by Knox, Abby
“Stay here,” he says through gritted teeth, as if he somehow knows who it is too.
I scramble around the room to dress myself while explaining things. “Babe, it’s my dad…”
He holds up a hand to say he knows. “Let me handle it. I know everything.”
I gape back at him. “How?”
“Remember the part about me having my PI license? Trust me, I might know more than you. I hate that I am telling you this now, in this way, but there it is.”
He disappears around the corner before I can tell him it’s fine that he’s been looking into the case. I’m glad he knows. I’m glad he was checking up on things and never told me. He’s given me the gift of enjoying our relationship without the case weighing both of us down. But from now on, we are going to carry things together.
I dress quickly and go into the living room, where Vince is blocking an old man from entering my apartment door.
“You can’t be here, you need to leave. She doesn’t want you in her life.”
The old man, who looks barely like the person I remember being taken into custody so many years ago, has unkempt hair and a face the color of ash.
“That’s my daughter in there and I have a right to be here.”
The attitude is the only thing I recognize. I see he’s not chosen to better himself during his time behind bars.
“Vince, I need to say something.”
The man laughs, and it’s the familiar, ingratiating kind of laugh that he used to give to my mom and us girls whenever he wanted to come back home after a night of drinking and putting his fist through a wall. Or pushing my mom around. It’s the sound of someone who thinks he’s blessing you by letting you forgive him.
“John,” I say.
“That’s some way to address your dad. Tell this meathead to get out of the way. You and I have things to talk about.”
I think for a moment, and I realize I’m not afraid.
“Let him in, Vince.”
“No fucking way.”
“Vince. Are you going to let him lay a hand on me?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then let him in.”
I can see Vince is wavering between what I want and what he wants, and eventually he gives in to me. He lets John in and backs away, cursing under his breath. I love that he’s so protective of me.
John sits down. I go over and sit across from the man who fathered me, fold my hands, and say, “John. I’m calling you John because you may have contributed to my conception, but you are not my father. And I’m going to tell you this once. Just because I can maybe, possibly, one day find a way to forgive you for what you did to my mom, it doesn’t mean you get to be a part of my life.”
“That’s a fine way to greet me, when I never did anything to anybody.”
“John. Let’s pretend for a moment that you didn’t get drunk, argue with her, and then bash in her skull with a pipe wrench after she went to sleep. That she did not die at the hands of her drunk, violent husband but at the hands of an impossibly random burglary in our gated neighborhood. Let’s pretend that’s real. Even without all that, you still made her life a living hell. And for that, you have not paid the price, because you’re not sorry. I know you don’t understand a word I’m saying but maybe someday you will. But your entitlement runs deep, so maybe you’ll understand this. Here.”
27
Vince
I can hardly believe what I’m seeing.
Jewel goes to her handbag and takes out a piece of paper and twenty dollars, and hands it to John.
“I’ve made some calls,” she says. “As a veteran, you are entitled to stay there”—she gestures at the paper—“until you get back on your feet. The address and all the information is there. They have a room for you. You should go now, and don’t ever come back. I won’t know you.”
John looks at me and back at my Jewel. Something in me wants to flatten him for the crime of casting his eyes on her.
“Not even gonna give me a ride?”
I shrug.
Jewel crosses to the door and opens it, clearly waiting for him to usher himself out. “That’s what the twenty dollars is for. I already called you a cab.”
As soon as he leaves, I lock the door, storm to her bedroom closet, drag out a suitcase, and start filling it with her clothes. When I zip it up and start to haul it off the bed, I hear her scoff.
“Vince, what are you doing?”
“You aren’t staying here by yourself. You can’t live with me until things are resolved with Max’s custody issues, so I’m moving you in with Shelley and Barry.”
I hear her giggle and put my hands up in surrender, waiting for her to tell me what’s so funny.
“Not that,” she says, nearly doubled over in what looks like adrenaline-induced mirth. “I’ll need more than those things, maybe?” I plop the suitcase flat on the floor and unzip it. And then I see what I’ve done. I’ve shoved all her lacy underthings into the suitcase and nothing else.
I’m looking at a pile of pretty, sexy pieces of satin, lace, spandex and…whoa…some patent leather.
I scratch my head. “I see your point.”
28
Jewel
The most difficult day of the year arrives, and with it a cold front signaling a change in the seasons. My mother’s birthday.
I slip out early from Barry and Shelley’s house, before anyone else is awake. Their family has been so gracious to me and I don’t want to burden them or anyone else with my gloomy mood today.
I’m not afraid to stay at my apartment, but once Vince informed them of the circumstances, they were just as insistent as Vince that I stay with them.
I’ve previously arranged to take today off from work, but told no-one except for a very understanding Headmistress Moody. Since I became an adult, today is the day I spend alone every year; a day I visit all the places I remember visiting with her.
On one of Mom’s posthumous birthdays, I included my sister in this ritual. Then the next year, my sister declined. “It’s no good dwelling on the past,” she’d told me.
