Chapter Ten: Sorry
Mid-morning sunlight streamed through Alchemy's window, falling across her nose. She stretched and rolled over onto her back. She rubbed her eyes.
"Morning," Blackheart's muffled voice said.
"Morning."
"Sleep well?"
"Yes," she said.
He sat up, looking down at her. Her hair was tangled and all across her face, "what?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said, "it's something about the morning after, it always feels sort of strange."
She half-shrugged, "I suppose." She smiled, "it does feel a bit strange."
He lay back down and kissed her shoulder, watching her as she stared into her curtains.
"What's on your mind?"
She shook out of her semi-unconscious state, still staring at her curtains, "You're not going to leave again, are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you going to leave again?"
"Why would I leave again."
"Because we had sex."
"Alchemy, you're not making any sense."
She rolled over to face him, "When I was sixteen."
"You're still not harping on that, are you?"
She lip quivered, "are you going to leave again?"
"No, of course not," he tucked a knot of hair behind her ear, "Alchemy, I love you. You know I love you."
She half-smiled, "You know there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you."
"I know," he smirked, "trust me, I know."
She blinked serenely.
There was a sudden knock on her door, "Alchemy, we're home."
They both jumped, Blackheart quickly got out of bed and into his own (Alchemy still hadn't told her family), "Morning Mother."
"Morning Praxis," Blackheart called.
"Well, it's time to get up, it's nearly noon," she opened the door, "come on, get up."
"Yes Mother," she said. Praxis nodded slowly and went back downstairs. Alchemy laughed nervously, rubbing her face, "that was close."
"When are you going to...?"
"I don't know," She said, "I'm not ready." She stretched again and sat up. Her hips felt unusually heavy and torn.
"Are you okay?" He noticed her look of discomfort.
"Yeah," she said, "I think so...am I supposed to ache the morning after?"
He shrugged, "Dunno."
Alchemy was moody and stiff the entire day. She mostly sat on her ass doing nothing which made her feel much better.
"Sorry I made your day painful," he said, cuddling her, "I'm sure once you've, ahem, stretched out a bit, you'll be better."
She butted her head against his shoulder, "probably."
By the end of the month, she was fine, and had no morning after stiffness.
Christmas passed with a blur, and New Year's was happily celebrated. Alchemy began to loosen up about sex, and actually experimented. She felt wonderfully liberated and like a woman. And Blackheart wasn't leaving. That was a big thing for her. Her fear of abandonment didn't help with her first time, but after a few times, she figured out he wasn't going to find her inadequate and leave. They did love each other.
The week after New Year's, the family got a very unusual invitation. As it turned out, Alexander's nephew was getting married during the long weekend in February, and the family (Alexander, Praxis, Alchemy and Guest) were invited.
"No," Praxis eyed the invitation, "your sister hates me. She called me Rosemary when I was pregnant."
"Yes, but Nigel is my nephew, and Natalie isn't that terrible."
Alchemy snorted in disbelief.
"Okay," Alexander said, sighing, "Mimi, yes or no?"
"Yes," she said instantly, "I want to go."
Praxis sighed, "Okay, we'll go." She turned to her husband, "but I am going to get drunk, and you can't stop me."
"Deal," he turned to Blackheart, "You don't have to come."
"No," Blackheart shrugged, "I'll go. With these two, it might be fun."
Alexander nodded, and called his nephew.
On a Saturday in the middle of the month, Alexander and Blackheart went to Mike Delany for new suits, and the girls went to the mall for dresses.
"Alex!" Mike smiled, greeting him and Blackheart. Mike was a small man, flamboyant, with thinning hair.
"Hi," Alexander smiled, "I need suits."
"We can do that," he turned to Blackheart, "new friend?"
"You could say that."
Mike extended his hand, "Mike Delany."
"Blackheart," he gingerly accepted the hand. Mike shuddered from the cold.
"Interesting name."
"It's a stage name," Alexander whispered, "He's one of those Goth musicians..."
