Title: Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Author: Kimberly21570
Fandoms: Guiding Light / All My Children
Pairings: Olivia and Natalia / Lena and Bianca
Disclaimers and other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia Rivera, Doris and Ashlee Wolfe, Phillip Spaulding, and Maureen "Maury" Reardon are owned by CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. The characters of Lena Kundera and Bianca Montgomery belong to ABC/Disney and Prospect Park. The original characters of Jordan and Lexie Montgomery-Kundera, Jennifer, Tracy, Jacob, and Dylan Jackson-Morgan and their extended family, Detective Sargent Langston Malloy, Attorney Danika Kováč, Judge Bennett Thomas and her daughters, Rian and Lauren, Jacqueline, Jake and Preston Morgan are the property of this author, and any resemblance to fictional characters, or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No copyright infringement intended with regard to Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, or any other person or entity. The dialogue and story content in these scenes are original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.
Many thanks to my friend and favorite FFW, WickedWanda926, and my friend newfan64 for the edit on this one.
Rating: Overall, Chapter 16 is NC-17 for colorful language and overt sexual content. My goal is to update each weekend (Thursday or Friday) between now and the Fourth of July, which is when the majority of this chapter takes place—July 4, 2009. It is my hope to give Otalia—and all of you—the Independence Day we all wanted and deserved back in 2009, but were cheated out of because TPTB at P&G were such asshats.
A lot happens during Chapter 16, and it does move back and forth in time between where we left off in Chapter 15, and the Fourth of July holiday both in Springfield and on Martha's Vineyard. Thus, the timeline is important, so as not to get confused as to when certain events are occurring.
I hope y'all continue to enjoy!
Kimberly
Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Copyright May 2009
"When you meet someone so different from yourself, in a good way, you don't even have to kiss to have fireworks go off."
— Lisa Schroeder, I Heart You, You Haunt Me
Chapter 16.1 – A Few Fireworks of Our Own:
Saturday, July 4, 2009… The Cottage, Martha's Vineyard—6:30 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Wispy tufts of wind blew in off of the surf, meandering their way toward the upper deck of the cottage, where a lone figure lounged in an Adirondack chair, one knee bent, a foot braced against the seat, leisurely sipping on a mug of piping hot coffee. Offshore, seagulls danced on sun-kissed wings, gliding carelessly along in the warm summer breeze, while onshore, it seemed the world was just beginning to stir.
Faint sounds in the distance—the bark of a dog, the squeal of a young child, the occasional cranking of an engine—said a few of the neighbors had risen. But the cottage behind her remained still. A welcomed respite from the chaos that raged within her own mind.
Curling around her, the breeze wrapped her in its warmth, chasing away the chill that permeated her bones. Ten days had passed, and still, her unease had not dissipated, despite the distance she had placed between herself and the imminent danger that lurked in Springfield and beyond. Perhaps it was the "beyond" part that had her so uptight.
Taking another sip of her coffee, she set the mug on the arm of the wooden chair, as her thoughts drifted back to that fateful morning—the one that ushered in the circumstances that ultimately led to her entire life changing…
Monday, June 22, 2009… The Beacon, Danika Kováč's Room—4:15 a.m. Central Daylight Time
Like a caged lion, Dani paced the thickly padded carpeting of her hotel room, her anxiety racing at a fever pitch as the minutes ticked painfully away. It had been nearly three hours since she'd awakened with a sense of dread and fear like nothing she had ever experienced in her life. Grateful to Doris for having obtained not only Langston's home address, but also her cell phone number the previous Friday, she had dialed the number frantically for more than an hour before finally giving up and dialing dispatch at the Springfield Police Headquarters, the way she had reached Langston just days before. Even the dispatch operator failed to evoke a response from the detective, and thus, Dani was left with no other choice but to strike out on her own.
Dressing hurriedly, she raced out of the hotel, driving like a maniac until she reached Langston's apartment, where she pounded on the door like a lunatic until she woke several of the neighbors. Most of them scowled at her, and threatened to call the police. When she reminded them that Langston was the police, they slowly slinked back into their personal abodes. Only one neighbor remained—the sweet old lady who lived next door. She kindly informed Dani that Langston had left out, practically in the middle of the night the previous Friday.
"It wasn't long after you left, that she took off out of here, Dear," she old lady reported, gently patting Dani's hand. She had seen Dani waiting outside Langston's apartment earlier that Friday evening, and was intrigued because Langston rarely had guests. "Looked like she planned to be away for a few days."
Thanking the sweet, nosy little neighbor lady, Dani returned, defeated, to her hotel room, where she continued to pace and frantically dial Langston's cell number, in vain. Dammit, Langston, why aren't you answering your phone? she cursed inwardly one moment. And in the next, she was begging a God she wasn't even certain existed, for mercy. Please, God. Please. Wherever she is, please just let her be safe.
