Authors: S.H. Kolee
"Not really. He's usually busy and it's easier for both of us if I just go home with Sarah." There was no way I was discussing my dysfunctional relationship with my father with Simon's family. Simon's father frowned, but he was momentarily distracted as he thanked Maxine. Unfortunately, he then focused his attention back to me.
"Your father must get lonely without you. I'm happy you're here with us, but I'm sure he'd appreciate you spending the holidays with him."
"Dad," Simon said in warning voice. "Drop it."
Mrs. Crewe put a hand on her husband's arm before he could respond. I didn't see the look that passed between them, but I had a feeling that she knew more about my relationship with my father than Mr. Crewe. Mr. Crewe just nodded, letting the topic go, and Kendra changed the subject by talking about a girl in her class getting breast implants. Both her parents were so appalled by the idea that they immediately forgot about what we had been talking about.
"Sorry," Simon whispered, squeezing my hand. I gave him a smile to reassure him that I was okay, although the topic of my father had dampened my mood a little. I wondered what he was doing for Thanksgiving. I remembered how anguished he had sounded when he had finally revealed the circumstances of my mother's death. Was I being selfish by never spending the holidays with him? Yet it was so hard to withstand his criticisms and harsh words that made me feel like less than nothing.
I made myself clean my plate although my appetite had vanished. I participated in the conversation when a direct question was asked of me, but otherwise I kept quiet. I felt Simon glancing at me throughout dinner but I didn't look at him, afraid that I would start crying if I saw the sympathy in his eyes. I didn't know why I was feeling so melancholy about my relationship with my father now, when I had spent so many holidays without him with no problem.
After dinner, Simon and I went up to his room under the guise of watching a movie. Simon pulled me into an embrace as soon as we closed his bedroom door behind us.
"Sorry about my dad. He can be a bit insensitive sometimes."
I shook my head as I burrowed deeper into Simon's arms, breathing deeply as his warmth and scent soothed me. "It's okay. He doesn't know that my relationship with my father is practically non-existent unless he wants to criticize me about something."
Simon kissed my forehead. "Let's forget about it and watch a movie."
We settled on
Coming to America
, wanting a funny mindless movie that was comforting with its familiarity. Simon turned off the lights and we stretched out on the couch together, my back against Simon's front.
It was hard to concentrate on the movie with Simon so close, especially with his arm wrapped around my waist. His hand had drifted underneath my shirt and he was stroking my stomach lazily, the absent-minded gesture igniting flames in my body. I willed myself to pay attention to the movie but it became harder and harder as Simon's hand methodically rose higher, moving with more purpose.
His breath was warm against my neck and I heard a barely perceptible change in his breathing, sounding more labored. My own breaths became shallow as he stroked higher until the rough pads of his fingers were caressing the undersides of my breasts. Simon gently pulled my bra up so they were freed from the confines of the cups, feeling heavy with arousal. A shudder went through my body when he caught a hard nipple and rolled it between his fingers.
I shifted so I was on my back as Simon hovered over me, his face tight with desire. I reached up and grasped his neck, pulling him down to meet my eager mouth.
Simon continued the sensual assault on my nipple as he devoured my mouth. I threaded my hands in his hair as I matched his passion, my mouth open wide as we kissed ravenously. Simon threw one leg over mine and shifted so that he was lying on top of me, never breaking contact with my mouth. He was now able to use both his hands and I felt shafts of desire slicing through me as he pinched and pulled my hard peaks, making me arch my hips against his. The weight of Simon's body pressing me into the couch was thrilling and I wantonly spread my legs so that his lower body settled between them.
My mewl of protest when he broke the kiss turned into a moan of pleasure as his lips made their way down my neck, trailing openmouthed kisses to my collarbone. I tensed in anticipation when he shifted down so that he could reach my nipple, pleasure radiating from the hard nub when he replaced one of his hands with his hot mouth.
