Bradley

Six Years Later

 

The minute I turn the keys in the lock, it’s yanked open, leaving the keys to dangle there. “Luke found my treasure chest.” My wife of six years looks at me with a half mortified, half annoyed expression on her beautiful face.

“How do you know?” I walk in, shrugging off my jacket while I try to calm her down.

“I found my pink butt plugs on your chess board!”

I try not to laugh at the image of this in my mind.

“Apparently, he wanted to teach Abigail. Why he couldn’t use the real chess pieces is a mystery.” She huffs out exasperatedly.

I smile just thinking of our five-year-old son, Luke, who is a chip off the old block, and our little three-year-old princess, Abigail, who is the spitting image of her mother, God help me. He thinks she is the best thing since candy, and she thinks he hangs the stars.

“Love, it can’t be that bad,” I say as I pull her to me, my face right up in hers before I kiss her lips softly.

“He drew a face on the big one and then said king me. It’s bad, Bradley.”

I laugh at the image of him running around the house yelling ‘king me’ with Lexi’s beloved butt plug, now with a smiley face, in hand. We moved back to London as soon as Luke was born. It was important to both of us that they grew up back home.

It was a bit of a change for my city girl, but we’ve settled into our version of domestic bliss. She’s finally learned how to drive again, so now she is always on the go.

Plus, we visit the States at least twice a year, so the kids get a taste of the US while they visit their uncle Sterling, aunt Camryn, and auntie Mely. There is no ocean big enough to keep Lexi and Melanie apart. They must Facetime at least fifteen times a day, if not more. There has even been a few occasions where we had our dinner while the phone rested against a bowl so she could eat her lunch with us. The kids are so used to it they don’t even think anything of it.

They love going to visit, but love coming home more.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Luke runs in the house, stopping to kick his shoes off at the back door. “Mum took away Abigail’s chess pieces!” He runs right up to me, throwing himself into my waiting arms.

I pick him up, kissing him on his cheek. While he may be just like me, he has Lexi’s eyes.

“Did she, now?” I pretend I don’t know exactly what happened.

“Yes.” He nods while glancing sideways at his mother, who is standing there holding Abigail in her arms.

Abigail’s head is nestled on Lexi’s neck. My ginger-haired daughter is the apple of her mother’s eyes. She came into the world screaming and hollering and demanding to be heard, and she hasn’t stopped that since. If there is mischief to be had, you will find Abigail right there in the thick of it.

“She no fair,” Abigail says, her eyes glancing up at her mom, while her head still lays on her shoulder. “Is pink, is mine.” My daughter loves the color pink in all its shades. I don’t think she owns any clothing in any other color, and if she does, she doesn’t wear it.

“Not everything pink is yours, Abbi,” Lexi tells her as she kisses her head. “Now tell Daddy what you guys did after I took away the pink toys.”

She looks at both children, while Abigail’s eyes close and she snuggles in closer to her mum. Luke looks down at his fingers that are twisting together in a most uncomfortable looking way. “Go on, you two, tell your father.”

Luke speaks up first, “We ran away from home.” His chubby fingers continue to twirl together. “It was me no Abby.” He always but always protects his sister, no matter what she’s done or what the punishment will be.

“They packed their bags and ran away.” Lexi tries to hide her smile. “To the tree house,” she says, looking at me. “I didn’t know until the dog started yapping at them.”

“Did you two scare Mummy?” I look at both of them and try to channel my fatherly stern voice. “That is unacceptable, not to mention very, very dangerous. What if someone took you?” It would never happen, our house is gated with security cameras everywhere. Call me old-fashioned, but my kids will not be going anywhere without us knowing about it.

“Now go wash up so we can eat.” I put Luke down while Lexi puts Abigail down. Luke grabs Abigail’s hand as they go to wash their hands.

“How long?” I ask my wife. “How long before you freaked out when you couldn’t find them?”

“Three minutes, tops. I almost called the police.” She walks over to me. “Until I checked the video. They were barely settled in the tree house when I checked it.”

“See? And you said having them was totally unnecessary.” I egg her on. When I first had them installed, she thought I was out of my mind, but she isn’t thinking that now, is she? Her eyes roll as I continue, “So, what are the chances of us using those anal plugs again?”

Her eyes glare at me. “None. I threw them out.”

I gasp out loud. “No, love! You didn’t!”

“Bradley, they had our son’s drawn smiley faces on them. I most certainly did throw them away.” She shrugs her shoulders, leaning into me as she adds, “But I also got the new ones that we ordered today, and the chances of us using them are very, very good.” She smiles at me and winks.

“Cheeky,” I tell her as my lips come down on hers.

 

The Bloody End