by Bella Knight
“You treat me so good, baby,” she said, kissing her.
“Let’s spend tomorrow in bed,” said Callie. “I finished off a course today.”
“Yay you,” said Ivy. She held out her arms, and Callie slid in. They kissed slowly.
Callie slowly washed Ivy’s hair, conditioned it, and washed her body. Ivy laid back in the water and floated. Callie rinsed Ivy’s hair, and they just held each other and floated.
“You know that time in your life when you’re so tired that laying on the floor and falling asleep on the tile seems alright?”
“Umm,” said Ivy, as Callie washed in between her toes with a scrubby.
“That’s where I am,” said Callie. “The problem is, even with two little girls ‘helping,’ the house looks like a small grenade went off. Maybe half of one.”
“Text Henry,” said Ivy, her head back on the tub pillow. “He’s got, cleany teens. Not now, electrocution bad.”
Callie giggled. “Electrocution bad.” She slid her fingers in between Ivy’s legs.
Ivy arched her back, stretched, and pushed into Callie’s hand. She came, gasping and splashing. Callie laughed as she rubbed water out of her eyes.
After, Ivy flipped over and put Callie’s head on the soft pillow. She stroked her, kissed both breasts, her tongue flicking over the tips the way that made Callie moan and, eventually, scream and thrash. She propped Callie up on her legs, letting the water hold her up, and licked her button, and put her tongue inside, in light flicks, then pressing. Callie laid her head back, groaning, trying to stay still. She braced her legs on the side of the tub and arched her back as she came, again and again.
The water chilled. They dried each other, and Callie put on lotion while Ivy blow-dried her hair. Ivy sent her off to bed while she blow-dried her own hair until it was partway dry and put it in the usual twists. She went to bed and was unsurprised to find Callie taking up two-thirds of the bed, asleep, her arms thrown out. She put on underwear and a cami and went to the kitchen. She poured orange juice into water bottles, then got butter, two plates, and two knives, and blessed Callie for picking up tiny muffins. She brought them in and put the food and drinks in the tiny refrigerator in their room. She put herself under Callie’s outstretched hand and slipped into sleep in her wife’s arms.
They spent a lovely morning in bed, reading books, watching videos, and talking. Ivy pulled up a sperm bank on her tablet and squeaked at the cost.
“Some of these guys’ little guys go for a grand!”
“What, a Nobel prize winner?” asked Callie, nibbling on a strawberry muffin.
“And, you can get the turkey baster thing in just the vagina, or all the way in.”
“And which one of us does the deed?” asked Callie, holding Ivy’s hand.
“Good question,” said Ivy.
“We could both try. Doubles our odds. Unlikely both of us would catch. Our cycles are the same anyway because we live together,” said Callie.
“Why the hell does that happen?” asked Ivy. “We both get moody and eat too much salt or chocolate at the same time.”
“Have no idea. Happened to Lily with her college roommates.”
“Roommates? More than one? I thought they only gave you one.”
“Not able to afford the dorm,” said Callie. “She ended up in a room with five other girls. They were always eating her food.”
“That sucks,” said Ivy.
“So, two,” said Callie. “Could get expensive.”
“Hmm,” said Ivy, and kissed Callie deeply. “Worth it to make a baby with you.”
Callie sniffled. “I want to have one with you too.” They kissed again.
They hauled themselves over to the Realtor’s office to sign ten thousand times on a stack of paper half as tall as Callie. Ivy had already put the money in the escrow account. They got the keys and hauled over to the property. Nantan was there with the van filled with teens drinking Cokes. Tito had already delivered the Dumpster and recycling trays.
Ivy pulled Nantan aside. “I need one or two of them to clean our house. Callie is exhausted, and I have to work.” He called over Nino and Tico. “Go with Callie, clean her house for two hours. Then, call and one of us will pick you up. You’ll get paid cash for her house.”
Nino looked at Tico. “Guitar Hero?” he asked, naming their favorite video game.
“Yeah,” said Tico, grabbing a cleaning tray out of the van, and a cleaning checklist from Nantan.
