Chapter 98: Mama G vs. Marchie

Tuesday night, Sam called me, laughing hysterically for a change. It was good to hear her laugh, after all the shit of the last few days.

"Hey girl!" I said. “You sound great. What’s going on?"

Sam hooted. "Not getting so annoyed at Pauline so much today," she said. "She got sicced on Marchie."

“What the hell happened?” I couldn’t imagine what that must have been like. But I didn’t have to. Sam told me.

* * * * *

Mid-morning, the doorbell rang and Sam groaned. She wanted to be able to answer the door in her own house, but she knew Pauline would have a fit if she got up, so she just yelled. "PAULINE! DOOR!" With a little self-satisfied smile, she watched the older woman bustle to the door.

"You know," she said, "This is why I gave you the walkie-talkie," she said, as she passed the doorway to the sunroom.

"Sorry!" Sam said with a smile, not at all sorry.

Pauline rolled her eyes and opened the door. "Yes?" she said, shocked to find a foppy little man standing there. He couldn't have been more than 5'6" and he didn't weigh 120 pounds soaking wet. He had longish hair tied back in ponytail, and wire-rimmed glasses showcasing extraordinary gray-green eyes, and was almost pretty.

"I need to see Mr. Jon," he said loudly. He looked over Pauline's shoulder, and tried to push past her. Sam heard him and groaned. She did not want to deal with Marchie today. She started toward the door, but stopped by the staircase when she heard Pauline talking.

Pauline had stopped him with an arm across the doorway. "And just who might you be?" she asked.

Marcelli was taken aback. "Of course, I am Marcelli," he said, clearly insulted.

"How nice for you," Pauline said. "Can I help you with something?"

"I am Mr. Jon's landscape artist," he said haughtily, "and must see him right away."

"I'm afraid he's indisposed at the moment," Pauline said in an equally haughty tone, and Sam choked back a chuckle. She settled on the stairs to listen to the show.

"Mr. Jon will want to see me," Marcelli insisted.

"Oh? And why is that?"

He hesitated. "Because I have important news to share with him," he said in a conspiratorial tone.

Pauline noticed something off about Marcelli, but she couldn't put her finger on just what it was.

"That's wonderful," Pauline agreed, "but he really can't see you right now." Marcelli looked more disappointed than she thought he should have. "Can Sam help you?" Pauline asked.

He sighed. "No, only Mr. Jon can help me," he said dramatically.

God, Sam thought from her perch on the stairs, he sounded like a love-struck teenager. Pauline's eyes widened as she grasped what was going on.

"Oh," she said, lowering her voice. "You're having an affair with Jon then? I didn't think he was that way."

Sam bit her fist to keep the laughter at bay. Why didn't she ever think to say that to him?

Marcelli blushed. "He isn't!" he exclaimed a little too quickly. "I just have a question about the schedule," he stammered.

"Then why can't Sam help you?" Pauline asked, tilting her head to one side, which Sam knew by now meant that she was being sarcastic. Marcelli didn't have an answer for that, so Pauline just rolled on. "Sam's taking a nap right now, anyway, so why don't you leave the schedule details with me, and I'll have her go over them when she wakes up."

"Well, I don't have any… I just wanted…" Marcelli was still having trouble.

Pauline clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Oh, I know, it's a disappointment that Jon isn't here, but surely you have other famous clients you're working with? You must know they can't be accessible all the time."

"Well," Marcelli admitted, "I currently have nobody as famous as Mr. Jon. Richer, sure, but not more famous."

"This will be quite an accomplishment for you then when it's all done!" Pauline gushed. "I bet it will look gorgeous in the spring when everything starts to bloom, and his friends will all be impressed, and it's sure to be photographed."

"It won't be finished until early summer," Marcelli answered.

"Oh, that's too bad," Pauline said, pulling a disappointed face that Sam had memorized by now. "I'll bet he'd love to entertain next month, and show off your work."

"He would?"

"Well sure!" Pauline said. "He certainly can't entertain as much once the baby comes, and May is the perfect time to showcase your work! People are just gearing up for their summer gardens, and yours would be the first one ready. It would set the standard for the whole neighborhood."

Marcelli thought about that for a moment. "Ah, it is impossible," he said.

"Oh, that's right," Pauline said. "You have other clients that are more important."

"Mr. Jon is my most important client!" Marcelli insisted.

Pauline flapped a hand at him. "I'm sure you tell all your clients that."

"No, no!" Marcelli said. "Really. He is the most important and most visible client I have right now, and this is by far the largest project."

"And you only have four men working on it?" Pauline shook her head. "Wow." She sighed. "In any event, what is the message for Sam?"

Marcelli straightened to his full, unimposing height, and squared his shoulders. "Tell Mrs. Sam that she will have her spring garden."

"She will?" Pauline asked, her voice laced with wonder.

"She will," Marcelli confirmed. "I will bring a second crew, and this will be the most beautiful creation I have ever done."

"That's wonderful," Pauline beamed. "They will be so pleased. Bye, now," she said, and closed the door.

* * * * *
I was laughing so hard tears were steaming down my face. “That’s priceless.”

“Jon thought it was hysterical,” Sam answered.

“Which part?” I asked. “The part where Marchie backpedaled or when he pictured my mother asking Marchie if Jon was gay?”

“The whole thing.” Sam was chuckling too.

"So, how are you two getting along?"

"I taught her how to make sweet tea, and we’re still not seeing eye-to-eye, but it’s OK."

"Are you saying she's not quite the pain in the ass she was yesterday?"

"On hell no," Sam said, "but today she asked me what I wanted for lunch instead of telling me, so maybe she's learning."

“Maybe,” I agreed. “Or else she’s lulling you into a false sense of security before she *gasp* hugs you again!”

“Fuck you, Hath,” Sam said, laughing.

“No thanks, I prefer men,” I answered. We had a good chuckle before signing off. I’m so glad things are getting better.

Chapter 97: Hath's Parents Settle In

Ang arrived on Hath’s doorstep late the next morning with three suitcases and a smile.

“Ang!” Hath exclaimed, wrapping her friend in a hug. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come to get you.”

“Aw, I didn’t want to bother you. Who’s that?” she asked, looking over Hath’s shoulder.

“That is my father. Ang, my dad, John Gengras. Daddy, this is Angel Jamieson, fresh from the UK.”

Hath’s father was surprised that Ang was nearly as tall as he was, and she was in sneakers. “Nice to meetcha,” he said, putting out his hand.

Ang laughed. “Nice to meet you too, Dad,” she said, and launched herself at him. John was not really a touchy-feely kind of person, unlike his wife and daughter. He awkwardly patted her shoulders. Ang laughed and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek.

Ang and Hath played catch-up, then Ang spent a part of the afternoon getting settled in her room. Once she had her stuff put away, she sauntered down to the kitchen, looking for a snack. She found John sitting there with a beer and the newspaper.

“Hey,” she said, and stuck her nose in the fridge. She came out with a plate of cold cuts. “You want a sandwich?” she asked him.

“I could eat,” he said, putting the paper aside. “So, England, huh? That’s a long flight.”

“Not that bad,” she said, making two thick sandwiches.

John looked at her and went to the fridge, and came out with mustard and pickles and put them on the table. “So, what do you do there?”

“Ah, I own a pub,” she answered. “Was my dear ol’ dad’s and now it’s mine. Love the place,” she said.

“You got darts at your pub?”

“Hell yeah, what do you think? Pool, too.”

John’s eyes widened. “You seen David’s setup?”

