His Necklace
The low vibration of her phone lying on her desk finally caught her attention. She smiled dreamily when she saw her husband's face and number appear. She picked up her phone. "Hi, babe."
He said, "Hi, Sweetie."
Earlier that day he had called her Baby. Now he called her Sweetie. She was loving his names of endearment for her. Growing up and as a teen, he had always called her Iris. His flower Iris had been enough. "What's up?" she asked. She put the phone on the desk and on speaker and continued typing up a report to herself. It was troubling, but she was going to take it to where it led her.
"Let's go to Classic Cinema tonight. They're showing—"
"Jurassic Park?"
"Babe… So that means no?"
"Barry, I'd love to go. What time?"
"You know… our time."
"The nine o'clock one," they said together. "Okay," she said. "I'll put that in my schedule."
Barry chuckled. "Thanks, Boss Lady."
Iris sighed. "Yeah, this story is going where I wish it didn't."
"The hospital story?"
"Yeah, that one," Iris said apprehensively.
"Who's stealing the kids' money?"
"I'm not sure, but I'm afraid I know one of them."
"How could you? That's Jim and Hortense Hayworth's set."
Iris sighed. "I'll tell you about it when you get home. And, Barry, what do you want for dinner? Sesame chicken with shredded carrots and noodles?"
"Well, since you put it like that, okay."
She laughed some. "Barry, your tone of voice—I know you, Bear."
"What?" he asked, not even trying to disguise his tone of voice. "What do you have cooked up?" Iris asked. "You sound too happy, or peaceful, or something…."
"Iris, I'm all of those things." Then he heard smooches. "See you in a few," she said.
...
Iris put on her succulent red lip stick and gave herself a once over in the mirror. She stood in a deep purple soft wool shirt dress that accommodated her growing belly, reinforced with a new maternity bra that kept her breasts high and separated and comfy. They were tender, bigger, and attracted Barry's burrowing face, his fingers, mouth and tongue. The husband and pregnant wife had yet to move into a no interest in sex phase. If anything, their senses were heightened and they touched each other with magic in their hands, in their fingertips, their seeking each other, their lips always wanting to press together. Except for the lipstick, she wore no make-up. For months her clear brown skin was her make-up. She had her hair pulled back in a loose and soft curly ponytail that in spite of the big puffy curls, swung or bopped whenever she moved around the bedroom. She stopped to catch herself in the mirror once more. She was still tiny, just more baby popping out in the front, and with that ponytail, she looked like varsity cheerleader Iris West, Squad Leader. She wore flats now to keep the swelling in her feet at bay and so far, so good, but making her appear shorter because she was shorter. Now she would have to stand on her tip toes to kiss Barry, but on the bright side, she loved the way she fit into his arms, could walk right in against his chest. Actually, she could hide there and wanted to, sometimes. Her hospital freelance story was bothering her and she was going to talk to Barry about it, but for tonight, they were going to the movies.
Iris still stood watching herself and amazingly, she looked like a teenager, a pregnant teenager. She twisted her mouth a little in an ironic smile. "Girl, you know you were out of your teens and still hadn't done anything." Suddenly there was a whoosh through the loft. Barry's lightning caught the light of their bedroom and her vanity dresser. But he walked through the bedroom door and gave her a kiss. "Babe," he said headed for the bathroom, "I'll be ready in a minute."
"Barry, don't speed through your shower. Enjoy it. We have time."
She saw his lightning circle back, light up her face, felt his lips on hers and watched lightning escape into the bathroom before she could say, "Thanks for the kiss." She smiled, but turned back to her vanity mirror because she was intrigued by Central City High School Iris West. With that ponytail all she needed were her pom poms.
She left the bedroom and went downstairs to give Barry privacy to dress. She was going to set the table for their dinner. She brought out her sesame chicken, noodles and carrots julienne on one platter. She went back to the kitchen area.
"Iris, have you seen my…." She turned around. Barry was downstairs and out in the loft with just his boxer shorts.
She grew distracted, plates still in her hands. "Yes?"
He grew distracted watching her with her little self and her popping belly, she carrying the child a little higher now, it seemed, her eyes bright with her big curly ponytail swinging just a bit. They both watched each other and struggled to get out of their moments of captured attraction. They both broke through, free until the next captured moment where they both understand in that moment how in love they both were; how happy they were, and how lucky they were, and they once believed that things could have turned out dreadfully differently, but they now came to admit they always captured each other in these moments; she held his attention more, but he captured her too. They captured each other.
"Uh, my undershirts."
