Forevermore

by Lynn Galli

  Half the class bolted for the door, but the rest went to surround M and ask questions. Normally it would only be a few people, but she must have given them something harder today. Since I was done with my homework already, I sat back in M’s desk chair and pulled out a library book to read. It was about a teen who’d been made into a tour guide hologram for Disney World and finds out many of the evil characters are real and trying to break out of Disney to take over the world. Caleb recommended it. He was already on the fourth in the series. I liked the other series he told me to get about triplet decedents of Medusa better, but I finished those. Before M’s house, I never read anything for fun because it was so hard and I didn’t know how to find something good. But trips to the library were a regular occurrence for this family. So was reading a chapter before bed every night. M had shown me some tricks to help me read better, like looking at the first and last letters and length of the word instead of trying to string all the letters together when they seemed to jump around on me. She got me to focus on the pattern of a word, not all the letters and now I always carried a book to read for fun.

  “What’re you reading?” one of the guys in the class asked me as he dropped an assignment on M’s desk. I glanced up and showed him the cover of the book. “Read that one. It’s pretty good. You’ll like the ending.”

  “Don’t spoil it for her, Joel,” M called out as she waved off the rest of the people surrounding her and made her way up the tiered rows to her desk.

  “I wasn’t, Prof,” he protested, holding his hands up. “Just thought she’d like to know that the kid gets—”

  “Joel!” M snapped at him.

  He started laughing really hard, like getting M to snap at him was his goal. “Just kidding,” he said to me. “Must be fun living with Prof.”

  “Get out of here,” M said in a stern tone that wasn’t really all that stern.

  He sauntered out just as Briony appeared in the doorway. She looked exhausted as she usually did on Wednesdays when she had department meetings.

  “My two favorite people.” Briony walked toward us and gave M a kiss before leaning down to kiss the top of my head. Other foster parents would kiss my cheek or head and all I’d want to do was wipe away the spot. I never felt that way with them.

  “How was the meeting?” M asked her.

  “Useless, as always. Remind me why I decided to accept a chair position?”

  “Because you’re good at it?” I guessed because we all had to be positive for Briony on department meeting days.

  “Because you thought it would come with a really nice chair?” M joked and got a smack to the shoulder for it.

  Briony slipped her arm around me. “What do you two have planned for your girls’ night? You sure you don’t want to join Lex, Javi, and me?”

  “Nope, you have fun with your friends,” M told her. “You don’t get a night out with them alone often, and Liv and I have big plans.”

  “What?” Briony’s eyes sparkled with interest.

  “You’ll find out.”

  I knew it wouldn’t be something that Briony would be mad she missed. That wasn’t how they treated each other. Other families would get into huge fights when one person got to spend a night out and the other one was stuck with the kids. Especially if that person spent all of their money for the week at a bar. Briony wouldn’t do that, and M liked hanging out with Caleb and me as much as her adult friends.

  “No secrets now,” Briony goaded, reaching out to tickle M.

  “You’ll just have to wait to be jealous of our fun.” M shuffled away from Briony’s fingers.

  “I should join your girls’ night.”

  “You should, but Alexa won’t let you out and Javier needs you to help rein her in.”

  I snickered. Alexa and Javier, two other professors, acted like an old married couple without being a couple. They were funny together and always talked directly to me like the best of Briony and M’s friends. They were like Willa, Quinn, Jessie, and Lauren who didn’t treat me like I was six and a sad little orphan. Or worse like they couldn’t understand why Briony and M would want me to live with them. It wasn’t like their other friends weren’t nice to me. It was just that some of them didn’t understand why someone would foster when they could have their own kids.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you, missy?” Briony’s teasing smile turned toward me, her fingers spread out for attack. Tickling was her special torture for Caleb and me.

  I ducked behind M, giggling. This no longer reminded me of my mom who used to tickle me. Now I only thought of the times Briony surprised me or Caleb or especially M with her tickle fingers.

