Title: A Dream Life
Author: Andrea (CarbyLove@aol.com)
Rating: R
Author's Note: Thanks for the line by line editing COURTNEY. I'm still not sure what your problem with the "ohs" was … but you'll see they've been removed as per your request. Thanks to KELLY and LISA for the feedback. Thanks to LANIE for all the reviews. Thank to ALL MY LOYAL READERS for the reviews. Please don't stop now. Enjoy the following twenty-three pages of ridiculous nonsense and random smut. And c'mon … if I can write 9700 words, you can write a little review, right?
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A Dream Life
Chapter 14: Mall Madness
"Good morning," Maggie says cheerfully as I stumble in to the kitchen.
"Morning," I say with a yawn.
"Did you … uh … sleep okay?" She asks me. There's something about the way she says it that makes me think she might have her suspicions about John and I, and our … nocturnal activities.
"Um … yeah, just fine." I say carefully.
"Good." She walks over to the table, hands me a glass of orange juice, and sits down. She gives me a sly smile and then says, "You're sure? The bed wasn't too … hard or soft … or too small?"
"No, we did just fine." I tell her with a rueful smile of my own. "As I'm guessing you heard."
"Well … I heard. But don't worry, I didn't listen. I mean, I was in bed when I heard some … commotion. And you sounded like maybe you … weren't feeling well. I was afraid something was wrong, so I got up to check on you. But just as I was about to knock on your door I heard …"
"What?" I ask, alarmed at the possibilities.
"I heard you giggling. So I came out here and had a cup of tea. Since … you know, I figured you were okay."
"I was more than okay," I mutter under my breath.
"That's good, sweetie." She says with a knowing smile. "I'm glad you two are staying close."
"Yeah we 'stay close' a lot these days."
"I remember that. All those hormones."
"Yeah. This pregnancy has been, like, the biggest aphrodisiac ever."
"Really?"
"Yeah. We've been real close for most of the pregnancy. All but the first couple of weeks."
"Morning sickness?"
"Nope, I didn't have morning sickness. We just were having a rough time for a while there. After my freak out. But once we found out we were pregnant … and it's been like that ever since. And, of course, then there was when we were trying to get pregnant and we had to …" I trail off when I suddenly remember that I'm talking to my mom, not Susan. Maybe she'd rather not know this. But she's just grinning at me.
"Were you trying for long?" She asks, subtly changing the subject.
"Oh, yeah," I say sarcastically. "A whole day. Well, actually … more like twelve hours."
"Wow. Fertile." She remarks.
"Yeah, like bunnies. Which is kinda scary. You know, how easily it happened. But I guess it's a good thing … since it did happen so fast, I was already pregnant by the time I freaked out."
"You keep mentioning that 'freak out.' Yesterday, too. What happened?"
"I don't know. I thought I'd gotten over my fears. But then we started trying, and I suddenly felt like I wasn't ready at all."
"You didn't … you weren't … you know, doing it for John, were you? I mean, it was something you wanted, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it was my idea. He never pressured me about it. I mean, I knew he was open to it whenever I was ready. And I thought I was. Ready, that is. I think I kinda buried all thoughts of what could go wrong. But then … when it wasn't just theory anymore, it was a little overwhelming. I like to think I'm getting better about the whole 'negative thinking' thing, but this is just too important. I didn't want to mess it up."
"You won't, Abby. You'll do just fine. God knows, you've had plenty of practice. All those years of taking care me, taking care of your brother … I can't imagine anything motherhood could throw at you that you couldn't handle."
"Really? I can. I couldn't handle it if the baby … gets sick."
"You mean gets my bad genes."
"No. Well, maybe. I don't think I could go through it again."
"You won't have to. Abby, you're not bipolar, so the chances of your kids being sick …"
"Less than ten percent. Maybe less than five."
"And those are pretty good odds."
"But it could still happen."
"And if it does, you'll still love her. Just like we still love Eric. Abby, I hate it that I gave your brother my disease. But even if I'd known that, he would grow up … to be like me … it wouldn't have changed a thing. Believe me, you'll feel the same way. And you won't have to go through it alone. John loves you. He loves this baby. He won't run away. Your father … he was running from me, not you kids. It was … I was too much for him."
"That's what I'm afraid of. I'm not … the easiest person to be married to. We have our problems, separately and together. What if it all gets to be too much one day? What if I push him away? What if we mess up this poor, defenseless baby?"
"Oh, Abby. Everybody worries about things like that. Except for the ones that don't care. So your worrying just goes show what a concerned mother you are. And all expectant mothers worry about things going wrong, about doing things wrong. It's perfectly normal. There's nothing wrong with being a little scared. You just can't let it get the best of you."
"Ugh. Eric's right. I'm gonna be a paranoid, uptight mother and make the kid totally neurotic."
"No, you won't. Abby, you're gonna be a good mother. I'm just sorry that I wasn't a better role model for you. A better mother for you. But you've done so well in spite of that. And your child will be lucky. Not only is she going to inherit your strength and intelligence, she's gonna have you there with her. Teaching her, guiding her, just being there. You can do that, you're gonna do that. And so she's gonna be off to a great start. Already you're giving her more than you ever had. Which is every parent's dream. To see to it that our kids have it better than we did. That their lives are better, happier, richer than ours were. And if you do that for her, Abby, you'll have done a lot. More than you realize."
She reaches over and takes my hand, giving me a smile. "But I guess you must have realized all that, since my grandchild is already on the way." With her other hand, she pats my belly.
"Well, not exactly … I just got lucky because it had already happened when I had my meltdown."
"Oh right. The first time. Well, that was lucky."
