Chapter 14: Playing With the Queen of Hearts
Ashley's POV
"Where are you?" I ask impatiently into the phone.
"Babe I will be there soon," she replies breathlessly. "Bree, grab the tri-pod and set this up on it," I hear her instruct HER.
"Hey, can you tell her to then shove that tri-pod up her…"
"Ashley Davies, ENOUGH!" she shouts in exasperation as I hear her fumbling on the other end of the line. "Babe, I have to go if I am going to finish this session and get home."
"Okay, okay, but can you hurry pleeease…" I beg as I try to pull Lyla's dress over her wiggling body while pointing at Bo's flip flops, signally for him to put them on.
It's Lyla's birthday party day and I have been trying to juggle two impatient children all morning while doing all of the decorating and dealing with vendors on my own. Of course, I realize all of those vendors are only here in the first place because of all of her planning and organizing, with little help from me, but I am conveniently forgetting this as I have been staring at my watch intermittently throughout the morning, wondering when she is going to get home to help me.
Ok, clearly not really forgetting this but barely acknowledging to anyone other than myself.
She, however, is quick with the acknowledgement.
"Ash, I am doing the best I can," she whispers, probably through gritted teeth. "It's not too much for me to expect you to handle this part of it, now is it?" Her voice is low and curt, and I fight to control the defensiveness that is boiling up inside of me.
"NO, I got it, Spence," I retort just as curtly. "See you when you get here." And I hang up without saying goodbye, silently cursing myself for that little maneuver, knowing full well it probably pissed her off.
"Son, can you go find Lyla's while sandals with the blue flowers?" I request sweetly, trying to mask my growing irritation at her absence.
"Which ones, Mommy?" he asks, his eyes glued to the cartoons on the television in the living room as he stands in the kitchen, still fumbling to get his own shoes on his feet.
I am sure it would be going much more smoothly if I turned the television off.
"HEY, MOMMY! I was watchin that!" he cries and I whip my head around to stare sternly at him.
"Bo, Mommy needs your help. Please just go to Lyla's room and bring me her sandals."
"But I don't know which ones you's talking abowt Mommy!" he protests.
"Bo, her WHITE sandals with the BLUE flowers," I repeat. "I just told you that." I soften my voice a little and continue urging him to help his Mommy. "Bubs, I know you know which ones I am talking about. Please just go look."
"Awight, Mommy. Wywa, you wanna come help yo brova find ya sandals?" he asks his sissy sweetly and she nods and follows him up the stairs.
And before I realize it, twenty minutes have passed and they have not returned. I have been so wrapped up with pointing the 'carnies' down to the beach and telling them where to set up shop that I have barely realized this.
Making my way up the stairs and into Lyla's room, the kids are nowhere to be seen.
"Bo, Lyla, where are you?" I yell down the hall as I open Bo's door.
"In yow room, Mommy," I hear my son yell back and I open the door and gasp.
Bo has my make-up bag open on the floor and our daughter is…well on her way to looking like the entertainment for this party and not the guest of honor.
"BO!" I cry out as I rush towards them and grab the tube of pink lip stick from his little hands. "What are you doing, son?" I question him as I scoop Lyla up and carry her into the bathroom.
"Mommy, Wywa wanted to put on make-up for hew party," he explains proudly as I stare at my little girl's face. She has uneven streaks of bronzer all over her face, blue and green eye shadow in more uneven streaks above her huge brown eyes, and pink lipstick smeared across her lips.
"Mommy, I wook pwetty," she informs me.
I swear to God, if she didn't look so hilarious checking herself out in our huge bathroom mirror, I would be in full-on panic mode. Especially in light of the fact that traces of the powdery make-up have fallen all over her white and blue dress, smudging the front to the degree of not-wearable for her party.
"Baby girl, you are beautiful, but Mommy is going to just wash some of this off," I inform her as she starts to cry.
"NO MOMMY, I want to wawe this make-up!" she protests through her tears.
And full-on panic mode is upon me.
"Sweetheart, we'll leave some make-up on, but it's just too much," I try to explain as I wet a wash cloth and begin rubbing her little face.
"Mommy, you doesn't think I did a good job?" Bo asks sadly.
Spencer, where are you?
…
"Why is Lyla not wearing the dress we bought?" Spencer inquires with just a bit too much disapproval for my taste as she sets her purse and keys on the counter approximately twenty minutes before the guests are set to arrive.