Ang’s eyes gleamed. “No, I haven’t. Let’s take our snack for a walk, why don’t we?”

They went down to David’s game room. “Jee-zuz,” Ang said. She took in David’s mahogany table, and ran her hand along the rails. “This is gorgeous.”

“That it is,” John agreed. “Ladies first?”

Ang just smiled. “You’re on.”

* * * * *

Hath was trying to relax when her phone rang.

“Lo?”

“Hath, she’s driving me nuts.”

“Hey Sam. Again? What she done today?”

“Just the constant, I don’t know…”

“Mothering?” Hath smiled. Sometimes she forgot that she had more than 35 years to get used to her mother’s brand of love. It was in your face and you never for a moment doubted it was there.

“She hugged me this morning.” That was all she said.

“Okay-y-y-y, and that was bad because…”

Sam sighed, clearly exasperated that Hath didn’t get it. “She’s annoying as shit, sorry, Hath, and just when I’m getting a good mad up, she comes in with a hug or a little pat or something else that makes me feel like an ass for getting mad!”

“It’s called ‘survival’ Sam. Mom’s not an idiot. She knows you don’t like her. Well, she knows you don’t want anyone in your house but you, at any rate.”

“I don’t hate her,” Sam said, feeling a little bad.

Hath chuckled. “I’m glad for that, but still, she can sense you’re not happy. She’s not going to leave; she’s not a quitter. She’s just going to try different things until you stop being – erm…”

Now Sam chuckled. “Churlish? Angry? Petty?”

“Your words, Sam, not mine,” Hath said with a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. The women in this family have thick skin. And a stubborn streak that makes a mule look amiable. I’m sure you resemble that remark.” Sam laughed. “So,” Hath continued, “you’re gonna have conflict. She’s just trying to diffuse it differently than you, that’s all.”

Sam sighed. “Okay. Ugh. Alright, I have to go. You can bet I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Sam.”

Hath went looking for her father and friend, and found them in the nursery. “What’re you guys doing?”

John answered, “We were thinking about doing the nursery for you while David was away.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Ang said. “We know we’ll do it right,” she added smugly.

“I already talked to David about it,” John said, and Hath nearly fell down.

“You what?” Hath shook her head. Her father hated the phone. In fact, he hadn’t voluntarily made a phone call to someone other than family in the last 25 years.

John shrugged. “I called him earlier, and told him Ang was here, and we wanted to do this for you. He was really quite wiling to let us do the painting. He said to say he’d call you later, by the way. So, what do you say?”

All Hath could do was nod. Ang and John smiled, and started chattering about what they wanted to do. Shaking her head, she went back downstairs. Her dad. Making a voluntary phone call. Will wonders never cease.



Later that evening, Hath was online, and Sam was not happy. “Your mom came in here 30 minutes ago while I was watching ‘Old Christine’,” she typed, “and told me it was time for lights out. I put my foot down and said I was watching my show...it was the season finale. She told me fine. I had to go to sleep when it went off. So...when she came in here to check on me a few minutes ago I acted like I was asleep and let her turn off the TV.”

Hath had to laugh at the thought of Sam, a high-powered attorney, hiding from her mother. She remembered doing the same thing when she was a kid. As if Sam could read her thoughts, she fired off another message. “Geez, I feel like a freakin' teenager again! When she told me it was time for lights out...I said...fine...turn the dayum lights out. I can watch TV in the dark. She didn't take too kindly to that. Ask me if I care.”

Hath sighed. “Sam,” she typed back, fingers flying, “she doesn't care how old you are. Shit, I'm 37 and she still expects a phone call when I get back from a trip. To her, we're all just little kids. Ask her to ease up a bit. Tell her you're not used to it, and it makes you uncomfortable. She really is quite reasonable. Well, sometimes.” Hath was snickering to herself. She wished she could be there to see her mother and Sam facing off.

Sam was getting exasperated. She called Hath, and picked up the conversation where the board left off. “Hath, I tried that shit. The conversation went something like this.... ‘Pauline, you really need to give me a break. I'm not use to having someone bossing me around. It makes me very uncomfortable.’ Then your mother says, ‘But, Sam honey, I'm not bossing you around. Why would you be uncomfortable?’ Thick as a brick, she acts like. So I told her. ‘Because you're telling me when to eat, and what to eat. When to go to sleep. Hell, the only thing you haven't told me is when to shit.”

Hath burst out laughing, knowing what came next.

Sam continued, "All she had to say was ‘Samantha, language!’"

Hath got herself under control. “Really, I’ll talk to her. She doesn’t mean to be a pain in the ass, she’s just taking care of you the only way she knows how.”

“Thanks, Hath, I’d hate to kill your mother and have Marchie bury her in the garden.”

Hath laughed. “Thanks, Sam, for not murdering my mom. Besides, if you buried her in the garden, she’d haunt you. You think her in the flesh is bad? Just wait until the haunting.”

“No thanks,” Sam said, chuckling, then sighed. “I suppose I’d better get to sleep before she comes in here and demands it from me.”

“I should, too. Sam, it’ll be okay.”

“I know, I just need someone to vent to who knows what I’m going through.”

“Yeah, I certainly feel your pain. G’night, Sam.”

“Bye Hath.”

* * * * *
Ang called Hath the next day at work. “David left me a present,” she said.

“And what might that be?” She had no idea what Ang was talking about.

Ang laughed. “I'm in the process of washing ALL my damn clothes that you brought back with you. Bastard put itching powder in everything!”

Hath couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. She had to cover her mouth and nearly dropped the phone. Oh, Ang was pissed. David better watch out.

“Itching powder's a BITCH!,” she said. “I looked like Balloo out of The Jungle Book rubbing up and down the damn doorjamb!” She told Hath how the only thing she had that didn’t have itching powder all over was her pajamas. So, she was painting with my dad in her pajamas while her clothes hummed happily along in the washing machine. “Hath you're gonna be bring those babies up without a daddy!”

Hath got her laughter down to a dull roar. “Sorry, sweetie,” she told her friend. “Fiancée secret trumps girlfriend secret; he made me swear not to tell. Just be grateful he didn't do what he wanted to do with your babies.”

Ang gasped. “And what did he want to do? Or do I not want to know?”

“Let's just say, you'd have seen WAY more of my brother and his friends than you'd care to.”

“Fuck me,” Ang said.

“Yep a full gig of pictures of their asses and other parts.” Hath rolled her eyes. “Not that you’d be able to tell one from the other, but they were all up for it, stupid asses. David promised them CASES of Jack if they helped him with this prank. I said NO WAY. You’re welcome.”

Ang smiled. Hath could hear it in her voice. “I’d’ve been able to tell David. I’d recognize that ass and those thighs anywhere. Clothed or not.”

“You’re so bad,” Hath said, laughing. “Now, I need to get back to work. Hey. I just thought of something. He hasn't played a prank on me – not that I've found out anyway. Crap; I probably shouldn't have said anything.”

“Probably not,” Ang agreed. “Alright, I’ll let you go. See you when you get home.”

Chapter 96: Mama G vs. The Southern Spitfire

Sam woke to sunlight streaming through the window. She smiled and stretched, then remembered Jon had gone. And left Hath’s mom here. She lay there for a few minutes trying to get completely awake, without the benefit of coffee. Not that she wasn't sure that Pauline would be happy to bring her some. She just wasn't ready to deal with the woman yet this morning. God, how she wanted a cigarette, but she'd quit smoking, cold turkey, when she'd found out she was pregnant. Although, the coma had helped with the cold turkey part. Justin began singing from her bedside table. Jon still had the Sexy Back ringtone, but now it was a combination of two different parts of the song.