Ivy kissed Callie, handed off the two teens, and headed off to work. Callie ran load after a load of wash, sorted the girls’ clothes, put clothes in the mending basket, put a pile of clothes that no longer fit into a recycling box, and decluttered the little-girl disaster area despite the everything-in-its-place rule. She made a list for the dollar store, starting with more baskets for the girls’ things. Tico came in and dusted and vacuumed in there.
“You have our pods,” he said. “We love ‘em.”
“I designed and built them,” said Callie.
“Awesome,” said Tico. “If you build more, can I help?”
“Sure,” said Callie.
She took off for the dollar store and bought both baskets and cheap food like tortillas, and hairbands and barrettes for the girls’ hair. She swung by Sonic and fed everyone sliders and chicken fingers and fries, and the boys sucked on the super-large strawberry drinks too quickly and complained of brain freeze. Callie cleaned out the refrigerator while Nino sprayed the stuff to clean the oven into it, and left it to work while he cleaned the microwave. Callie folded laundry until she wanted to fall over, listening to podcasts about music. She worked as long as the boys were there, about three hours, accomplishing more in that time than she had in a month and a half, even with the girls “helping.”
She ran the boys back, then went home, barely able to trudge up the stairs. She showered and fell into bed for a long, luxurious nap.
She woke up, ordered pizza and Coke, and took a quiz that she aced. She laughed out loud and finished off a long research paper. She had a project with a group of classmates, dealing with people who didn’t speak English as a first language, one guy who didn’t want to do a thing before someone had to lob a grenade at his head, an overbearing bitch with no idea what she was talking about, and two hard workers. Callie gave up on getting things done any other way and assigned sections. She edited the Venezuelan woman’s section; she loved the insights on how to teach English language learners and told her so. She threatened the slacker with bodily harm and/or talking to the professor about it. She wrote her section and edited the two workers’ sections. She cut out the bitch’s insane opinions, and inserted quotes and research from the actual book, with footnotes. She watched some video lectures and took some notes, then researched the first third of another paper. Then, she hit a wall of exhaustion. She popped popcorn and put on a comedy, and was asleep before Ivy came home.
Katya was at the duplex with the teens in the morning, acting like a pregnant MacArthur. She had them pick the yards clean of debris, wash the outside walls with a pressure hose rented from Home Depot, finish getting everything out of the house, and demo the kitchen. Ivy grinned evilly, grabbed a sledgehammer, and followed them in.
“Henry was right,” said Callie. “They seem to love the demo, the girls especially.”
“Is good to sell ugly old green furniture to antique shop,” said Katya. “Pay for busy children.”
Lily showed up with a basket of fruit, cheese, and crackers. They sat down on a portable table and chairs.
“How’s your pregnancy going?” asked Callie.
“Better than mine,” Katya answered for Lily. “I am pig in mud. Hard to move.”
“I think Ace may actually explode with happiness,” said Lily. “He won’t let me do anything. I think the kids will end up cleaning my house.”
“They do a great job,” said Callie, popping a grape in her mouth.
“You pregnant already?” asked Katya.
“We looked into a sperm bank,” said Callie. “We both want to try, because lots of times it doesn’t take, and we don’t want to be crushed.”
“My husband isn’t good enough for you?” asked Lily, hands on hips. “His sperm made me pregnant.”
“Whoa,” said Callie. “I don’t usually talk to my friends about their husband’s sperm.”
“Is good idea,” said Katya, sliding a piece of cheese on a cracker. “He is proven, father. Is easy.”
“You would… you would let us use a turkey baster?” asked Callie, turning bright red with embarrassment.
“Damn right,” said Lily. “I love you guys, but no touchy my husband. That’s my job.”
“I’ll have to ask Ivy,” said Callie.
“One-time offer, short time to wait,” said Lily. “We’re gonna be busy.”
“I bought an ovulation kit,” said Callie. “We’re both ovulating because she’s on the same cycle.”
“Is normal for women. Two women same house, same cycle,” said Katya, taking more grapes.
“I’ve got to…” said Callie.
