The Odd Ballerz

by Ruthie Robinson

  “He also believed in land ownership, the larger the better, probably because the many wives required plenty of space. He owned about thirty-five acres of pristine land surrounding a lake in Colorado. It didn’t start out being a commune, but after the wife accumulation started, he began building homes for each of them and the offspring of those unions.”

  Memphis glanced at Z, whose face was back to blank, but he smiled when he caught her eyes on him.

  “Granddaddy Zach and his wives had fourteen children, six boys and eight girls, and we were raised with him on his land. After he died, their land and homes were placed in a trust for those of us that wanted to remain, that is, and then the grandchildren if they wanted. Seven houses turned to fourteen as the sons and daughters married and continued to live with their spouses, surrounding this gorgeous lake. We lived off the land. Fished and or hunted what we ate, grew the rest.”

  “We were one big family, all running around, free and happy,” Sonora said, gazing at her son. “I miss those times,” she said, reaching for his hand.

  “Z’s grandfather wasn’t much of an artist, but he liked his women to be a bit what we like to call free spirited, which somehow translated into artist of some ilk. As it turns out, his children grew up to be artists too. Jack and Wynona started Z into glass. Wynona’s one of my baby sisters by the way,” he said, smiling at Memphis. “It was mostly Wynona, wasn’t it that taught you?” Tim asked, his gaze on his son now.

  “Yes.”

  “Are the two of you artists?” Memphis asked.

  “Yes,” Tim said, smiling at his wife. “Me and Sonora paint, she’s much better at it than I’ll ever be. Cleo, the oldest of my brothers, sculpts wood that he finds on the property. Roger, the next to youngest brother, and Nick, his partner, paint landscapes. Ben, my baby brother, single now—wife number three left him last year—paints, mostly watercolors of his ex-wives,” Tim added, chuckling. Sonora laughed, along with Z, at a private joke that went with Tim’s story.

  “Harper is into pottery, and Jerry and Lila, his wife, are into jewelry making.”

  “That’s a big family,” Memphis said.

  “And we haven’t even touched on my other sisters and their offspring. Z grew up surrounded by lots and lots of cousins,” Tim said, smiling at his son again.

  “You live there still?” Memphis asked.

  “Yes, a few of us kids remained,” Tim said, grinning.

  “The rest moved away. Everyone tries to return in the spring for our annual two-week family gathering. Z will have to bring you then, so you can meet everybody. Jeremy’s wife is due with the baby soon,” Sonora said, her gaze on Z again, before turning it to Memphis. “Jeremy is Z’s younger brother. I was blessed with two sons.

  “Jeremy suffered from asthma growing up, and Z felt it his duty to parent him. He’d fit right into today’s world, where parenting is a verb,” Sonora said, laughing. “We didn’t do enough parenting is what he told us so often growing up. Such a serious one, not the best fit for our family, not at first. But we eventually brought him around. Dudley Do Right is what we nicknamed him.”

  “Not a bad childhood after all, son? Tim asked.

  “No, not bad at all,” Z said and smiled, another private communication, this one between father and son. A love existed between them and it was nice to see.

  #

  “Z, someone’s in your house,” Memphis said, sitting up in the bed. She checked the clock on the nightstand. Two-thirty, she read. Z was asleep, dead to the world, his normal sleep mode, she was learning.

  “Z,” she said again, poking his arm.

  “Um,” he said, lifting his head from his pillow, hair in tufts on his head.

  “Someone’s here, in your house. You should go see who it is.”

  “My parents probably,” he said, returning his head to the pillow again, his eyes closing just that quickly.

  “What if it’s not?” she whispered, watching as he continued to lie there motionless. She poked his arm again.

  “Z,” she said, watching as he rolled over this time, placed his feet on the floor, and was out of the door before she could stop him.

  “Wait!” she whispered into the empty room, not wanting to alert whoever was out there, but he’d left without clothes. She hopped up, searched around and found his t-shirt, slid it over her body, and thankfully it covered the important parts. She set out in search of him, following the sounds that were coming from the kitchen.

