“More than sometimes.”
She nodded and turned thoughtful. After a moment she leaned against me, pulled my arm around her, and sighed. We sat in silence for several minutes as we each worked through our emotions. She eventually relaxed completely.
“I love you,” she said. “You still drive me crazy sometimes, but I guess that’s a small price to pay for a guy who gets me.”
“Same here. You get me, so it’s a match made in heaven.”
“Not yet,” she said tiredly. “We still have one more thing to do.”
“Take vows in front of a priest?”
“Now you sound like my mother. No, the other thing is going to happen long before we’re married. Just… not tonight.”
“That’s okay. We waited this long.”
“We can wait a little longer.”
“Right.”
We fell silent again and simply enjoyed holding each other. My eyes began to droop as the whiskey in my system finally overwhelmed the fading adrenaline. Christy must’ve felt the same, because she yawned too.
“You’re hard on a girl,” she said.
“Just wait till tomorrow. I’ll show you hard.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
We abided by the house rules and went to bed separately. All the alcohol I’d drunk would have been enough to put me out like a light, but I also felt a huge sense of relief, like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
I was still sleeping soundly when Christy climbed into bed with me sometime later. I woke up enough to scoot over, but that was all I did. She hugged me and breathed a deep sigh. Then she ran her fingers under the waistband of my boxers.
“I thought you always slept nude.”
I knew a hint when I heard one, even half-asleep, so I lifted my hips and thrust the shorts under my butt.
Christy helped slide them down my legs and then tossed them to the floor. “Much better.” She slid her leg over mine and kissed my chest. “Go back to sleep.”
I sighed and did exactly that.
A dull headache and full bladder woke me in the morning. Christy was still beside me, a little furnace of temptation, so I rolled toward her and nudged her with my hard-on. She sighed in her sleep and pushed back against me.
Unfortunately, my bladder wasn’t going to empty itself, so I climbed out of bed and found my discarded boxers. My erection was still painfully obvious, but it was the best I could do. At least the hall was deserted when I emerged from the bedroom, although a sliver of light glowed under the master bedroom door.
In the bathroom I stood over the toilet and waited for my dick to sort out its priorities. My hard-on wasn’t going away without a fight, so I checked my watch. It was almost six o’clock, early by California standards, but late as far as my body was concerned. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, so I decided to go for a run instead.
Christy was still asleep when I eventually returned to the bedroom. I thought about waking her so she could return to her own room, but we weren’t really in danger of getting caught. I quietly pulled on my running clothes instead. Then I slipped into the hallway and came face to face with her mother. My heart leapt into my throat, although I controlled my expression and pulled the door closed behind me. Anne noticed but didn’t say
anything.
“Morning,” I said, deliberately casual.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Just okay,” I admitted. “Up early and a little hungover, but I’ll survive.
You?”
“The same. Only, I don’t get hangovers.”
“Neither does Christy,” I said as we headed toward the kitchen. “You’re lucky.”
“I suppose. We also have to eat twice as often as most people.”
“So it’s a trade-off.”
“Mmm hmm. Would you like breakfast? Toast and juice?”
“No, but thanks. Just some water before I head out.”
“All right, dear.”
I had the sense that she wanted to say something else, but she merely smiled and started making breakfast for herself. I filled a glass with water and leaned against the counter to drink it.
“I’ll probably be gone when you return,” Anne said. “But I’ll be home by the time Brooke gets here to pick you up. I’ll be gone again when you return from the beach. I have a function this evening. I’ll be home late, around ten.”
I nodded slowly and wondered if she knew what we were planning.
Probably, I decided. After all, she’d just given us fair warning not to get caught. Then I wondered how much she’d orchestrated things so Christy and I would have some time to ourselves. Was she going to early Mass because of us? Had she let Harold go on his inspection tour for the same reason?
She looked at me out of the corner of her eye, and I knew the answers: yes and yes.
“Christy gets her insight from you,” I said after a moment, “doesn’t she.”
“How do you mean?”
“She sees and understands a lot more than she lets on. That’s what you do.”
Anne thought for a moment before she said, “I’m surprised you noticed.
It took Harold years.”
“He’s more traditional than I am. Besides, he didn’t have my advantages.”
“No, I suppose he didn’t.”
I surprised us both and said, “I’m going to marry her, you know.”
“Shouldn’t you ask her first?”
“I will. When I’m ready. But I wanted you to know.”
“Why me? Why not her father?”
I chuckled. “He doesn’t need to know. Not about this.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“You know.”
She searched for an appropriate reply. In the end, she decided on the truth. “I suppose you’re right.”
“And I think you approve.”
She stopped what she was doing and turned to face me. She looked at me for a long time without speaking.
“I love her,” I said at last. “And she loves me.” I left the rest unspoken, but she knew exactly what I meant. We gazed at each other in silence for a long time, and I eventually realized that she had more patience than I did, probably by an order of magnitude. I conceded and said, “I bet you never thought you’d have this conversation.”
“No,” she said primly, but with good grace.
“If it makes you feel any better, neither did I.”
“I know, dear. Just… be good to her.”
“I will.”
I returned from my run and felt almost normal. My headache was mostly gone and my appetite had returned. Even better, Anne had left me a couple of pieces of toast and a glass of orange juice, along with a note. I made the mistake of taking a drink as I picked up the note, which read, You’ll need your strength.
I spewed orange juice through my nose.
“Holy crap,” I gasped when I finally stopped coughing, “she’s trying to kill me.”
I blew my nose into a paper towel, and the sting of the juice was enough to make my eyes water. I gave up on breakfast at that point and cleaned up the mess instead. Then I spent several minutes pondering what I wanted to do. I reminded myself that Anne wanted me to sleep with her daughter,
although perhaps “wanted” wasn’t the right word. She was simply a realist.
Still, she’d given us her tacit approval.
I half-expected to find my bed empty, but Christy was right where I’d left her. She stirred and made an effort to wake up as I pulled off my clothes. I slid into bed behind her. She arched her back and stretched with her usual squeak.
“Your mom left while I was gone,” I said quietly. “We have the house to ourselves.”
“Mmm.”
“Are you in the mood to fool around?”
“I was in the mood last night,” she mumbled.
“Fair enough. I’m sorry I surprised you like that.”
“I’ll be okay. Besides, I’m here, aren’t I?”
“So you’re feeling better about… um… ‘things’?”
“For the record,” she said as she rolled toward me, “the word ‘things’ is a major understatement. But yes, I’m feeling much better about… ‘things.’”