Disclaimer: The talented Steven King owns Secret Window and all that goes with it.

AN: This chapter has a rated R scene (which is clearly labeled) so feel free to skip the marked part if it disturbs you.

Chapter 4: The Passage of Time:

Amber's POV:

You know the expression "times flies when you're having fun?" For us, time didn't fly…it went by in a time warp. When you're caring for a baby, helping your husband with his next set of stories or books, and trying to keep your parents from ruining the lives of all you care about, time really seems to melt around you. I can't even believe it myself…

It's been six years since Mort took me from my home and brought me here to Tashmore Lake, and it has been the best six years of my life. Elizabeth is the most darling child, and at age 5, she is the most amazing little girl. Mort says she looks like me, but I have to remind him that I'm not the one with blond hair in the family. Yes, Elizabeth has blond hair, but they're more like highlights than anything else; other than that, she's brunette through and through, with a touch of red in her hair from me. An odd combination, but that's what makes her unique I suppose.

And she's so smart, so very smart for a child of 5, but what would you expect from the child of two writers? We've read to her since she was six months old, and now that she's reading on her own, she's obsessed with the written word. In fact, Mort's having trouble finding books for her to read, so he's taken to writing stories for her to read (when he's not too busy, of course). And she loves to paint…I told Mort that she might want to be a painter or an artist when she grows up, and he laughed, as though the idea were impossible. I rolled my eyes at him and kept my opinion of Lizzie's future to myself. Instead, I bought her paint sets, colored pencils, markers, and crayons of every imaginable color. As her mom, I think I'm entitled to spoil my little girl, aren't I?

Thanks to all of the visits to the cabin and getting away from our parents, Mike has been doing wonderfully. In fact, he's now living with us. Well, actually, he moved in four years ago, after he'd graduated from high school. He'd secretly packed up all of his clothes, shipped them out to us, and arrived on our front doorstep with a smile on his face, a suitcase in his hand, and a huge pile of boxes behind him. Mort and I had been angry at first, but Lizzie had been so excited to see her Uncle Mike that we decided to let him stay. Most of Mike's clothes are now stored in the guestroom of our New York City loft, and the rest were moved into the guestroom, which is now officially "Mike's Room." He was with us for a year before he applied to (and got accepted by) a very nice college in New York City. Now he spends a lot of time in the loft in the city and spends every single vacation here at the cabin, playing with Elizabeth and helping her with her "art projects." Sometimes he visits with his girlfriend, Kaitlyn, and we always have an amazing time together bonding as a family.

Of course, Mort and I have been busy, too. Mort publishes two books a year, and every time he does, there's an international tour of the world to promote it. Elizabeth and I had to skip the first few tours because I didn't want to take her on an airplane for a long amount of time, but when she turned 3, Mort and I took her on a tour of Europe to expose her to the cultures there. While we were touring Europe for the first time with her, Elizabeth had loved France so much that she actually began picking up the French language while we were there. We ended up hiring a French tutor for the remainder of the tour, and he had given me a list of books and video tapes for Elizabeth to read, watch, and learn from so that she'd always retain her learning. Sometimes we can't get her to stop speaking French, and had to pick it up just so we could understand her! Still, she speaks English as much as possible, especially when she knows Uncle Mike doesn't speak a word of French. After all, he would have a Hell of a time talking to her whenever he and Kaitlyn came over to visit us!

Anyway, back to Mort, who is now busy with another book that he claims was "inspired" by me. I always laugh every time he says that, but he always swears that it's true. Either way, it gets his mind going, and he only stops when he needs to be with me and Elizabeth (which is quite often). I can't figure out how he can write a whole book when he's spending so much time with us, but I suppose that's one of the perks of working at home, huh? Mort can mix work and family together and still be amazingly productive. I don't know how he does it, but I'm thankful he does…

Personally, I think the greatest thing about our life is that we all get to be together for huge amounts of time, especially when Mort has a world tour. In fact, Mort bought a couple of homes in Europe for us to visit whenever we need a "change in atmosphere." Even though we loved the cabin and keep it as our main home, we know that keeping Elizabeth isolated isn't good for her. After much discussion, we decided to take her to different places and have different tutors for her to learn from. Mort bought a cozy cottage in France so Elizabeth could use the language she'd been practicing, and so she could interact with others. We also had a small house in Italy that we visited in the winter, since New York got so much snow and I hate the cold. And, of course, we had our loft in New York to stay in whenever Elizabeth wanted to see her Uncle Mike when he was in school. My brother was always welcome to join us on our trips to Europe, and he (along with Kaitlyn) frequently spent his free time going with us on tour so he could 'experience the world.'