"Ah," Mike nodded, "he needs a suit as well?"
Alexander nodded, "We have a wedding to go to."
"Who's getting married?"
"My nephew."
"I have just the thing for you," Mike smiled, "but...Blackheart...might take some more work."
Alexander ended up with a smoky grey suit, with a blue and white striped shirt, and blue tie.
"Now," Mike said, putting Blackheart on a small platform, "what would you like in a suit."
Blackheart shrugged, "I don't often wear suits."
"That is a lovely waistcoat though."
Blackheart looked down. He had worn his leather pants and waistcoat today, "thank you."
"How do you feel about pinstripe?"
"Um...I don't really know anything about fabric." Mike left and returned with a fabric swatch with jet black fabric, and a thin, blood red pinstripe. "We pair it with a black shirt and a red tie."
Blackheart nodded, "okay."
Mike got the items, and Blackheart tried them on. He looked different in a full suit. "Well?"
"It's very modern," Mike said, "the young men all love it."
Alexander nodded, "Yeah, it's nice. I'm sure Praxis would approve."
"How is Praxis?" Mike asked fondly, "and little Alchemy...my, she's twenty now isn't she? I remember when she was two." The suits would be ready in a week.
Praxis and Alchemy had a different time. Praxis found a dress first. It was a brown, mid-calf length gown, with a small, gold geometric print. Praxis looked so beautiful. She always looked beautiful in formal wear. Some women look best in jeans and a nice sweater, some look best in uniform; Praxis was one of the women who looked best if she was in formal dresses, be they cocktail dresses, wedding dresses, or big poofy princess gowns.
They stopped at the food court in the mall for a quick bite before going to look for a dress for Alchemy.
"So, do you still hate having Blackheart in your room?"
"No," Alchemy said, "it took some time to get used to."
"You're close with him, aren't you?"
"We're good friends."
Praxis snorted, "don't lie Alchemy."
"I'm not."
"I found the used condoms; I know you two have a relationship."
Alchemy blushed slightly, "how long have you known?"
"A few days. Why didn't you tell us you were together, we could have taken that bed out of your room."
Alchemy shrugged, "I don't know."
"How long have you been together?"
"Early October..."
"You could have told me."
"Don't be mad."
"I'm not," Praxis actually smiled at her daughter, "he's a wonderful man, and I think you are really suited well for each other."
Alchemy smiled, "thanks, Mom."
"What do you say we move that old bed out of your room? I doubt Blackheart actually sleeps in it."
"Okay."
Alchemy had no idea what she wanted in a dress, but when she found it, she was in love. It was a black dress with thin straps. Around the legs, it became two-tiered, with lace detail. It was simple, elegant, and beautiful. It suited Alchemy perfectly.
The women returned home much earlier than the men, because they had left earlier, and Praxis had a feeling they stopped off to get food. So, the girls rolled up their sleeves and dismantled the second bed. Praxis moved the mattress and bedding while Alchemy emptied the drawers and moved all of Blackheart's clothes into her closet and dresser. "Look," Praxis said as she and Alchemy began to carry the components of the bed to the basement, "I don't really care if you and Blackheart are together. And I don't care if you're having sex." Alchemy looked down. "Mimi," She stopped halfway down the stairs and awkwardly reached over to her daughter, making Alchemy look her in the eye, "I'm proud of you."
"Proud?"
"I was worried Catholic school was going to ruin you," Praxis continued taking the bed down, "You're being safe about it. I know you're twenty, but I'm too young to be a grandmother."
Alchemy laughed.
"Why'd you get rid of the other bed?" Blackheart asked. Alchemy was laying on his chest, running her fingers across his stomach.
"My mom did," she said, "she knows."
"So, is that what women talk about when they go dress shopping?"
She laughed, "no, she brought it up when we had lunch."
"How'd she find out?"
"She was emptying out my garbage can I guess."
"Oooh, awkward."
"It wasn't too bad," she said, "I mean, yeah, it was embarrassing, but she was proud of me."
"Why?"
