Twenty five years of blissful marriage. It is unheard of nowadays. But Gomez Addams could proudly claim that he is only lucky man to have married such a captivating and definitely one of a kind wife, and a superb mother of their three amazingly terrible children.
While their love for each other have not waned one bit, their passion have... changed, for lack of a better word.
Gone are the days when their guests would feel embarrassed about the sudden burst of lust between the two of them. They can now last an evening without having to excuse themselves once or twice in the middle of the event, to return not less than an hour later, with Gomez adjusting his tie and Morticia having to reapply her lipstick.
Her French though, still lights a fire within him. A simple 'Oui' from Morticia Addams' lips never cease to drive her husband ablaze. Although now, it would just be a simple kiss on the back of her hand and a possessive grip on her waist, slowly snaking down to her rear.
In the evening, the phrase going to bed now plainly means going to bed. Sex is inevitable as they are still very much in love with each other. But a night or two, even a week, could pass without them having to shake the would house with their passion.
In bed, they would snuggle with each other and just talk -- how their day went by since they no long spend hours together; Gomez with his stocks and different business ventures in the morning, teaching zen yogi in the afternoon, and fencing or whatever new sport he discovered just before dinner.
After years and years of practice, Gomez reached the master level in zen yogi and he was invited to supervise two classes of young men who want to learn the sport.
He never thought that teaching zen yogi would be very tiresome, given that he tutored Wednesday's beau, Joel, as well as Pugsley and Pubert for years now. Of course, nowadays, it is just Pubert he teaches since the older boys have run off to pursue college.
Morticia, on the other hand, spends her morning tending her various plants inside the greenhouse before joining Mama in the kitchen to experiment on potions. Her plants have grown not only in size but in number as well, vines and vines of carnivorous and poisonous herbs snaking through the window sills that s few years ago, she asked Lurch to extend the conservatory, hence creating the greenhouse.
Her interest about potions is more of a necessity than a desire, because for the past seven years, she has been teaching in the local but very secret coven of witches. She made it her duty to make certain that her knowledge would always be filled to the brim, so as to not disappoint her students, who admire her deeply.
Morticia would return home in the late afternoon, when she would take a well deserved rest with cup of tea and a book to read.
This particular evening, both Morticia and Gomez are tired. The young men from his zen yogi class started practicing more advanced poses but they could hardly do it. They had to repeatedly ask Gomez to jump onto the chandelier, turn himself upside down, and hang on his legs in vain attempts to understand how it is done. He had lost count of the times a student would fall on top of him.
In the coven, Morticia did most of the job fighting the demon the young witches have summoned, because either they are too stunned and afraid to fight it or too weak to carry on the task.
She is already in her nightgown that is currently pooled around her thighs and sitting on the stool at the foot of their bed, as he clean up the wound slashed on the length of her porcelain.
"Tell me again, cara, why they summoned this demon?" Gomez asked as he pour a green liquid over the wound.
Morticia winced and watched the light smoke coming off of her leg.
"They did not mean to summon a demon, darling," she replied in a hiss due to the inexplicable pain she felt. She really should have the wound patched up before coming home. "They were summoning a man. But you know how very particular summoning spells are. One mispronunciation and 'the man of our dreams' become..."
"'Demon of our dreams.'" Gomez finished.
She nodded tiredly but jerked suddenly when he put blue chewed up leaves over the wound.
"I'm sorry, mi amor. Mama infused this with alcohol." As gentle as he could, he covered the slash with gauze and tape. His eyes were pained, as if he was the wounded one.
She noticed this and lovingly placed her hand on his cheek. She stroked him with such gentleness that his eyes relaxed, even for just a fraction.
"Gomez..." she softly said. She raised his chin, forcing him to look at her. His eyes lost all of its anger as her gazed into her obsidian ones.
He sighed and looked down.
"Forgive me, Tish. I just cannot bear to see you hurt," he whispered.
Morticia threw the hem of her nightgown over her legs and patted the space next to her on their ottoman. Gomez sat down beside her.