"Spence, not now," I groan as I clasp a pink bow in Lyla's brown curls to match the pink gingham dress I selected from her closet…after removing the tarnished birthday dress moments ago.
"Well, what happened? And why is Lyla wearing lipstick?" she continues with more disapproval.
"SPENCER, I don't have time. Can you just run down to the beach and make sure the tables are set up?"
"But I need to change," she informs me as she starts up the stairs.
"Fine, I got it dear," I mumble. "Kids, I am going to turn the TV back on. Please just stay on the couch and don't move until I get back," I beg them. "Spence, don't let our make-up out of your sight," I call up the stairs behind her as she turns and gives me a confused look, which slowly fades into one of knowing as she nods and disappears down the hallway.
As I am about to slip out the backdoor so I can go check on the carnival status, I hear the doorbell ring. Groaning loudly, I walk to the door and yank it open.
"Kyla, thank GOD you are here," I exclaim as I pull her into a desperate hug.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, sis. What's going on?" She shuffles her presents as she pulls back and looks at me with concern, and I glance to see Aiden sitting in the car on his cell phone.
"Nothing….everything. Ky, can you watch the kids and make sure they don't get into anything. I need to go check on the party." I fly through my words and she sets her gifts on the bar and grabs me by both shoulders.
"Ash, calm down…breathe…" she urges me. "I got it under control. Go do what you need to do," she urges me and I smile gratefully at her.
"Bo Bo, Lyla-Lou, Auntie Kyla's here!" she exclaims as she saunters into the living room and is met with excited squeals.
Just wait, my calm, cool and collected sister.
JUST WAIT.
…
"Ashley, those fucking clowns…" Spencer spats as I glance over to see one standing near the edge of the deck, tucking a marijuana pipe into his huge pocket.
"Spencer, wouldn't you have to be high to act like an idiot for a bunch of screaming kids?"
I am not sure why I am defending this idiot, but for the second time, the clowns are screwing up, and the clowns were my idea, and I am not going to go to Party Central again this year, so baked clowns will have to do.
"Ashley, it's unacceptable," she shoots back and I feel myself get angry quickly.
"You know what, Spence. If you want to tell them to leave, go right ahead. I'll let you explain it to the children," I half threaten her just as Chelsey walks up to us.
Sensing the tension between us, she knowingly intervenes. "Wow, you guys outdid yourself this year," she exclaims, trying to lighten the mood. "Those clowns are dope," she deadpans and I cannot help but laugh and smile at her.
"Hilarious, Chels," Spencer moans but cannot stifle the laughter as she shakes her head and walks over to join her parents at the adult table.
"You guys okay?" she asks me softly as she helps me clear half-eaten hot dogs and hamburgers from in front of the children, and throws the plates into the large trash can we have set up at the corner of the party.
"I don't know, Chels," I inform her sadly. "I really don't know…"
…
I am sitting defeatedly on a picnic table bench, watching our mothers assist with pony rides, watching Spencer and her brother sipping beers and apparently engaged in a debate over God knows what, watching Kyla and Aiden and Chelsey laughing uncontrollably as Arthur attempts to beat Baked-Zo the Clown in a juggling competition, and watching the sun begin to set over the perfect blue waters.
Why is everyone else having so much fun?
And why am I not?
Just then I feel a stare upon me and I lift my tired eyes to meet a blue that rivals any ocean in all of the world.
She makes her way over to me and slides down onto the bench next to me.
"Hey…" she says softly as she wraps an arm around my back and pulls me closer to her. "Smashing success," she assures me as I close my eyes for a minute.
"You did good, Spence," I reply.
"No, WE did good," she insists and I nod my head.
I open my eyes to stare into hers and before I can lean in to kiss my wife, I am interrupted by the older brunette and blonde.
"Girls, should we do presents now?" Paula asks, pointing to the overflowing table of gifts our guests have brought for our daughter.
"Yes, sure," I agree as I rise to help our mothers round up the children.
…
"Where in the hell are we going to put all of this?" she chuckles as we drop the last arm loads of toys and clothing and books onto the living room floor, Bo, Lyla, Rocco and Regan already tearing into several of the new treasures and playing together on the floor in front of the television.
"Chelsey? Glen?" I suggest and they both shake their heads violently.