"Oh, I moved some things. Let me show you." She put the plates on the table and he followed her back upstairs into the bedroom. It took Iris about five minutes to brief Barry on the changes in their vanity dresser and where everything was now. She had cleared out the top drawers for the baby's things and rearranged their things throughout their other chest of drawers. A few minutes later Barry took the stairs from their bedroom in a casual shirt and comfortable looking pullover sweater, and with his favorite sneakers, he looked like high school Barry. Iris came away from the kitchen area holding a pitcher of water. She sat it on the table with their dinner. She looked at Barry. "You look nice, Babe."
"Thanks," Barry said, and rushed over to help Iris with her chair. He said, "You look nice, too. You look …young." He sat in the chair next to her, the corner of the table between them.
She unfolded her napkin. "Maybe babies make you look younger," Iris said and smiled.
"That, and that sweet ponytail," Barry said.
"You like it?" Iris asked, sounding kind of surprised.
"Yes," Barry said, sounding nostalgic, "that ponytail reminds me of so many things, especially of Central City High School Varsity Sports."
Iris smiled and cut a little of her sesame chicken with the side of her fork, then wound a few noodles in with it.
"It reminds me of your pom poms."
Iris laughed. "Barry."
"No, really, Iris. And your short cheer leader skirts… and your wide-legged stances, your legs splitting the air, your legs from a standing position splitting downward to the floor. If I remember, slowly downward…Your thighs with that taut but slight jiggle…. Your cute ass bouncing and being commandeered by those thighs…."
Iris still laughed. "Barry," her eyes wide and bright, his eyes playful.
"Those thighs powered the best jumps of the cheering squad." They were both laughing now, but Barry continued. "Brown and smooth and muscular, but in an Iris West girly way. Sinewy. Yeah. Your sweet legs and thighs at the football and basketball games."
Her laughing subsided listening to Barry say the word 'Yeah.' She said, with a little tender stir, "My thighs and my legs at the games."
"I admit I was kind of jealous listening to the guys comment about the lead cheerleader."
"You realize none of them approached me because of Dad—a cop—and because of you—my lanky bouncer, security guard, and fake brother, but really, Barry, they thought you were my boyfriend, no matter what we said."
"They were reading the signals right," Barry said, and they continued their dinner, but Barry's gaze ventured out the window. It was December, dark, and the cold was on its way. Still the sky was clear and beautiful to Barry. He felt happy to be living with Iris and so high in the sky. He checked his watch. Iris said, "We won't be late for the movie." They sat quietly for a while. Their eyes met, their smiles subsided and there was a seriousness that they shared, staring into each other's eyes, not blinking, dinner forks stilled. They seemed to simultaneously lower their eyes. But then Iris looked at Barry with a small tilt to her head. He said, "I bought you something."
She glanced at the presents under their lighted Christmas tree. "Yeah, it's one of those," he said. Her smile returned looking at the tree, surveilling the presents; which one, she seemed to be musing. Barry said, "I want you to open it tonight, before we go to the movies. Can I get it for you?" And before Iris could say yes, no, or maybe he was up and she watched him go to their living room area and bend down and picked up a small box.
When he got back, he put it down on the table beside her. "Open it please, Iris." Then slowly, he took his seat. She looked to him quietly, curiously, and said, "Okay."
The husband watched the wife unwrap his present. It was beautifully wrapped, so he had the store do it, she knew. It had to be jewelry. The box from the upscale jeweler was saying a fine piece of jewelry was inside; maybe a pin, a broach, earrings, too small for a bracelet. She opened the plushy little box. It was a necklace. Barry watched as Iris picked it up and draped it over the palm of one hand. She put her fingers on the smooth polished gold. She played with the pendant initials attached to the necklace, a B and an I—elegant and intimate.
"Barry, it's so beautiful. Why are you trying to make me cry before we go to the movies?" she asked, looking at him, but she wasn't crying, but breaking out in a sentimental soft smile.
He said," Most of the jewelry from me to you came from my mom. Either my dad bought it or my mom bought it, and I gave it all to you because I love you, Iris."
"I love you, too," she said.
He said, "This is my second necklace to you, but I wish it were my first." Then he got up, and as she brought the necklace around her neck, Barry brought the clasps together, fastening it. He squatted beside her then, her belly gloriously between them.
"Barry…." she said, her hand reaching up to the dip in the necklace by the top of her cleavage, which she had more of now. She played with it gently, caressing the two little pendants, the B and the I. "This is lovely."
Her hand at his necklace pleased Barry. He said, "When I was sixteen, I saw something like this in a jeweler's case. It was just so pretty and so I thought about you, but we were best friends and even though we had had kid's sex on the floor of where we both lived, I still wanted to be your boyfriend and buy that for you. But I didn't have the money or the… heart, as in nerve, to chance your rejection. Also, out of fear you might not have liked that night we dry-humped, and may take the necklace the wrong way."
