by Wegner, Ola
“Thank you, but we haven’t discussed children yet,” she said, trying to sound diplomatic. “But if I had children one day, I would love for them to have a loving grandmother close by. My fondest childhood memories are connected with my granny who took care of me and my brother when my father was at work.” Amy looked at her mother-in-law, who was by this time all smiles, and had tears in her eyes.
However, when her eyes met Jake’s he was shaking his head and frowning at her. What was the matter? Didn’t he want his mother to live closer?
At last the meal came to end, and Jake proposed to drive Stacy to his old apartment, informing her at the same time that there was only one bedroom in Amy’s condo. But something tugged at Amy’s heart, and she interrupted him. She proposed that Stacy could stay with them this night because it was late already, if she didn’t mind sleeping on the couch in the living room. Obviously, Stacy didn’t mind, because she readily agreed. In the end, Amy brought clean sheets, and Jake helped to enfold the couch, which was a sleeper.
After the final goodnights, Stacy went to the guest bathroom, and Amy quickly put the kitchen to order. Jake insisted on helping her. His helping was usually more a source of irritation for her than a real help, because he trampled under her feet, and was in her way most of the time. Still it didn’t change the fact that she did appreciate his efforts. She’d heard too many stories about men who didn’t do a thing at home, or even tried to help. Men who treated women as servants, expecting them to do all the housework without so much as a simple thank you in return. Jake wasn’t like that, so far at least.
When they entered their bedroom, she dreamt only about the shower and bed, but Jake closed the door firmly behind them, and took hold of her arm.
“Why did you propose she stay?” It was his first question.
She gaped at him in surprise. “I thought it polite,” she explained defensively. “I really didn’t expect she would like to sleep on the couch. It’s not very comfortable and rather small.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll check her into a nice hotel,” he announced firmly. “We can’t allow her to stay here forever.”
“Forever? Jake, it’s only one night, besides she’s your mother,” Amy said, confused. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Sweetheart, I know she’s my mother, and I love her very much and respect her. I’m grateful for all that she did for me, for all the sacrifices she made when raising me, but believe me I know her. And I am a grown man, with a family of my own now. We must set the boundaries now otherwise she will try to live our life, and that can’t be good, neither for her and certainly nor for us.”
Amy glanced at him worriedly. “Won’t she get offended?”
“She won’t, trust me,” he said, before closing himself in the bathroom. Soon Amy heard the water running.
With a weary sigh, Amy lay back on the bed coverlet for a moment, then she remembered leaving her shopping bags in the hall by the front door. She should get them, she thought lazily. The coat would be crumpled folded in the bag for the entire night. Very slowly, she scrambled out of bed opened the door and walked into the hallway. To her surprise before her eyes appeared her mother in law tiptoeing down the corridor.
“I...is something’s wrong?” Amy asked utterly confused.
Stacy gaped at her for a moment, then laughed unnaturally, her expression clearly embarrassed. “No, it’s just, well, I’m looking for the bathroom.”
Amy frowned. She’d been in the guest bathroom before so she shouldn’t look for it next to their bedroom. “It’s on the other end of the corridor.” Amy pointed with her finger. “It doesn’t have a bathtub, but there’s a small shower in it.”
“Oh, thank you, my dear. Goodnight,” Stacy said quickly, turned back and promptly walked away.
“Goodnight,” Amy whispered back, picking up her bags and returning to the bedroom as Jack was leaving the bathroom.
“What’s wrong?” he asked seeing her bemused expression.
“Nothing, it’s just...” Amy frowned. “I walked outside because I remembered I left my shopping bags by the front door.” She showed him the bags. “And I saw your mum there. She was behaving a bit strange, standing just outside our bedroom. She said she was looking for the bathroom. But it doesn’t make any sense, because she’s been in the guest bathroom before, hasn’t she?”
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
“Jake!” Amy gasped in surprise.
He drew her to him, kissing her forehead. It was nice to feel his warm, slightly wet chest against her cheek. “Sorry sweetheart. But I’m pretty sure she’s been doing a bit of spying.”
Amy’s eyes widened. “You mean she’s spying on us?”
He shook his head and sighed. “No, more likely trying to overhear whether we are making a grandchild for her.”
“No,” Amy breathed.
Jake growled. “Oh, yes.”
“Perhaps it’s not that bad an idea with that hotel,” Amy murmured dryly, stepping away from him to her closet.
“Told you.” He came behind her. “You’ve gone shopping today?” he asked, putting on his t-shirt, “Show me what you bought?” He glanced at the bags she brought.
She turned to him, surprised by his interest. “Just some clothes,” she said reluctantly, trying to stuff the huge bag containing her new coat into the closet.
“Come on, show me,” he coaxed her.
“A winter coat, and a dress,” she admitted at last. “You really want to see it?” she gave him a doubtful look.
“Sure,” he said, sitting on the bed and drying his hair with a towel.
“Nice.” He touched the coat when she took it out. “The color suits you. But I’m not sure about this dress.”
Amy frowned. “Why? I like it. It’s good for work, elegant.” She stood in front of the mirror and put the dress up to her.
