by Merry Farmer
Chris laughed out loud. “Mom, I can assure you that Chastity and I are not into kinky sex.” Of course, that was because they weren’t having any kind of sex in the first place. Although he wouldn’t completely rule out the idea of handcuffs…or being tied up…or trying out a few interesting toys. He’d seen this one shaped like a dolphin that was inserted into—
“Ahem. Christopher, there are children in the other room.”
Chris blinked off of the path his imagination had started him down. His mom could read him too well. He cleared his throat and adjusted his trousers, hoping they didn’t look as tight as they felt. “Here, Mom, let me give you a hand with that.”
Half an hour later, Mr. Pickley-Wickley was on his best behavior once more. Not everyone else was though.
“I want the green,” one of the kids, a four-year-old named Billy, declared, reaching across the table.
Instantly, green paint spilled everywhere. Billy drew back with a look of terror in his eyes as rivulets of green dripped off the table. One sticky stream dripped onto Myrna’s skirt.
“You stupid kid,” Denise shouted, jumping forward. “I have to wash that. What kind of idiot parents do you have?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Myrna kept calm, reaching for a wad of paper towels and dabbing at her skirt. “It’s washable paint.”
Billy burst into tears anyhow. Denise continued to glare at him, but Chastity zipped around the corner of the table to hug the little boy.
“Uh oh,” she said with a sing-song smile. “Looks like we made a mess. What do we do with messes?”
Billy sniffled, bottom lip pouting, and glanced up at Chastity with round, confused eyes. “We clean it up?”
“Right.” Chastity rewarded him with a bright smile. “So let’s hop up here and give Mrs. B. a hand getting her skirt clean.” She lifted the boy onto the chair beside Myrna.
“I’m sorry,” Billy said in a tiny voice.
“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Myrna said. “Here, I’ll help you.”
Chris held back through the entire scene, pride filling his chest. It was a good thing they’d put a generous amount of newspaper down on the table. It was still probably soaked through, but as long as everyone kept calm and mopped up the mess before it got out of control, the kids continued to smile.
“Ugh, I don’t know what you see in her,” Denise muttered, taking up a position by Chris’s side. “She probably just ruined your mom’s nice table.”
Chris raised his brow and looked at Denise. “She’s good with kids.”
Denise narrowed her eyes.
“No, I take that back,” Chris corrected. “She’s good with people.”
“Yeah, I bet she is.” Denise put so much innuendo into the comment that even Chris couldn’t miss what she was getting at.
The urge to make a crack about Denise getting pregnant in high school was almost too good to resist, but resist it he did. He stepped away from Denise and her cloud of doom.
“You guys need help with that?” he asked Myrna.
“We might be able to use a few more paper towels.”
“I’m on it.”
Chris rushed into the kitchen and came back with a handful of damp paper towels. But by that point, Chastity had spread new newspaper on the green spot, Billy had shifted to the farthest part of the table from Denise, and Myrna had gone back to helping a tiny little girl paint flowers on her picture.
“Flowers are pretty,” the little girl told Myrna.
“They sure are.” Myrna smiled as though she was having the time of her life.
“You’re pretty too.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
Chris’s chest squeezed tight at the interaction.
“I can make you even prettier,” the little girl said, and painted a dollop of yellow on Myrna’s arm. “It’s a flower. I can make a whole garden.”
She began painting yellow dots all over Myrna’s arm as Myrna laughed and beamed.
That lasted for about three seconds before Denise noticed.
“What are you doing?” She launched herself at Myrna and the little girl, grabbing the paintbrush and yanking it out of the girl’s hand.
The little girl burst into tears, and Chris swooped in.
“Leave it alone, Denise. It’s just paint.” He took the paintbrush out of Denise’s hand and tried to give it back to the girl, but at that point the girl was wailing, with her head buried against Myrna’s side.
“Denise, darling, try not to be a sour toad, please,” Myrna said with gentle censure.
