September 18th, 1991
If all mornings were like this one, Cal had the feeling he might start to look forward to them again. Once again, the fall sunshine streamed through the windows, and Alyse was snuggled up next to him under the thick quilts, their shared warmth the perfect temperature. His wife had put on a nightgown before they settled to sleep, to stay warm, but he could still feel the skin of her arm and face against his shirtless torso.
Last night had been… well, awkward still, but not nearly as bad as their abortive and abysmal attempt at intimacy a few weeks ago. Maybe PT really was doing something. Certainly, more effective pain medication helped. Or maybe it had just been his good mood at having enjoyed being a real part of last night's festivities. And they would do it again tonight, and for a couple more. Assuming he felt up to it. Right now, he felt pleasantly drowsy.
For most of their intimate lives, and even before Alyse, Cal had been using to being a much more active participant, and he had to admit that if he stopped thinking about how things were supposed to be, letting Alyse take the lead had been a marked improvement over nothing. It wasn't as if his body wasn't willing, even if it wasn't consistent.
Alyse had assured him it had been enjoyable, and as his only lover, and the person whose opinion mattered at all, Cal could only take her at her word. If Alyse was not disappointed, than he should stop beating himself up about it.
It had not taken him long to realize Alyse had totally played him, catching him in his good mood and luring him in. Once, he wouldn't have needed even the invitation, let alone encouragement. It would have been him begging, and hoping she was in the mood. It was an odd turn for their lives to take… this particular role reversal.
"That's an awfully contemplative face for first thing in the morning."
Cal looked over at his wife. "You're a bad influence."
"Because I think, or because of last night?" Alyse winked and kissed his cheek. "In both cases I will take it as a compliment."
"Coming from me… it is a compliment," Cal conceded. "Thank you, for last night. I…needed that."
"You're welcome, and I know." Alyse rested her head back against his shoulder. "I'd like to think I know you pretty well by now."
"There was a time where I would have insisted that I was a relatively uncomplicated guy."
"And you would have been wrong then, too."
"Sex, alchemy, and booze seems pretty simple to me." Not that any of the three had been in ready supply of late, few exceptions not-withstanding.
"When you say it that way, it doesn't sound like anything has changed." Alyse pulled one hand out from under the covers and playfully poked at his nose. "Only someone who didn't know you would think that was all there is to you, Calvin Fischer."
"This is what I get for letting a pretty girl get close." Cal's arm tightened around her shoulders. "And you know… I like it."
"Good, because it is far too late to change your mind, and I'm not going anywhere without you."
"Which is why you dragged me along on this trip… that has turned out to be just what I needed." He might as well admit it. He had felt more like himself with each passing day here. At least, the version of himself that he liked. Sitting at home the past few months in their new house, trying to adjust to a new situation he hated… it had been difficult to even make an effort. Retirement was supposed to mean travel, and romancing his wife, and doing all the things they hadn't had time to do while running two careers and raising their children. Instead, he'd come home one-and-a-half feet in the grave… again, and awoken to be told he would now be a burden on his wife for the rest of their days.
But she really didn't see it that way. He had to admit that, too. Alyse had been very straight forward about it, and it was sinking in, slowly.
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. I know this isn't how you wanted things. Neither of us wanted it this way, but that doesn't mean we can't still do most of the things we looked forward to with both of us finally retired. There's still the whole world to enjoy."
"As long as I get to sleep with my hot nurse… I'll enjoy it."
Alyse chuckled. "Is that a request?"
"Maybe later," he replied reluctantly. "First I'm going to need to take care of the usual morning necessities." If nothing else, he wanted to get to a place where he could get himself out of bed, and in out of that damned chair independently, so he could use the restroom on his own if nothing else. At least, thanks to Winry's modifications to the chair, his independent mobility was no longer limited to the short distances of indoors.
"I'll get the chair." Alyse kissed him before crawling out from under the covers.
September 25th, 1991
The rest of Harvest Festival week was enjoyable for everyone. Or at least, Winry thought, they certainly all appeared to be enjoying it. Edward, Cal, and Ian, and Bonnie continued to help with the trail, and the party, for the other nights, and there was something for everyone to enjoy. The new finished stage got hundreds of compliments, not just from the guests, but from the whole town, especially the people actually performing on the stage.