Saturday, July 4, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—5:45 a.m. Central Daylight Time
The burgeoning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting its warm, inviting glow across their bed. Instinctively, Olivia burrowed deeper under the covers. It wasn't so much that she minded mornings—she just would've liked them better if they didn't arrive until noon. Slowly, but surely, Natalia was changing that about her; but she still wasn't receptive to morning when it arrived this godawful early. She was thankful they didn't have a rooster. She would have killed the damned thing by now.
Uncharacteristically, Natalia groaned at the bright intruder, and rolled to her side, facing away from the window. Her legs felt swollen and her back was aching, and she wondered if she would ever have another decent night's sleep again. And she was only six months into the pregnancy! What on earth would months seven, eight, and nine bring? She shuddered at the thought.
Without conscious thought, Olivia curled up behind her, draping her arm loosely around Natalia's waist. "Baby making you uncomfortable again?" she murmured against Natalia's ear.
"Mm…" Natalia groaned in answer. "She seems bent on making me miserable the past couple of days."
"Can I get you anything?" Olivia offered. She had grown accustomed to fetching glasses of water, mugs of warm milk, late-night snacks, the heating pad, and another number of other assorted items for Natalia—anything to help her sleep.
"No, thanks," Natalia replied gratefully. "But you can keep holding me."
Brushing a kiss against Natalia's neck, Olivia snuggled closer, tightening her hold. "Best way to start my day."
"Mm… me too," Natalia murmured. "Though I certainly won't deny how much I enjoy waking up to find your mouth on me," she confessed.
Instantly, Olivia felt her body flush with excitement. "Oh, yeah?" she husked.
"Mm…" Natalia breathed.
She remembered, in vivid detail, waking to the exquisite sensation of Olivia's mouth suckling her most sensitive parts the morning previous. Emma was at a sleepover with Maury, allowing Olivia and Natalia the luxury of sleeping in the nude. Never in her life had Natalia thought that would be something she enjoyed, because she had always been so self-conscious about her own body. But being with Olivia had changed all of that; and now, even six months pregnant, and what she considered to be "big as a house," she still felt beautiful, desirable. Olivia made her feel that way.
Olivia, too, remembered their encounter the morning previous. She had awoken to find Natalia in quiet repose, her beautiful naked flesh exposed to the light of the morning sun, and she found herself unable to resist the urge to touch.
Gently, her fingertips caressed smooth, creamy breasts, teasing darkening nipples to firm attention. They looked so plump and ripe for the suckling that Olivia had to tamp the urge to take them into her mouth. Later, she admonished. She had a far more succulent destination in mind. And then her fingers glided along the curve of Natalia's belly, lightly stroking the underside.
Natalia stirred, her clitoris stiffening with arousal, but surprisingly, she did not wake.
A sure hand brushing against firm thighs, Olivia urged them to separate, and even in her sleep, Natalia acquiesced. Smiling, Olivia took the time to appreciate the beauty of Natalia's most sacred places—the thick thatch of nearly jet-black hair at the base of her belly, and the full, plump lips that lay hidden beneath. And then there was that gorgeous clitoris, so full, and ripe and ready to be taken, as it peeked out from between those luscious lips. Even when Natalia wasn't aroused, it looked inviting. But now, arousal glistening along the length of that stiff shaft, it looked positively scrumptious. Olivia felt the undeniable rush of arousal between her own legs, as her own clitoris stiffened, almost to the point of pain.
Lightly, she trailed a fingertip along the outer edge of Natalia's mons, carefully avoiding any contact with her clitoris. Though her mouth watered with anticipation, she wanted to save that for last.
Reveling in the taste and scent of Natalia's arousal, she meticulously explored the nooks and crannies of those sensitive folds, first with her fingertips, and then with her mouth and tongue, until finally, Natalia was so aroused that her clitoris began to spasm. And finally, Olivia lowered her mouth to cover that sweet, succulent gift, and began to suckle; lightly at first, her tongue tracing the full length, and playfully teasing the tip, and then more vigorously, until she had driven Natalia's body to the breaking point.
Blinding orgasm ripped through Natalia's body, bringing her to full consciousness. Arching her back off of the bed, she cried out her pleasure, as her entire body shook with release, her clitoris convulsing wildly in Olivia's hot, avid mouth. Reaching down, she tangled her fingertips in Olivia's hair, holding that talented mouth firmly against her until the final vestiges of her release rippled through her body.
Olivia's own orgasm swiftly followed, and then she lay exhausted, her cheek resting against a thigh, slick with arousal. "That was incredible," she murmured, her senses still reeling from the heady scent of Natalia's release.
Fingertips still tangled in Olivia's hair, lightly caressing the back of Olivia's neck, Natalia released a deep sigh of contentment. "You can wake me like that any morning," she husked.
A light kiss brushed against Natalia's thigh, and then Olivia shifted upward in their bed. Pulling Natalia to her, she gently cupped a breast in her palm, her thumb lightly stroking across an engorged nipple, as she kissed her mouth. "That would be my extreme pleasure," she murmured.