"Yeah. I feel really lucky these days. We had a scare a couple of weeks ago." She looks startled, her face clearly showing her concern. "It's fine. Turned out to be nothing serious. But for a little while, I thought might be losing the baby. And I've never been so scared in my life. I realized then just how desperately I want this. And you're right, I'm gonna love this baby so much … it doesn't matter. Any kind of pain that I have to go through … it's worth it. But I'm not really afraid for myself anymore; it's the baby that I worry about."
"Welcome to motherhood."
"Yeah. I know it'll be worth it. I just hope this child feels the same way. I know this baby's a … gift. I just hope she … or he will feel the same."
"Well, how often have you wished that you'd never been born?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?" She raises her eyebrows, but I think she knows I'm not serious. Not really. Sort of serious. "There have been times in my life … But lately? Never. So just so long as the baby is okay … healthy … and grows up happy … I'm not asking for too much, am I?"
"No, not at all. I'm sure the baby will be fine. She'll arrive safe and sound and perfectly healthy and grow up to be perfectly happy."
"I just hope it was the right decision … wanting a baby."
"Well, obviously it was. After all, it happened so quickly, it must have been meant to be."
"What was meant to be?" John asks, appearing in the kitchen, his hair still disheveled from sleep.
"The baby." I say, as he comes over and gives me my good-morning kiss before sitting down in the chair next to me.
"Oh, well, naturally," he says with a sleepy smile. He's cute in morning, half-asleep and all rumpled.
"So," Maggie says as she pats my hand and stands up, "What do you kids want for breakfast?"
"Cake!"
"Abby." John gives me a stern look. I think he's practicing for fatherhood.
"What? I want some cake. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. But how about if you have something healthy first. Baby can't live by cake alone, you know. Have some eggs. Or some oatmeal. Fruit."
"Cake."
"Real food.
"Cake."
"I'm making pancakes. Blueberry pancakes," Maggie says, probably hoping to end the debate. "We'll have cake later."
Carter turns to me and sticks out his tongue. Lovely.
"Fine. Pancakes are good. I want lots and lots of syrup."
"Abby, this sweet tooth is out of control. That child is going to come out on a huge sugar high."
"It's not my fault. I can't control the cravings. Talk to your child."
"Okay." He leans over, putting his hands on my belly. "Hey, Baby. Good morning. Mommy says it's all your fault that her teeth are going to rot out of her mouth."
"I really don't think it's that serious," I say, looking down at the top of his head while he whispers to the baby. "I haven't given up brushing my teeth, you know."
"I know," he says, sitting up and leaning forward to kiss me. I wrap my arms around his neck and return the kiss, getting lost in it.
"Don't mind me," Maggie calls, "I'm just making the pancakes." Oh yeah, we're in my mom's kitchen. So maybe we should get it under control. I push him away and move into the kitchen to help my mom. We manage to make the pancakes without burning them or setting anything on fire. All in all, a success. And any breakfast that involves a cup of syrup being poured over it works well for me.
"So," Maggie asks, as she starts to clear the breakfast dishes. "What do you want to do today?"
"The mall," I say without hesitation. Hey, when you're in Minneapolis, you can't miss out on a chance to visit the Mall of America.
"Ugh," Carter says, apparently not sharing my assessment.
"Oh, c'mon, it'll be fun."
"Fun?"
"Yeah."
"Do you actually need something at the mall or do you just want to … hang out?"
"What? Am I thirteen? I actually need something."
"Like what?"
"Well, now that you ask … bras. I need new bras."
"Bras? You're going … bra shopping?" Suddenly, he seems more interested.
"Well, I know I just got some new ones, but these things just keep growing. And I was going to have you give me your opinion … but I'm sure you'd be bored. So you can just stay here, if you want. I'm sure there's some sporting event on TV."
"No, I could go. I mean … if you need an opinion."
"That's okay. I'm sure my mom will go with me and help, right Mom?"
"Sure, sweetie. I'll bet we can find you some nice maternity bras."
"I'll go," John says.
"No, you don't want to go shopping … you can just stay here." I turn toward my mom in the kitchen. "I'm glad you mentioned those maternity bras … lots of good support. It's very important to John that I keep them well supported. And since he didn't think my tank tops were doing the job … definitely maternity bras are the way to go."
"They're adjustable," Maggie offers. "Or maybe they just stretch. Who knows, these days."
"Practical," I say.
"Not especially sexy," Maggie offers, "But who really needs black lace at a time like this anyway?"
"Yeah, why bother with that now while my boobs just keep growing … and are getting bigger and bigger … better to just get something serviceable."
"Abby? I wanna go."
"Well …"
"Please, can I go? I'll buy you whatever you want. We'll get you some new clothes …"
"Lunch?"
"What?"
"Will you buy me lunch?"
"Of course."
"Then you can go."
An hour later, the three of us are just about to head out the door, Maggie having decided that she wouldn't mind a trip to the mall. Just as she opens the front door, Eric appears.
"Hey, where's everybody going?" He asks.
"Bra shopping," I tell him.
"Cool."
"You wanna come along?" I ask.
"Sure."
Carter's furrowing his brow and giving me a look.
"What?" I ask as we are heading to the car.
"He's your brother."
"Yeah?"
"And you invited him to come bra shopping with us?"
"Oh, I'm sorry … were you not aware that there's more than just Victoria's Secret at the mall? He's not coming in the dressing room with me."
"Of course not. That's my job."
"We'll see about that."
After a short ride to the mall, a long argument about where to park, and that inevitable hunt for a good space, we finally make it into the massive mall.
"Wow," Carter says as we walk in, "This place is huge."
"No shit," Eric says … "There's an amusement park in the middle of the place."
"Cool, huh?" I say.
"Don't even think about it," John says to me.
"Think about what? Taking the baby on its first roller coaster ride?"
"It's just a little roller coaster, John. Like, for kids," my brother says.
"Yeah, it'll be fun. The baby says it wants to ride the roller coaster," I know it's mean to tease him, but he's so cute when he gets all flustered and overprotective.
