"I said enough," their mother said. "This is not appropriate conversation for dinner."
"Come on, Mom," Nathan said as he sat back and smiled to his mother. "You brought it up."
"Yeah," Joshua agreed with his brother. "Besides, it's not like we're talking about analingus."
"Ooh, Michael loves that," Melanie chimed in loudly and with an eager face.
The kitchen door to the garage opened quickly and before it shut, Brian could be heard laughing hysterically as he exited the house.
"That's enough!" their mother said loudly as her hand slapped the table. "I will not have this talk at my table!"
The boys quieted quickly and Michael heard a couple of "Sorry, Mom's" and one barely audible but ever so cute "Sorry, Mrs. Angel."
Once again, Michael felt like he should be embarrassed, but as he looked at Melanie, with her head hung down in shame, his hand went to his mouth and he covered a wide grin. He looked over to his mother who only glared at him. Michael chuckled and stared back at her. He didn’t care what she thought. She had started this conversation, and if she didn't like where it ended, then tough.
Matters only became worse for Mrs. Angel when Katherine, who was confused by the actions of the grownups, asked a curious question. She was seated in between Melanie and her father, and her nose scrunched with confusion.
"What's anlulla nus?" she asked.
Nathan smiled and bent down to her. "That's an old friend of the Snuffleupagus from Sesame Street," he said.
"Oh," she said knowingly, and everyone at the table laughed; all except for Mrs. Angel who rolled her eyes at her entire family.
"I'll admit that she's nice," Joshua said as he watched Melanie being chased across the front yard by his niece and nephew.
"Thanks, Josh," Michael replied.
Michael and Melanie were making ready to leave, but the kids insisted on one quick game of tag before leaving. Joshua had taken the opportunity to give his tacit approval of the relationship, and Michael knew how difficult that was for the man.
"Anyway," Joshua said. "Thanks for the present and thanks for the support with school."
"Hey, you’re my kid brother, it's what I do," Michael replied.
Joshua shook his head, gave Michael a hug and headed for the front door.
"Josh," Michael said and his brother turned around. "Are you ever going to forgive us?" Michael asked.
"For what?" Joshua asked curiously.
"Being right," Michael replied coldly.
Anger flashed across Joshua's face and his jaw set. He didn't reply to the comment, he just turned around and headed for the front door.
"Nice going, Moron," Brian said.
Michael turned at the words and located his brother leaning against the open garage frame with a beer in his hand.
"Couldn't leave fucking well enough alone could you?" Brian asked, and then took a sip of beer.
"I just want to help him," Michael said as he approached his brother.
"You know, for someone that went to college, you can sure be a dumbass at times," Brian stated.
Michael shot an angry look to Brian and closed the gap between them. Brian stood to attention and prepared for the approach.
"What?" Brian asked, "You wanna go a few rounds, Pansy?"
"You think I can't take you?" Michael asked.
"Well, it sure would be fun finding out now wouldn't it?"
The men were very close and Michael closed even farther; they were now within easy punching distance.
"Give it your best shot," Brian dared Michael.
"You're an ass," Michael replied coldly.
Brian moved his grip on his bottle and Michael's eyes closed as he saw the maneuver. They were very close now and both watched the other carefully for the next move. That move turned out to be a small hand to each of their chests.
Slightly surprised, they looked down to see Melanie staring up at them. She was smiling and quiet; she didn't say a word; she just looked up at each of them, and the men calmed. For several seconds she smiled warmly, and the silence was only broken when a little angel intruded.
"You're it," Katherine said as she ran into Melanie and grabbed onto her leg.
Melanie gasped and smiled down at the little girl.
"Oh, you little rug rat, but you didn't say no tag backs; that means I can come get you."
Katherine screamed loudly with excitement, and the men had to shake their heads in an attempt to alleviate the pain from the screech. Melanie appeared unfazed and began to chase Katherine who had detached herself and began to run into the front yard.
The men watched her leave. Michael turned away from Brian and ignored the man. He assumed the threat was gone, and his attention was now focused on the amusing scene before him. Brian came beside him and watched the scene as well.
"Michael, you have got to marry that woman," he said plainly.
Michael turned to Brian and gave him a skeptical eye. Brian turned as well and shook his head slightly.
"Look, Michael, I'm your brother and I hate you. I also love you. Either way, I'll look out for you, and I mean it. You gotta keep this one."
Michael turned back to Melanie and the kids. They now had her on the ground and were trying to get pony rides from her.
"I don't think mom really likes her," Michael said.
"Fuck mom," Brian replied quickly. "Pop out a few kids and she'll come around."
He then took another swig of beer, patted his brother on the shoulder, and headed back into the house.
Michael smiled as he continued to watch the play. Nathan was quickly on the scene and his kids recruited him for pony rides. Melanie took the opportunity to escape and headed to Michael. She smiled broadly while she walked, almost as if she had just won first place in some important contest.
Michael took her in his arms, kissed her head and hugged her tightly.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
"Oh, if we must," she replied jokingly.