Back in the present, Olivia nuzzled against Natalia's ear. "Interested in a repeat?" she murmured. Her fingertips danced over Natalia's belly.
"As much as I'd like to say yes, I think our daughter might object this morning," Natalia said with a weary sigh. "Later, maybe?"
Olivia grinned. "Later, definitely."
They both smiled when they felt the baby squirm and then kick several times against Olivia's forearm where it lay draped across Natalia's expanding belly. "She's really active this morning," Olivia noted.
"She's been active all night," Natalia groaned. "I wish she'd go to sleep, so I could get some rest."
"Hmm… Shot of whiskey?" Olivia suggested teasingly.
Reaching back, Natalia swatted Olivia's thigh, admonishing her with the simple utterance of her name.
Olivia laughed. "Okay, maybe I'll just have the whiskey."
"You don't need it either," Natalia said insistently.
A discontented grumble accented Olivia's response. "Spoil-sport," she muttered.
"You can have beer at the barbecue," Natalia placated with a gentle pat to Olivia's thigh. "I'll drive us home."
Olivia fell quiet then, contemplative. "Phillip will be there today," she finally said, after reconciling herself to the fact that she couldn't keep him from Emma any longer. But that didn't mean she had to like it.
"How do you feel about that?" Natalia asked gently.
"Resigned," Olivia sighed.
"That's better than angry, I suppose," Natalia granted.
"Don't worry… I'm leaving my gun at home," Olivia wittily reported.
"How comforting," Natalia said dryly.
Sensing the wry smile on Natalia's lips, Olivia chuckled softly. And then she pressed another kiss to Natalia's ear. "We should probably try to sleep a little longer," she suggested. "Long day ahead of us."
"Agreed," Natalia sighed. "Let's just hope our little bundle of joy here is in agreement."
Gently, Olivia rubbed Natalia's belly. "You hear that, Téa?" she queried. "It's time to settle down. Your mama needs some sleep."
The baby kicked again in response, and Olivia grinned against Natalia's ear. "She says she'll behave," she translated.
Natalia laughed softly. "Gee, and I thought that meant she wanted to play soccer," she commented.
"Nah, that one means she's tired," Olivia assured.
"You're ridiculous, you know that?" Natalia said affectionately.
"Sometimes," Olivia agreed lightly. "Now sleep."
Natalia didn't have to be told twice. She settled into the warmth of Olivia's embrace, and closing her eyes, she allowed sleep to take her.
Saturday, July 4, 2009… The Cottage, Martha's Vineyard—6:45 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Steaming mug of coffee in hand, Bianca wandered out onto the back deck finding Dani staring out over the surf. A surge of empathy for the woman washed over her as steadily as the tide that washed ashore, as she remembered the mornings she spent doing the very same thing during the months she spent at the cottage, healing from the trauma of her rape.
She slid a gentle hand over Dani's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Morning," she said quietly, not wanting to startle her.
"Mm… morning," Dani answered, a slow yawn accompanying a languorous stretch. "Hope I didn't wake you."
"Not at all," Bianca said passively. "Lexie took care of that, as usual," she laughed.
Dani laughed with her. "She's a little firecracker, that one," she said with obvious affection. Having Lena and Bianca's children around had been a godsend for her the past few days, and she had grown quite fond of them.
Bianca smiled in agreement, and then the air between them fell silent, but for the sound of the waves against the shore. A plane flew overhead, too high in the sky to be heard, the shiny surface of wings reflecting the bright morning sunlight. And in the distance, a lone sailboat skittered across the choppy waters of Vineyard Sound.
"Have I thanked you today for your hospitality?" Dani asked, breaking the silence several minutes later.
"The fresh coffee is thanks enough," Bianca replied.
A smile flickered across Dani's lips. "Hardly seems enough."
"Then you can cook us dinner tomorrow night," Bianca suggested with a grin.
"Consider it done," Dani readily agreed. "What would you like?"
"Surprise us."
Silence fell between them again, both contemplating.
"So how are you doing?" Bianca asked, her voice soft and soothing.
"Honestly, I'm not sure," Dani answered. "So much has happened I've barely had a chance to process it all."
"Understandable," Bianca said, truly meaning it.
Dani nodded in agreement. And then she sighed softly. "I didn't think it was possible to miss another human being this much," she quietly confessed. "I mean, I thought I missed her before," she shared, her voice quavering with emotion. "But that was nothing compared to what I feel now."
"I can only imagine," Bianca quietly empathized. Reaching over, she gently squeezed her companion's arm. She didn't offer empty platitudes—they would do no great service anyway. They would only succeed in diminishing Dani's experience, and Bianca would never purposely do that to another human being. Instead, she just chose to be with her in her silences.
Reflecting upon her own past, Bianca finally said, "This Island, this cottage, is a place of healing and renewal, Dani. And you're welcome here as long as you need," she said sincerely.
