Ordinary is Perfect

by D. Jackson Leigh

  “They’re ready to eat,” Catherine said, moving to follow the smokers.

  Autumn grabbed her hand and tugged her back. “Do you want one?”

  Catherine frowned. “One what?”

  “Would you want to have a claim, or was one night all you wanted, all you still want?”

  “Autumn—” Catherine glanced at the barn, where Ed was waving for them to come inside.

  Autumn stepped close and reached up to curl her hand around Catherine’s neck. She tugged her down and kissed her quickly, but with purpose. “We don’t have time now, but we’re going to talk about this later.” She held Catherine’s gaze, hoping to feed her some of the certainty she was beginning to feel about their future. “Because I want more than a night with you.”

  ***

  The leaves gone from the trees, the full moon illuminated the path through the woods between the farms, and Catherine could easily see Autumn trotting in her direction.

  Catherine had volunteered to help some of their elderly or infirm guests back home after the dinner, while Autumn had stayed to help with the final cleanup. She’d needed time to think. Her brain was still spinning with Autumn’s surprise appearance and declaration. I want more than a night with you.

  Dinner had been exhilarating and excruciating. Autumn had been seated between her and Gabe, and the conversation flowed easily among and around them. Autumn seemed to move seamlessly between her city friends and the Elijah community. Catherine could easily envision her, Autumn, and Gabe living here like a real family. Except Autumn’s work was in the city, and Catherine had little hope she could survive, much less ever be happy there.

  Even if they could overcome that distance, Autumn was beautiful and accomplished. Her future seemed to hold limitless possibilities. Catherine was a farmer with calloused hands and plain features. Her jaw was too square, her brown hair too straight, and her eyes an unremarkable brown. Just an ordinary woman of average talent living an unremarkable existence because her future was limited by her past. She was damaged goods.

  Still, they’d have to face this situation at some point. Avoiding Autumn wasn’t an option since they shared Gabe. She took out her phone.

  Coffee?

  Do you really need to ask? On my way.

  Now Catherine stood on the porch, her emotions shifting between unease and anticipation as Autumn grew closer, her smile already showing in the semi-light. She stopped a few feet from Catherine, uncertainty etched in her expression. Autumn was beautiful anytime, but she was radiant in the soft moonlight.

  “Hey,” Autumn said, her breath sending little puffs of white into the chill night air.

  Hell. They could talk later. Catherine held out her arms, and Autumn launched into them, nearly knocking them both to the ground. Their mouths met, and their tongues dueled until they were out of breath and already tugging at clothing in their eagerness to share skin.

  “Inside,” Autumn ordered her. “Inside the house, inside the bedroom, and inside me.”

  Catherine shuddered at the image, then scooped Autumn up and bounded into the house. She was good at following orders.

  They made love for hours before entwining their bodies and falling fast asleep. And when Catherine woke with the faint light of dawn, she was wet and ready again—probably because Autumn was already awake and tracing an erotic message across Catherine’s abdomen and breasts.

  “Remember the wet dream you told me about after we made love our first time together?”

  Catherine’s breath quickened. “Yeah.” She hardly recognized her own hoarse whisper. She did remember. She had remembered over and over during the past months.

  Autumn rose and straddled Catherine’s thighs. She slid her fingers between Catherine’s legs, along her sex, lighting a fire in Catherine’s belly. Then she held the fingers up as glistening proof of Catherine’s readiness.

  “I brought a little present with me,” she said, hovering over Catherine to reach for the other side of the bed and the gift she’d hidden there.

  Catherine sucked in a sharp breath when Autumn held up a double-headed dildo. Holy crap. Words eluded her, so she nodded her consent. Autumn smiled, her eyes bright as they held Catherine’s while Autumn’s fingers found her entrance. Catherine moaned as the smaller end filled her and the curve of the prosthetic fit against her stiff clit. Then her sex tightened when Autumn fisted the larger end and pumped several times, and her eyes almost rolled back in her head when she bent to roll her tongue around it before taking it into her mouth and pumping two, three more times. A telltale tingle of pleasure began to gather in her belly.