  “Enough fun, sweetheart.” M pulled her away from me before I started crying from laughing so hard. “You’d better get moving if you don’t want those two tracking you down in the hallways. It’s always so much worse if they have to come find you.”

  Briony’s smile went from teasing to tender when she looked into M’s eyes. My stomach got warm tingles whenever I saw proof of how much they loved each other. I’d lived in two homes with single parents and five homes with married people. Briony and M haven’t been married very long, so maybe that’s why they still loved each other. The other couples didn’t even seem to like each other anymore. Some of them thought that fighting was their entertainment for the evening. I’d never heard Briony and M fight. They didn’t agree on everything, but they found a middle ground pretty quickly.

  Briony slid her arms around M’s waist. She gave her a another kiss. Caleb sometimes gets embarrassed by any affection they showed, but I didn’t mind.

  “I love you,” she whispered then took a step back and looked at me. “I love you, too, sweetie.” She reached an arm over and dragged me into a group hug. “You girls have fun tonight.”

  I turned to M and smiled, happier than I’d been in a really long time. We had nights out alone at least once a month. Then Briony would get pretend jealous and make up a reason for us to have a night out alone. They did the same with Caleb, but it always made me feel super special when they’d take me somewhere by myself.

  “Are you ready?” M asked me, reaching for her computer bag.

  “What are we doing?” I bounced on my toes waiting to hear.

  “The community center is sponsoring a cooking class at our favorite Greek restaurant. They’re teaching their secrets to the best gyros, which will make Caleb our grateful servant when we add it to the dinner rotation. What do you think?”

  “Ooh, yeah, please. That sounds really fun. Are you sure you’ll like it?” I had to ask because M didn’t cook dinner often. She usually took care of breakfast and made sandwiches for lunch, but unless she was grilling, Briony did most of the dinner cooking.

  “Sure, I will. It’ll be fun with you.” She slid an arm around my shoulder and squeezed briefly. She didn’t often show affection like this, but I didn’t ever feel like I missed it. She made sure we all knew how much she cared for us. “Let’s go have some fun.”

  I wanted to thank her and call her Mom because this was something only a mother would do for her child, but she hadn’t said I should. Those other families who forced us to call them Mom and Dad did it so we’d feel included. But I always felt like it disrespected my mom. Now that I’d been with Briony and M for eight months, I wanted to call them Mom or Momma or something that signified how much they meant to me. When they did things like this for me, over and above giving me a home, food, and clothing, I wouldn’t feel guilty that I wanted them to be my real parents. My mom wouldn’t mind because they were so good to me and loved me. I was sure she’d be happy about it.

  M / 10

  Morning sunlight filtered through the teal curtains in our bedroom. The growing heat and brightness woke me fully. Briony slept on beside me. Her hand lay on my shoulder, something she did throughout the night as if she had to stay connected to me at all times.

  I rolled onto my side and studied my partner. I loved being able to say that, loved having a pa
rtner. For someone as damaged as I’d been, I never even hoped to be in this position.

  Wheat blond hair brushed forward over her neck and pushed out behind her on the pillow. My fingers came up to drift down her neck, the skin soft and warm beneath my touch. I traced a path down to the straps of the camisole she was wearing and onto her shoulder.

  “Morning,” her husky voice broke my concentration. She tilted toward me and stretched, her golden eyes blinking in the morning light.

  “Good morning.” I watched her morning ritual with all the fascination I’d given it the first time we spent the night together.

  She smiled and cocked her head, listening for any other sounds of life in the house. It was still a half hour before one of the kids would usually be up. Her smile flared when she didn’t hear anything. Her stretch lengthened, pushing me onto my back so she could cover me with her whole body.

  “Hello,” I smiled up at her. My hands gripped her hips then skimmed up her sides, dipping under the camisole to appreciate her lean torso better.

  She dropped a kiss on my mouth. “God, it feels like ages since I’ve had my hands on you.”

