Everyday Peril
Chapter 7: For Whom This Hell Goes
~~~
Haha, Dreamwriter! I thought you'd enjoy that pun… Thanks, WishingStar. I'm glad you liked that… Thanks, Whitelighter, and you are not slow. That would probably be because I never said it anywhere. And it probably would have been a good idea to say it sometime at the beginning of the story… Sorry about that. I knew I forgot something…
~~~
It was one week later, and Sydney stood in front of the mirror, sighing. She was starting to
show, and although there was a part of her that was overjoyed at this, another
part of her shuddered at the thought of looking fat. It was only natural.
She glanced down at her pants and cringed. They were covered in wrinkles. And
it was already 5
o'clock. They had to leave in half
an hour if Hailey was going to get there on time. Sydney knew she would never hear the end of it if her daughter
were late to her preschool play. What would the three bears do without their
precious little Goldilocks?
Well, she did have half an hour. The kids were almost ready, and Michael should
be home any minute. Okay, he should have been home any minute for about an hour
now, but she knew that he would show up eventually; he always did. Sydney went into the laundry room and plugged in the iron, taking
off her pants as she waited for it to heat up. She ran the iron over them a few
times, impatiently trying to get the stubborn wrinkles out of the cloth even
before the iron had come fully up to temperature.
"Do you have any idea how incredibly sexy you look doing that?" Michael was
standing in the doorway, one hand on the frame, the
other hidden behind his back. He was still in his work clothes, tie loosened
and the top buttons on his shirt undone.
"Ironing?" Sydney asked with a laugh. It definitely had to be one of the
least sexy chores she could think of. Well, she couldn't think of any chores
that were sexy, but ironing was definitely one of the most boring and time
consuming.
"Syd, you'd look sexy sorting through garbage as long
as you didn't have pants on," he pointed out, coming into the room and closing
the door behind him.
She opened her mouth to counter this point, but he shot her down before she
could even get the words out. "You do not look fat. You are beautiful."
"I am pregnant, Michael. You can't tell me I'm not fat. I'll know it's a lie
this time."
"Syd, you're just beginning to show, and even with
the twins, you didn't get that big. We have small kids. So, you're just going
to have to come to terms with the fact that you're not fat," he teased, coming
closer to her. "I love seeing you like this. You're glowing."
"Thanks," she answered with a smile, quickly changing the subject. "Thank God
you're home. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten."
"You're welcome," he replied. "It's true. And of course I didn't forget." He
kept his left hand behind his back as he advanced, leaning across the ironing
board and kissing her soundly. "Happy anniversary, baby," he murmured, pulling
a dozen roses out from behind him.
"Michael, they're gorgeous!" Sydney exclaimed, laying down her iron to bring the flowers close
to her nose, taking in their sweet scent.
"Almost as gorgeous as you," he responded, smiling at her. "And
this."
"What? You didn't need to get…" She always told him that he didn't need
to get her anything for their anniversary, having him around was enough. And he
always disobeyed. But it was a two-way street; she never followed her own rule,
ever ready with something for him as well.
"Close your eyes."
Sydney obeyed, tingling with anticipation as she heard him walk
around the ironing board. He spun her around and she gasped in surprise. Before
she had a chance to take another breath, his lips were on hers, stealing the
air from her lungs. She let him have it without argument, pulling him closer as
his fingers danced along the back of her neck.
"There," Michael stated, pulling away. "How do you like it?"
"You know I love it when you kiss me like that, Michael," she answered
breathlessly, eyes still half-closed. "You don't have to ask."
He smiled, shifting his gaze from her eyes to her neck. She brought her hand to
her throat, feeling the delicate chain around her neck. A glance down rewarded
her with the sight of two golden angels resting perfectly above the v-neck of
her tank top.
"Oh, Michael! You didn't…"
"I had to. I was in the jewelry store the other day…"
"Because you always just happen to be in jewelry stores," she interrupted him,
grinning.
"That's right," he answered, giving her that smile that could melt her faster
than ice melted on a hot summer's day. "And it was perfect. You called me your
guardian angel before, Syd. And you're mine too, so…"
He gestured towards the necklace, unable to find any other words to explain
himself.
"I love it. I love you." She stole his lips for one more
quick kiss. "Now, you better go…"
"What do you say we surprise my mother and drop the kids off at her house," he
interrupted, placing his fingers on her lips to silence her. "She won't mind
taking them for a few hours. Or overnight…"
"Oh, sweetie." She ran her thumb over his cheek,
smiling at him sympathetically. "You did forget."
