Husbandry (20 page)

The next time he slammed deep and filled me to capacity, my
pussy surrendered with a series of quakes. My back bowed, and I had to bite my
lip to keep from screaming. With my arms flung into midair, I writhed on his
dick, clutching his length with a desperate, intimate hold. Charles groaned and
pumped his cum, dropping me lower so his semen ran downhill.

“All of it,” he ground out. “Take all of me.”

I did: the good and the bad; body, spirit, and seed.

Once he was done, he pulled me into a sitting position on
his lap and reached down to rake his fingers through my curls. He smiled when
the caress made my sheath contract around him with aftershocks.

“I love it when your pussy grabs my cock like that.” It was
something similar to what Chad had told me in bed, though my poetic husband had
put it more eloquently.

I feigned looking at the clock. “You barely made it before
the bell, babe. You must be losing your touch.”

The jibe had his dark eyebrows winging up, but I pushed off
him before he had a chance to harden again. I bent to retrieve my shorts and
underwear.

“You’re a bad, bad man,” I told him, though I didn’t put any
heat behind the words. I disappeared into the bathroom for a minute to clean up
before I got dressed again. “You’re a terrible influence on me. You make me do
these things against my better judgment.”

“I loosen you up.” He appeared totally unrepentant as he
moved to wipe his shaft and zip up his fly. “I keep you from getting too
uptight, Fila. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of fun.”

“Ha! You’re the one who works all the time. I’m supposed to
loosen
you
up.”

Charles slipped his arm around me where I stood
double-checking my reflection in the mirror. “Mission accomplished. I assure
you I feel loose and relaxed now.”

I shook my head at him. At least I looked presentable. A bit
flushed, perhaps, so I took time to walk back to the bathroom and splash cold
water on my face before I headed for the door.

Looking as cool and collected as always, Charles joined me
and tucked me close on the way down the stairs.

* * * *

For all that Charles could be aggravating, he definitely
knew how to turn on the charm. Later that evening, while Chuck plied my dad
with burgers fresh off the grill, Charles turned his attention to my mother.
Mom, of course, didn’t make it easy for him, but then she didn’t know how much
he liked a challenge. When Charles couldn’t win her over by the end of dinner,
he maneuvered into position for another crack at her the next day.

He joined me and my parents for Sunday brunch—an early
birthday celebration while they were here visiting. Being with my family always
seemed to revolve around food: planning it, cooking it, eating it, or cleaning
up after it. We were forever gathering around a meal. This time, the
conversation flowed over hot croissant sandwiches. Charles managed to engage
both my parents while paying special attention to my mom.

“I can see where my wife gets her strength of character,” he
told her. “It’s one of the qualities I admire most about her.”

“She has a strong will.” Mom gave me a pointed look. “That
made her a handful to raise, though she was never a bad child.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered.

Dad jumped in to rescue me. “My Fila always knew her own
mind. I used to worry about her when she was little, but she’s a smart cookie.
She makes good choices.”

Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see, but I thought
my father gave Charles a man-to-man look as he said the last part.

Dad threw his arm around my mom and grinned at her. “As for
these strong women, they keep us on our toes.”

“Oh, stop.” Mom gave him a playful slap on the shoulder.
Then she looked at me and sighed. “Another year has gone by. I can’t believe my
baby is all grown up and…married.”

I picked up on the hesitation before the last word, but I
let it go. Instead I teased her. “And here you haven’t aged a bit.”

“Hmm. Wonderful, isn’t it?” That earned me a smile. “Like
I’ve always told you, Fila. Moisturize, moisturize, moisturize. Take good care
of your skin. I learned that from my mother, and look at how lovely she was
right up to the end.”

It was one of the few times I’d heard my mom talk about
Grandma Filomena without a hint of disapproval.

She patted the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “Now, I
hope there are some good stores around here. I’d like to take you shopping for
your birthday. That way you can get something I know you’ll enjoy, and I don’t
have to waste time guessing. You children are so particular.”

