by Wanda Amard
I shake my head. “Does it even matter, Mother?” Is there anything I could say that she wouldn’t immediately have a comeback for? No.
“I didn’t come to talk about Vinn.”
“Then why did you come at all?”
I reposition myself in the overstuffed chair in her living room, doing my best not to let my attention fall to what’s on the television. Listening to another person’s drama makes mine sound a little less horrible. But I can’t allow myself to get distracted. Today’s visit has a mission, and it’s not to do her dishes or clean her carpets.
“I want to talk to about the needle I found.”
“The one you wouldn’t have found if you weren’t going through my stuff?” She leans back on the couch and turns the TV volume up, her signal she wants to ignore the conversation. But this time I’m not leaving so easily. My mother said she didn’t use it, but trust in this family is hard won.
She’s Sonia and I need to do my best even if my heart battles in my chest between angry and sad.
“Mom, if you’re using again, you need to get help right now before it gets too bad.” Maybe if she seeks treatment early in the process, she won’t have to hit rock bottom again.
She shakes her head. “I’m not seeing any more shrinks. They don’t know what they’re talking about, those fuckers.”
“They’re trained professionals. I think they know what they’re talking about, Mom.”
Her head whips in my direction, her eyes angry. “Really? Because one of them told me the reason I do drugs is my family. And I told him it’s only because of my daughter.”
A hand goes to my chest. “A therapist told you your kids made you do drugs?” That doesn’t seem right at all. Who would say something like that? What did my mother tell them?
She nods. “He said I was looking for a release from all the mistakes I’ve made in life.”
“So that’s how you see Hunter and me, as mistakes?” It hurts even to ask the question.
She nods. “Hunter not so much. He was an accident, but you. I even wanted you and look at how that turned out.”
“Do you hear what you’re saying, Mom? How can you be so mean?” What parents say something like this to their child? Is she serious or upset because she got caught doing something bad? I never know with my mother, but at some point I need to accept that the years of horrible treatment are just how she is. It’s not the drugs talking. Sonia is a regular bitch all on her own.
I refuse to cry in front of her and I stand up from my chair. “I’m going to go,” I say, but she doesn’t even look in my direction. Instead she turns the volume on the TV up even louder. As I’m about to put my hand on the door, it flies open and Hunter walks in with a dark brunette, her hair falling to her shoulders following behind him.
“Where the hell is your wife?” my mom asks when she sees the two of them together.
Hunter shrugs, barely looking in either of our directions, as he puts his hands around her and walks to his bedroom. “We need to be alone. Don’t bother us.”
There’s another family member making not good choices, but again it’s not my job to keep him in line. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or how I’m supposed to help them because eventually everyone must take responsibility for their own actions. Nothing I’ve tried has worked.
Chapter Four
Vinn
“The flight should be over soon,” I promise, patting Kimber on the knee.
She moves her head slowly in my direction as if the movement hurts, but only because of her mostly healed tattoo. “I didn’t understand it would take so long to get to Florida.”
Her face has a tint of green around the edges. I always figured it was just a saying, but looking at my beautiful wife as she looks like she’s about to hurl, I get exactly where the expression green gills came from. There’s nothing I can do for her, though, except continue to give her reassurances. When I booked our tickets out of the smaller airport in our hometown, I figured it would be better because it wouldn’t have the long security lines to wait through like Detroit would. What I didn’t count on was how sick the landings and takeoffs would make her. We had a short forty-five-minute flight from our airport to Detroit and then we had to switch planes into a bigger plane to get us a Florida. It’s true we didn’t have to wait long, but the ups and downs seem to have their own issues.
The plane hits a bit of turbulence and Kimber clenches her lips together, sticking her head between her legs as I rub her back.
“Would you like me to get a glass of water for you?” The attendant’s walked by a few times to pass out snacks — not sure when they stopped serving food — but I’d get her bottle of water even if I had to pay three dollars for it.
She raises her head again, her pain piercing through my soul. “No, I do not want water. I’ll puke anything that goes in my mouth.”
My eyes widen in question and, to be honest, a little fear. “Okay,” I whisper going back to rubbing her back. The last brown airsick bag for our row sits tucked in the front part of her seat where it has resided for the last hour of the flight, and as the plane hits another bounce, causing me to slide in my seat, Kimber reaches forward and grabs it. She slaps open the bag and sticks it over her mouth, her shoulders coming forward as she gags into the sack. When she closes it up and leans her head against the back of the seat, a tear sits heavily in the corner of her eye.
“I could go for that water now, Vinn,” she says, handing me the bag. I take it because what else would I do and run to the front of the plane holding the bag outstretched before a stewardess finds me a trash can. “You have any of those ridiculously expensive bottles of water?” I ask.
The woman nods her head and obviously feels sorry for me because she hands over a small bottle without charge. I race back to Kimber as fast as possible and have the cap loose when I hand it to her. Rather than take a drink, she runs the bottle with the cool sides across her forehead with her eyes closed.