"Barry," she said, still playing with his necklace, "you know I liked it, because you did most of the humping. I was caught in a state of shock discovering that a part of your body could be that hard. You know how some of our high school friends use to hint that we were having sex because we lived together?"
"Yeah," he said quietly. "If they only knew, that was probably the only reason we didn't, because we lived together." Barry said. "How could we have sex and then go to bed in different rooms, but in the same house? How could we look at each other the next day at breakfast?"
"Not out of shame," Iris added, "but out of a shyness that we both had for each other because we were attracted to each other and didn't know how to serve our attractions. Eventually, we were going to do something childish and fall asleep together in one of our beds, probably yours, for my dad to discover us." Iris said.
"And the consequences?" Barry said. "What if you didn't like having sex with me and had to live with me anyway? What if…."
"Shh," she said. "I would have loved having sex with you the way I love this," her fingers still fondling the initials. "I'll call this my boyfriend necklace."
He stood up, and in the process, kissed her on the cheek and took his seat. "You know," he said, "we'll have to add another initial to your boyfriend necklace in about four months."
She reached for his hand then, and he gave it to her.
Their Movie
The boyfriend had his girl at the concession counter of Classic Cinema. He bought an extra-large popcorn with butter to share, two hot dogs with cheese and chili for Barry even though people probably thought Iris had a stake in one of those hot dogs. She laughed. "Barry, we just had dinner."
"I know," Barry said, "but I know I'm going to want these hot dogs. Do you want anything else, Iris? A water?"
"Okay, but a small one, because I know I'll have to get up and go pee during an exciting scene."
Barry bought two regular bottles of water anyway and Iris stuffed napkins on the cardboard tray with the bucket of popcorn, bottles of water and the hot dogs, and they started in to the theater.
"Hey, guys, are you following us or what?" they heard, and turned around and saw a grinning Dr. Joshua Rittenhauser with Becky Cooper. "Looks like you guys are following us," Barry said. Iris turned and gave Becky a hug. There was something settling to Iris about seeing Becky with Barry's friend. It wasn't a fear that Becky may come between her and Barry. It was a relief, because Becky had meant something to Barry, who, presently was smiling at his ex-girlfriend but friend, and his Massachusetts prodigy friend. "Let's sit together," Joshua said.
Becky laughed as they all walked down the aisle among other movie-goers in the darkened theater. "Not on your life," she said. "We are going to sit in a different section. The three of us have been to this movie before, with that detective, and things did not go well, but that's water under the bridge. And anyway, Iris is only going to put her head on Barry's shoulder, no matter who he's with, so I'm not worried about your shoulder, Josh, thank you very much. But do you mind if I flirt with you without our friends as witnesses?"
"You'll have to tell me about that," Josh turned and whispered to Barry, grinning and sounding playfully happy. As they all maneuvered down the aisle, Barry whispered in Josh's ear, "I see things are going well."
"Josh said, "Yeah. That Mind Reader didn't read our minds at all, but mixed up our dreams. I dreamed Becky's dream and she dreamed mine."
"Good I hope," Barry said.
"They were both good dreams, pleasant dreams. But who is that guy, Mind Reader? And do you have any idea about the 'gift box' he used? Because I was thinking—"
Becky took Dr. Rittenhauser's hand and guided him to a row and schooched down the aisle in the opposite section of Barry and Iris. Iris whispered, "See you guys." Becky waved her little quick wave and Iris followed Barry down a row of empty seats on the opposite side, where they had their pick and sat in the middle.
Rumors had it that Classic Cinema was owned by a Central City wealthy family that wanted anonymity, but wanted the movie theater to stay open. Barry and Iris both surmised that the theater could not have been a profitable venture, with the limited showtimes, the owners' blasé, casual attitude about the theater's daily hours and quantity of tickets sold; opening at noon, with the last showing starting at nine in the evening. Also, the classic movies were probably the owners' taste. "It's a shame about this theater closing," Barry said.
"It's just a rumor, Bear. I certainly hope not. Where are we going to take our family for movie nights?" They were caught in their moment of their lives' adventure and smiled at each other.
Barry said, "We'll just have movie night at home, like we use to do."He watched Iris as she brought a fat buttery popcorn kernel to her lips but Barry took her hand and guided the kernel to his lips where it stayed pressed to his lips a moment, then he opened his mouth and she pushed in the kernel. He let her feed him then from the popcorn bucket, sometime one kernel, sometimes two, sometimes a few at a time. Once it looked as if she might get a handful in his mouth. They wanted to laugh between his chewing but they both kept it together, even if they had started snickering. "Bear, stop before you choke," Iris said. He whispered, "Well, then stop feeding me popcorn."
