Chapter Nine: Stress

Stacey

March 7

"Logan," I felt the gasp escape from my lips in a hurried rush. "Please. Logan, please, faster."

I clung to the back of his t-shirt, my eyes closed tight, wishing that I could somehow make this hurried meeting between lovers last longer and at the same time praying that we finished soon and were not caught by Mary Anne. At some level, I knew that Mary Anne was perfectly aware of what we were doing and I don't think I could've handled the expression on her face if she caught us outright.

At the moment, Logan was on top of me, thrusting into my body harder and faster with each thrust. I now had to bite my lip to hold back the cries of pain and pleasure that I would be releasing, if I knew I had the freedom. I tried to shift my grip to his shoulders, but he was moving too fast and I nearly had my arms knocked up over my head at the attempt. I settled for clinging to Logan's hard policeman's body as best I could as he thrust painfully hard once, twice then shook for a long moment before collapsing on top of me.

I hadn't come, but it didn't matter this time as I stroked Logan's sweaty hair and held onto his muscular back. What mattered was that we had been together, he had been inside of me again, and it had been the most wonderful experience of my life, even with my lack of 'satisfaction.' Anyways, I felt good enough and my heart was bursting with love for this man I had no right to being loving in the way I was. I lifted his head so that I could see his face. Those brilliant blue eyes met mine and he smiled one of his slow, lazy smiles. I kissed him gently.

"I love you, you know," I whispered. He nodded and swallowed. He was still struggling to catch his breath.

"God, Stacey," he panted. "I can't believe I love you, too."

I laughed softly. "Yeah, we certainly picked the wrong people."

"Tell me about it." His eyes focused intensely on mine and I knew that he was about to pull out of me. I prepared for it and there was only a little discomfort when he did. Logan winced a little, too, and kissed my forehead once he was out. "Stace, how can we keep doing this?"

He stood up and I watched him put his denim jeans back on over his blue plaid boxers that Mary Anne had bought new for him just days before Valentine's Day. No wonder Mary Anne was so madly, deeply in love with him and no wonder I was falling for him. Besides the golden personality, there was the absolutely, perfectly god-like body that Logan was blessed with. I loved to just watch him dress and undress. Sometimes I got lost in what he was saying as I watched his perfect muscles ripple and flex.

I shook my head and met his eyes. He was holding a gray shirt in his hand, obviously too concerned about my answer to continue dressing.

"Do you want to keep doing this, Logan?" I asked in a small voice.

His hands clasped my upper arms in an instant, shirt forgotten, and pulled me upright. "Stacey, I love Mary Anne with everything in my heart and soul and it is killing me that we are betraying her like this. But, Stacey, I love you, too. I don't know why it's in my heart and part of me wishes it wasn't there, but it is. You are a part of me now and I think you've always been a part of me." He released one of my arms to stroke my hair. "I guess I was just too wrapped around Mary Anne to ever notice you inside of me." He paused and searched my eyes desperately. "Does that even make sense?"

"More than you know," I whispered in return. He sat down next to me on the bed and just looked at me. I was happy to return the loving gesture.

Though I was watching Logan, studying his face and hair with the proper detail of a devoted lover, which left my mind to do a little bit of thinking.

We were in my queen sized bed with the red silk sheets and the white cotton quilt with silk Japanese flowers whose name escapes me now. Mary Anne had laughingly called my new bedding my "hooker" bedding. Now, she didn't seem at all interested in touching the silk sheets like she had been before. She must know that this was the bed where we made love. Neither of us could bring ourselves to make love on the bed that Logan shared with Mary Anne. It just seemed like the most insulting thing that we could do to her.

"I could look into your eyes for hours," Logan whispered. I smiled, feeling a blush on my cheeks.

"Put your shirt on, sweetie," I told him. "Mary Anne could be home any minute."

"When do you think we should tell her?" he asked earnestly.

We both clung to one another desperately for a moment at the sound of the front door opening. I quickly opened the drawer on my nightstand and whipped out a bottle of after shave that Logan wore. I sprayed it on him closely then kissed him passionately.

"Get out," I hissed.

He slipped out of the room so fast it was like he was never in here. I replaced the tiny bottle and shut the drawer. A bigger bottle of a Victoria's Secret scent was on top of the nightstand. I sprayed myself with that and then sprayed the air lightly. I tugged on a nightgown as I heard Mary Anne call our names and begin to climb the stairs. I couldn't have the musky smell of sex in the air when she came in. If she did.

Everything else was all set up. It looked like I was spending the day in bed with cramps. Mary Anne tapped on my door first.

"Whoa!" she gasped when she opened the door. I turned away from the small TV I had just turned on and looked at her quizzically. She waved her hand in front of her face. "There's a lot of smelly stuff in here."

"Oh, that," I said lazily. "It was getting stuffy in here and I was too lazy to open the window."

She shook her head with a smile that said 'Oh, Stacey.' "Well, let me open it, then. It's super stuffy and now flowery in here."