First I take a long walk in the park, where she used to take me and my sister to play. I walk around the lake a few times, then sit and watch the ducks. Later, I make my way to a breakfast restaurant she once took us to, and order her favorite foods. Then I drive by the preschool where she worked, and then past her church. Finally I stop at her favorite grocery store and roam around aimlessly. I check out of the store with a cart full of nonperishables, makeup and feminine hygiene products, which I then drop off at the women’s shelter. I’ve also grabbed a bouquet of mums from the floral section of the store, which I keep.
My last stop is the cemetery.
As I approach her gravesite, it looks like someone else has already been here. My stomach lurches and I pray it’s not John.
Up close I see that it’s a small bouquet of daisies, tied with a pretty pink ribbon. John would never come here, let alone think to bring her flowers.
I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing as the tears come, feeling grateful for whomever it was who left these flowers.
A startled gasp escapes me when a small hand suddenly slips into mine. Upon opening my eyes I see Max staring back up at me, looking worried.
“Max,” I breathe, “what are you doing here? You should be in school!”
He doesn’t answer but hugs me around my waist. I wipe a tear and squeeze him close. “Where’s Vince?”
But no sooner is the question out of my mouth than I see Vince coming up the walk. I stare at him incredulously as I wait for him to arrive and explain what’s going on.
“Moody called; Max got sent to her office for acting up in class. He was not happy you weren’t there. I was worried and thought you were sick at first, and then I checked the calendar. I knew you’d get here eventually. We’ve been in the car, keeping warm, waiting for you.”
I blink at him, trying to absorb everything. “The flowers?”
Vi
nce shrugs. “Max picked them out.”
I lean down and kiss the top of Max’s head. “Thank you, Max. She would have loved you.”
I turn back to Vince. “How did you find out what today is?”
Vince slips a hand along my jawline to cup my face. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t make it a point to know these things?”
This is one of those rare occasions when I have no words, but Vince somehow has all the right ones.
“You don’t have to do this alone, love. Not anymore.”
29
Jewel
Tonight is opening night for the winter musical, and things have been going a little too well. Everybody, including the crew, has gotten every line and cue down beautifully.
As for Max, his grandmother has failed time and time again to extract herself from the grip of Max’s abuser. The state is getting close to talking to her about forfeiting custodial rights and allowing Vince to adopt him.
I’m happily, yet temporarily, residing with Barry and Shelley, who are amazing, and their darling daughters.
Vince and I have been spending every moment together with Max when I’m not at work or at rehearsals, which means mainly we see each other on weekends.
The sets he and his team built are better than I ever expected, and so are the costumes.
As an apology for being distant, Mr. Rushmore sent a huge donation to the theater arts budget, which will allow us the money to do a certain musical next year that I’ve never been able to justify. I mean, we can often reuse a gazebo and a flowery meadow and a grand staircase and possibly even costumes that look like curtains. But a gigantic, terrifying animatronic bloodthirsty plant? That won’t ever pay for itself.
Weirdly, Mr. Rushmore also sent a huge bouquet of white roses to the costume department. The only thing I can guess is because Hunter Rydell is on the swim team with his daughter, but that seems a bit of a stretch. I should really stop trying to figure people out. Vince’s is the only response I’m interested in figuring out.
Dare I say everything is going swimmingly?
And then, I receive a phone call from Captain Von Trapp, and it’s possibly the second-worst news I’ve ever received in my whole entire life. I step gingerly into the backstage area where my true love is patching up a last-minute fix on the gazebo.
“Vince?”
He doesn’t turn around. “I know that tone of voice. What do you need, babe?”
“What size are you?”
He hammers a nail home. “Want me to take it out so you can measure it?”
“We both know standard measuring tapes aren’t enough for your size, not to mention your girth. No, I mean your shirt size and pant size.”
This makes him wheel around to face me.
“No,” he says before he knows what I’m going to ask.
Darn. I thought my jumping on the opportunity to compliment his dick size would butter him up. “Think of it as stepping out of your comfort zone!” I chirp.
“I don’t like stepping out of my comfort zone. It’s uncomfortable.”
“Babe. Captain Von Trapp has the flu. It’s bad.”
“Fuck no.”
“Yes. And I think you’ll fit?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”
“Just hear me out, baby.”
“I don’t fucking know the lines.”
“Yes, you do. You’ve been at every rehearsal since the beginning of the term!”
“That’s not the point! Bring in the understudy!”
I cross my arms. “Understudy? This is an all-ages production at a wee little academy. Not Broadway. Besides”—I uncross my arms and walk my fingers up his chest—“you’ll look extra sexy in lederhosen.”
Vince roars, “Show me in the movie anywhere that Captain Von Trapp wears lederhosen!”
“Ha!” I point a finger in his face, not the least bit intimidated. “You have seen the movie! You do love this story! In your face! You are doing this show, Grumpy Man! You’ll be perfect! No sexier grumpy dad ever existed in this world than Captain Von Trapp. This…this is your destiny.” All right, I went too far at the end, complete with a reverent tone and a raised eyebrow.