“I’m looking out for you,” Denise snapped. “You don’t want some stupid kid painting all over you.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Ooh, I want someone to paint on me,” Chastity cut in. I’ve got the perfect spot for a painting right here, see?” She brushed aside a few stray pieces of hair from the shaved side of her head.
The kids instantly reacted to the chance to paint on someone’s head. They left their places and crowded around Chastity. Chris covered his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing as the kids painted bright splotches of color all over the side of his wife’s head. Just when he thought it wasn’t possible for him to love her any more, she went and did something like that.
“You picked a good one,” Myrna told him, shifting in her chair so she could pat his arm.
“She’s special, that’s for sure,” Chris agreed. “Although I don’t know how much credit I get for picking her. It’s almost as if fate brought us together.”
“Maybe it did.” Myrna’s expression turned more serious. “She doesn’t let adversity stop her, does she?”
“No.” Chris let out a breath, squeezing Myrna’s shoulder. “Unlike some people.”
Myrna paused, then crooked a finger to convince Chris to lean closer to her. “I’ve watched you grow from an eager, bright-eyed boy who dreamed of the stars to a strong, open-minded man. But that man has been trapped in a cage for years.”
Chris shook his head. “Not a cage, a ranch. These things don’t run themselves, you know.”
Myrna gave him a reproving look. “You have three brothers to run the ranch, not to mention that handsome Scotsman, Angus, and the other hired help. I always wondered why you didn’t shake the dust off your feet and go after the dreams I know you have.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“No? And what about your pretty wife?”
They both glanced to Chastity, who now had a messy blob of colors blending together on her head, ear, and halfway down her neck.
“Ooh, paint me, paint me,” Mary Lou called out, rolling up her sleeve and showing the soft skin of her arm.
Myrna chuckled, but she wasn’t done with Chris yet. “Seems to me like you have a living, breathing example of someone who plows right through all the barriers put in her way to be happy right by your side. Maybe you should learn from her, Mr. Teacher.”
Chris straightened slowly and watched—really watched—Chastity at work. She giggled and reached for a paintbrush to begin painting the faces of the kids crowding around her. Denise had tried to tear her down, but she’d calmly risen above it and was now making other people happy. Heck, she’d been raised in a stifling, restrictive environment, and yet she still managed to be vibrant and sexy and experimental. She’d come up with this idea to spread joy to the older people of Culpepper and was helping her family and his out at the same time. All while faced with obstacles that would make him give up.
Would have made him give up. Not anymore.
“Mrs. B., I think you might be on to something.”
Oldie Daycare Day was a super cool idea. Chastity was brimming with excitement an hour later as Myrna and her friends helped put the kids down for their nap. The kids had been all smiles all day—except whenever Denise tried to get involved—and the oldies were practically in tears they were enjoying themselves so much.
“Oldie Daycare Day,” she said to Hope as the two of them went around picking up toys fr
om the living room. “I like it. It’s ODD.” She giggled at her own joke.
Hope shook her head. “I think that paint’s leeched into your brain.”
Chastity continued to giggle, but not so loud that it would disturb the kids. “But it’s a good idea, don’t you think? We could do something like this once a week, charge a small fee for the older people, one that they could afford on a fixed income, and it would benefit everyone.”
“Yeah, I think we could—”
“Look at Little Mary Sunshine, spreading glitter farts and rainbow poops wherever she goes,” Denise blurted from the other side of the room.
Chastity and Hope turned to find her sitting against the windowsill, a Barbie in each hand.
“She thinks she’s so cute, does she,” Denise made one of the dolls say. “She’s really just a stupid tramp,” she had the other reply.
Hope turned red and started toward the woman, mouth opened to tear her a new one.
Chastity grabbed her arm to stop her. “Let me handle this.”
She started across the room, bending over to scoop up a G.I. Joe and a cloth doll as she went. Denise flushed as she came closer.