"I'm bringing sexy back (yeah), them other f*ckers don't know how to act (yeah), see these shackles baby, I'm your slave."

Sam smiled. "G'morning baby," she answered.

Jon loved the sound of her voice first thing in the morning, still husky from sleep. "Back at ya, babe. How's Pauline this morning?"

"I didn't kill her and hide her body if that's what you're asking," she answered. Although the thought did cross my mind, she added silently to herself.

"Good," he said, smiling, "I was afraid you woulda smothered her with her pillow while she slept or something." He was only half-joking. You never could tell with Sam's temper.

"But, to answer your question, I haven't seen Hitler yet this morning. I just woke up."

Jon glanced at his watch. It was almost 10:00 at home; Sam never slept this late. Maybe Pauline was doing all the right things already, if she'd gotten Sam to sleep late. "Hitler? C'mon Sam, she can't be that bad."

"Jon, that dayum woman tried to tell me just how long I could be on the computer last night! After I was defenseless and all alone with her, she told me I could only be on the computer for 20 more minutes, but then I needed to get some rest. That, I could 'play with my friends tomorrow'. Do you believe that shit?"

Actually he did believe it, but he wasn't going to tell his temperamental wife that shit. He was having a hard time imagining Sam 'defenseless' too. "Defenseless and alone? Come on, baby. You're never defenseless, not as long as you still have that razor-edged knife you call a tongue. Don't try to make me feel sorry for you and send Pauline home. We have a deal."

"I haven't forgotten we have a deal, Jon," she responded, imperiously. "I'm not reneging. But, I don't have to like it. She brought me hot tea, for fuck's sake."

Jon knew how Sam felt about hot tea. She'd more than made her feelings on the subject crystal clear. "Not with lemon?" he asked, barely controlling his laughter. She had told him that her mother always said that 'no self-respecting Southerner drinks their tea with lemon in it.'

"Fuck you, Jon."

"I wish you could, baby. Really," he said with feeling.

"God, baby, I miss you so much already," Sam told him. "So does Lyndsay," she added when she felt her daughter kick her.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked her.

"Of course. Hitler wouldn't have it any other way. But, Jon, I'm telling you right now, I'm not gonna take this shit lying down. She's not gonna run over me like a damn bulldozer. I'm gonna do whatever the hell I want to do, when I want to do it...at least, what I can do from the so-called comfort of this dayum bed. And, I'm promising you something else. We may have to get rid of this bed when this is all over, because I'm not sure I ever wanna see a dayum bed again after this."

"Whatever you want, baby. As long as you get the rest the doctor ordered. Stay off your feet," he ordered.

"Yes, Daddy," she answered sullenly.

"That's right," he told her huskily, tossing in an imitation groan, "call me 'Daddy'."

"You're impossible. Call me later. Love you," she told him.

Jon laughed. "I love you too, Sam."

She hung up the phone, and sighing dramatically, she padded to the bathroom and took care of business. She showered and dressed, and checked her blood pressure. Still elevated. She returned to her room to find Hath’s mom had made up the bed and cleared away the glasses from last night. And taken the laptop.

Fuming, she stalked to the door. “PAULINE!” she yelled.

The woman in question poked her head out of her door. “Oh, good morning, Sam. Did you sleep well?”

Either this woman was clueless or she was choosing to ignore Sam’s temper. Either way, it was pissing her off more. “Where’s my dayum laptop?”

Hath’s mom tilted her head, and mimicked Sam’s voice. “Well, Pauline, it was hard to sleep without my husband, but I managed,” she said, then switched to her normal voice. “And your damned laptop is downstairs in the sunroom. I thought you might like a change of scenery. I imagine Jon had you cooped up in this room most of the weekend.”

“Uh, yeah, he did,” Sam said.

“Not that it isn’t decorated beautifully, but I think you need some sun. Let’s get you settled downstairs then, and I’ll make you breakfast,” Pauline said, and led the way downstairs.

“I’m not hungry,” Sam said churlishly, and I don’t need any sun, she added mentally. She stalked ahead of Pauline. It was her damned house, after all. At least the older woman wasn’t trying to carry her. They went into the sunroom, and Sam saw that Pauline had set up a small table and chair near the patio doors so she could see outside. The laptop was on another table, and a light blanket was on the couch waiting for her. An assortment of books, magazines and movies were in a basket by the couch, and the radio was playing softly.

Sam sat by the window and looked outside to see Diva out doing her business, and take a drink out of the pond. Hath’s mom waited until Sam had settled into the chair, then handed her the walkie-talkie.

“Okay,” Pauline answered. “Let me know when Lyndsay would like something for breakfast,” she said, then left the room.

Sam started feeling guilty that she wasn’t feeding her baby. Realizing that a guilt trip was exactly what the older woman had been going for, Sam slapped her hand down against the table. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered under her breath, and grabbed the phone to call Hath’s cell.

“This is Hath,” she answered.

“Hath, it’s Sam.”

“Oh, how’s Mom doing? Annoying the shit out of you yet?” Hath was laughing.

“How’d you guess?”

“I have met the woman,” Hath said dryly. “What’d she do?”

Sam sighed. “She told me how long I could be on the computer last night, and this morning, moved me down to the sunroom. She’s got me ensconced in a chair by the window, and is trying to guilt me into eating breakfast. And, she brought me hot tea for Christ’s sake.”

“That bitch,” Hath said without rancor. “Look, she’s just trying to be helpful. She’s gonna do what she thinks is right until you tell her otherwise. She’s a Mom; that doesn’t change when her own chicks grow up and move away. That’s what she knows how to do. Once my brother and I came along, that was her full-time job.” Hath was thoughtful for a minute. “She thinks of you like a sister to me, which means she’s gonna mother you unless you tell her you don’t particularly want that.” She was trying to be gentle; remembering about Sam’s own mother. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to make Sam miss her own more than she already does. “And for heaven’s sake, TELL the woman you don’t like hot tea.”

“It’s not just that,” Sam said. “I don’t know how to explain it to you without getting you all pissed off at me.”

“Let me try. She came in, a virtual stranger to you, and has jumped right in mothering you without asking if you wanted or needed a mother. She’s bugging you all the time to make sure you’re comfortable, or asking if you need anything. She’s trying to anticipate what you want, and is doing things without asking. In short, she’s taking over your life, and it’s making you mad.”

Sam laughed. “Been through this before, I see?”

“Oh, she’s just getting warmed up. Just wait for the subtle guilt and unsolicited advice. You won’t even realize she’s done it for a day or two, then when it hits you – WHAM! – it’ll get you riled up again.” Hath laughed, then turned serious. “But when you’re sad or scared or just feeling like shit, she’ll be there with a quiet hug and gentle hands, and she’ll hold you until you’re all cried out.” Hath cleared her throat. “Look, if it’s not working out, and she’s pissing you off too much, I’ll bring her back here with me, and we can look for a housekeeping service or private nurse. I can guarantee, though, they won’t care about you, they’ll just care about getting a paycheck.”

Sam thought on that for a minute. “I guess I can live with the mothering, but not the bossing around.”

“Good luck with getting her to separate the two,” Hath chuckled. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, I think I can handle it,” Sam said sarcastically. “I do argue my point for a living, you know.”

Hath laughed. “Okay then. Talk to you later?”

“You bet. Bye.”

“Bye, Sam.”

Sam sighed and picked up the walkie-talkie. She felt ridiculous, but pressed the call button. “Pauline, I’d love some breakfast, if it’s not too much trouble,” she said.