I felt mindless with desire as he suckled roughly on my breast, the other still being manipulated by his hand. At that point, I would have let Simon do anything. I had already decided to give him my body and I wasn't about to let something as pesky as being in his parents' house stop us.
That's why I growled with frustration when Simon pulled back, breathing hard with heavy-lidded eyes.
"Don't stop," I whispered.
Simon gave me a pained smile and dropped a kiss between my breasts before pulling my bra back into place and smoothing my shirt down. "I remember promising to make your first time special. Doing it on a couch with Eddie Murphy in the background, never mind with my parents downstairs, does not constitute as special, even though it's killing me to stop."
"It's special as long as it's with you. I don't care about anything else."
Simon's eyes darkened and I saw the conflict in them, the desire to consummate our relationship now warring with the need to make my first time more memorable. I knew his noble intentions had won out when he dropped an affectionate kiss on my forehead.
"I feel the same way. But you deserve more than a quick roll on the couch."
I almost pouted when Simon sat up and pulled me up with him, but I settled for snuggling while we watched the movie, knowing that it was just because Simon cared about me. I felt happiness spreading through my chest as I thought about how far we had come in just a short period of time. I hadn't been lucky in many things, but I had definitely been lucky in love.
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Is blood thicker than water?"
It was the voice again. The voice I had heard before in a dream. This time it wasn't as dark and I was able to make out faint shapes in the distance, although I couldn't discern what they were. I heard the sound of moving water and I looked down at the river rushing past me. A cool breeze blew softly, causing goose bumps to rise on my arms.
"Who are you?" My voice sounded reedy and thin.
The voice spoke again, faster and guttural as if the speaker was wracked with a sense of urgency. The words were almost unintelligible as they ran into each other since they were spoken so fast, almost as if a tape was being fast-forwarded. "Which bonds are stronger? Which gives you life?"
Suddenly, the cool breeze turned into a scorching heat, making it hard to breathe. I smothered a scream when I heard the voice again, this time so close that I could feel the hot breath against my neck
"A bond unbroken can be a curse. A watery grave can be a blessing."
I spun around quickly and this time I wasn't able to smother my scream. I screamed until my throat was burning and raw, my mind shutting down at the horrific sight before me.
It was my mother, but she was grotesque as if she were rotting before my very eyes. The flesh on her face was loose and patches of translucent skin were hanging off in strips, revealing the rotted and festering nightmare underneath. Her eye sockets were empty bottomless pits that stared at me unseeingly. Her mouth opened wide, her lips splitting open as she showed me her rotten teeth and bloated white tongue.
My screams stopped abruptly, my throat choking with spasms as if my vocal chords had burst from the pressure of my cries. My body was shuddering so hard that I could feel my teeth rattling against each other. Sheer terror exploded inside me when I saw a swollen hand reach towards me. I could see bone where the flesh had been eaten away. Her fingers dragged down my arm, leaving a trail of slime behind.
Her mouth ripped and gaped open as her jaw worked to speak again.
"You'll understand when it's your time."
Hands on my shoulders were shaking me.
"Caitlin, wake up!"
I sat up violently with a gasp, still feeling those slimy fingers on my arm.
"Easy." Simon rubbed my back soothingly, bringing me back to reality. "Was it a vision?"
"No." I took a deep breath and tried to calm my racing pulse. It was a moment before I could speak again. "It was a dream I had before. I think it's warning me, but I don't know what it's warning me about. My mother was trying to tell me something, but she was horrifying to look at. She was bloated and rotted like she was in the middle of decomposing."
"What did she say?"
I shook my head. It was too fresh in my mind to talk about it anymore. Not only had seeing her in that condition scared me, but now I was afraid that it was a sign that she was dead. Was she truly gone and warning me from the beyond?
"Telling me would make you feel better." I looked up at Simon, surprised by the intensity of his expression.
"I can't, Simon. Later. I'll talk about it later."
Simon looked like he wanted to argue but then the muscle in his jaw relaxed and he nodded. He eased me back down on the bed and wrapped his arms around me. We lay like that until morning came, although neither of us fell asleep. I was touched that Simon couldn't sleep because he was worried about me, but I still couldn't say out loud the details of my horrific dream.