“Don’t look now, but here she comes,” Denise made one of her dolls say. “Yeah,” she mimed with the other. “I bet she’s going to act all cute and perky and pretend like we give a crap about anything she says.”
“Hi guys.” Chastity gave her G.I. Joe a low voice as she sat on the windowsill beside Denise. “How’s it hangin’?”
Denise edged to the farthest point on the sill…then hesitated and moved back. She turned both of her Barbies toward the G.I. Joe. “Hey, Duke. Did you hear about the new slut in town?” she made one say, then the other add, “Yeah, she thinks she’s real hot stuff, but really she’s just a man-thief.”
“Gosh, she sounds like a real loser,” Chastity made her rag doll say.
Denise blinked, the Barbies going limp in her hands. She recovered herself a second later, clearing her throat and holding the dolls straight again. “She’s a total loser. Just a dumb blonde from Hicksville, Kentucky.”
Chastity’s lips twitched, but she swallowed the temptation to laugh at how petty Denise was. “She might be dumb,” she made G.I. Joe say, “but at least she cares about people.”
Denise snorted, wiggling one of her Barbies and saying, “She only cares about herself and looking good so she can impress Chris.”
“Oh my gosh, what a tramp.” Chastity wiggled her rag doll. “I mean, who on earth would try to impress their husband by being a good person and helping others? That’s so lame.”
“Yeah,” she went on to have G.I. Joe say. “If I was trying to impress my husband I would stab people in the back and sabotage them and make them look stupid while yelling at all the people who were trying to help me.”
She switched to the rag doll before Denise could butt in. “Your husband? Oh my gosh, Duke, I had no idea you were gay.”
“Yeah, don’t let the camouflage fool you. I’m wearing a purple banana hammock underneath.”
“Ooh, Duke, you naughty boy. I bet you’ve got a side-career as a wedding planner too.”
“Yep, and my husband is a designer. You should see the handbags he—”
“Will you stop?” Denise snapped, throwing her Barbies to the carpet. “Are you, like, three-years-old or something?”
Chastity made G.I. Joe and the rag doll look at each other. “Uh oh. Looks like someone needs a nap.”
“Yeah,” she had G.I. Joe answer. “Maybe if we tuck her in with a blankie she’ll stop being so passive aggressive and just admit that she’s a miserable cow who drives people away with her nasty attitude as a defense mechanism so they can’t hurt her first.”
“Or that her attempts at cutting other people down are completely pointless because Chris has already made his decision and is in love with his new wife,” she had the rag doll say.
“Because he is,” Chris added from the other side of the room. “In love with his wife, that is.” He leaned against the doorframe leading into the dining room, a grin on his handsome face that was so filled with approval that Chastity felt it in her gut. And lower.
“Oh my gosh, he’s so hot,” she had G.I. Joe say. “I’d bang him six ways from Sunday.”
“Thanks, Duke, but you’re not my type,” Chris answered.
“Maybe a threesome?” G.I. Joe suggested.
Chris tilted his head to the side, considering. “Okay, but I get to be on top.”
“Ugh, you two are disgusting.” Denise shot up off the windowsill and stomped across the room. “You deserve each other.”
“And you deserve someone nice and kind and understanding who will make up for that stupid football-playing idiot who was so mean to you all those years ago,” Chastity had the rag doll say.
Denise froze in mid-step. She slowly turned back to Chastity with an expression that was equal parts horror and pain.
“Because that was a really crappy thing for someone to do, and it’s no wonder you still have scars,” Chastity had the rag doll say again. “But that’s okay, because everyone has scars. It’s whether you let people in to help heal them that counts.”
When Denise just stood there, bottom lip trembling, face growing splotchy, Chastity held up G.I. Joe and had him say, “I can beat him up for you, if you’d like. I may be super-gay, but I’ve still got awesome guns, and I’d really enjoy biting his dick off for you.”