"No, no, no! You're not taking my baby on any roller coaster."
"How about the bumper cars?" Carter looks stricken at my suggestion.
"There are bumper cars?!" Eric seems very excited.
"Bumper cars?!," Carter repeats, "Abby, you can't be serious."
I can't help but roll my eyes. "I'm not."
"Good," Carter says, looking relieved.
"How about the merry-go-round?" I ask.
"No! No rides of any kind!" He says.
Putting my hands on his shoulders, and leaning up on tiptoe, I whisper into his ear, "I can think of one thing that you wouldn't mind me riding." I give his ass a little pinch for good measure.
"Abby!"
Maggie and Eric, a few feet ahead of us, stop and turn around at his outburst, both of them giving us a quizzical look.
Carter's turned red, but I find the whole thing funny. "You're cute when you blush." I tell him, kissing his cheek. "Hey, look," I say, pointing at a store across the way, "It's one of those make-your-own-teddy-bear places. Let's go." I grab his hand and pull him across the aisle.
"Teddy bears?" John asks, still a step behind my thoughts, I guess.
"Yeah. C'mon. We can make something for the baby."
"Oh, okay." He smiles somewhat giddily at the prospect. Mom and Eric turn to follow John and me. And so the four of us descend upon the unsuspecting teddy bear store en masse.
"Wow, look at all these teddy bear bodies," Eric says, reaching into a bin and extracting a teddy bear 'skin' in need of stuffing. "It looks like a bunch of dead teddy bears. Like there was a teddy bear war. Or maybe like a Mack truck flattened out Teddy Bear Village."
"What?" I ask.
"Yeah, look at them, Abby. They're all flat … like road kill. Like they've been run over by a semi. Splat! There goes another one." I just shake my head at him, laughing in spite of myself. Even when he's 'normal,' he's not normal. "Here," he says, selecting a new flat bear from one of the many bins, "I like this one … let's use this one for Squirt's road kill bear."
"Please don't call my baby Squirt."
"Yeah," Carter offers, "We call it Flubber."
"You call it Flubber."
"Flubber?" Maggie asks.
"Don't ask," I tell her.
"C'mon," Carter says to me, "Let's pick out a bear for Flubber. Hey, how about that one?"
"What one?" I ask, looking in the direction that he's pointing.
"That one hanging on the wall."
"John. That bear must be as tall as I am."
"Yeah, so?"
"I don't even think you can make one that big. I think it's just a decoration."
"I'll bet you can. I'm gonna ask."
"Wait. What on earth would we do with a five-foot-tall bear?"
"We can put it in the nursery."
"We don't have a nursery."
"Well, we will soon. And we can put the bear in it."
"I think it would scare the baby. It's like … a thousand times bigger than a newborn. Besides, how would we get it home? I'd have to ride in the back seat."
"But Abby … it's so cute! It could sit in the corner of the baby's room --"
"That we don't have."
"That we will have. Anyway, it could sit in the corner with all the other stuffed animals. And you know, watch over the baby."
"No."
"Why?"
"It's not necessary. C'mon, let's go find a regular-sized teddy bear."
"Of course it's not necessary, it's just fun."
"No"
"Fine," he says with a pout.
"You know, I think I hope the baby is a girl. Apparently, I already have a little boy."
"Haha. Okay, let's go find a little teddy bear."
"Oh look, they have lots of animals," I say, looking around. "Oh, this baby tiger is so cute," I say, playfully holding up the un-stuffed animal to Carter before slipping my arm around his neck. "Don't you think so, Tiger?" I ask him in low voice as I kiss his neck.
"Abby, cut it out." He removes my arms from around his neck, placing them back at my sides. Taking the tiger body out of my hands, he puts it back in its bin and says, "I think we should stick with a teddy bear. Definitely a teddy bear." He gives me a strange look as he crosses the room toward a wall full of bears waiting to be stuffed.
"Oh, now isn't this cute?" Maggie says, pointing out the sign that details the steps for making a 'new friend.' "After you stuff and stitch your bear, you have to give it a bath and then you can dress it. This place is just too much fun." Good thing we're all so easily amused.
"So which bear?" Carter asks. "How about this one?"
"That's white." I tell him.
"So?"
"It for the baby. Have you ever seen a baby? They leak. A lot. Not white. How about this one? Dark brown, it won't show anything."
"I like it; it's the same color as your hair."
"Nah," Eric says, "That one looks kinda mean. How about this one?" He has the unstuffed bear over his hand like a puppet and is making it dance.
"Eric …" I say, rolling my eyes at him, but laughing at his antics, too.
"What? He's cute. And soft. Not too light, not too dark. Not too big, not too small. He's just right."
"Thanks, Goldilocks," I tell him, taking the bear. "You're right, though, this one is just right."
Between the four of us, we manage to get the bear stuffed. Quite a feet considering all we had to do was turn a handle. And then Carter demonstrates his suturing skills by stitching up the bear. Unfortunately, then we're supposed to dress the thing. I'm all for tying a bow around it and calling it done, but I get outvoted.
"Look, Abby. Look at this." John holds up a very cute, very pink, very frilly ballet outfit.
"How about this?" I counter, holding up an adorable baseball uniform.
"You really think it's a boy?" He asks.
"Girls can play baseball. You are talking to a former Little League All-Star, you know."
He looks at the pink tutu and ballet slippers in his hand. "Well, boys can … be … ballerinas," he says with reluctance.
"Yeah, if they wanna get beat up on the playground," Eric chimes in.
"And I think 'ballet dancer' is the proper term, dear," Maggie adds.
"It's not ballerino?" Eric asks.
"How many ballerinos do you know?" I ask him.
"None. But I don't swing that way. Come to think of it, I don't know any ballerinas either. Which is kinda too bad."
"Never mind," I say, turning back to Carter and taking the ballerina costume out of his hand. "How about we pick something neutral?" I suggest.