  “Not going to last,” Catherine groaned.

  Autumn rose over her and guided the thick end into herself. “Oh, God, Cat. It feels so good, so tight inside me.” Catherine grasped Autumn’s slim hips and guided, paced her thrusts. Back and forth, in and out, up and down. Back and forth.

  Catherine’s belly began to tighten again, the tingle gathered, and she quickened the pace. Back, forth. Up, down. She felt her clit swell with each slide, then the crush of the dildo on her clit. It built until she could wait no longer. She grabbed and held Autumn’s hips to stop the up and down in favor of back and forth, in and out, in and out, in and out. Then she was yelling, and her belly was exploding and firing synapses of pleasure in every part of her.

  Just as pleasure had filled her body, Catherine’s libido was filled with a mission. She hugged Autumn to her and rolled. She pumped into Autumn, fast and hard. Autumn grabbed for a hold on the sheets while Catherine rode her.

  “Oh, God, Cat. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

  Urged on by Autumn’s plea and the heels digging into her thighs, Catherine pushed Autumn’s knees up and pumped deeper, harder, faster still. Amazingly, the sight of Autumn with her knees to her chest, the fat cock pumping in and out to a chorus of grunts and whispers primed, fueled Catherine’s desire anew. Autumn’s hands fluttered along Catherine’s arms, then grasped her shoulders.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Autumn screamed at the ceiling, throwing Catherine over the edge again.

  Once Catherine slowed, then collapsed, they lay panting in the aftermath.

  “Oh, yeah.” Autumn whispered. “We’ll have to do this again…not right now…but soon. I’m not sure I’ll even be able to walk right today.”

  Catherine chuckled. She’d never, well, she’d only dreamed of the passion, the pleasure that came with their abandon. “Has my vote, too,” she whispered in Autumn’s ear before pulling out slowly, then divesting herself as well.

  Autumn glanced at the clock, then popped up. “Shit. We have to get out of this bed. The girls are probably awake. I have to get back to my place.” She ran around gathering her cast-off clothes, then disappeared into Catherine’s bathroom and shouted over the sounds of the toilet flushing, then water running in the sink. “Angel’s sister stayed the night with them. I think the little stinkers are on to us and conspired to set us up for a night to ourselves.”

  Catherine smiled and shook her head as she rose more slowly, pulling on her jeans when she found them. She wanted to bask in the morning afterglow, but having a kid around didn’t always allow that. Still, she enjoyed the feeling.

  She picked up her shirt, then closed her eyes. They needed to talk about this. About them. About whether they had a future. And she had to be honest about some other things with Autumn, even if her revelations sent her running far away. “Isn’t this your underwear?” She held up the pink panties she’d found from the “wing” of her wing-backed reading chair. She realized Autumn had gone silent, and she turned slowly to face the bathroom door.

  Autumn’s face was a tornado of emotions—sadness, anger, pain, stoniness—changing so fast that Catherine’s happy glow froze in her chest. She held up the prescription bottle that was capped with a dropper. “What is this?” Her question was flat and devoid of emotion.

  Catherine’s mind raced for how to explain, and then she simply answered. “It’s a legal prescription fo
r when I have a bad episode of PTSD.”

  Autumn’s glare stabbed into Catherine. “It’s cannabis, and it’s not legal in this state and most of the country. You keep this around where Gabe can see it?”

  “She knows it’s a prescription drug and not for casual use. Having it in my bathroom is no different than Becki having an opioid prescription in her medicine cabinet, except that opioids are a hundred times stronger and more addictive.”

  “Don’t lecture me about weed. I grew up with parents who did nothing but farm and smoke it.” She tossed the bottle onto the bed. “They grew it even though they knew if they got busted and sent to jail, I’d end up in foster care. They were so busy smoking their harvest, they couldn’t hold real jobs.” Her volume rose with each word. “So I had to wear thrift-shop clothes to school and take the bus to the food bank for poor people to put some groceries on the table. They cared more about their marijuana habit than they did me.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “The distance, our age, and our differences didn’t matter to me. But this does.” She pushed past Catherine and yanked open the bedroom door they’d closed in case Gabe popped over before they were awake.