She went in and saw kids with gloves passing debris into boxes to be brought out to the Dumpster. Ivy swung a sledgehammer gleefully. She was actually laughing. Callie leaned in the doorway, watching her wife’s eyes sparkle behind the safety glasses.
Ivy and the teens ran out of demo. Ivy put down the hammer and took off her safety glasses.
“Hi, baby,” she said. She walked over to Callie and kissed her. “Looking for me?”
Ace came in and smiled at them kissing in the doorway. “I’ll get with Lily and… um… deliver it later.” He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight from foot to foot.
Callie took pity on him. “Thank you,” she said.
Ace smiled. “Anything for my two favorite ladies who aren’t my wives.” He kissed each one of them on the cheek and went to survey the demo damage.
“What is he talking about?” said Ivy, perplexed.
“Lily wants him to donate his…” She whispered into her wife’s ear, “sperm!”
Ivy’s jaw hit the floor, then her eyes lit up, and she smiled a huge smile. “Woo hoo!” she said and broke into a happy dance.
She grabbed Callie’s face and gave her a huge kiss, then she ran after Ace.
“Ace! I’m buying you pizza for a month!” she said, grabbing him a huge hug.
She did, indeed, buy lunch. They sent the kids off when it got dark and went to have a romantic dinner at the local pasta house. Ivy’s eyes gleamed, and Callie found herself smiling.
Ace was an intelligent man, so he let his wife shower first after their trip to get wonderful crab cakes at an outdoor restaurant. He walked the dogs instead, laughing at their antics. He got home, fed the dogs, and showered. He went into the bedroom to dress, and he saw a wooden chair right in the bedroom. He looked up and saw his wife in a blue bustier and panties. He nearly collapsed from how gorgeous she looked, her eyes snapping. Then, he saw the scarf in her hands and smiled.
“Sit,” she said. He sat.
He raised his eyebrows, but he held his hands out willingly. She tied his hands to the chair slats behind his back. She kissed him deeply, taking his head in her hands. She ran her fingers up and down his chest, then down to cup his balls. He moaned. She kept her hands moving, never stopping, caressing his chest, down his arms, down his chest and sides, and down to his thighs. He moaned and was stunned by how hard he was. She took him in her mouth, and he couldn’t help finding a rhythm. She nipped, and he held back, afraid of losing skin to her sharp teeth.
She found her own rhythm, and soon he said, “I can’t…hold it.”
She grabbed a cup, and he came. She caught it, holding him at an angle that was a little painful. She sealed the cup, wiped him with a wet wipe, and started to leave.
“Hey! Forget something?” he asked.
She laughed. “I want you right there when I come back. I’ll put a coat on over this, and be right back.” It was the longest twenty minutes of his life.
Ivy received the cup with a chip of dry ice underneath in its paper bag from Lily, who obviously wasn’t wearing much under her coat.
“You look like sex on a stick,” said Ivy. “Go get him, girl.” Lily laughed raunchily.
Ivy grabbed the two needle plungers in their plastic and walked them into the bedroom, the paper bag in her other hand. Callie was in bed, candles all around.
“That was fast,” said Callie.
“She showed up in a trench coat. She wasn’t wearing much underneath.”
Callie laughed. “Omigod! Lily is a tramp!”
Ivy put the cup down and kissed Callie deeply. “I love you so much,” she said.
“I love you more,” said Callie, grabbing her head, and kissing her more deeply.
Ivy unscrewed the lid and filled both plungers carefully. “Which one of us goes first?” she asked.
“Me,” said Callie. She held up her favorite purple dildo. “My purple friend and I made sure I was ready.”
“That’s my job,” said Ivy, carefully putting both plungers on top of the cup lid. She climbed in bed, her hands sliding over Callie’s rear. “Mine,” she said.
Callie stroked Ivy’s breast. “Mine,” she said. She gasped as Ivy slid in her fingers, then pushed, making her arch her back.