  “Memphis! There you are,” Sonora said, coming toward her, her arms outstretched in welcome, snagging Memphis’s hand, leading her further into the kitchen. Z wanted to laugh, she could tell, at her predicament, but he didn’t; rolled his eyes instead. None of them had on any clothes. Not a stitch to be found between the three of them. She didn’t know what she expected, but it had not been that.

  “I told you she wouldn’t run screaming from the house when she saw us,” Sonora said, smiling at Memphis, whose eyes were securely fastened on his mother’s face. “He wasn’t sure how you would take the nudist part of our family.”

  Memphis didn’t say anything in response, not sure what to say. All she knew was that there was no way she would look any place other than at his parents’ faces.

  Tim was standing in front of the refrigerator, a hunk of cheese in his hand. “I’m starving,” he said, chuckling. “It’s what I get from trying out a new weed strain. We didn’t mean to wake you.”

  Z looked over at Memphis and reached for her hand, removing it from his mother’s, who smiled at them both. His mother lived for these moments, making him uncomfortable, and nothing had changed about that.

  “Jones and I are going back to bed. Some of us have jobs to do in the morning,” he said over his shoulder, pulling Memphis along behind him.

  TWENTY

  “I told you. I learned long ago to roll over and go back to sleep at the sound of noises in the night,” he said, falling into bed, face down onto his stomach, arms stretched out wide. Used to sleeping alone, she guessed.

  “Your parents are… and you are…” Memphis said, finding a spot to sit in, just under his right arm.

  “Crazy, entertaining, funny, unique… fun?” he said, eyes still closed.

  “Nudist.”

  “That too,” he said, and she could hear the humor in his voice.

  “So that time, when we were playing that game, your questions, those were for real?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said, giving up on sleeping. He rolled over on to his back.

  “So you are a nudist?” she asked.

  “A naturist, is my preferred word, but yes, I am,” he said, watching her face. “It was the way I was raised. I used to be embarrassed by it, fought really hard against it during my middle and high school years. But now that I’m here, setting up my own place, I find that I’ve fallen back into to it, missed it, the sun on my skin and the freedom of it.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  He turned over onto his side. “What are we thinking here, Jones?” he asked.

  “You are similar to your grandfather?” she asked.

  “In some ways, yes,” he said.

  “In the having multiple wives way?”

  He laughed. “No, one wife is plenty enough for me.”

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, smiling at her, reading relief on her face, but no disgust.

  “That’s good,” she said. She continued sitting beside him, silently thinking. “What about kids, how would you raise them?” she asked.

  “It would depend.”

  “On what?”

  “How opposed to the idea my wife is,” he said, chuckling.

  “How much of a naturist were you?”

  “As a kid, it was all the time when we were home,” he said.

  “Oh,” she said again, quiet for a few minutes more. “So that one time I saw you swimming, you were nude then and that’s normal for you. And all the times since we started this, and you are without
clothes here, which I thought was…”

  “What? That I was happy to see you?”

  “Yes, that you were happy to see me.”

  “I was, yes, very much, but it was also my preference when I can, when I’m home. There’s nothing like it,” he said, and smiled, “Take it easy, Jones. We are a lot to take in at once. I’m a lot to take in at once,” he said, and smiled. He leaned over and kissed her quick, short and he was releasing her a few moments later.

  “This is what you meant by getting to know you?”

  “Yep,” he said, sitting up, and then he was lifting her shirt up and over her head.

  “Was that Brittany’s problem? The player last year, the one you thought you loved. She didn’t take your naturist tendency well?”

  “Nope. She had a really hard time with it, actually. ‘What do you mean you like to swim and do things in the buff?’ Called me a heathen, everything but a child of God. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Adam and Eve were the first naturists and we would have continued that way, maybe, if they hadn’t mucked everything up, listening to that snake.