  “Wait. We need to talk about this.”

  Autumn paused but didn’t turn around. “I have absolutely nothing to say to you. I’m going back to Decatur as soon as I can load the car, and I’m taking Gabe with me. I’ll be in touch with Gaylord to file for full custody. She’s my blood kin, not yours. And if you fight me on this, I’ll tell them why she can’t live with you.”

  The front door slammed shut behind her, and so did Catherine’s shattered heart.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gabe’s two friends shot nervous glances at Autumn as they followed Gabe through the living room on their way to her bedroom. Autumn sighed. Tomorrow was the first day of Christmas break, and Gabe was still giving her the silent treatment after she’d terminated their Thanksgiving holiday prematurely. She half expected Gabe to be gone one morning, having found a way back to Elijah and Catherine. She knew that Gabe talked almost daily with Catherine because Gabe made no effort to hide their conversations.

  The past three weeks had been worse than rough.

  Sheriff Cofy had called and tried to talk to Autumn. He knew about Catherine’s prescription. No, she wasn’t going to jail for having it if he had anything to do with it.

  Catherine had called and texted repeatedly for more than a week, pleading for Autumn to talk with her. Then she stopped, and the silence grew more deafening with each day.

  The only time Gabe said more than yes or no to her questions was when they had repeated shouting matches about Catherine. Gabe had screamed, cried, and, the last time, told Autumn in a deadly quiet voice that she hated her.

  As if that wasn’t enough, she tortured herself over whether she was doing the right thing. She had contacted Gaylord like she’d threatened. She’d also spent hours reading studies on the use of cannabis to treat PTSD. She worried that she was piling her childhood baggage onto Gabe.

  The situation was tearing her apart. She’d snapped at Jay so much, he was avoiding her and going to Rachel for everything. Rachel was great. She listened to the whole story, then shrugged. “I don’t think anyone but you can decide what to do. But you should talk to Catherine. You never gave her a chance to tell her side of this story. Then listen to your heart, not your head. It always knows best.”

  Rachel and Sam were throwing a Christmas party tonight. She was invited, of course, as were Jay and Evan. When she tried to use Gabe as an excuse to not go, Rachel gave her a pointed stare. “Gabe is invited, too. Several people are bringing their kids.”

  She wasn’t sure Gabe would go anywhere with her, and the last place she felt like being was at a holiday party. This was going to be the worst Christmas ever.

  She scowled when a knock at the door pulled her from her pity party. She missed her old apartment that had a doorman and a keyed elevator that let only residents with a key fob past the lobby. It was probably another of Gabe’s friends, but she checked the peephole anyway. She yanked the door open when she recognized the man standing there.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Is that any way to talk to your father?”

  Autumn stared at him. He looked old. His hair had turned completely white, and he was thinner than she’d ever seen him, but fairly fit for a man in his late sixties. Why was he here? The next thought hit her hard. “Mama?”

  “She’s at home. She’s not sick or anything, just very upset right now. But I’d rather not talk about this from the hallway. Can I come in?”

  Autumn hesitated. More than one therapist had told her that she’d never resolve her childhood baggage unless she discussed her feelings with her parents. Maybe she should before she fucked up any more lives. She stepped back and motioned for him to come in.

  His eyes roamed over every inch of the living area, taking it all in. “You’ve done well for yourself, Princess.”

  She flinched at his pet name for her. She felt more like a troll. “If you and Mama need money—”

  He gave her a sharp look. “We’re more than comfortable financially. That’s not why I’m here.”

  “I’m going to have a drink. Do you want something?” She went into the kitchen, and he followed but stopped on the other side of the granite-topped island.

  “A glass of water would be welcomed.”