She whispered, "Stop having an irresistible mouth I want to play with." And she took a buttery finger and gently rubbed it across his lips." He said, "Mmm, thanks, Iris."
She said, "So many times I wanted to do that when we sat together at my dad's house watching movies. I don't know why. Your lips just looked enticing, especially when you were excited or surprised by a scene. I used to like how they parted in surprise."
He sighed in his smile, then laughed when she said, "Okay. I'm hungry. Can I have one of those hot dogs?" She grinned, waiting for his answer. He grinned, too, and he passed her a hot dog. Iris said, "Your hot dog looks better. I think it has more cheese and chili than mine."
"Babe, you know they were both mine? So, beggars can't be choosy?"
They both sat back in their chairs and ate the hot dogs, giving each other glances between bites. Even though the theater was dark, they saw and felt the unique specialness of the moment. When they had finished their hot dogs, Iris asked, "You want some more popcorn, babe?" They were in for a night of pleasing each other.
Finally, the theater lights slowly dimmed out; just the wall sconces and exit signs were lighted up. The movie-goers could hear the old school projector as it presented the movie on the big screen, same as in its glory days, same as when Barry and Iris were teens. The music put everyone in the mood, and even though they had seen Jurassic Park countless times in the theater and at their childhood home, Iris whispered, "This is going to be good." Then she sat back and unconsciously played with their initials, the B and the I, as his necklace lay gently on her breasts under the unbuttoned collar of her shirtwaist dress. Barry's smile was soft, vulnerable, and happy watching her. He felt like her boyfriend at that moment. As they got comfortable in the chairs, they let their ritual happen. He let go of her hand to put his arm around her shoulder and she brought her head against his shoulder to enjoy his touch and Jurassic Park, because his touch made her happy and content, connected with her, and because yes, that was their movie.
Boyfriend
They were walking out of Classic Cinema holding hands and talking about the movie. They were amongst the night crowd but it felt like that first time Barry had taken Iris to the movies. They were both fourteen and Joe had said 'you kids can go' and not 'Barry has permission to take her,' but Barry heard the latter. He had showered and put on lotion and a little of Joe's after shave, even though he had yet to shave. Iris knew it too, and knew why. They had talked some on the way to the movies, they both wanting to grab the other's hand, but instead, they walked side by side, and they talked about their first ever un-chaperoned movie at a real movie theater. "We were so innocent," Barry said aloud. "We had not even kissed."
"I remember that time," Iris said. "It was the first time that I consciously thought about you when I searched through my closet for something to wear. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think that was our first date."
They walked through the Friday night crowds, some having exited Classic Cinema like them, some headed for Jitters for a jolt of java alertness and to warm their hands and insides and extend the good times of the night. Twinkling lights wrapped around street lights as well as shrubbery seemed to make people nicer, friendlier, more "excuse me" and "I'm so sorry" this time of the year in their city. Barry and Iris, too, enjoyed the seasonal mirth and good manners.
Iris was looking up at him, her coat buttoned all the way up, collar turned up, her scarf covering her throat and grown man Barry's necklace, her eyes bright with the memory. "You sneaked on some of my dad's cologne that time."
He grinned down at her. "It was after shave."
She was still looking up at him. "Why didn't I tell you that you smelled good?" Iris said. "I wanted to, but you were my best friend, and best friends did not feel the way I was feeling that day, all happy and energetic, ready to go and feeling like it was a date." She still held her gaze at Barry and said, "I just wanted to hold your hand."
He said, "Me too. And more."
"Now that I'm thinking about it, how about the tenth-grade high school dance?" Iris inquired.
"A date," Barry said.
"And all of Star Labs presentations and lectures?"
"Dates," Barry said. "You've really got to like a guy to go to a Star Labs science presentation, and then when he asks you again, you say, 'Yes.'
She giggled some. "I know, right? But bowling was family time. Not dates?" Iris asked.
"That was family time, but—" Barry said, "I remember the time we went alone, without Joe."
Iris giggled some more, enjoying herself walking alongside Barry. Holding hands with him made her whole body warm. "I remember that, too. It had to be right after we did our homework, and Barry, I can remember how excited we both were."
"Yeah," Barry said, chuckling some.
"So, you think we knew it was a date?" Iris asked all excited.
"Yeah, we knew, deep in our hearts, and maybe not so deep. I was my happiest when I was alone with you, where I could pretend that we were on a date, and I was your boyfriend."