The only dark spot on our lives were the seasonal visits from my parents. To keep our joyful lives in the cabin separate from the terrors of my parents, Mort and I always arranged to spend the visits in our loft in New York so as to not have our cabin tainted by the horrors my parents inflicted upon us. As always, we had to keep two weeks open every summer and winter, because that's when my parents came. They always arrived on schedule twice a year: at the beginning of every summer and several days before every Christmas. Each time they came, the visits got worse. Every night they were here, (and sometimes after they'd left for the West Coast), Mort, Elizabeth, and I spent time comforting each other, soothing emotional wounds and basking in the love of one another before going to sleep. If Mike was there with us during a visit, he would join us in our group hugs and help choose movies and junk food for us to consume and watch so we could forget our troubles until the next day. If Mike brought Kaitlyn over, she'd crack jokes and tell hilarious stories until we were all laughing so hard we cried.

And yet, despite my parents only staying for a week or so and Mort and I being civilized to them during their stay, I could feel the tension in the air grow thicker with every visit. What was worse was that both of my parents had a special way of conveying their dislike and anger at people, mostly through glares, hurtful words, or whispered insults of a person behind their back. After my brother had moved in with us, he constantly got demands for him to return to the West Coast with my parents, but since he was over 18, he was legally an adult and could make his own choices. Sometimes Mike even brought Kaitlyn over while our parents were visiting, just to piss them off. It didn't help that my brother and I were both madly in love with people my parents despised, either. I obviously had Mort, but Mike's girlfriend was the complete opposite of what my parents wanted for him…

Kaitlyn was the epitome of the perfect rock chick, which is probably what attracted my brother to her (he loved people who were different in society, even though he was what we call 'normal'). If there was one celebrity that could sum her up, it was Amy Lee, the lead singer of Evanescence. She looked so much like Amy that at first I thought it was her, but since we watched a live televised Evanescence concert the same time she visited, I quickly gave up that idea. She was short, about 5'2, and had the most amazing black-and-blonde dyed stripped hair which complimented her pale skin and dark blue eyes. Whenever she visited, Kaitlyn never failed to wear her blue jeans, Converse All-Stars, her black leather bracelet with spikes, and a My Chemical Romance t-shirt. Her dark eye makeup, black nails, and bellybutton ring screamed Punk/Goth. Her sense of humor was fantastic, and she often brought her guitar to "rock out" with Elizabeth and to teach her some songs to sing and play. It was cute (yet odd) to see a rocker-chick teach a little girl cute music one minute, then play depressing rock songs the moment Elizabeth was out of the room. Oh, well, at least it exposed Lizzie to a musical instrument other than overturned pots and pans…

Today was a freezing cold December evening, was one of those get-togethers that we loved so much. Mike had brought Kaitlyn (and her black and silver guitar) to the cabin, and Elizabeth was begging for music. We were all curled up in our pajamas in front of the fireplace, drinking cider and eating warm snacks as Kaitlyn strummed her guitar, making the air relaxed and warm. My brother played a board game with Mort and Lizzie while I sat and toasted my feet in front of the fire, basking in the warmth of the moment. As the music from Kaitlyn's guitar faded, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Hey, Amber?" asked Kaitlyn. "It's that time of year again…what are you going to do this year with…you know…"

I sighed and sat up. We all knew what "that time of year" meant: the visit of my parents. Somehow, these visits had inspired Mort and I to come up with some sort of 'distraction' for my mom and dad while they were here. Year after year, visit after visit, Mort and I wracked our brains (as well as my brother's and, eventually, Kaitlyn's) for some way to get my parents off of our backs and onto something else. We'd taken them to musical concerts in Carnegie Hall, seen plays on Broadway, gone ice skating in Rockefeller Center, and walked around every mall and major shopping store in New York City. Hell, we even took them to the Zoo a dozen times, claiming that Elizabeth wanted to see the elephants! This visit was going to be a puzzle, though.

"I really don't know, Lyn," I said, turning around to watch Elizabeth tackle Mort to the ground because he 'cheated.'

"How about I come over and play guitar for them?" Kaitlyn suggested, grinning evilly. "That'll get them going!"

I laughed so hard I thought my lungs would collapse. Kaitlyn's idea of playing for my parents was like amplifying the sound of thousands of nails on thousands of chalkboards. In two words: painful torture. Even though she played well for us, I knew that she'd do her damnedest to destroy my parents' eardrums while trying to drive them away. After all, she'd actually met them and had been chewed out enough times to want to smash their eardrums (or given the chance, their heads).

"So should I take that as a 'no'?" she asked, strumming her guitar again. "It'll be fun, I promise."

I shook my head. "Sorry, Lyn, but I like my eardrums the way they are: safely intact within my head," I said, rolling my eyes. "And I really don't want Elizabeth to be deaf before her sixth birthday." And I doubt that Mort would like it, either

Kaitlyn sighed. "Well, the least I could do was offer," she said, fiddling with the pegs of her instrument. "The offer still stands if you want it, Sis."