"Thank you, Gomez, darling," she said, kissing him on the lips.
"You could've..." he started to say, breaking away from their kiss, which surprised her. Normally, nothing could stop him from kissing her; not even a strong whack on the head by his mother during a party.
But when she saw the concern in his eyes, covering the fear he was trying so much to hide, she understood.
"Shhh... I am fine, mon cher." There, she finally said the magic words that would pacify his doubts. She knew she was being unfair to him by doing so, but she has to let him know that apart from the pain of her wound, she was unharmed.
She watched his reaction change in a nanosecond; from having this deep concern etched on his face to an animal ready to pounce.
He madly grabbed her hand and poured all of his veneration for her in a single kiss on her palm.
"Come to bed, mi amor. You need to rest." He said, restraint lacing his voice, as if he wanted to suggest otheriwise.
He stood up and before she could as well, he took her by the waist and behind the knee, carrying her to bed.
"Would you like to take the sleeping draught Mama prepared for you?"
"No, thank you, Gomez, darling," Morticia answered. She smiled slightly. "I doubt that I will be needing it."
He laughed heartily.
Of course, she woud not need to be put into anymore as her voice sounded very tired and she was doing all she could to keep her eyes open, so as not to be rude to her husband.
He pulled their black blanker over her chest. Then he leaned towards her and placed a kiss on her forhead.
"Go to sleep, cara mia."
It would take days before Morticia could finally walk without hobbling. But more days before she could wear her usual tight dress without causing her wound to chafe under the lace material.
Her students were very apologetic following the fiasco. She has received boquets of roses, boxes of chocolates filled with a good dose of cyanide, and get well cards from the young witches who summoned the blasted demon.
The council also sent her a huge box of henbane cookies with a letter commending her actions and wishing her a fast recovery, not to mention a cheque of a surprising amount as a way of thanking her for saving half a class of bubbleheaded young witches.
Although there were a lot of things that needs to be covered, as indicated in their syllabus, Morticia spent a whole session lecturing them about proper pronunciation in summoning spells or any spells for that matter, the uncertainty of summoning anything -- even as seemingly harmless as a kitten, and a much longer sermon about finding love through magic.
"What I do not understand about you young people is your penchant for instant gratification," Morticia was saying in front of the class. "You desperately desire being in a relationship so instantly that you disregard the possible effects of your actions."
A girl from the back of the class raised her hand.
"Yes, Laura?" Morticia called, raising an eyebrow. The whole class looked at the girl in surprise. She usually is the most reserved witch, but was also the one who spearheaded the summoning.
"Well, with all due respect, Mrs. Addams," Laura started hesitantly. "But we are all aware about how you and your husband got together."
The whole class held their breaths with what she just said. Of course, it was no secret that Morticia and Gomez Addams got engaged the very night they first met. It was practically just a week after that fateful night when they got married.
Their nuptials was so sudden, especially with Gomez's reputation as a serial philanderer, that it was the talk of the town for months to follow.
Morticia did not bat an eye with the young witch's comment. Instead, she smiled serenely at the fond memory of marrying her husband who, the moment they locked eyes on each other, stopped his habit of womanizing. He laid his eyes to no other woman since then.
"Oh, but I did not conjure Mr. Addams from a spell book," she countered. She was thoughtful for a moment. "Indeed it was an instant marriage, and it was unplanned, but it was a type of magic that no one has the power to bend."
"What kind of magic is that?" The curiosity of the witches were palpable.
Morticia's knowing smile widened.
"Love," was her simple reply.
The whole class groaned.
"And you girls would be fools to assume that you could conjure magic from thin air," Morticia continued. "Love is a magic on its own. Do not mess with it. It is a branch of magic that no one has ever explored, and I believe no one will ever be able to."
There was a knock on the door, surprising everyone, including Morticia.
She opened it, revealing her husband.
"Gomez, darling!" She exclaimed. She turned to the class. "Speaking of the devil himself. Girls, this is my husband, Gomez Addams."