“Hot or cold, dear,” Pauline asked.

“Hot,” Sam answered.

“Coming right up!”

Sam spent a few minutes watching Marchie’s men arrive to work on the landscaping. They were doing a good job, and she could see it would be beautiful when it was done. Pauline was trying to wrestle Diva back into the house and Sam laughed. This ought to be good. After a few minutes, she heard the exasperated woman shout, “Diva! Bring your ass!” and the dog heeled, and was reluctantly led into the house. Sam sat there with her chin on the floor. Diva never came to anyone when she didn't want to, not even with that command. Except for her, and more recently Jon. Maybe, getting rid of this woman wasn't going to be as easy as Sam had first thought.

Sam heard Diva’s nails on the floor and called out, “In here, baby!” and Diva came trotting in, chuffed indignantly, and flopped down on the floor at Sam’s feet. The dog’s nose was pressed up against the glass, and she was watching the activity intently. When she caught sight of Marcelli, she let out a low growl.

“Easy, Deeve,” Sam said softly, and the dog quieted.

“She is very well trained,” Pauline said from the doorway. She had a tray with what looked like it should hold breakfast, but Sam couldn’t tell what was on it. It sure didn’t smell like breakfast. Pauline brought the tray over to the table and set it down gently.

“What the hell is that?”

Pauline was unflappable. “Breakfast, dear. I thought gruel and mush would be appropriate for the prisoner.” There was a twinkle in her eye, as she pointed at the oatmeal and yogurt she had brought. There was also dry toast, fruit, and tea. Hot tea.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I would have preferred eggs and bacon,” Sam said.

“I’m sure you would, but this is healthier. No salt, low cholesterol,” Pauline said. “I couldn’t find any decaf coffee, so I brought you more tea.”

Sam sighed, and looked up to the ceiling. “Sorry, I don’t like hot tea,” she said, then decided she was sounding snippy. “Can you make sweet tea?” she asked.

“I’m sure I can if you tell me how,” Pauline answered. Sam explained the process, and Pauline nodded, then took the hot tea away. “Anything else?”

“No, not right now,” Sam answered. When Pauline left the room, she grudgingly had a bite of the oatmeal, and was surprised to find it was sweet and delicious. Suddenly ravenous, she ate the whole bowl, not leaving anything for Diva to lick at. She ate most of the yogurt and fruit too, then set the yogurt cup in the floor for Diva to finish off. Her dog loved yogurt, and it was really quite entertaining to watch the huge dog try to lick the stuff out of the bottom of the container. Her tongue alone was bigger than the whole cup. She was nibbling at the toast and watching Diva chase the little cup around the room as she determinedly tried to get the last little drop of yogurt out of it, when Pauline came back in with a glass of sweet tea.

“How was breakfast,” Pauline asked.

“Surprisingly good,” Sam admitted. “How’d you get the oatmeal so sweet?”

“Maple syrup, sugar, and cinnamon.” She winked at Sam. “Can’t eat it otherwise, it tastes like shit.”

Sam laughed, and took the tea from Pauline. She sipped at it, and made a face. It wasn’t quite right. “Thanks for the tea,” Sam said.

“What’s wrong with it?” Pauline asked.

“Oh, it’s just not sweet enough,” Sam answered. “That’s alright, I can drink water.”

Pauline went back to the kitchen muttering, “The hell you will,” and came back several minutes later pushing a cart with the coffee maker on it, a jug that had contained milk, but now held water, teabags, sugar, and Sam's tea jug that she'd brought with her from Arkansas. “Show me how to do it the right way,” Pauline said.

Sam was touched, and showed her how to do it properly. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, she thought. Sam firmly believed that all of the world's problems could be solved over a nice glass of iced tea, or at the very least discussed in a civilized manner. Who couldn't speak with a little touch of Southern hospitality and civility when sipping sweet tea? If only Grant and Lee had realized that most of the North and South's problems could've been solved with just a little lesson on how to make Southern sweet tea properly.

Chapter 95: Meeting Mama G

David rang the bell, and they waited. He had left his bags by the front door, and the sight of them made Hath sad. She stared at them, sightlessly until the front door opened and Jon appeared, a smile on his face. "Jeeves!" he said affectionately, then noticed Hath's mom narrowing her eyes at him. "I mean 'Hath', er, 'Jenilee'," he backpedaled.

David laughed as he came into the house. "And you were worried about Momma G being able to handle Sam." He slapped Jon on the back. "She hasn't even opened her mouth yet, and you're trying to appease her." He motioned to Hath's parents. "Jon, this is Pauline and John Gengras. Mom and Dad, this is Jon Bongiovi."

John was looking around the entryway. "Nice place you have here," he said to Jon, shaking the younger man's hand.

Jon chuckled. "Thanks; I like it," he said. He turned to Pauline, extending his hand to her, and smiling widely, making his eyes twinkle. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Gengras."

Pauline ignored the proffered hand, and hugged Jon, kissing his cheeks. "Please. Call me Pauline or," she leveled a gaze at David, "apparently 'Momma G'."

"Pauline," Jon said. "Thank you so much for dropping everything to take care of my girls." He smiled at the thought of his wife and unborn daughter. Despite what David had said about this woman's handling of him at the door, he knew that Sam would be a lot harder for her to manage. He hoped she was up to it.

Pauline just flapped a hand at him. "You're part of Hath's family," she said. "Where I grew up, family takes care of its own." Jon just smiled.

He led them into the living room, and invited them to get comfortable. "Let me tell you a little bit about Sam," he said. He talked about her work, how they met, the car accident, their wedding, and about the pregnancy. He finished by telling them about her personality. "She's an incredibly smart, opinionated, stubborn, independent woman. She is not going to be easy to keep in bed, but she has to rest."

Pauline smiled. "She sounds an awful lot like my daughter," she said. "What kind of bed rest is she on? Does she absolutely have to stay in bed?"

Jon shook his head. "No, she can shower and use the bathroom, and doesn't have to lie down all the time, but she absolutely cannot be up and about, walking around or doing anything. She has to be in bed or on the couch as much as possible. No cleaning or cooking…"

Pauline cut him off. "Don't worry about that. Hath already told me about taking care of the house as well as your wife. That's no problem. I'm more worried about her, and keeping her resting."

Jon nodded. "She knows she has to do what's right for the baby, but she's also used to doing things for herself. You can't let her bully you."

Pauline burst out laughing. A loud, full, belly laugh that was contagious. Hath looked at a puzzled Jon. "Boss, my mother has never let anyone bully her. Ever. She sure as shit isn't going to start with Sam."

"Language, Jenilee," Pauline said sharply.

"Sorry, Mom."

Jon smiled slightly. If 'Momma G' had a problem with Hath's language, she was going to have a field day with Sam's. His adorable wife swore like a sailor, and somehow, he knew that 'Momma G' was going to have Sam in rare form in no time.

"Lord have mercy, is that a horse?" Pauline exclaimed.

Jon looked up and saw that Diva had entered the room. "Uh, no Pauline, that would be Diva. My wife's dog."

"That's a really big dog," Hath's dad chimed in.

