by M. C. Cerny
“I’ll go make breakfast.” I kiss him back.
“Mmm, I like a dirty chef.” He teases me licking my fingertips.
Pushing him away we both get out of the bed going our separate ways. “I promise to wash my hands.” I wave at him as he slips inside the bathroom chuckling.
Starting the uber expensive coffee maker I lay out my baking supplies. I wanted to cook Milo something nice that reminded him of home while we waited for things to calm down and we got the clearance to travel. Why did I have to get married to most perfect man on the planet. Rhetorical questions aside, Milo was the epitome of wonderful and now we were together for eternity. You would think I would have been in a better mood but reality hit me this morning like a ton of bricks when I sort through some of the things his mom forwarded to me including recipe cards writing in a mishmash of French Canadian and Georgian.
The doorbell rings stopping me in mid grab for the cheese in the fridge. “I’ll get it!” Milo was probably still in the shower anyway and I tottered over to the door opening it. “Good Morn…ing?” I take in the woman standing on the doorstep my jaw gapping.
“Hello? Are you the housekeeper?” She brushes past me with a lilting English accent that only makes her prettier than her smooth skin face and upswept red hair. Freckles dot her nose while she looks me up and down with her clear green eyes.
“No. Not the housekeeper.” I say stepping back to shut the front door. I look out into the street and find a car on the curb that drives away.
“Coffee. Delightful.” She has no problem pouring herself a cup as if she knows where everything is and my gut clenches unhappily.
“Where’s Milo?” She asks sitting at the bar top counter sipping my coffee and paging through Milo’s newspaper.
“He’s in the shower.” I stand across from her observing her like an insect wondering if I need to spray or swat her before she bites.
“Who are you again?” I ask realizing this strange woman has just walked into the home I’m sharing with my husband of just a few weeks. It’s surreal and I’m not sure what to do.
“I’m Mariska Malcolm. Milo and I were lovers and I’ve come to help him out of his predicament.” She smiled holding out her coffee mug for more. I steal my breath pouring it for her faking cordially I don’t feel for a woman I don’t know who basically said she’s boned my husband. Right. My. Fucking. Husband.
“Predicament.” I say making small talk.
“Yes, marriage. Temporary, but still much better than him getting deported and loosing years of research at the hospital.”
“Uh huh.”
“So are you going to make him breakfast or something. I’ll have whatever he’s having. I can hire a chef later.”
“Yeah, breakfast sure because as his wife that’s I’m doing.”
“Oh honey, I’m sure you’ll find someone.” She says condescendingly eyeballing my morning outfit. I think about Milo’s thick cum still inside me held deep by my panties and I squeeze my thighs together. Yeah, I found someone alright and I wasn’t giving him up to this stuffy pretentious woman. He’s so mine and this stuffy wench can’t have him.
“Well, I’d say your about three weeks too late. Oh Milo, honey… we have a guest.” I shout toward the direction of the bedroom. I can’t believe this is happening. Milo pops around the corner wearing nothing but a towel around his leans hips I had had my legs wrapped around moments earlier. He runs a smaller towel through his hair and my heart pinches. I look over to see this woman watching him as well, she licks her lips and I want to stab her with the spoon I’m stirring in my coffee cup. I put the spoon in the sink so I don’t commit a felony this early before my second cup.
“Hello darling!” Mariska jumps off the stool and hugs him tight. I can smell her perfume and it makes me sick thinking he might smell like that for the rest of the day.
“Oh shit.” Milo says looking between us and oh shit is right.
“Milo, I think you know Mariska, but I’m a little out of the loop. She wasn’t invited to our wedding.” I announce flashing my ring in her face for good measure. Her expression doesn’t change and I wait for Milo to correct her.
He’s taking too long. I wish I had the spoon in my hand still because he would be the target of my ire after this.
“Mariska is…”
“Apparently I am out of the loop as well.” She steps back from Milo looking him over and looking at me wearing a t-shirt from his drawer with my panties. I’m confident in my lean body but she made me feel unworthy in a way I didn’t have words to describe as she stood there in her expensive clothes, leather satchel, and perfect makeup this hour of the morning.
“Didn’t my mother tell you?” He put space between us standing next to me, his arm slowly slipping around my waist feeling more like a snake instead of a comfort in the moment.
“She said you were having trouble with your immigration visa. I came to help.” Her smooth words made it sound like I tried chasing her out of the house like a crazy person.
Milo kissed the top of my head squeezing my rigid body before speaking again. “I guess mom forgot to mention I’m married. I’ve got a lawyer, but thanks for coming out here.”
“Anything for you Milo. Always.”
“And what does your friend do, honey?” I ask Milo wondering how much longer we have to put up with this woman stinking up the kitchen with her snooty skank ass.
“She’s a lawyer.” As if that was the only explanation my husband could think of to give me. I turn in his arms to look at him. His square jaw relaxed and his warm body suddenly suffocating me. Pissed would be an understatement. I push him away to give myself moment to breathe.
“Ah.” I had no other words to say watching the interplay between us awkwardly.