It was late and dark and Barry guided Iris across the street to the parking lot where the movie crowd was thinning out, where Iris's car sat. They had deliberately taken a longer route, just to walk and hold hands. As they got closer to the SUV, Iris's recap of her favorite scenes of the movie this time around got quieter in Barry's ear. In fact, he lost Iris's attention because someone was leaning against their car. Iris stopped talking, then looked at Barry, then followed where Barry was looking. Barry heard Iris gasp and he knew who had raised himself from his lean against their car to stand up straight to wait for their approach.
"Barry Allen," Eddie said. Then he said, "Hi, Iris," in such a way that was purposely unreadable, except for its fake cordiality. The December night was cold and dark, and the parking lot lights just missed them, keeping them all in the relative dark.
Eddie kept his eyes on Iris and seeing her standing beside Barry holding his hand made Eddie jump with a pang of surprising anger and envy. It must have been a while for him. Last time he remembered seeing her was when she walked into the cleaners with the wedding dress that she married him in. He said, "I thought you were pregnant, but I wasn't sure when you entered the movie house." He turned to Barry. "So, I see you didn't take my advice, and put off having babies. They can ruin your young life. They're supposed to ruin your old life, which is why you hold on to your young wife for as long as possible, even if it's for a few hours."
"Why are you at our car?" Barry asked Eddie.
"Barry, you know I know this is Iris's car. You don't need a car. Do you?"
Barry kind of smirked. "Iris is pregnant. So yes, I need a car."
"What do you want?" Iris asked plainly, with a hint of what he may want, or why he was there. "I want you to erase your notes on my mother. She didn't know what Chambers was doing. You know her, Iris. You know she's not a thief."
Barry looked at Iris. "Your case?"
"Yes, my hospital case," Iris said to Barry. "I was going to tell you about it at dinner, but we … got distracted."
Eddie's eyes grew dark. "I'll bet," he said, as he took a step closer to the couple. He hadn't seen her in a while, but he could see Iris clearer now, her face young and high school girlish, no make-up, hair in a ponytail that he wanted to touch and he almost but he pushed his gloved hands in his coat pockets, blushing and angry at himself because he was blushing. He pushed his thoughts of Iris away before they both guessed at them and said to her, "My mother is not a thief."
"Yes, I know, Eddie, but she's vouched for him in a legal document that enabled him to have access to that money."
"The children's charity money," Barry said. "Did she know that he was a fraud?" Barry asked, and Iris answered, "I don't think so. I think Mr. Chambers is a fraud all on his own."
"Well, let's cancel out frauds," Eddie said. "I happen to know that Harrison Wells is a fraud, if he's even Harrison Wells," Eddie said. "Where did that man go, Barry? Because I don't believe he's dead.
"Don't mess with him or you're going to conjure up the dead, and you won't like it," Barry warned.
"I'll tell you what, Barry. Iris leaves my mother alone and I leave Harrison Wells' whereabouts alone. How about it, Iris? Do you think you can honor a commitment? Oh, no, you can't. Then what are we all going to do? I thought you liked my mother."
"Yes, I like Mrs. Thawne," Iris said softly.
"She likes you too, Iris. Remember? I knew you thought you were going to have some problems with her because of her friends, but as you know, she's not like that. And you weren't going to embarrass her, even if you didn't care if you embarrassed me."
"I tried not to do either one. But I left the chapel because I had to. I knew it then as I know it now."
"Why did you and your mother rush her?" Barry asked. "Your engagement was all of a whole month. Why the rush?"
Eddie answered plainly, "I didn't want her to change her mind. I didn't want to give her time to change her mind. I gave her just enough time to go through with it. The other part, though, a total surprise!" And Eddie laughed, but devoid of mirth, devoid of fun, or pleasure. Standing in Classic Cinema's parking lot looking at Barry Allen having the life he had planned with her made him realize how his laughter concerning that day was empty indeed. And Eddie knew that his feelings towards Barry were irrational, but Eddie saw Barry as the thief; the thief of his happiness. Somewhere in Eddie he always felt that if you snooze you lose, and Barry had slept for nine months and didn't deserve to wake up to Iris. Eddie glared at Barry. "My friend and I went looking for you that night, Allen."
"The tall blonde guy that was spying on us at the restaurant where Iris and I had our wedding dinner."
"Ooh, see, I told that smart-aleck he wasn't that smart. I got to tell him you were on to him—we made a bet. I won."
"Eddie, you should be ashamed of yourself if you hired someone to spy on us," Iris said.
