The clock says it’s three in the morning. After rubbing the crust from the corner of my eyes, I scan the dark room knowing nothing is moving. Beside me, Miranda has this smooth, low-humming snore. It’s actually cute, nothing like how loud I can get. I’d deny it if she hadn’t recorded me and played it back as proof.
Maybe I’m different from other people, but when an idea pops in my head I need to pursue it immediately or I’ll forget.
First, I need to share my thoughts with my wife to get her approval. Writing about some topics could be off limits, especially when I’m leaving this for my children and the rest of the family after I’m gone.
She’s going to be irritated that I’ve woken her, so I have to do it gracefully. At first I drag my finger through a patch of hair that’s blocking half of her face. Her nose scrunches, but she’s doesn’t stir. Then I decide to just go with it even if she slaps me. I take a piece of her hair and use the end to tickle her nose. Her hand comes up and swats it away. It’s impossible to keep from laughing, so I turn my head to prevent from being loud.
Repeating the same process, her hair tickling the right nostril, she rolls over with her face in the pillow. This time I have to change up the strategy of my plan. I take another lock of hair and shove it into her ear, circling it around. She snorts in her sleep and mumbles something that makes no sense in the English language.
One thing my wife hates is a wet willy. Drawing up the saliva in my mouth, I bring my face down close to her ear, but hesitate. Preparing for the repercussions needs to be well thought out, or else I’ll end up with a sore jaw. Even at her age, I know better than to mess with my wife without paybacks. She’s the only person who can handle me.
Throwing caution to the wind, because I’m going to forget the whole point to waking her up if I don’t do it soon, I bring my tongue down and lick up her entire cheek. Before I’m able to pull back, her eyes fleet open. I’ve awaken the monster and she’s about to unleash the kraken on my ass.
My hands go up in the air and I back away before she’s able to strangle me. She’s wiping her wet face when our eyes meet. “Ty, what the hell?”
She swats me and I back away with a chuckle. “I need to tell you something, babe. You wouldn’t wake up.”
“What’s wrong? Is it your father?” She starts to get up in a panic, until I grab her to keep her in bed. “No. Dad’s fine. Everyone is okay.”
“So then why did you lick me?”
Shrugging, the grin plastered across my face shows my guilt. “You smelled good for starters.”
She growls and throws her head back down on her pillow. “That better not be the real reason.”
“I woke up with a memory I want to include in my Memoir.”
“And you think you needed to wake me up? Can’t I just read it later?”
“It’s about me and Van.”
She sighs. I can tell she’s not in the mood the discuss this, but she gives me an answer anyway. “Ty, I don’t give a shit what you put in that book. If it lets me sleep without being licked, go for it.”
“I thought you liked it when I licked you.”
She places both palms over her face. “Oh, for shit’s sake. Call Van and ask her. Just let me go back to sleep, or else!”
Her threat was heard and taken into consideration. I grab my cell off the nightstand and walk out of the room with my balls still attached. I know who wears the pants in this family, and it’s not me, at least not at the moment.
I’m still laughing it off when the phone connects and begins to ring. I get her voicemail, but leaving a message isn’t enough. I’m not going to waste my time writing it, if she’s going to get pissed I included it.
I dial Colt instead. He’s a light sleeper and at this hour he’s liable to think it’s an emergency and worry if he doesn’t answer.
“Hello?” His voice is hoarse.
“Hey, dude, what’s up?”
“Something better be on fire or wrong for you to be calling me at this hour.”
“I need to talk to Van?”
“Why? Is it the kids? Your dad?”
“No. Damn. Why does there have to be a problem?”
“Because no one in their right mind calls people in the middle of the night to shoot the shit.”
“Like I said, I need to talk to Van.”
“She’s sleeping and I ain’t waking her for your ass.”
“Fine, then you’ll just have to read about us in my memoir. Don’t get your panties in a bunch, it’s an old story about our lustful romps. Back before you stole her.”
“I’m hanging up now, asshole.”
In the background of the call I hear Van’s voice. “Who is it?”
Colt answers her. “Who else is an asshole?”
“Ty? Give me the phone. I’ll get rid of him.”
It hurts my ego, but only for a second. The fact that they’re now both awake sort of amuses me.
“What do you want?” Van also sounds groggy. What is with people needing time to wake up? Wasn’t the phone ringing enough to jerk them into awareness?
“I need your permission to write about a memory of us.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? I’m hanging up now.”
“Okay, but I’m doing it. Don’t be pissed later on.”
“Goodbye, Ty.”
“Hello?” The line goes silent. I look at my phone and see that the call has ended.
“Jerks,” I say out loud.
When I go back in the bedroom to find my laptop, Miranda has cocooned herself in all the covers, leaving none for me. It’s my punishment.
After getting the device and my pillow, I head back out to the living room. It’s time for some coffee. This is going to be a good one.