by A C Warneke
“You mean everything to me, Malorie,” he rasped, giving one final thrust before jerking from her body and spilling his boiling seed onto her stomach, the wasted semen burning a hole through her soul. Bending his head, he rested his brow against hers, his breath as harsh and broken as hers. “Everything.”
“You’re a coward, Feryn,” she said softly, taking his beloved face in her hands and gently kissing his lips. “A bloody, fucking coward.”
Chapter 11
Malorie blinked her eyes, slowly coming awake in her warm, comfortable bed. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows and she felt so disoriented. She had been having the most extraordinary dream and her body still ached with remembered pleasure; it had seemed so passionate, so real. She could still smell the rich, opulent musk of her fantasy lover.
Rolling onto her back, she stretched, a smile playing at her lips as she recalled the fading image of a black-haired man screwing her brains out, the intensity of the orgasm that tore through her body. Still wearing a light weight night gown, she ran her hands over her tender breasts, her puckered nipples, over the smooth plane of her belly, to her still sensitive sex. It didn’t surprise her that she was wet.
It had been an incredible dream.
With the waning memory, she lightly touched the damp, swollen folds through the material of her gown, feeling the tingle of an explosive orgasm. She had never had such an attentive lover, the things he had done to her, the size of his…. The thought made her blush. Of course, Jack had been her only lover and it had been years…. There had just never been anyone who interested her; her life was so full, so busy, that it would take someone extraordinary to snare her attention. Someone like the man in her dreams….
A frown pulled at her forehead as sorrow washed over her, as if she lost something important but she couldn’t imagine what. Her life was nearly perfect; she lived in a beautiful neighborhood in a wonderful house with the most important person in her world; why was she so sad?
Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs, she heard the door open and then her son was running into the room, his brown eyes bright with excitement as he scrambled up onto the bed. “Mommy!”
She laughed, automatically taking him into her arms and hugging him close to her chest and dismissing the lingering sensations. “Good morning, sweetie.”
“It’s time to get up,” he told her, squiggling out of her arms and bouncing on the bed in all of his nearly six year old exuberance. “You promised to make pancakes for breakfast.”
“So I did,” she conceded, grabbing him and tickling his little belly until he giggled. Kissing his nose, she settled back with his comfortable weight in her arms, “Do you want blueberry or chocolate chip?”
“Chocolate chip,” he said, as she knew he would. He always chose choco….
The thought came to an abrupt halt, somehow wrong – though she couldn’t figure out what was wrong or even why it was wrong. With a frown, she felt Toby slide out of bed. Distractedly, she followed, stepping into her slippers and grabbing the robe off the foot of her bed. Ruffling Toby’s hair on the way to her bathroom. Her thoughts scrambled, she murmured in a distracted voice, “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“All right!” he cried, running off and leaving her to her strange thoughts.
She looked around her familiar room, with its billowing pale blue curtains, the soft cream colored walls, the sturdy wood furniture. It had been her bedroom for years; it had been the bedroom she had shared with Jack. But it was… it was jarring in its sheer normalness.
In a fog, she wandered into the bathroom, taking a quick shower. Soaping her body, she winced as she brushed the swollen nub of her sex, as if it had recently been well pleasured in truth, not just in her dreams. Her muscles down there were also a little tender, as if she had been stretched to accommodate the huge size of her dream lover’s erection.
She smiled wryly at her fanciful notions; of course her body was never stretched – it had been a dream. In actuality, she was probably going to have her period in a few days. She’d have to check her calendar to see when it was due.
After breakfast, she planned on working in the garden while Toby played in the backyard on the swing set. Her plants were really coming along and she would have an overflowing yield of fruits and vegetables in a few weeks. She and Toby were going to be very busy making jams and salsas, canning the goodies. She would be sure to make a large batch of blackberry jam; it was Toby’s favorite.
Rinsing her hair, she stepped out of the shower and dried off. She twisted her hair into a braid that trailed down her back before putting on her bra and panties. Knowing that she was going to be working in the garden, she put on a pair of comfortable cotton pants and an old, grey t-shirt that once belonged to her father….
Her father. He was away right now and she was sure she knew why but she couldn’t remember what the reason was at that moment. There was something more than that, something important…. Forcing herself to think, to remember, her thoughts kept getting blocked by a colorful parrot squawking behind the bars of a large, ornate cage. It didn’t make any sense; her father… he…. Why couldn’t she remember? It was the damnedest thing; the memories were there by they were… concealed.
Her fantasy lover must have stolen some of her brains when he fucked them out of her head last night. The thought made her chuckle as she continued getting dressed, trying to not let her memory loss disturb her too much. She was sure she would remember. Eventually.
After putting on socks and shoes, she joined Toby in the kitchen. He had already gotten out most of the ingredients, a beaming smile lighting his face. There was a gap where he had recently lost his first tooth and it made her want to laugh; he looked like a rough-and-tumble boy with the missing tooth. She tweaked his nose and asked, “Okay, sweetie, where do we begin?”