"Forget what?" He asked slowly, his forehead wrinkling with confusion and
concern. He wrapped his arms around her neck, bringing his face close to hers.
"You're Sydney, I'm Michael. Seven years ago today, we were married,
although I loved you long before that…"
"Michael, honey," Sydney began, giving him a sweet smile. "Hailey's preschool play
is tonight. She's Goldilocks, remember?" She didn't know how he could have
forgotten. The little girl didn't have any lines, her teachers were reading the
stories and the children were acting them out, but Hailey had been going over
what she had to do for days, telling them the fairy tale countless times.
"Dammit!" Michael hissed, leaning his forehead on her own.
"I'm sorry, baby," Sydney murmured, knowing that he wanted to see the play, but
wished it hadn't been that night. "We can celebrate tonight."
"Tonight?" he whined. "Syd, I've been thinking about
you all day. There is no way in hell I can make it through her play and the
damn potluck supper afterwards with you right beside me…"
"Mike?" Sometimes this man was worse than the kids.
"…and I don't think Hailey's teacher or all the parents there will appreciate
if…"
"Mike!" The word was almost shouted, but she was still smiling, her voice
automatically softening after she caught his attention. "You sound like you're
the four-year-old…"
"Trust me, Syd," he interrupted, bringing his body
closer to hers. "I am not four. Just give me five minutes."
"Now you sound like Eric," she laughed, and he wished she wouldn't. Her
laughter was making it worse. He could never resist it.
"No, this is different," he said seriously, "Eric never got his five minutes, and
I fully intend on getting mine. Besides, you already have your pants off, it
won't even take that long."
"Michael," Sydney began, speaking slowly as if he were indeed four-years-old,
"you want to have quick sex, in the laundry room, when three kids all under the
age of five could walk in at any time, and we have to be out of the house in
twenty minutes?"
"Yes," he answered simply. And at her look of disbelief, added, "It'll be more
of a challenge. Add some excitement."
"Michael, in a matter of months, we're going to have four kids. I think trying
to do anything without any of them bothering us will be excitement and
challenge enough."
"Please, baby," he begged, his hands already roaming all over her skin. "I've
been sitting in my office all day… It can be my anniversary present."
"I got you a present," Sydney murmured through gritted teeth, trying desperately not to
give in to his touch. "It… It's in the bedroom. I'll give it to you tonight."
"Take it back. I don't want it." Damn, the man could be stubborn. And not
wanting a present? This was serious…
"You don't even know what it is."
"I don't care. I want you… I want this more." Oh, shit. He was giving her the
puppy dog eyes. He knew she would always give in to them, without a doubt. Must…
avoid… eye… contact…
"Michael…" It was too late.
His lips were on her neck and suddenly she couldn't remember a single reason
why they shouldn't do this. There had to be one. She could think of a dozen of
them just three seconds ago. Because… Wasn't it… Something
about… Damn. It was hopeless…
The door flew open just as Michael claimed his wife's lips once again. Their
little girl stuck her head in the door and they quickly broke apart. Michael
frowned and Sydney went busily back to ironing.
"Daddy! You're home!"
And as Sydney regained her breath, she remembered. Reason number one had
just walked in the door and flung her arms around her father.
"I thought you forgetted, but Mommy telled me you would never ever ever
forget something so important like my play." She peered up at him, eyes full of
trust and love.
"I…" Michael began, but Sydney quickly shook her head. Why shatter her perfect image of
her father over something so trivial? "… would never
forget, angel." He scooped his daughter up, kissing her. "I can't wait to see
you!"
"I'm good, Daddy! Even mean old Alec said so!" She left out the part
about "mean old Alec" telling her she "sucked worse than his father," and how
he only grumblingly admitted she was good after being forced to by the teacher.
But Michael knew that part of the story already. Hailey's teacher had relayed
it to Sydney, apologetically telling her that Alec came from what could
be considered a less than perfect family life, and had picked up all kinds of
vulgar language from his mother and her current boyfriend. Fortunately, Hailey
hadn't asked any questions about what the boy had said, and Michael and Sydney
decided that it was best left alone.
"I'm sure you are, sweetie," Michael responded. "And you're just as beautiful
as your mother."
"Mommy…" Hailey began excitedly, but she stopped and her face became
horrorstricken when she turned and faced her mother. "Daddy's a boy," she
whispered loudly, cupping her hands around her mouth and leaning forward. "You
can't let boys see you when you don't have pants on!"
"I'm ironing them, Hailey," Sydney
responded, fighting to hold back the laughter. "I'll put them back on as soon
as I'm done."
"But Daddy's seeing you now!" Hailey yelped, as if this were the worst news in
the world. Was she in for a big surprise a little later in life.