After she left and was safely downstairs with Logan once more, I buried my head in my pillow and let out the loudest wail of despair that I dared.


Of course, the guilt that I felt for being in a relationship with my best friend's boyfriend, right after everything that had happened to her was almost unbearable. The sensible part of me screamed that I should do the smart thing and just end my relationship with Logan. Never mind that I had never felt happier in my life than when I was with him. It didn't matter because he was Mary Anne's and she did not deserve another crushing disappointment, this time directly at my hand.

I knew she knew. Somehow, some way, she knew. It was killing me inside to know that we were hurting her like this and it was everything I could do to make it up to her. I made up my mind to do everything I could to make it up to Mary Anne and to ensure that she would have nothing to do want for. Even if I was being a horrible person and continuing my relationship with Logan.

That morning, Mary Anne was seated in front of the TV, not eating or doing anything exactly, except staring mildly at the screen. Sometimes I wondered if she was even watching the TV or just using it as an excuse to wander away into her mind. I cleared my throat and she slowly looked up at me.

"I'm going to make some eggs," I said in a bright, cheerful voice. "How would you like yours?"

"I'm not really hungry," she said softly. "Thanks anyways."

"Oh, come on, Mary Anne," I insisted. She frowned. I didn't want to push, but I did want to see her eat something. "You have to eat. I don't remember the last time I saw you put food in your mouth."

She shrugged. "Over easy, then, Stace. Just one, though. I'm not that hungry."

"Excellent! Do you want some toast; maybe I could fry up some sausage?"

Mary Anne winced. "Just the egg and a slice of toast. And some V-8."

Mary Anne was the only person our age who I knew drank tomato juice. I found it appalling. I gave her a smile and a salute.

"Coming right up!" I told her cheerfully and she only gave me a half smile in return before returning her attention to the television again.


March 8


"So, this is how you help someone knit?" I asked with a small laugh in my voice. Mary Anne glanced over at me and smiled.

"It's not glamorous, no, but that's what you have to do."

We were seated across from one another upstairs in Mary Anne's 'craft room.' She had all kinds of half-finished arts and crafts in there and it was some place that I just knew Claudia Kishi would be all over in an instant. Of course, some of the projects, especially those knitting and quilting projects, were completed and either hung up to admire (like the sunrise quilt that she made and was hanging in a massive frame in the family room) or kept us snuggled up and warm at night. Right now, she was working on knitting a mess of colorful children's socks that she was planning on donating once she had enough pairs. While she knit, I held the yarn to make sure it didn't tangle.

Mary Anne glanced up at me every so often, her mouth making a tiny puckered expression each time she did. I returned each glance with a sunny smile as though I didn't know why she was shooting me those looks. She always looked back down, cowed for the moment and undoubtedly unsure what to make of me. I have never felt like a bigger jerk.

"These are looking absolutely adorable," I told her quietly. It was a quiet afternoon. Mary Anne paused in her knitting to study one of the socks. She smiled at its soft pinkness.

"Thank you," she answered sincerely. "I just hope the kids will like them, you know?"

"I'm sure they will," I told her. "I mean, look at how bright and colorful some of these are. They scream for kids' feet."

She laughed softly. "I suppose." She knit a few more stitches. "You know, you should pick up a project if you're going to be staying home until Teddy is caught."

"A project?" I asked.

"Yeah. Something creative and crafty. Something that you can donate or just use to decorate this blank slate of a house with." Her soft brown eyes studied me patiently. I shifted nervously in my seat. "If you want, I can help you start something. I can help you learn how to do a new hobby; I do know how to do an absurd amount of crafty little things."

I nodded slowly. "That would be nice."

"So?"

"What?"

"What do you want to learn how to do?" Mary Anne set down her knitting, so I handed her the yarn that I had been keeping straight for her. She quickly bundled it up then smiled at me. "I think you'd like quilting, to be honest. You could definitely make a huge quilt to hang on the wall in the living room. There's almost nothing hanging in there… well, except for a couple of tiny picture frames. The room needs something big and warm like a wall hanging to soften and brighten it up."

I smiled in return. "That could be fun, Mary Anne. Though, it would take a lot of time."

"Is there something else it would be interrupting?" she asked with perfect calm.

I froze. She must know. I wanted to break down into tears and confess everything to her. I wanted to crawl on my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness. But, I didn't. Instead, I managed to shake my head before too much time had passed.

"Nothing, Mary Anne."


March 9


My stomach was starting to hurt. Not just the little fluttery kind of aches, but real churning, throbbing pains. I held my hand over it and pressed down every so often, biting my lip to keep from moaning in pain. I didn't want poor Mary Anne to see my sick with my own nerves.

I smiled as she entered the room. She studied me for a long moment before speaking.

"Are you all right?" she asked, looking concerned.

I gave her my brightest smile. "Of course I am. My breakfast burrito is just giving me some trouble."

"Uh-huh."