With the air cleared, Sara, Franz, and Edward seemed to be getting along better then that had in months. Though Winry was certain that some of that had to do with Franz' guilt over having punched Edward. Still, they had had it out, and now the issue would hopefully be put behind them all. The war was over, and no one was going to be able to hide planes away now that they were officially part of the Amestrian military.
Cal was certainly in the best spirits he had been since waking up from the coma months ago. Even if Alyse hadn't commented on it, it was clear that the change of scenery, new pain medication, and additional mobility had all combined to help him feel like he could still move on from this, even if he remained fully or partially paralyzed.
The morning after the festival ended included a mass exodus of family members who needed to take the train back to Central and resume their lives. Sara and Franz, Ethan and Lia, and Ted, Ian, and their families all left on the same train, leaving only Alyse and Cal who had planned to stay a couple more days anyway.
It was much quieter in the house after that, though given how much work the festival was, and how exhausted everyone was from helping set up, run, and tear it down, Winry was not surprised that no one wanted to do anything more adventurous than lay around the house, read books, watch television, play card games, chat, and take long naps.
"I'm beginning to have second thoughts about agreeing to this," Cal admitted as he sat perfectly still in his chair, unsure if he wanted to look at himself in a mirror or not. They were leaving in the morning and he wasn't entirely certain what had possessed him to give in to Alyse's pleas to let her shave him and give him the haircut he had been refusing for months. "Maybe we should have gone to the barber in town."
"It's a little late for that now," Alyse pointed out calmly as she worked carefully around his left ear with the scissors. "I did not marry a mop, and it's about time you stopped looking like one."
"Did I disagree?" Cal exclaimed, trying not to move his head. Those scissors were sharp. He had not been opposed to a trim on principle, but the past few months, the few times he had gone out, it made for a convenient disguise to keep from being recognized on the street.
After this trip, he felt like maybe he would be okay with that now. The least he could do was regain his dignity and hold his head up and be proud of everything he had accomplished. He wasn't done yet.
Alyse had given him a full proper shave first, and now she was almost done—he thought—trimming the riot of curls back into something she considered presentable. Cal just hoped it wasn't back to fresh-military-cut short. Though that also meant that the last of the coloring was probably gone, as much as it had grown out. Cal had never seen himself completely gray. He wasn't sure he was ready for that realization.
"You argued about it long enough," Alyse replied as she finished around the ear which was, thankfully, the second one. She set the scissors down, picked up a comb, and ran it through his hair, playing with each lock with her fingers.
Cal refrained from making any annoyed quips. She was having a good time, and it didn't feel bad, though the air on his ears after the past few months felt odd.
Finally, Alyse smiled. "There now. That's the handsome man I know."
He flashed her a grin he didn't entirely feel. "Well, it's nice to be admired. Do I get to see this masterpiece you've made of my head?"
Alyse handed him one of the hand mirrors. "Take a look."
Bracing himself, Cal held up the glass and looked.
For all the silver—and it was all silver, light silver, dark silver, and bits of white—it was still definitely his hair, unruly curls and all. It wasn't as short as he had feared. More the length he had preferred it before his rank had required a stricter adherence to regulations. Though somehow Alyse had made the curls look like they were purposeful. The shine was reassuring. He'd feared a dull, dingy gray color. The silver actually set off his storm-gray eyes. Maybe I won't dye it again. At least, not immediately. At least he still had it.
He was more tempted to grow back the facial hair, if only because it had covered how frail he had become, and several of his newer scars, when it had first grown in. Cal was sure it was only the amount of alchemical healing done on him that his face was not more wrinkled. Most of them were still around the eyes, but not as deep as he had anticipated.
The scars, like the older ones, were down to thin lines, barely visible even though he doubted they would ever go away. Apparently, Alyse still found his face attractive, so he wasn't inclined to care about them one way or the other.
Alyse was watching, clearly waiting for his reaction, and hoping he didn't hate it.
Cal handed her back the mirror, with an easier smile. "You did a great job, 'Lyse. I like it."
"Good." She bent over and gave him a brief kiss. "Because I'm rather fond of your face, myself. And your hair. I like it this color. It's hot."
"Lucky for me you like older men." Cal waggled his eyebrows. "Do I get a reward for sitting still?"
Alyse smiled, even as she straightened up again. "I know Mom and Aunt Winry are making apple pie as part of our farewell feast." Her expression told him she knew exactly what he meant. "But I'm sure we can find a little time after, as long as we get most of the packing done first."