Ivy used her thumb to caress Callie’s button. Callie gasped, grabbing the pillow. Ivy moved her hands fast and hard, and Callie writhed, coming again and again, as Ivy kissed her neck. Ivy removed her hand, and rolled Callie on her back, and put her legs up. She took one of the plungers and pushed the sperm into Callie.
“Let’s cheer for the little swimmers,” said Callie. Ivy laughed.
Ivy had to lie on Callie to be stroked, kissed, her breasts sucked. She moaned, gasped, and kissed Callie’s neck. She propped up her legs on Callie and handed Callie the plunger. Callie pushed the plunger, and Ivy laughed. Callie passed it back, and Ivy put it with the other empty one.
They laid on their backs legs in the air. “How long do we have to lie here?” asked Callie.
“We have cell phones with books on them. Who cares?” So, they held hands, read books, and slept when the candles burned out.
Assassination
Lily woke Ace up. “Umpf,” he said. “What?”
“My brother texted me,” said Lily.
“What does he want?” Ace rubbed his eyes, realizing he wasn’t getting more sleep.
“He’s been sober. Apparently, somewhere with the Northern Paiutes.”
“They’re all over northern California, northern Nevada, Idaho, and Oregon. Good place to get him out of the way.”
Her brother Devlin, two years younger, had gotten into alcohol and drugs. He’d stolen drugs from Big Mike and Leticia, the heads of a drug-running gang called The Deuces. Ace had insinuated to Leticia that Devlin was dead; it would not be a good idea for him to come back to Vegas. Ace had gotten Devlin into a spin-dry facility to get him sober, and then Henry had arranged to take him someplace far away.
“He wants to make amends,” said Lily. “He may be an idiot, but I love him, and I have to hear him out.”
Ace sighed. “Even if he’s using again?”
“If he were using again, he’d be looking for money and giving me some sob story.”
“Good point,” said Ace. “When and where?”
“He’s near Tonopah at a rest stop.” Tonopah was a small town halfway between Las Vegas and Reno.
Sighing, Ace sat up and reached for his jeans that were on the back of a chair. “I’ll text Ivy. She’ll have to do my job.”
Ivy texted back that she would close the bar and come with them. They dressed quickly and were soon on the road.
They met at a pancake house and had apple pancakes, bacon, and orange juice.
“You alright?” asked Ivy.
“Not really,” said Lily. “If he’s sober, that’s the best I can hope for.”
They made good time
. The bus stop wasn’t busy, a few trucks off in the distance. Ivy went for water from a machine while they met Devlin.
Devlin looked rugged, tough, with actual muscles. He wore a cowboy hat, a faded blue shirt, and torn jeans.
“May I hug you?” he asked, in a gravelly voice. Lily didn’t answer; she just hugged him.
Lily held him, then let him go and stepped back. “Looking better, brother.”
“Been working on fences, found out more about cows than I wanted to,” he said. “Not a life I would have chosen for myself, but it’s good.”
“How you getting back?” asked Ace.
“I’ll call. Guy who brought me is meeting family.”
“Good,” said Ace. “I know you want to talk to my wife. I’ll get us some sodas.”
“I heard you were married,” said Devlin. “That’s cool. You deserve to get treated better than how Dad and I treated you.”
“What is your… program, I guess,” asked Lily.
“Narcotics Anonymous,” said Devlin. “And the other one too.”
No one saw where the shots came from. Ace went down first, throwing himself across Lily. Devlin fell away from them, his body jerking, a look of shock on his face. Lily tried to scream, but her breath was crushed by Ace’s body on hers.
Ivy came running. “Ace!” she screamed. She kept her head down, but no more shots were fired. There was a squeal of tires.
Ivy dialed 9-1-1 and started yelling into the phone about rest stops and mile markers and shooting. Lily ran her hands over her husband’s body, feeling blood pulsing through her fingers.
“Baby,” said Ace. “You shot?”
“Don’t think so,” she said, trying to put pressure on the wound with one hand and get her shirt off over her head with the other.
“Ivy,” she said, “Get him off me. I’ve got to get to…” She looked behind her, swiveling her head about. Devlin was sprawled on the ground, head out. “Devlin!” Lily screamed.
