Thank you to Divine Arion, Souless666, 555LordBacon666, for the reviews. I have been depressed this weekend, :( my mom and step dad can't seem to quit putting me down for everything I do, and for things I like which they do not like. (which includes wrestling) I never asked them to like it, just don't put me down because I do. Well, luckily I don't live with them so don't have to put up with them all the time. But any-who, I have a couple days that I don't have classes so that will help out. I'm just sick of school and certain family members. Oh well. I do what I enjoy and if they don't like it tough, there are others who do! Love to peeps out there who read and love to fellow wrestling fans out there because we understand and appreciate that these guys put their bodies on the line to entertain us and because they are passionate about what they do and enjoy doing it! Love to all the wrestlers out there from the big names to the beginners who hope to be big names some day, thank you!! Okay, now on to the story. I hope it is enjoyed, and it is with much respect that I write about Glen Jacobs and the character Kane. :)

Chapter 5

Home, it is where my heart is, and this is because my heart is cradled in her hands. She holds it nestled there no matter what may come to pass that is one truth which will remain forever. Her touch is velvet and soft like morning dew on grass. Her voice is gentle and pleasant like a refreshing spring rain. The sound of it is as tranquil and soothing as the soft lapping of water over smooth stones. I hear the simple love in her voice and it never ceases to amaze me how that love could be only for me, this man who is only a speck of nothingness in the great dark sea of swirling space and time. I am amazed at this bond that we share and how it links only us, we share it with no other, and because of this we are one no matter how near or apart we may be. Right now, we are near. Her skin is soft and supple and each time I touch and stroke these intimate places I am astounded that I am the one she has chosen to share them with, each time I press a tender kiss to her lips, or each time she presses hers to mine, it is like I am touching and being touched for the very first time. It seems hopelessly and maybe sickeningly mushy but it is true. Even after being married to her for years these feelings are still stirred inside and I still love her with the same passion that was lit when I first realized that I did love this woman. She has the ability to steal my very breath away with one bat of her lashes, she turns me to goo with the brush of her fingertips, with one little glance she makes me feel like I'm floating, at the sound of one whispered word she makes my world spin, and all of these things are the same now as they were then. Even if I live to be one-hundred and she lives by my side, she will still and always be the one to make my world spin with just a palsied touch or a tired glance or a well-worn and wrinkled smile. I think all these things as I look into her dazzling blue eyes which force me to silence, because once lost in those sparkling pools, I just forget how to speak. My fingers wind through her hair which is blond with a tint of strawberry. I study the slight spray of freckles that dance across the bridge of her nose and disappear on her milky cheeks. Those cheeks are dimpled as her thin pinkish lips curl into a pleased smile. I kiss them. The sheets rustle softly as she moves closer to me. Her hand cups my chin gently and when I pull away and break the kiss her lips curve even more and along with them her amazing azure eyes crinkle into smiles.

"Glen, I missed you."

She nuzzles her head into my chest.

"I missed you more." I smile and kiss the top of her head where her light curls meet in a part.

"You're amazing." She tells me. She must be referring to what we have just finished and not to me because after all, there's nothing amazing about me, I'm just an average kind of guy. What is amazing is that I am lying next to this woman.

"You're amazing more." I say to her with a grin and she giggles and snuggles closer.

In the fogginess of my half-asleep mind I realize it is morning. Wonderful smells drift into the bedroom from the kitchen. As I swim up from that deep hole we call sleep I realize that I have actually slept very well and there were no dreams or nightmares relating to him. If the tantalizing aromas that are wafting around are not enough to make me smile already that realization defiantly does. Jenna gives me a raised eyebrow when she sees me lumber into the kitchen with a smile on my face. Normally I am not a morning person. I'm usually a bear when I wake up no matter how early or late and I sit with my eyes half opened and pout over some coffee for a while.

"Need any help?" I offer.

"Please Glen, do you want your eggs over-easy or burnt to a frazzle?" She prods me with a spatula and we both laugh.

"Okay, I get your point. But I can at least pour orange juice…the worst I can do there is spill it."

She watches me intently as I pour the pulpy orange stuff into one glass and then start on another. I look at her and wonder what she's doing.

"What?"

"I'm waiting for you to spill it." She laughs at me and after I put the carton back I give her a playful little slap on her butt. She looks cute in her t-shirt, robe, and messy ponytail.

"Don't be shy now." She teases. As she puts our food on plates I sneak up behind her, wrap my arms around her waist, and pull her away from the cabinets. She starts to shriek as I carry her over to the table and lay her on it. She laughs when I do this and when I try to bend over her she reaches inside my robe and starts to tickle me and so naturally I have to tickle her back…but I'm more ticklish so she soon has me in tears. We forget momentarily about breakfast and run through the house trying to out-tickle one another like silly little kids. She grabs a flowered pillow from the couch and chases me with it and bops me with it every chance she gets until I duck into the bathroom. We both howl with laughter and moments later I open the door where she is waits and immediately starts with the pillow again. Little does she know I have the spray bottle she uses to wet her hair and so I whip this handy little do-dad out and squirt her. She lets out a shrill 'eeeee!' and runs back into the kitchen. I follow her with my spray bottle ready for battle. I see she has abandoned the pillow and it now sits slumped on the counter. She leans against the sink with a smirk on her face. Some of her strawberry-blonde curls have tumbled out of her ponytail and now hang around her face framing it prettily.