Eddie shot Iris a look of frustration that she had seen time and time again wherever Barry claimed a piece of her life. Eddie said, "And not you, Iris? No shame for you?" He turned to Barry. "Like I said, my partner and I tore this city up looking for you that night. Why? I was pissed. I knew it was all over with me and Iris, but goddamit, Barry…." Both men tensed up. Barry said, "Iris, go get in the car."
"I'm staying right here," Iris said, not flinching.
Eddie smiled sarcastically, "That's my girl. Every now and then you showed me that kind of spunk. I liked that, Iris. Hated it, though, when you used it against me for him."
"But why are you really here," Barry asked. "What deal do you want to make with Iris? Or with me?"
"Barry, how the hell did you get out of Central City that night? And amazingly, without Iris's car, because it was still parked when we pulled up to Joe's house. And why didn't you use Iris's car?"
"You went to Joe's house?"
"That's the first place I went to, Barry, of course. Don't worry. Joe wasn't there. He was at the reception, knowing everything and looking miserable."
Iris said, "Eddie, I'm so sorry."
Eddie said to Iris, "That's what you get for not minding your boyfriends; but Barry, how did you get out of town? Without a car? And with Iris?"
"Let's cut the crap. Say what you came here to say, or we're leaving."
"Okay, Barry. I want Iris to erase my mother from her investigation, because she's innocent."
"I think Iris believes that," Barry said, "so her innocence will be apparent by the end of her report."
"But her reputation will be ruined and except for me, that's all she really has right now."
"Eddie, I'm not going to bring any innocent people into my story. I won't use her or anyone as fodder for a headline."
"Sorry, Iris, but I can't trust you," Eddie said.
"Well, then what do you expect her to do?" Barry asked.
"Ditch this whole thing," Eddie insisted. "She's going to give someone else ideas and they'll run with it, and I may not know a secret to hold over them."
Barry had had Eddie's smirks and not so cryptic comments in his mind for some time. He had hoped Eddie was off base, but now he knew for sure that he wasn't. Barry said, "If you make that public, you will do a world of harm to the people I love. You will put them all in danger."
"I don't care who you love."
"All of the people I love. And you once loved Iris. Do you want her life in jeopardy?"
"Oh, God, Eddie," Iris said, "you don't know what you're doing," she finally realizing what secret Eddie may have over Barry.
"You know, I thought I did with you, Iris. I said, 'She's cute, and how hard can it be? Her boyfriend's not coming out of that coma, not with those EKGs.'"
Iris said, "So, you did know the truth all along."
"Oh, you thought… that I didn't know… that he was your boyfriend? Iris, I watched you care for him. It was obvious. But I was also your boyfriend. Don't try to erase that."
"I'm not," Iris said. "And you supported me. Remember?" Iris asked. "You helped me get through a rough patch, a really rough time. I was crazy sad, going out of my mind when you walked into Star Labs, and you sat with me, and talked to me, and tried to make me stop crying. Until one evening, I did stop crying. And I said yes to Jitters. I'll never forget that you did that. Those things were good, Eddie."
"But you still went back to Star Labs, Iris. Regardless of what we did, where we went to, what you said yes to, you went back to Star Labs."
"And that was your answer, Eddie, to everything Iris in regards to me," Barry said. "It's not her fault that you refused to see it. She hadn't finished being a girlfriend to me. So how could she be yours? I was in a coma, but I was her boyfriend just the same. Some things don't need to be said if you already live it. You forced the issue with her, and in her gratitude to you, she went against what she knew was true, that she was already in a relationship. That she already had a boyfriend. That we were always going to be one."
"Always," Iris said to Barry, feeling as if some heavy load had been lifted off of her, off of Barry, and even Eddie, because it was spoken out in the open among the three of them.
Eddie said, "What took you so long? That's all you had to say. You, too, Barry."
"We all lied to one another," Barry said. "Adults lie the way fourteen year olds would never do."
"I'm so sorry, Eddie," Iris said again, "but I should have said no when you asked me to marry you. I should have said no to your mom, when she put the wedding invitations on the table and asked me to approve them, I should have stopped everything."
Barry looked at Eddie with contempt, and Eddie shrugged in the spirit of his college score whichever-way-you-can ways, and said, "I enlisted my mother. By that time, Barry, I guess I hated your guts. Why did she love you when you hadn't even bothered to fuck her? I mean…."
"Love is not sex, Eddie," Iris said. "And we knew that, didn't we, you and me?"
"If you mean there was no love in our sex, Iris, then yes, you are correct, love is not sex."
Barry didn't flinch. He just stood there and listened to Iris tell the truth.