I chuckled at the nickname she gave me. She knew that Mike called me "Sissy" when he was really concerned about me or wanted to make fun of me, and she, in turn, picked up the nickname to use as a term of affection for me. I expected that she used it because I called her Lyn and wanted something special to call me so that we'd be even, but I wasn't sure. Either way, I didn't mind her using it…it was kind of nice having her use it. It was like I had a new sister.

"What offer are you talking about?" Mort's voice murmured in my ear as he joined us by the fireplace.

His arms scooped me up and put me in his lap, which was his favorite spot to have me whenever we sat by the fire. Mort always claimed it was because it was romantic, but I think it was because he wanted me to "keep him warm" on cold nights after Lizzie was asleep. I turned my head to look up at him and give him a quick kiss, but that 'quick kiss' turned into a mind-blowing, tongue-in-mouth affair that had Kaitlyn giggling, Mike sighing, and Lizzie making gagging noises.

"Mommy, Daddy, that's icky!" Elizabeth cried, covering her eyes to block out the view.

I pulled away from Mort's lips, laughing at the antics of our daughter as Mort pouted at having our kiss interrupted. I kissed him on the cheek to make it up to him and unwrapped his arms from around my waist so I could stand up. Mort pouted even more, but I winked at him to signal that we'd continue later and he instantly stopped. Instead, he leaned back on his elbows and smirked at me, subtly telling me that he was feeling particularly frisky tonight.

I rolled my eyes and picked Elizabeth up. "Okay, Mommy and Daddy have stopped with the icky kissing, so now it's time for little girls to go to bed," I said, rubbing my nose against hers.

Elizabeth pouted, looking very much like her father. "But I'm not tired," she whined, brown eyes begging me to let her stay up.

I shook my head. "Nope, it's after nine o'clock, so that means it is bedtime," I said, looking at her sternly. If we stayed downstairs any longer, Mort would eventually give in and let her stay up, and the last thing we needed was for her to be cranky tomorrow because we let her stay up past her bedtime. I let her kiss her Uncle Mike, her 'Auntie Lyn,' and her Daddy goodnight, and carried her upstairs.

I tucked Elizabeth into bed and kissed her before turning out the light. Before I closed the door, I realized that the room hadn't changed much since the day we had brought her home. The room still looked the same, with the same furniture, toy boxes, and painted designs on the wall. In fact, the only change made was that the crib was gone and a white-and-yellow bed was now in its place, and just standing in the far left corner of the room. It really was amazing how much time had passed, and how quickly my baby girl had grown.

I quickly, but quietly, headed downstairs to return to my previous place in Mort's lap. He once again wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my hair, placing discreet kisses on my neck and behind my ears in the process. I let my eyes roll back in my head and sighed. I loved these moments with him…he was so sweet and so gentle that it sometimes made me wonder how I could be so lucky as to have married a man like him. Amy had been a fool to cheat on him and let him go…

"So…" Mort murmured, still kissing my neck, "what were you two lovely ladies talking about earlier, hmm?" He kissed me right where my neck was the most sensitive, and all thoughts flew out of my head, along with the answers to his question. "Well? Aren't you going to answer me?"

"Hmmm…what?" I could barely even remember my name, much less what he had just asked me! I was too busy enjoying the blissful sensations flowing through my veins to pay much attention to what was going on.

"You and Kaitlyn were talking about something," Mort whispered as he began rubbing my stomach as he rubbed his nose against my neck. "What was it?"

"Oh, I…can't remember…" I trailed off, leaning back into him, encouraging him to continue.

Mort chuckled as kissed my neck, sending vibrating waves of sensation through my body. I sighed again and tilted my head back, wanting more, and he didn't deny me. We continued to make out in front of the fire for quite some time before I realized that we might have an audience. I turned my head to look around the room, but saw that Mike and Kaitlyn were no longer in the living room with us.

"They went to bed after Elizabeth did," Mort whispered into my ear. "Now it's time for us."

I sighed and allowed him to carry me upstairs. It had been so long since we'd…



Amber's POV: rated R
:

I felt the mattress sink as Mort lay me down on it, carefully slipping my nightgown off of my shoulders and down my legs. His warm hands caressed my thighs, and I smiled up at him as he stared at my body, his brown eyes dark and glazed with bliss. Discarding my nightgown on the floor, Mort smiled as he backed up and shut the door, bolting it shut with the new lock he'd just bought. The 'click' of the lock made it final, and Mort stalked forward, his eyes focused on me and my naked form. He quickly stripped himself as he approached, telling me how much he wanted me with the quickness of his motions. Oh, it had been so long since we'd had a private moment to ourselves!

