She picked up my hand and kissed it, sending butterflies fluttering around in my heart.
“I’m so glad your dream came true, because I had the same dream,” she said, holding out her arm.
I scooted over and nestled under her arm, enjoying the warmth of her body next to mine. It was all so new, being married, and yet it felt so completely right, as if we had always been together.
“Honey, let me talk with John alone, and see what I can find out,” I said. “If he’s still drinking, I don’t think there’s much we can do to help him other than encourage him to get help, like Jarod tried to do.”
“No, absolutely not!” she shouted. “Uh, I mean, I don’t think that’s a very good idea. If he’s drunk he could be dangerous and you could be hurt.”
“I’ve fought off drunks before,” I assured her. Granted, I didn’t tell her about the black eye I got when I did.
“I don’t care. I don’t want you anywhere near that man until we’re sure he’s sober.”
“I love the way you want to protect me,” I said, patting her thigh. “It feels so good to let someone else defend me for a while. But, honey, I really can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, Chris, but I can’t stand by and do nothing.”
“All right, then I’ll talk with his wife, Teresa, and try to find out if John is still drinking and if she’s being abused.”
Melinda nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like a good option.”
Grandmother for Hire — Norma Shelby and Kate Stana
“I’m so proud of you, and I love you too, honey,” I said, staring at my great-granddaughter through the computer monitor. Melinda had set up a computer in the corner of the family room, so that I could Skype with my grandson and great-grandchildren in Texas. I still marvel at how afraid of computers I used to be. Now, I just tap on the mouse and see my family 1500 miles away.
Just as I clicked off the computer, Kate walked in, carrying a bowl of grapes. “Taking a break, dear?” I asked, moving from the desk to the recliner.
“Yes, ma’am. I needed to get out of the office for a bit.”
I imagined that office could be stifling, it was so small. “Why don’t you use the computer over there for your work? It’s the same as the one in that tiny office you’re in, isn’t it? At least out here, you can breathe.”
“I’d like that, but Melinda said I could use the office, so I’d better do as she says,” Kate replied, and then popped a grape into her mouth.
I looked at her closely. She still had that young teenage aura about her, even though she was twenty years old. And where most young adults looked at things indifferently, she was very literal.
“I don’t think Melinda meant for you to stay confined to that office all day. I’m sure it was offered merely because it was an office, a quiet place for you to work. But I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t work out here when you wanted.”
“Really? You think it’d be all right?” she questioned.
“Of course, dear,” I assured her. “I would think that it doesn’t matter where you work, as long as you get the work done.”
“Thanks,” she said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Kate, do you like working for Melinda and Chris?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” she replied. “Very much so. They’ve been so wonderful to me, treating me with respect.”
Hearing the pride when she said respect, led me to believe that was something she yearned for. “And that’s something you don’t get much at home, is it, Kate?”
“No, ma’am,” she replied.
I knew there had to be more to the story, but I wasn’t going to pry. Well, not about that anyway. “Is it just you and your parents at home, Kate?”
“Yes, ma’am. I moved back in with my parents after everyone was evicted from my apartment building.”
“Oh, that’s right. Melinda told me you also lived in those apartments. I was in apartment 7C on the fifth floor.”
“You lived there, too?” she asked disbelievingly. “Wow, I didn’t know. I lived on the floor above you. But I don’t remember ever seeing you there.”
“You probably didn’t see me because I never came out of my apartment. Not until I met Chris and Melinda.”
“But you’re so outgoing and fun to be with,” she stated.
“Thank you, dear. I am also old and terribly afraid,” I divulged.
“Afraid? What are you afraid of, Norma?”
I leaned in and asked, “Can you keep it a secret?”
“Yes, ma’am. Better than anyone I know,” she replied sincerely.
“Everyone’s afraid of something, Kate, and I’m afraid of dying alone. But now, I live with two beautiful girls whom I care deeply for, and I have my family back. I can’t ask for anything more.”
“That’s so sweet, Norma,” she said.
“And what are you afraid of, Kate?”
She looked down at the bowl of grapes in her lap, and I believed that she was making the decision to trust me.
She looked back at me. “Norma, can you keep a secret?”
“Yes, better than anyone I know,” I said, winking at her.
She laughed. “Okay, well, my parents are probably going to get a divorce, and they’re fighting about me.”
“About you? I don’t understand, you’re an adult.”
“Yes, but they’re fighting over who gets stuck with me and the baby,” she said bitterly.
“Oh, my. I’m so sorry you feel that way,” I replied.
“I’ve felt that way since I was ten. You see, I’m adopted,” Kate explained. “My mother died when I was a baby. Then my step-mother adopted me after she married my father when I was nine. I think she only adopted me to please my father. Then he died when I was ten. She remarried a year later to a bastard of a man. Oh, excuse my language.”
Such a proper young woman, with such a heavy burden to carry. “Dear, I’ve dated a few bastards in my lifetime, and if your step-father is anything like they were, that word would be fitting.”
She nodded, pleased with my response. I could understand why she was afraid of the baby; she had no support at home, no encouragement.
“May I tell you a story, Kate?”