“Well, since you won’t need me. I suppose I should have my driver come back and take me to the Inner Harbor Hotel. We can have lunch this week while I’m in town.” Mariska grabs her things walking toward the door.
“Hmm. Lunch” I mock leading Milo to give me a look I don’t know how to interpret. I mean geez, I didn’t invite the international supermodel ex to come over.
“Let me walk you out.” Milo says when I reach for his towel.
“Might want to put pants on, love. You know how Mrs. Kelly gets when you pick up the paper nude.” I fake smile turning back to the counter seething.
“Right, be right back.” Milo reaches for me kissing the back of my head and I ignore him picking up the recipe card I was about to work on. Damn it, I was going to make him bread his mother makes for him and tears sting my eyes. It’s the flour, it has to be the flour because I can’t possible be upset that my husband has a past that didn’t include me in it. I can’t possible be having feelings for him, can I?
“Toodles!” I hear the ex say walking out the door as Milo jogs after her in shorts and a t-shirt.
“Fuck off ho!” I mutter dumping flour into a bowl adding salt.
I hear the door close and Milo walking back in.
“I’m guessing you want to talk about it?” He says resting his hands on the counter.
I glare at him with silent but deadly eyes. Talk about it? I was still in murder mode and needed a moment to stop myself from going nuclear. I slam my hand down on the counter upending a cloud of flour coating the kitchen and myself. Unbelievable. I think I love him and I don’t know why I’m so mad at him.
10
Milo
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend waiting for you?” Piper yells across the kitchen island slamming dough down onto the wooden board. I wonder what she is making with all the flour and items scattered on the counter looking like a baker’s dive into hell.
I pick up an apple from the bowl ignoring her comment biting into the red skin snapping it back and letting the juice slide down my throat. “What are you making?” I ask instead. I didn’t want to have to hash out why Mariska, a blast from my past showed up on our doorstep offering her services on a Sunday mornin
g.
“Are you fucking kidding me Milo? I’m asking about the woman you were supposed to be marrying showing up and you’re asking what I’m cooking?” Her cheeks blow out puffs of air and she wipes her brow leaving a mark of white powder streaking it. It’s adorable and I grunt adjusting the rise in my shorts. How she can be so pissed off and I want to lay her out on the counter is amazing to me.
I sigh. “I married you, isn’t that the point.”
She slaps the dishtowel against my chest stalking down the hall. “No it’s not the fucking point.” I hear a door slam and wonder how long this snit will last. The kitchen is a disaster but I can’t leave Piper stewing like this. I was never going to marry Mariska but explaining that to Piper would have fallen on deaf ears.
I walk back over to the counter and read the carefully written out notecards in my mom’s handwriting. Piper had all the ingredients set aside preparing Khachapuri. My favorite cheese bread. Shit. I really fucked this up didn’t I. I rolled my neck back staring at the ceiling. Why couldn’t all aspects of marriage be easy?
My cell phone rings stopping my thoughts and I fish it out of my pocket. “Hello?”
“Mr. Lazare? This is Agent Todeski.”
Ah the person handling my immigration case. I leaned over the kitchen counter mentally exhausted. As if we need this one more thing to deal with.
“How can I help you?”
“Well I wanted to do a home visit but I thought maybe coming to the office for an interview with your new wife would be better.”
Fuck.
“Yeah, sure. When would you like us to come by?” This is the last damn thing I wanted to do right now. I have to fix shit with Piper not force her to endure and interview with an annoyingly nosy agent who probably doesn’t give a shit about my job and will be just as happy to send my ass back from whence it came.
“This afternoon would work for me.”
“Great. See you then.” I hang up wondering how I am going to broach this subject with Piper. Time to put on my man pants.
I knock on the door hearing nothing from the other side. “Piper?” I call out thinking maybe she’s in the bathroom. No noise is good noise right? I crack the door open and slip inside. I have no idea why I’m being so quiet. It’s my house. Correction, our house. It wasn’t like I had anything to hide.
“Piper?” I call out again following the path of destruction including pulled sheets from the bed and laundry on the floor to the balcony doors. She’s sitting outside flipping her phone over and over in her fingers looking out into the backyard.
“Can we talk?” I sit down in the lounge chair across from her. My hands cup the sides of her legs pulling her closer to me.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me about her.” Her face carries a wounded expression and I’m instantly contrite and sorry.
“It’s not that I was hiding her if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Then who is she?”
“Mariska is someone I grew up with as my parents moved around Europe. My mother was an investigative journalist. I lived in a number of places growing up including the Middle East, London, and South Africa. Her father was an ambassador between the UK and South Africa. We went to school together in London. I guess the equivalent of High School.”
“Did you sleep with her?” I didn’t want to answer Piper but I had to so that I could make it clear there wasn’t anything between us.
“We did. A long time ago. It was in between us parting ways for law school and medical school. Separately.”
“So like…” I see the wheels turning and I grab her hand to stop her.
“Piper, please don’t do the math. It was less than a handful of times and it obviously meant more to her than it did to me. I was kind of a selfish asshole back then. I was focused on medical school and I had no desire to be with anyone so I slept with several someones until it got old.” Truth is that I picked ones that bored me so I wouldn’t get attached. Mariska liked to recite case law in bed enough said on that one.