Mary Anne left the room without saying anything else.

At first I was confused. Then it hit me. She didn't want to be around me anymore. She was getting sick of me and my false cheeriness, the way I was trying so hard to make things between us happy. I covered my hand with my face and began to weep.

There was nothing that I could anymore. I was losing one of my best friends in the world and I did everything to deserve it.


March 10


I stared dumbly down at the bathroom scale. I had lost 15 pounds. I'm diabetic. I had been at the perfect weight for my height and now I had dropped 15 pounds? It wasn't just that I suddenly realized how much skinnier I looked; I also realized how this could suddenly turn into a health crisis.

I began to shake. I didn't even notice Logan open the door to the bathroom.

"Oh, sorry!" he apologized. "The door was partly open and I didn't think anyone was in here. I'll just go and… Stace? Oh, God, Stacey, what's wrong?"

Logan turned me around and was holding me so tight and close. I began to sob painfully hard into his gray t-shirt, my entire shivering with fear and a general sense of being overwhelmed. His hold on me was comforting and I closed my eyes, letting my body release all the pent-up stress it was holding inside.

"Honey, what's going on?" a feminine voice asked sharply. Mary Anne.

"It's Stacey," Logan instantly responded. "She's shaking and crying and I can't figure out why."

Mary Anne's voice softened. "Let's get her into her bedroom, Logan, and lie her down."

Logan led me slowly out of the bathroom and I felt Mary Anne's arm slip around my waist as we entered the hallway. I wanted to collapse against her and sob, but I knew better. She was my best friend and I couldn't even take too much comfort in her touch.

By the time they got me to my room and had me seated on the bed, the shivering had stopped, but not the tears. Mary Anne sat on the bed beside me, holding me close to her while Logan crouched in front of me.

"What's happening?" Mary Anne asked gently.

"I just lost 15 pounds and I'm scared that I'm going to lose more weight and that my diabetes is going to start going haywire because of it and that I'll land in the hospital and I don't want to go to the hospital, please?" I blurted out in one breath and began to cry again. Mary Anne squeezed me gently and Logan took my hand.

"Let me make a few calls, all right?" he asked. "I'll be right back when I'm done." I nodded. "Mary Anne will stay with you while I'm gone."

Mary Anne pushed gently at my shoulder. "Honey, lie down. You need to calm down. Here, I'll stay beside you."

We both rested our heads on my massive supply of pillows and I sighed. This is what I wanted. My best friends back. Except that I still loved Logan. I hugged Mary Anne to me.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

She kissed my forehead. "I know."


March 13


It was a mad house. The calls that Logan had made had been to Kristy and Claudia. He asked Claudia, who was my other best friend and had been since we were 12, to move in with us. Of course, it wasn't just Claudia anymore, but her boyfriend Jack and a nine year old girl named Kaylee who they had adopted when a dear friend of Jack's passed away from AIDS. So, it would be Claudia, Jack, and little Kaylee moving in with us.

Logan reasoned that having Claudia around would help ease some tension in the house as well generally lighten things up. Kaylee, too, especially since Mary Anne was so taken with kids. Jack and Logan were good friends and Jack would give Logan a male on his side against a houseful of women.

Kristy and Pete, along with Kristy's siblings Benny, Karen, Andrew, and Emily Michelle, were going to help with the moving in since it was a weekend and the older kids were home from college. Of course, they had to bring their kids with them, but Grace Brewer (Kristy's baby half-sister) and Kaylee were the official baby-sitters for the little kids.

I stayed upstairs in my bedroom, out of the way of all the clashing and banging downstairs. I was surprised by Mary Anne, who seemed to be having a great time organizing everything and telling everyone where to take things.

There was a small apartment-like area downstairs. It was off the kitchen and had two bedrooms very close to one another. They were basically set away from the rest of the house and had clearly been used as the maid's rooms when Logan's Great-Aunt lived here. Still, the rooms were big and Claudia and Jack instantly liked them. Kaylee, on the other hand, did not. So, she was rooming upstairs, in the bedroom next to mine, next to the bay window in the hallway, which Mary Anne adored and often tucked herself into.

Kaylee was excited to be living next door to me since I was her favorite "aunt" and she adored being near me. I helped her decorated the plain dark wooden room into something cozy for a preteen. We hung up her favorite quilt which was purple and white with tiny red flowers sprinkled all over it (compliments of Mary Anne) on the wall across from the window. It took up nearly the entire wall. We slid her bed beside the window so that she could look out whenever she was on her bed. Her writing desk went on the same wall as the door as did two of her bookcases. Her other three, smaller book cases, we scattered throughout the room. All in all, it was a much smaller, but much cozier room for a preteen now. Especially one who had lived in a cramped apartment her entire life.

When it was all done, late that night, Kaylee collapsed into my bed and fell asleep. I didn't have the heart to move her, so I pulled the covers up over both of us and shut my eyes. Having these three here was definitely going to be something good for us all.