"You can't know what that means to me," Dani said sincerely.
"No," Bianca agreed. "I don't imagine that I can." Rising from her seat, she regarded the other woman for a moment. "But I know what this place meant to me when I needed it. I wish for you an experience that meets your own need."
With that, she gave Dani's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, and wandered back inside. She knew that Dani needed her space. And if she were being honest, she would admit to wanting a few more moments of quiet for herself before the day began in earnest. Lena was already out on her morning run, and Lexie would be fussing for breakfast soon. Jordan wouldn't be far behind, Bianca knew. And the rest of the family would descend upon them soon enough. She smiled to herself as she stepped through the back door into the family room of their little cottage on the beach. Days like today were always interesting, to say the least, and she was looking forward to celebrating the holiday with her them all.
Saturday, July 4, 2009… Bennett Thomas's Residence—8:45 a.m. Central Daylight Time
"Will it be weird for you today?" Bennett asked, as she casually rippled her fingertips through the thickness of her dark hair. It was still wet from their shared shower. And now they were standing side by side in the bathroom, getting ready in tandem, as they had spontaneously come to do in the weeks since they were reunited romantically.
Still wrapped in her towel, Doris propped one foot up on the edge of the garden tub, and began working a handful of lotion into her skin from hip to toe. "Will what be weird?"
"Being at the Bauer barbecue with our girls… as a family," Bennett expounded. "Introducing me as your lover?"
During a dinner the Tuesday after Bennett cleared herself of the Jackson case, they had told the girls about their relationship. Ashlee had been shocked, of course, because, well, she was Ashlee, and she was fairly oblivious to most of the happenings in the world around her. But she was happy for them, excited even, that her mom finally had someone to love and to love her.
Rian hadn't been the least bit surprised—after all, she was named after the woman! What more of a tell did a person need? she reasoned, when Bennett asked her what had given them away. She was just happy that her mom was finally free to embrace the love she had sheltered within her heart for Doris for so many years. And Lauren, while taken off guard, and a bit confused at first, was equally as thrilled for the two of them.
And today, they would share their news with the world, constituency be damned.
Turning toward her, Doris met Bennett's gaze squarely. "Not a chance," she said resolutely. "I've been looking forward to today for a very long time."
The hint of a smile touched Bennett's lips. "How long?"
"Since the day I realized I was in love with you," Doris answered honestly.
Bennett went to her then, cradling Doris's face in her hands, her fingers resting on Doris's cheeks, as she gazed into those deep blue eyes. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long," she whispered in apology.
And then she kissed her. Tenderly at first, and then with increasing need. She kissed her until Doris's hands fell to her waist, pulling her close, as she allowed their towels to drop to the floor, pooling carelessly around their feet.
They were definitely going to be late to the barbecue, but neither of them really cared.
Saturday, July 4, 2009… The Jackson-Morgan Residence—9:00 a.m. Central Daylight Time
The familiar chime of the doorbell pulled Jen's attention away from the fresh celery she was dicing for Tracy's signature potato salad. They had been working side by side for the better part of an hour, but the potatoes were boiling, bacon sizzled in the frying pan on the stove, and the remainder of the ingredients were well on their way to being ready.
"I'll get it," she said, her knife already set on the counter top. Grabbing a dish towel from nearby, she wiped her hands.
"Thanks, Babe," Tracy said appreciatively. She swiped at her eye with the back of the hand, and continued dicing the onions.
Dropping the towel back on the counter, Jen brushed her lips across Tracy's cheek. "You're welcome," she murmured.
Stepping into the living room, she quickly made her way across the thickly padded carpet. They weren't expecting anyone, especially considering it was a holiday and most everyone had special plans.
"Jacqueline," Jen said, surprised to find her former mother-in-law standing on her doorstep. She looked elegant, as always, dressed in a smartly cut gray linen suit and open-toed sandals, her thick, dark hair framing that regal face.
"I hope this isn't a bad time," Jacqueline said, almost timidly.
"No, not at all," Jen said warmly. "Please, come in." She opened the door wider to allow the woman entrance. "I've tried to call you a few times the past couple of weeks. I hope everything's okay."
"Oh, I was out of town on… business," Jacqueline said dismissively, as Jen closed the door behind her. "And yes, Dear, things are fine. Just a lot of details to sort out after Preston's death."
Placing a warm, comforting hand on Jacqueline's back, Jen gave her an affectionate rub. "I truly am sorry for your loss, Jacqueline," she said sincerely. Preston may have been a snake, and she wouldn't lie and say she was sorry he was no longer a threat to her family, but she was deeply sorry for Jacqueline's pain. She understood, only too well, how it felt to lose a spouse, and she would never wish that kind of pain on another.
Dark eyes, filled with pain, met Jen's earnest blue ones. I don't know how you can say that and mean it after all the heartache that bastard put you through, but honest to God, I believe you. "Thank you," she said softly.