“She’s pretty.”
I wave that off. My wife is sexy as fuck. I didn’t need a Mariska or anyone one else.
“Look, I know you’re feeling hurt. But I swear that was over before it even began. I married you because I like you and I want this to work. I believe we can make this work and I want to try.”
“I do too Milo. I was just so thrown back by everything and her showing up made it all the more real and weird.”
“Yeah, nobody likes opening the door to find an old ex standing there with a basket of expectations.”
“Maybe I overreacted?”
“Well, maybe I under reacted because I didn’t think it would be upsetting for you and I should have realized you would feel some type of way about it.”
“Truce?” She leans in to kiss my cheek.
“Truce.”
“Who called?” She points to my phone I hadn’t realized I am holding onto in a tight grip.
“Homeland security.” I snort.
“What did the visa witch want?”
“Besides sending me back?” I husk.
“Yeah.”
“A meeting this afternoon. Probably the first round of interviews for my permanency hearing.”
“I think I know how we can get you to stay?”
“How is that wife?”
Piper crawls from her chair to mine straddling me. No one can see us on the balcony of the backyard.
“Didn’t you say you wanted kids someday?”
“Of course.”
“Well I figure we could start practicing. You know for when we’re actually ready to have them.” Her smile is wicked and I pick her up giggling. People say baby making sex is hotter. I think sex with Piper is life altering babies or not.
11
Piper
“So glad you could make it.” The Immigration officer eyes us up and down. If she asked for an x-ray it would be easier but I don’t say anything to antagonize her.
She probably notices how out of breath I am and that I didn’t have a chance to shower since our afternoon delight. Normally I’d freak out but after years of working at a gym a few moist towlets did most of the work as well as fresh clothes.
“Pleasure is ours.” Milo grunts and I put my hand on his as we sit down in the room. I’m afraid his temper will blow this whole thing up sky high. He hasn’t made a secret of not liking this woman who remains to be the gatekeeper to Milo staying here in the US.
I clear my throat smiling at her while I pinch Milo’s arm when she looks away.
“What my husband means to say is that we’re happy to answer any questions you might have.”
“You picked a good one Mr. Lazare.” The woman flips through her file on Milo clucking and making remarks mostly to herself. He grumbles and I don’t blame him. She’s using a red pen to take notes, blood thirsty in my opinion. I don’t like her judging him but there is little I can do.
“You said you had questions.” Milo edges closer on the end of his seat. He can look intimidating when he wants to and I hope he can reign it in. I was hoping to stay out of jail this weekend because I still hadn’t figured out how to tape American Ninja Warrior on the new DVR system just yet.
“Yes, the usual what’s your favorite color, food, and shoe size. The standard who lives where and details about the honeymoon.”
“Are these real questions?” I ask.
Milo pipes in, “Oh that’s easy. She loves pink but not just any pink, it has to be this neon shade that screams when you see it or this pale baby pink that ballerina’s wear. She loves coffee and red wine that’s chilled with two ice cubes and her shoe size is a six.”
“Impressive.”
I bite my lip because I don’t know that I can be nearly as convincing or informative. And how the hell did Milo know I like hot pink?
“Mrs. Lazare?” Her head cocks to the right and the urge to flick it back grates on my nerves.
“My husband eats this cheesy bread.
I can never say the name right. What is it babe?”
He laughs.
“It’s Khachapuri, sweetheart.” Milo says it slowly like kat-cho-puri and I mouth the words with him smiling. He squeezes my hand and I keep going.
“It’s easy to make but his mother switches out the feta and Muenster cheeses in a particular ratio that’s different from her recipe cards.” I haven’t quite gotten it right yet, and I think she doesn’t tell me because she’s afraid I’ll do it right and maybe Milo won’t miss her nearly as much, but I could tell her that he would and still does.
“Sometimes I cook the bread too long and it burns on the bottom but he eats it anyway. His favorite color is whatever tie he reaches for. I’ve never met a man who owned more ties than he knew what to do with and all of them have cartoon characters.” I don’t share with the nosey witch that usually when he gets home from the hospital he ties me up with them and fucks me senseless until my body is a pile of loose limbs and breathless giggles.
“He wears these Italian loafers but they’re so worn the size has rubbed off on the inside, so I’m sorry but I can’t tell you that except to say they’re pretty big like everything else on his body.” I look at Milo who tries not to laugh but fails. I can’t help but tell the truth.
“Well obviously I won’t have to ask about marital relations and where each of you sleeps?” She grumbles.
“God I hope not, my wife likes to nuzzle my chest on the left side.” Milo seems to be enjoying the officer’s embarrassment and it serves her right.
“No more stomach sleeping for you mister.” I poke him and he pulls me closer for a quick kiss on the lips that I wish would linger longer. I wish that we were back at the bed and breakfast exploring each other, making love the rest of the day.
“Alright, enough.” She waves us off clearly buying it but not before saying something else. “Its evident you two actually love each other.” Milo and I stare at each other with secret smiles. We don’t say anything but his eyes tell me he probably wants to talk later. I’d talk with him forever, because yeah I do love him.