“Of course,” she replied.
“When I was just about your age, I ran off to Hollywood to become a movie star. I was an extra at first, and then I landed a supporting role in a movie. I fell in love and married the producer. He was a wonderful man, who encouraged and supported me, that is until I married him. It turned out that he wanted a wife to cook and clean and have his children. I never promised him any of that. At first, I thought that was what I wanted also, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t. I wanted to get back to my career, not have children I wasn’t prepared to care for. He had no more use for me, so he began criticizing everything I did, telling me I was a woman, and a woman’s place was in the kitchen.”
“What did you do, Norma?” Kate asked with wide-eyed curiosity.
“What any self-respecting woman would do. I told him to go fuck himself. I had quite the sailor’s mouth in my youth. Well, not only in my youth. My husband, the man that I had professed to love, was slowly taking away my self-esteem with each insult. I divorced him and the next year I starred in my first feature film. You see, I believed enough in myself that I refused to allow him to control me. I’m not saying that it was easy, going back out into the scary world, but I had a dream, and by God, I was going to live it. What’s your dream, child?”
She put down the grape and looked at me contemplatively. “Oh, um, well, before the baby, my only dream was to get out of that house. Now that I have the baby to think of, my dream is to give her a better life than I had, and unfortunately, that means staying with my adoptive mother for a while longer.”
“And how can you do that if you’re afraid to be around the child?” I asked bluntly, catching her off-guard.
“What?” she stammered. “I um, I don’t know.”
&nbs
p; She fought the tears welling up in her eyes, and I felt so sorry for her. I had an idea though, of how I could help her, but I needed to talk with Melinda and Chris first.
I took her hand. “It’s going to be all right, child. You have friends here, you are not alone.”
This time she didn’t fight her tears, and I handed her the tissue box sitting on the coffee table.
Afternoon Delight — Melinda Blackstone-Livingston and Chris Blackstone-Livingston
“I thought we were heading home?” Chris asked, when I turned the car toward the Mt. Sutro Open Space Reserve.
Mt. Sutro is a wilderness sanctuary in the heart of the city, with trails for hiking, or bird watching, or nature inspiring scenes of greenery.
“Feel like going hiking?” I asked, with an ulterior motive.
“Sure, but I don’t have my hiking boots with me,” she replied.
“Yes, you do. I put them in the back this morning. Along with a picnic that Konani prepared for us.”
“You planned all this without my knowing? What a nice surprise.”
“Well, it wasn’t planned as much as it was a spur of the moment inspiration. When you went to powder that adorable nose of yours, I ran into the kitchen and asked Konani to pack an ice chest with food, and while she did that, I ran to the closet and got your boots.”
“Aren’t you the sly little devil?” Chris laughed.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” I bragged.
We drove around until I found the parking lot and pulled up. Jumping out, I went to the back of the SUV, clicked the entry button on the remote, and waited for the liftgate to raise up. Then I picked up the backpack ice chest and slung it over my shoulders, while Chris changed her shoes.
“When on earth did you have time to go buy a backpack?” she asked.
“Charlotte, being the ever efficient butler that she is, asked me for a list of things I thought we might need, before we ever left Memphis,” I replied, adjusting the strap on my shoulder.
“She asked me too, but I didn’t even consider extracurricular activities,” she smirked.
Laughing, I said, “Well, you know where my mind was at.”
“Oh, yes, since the second time I met you,” she said, and bumped her shoulder against mine.
We traversed our way through the green carpeted woods and up and down several hills. I was trying to find a secluded place, off the beaten path, were we could be alone, but it wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Still, I found a hidden crevice under a clump of eucalyptus trees. I set the backpack down and looked around. The area was quiet except for the birds chirping in the trees. It was so quiet, in fact, that I could hear the flapping wings of hummingbirds nearby. It was the perfect spot.
I pulled out the picnic blanket and spread it out on the ground. Chris began pulling out the containers of food, and soon we had a banquet fit for a queen.
“Did you tell Konani what to pack?” she asked, opening the lid on one of the containers.
“No, I just told her we were going on a picnic. Why, what’s in there?”
She held out a container full of strawberries, and another container full of dark chocolate cubes. Thank you, Konani! Not that Chris or I needed an aphrodisiac, we were newlyweds after all. Still, it would be enticing to feed those succulent strawberries to my bride. I pulled out my cellphone and clicked on my playlist of love songs. I have had that list for years and the songs have never failed to set the mood.
Konani had also packed assorted cheeses, fruits, cold cuts, a half loaf of bread she had baked this morning, and a thermos full of non-alcoholic Sangria. As Chris would say, bless her heart. She knew exactly what I wanted.
We munched on the food and talked about Mooney. It wasn’t exactly the kind of romantic conversation I was hoping to have, but it was good to get some things worked out regarding him. Chris decided she would call his wife, Teresa, later, and set up a time to meet. I think Chris has some real reservations about the man, and talking with Teresa might satisfy them. I’m okay with that, as long as she doesn’t go alone. It wasn’t because Chris couldn’t take care of herself, it was just that I didn’t want to be separated from her for one second.