Vince grunts, he growls, he mutters, he roars, he stubs his toe on the gazebo, he curses, but at the end of all that, my baby does this for me.
Turns out, Captain Von Trapp’s costumes are only slightly too small, and my genius helper, Hunter, is able to take out a seam here and lengthen a cuff there to make things work. More or less.
Whatever. It’s absolutely adorable. And all that green with his strawberry-blonde hair? Forget about it. I am soaked.
After much consoling of both him and of our high-school-aged Maria Von Trapp, who needed assurances that she wouldn’t be kissing the weird, angry man who replaced her hunky rugby-playing boyfriend, everybody seems happy.
Although we slashed the script severely so Vince wouldn’t have to sing any solos, he goes ahead and sings “Edelweiss” just before they all escape the Nazis.
It is beautiful. It is unbelievable. It brings the audience to tears.
And just like that, it’s over, and he gets a standing ovation, along with Max. All the older Von Trapp sisters grab the little guy up in their arms. I can see he’ll be preoccupied for a while.
“Come on,” I say as I grab Vince after his final bow and begin to lead him backstage.
“Where are we going?” he protests. I’m starting to think he really liked taking his bows.
“To the prop room. Step lively, Captain, and bring your whistle, because it’s about to get blown.”
“Whoa! I was not expecting you to say that,” he replies.
We march down into the bowels of the auditorium, where I haul him into the prop room and lock the door.
He laughs when I shove him up against an old set piece from Guys and Dolls. I point in his face. “That was the sexiest damn thing I have ever seen in my damn life and you earned yourself a good old-fashioned dick suckin’.”
Vince grabs me up and kisses me softly. “Jewel Fairhope. I love you so much. Will you marry me?”
“I love you too, and yes.”
30
Vince
Holy. Shit.
Jewel is frantically helping me free the Little Vinny out of these lederhosen. “Come on, big fella, you need to start talking dirty and keep it going while I got you in my mouth.”
The suction she’s creating is unbelievable. What can I expect from my girl who’s always ready? “You like sucking dick, you filthy girl?”
She shakes her head no, but without missing a beat—or missing a thrust—she points up at me.
“You like sucking my dick?”
She taps her index finger to her nose and mumbles “Mmhmm” while swirling her tongue around my length and giving me a congratulatory pat on my belly. I don’t know how she can make so much noise with my rock-hard cock buried all the way back to her throat, but this is my woman. My Jewel. She is a champion at everything, including giving me everything I could ever need.
Epilogue
Vince
Two weeks later
Jewel is the perfect woman for me, a man of few words.
She’s so enthusiastic, I only have to hint at something and she’s all in.
We’re messing around in the huge shower on our wedding night inside our amazing honeymoon suite. I’m kissing and petting her, still unable to believe she’s mine. I’ll never get tired of petting her curves.
“Baby, I know you’re tired after today, so we don’t have to do anything too acrobatic tonight,” I tell her between kisses on her sensitive nipples.
“Fuck that, I’m not tired. I’m never too tired!” she chirps.
I’m a bad influence; my sunshine sweetheart cusses like a sailor now when the two of us are alone.
I shrug, almost too shy to bring it up. We are married, but in the big picture, I’ve only known her for a few months. I let the warm water glide down my back while I work up the nerv
e.
“It’s not a big deal, but can I put my finger in your ass?”
Jewel jumps up and down gleefully. I have to control my laughter to hold her still so she doesn’t slip and fall on the wet tile. “Hold on, girl. We aren’t having a dance party in here.”
“The answer is yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes!”
“You didn’t get this excited when I proposed! All right, baby,” I say, kissing her to calm her down, stroking both her ass cheeks.
She hitches one thigh around my waist to open herself wider in back. Using the cascading warm water as lube, I start by tracing my fingers down her split and circling her back door.
Her eyes roll back in her head, like they did on the day she first ate my Elvis cookies.
I kiss her deeply, teasing her with my tongue and sinking the tip of my finger into her sweet asshole.
“Turn the water off, save water,” she murmurs.
“The fuck…don’t you ever stop being a teacher?”
She playfully bites my earlobe and I wince. “Do you ever stop being a giant grump?”
“Hard to be a grump with my finger in your ass. You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”
She wrinkles her nose and presses her ass back to encourage me to go deeper.
“Not too fast now,” I murmur into her mouth while she takes my kiss.
“Are you kidding? I got married for someone to stick their finger in my butt!” she squeaks happily.
The full-body laughter bubbling up inside me can no longer be contained.
“I love you, my priceless Jewel.”
“I love you, my sweet Vince,” she pants, her head lolling back. “But it’s not fair that I can’t reach your butt to return the favor.”
“Simmer down, baby. You first.”
I kneel down in front of her, where I hoist her thick, beautiful thighs up around my shoulders and go to town on her with my mouth, my finger still nestled inside her.