“It’s too long, you should wear something shorter,” he announced.
Amy’s eyes narrowed and she snorted. “If you imagine you’ll get me into a mini skirt...”
“No, no, but something ending here.” He touched her leg just above the knee.
Amy frowned. “I don’t have legs for such a length.”
“What’s wrong with your legs?” He eyed her legs, clad in the smart slacks she wore to work today. “They’re just fine.”
“They’re short,” she snapped.
“Of course they’re short, how can they be long, if you’re short,” he reasoned.
She rolled her eyes. “Very funny. Only tall girls with long sleek slim legs look good in shorter dresses.”
“That’s nonsense,” he cried. “Your legs are not the longest but very shapely, with nice soft thighs, slim calves and cute little feet,” he murmured, his eyes on her lower body. “You should go tomorrow and buy yourself something nice and shorter.”
“No, I don’t need another dress,” Amy pronounced defiantly, trying to hide how much his comment about her body affected her. “Besides I’ve spent too much already. I’m feeling pretty guilty about it.”
Jake frowned and pulled her to him. “Amy, I want you to buy yourself whatever you want,” he whispered tenderly, combing the wisps of hair away from her face. “You don’t have to economize. We can afford for you to have all the nice things you want, without feeling guilty about it.”
He must have felt her stiffen in his arms, so he pushed her from him at arm’s length and tilted up her chin.” You haven’t used that credit card I gave you, have you? You’re still paying for everything from your own salary, aren’t you?”
She bit her lower lip, averting her eyes.
“Is it so hard to accept anything from me?” he demanded angrily.
“Lower your voice, we’re not alone,” she hissed. “I have accepted enough from you, you helped my father, you don’t need to buy me clothes.”
She saw that he was angry, and he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
From the c
orner of her eye she saw him as he pulled the coverlet away and slipped in the bed with one of his magazines.
She shrugged her shoulders, collected fresh underwear, and moved to the bathroom. She took a long relaxing bath before she returned to the bedroom. The room was in semi darkness, lit only by a small lamp on her side of the bed. Jake looked like he was sleeping soundly already. It was clear he wasn’t in the mood to talk to her. Slipping under the covers on her side, she turned the light down, and the room went completely dark.
Jake lay on his side as far away from her as it was possible, which was so strange because he always kept so close to her. Suddenly she felt bereft. She’d already managed to get used to his close presence at night.
With a sigh, she rolled toward him, and cuddled up to his back.
“You’re sleeping?” she asked in a small voice.
“Yes,” his very clear reply came.
Her hand draped over his waist and she stroked his chest through his cotton t-shirt.
“I didn’t want to upset you,” she whispered, but he didn’t respond. She snuggled closer, and involuntarily pressed her breasts into his back. “If it’s so important to you, you can take me shopping one day to buy me something.”
He rolled onto his back. “I want you to use the credit cards I gave you.”
“Ok, I will,” she relented. “But just for buying food and other household expenses.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” she agreed. To her quiet relief he drew her to him, pulled her partially onto him, tucked her head under his chin, and his warm hand rested on her hip. Amy closed her eyes and relaxed in the comfort of his arms.
Suddenly they both jerked up as the sound of a loud bang was heard in the corridor.
“A burglar?” Amy whispered, from behind Jake’s arm.
“Stay here,” he ordered.
He walked to the door, opened it quietly, and walked into a corridor.
He returned after a while. “What was that?” Amy asked, her eyes big.
“The door’s locked and the hall’s empty,” he whispered, slipping under the covers, and drawing her back into his arms. “But your vase is trashed to pieces.”
Amy grimaced. “The green one? I loved it.”
“I cleaned up the larger pieces, but don’t go out without your slippers in the morning. I think that our guest was looking for her way to the bathroom again.”
“No,” Amy breathed in disbelief.
Jake only nodded. “Yes. But I think she won’t try, again.” He kissed her forehead, tucking her into his arms. “Go to sleep.”
Chapter Nine
It was Wednesday morning and the fifth week of her marriage. Amy sat at the table, trying very hard not to stare at her husband when he was devouring the pancakes she’d just made for him. The newspaper in one hand, the fork in the other, he didn’t look at her, clearly entirely occupied with the content of his plate and the article in the newspaper.
It was all so very strange, she concluded taking a bite of her own pancake. For the last few weeks she’d felt definitely ...well happy. As happy as she’d rarely been in the past. Who would have thought that? When she’d agreed to this marriage she’d thought she condemned herself to two long years of misery, a life with a total stranger, some cold bastard, some weirdo. But obviously her dark scenarios had proved to be very wrong, and very fast too, so far at least.
It was hard...no, it was impossible to be unhappy with a man who was constantly so good to her. Contrary to her previous, very rare boyfriends, Jake seemed to be focused entirely on her, and not on himself. From the start, she’d been absolutely determined to keep her distance, and only tolerate him for her father’s sake. However, how could any woman stay indifferent when a guy was invariably kind and attentive, never missing an occasion to touch her or say something nice to her? Wanting it or not she became more and more receptive to his attentions.