Chapter 8
The drive to Michael's house was pleasant and Melanie looked forward to the evening. She’d never been to his house, and his promise of a night in his residence was pleasing. She’d even packed a light bag for the night; she didn't think she would need much else.
"Your family is nice enough," she said as she watched the trees pass bye. Over to the east she could just see the mountains. It was getting late, but there was enough light to view the mounds rising into the sky.
"Oh, they're all right. They seemed to like you," Michael replied.
"I don't think your mother likes me," she said as she turned to him.
"I wouldn't say that," he said, and smiled at her. The look she threw back at him told him to stop lying. Michael shook his head and turned his attention to the road.
"Well, my brothers like you," he said instead of finishing his lie.
"I like them too. So, what's David like?" she asked curiously.
"Oh, about the same as us. He's an EMT, so he had to work today. He has an odd schedule," Michael told her and turned to her when he realized she was laughing hysterically.
"About the same as you?" she asked in between chuckles, "As if the four I met today are all the same. Seriously, Michael, other than your name, what do you have in common?"
Michael thought about it and shrugged his shoulders.
"So, what's Brian's story?" she asked. "Why do you guys hate each other?"
"We don't hate each other," Michael replied easily. "It's just that we're the oldest. I was the first-born and the one that our parents doted over. Brian came second and then David soon after so he got the middle child syndrome. Later, at school, he had some of the same teachers who played that silly comparison game. I got straight A's and he got C's."
"Ah," Melanie said. She understood what he was talking about. The schoolteachers probably asked more than once why Brian couldn't be like his brother Michael.
"And then there was my dad," Michael said.
"What about him?
" she asked.
"Well, I was always slated for college, and with Brian's grades and ability to work with his hands, my dad had him slated for taking over the plumbing business. When Brian didn't want it, there was a lot of tension. My dad put a lot of pressure on him. I think Brian resented me because I had a get out of jail free card. My parents expected me to go to college."
"Ooh, that must have angered Brian," she said.
"Yep, but I guess the biggest reason is that we're brothers and we're close in age. It was just a lot of rivalry growing up and it continues into adulthood."
"Well, I liked him," Melanie said.
"Good, he liked you too."
Melanie smiled at the comment and looked out the window. She thought about each brother in turn and her mind came to Nathan. He was a wonderful father, and Melanie said as much to Michael when she turned back to him.
"You didn't say that to him did you?" Michael asked with concern.
"No, why?"
"Oh, it's probably nothing," Michael replied. "It's just that when Victoria died giving birth to Joseph, Nathan took it as a personal mantra to be the best father he could. Fortunately, Victoria had a life insurance policy. Thank God. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough for him to buy a small two bedroom house, and then be able to get by on a part time job."
"Well that sounds very responsible," Melanie said as she envisioned Nathan tucking the kids in at night and making breakfast in the morning.
"Yeah, he lives very frugally, but he loves those kids. But, he doesn't date, he rarely goes out, and when he does, he's home early. He is not the kind of man to frequent a bar five nights a week.
"Sounds like his life is the children," Melanie commented.
"It is, and we all pull together to help him out. We've all babysat those little angels so he could go to a movie with a friend, or if he ended up working an odd shift."
"But he doesn't date?" Melanie asked.
Michael took his eyes off the road and looked to Melanie. His stare was serious, and he shook his head slowly. She understood the meaning.
"Did he love her that much?" she asked.
"Maybe," Michael replied as he returned his gaze to the road, "but he certainly romanticizes their relationship that much. I think he feels it would be an insult to her memory."
"Hmm," Melanie said.
She thought about the family as a whole and had to admit that they were certainly fun to be around; and those kids were cute as buttons.
They soon reached the house, and Melanie admired it from the outside. It was nothing ornate—a newer, simple, single story rambler in a quiet neighborhood with shrubs along the outside just below the windows. It was blue with white trim and the cement walk to the front door was tastefully decorated with potted plants.
"Nice," she said as she nodded her head.
"Well, it's no loft in downtown Seattle, but the bathroom is large enough."
Melanie gave him a mocking look and followed him inside. The entryway opened into a pleasing living room and while Michael made himself at home, Melanie stared at the artwork on the wall. Artwork was a stretch, what she really saw were drawings of buildings in various states of completion.
"Michael, did you do these?" she asked as she stared in amazement.
"Most of them," he said as he headed to the kitchen. He had leftover food from his mother's to put away. She continued to talk to him even though he was out of sight.
"These are fantastic," she said.
"Not really. It's just work. Besides, it's not art like your work."
"Still, I can see the skill and patience that it must have taken to draw these." She shook her head as she scrutinized the drawings.
She made her way over to a large framed picture; it was easily the size of one of her canvases. The building it displayed was a four-story unit with tinted glass, red brickwork for the upper floors and a marble face for the main level. Along the front were flower beds with multicolored specimens, and the artist had even taken the liberty to draw in hummingbirds. Melanie put her fingers to the glass and tried to feel the bird's wings. She knew she couldn't, but the blending effect made the wings so lifelike. Almost as if she were actually watching them beat fast enough to appear as a blur. Her eyes went to the bottom corner of the frame and she smiled when she found the name. Michael Angel was written on the paper with a pencil. It was dated two years prior.