"She was worried that Catholic middle school wouldn't teach me anything about safe sex."
"And did it?"
"Not really, but I'm not stupid, and neither are you." Alchemy laughed, "She said she's too young to be a grandmother."
"I'm really glad we didn't talk about this earlier."
"Why?" She asked.
"I don't think I'll be able to sleep with you for a few days without thinking of your mother now..."
She nudged him, "I somehow doubt that."
He half-grinned, "Does your father know?"
"Probably," she replied, "maybe we should move out...or ask if we can take the attic suite..."
"I think you need to relax. Your mother is proud of you for using condoms, and now we don't have to act like kids sneaking around. If you were still sixteen, then I'd say you had a point, but you're twenty."
She sighed, "probably..."
"Look, you had it easy. Your mother just said she knew and said she was proud of us. Diya want to know what happened to me?"
"Okay."
"My sister, Luxuria..." He grinned, "I had been seeing this succubus for about six months when I was seventeen...and we did eventually have sex. And Luxuria—she's almost ten years older than me, so having my twenty-seven year old sister lecture me about sex—she launches into this explanation about, first the mechanics of it all. I could handle that, because I had already done it, but then she goes totally opposite and starts telling me about how to take a girls' virginity, and the best positions to give a woman multiple orgasms, and how to prolong an erection. I mean, I learned a lot, but it was the most awkward twenty minutes of my life. So, your mother is proud of you...that isn't all that awkward."
Alchemy laughed, "Okay, you're right, it isn't that bad."
January and early February were bitterly cold, and made Alchemy, Praxis and Blackheart very irritable. They weren't good with the cold, the snow and the ice. Alchemy probably felt the worst, getting sick again. But, in an attempt to make her feel better, Blackheart (with help from Praxis) planned a beautiful, five-day vacation to Toronto. They left on February 10th, and checked into the Four Seasons in Toronto. It was an upscale hotel in the heart of the city, and Alchemy was positively thrilled to go there.
"How are you affording this?" She asked on the drive down.
He laughed throatily, "Ah, well...that's none of your business." In actuality, Blackheart had contacted his brother-in-law, Caritas, who managed to not only get the room for them, but also tickets to the opera Carmen for the eleventh. Of course, his sister, Avaritia, was beyond upset with her husband and brother ("You just cost us $3000 Blackheart! What the fuck!").
The drive home was relaxing and calming. Alchemy had loved the Toronto trip: they had stayed up late, gone shopping downtown, and both of them felt closer as a couple. It had been their first real vacation. Blackheart had his feet on the dashboard, kind of dancing to the music Alchemy had turned the radio to. "I've been meaning to ask you," he said as they pulled into a Tim Hortins for something eat, "why do you want to go to your cousin's wedding so much?"
She shrugged as she turned into the drive-thru, ordered, and got the food. She thirstily drank most of her hot chocolate and devoured a doughnut (cherry blossom).
"Alchemy..." Blackheart pressed, picking at his own doughnut (Boston cream), "are you going to answer me?"
She sighed, "I didn't want to talk about it."
"Too bad," he sipped at a coffee, "spill."
She smirked, getting back on the highway, "At my sweet sixteen, when I took all my friends out to a really fancy dinner, and back to my house for cake and movies, my dad's sisters and their husbands came along. We didn't invite them, but they asked to help ferry kids back and forth from the restaurant to my house."
"So?"
"It was okay, until we were back at my house. We didn't know that their kids were in town. My older cousins came to the house, and came downstairs with my friends, and embarrassed me by being completely hammered. I didn't care if they told stories about when I was little: it was that they were drunk, didn't listen when I asked them nicely to leave, the younger one—Nigel—hit on one of my best friends, and ended up passed out in my basement. My friends said it was no big deal, but it was too late."
Blackheart smiled, "You're sexy when you want revenge."
"I have to do it. They need to know how I felt. I don't care how petty it is."
"Well, you have my support. And your mother's I think."
The remaining drive was much more exciting. Plotting was always fun.