She presumed that part of the attraction was that she at last had someone to take care of. Even as a little girl, she’d loved playing house. Despite the fact she’d still been at school, she’d enjoyed running the house for her father and brother after her mother had left them. She’d lavished her attention on them, until her father married Claire. Then she’d felt that she needed to move out. Now, her nurturing instincts could bloom properly again.
She enjoyed waiting for Jake with dinner, knowing he would come back tired and exhausted, but upon seeing her he would smile. It was so nice to feel needed and appreciated, to feel the man’s, dare she say, adoring eyes following her everywhere. Sometimes she felt it was a dream that she would awaken from most cruelly one day. But the next day would come without disturbance and she would again wake up in Jake’s arms.
On a more domestic level, as a flat mate, Jake Barry wasn’t that bad either. Never having lived with a man before, she didn’t have much material for comparison, but for sure he was much less messy than her own brother. He didn’t help much with the housework, apart from insisting to carry the groceries. Not that she minded, not really. She liked to clean everything on her own, secretly thinking no one could do it as well as she. She’d been forced to teach him to lower the toilet lid, and he still tended to forget about it from time to time. But she’d often heard it to be typical for men, so she showed understanding. The thing she really appreciated was that he left the bathroom spotless after using it. An even nicer thing was that he seemed to be constantly surprised that she cooked for him or did anything for him. One time when he came back from work, and saw her ironing his shirt, he was so grateful she thought, any moment, he’d kneel and thank her for that. He seemed to really value her efforts even the smallest things, which she did for him.
For his part, he took care of her as well. Despite his very busy schedule he’d found time to take her to a nice restaurant and to the movies, three times so far. And when she finished late on Tuesdays and Thursdays he always picked her up. Laura laughed that her husband should buy him a beer, having all these evening free, thanks to Jake. She also noticed he made the effort to take an interest in things that were important to her. One time he even went with her to see one of the houses. He hadn’t been very helpful with that, because when asked about his opinion he’d said that the house looked good and that they could buy it if she liked it. After that, Amy concluded that purchasing a house was not important to him except for one condition; that it had a spare garage to store his sports car. It was her decision to choose a house in which to live.
Unavoidably her condo was becoming more masculine in character. There were his toiletries in the bathroom, and some sports and financial magazines lying everywhere. And there was a TV. The day after she’d told him that she hadn’t owned one, she returned from work and on walking into the living room she stopped in tracks. Some furniture had been moved aside, pictures that hung on the wall had been removed, and there was a huge, flat plasma TV on the wall.
For the first few moments, she just stared at it, mouth wide open. The TV certainly didn’t match well with her furniture and generally the entire design of the room. It was too big and too modern, too shiny and generally out of place there. She made a mental note to the list of things desirable in the new house, a separate place that could be turned into a kind of TV room. She even considered asking him to remove it, after all he hadn’t asked her whether she wanted it in the first place. But he seemed to be so happy to have it. He’d explained all the functions, the number of pixels, and stressed that there were over three hundred channels, and many of them which he ordered especially for her. He was so excited about this, beaming like a little boy who got his first football or a bike that she conceded to the idea of having a fifty-inch flat screen hanging on the wall in her living room. After all, it wasn’t like forever.
Hunting for a house had turned out to be fruitless. She’d seen some twenty houses so far, but she didn’t like any of them. She started to be irritated with herself for being so undecided, and so demanding about it, but Jake cheered her u
p, saying that it was a very important decision, and there was no hurry. But Amy dared to disagree. Moving to the new house would take away the excuse of sleeping in one room, and most important in one bed, because understandably the new house would have a few spare bedrooms.
Not that sharing the bed with Jake was that unbearable, far from it. She was frankly a bit terrified at how fast she’d managed to get used to his presence. Every day it was getting less and less awkward to have him in her bed. She wasn’t even sure if she still wanted separate bedrooms. He didn’t snore and if he did it was very quietly and he had, usually, to be very tired to do that. And, at the end of a long day, when she was dead on her feet, it was nice to have somebody with whom to cuddle. Especially someone so warm, strong and smelling so nice. She’d never of course reached for him on her own, but he seemed to have little problem with reading her moods and perceiving the moment when she craved a little physical contact, which happened quite often she had to admit.
He always behaved, and never tried to push her into making love. When holding her, he placed his hand on her waist, around her arms or on her back. But in the mornings, when occasionally she didn’t wake up crushed by his arm, or thigh, he was cuddled behind her, and then his hand was either on her hip or more often on her breast. At those times she felt his erection, pressing firmly against her buttocks. But she knew this condition was usual for men in general in the morning, so after the shock of the first time when she’d felt it, it had stopped bothering her. She accepted it as something normal, even expected.
“Amy?” Jake’s voice drew her abruptly from her thoughts. “Amy, are you ok?”
Blinking rapidly, she focused her vision on him. He was looking at her with concern.
“You haven’t been listening to me,” he stated. “Everything all right?” He peered at her curiously.
“Yes, I was lost in my thoughts.” She shrugged with a smile. “That’s all.”
He searched her face. “Thinking of me?” he drawled, making her blush.
“You were,” he murmured huskily with satisfaction, leaning back into his chair.