"Yeah," Jon sort of felt the need to defend the dog, "but she's really well behaved. At least for Sam. Diva, come," he commanded. The dog just stared at him from the doorway. Great. She had to show off for company. Jon rolled his eyes, then looked at Pauline. "Sorry about the language," he apologized in advance. Before the woman could ask what he meant, he used his 'daddy voice' and ordered, "Diva, bring your ass!" The dog started forward and everyone laughed. Jon quickly explained to them that the phrase he'd used was what Sam used to get the dog to come to her. He scratched the dog's ears as he talked. "She's really a good dog," he told Pauline. "She doesn't have accidents in the floor, but she won't go outside in the rain. I've seen this dog hold it for days before Sam finally shoved her out the door with the order to 'go pee'. You don't have to feed her, Sam's got an automatic dog feeder in the laundry room. Just make sure you leave the door open so she can get to it. You can put water down for her, but she probably won't drink it. She likes the goldfish flavored water of the pond better."

Pauline smiled at him. "She's really a beautiful dog. Come here, girl."

Jon rolled his eyes again when Diva walked over to the older woman. He hoped Pauline had as easy a time taming his wife. He watched as Pauline scratched Diva's ears then gave her a pat on the head. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine," Hath's mom announced to the room.

Jon went back upstairs to Sam. Hath went to sit next to her mom. “Well, what do you think so far?”

“He’s cute,” Pauline answered, and her husband rolled his eyes. “What? I’m 67 years old, not dead. I know cute when I see it.”

David burst out laughing. “Uh, Mom, Jon has a bit of a problem with the word ‘cute’.”

Pauline looked at him quizzically. “What does he prefer?”

David looked at Hath. “Don’t look at me sweetheart,” she said. “I agree with Mom, he is cute.”

David was saved by Jon coming downstairs, carrying Sam. He brought her into the living room, and settled her on the couch. Sam's eyes widened when she saw Hath and David, and two people who looked strangely familiar, though she was certain she'd never met them.

"Hath, David, what are you doing here?" Sam waited for them to come over and kiss her, bristling that she couldn't even get off the damned couch.

David answered, "We brought your new roommate," he said, indicating the older woman. "Pauline Gengras, this is Samantha Sinclair-Bongiovi. That over there is Hath's dad, John."

"Call me Pauline," Hath's mom said, sitting next to Sam and hugging her. "And don't worry about him," she said of her husband. "It's nice to meet you." She put her hand on Sam's bump. "How far along are you?"

Sam smiled. She loved talking about her daughter, and oddly didn't mind this woman touching her. "Lyndsay is about five months along," she said.

"Is she moving around yet?" Pauline asked.

"Some," Sam said. "Look, I don't know what Jon told you…"

Pauline waved her off. "He told me you need to rest, and I'm going to make sure you do. You tell me what you want to eat, and what you need to get done, and I'll take care of it. Right now, your job is to rest and take care of yourself and your daughter." She smiled sweetly. "Your husband says you are exceptional at your job," she added.

Sam blinked owlishly at Pauline. How do you argue with that?

Jon checked his watch, and looked at David. "Baby, we have to get ready to leave," he said.

David picked up Pauline's bags. "Where should these go?" he asked.

Jon looked at Sam, and said, "Across the hall from our suite, thanks." Pauline, John, and Hath followed David from the room, giving Sam and Jon a few minutes alone. They took a walking tour of the ground floor of the house, then went upstairs to put Pauline’s bags in her room.

“How do you think she’s gonna take it?” Hath asked David. “She didn’t look too thrilled at all.”

David put Pauline’s bags into her room, and enveloped Hath in a hug. “Sam would be upset at anyone coming in and taking over. Hell if it were you or Stephanie or Lucy or Ang, she’d be the same way.” David smiled. “I bet she’s just peeved because she’s not sure she can run roughshod over her mother like she would over you girls.”

“I suppose,” Hath said, unconvinced.

“Don’t worry, Hath,” Pauline said. “She and I will get along fine.”

They noisily made their way back downstairs, and saw Sam safely ensconced on Jon’s lap.

"Everything okay?" Jon asked.

Hath answered for her family. "We found the kitchen and laundry, Mom's got her stuff settled upstairs, and she's ready when you are." Hath looped an arm around her mom's waist. "Dad's just about ready to drop, so we'll leave when you guys do, unless Sam, you want us to stay a while?"

Sam looked at Hath. "Hell no, you go take care of your daddy. Your mama and I will be fine."

Hath shooed her dad toward the couch, then went to Sam and gave her a hug. "Call me if you need me, or if she gets to be too much," she said softly.

Sam laughed. "It'll be fine." She was sure could handle Hath's mom. She'd send her back to Boston in no time. Of course, since it was Hath's mom and not some stranger, she wouldn't send the woman home in tears like she had originally planned.

David looked out the window. "Looks like our ride is here," he said.

Hath went to David and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed him deeply, then broke the kiss to look at him. With tears in her eyes, she said, "I'm so gonna miss you, sweet Papa."

David wiped a tear from Hath's cheek, and rubbed it on his lips. "I'll miss you more, sexy Momma." He knelt down in front of Hath, and kissed her stomach. "Bye babies," he said softly. "Be good to your mommy." He stood and pressed another quick kiss to Hath's lips. "I'll call you when we hit the hotel," he said.

"You'd better," Hath said, smiling through her tears.

"I love you, baby," David said to her, taking her in his arms again.

"I love you more," Hath answered. "Have fun."

David pressed one last kiss to his woman's lips, and left. Hath saw him swipe at his eyes as he strode for the car. She went to go sit with her parents, and waited while Jon took Sam upstairs.

“You okay, honey?” John asked her.

Hath nodded. “Yeah, Daddy, I’m okay. It’s just hard, that’s all.”

“You knew this was his job though, right?”

Pauline slugged him in the shoulder. “Of course she knew that, you idiot.” She rolled her eyes at him, making Hath laugh.

Jon came downstairs, and came into the living room. “Well, I’m off.” He hugged Hath and gave her a peck on the cheek, then shook hands with her father. “Nice to meet you,” he said.

“Likewise,” John answered.

Jon gave Hath’s mom a hug. “Thank you Mrs. Gen—Pauline for dropping everything to come and take care of my girls. I really can’t even tell you how much this soothes my brain.”

“Anything for family,” Pauline answered. “Now go, before you’re late.”

Jon laughed, looked at Hath, then left.

“What was that all about?” Pauline asked her daughter.

“Mom, it’s his plane. It isn’t leaving without him.”

“Huh. Well, take your father home. He looks like death warmed over.”

“I just want to say goodnight to Sam first,” Hath said, and went upstairs. "I'm taking Daddy home now," she said when she got to Sam’s door. "You gonna be okay?"

Sam smiled sadly. "When it's May, and they're home again, I'll be okay."

Hath thought a minute. "We're going to Arizona and Vegas in a few weeks," she said. "Maybe if your blood pressure gets back to normal, you can come, too."

Sam shook her head. "I think that probably won't happen," she said. "But we'll see. Go take your daddy home. He looks exhausted."

"He is. Okay, we're leaving. I'll call you tomorrow," Hath said; and with a quick hug for Sam, left.

* * * * *

Sam heard Hath's mom coming. Sighing, she squared her shoulders and waited. She didn't have to wait long. Pauline came into the room with a glass of water, a cup of hot tea, and a walkie-talkie. Sam frowned at the cup of tea. She didn't like hot tea. She preferred her tea sweetened and over ice. God, she hoped this woman could make good Southern sweet tea. But, she doubted it.

"I thought you might like some tea or water," she said, as she put the tray down on the nightstand. Picking up the walkie-talkie, she handed it to Sam. "This is in case you need anything. Anything at all. I don't sleep much, so don't worry if it's the middle of the night. Call me for anything."

Sam looked at the device, and tossed it onto the bed. "Okay, sure," she said, then picked up the laptop.

"Just a little while, then you need to rest," Pauline said.

That's it, Sam thought. Time to lay down some ground rules.