"Oh, look at these cute little baby bear clothes." Maggie says.
"Yeah! Let's make a baby bear." Carter sounds way too excited about this whole thing.
"It's just a teddy bear." I'm only a little bit exasperated. But honestly, we probably won't spend this much time picking out clothing for me.
"I know. We could make a whole bear family. Daddy Bear, Mommy Bear, Baby Bear."
"No. No. One bear. One. That's enough."
"Geez, Sis, lighten up. I told you … uptight."
"I'm not uptight." So my jaw's clenched, so what?
"Do you like this one?" Carter holds up a little outfit made to look like a baby's sleeper.
"It's pink."
"Well, there's no yellow so it's either pink or blue … and since I'm pretty sure it's a girl, and you claim to have no gut instinct, let's just go with pink."
"No, let's go with blue. Boys and pink is kinda weird, but girls and blue is fine."
"Pink. It's prettier."
"Blue. It's more neutral." I can't believe we're fighting over how to dress our bear.
"Pink."
"Blue."
"Stop!" Maggie walks in between us, stopping this argument before it can progress. "How about this one? It's pink and blue. See? Stripes."
"Like a prison jumpsuit. Cool."
"Thank you, Eric," Mom says.
"No, these stripes are vertical, aren't prison stripes horizontal?" I ask, for no apparent reason.
"I think the stripes are vertical, too," Carter says.
"No, the bars are vertical, the stripes are horizontal."
"There are no stripes," Maggie says. "They wear orange jumpsuits. Or denim." I raise my eyebrows at her, wondering when she became so well versed in prison fashion. "Too much Court TV."
"Because we all haven't spent enough time in court ourselves," Eric throws out.
"Oh my God. Can we just finish this and get out of here?" I ask. Now, I know this was my idea. And I'm having fun. Really. But I'm also getting hungry. Which means I'm getting cranky. And all this time just to make a child's toy … it shouldn't be this complicated.
"We have to dress the bear," John says.
"Fine." I take the bear out of his hand and the sleeper … or prison jumpsuit … out of Maggie's hands and proceed to shove that bear into it.
"Wow, Abby. You've really got the touch," Carter says, playfully.
"You're not gonna let her dress the baby, are you?" Eric asks.
"What?" I demand.
"Well …" Mom starts.
"What did that poor bear ever do to you Abby?" John asks.
So I've got the head jammed under my arm, while I yank one the arms through the pajamas. It's like they think that's a bad thing or something. "It's just a toy!"
"Nice way to treat your kid's toy," Eric says.
"Didn't you read the sign, Abby? This is a new friend made with love. And it's for our baby. You could be a little more gentle, don't you think?"
"Here," I say, shoving the finally-dressed bear against Carter's chest, "Go pay for your new friend."
Of course, when he gets back he's all excited because they've packaged our new friend in a cardboard box that looks like a Moses basket.
"Look, Abby, it's Baby's first teddy bear." He holds the box towards my belly. "What do you think, Flubber, do you like it? What's that? Your bear needs a name? What do you want to name the bear, Mommy?"
"I dunno … Bear? And don't call me Mommy."
"We can't just call it Bear," he protests, as we're walking through the mall once again. "That's silly."
"And Flubber isn't?"
"Hey, I know … we can call the bear Flubber, too."
"We're not having this conversation," I tell him.
"We're not?"
"No! It's ridiculous and … wait, where are Maggie and Eric?"
"I told them we were going bra shopping next, so they're gonna meet us in a little while." He takes my hand and leads me into a store full of underwear.
Of course, I'm here on a practical mission. I just want to get some new bras. Ones that I can actually squeeze my ever-growing boobs into. Naturally, John has other ideas. He's in a store full of women's lingerie, and he's like a kid in a candy store. Actually, he gets the same look on his face when he's in a candy store. Or a toy store. Or a store full of do-it-yourself teddy bears. But in here, everything he picks up is black and lacy and silky and impractical.
"What am I supposed to do with that?" I ask, looking at the teddy he is holding out at me.
"Uh … wear it?"
"I don't think little Flubber will fit," I say patting the bulge with both hands.
"Well, Flubber's not gonna be in there forever. And I think this will still fit now. We'll just have to get something bigger for later. Maybe something two-piece. I wonder if they have a maternity section?"
And he's off, leaving me to search through the less-exciting bras. I find some that will do nicely for everyday and even a couple less-practical black lace numbers as a concession to Carter's desires. I look around for him so that I can tell him I'm heading to the dressing room. I finally spot him admiring a display of garter belts.
"You can forget about that," I tell him. And then, spying an item next to the garters, I say, "Crotchless underpants? I didn't know that they sold that kind of thing in here."
"Hey!"
"Don't get any ideas about that one either. Personally, I don't get it. If it's crotchless, why bother to wear it? You might as well just not wear any underwear at all."
"Well …"
"I'm going to the dressing room," I interrupt, holding up my collection of bras.
"Okay," he says. It's not until I turn the corner of the hallway leading to the dressing rooms, that I realize he's following me.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm gonna give you my opinion. That's what you wanted, right? And I can't very well tell you which ones I like if I don't get to see you model them."
"John, I don't think --"
"Relax, Abby. No one's here. The store is dead. We've got the place to ourselves."
"Well …"
"What's the worst that could happen? Besides these rooms are all …fully enclosed. No one will know that I'm here."
"Okay, fine. Come on," I grab his arm and drag him into a dressing room at the end of the hall.
He takes a seat on a little bench, and prepares to enjoy the show. He insists that I try on the negligees that he's brought into the dressing with us. I have to say that putting them on over my own underwear kind of ruins the effect, but at least I know that they fit. Guess I'm getting some new, perfectly impractical, totally disrespectable, completely sexy underwear. Well … yay!