“Shopping?” My father made a face.

“Yes, dear. I talked to you about this last night.”

“You did?”

Mom huffed out a sigh. “I knew you weren’t listening.”

“It’s not a problem.” Charles broke in to take charge. “We
can drop you ladies off at whatever store you like, and then I can drive Art
home and come back for you.”

I leaned in to whisper to him. “You do realize we’ll
probably hit half a dozen stores. You’ll be stuck chauffeuring us all day.”

“Not a problem.” He looked amused, not resigned. “Is that
all right with you, Minnie?”

“That would be fine.” My mother was clearly pleased he’d
looked to her for agreement.

“It’s settled then.” Charles signaled the waitress over.

He then went through a polite round of negotiations with my
father before letting my parents take care of the bill. On the way out, he held
the door for my mother and me before he walked ahead to open the car for us.

“Better you than me,” my father later told him when they
dropped us off.

I didn’t catch my husband’s response.

They left us at a discount boutique downtown, which we were
lucky was open on Sunday. The store was clean and well arranged, and most of the
prices were reasonable. My mother’s eyes immediately lit up. The only thing she
liked better than nice clothing was nice clothing for bargain prices. She
hunted sales like rugged men hunted big game animals. It was like a competition
between her and the clothing manufacturers, and she was intent on winning.

For the first few minutes, the only sound was the clack of
the hangers as we flipped through the sales rack. I was the first to find
something. The blue skirt was as soft as a whisper and happened to be in my
size.

I pulled it out and held it up so she could see it. “This is
pretty.”

“Yes, it is. You should try it on.”

I hooked it over my left hand while I continued to browse.

Her gaze never left the articles of clothing she was
scanning. “So, I understand your Charles is some kind of executive.”

“That’s right.” I answered carefully, not sure where this
was going. “He’s doing very well with the company and has a lot of ambition. I
only wish he’d take time to enjoy his successes along the way. He works too
hard.”

My mother dismissed the last sentiment. “He’s young. You’re
supposed to work hard when you’re young. That’s the only way you get anywhere.”
She pulled out a blouse and studied it for a moment. “The house is very nice.
He must make a good income.”

“Sure. Plus Chad and I contribute too, and Chuck plans to
take on outside work. We’re finally getting the house where we want it, but
sometimes it feels like a money pit.”

“All houses are that way.” My mother held on to the blouse.
“The year after your father and I bought our first house, the roof went, a pipe
burst under the foundation, and our return vent became infested with ants. It
was like a series of plagues.”

I smiled. Over the years, I’d heard this story more than
once. I assumed she’d get on a roll with it, but her focus remained on me and
my life.

She glanced at me before she moved to another rack. “You
know, I wasn’t sure what to think of Charles at first. Since he’s a charmer,
you never know how much substance is beneath the facade, but I can see he’s
intelligent and hardworking. He’s obviously a good provider. Although I still
think Chuck will make the better husband and father, I can see you with
Charles.”

“Mom, I
am
with
Charles. With him and Chuck and Chad. This isn’t a pageant or something. I’ve
already made my choice.”

“I’m just saying you should consider your options. This is
your life we’re talking about.” She pulled out another shirt and held it out
for me. “You should try this. The vertical stripes are very slenderizing.”

I accepted the garment and counted to ten in my head. Not
wanting to say something I couldn’t take back, I bit my lip and let the subject
drop for now.

By the time Charles came to pick us up, my mood was improved
by the new skirt I’d gotten. I thanked my mother for the gift and resolved to
stick to clothes and harmless topics for the rest of the day. My husband
actually made that easier for me.

Charles went above and beyond as he chauffeured us around to
the various shops and department stores. He had us put on fashion shows for him
outside the dressing rooms, carried our bags, and kept the compliments flowing.

“You have a great sense of style and proportion,” he told my
mother, who blushed despite her reservations about him and his flattery.

He was a consummate kiss up when he wanted to be, mostly
because he delivered each line with such panache you didn’t really care if he
meant it or not.