"I suppose I'll have to live with the anticipation." Not that Cal was opposed to apple pie, but if he had to choose between dessert and Alyse, there would never be any doubt as to which he would choose.
"Only for a little while."
"It's going to be awfully quiet here without you," Alphonse told his daughter as they all sat around the dinner table, enjoying a meal that consisting primarily of Alyse and Cal's favorites, since it was their last night. Not that his son-in-law had ever been picky, but Alyse had weaseled out of him over the years how he liked his beef grilled, and the particular basting sauce ingredients his mother had used. It was one of the few recipes from home Cal had memorized or ever been willing to share.
"Well as tempting as it would be to move in with you," Alyse replied in a light tone, "I don't think either one of us is quite ready to make a permanent commitment to rural life. Nor do I really want to move back in with my parents at my age."
"That's all right. The last thing we need are some youngsters moving in with opinions about how we choose to live our lives and trying to make us do things your way," Edward teased as he filled his plate.
"I'm not sure if I should feel complimented or insulted by being referred to as a youngster in present company," Cal quipped.
"Given Ed's older than almost everybody we know, I'd take it as a matter of fact." Alphonse grinned smugly at his brother.
The comment got a ripple of chuckles from all around the table. Even Edward had the good grace to grin and shrug. It was the truth after all.
"Do you have any plans for when you get home?" Elicia asked curiously.
Alphonse watched Alyse glance briefly at Cal before answering.
"Nothing definite," she replied, though she smiled as she cut into her meat. "Though I'm sure the first thing we'll need to do is spend some time with Miss Whiskers, who has almost certainly been missing her favorite nap spot."
"That's all I am," Cal nodded with a shake of his head. "A cat cushion."
"A noble profession," Alphonse grinned. "I've dabbled in it for years."
"After that, I thought I might see if there's an indoor pool in Central that I can use over the winter," Cal admitted. "Doing PT in the pool is far better than the usual torture they put me through on land. I feel like I've made more progress relaxing here than I did in months back home."
"I'm sure there's at least one where they'd allow it." Alphonse knew some of the community buildings might not want the pool used for someone who needed that level of watching, but there had to be at least one where that was normal. He was just glad to hear Cal making plans and showing interest. The man with them at the end of this trip was a lot more himself than he had been in months, if not years. The weight of command was no longer on him either, and he was free to recover some of that spirit he had lost. The family situation had also stabilized out, which was a relief for everyone. Gloria and Alexei were still happily married, and happily focused on their careers. "Any word on Charlie?" He knew Alyse had called home every few days and spoken with Shelby, or Will. He had refrained from asking any questions over most of the trip, just in case it wasn't something they wanted to talk about.
"He's on his way home!" Alyse's smile brightened. "He'll be back in Central by the time we get back."
"Aaaaand?" Elicia pressed eagerly.
"And he will be moving back in with his family." Alyse looked like she might explode with joy. "Shelby agreed that after the last few months she still wants to try and work things out too."
"I'm glad to hear it." Alphonse felt the same relief he was sure Elicia did, from her expression. He knew Charlie had spent the entire six months calling nightly to talk to the kids, and Shelby, and had done everything he could to prove his loyalty and determination to move forward and set things right. He hoped it worked out for them.
"That," Winry said as she brought the pie to the table, "is something to celebrate."
September 27th, 1991
Charlie Fischer stood in front of the house in Central with no small feeling of trepidation. He had taken a taxi from the train station, since having Shelby try and bring all the children with her to meet him would have been chaos. Now he stood there, duffel over his shoulder, and a suitcase at hand, hoping that the universe wasn't toying with him. He had been given his transfer back to Central, and after many months of talking, Shelby had agreed he could move back in with the family. Not that everything was magically resolved, but she had agreed to give it another go.
Charlie tried to remind himself as he moved up the walk, that he had spoken with Shelby and his kids almost every night. He was hardly walking into a building of strangers. Still, the last time he had been in Central, he had only been allowed in the house when the children were not home. This is it. Time to get this part of my life back.
The door opened as he reached the porch, and Shelby offered him a small smile of welcome. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, Charlie was tackled by two very excited children.
"Daddy!" Abigail squealed, with Cameron on her heels.
Charlie barely had time to drop the handle on the suitcase and open his arms as he knelt, catching both children before they could slam into his legs. "Abby! Cam!" He hugged them tightly, and could not remember a hug ever feeling more genuine than the ones his oldest two children gave him back. He thanked anybody listening that they still loved him. "You've gotten so big!"