A sound honked out of Denise that was something between a snort, a laugh, and a walrus-like wail of misery. She clapped a hand over her mouth and burst into tears, running out of the room and down the hall. A second later, the front door slammed.
“I should go after her,” Chris sighed.
“No, no, I should go after her,” Myrna said from behind Chris’s shoulder.
Chastity hadn’t seen her standing there. She hadn’t really noticed her sisters or Linda, or Birdie, Mary Lou, and Barbara watching the scene either. All she’d been thinking about was working with the means of communication Denise had chosen to get to the heart of the issue. And in the end, she was pretty sure she’d ripped right to it, for good or bad.
10
Wow. How had he gotten so lucky? Chris couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as Chastity crossed the room to him, craning her neck to look down the hall in the direction Denise had gone.
“You don’t think I was too hard on her, do you?” she asked.
“Babe, you went far easier on her than she deserved.” Chris opened his arms to accept her as she approached, then folded her in a hug. Every part of her felt perfect snuggled up against him. Her boobs were soft against his chest, her arms were tight around his torso, and her abdomen seemed like the perfect plane to rub up against to make his little pickle happy.
“I still think you should have read her the riot act for insulting you,” Hope said, evidently not noticing the ‘very special moment’ he and Chastity were warming up to.
Chastity chuckled and slipped out of Chris’s increasingly hot and bothered embrace. “Yeah, I probably could have.” She shrugged. “But there were a bunch of people watching and kids sleeping in the next room. I didn’t want it to turn into a shouting match, which it probably would have.”
“It’s a wonder your parents didn’t name you Patience.” Barbara snorted as she moved to the closest chair and sank to sit with a grunt.
“We have a cousin Patience,” Hope added, flopping onto the sofa herself. “She’s anything but.”
They could have had cousins galore with names like Lucifer, Apollyon, and Bob, and Chris wouldn’t have cared. He only cared that somehow Chastity had slipped out of his arms.
“Either way,” he said, tugging Chastity back into his embrace. “I’m proud of you.”
“Me?” Chastity blinked up at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and balancing her weight against his hips in the most delightful way.
“Yeah, you.” He dipped forward and planted a light kiss on her parted lips.<
br />
Chastity giggled. “I didn’t do anything.”
Chris arched an eyebrow. “You know, I think that’s part of our problem.”
“We have a problem?” Chastity shot him a puzzled look.
“Exactly. We haven’t done anything yet.”
Pink splashed across her face, and her blue eyes danced. “Oh, that problem. Yeah, I think it’s definitely time that we did something about that.”
She lifted up on her toes and pressed into him, kissing him with enough passion to burn the house down.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Hope held up her hands as if calling time-out across the room. “Do you mean to tell me that with all that carrying on and in spite of the fact that you two have been married for a couple of weeks that you, Chastity Quinlan Culpepper, haven’t done anything yet?”
“Unbelievable.” Joy shook her head. When Birdie, Mary Lou, and Barbara looked at her questioningly, she said, “No, really. It’s unbelievable. You don’t understand those two.”
“Eh.” Birdie shrugged. “Ulysses and I waited a whole month to go to bed after we got married.”
“You did?” Mary Lou balked.
“Of course, that’s because we were too busy having sex to actually make it to the bed.” Birdie cackled.
Mary Lou and Barbara laughed along with her, and a few seconds later, Hope, Joy, and Linda joined in. Chris was too busy groping his wife’s backside to get involved in the conversation. Chastity had already tugged the corner of his shirt up and had slipped her fingers below the waistband of his jeans. She wasn’t close to fondling any interesting bits, but the intent was there.
“So, Mom,” he said with a gasp, jolting straighter as Chastity brushed over a sensitive spot on his abdomen. “Think you could give these fine ladies a ride home when they’re ready?”
Linda shook her head at him, then glanced to Hope and Joy. “You girls think you can manage on your own for an hour or so.”