Jen offered a warm smile, as she hooked an arm around Jacqueline's, placing her other hand atop Jacqueline's bicep. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" she asked, as they moved further into the room.
"I… wanted to talk with you about something," Jacqueline announced. "Something I should've told you about a long time ago."
Jen regarded her with concern. "Sounds serious," she ventured.
"I think it will explain a lot," Jacqueline replied vaguely.
"Let's go talk in the den," Jen suggested.
Jacqueline nodded her agreement, and Jen led the way.
As they passed through the kitchen, Tracy glanced up from her growing pile of onions. "Oh! Hi, Jacqueline," she greeted, hoping she didn't sound too surprised to see her.
"Good morning, Tracy," Jacqueline said warmly. "I hope all is well."
Tracy grinned. "All is definitely well," she answered, her gaze flickering toward Jen. "I hope the same for you."
Jacqueline simply nodded. She didn't want to lie.
"Something to drink?" Jen offered.
"Coffee would be nice," Jacqueline answered, grateful for the distraction. "If you already have some brewed."
"Luck would have it, I'm just brewing a fresh pot." Tracy smiled, wiping her hands on the towel Jen had discarded a few minutes earlier. "Why don't you go ahead into the den," she suggested, knowing exactly where they were headed. It was the most private room in their home, save their bedroom. "I'll bring it in when it's ready."
An adoring smile stole across Jen's face, and she lightly squeezed Tracy's arm. "Thank you, Honey," she said with affection.
"Anytime," Tracy replied, with a brush of her fingertips across Jen's arm.
Watching them together, for the first time in a very long while, Jacqueline felt a deep sense of peace settle over her soul. Preston had been so wrong! Not that she hadn't already known it was true, but seeing them together, witnessing the obvious love they felt for one another, cemented her knowledge, and gave her the strength to say what she had come to say.
Leaving the kitchen, Jacqueline followed Jen through the formal dining room, and down a long hall that led toward the den. Jake had called it his "man cave," once upon a time. But now, she found it to be a warm, inviting oasis, tucked away near the back of Jen and Tracy's home.
As they entered the room, Jacqueline's gaze went naturally toward the mantle of the beautifully crafted stone fireplace. Pictures of Jen and Jake, with Jacob and without, remained in their rightful place, alongside photos of Jacob and Dylan throughout the years. She smiled to herself as she perused them from afar.
And now, there were photos of Jen and Tracy, captured in intimate moments, and of the two women with her grandsons, looking like the family that they were. It still pained her just a little to think of this home as belonging to anyone other than Jen and Jake, but Tracy was Jen's partner now, her fiancée, and she had resolved in her heart to respect that.
Stepping toward the mantle, Jacqueline reached out, lifting a photo of Jen and Jake, taken during their wedding reception on Nantucket Beach. They were so young, so in love. She had envied them that at the time. "I remember taking this," she said quietly, her own eyes filling with tears as she gazed into her son's warm brown eyes.
Moving to Jacqueline's side, Jen placed her hands on Jacqueline's shoulders, giving them an affectionate squeeze. She had never been close to Jacqueline—the other woman had constructed a wall that excluded everyone other than her son, years before Jen was ever in the picture. To her knowledge, the only other souls who had ever been allowed in were Jacob and Dylan. She loved her grandsons madly, but even then, there were boundaries that Jen had never understood. That didn't keep her from caring for the other woman.
"I remember, too," she said, sharing the memory with her. It was sunset on the beach, and Jake's arms were wrapped around her from behind, as he whispered against her ear, telling her how he couldn't wait to be alone with her, but that he didn't want this perfect evening on the beach to end.
"The beach was beautiful that evening," Jacqueline reminisced. "And so were you," she added, leaning her head against Jen's temple.
"Thank you," Jen said, blushing. She squeezed Jacqueline's shoulders again, and then released her, as Jacqueline reached out, setting the picture frame back into place.
Manicured nails sparkled, as that elegant hand moved to a picture of Jen and Tracy, taken at the Lake Springfield Lighthouse during the early days of their relationship.
Not certain what to expect, Jen stiffened when Jacqueline lifted the picture.
Taking her time, Jacqueline studied the photo carefully. Jen was sitting on a rustic picnic table, leaning forward, her chin propped in her upturned hand. Right beside her, Tracy's arms were around her, forehead pressed against Jen's temple in an intimate pose, both of them laughing softly, as if sharing a private joke.
"You look very happy together," Jacqueline finally said; her voice low and filled with emotion.
"Yes, we were," Jen openly shared as she recalled the afternoon that photo had been taken. Tracy's grandma Rosie had taken it during a family picnic.
Turning from the photo, Jacqueline glanced toward Jen, piercing brown eyes meeting Jen's warm blue ones. "I don't just mean in the photo," she said quietly.