  “It’s only been a week.” Last Saturday night to be precise when both Caleb and Olivia were sound asleep by nine-thirty after a long day of indoor laser tag. My laughter died in a groan when her mouth dragged down my throat.

  “A very long week.” Her lips traced the angle of my V-neck shirt. Her hands ducked under the hem and pushed upward. “You feel better each time I touch you.”

  I brought her camisole up and forced her mouth away from me to get it off. I took advantage of her raised position and ran my hands up the front of her to cup her breasts. I could never get enough of them. My thumbs swiped over the pale pink buds, bringing them to erect points.

  She hissed and swooped down to kiss me. Soft lips and a surging tongue stoked the embers in my stomach. Her hands eagerly pushed at my t-shirt to bare my chest and mimic my caresses. A thigh dipped in between my legs and pushed against my suddenly throbbing center. Before Briony I’d never felt these sensations before. Now, in less than a minute, I could go from tranquil to desperately needy.

  I reached down to strip off her shorts and let my hands skate back up over her rear. Desperation fueled my touch, but it warred with the need to drag it out. My breath was already ragged as I strained up against her thigh. Her fingers pulled at my underwear. I helped, frantic to slide my hot skin against hers.

  Kisses rained down my chest, headed exactly where I needed. Her lips sucked my nipple into her mouth. My back arched off the mattress, following the suction of her lips. Her masterful tongue lapped and teased. It wasn’t until her husky chuckle that I remembered I had hands and a mouth of my own.

  The chuckle died in her throat as my fingers grasped her nipples and tweaked just so. “Oh, yes, M,” she moaned as I repeated the maneuver. “Just like that.”

  Her mouth was still making me brainless, but I knew we didn’t have all morning. Leisurely lovemaking had to be left to the nights when the kids were already in bed. A stolen morning meant fast, sometimes hard, but always explosive.

  I slid a hand down her side and over her lower back, adding pressure to bring her fully onto me. Her pelvis fit to mine, both legs slipping between my thighs. Her face turned up to look at me with a sexy fire lighting her eyes. She circled her hips against me, fierce and powerful grinding. Little puffs of air pushed against my lips with her efforts.

  Thunder sounded in rhythmic pounds from above, halting our motions. If I didn’t know better I’d think a large animal herd was coming down the stairs instead of just one boy. I sighed and Briony groaned.

  “Cross your fingers he can entertain himself,” I whispered and rolled my pelvis against hers again.

  “I did thank you for insisting we add sound insulation to the bedrooms and bathrooms when we renovated, didn’t I?” Her eyes twinkled down at me.

  I felt a blush bloom on my cheeks remembering how Des had reacted when I asked for the insulation on the interior walls. I’d done it as much for the necessary quiet I needed to sleep as for the privacy we’d need to talk without Caleb overhearing and for moments like this. Nothing would embarrass me more if Briony’s son or our foster daughter could hear us making love.

  I tunneled my hand between us and cupped her, effectively ending her tease. She was wet and plump and gorgeous in my hand. She wouldn’t last long. After years of making love with her, I could sense her climax almost before she could.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Mom? You up yet?” Caleb’s raised voice reached us through the solid wood of the bedroom door. “We’re out of pancake mix.”

  Briony gave a long, loud groan. He might have heard that one. “I’ll be there in a minute,” she called back, stilling her hips and shoving up onto stiff arms. She shook her head and gave me an apologetic look. “Dammit.”

  I chuckled at her exasperation. We’d been interrupted before, but like she said, it had been a long week. She moved to get up, but my hands gripped her in place. I shook my head and gave her a determined look. My fingers went to work.

  “We don’t have enough time,” she whispered and moaned as I zeroed in on her engorged clit.

