Time to Control (16 page)

Eddie drew several sovereigns out
of his doublet to rent the house, and Matthew handed us the skeleton key for
the door in return.
 
Matthew left,
and Eddie and I looked at each other.

I broke into a huge smile.
 
“We have a house in Elizabethan
England.”

“That we do, hon.
 
That we do.”
 
His broad smile matched mine.
 

I put my arms around my husband,
and rested my head on his shoulder.
 
“I really want to jump your bones right now, but I don't want to do it
on dirt.”

“I can be on the bottom,” he
offered.
 
I considered, and realized
that I had no idea how to clean ground in dirt from a velvet doublet.
 
Dang reality, getting in the way of a
good time.

“Let's get some more gems at home
– future home – and tomorrow sell them for more money.
 
Then we can go shopping.”
 
My eyes gleamed at the possibility of
furnishing another house.
 
“Think they'll deliver if we pay them enough?”

Once we returned to the present,
Eddie had fun on Saturday exploring where I used to live.
 
My family was originally from Vermont,
not too far from his childhood home, in fact.
 
My dad moved us down to Atlanta for his
job when I was in junior high, and lived there ever since.

A lot of growth had occurred in
Atlanta since then, I had told him as we were driving around.
 
He thought I was just making excuses for
getting lost.

“I'm so embarrassed,” I told him
when I finally pulled into the high school parking lot.

“You seriously didn't remember how
to get to school?” He chuckled.

“Yes!” I said defensively.
 
“There didn't used to be a Wal-Mart
there, I swear.
 
I was used to a
farm being my landmark to turn, not a shopping center.”

“Sure,” he teased, but backed off
when he saw me starting to get upset.
 
“So, where was the place to go and park?”

I blushed.
 
“I was a geek before it was cool to be a
geek.
 
I don't know, okay?
 
I was learning how to program while
everyone else went to parties.”

“I was a band dork,” Eddie
admitted, trying to make me feel better.
 

He saw a glint appear in my
eyes.
 
“What did you play?”

“Tenor sax.
 
Since I sang as a tenor, I thought I was
supposed to play a tenor as well.”
 
I laughed, making him feel better.
 
“I didn't do the parties either.
 
It always seemed so pointless to me.”

“Yeah.
 
I wonder what happened to the popular crowd?”
I mused.
 

“Got a reunion coming up?” Eddie
offered.
 
“I put off going to mine
each year.
 
At first, I wanted to
wait until I was successful, then I wanted to wait until I was married, and I
just never went.”

“I went to my five year.
 
It was pretty boring.
 
It would be fun to go now and show you
off though,” I smiled impishly.
 
“Come on, take me back home.
 
I want to show you the tree house.”

His interest piqued, he started the
borrowed vehicle back up, and headed back to my parents' house.

When we got back, I took Eddie into the backyard and stood below a tree
house in an old willow tree.

"Come on, let's go in," I
encouraged, starting to climb the ladder rungs nailed into the trunk.
 
Eddie grabbed me by the waist and swung
me back down.

"Hold your horses.
 
It doesn't look safe."
 
He looked up at the rickety
structure.
 
The tree house was
nestled in the branches of the willow tree, with a Y split holding up the
floor.
 
A floor which looked like it
would buckle immediately under his weight.
 
The entire structure looked like it would blow down in a strong wind.

"It's fine, it's always looked
like that."

"That doesn't mean it's
safe," he told me humorlessly.

"Eddie," I looked at him,
my eyes pleading.
 
"It's
fine.
 
It's private," I added,
rising up on my tiptoes to kiss his nose.

"It's going to fall
apart.
 
It can't support us
both.
 
Look, the wood is
rotting."

"It held five of us teens in
there.
 
It can hold the two of
us."

Against his better judgment, he
swept an arm towards it.
 
"After you."

I nimbly scaled the ladder, and he
watched me go appreciatively.
 
Maybe
the privacy wasn't such a bad idea after all.
 
He followed up after me, and made sure
he was standing on the sturdy branches of the tree.

"Schroeder, don't do
that!"
 
I was kicking branches
and dead leaves out of the tree house with my feet, walking over the
floorboards that he so doubted.
 
I
gave him an impish grin, but stopped.

"This was my space," I
confided, and cozied up against a thick branch.
 
"I'd bring a stack of library books
up here, and sit on this branch just like this -- it always held me well.
 
It's like nature's recliner."
 
He smiled back at me, watching my close
my eyes and relax, shedding stress.
 
Maybe coming home wasn't that bad of an idea after all.

"I punched my first boy
here," I told him, that gleam coming back in my eyes when I opened them to
look at him.

Eddie chuckled.
 
"First?
 
What'd he do?"

"Tried to grope me.
 
I punched him square in the face, and he
fell back and out the hole."
 
I
pointed to the opening where you climbed up through.
 
"Broke his leg.
 
Never touched me again, though."

Eddie climbed his way over, being
sure to step only on parts of the tree.
 
"What would you do if I groped you?
 
Would you punch me, too?"
 
He ran his hands over my curves, and I
jumped at his touch, grabbing for other branches to hold on to.
 
"Mmm, this could work.
 
You're too busy to hold on to do
anything."
 
He continued to let
his hands roam, and leaned down to kiss me.

He started to unbutton my jeans,
but paused.
 
"Do you still have
your period?"

"No," I groaned with
pleasure, thrusting my hips up against his hands.
 
He stroked me through the coarse
fabric.
 
