*beep*
You've reached Josh and Donna. Leave a message after the tone.
*beep*
"Donna, it's your mom. I got the stuff in the mail today. I adore this picture. It's fabulous. I'll get it to the paper this week. By the way, are you sure you want to drive up here next week? It seems like an awful long way. Your dad is more than willing to pick you up at the airport and drive you to the house. It's not like it that's far" *BEEEPPPP*
"I didn't think she was ever going to shut up," Josh mumbles into my hair, his voice thick with sleep.
"She didn't, the answering machine cut her off."
It's nine o'clock on Sunday morning and we don't have to go to work today. Translate that into we haven't gotten out of bed yet. In fact, the phone woke us up.
"Same difference."
We're spooned together under the comforter, Josh's arms wrapped around my waist, his face buried in my neck.
"This is nice," I sigh, pressing myself closer to him. His arms tighten possessively.
"Which picture did you send her?"
"I'll show it to you later. Did you even look at the proofs?"
"I glanced at them. There was only one that I liked." Josh presses a kiss to my shoulder.
"Make me breakfast?" The bout of nausea I was fighting around Thanksgiving hasn't resurfaced, but I'm constantly hungry now. And I still haven't gotten my period. I called my doctor on Thursday. She couldn't get me in until this upcoming Thursday.
Josh responds to my request for food by disappearing beneath the comforter.
"What are you doing?" I ask with a laugh.
"Making you breakfast," is his muffled reply.
***
*beep*
You've reached Josh and Donna. Leave a message after the tone.
*beep*
"Joshua, it's your mother. I know damn well you're at home. Get up and answer the phone."
Joshua is still asleep, so I reach over and answer the phone.
"Morning, Elisa."
"Good morning, Donna. How are you feeling?" She suspects the same thing I do. We went shopping on the day after Thanksgiving and I talked to her about it.
"Pretty good. I'm always hungry lately, though."
Josh stirs at bit at the sound of my voice.
"Where is Joshua?"
"He's still asleep. What's up?" I decide I shouldn't have answered the phone. My hormones are in overdrive.
"It can wait. Have him call me tonight." Elisa accidentally walked in on us three times over the Thanksgiving weekend. She's developed a pretty accurate sense of when she's intruding.
Turning the phone off, I toss it towards the edge of the bed. The rhythm of Josh's breathing tells me he hasn't woken up. Very carefully, I begin to rock my hips against his.
"Donna." Josh mumbles my name in his sleep, unconsciously matching my movements.
***
I'm having this fabulous dream. Donna is having her way with me. I again have no control and that excites me beyond belief. Tightening my dream arms around my dream Donna, I roll onto my back.
***
We lay together until we both regain our breath. Then Josh slides out from under me. Rolling onto his side, he props himself up on his elbow and gazes down at me, his brown eyes filled with tears.
"What's wrong, Joshua?" I reach up and cup his cheek in my hand.
"I love you so much. Do I tell you often enough how much I love you?" The raw emotion he puts out before me is of almost overwhelming intensity.
"You don't have to tell me, you show me. Every day, you show me, Joshua." My own voice cracks and I pull him to me.
***
We lie together for a while longer, listening to one another breath. It's a welcome change from the past couple of weeks. Our sex of late has been more physical than emotional. I don't know how to describe the difference. Donna desires me and I desire her, but the connection we share during our intimacy hasn't been as strong as it was around Thanksgiving. I miss that. I miss seeing my love for her mirrored in her eyes when we come together. We've been adventurous and exploring, but something has been absent.
"Your mother called." Donna breaks the silence.
"Did she say what she wanted?"
"No, she was sort of interrupting something."
"You doing me in my sleep?" I tease her, the overwhelming surge of emotion from earlier has dissipated, leaving behind the simple, comfortable feeling of love I need as though it were oxygen.
"Don't knock it, lover-boy. Why don't you get up and make me breakfast?"
"I already had you for breakfast." Josh runs his hand in circles on my stomach.
"Get up, horn dog." I tell him while crawling out of bed, heading for the bathroom.
"Me?" I can hear the fake indignation in his voice.
"You!" I call back at him.
"Who took advantage of who this morning?"
***
A superficial inspection of the fridge turns up eggs, eight different vegetables, cheese and bread. Scrambled egg gunk and toast it is.
***
I am unable to identify the smell coming from the kitchen when I get done in the shower. At least Joshua got out of bed. I thought that was going to be a thing today.
I need to go Christmas shopping for my family. We're leaving on Saturday for Wisconsin and I'm going to have to ship everything. This is the last day I've got.
Slipping on a t-shirt and boxers, a new plaid flannel pair his mom got him for Hanukkah, I sneak into the kitchen. The stereo is on and Josh is singing along to some opera-sounding thing that fits his voice beautifully.
I've never heard him really sing before. He has an amazing baritone. I stop in the doorway to listen. Feeling my eyes on him, Josh suddenly turns around.
"How long have you been there?" He is blushing, like I caught him at something he shouldn't be doing.
"Just a couple of minutes. You have an incredible voice. How come you don't sing more often?" I walk over to him and lean my head on his shoulder, watching him cook.
Wrapping his arm around me, he shrugs. "Joanie taught me to sing. I knew all the words to Ave Marie before I was three. I took voice lessons for a while, but it didn't ever feel right to sing without her. I quit when I started high school."
I hand him a dish to dump the scrambled egg gunk in. "What are we listening to?"
***
"It's Beethoven's Fidelio performed by the New York City Opera. Mom gave it to me."
"Do you understand it?" Donna sets the dish on the table while I drop the bread in the toaster.
"I know the words." I grin over at her.
"And yet you mocked Sam for the Gilbert and Sullivan thing."
"Donna, it was Gilbert and Sullivan. Come on, it deserved to be mocked."
We sit next to each other with our knees touching under the table. I realize I haven't felt like singing in years. A year with Donna as an intimate part of my life and I feel whole for the first time inforever. Whole enough that I can listen to Beethoven and not flip out, a feat that would have been impossible eighteen months ago.
She picks an envelope up off the table and hands it to me. "The one on top is the one I sent to my parents for the announcement thing."
I pull the stack of proofs out. It is a really good picture of us just being goofy. It wasn't even one of the poses Rachel wanted. It was a candid she snapped. I flip through the rest of them.
"I like that one." Donna points to my least favorite picture.
"The one where I'm looking at you like a love-sick puppy?"
"Yep."
Her eyes are sparkling at me.
"What do you want?" I ask warily.
"We need to go Christmas shopping."
"Christmas?" We just got through Hanukkah.
"We've got to get stuff for my family, Josh. It won't take that long, I promise."
"Okay, okay. Although we could just spend the day making love."
***
"Go. Shower." I order, picking the plates up from the table. He pauses to kiss me on his way to the bathroom.
"I love you," he tells me when our lips part.