When it comes time to try on the bras, his eyes never leave me. He watches me, watches my reflection. He seems to approve of the black lace bras. Quite a lot, in fact. I'm standing in front of the mirror, modeling one of them and studying my rounded figure. I watch him watching me as my hand trails over my little belly. When I'm dressed, it's still not obvious what's going on. A baggy shirt is all it takes to conceal the whole thing. But standing here in my underwear, my poochy belly seems quite pronounced. Still, I can't help but smile at the sight.
"You're gorgeous, you know." I roll my eyes at him in the mirror. He gets up and moves to stand behind me, wrapping his arms loosely around me. "You really are." He dips his head forward, and I instinctively tilt mine back so that our lips can meet in a sweet kiss. After a moment, he turns me around in his embrace, so he can really kiss me like he means it. And apparently, he means it.
"I like this bra," he says in a low, and if I'm not mistaken, seductive voice. He trails one finger along the lace edging of the cup. His touch is so light, I can barely feel it. And that makes it all the more sensuous. I find myself closing my eyes. Soon I find his lips where his fingers were a moment ago, kissing along the swell of flesh not concealed by the lacy undergarment. He reaches around behind me, unhooking the bra, then slowly sliding the straps down my arms. He removes it and drops it on the pile with the others. He backs me up against the wall as his head dips down. And then his mouth is on one of my now-naked breasts. I sigh as he nibbles at the flesh and suck in a breath when he captures a hard nipple. I swallow hard, trying not to make any noise as he sucks at my flesh. Mmm … it does feel good.
"John?" He looks up at me, possibly thinking that he's in trouble, judging by the uncertain look on his face. "Other side? It's feeling sort of neglected," I tell him. He grins up at me, replacing his mouth with his hand on the current side, and then moving to nuzzle and lick at the formerly neglected side. If he keeps this up much longer, I'm going to be very, very happy. His talented tongue on my extremely sensitive boobs is a recipe for a very happy Abby. I let my head fall back against the wall, forgetting almost completely that I'm in a public dressing room. This feels way too good to worry about details like that.
Especially now that he's getting down on his knees and kissing at my belly button. His hands wrap around my waist, and he pulls me towards him, then turns me around and backs me up until I'm at the bench he was occupying earlier. I sit down and bring us face to face. He smiles at me and leans in to kiss me. A lingering kiss on my lips, then down my neck, over my shoulder, back across one lucky breast, down my stomach … and then he dips even lower. I swear, I can't help it … my legs just fall open all on their own. I didn't mean for that to happen. And now he's kissing my most sensitive flesh through my panties. I swallow hard. Lick my lips. Let my head fall back once again. His fingers slip inside the waistband of my underpants and the next thing I know, they are down around my ankles. And I'm naked in a public space. There should be some sort of law against this. Oh yeah, there is.
My hand tangles in his hair as he takes his mouth to me. I have to bite on my lip to keep from screaming. Oh God, he's just way too good at this. His tongue is doing things to me that feel too good to be natural. My hips thrust forward on the bench, pushing toward him, giving him greater access, which he immediately takes advantage of. Something about the situation … the naughtiness of it all … has me even more hot and bothered than usual. He's driving me wild, and I'm going completely out of my head.
"Oh, John," I whisper as he increases he tempo. He's got a good little rhythm going here and it's not going to take much more at all. Oh, yeah … that's nice. That's really nice. Oh … I sigh in pleasure. This is much too good to be true.
"Abby?" Shit! We freeze. Dammit, I knew it was too good to be true. I push Carter away from me, scramble to pull up my panties, and then start frantically searching for my other clothes.
"Abby? Are you in here?" I hear Maggie calling. Of course, I'm not really in a position to answer her just yet. I need a minute here. Dammit! Goddamn it! Okay, calm down now … deal with the sexual frustration later.
"Is she in here?" I hear Eric ask.
"I don't know. This is where John to said to meet them, but I don't see either of them anywhere."
"Then she must be in here. Maybe sound doesn't travel well in here. Abby?" He bellows. "I don't really want to have to see you in your underwear, so get dressed … I'm coming in."
"Oh, Eric, for God's sake," Maggie says. By now, I'm doing a frantic pantomime to Carter. I've found my purse and pulled out wet wipe left over from last week's barbeque restaurant adventure. He looks perplexed as to why I'm handing it to him, so I do a little charade to help him out. He seems to finally get it and cleans himself up. Meanwhile, I'm still scrambling around to sort my clothes from the new underwear … I guess I'll be buying it all since this is no time to stop and sort.
"Abby?" My mother yells at the top of her lungs.
"Mom?" I manage to squeak out. "I'm here. Just … give me a minute."
"Abby? You're here? What are you doing?"
"I … uh … I'm …getting dressed." True enough.
"Oh. Okay. Why didn't you say so?"
"Uh …"
"Never mind. Do you know where John went?" I give Carter a wide-eyed look. I can't very well claim he's not in here … what are we gonna do? Search the mall for an hour while he hides out in the dressing room and later pretends to have been somewhere else? He gives me a shrug.
"Yeah. He's in here."
"Oh."
"In there, huh Ab? In where exactly?"
"Eric!" Mom admonishes him.
"In the dressing room." Yeah, that's it … just play it like that. "He was just … helping me out with something."
"Yeah, I'll bet." Eric calls.
I finally get my clothes back on and all the underwear gathered up and head out the door. I won't look in the mirror. I don't need to know how red my cheeks are.
"Kinky." Eric comments as I walk past him.
"Abby …" Mom's saying.
"She just needed my help," Carter explains. "I was giving her my opinion."
"Oh, I'll bet you were giving her something … I doubt it was your opinion."
"Eric, shut up!" I hiss.
"I had no idea my sister was such a superfreak. Or that those dressing rooms were so big."
"Dammit, Eric! Stop it!"