Abigail nodded, grinning up at him. "We growed up! Welcome home, Daddy."
"Are you back?" Cameron asked.
"Yes, I'm back." Charlie promised. "Work says I can stay here now."
Cameron looked relieved, and his grin returned. "Good."
Charlie eventually managed to dislodge them long enough for him to get through the door, where he was patiently re-introduced to Summer, who knew him almost entirely as a voice on the phone. Fortunately, when she recognized that voice, she smiled at him. To Sandra, he was also a voice, but as she was only a few months old he was happy with a baby smile. He could have been anyone, but at least she didn't seem afraid of him.
As it was, he found himself the focus of attention as he held Sandra, with Summer sitting beside him, and was pestered by the oldest two about his work, and stories, and presents. He was halfway through a reading of new book Abigail had presented and demanded he read immediately before he realized that Shelby was no longer in the room. Through the kitchen door he could see her hard at work, chopping something. This is what I signed on for. Keeping all of them distracted so she could make dinner in peace was the least he could do, though he wasn't sure how he felt about not getting to really speak to her yet.
Dinner was also entirely focused on the children. Feeding four kids was surprisingly organized chaos, but still chaos. Thankfully Abigail was proficient now with utensils, and even drank out of a normal cup. She did her best not to make a mess. Cameron… was getting there. At least he wasn't purposefully trying to create the mess on the table around his plate, but the oversized bib was definitely a necessity. Charlie found himself stealing bites off his own plate between spoon-feeding Summer, and as soon as Shelby had finished hers, she vanished from the room to breastfeed Sandra.
How had she managed all this by herself? Charlie found himself more and more impressed with her. It took a lot of effort not to sink into feeling ashamed of himself. He was done wallowing in self-pity. That had caused too many problems already.
Shelby gave him the easy part of bedtime: getting Abigail and Cameron ready. His daughter could put on her own pajamas, and Cameron could mostly do so with only a little help. Likewise for brushing teeth. By then, Shelby had both Summer and Sandra ready, and he read them all a story before tucking in Abigail, Cameron, and Summer. Shelby gave Sandra another bedtime feeding, and Charlie took a turn at walking the baby until she burped, changing her one last time and settling her in.
When he made it back downstairs, he was shocked to find it wasn't even eight o'clock yet. It had definitely felt like longer.
Shelby was in the kitchen, clearing the table.
"I can get those," Charlie offered, stepping in to get the last plates. He flashed her a hopeful smile. "I'm sure it's my turn to do the dishes."
Shelby paused, then nodded, stepping away from the sink. "If you want to."
"I do."
Dishes only took a few minutes, even with six people's worth. Then Charlie wiped down the table, chairs, and the floor, all the while aware that Shelby was watching him, even though he never looked at her. When he was done, she was still standing in the doorway, watching with a slightly bemused expression.
"Satisfactory?" Charlie asked, keeping his tone light.
"Very." Shelby nodded. "Would you like some help unpacking?"
"Sure." Not that he needed it, but he took her offering to help as a positive sign. She wasn't regretting inviting him back into the house. He took the bags upstairs into the bedroom, hoping there was still room. Not that he thought Shelby would have expanded her things into the other half of the closet or gotten rid of his things, but he hadn't taken everything with him when he ran out before. All he had to unpack were his personals, uniforms, and a few items he had picked up over the past few months.
"You've started quite a library," Shelby commented with surprise as she pulled a sack of books out of his suitcase.
"I've had a lot of spare time to read." Charlie pretended he was more interested in putting his uniforms in the closet, but he couldn't help but be curious what she thought of them. Most of them were about parenting, child psychology, and a couple on relationships and being a better spouse. He had never expected to be the self-help books type, and he could see Shelby's surprise out of the corner of his eyes. There was also the notebook he had started keeping to remember everything important about his kids.
Shelby flipped through that one. It had everything from their likes and dislikes, to their allergies, and favorite books, colors, animals… important dates like their birthdays and any upcoming appointments Shelby had mentioned, and on the past ones he had noted what she told him about how they were doing. Milestones. Any fears they had. Anything he knew he should know but was afraid he couldn't keep straight in his head. "You have a small encyclopedia here."