"It's like that time when you sleeped
and didn't know that…"
"Okay! Hailey!" Michael exclaimed, not wishing to
relive the mortification of this story. Seeing Jack's face when it had happened
had been punishment enough; he didn't need to picture it again. He put his
daughter down, gently pushing her towards the door. "You go finish getting
ready."
"I'm all ready!" She sang, but then glancing down at her bare feet. "I just
need my shoes."
"Okay, well…"
"But I don't wanna put them on til
it's just exactly time to go," she interrupted, wiggling her toes.
His attempts to nicely kick his daughter out of the room were failing
miserably. "I have to go get the twins ready in a minute. Are they in their
room?"
"Yep," the little girl nodded. "With the gate up.
Maybe you'll need to ask Mommy to help you get in."
"Why don't you go check on them?" It was his last chance.
"Okay! I'll go make sure they're still alive!" With that, she left the room,
slamming the door behind her.
Michael turned to his wife. Her eyes were dancing as she turned off the iron,
and she looked ready to explode. "Don't even laugh."
But his command came too late, and her laughter bubbled forth, frolicking to
his ears. His lips curved upward as it consumed him, and he silenced her the
best way he knew how.
But she wriggled out of his grasp, grabbing her pants from the ironing board
and skirting around him, keeping well out of reach. "We have to go, Michael,"
she stated, pulling on her pants.
"But…" he tried, using the fact that the act of putting on pants hampered her
movement to his advantage as he caught her arm. "She's gone!"
She shook him off, holding him at arm's length. "She'll be back and you know
it. And we have to leave soon. Besides," she added, her eyes sparkling, "my
father already knows all about how we both saw your penis. He doesn't really
need his granddaughter to tell him that she saw Daddy's penis inside Mommy…"
"Syd!"
"I mean it, Michael." She was still grinning, but he knew he had lost
the battle. She would make up for it later. He planned on putting the kids to
bed the moment they got home, whether it was actually dark out or not.
"Come on, little boy," she teased, smiling at his crestfallen face. "Mommy will
come help you open the gate, we'll get the twins, and then we'll go."
They started off towards the twins' room, hand in hand, but Hailey almost ran
into them on their way there. "Whoa there!" Michael
exclaimed, stopping her from ramming into them at full force. "Where are you…?"
"I'm sorry…" Hailey looked up at them sadly, her bottom lip quivering. "I was
trying to help."
Michael turned her around, and they kept walking. "Hailey, what happ…oh…"
"Oh shi-oot…" Sydney cried, luckily catching herself before having to explain
why she had used that "naughty word" once again.
The twins were standing next to the gate, drenched in some substance, which he
was hoping was water. One look at the big, plastic cup lying accusingly on the
ground nearby, however, and a quick whiff of the air named their mysterious
liquid. Milk.
"Hailey," Michael began, slowly this time, "What happened?"
The little girl looked down at her still bare feet, her toes squirming, and
miserably relayed the story, full of so much guilt and sorrow that there was no
way they could even think about being angry. "Jonny
wanted some milk. I wanted to show you that I'm a good helper for when the new
baby comes."
"I'm glad you want to help, sweetie," Michael said, tilting her chin up to look
at him. "But next time, get me or Mommy to help you. The twins need the cups
with the tops on them."
"Okay, Daddy. I'm sorry."
"It's all right," Michael answered, running a hand through her hair. "Now, go
get your shoes on."
She left and Sydney turned to face him. "Michael they are absolutely covered.
And it's milk, too. They're going to need a bath, and we have to leave…" She
quickly glanced at her watch. "… in three minutes."
"You go ahead and take Hailey," Michael offered. "I'll stay here and clean up
these two, and we'll meet you there. How's that sound?"
She looked relieved that he had found a quick solution. "You don't mind
cleaning them up?"
"Of course not. Unless you'd rather…?" He gestured
towards the mess and smiled, putting the offer out there, but fully intending
to do it himself. He would have to work quickly to get the twins cleaned,
dressed, and to the building that housed both their daycare and Hailey's
preschool before the play started. Sydney didn't need to deal with the stress of that right now.
"Thank you. You're a lifesaver." Her eyes flashed with desire, so quickly that
he thought his own eyes had tricked him. "I'll pay you back later," she
murmured.
He grinned. "I was counting on it. I hope you're up to the challenge."
"I'm ready!" Hailey chirped, suddenly appearing before them, as cheerful as
ever.
"Okay," Sydney answered, taking her hand. "Let's go, little girl. Daddy
and William and Jonny are going to meet us there."