"Oh, hell no," Glen announces, shooting down my idea. "Have you seen our play room?" he smirks and we all laugh in acknowledgement.
"Hey, Aiden, Kyla, you have any interest in a Dolly Surprise? Her pretty hair grows right before your eyes," I try to tempt them as I hand the doll to my sister.
"They still make these things?" she asks in amazement as she presses the button on the dolls back and the synthetic ponytail slowly extends a few inches.
"I know…" I agree as she places in on the kitchen table and shakes her head.
Our parents have already said their goodnights, and Aiden had enthusiastically suggested beers and card games after the kids were put to bed. Rocco and Regan were going to stay over, as were their parents and Aunt and Uncle should the night go where we anticipate it might.
"So…who wants to try to put these little ones to bed?" I inquire as I glance from face to mortified face, no one rising to the occasion. "Oh, come on, a little help here!" I exclaim as Glen pulls the refrigerator door open and begins handing out bottles of beer.
"Sis, I am off-duty," he informs me as he cracks his open and gulps loudly.
"Pussy," I reply and smirk at him, reminding him of where this little battle could lead.
"Sis, Auntie Kyla would love to tuck the little loves in for the night," Kyla announces with the confidence only an Aunt with no children of her own can muster up.
She has NO idea.
"Oh, sis, that would be super," I encourage her, holding back any warnings of the difficulties of getting the cousins to actually go to bed during a sleep over. "You just let us know if you need ANY help," I continue sweetly and innocently as I grab a beer for myself and shoot an amused look at my wife, who is staring at Kyla with the same innocence.
"Yes, Ky…you know where their P.J.'s are right? And Chels," she continues, exchanging amused looks with our sister-in-law, "you packed jammies for your two, right?"
"Yep, their bags are already upstairs," she nods as she bites her bottom lip and glances over at the rowdy foursome, playing an intense game of Candyland (REDUX).
"Ok, kiddos," Kyla calls as she enters the living room. "Auntie Kyla is gonna put you all to bed," she announces, using all the wrong words at the exact wrong time.
And the moans of protest fill the room, causing the more experienced parents to burst into laugher.
"Good for you babe," Aiden encourages her as he continues sipping on his beer.
"Oh, Babe, you are coming with me," she informs him, and he groans as she takes his hand and we watch the two of them attempt to shuffle the protesting children up the stairs.
And I think…if I close my eyes and strain my ears just enough…
Yep, I just heard both of their clocks come to a grinding halt.
…
"Oh, GOD, not another King," Glen moans as we all lift our beers and signal to him to get ready for hell.
We each pour a little into the cup in the center.
And by a little, I mean a LOT.
And I am pretty sure we are making new rules again. Every time we play this game no one can seem to remember what each card means, and despite Spencer's constant insistence we write it down so that the next time we play we will remember the rules, we never have.
"Chug it, pussy," I instruct him as he lifts the center cup to his lips and starts to gulp down the liquid.
"Gross…it's warm," he groans as he continues chugging. Wiping his lips, he continues to complain. "And baby, do you really have to be drinking wine right now?"
Chelsey laughs loudly as he finishes the beer and wine cocktail and slams the cup onto the table.
"I hate beer, what can I say?" she reminds him innocently as she takes a sip of her Cab.
"Can we at least make a rule that you can't add wine to the…"
"NO!" we all respond in unison, cutting his complaint off abruptly.
"Ok, your turn, babe," I encourage Spencer as she draws a card from the circle.
"Queen," she groans. "I never…" and we all clap excitedly.
By far the best category.
"I never…" she draws out…apparently thinking hard. "I mean, what in the hell have I never done?" she winks at me and I laugh as I take a sip of my beer.
As I start to open my mouth to give her an idea, she cuts me off with a flat hand in the air. "Don't answer that," she scolds me and I feign shock.
"I was gonna say snorted coke," I lie and she glares at me playfully, knowing full well I was going to possibly remark on the one place she has never let me put it…
"Whatever, you were going to say 'taken it in the ass'," Kyla announces as she hiccups between sips of her beer.
"Jesus, Ky!" Aiden whips his head to face her and she laughs, along with the rest of us, and shrugs her shoulders.
"What, I know my sister," she reminds us all, and I shoot her a shut the fuck up look before turning to face Spencer.