"Look, Pauline," she said, "I appreciate you coming here to take care of me and the house, but really, I can take care of myself."

"I have no doubt about that," Pauline said, "but I promised my daughter I'd look after you. You know, there's no more sacred bond than that between a mother and her daughter."

"I do know that, but I'm not an invalid," she said, getting testy. Sam wasn't used to dealing with a mother figure; she'd lost her mother when she was just a teenager. Did mothers give up and go back home if they weren't your mother?

"I know that," Pauline said. "But you are under orders to rest, and that means I do as much for you as I can."

"Fine, but I know when I'm tired and need rest," Sam said.

"Yes you do, so you must know that you've got dark smudges under your eyes."

Sam was taken aback. "I do?"

Pauline clicked her tongue. "Poor thing, yes, you do." She came over and sat next to Sam. "Twenty minutes on the computer, then off to bed. You can play with your friends tomorrow." Hath's mom looked at Sam, who gave a defiant glare back. Pauline just straightened the covers on the bed like she hadn't seen Sam's glare.

It was going to be a long month.

Chapter 94: Getting On With Our Lives

Today, we're gonna go out for lunch. John and his friends left this morning, and the reporters were still out there. I must admit, it was funny to see the reporters all move closer to their cars when they loaded up in the truck. David’s proud of me for not hiding in the house, though I would be content to do so. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be cooped up in this gorgeous house with that gorgeous man? But, I am determined to not change who I am and I will not cower from a few assholes.

I’m also not going to any special effort to cover my scrapes and cuts. I've pulled my hair back into a severe ponytail, and have even pinned back my bangs. My face and forehead are completely unhidden. I have done no makeup except my eyes and lipstick, so every single cut and bruise is glaring. I've put on my brand-new maternity togs and the effect is pathetic, I'll admit, but I DARE the evil bastards to say something.

I spent some time this morning printed off copies of the photos of me from the Boston papers from last week; the headline screaming "TRAIN WRECK SURVIVORS" like there were fatalities, the sensationalist assholes. Today, no words will be passed, just papers. Around noon time, we headed outside. When the front door opened, I preceded David out. I stopped and stood there, murder in my eyes, but I contained myself. David came up behind me and put his arm around my waist. I turned my head to him and smiled. He smiled back and lowered his head to kiss me gently on the cheek.

I got a sparkle in my eye and shook my head at him. His eyes and his smile widened, and he dipped me dramatically, and mashed his mouth to mine. We went at it hot and heavy for a few minutes, until even the most jaded of the fucknuts out there were unsure whether we were going to have sex right there in front of them. It was great.

When we came up for air and straightened, David righted my clothes, and smoothed back the couple of stray hairs that had escaped their bindings. I smiled, and used the pad of my thumb to wipe lipstick from his bottom lip.

We turned to the crowd and descended the steps to the yard, still not having said a word. They clamored for attention, like yipping puppies, and I took the sheaf of papers I had printed and hurled them into the air. They fluttered down all around us, and we shouldered our way through the crowd. When we were in the car, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Are you okay?” David asked.

“That was fun,” I answered. “I kinda liked having an audience while we made out.” I winked at his expression. I thought he was going to swallow his tongue.

We went out for cheap, greasy, Chinese buffet, and the LJs were in heaven. We lingered over hot tea and talked about the wedding and the babies. We stayed away from any talk of Sam and her high blood pressure, and Richie and what this could mean to the band. We just had an enjoyable afternoon to ourselves. It was wonderful.

That night, we hung out on the board. I was PMing Lucy about the ambush yesterday, and begged her not to tell Richie. Jon knew because I bitched at him yesterday, but I didn’t want Richie to know. He had to feel badly enough as it is without this on his head. Call me a softie, but I have a little corner of my heart that will always belong to Richie.

Sam came on to say that learned she needed to stay on bed rest. That was going to kill her. She is not an inactive person. She also had no idea about what happened to Richie or about my train accident. We were all being evasive on the board, but she’s a pretty smart lady, and sorted out that we were hiding something. In a panic, I called Jon.

“’Lo?” he said.

“Jon, it’s Hath.”

“Jeeves!” he said, a smile in his voice. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine thanks, Boss. Listen,” I had a smile in my voice too, him calling me Jeeves just made me smile. “You have to talk to Sam. She knows something is up, and is getting aggravated at us.”

“Jeeves, she doesn’t need to deal with this shit now,” he said, getting irritated.

“Boss, when she finds out on her own, and she will find out, she will be beyond pissed off. I know I’m butting in, but you’ve gotta tell her before she sees it on the news or reads it in the paper.”

“Shit,” he said, and sighed. “Alright. Thanks, Jeeves.”

“Anytime, Boss. Bye.”

That done, I felt WAY better getting back on the boards. Sam ducked off to talk to Jon, and came back angry that we were holding things back from her, but sort of understanding why we did it. She asked what else we were keeping from her. Shit. I was going over to her house this week. May as well tell her. I PMd her a picture of my injuries and let her know it was on the way. She was annoyed with me, but again, knew I just had her best interest at heart.

The next morning, the front yard was remarkably empty of reporters. They’ll probably come back after the blood test results come back. I for one was glad that they were gone. I hope to hell I never have to get used to that. David and I headed to his mom’s for lunch, and when she saw the car pull in, she came out to greet us. She clucked and fussed over my cuts and scrapes, and enveloped me in a big hug. “I saw you on the local news last night,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you kept your cool.” She looked at David, leaving something unsaid.

“What?” I asked her.

She smiled. “Nothing, dear, just that April would have handled it differently. Wrongly. You were wonderful.”

We went in and had a lovely lunch, and finalized our plans for shopping. I plugged in to my wireless headset, dialed up my Mom, took David’s camera phone, and we were off. We spent the whole time laughing. It was just the best day. We went to this kitschy store that had the coolest stuff. David lamented that if we just told Tico what we wanted, he’d gladly hook us up.

David’s mom cuffed him on the back of the head. “Where is the fun in that?” she said. My mother agreed, and at her bidding, I cuffed him, too.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” he complained.

“That was from your other mother,” I said, laughing.

“Great, now there are three of you to beat on my ass.” I laughed into the phone, and David hurriedly leaned in to say, “Sorry about the language, Mom!”

David’s mother pouted. “What about me?” she said.

David rolled his eyes at his mother. “You love me more; you cut me more slack.”

We took pictures of everything and emailed them to my mom. Between the four of us, we picked out cute but sturdy, furniture two cradles, cribs, high chairs and a big comfy rocking chair with a high back, deep seat, and padded arms. It would be perfect for nursing. We made arrangements to have everything delivered, bid goodbye to the moms, and went to the local Home Depot to pick out paint.

We settled on light blue for the ceiling, and I decided I wanted puffy clouds painted on it. David, being a good sport, sat through a “sponging” class (afterwards, he said he thought the class should have been a completely different kind of sponging, ha ha). We decided on a pale gray for the walls, and brown accents, to match the furniture. We can dress it up with curtains and bedding later.

When we finally got home, I checked my messages. I had three of them, all from Jon:

“Jeeves, it’s Boss. Call me when you get this, ok? I need some advice, and I need it from you. Thanks. Bye”

“Jeeves, call me. It’s Jon. Where the hell are you, and why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“Hath, if you do not call me back, I will kill you.”

By the last message, I was in hysterics. He sounded so frantic, I knew it had to have something to do with Sam. I called him while I logged onto the board, but saw he was online so hung up. He was worried about Sam staying on bed rest while he was on the road. He knew she wouldn’t do it. I thought about it for a minute and asked him if he wanted to see if my mom would come. He was surprised, but we talked it through.