I was tired of eating, so I stretched out on the blanket and picked up a piece of chocolate. I reached up to Chris’s lips, and with one finger, pulled back her bottom lip. I placed the chocolate just inside her mouth. She wrapped her lips around my finger, and as I slowly pulled it out, her eyes rolled back in pleasure at tasting the dark chocolate. I selected a plump, juicy strawberry, and offered it to her lips, and she slowly, deliberately, took a bite of it, a drop of the fruit’s juices lingering on her chin. The sight of that sparkling drop of liquid set my loins on fire. I pulled her down to me and collected that tantalizing droplet with my tongue. Then I kissed her, deep and hard, and slid my hand under her blouse until I found what my clit motivated me to search for.
“You are so beautiful,” I growled, squeezing her breast until she arched her back. I love how her body so willingly surrenders to my touch. I kissed her again, stoking the fire so hot that she was wet with need.
Breathing heavily, she picked up a piece of chocolate, and with her thumb, pushed it inside my mouth. The chocolate melted instantly on my tongue, but I couldn’t swallow. My throat was choked with desire.
“I love you so much, Melinda. Make love to me.”
I pushed her blouse up and cupped both breasts, massaging the silky-soft skin until her tips were hard and hot.
“Oh, yes. Hurry, Melinda, please hurry,” she gasped.
I hurried, as much for me as for her. I was as close to an orgasm as she was, and I didn’t want to come before she did. I unzipped her jeans and slid my hand inside. She locked it in place with her thighs, and I teased her clitoris until her nerve endings bulged with blood. Her screams of release scared the birds from the trees, and just as they returned to the roost, my own orgasmic screams startled them out of the trees once again.
Chapter Eight
Do You Want Our Help or Not? — Chris Blackstone-Livingston, Melinda Blackstone-Livingston and Teresa Mooney
The next day, I called Teresa and introduced myself. We set up a lunch date at the Buena Vista Café on Fisherman’s Wharf. I tried to get Melinda to stay home, thinking that Teresa might talk more freely if she weren’t there because of the antagonistic way Teresa felt toward her. But Melinda didn’t want me going alone, after what we had learned about John. I kind of liked her being so protective of me, but I also wanted to protect her. So I suggested that she sit at a table where she could see us, and I made her promise not to interfere, no matter what she heard Teresa say. We needed to learn all we could about John so that we could figure out how to help him.
“Mrs. Mooney, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me. My name is Christine Blackstone-Livingston.”
Teresa was prematurely gray, although I don’t believe she was much older than I was. Her long hair was black, which made the gray stand out more, and her face was long and strained. Her dark brown eyes reminded me of Melinda’s eyes when she’s angry. Piercing and unrelenting.
“Please, call me Teresa,” she said.
“Thanks, and you can call me Chris,” I offered.
The waitress brought the menus and we looked over them for a moment as she pointed out the specials of the day. I ordered the tuna melt, and Teresa ordered the patty melt. The waitress wrote down our orders and left. I found it oddly distracting at the way Teresa was looking at the well-endowed waitress. Having been a waitress myself not too long ago, I recognized leering when I saw it.
Teresa looked at me curiously. “You said on the phone that you were helping Blackie. Are you her sister?”
“No, I’m her wife. We just got married last week, and—”
“Her wife?” She sat back and put her hand to her cheek. “Oh, no, are you one of those people?”
Instantly my temper boiled until my face flushed red. Those people, my ass. I looked at Melinda, who cou
ld hear the conversation from her table across from ours. She winked at me, and it calmed me. “Oh, no, are you one of those people?” I asked sarcastically.
“I’m a Christian, if that’s what you mean.” She said it like she belonged to an exclusive club.
“That’s funny, I’m a Christian, too,” I retorted.
“The Bible says that you’re an abomination,” she venomously responded.
God, please give me the words to keep from choking this bitch. Amen! “That old rhetoric again. Listen, Teresa, we have all sinned in the eyes of God. You’re sinning right now.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m a good Christian.”
“And so am I.”
“You can’t be a Christian, you’re a…” she leaned forward and whispered, “a lesbian.”
Melinda stood up and I knew she was about to join us. I looked at her and shook my head lightly, and she sat back down, but she wasn’t happy about it.
“Yes, I am a lesbian,” I said, returning my gaze to Teresa. “I’m also one of over eight million Christian homosexuals in the United States. You cannot deny me my Christianity because my faith is stronger than your ugly, misconceived words. You say that you’re a Christian, and yet you sit there persecuting me in the name of our Lord? According to the Bible, that is a sin. So how is it that your Christianity is any better than mine?”
“Oh,” she mumbled.
I could see she was actually processing what I had said. That or she’s searching for a Bible verse to prove me wrong. Well, bring it on sister. I can match you, verse for verse. My first real crush was on a girl who would soon become a novitiate, and I helped her memorize Bible verses. I didn’t realize at the time that she would leave me to marry Jesus.
“I, um...” She smoothed down her blouse and then pushed back her hair from her face. “So, what was it you wanted to see me about?” she asked pointedly.
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