  She poured him a glass of bottled water, then pulled her favorite blended whiskey and a glass from the cabinet for herself and carried it to the dining table and sat. “So, sit down and tell me why you’re here. It’s been, what, eight years? No, there was Grandma Swan’s funeral. That was my chance to reconnect with Becki, but you and your brother managed to get into an argument that messed up that family reunion.”

  “Go ahead and say it all. Every little thing you’ve been carrying around since you were a headstrong kid. I probably deserve a lot of it and should have shown up a long time ago to let you get it all off your chest. Your mama and I know you had it rough, and we should have been able to do better by you. But there’s another side of the story.”

  Autumn was about to lay into him, but Gabe’s door opened, and the kids headed for the front door.

  “We’re going to get some pizza,” Gabe said without looking their way.

  “If Becki heard you talking to an adult with that attitude, she’d have a switch after you in a skinny minute.”

  Gabe whirled, her face lighting up with her first smile since they’d returned to Decatur. “Uncle Peter!” She flung herself at him, and he caught her with a big hug.

  “Hey, Tadpole. I’m sorry I missed your mama’s memorial.” He glanced at Autumn. “We just thought it might go better if we weren’t there.”

  Autumn was stunned. Gabe knew her father? Why didn’t she know about this?

  “I want to go home, Uncle Peter. Take me back to Catherine and Elvis, or take me home with you.”

  He looked at her friends, who stood frozen by the door. “If you guys don’t mind, I need to visit with Gabe a bit.” He set his glass of water on the table and fished a couple of bills from his wallet. “You guys go have some pizza on me.”

  The girl, Julie, grabbed the money. “Thanks.”

  He cocked his head. “Does that place deliver?” When both kids nodded, he fished two more twenties from his wallet and handed them over. “Can you ask them to send a large sausage and pepperoni to this address? Y’all can keep the change.”

  “Sure,” Julie said. “We can do that.”

  “Great. It was nice meeting some of Gabe’s friends.”

  “Nice meeting you, sir,” the boy said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Julie echoed before they darted out the door with big smiles and clutching the pizza money.

  He turned to Gabe. “Get you something to drink, and then I want you to sit down with us.”

  Gabe’s face clouded with a scowl, but he put a hand up.

  “Don’t give me that look. I’ve seen
it too often from Princess here, so I’ve built up an immunity. Just get your drink and sit down, Gabriella. Both of you need to hear what I’ve got to say. But you need to have a little patience because I’ll have to start from the beginning for it all to make sense.”

  Autumn had been silent long enough. After all these years, he just strolls in, hands out pizza money to Gabe’s friends, and thinks he can order me and Gabe around in my own house? “How about we start with why you kept in touch with Becki, but not your own daughter?”

  “My daughter wouldn’t talk to me or her mother. But we’ve been around. You just didn’t know it.”

  “Right. Where were you when I was struggling through college and starting up my business?”

  “I’ll answer that one question, but then you have to let me tell it the way I need to.” He took a long drink of his water while Gabe sat at the end of the table, between him and Autumn. “The scholarship you received your sophomore year, and every year after that your tuition, books, and meal plan?”

  “The Addison Ridge scholarship.”

  “Yes. Your mama and me set up and endowed that scholarship at Emory.”

  Autumn snorted. “Yeah. Right. You guys were living in that little shack outside town, growing pot and smoking your days away when I graduated high school early and left.”

  “You left in the middle of the night, and it took a while for us to find where you were.” He waved a dismissive hand. “But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

  The doorbell rang, and he paused while Autumn went to the door to get the pizza and Gabe got plates and napkins for them. When they settled again, he started over.

  “We never told you because any mention of it still throws your mama into a depression, but we had a son before you came along.”

  Autumn stopped chewing and swallowed. “I have a brother?”

  “Had,” Peter said. “He died when he was still a baby. Your mother was already pregnant with you. I still think her having all those pregnancy hormones in her body when we lost him is what caused her to take it so hard and never get over it.” He took a bite of pizza and stared down at the table while he chewed. His eyes were watery when he looked up. “Actually, I don’t think any parent gets over the loss of a child, but most of us find a way to live with it. Your mother still struggles even after all these years.”