Some may call it wishful thinking, but I consider it being aware of my surroundings. She’s been crabby the last few days. I’ve chocked it up to her tattoo healing, but the truth of the matter is she’d been cranky before the tattoo. She takes small sips from the water bottle and then hands it back to me, resting with her eyes closed against the back of the seat.
I rub her knee since her back is inaccessible. “Kimber,” I say as pleasantly as possible, not wanting to set her off again.
It doesn’t work. Her face pinches together. “I liked it when you called me JB.”
I smile, thankful she can see sense. “Okay, well, JB, I’m sure you don’t want to talk about it right now, but do you know why you’re so sick?” I ask
As soon as the words exit my mouth, I realize it’s the wrong thing to say. Her eyes open and the way she stares me down is like she’s sharing her seat with a two-year-old. “I am not sick. It’s this plane ride.”
I nod because that’s true. “Do you know why you’re sick?” She doesn’t answer and instead tries to bore through my head with her eyes. I can almost sense the moment she realizes she doesn’t have X-man superpowers and instead leans her head back and closes her eyes again, ignoring me.
“Do you think there’s any chance you could be pregnant?” I whisper the question close to her ear, not wanting to let anyone else on the plane in on my secret. If there is a baby inside of Kimber, I don’t want anyone to find out before we do.
Her eyes shoot open again and she sits ramrod straight in her seat. Completely unconcerned with the whole plane she yells, “Pregnant!”
I grab onto her leg and squeeze, trying to calm her down through intravenous pats. There are no more air sick bags in our row.
“It’s just a thought.”
“No, I’m not pregnant, Vinn. You put me on a plane and then another plane, which I’m pretty sure is going to crash and we’ll die in the Atlantic Ocean. The turbulence has been so bad you’re asking me if I’m pregnant. I’m not pregnant. I’m annoyed.”
I decide not to correct her about the whole die in the Atlantic thing as we won’t fly over the ocean at all. Now doesn’t seem like the best time.
“I was just wondering if you thought that could be a reason. Many women experience morning sickness in early pregnancy.”
She bats my hand away from her knee. “I am not pregnant. I’m hot, sick, and annoyed.”
“Do you want me to turn on your air blower?” I ask, my hand already tipping the small device above our heads in her direction.
She raises her hand quickly. “No, that smells.”
“The air from here smells. Like what?”
She crinkles her nose. “Like stale air.”
I almost laugh but then bite my tongue. She might threaten something she can’t take back. I want to ask what the hell stare air smells like, but I refuse to ask Kimber. She could combust and start the whole plane on fire.
She moans, but not the good happy moans I enjoy hearing. This one is more of a kill me now sound.
“Should we rent a car and drive home?” I ask trying my best to solve her problem. I hate seeing her in pain, especially when I can’t fix it.
“Ugh,” she moans again. “All that movement. Stop talking about things that move.”
That does make me chuckle, but I bite it off when she shoots me another “I hate you” look.
This plane needs to get its ass on the ground, pronto.
Chapter Five
Kimber
It’s like heaven. Florida is everything I had hoped it would be now that we’re twenty-four hours away from the horrible plane ride. Warm in January, there’s even a slight breeze coming off the ocean, which cools my uncovered arms a slight amount but not enough to make me cover up. It’s easy to spot the locals. They’re the people walking around in sweatshirts and long pants where Vinn and I wear shorts and tank tops.
Even the food is amazing. I moan while taking another bite of the chili hotdog making sure to lick my lips and get all the chili off. I didn’t know food could taste so good. They don’t make hotdogs like this in Michigan. At least none I’ve ever eaten.
Vinn stops walking on the beach beside me and stares as I eat the last bite of food, shoving the remainder of the hotdog in and closing my eyes in ecstasy.
“Fuck, woman, why aren’t you moaning like that around my dick?”
I ignore his comments until my mouth is empty. “Put it in me.”
He wiggles his eyebrows and wraps his hand around mine to continue walking down the beach with my bright pink beach bag wrapped over his shoulder. “Later.”
It’s not a suggestion. Vinn doesn’t joke about bedroom matters. If he says later, I can expect to get laid. And I’ll be ready. My ovaries twitch at the idea of his hard cock filing my insides. Last night after getting off the plane and lying in bed complaining of motion sickness, I fell asleep without any excitement.
He didn’t attempt any funny business, just lay behind me as the big spoon and rubbed my back.
But today I feel much better. I’m refreshed after a good night’s sleep and excited to be in Florida. The sun is shining and seagulls squawk overhead as they fly around out on the ocean.
“Do you want another chili dog?” Vinn asks as the waves rush up on our bare feet.
I shake my head no. I couldn’t eat another bite. “Why?”
He chuckles. “With the way you shoved that one down your throat, I prayed you were practicing for something.”
“Are you calling me fat?”
He puts his hands up in defense. “Absolutely not. If anything, you could stand to gain a few pounds.”
My eyes narrow and I keep walking, trying to get away from him for a few minutes. “Are you telling me I’m too skinny?” Why doesn’t he make up his damn mind if he’s going to criticize me?
He swallows hard as if gathering his thoughts and shakes his head. “Kimber, you are perfect.”