Abruptly, she realized she hadn’t a clue. What had meant to be a joke turned into slight panic; she had no idea how to make pancakes. No problem, she was sure she had made pancakes before; she remembered making pancakes before. She just couldn’t remember how she did it. Chewing on her lip, she opened the cupboard above the stove and found a stack of cookbooks and sighed in relief.
Surely it couldn’t be that difficult; millions of people made pancakes every day. Flipping through the index, she found the page she needed and turned to the pancake recipe. She did a quick survey of the ingredients and directions and felt almost positive she would be able to handle a batch of pancakes.
As it turned out, making pancakes was much more difficult than she had assumed. The first batch was burnt on one side and undercooked on the other; the second batch was burnt on both sides; the third batch was sort of goopy. And then they were out of batter and she had to make up another bowl full. Toby’s giggles grew with each failed effort, making her more determined to get it right even as she laughed with him.
Finally, they had reasonable approximations of pancakes; a bit lumpy and nowhere near round, but edible. At least with enough butter and syrup. As they ate, Toby entertained her with his chatter, talking about all of the things that he wanted to do for the rest of the day, which most definitely did not include taking a bath, though he was willing to take a quick shower if he was allowed to dig up worms in the garden. He would prefer ice cream for dinner but if that wasn’t an option, he would settle for macaroni and cheese or perhaps chicken nuggets; he wasn’t particular. She nodded solemnly even as her eyes sparkled with laughter.
As they talked and laughed, the familiar wave of grief crashed through her and she had to catch her breath. It was as if the something that was missing wasn’t something but someone; someone she loved very much. Before she could figure out who was missing, her gut rumbled in revolt. Clutching her stomach, she had to close her eyes as cramps ate at her belly.
Yep, she was definitely going to be having her period soon.
“Are you all right mommy?” Toby asked, his little voice interrupting her thoughts.
She forced a smile
and realized tears had spilled down her cheeks. Laughing at her absurdity, she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and sniffled, “I’m fine, baby. I must have gotten a piece of dust in my eyes, or something.”
He looked at her as if she had gone crazy and maybe she had because she couldn’t shake the feeling of incredible loss. It didn’t make any sense; her husband had been dead for nearly six years and while she knew she would always miss him and cherish his memory, she had dealt with his death.
It wasn’t as if his death came as much of a surprise. He had… he….
Standing, she began gathering the dirty plates wondering at her… heartlessness. Transferring the dishes to the sink, she rubbed her forehead, trying to understand what was happening, why she felt like everything was so… off. Absently, she said, “Toby, sweetie, go get your shoes on and we’ll start work in the garden.”
“Okay,” he said easily, heading off to get his shoes and whatever toys he wanted to bring outside. She would have to remember to put sunscreen on him.
Leaving the dishes to soak in hot soapy water, she gathered up her supplies and headed outside, knowing Toby would come out when he had his shoes on. At the first sight of her garden, she felt herself relax and she smiled. Her flowers were blooming, the vines and branches were heavy with fruit; the vegetables were plentiful, and it was all aesthetically pleasing, creating a sense of serenity when she viewed it. She was very proud of her garden, of all of the work she had put into it over the years.
“Hey, Malorie!” her neighbor called from the other side of the fence.
Shielding her eyes with her hand, she smiled and waved at Jay. She was about to say hello when she had an image of him with a bleached blond, spiky hairdo and an assortment of diamonds flashing from his ears, his eyebrow. Even more disturbing was the realization that he had managed to conceal the brilliant light that should have been shining from within him. She stumbled slightly, shaking her head to clear the strange vision. It had been so odd, in fact, that she considered making a doctor’s appointment to see if there was something wrong with her brain.
But the idea of going to the doctor’s felt wrong; she didn’t go to doctors’ offices or hospitals. It was too dangerous to reveal her existence….
Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a breath and dismissed the strange, strange thoughts playing in her head. Of course she went to the doctors; she had no reason to hide. She was simply Malorie Sinclair and she had nothing to fear. Opening her eyes, she smiled at Jay and saw that he had familiar, tailored brown hair and nary an earring anywhere on his face. Forcing her body to move, she walked over to the fence to chat with him. “Good morning, Jay.”
His smile was warm, unlike the other times she saw him…. Stretching her lips wider, she dismissed the traitorous thought. She was obviously suffering from sleep deprivation, or something; Jay had never been anything but kind and generous. He and Jack used to work on their cars together; even if she couldn’t quite recall the cars they worked on or even seeing the two men together.
It was so odd; she could remember the familiar jokes about their names being so similar and how frequently they got together; she could remember Jay offering a shoulder to lean on when Jack had passed away, and the hours he had held her as she cried, promising to tell her unborn child how brave Jack had been, but she couldn’t quite picture any of it in her head.
His interrupted her meandering thoughts by asking, “I see you’re working in the gardens again; when will you be harvesting?”
It took her a moment to gather her careening wildly out of control thoughts, but she managed, “Um, I have some strawberries coming in now that Toby will want to pick later this afternoon. There are some raspberries that will be ready soon and of course, the tomatoes and peppers that seem to sprout right back up as soon as they are picked.”
“Will you be making salsa for the neighborhood again?” he asked with a twinkle in his silver green eyes. “Last year’s was perhaps your best batch yet.”
