Authors: Nikki Vale
“What grandma?” Summer asks.
“Babies! Where are the children? I have three beautiful granddaughters and no grandbabies,” she exclaims.
“Don’t look at me! Skye’s the only one with a boyfriend,” Summer points out.
Skye and I dig into our food and pretend we don’t hear the conversation going on around us. Judging by the googly eyes Dawn is giving Scott’s friend Noah, she might have a boyfriend by the end of dinner. But gentleman that I am, I don’t point that out. Instead, I slip my hand under the table and up Skye’s dress. Her thigh is silky smooth against my hand.
I try to slide my hand in-between her thighs but she abruptly closes her legs. I continue steadily eating with my right hand and seeking entrance between Skye’s thighs with my left. I run my fingers back and forth over the crease between her thighs until she slowly starts to part them. I practically growl my triumph as I cup the inside of her thigh allowing the edge of my hand to brush against her slit.
Skye’s teeth clamp down on her fork and she briefly closes her eyes trying to collect herself. I press my hand farther up her thigh lodging the ridge of my hand against her most sensitive parts. I can feel Skye make the tiniest of undulations against my hand. I look around the table and everyone is lost in their own conversations now.
I look at Skye and she looks at me. I can tell she’s biting the inside of her bottom lip as she pushes herself clit into my sliding hand. I give an almost imperceptive nod but she catches on quickly, grabbing a napkin to wipe her mouth and excusing herself from the table. I keep eating giving my erection time to soften before I get up and follow behind her. I exit the dining room past the kitchen and see her going up the stairs motioning for me to follow.
I reach the top of the stairs and she grabs me by the hand pulling me into the first room to the right. I immediately pin her against the wall devouring her mouth with mine. I undo my pants and release my turgid cock lifting her up against the wall and immediately impaling her with it. I already knew she was wet and ready for me from the stroking under the table.
I slam up into her and immediately cover her cries of pleasure with my hand. I thrust into her mercilessly hard and fast until I feel her vaginal walls pulsing around me signaling her orgasm. I continue pounding into her over and over until my balls tighten signaling my own swiftly approaching release. I lean back reaching between us and find her clit rubbing furiously as I continue thrusting, causing her to quickly reach a second orgasm, and then I finally let go cumming with her.
I remove myself from inside of her and guide her as she slides down the wall to her feet. “You have to hurry back,” I warn her. “I’ll come a few minutes behind you.” Skye nods her head, adjusts her skirt and walks out the door heading down the stairs. I tuck myself back into my jeans and fasten them. I peak my head out the door noting that the coast is clear and walk down the hallway in search of a bathroom. I find one and I walk inside to wash my hands. I check my reflection, nothing looks out of place, accept the glassy look in my eyes and the dopey smile on my face.
I head back downstairs and stop by the kitchen to pick up a pie bringing it into the dining room as an alibi. “Anyone ready for pie?” I ask waltzing into the room. I see Skye back in her seat. And I think we’re in the clear until I hear Summer say.
“I think Skye and Cooper took Granny’s request for a baby to heart and went for a quickie,” she loudly comments, silencing the room. All eyes turn to me.
“Summer!” her mother gasps horrified.
She is forever needling me. I look down at the lemon meringue pie in my hand and calmly walk over to Summer and gently smoosh it in her face. “Now who’s got egg on her face?” I say. Summer actually starts laughing and everyone else joins in.
“I was wondering when you’d finally fight back,” Summer laughs, wiping pie off her face with her hands and eating it. “At least, you picked my favorite kind of pie.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Skye
I can’t believe it’s already New Year’s Eve. This year was the best Christmas in years, hands down. Things only got funnier after the pie in the face incident. I think Cooper’s and my family will be happy to come together for many more holidays to come. Jade said she was going to Africa to visit relatives, but she would love to visit again when comes back to the states.