“Yeah,” I told him on the board. “My Mom. Boss, Mom just has my Dad to look after now, since my brother and I are living our own lives, and frankly, Dad's 65, and can take care of himself. Well, hang on, no, he's pretty helpless. Anyway, she can bring him along; he can stay with me while Mom takes care of Sam. They're retired, and spend their days sniping at each other and Mom'll be glad for the break. Besides, my Dad will love it here in Joker's -- erm our -- house.”

He said to see if she would really do it. I called her.

“Mom?”

“Hath, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I need to ask you a favor.”

FootballGoddess:
She's already packing up. She can be there just as soon as you want her. It'll take them an hour to get to Logan, if you want them to fly, or they can be there by 10 tonight if you want them to drive. I swear they don't mind.

The way she looks at it, you guys are my family, and you need help, and she's gonna help if you let her.

JerseyCowboy7800:
Tell ya what....

You still have my AmEx number right?

I know you do...you're....uh...let's call it...efficient...like that. Charge their flight to my card. Get them a car to your house, put that on the card too. Then I'll have someone pick her up later, before I leave. That way she can have some time at your place to check out the new digs, and the stuff you bought today. I'm not leaving until 8 tonight...so she's got plenty of time.

FootballGoddess:
Uh, sure! Yeah, I do. OK, I'm making the arrangements now.
Ummmm, 8:00 is only a few hours away...

They may not make it there until after you leave, but since you and J are travelling together, I'll just bring him by your place and hang out until the 'rents get there.

There's a flight from Logan to Newark they can get on at 6:30; they're on the way. They won't make it by 8, so if you can take a later flight, you can meet them.

JerseyCowboy7800: I
F I can take a later flight?

Please. I don't think the plane is gonna leave without me. I'll make some calls so I can leave later.

FootballGoddess:
Sorry, forgot who I was talking to for a moment, there.

JerseyCowboy7800:
Ok...things are worked out. Jeeves, if I don't leave til 10, is that enough time? I really want to meet your mom before I go. I need to meet her and see how she deals with Sam before I go. I've already had to guilt her into staying in bed today. She got up this morning to make coffee! Like I'm not capable of that.

FootballGoddess:
Kidd, it's not a matter of whether you're capable or not. It's Sam's independence. She's been doing for herself for some time now. By sending a Mom to care for her rather than a friend, she may be more apt to heed the given advice. When you talk to her, you'll see.

Leaving at 10 will be plenty of time. They'll be wheels down in NJ by 8, and I think the ride to your place isn't that far a drive. Ma will call me when she gets in, and J and I will meet them at your place. Then I can bring Dad home with me.

I sent Jon a PM, telling him that my mom would handle the reporters any way he wanted. He swore; he had forgotten all about them. He PMd me back, asking if I knew that she had offered to represent Richie. Yeah, I knew that, and asked wouldn’t that raise her stress levels?

JerseyCowboy7800:
Oh hell yeah, it'll raise her stress level. Besides, how is she supposed to defend him from bed?

I don't know if Rich agreed or not....she only told me she offered. I'd like to think he wouldn't let her because of her health...but hell, he's a big wuss! He wouldn't want to hurt her feelings either.

I gotta admit, when she told me, it shocked the hell outta me! I mean damn it all, a drunk driver almost took her away from me. I'm having a hell of a time combining that fact with my best friend driving drunk. I love Rich, and I'm concerned about him. But damn! How stupid can he be?

FootballGoddess:
Jon, it's been tough for me to keep my opinions to myself, but it's not my place to say anything, so this is the only time you're gonna hear me spout off on this.

Yeah, he did something stupid. I'm sure nobody understands that more than he does. He hasn't said anything to any of us, so I'm just guessing here, but he's the one who asked for the blood test, so he must have felt that he wasn't drunk, and is confident the test will prove that out. I pray that's the case, but that doesn't diminish the enormity of this thing he did. At the very least, Ava seeing her dad led away had to have been traumatic, and if nothing else, that's gotta be rattling around in Rich's head.

As for Sam and court, his court date isn't for a month. Her BP can be regulated by then, if she takes it easy now. That being said, "candy ass" is the phrase I like to use with Richie, but wuss works. He wouldn't want to hurt her feelings, but he doesn't want to hurt her at all. I think he'd worry more about her health than whether she's sulking or not, and gracefully decline.

I was kinda surprised too about the offer, too, for the same reason. But she's got a big heart and a generous spirit, and she loves Richie too. She wants to help.

That was a less than fabulous conversation, but I think Jon felt a little better having someone to vent at. Just one more service I offer. I had a fleeting thought of what the hell did he do before he met me? I’ll bet his brothers got more than an earful. They owe me big time.

Mom and Dad called us later from the air. Dad still thought that was the coolest thing.

“Hello?” he shouted.

“Dad,” I laughed. “You don’t have to shout, I hear you just fine. Where are you?”

“Somewhere over New York, I think. We should be landing soon.’”

David took the phone. “Dad, there’ll be a car waiting to bring you here. You can stow your gear, and we’ll go over to Jon and Sam’s.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, and hung up. He is a man of few words, and David and I burst out laughing.

We got a room ready for Dad while we waited for them to arrive. The two of us worked together, putting sheets and blankets on the bed, fluffing pillows, and making sure the bathroom had towels. We put a pot coffee on, and settled in front of the TV to wait. One thing led to another, as it usually does with us lately, and David started kissing me. I climbed into his lap and started to kiss him back. A short while later, the doorbell rang. The front door opened a crack, and mom yelled “Yoo hoo!”

David laughed, tearing his mouth from mine and breathing heavily. “Thank God she has a warning call,” he said, then went to greet them properly. He opened the door all the way, and ushered them inside.

Dad looked around and whistled. “Not bad,” he said, smiling. “Not bad at all.”

“Thanks,” David said, laughing. “C’mon, let me show you to your suite.”

Dad rolled his eyes at David behind his back, and followed him up the stairs. Mom and I stayed behind and toured the downstairs. David and Dad came down a little while later. We loaded up Mom’s stuff and David’s in the Nav, and set off for the Bongiovis’.

Chapter 93: Christening

David shut the door softly behind him and locked it. “Just in case,” he said, and crushed Hath to him. They kissed for long, slow minutes, letting their tongues say what their hearts were feeling. As their tongues twined together and stroked one another, Hath could feel herself getting wet. She couldn’t get enough of this man. He braced her against the wall, and plundered her mouth, holding her face gently. With tiny loving butterfly kisses, he touched his lips to every cut, scrape, and bruise.

Hath tilted her head in silent pleading, and David obliged, nibbling on the tender skin of her neck. She moaned and started to go limp, but David’s strong arms kept her upright. Hath grabbed onto David’s shoulders for support, and toed off her shoes. Wrapping one leg around David’s, she ground against him until he chuckled.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” he drawled.

“I need you,” Hath answered on a whisper.

David smiled and pulled Hath’s hips closer to his. “I need you, darlin’. Always.” Hath started to giggle. “What is so damned funny, darlin’?” David was confused.

Hath just shook her head. “Nothing I want to tell you,” she said.

David smiled. “You’d better tell,” he said menacingly, his eyes sparkling and dancing.

“Or what?” Hath challenged.

“Or you can just go to sleep, missy,” he threatened.

“You won’t like it,” Hath said, grinning widely.

David thought for a minute. What the hell did I say? He couldn’t figure out what he said that was so damned funny. “Spill it,” David said, and pinned Hath against the wall.