"Everything you've said about them when we talk, or when I'm listening to them on the phone. I'm their father. I should have known this stuff long before now. At least I have most of it memorized now. I just keep that for new things now, or updating if something changes."
"I'm impressed," Shelby admitted, setting it down on the rest of the stack. "Writing it down was a good idea. It's a lot to keep track of."
"You've always had a better memory for small details than me," Charlie admitted. "If I'd just thought of keeping track of it all before, I would have been a much better parent."
"We're both still learning." Shelby set the books neatly in a row on the dresser, and reached in, pulling out the next items that came to hand.
Charlie figured it was just his luck that she came up with his medications. Not that he hadn't been on—or had been supposed to be on—some things pretty much the entire time they had known each other, but the bag contained the entire pharmacy that made his brain work: mood stabilizers, impulse control, focus and memory. Things he had fought most of his life. With them he could think clearly, rationally, and avoid doing dumb crap. "There's just some things my brain doesn't do great on its own" he commented. "Those…uncross the wiring."
Shelby had worked in a clinic for a while. He could tell she recognized the names on the bottles. She nodded and took them into the bathroom, putting them up in the medicine cabinet, well out of reach of small hands. "I'm glad."
Soon enough everything was away, and they were alone. It wasn't even nine. In North City he might have read a book now, or showered, or watched television. But somehow that didn't feel right. At least not in this moment. Charlie noticed Shelby was watching him intently. "Yes?"
She shrugged. "I was just wondering why you shaved."
Oh. In all the chaos and his own anxiety, Charlie had forgotten that he had shaved the night before. "The kids have never seen it," he replied. "I figured it would be less of a shock looked like how they remember it. Though… if you liked it, I can always grow it back." He flashed her a grin.
"It looked good on you. Though it's nice to see this familiar face too." She closed the distance between them and reached out, touching his smooth cheek. "I've missed you."
"I missed you, too." Desperately, daily, with an aching need to be near her, but now was not the moment to profess those emotions too strongly. There would be a right time, and right words. He just needed to be patient. "May I kiss you?"
Shelby nodded, then leaned in to meet him.
The touch of her lips on his was as electric as it had ever been, even for those too-brief moments that it lasted. There were to be no passionate embraces, he supposed, stifling his disappointment. He hadn't expected them, not immediately. "What would you like to do this evening?" he asked.
"Usually at this point all I have time or energy for is a shower and then a book, or maybe some television," Shelby admitted.
"That sounds like my evenings," Charlie admitted his earlier thought, and smiled.
"You shower first," Shelby suggested. "I'm sure after being on the train for days you could use it."
"Is that a suggestion that I would enjoy it more, or that I smell?" Charlie made sure he didn't sound honestly offended.
"Mostly the former, but I wouldn't deny that you could smell fresher."
"Then fresh it will be." Charlie let go of her hand, which he had held only too briefly, and then collected his soap and shampoo and went to avail himself of plenty of hot water.
It felt good to have plenty of hot water and excellent pressure in the shower. Charlie soaked for several minutes before he started scrubbing himself down thoroughly. It was one thing to be clean. It was another with a beautiful woman to impress. It was as he started trying to scrub his back, that he realized he didn't have a brush.
"Need some help with that?" Shelby's voice startled him. He hadn't even heard her come into the bathroom.
But if she was offering. "Sure," he agreed, and he felt himself both tense and then relax under the sensation of her scrubbing his back. It didn't last nearly long enough. When she finished, he turned off the water. "Thanks," he said, as he turned around to face her, and almost tripped over himself as he realized she was standing there… entirely naked.
It had been so long since he had seen all of her, it was all he could do not to stare, and he was certain he failed. Here was Shelby in all of her radiant beauty, and it was as if he had never seen her before.
This was not the slip of a teenager he had lost all sense over. This was a woman, barely into her twenties, with all the signs of the four children she had birthed, including the one she still fed. He knew she had been getting regular exercise, and it showed in how much her shape had recovered from delivering only a few months ago, but he would never have been able to honestly say she didn't look like a mother of four, because she did… and it was beautiful, like those statues of Cretan goddesses.
Even after feeding Sandra before bed, her breasts hung full and round, and a full twice the size they had been when they married, if not more, given how slight she had been in high school. He had the feeling if he took them in his hands, they would overflow them right now, but he didn't dare. Her hips were fuller, and as much as her stomach had reduced back from childbirth, there was a softness to her shape, and skin stretched and puckered in ways that he knew after the surgery with the last would never fully go away.