There was a chorus of "Good morning, Mr. Addams," and "Hello, Mr. Addams," elicited from the girls.
"Excuse my a moment," she said to them before turning to her husband. "What a surprise to see you here, darling."
"I did not mean to intrude with you work, my love," Gomez said with a sheepish smile. "I was in the area, looking for the lovely swamp our agent was talking about. Then I looked at the time and realized that it was almost lunch time. I wanted to take you out."
Her heart melted for her dear husband.
"Oh, aren't you charming, darling," she replied, placing a gently hand on his cheek. "That would be lovely. I will dismiss the class a few minutes early."
A grin of success spread across his face. He took her hand from his cheek and planted a kiss on the back of it before retreating without a word, closing the door behind him.
Morticia turned to look around the room and saw the same look of longing on most girls. She could not help but feel humbled about how lucky she was to be married to such a splendid man like Gomez. He has his faults and could be childish and extremely jealous at time, but he is solely hers.
Despite her mild irritation about their unintentional summoning of the demon, she warmed up to them.
"Girls..." she began kindly. "You will find your matches the right way."
The girls did not look convinced.
Morticia had to stifle a laugh. "You are all dismissed. But before you go, I want you to ponder deeply about what I said. It would very beneficial to both your lives as witches and personal lives."
She left the room before anyone could, and Gomez was dutifully waiting for her outside it.
"Shall we?" she asked. "The cafeteria here has excellent food choices."
He smiled in response and offered his arm. "Lead the way."
"Tish, what do you have in mind for Wednesday and Pugsley's homecoming?" Gomez asked as they eat their fried bat wings at the open air section of the dilapidated cafeteria.
Every furniture there were in shambles, the tables rotting at the edges, and their chairs wobbly after being attacked by termites. They were overlooking a forlorn meadow, scattered with different kinds of plants, some poisonous, some harmless, some undecided. Nearby, young witches were sitting around a pond and playing pranks on the frogs.
The couple could not ask for a more uncomfortable spot.
"I would love to throw a party for our children," Morticia replied as she scanned the place. They were not alone, yet no one seemed to mind them. "But I doubt Wednesday would appreciate it."
Gomez nodded. "I agree. Just a family gathering then?"
"We could invite Fester and Dementia, and Margaret and Cousin Itt," she suggested.
"Let's not forget Joel's parents," he reminded, his eyes twinkling in delight.
She laughed. "If only they would accept our invitation even just once in a while."
"True," Gomez agreed. "We could not be a more gracious host."
"But you know Thing and his pranks." They said in unison before laughing at their pet's shenanigans.
They ate in a comforable silence for a while.
"Gomez, darling, how was your swamp scouting?" Morticia asked moments later. She folded her hands on her lap, a sign that she was done eating. She was yet to clear her plate, but then again, she never does.
He made a face before answering. "Dismal, cara. And not in a good way."
"Why? What happened?" she asked leaning forward in rapt attention.
"They drained the swamp," he replied sadly. Gomez is a man who hates waste of food, unless it was cereals or cakes or hotdogs. So, despite his disappointment, he pulled Morticia's plate towards him and started to take her leftovers like he usually does.
"Oh, but why?" she exclaimed.
He shrugged. "Something about building a mall inside a business district or whatever."
"A mall?!" Morticia shook her head in disgust. "Don't they have enough of those already?"
"A lot of people do not appreciate nature like we used to..." he commented with a sad sigh.
"Do not worry, my love, you will find other swamps," she assured him as she placed a consoling hand over his.
He smiled and looked a little chipper. "You always know the right words to say, cara mia."
She just smiled in reply before asking him for the time.
"Alas, our hour has passed. I shall return you to your students," he said, standing up and offering a hand. She took it and gracefully followed suit.
"I can manage, darling," Morticia assured her husband. "You still have to go downtown for your zen yogi class."
"Ah, yes, indeed. Thank you for reminding me, Tish." He kissed her hand. "As usual, Lurch will pick you up for home. I shall see you tonight, cara mia."