"I'm not fertile,
either."

"Good enough for me," he
said, loosening the jeans and pulling them down quickly.
 
My fingers turned white where they were
holding onto the branches.

"But Mom and Dad--" I
gasped.

"When was the last time they
came up here?" he said wryly.
 
Neither was in any shape to climb a tree, ladder or no.
 
"As long as you don't scream this
time, no one will know we're here."
 
He made sure I was ready, then kissed me as he entered me.
 
I tensed up and made a small sound that
he muffled, then I relaxed into his thrusts, meeting his hips with mine.
 
It didn't take long for us both to come
to completion, and he slumped against me, trapping me between him and the tree.

"You're squishing me," I
protested, pushing at him with one hand.

"That's all the thanks I
get?" He chuckled, but lifted most of his weight off of me.

"You want thanks?" I
teased, and wrapped my legs around him, pulling him back down on top of me,
ready to go again.

"Schroeder!" my mom
called from the house.
 
"You're
going to miss your plane!"

I sighed and unlocked my legs.
 
"We'll be right there!"
  
Eddie winced at the yelling an
inch from his ear.
 
"Sorry,
hon," I said, kissing that ear, and tugging at his earlobe with my lips.

"Umm, better not get that
started."

We got our clothes in place, and
dusted leaves and twigs off of each other.
 
Eddie may have lingered dusting off some dirt on some delicious parts of
my anatomy, but I didn't complain.

"Schroeder!"
 
My dad shouted.
 
It was definitely time to go.

"Baby, let me go first--"
Eddie started to say, but I beat him to the opening.

"I'm good--ahh!"
 
My foot missed the ladder, and he
watched me tumble down to the ground.

"Schroeder!"
 
Eddie vaulted down safely and bent over
me.
 
"Oh, God,
sweetheart."
 
I lay there,
stunned, but eyes open and blinking.
 
He ran his hands down my arms, feeling for broken bones or any blood.

"I'm okay," I finally
said.
 
"All systems check in
fine."
 
I tried to sit up, but
he pressed me back down with a hand to the chest.

"I'm not done yet, you just
lay still."
 
He checked my
legs, then grudgingly helped me sit up and lean against the tree trunk.

"Bloody hell, I knew going up
there was a bad idea," he fumed, running his fingers through my hair
looking for any bleeding or tender spots.
 
I flinched when he hit a sore spot, and he bent in close to see the
injury.

"I'm fine, we need to
go."

He cupped my face with his hands,
looking into my eyes closely.
 
"Baby, you just fell out of a tree."

"It wasn't that far.
 
And I've done it a bunch."

He frowned at me.
 
"And you're twice as old now.
 
Take it easy, will ya?"
 
Satisfied that there didn't seem to be any
damage, he kissed me on the forehead and assisted me to stand.

"Don't tell my parents,"
I said suddenly.
 
"They'll
freak out like you are."

Eddie closed his eyes and leaned
his forehead against hers.
 
"You're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."

"I love you," I said in
an apologetic tone.

"Come on kids, move it
along!" Dad shouted again.
 
A
firm swat to my behind got me heading towards the car.
 
Eddie watched me go, looking for any
signs of a limp, but I didn't give him cause to see any.

During the drive to the airport,
the general aches started solidifying into more concrete pains.
 
I didn't dare say anything – Eddie
would go nuts and be mad at me, my parents would make me stay, and I had to get
back to work the next day.
 
I had
just taken two days off – Joseph wouldn't be happy at me missing my plane
and staying an extra day.
 
No, I'd
just keep my mouth closed, and not tell anyone that my right side and head were
killing me.

The tears I cried saying goodbye to
my parents were tears of pain, not tears of sadness.
 
My dad did his normal bear hug, and I
was glad that my mother was already crying; it didn't make me look bad for
crying.
 
I held onto my father for a
minute longer than I would have normally, happy to let him think I would miss
him.

Mom's hug was less vigorous, but
painful nonetheless.
 
I kissed them
goodbye, and Eddie shook hands one last time, and they entered the airport.

“I thought you hated being
here?
 
Why are you crying?”

“I did hate it.
 
It just hurt when they hugged,” I
admitted.

Eddie steered me to the nearest row
of chairs and sat me down, dropping their bags.
 
He stroked my face, wiping the tears
away.
 
“Where?
 
Your head?”
 
He probed the lump gently.

“No, my right side.”
 
I saw his jaw clench.

He started tugging my shirt up, and
I immediately stopped him.
 
“Eddie!
 
No, we're in
public.”
 
I swear, that was my new
mantra.

“Is it below your bra line?”
 
I nodded grudgingly, and he cautiously
lifted the t-shirt, careful not to show anything.
 
He hissed when he saw the bruises that
were beginning to form.
 
“Is it a
sharp pain?
 
Does it hurt when you
breathe in?”

I took a couple normal breaths, and
then a few deep ones.
 
“Hurts more
on the deep breaths, and when they squeezed me in the hug.
 
More so Dad than Mom.
 
I'll be fine.”

“Baby, I don't know,” Eddie let
down the shirt and sat next to me.

“I don't want to stay here,” I
plead.
 
“I want to go home.
 
The flight is only two hours.”
 
He didn't say anything, but rubbed his
head with his hand.
 
“If it still
hurts tomorrow, I'll make a doctor's appointment, how about that?”

“All right.
 
Do you have any tylenol?
 
Do you want me to get some from the
store here?”