I think Dawn might be seeing Noah. They stared across the table throughout the entire meal and afterward they partnered with each other during all the family games. I asked Summer why Jason’s wife didn’t attend and she told me that they were separated and that she didn’t want him to spend Christmas alone, so she invited him to join us and he accepted.
Dawn never mentioned her breakdown or apology and pretty much acted like it never happened. We still don’t really talk to one another, but I’m not worried about that right now I’ve got bigger fish to fry. My therapist thinks I need closure with my father. She just about blew a gasket when she found out his grave is here in Acorn Grove and I’ve never been to visit it.
She says that I’m still holding on and that my father’s death won’t be quite real to me until I see the evidence of it myself. I don’t know of she’s right or not but I’m willing to try it. I looked up the cemetery where my father is buried and it’s only a ten-minute walk from Cooper’s house. It’s cold outside but it’s no longer snowing and there’s less than an inch of snow on the ground so I decide to walk.
I put on my snow boots and a snow jacket instead of my pea coat. I add a knit cap and gloves and head out the door locking it behind me. I start to down the quiet sidewalks leaving fresh prints in the snow. I don’t know why I didn’t think to visit my father’s grave myself? Maybe in my heart of hearts, I was afraid to face the truth. He’s truly gone.
When I reach the cemetery I see that it’s a decent size but not daunting. I should have asked my mother where his headstone is, but I didn’t tell anyone I was coming. I think I just decided this morning that I wanted to start the New Year looking into the future and not the past. I feel my stomach start to rumble in protest against my breakfast as I walk amongst the tombstones. Apparently hardboiled eggs and grapefruit don’t mix.
I feel like I’m wandering aimlessly. This cemetery is starting to feel bigger than it first appeared. I might have to give up. I look up and I spot a woman in a yellow scarf a few rows up from me. “Excuse me. Miss?” I call out. Maybe she works here. I pick my pace walking around some taller headstones, but I no longer see her. Something lying on one of the headstones catches my eye.
It’s yellow. As I get closer to it I see it’s a scarf, lying across the headstone of Chogan Williams. It’s my father’s grave. The tears start to come forth without effort and I fall to my knees placing my gloved hands against the cold marble.
“Can you see me, Daddy? I’m here. I made it. I finally came to say goodbye. I’m sorry I couldn’t do it before now. I didn’t want to let you go,” I cry, knowing he can’t hear me. I feel a song weighing on my heart and regret at never having the chance to say goodbye. Krista Seigfrids’ song ‘Can You See Me’ pulls at my mind and tugs at my heart. The words to the song begin to magically slip from between my lips. The tears continue to roll down my cheeks as I finish the last verse.
“Yes, he can see you, Skye,” I hear come from behind me. I turn my head and see an old woman with her hair dyed red and an inch of white at the roots. She smiles at me revealing perfectly straight white teeth that look out of place on her wrinkled face. She can’t be a day younger than eighty but she has the eyes, teeth, and hands of a twenty-year-old. I feel a shiver run through me.
“Margie? What are you doing here?” I ask in astonishment, feeling more than a little disturbed.
“Your father can see you, Skye. He says he’s proud of you for looking out for your sisters. For letting go of your fears and finding love,” she continues. I shrink back in fear and yet I feel hope blossoming in my chest.
“My daddy sees me?” I beseech her, crumpling into a heap on the ground pouring out my sorrows in the form of tears.
“No more crying dear Skye. Your father sent me to tell you that it’s time to let go,” she enlightens me. She leans down and places a hand on my shoulder and I feel a calm wash over me, just like I did the other times she touched me in the past. I wipe the tears from my cheeks and stand before her. “My time with you is almost at an end. He says to protect the child,” she warns me. “I must leave you now, but one more thing before I go………DUCK!” she shouts pushing me to the ground.
I immediately duck into a ball and roll into a crouching position behind my father’s tombstone as two bullets in quick succession whiz by. I look quickly behind me already knowing what I’ll see. Nothing. Margie is gone.