Blue eyes flickered away from that penetrating gaze, as Jen's heart warred with her head. And then she met Jacqueline's gaze again. "Does it bother you? Seeing me with someone else? With another woman?"
Looking away, Jacqueline considered the questions, as she set the photo back in its rightful place on the mantle. "Does it hurt that my son is missing out on his family?" she queried aloud. "Yes," she admitted. "But I can't fault you for falling in love again. You're a young, vibrant woman, Jennifer. And you have every right to move on with your life."
Tears welled up in Jen's eyes, and she struggled to quell them before they fell.
Jacqueline reached over, taking Jen's hand into her own. "I'm glad you found someone to share your life," she said sincerely.
"And that fact that it's a woman?" Jen trembled inside, afraid of the other woman's response. She hadn't sensed that Jacqueline was a part of Preston's plan to take the boys from her, or that she even agreed with his reasoning for doing so; but she could never be certain—not unless Jacqueline reassured her personally.
Jacqueline responded with an affectionate smile. "It never crossed my mind to question it, Dear," she assured. "Your Tracy seems to love you and my grandsons very much. What more could I ask?"
Tears of joy streamed down Jen's face, unchecked, as she listened to the kind, gentle words of the woman who had loved and raised the father of her two precious little boys. It was no wonder Jake had grown into such a sensitive, loving man. "I don't know how to thank you, Jacqueline," she said, the depths of her appreciation evident her tone.
"There's no need for thanks, Jennifer," Jacqueline said warmly. She reached for Jen then, offering a rare embrace, and Jen went willingly into her arms. "Just take care of my beautiful grandsons, and be happy," she whispered against Jen's ear as she held her, lightly stroking her silky blonde hair.
"I promise you, I will," Jen vowed. It felt almost surreal, being held so tenderly by Jake's mother. But it was a good kind of surreal, and she was thankful for this moment, for the shared understanding.
When Jacqueline finally released her, Jen leaned back, meeting those dark eyes, the gaze so familiar that it nearly stopped her heart every time she experienced it. Before she could speak, Tracy entered the room, a tray containing two coffee cups, cream, sugar, and a plate of fresh breakfast Danishes, in hand.
Sensing the emotional gravity in the room, Tracy said quietly, "I hope I'm not interrupting."
Jacqueline smiled at her. "Not at all, Dear," she reassured. "I was just telling your fiancée how happy I am for the two of you. Congratulations on your engagement."
Tracy offered a wide smile. "Thank you, Jacqueline."
Setting the tray on the coffee table, she moved to Jen's side, wrapping an arm around her. "I hope you'll come celebrate with us after the ceremony."
"Just let me know when," Jacqueline confirmed.
"We will," Tracy assured. "But for now, I have to get back to my potato salad." She brushed a kiss against Jen's cheek then, saying, "Let me know if either of you needs anything."
Jen smiled in response, and thanked Tracy for her thoughtfulness. And then she turned her attention back to Jacqueline. "I'm sure this wasn't why you dropped by," she said lightly.
Jacqueline smiled in response. "Not exactly," she admitted. "But it was important that I finally say it. I should have openly applauded the both of you the moment you decided to live your truth, right out in the open."
"I don't imagine that would've gone over well with Preston," Jen granted.
"No, it certainly wouldn't have," Jacqueline sighed. "And that's actually why I'm here."
"What do you mean?" Jen asked. With the sweep of an arm, she indicated the available seats, wordlessly inviting Jacqueline to sit with her.
"Thank you," Jacqueline said, as she moved across the room to settle on the dark leather sofa; a remnant from Jake's man cave days.
Jen chose a seat at the other end of the sofa. Turning to face the other woman, she folded her legs, tucking her bare feet up underneath her.
The expectant expression on her face made Jacqueline's heart tremble. Leaning back into the soft, inviting leather, she crossed her legs, folding her hands in her lap; hoping she looked more calm and collected than she felt inside. "It's no secret that Preston was a… difficult… man to please," she said, matter-of-factly.
"No," Jen quietly agreed, her attention riveted on her former mother-in-law.
"Well, for most of my marriage, I strived to do exactly that," Jacqueline shared.
"Yes, I know," Jen said supportively.
"But no matter what I did, it was never enough," Jacqueline admitted. She grew silent for a moment, contemplating, uncertain of how much Jen really knew. And then she decided on another approach. "Did Jake ever tell you why he took on so many pro-bono cases from the women's shelter?"
"No," Jen answered with the slow shaking of her head. "He only said that the work he did there, fed his soul."
An introspective smile played across Jacqueline's lips. "That sounds like my Jake," she said with obvious affection. Dropping her gaze, her fingers fidgeted in her lap; a behavior decidedly unlike her. "The work he did, he did in my honor, Jennifer," she confessed, emotions warring deep inside.
Confused, Jen said, "I don't understand."
"He couldn't do much to protect me from his father," Jacqueline explained. "So he channeled his energy into helping other women like me."