Who is shooting me a what the hell have you told her look.
I shake my head reassuringly at her and urge her to continue.
"Okay, ANYWAY…I never…faked an orgasm with my current partner."
The boys clearly cannot raise a glass to this, but every single girl does.
Well every single girl but me.
And that exclusion does not include Spencer…in case you missed that.
"Wait, WHAT?" I cry in shock as she swallows the gulp of beer that is a signal to me that she has, in fact, faked an orgasm with ME.
Sensing the absolute horror this realization has caused me, I see the panic overtake her.
"You've never faked it with me?" she asks as if in shock as she sets her beer bottle onto the table.
"No," I respond flatly, averting my eyes to the cards and selecting one myself. "Ah…another Queen…the Queen of Hearts at that," I announce as I hold it up for the stunned crowd to see.
Not stunned about the card selection, mind you.
Stunned that this 'orgasm revelation' has just taken place in front of them all, and that one of the two of us has never done that, and is finding out for the first time the other has.
"Okay, well this is just getting good." The sarcasm is dripping from my mouth as I sit back and contemplate what other confessions I need to elicit from my wife.
"I've never humiliated my partner in front of all of her closest friends," I suggest smugly as I slam by bottle down on the table and signal Spencer to drink up.
"Ashley," she begins to protest as I see bodies shift uncomfortably in the seats around me.
"What, shouldn't you be finishing that beer by now?" I inquire as I reach over and grab it and lift it to her mouth.
"Okay…how about we switch to poker," Glen offers as he begins scooping up the cards and making a pile before shuffling them nervously as he glances back and forth between us.
"I'll get more beers," Aiden offers as he hops up and walks towards the refrigerator.
"I think I am going to turn in," I announce as I rise and push my chair in quickly. "You guys carry on." I insist as I sweep my hand across the table before turning to start up the stairs.
"Ashley, please stay," I hear a quiet voice beg. Swallowing hard, I turn back towards the table.
"Nah…poker involves bluffing and I am not really into that," I inform her. "But you go ahead. Win us the pot, baby," I conclude flatly as I leave the after-party.
…
I have not fallen asleep, as I knew I wouldn't, when I hear her enter our bedroom. I listen to her stumble around as she changes out of her clothing. The bed shifts slightly and I feel her body slide against mine.
"Ashley…"
I contemplate faking sleep…and feel my stomach turn at the word…but before I can make the decision, she states, "You're awake and I know it."
I turn slowly to face her, and am met with wide, sad eyes.
"Was there a reason you chose that category?" I ask her softly. "I mean, were you trying to tell me something you could not have told me at the time I was apparently failing to please you?"
"I don't know why I said that," she replies sheepishly as she sinks down onto the bed to lay closer to me, pulling her head so that she is inches away from my face. "I thought it was a funny question, and I didn't think about how it would make you feel," she insists as she reaches out to touch my cheek.
"I am not sure if it's the humiliation of you implying I don't know how to please you in front of them, or the realization that I don't know HOW to please you that bothers me the most," I inform her as I shudder, mostly at the second thought.
"Oh, baby, no one in this whole world would ever know how to please me like you do," she insists as I roll over onto my back to stare at the ceiling. "Honey, I am serious. You are mind-blowing every time," she continues, the desperation in her voice multiplying.
"So when was it?" I ask her as if in thousands of times we had made love that one moment of failure is going to ring any bells.
"Ash…"
"When was it?" I persist, my eyes not breaking from the spot of the ceiling my eyes are trying to burn a hole in.
"The last time we made love in Miami a few months ago," she admits quietly.
Wait…what?
I turn to face her, my eyes conveying the confusion I am feeling.
"Which time?" I implore, the sickness in my stomach beginning to dissolve.
"When I was fucking you and you told me to cum inside you. The last time…" she reminds me and I sit up a bit.
"You mean when you almost passed out on top of me?"
And she nods.
"And I wasn't doing anything to you?" I continue, and she nods again.
"And that was really the only time ever?" I beg as I sit up and cross my legs.
"The ONLY time EVER," She assures me.
And I believe her.
Those eyes don't lie.
"Babe, I am so sorry that I embarrassed you, and that I made you doubt yourself for a single second," she whispers as she leans in towards me.
But as she kisses me, I feel myself hold back.
I guess I was scared that tonight might be number two…