I take a risk by peeking over the headstone and see Trixie coming straight at me. She’s not attempting to take cover at all. I pull my nine-millimeter beretta out of my conceal carry holster. Too bad for her, I’m ready this time. I reach around the side of my barricade and shoot her in her right leg. A look of shock crosses her face as she stumbles, but she doesn’t fall. Either the adrenaline or the crazy keeps her going, but she finally gets a clue and takes cover behind some headstones of her own.
I feel like I’m going to retch. Margie said to take care of the child. Oh shit! Now is not the time to figure something like this out. I know now that I’ve got more than myself to worry about. I hear sirens in the background. Thank you, Jesus! The cavalry has arrived. Trixie hears them too because she starts firing wildly in my direction.
I get down on my belly and low-crawl as fast as I can behind a bigger headstone. I know that Trixie is, at least, three rows ahead of me but I don’t hear any shots coming from her anymore.
“Don’t move. Put your hands in the air!” I hear Jon commanding from a bullhorn behind the police cruiser.
Trixie suddenly walks around the corner of my tombstone firing off a shot. I aim my gun and squeeze my trigger in quick response before I feel a slug slam into my chest. I fall to the ground and Trixie follows, falling forward on top of me. She’s not moving so I lay here trying to catch my breath.
After a few moments, I feel a weight being yanked off of me and I’m suddenly staring into panic-stricken crystal blue eyes. Cooper is running his hands over my body. “You’re bleeding,” he says in horror. I try to sit up and he holds me down still searching for a gunshot wound. I start frantically swatting his hands away. I need to sit up. I shove him away as hard as I can and quickly turn my head away and vomit.
“I’m okay. The baby’s okay, It’s not my blood,” I say taking deep breaths. I slowly lift up the end of my sweater and the t-shirt beneath, to reveal his Christmas gift to me; A bullet-proof vest. “This shit hurts like hell, though,” I say wheezing through the pain in my chest.
“Baby?” is all Cooper says. I nod, turn my head to the side and vomit again.
I run my hands over the bustle of my satin wedding gown. I’m buzzing with excitement. I’m about to walk down the aisle and marry the man of my dreams. A man I never thought I’d find.
Everything happened so fast, but it feels right. I found a man who loves me and will be there for me during the good and the bad and I know that I have my father’s blessings. I rest my hand on my now flat stomach. I insisted that Cooper and I get married after the baby was born because I didn’t want to look be a pregnant bride. My mother has my daughter Hope, with her in the church right now. I consider my baby girl my something new.
“Grandma Rose, where’s my something old?” I ask her. She’s sitting in the dressing room with me waiting to walk me down the aisle.
“Oh, sorry dear. Here it is,” she says holding up a necklace with an old fashioned cameo. “This was your Great-grandmother Margaret’s, God rest her soul. This is the most decent looking thing of hers I could find. My mother had awful taste. She used to always wear hideous Christmas sweaters, like the one I wore for the holidays. It was a gift from her. I like to wear it to remind me of her. Anyway, she used to knit you know? One year she knitted the ugliest yellow scarf you ever did see and she would wear that thing all winter.”
It can’t be. Grandma Rose can’t be talking about the same woman. “Grandma, do you have a picture of Great-grandma Margaret?” I ask, my hands trembling.
“As a matter of fact I think I do,” she says digging in her handbag. “Ah ha. Here it is. You’re Great-Grandma Margaret or Margie as some people called her. Her hair went gray kind of early but she used to keep dying it red, although her roots always showed. She was never a great beauty but she had the kindest blue eyes and a bright beautiful smile.”
I look down at the picture through the mist in my eyes. I’m looking at the smiling face of my guardian angel, my Great-grandmother Margaret Ann Thompson.
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Thank you for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. If you enjoyed it please take the time to provide feedback at your favorite retailer.
Thanks a bunch,
Nikki Vale