Chapter Twenty-Seven – NOW

 

“I collected the mail, Liv, it’s on the counter,” Celia says, as she continues sweeping the floor.

“Cel, you don’t have to do that.  Go sit down and rest.”

“Sweet girl, it’s been almost six months since my heart attack.  It’s time enough you stopped worrying so much,” she tuts at me. 

She’s right.  It has been nearly six months since her heart attack.  Six months since Kyle and I started seeing each other.  Six months of stolen kisses and sweet touches whenever Matilda isn’t looking. Six months of Celia practically pushing me out the door on weekly dates with Kyle – pushing me, not because I don’t want to go on a date with him, but because I don’t want to keep asking Celia to watch Matilda. Of course she doesn’t mind, but I always feel bad for asking – I think it’s a mom thing.  Kyle comes by most nights and occasionally he’ll stay over, but that doesn’t happen often, though.  We chill out, watch movies, snack on chocolate and Skittles, laugh, and sometimes hold hands under a blanket.  It’s almost like we’re teenagers again, but instead of sneaking around our parents, we’re sneaking around my daughter.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been leaning more and more toward telling her.  I think it’s time.  I know Kyle wants to, but he’s been respectful of my hesitation.  But I’m confident now is the time.  I didn’t want to rush into things and tell Matilda, and then things didn’t work out between Kyle and me.  But over the past six months, my affection for him has only grown deeper.  He has been considerate of me wanting to take things slowly, to gradually take things forward, so that’s what we have done.  He’s spent the same amount of time at my place as he was before we started dating, only now, we get the added benefits of kissing and more. 

So, maybe this weekend when Kyle takes Celia, Matilda, and me to his lake cabin, we can sit down together and tell Matilda.

I move to the counter and flick through the mail.  Bills, bills, junk mail.  I come to the last envelope and open it up.  Inside is an invitation, written in fancy calligraphy on textured recycled paper.

 

Dear Olivia, Kyle, Matilda, and Celia,

You’re invited to celebrate the 40th wedding anniversary of

Martin and Sonia Blakely

Marriott Hotel, Niagara Falls

December 12

 

“That looks pretty.  Who’s getting married?” Celia asks as she comes to stand beside me, a dishtowel is thrown over her shoulder.

“No wedding.  My parents are having an anniversary party.  Forty years.”  A hearty yawn escapes me. I look over to Celia, muttering, ”Sorry, so tired”.

“Well, that sounds lovely.  Oh, Niagara Falls.  How beautiful.”

“We’re all invited,” I tell her.  “It’s in December, which isn’t too far away, so I better remember to mention it to Kyle tonight.”  I make a mental note, otherwise I’m likely to forget.  I told my parents I was dating Kyle about three months ago during one of Skype calls.  To be honest, they took it better than I expected.

“It’s not just you anymore, Liv. You’ve got a little girl who will be heartbroken if things don’t work out.”

“I know that, Mom, and believe me when I say, Matilda is and always will be the main priority in my life.  I’ll do anything to have her not feel pain.”  I’m a little affronted by my mother’s words.  Does she think I’d really put my daughter’s happiness in jeopardy?  Or that I don’t consider Matilda’s feelings in all of this?

“I understand that, Liv, but I just want you to be certain.  It’s not healthy to have men coming and going from her life.”

“And men haven’t been coming and going!  Matilda doesn’t even know about Kyle and I, and I’ve never, not once, since Brant died, been out with a guy besides Kyle.  And that only happened within the last few months.”

“Okay, well as long as you’re happy, and you’re sure, and being smart, then I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

 

The timer on the oven dings and Celia goes to it, pulling out a perfectly cooked chocolate cake.

“Dessert,” she tells me.

“Smells and looks great.  I’m going to check on Matilda and then maybe get a head start on packing for the weekend.”

My daughter is sitting on her cream carpeted bedroom floor, playing with a Barbie doll, a teddy bear, and two Shopkins toys.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Hey, Momma.”  She goes right back to her game.

“You can play for fifteen more minutes, then it’s shower time, okay?”

“Okay,” she chirps happily.

She’s such a great kid.  I really got lucky when she chose me to be her mom.

“I love you, kid,” I tell her.

She looks up from her game, her blue eyes shining, her blonde hair tumbling over her flawless face.  “Love you, Momma.”

 

In my bedroom, I take out my suitcase and put it on the bed.  Then I sit down beside it and think about what I’m going to pack for our weekend away. It’s October and the days are relatively nice, but the nights are getting colder.  Rather than pack, I decide to text Kyle.  We haven’t seen him for the past four days, since he’s currently at the Academy for Hell Week with a group of new recruits, but he texts or calls every night and sometimes in the morning.

Liv: Hi honey.  Thinking of you xx

I’m surprised when he replies right away.  I wasn’t expecting a response until late tonight.

Kyle: Hey beautiful. Miss you

Liv: How’re things going at the academy?

Liv: Oh! Before I forget, my parents invited us to their wedding anniversary on December 12, in Niagara Falls.