  “Anyway,” he said, chuckling. “She tried to pull it all back, said she changed her mind, thought it through, I guess, decided she could live with it after all. Nope, it was too late. I can’t describe the way she looked at me the first time. There was no way she was walking that back and believe it or not, I get it. I’m not for everybody, the way I live is not for everyone, but it has to be okay with the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I can’t live with disgust.”

  “That couldn’t have been nice. If you loved her, that is.”

  “It wasn’t pleasant, no. It turned out to be good, however. Made me rethink everything. Made me take it all more seriously. What did I want in a wife really? How committed to being a naturist was I? Up until her, I partly wanted to distance myself from that part of my family. Lots of teasing as a kid, and then dyslexia; it was too much sometimes. That notwithstanding, my family is a huge deal for me, a big part of my life even now, and I’ve decided I like it that way. I want to keep it that way. They love me, come what may. It’s one of the things I like… love about you—your commitment to your sisters, and the fact that you’ve lived parts of your life on the outside. While painful it can be, there is nothing like it for strengthening you, and strength is what I need, what I want.”

  “What else do you want?”

  “Open to new people, places and things, to different; committed to the long haul, good or bad, thick and thin, the beauty inside the ugly. We will have it all.”

  “Did you say we?”

  “I did. I like you a lot, Jones, falling in love with you by the minute, but I needed this, needed for you to see my family first. It’s sort of a package deal and I’d understand if it’s not for you, really I would. I’d be hurt, but I’d understand.”

  “So are we taking marriage here?”

  He laughed. “Jones,” he said, smiling. “Yes.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “Yes, oh,” he said, pulling her in to kiss her again, and they stayed awhile, mouths locked together, hands holding each other close.

  “You’ve given this some thought, I see.”

  “Since last year. And after meeting you, it’s been nothing but thought,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Stuff comes at you a lot in life, you know this, Jones. It’s at the root of all those questions you ask of your dates. I think we are the same, you and I,” he said, watching her. He smiled. “Any more questions?”

  “Nope,” she said.

  “Good,” he said, pulling her down until her body covered his. A powerful look of lust was in his eyes. He flipped them over, before turning her once more, onto her stomach. “Beautiful,” he whispered before he kissed her back, moving down it until he reached her ass. It was quiet for a minute. The kisses had stopped, so she looked over her shoulder, and found him sitting back on his haunches, staring at her butt.

  She laughed. “What?” she asked.

  He smiled. “I really love your ass,” he said, meeting her gaze with a smile. “I like the shape of it and I can’t tell you why,” he said, moving softly over it, caressing each cheek, gripping it softly. “The way it overflows,” he said, leaning forward to touch his mouth to it, a kiss and then a much sharper nip. She jumped and he laughed and placed his feet on the floor. “Back up a bit,” he said, watching her do as he asked. “I could die a happy man, surrounded by all of this.”

  “Aren’t you sleepy?” she said on a sigh as he entered her.

  “Nope, now back up just a tad more,” he said, sucking in air as she moved to do his bidding.

  “I love it when I disappear inside you, love the way I feel when I’m inside,” he said softly, pulling his hips back. “Push back for me,” he said, watching her do as he asked again. He thrust again, hard, pushing her forward. “Now come back… yes… slower… yes… that’s… it,” and it went on like that for a while, her following his instructions, and she guessed at some point it wasn’t enough, ’cause he took over then, moving her hips up and back, fast, then faster.

  He was leaning over her now, his stomach to her back, his face at her neck, breathing hard, moving his right arm around her waist, using it to push her back to him, to take him into her body, over and over again. “M,” he moaned, and he was coming in hard, and holding on to her for dear life; he reached for her hands, and they fell forward, him on top still, his hips still pushing into hers and he came, bringing her along with him.

  “Love it,” he said when he could speak again.