"Whoa, calm down. I was just kidding around. No need to freak out."
I head straight to the register, dumping my purchases on the counter. I'm no longer happy Abby from the dressing room. Now I'm slightly embarrassed, extremely frustrated Abby. I definitely need ice cream. Or a big lunch. Both. Among other things. But the ice cream and big lunch I can have in front of Maggie and Eric. The other things will have to wait. Of course, Carter is so red that he looks like a boiled a lobster so it'll probably take some convincing to get him to try again.
"Oh, there's no tag on this one," the saleslady says. Uh, yeah. Probably because it's the bra I wore in here.
"Uh … oops … I think I must have on the wrong one."
"Oh, yeah. Happens more often than you might think. Do you want to go change?" And return to the scene of the 'crime?' I look around … there's still no one here.
"Maybe I can just take off the tag … do you have any scissors?"
"Oh, not necessary. I have a long cord," she says. And she pulls out her little scanning wand, leans across the counter, pushes my shirt out of the way and scan the tag which is thankfully on my shoulder. I wonder if anyone else would like to stick their hand in my shirt today. God, I almost feel like I'm at work. But what seems really weird is that no one else seems to think this is odd. As I take my bag and turn around, I spot something else that seems weird to me.
My brother. Sitting on a bench outside the store. Next to a five-foot-tall teddy bear. He catches my eye and waves with a big grin.
"John Truman Carter! What did you do?"
"What?" Carter asks, all wide-eyed innocence.
I drag him out into the mall and over to the bench where Eric sits.
"That!" I say, pointing to the bear.
"Oh, that."
"I told you 'no,'" I say.
"But I wanted it, Abby. For the baby. It was on sale." He says, as if that makes a difference.
"What the hell are we supposed to do with it? I mean, we can't just drag it around the mall all day, not to mention where we're gonna put it once we get home."
"I can take it out to the car now. We don't have to drag it around the mall."
"Oh no you don't," Eric says. "I want to take it on the roller coaster."
"Tell me you're kidding," I say to him.
"Hey, it's not every day that a guy gets a chance to take a giant teddy bear on a roller coaster."
"I give up," I say. "Crazy. You're all crazy."
"Yeah, Abby," Eric says, "Some of us are even certifiable."
"Ah!" I screech, tossing my hands over my head, "You know what I mean. You're all … weird."
"Where are you going, Ab?" John calls.
"I'm hungry! I'm going to lunch!" I say as I march toward a nearby restaurant.
"Abby …" Maggie catches up to me.
"Abby, wait a minute. What are we supposed to do with …" Carter calls.
"That ridiculously big stuffed toy you insisted on buying? That's your problem." I turn and walk into the restaurant. Maggie, Carter and Eric are right behind me. With the bear in tow.
"What are you doing?" I ask, laughing in spite of myself.
"Guess who's coming to lunch, Abby," Eric says.
"We're not eating lunch with that thing. My God, it would need its own seat."
"Oh, well," Carter says.
"John, I thought you were taking it out to the car."
"I changed my mind. I wouldn't want to miss lunch," Carter says.
"Besides, I kinda like it," Eric tells me. "Too bad it's not a monkey. Then I'd have a monkey on my back. A bear on my back doesn't have quite the same ring." Sure enough, he's walking around with the bear slung over his back.
"Lunatics," I mutter under my breath.
"How many?" the hostess asks. How many lunatics? Yeah, all of us, I guess.
"Four," I tell her, "And a bear." I say, giving the guys a look.
"Excuse me?" she asks, looking up. Eric waves one of the bear's paws at her.
"Oh." She just looks momentarily confused before leading us to a nice big corner booth. Big enough for all five of us. The bear gets stuck in the middle between Eric and me. I feel ridiculous. Once the waitress has come to take our order and left again, I look around the table … mainly at the giant bear that's seated next to me.
"This is absurd."
"Oh, Abby," my mom says, "It's just a bear."
"You don't find it embarrassing?"
"Oh, that's funny, Abby," Eric says, "Coming from someone who was doing it in a dressing room."
"We weren't doing it." I tell him.
"Whatever."
"Ugh," I say, giving him an exasperated look. I can't exactly argue too much about this one. And then I turn to Carter. "I gotta pee. Let me out." I say, giving him a shove that sends him stumbling out of the booth.
I hide out in the ladies' room for a few minutes. Then, figuring my reprieve should probably come to an end; I open the door and find John standing in the hall.
"Hey, you okay?"
"No. I'm cranky. I'm hungry. I'm frustrated …"
"About the bear?"
"No. About what almost happened, but didn't quite happen, in that dressing room. I'm all … worked up and have no … outlet for it."
"Sorry."
"You should be. You started it."
"What can I do to make up for it?"
"Well …" I say, throwing a look over my shoulder, "The bathroom's empty."
"Abby …"
"Oh come on … dressing room, bathroom …" I grab the front of his shirt, pulling him with me as I back into the bathroom and drag him into the stall.
"I don't know about this …" I push him back against the wall and stand up on tiptoe to kiss him. His arms wrap around my waist, and he pulls me closer to him.
"Mmm …" I laugh, "I knew I could convince you." I give him a big smile. And reach out to pull his shirt loose from his pants and slide my hands under it, running them over his chest.
"Abby, you know I can't ever resist you."
"Yes, but you can never listen to me, either."
"Is this about the bear? Look I'm sorry about that, I --"
"John?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up and kiss me." He leans forward and captures my lips.
"See, I listened," he mumbles around the kiss.
"Uh-huh," I answer as his hands run up my back.
"You're still wearing my favorite bra, aren't you?" he asks, referring the particular scrap of black lace that started it all in that dressing room. What else would I have done with it?
I pull back a little bit and nod at him, starting to unbutton my shirt. His head falls forward to my neck, his lips following in the wake of my hands. I sigh happily.
"Abby!" Shit! Not again.