"I've got you now…" I hold the spray bottle out as though it's a gun. Suddenly she pulls a can of soda from behind her back and aims it at me.

"It's a show-down partner." She says as she prepares to pull the tab. I brace myself for the sticky spray of soda but when she goes to pop the tab her nail breaks. "Damn it!" She sticks the poor finger in her mouth and glares at the offending container.

"Let me see." She hands it over and I turn it towards her.

"No, Glen!" She screeches but it is too late. Her yelp turns in to a cry of laughter as the soda spurts out at her in a frothy mess. She grabs the spray-nozzle from the sink and suddenly I find I am likewise drenched. Both of us slip and slide around until we fall into a wet, sticky, foamy heap of laughing bozos.

So maybe exploding the soda on her was not the best thing. She's making me mop. She sits at the table and looks through pictures that she has spread all over the place. Every once and a while I look up at her with a put on pout and she pretends to ignore it. No matter how many times I mop it is still sticky and my feet still suction to it as though our kitchen floor is lined with fly-paper. I dump the water from the mop bucket and refill it fresh and try again. I am now determined that I am going to win the battle of Glen v. Mess.

"Hey Glen, there are hardly any pictures of you, I mean like back in college or when you were growing up…" She trails off. I look up at her as she rummages through her photos. She's doing some sort of album or scrap book or something.

"Parents didn't take a lot of pictures…the ones they did take were ruined when we had a fire one summer. Lightening hit the house." The mess is winning, still. "There's probably a couple of school pictures in there somewhere. I'm about to give up on this and just put new tile in the kitchen. I bet that was your plot all along."

"Mmhm." She says absently looking through the photos. "What's this?"

I prop the mop against the counter and go over to see what she's looking at. I look over the top of her head and see that she is holding up a piece of a photo. It has obviously been burned. The edges are blackened and curled. The only thing that remains of it is the top left portion of the photo. I take it from her and study it as she bends to dig in a tote. Her boxes and totes litter the kitchen and living room as though we have yet to unpack them from our move in years ago. Likewise there are pictures spread everywhere in the same manner, they are like many snippets of captured time pilled and stacked here and there. I sit down next to her and look at the battered black and white photo, or at least what is left of it. There is part of a car, what looks to be the nose of an old station wagon, and a woman is leaning against it. I don't recognize her at all. She is tall and slender with long hair falling over her shoulders. She is dressed in flared pants with a wide belt and a funky patterned shirt. One of her hands rests on the head of a small boy whose face is partially obscured by the hat he has pulled over his eyes. He is wrinkling up his nose obviously disgusted with getting his picture taken. He is wearing a shirt that is crinkled because it seems to be buttoned up wrong and pants that show his ankles because he's grown too tall for them despite that he looks to be no more than three years old. In the woman's other arm is curled a baby swaddled in a blanket. I turn the picture over and see faded letters inked in cursive. R-K, KINCAID, AND GLENDA BURROW (PAULS SISTER) 1967. I am at a complete loss. I don't know anyone by these names. Despite this, the picture seems vaguely familiar.

"What's this?"

I am jarred from my thoughts as my wife's voice comes through. She has found something else in one of the totes. She sits it on the table and with a puff of air blows dust from the top. It goes skittering around in little gray particles and tickles my nose and threatens to make me sneeze. What she has sat on the table and dusted off is a small wooden box with a large letter "R" carved roughly into the top of it. This too seems to ring an odd bell way back in some fog of my mind. I can't understand it. I know I have never seen this box before but something about it is trying to churn up memories. I try to think and place the box but there is nothing. I open the lid and find a few things inside. I dump the contents onto the table. There is a short silver chain which looks like it belongs to something more, a large, cracked, blue button with some black threads clinging to the holes, and a silver Zippo lighter smudged with blackened fingerprints. I rub the lighter on my shirt to wipe away the grime and it shimmers and sparkles like brand new. I move it and let the little jewel catch the light and reflect it into my eyes. There is something almost hypnotizing about the trinket. I can see my tiny reflection in it as the light bounces and glares from the perfect surface…and I am reminded of something I can not quite put my finger on. There is some memory connected with these things that I can't conjure up. I stare at it a while longer trying hard to figure out what meaning lies beneath this silvery bauble but nothing comes bubbling up to the surface. I sigh and replace the button, chain, and lighter into the strange box and I put the partial photo on top and close the lid. Somehow, I feel nothing has really been closed, but something has been opened. When I look up, Jenna is no longer sitting next to me. I look over my shoulder and find she is fiddling with the mop and sending it a few annoyed curses.

This chapter was a bit short but I hope you enjoyed it and hope it gets you wondering about these objects. Hhmm…keep reading and I'm sure you will find out about them. :) Please don't forget to review! Peace!