Not that I should believe him. Obviously, he finds me fat if I want another chili dog or too skinny if I don’t eat the chili dog. It’s like Vinn has made a paradox I can never escape. So what I enjoyed one hotdog? It was good and had chili and cheese on top. Who wouldn’t eat it?
Up ahead is a small row of shops that landscape the other side of the road past the beach. Vinn does his best to steer me in that direction. “Let’s go see if they have any of those cute beach necklaces.”
I’m still annoyed by the chili comment, but shopping is shopping and I’ve always wanted one of those necklaces from Florida — one of the little puka shell necklaces that were popular before my time.
“Okay,” I reluctantly agree.
“Perfect,” he says, smiling and walking off toward the shops. “Don’t think I forgot a certain birthday coming up. We can buy something here.”
His comment brings a smile to my face. Even if he is a chili dog hater, he remembered my birthday. It’s easy for people to forget with it being so close to the holidays and after the new year.
“What could you buy for me that you haven’t already?”
Vinn stops walking and turns back, kissing me lightly on the top lip. His teeth linger, scraping against my skin, when I pull away and laugh. I can forgive him this once... I suppose.
“Jailbait, I plan to give you the world. Whatever you want just ask and it’s yours.”
“Okay, I want a…” Vinn stares waiting to hear what I say, but as much as I rack my brain looking for something outrageous, I can’t come up with anything I want right now. I’m perfectly happy. On the beach with my husband after the holidays. What more could a girl ask for? I have more than I ever thought I would. More than I ever thought I deserved.
Vinn shakes his head and laughs. “You think on it and let me know.”
“I want to go for a swim.”
He eyes the water hesitantly. “We’ve already done our feet so you could say you touched the Atlantic. Now you want to swim?”
I nod.
“Do you remember how cold it was on our feet?”
I do remember. The chilly water rushed over my toes as we walked along the surface. It took a good a few minutes before my feet became accustomed. He may have a point, The idea of putting my whole body in the cold might not be the best idea.
“Plus, it’s saltwater,” he continues.
I’ve never had to wash saltwater out of hair before, but the way the sticky substance wrapped its way around my ankles and toes might be an indicator it wouldn’t be fun.
My face falls. “Okay, never mind no swimming.”
He pats me on my hand and walks toward the shops again. “I’ll find you a nice heated pool.”
I nod, hopeful at his new promise. A heated pool sounds nice right now.
Chapter Six
Vinn
“See, JB, this pool is much nicer,” I say dipping my toes in the water of the indoor pool in our hotel. It’s kidney-bean shaped. I’ve never seen one of these pools besides on television, and it’s just as illogical in person. Can’t even do a lap.
The water is nowhere near as cold as it was when we walked along the beach earlier today. The sun set behind us hours ago and the wind picked up, blowing a breeze across my naked back and making the water warmer.
I imagine in the summer this pool is bustling with activity, but it’s smaller than the main pool the hotel has and most of the families seem to hang out there. Although from the diminishing noise over the last hour, most have gone back to their rooms or to dinner.
The water laps around Kimber’s ankles and knees and then her waist as she slowly works her way into the water from the steps in the corner. I wait for her with half my body in the water as she works her way in.
“See? It’s not bad, right?” I ask pulling Kimber the rest of the way into the pool, tiny particles flying up and striking me in the face. It doesn’t take long, but my body acclimates to the water at its own pace.
We stop in the middle of the empty pool and I kiss the top of her exposed breast in the dim light provided by
the two overhead poles.
“I’m sad that not all of you is getting wet,” I say staring down at her marvelous tits.
I’d always considered myself an ass man to be honest, but Kimber has changed me. She made me see the light, at least when her tits are close enough I can reach out and lick them.
“Oh I’m wet,” she says looking down at my dick.
He stands at attention for her, liking the notice. I step forward backing her into the corner of the pool. “Is that so?” Did she mean the comment to be sexual? Regardless, it is now and she can’t take it back.
I’d brought her out here to have a nice dip in the pool and let her swim in Florida without making me trudge into the salty cold water of the Atlantic Ocean, but now thoughts of sex fill my head and I want her. There’s nothing more I want right here and now than her. In this pool.
When she’s not looking I scan the area, making sure no one is around. It’s as dead as when we came down. The pool closes in less than thirty minutes and most of the people sharing the hotel with us look to be families, not wild spring breakers like you’d find in March and April.
Kimber presses her body against the side of the pool and I wrap my arms around her back. It takes one quick tug to undo the flimsy strap holding her tits in the skimpy triangle bikini. “The girls should come out and play.”
“Vinn,” she whisper-shrieks and tries to hold up her bikini top with one arm while pushing me away with the other.
I love seeing her flustered. It only turns me on more. My dick pushes against the loose material of my swim trunks fighting to get out.
“Shhh.” I slide next to her and pull her arm down, freeing the girls. “There’s no one here.”
Kimber’s head twists back and forth, searching the area, but she doesn’t see anyone because there is no one here. “What if someone comes?” she asks.
“Then you cover up fucking quick so no one else gets a look at you.” Those tits are mine and no one gets to see them.