  “You’re almost there.” Adding the pressure she always needed to climax, I circled with one finger before sliding my hand lower. Her hips tilted automatically, seeking and needing what we both wanted. I didn’t make her wait. My index and middle fingers plunged into her silky depths. If we had more time, I would have drawn it out, slipping one then another inside her. Her moan told me she didn’t mind my hastiness. I pumped into her with my hips. She rocked against me, letting breathy sounds escape her lips against my ear. I added a thumb to her clit, rubbing just right. “You need this, Bri. Come for me.”

  Her hips thrust hard against my hand. She leaned down to take my mouth in a savage kiss that was both demanding and preventative in keeping her usual exclamations from escaping. I felt the telltale flutters around my thrusting fingers before she went rigid and contractions squeezed my fingers to the sound of her muffled groan.

  Her body dropped onto me in a boneless heap as her breath brushed over my neck. Nothing felt better than satisfying the woman I loved. “That was…God, Mabel.” She didn’t seem to have the energy to finish the thought.

  I smiled at her sated state. Sparks raced through me every time she used my name. I never liked it, even when Kathryn called me by the name she’d chosen. But now, in these private moments with my partner, one whispered “Mabel” and I’d feel like I was falling in love all over again.

  My hands rubbed her smooth back. This always reenergized her. She’d shift and shudder, milking the back rub for every second. Truthfully, I could stay in this position for hours, but we didn’t have that luxury.

  “Let me,” she began, hands drifting down my sides.

  I stopped their movement. “Not enough time. Somebody needs to be talked out of pancakes.”

  “That kid!” she complained mockingly. “Here’s the deal. I’ll get French toast started and join you in the shower where we can finish this.”

  I nodded, not counting on her being able to keep the promise because that was the life of a parent. As she pulled on her camisole, I found her shorts and reached for the robe she kept on one of the chairs in our room. I’d lounge here for ten minutes before getting up. Saturdays took some reserve energy to get through.

  An hour later, the kids were fed and those special shower promises had been kept. I was still tingling from the refreshing wake up and made a note to set the alarm early for next Saturday so we could start the day the same way.

  Caleb finished loading the dishwasher and turned it on. “Whose turn is it today?” He asked this every Saturday morning, even when he knew it wasn’t his turn. He always hoped that we’d forget that it wasn’t his turn and let him choose.

  “Olivia’s,” Briony told him in a tone that said she knew exactly what he was trying.

  This had been a routine she se
t up with Caleb after his other mom died. Briony put a lot of emphasis on doing activities together that didn’t involve a television or game monitor and helped to widen his interests. Family time could be anything from throwing a Frisbee at the park to painting mugs at a pottery store to bike rides and countless other little activities that didn’t break the bank. It taught the kids to make their own fun without the aid of television or gossiping with friends.

  Changing my usual quiet Saturday plans had been one of those adjustments that worked out well and made me feel like a more complete person for it. I’d always been happy to hibernate on the weekends to decompress and maybe hang out with Willa or help out Hank and Lucille with something around their house. Having to come up with group activities that hopefully everyone would enjoy turned out not to be the pressure cooker I worried it would.

  “Six Flags,” Caleb tried to mask his suggestion behind a cough.

  We all laughed because he said this every weekend even when it was his mom’s turn to pick. Olivia would never ask for something like that because she was very aware of the cost of things. I understood where she was coming from but didn’t want it to be an issue. Once we adopted her, and I was now almost certain she’d let us, we’d work on getting her to be more of a kid than an accountant.

  I waited for her choice. She’d only just begun to pick things she really liked. In the first few months, she’d pick something one of us would always pick like she was afraid that if she decided on an activity that only she liked, we’d have a reason to make her leave.

  “Rollerblading,” she said, and while she knew it was one of my favorite things to do, it had become one of her favorites, too.

  “Rad! Can Hank come with us?” Caleb asked his mom and ran toward the phone as soon as she gave her usual nod. “Livy, phone for you,” he called out from the kitchen. We all stared at each other because we hadn’t heard the phone ring and no one had ever called for Olivia.