  #

  Friday morning, four weeks later

  Someone’s alarm was beeping, Z thought, opening one eye. The sun was shining through his bedroom window, and there was someone lying on his chest. It was Jones, of course, doing her usual using-him-for-a-mattress thing. He opened his other eye, and was that a breast, near his mouth? It took him a while, but he smiled, as last night’s memories flooding his brain.

  It had been almost a month of him and Jones spending time together. Long, wicked nights of doing stuff to and with each other. Of evenings spent eating dinner with his parents, with her sisters and their families. Alex had healed and moved into Jones’s old family home, which was good, as Jones was hardly ever there anymore. Home had become here with him.

  She’d handled his parents well, hadn’t run screaming at the nudist part of his family’s life, which she encountered on the daily. Everything in stride was Jones, with a live-and-let-live compatibility he had only dreamed of. She was the one. He knew that without a doubt.

  The alarm was still making its loud-ass beep, and Jones’s breast was still in his face, near his face. So why the hell not, he thought, pulling it softly into his mouth. He had time; not much but enough. He didn’t think he could ever get enough of her breasts, soft brown globes and his for the taking. Her eyes popped open and she smiled.

  “I don’t know about you,” she said.

  “What don’t you know?” he said, before he moved over to the other breast.

  “You and me and this,” she said, wrapping her arms around his head as he moved her left breast into his mouth.

  “I do like sex; that you should know by now. With you, my appetite seems to be growing by leaps and bounds,” he said, looking up at her.

  “Is there a question in that?” she said, moaning now. His hand had moved down her waist and had settled itself in between her thighs.

  “Maybe,” he said.

  “Let’s talk about it later,” she said, closing her eyes, enjoying the turn this morning had taken. She had so gotten used to this: waking up beside him, to do this or sometimes to do nothing but lie beside each other. It wasn’t long before he was sliding her body down his torso, his hands on the outside of her thighs, spreading her legs wide as he did so, moving her closer and closer to his erection. He stopped when they reached the tip of him. He met her eyes again. “If you’re tired…” he said, lifting his hips so that his tip circled the ent
rance of her body.

  She laughed, and pushed her hips downward until he was embedded within. And that was it for a while; both of them lost in each other and the way it felt to be here, doing this, and the fact that their desire for each other had not ebbed at all made it all the more special.

  #

  Much later, Z set his feet on the floor. He was a mix of tired and energized with a lot on his plate today. Errands mostly is what he had to tend to, last-minute stuff and details for the opening tomorrow. He was going to meet up with Jones at her home later. The plan was to catch Gabe’s football game, and then it was back out here for a party with the rest of his family. Some had arrived already, but most were coming in later today. Hold on to your butt, Jones, he thought, at her meeting a huge chunk of the Sloan clan for the first time, but no longer worried anymore at her reaction. She was up for it; another thing he knew without a doubt.

  He glanced back at the bed, at the woman he’d loved like no other, and so looking forward to the future. Not so much as a change in breathing from Jones. She didn’t so much as peep, just continued on with that quiet snoring thing she had working. He smiled again, ran his hands through his hair, stretched, and made his way to the shower.

  #

  Memphis stood outside the door of Beans and Things, there for quick check in with Marisa, who was fast becoming a good friend.

  The speed of the last three weeks would go down in the record books as one of the fastest in her memory. A blur of work and Z’s, and running errands for Z, of meeting him at the shop, and of checking in with Alex, who was living in her home, their old home, now. Memphis spent more time at Z’s place, which worked out well for Alex as Aarik had moved into the position of boyfriend. Alex was happy, and so was she.

  She loved her life now; the sense of restlessness that she used to feel had evaporated. She loved Z and thought he did the same. It was almost a month of them spending time with his parents, of seeing them nude, they were almost always nude. A month of seeing him fit in with her sisters was further proof that he was the one for her. The opening was tomorrow. He and his dad had been working steadily, stocking his store, setting it up, the whole nine, and in a few minutes she and Marisa would make sure it was ready for tomorrow night. She smiled and went inside.