Though there was nothing timid in her stance. She stood firm, almost expectantly, watching him even as he was looking at her.
Waiting for a reaction he realized, or a comment. He felt a moment of heart pain as he thought of careless comments he had made when they lived in North City, when nearly back-to-back pregnancies had eaten all of her time and her energy, and caring for two littles while carrying the third had given her little time for herself. Instead of being supportive, instead of pulling his own weight, he had left her floundering while he bedded slender, busty, childless women in search of his own comfort. What little he had done had been woefully inadequate.
How had he ever wanted anything but the woman standing before him now?
"Are you just going to stare at me all night?" she finally asked.
Charlie flashed her his best smile. "Only if you'll allow me, fair Goddess Artima, for if there is one thing I know, I am not worthy to gaze upon your beauty otherwise." Artima, the Cretan goddess of fertility and childbirth, but also of the wilds; a powerful woman in all portrayals, and in all her forms.
"Be serious," Shelby replied, though he caught her fighting back a small smile.
"I am." His expression softened. "You look amazing, Shels… I've never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. You have no idea how badly I'd like nothing more than to take you back in there to our bed right now."
"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea." Shelby nodded briefly downward, and Charlie remembered he was still completely naked, and his feelings entirely exposed.
"See, proof I'm being honest." Charlie grinned sheepishly, though he didn't dare to hope. If all they did tonight was flirt, it was better than they had done in… years. "Though I guess I shouldn't assume I pass muster after all this time either."
"Wise." Shelby nodded, crossing her arms. As they crossed under her chest, he found it even harder to resist her. "Though I think you still meet with approval."
"Thank goodness for that." Because standing there with the water off, the air from the doorway was starting to get a little chilly. "Does that mean you're going to let me out of here long enough to get into something dry?"
"I'm still deciding." Shelby gave him another look up and down. "If I am a goddess, that means you'll do anything I desire, is that correct?"
"Anything within my power is yours, my love," Charlie promised, though he had no idea what she was going to ask of him. All he knew was, at this point, he would do just about anything to earn his way fully back into her good graces.
Her expression said he might have to do just that. "Then if you can provide me with the ultimate in pleasure, I will consent to allow you to sleep on your half of the bed tonight."
Had he heard right? Charlie stared at her a moment, but the look in her eyes told him she was saying exactly what he thought she was. "Ultimate pleasure… you have a very high opinion of my abilities…"
"In the almost-five years we have been married, almost all the sex I've had I have either gotten pregnant, or already been pregnant, and the last time was Sandra's conception so… it's been a while," Shelby laid it out flatly. "Now that there is no possible chance that I'm going to wind up pregnant again, I would like my share. You owe me a lot of pleasure, my husband."
When she put it that way… no pressure. "I will do my absolute best to leave you completely satisfied, my lady." Tentatively he reached out for her, taking her hand. In this, he hoped, he could be successful as a husband. After all, it was one of the few things he'd been good at.
If he failed, his ego would never recover.
In the dim light from the moon outside the bedroom window, Shelby could see the soft outline of Charlie's silhouette under the blankets, home with her for the first time in far too long. His sides rose and fell with the deep rhythm of someone sleeping off exhaustion.
Not that he hadn't earned it, she thought with a soft chuckle to herself. Not after she had run him entirely ragged, in an evening that had required both of them to shower again before retiring for the night for real. Not that they had just washed in the shower either.
There was something incredibly freeing in the knowledge—and she'd seen the documented proof—that Charlie couldn't get her pregnant again, that she was free—they were free—to enjoy the pleasure and passion that had gotten them into this situation in the first place, without discomfort for either of them, or concern of having any more children in their already large family.
Four babies in five years… if she counted their time together from Abigail's conception that summer, and not starting at their wedding. For most of their marriage her default state had been one of discomfort, with a belly swollen with pregnancy, aching everything, sleepless nights, and in the brief interludes between, little more than a milch cow living her whole life to care for infants in that tiny apartment.
Never again.
It was a relief knowing that once Sandra was weaned, she would be done with breastfeeding. When Sandra was potty trained, diapers would be done. And oh, she was tired of diapers! It had been nice this evening, to have Charlie handle every one of those. She hoped his resolve lasted.