When the day wound down and we started to complain about
sore feet, he took us out for cocktails before he drove us home.

I gave him a quick kiss as we unloaded the trunk. “You’re
terrific.”

His grin was smug. “I have my moments.”

We walked inside, where I was met with a curious mix of
aromas. My mom immediately headed up to the guest room to change her shoes. I
remained downstairs and, after stowing my shopping bags, followed the more
obvious scent of food to the kitchen. There was no one there, but there was a
big pot of soup simmering on the stove. That had to be Chad’s handiwork.

A minute later, I found him in the family room reading a
book. He set it down and greeted me when I leaned in for a kiss.

“You made dinner again?” I hadn’t expected that.

Chad shrugged. “I just threw together some leftover
vegetables and broth. I was thinking you might make some of your popovers to go
with it.”

“Good idea.” I sniffed again, still curious about what else
I smelled. “What is that?”

He arched his eyebrows at me. “Can you be more specific?”

“That odor. It doesn’t smell like a chemical, but it has
that…industrial quality to it. Is Chuck painting again or something?”

“Ah. I believe that would be grout or thin set or whatever
you call it. Chuck and your father have been busy for most of the afternoon.”

“Busy with what?” I wasn’t sure whether or not to be
nervous.

“The half bath downstairs. Go look for yourself.”

I hurried to do just that. When I reached them, the two men
were standing outside the doorway staring in at the bathroom. I joined them and
dropped my gaze to the floor.

“You got rid of the old, chipped tile.” I definitely
approved, though I hadn’t expected this particular renovation so soon.

In place of the battered orange squares that had been in
there when we bought the house, there were now clean tiles of textured beige.
Even with the grout lines unfilled, the floor looked great. It was a testament
to the degree of improvement that this was the first thing I noticed when, in
fact, the toilet and cabinet sink were missing.

“The old stuff was a bear to bust out of here,” my dad
informed me. “It took us twice as long as we thought it would, but the space is
small enough it was easy going after that.”

Chuck nodded, still staring at their accomplishment. “It
went so much faster with two people. I measured, your dad cut the tile, and
down it went. Doesn’t it look good?”

“It looks fantastic.” I loved it already. “How long until
you can fill it in and finish?”

“We’ll grout it tomorrow. Do you have a preference on sinks?
Art and I plan to pick up a new toilet and sink in the morning while the grout
dries.”

“Hmm.” I considered the space. “We really don’t need the
storage in here. How about a pedestal sink?”

“That will fit better,” my father said.

Chuck nodded. “You got it.”

Neither moved. They looked like two fix-it warriors standing
over the field of battle after a hard-won victory. It was some kind of
male-bonding thing, I was sure. Like fishing and sports and punching each
other’s shoulder instead of hugging.

I left them to it with admonishments to clean up for supper.

As promised, the half bath was done by the time I got home
from work the next day. My father and Chuck toasted each other with beers,
while my mom was in the family room watching a cooking show. I walked in and
sat beside her.

“You’d think they just broke some kind of world record
instead of installing a toilet,” she told me. She sounded exasperated.
“Honestly, you’ve never seen so much fuss. Your father was the same way when he
helped Josef fix the pipes under his kitchen sink.”

“They did get the bathroom done very quickly.” I wasn’t sure
why I defended them since I knew she wouldn’t listen.

She didn’t disappoint me. “That’s because they had to. Your
father and I are leaving in the morning. We want to visit your brother on the
way home.”

“I figured that was your plan.” The announcement made me
feel both sad and relieved. I was glad we’d had this time together, but I was
also ready to get back to my normal routine.

My mother shut off the television and turned to me with a
determined expression. It was a look I’d learned to fear over the years. I
braced myself.

“Filomena, I want to know what you intend to do with these
men of yours. You can’t expect me to tell my friends my daughter is married to
Chuck, Chad, and Charles. It’s confusing, not to mention embarrassing.”