"Goddamn, does she have some kind of sex radar?" I mumble into Carter's ear.
"I know you're in here. I can see your feet." She walks over and bangs loudly on the stall door. "Now cut it out, you two! Jesus, don't you ever stop? Put your clothes back on and get back to the table. Lunch is here." She turns on her heel and walks back out the door.
"I think we're in trouble," he says, putting himself back together.
"I guess we better get out there, huh?" I admit, reluctantly.
"Yeah, guess so."
We head out of the bathroom like a couple of kids being sent to the principal's office after getting caught smoking in the bathroom. And wouldn't you know? Maggie's waiting for us in the hall.
"What's wrong with you two?" she asks.
"Hey, I'm pregnant. All these hormones … I can't help it," I say.
"What's your excuse?" she asks, turning to Carter.
"Uh …"
"I made him do it. It's all my fault. I am a nymphomaniac, you know. If I don't get some every five minutes, I just go berserk." I say in a stage whisper as we walk down the hall.
"Oh, Abby … you know I don't think that. But really … a public bathroom?" I just shrug. We end up giggling. Carter blushes. Again.
"Oh, my God." I start laughing the minute we walk back into the main dining room. Because that's when I catch Eric engaged in what appears to be a very funny conversation with his new best friend -- a stuffed bear. "Enjoying your date?" I ask as I sit down.
"Yes, thank you. Did you enjoy your sex?"
"No."
"Sorry to hear that."
"I mean … there was no sex. It didn't get that far."
"Mom's still walking in on you, huh? Just like that time with … what was his name? Your 'lab partner?'"
"Shut up and eat, Eric."
"Your lab partner?" Carter asks.
"I'll tell you about it later."
"Promise?"
"Promise," I say, reaching over to squeeze his knee under the table.
The rest of lunch goes smoothly with me rubbing Carter's leg under the table, him returning the favor, my mom giving us suspicious looks, and Eric talking to his bear. I'm not sure we'll be able to get it away from him to give it to the baby. Of course, I know that he's hamming it up for effect. The rest of restaurant doesn't know that, but I guess it doesn't bother my goofy baby brother. But his goofiness makes him … endearing. I certainly prefer it to moody and depressed. As long as he's not too goofy. But I'm pretty sure this is baseline for him. He's always been a little bit wacky. And willing to do just about anything for a laugh. Even talk to a practically life-sized bear in public.
After lunch, Eric offers to take the bear out to the car. Frankly, I think he just wants to have some alone time with the thing … which is kind of a scary thought. But while he takes off with the bear, Mom and John and I head off to look for some new clothes for me. Or so they tell me.
It doesn't take long for me to get an armload of clothing to try on. I move towards the dressing room, but when Carter tries to follow, I hear Maggie's voice.
"Uhn-uh. Not you. You stay here. Things happen when you two are alone in a … cubicle together."
"Mom …"
"No arguing, Abby. You're gonna be busy trying on clothes, not busy getting busy."
"Getting busy? I think you're watching too much MTV too, Mom."
"Never mind. Just get in there." She pushes me into the dressing room, turning around to Carter. I look over my shoulder just as I hear her say to him, "You, sit," as she points him toward a chair just outside the dressing area. Probably a good idea to park him in one place. Otherwise, who knows what he might buy?
What seems like hours later, my mom has advised me, instructed me, and dressed me up like a her own personal Barbie doll. And I've got a whole new wardrobe that might actually last me through the rest of the pregnancy. It wasn't even that painful. Huh. Who knew?
"So what do you want to do now?" Mom asks, after my selections are paid for, and we are heading back into the mall once again.
"We should probably find Eric," I say.
"Well, I told him to meet us here … and oh, there he is." She waves and heads over to him. John starts to follow, but I put my hand on his arm.
"I really need to spend some time alone with you."
"Yeah, but Abby..."
"No, you don't understand," I say, quietly, "Thanks to this pregnancy, I have all this … blood rushing to certain places, and the more I walk around … and with all these hormones running rampant … I can't take it anymore."
"Well after our little … escapades earlier, I'm feeling the same way."
"So you know what I'm saying … we have to find a way to ditch them. Just for a little while."
"About five minutes ought to do it at this point," he says.
"I've got an idea," I tell him. "I want to go to the aquarium," I announce.
"Ugh," Eric says, "Fish. That's boring, Ab. It's nothing but a bunch of fish. It's like staring at a million goldfish bowls."
"You don't have to go. Maybe we could split up and meet a little later."
"Well, I did want to check out that craft fair. Do you wanna go with me, Eric?" Mom asks.
"Crafts? That's even more boring than fish."
"It's near Camp Snoopy," she says, referring to the indoor amusement park. "You can ride the roller coaster."
"Well, why didn't you say so?"
We make plans to meet later and they head off in one direction while John and I head in the other direction. Alone -- finally! We stash our bags in some storage lockers conveniently located just down the hall from the aquarium entrance. And then we descend, hand-in-hand, down the escalator into the dark depths of the mall where the aquarium is located.
We get our tickets and make a good show of wandering around looking at the various displays. Luckily, it's getting late in the afternoon and it must be naptime for small children and old ladies, so the place isn't too busy. But it is definitely dark. Just what we wanted. While Carter reads aloud the various factoids about the sea life that we are admiring, I just keep finding ways to touch him. My hand on his arm, running through his hair, squeezing his thigh, pinching his butt, tracing a pattern on his chest … We check out the exhibits, but we also keep our eyes open for dark, secluded spots. Part of me can't believe I'm even contemplating this. Another part of me just can't wait for it to happen already. And I'm blaming it all on raging hormones. Yep, that's gotta be it.