"Do you like it?" he asked
Melanie turned around and stared at her lover. She smiled widely, and her eyes danced as she nodded her head. She turned back to the image and admired the details.
"But why did you add hummingbirds?" she asked.
"Oh, the clients like to see what their building can look like when it's done. The birds seemed natural. Don't you like them?"
"I love them," she answered without taking her eyes off the drawing.
"You know," she said absently, "you and I have a lot in common."
"We do?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yep," she said, "oh, the details are different, but we both like art, we both like music, and I think I like your brothers."
Michael laughed. "Well, that’s a start," he said. "I think we also share another common interest."
"Oh, what's that?"
Michael put his arms around her, bent his head to her neck and kissed her gently. He moved upward to her ear and bit the lobe. Melanie leaned back into him and enjoyed it. When Michael was done nibbling on her ear, he whispered to her.
Melanie's eyes opened wide as she listened. There was no need to determine if he was serious. He was already carefully freeing her from her pants, and his mouth was moving back to her neck.
"Okay," she whispered as her breathing picked up. "But next time, I get to give you a treat."
Michael smiled and gently bit into her shoulder. He would allow her to think that if she wanted. And who knew, maybe he would let her treat him. However, for the foreseeable future, he only wanted to pleasure her.
Chapter 9
A furrowed brow and look of deep contemplation spread across Michael's face. Melanie smiled as she watched him. She was in her loft, sitting on a bar stool, with her feet off the floor and set upon the rungs; they had to be, otherwise they might not reach the floor. Michael, seated on her couch with a sketchpad, began crushing his lips with his left hand while absently erasing something with his right. He was at a loss for what to do, and Melanie was amused. She also understood—often times she was in a similar situation.
Leaving her stool, she went to him and curled up on the couch. The building he was sketching wasn’t as grand as the one she had seen in the picture frame at his house, but it was impressive in its own right. The front entry was very large, and while most of the building was two stories, those floors were only functional as wings. The center to the building was a two-story glass showcase, ostensibly for an impressive lobby with vaulted ceilings.
Michael had taken the liberty to sketch in a large hanging piece of art from the high ceiling. It resembled an ornate chandelier, and Melanie could easily picture standing beneath such an object, bare feet on marble floor, looking up to admire its color and shape.
Not happy with its presence, Michael was currently erasing the artwork. Melanie frowned.
"Don't you like it?" she asked.
"It's just not right," he replied.
"I can relate to that," she laughed.
Michael didn't reply; he was still focused on his sketch and continued to erase. Melanie smiled at his concentration and wondered if this is what he saw when she focused on her work. She shrugged it off and glanced over to her easel; it still mocked her. She sighed heavy and shook her head.
"Trouble?" Michael asked.
When Melanie turned to him, he was watching her warmly. She smiled and put her head to his; all it took for him to leave his sketchpad was her discontentment about something; she found that endearing.
"Oh, it's just that I'm as stuck as you," she said.
Michael looked
to her artwork and frowned.
"I think it looks great," he said.
"I think your hanging art looks great," she replied.
Michael looked back to her as she pulled away from him. He just shook his head and chuckled.
"Touché," he said.
"Will you have it done in time?" she asked him.
"Oh, it's mostly done now. This is just a presentation sketch. It's something to show the client so they will be impressed."
"Well the artwork is impressive, but if it's not important then why not just leave it as is?"
Michael shrugged as he returned to erasing.
"It’s a matter of being right for me," he said. "I could let it go as is, but I prefer the sketch when it feels perfect."
"I wish I could get that feeling with my canvas. I stare at it and hope it will come to me, but it never does."
"Well you could stare at it, and I will come to you," Michael grinned.
Melanie chuckled and gave him a grin as she darted her eyebrows up and down. He was being cute, and she liked him for it. That cuteness was gone quickly when he set his sketchpad down and rotated himself off the couch and onto the floor. In a second, he was at her feet, smiling up at her and reaching for her skirt.
"Michael, I don't think this will help," she smiled.
"Oh, do you think it will hurt?" he said as he unbuttoned her skirt, pulled the zipper down her thigh and began to remove the garment.
"Well, I'm not going to complain, but I won't be able to concentrate on the canvas," she said, and then her face changed as she saw Michael's face change. He was biting his lower lip and had the oddest expression. She followed his gaze to her panties and when he whispered the word "Damn," she smiled broadly. He didn't see her smile; he was focused on the matchbook-sized piece of cloth pretending to be underwear.
Michael recovered and finished removing her skirt. As he reached for the strings that held the next garment, he spoke at her, not to her; he was too focused on her legs to do that.
"You just look at that canvas, relax, and let me help you," he said as he kissed her thigh and began to pull downward on her underwear. Melanie grabbed his hands tightly and stopped him. She held him so hard that he was forced to look up at her. She locked his gaze with her own, and hers had a wicked look to it.
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