Riker

It was a week before Christmas, and the small town looked like the Las Vegas strip with all the lights. I could tell that even Jonas was excited. He’d never had a lot of Christmas kinds of things around while he was growing up, and I was happy that he could experience it at least once. He was becoming more mature, and it wouldn’t be long before it was time for him to move on and begin his life alone. My job was almost done. He’d been a little rough to deal with at first, but as the rhythm of life in Chesterton set in, our relationship had grown less confrontational. I think in some ways he dreaded the day when he would be set free. It was part of my job to make sure he was prepared for that, so he wouldn’t fall back into old ways.

I made a half-assed attempt at decorating the house. It seemed to be what you did when you owned a Victorian. Jonas complained a little, but he soon got into the spirit and it wasn’t long before I heard him on the roof, stapling in strings of lights. They had a Christmas parade downtown, and there was a competition for house decorations. We didn’t take first place, but we did take third and I made sure that Jonas got the little light bulb trophy. He seemed to get a real kick out of it.

Lacy and I were spending quite a bit of time together. I took her to dinner a few times at a little Italian restaurant that we had begun to consider “our place,” and she cooked for me from time to time in her little cottage kitchen. Life had settled down into a predictable pace, and although we were both quite busy, we looked forward to the dates we shared. Now that my house was properly furnished, thanks to Lacy’s hard work, she spent the night with me on two separate occasions. We seemed to feed off one another’s energy, and a casual, calm, hugging experience was not something we could do. No matter how tired we were, sex always seemed to be a competition to fuck one another’s brains out. I wasn’t complaining, but neither was I sure she was ready for what lay behind the padlocked door.

We had also discovered the world of sexting. We were like a couple of teenagers, taking provocative pictures of our private parts and sending them to one another at two in the morning while lying naked in our beds. We agreed to co-masturbate, and while you might think that would take the edge off our normal sexual play, the opposite was true. As the winter sun set early, I always found myself growing hard in anticipation of being with her.

One evening we went to “our” restaurant and came home to my place instead of the cottage. We spent the night making love in our usual energetic style and ended up getting less than an hour’s sleep. We probably wouldn’t have gotten that if I hadn’t needed to get up and make Jonas breakfast.

We drove him to school and then headed for the cottage to drop her off. Her hair was disheveled and she was still wearing the clothes from the night before, which looked oddly out of place at that time of the morning. We opened the door to the cottage to find Melanie and Mrs. Pettibone waiting inside.

Mrs. Pettibone looked like a buxom Christmas tree, dressed in green and wearing large, ruby red earrings beneath her pillbox hat. Her coat was red, with a fur collar, and she was clutching a box wrapped in gold foil with a golden white bow draped over its top.

Melanie was wearing her normal miniskirt and red sweater, but the smirk on her face outshone anything she could’ve worn on her body.

“Lacy,” Mrs. Pettibone greeted her in a high-toned voice, “I thought I would surprise you and stop by with this little token of holiday cheer.” Despite her words, she held the package against herself as though now unwilling to give it up.

“Mrs. Pettibone…” Lacy stumbled through the verbal space, obviously thrown by the unexpected appearance of Her Majesty. “I wish I’d known you were coming, I would have prepared something. Won’t you step into the living room?” Lacy swept her arm in the direction, hoping Mrs. Pettibone would be gracious in the midst of the discomfort and stay for coffee.

Mrs. Pettibone was not in that kind of mood. She looked me over coldly, from the top of my tousled hair to my three-day beard, leather jacket and leather boots. I actually saw her nose turn up in disgust. “I apologize for barging in unexpectedly. Obviously, you have other things to do. I’ll be leaving now.”

“No, Mrs. Pettibone, please, don’t go. As a matter of fact, I was planning to visit you this very afternoon, after I called for permission, of course.” Lacy was doing her best to be properly submissive, but in doing so she had called attention to Mrs. Pettibone’s own faux pas. Things were going from bad to worse. I decided it was time for me to leave.

“Mrs. Pettibone, it was a pleasure to meet you,” I said, despite the fact that we had never actually been introduced. “Lacy, I’ll talk with you this evening, and Melanie, I hope you have a pleasant day.” With that, I took my leave before the fireworks began. I’d heard quite a bit about Mrs. Pettibone, and I was sure that Melanie was looking forward to the show. I knew with certainty that Lacy was in trouble as soon as the old witch saw the tattoos on my neck—and I also knew that staying to back her up would only make things worse. I would be there to pick up the pieces later in the day.