The house was abuzz with activity for most of the day as Simon's family prepared for Thanksgiving, and we just tried to stay out of the way. Simon's house seemed to be the focal gathering place for his extended family and they were expecting a lot of people for dinner.
I was subdued for most of the day, mulling over my dream again and again, trying to piece together the puzzle. Was the reference to blood about my father? Or maybe my aunt? What bond was unbroken that was a curse? I was convinced a watery grave was about my mother's accident, but how could it be a blessing?
I eventually told Simon everything about my dream, and while he was sympathetic, he asked me not to read too much into it. He was worried that I would just make myself upset. I resented his attitude, but tried to control my temper because I knew he was just concerned for my well-being. And he was right. I was tying myself up in knots trying to figure out the meaning of my dream, obsessively clutching the iridium coin around my neck.
Simon's family started descending upon the house in the late afternoon. I had already met the majority of them when I attended Kendra's birthday party, but it didn't make all the names and faces any less dizzying. I was grateful to see Grant's familiar face as he gave me a big hug.
My mood lifted as the evening progressed. Simon's extended family was boisterous, and I was content to be a spectator although members of his family regularly engaged me in the conversation. Simon stayed by my side, his presence comforting me like nothing else could.
Stuffed full of turkey and all the trimmings, I fell asleep easily that night despite my inner turmoil. I drifted off into a dreamless slumber, Simon's arms around me anchoring me to reality.
I was momentarily confused when I woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar bed, until I remembered where I was. I was on my back and Simon's face was nuzzled against my neck with one leg thrown over mine, effectively trapping me. I was content to just lie there, feeling the weight of his leg pressing down on me and his warm breath against my neck.
I was alerted to his wakefulness when I felt his lips moving on my neck. I pushed him away, laughing. "Your stubble tickles."
Simon smiled at me, although he was still groggy from having just woken up. His sleepy smile grew mischievous as his blue eyes twinkled. "I can do better than that when it comes to tickling."
"Don't you dare!" I squealed when his fingers tickled my sides, laughing and howling with outrage simultaneously. I was breathless as Simon continued his merciless assault. "Your parents! We'll wake up your parents!"
"They can't hear your screams for mercy. Their room is in the opposite wing." Despite his words, Simon stopped tickling me and instead started dropping soft kisses on my face. My eyes fluttered closed and he lightly kissed my eyelids, moving down to my cheek and then behind my ear.
"I could get used to waking up like this." I opened my eyes and gave him a censorious look. "Except for the tickling."
Simon gave me a sweet smile. "I plan on waking up next to you for a while. At least until I'm eighty."
"And what'll you do then? Throw me to the curb for the next available woman who gives you come-hither looks and lets you molest her with your walker?"
Simon gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "You know me too well. I'm willing to negotiate the terms of our arrangement to the age of ninety-five, but only if you promise to make me garbage cookies on a regular basis."
I pressed my hand against his warm jaw. "It's a deal."
As tempting as it was to stay in bed, we got up and got ready for the day. I had told Simon yesterday that I wanted to stop by my aunt's house this morning and he had agreed. The dream I had of my mother made me eager to go back, convinced that I would see something this time that I had missed earlier.
We ate a quick breakfast before leaving. The morning air was unusually warm for this time of the year, even though it was cloudy, and I started sweating beneath my heavy coat. Simon and I took our coats off and stowed them in the backseat before sliding into the car.
"Do you want to brave the mall after we go to your aunt's house?" Simon asked as he concentrated on the road. "Kendra already left this morning with my mom. I think she looks forward to Black Friday more than Thanksgiving."
"Sure, that sounds like fun."
Simon cradled my hand in his, resting our entwined fingers on my lap. "What exactly are you hoping to find at your aunt's house? I know you feel a pull towards it because you think you'll find some answers there, but isn't it just reopening a wound?"