Finally having a glimpse of understanding regarding the other woman's reticence to allow anyone close, Jen nodded solemnly. "Preston was…" She choked on the word, and Jacqueline supplied it for her.
"Abusive…" she said, putting it mildly. "In every way imaginable."
Jen's eyes filled with compassion. "I'm so sorry, Jacqueline," she said empathically. "I truly had no idea."
Jacqueline was shaking her head. "I'm the one who's sorry, Jennifer," she countered. "I allowed that man to control me, to the point where it affected my ability to connect with the people I love most—including you."
The days since Preston's death had been difficult, more emotional than she would have anticipated, for reasons she was just now beginning to understand. "I want, so much, to rectify that," she shared in a voice that was filled with emotion. "If you could find your way to forgive me—I'd like another chance to be a part of your life."
Moving across the sofa, without hesitation Jen pulled Jacqueline into her arms. "There's nothing to forgive, Jacqueline," she assured, as she held her close.
Clinging to Jen, Jacqueline allowed the tears of healing to fall. "Thank you," she whispered hoarsely.
Jen held her until the tears ceased to fall, and then she released her, placing gentle hands on the other woman's biceps, as their gazes locked. "I wish I had known; but Jake never betrayed your confidence," she said with a reassuring tone.
"No," Jacqueline said. "He never would. I knew that before I even asked. He was fiercely protective of my secret," she shared. "He urged me, time and again, to leave. But I knew better. Preston would have killed me before he would have allowed me to compromise his reputation by leaving. I think, deep down, Jake knew it too. He just hated knowing that I was in such pain. He wanted better for me."
Reaching out, Jen took Jacqueline's hand into her own. "Of course he did," she said soothingly. "He loved you very much."
Jacqueline's face adopted a smile. "And I, him," she said softly, her grief still evident in her tone.
Taking a deep breath, Jen exhaled slowly, allowing the tension to ebb. "Listen," she said, her voice taking on a touch of excitement. "Tracy and I are taking the boys to her parent's house for a barbecue this afternoon, and then we're going to the Bauer's for the fireworks display tonight. Why don't you join us?"
A bright smile filled Jacqueline's face, this time reaching her warm, brown eyes. It made her look ten years younger, and infinitely more beautiful, if that was even possible. "I would love that," she declared.
Jen smiled in response. "Perfect. So would we."
Saturday, July 4, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—9:30 a.m. Central Daylight Time
Entering the back door of the farmhouse, Natalia instantly noticed the distinct smell of smoke, permeating the air. Panicked, she moved, first toward the laundry room, remembering that she had left a load of jeans in the dryer when she left. Peering into the room, she noted that all was in order, and walked into the kitchen, closing the door behind her.
And then she heard it. A short burst, then a long hiss, followed momentarily by a loud pop, and finally, delighted squeals. She raced toward the sounds, arriving in the living room just in time to witness the next short burst.
Stopping dead in her tracks, "Emma Spencer!" she screeched, as the long hiss rang out.
The little girl jumped at the sound of her name; but continued watching, waiting for the impending explosion.
"What are you doing?!" Natalia exclaimed, the inevitable loud pop accentuating her words.
Emma turned to her, shrugging her shoulders. "Shooting off bottle rockets," she answered nonchalantly, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world to be doing.
Natalia shot her an incredulous look. "In the living room?!"
"Well… Yeah…," Emma replied, giving Natalia a confused look.
"And… this is a good idea, why?" Natalia asked, still reeling from the lunacy of the situation.
"Because it's the Fourth of July, Silly," Emma giggled.
Natalia's cheeks puffed out, as she drew in a deep breath. Slowly exhaling, she attempted to calm her nerves. "I know," she said evenly, her demeanor changing, "but… in the living room, Sweetie?" she repeated, her face scrunching up as she tried to convey the incompatibility between the two. "Not really the best place for fireworks."
Emma's face contorted, as she processed Natalia's words. "But… Mommy said I could," she whined.
Natalia's facial muscles twitched, forming into a confused expression. "Your Mommy has said… a lot of… interesting things… in the years I've known her," she acknowledged, rolling her eyes, "but… I'm quite certain she didn't tell you it was okay to shoot off bottle rockets in our living room," she said confidently.
Arching an eyebrow, she watched for her daughter's response.
Emma's lower lip began to quiver, as she peered up at her other Mommy. "I promise I'm not lying," she whimpered, crocodile tears formed, darkening those eyes to teal-blue.
Gauging the sincerity in those tear-stained eyes, Natalia drew in a sharp breath. "Olivia Spencer!" she screamed, sending her voice resonating throughout the farmhouse.
The resounding screech of Natalia's voice pierced Olivia's ears, just as she hit the landing at the top of the staircase. "Geez, what's all the screaming about?" she asked, bounding down the stairs. "I thought we had a no yelling rule around here?"
Pausing at the base of the stairs, she sniffed loudly, and crinkled up her nose. "Do I smell smoke?"
