church on the north side of Saint Albans. She came in here two weeks ago and watched the group practice. She...is difficult to get along with - has some very unusual beliefs. She and her church have begun a petition to get the band disbanded by the city of Saint Albans.
"I brought my wife and daughter here..." here, he indicates both Lizzie and me. "My idea is to have The Lonely Lovers put on a free concert on the city green before the end of summer. Free of charge to any who wish to come and listen. The Lonely Lovers are a very positive band and they perform music that celebrates the best of humanity. In addition to that, the band contribute a significant amount in tax revenues to Saint Albans, which I believe you would not be happy to lose."