Finally, we come to a darkened alcove. Apparently, they are changing out the exhibits here. Or they've managed to kill everything that should be on display. Whatever, it works out perfectly for our purposes. We slip into the shadows and walk all the way to the end of this little nook. The aquarium is meant to look like a series of coves and underwater caves with curving, bumpy walls … so there are plenty of indentations along the way. We slip into one that affords us even more cover from the flow of traffic down the main corridor.
Immediately, we fall into each other's arms.
"It's about time," I say.
"You can say that again."
"It's about time."
"Abby?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
I eagerly oblige, kissing him passionately. While our lips are locked together, we begin furiously pulling at each other's clothing.
"God, if I'd have known," I say, in between kisses, "I would have worn a dress."
"Do you own a dress?" He asks.
"One or two."
"That you would wear to the mall?"
"Doesn't everyone wear Prada to the mall?"
"Sure. But Abby … do you really want to talk?"
"No, I'd really rather not talk." I say, as his hand slips under my shirt to feel me up over my newly purchased bra. "But we better make this quick."
"Believe me, I can do that."
He leans his head down to kiss me once again. Then his hands are at the waistband of my pants, slipping them down over my hips. I reach for the waistband of his pants, carefully unzipping his fly and releasing his throbbing manhood. He lifts me up quickly, his hands on my waist. I wrap my legs around him, and then I snake my hand in between us and pull the damp crotch of my underpants to one side. I'm beginning to see the wisdom of those crotchless panties now. But I guess this will work just fine. And I'm about to find out.
With my back against one of the rough the walls, he pushes into me desperately. We both sigh in relief and pleasure. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he buries his head in my neck. He moves quietly, steadily, and quickly in and out of me, bouncing me slightly against the wall with each thrust. It feels so good to finally have him this close to me, exactly where I've wanted him -- needed him -- all day. It feels so good; I can't help but moan in his ear. He moves even faster in response. Strong, purposeful movements so that I feel each stroke as much as possible. The incredible, seemingly-permanent arousal that I've been feeling all day is starting to build to a crescendo within me.
"Uhn," I moan, as I toss my head back and forth while he pushes deeper. Oh, yes … oh … here we go … close, so close … yes … yes … oh, yes! I hit that peak and the waves of pleasure wash over me. John's grunting in my ear as he hits his own peak, and I can feel the heat of it inside of me. For a little while, all we can do is hold onto to one another tightly, trying to return to reality.
"Oh … wow," I finally say, with a laugh. "That was … something."
"Yeah. Yeah, it was." He pulls out of me, moves away from me slightly, and carefully sets me back down on the ground. I reach down for my pants and quickly slip them on while he zips up. For a long moment we just stand there, each of us leaning back against opposite walls, grinning at each other. I don't know whether he's the first to laugh, or if I am. But before I know it, we're a fit of giggles. Finally, he reaches out an arm to me, wrapping it around my shoulder as I press close against his side and wrap my own arm around him. That's how we are as we sneak out of own personal … nooky nook. We rejoin the other couples, families, and children walking around among the exhibits.
"You know," I say my eyes on a young couple pushing a stroller through the aquarium in front of us, "I think our next trip here might be … slightly different."
"Huh?" He says, probably not really paying attention.
"That's us in a year," I tell him, gesturing to the young family. He nods in recognition.
"And that's us in five years," he says, pointing out a family with four … no five little children.
"Yeah, in your dreams maybe."
"I'd watch what you say, Abby … you never know."
"And I'd watch what you wish for."
"Why? It's worked out pretty well so far. I wished for you … I wished for you to have my baby …"
"Really? You wished for me to have your baby?"
"Yeah. Of course. This is what I always I wanted. That's what I always wanted," he tells me, nodding to the little family in front of us.
"Yeah, but you want that too, don't you?" I ask, looking at the decidedly larger family up ahead.
"Well," he says, with a grin, "Maybe. But all in good time. Nothing we have to worry about now."
"Okay, I won't dash you dreams of an absurdly big family just yet. But I thought we decided on three."
"Well, that's a good start."
"One at a time, okay?"
"No twins? Well, you'll have to talk to your ovaries about that one. I can't help what goes on in there, you know."
I roll my eyes at him. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"Yeah, but you love me anyway."
"Yeah."
"And you, Abby … you get me to do things that I never could have imagined."
"Such as?"
"Uh … need I remind you of what we doing in here not ten minutes ago?"
"Oh, yeah," I say.
We walk on in a comfortable silence, arms wrapped around each other.
"Hey, I think it's time we go find the rest of our family," John says after a little while.
"What?"
"Maggie and Eric? They're probably waiting for us by now, don't you think?"
"Oh. Yeah. But … did you say … our family?"
"Yeah, sure. What yours is mine and what's mine is yours, right?"
"Yeah, right."
I guess I hadn't thought about it like that. But he's right, I suppose. We are all one big, happy family now. Especially with this baby, who means so much to all of us, on the way. So we'll go find my -- our family. And we'll all stuff ourselves into a tiny Jeep with a giant bear. And we'll go back to my mother's and order pizza for dinner and eat popcorn and leftover cake while we sit around watching stupid movies. And tomorrow we'll get up and have a giant, family brunch where there's bound to be arguing, spilling, and, possibly, assaults with jars of syrup. After the mess has been cleaned up and our belongings have been packed up, Maggie will send John and me off with tears in her eyes, asking us to come back soon. Eric will tell a bad joke or make some inappropriate comment. I'll be stuck in the back seat so that the enormous teddy bear that my crazy husband bought our unborn baby can ride shotgun. So we're not perfect … so what?
"At least we're not boring," I say.
"What?"
"At least the baby won't be growing up in a boring family."
"Abby," John laughs, "If there's one thing this family could never be … it's boring."
"John?"
"Yeah?"
"Is this what a happy family feels like?"
"Yeah, Abby, I think so." He smiles at me, happy and content.
And in the end, what else really matters? If I can give my baby a happy family to be born into, what else will she … or he ever really need?