"Sex isn't love," Iris continued. "Sex can be cold and sad, and can make a person want to cry, and sometimes I did," Iris confessed. Eddie said quietly, "That is not fair. I was not him." Iris said, just as quietly, "Do you know how many unfair things have happened to him? Too many," she said, "and he's not bitter. He's not angry." Finally, Iris said, "Take care of yourself, Eddie."
The three of them stood quietly. Then Eddie took a deep breath of the December Christmassy night air, stuffed his hands in his pockets, gathered himself and said quietly while walking away from them, "I know you're the Flash, Barry. Talk to your wife."
And as Eddie walked away, Barry spotted another couple making it to the adjacent parking lot. Iris was behind him, but as he held out his hand, he felt her hand slide into his, and they both gripped each other's hand relatively tightly. He said, not looking at Iris, but at the couple, "I've got you." He heard, "I know you do. I have you too." She stepped beside him then, and they both waved to the couple, Becky and Joshua waving back, strolling, it seemed, in the December cold night. Iris looked at Barry, watched his profile the way she used to, when she was a teen as she was coming to realize something then, and in her realizations, discovering that Barry had a beautiful mouth, especially when it was still and he was happy and content.
He remotely unlocked the doors to Iris's Navigator, helped his wife into the passenger's side and didn't move until she was seated, belted and comfortable. He asked, "Ready?" She said, "Yes." And with a whoosh his lightning barely registered through the car and Barry sat at the wheel, engine running. "I like your resolve," Iris said and ran her hand down his arm, the car warming them both. But really, what had just happened was what warmed them.
Husband Joys
They were in their living room sitting on the sofa, lights dimmed. She handed him his glass of wine and she held her goblet of ginger ale. Then she turned and hiked up her dress and straddled him. She said, "Hold this, will you." And Barry had her goblet of ginger ale in one hand and his glass of wine in the other. He felt her round belly press against his flat and toned abs. She lay her head on his shoulder, her hands traveling down his sides, stopping at his hips, then traveling to his backside and cupping his ass. "Iris," he said, as he felt her messaging his cheeks, her fingers and palms in medicinal motion. She whispered, "Where did you get these cheeks, Barry? Sitting up nice and perky the way they are."
He laughed. "Iris." He felt deliciously vulnerable, with her head against his shoulder, his arms outstretched with his wine in one hand and her ginger ale in the other.
Iris said, "Well, they are. I've always liked them. For a white guy, you've got a nice ass."
"Thank you?" Barry said, but Iris smiled quietly to herself, then raised her head, then moved her hands to the sides of his face. "You're welcome," she said. "I love everything about you."
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he sat up, moved forward, and placed their glasses on the coffee table. Then he leaned back against the sofa and let Iris press their baby into his middle, let her thighs slide down the outside of his thighs, her dress riding up, her feet cupping and being warmed under his legs. He grew hard as she twisted her crotch into his groin. Her arms went under his, her head back on his shoulder where it always felt like paradise to her.
He said, "Lift up, and she did and heard him unzip his pants, heard them rustle and felt them brushing against her as he slid them to the floor. He waited for Iris to remove her panties where they landed on his discarded pants. Straddled over him anew, she felt his warmth that became hot between her thighs as she felt his hands, her dress sliding up over her backside, he grabbing her under her warm bare bottom, lifting her up, then gently guiding and sliding her over his hard penis, starting with the tip, as Iris whispered, "Barry…." then slowly moving her down as he groaned until she felt most of him, but not all, they deciding that she could not sit on all of him, because of their child; her vaginal muscles grabbing his erection. His head went back gently, his arms went around her, his hands playing with the contours of her back, her soft shirtwaist dress rising as his hands grabbed the fabric as they traveled over her. Her head rose from his shoulder to accommodate Barry's searching mouth, and he took her tongue with an energy that she freely gave to him. His tongue left her mouth, and trailed down the hollow of her throat to her breasts where it burrowed between them and played. His kisses fell on her, sweet and tender, on her necklace, where he kissed the B and the I warmly living there, he thankful to be experiencing Iris, loving the fact that he had her, thankful that he could be with her every night if she wanted, and she wanted what he wanted. He was thankful for that too as she heard him say, "Iris, I love you so much," the way she would say, the way she would confess her love to him. Her arms came around his neck and she hugged him tightly and said softly, "I know, Barry. I know, baby. I know, my love."