I reached out to him and he eagerly granted my silent request, practically pouncing on me and pinning me to the bed. I heard a growl in his throat and smiled as his lips began to devour mine in a passionate, maddening kiss. His hands slid down and caressed my sides, pulling me close against his body as his lips left mine and trailed downwards to my breasts, where he left soft, hot kisses in his wake. Mort suddenly left my chest and kissed me again, telling me with his actions that he was as ready for me as I was for him. I smiled up at him and pressed my lips against his, lovingly teasing his mouth with mine as I rubbed his back with my palms. I felt him stiffen as I touched him and heard him groan…that was the signal…

A split second later, Mort was inside me, taking me passionately, but gently, rocking in a perfect rhythm that aroused us both and yet satisfied us at the same time. Quickly, his thrusts increased until he was practically melding me into the mattress, his groans quickly becoming grunts as the force of his thrusts increased. I felt myself growing closer to the end and knew that Mort was right there with me. Suddenly, it hit me, and I opened my mouth to scream, but was silenced by the hot lips of my husband. He swallowed my cries even as he opened his mouth to howl his own orgasm, his hips still thrusting against mine. As I collapsed under him, I felt his body completely empty his seed into me before he, too, collapsed onto the bed, and therefore, onto me. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling trying to catch my breath.



(End rated R moment)

I reached up and caressed Mort's back, sighing as he rubbed his face against my sweat-soaked hair and neck. I then felt his lips press against my shoulder, slowly working their way up to my neck where I knew he'd find my special 'sensitive area' to semi-arouse me enough to speak to. I sighed as he reached that spot and felt him give it a quick kiss as well as a lick to make me giggle and wake up a little. Once he was sure I was awake enough to talk to, Mort pulled pack and looked me in the eye, pure love and adoration filling them as he gazed at me. He reached up and caressed my face even as I pressed my hands against his strong chest, gently rubbing them in a rhythm I knew he liked. A few moments passed as we lay there, basking in the love of the other's presence before Mort spoke.

"So, what were you and Kaitlyn talking about earlier?" he whispered slid off of me, pulling the blanket up and over us to keep out the nightly chill and to cover our naked bodies.

I sighed and put my head on his warm chest. "We were talking about how we were going to distract my parents this year," I said, rubbing my hand across his skin. I smiled and looked up at him. "She wanted to play the guitar for them and impress them with her skills."

Mort snorted. "Sounds like a good idea to me," he whispered as he kissed my forehead. His voice sounded drowsy. "Though, I know the neighbors wouldn't like it if she did…I'm sure you remember what happened last time."

I nodded and listened to his heartbeat, letting it send me off to sleep.



Mort's POV
:

As he felt Amber drift off to sleep, Mort couldn't help but wonder how they could, in fact, distract her parents during this year's holiday visit. Over the past few years, Mort had learned to quickly hate the holiday, and knew that Amber hated it, too. Even though she always got fantastic gifts from her grandparents, Elizabeth hated the holiday as much as everyone else did. The holiday was always a nightmare for his beloved wife and child, as well as for his brother-in-law. Mort could only imagine what Christmas had been like at the Olson house before Amber had left, and knew that they couldn't have been happy. It was truly unfortunate that Mort had only spent one quiet, blissful Christmas with Amber, but that had been while they were in Europe, and Christmas in the Mediterranean was hot and miserable for a pregnant woman from a temperate climate. Plus, they had been on the tour at the time, and didn't really count; they had been so busy that they had actually missed the holiday all together!

'It's not fair,' Mort thought, rubbing his hand along Amber's back so he could feel her soft skin. 'Amber deserves to have a happy holiday, but I can't give it to her, not while her parents are here!'

Well, he could always ask Mike and Kaitlyn to distract them and take care of Elizabeth while he took Amber on a private getaway for a day…

'Actually,' Mort thought, an idea brewing in his head, 'that just might work!'

Satisfied that he could come up with something within the next few weeks before Christmas, Mort quickly drifted off to sleep, the peaceful sound of his wife's breathing in his ears and on his chest.



Third Person POV
:

As quiet dreams filled the minds of those in the Rainey house, there were other minds that were not so quiet elsewhere. As the cabin's residents dreamed of warmth, love, and safety, others dreamed of anger and hate, of fear and revenge…

They say revenge is a dish best served cold…well, this dish had had six years to cool, and the day of reckoning was very close at hand.



AN
: Okay, this is the last reposted chapter. That means the newest chapter, chapter 5, will be up as soon as I can edit it for content that is "against the rules," and who knows how long that'll be? Soon, I hope, but it will be up as soon as I can get it done! Love to ya all, and I'll see you soon!