She laughed, remembering the explosive flavor of hot peppers and tomatoes. The thought that she had never made salsa before wiggled through her head but she shook it off, like she had been shaking off so much that morning. It had been a hell of a dream and she was pretty sure it had actually caused some temporary brain damage. At least, she hoped it was temporary. “I was thinking of making a couple of batches; Toby is not a big fan of spice.”
“Well, I think the hotter the better,” he waggled his eyebrows for emphasis, making her laugh. “I’ll put in a request now for some with habanero peppers.”
“You’ll burn your esophagus!” she laughed in mock horror, feeling the familiar rhythm of their bantering. She couldn’t feel completely at ease because she was losing her mind.
The backdoor opened and within moments, Toby was standing next to her, looking at Jay with admiration. Toby liked their neighbor a great deal; it helped that Jay frequently took Toby fishing in the local stream and they seemed to share a love of digging… for… worms… in the garden. Why didn’t that sound like something Jay would do, even though she could picture it so clearly in her mind? Or, at least, she thought she should be able to…. “Hey, Mr. Jay.”
“Hey, kiddo,” Jay said with a much warmer smile for her son. “Looks like you’ve got a busy day of playing ahead; mind if I join you?”
Toby giggled slightly at the man’s absurdity, but it sounded a little forced. Then he slid his hand in hers, the tiny fingers shaking slightly. Was he feeling the strangeness of the day as well? Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, she smiled at Jay, “Is it just me or has the world been royally fucked over while I was sleeping?”
As soon as the words were out, her eyes nearly popped out of her head and she gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand. “That came out so wrong! It has just been the strangest morning and….”
“Oh, I understand,” he said with a commiserating chuckle when her words simply trailed off. “I’ve had days like that, too. I find the best thing to do is to take a hot bath and drink a glass or two of wine. Or find a warm and wet woman….”
This time he let his words trail off, a slight blush tingeing his cheeks as he glanced down at Toby as if he wasn’t used to talking in front of children, and she had the absurd desire to giggle. Without thinking, she blurted, “I prefer men.”
He met her eyes and they shared a rare smile and she almost stumbled and fell; he was an extraordinarily handsome man and while she suffered no attraction for him, there was something heartbreakingly familiar about him. Concern clouded his gaze and he reached out but she stepped back before he could comfort her. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” he asked softly. At her nod, he straightened and gave her a wry smile, “I wish I could stay and chat but I have to get to work; you know how it is….”
“I do,” she murmured, staring at him in a desperate attempt to figure out who he reminded her.
Tipping his head to her, he turned around and left them alone once more. She shook her head for the umpteenth time that morning and turned to begin work in her garden. But Toby tugged on her hand and she bent down to talk to him. With a reassuring smile, she asked, “What’s up?”
“I couldn’t find my tennis shoes,” he said softly and she glanced down at his stocking feet and had to bite back a laugh. Her son was obviously distressed but it was so absurd seeing him outside with just his socks on. And after the strangeness of the morning….
Taking his hand, she led him back inside to do a full house search if necessary to find the missing shoes. And put some sunscreen on him since they were back inside anyway. They entered through the kitchen doors and she paused, realizing how very… large her kitchen was, how ultra-modern and unused the appliances appeared. She didn’t get to contemplate too long because Toby was tugging on her hand, leading her through the house to his bedroom.
And with each step she took, the general sense of surrealism grew. The house, while beautiful and very nicely decorated, was simply too larg
e for just her and Toby. Each room they passed through was… enormous and when they headed up the stairs to the bedrooms, she briefly wondered why she would have a house with eight bedrooms when they logistically only needed three: one for her, one for Toby and one for guests, if they ever had any guests. She might have justified it if one of the bedrooms was an office or a crafts room, but those were located on the ground floor and basement respectively.
No, the upstairs had eight bedrooms; eight mammoth bedrooms.
Why hadn’t she ever noticed how big her house was before? And however did she afford it since she didn’t have a job of any sort? Did she wake up in some sort of alternate reality?
“Mommy,” Toby urged, waiting for her at the entrance to his bedroom.
Blinking, she followed him into his room and nearly gasped at the number of toys, all perfectly in place. How did he get so many toys without her realizing it? She was going to have to pull back on buying him toys, though most of them looked brand new. “No wonder you can’t find anything; look at all of these things.”
He rolled his eyes at her teasing, going over to the closet where he normally kept his shoes, “Look, mommy; my shoes aren’t in there.”
She looked in the closet and saw rows and rows of tiny little shoes. Frowning, she kneeled down and pulled out a pair of perfectly good tennis shoes, “What about these ones, sweetie? What’s wrong with them?”
“They have sticky ties,” he said, referring to the hook and loop fastener. “I can’t find my tie shoes.”
Digging through the closet, she had to concede that he was right. There was every type of shoe in there except for regular, laced tennies. Sitting back on her butt, she let out a sigh. “Huh. I could have sworn I bought regular tennis shoes for you.”
“You did,” he assured her, sitting down next to her, mimicking her pose – legs stretched out in front, palms flat on the floor behind, unbent elbows and arms holding them up. “They had Robo-monsters on them and they were green.”