They made love on the sofa, their movie date night put away in a sweet memory. They moved, their hips bucked, their hearts fluttered, he leaning back, she sitting on him, her face riding and caressing the side of his. They worked the sofa cushions as they ground into each other how they felt about each other. Their baby was not in the way, and would never be in the way of their bodies, of their family time, of their intimate happiness, of their union, because their sex intertwined with their love; their love meshed with their sex. She held Barry, hugged him tightly, happily succumbing to the realization that she could not tell the difference between Barry's sex or his love. And she felt herself coming, saying, "Oh, Barry..." And she knew he would come soon after and he did, their bodies moving in their orgasms, wetting each other's glorious privates that could make them come, and make a baby. Iris's head went back to his shoulder, his arms went back around her, and they were sated and stilled for the time being. After awhile, Iris opened her eyes and said, "Always, Barry, like this." Barry whispered, "Yes, Iris. Always like this."
…
In the middle of the night, they woke up still on the sofa. Barry was flat on his back in his boxer shorts and Iris lay on top of him, but on her side, in his shirt, covering most of her. His arms were around her, and she felt safe and loved the way she always did when he was home, where she made her life at the loft. Her head lay on his chest affording her the view of the necklace that Barry had given her. She had carefully taken it off and it lay across a clean cloth on the coffee table. It was dark in the room, but she could still make it out, could see the lovely chain, could see distinctly the B and the I. Her boyfriend necklace. She said, "Thank you, Barry, for the necklace. You make me feel special every day. I only hope the things that I do, the way that I live with you make you happy."
He raised his head some and kissed the side of her face, then his head rested again. He only said, "Next week, we will be married for one year."
He felt her squeeze him. She said, "Yes."
He said, "There will be many more."
She said, "Yes, many, many more."
He said, "There are more small boxes under the tree."
She said, "Yes, I saw them. Three or four?"
He said, "Five. I got carried away." and they both laughed softly, knowing that that was restraint for Barry. He took her hand and their thumbs flirted. She said, "Barry, all of my presents to you are so lame."
He said, "Your presents could never be lame, because they are from you and from your heart." And she felt his light kiss on her head, in her hair, the ponytail long since came undone and Iris's loose and curly woman hair felt the strokes of Barry's fingers. They lay like that for a while, quiet, contented, but then Iris's words were soft and nervous. She said, "I do have a different present for you, Barry."
He said, "Oh Yeah?"
She said, "Yes. It's a set of journals. I didn't know what to do with them."
He said, "Your journals?"
"Not what you think." And then she stopped her thumb from flirting with his and he stilled himself in attention to her moment. "I kept a journal of you when I, I'm ashamed to say, had given up hope. When I thought you would never come out of your coma." He was quiet and she went on. "But not of you in your coma, not of me and how I felt about that. The first chapter of the journals I wrote is when I first saw you at my locker in middle school; the last chapter was high school prom night. I stopped there because you had awakened. And you looked so handsome, Barry, prom night. I remembered and I wrote our experiences down. I was afraid that if I lost you to the coma, I would lose you to my memory; that an old woman's memory would finally take you away from me, take you away from this world without knowing your beautiful soul. So, I put you in my journals, with paper and ink, and in my own handwriting."
He was quiet for a time and she wondered if she had made a mistake in offering him her writings of him. But she felt his tight embrace bringing her into him against his body, and felt his lips on her face, here and there. He said, "Oh, Iris. Don't make me cry."
She shushed him and said, "I didn't write down anything sad, because I didn't want to. When I was writing about you, I was already sad, so I wrote down the happy moments, the joy-filled times. And I do dedicate a lot of pages to describing you. I was just so afraid of losing the green sparkle of your eyes, your lovely voice." She sighed, and said, "But fear is not in the journals, Barry. Only how happy you made us, my dad and me."
He still lay with his arms around her and she moved her arms under his and held him. They just lay like that for a time, with her thinking that they would take a ride up to the cabin to visit his dad and Mary Alice during the Christmas season. They had lots of gifts for them both but especially for the man who had raised Barry, until he couldn't. They had a Christmas dinner to make it to at her dad's house before the trek, and had lots of presents to leave there as well. She was looking forward to spending time with her brother Wally, who had promised to visit them before the new year, and she had one more doctor's appointment with Caitlin before the end of the holidays. After all, Caitlin had cleared her and Barry to travel by car or train, boat or plane, but not by Flash. She was going to try on her sexy swim suits that she bought and show her husband that his five months pregnant wife will still entice him in the warm Caribbean island waters, where they were headed to celebrate their one year wedding anniversary. She cleared her mind of all of those things and for now, enjoyed Barry's arms, enjoyed his face burrowing in her neck, enjoyed his kisses there, and finally, she smiled lying with him in their darkened living room because he commenced his ritual rub over her belly and their baby. Barry's voice broke the silence, and that alone made her indescribably happy, so she did not care that her eyes welled up with tears because she knew they were happy tears.
He said, "Our next chapter."
"Yes."
"We'll write this together."
"Yes," she said.