She hoped all of this lasted, but for the first time in a long time, she had hope. Charlie now was a far different person from the one he had been when he ran away last year, or when he had been miserable at Briggs. There was a fire in him again, if smaller, not unlike that which had convinced her—in her adolescent foolishness—that together they could do anything.
Right now, she would settle for together they could have a functional relationship and create a good family life for their children.
Yes, tonight had been, in a way, a test. Though it had also been an admission that she had missed his affections and attentions… the abandon and lack of worry they'd had before their parents had tried to break them up. A fact that, many times in the past couple of years, she had wondered if they hadn't been wise to do so. Still, she would rather prove them wrong than fail.
Charlie had given her all of himself first, making sure she had her pleasure before concerning himself with his own…which was saying something, given Shelby knew full well—thanks to one of her recent courses and some interesting counseling sessions—how much more a woman could handle than a man before she tired. So tonight, she had asked for as much as she wanted, and she had received it.
While Shelby tried hard not to think about where Charlie had learned some of what he had done to her last night—definitely things he had not known when they were first together—she could not deny that they were effective. Perhaps, for the first time in her life, she felt properly satisfied.
She had also been truthful when she said he passed muster. The past few years, and his military work, had wrought changes in Charlie as much as herself. He had always been a good-looking young man, but now he had grown more fully into himself. His shoulders were broader, his body had more lean, defined muscle. He looked like a man now, not a boy.
"You still up?"
Startled, Shelby looked over and found Charlie blinking at her in the night. "I thought you were asleep."
"I was for a bit." Charlie smiled. "You're voracious."
"Are you complaining?"
"Not a bit." He snuggled closer, and kissed her neck, wrapping his arms around her. She let him, leaning in to the cuddle. "I am your willing bed slave, Goddess. My body is yours to do with as you like, anytime you like…"
"As if you wouldn't like that." She chuckled. "We still have to consider that there are four inevitable interruptions sleeping just down the hall."
"And… how often do they interrupt your nightly activities?"
"Abigail sneaks in here to snuggle at least every other night, and usually brings Cameron with her. Summer can't, so she just cries, and Sandra still isn't consistently sleeping through the night without at least one middle-of-the-night feeding. Which… will probably be anytime here in the next few minutes if she didn't get enough at bedtime."
"Then… we'll just have to get creative and be flexible."
"I think you proved some of both this evening," Shelby teased. "But have no fear, I assure you, bed slave, you won't get off light on your duties."
"Work me all you like."
"Don't worry. I will. We have lots of house chores around here that never seem to be done."
Charlie blinked, startled, then laughed. "I'll show them who's boss… you, of course."
Shelby really hoped this new version of Charlie was a long-term improvement. "True. So, tell me.. where did you find that trick that you did earlier? You know the one where you…" not knowing quite how to describe it, she gestured with her fingers.
Charlie nodded then, was he blushing? It was hard to tell in the dark. "Oh, I ah… in a book, actually."
"What kind of a book tells you how to do that?" Shelby couldn't imagine what respectable publication would talk about such things.
Charlie had gone full scarlet. "It wasn't anything inappropriate," he said, looking vaguely flustered. "It was in the same section of the bookstore as the parenting books, if you want to know."
"I… suppose books about sex next to books about their consequences isn't so weird," Shelby acknowledged.
"It's not just about sex. It's… well it's another one of the ones about being a good partner… how to help around the house, how to split the workload, how to you know… listen, ways of resolving disagreements. The counselor I was seeing in North City actually recommended it. When he did I ah… didn't know that chapter was in there. But it looks like it was worth the read."
"Oh, I would say so," Shelby agreed. "I didn't see that book when you unpacked earlier."
"It doesn't look like that kind of book from the cover."
"Well, if it has suggestions like that one, I hope you read it very thoroughly." Shelby kissed his cheek. "It means a lot to me, how hard you're trying at this."
"I want to be a great husband to you, and a father to our kids," Charlie replied emphatically. "I know it won't be perfect, and I'll probably botch things, but I never ever want you to be sorry again that we're together, and I want to be everything I promised you, to give you everything I promised you, for the rest of our lives. I want to be whatever you need me to be… because that's always been the best version of myself that I could aspire to be."
"I have to admit… that's probably one of the most romantic things you've said in a long time." Shelby closed her eyes, just enjoying the feel of his arms around her, his presence that she had missed desperately.
"I'm glad it makes you happy…though I really need to work on my lines."
"Oh, I don't know. Those were pretty good."