"Bye, Daddy! Bye William! Bye Jonny!" Hailey bounced
up and down with each name, waving excitedly, and ready to head out the door
and to her fifteen minutes of fame.
"Bye, angel." Michael bent down and kissed the top of
her head. "Good luck." He leaned over and kissed Sydney softly. "Goodbye, gorgeous."
They walked to the car and Sydney buckled Hailey into her seat. They had been on the road
for only a minute, when Hailey began chattering. "Mommy, does the new baby know
where we're going?"
"I don't think so, sweetie," Sydney answered, smiling to herself. "The baby's sleeping inside
my tummy, remember?"
"Oh," the little girl answered, frowning. "It's not gonna
see my play?"
"Probably not, Hailey. But you can tell the baby all
about it after it's born."
"Okay," she agreed. And then, without missing a beat, "Is the new baby gonna have a penis like Daddy?"
This time, Sydney couldn't help but laugh. "If it's a boy it will."
"Like William and Jonny," Hailey stated
matter-of-factly, proud that she could relay this information.
"That's right." Sydney wondered what Michael would say if his daughter posed this
question to him, and if William and Jonny would ask a
similar one when they were older.
"And if it's a girl, it won't have one?" Hailey asked,
needing to be completely sure she understood every single aspect of this
subject.
"Nope," Sydney answered, wishing she could record this conversation to
play back later, when her little girl wasn't so willing to have such open
discussions with her mother.
Satisfied with this answer, Hailey switched topics immediately, as if what she
had to say next was the logical following of her previous question. "How come
Daddy was so sad when you kissed him?"
Well… "Because I didn't get a chance to give him his
anniversary present." It was true no matter which way you looked at it, and a safe enough answer for a four-year-old.
"Oh," Hailey answered thoughtfully. "I thinked it was
'cause maybe he didn't like the way you kissed him."
"No, I think he liked it," Sydney answered distractedly. Even for the relatively short drive
to the preschool, the traffic was unbearable. "I mean…"
But Hailey interrupted her, saving her mother from trying to explain away her
response. "When I go to Rory's house," she said, speaking of her best friend
from preschool, "her parents don't kiss at all. And sometimes I'm even there
for three or seven hours, and no kissing!" The little girl threw her arms up in
the air, amazed that this was even possible.
"Your Daddy and I love each other very much." It was
the best answer she could give; the only one her daughter would truly
understand, and the only one that really made any sense.
"Does Rory's Daddy and Mommy not love each other?"
Hailey asked, her forehead wrinkling with concern just
as her father's had earlier.
"I'm sure they do, sweetie," Sydney answered, not sure what else to add. "Maybe they just…"
"Don't like to kiss?" Hailey finished for her.
Well, if it would satisfy the little girl's curiosity, it was a good enough
answer for now. "Maybe." They were stopped at a red
light, and Sydney met her daughter's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Someday
when you're older, Daddy and I will tell you a story about why we love each
other so much. You're too little for it now."
Hailey considered this, and didn't argue, still young enough to be satisfied
with whatever her mother told her and not to question it much. The light
changed to green, and Sydney turned her attention back to the road.
"The story," Hailey began. "Is that why if you're not home yet and you're
'posed to be, Daddy gets scared and…"
Screeching breaks. Metal screaming on metal, crunching,
chewing, gnashing against it; playing out slowly, forever, reverberating in her
ears. A sickening song, a never-ending symphony, not
stopping, even for a second. Tires ripping across
asphalt, burning rubber scorching her nostrils, the fumes seeming to creep
straight down to her stomach, nauseating her.
Hearing and smell were the only senses; the reek of exhaust and oil, her little
girl's screams piercing her ears, worse than anything she had ever had to
listen to, the most horrible form of torture imaginable. Sight virtually
nonexistent; she still didn't know exactly what happened, never saw that car
race down the street, barreling straight through the red light and into the
intersection.
But touch was quickly beginning to catch up, eager to have its way with her
after being left out of the initial reaction, leaving her nerve ends tingling,
shrieking with the excruciating pain. The motion of the car lurching
her side to side, slamming her head against the glass of the window, shattering
it to the ground. The sound of glass raining down adding to
the cacophonous harmony.
Metal, glass, shouting, tires, and tears; the main sections in the orchestra of
misery and terror. Its jarring notes increasing to a fever
pitch, drowning out everything except her throbbing body in a veritable swirl
of pain and panic, before suddenly receding. The quick burst of light,
the sudden metallic taste of blood, the ear-splitting noise, the sickening
scents, the blinding pain, all washed away. Withering
to silence, blackness, numbness. Nothing.