Kyle: Hectic as usual.  Got a good group of recruits, though.  A few of them are tough as nails.  Niagara Falls sounds good.  I’ll put in for leave.

Liv: That’s great! I hope they all finish.  Okay, I’ll put in for leave, too.

Kyle: Of the 30, 17 have quit, but the remaining 13 are looking promising.

Liv: That’s good news. I can’t wait until you come home.

Kyle: Miss me?

Liv: Hell yes!

Kyle: What parts of me do you miss exactly

Liv: Hmm…

Kyle: Don’t be shy ;)

Liv: I miss EVERY part of you.  Especially a particularly HARD part…

Kyle: He misses you too, baby.  I’ll call you tonight at ten.  Be in bed. Naked and wet.

Liv: Okay xx

I clench my legs together.  His words stir the ache deep inside me and suddenly, the next four hours can’t pass quick enough.  To pass the time, I start sorting through my clothes to pack, then I bathe Matilda and we eat the casserole Celia made today.  We have the cake for dessert and I read Matilda a bedtime story.  Then I take my time in the shower until it’s finally almost ten o’clock.

I turn all the lights off and check in on Matilda to see that she’s sound asleep.  In the bed across from hers, Celia is also snoring softly, so I move through the house, turning all the lights off before closing my bedroom door and climbing into bed.  I idly browse through my Facebook newsfeed until my phone starts buzzing with an incoming call.

“Hi,” I say into the phone, a smile on my face, and singsong lilt in my tone.

“Baby,” he rasps in that husky way of his.  “God, fuck, missed the sound of your voice.”

“I miss you, too.  Three more days.”

“Three more days,” he confirms.  “Did you follow my instructions?” There’s an underlying warning cadence in his voice when he asks the question and my clit pulses.

“Yes,” I whisper. 

He groans and I hear the distinct sound of his zipper being undone. 

“Is your pussy wet, baby?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good girl.   My cock is so fucking hard for you right now.”  I hear him hiss and my free hand instantly goes to my taut nipples.  “Touch your tits, babe.  Are your nipples hard?” 

I make a whimpered sound.

“Play with them.  Pretend it’s my tongue, swirling around, nipping those sweet little buds until they’re aching.”

“Jesus,” I breathe.

“Now spread your thighs, Liv.  Nice and wide, baby.  Put your fingers on your cunt.  Rub through your folds, but don’t go inside yet.  Tell me how wet you are,” he orders.

I whimper as my fingers skate over my clit.  “I’m wet.  So wet.”

“You aching, baby?”

“Yes,” I whimper.

“Mm,” he groans.  “That sweet little clit of yours swollen?”

“God, yes.”

“Push two fingers inside.  Tell me how it feels.”

I do as he says, shuddering when I enter myself.  “Warm,” I whisper.  “And tight.  Wet,” I add on a moan as I begin to slowly fuck myself.

He exhales heavily.  “Fuck, I miss your cunt.  Use your thumb on your clit and keep fucking yourself, baby.  Can you balance the phone on a pillow or something?”

I wedge my cell between my ear and pillow.  “Yes.”

“Good, now use your free hand to work your tight little nipples.  Squeeze them.  Twist them a little, just like I would if I was there.”

God, it feels so good.

My breath hitches.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

“Yes.  Oh, yes.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs.  “Keep those fingers moving in and out.  Nice and steady.  Keep your thumb on your clit.”

“Are you touching yourself, too?” I pant, working my fingers faster.

“Fuck yeah, I am.  I’m wishing I could sink inside that tight pussy of yours,” he groans.  “Are you close, baby?”

“Yes,” I gasp, rubbing my clit faster.  My breath begins to shallow and whimpers escape my lips as my body coils tighter and tighter.

“Come all over your hand for me, Liv.  Let me hear you moan.”

I let go, arching off the bed, my ear coming away from the phone, as I softly cry out, shuddering and pulsing around my fingers.  I grab the phone and bring it to my ear just in time to hear his throaty groan as he comes.

Oh, that sound…

“That was fun,” I say lightly as I wipe my hands on a tissue.

“Fuck yeah, it was.”  He chuckles.  “But nothing beats being inside you.”

“I better let you get to sleep,” I murmur, wishing he didn’t have to go yet, but knowing his days are physical and he needs the rest.

“Not going to sleep yet, babe,” he tells me.  “Got a night training exercise tonight, so I’ll probably get to crash at four a.m., if everything goes smoothly.”

“Oh, wow, you’re going to be exhausted,” I note with concern.

“Nah, I’ll be okay.  I managed to get a couple hours in earlier.”

“Well, be careful.”

“Always.  I’ll text you tomorrow,” he says.

A vein of silence fills the line.  My heart begins to beat rapidly and my throat contracts.  The words tingle on the edge of my tongue.

“Kyle?” I croak.

“Right here, babe.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he mutters.  “Love you, too, beautiful.”

With a smile on my face, I end the call and sink back into my bed, utterly content.