Her eyes darkened a bit, turning nearly black. “Alright, baby, but remember you asked for it.” She cleared her throat, “The line is not ‘I need you, darlin, always’,” she said, and David’s eyes narrowed and he winced, knowing what was coming. “It’s ‘I will love you, baby, always”.”

David let Hath go and groaned. “Dammit, woman,” he said, laughing. “Do you always have our stuff in your head?”

Hath just nodded. “Yep, pretty much,” she said, joining the laughter.

“God save me from rabid fans,” David said dramatically.

“Oh cut the shit,” Hath said good-naturedly. “You love it and you know it.”

“No, baby,” David said, “I love you.”

Hath smiled. “I love you too. C’mere,” she said. “Let me show you.”

Hath slowly unbuttoned David’s shirt, sliding each button through its hole carefully. Once it hung open on his tall frame, she slipped her hands to his shoulders and squeezed a moment before sliding the garment off of him. She trailed her fingertips lightly across his skin, marveling at its warmth. She could feel the muscles underneath, taut and ready to spring. She turned them so David was against the wall, and his eyebrows went up. “Stay,” she said, and took a few steps backwards.

She pulled her sweater up over her head and discarded it. David winced when he saw the bruises on her arms and ribs, longing to kiss them and try to make them feel better. His heart swelled when he saw distinctly the bump where his children, created from love and passion, grew stronger every day.

David’s breathing became shallow when Hath reached behind her to unzip her long skirt. She let it pool at her feet, and she kicked it in the general direction of the bed. She wore just panties beneath it. Hath walked slowly toward David, and dropped to her knees in front of him. “Baby,” he said, but Hath shushed him. She locked eyes with him as she unbuttoned his pants. She took the tab of the zipper in her teeth, and slowly lowered it, inhaling his aroma as she did. His musky, sexy smell had her wet in an instant. She closed her eyes briefly as she placed a small kiss to that spot just below the waistband of his shorts, where she knew a small drop of moisture awaited.

As she sucked the pre-cum moistened fabric of his shorts into her mouth, Hath tugged on David’s pant legs, and in seconds they were pooled around his ankles. She scratched her fingernails up his legs to the bottom of his shorts and pulled. The waistband of his shorts got stuck for a moment on his cock, but it suddenly came dislodged, and his member bobbed happily at being freed from its restraints. Her eyes did close briefly when she took him into her mouth, but they opened again when he moaned, and once more locked on her lover’s.

David watched as Hath moved back and forth on him. Her eyes were burning into him, and he couldn’t tear away. Even when he felt her swirling her tongue around his tip, and he wanted to close his eyes and sink against the wall, he couldn’t. When she cupped his sac and squeezed gently, he couldn’t. When she took a deep breath and eased forward until her nose pressed firmly into his curls then started to hum, he did. His head thumped back against the wall, and David could feel Hath smiling. She scratched her nails up and down his legs while her mouth worked magic on him.

Hath smiled when David finally slumped back against the wall. She backed off a little, and wrapped her hand around the base of David’s cock, and pumped him while she sucked on just the very tip of him. A little moan escaped David’s lips, and Hath traced his slit with her tongue. David’s hands fisted into Hath’s hair, and she took him all the way in her mouth again, sucking hard. David hissed and moaned Hath’s name as he exploded in her throat. Hath drank greedily, sucking and licking at him until he thought his knees were going to buckle. Even when he sagged bonelessly against the wall, Hath kept up her gentle ministrations, and David let the pleasure wash over him.

“God, I love you,” he said, and pulled at Hath gently to get her into his arms.

“I love you too,” Hath said, kissing David’s neck gently, and cuddling into his chest.

David scooped her up and carried her to the bed. Laying her on her back, he climbed over her and settled her in next to him. She turned to kiss him, and he lovingly pushed her back. “Uh, uh, baby, my turn,” he said. Hath’s eyes smoldered, and she reclined on the pillows like the Goddess David treated her as. David took her arms and raised them to his lips, and one at a time, he kissed every scratch, scrape, cut, and bruise. With tears in his eyes, he kissed her lips softly, sweetly, and when he leaned back, he saw Hath had tears in her eyes as well.

“I could have lost you,” David said, gathering her close.

“I know,” Hath said simply.

They stayed like that for a long time, cuddled together. David was stroking Hath’s back, and gradually he lightened his touch until he was barely grazing her skin with his fingertips. Hath was squirming against David, and he chuckled. He eased back from Hath, and she rolled onto her back. Her eyes were half closed, and she moaned when David’s gentle fingertips grazed her breasts. They traveled slowly all around the rosy tips, coming close, but not quite touching them. Hath arched her back, trying to get David to stroke them with his clever fingertips. Instead, he leaned down and captured one peak in his mouth. Hath gasped when he suckled gently at her, and his hand trailed lower.

David eased Hath’s panties down over her hips and they got caught around her knees. He didn’t want to take his mouth off of her. “Help me,” he mumbled around her nipple. Hath bent her legs, and pushed at her panties, until she could kick them off. David pulled one leg up over his hip, and pushed at the other one, spreading her wide. He trailed his fingertips along the soft skin of her thighs, and grazed her lips. Hath arched and moaned, and it took a long moment for her to settle down. David played Hath, bringing her up close to release then waiting until she calmed before starting all over again.

He exerted the slightest pressure on her clit, the first attention he had paid to it, and she sucked in a breath and tensed. A moan was on her lips, and trailed off to a sigh of disappointment when he moved his hand away.

“Da-a-a-a-a-avid,” she whined. “Ple-e-e-ease.” She was so wound up, she was going to fly right off the bed.

David smiled and kissed his way down her body, stopping to whisper against her abdomen. Hath couldn’t hear the words, but she could feel the vibrations, and she smiled and stroked David’s head. David started on his journey again, and very lightly traced her lips with his tongue. Hath screamed and arched from the bed.

“Shhh,” David said against her. “You don’t want your brother coming in here.”

Hath started laughing, but her laughter dried up when David drove his tongue into her. He lapped at her like a cat with cream, and when she tensed this time, he moved to suck her clit in between his lips. He pulled on the little nub of nerve endings with his lips and teeth until Hath let out a guttural groan.

Then he pushed two fingers into her and felt as her walls pulsed around them.

Hath’s groan turned to a whimper as David worked his fingers in and out of her, all the while, keeping up the gentle pressure on her clit. She started to build again, and her hands scrabbled for purchase, finally fisting in the sheets on either side of her hips. She peaked, but before the full force of her orgasm could hit, David stopped. Hath cried out in dismay, then groaned loudly with pleasure when David drove his cock into her.

He lifted her hips to give him a better angle, and Hath’s eyes rolled back and stayed there. David had to press with some force to get past her walls, but the sensation was amazing. He could feel every tremor and shock running through Hath’s body. Her eyes flew open as David felt her slickening, and she grabbed David’s wrists and held on while he rode her hard, Hath’s feet flexed, her legs tightened, and David felt her squeeze him with so much force, she almost expelled him, and he wasn’t ready for that.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said evilly, and drove hard into her.

Hath screamed David’s name, no longer caring who heard her. Tears leaked from her eyes as wave after wave of pleasure assaulted her. Her body was on sensory overload, and she had to fight to stay conscious. David’s back stiffened, and he grunted Hath’s name as he pushed into her all the way to his balls, and held fast while his seed pumped into her.

Long minutes later, after David had nearly collapsed onto Hath; after he had slid from her body making her whine and wiggle, they lay entwined in each other’s arms, asleep.