Both of her questions were answered, as Natalia pinned her with a look. "That… was before you told our daughter she could shoot off bottle rockets in our living room!" she admonished, a stern expression on her face.
"What?" Olivia exclaimed, shooting Natalia a confused look. "I did no such thing," she denied. "Why the hell would you think that?"
"Swear jar," Natalia said pointedly in response to Olivia's choice of words.
Olivia groaned in response. And then two sets of eyes turned toward Emma, finding the little girl engaged in a tennis match with her eyes, bouncing from one mother to the other, and back again.
"Emma, why did you tell Natalia I said you could play with fireworks in the living room?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Emma looked down at the bottle rockets in her hand. "Because… you said I could play with them today, 'cause… it's the Fourth of July, but… it's raining outside, and… they won't work in the rain… and besides, I'm not allowed to play in the rain… You said I have to play inside when it's raining, and…"
"Okay, okay, okay…" Olivia shot off in rapid fire, much like her daughter's fireworks display, as she attempted to halt the child's ramblings. "I get it… I get your reasoning," she said, "but, come on, Jellybean… you're old enough to know that playing with fire is dangerous—especially in the house. And yes, I said you could play with them today, but you know better than to play with them alone."
"Am I in trouble?" Emma asked, peering up at them.
"Trouble?" Olivia parroted, the upturn in her voice indicating the question. "Ohhh, I think…"
Catching the expression in Olivia's eyes, Natalia quickly came to Emma's rescue. "Emma, Sweetie, I think it might be a good idea for you to run upstairs and get ready for the barbecue," she suggesting. "Mommy and I will come up to talk with you about this in a few minutes."
Emma's gaze ping-ponged back and forth between her two mothers, as she attempted to gauge the situation. When Olivia turned away, steepling her hands over her nose and mouth, she thought it best to escape. That was her mommy's tell that she was biting her tongue about something—and that was never good.
"Okay, Mama," she readily agreed. And with that, she was scampering up the stairs.
Olivia waited until Emma was out of earshot, and then turned sharply toward Natalia. "What the hell was that?" she demanded.
Facing Olivia with determination in her eyes, Natalia answered, "Just trying to give you a few minutes to think before you act."
"What, like a timeout?" Olivia challenged.
"Sort of," Natalia replied evenly. "I just don't want you to regret your reaction—the way that I did mine," she explained. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."
Anger immediately dissipated, and Olivia moved toward her. "It wasn't really a yell," she said, enfolding Natalia in her arms. "It was more like a high-pitched screech."
Her wry tone drew a laugh from Natalia, who readily accepted the embrace. "You're ridiculous," she said playfully.
"So you keep telling me," Olivia said playfully. Lightly, she brushed her lips against Natalia's temple. "And you're forgiven," she added, tightening her hold on Natalia for a brief moment.
Threading her arms around Olivia's neck, Natalia met Olivia's gaze with a smile, and lightly kissed her mouth.
That fleeting kiss wasn't enough for Olivia, who pulled Natalia impossibly closer, her mouth coming down hard on Natalia's. Slowly, deeply, she kissed her, tongues gliding smoothly, as Olivia's hands tangled in the mess of curls at the back of Natalia's neck.
As the kiss continued, determined hands snaked beneath Natalia's t-shirt, setting out on an expedition of the smooth, growing expanse of warm skin. Slowly, they edged higher; thumbs brushing the soft undersides of Natalia's tender breasts before hands gently cupped them, squeezing just enough to elicit a ragged groan.
"I totally wanna jump your bones right now," Natalia gasped against Olivia's mouth, as Olivia's thumbs brushed over the taut tips of achingly aroused nipples.
A roguish grin flickered across Olivia's mouth, as she released Natalia from the kiss. "What if I promised you a few fireworks of our own tonight, after the display at the barbecue?" she murmured against Natalia's ear, her tongue lightly playing across the curve of tender flesh.
"I'd say I can't wait to see what you use to set them off," Natalia grinned, her fingertips dancing across Olivia's bare belly.
"Oh, Honey, have I got plans for you," Olivia said, drawing out the word "plans."
"A little something new?" Natalia queried. Now, she was curious. They had tried so many new things in recent weeks that she could hardly fathom anything else might exist. But that didn't stop her from hoping. Olivia's fearless sense of adventure had broadened Natalia's horizons to places she never dreamed possible, and she was excited to see what came next.
"New and very… different," Olivia hinted playfully.
"Tease," Natalia accused.
"Guilty as charged," Olivia admitted with a grin. And then she purposely placed a modicum of distance between the two of them—Natalia's fingertips skating across her skin were driving her to distraction. "Now we'd better go have that chat with our daughter, before I end up nailing you right here on the living room floor."
Wouldn't be the first time. Natalia laughed. "Gee, you're so romantic," she said dryly.
"Sweetheart," Olivia said. "I'm just getting started."
TBC in Chapter 16.2…